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#it’s 12 am ish for me on a sunday so if i can post it by the end of the day that’d be cool

mossghosst · 2 months

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the long awaited (by me i didn’t like the old one) four swords leo redeisgn :) this is a bit later when he’s more healed cause i ddint wanna draw the crutches lmao

gonna ramble abt my thought process under the cut if people are interested

first idea when redesigning was to incorporate his canon gear into it cause he DOES still have that.

he put pieces of fabric with his brother’s colors on hi belt thing as a reminder of home. in a similar vein, he wears his mask around his wrist as a bracelet cause he doesn’t like wearing it when his brothers aren’t around to match w him

for the actual clothes, i wanted to try to imitate the style of clothes in neo edo? unsure of how successful i was with that. i thought he’d choose smth similar to the robe he wears in lair games cause this guy is fighting for ANY sense of familiarity. he then tried to sew on the hamato symbol. being a medic, the stitches themself r pretty good but the symbol is a little fucked cause he’s never done anything like that. it’s the thought that counts!

#tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise leo #rottmnt leo #four swords #four swords are better than two #fsabtt #mossghosstdrawings #almost done w the lineart for part 4!!#hopefully i’ll be done soon #the coloring ish thing i do doenst take long so?#it’s 12 am ish for me on a sunday so if i can post it by the end of the day that’d be cool #we will see no promises i fear

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rottmnt-residuum · 1 year

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Some Things You Aught to Know (this also the index)

“At the end of it all, what’s left of you?”

The long reaching ramifications of an alien invasion… it all starts here. After the Kraang were defeated, the boys have taken a back step from their usual activities to heal. Which has been surprisingly easy due to sudden lack of activity from their rogue gallery. At least, until Donnie disappears.

Hi! Welcome to the side blog that hosts my comic, Residuum. This little brain baby of mine was conceived in a dream my subconscious cooked up one night and then refused to leave me in the morning! Yes, yes, very interesting, but why is that relevant? Well, my darling reader, dreams can get really, really fucked up. As suuuch, this comic gets kinda, okay a lot, fucked up (￣▽￣|||)

So, this handy dandy pinned post is both the content/trigger warnings and where to find parts. The warnings do contain some spoilers for future installments, so I’ve put them under the read more. I do stress again that this comic is fucked, but to those who don’t read the warnings:

Probably don't read this if you're squeamish. It will contain a lot of, uh. Gore. Seriously. I'm not kidding around here.

This comic will not contain anything sexual, consensual or not. Nothing implied, either. (I can’t believe I have to say this, but no incest, and yes, I am kink-shaming you.)

Directory | F.A.Q.

Parts

Parts that have gore or the more extreme tw's will be red. Parts with mild-ish tw's will be yellow. Censored versions of extreme gore will be blue.

Read it chronologically: [censored gore] [full gore] (only works on desktop as far as I am aware. also! part 17 isn't showing up in either of the links, and i don't know why...)

(Updates every other Sunday at 3:30 pm PST) Update Progress: 0%

Content/Trigger Warnings

Subject to change, I’ll tell y’all if they change when I update. They probably won’t change much, but the creative process is annoying :)

Feel free to message directly for any reason, be it clarification or something else

Desturbing Imagery, Trypophobia, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Guns, Gun Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Ableism, Coercion of Minors, Solitary Confinement, Contractual Slavery, Blood & Gore, Implied Death/Actual Death, Major Character Death, Animal Death, Animal Experimentation, Dismemberment, Disembowelment, Non-Consensual Medical Procedures, Irreversible Alterations, Cannibalism, PTSD, Anatomically Correct Organs, Lobotomy, Imprisonment of Innocents, Medical Experimentation, Body Horror, Police Brutality, Corrupt Government Institutions, Xenophobia

#rottmnt residuum #residuum

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kiwiana-writes · 6 months

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Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Kicking us off this week with a fic which is based on a tumblr post but also part of my personal mission to Fuck With Tropes—in this case, I desperately want more fake dating fics between two people who AREN'T endgame. So here I am, being the change I wish to see in the world, etc.

His first week on campus, Alex had gone to an event at the LGBTQ+ Center with no real reason for being there other than a big internal question mark in the shape of Liam’s hand on him. He’d found himself drawn to a gorgeous girl in a pin-studded leather jacket, and had flirted with her for twenty straight minutes before she’d finally lain a hand on his harm, gesturing to one of her pins—a pride flag, orange into yellow into white into two different shades of blue—and asked him if he’d seen it before. It was the first time Alex ever heard the term aroace; he’d felt like a dick after she explained, but she’d just seemed to find it funny. He and Bea have been fast friends ever since. So he did learn something about himself that day—his sexuality might still be shoved in a drawer to dwell on later, but at least he knows he can make a friend who isn’t Nora. And this one isn’t going to sleep with him or his sister, so. Bonus.

As always feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to so tagging @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @celaestis1 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @hypnostheory @iboatedhere @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @lilythesilly @maxbegone @myheartalivewrites @nontoxic-writes @orchidscript @rmd-writes @roseapothecary @sherryvalli @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @suseagull04 @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #wip: Alex and Bea fake date

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wackyart · 9 months

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FICS RECAP SO FAR:

I'll try to be a bit more active on there but here you go friends ! Here are the things coming soon and the ones already posted ! What's to come: - The third and last part of "the "The Gauntlet's Squad: Sickness Series" aka Din being sick and Bo and Grogu taking care of him. You can read the first and seconds parts here already ! - A Dinbo cute OS with some christmas-ish vibes/ snow and more. - A TWD (The Walking Dead) fanfic but my first chapter is like +65k and not done so I need to edit cause this can't be a chapter alone X'D This is a Negan & Maggie fic. - A TWD and D&D (Dungeons and Dragons) mash-up fic. Basically: Shane, Beth, Maggie, Negan and Daryl thrown into DND with some shenanigans and this is purely self-indulgent XDD I love this one SO MUCH- - More Armoves (The Armorer x Axe Woves) and some fluff ! - A Bridgerton fic with both Benedict and Sophie but with a twist ! _ Two linked DND fics (post-apo with mermaid zombies and all, I love this setting so much. One is basically my character's journal entry and the other is the scene/setting and plot.

What's already posted: Armoves: 1./ "Les Enchaînés", 1789 French Revolution Settings (to celebrate Armovesary this 14th of July) 2./ "Dead Men Tell No Tales", POTC Settings Armoves. 3./ "Blasters, Bedtimes, and Big Dreams", Angst but loads of fluff too !!! 4./ "A Beskar Lunchbox", FLUFF, like pure fluff 5./ "Melting Desires", Smut and spicyyyyyyy 6./ "Whispers of Change", Sweet, fluff, comfort fic with those two. One of my favs <3 7./ "From a Child's Heart", CUTE and basically Ellie making a gift for father's day and this is adorable ! 8./ "Drifting through Sundari's Heart", Pacific Rim settings and this one will be updated soon !! 9./ "Sweet Nothings", Ellie can't sleep and she comes to see him. Cute stuff ! 10./ "Heat of the Moment", Slightly spicy but nothing shameless whatsoever. 11./ "An Armor-ous Affair", Slightly spicy and first Armoves fic ever posted ! 12./ "Whispers of the Faithless", Started as a joke but hey, Armoves church sex, has been posted on a Sunday X'))) Dinbo (since this "StaraJel" insists on AO3, keeps telling nasty stuff to get some lmao + this person who told me and the Armoves squad that we needed to "put that energy towards Dinbo instead" annoy me so damn much, lemme remind you how much I wrote for them): 1./ "Of Snuggles and Squeals", Fluff and cute. Din and Bo get a cute pet and Grogu is in love with it. 2./ "Steel and Starlight", My precious baby and first Dinbo fic who just hit the +7k !! T-T 3./ "Sundari's Sunshine", Coffee Shop Dinbo AU ! Cute ! 4./ "Beskar's Tears", Uh-oh, angst but has a happy ending ! 5./ "The Warrior's Muse", Din writes poetry about Bo ! 6./ "Frostbitten Fury", Bo gets hurt and Din is here to save the day/her ! 7./ "A Mother's Love", Supernatural AU for Dinbo ! 8./ "A Gilded Cage", Bridgerton AU for them, cute and I really like this one ! 9./ "To the Edge of the World", POTC Dinbo ! 10./ "A Mandalorian Fury", Hunger Games Dinbo AU ! 11./ "Love and Broth", Grogu is sick so Din and Bo take care if that little one ! 12./ "Clinging to Comfort", Bo is sick, Din and Grogu take care of her ! 13./ "Aftermath", Shameless smut, shower sex 14./ "Patuu", Father's day for Din 15./ "Lady Kryze", Smut ahead 16./ "A Gauntlet's Night", Grogu has a nightmare and Dinbo is being adorable with him And so much more here !! Am I being salty ? Definitely. Because I hate people coming on my stuff and telling me what " I should be doing", especially when it comes to free, detailed and constant content. I have 40 fics available already and I think that's quite a lot and seeing the "you should be focus on x" instead is straight up annoying when clearly I have all of this available. So if you can't be a decent human being, feel free to fck right off. I do all of this because I want to, because I love it and I just hate seeing people (who don't even write) come on my stuff to criticize. If you want something: do it. " You are never better served than by yourself"_ Charles-Guillaume Étienne (1777-1845)

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nancypullen · 3 months

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Sunday Evening

There are about ten different things I should be doing right now, but I am the queen of procrastination so here I am on the ol' blog. It was a very long week. I have such mixed feelings about the job. The people are absolutely wonderful. The work is interesting and beneficial. But the schedule is...unpleasant. Well, I say that as a person who doesn't really have a schedule. I had to ask several times if I could maybe know my work days/hours at least a week in advance. I'm there 8.5 hours but take a mandatory 1 hour unpaid lunch. So I work 7.5 hours most days, though I worked just 5 on Saturday. They are long days. I suppose I had the idea that part-time would be 20-ish hours a week. Looks like the plan is to work me just under the cut off between part/full time. Not having a set schedule in advance makes it really hard to plan any sort of normal life. For example, the Edgewaters have been asking me if I'm off on Feb. 10th to celebrate the grandgirl's 6th birthday. It's 12 days away and I still can't tell them yes or no. How can I make a doctor's appointment or even schedule a haircut? You don't call anywhere around here and get in quickly, so it would be nice to have, say, a month's schedule to reference when trying to make an appointment. I get the impression that it's not looked upon favorably if you throw a wrench in the works and request particular days off. I guess I'll ride it out and see if it gets better, maybe because I'm the newbie they're just seeing if I survive before locking me into the work calendar? Every time I asked, no one seemed to think it was a big deal. It's a big deal to me, I like to plan my life and get my ducks in a row - not knowing my works days/hours ten or twelve days out rattles me. Really hoping that part gets better.

.I'm a minimum of twenty yeas older than everyone at work, thirty years older than most of them. I feel like a fossil. Actually, the director is around my age, but she has put in her retirement notice. So I show up in my old lady glory and try not to grunt or groan when I get up from shelving books on the lowest shelf. I've had to move boxes, tables, racks of chairs, wood and glass bookcases and pretend that my sciatica isn't flaring up. There is a lot of ibuprofen involved. This is how I feel there...

but they're all nice to me because their mamas raised them to respect their elders. I was at the circulation desk one morning and talking to another employee who is not yet thirty. I realized that I could easily be her grandmother.

The eternal optimist in me says to keep plugging away and everything will settle into place and I'll just be the nice old lady at the library. The part of my brain that always yells, "FLEE! You don't belong here!" is screaming in my ear. Luckily, the eternal optimist occupies about 90% of my gray matter, so she usually wins. Onward, onward, onward. I mentioned that on Saturday I was off work at 2 o'clock. Shortly after that the Edgewaters came over and brought their pizza oven. That was a treat. They made gourmet pizzas for our dinner and we had a wonderful visit. Little Miss kept me busy with Barbies and books, and I plied her with cupcakes. They left today around 3 o'clock and the mister and I are sitting here now wondering if we even want to bother with dinner tonight. I'm ready for bed. The workweek is staring me in the face and I'm not ready. Have I whined enough? I swear I'm not unhappy, just tired. I'd give my right arm for 5 hour work days (like Saturday) instead of 8.5. Mickey has been amazing - actually cleaning and cooking! I have no reasons to complain. So I should probably shut up. That said, we're moving forward and starting to plan a 40th anniversary trip. I'm crossing my fingers that they'll grant me unpaid leave. As a part-time employee I don't accrue vacation days, so I guess we'll see how all of that plays out. Yikes.

I'm boring myself sick with this post and I can't imagine that it's been at all interesting or entertaining to read. I'll wait a couple of days and try to post something worth reading. There have been amusing incidents at the library, but I hesitate to write about any of it because this is a small town and my name is on the blog. I'll have to find my way with that. I certainly wouldn't name names or embarrass anyone. Oh well, I'm off to ready my clothes for work and pack a lunch. I'll try to keep a Mary frame of mind. No one I work with would get that reference.

I'm so old.

*sigh* Until next time - stay safe, stay well. Sending out loads of love. XOXO, Nancy

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years

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Happy Sirius and Harry Saturday! I don’t know if you were still looking for prompts, or if you’ve also written something similar before… but I had one for Sirius finding out about Umbridge’s quill and the scar on Harry’s hand, or alternatively, Sirius finding out about Harry living in a cupboard.

Or, for a bit of fluff… Sirius being a jungle gym for toddler Harry, child Harry and even teenage Harry (before he hits a growth spurt) and then Grandad Sirius being a jungle gym for all his grandkids and absolutely loving it. He will stand for hours with his arms up, so the kids can swing from them, he will let them climb on his shoulders so they can feel tall… I have to credit you and Miss Imp for the inspiration behind this hc though, you both posted about it, and the image has been haunting me (in a good way)

Finally, I just had to say, I finished reading ten reasons (including the bonus you posted - Harry giving Remus the shovel talk!!) and I’m absolutely in love with the relationship between Harry and Sirius. It was beautifully written!

Anon! Firstly, thank you for the love on my fourth-born midwestern child. I am...always so pleasantly surprised with what people seem to like about this story (all my stories, really) and Harry and Sirius in this seemed to hit for a lot of people, even when they don't particularly enjoy Kid Fics. I also get a little chuckle because Harry had approximately...three ish scenes in this whole fic and stole the damn show.

Second, I love both of these. I will probably dribble with the jungle gym one later (I also want to dribble with the idea of Sirius just being bad at being a infrastructure. Like Harry is so uninterested in running his taxi cab along Sirius's legs, and tells Sirius he's shaped funny. But REMUS. Remus is roadway material, and Harry's there like Moony, please teach Sirius how to be better at being a street.)

but because it's sad sirius sunday, we shall do the first one (also, tis short. if i could find it, @zazima has a great drabble to this prompt as well and handles these things much better than I, so 10/10 recommend checking out her blog) .... <3

Harry was Sirius's favorite thing to pay attention to. That title had previously belonged to Remus, but his boyfriend had been dethroned the second Sirius got custody of Harry, name cleared and free to resume Godfatherly duties. Harry was top of Sirius's list and these days one of his only priorities. Sirius would've noticed the new red mark on Harry's hand even if his godson hadn't been absently scratching at it after dinner when they were all gathered in the sitting room, enjoying cups of tea and conversation. He was across the room from Harry when he noticed the scratching and the way Harry pulled his sweater sleeve over his hand when he noticed Sirius was looking, immediately casting his eyes down to the ground, smile fading.

So Sirius waited until the house had quieted before making his way to Harry's bedroom, trying to prepare himself with guesses of what the mark could've been from and why Harry was trying to hide it. Quidditch? A duel in the hallway? A physical fight? Had Harry scratched himself on something in Number 12 and not wanted to tell him?

Sirius knocked on the door of Harry's bedroom, waiting for a response as he always did before entering. Harry was in the process of getting ready for bed, sweatshirt from the day on the floor as Harry rummaged through his trunk--the one that wasn't unpacked just yet- for pajamas to put on.

"Er...sorry, I'll pick that up," Harry said looking at the sweatshirt on the floor, "I know it goes in the hamper."

"It's alright," Sirius assured him, a teenagers discarded clothing the least of his concerns. He moved to sit on Harry's bed, remembering something he had read about neutral positions for conversations with teenagers. Especially challenging ones. Sirius was two heads taller than Harry at this point, Sirius used to taking seats when he spoke with his godson to even out eye contact, and the bed seemed more approachable than a desk chair or leaning against his dresser. "You have time to unpack and get that sorted."

"I know..." Harry looked down at the ground again, toe scuffing at the carpet.

Sirius knew why he was in there and Harry did as well. It was common for Sirius to come say goodnight, walking in to give Harry a kiss on the top of his head before leaving once again. Sitting wasn't part of it. Nor was the silence that enveloped the entire room as Sirius thought carefully of what to say.

"Whatever it is, I'm not angry."

"You don't even know, you can't say that."

"Sure I can, and I mean it too. I'm not angry," Sirius continued, "I...would like to see your hand though, make sure you're not hurt."

"It's...fine."

"Or lotion? You keep scratching it."

"Dunno," Harry responded, still looking at the floor, drawing patterns with his toe on the carpet.

"New hand? I think Bill has nice hands. We could offer to swap," Sirius said, and he could see a tiny smile on Harry's face. His godson looked like he wanted the Earth to swallow him hole, more so than usual. Harry walked with a weight on his shoulders, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to take some of it from him.

"Frankenstein..."

"What?"

"Oh...muggle thing. For Halloween. Also, a book, dunno...you should read more, Sirius."

Sirius laughed softy, and waited another second for Harry to pick his head up, "Can I take a look at your hand?"

An eternity went by. Sirius sitting on the bed, hair greying and eyes wrinkled before Harry moved from the spot in the center of the floor to stand in front of Sirius, extending his hand.

I must not tell lies.

Clear as day. Scarred. Raised.

"...Harry."

"I...told you I had detention with Umbridge. She had me write lines...."

A chill ran down Sirius's spine as he put some pieces together quickly with the very little context Harry provided. A blood quill. Sirius inhaled deeply, shoving the impulse to go shout at Dumbledore deep down and locking it inside a box to save for later. Sirius had been keeping a tally, a chart, of the Headmaster's offenses, waiting for dust to settle just enough for it to be appropriate to storm his office. When the day came, Sirius was certain he'd be standing there for hours, scarcely stopping to breathe let alone censor himself and right now, the top of the list, was allowing a teacher to use a blood quill as appropriate punishment.

"You're mad," Harry said quickly and quietly, "I knew you'd be mad, I told you you would be mad and you're not saying anything because you don't want me to know you're mad but...I know you are and that's why it's fine, I swear, Sirius."

"When?"

"Dunno."

"You don't know?"

"Me teling you isn't going help anything..."

"I'm not mad at you."

"Still mad."

"A bit," Sirius admitted, running his thumb over the scarred words as if trying to rub them away. If he pressed hard enough, they would heal. If he showed up enough this time around, the holes from Harry's past would soon have flowers in them. Sirius could be enough for all the adults who had let Harry down.

"This shouldn't have happened."

"Yeah but it did and I can't change it, and it doesn't matter," Harry mumbled, though he hadn't pulled his hand away from Sirius's, despite how dismissive his tone was.

"It matters."

"No."

"Hate to break it to you, but it absolutely does," Sirius said lightly, "Look at me, please." Harry groaned, refusing to lift his head, mumbling something Sirius couldn't make out. But Sirius waited yet again until Harry met his gaze, teeth worrying his lower lip. "This....doesn't happen again. Yeah?" He said firmly, but gently. A tone that he was still trying to master, figuring out that was what worked best with his teenager. Too soft, and Harry wouldn't hear a word. Too hard, and Harry shut down.

Balancing the scales.

"I dunno what you want me to do, if I have detention with her, then I have detention with her and that's just--"

"You tell me."

"I can't do anything about it though! What's the point if--"

"You tell me," Sirius repeated.

"I'm telling you now that it doesn't--"

Sirius reached up and put his hand under Harry's chin, catching his attention and wrapping up the worry coming off his godson, "You tell me. That is what you do."

"But--"

"Here we can practice right now; tell me something."

Harry scowled, "My godfather's being an annoying prick."

"See? Wasn't so hard, was it?" Sirius grinned but sobered quickly, "You, my love, might not be able to do anything about it...you're exactly right, and you're a student. I'm not sure I would want you to do anything about it...but I can. And I will."

"But--"

"I'll keep my head, I promise you that, even if I am mad, but...babe, you need to tell me." Sirius dropped his hand from Harry's chin. "I love you too much and you matter the most to me."

Another pause. Static.

"Hey...Sirius?"

"Hm?"

"I had detention with Umbridge, and she made me use a quill that...I don't really understand it. But my hand has been itchy....burns sometimes...I guess."

"Let's take care of that then."

#sad sirius sunday #sirius and harry saturday #both! its both!#asks #grey answers #sirius black #harry potter

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shannendoherty-fans · 7 months

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Shannen Doherty Tears Up as She Receives a Standing Ovation During the 'Beverly Hills, 90210' Panel at 90s Con

The 'BH, 90210' cast came together once again at 90s Con, this time in Tampa, Florida, with Doherty giving fans an update on her cancer journey

By Nikki Dobrin andAlexia Fernández

Published on September 17, 2023 05:29PM EDT

Shannen Doherty had an emotional reunion with her Beverly Hills, 90210 castmates this weekend.

Original cast members from the popular '90s teen drama — including Doherty, Tori Spelling, Jason Priestley, Jennie Garth, Ian Ziering, Brian Austin Green and Gabrielle Carteris — came together on stage Sunday to discuss the series and take questions from fans during a 90s Con panel hosted by PEOPLE Senior Editor Breanne L. Heldman in Tampa, Florida.

Toward the end of the panel, Doherty, who has stage 4 breast cancer, received a standing ovation from the audience, causing her to tear up.

"Thank you so much," an emotional Doherty, 52, said to the crowd. "You guys know how much I love crying constantly. And I do, it seems. So, thank you."

In June, Doherty shared that the cancer had spread to her brain and posted a video on Instagram of her undergoing radiation therapy. She had a tumor removed from her head after a CT scan determined that the cancer cells spread from their original site to the brain. "I have a fight for my life, that I deal with every day," Doherty said on Sunday. "I think I am really great."

Doherty joked about something else she thinks she's great at. "My other profession is getting engaged, married and divorced, and I'm doing that very well," said the star, who split in April from her third husband, photographer Kurt Iswarienko after 11 years of marriage.

Next up, Doherty — best known for starring as Brenda Walsh on Beverly Hills, 90210 andPrue Halliwell on Charmed — will launch a podcast in November.

"It’s going to be called Let’s Be Clear, and it’s a live interactive memoir," Doherty shared on Sunday. "So you get to hear everything that I’ve refused to say before. I’m spilling the tea, but nicely!"

She also talked up 50-year-old Green's podcast, Old-ish. "It’s amazing," Doherty said. "So make sure you’re listening to it. Thank you for your love."

Doherty has been open about her cancer journey for years. She was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015, which went into remission in 2017. She then announced in 2020 that her cancer had returned.

“Our life doesn’t end the minute we get that diagnosis," she told Good Morning America in February 2020. "We still have some living to do.”

During the Charmed panel at 90s Con in Connecticut in March, also moderated by Heldman, Doherty gave a positive update on her health.

In June, Doherty offered another update about the surgery she underwent in January. "January 12, the first round of radiation took place," Doherty explained, alongside an Instagram video of her receiving radiation therapy. "My fear is obvious. I am extremely claustrophobic, and there was a lot going on in my life."

Doherty admitted she felt scared before the surgery. "The fear was overwhelming to me. Scared of all possible bad outcomes, worried about leaving my mom and how that would impact her," she said on Instagram. "Worried that I would come out of surgery not me anymore. This is what cancer can look like.”

In August, as she continued undergoing treatment for breast cancer, Doherty was photographed vacationing on Italy's Amalfi Coast in the fishing village of Nerano, diningal fresco with friends.

Beverly Hills, 90210 aired on Fox from 1990 to 2000 for 10 seasons. There were several spin-offs, including Melrose Place and The Heights, and also a 90210 reboot series featuring some original cast members that aired on The CW between 2008 and 2013. Additionally, the short-lived revival BH90210 aired in 2019.

Over the years, the BH90210 castmates stayed friendly and have been seen together at various events, including last March for the second 90s Con, held at the Connecticut Convention Center.

90s Con Florida began Friday at the Tampa Convention Center and wrapped Sunday. Event organizer That's 4 Entertainment also held a number of other major cast reunions during the convention, including Full House, Saved by the Bell and Charmed.

PHOTOS: Thats4Entertainment/ADRIAN RUIZ

#shannen doherty #90s Con #2023 #events #article #People #2023 Shannen Doherty #2023 articles #People Sept 17 2023 #Beverly Hills 90210 #Tori Spelling #Jennie Garth #Brian Austin Green #Jason Priestley #Gabrielle Carteris #Ian ziering #2023 events #news

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dancingkirby · 1 year

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The Sim(p)s GX Part 6: Someone gets PEGGED!! (And it's probably not who you think it is): Take Two

Okay, let's try this again. Yesterday I spent what must have been a solid half-hour putting this post together, only to have it be flagged immediately after I posted it. So this time, I'm unfortunately going to have to remove a few of the screencaps. Sigh.

WARNING: Discussion of morning sickness/vomiting, without pictures.

Manjoume did so well at his job that he decided to take a little snooze at the end.

Meanwhile, things weren't going so smoothly for Asuka. She struggled a lot more with morning sickness than Ekou or Taniya did, and it wasn't confined to just the morning. At one point, she threw up three times in the span of 12 hours, then 5-6 times in the span of 24 hours. I think it was about 8-10 times total. And if THAT wasn't enough, Rachel came over one day and proceeded to spend hours playing on the computer and insulting everyone, only heading home around midnight. If I was a social worker, I think I'd be pretty worried about that kid; her parents don't seem to care where she goes/what she does when she's not at school. Although considering how self-destructive said parents are in canon, it's plausible.

One morning, Manjoume and Asuka decided to get married at the spur of the moment, and I don't like that it takes you right to the event and you have to know to make preparations ahead of time. But things went okay-ish. They had Fubuki, Neo, and Rachel as witnesses because those are the only people it let me invite.

Immediately after, Asuka ran off to play chess with Fubuki. This went fine for all of about 2.5 seconds, and then they started arguing again.

Fast-forward to the third trimester, and Asuka was starting to get a little gloomy.

Although Neo tried to cheer her up as best he could.

She went into labor on Friday night in-game, around 10:30. Manjoume was quite a bit more helpful than Misawa was. He was flirty for much of the time, but did manage to keep it in his pants! Here he is giving Asuka a back massage.

The home birth option is new to the Realistic Childbirth mod, and may still have some minor bugs. I tried to get Manjoume to be in the birthing pool for the delivery, but his sim kept insisting that something was blocking the way. In the end, he settled for hanging out in the next room over, giving Neo a bath, while Izumi was born on 7:53 AM Sunday. (Izumi is actually the name of Manjoume's daughter by Rei in one of my fanfics.)

I got a HUGE scare immediately after, where it seemed like Izumi had failed to spawn properly in the bassinet and I was getting warning notifications that she was getting really hungry. However, that got fixed just by backing out into Worlds and then clicking on the household again.

Asuka: "You feed her first, Manjoume-kun. I'm tired. ZZZZZ"

Now that that storyline was over, I popped in to the other houses. Anna aged up into a toddler, although this Sim looks more like Taniya and Misawa's second child in my fics, Sasha. The "real" Anna takes after her father.

Manjoume visited a crime scene, which turned out to be the EXACT SAME house as the first one, except this time Yubel AND Fubuki were there! (I think Rei was too but I couldn't get her in the picture.) Very, very suspicious.

Judai and Yubel, in their efforts to have a baby of their own, went on a date to the gym and had a great time in the women's locker room, flirting with everyone. Apparently, though, Taniya wasn't feeling it.

Unfortunately, this did not result in a pregnancy, since the sex notification popped up right when they were going home, and they both instantly fell asleep upon their return. Also, there were some other issues, which I'll detail in the next part...if I can get enough material for the next part.

And finally, what you've all been waiting for! The person to get pegged was...none other than Amon! By his loving wife Ekou, of course. My favorite thing to happen since the alien mpreg. I got screencaps, which were glorious, but I can't post them because Tumblr threw a hissy fit. :( Even though I personally added black censor bars to all the naughty bits in Paint.

All right...as alluded to previously, I've been having trouble coming up with a coherent Part 7. A lot of random stuff has happened, and I've gotten some good screencaps, but some of my plans fell apart and it's been difficult to find any sort of plotline. But I think I might finally be onto something. And now, I should probably start on my Tigershipping porn oneshot idea. Maybe if I say I'm going to do it, it'll make it more likely that I actually will, since if I didn't it would be Lying (TM).

#yugioh gx #the sims 4 #valentineshipping

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shireentheunburnt · 2 years

Text

GENERAL ROLEPLAY STYLE AND PREFERENCES

BOLD : applies to you. ITALICS : only applies to you sometimes. STRIKETHROUGH : does not apply to you. elaborate on any points you’d like with an *

TYPES OF ROLEPLAY / HOW I DO THREADS: I don’t. I just do whatever is on my dash when I'm online. mainly asks. I do little short things mostly. I do my threads on discord. long - running threads that slowly build upon the muses.

PLOTTING PREFERENCES: wing it. get a general idea ooc, run with it and plot further if need be. long expansive thought out arcs

TYPES OF THREADS I DO / PREFER: one - liners only. whatever dash shenanigans I’m online for. para or multi - para. literal novels

REPLY SPEED FOR THREADS AND CONSISTENCY KEEPING THREADS: I lose threads all the time and usually get back to them. I tend to lose threads but please tell me if I have and I’ll reply. I drop threads pretty quickly. I'm really slow but I will get back to you. I reply on a schedule / queue. I usually reply within a week. I reply every day. I reply almost instantly.

ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL SHIPS: I don’t do these ships. I'm not against them happening but it is not the main point of my blog. ships will have to be discussed a lot ooc. super chemistry based. I love doing ships, hmu I probably already ship it so just ask. I ship really quickly. autoship or ship within a few interactions. I mainly rp for the cute ship fluff or angsty smut.*

SMUT: I do not do smut at all. I'm very selective about it. I only do it on a separate blog / on discord. I mainly only do asks relating to nsfw headcanons on Sundays. I write it a medium amount. I write it all the time and love to. I am comfortable with foreplay and fade - to - blacks (for the comfort of my writing partner) but nothing further.*

*(For both shipping and smut: Ships can happen on this blog (Shireen having a boyfriend or girlfriend could be sweet), but not smut as Shireen is underage. Mun does do shipping and smut roleplay with adult muses, and you might see this on other blogs.)

ACTIVE HOURS: mornings, 8 – 10. midday, 11 – 1. afternoon, 2 – 5. evenings, 6 – 8. night, 9 – 12. ungodly hours of the day, 1 – onwards.*

*(Tends to be in the evenings for weekdays then at all hours over weekends/holidays.)

ACTIVITY SCHEDULE: super slow and sporadic, like once a month or so. slow and sporadic, week - long gaps between activity. bi - weekly ish. weekly activity. daily activity. I'm online nearly all the time. (on mobile)

STARTERS: I don’t do starter calls. I want to do starter calls but often don’t have time. I do selective calls. I don’t do calls but always feel free to ask me for one. I post calls rarely, regularly, often.

AUS: I don’t do aus. my blog is an au but outside of that I don’t do them. I sometimes do them but only with a lot of plotting. I have a couple of aus already, feel free to request them. I have aus coming out of my ears, please interact with them. I love making aus, hmu to plot if you think of one. there are some aus I won’t do.

CROSSOVERS: I don’t do crossovers. I'm selective with crossovers. I love crossovers.

I’m happy to rp with canon muses and OCs alike :-)

This Roleplay Guide is credited to @sparringett

Tagged by: @arthur-rex

Tagging: @snuggleberg @eveiine @notenoughmuses @thecassandradimitrescu @sacrificialmaiid

+Anyone else whom would like to :-)

#GENERAL ROLEPLAY STYLE AND PREFERENCES #arthur-rex #arthurrex #thank you :-)#snuggleberg #eveiine #notenoughmuses #thecassandradimitrescu #sacrificialmaiid #sparringett

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woolspun · 2 years

Text

GENERAL ROLEPLAY STYLE & PREFERENCES

BOLD : applies to you. ITALICS : only applies to you sometimes. STRIKETHROUGH : does not apply to you. elaborate on any points you’d like with an *

TYPES OF ROLEPLAY / HOW I DO THREADS: I don’t. I just do whatever is on my dash when I’m online. mainly asks. I do little short things mostly. I do my threads on discord. long - running threads that slowly build upon the muses*. ( * i’ll continue a thread until it seems exhausted or there’s a good place to stop, typically. )

PLOTTING PREFERENCES: wing it. get a general idea ooc, run with it and plot further if need be. long expansive thought out arcs. ( i’ll do it all, babey. )

TYPES OF THREADS I DO / PREFER: one - liners only. whatever dash shenanigans I’m online for. para or multi - para. literal novels*. ( * honestly, my novels are done usually via discord, though i think i’ve done a post here and there that took a few hours to write because it was p heavy with lore ? i can’t remember. )

REPLY SPEED FOR THREADS AND CONSISTENCY KEEPING THREADS: I lose threads all the time and usually get back to them. I tend to lose threads but please tell me if I have and I’ll reply. I drop threads pretty quickly. I’m really slow but I will get back to you*. I reply on a schedule / queue. I usually reply within a week. I reply every day. I reply almost instantly. ( * i can be slow or fast. it depends on what’s going on in my life. )

ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL SHIPS: I don’t do these ships. I’m not against them happening but it is not the main point of my blog*. ships will have to be discussed a lot ooc**. super chemistry based. I love doing ships, hmu I probably already ship it so just ask. I ship really quickly. autoship or ship within a few interactions. I mainly rp for the cute ship fluff or angsty smut. ( * i feel weird as an original character because generally most people think i am actively hunting for ships, so i tend to be kinda closed off with them. ) ( ** honestly i’m very easy to get ‘ into ‘ a ship, but it can be awkward doing ship things with someone who i don’t talk to. i spend a lot of my work and school day sitting silently while busy ofc, so i tend to have a backlog of things to talk about for funsies. )

SMUT: I do not do smut at all. I’m very selective about it*. I only do it on a separate blog / on discord. I mainly only do asks relating to nsfw headcanons on Sundays. I write it a medium amount. I write it all the time and love to. I am comfortable with foreplay and fade - to - blacks but nothing further. ( * i’ve written smut on this blog once or twice as standalone things. i’m okay with writing it, but i do love a slowburn buildup or something similar to that. )

ACTIVE HOURS: mornings, 8 – 10. midday, 11 – 1. afternoon, 2 – 5. evenings, 6 – 8. night, 9 – 12. ungodly hours of the day, 1 – onwards. ( * i don’t have an answer for this. it’s literally all over the place. )

ACTIVITY SCHEDULE: super slow and sporadic, like once a month or so. slow and sporadic, week - long gaps between activity*. bi - weekly ish. weekly activity. daily activity. I’m online nearly all the time. ( * i’m in dental school and i have a lot of projects + tests. sometimes i go awhile with my activity, but i do check the app and such. )

STARTERS: I don’t do starter calls. I want to do starter calls but often don’t have time*. I do selective calls. I don’t do calls but always feel free to ask me for one. I post calls rarely, regularly, often. ( * lmao too shy to bother. )

AUS: I don’t do aus. my blog is an au but outside of that I don’t do them. i sometimes do them but only with a lot of plotting. I have a couple of aus already, feel free to request them. I have aus coming out of my ears, please interact with them. I love making aus, hmu to plot if you think of one. there are some aus I won’t do.

CROSSOVERS: I don’t do crossovers. I’m selective with crossovers. I love crossovers.

Tagged: i stole from @eternasci Tagging: whoever would like to, please help yourself !

#Ꮚ•ꈊ•Ꮚ ❝ THE MORE YOU KNOW RAINBOW GIF ! ❞ ( psa. )#// long post #Ꮚ•ꈊ•Ꮚ ❝ T POSING ON A SHITTY WOODEN CHAIR ! ❞ ( out of character. )#i ignored the strikethrough thing cause it'd get too confusing lmao

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ggukkiereads · 3 years

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hi hii I was wondering if you had any taekook x reader fics ? 🙈 , also wondering if I could I go as 🗯 anon if that's okay? I love ur recs so much and ur page is a LIFESAVER , ily bae <3

🌷 Dear 🗯️ anon! I am sorry for answering so late. My drafts are all messed up but I was able to focus on this. On my 📍 pinned post, I actually asked if you meant love triangles or MMF smut but you didn't reply. So, I'll just put both =)

Enjoy! Much love and credit goes to all these wonderful writers who brought these fics to life 💖🥳

TaeKook Fics (Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook)

Love Triangle/s

M/M/F Smutty One Shots/Series

#ReadwithMe (fics in my reading queue/planning to read)

Love Triangle

All I Want @ardentlyjae - series [6/6] | 126k | War AU, Soldier!Taehyung | Heavy Angst, S

I actually read this on AO3 but I realized it’s on tumblr too. I remember this fic every time I hear Kodaline’s All I Want, which the fic was inspired by

Anima Meaology @arckook - series [5/5] | 26k | Soulmate AU, soulmate glitch (those with mismatched tattoos on their wrist) | A, F

I read this long ago on AO3 when I had this soulmate AU-fixation phase and I saw it on tumblr recently. Just had to read it again 🥺

Aquarium, Part 2 @whatifyoulivelikethat - two shot | 6.9k | cheating/infidelity, healing/comfort, second chances | A, F

I really like this comfort fic 🥰. Also shows that people deserve second chances, even the person who caused so much hurt. Screamed about it here and here

Change @junghelioseok - series [10/10] | 39.2k | a kind handsome stranger (Taehyung) makes you question your deteriorating relationship (Jungkook) | A, S, F

can I just say that Taehyung is such a sweetheart here 🥰? I always envision Paris Taehyung 2018 in this

Everything Goes @jamaisjoons - one shot | 24k | Fuckboy!Taehyung, Bestfriend!Taehyung, Stranger!Jungkook, unrequited love | A, S (really angsty)

First Light @inktae - one shot | 24k | Bestfriend!Taehyung, Masked Jungkook who can’t seem to leave the forest, Fantasy AU, based on hotarubi no mori e | F

If you’ve seen my fic recs list, inktae is always part of my recs. The way they write is just emotionally and visually haunting. Their works are just masterpieces. This is beautifully heartbreaking and heartbreakingly beautiful.

House of Cards @aiimaginesbts - series [10/10] | 40k | infidelity au, taehyung in an arranged marriage with someone else, roommate Jungkook | A, S, F

don’t we all want to have a roommate like Jungkook who will be there to comfort you over your heartbreak over someone else?

Stealing the Bite by wildernessuntothemselves - series [6/6] | 37k | witch!reader x werewolf!taehyung x vampire!jungkook, supernatural au, fantasy au | S, A

I mentioned before that some are divided re the ending, so I wonder what’s going to be the reactions of others

The Muse @daddychims - one shot | 30k | Author!Reader, Bestfriend!Taehyung, Fuckboy!Taehyung, Coworker!Jungkook, Taehyung offered OC to watch him have sex with another so she could write an erotic scene | S, A, F

The Universe of Us (read on mobile) @/taesthetes (officially closed her account) - one shot | 21k | Dream AU, Fantasy, Slice of Life, Kimi no Nawa-inspired | F, A

I am never going to shut up about this fic lol. It’s not exactly a love triangle, ugh hard to explain but please read this wonderful fic. Check their other KTH x R x JJK soulmate fic Cloud Ten too.

When You Least Expect @johobi - series [12/14 + drabble] | 118k | Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, Childhood Friend Taehyung, set up with another guy (Jungkook) | S, A, F

ugh, I want to put another tag about Jungkook but I guess it’s a surprise. I just love the drama 🍿

🌷 I’m forgetting two more fics but I’ll update this once I remember. I haven’t read recently released fics too! I’ll add if there are good ones that come along

MMF Smutty One Shots/Series

A Piece of You @httpjeon - one shot | 13.9k | abo dynamics, camboy AU, camgirl AU, fan jungkook joins the cam session | S, F

All’s Fair @kimvtae - one shot | 13k | soulmate AU, college AU, dating Taehyung for a year but different name (Jungkook) showed up on OC’s wrist (lol it’s not a problem if you can get them both) | S

Blacklisted @/httpjeon - one shot | 21k | dom/sub AU, CEO AU, “after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men” | A, F, S

Business @btssmutgalore - two shot | 28.9k | executive!reader, inventors/start-up owners taekook | S (seriously, how could I have missed including this here)

Dulce Periculum @forgottenpasta - two shot [2/2] | 16k | Hybrid AU, Tiger Hybrid!Tae, Owner!Reader, Wolf Hybrid!Jungkook | S, A, F

Easy Like Sunday Morning @ofsugakookies - one shot | 11.8k | boyfriend AU (yes, both of them), dom!taehyung, sub!jungkook | S, PWP

It Takes Two To Make A Thing Go Right @imaginethisbts - two shot [2/2] 11.6k | Hybrid AU (dog hybrids) | S, A (side note: I realized I’ve read all of their fics! give their masterlist a try)

Just Kidding @/whatifyoulivelikethat - series [5/?] | 21.1k+ | nympho OC, friend Taehyung, tae’s roommate Jungkook | S, kinda F, crack

this is actually fun 😊; and the episodes are written in a drabble-ish sort of way so you won’t feel like it needs to be updated to get the story moving. It’s basically just reading fun scenarios of nympho OC and these two satisfying her needs *wink wink

Not So Digital @jiminables - sequel to Digital Boy | 2.7k | camboy!taehyung, bestfriend!jungkook, short mxm | S, slight F

Playing to Win @tayegi - one shot | 8.6k | FWB AU (tae), sort of enemies to lovers (jungkook), TaeKook (mxm), originally Taehyung x OC (fwb) | S

okay this is one of my favorites! I’m amazed at how the power dynamics were written. Taehyung seems a dom with OC but with Jungkook he is all soft and sub; then, there’s that dynamic between Jungkook and OC who disliked each other originally. I just found the shifting so interesting and the writer was able to display these changes in dom/sub behavior among the three characters really well

Pour Up @jungkxook - one shot | 14k | fuckboy AU, fratboy AU (applies to two of them), one sassy OC, one kind of jealous Koo | S (thank you dear author for reposting this! 🥰)

Shhh @bang-tan-bitches - drabble (with OT7 sequel) | 2.7k | PWP (just pure hot imagine)

Shameless @imaginethisbts - one shot | 5.1k | established relationship (jungkook x oc), Taehyung’s POV, exhibitionism | S (not exactly threesome, because JK and OC are just doing it in front of people, Taehyung had a bit of action in the end)

Sugar & Spice @divine-bangtan - one shot | 20.8k | Kiki’s Delivery Service!AU, Baker AU, Noona AU, Assistant!Jungkook, Rich!Taehyung, pining Koo, a bit of M x M | S, F, A (it’s all good everyone ends up happy 😊)

Sugar and Spice @sunkissedjk - two shot [2/2] | 8.6k | Your friends ask you whether you prefer sugar (jjk) or spice (kth) | S

ugh this is such an indulgent imagine. If taekook are your friends and they help you decide what type of sex you prefer through a demonstration, wouldn’t you want for multiple demos before deciding? *wink wink

Sacrilegious @therealmintedmango - part of the Gods and Monsters series | 15.6k | Demon!Jungkook, Fallen Angel!Reader, God!Taehyung | S (so sinful 😈💦)

Sweat Pea @nitaescence - series [10/10] | 63k | DDLG!AU, caregiver!jungkook, caregiver!taehyung, little!oc | S, F, A

so I’m glad there was an ask about caregiver!jungkook because I remembered this. I actually checked if there’s a follow up drabble because the ending is open to any interpretation so I’m curious how other readers interpreted it

051 + Scum’s Wish @scriptmin - one shot | 3k | bestfriend!jungkook, pining!oc (unrequited), rebound!taehyung | S, A

it’s actually kind of sad 😭 but I added this because it's good to have variety. Not all smutty pieces will be a happy one

Tattooed Two @/httpjeon - one shot | 8.5k | tattoo artist AU, boyfriend Jungkook joined by his bestfriend Taehyung | S, F

The Doms Next Door @tatertotthethot - series [3.1/?] | 33.8k+ | BDSM AU, Poly, Neighbor AU, Tattoo Artist AU | S

I really love this series. It’s so funny too, I remember Jimin here - he’s THAT bestfriend you want to have. PLUS TaeKook are absolutely hot. If you're not interested in being a sub or partaking in bdsm, you will reconsider

The Hush Series @suga-kookiemonster - two shot [2/2] | 16.9k | coworker’s friends TaeKook, sort of E2L (Jungkook), dom!taehyung, a bit of voyeurism | | S

okay, I really like author’s writing. It can be about sinful delicious smut scenes but I noticed the members always have this developed characterization. I actually find Taehyung so adorably charming - makes me wonder if irl tae is secretly sinful too behind that sweetness lol

Thic Trilogy @btsinned - series [3/7] | 37k+ | CEO AU, Hybrid AU, College AU, Chubby!Reader | S, F, A

🌷 I’m throwing in fics in my reading queue #ReadwithMe

Attitude Adjustment @s0seo - one shot | 11.8k | Roommate AU | S

Chain Reaction @kissmetae - one shot | 3.2k | boyfriend Taehyung and friend Jungkook helping OC relax | S

Cherry @kpopstories - series [4/?] | 29k+ | college AU, fuckboy AU, love triangle | A, S, F (this is part of my ongoing reading list)

Cobalt Blue @hauntedlilies - one shot | 11.3k | artist AU, “you asked Jungkook to draw you like one of his french girls” | S

When You’re Mad @honeyj00ns - one shot | 3.8k | established relationship (boyfriend Jungkook), enemies to lovers Taehyung, Taehyung is JK’s bestfriend, Christmas AU, College AU| S

Madam Cupcake @craztextae - series [6/?] | 69.2k+ | Sugarbaby AU, Idolverse, idol!jungkook meets OC through an app called “sugarmamas(.)com” | S, F

Player Two @minjoonalist - one shot | 10.6k | Gamer!Jungkook, Boyfriend!Jungkook, Boyfriend!Taehyung, Brat!Reader | S

Tag Team @goodnight-tae - one shot | 5.2k | stripper AU, TaeKook are roommates and friends who share most things 😉 | S, PWP

Whoa @bangtanlalaland - one shot | 4.7k | skater!taehyung, 1970s AU, coworker!jungkook | S, PWP, Crack

posted: 2021 March 12; updated: 2021 May 12

link to other fic recs here

feel free to recommend a fic

#🌷 chats #taekook x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic recs #taehyung fic recs #taekook smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #ggukkiereadingcollection #🗯 anon #asks #bts x reader #bts smut

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears. You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard. The best part? You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main. He might just love you.

alt summary. Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing. jeon jungkook

genre + rating. fluffy crack, smut. explicit.

warning / tags. long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish), eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch, oral (f receiving), fingering, enough sweetness you’ll get cavities.

reading. n/a. a three part one-shot.

word count. ~8400

part iii.

JUNGKOOK’S HOTEL ROOM Sunday, 3 May, 2020. 12:20 AM (LA), 4:20 PM (Seoul).

There’s nothing quite like the feeling after a show. How it crowds cavities behind his molars and sets his heart off on a marathon, exhilaration colouring his cheeks and stealing his voice. It’s something he’ll never get tired of - all the best parts of this journey presented on a silver platter.

Still, he thinks talking to you might be a close second.

“I can’t understand a single thing you’re saying,” you chide, playfully, with a mouthful of granola. It crunch crunch crunches in his ears, blocking the sound of his own laughter, ringing and half out of breath.

“I said I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy. Things have just been—” Crazy? Out of this world? Some kind of wonderful? “—hectic.” He all but throws himself across his bed, the luxurious hotel sheets soft against his still overheated cheek. It feels nice but steals the strength of his voice, muffling his words as he continues, like a runaway train with no destination in mind.

You laugh at him as you always do, mirth sprinkled over teasing like little treasures to be found among the vowels and consonants. “It’s fine , Jay.” The name - not his name - rolls off your tongue, dragged out by the giggles you can’t help. “I know you’re a busy guy. Don’t worry about it.”

Easier said than done, Jungkook thinks. You’ve been on his mind every day, in between the practices and the performances. A silhouette shaped like you - not that he knows how you’re shaped - existing in the recesses of his thoughts.

“Anyway, I finally stopped losing SR so it’s not all bad...”

He doesn’t register what you’re saying. Not at first, anyway. But when he does? He’s belligerent, the loudest shriek rocketing out of his chest as he dissolves into laughter. So you were a little bit better than him. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself, sandbag.”

Your mockery shouldn’t have the dumbest smile spreading like wildfire but it does, the expression eating up every ounce of his exhausted self. He can’t fight it, glee working itself every which way until he’s on his back, staring up at the ceiling as his jaw aches.

“You’re mean,” he manages in between the teeth-numbing joy, chest heaving.

He’s certain you don’t mean it the way he takes it. “And yet you love it.”

God, if only you knew.

He wants to tell you so badly - wants to shout it from the rooftops until he’s blue in the face and without a voice. He thinks he’d have a chance, maybe, if your passed secrets at midnight and tender goodnights were any indication.

But he can’t, because he’s him and you’re, well, you, and really, it’s just his fault.

“Did you die?” You steal him out of his reverie, tearing him wholly from inside that overthinking head of his. It’s one of the things you’re best at (other than keeping him alive in Overwatch).

He sighs and it’s a wistful sound, softer than any other that’s passed between you since getting on the phone fifteen minutes ago. “I’m good, yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? I thought I might’ve lost you for a second.”

The playfulness has returned, rounding syllables in a way that’s very distinctly you.

“Yes, Mom .”

“Watch it or you’re grounded, young man!”

“Do you even know how old I am?” Probably not, because he doesn’t know that about you either.

For all of the secrets you’ve shared, these very basic pieces of information are ones you’ve never exchanged. They’ve always been held tightly to the chest, held hostage behind sharp gates of enamel. There was too much at stake when it came to these identifiers.

Sure, you’d told him about your greatest fear - losing one of your parents without being able to say goodbye - and sure, he’d told you his - not being good enough and letting the people he loves down even when he’s trying as hard as he can - but your ages? Where you grew up? Your real names? That was out of the question.

“Are you about to tell me you’re sixteen? Have I been friends with a high school student this whole time?” You’re chuckling at your own genius. He really doesn't think you’re that funny - low hanging fruit and all that - but he likes the way it sounds, curling out of your mouth like smoke.

“I’m actually twelve . Geez, get it right.”

You gasp, scandalized and as if you really believe him. It makes him choke on his own spit and he has to roll over onto his stomach, effectively trapping his phone between his chest and the bed as he struggles to regulate his breathing.

“I’ve always wanted a little brother!”

It’s a joke. Obviously , it’s a joke. He shouldn’t take it seriously.

And yet he’s fueled with the need to rebuff it, speaking before he has a chance to stop it, the words coming in a flurry. It’s a verbal snowstorm, locking the conversation in place - like Mei’s ultimate except he’s trapped in it, too. “I have something to tell you.” There’s no going back now.

For once, you’re not tearing holes in his confidence - not that you ever do with any sort of animosity. Your relationship was equal parts give and take, honey and vinegar coexisting in perfect harmony.

When Jungkook doesn’t immediately continue, you give him a little push. “Spit it out, Jay.”

“My name isn’t Jay.” A small, insecure part of him worries that that’s enough to shatter the careful friendship you’ve crafted. You - Jinny, the ineffable - remain surprisingly silent. He’s not sure whether that’s encouraging or disheartening. “I… haven’t really been honest with you.”

Already he can feel the nervous energy in his limbs, anxiety replacing the high he’d been on only an hour ago.

“I’m…” How does he start? “I’m not just… some guy.” Okay, that sounds bad. He’s backtracking. “I mean, I’m a guy. I’m normal.” This is going so poorly. His breath catches in his throat, teeth worrying incessantly over the soft cherry Chapsticked contour of his bottom lip. “I’m just not, y’know, your average guy. I’m actually like, uh...”

Jungkook has never stuttered this much in his entire goddamn life.

“My name’s Jeon Jungkook and I’m the golden maknae of Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

It comes in such a rush that you probably don’t hear it clearly. He’s introduced himself this same way for over half a decade and even it sounds strange to his ears.

When you don’t respond after what feels like an eternity, he’s left to his own devices, filling the silence with the erratic beating of his heart.

“Jinny?” It comes smaller than he means it to, uncertain and filled with hesitation. Still, nothing. He wants to toss himself off the 37th floor balcony so he doesn’t have to feel this way. “Can you say something?”

Your voice is far more measured than his own. You’re trying to be serious, he thinks. “I… kind of - sort of - already knew?”

Well, he hadn’t expected that.

“What?”

“I mean, the other members don’t exactly knock before they barge into your room screaming your name.” A beat. He can hear the laughter that’s threatening to knock your words into submission. “ And you posted a cover of a song I sent you.”

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit .

That was definitely his fault. It’d just been so good - living in his head and in his heart rent-free. “ Never Not’s a good song!” He retorts, like that’s an appropriate rebuttal.

“I know, doofus.”

“You’re the doofus!”

The two of you were back, glazing over the revelation like it was nothing more than a little bump in the road.

“Thank you for telling me, though.” He imagines you’re smiling - can practically hear it in your voice. Somehow, it feels different. Sunnier than usual, blinding in its intensity. “I wasn’t sure if you ever would.”

“Would you have been mad if I didn’t?” Though he asks, he’s not sure if he’s ready for the answer.

“Of course not.”

“Really?”

You’re only a little exasperated when you reassure him. “Of course not. You’re still you - no matter what you do.”

Whatever best case scenario he’d imagined doesn’t hold a candle to this. He’s a million miles over the moon. You must be able to tell because he can hear you stifling sound, trails of laughter buzzing around in his ears like hummingbirds.

“So, what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now’ ? Didn’t you hear what I just said?” There’s no venom in your words. “You’re still you, Jay.”

“It’s Jungkook.” There’s that unabashed need to hear his name. He hopes it isn’t too obvious.

“I know but that’s gonna be hard to get used to.”

“Is your real name Jinny?” He’s always wondered.

“It’s Yoojin. Jinny’s just my nickname.”

“Well, Jinny—” He says it dragged out and silly. “—want to come to one of our shows?”

“I live in Seoul.”

“So what?”

The second time sounds exactly like the first. He snorts. “I live in Seoul .”

"I’ll fly you to Osaka.”

It’s the first time he’s heard you genuinely shocked. It strips the usual mischief from your tone, draping it in lily white and baby’s breath. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He doesn’t think he’s wanted anything more. At least, not in a very long time.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

It sounds better than he could have ever imagined.

KYOCERA DOME OSAKA Thursday, 23 July, 2020. 10 PM.

Does he smell bad? Should he have showered first? Would you be grossed out?

These are all the thoughts running through his mind, chasing themselves in circles like a dog after its own tail. They revolve in a neverending merry-go-round, creasing worry into his brow and dropping his mouth into a little O-shaped pout.

“You ready, Jungkookie?” Jimin’s doing what he does best - draping himself across his maknae’s shoulders without a care in the world.

“Are you nervous?” Hobi’s swiping through his phone, dark hair a stylishly dishevelled mess around his angelic face. He’s still got traces of makeup around his eyes and his clip-on earrings glint under fluorescent light.

A hand lands hard on his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle in a way that’s meant to be reassuring. “Of course he is.” Namjoon can read him like a book, shooting Jungkook his signature smile in the same instance he receives one.

“I’m not nervous!” The youngest chirps in a voice that warbles like a baby bird.

Everyone laughs at that and he can feel his ears burning around the edge of his baseball cap. It creeps over the shell and down his neck, descending blossoms of colour into the collar of his shirt.

“Shouldn’t you get going?” It’s Yoongi that reminds him of the time, the rapper only barely cracking an eye open as he taps the face of his steel-cased Audemars Piguet. He’s right.

Jungkook jolts out of his seat, scrambling to his feet - all four thousand dollars of his designer boots - and nearly knocks Jimin off the back of the couch he’d been precariously balanced on. The overeager bunny shouts an apology that’s lost amongst even louder laughter as he tears out of the room.

He’s going to be late .

He doesn’t think he’s ever ran so fast in his life - darting past bicycling seniors and tourists with all the grace of a boy in love. He somehow manages to find the entrance of the BIC CAMERA store without much hassle, rooting himself just left of the door when his phone screen registers 10:30 PM.

A little triumphant whoop! presses into the sponge-like material of his facemask in the same moment he catches sight of a waving hand.

He’s not sure whether it’s the mask or the sight of you that’s making it hard to breathe.

“Hi.” You sound exactly like you always have and yet six months of hearing your voice somehow doesn't prepare him for it. It hits him like a ton of bricks, crashing his resolve into the soles of his feet. There’s something about you that makes him squint - like staring directly at the sun. His heart stutters in his chest. He thinks, dimly, he can hear bells in the distance. It’s probably from a food stall, but he doesn’t care.

It’s the first meeting he’s always dreamed of, wrapped up in an adorable pink Cooky headband.

He’s scooping you into his arms before he can think better of it, twirling you around like the princess you are. It probably isn’t appropriate - you’ve only just met - but he can’t resist. You feel so good in his arms, weightless and yet entirely grounding.

The fact that you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck, easily reciprocating his onslaught of affection, doesn't go unnoticed. He tucks away this knowledge into the sleeve of his shirt for safekeeping.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound very sorry at all. You’re back on your two feet, black military boots of your own on solid ground once again.

Standing so close, he can smell your perfume. Its notes of vanilla and cola and something powdery, reminiscent of babies and home. You’re smaller than he imagined, with narrow shoulders and wide hips. Like him, you look to be about 95% leg, faded blue denim hugging your thighs and falling loosely around the tops of your Doc Martens. Your top is long-sleeved but semi-sheer and he can make out what he thinks are inkings over your skin, little trails in greyscale and colour that draw his stare.

Stop being weird , he tells himself when he finally manages to refocus, tearing his gaze from the jasmine branches that traverse your limbs and training it on your eyes instead.

Bad idea, Jungkook.

He’s lost in the colour of your irises - an impossibly dark brown that twinkles under the awning lights - and the heart-shaped turn of your jaw. He’s all too distracted by the high contours of your cheeks, the turn of your button nose, the dusty pink that fills the shape of your mouth and fades prettily against your skin.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” The way your lips move should be a chargeable offence. They coax into a smirk that’s equal parts soft and vexing, singular dimple presenting itself with the motion.

God, he’s so in over his head. He can feel it in his bones.

So he laughs - because that’s what he does when he’s unnerved - and the sound is a pack of hyenas. It’s Lion King on Broadway, sweeping above the already boisterous cacophony of the entertainment district.

“Your laugh is even better in person.” You’ve said better and not worse and even though he’s a little self-conscious - a decidedly not Jungkook-like thing to be - he preens from the praise.

“Yeah?” Can you see the hearts in his eyes? He imagines they’ve replaced his pupils.

“Yeah. But don’t let that get to your head, mister.”

“Already has - sorry.”

You laugh in sync and it’s music to his ears - the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

The two of you fall into your routine in a way that feels effortless, the back and forth banter rivalling that of best friends.

You tease him mercilessly, picking up on all his little idiosyncrasies - how he stands at stop lights, pigeon-toed and adorable; how he jams his hands into the back pocket of his jeans in tandem with the tips of his ears burning bright red; how his laugh sometimes trips over itself and splinters like a kid going through puberty. He doesn’t mind any of it, truthfully, because it means you’re paying attention to him just as much as he is you.

Because he sees all of your little habits too - watches them unfold before his eyes in technicolour. You bite your own lip when you think you’ve said something particularly funny. You wiggle your head on your shoulders like a bobblehead when he says something snappy, equally biting remarks softened by the way you bob up and down. You don’t step on cracks, even if it means you’re straining those strangely long legs of yours to carry yourself a few inches further.

You don’t have any patience - something he’s known since the beginning - but that he realizes with a front row seat when you’re shoving a takoyaki into his face. There’s steam curling off it and the smell is intoxicating but he can practically feel the roof of his mouth burning when you’re relentlessly offering it to him. You’re not even deterred by the fact that he’s got a facemask on.

“Open up!”

Jungkook wants to say no - should say no, for the sake of his own health - but he accepts it anyway.

It sears white hot pain the moment it lands on his tongue, teeth buzzing uncomfortably as he bites into the dough. He’s sucking air in through his teeth, the cold barely doing anything to alleviate the sting. He probably looks stupid as hell.

Of course, you’re laughing at him, lips curled in on themselves as you try to choke back the sound.

“Too hot?” You coo, feigning surprise. You do feel a little bad - he can see it in the flex of your jaw, how your bamboo stick-wielding hand lingers in the space between you. “My bad.”

He chews once, twice - tries to keep it to a minimum because holy shit , does it hurt - before swallowing. It burns on the way down. “You eat one now.” He’s pushing the tray towards you, long fingers curled around yours as he all but tries to make you face plant into the plate.

“I don’t like squid,” you deadpan, lying through those neat white teeth of yours. You’d literally made takoyaki at home a few weeks ago. He’d dared you to put an entire wasabi ball into one and you’d done it.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up!”

So it goes for the rest of the night, trading insults over street food. You share an ice cream-filled melon pan - well, he orders one and you eat all of it but a bite - and you scroll through your phone as he inhales a bowl of ramen. He catches you taking a picture of him when he’s halfway through slurping noodles into his mouth like a Hoover. You look a little sheepish when he swallows and levels you with a look that screams unimpressed.

“Is this okay?” You’re a little uncertain and it’s the cutest thing he’s seen all night, teeth catching your bottom lip. He wonders, briefly, what it’d be like to do that to you instead.

You beam when he reassures you. “Of course.”

“I won’t post it anywhere.”

He wants to tell you that’s okay, too, but he knows he shouldn’t. Instead, he simply returns your smile and goes about finishing his bowl of broth. You take a few more photos - of his face when he’s full-belied and satisfied, of the street where people mingle and mix, of the stupidly big moving crab sign across the way.

He wonders if you can feel it too - the connection that crackles between you like a livewire.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you return your attention to him in the same instant he’s glossing over the shape of your lips, the turn of your nose. “I’ll pay you back.”

Before he realizes what’s happening, your hand is on his. You don’t do very much, simply allowing your palm to rest over his, fingers curled around the seam of his thumb. It’s so much smaller - complete with neatly manicured lilac nails - that he stares down at it for a beat too long.

You start to pull away - he sees it happening almost in slow motion - when he flips his own, catching your wrist in his grasp. “No need,” he mumbles, not quite looking at you. He’s still too focused on the way your hands fit together like two puzzle pieces.

“We’ll see about that,” you return, equally as soft.

Everything feels a little fuzzy, like you’re wrapped up in cotton candy and cloud nine.

You must feel it too.

But then you’re standing and you’re not holding his hand any longer and he thinks maybe he’s imagining it all over again. It leaves him heartsick, reaching for your figure that’s already too far away.

“We should head back - I have an early flight tomorrow.”

Damn him and his poor planning skills. He should’ve booked you something later in the day. Why had he thought the 9 AM departure was the best idea?

“Right.” He lifts himself off of the wooden bench, returning his facemask to its rightful place as he closes the distance between you in four easy strides. He tries to ignore the way you smile at him when you’re back together, matching pace through the somehow still-packed streets.

There’s no playful ribbing now. The schoolyard mockery is replaced with a comfortable silence that sinks into his bones and brushes his hand against yours every time you have to squeeze past a gaggle of people that just won’t move. It’s familiar without being boring, satisfying the big fat crush that lives in his heart.

It settles even further when you do the same, head gentle against the curve of his shoulder.

“Did you have fun?” He finally asks when the familiar silhouette of the Conrad Hotel comes into view, your driver rolling to a complete stop right in front of the impressive glass structure.

You hum something that sounds like yes as he pays and thanks the driver in the softest Japanese before he ushers you out of the back of the cab. You’re smiling at him, heavy-lidded and with a tenderness he doesn’t expect. You must be tired.

“More than I’ve ever had.” There’s a certain truth to your words, whether it’s from your sleepy state or something else. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to,” he reminds you, guiding you past the concierge with a palm on the small of your back. It’s intimate in a way he’s not really sure is appropriate but you don’t seem to mind, all too happy to be herded around like a baby duckling.

“Stop saying that.” There’s no weight behind your words - only sandman’s dust and starry-eyed affection. Jungkook’s heart plays a staccato rhythm in his chest as he steps into the lift behind you, crowded against the far right wall. Mozart would be proud.

Trapped in the small six by six area, his breath seems too loud. The roar of his pulse in his ears is deafening. He barely hears his own words when they stumble out of their own accord.

“I like you.”

Your laugh is the sweetest he’s ever heard. “I know.”

“You do?” He rounds on you in the same breath, your body mirroring his subconsciously.

“Of course I do.” You’re so confident he absorbs a little bit of it, stepping closer when you do. “I’m your safe place - and you’re mine, too.”

His hands are shaking when they crowd your face, thumbs gentle over the jut of your chin. “Can I kiss you?” Spoken like a child asking for a Christmas gift, full of wonder and hope.

“Hm.” The vibration of your sigh is felt through his fingers all the way down to his toes.

He decides for you, closing the distance with a roll of his shoulders.

Kissing you is unlike anything he could’ve ever imagined. It’s better than his wildest dreams. It’s soft and sweet and done with the utmost care, like you’ll break if he isn’t careful. You taste as good as you smell - the citrusy tang of your lip gloss reminding him of Lotte World lemonade and picnics on the Han River.

“I’m sorry.” It’s an unnecessary apology that gets lost against your lips - because he isn’t quite ready to let go of you yet. “I couldn’t help it.”

“You’re forgiven, I guess .”

When you speak, it’s kissing in its most basic form, mouth brushing over his with each enunciation. He wonders what it’d be like to have you sing a song for him like this. He decides he wants to find out as soon as possible. Needs it like he needs air - or more of you. Either or.

“Thanks.”

You laugh together and kiss again and again, repeating the motion like overeager high school students behind the bleachers. He grazes your forehead, pressing sweetness into the tops of your eyelids and you return the favour, sweeping delight over the sharp turn of his jaw and over skin not hidden by the collar of his button-down.

You’re so involved that you hardly notice when the lift doors slide open, revealing the empty hallway of the 33rd floor. You break away first, though it’s not without some resistance - both his and yours. He wants to keep you here with him as long as he can, because it feels like where you belong .

“I’ll see you.” A last kiss - lingering, longing, littered with words neither of you say.

And then you’re gone.

JINNY’S APARTMENT Saturday, 5 September, 2020. 2:45 PM.

You live in a nondescript apartment in a nondescript neighbourhood with trimmed hedges and a crisp white exterior. There’s a doormat - grey, a little frayed at the edges, polka-dotted - and nothing else. No sign on your door, just the number 134 stamped on the right-hand side, half a foot away from the window that looks into the open-air hallway.

You answer the door on the first knock, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like you’d been lingering just behind the frame, waiting for his arrival. Your hair’s shiny and freshly washed, damp at the ends where you haven’t wicked all the moisture away. You look comfortable - if not a little overexcited - bouncing from sock-clad foot to sock-clad foot in your low slung sweatpants and oversized tee shirt. He can see half a dozen plants just behind your bobbing head, his gaze bouncing between pretty ceramic and terracotta pots.

“I half expected you to live in a PC bang,” Jungkook states, drole and with that trademark grin of his, nose scrunched and eyes waning.

You counter him easily. “You haven’t even been inside. Maybe it’s all a front.”

He snickers at the thought, stepping over the threshold once you’ve taken a step back. It smells like cinnamon and sugar - he wonders if you’ve been baking - and he peers curiously around the apartment.

“It’s a candle,” you supply before he has a chance to ask, reading the question in his stare.

“You mean you didn’t bake me a cake?”

You offer an extended scoff in place of an answer, rolling your eyes as he unlaces his boots. “What for? Your birthday’s already passed.”

“It might not have.”

“It literally has. I know your birthday.”

Right. Because he’s him and that’s sort of common knowledge.

He chuckles to himself as he sets his boots aside, right beside where yours sit, near identical. He doesn’t need to say anything when he hears you sniff, Rilakkuma-tipped sock nudging his hand away from where it threatens to upend the piece of footwear.

“I had them before I met you.”

“Right.” It’s too easy to tease you - just as it’s too easy to rib him. This is how the two of you are. Schoolchildren with big crushes and near zero emotional maturity.

“Do you want a tour or are you just gonna be some weirdo with a foot fetish?”

He meets your stare then, both of your expressions ice cold. If looks could kill .

You crack before he does, though your laughter melds together like a perfect harmony, ricocheting off the art-covered walls.

“Fine, fine. Show me around.”

So you do - with gusto and great pride. It rolls off you in waves, tangible in the cascade of your hair over your shoulder and the way you beam up at him. You’re like a kid at show-and-tell.

You guide him into the living area - a small space with a comfortable, worn-in grey couch and probably more throw pillows and blankets than is strictly speaking necessary. There are framed pieces on the wall and it’s the contents that surprise him. There’s Mercy playing pool, bent over the table in a revealing Playboy bunny one piece; there’s D.Va in a hoodie and little else, bottles of soju littering both the back and foreground.

Where the walls are bare, there’s other stuff taking up the space. Artfully positioned floating shelves house succulents and cacti. A well-cared for Monstera sits in a far corner, taking up more space than it probably should. Nestled among its soil are little Animal Crossing Amiibos - Cyrus and Reese, to be exact. There’s an all-white cabinet with a glass front and some of the most random stuff he’s ever seen: limited edition Gunpla, a Taiko Drum, and your framed university degree (for accounting, to his great surprise).

“Is that a Widow bobblehead?” He spies it last, sitting on the cabinet that houses an impressive array of gaming consoles. You even have a VR headset, the cords neatly looped together and tucked away beside a maneki neko-shaped piggy bank.

“Maybe.”

“You really are a dork.”

“Says the bigger dork? Really?”

He could dispute that - easily - but he doesn’t, instead shrugging it off as he flops onto the couch, feet immediately kicking themselves up.

“What’re you doing?” You join him even as you ask. He’s a little disappointed by the polite amount of space you leave - just enough that you’re not touching.

“I’m tired.”

“I haven’t finished the tour.”

“Tour schmore .”

You scowl at him and it’s so charming that he wishes you were just a little closer. He’d kiss that look right off your face if it were up to him.

“What do you want to do then?” Where the stuffed animal comes from, he’s not sure. It’s more than a little ratty, soft brown fur faded from what looks like years and years of love. You hold it tight, clutched to your chest as you recline against the far arm.

“Watch the Runaway and Lunatic-Hai show matches?”

You level him with a look that very much tells him he is the bigger nerd. He doesn’t mind, though. He’s been wanting to watch these matches for months since it was first announced.

Unfortunately, you’d promised each other you’d only watch it together, so really, this was your fault.

You must suddenly remember that, because you’re biting back the words he’s sure were about to tear into him, swallowing them whole as you grab your PS4 controller and begin silently navigating through YouTube. He smiles, a little triumphant thing he knows you can see from the corner of your eye.

“Happy?” Resentment mixes with excitement as you return your controller to its rightful home and settle yourself once more against the too-many pillows.

“No.” Jungkook worries for your neck when you whip to look at him, brow furrowed and mouth blown out in a pout.

“Why not?”

He memorizes the way you look right now, framed against sunlight that spills through your windows and hugging what he assumes is your childhood teddy bear. It’s an immediate serotonin boost.

“Because you’re all the way over there.” He sighs, long and loud, head swinging in a dramatic semi-circle. He can hear you snickering despite yourself - could pick it out in a crowd of thousands, he thinks - and suddenly you’re beside him, distance closed in a heartbeat.

With you so close, it’s hard to think, his thoughts jumbled and tripping over themselves.

“Better?” You must know the effect you have on him, because you’re batting those goddamn eyelashes up at him, mouth dancing around his favourite sound in the world.

“Much,” he hums, unashamed.

“Welcome home, Kook.” The way you say it sparks fireworks in his chest. He knows you mean home as in the city of Seoul, but it feels like more and he likes that - just like how he likes you and this little piece of normalcy.

It feels good to be here with you, seemingly without a care in the world.

It’s distinctly different from anything he’s used to - even better than the long hours spent bonding on the internet. There’s no worry here, no nagging in the back of his mind, no concern that one of his hyungs will burst into his room. It’s just you and him and commentary on his favourite game.

That is, until it’s just him and commentary on his favourite game. He’d lost you somewhere along the way, roughly three hours in. He hadn’t noticed at first, far too focused on the big brain plays unravelling across the screen, but when you started snoring, he knew.

You just snored so damn loudly.

“Jinny.” He feels bad when he has to rouse you, the feeling in his right leg but a distant memory.

You don’t move. He wonders when the last time you slept was.

“Jinny,” he repeats himself, a little louder this time. There’s the beginning of stirrings, your head drifting from its position on his shoulder to nestle into the crease of the couch cushions. “Do you want me to take you to bed?”

It doesn’t immediately dawn on Jungkook how that sounds.

“Wouldn’t you like that,” you mumble into the woven fabric, half-asleep.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You’re doing that thing you do when you’re impressed with yourself, teeth littering your bottom lip with indentations. It’s more distracting than it should be, paired with those bedroom eyes he’s not certain you’re in control of.

Get it together , he scolds himself. In his mind, the angel powerbombs the devil into submission.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“No! Not yet.” You’re waving a boneless wrist in his direction, like you’re swatting away an irksome fly. It’s cute, in a frazzled sort of way.

“You want to sleep out here?” He knows you don’t - you’ve complained about it enough times when you wake up with kinks in your neck and soreness in your back.

“No!” A huff puffs out your cheeks, blows your grown-out bangs away from your face. You’re sitting up now, slowly but surely. There are creases all over your face - an ode to the couch. He has to keep from laughing right at you - bites it back with a bitten tongue when you sniff and card a hand over through your hair. “I have a gift for you.”

You say it so sweetly, he can’t help himself.

“Is it you?”

He’s honestly not sure what to expect once he’s spoken. He half thinks you’ll laugh, shove him away from you with a giggle and a roll of your eyes. He hopes you won’t, though - can feel every fibre of his being strung tight with anticipation and hope and the request of please, love me .

“Do you want it to be?” You’re looking at him with the strangest expression. He can’t read it at all, despite how easily he normally does. It’s white noise, static on a television screen.

Uncertainty grips him. “I do.”

“Then I’m yours.”

It’s music to his ears - the key to his heart. It strips away the doubt, turning it on its head.

He finally does what he’s wanted to for the past four hours.

When he kisses you this time, it’s different. It’s urgent but not rushed; he takes his time in exploring the softness of your lips, how they fall open under his careful ministrations. His mouth slants, coaxes you to give everything to him as his tongue passes tentatively over yours. You taste like lemons again - and a touch of honey.

It’s intoxicating and addictive and he chases the high it gives him, large hands finding purchase against the back of your head and the slope of your jaw. Fingers thread through your hair - gentle at first, then with more purpose. He maneuvers you how he needs you and peppers kisses everywhere he can reach. Your eyelids, your nose, your neck.

When he ghosts his mouth across your shoulder - mouthing hot over the soft cotton of your shirt - and finds that particular point where your pulse beats, you gasp.

He’d thought your laugh was his favourite sound but he realizes now how wrong he was.

“Do that again.” You say it together, in perfect sync.

Laughter blooms between you and he muffles his against your throat, nosing over where your perfume lingers most. He inhales once, twice, and holds you somehow closer, all but dragging you into his lap. “You’re my dream girl, you know that?” The words are surprisingly sweet, given the compromising position you’re currently in.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You thread your fingers just as he has, twirling through his just-on-the-right-side-of-too-long strands.

He moves to pull away, a scoff building in his throat, but you’re having none of it, capturing his lips the moment he’s made up his mind. You really could read him like a book. He wonders what you’re thinking now, starts running through possibilities when you bite down just so on his pouting bottom lip.

A not-so-subtle hint to get out of his own head.

“Stop thinking,” you hum, lending your voice to his thoughts.

“Sorry,” he returns in kind, tracing an apologetic tongue over the seam of your lips.

“Show me how sorry.”

You sound positively sinful and while it isn’t the answer he’d expected, it stirs something within him - from his chest to somewhere decidedly further south. He stifles a moan, caging it behind bared teeth as he becomes suddenly far too aware of how you’re making him feel.

“You’re playing with fire, baby.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like it was made for you.

“It’s fine - I have self-healing.”

It’s so fucking dorky but somehow, even that makes Jungkook groan. “Seriously - dream girl.”

And then he’s kissing you again and again, a devoted parishioner of your church. They’re this-side of innocent at first, little pecks that dot every sliver of available flesh. His hands roam in tandem with his mouth, flitting beneath the cropped hem of your top before gliding greedily across the tops of your thighs.

“Can I get the rest of the tour now?” He looks like the devil himself, all dishevelled dark hair and that heart-wrenching, lopsided smile.

You’re impatient though - always have been. “Straight down the hall. Last door to the left.”

It’s all he needs to know before he’s on his feet, rising with you as if you were featherlight. Your ankles lock around his waist, clinging to him like the cutest koala he’s ever seen. He doesn’t look away - frankly, can’t – as he follows your directions, gaze trained on your eyes and your lips and the column of your throat he wants to see blooming with roses.

“I’m crazy about you,” he announces, suddenly, as he nudges open your bedroom door.

“I know.” You say it a lot. He wonders if you really know.

By the way you kiss him, he thinks you might have an idea. It’s not enough, though. He wants to show you - needs to show you.

You allow yourself to be tossed upon your bed - soft grey sheets, no stuffed animals in sight, too many pillows again - and he hovers above you, curious. “Are you sure you know?” The question is punctuated by the drop of his knee, cotton of his black joggers a stark contrast to the soft linens.

You’re not sure if this is a game - he can read the question swimming in your eyes. “Maybe?” You’re upspeaking, which is something you never do. It’s disarming in a way that makes him want to hear it again, but with his name over and over.

“Maybe?” He echoes, brow quirked and mouth twisted into an expression that starts butterflies in your stomach. It’s like a switch has flipped. For the first time, he’s the heartthrob you’ve seen on stage, the one fansites rave about with fervour. A force to be reckoned with . “Let me make it clear then?”

It’s spoken like a question, though it begs no answer. You’d give him anything he wanted.

“Can I?” You don’t think you have it in you to respond - not when he’s looking at you the way he is, from behind dark lashes and with the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. But he needs an answer - won’t go further until he has one.

“Yes,” you breathe in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like your own, far too airy and mellifluous.

He looks like a kid who’s had his heart’s greatest wish granted. There’s unbridled joy spilling into every crevice, streaming out of every pore as he lowers himself onto the bed. You’re trapped beneath him - knees situated comfortably on either side of your legs - when his hands find the shorn hem of your shirt, tugging gently at the offending article of clothing.

“Off,” he says simply. It’s gone before you can think twice. Your sweatpants and socks follow in quick succession - he snorts a laugh when he has to tug your socks off by the ears on either side of your ankles - until you’re left in only black cotton that covers hardly anything at all.

Jungkook sighs a sound that shoots straight into the belly of the beast, sparking warmth in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He sees the uncertainty in your eyes, hands reaching to cover the places you’ve been self-conscious about since you were old enough to understand what bullying was. The modest swell of your chest, the tiger stripes along your hips.

Words are fitted with motion, hands of his own sweeping your arms away from your body. Long fingers curl easily around the dainty turn of your wrist. “Please don’t hide from me.”

You can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.

“Tell me about these?” He means your tattoos, of course. They’re intricate works of art that span nearly a quarter of your flesh, painting grayscale and colour over cream. There’s the jasmine he’d spotted the night you met, coiled around your left forearm and up to your bicep in stark ink. Across your stomach, from the top of your right thigh and over your ribs, are intricate peonies in shades of pink and red and green. Everywhere lines bloom, etched forever into your skin, his mouth follows. He can��t ingrain himself in the same ways but he tries, searing devotion in the form of kisses.

It tickles when he ghosts over your ribs with both tongue and teeth and it’s absolutely indescribable when he catches your nipple between enamel.

You make that sweet sound he so loves - a heady mix between a gasp and a moan - and he repeats the motion. You hardly realize he’s speaking when he does it for the third time and adds nimble fingers to pinch and pull the other into the same pebbled state.

“ Tell me.” He sounds like he’s laughing, trapped halfway down your body with his cheek pressed to the modest swell of your chest.

You’re not sure how you get the words out. “My mom’s a big gardener. She calls me her flower.”

“Her flower, huh?” The question is muffled among your humble cleavage.

“Did I stutter?” That earns you a sharp tweak to your nipple, the pain shooting pleasure through your limbs in a very unexpected way. You’ve never been one for pain but the sight of Jungkook staring up at you, head cocked and hands full - well, there’s a first time for everything.

“You want to be nicer to me,” he states solemnly, like he’s commenting on the weather or the 6 o’clock news and not palming your tits in his much larger hands and drawing out the sweetest murmurs of encouragement.

“I am nice to you,” you retort - or try to at least. You hardly get it out before it’s chased out by another one of those lovely sounds that Jungkook seems to be obsessed with.

“ Nicer , baby.”

As if to drive his point home, he straightens out, face suddenly dangerously close. He crowds you with his entire frame, mouth finding yours easily. It’s not the same sort of kisses you’ve shared all evening; it’s a display of dominance, a reminder that articulates more than he can say.

It’s also a distraction, you realize belatedly, with a gasp tearing its way out of your throat.

Capable hands have found their mark, digits sweeping beneath the seam of your thong. He lingers just shy of where you desperately want him, expertly trailing featherlight touches through your folds. He never goes further - doesn’t stretch where you need him most. He’s careful not to brush your clit, focusing instead on the way you’re coating his fingers.

The shit-eating grin never leaves his lips - which never leave your mouth. He swallows your whines in the same instant he’s pulling them forth, playing you like a fiddle without even really doing anything.

“Can you do that for me?” He coos against your neck, that damned voice of his dripping liquid gold into your ears.

You have to focus hard on what he’s saying because his touch is so distracting. “What?”

“I said—” It stings where his mouth connects, where his teeth nip and spill wine over porcelain. He’s painting the prettiest pictures, signing his name in the form of broken capillaries. “—can you be nice to me?”

You’d like to respond - really, you would - but he punctuates the question with the glide of his finger and you can’t do anything but arch into the sudden intrusion. It feels so good and yet isn’t nearly enough.

“Kook.” You’ve never sounded this whiny in your life. Even his name - one single syllable - hardly makes it past your lips without descending into a cry.

“Use your words , angel.”

If every nerve ending didn’t feel like it was on fire, you might’ve yelled at him. Instead, you can hardly form a coherent thought. You’re too far gone, standing on the edge of a cliff as he teases you open with slow, measured pumps of his wrist.

“I need—” He’s crooking the single digit within you, right against that spot that makes you see stars.

“What do you need? Ask nicely.”

“M-more. I need m-more .” A hiccup. “Please.”

“Like this?” You’re empty all at once and then suddenly far more full, the stretch of two fingers stealing the breath from your throat. “Or like this?” The pad of his thumb finds your clit with ease, sweeping over the sensitive bundle of nerves once, twice, three times. “Maybe like this?”

He repeats his earlier movements, curling his knuckles in a come hither motion that has you sobbing out his name.

“That’s right.” Ever the gentleman, he works you through your high, watching your face in rapt fascination as your first orgasm of the night crests and crashes over you, sending shockwaves through your system. He admires the way your mouth falls open - full lips rounding in delight - and how your eyes screw shut.

You’re the hottest thing Jeon Jungkook has ever seen.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your temple, never ceasing the slow drag of his fingers, the carefully measured flick of his thumb. Even when you’re trembling with oversensitivity, he doesn’t relent, choosing instead to reposition.

His weight is gone as he settles between your legs, knees folded beneath him. He only pauses his needy actions - almost doesn’t, when your hips roll in an apparent attempt to draw him back in - to strip you of your thong, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder.

“Give me another, okay?”

You aren’t given a chance to answer before he slips two fingers back where they belong and seals his mouth over your clit. The coil he’d snapped earlier returns, tension increased tenfold as he alternates between sucking hard and licking, dragging his tongue over and around his fingers. There’s too much stimulation. You’re obscenely wet and you’re certain you’d be making a mess, if not for the careful way Jungkook’s devouring you whole, licking up every bit of slick.

“Kook. Jungkook .” His name sounds like heaven coming off your lips. He replays it over and over in his head as he fucks his fingers into you, tapping a brutal rhythm against your g-spot. He can tell you’re close again - can read it in the way your jaw tenses and your breathing goes erratic, lungs heaving.

“Come on, baby. Let go.” The second orgasm hits harder, arching your back off the mattress as you fight to keep your knees from snapping shut. You come with a hoarse cry, legs trembling like a leaf with the effort. “That’s my girl.”

He’s upon you again, this time crowding your space as he settles all one hundred and fifty pounds of himself beside you. He anchors you in reality, preventing your boneless body from floating off by pulling you against his chest.

“You did so good.”

You accept his kisses readily, somehow managing to thread your arm around his neck despite the fact that you feel like you’ve just run a marathon.

Being wrapped up in his embrace is like being home - warm and familiar.

“I want you.”

He laughs and you can hear the sound rattling around in his chest. “You’ve got me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You sound a little petulant, like a child being denied their favourite toy.

“I know what you meant,” he retorts, squeezing your bare hip affectionately. “But you’re also exhausted, so get some sleep. Patience is key, remember?”

You pout up at him with your messy bedhead and sleepy eyes and he almost gives in right then and there. It’s nearly impossible not to, especially when you drag your hip across his, your ankle hooking his in a bid to bring the two of you somehow closer.

He doesn’t expect you to relent so easily but your yawn outs you, forcing itself past the cage you’re trying - and failing - to keep closed. “Fine.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You better be.” It’s an empty threat - you both know he won’t leave. “I still have to give you your present, anyway.”

He feigns surprise then, snickering quietly. “You mean it wasn’t you?”

You don’t have the energy to yell at him, so instead you dig your bony fingers into the vulnerable underside of his ribs. He squirms away from the feeling but never really goes far.

“It’s a Mercy bobblehead, you butt.” You yawn again, shiver running the length of your spine as you snuggle more closely against his side once more. Jungkook tugs your duvet up around your shoulders, tucking you in tightly. The action reminds you of why you’d bought the gift in the first place. “I think you might actually be my guardian angel.”

notes. the end of an era (and by era, i mean a fic). this honestly turned out to be my baby, so i sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it. i'll likely do some drabbles in the future, because i really, really adore this couple. as always, let me know your thoughts. xo

tag list. @letmebeyour-sun @teawithbucky

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gebtoons · 3 years

Text

my contribution to the bapo timeline discourse bc i’m just gonna propose a timeline and will not be taking criticism <3 (under the cut bc this is gonna be a long post probably)

ok disclaimer I am quite stupid, however I’m gonna use my knowledge from my own 12 years in american public high school and what little info I have about american boarding schools/catholic schools that I have from my friends lol. so. idk.

i’m also gonna date songs/major events and i’m gonna be taking some “just trust me bro” liberties bc y’all are right it does NOT make that much sense.

January 6: Epiphany; this is like an actual holiday lol. like its always on the sixth. idk its good that this is the starting point bc its an actual date yknow? For the purposes of this timeline were going with that its early in the week, so lets go with Monday idk

January 6-13: You and I, Role of a Lifetime; so we’re all kinda in agreement that this timeline (at least the beginning) only really makes sense if you and i/role of a lifetime aren’t like. a singular moment and are instead multiple days. so yeah, of this first week, this is like. monday-next sunday ish yknow.

January 14: Auditions, Plain Jane Fatass; ok so having auditions for a spring musical right after kids get back from break actually makes perfect sense to me, like i can see it being like “ok take break to prepare so as soon as you come back we can have auditions so we can jump right into rehersals” yknow? and since the rave is clearly on a friday (”we’ll meet in tanya’s room on friday night”) so i’m going with the monday before.

as for pjf, i know it doesn’t make a ton of sense for them to get a two week late birthday package their first few weeks back from school, but hear me out it makes sense. the implication throughout this entire show is that the twins have decently shitty parents. from bits of dialogue (in this song in particular lol) i’m kinda inferring their the “only concerned with how their kids make them look to others” kind of neglectful. so I don’t think it’s too outside the realm of possibility that they went away for the holidays, didn’t bring the twins, and instead mailed them a birthday package and having it show up two weeks late. realistically the timing of this isnt that important and the explicit “two week” time frame could’ve been an exaggeration on nadia’s part to mock her shit parents (idk its in her character) basically ppl are a little two fixated on this imo but anyway. moving on.

January 18: Wonderland, A Quiet Night At Home, Rolling, Best Kept Secret; a very agreed upon point in the timeline. its the friday following the auditions. moving on.

January 21: Confession; also very agreed upon. the monday following the rave. moving on again

January 23: Portrait of a Girl; the date here is kinda arbitrary, but bc sister chantelle says “ok lets try to put yesterday’s rehearsal behind us” and i for the life of me cannot think of a scene she could be referring to (there’s none in the script either) that implies it wasn’t the same monday as confession (bc even in a boarding school i think holding extracurriculars that aren’t sports over the weekend (especially when they are no where near crunch time lol) is weird and not common) so i just picked a random day during the week

January 25: Birthday Bitch!, One Kiss, Are You There?; from matt’s line in wonderland, ivy’s birthday is a week after the rave. in my timeline that’s january 25th (an aquarius queen).

btw given all grown up’s “17, how will i manage?” ivy is 16 during 17 at her party, which is strange given shes a high school senior and seniors are typically 17 during 18. so either a) she skipped a grade, not an unheard of thing. or b) shes not a senior, shes just a junior who hangs out with a bunch of seniors, which is also pretty common. and looking through the script i can’t find any mention that she is also a senior, other than yknow she graduates with them, but she isn’t mentioned during the class ranking scene? so idk not that it really matters just a fun detail

February 3 (at night): 911 Emergency!; ok controversial. i know i like the joke about how its funny that peter having a weird dream when he was high prompted him to want to come out and really ruined his relationship with jason. BUT. i think the dream (despite it’s weirdness) would have a lot more meaning if it wasn’t the result of being really high, but if it was a dream he had like a week later as a result of a building sense of guilt/anxiety bc he told matt. also it fits better given later timeline things. (this timeline literally only exists if there are weird jumps in time that don’t make a ton of sense) (EDIT: I forgot one line about Jason crashing at ivys but fuck it forget that bitchass line this makes for more drama its staying this way)

February 4: Reputation Stain’d, Ever After; the next day following peter’s dream, idk what else to say, moving on.

February 25-28: Spring; another jump! i’m sorry but the only way for this to make sense logistically is for there to be quite a few time jumps! however, i also think this one works bc i think it gives time for everything from around ivy’s party and peter and jason’s break up to stew emotionally. like obviously a musical only has so much time to tell a story so the audience cannot see every realistic beat, but honestly i think it makes the whole thing a little more dramatic™ if there’s space for everything to settle, and for ivy to come and apologize and such. also, the reason it’s multiple days is bc in the script, ivy is trying to study (presumably for some sort of midterm) while nadia is playing, so that probably takes place a few days before they move out, so before finals. but in the script, jason and peter are packing and peter is leaving, so that part of the song/staging takes place on the 28th. yes, that’s weird, but we are clearly thinking more about the logistics of this school than the writers were so.

March 1: One; assuming st. cecilia’s works kinda like boarding schools here, they probably do staggered move out/move in, just bc that would be a lot to have people coming and going at once so it makes sense that peter left the day before, while jason and ivy are leaving the next day. also, given that peter is trying to call jason while he and ivy are banging, it’s probably been a hot minute since the actual break up, since peter was clearly very hurt by the whole thing, it would make sense (at least to me) that peter would reach out a month ish later, rather than like a few days later (you have to make so many assumptions to make this timeline work granted they aren’t super out there assumptions but still this is annoying)

March 1-25: Spring Break. the coworkers I have who are in boarding school work over their school breaks, which are longer than the public school breaks (which are only a week) so i put their spring break at 3 weeks. it makes sense, and it makes the later part of the timeline make sense.

I know i’m already halfway through this, but to me it makes sense for their to be quite a few time jumps in the story bc its a musical. they cannot show every day. there are a lot of other shows (particularly shows set in high schools) that are set over a whole school year, but if you just look at the events of the story that doesn’t make sense, so you have to imply that obviously they are not showing every little detail. moving on.

March 25: Wedding Bells, In The Hallway, Touch My Soul; peter wakes up from his nightmare in the church, so im assuming he fell asleep in church (like he almost did during epiphany). also it makes sense that class ranks are announced in late march-early april, I know my school announced ours in like, the first week or so of april? so yeah. moving on.

(from this point on i was giving myself a headache trying to make it make sense so its all weird from here!!)

April 4: See Me, Warning; the date doesn’t really matter here, I picked a random day in early april. the script said peter is calling from him and jason’s old dorm room, as he was picking up the last of his things, so he clearly made the roommate switch after school started (makes sense to me).

April 15-20 (approximately): Ivy finds out she’s pregnant. look google tells me on average people find out they are pregnant around 5-7 weeks after conception. i went with around 7 just so this timeline makes a tiny bit more sense given the later stuff, so yeah here we go.

May 4: Pilgrim’s Hands, God Don’t Make No Trash, All Grown Up, Promise, Once Upon A Time, Cross; a rough night for our heroes. so given sister chantelle saying “again? wonderful.” and nadia saying “i can’t believe you missed rehearsal again”, clearly ivy has been missing quite a few rehearsals, so for dramas sake maybe from when she found out she was pregnant? also i know i’ve been saying they wouldn’t have rehearsals on weekends, and given my weird timeline this would be a saturday, but its tech week so i’ll allow it.

May 5: Two Households, Bare, Queen Mab, A Glooming Peace; pretty self explanatory, and it makes sense to have the spring play in early may. rip jason.

May 11: Absolution; the day before graduation peter goes to confront the priest. gives him a small amount of time to start processing, and it makes sense it would be the night before, at least to me.

May 12: No Voice; i fucking hate this. “peter, we graduate next sunday” i hate that stupid fucking line. do you know that this timeline literally would be fine if it weren’t for that stupid fucking line? bc then, the school play would be in early may and graduation could be in late may-early june (when most high schools hold graduation) but no. keeping with continuity, they have to graduate the sunday following the school play. “peter we graduate in a month, are you really never gonna talk to me again?” would have been fine. but no, now we have beef. literally everything else about the end of this timeline being kinda weird would work itself out, except for the fucking graduation. god damn. anyway, may 12th, the graduate on may 12th which is really fucking weird bc of that one fucking line. whatever. i didn’t write the damn thing bc if i did i wouldn’t have written that fucking line. (i’ve been at this for over an hour and a half, so i’m a tad annoyed, can you tell?)

anyway, that’s it. that’s my long as hell proposed bare timeline. if there’s anything glaringly wrong with it i don’t care bc this timeline literally cannot make sense. but honestly, now that i think about the Popular Tween High Schooler Musicals (heathers, bmc, deh) the timelines of those (especially heathers and bmc) don’t make tons of sense either. that’s just the way it is, that’s the way its gonna be. and we have to live with it.

this post is so long it is actually slowing down my laptop as i type it

#bare a pop opera #bapo #me speaks #i stg there is no real way to make this timeline make sense #a whole lotta this is #it makes sense bro trust me bro #also apologies if this is hard to read i am not very good at phrasing things over text #or at all

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Petrified (pt.3)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: is this what they call a slow burn?? i promise the intense yandere stuff goes down soon...-ish. i’d like to have a new part out every week or so, give or take a few days. we’ll see how it goes, but for now enjoy the new chapter!!!

ALSO WE REACHED 200 FOLLOWERS LAST NIGHT THANKS Y’ALL, YOU’RE AMAZING

(5.8k words)

Warnings: reader experiences mild anxiety

If there was ever a time in your life when you felt like you could finally take some well needed rest, it was now.

It wasn’t like you had a choice though, your nurse making it very clear that you weren’t cleared for discharge yet. Therefore another long bout of unconsciousness was the only option you had whilst in the dreary hospital room, and waking from it felt much more pleasant than you anticipated.

Your sleep schedule appeared to be unaffected by the recent events, something you were grateful for. It had you up on this fine Sunday morning at precisely 8:12 am, according to the time on your phone. Unfortunately, you neglected to bring a charger with you to work on Friday. So when your abandoned belongings were retrieved from that dreaded alleyway, you were still left with relatively nothing to keep you occupied. The phone was running on a steadily declining 14% battery life, leaving its use to be minimized to an expensive clock.

With nothing to pass the time in that regard, you simply observed the world coming to life outside your window. It left you the chance to go over the past 48 hours in peace, and you specifically regarded the strange development from last night.

It wasn’t something you hadn’t already been over multiple times in your head, but you still couldn’t manage to wrap your mind around the motivation that was fuelling Shouta and Hizashi to propose such a request. Concern over your health did explain some of it, but the extent of the actions caused by this concern was not at all equal to the reasoning.

Regardless, you’d already accepted to fulfill their strange request, so there wasn’t much that overthinking the situation would do to benefit you at this point.

_____

Breakfast came at around 8:30 am, effectively pulling you out of your wandering thoughts. It was simple enough: eggs, sausage, toast, a side of bland oatmeal and a tall glass of water.

The nurse left you to your own devices after that, telling you that for now it was a matter of continuing the same treatment before any more judgments could be made.

This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t growing increasingly bored by the minute due to the lack of distractions. So when the sound of a certain voice hero’s conversation could be heard on the other side of your door not long after breakfast, it served as a great relief to the mind numbing atmosphere.

Not a moment later and you heard the familiar rapping on the wooden frame, before the blond pushed it open and entered.

“How’s my sunshine doin’ this morning? Ya feelin’ any better?” Hizashi was dressed in casual clothing with his hair down. In addition, he appeared to be holding some sort of shopping bag in his right hand.

You watched as he made his way towards the right side of your bed, responding to his worries. “Well, the rest definitely hasn’t gone unnoticed. My head still hurts but they’re giving me some pretty powerful meds for that thankfully.”

You figured he would sit down in the armchair, but instead he opted for settling on the edge of your bed again. “Ya sure you got enough shut eye? I can come back if ya need to snooze a lil’ longer.”

His open compassion for your health was comforting, albeit a little insistent, but it made for a relaxing atmosphere for now.

“I don’t think I could sleep anymore no matter how hard I tried, thanks for the concern though.” You gave a warm smile, sensing that he was almost stressed over your wellbeing, unnecessarily much in your opinion.

The blond brought the bag up to rest on your lap, and vaguely you could make out the contents for a brief second.

“Well, Shou’ and I figured you didn’t have all that much to live off of since being admitted, so I went and grabbed ya some essentials on the way here.” He gestured to the bag, to which you hesitantly reached for.

He continued, “I wasn’t quite sure what my favorite listener needed, so I just bought a lil’ bit of everything.”

You peered into the opening, seeing quite the assortment of toiletries. Picking up the packet of cleansing facial wipes, something you desperately needed, you continued to peruse through the items. Smaller things like high quality travel sized tissue packets and floral scented lotions were settled aimlessly at the bottom.

One thing that did catch your eye was a small stuffed black cat, wearing a white frilly dress. You took the plushie out of the bag for further inspection, also singling it out for just being cute.

“Shou’ picked that out. Sent him some photos from the gift shop downstairs since he’s not a mornin’ person. Thought it’d keep you company until ya get outta here.” You looked up at Hizashi, seeing him smiling warmly at the thought of something so wholesome, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“It’s adorable, thanks…” For a moment you sat in the feeling of being cared for so well, something that you didn’t have much time to receive given your lifestyle. However, that sentiment was quickly overshadowed by the circumstances you were in, particularly with this man.

Once again, your body became riddled with grief over the fact that they’d spent not only their time, but now their money on you. Not that you didn’t understand that Hizashi was genuinely concerned for you―nobody could miss that. It’s just there was no reason for it as far as you were concerned.

The two had done more than enough as it is, and the overkill only made you feel worse. “...I just―I can’t help but feel bad that you spent so much on me. I’ll pay you back completely, it’s the least I could do for how much you and Shouta have invested in me so far.”

That’s what you said, and you meant it completely. But you knew that the voice hero wouldn’t stand for it, so you could only hold onto a string of hope that he’d at least let you compensate for half of the valuables.

He almost let out an amused laugh at your worry for the state of his finances. “Look, I know ya mean well, baby. But this stuff costed no more than pocket change. After all, can’t have you bein’ neglected in this place after going through all that trouble to get ya here.”

“Can I at least pay back half, just for some peace of mind.” He was more stubborn than you initially thought, just another trait of his you were growing used to.

“Not gonna happen, sunshine! But there is one thing ya can do…”

The blond pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket, unlocking it swiftly. He handed it to you, the screen appearing to show a page for new contact information. “Go on and type in those digits of yours. We’re gonna need a way to contact you if some new info pops up about the case from Friday night.”

You glanced at his awaiting expression before silently agreeing, typing in your phone number.

“Also, we gotta work out when that dinner night is happening. Can’t have you runnin’ off on us before then.”

He was right, the only way they were letting you make up for their generosity was oddly by letting them provide you more of the manner. It was your only option, so you settled with the new belongings and finished typing in your contact information.

As if to make sure you didn’t give him the wrong number, Hizashi sent you a quick text of a sun emoticon. You took the opportunity to save his information to your phone.

Just as you did, the screen turned black and wouldn’t come back to life no matter how many times you pressed the power button.

“Outta juice?”

Your eyes darted to Hizashi, who moved to rummage through the bag. He pulled out an object you somehow managed to completely miss: a phone charger.

He began unwrapping the cord from its casing, getting off the bed to find an outlet.

“The police ended up havin’ to go through your bag to file everything as evidence. Shou’ was there when it happened, told me to grab a charger cause you were missing one before I left this morning.”

Just another expensive item you wouldn’t be able to compensate for. It’s like he wants you to feel bad for being so helpless.

“Thanks…I’d be pretty screwed without you I guess.” You didn’t want to keep going on about the regrettable feeling that was all too persisting, seeming as it didn’t matter much anymore.

He handed you the end of the now plugged in charger, letting you hook your phone up to it. “No worries, actually I―”

The same nurse as last night had interrupted his train of thought, making her presence known before entering.

“Good morning Yamada sir, checking up on my patient I see?” She didn’t let him respond, “Well, I hate to break it to you but I’m going to have to steal her for a while.”

He regarded the nurse with a smile. “‘Course, I’ll talk to you later, songbird.”

The blond gestured some finger guns in your direction as he spoke, walking out of your room.

Regardless of the circumstances, you thought, at least I have someone coming to see me. That’s what I get for throwing myself into work and not making friends I guess.

You let the nurse close the door all the way, silently awaiting the slew of information about to be sent your way.

_____

It would seem at this point the only stimulation outside of examinations was in the form of boring phone games, and your newly acquired, and insistent, hero companions.

One of which was currently posted in the armchair, waiting for you to finish eating dinner before you told him about the exciting day you had. Shouta, reserved as ever, kept on his phone until then.

You finished up as soon as possible, the silence eating away at your psyche due to its growing awkwardness.

“How was your day?” Simple, the only thing you could think of asking, great for breaking the silence.

The erasure hero looked up from the screen immediately. “Good, actually. Still haven’t heard anything from the station.”

Remembering that fateful night wasn’t something you particularly wanted to do, but for now it had to be dealt with. “I doubt much will come of it, not exactly like what was going down wasn’t obvious, so no need for an investigation, right?.”

“Probably...any changes with yourself?”

You knew well enough that like his partner, Shouta seemed genuinely interested in your health. The difference was that his way of conveying this was much more...intimidating.

The look he gave you demanded a response, even if the question was harmless enough.

“Ah―not really I guess. I’m here until tomorrow morning for sure, but that’s about all they’ve said.” You wouldn’t know if he was pleased with the response if you didn’t catch the slight nod he gave.

“Well, it’s not a bad thing. You could certainly use the rest.”

Now that’s something you could agree to, but you’d still rather do so in the comfort of your own bedroom.

“Listen, as much as I want to keep you company, my students are expecting graded essays back tomorrow morning. I’m afraid I can’t stay any longer.”

While you did appreciate his presence as a change of routine for a short while, it was only to an extent. You’d be lying if you said the atmosphere didn’t feel heavy while he was around, even if just a little in times like these.

“That’s no problem, I’d hate to keep you from your work.”

He slowly stood up from the armchair, “Hizashi will probably visit tomorrow morning. He’s got the day off so he’ll likely stick around as much as possible. Just tell him to leave if he’s annoying you.”

You watched as his eyes drifted to the stuffed cat resting on the bedside table next to the bouquet, the sight influencing a tired smile.

“You should try and get to sleep early―oh, one more thing.”

Like his partner had done earlier today, he reached for his phone, handing the unlocked device to you. Having done so already, something he was also aware of, you silently typed in your information.

“Don’t be afraid to send one of us a message if you need anything.”

You returned the phone to him, “Right, thanks for stopping by Shouta.”

As he exited the room, you were left with feelings of confliction over the whole ordeal. It was strange―having someone being concerned about your wellbeing was nice, but something, you couldn’t quite place what, was getting in the way of your gratitude.

The two men were clearly busy people. Hero work, on top of being teachers, would more than suffice as something to occupy most of their time. When it comes to dealing with victims, you’d assume that for the sake of efficiency a hero would just drop you off at the nearest hospital and then be on their way.

And yet, for reasons still incomprehensible, the presence of the strange duo was something you couldn’t shake off. Perhaps it wasn’t intentional, but the reality left a peculiar underlying feeling of...suspicion?

It was too soon to say, and frankly it’d be rude to judge them after they’d been so kind to you. However you’d always been someone who falls on the more overstrung side, and neglecting the situation by simply ignoring it was not something you could do.

_____

It was just as his partner had foretold―the next morning you had once again been graced with the presence of Hizashi.

You noted how he was awfully chipper for being up at 8:20 am on a Monday, but like the couple other odd traits of his, you chose to disregard it.

Especially since this person also came bearing quite the appetizing breakfast.

“The nurse said ya didn’t have to eat the hospital food if someone brought you a meal instead. Thought you’d appreciate somethin’ homemade so I whipped it up before leaving.” This time he was seated in the armchair, likely because there wasn’t enough room on the bed with the table that was positioned over it so you could eat.

The meal consisted of―somehow still warm―scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, fruit, and a side of blueberry pancakes. All in all, it was delicious, and you didn’t quite think it was something he could just ‘whip up,’ but you’d let that slide. You thanked him profusely for it before regarding just how little you’d been informed of things since coming to the hospital.

“I didn’t even know that was allowed to be honest. They don’t tell me much aside from whether or not my condition has changed.” You tried to talk in between bites, not wanting to let the warmth dissipate by waiting to have a full conversation.

“Funny you say that cause she also told me you’d be cleared to leave by the end of the day. Looks like the hit you took wasn’t too serious.”

Well, you would’ve appreciated being the first to receive this news. Isn’t there like a doctor-patient confidentiality thing to keep others from knowing stuff like that?

Regardless, it was still good news. The hospital room was starting to drive you a bit crazy.

“That’s good to hear, thanks for letting me know.” You quietly continued your meal while Hizashi went on about similar things―cases that were like yours, his opinions of the hospital staff.

If there was anything he was good at it was filling the silence, and you supposed this was where his relationship with Shouta came in handy. Not that his partner didn’t seem to mind talking, it was just he wasn’t the most energetic when he did so, whether he knew that or not.

In general, the two of you quickly realized that there wasn’t much to discuss, given how you’d been holed up in the tiny room for the last few days―it didn’t really allow for the most exciting news.

He asked you about a few work details of your own occupation―how long you’d worked there, if you liked your coworkers―menial stuff mostly. By then you had long finished breakfast, and it would seem that the blond had no intention of leaving, much like his partner warned you of.

So, you listened patiently while he went on about this and that. Sometimes trailing off into hero stories, other times bringing up his work as a teacher.

In general, you had no problem listening to him go on. You’d speak up here and there, but not for long as he’d quickly resume with whatever topic he’d fixated on for the moment.

One would think it’d be annoying, and perhaps this was just a result of some form of exposure therapy that made it bearable, but it was enjoyable hearing him ramble.

Yet, good things only last for so long.

It’s not that you eventually found the endless discussion boring, rather the developing behaviour was due to you still recovering―even just in the slightest―from recent events. You didn’t even notice it, but gradually your eyes were becoming heavy, and the sound of Hizashi’s voice was becoming more and more distant.

Embarrassingly, he was the first to pick up on it.

He was mid sentence when he caught you nodding off. Rather than being offended, the blond actually found it endearing.

Instead of alerting you just yet that he’d taken notice of your behaviour, Hizashi silently stood up out of the chair, walking over to the windows of your room.

Your half-lidded eyes just barely picked up on the movement, vaguely seeing him pull the blinds closed before coming back to your senses.

“Oh god, I didn’t mean to―you weren’t boring me I promise. I just-”

“Relax, songbird. It’s my fault, ya must still be a lil’ done in, no worries.”

Naturally, you felt terrible. He was acting like he didn’t care, anyone would be offended at this point.

It was excruciatingly awkward, and you desperately tried to collect your thoughts. “No, no it really was interesting, you can keep going if―”

“Stop it, sunshine.” He started towards your bed, which you instinctively shrunk into. You always defaulted this way, panicking immediately in the face of little to no danger. But Hizashi wasn’t dangerous, you told yourself. He continued, “I should’ve known you weren’t better yet. Still not sure how but you really managed to wear yourself out, didn’t ya?”

He pushed you back down into bed by your shoulders while he spoke, continuing to pull up the blankets you discarded earlier.

“I’m gonna head out so you can get some more shut eye, yeah?”

“Um...o-okay. Yeah, I guess…” You inwardly cringed at how small your voice sounded, but to be fair it wasn’t like you could exactly help it.

It was confusing, how he acted so indifferent to the unspoken insult that you gave him by nearly falling asleep. Was he acting?

Hizashi moved away, heading towards the door, leaving you somewhat comfortably tucked into the hospital bed.

“Get some rest, ‘kay sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, thanks.”

You heard the door click shut as he left, the room falling into silence amidst the now dim lighting.

Okay...what the fuck.

Devoid of any distractions in your proximity, the hard thumping in your chest was more than clear. At times like these you didn’t even realize any growing anxiety―not until the ordeal was over and you were left with the aftereffects.

The attention to it was only drawn more when you processed the increased rate of beeping coming from your heart monitor.

The last thing you wanted to do was bother the poor nurse taking care of you. Steeling yourself, you took deep breaths, focusing your attention on calming down. It worked soon enough, leaving no need for medical intervention.

You noted that getting like this always drained you of energy―mentally and physically. Heeding Hizashi’s orders, it was easiest now to try and sleep off the anxiety.

You can think about whatever just happened later, maybe when your not still hospitalized.

_____

You were stirred awake by a gentle hand on your shoulder, lightly shaking your resting form. Eyes fluttering open, you observed the dedicated nurse you’ve seen time and time again leaning slightly over you.

“Miss (l/n), I have an update on your condition.”

That was more than enough to give you motivation to pull yourself from the jaws of sleep. You sat up slowly, although it was your best attempt at doing so quickly.

The nurse continued, “Well, it’s good news. You’ve been cleared for discharge. Your condition has improved considerably, so you can continue the rest of your recovery at home safely.”

You needed to hear no more, immediately looking around to find your bag that had been delivered to you from Friday night. Still, you figured that this deserved a response.

“That’s really great to hear, thank you for taking care of me...also, where are the clothes that I came here in?”

“Oh yes, they’re in your bag.” You watched as she reached underneath your bed―no wonder you couldn’t find the damn thing.

The nurse settled the bag next to you before continuing. “Here you go, miss. I’ve prescribed some pain medication for your head injury. Directions for consumption are on the label...and I believe that’s it.”

You rifled through the bag, retrieving your clothing from the bottom.

“Oh, one last thing actually. Now, this is only a recommendation, but given your health it would be beneficial if you were to remain home for the rest of the week. You can go to work if you’d wish, but it may slow your remaining recovery process.”

“I’ll have to think about that one, but thank you for letting me know.”

She turned off the heart monitor before removing the clip on your finger. The IV had been removed yesterday, so there was no need for attention in that department.

“Perfect, you can get dressed and gather your belongings. Please speak to the receptionist at the end of the hall―right before the elevator―so you can pick up the prescription before you leave.”

“Sounds good.” You offered a warm smile to her, and she politely excused herself from the room.

You got changed, clothing appearing to have been washed at some point while you were asleep. Somehow you managed to pile all the things Hizashi brought you the morning before into your backpack, and you threw the shopping bag into the garbage.

It was nice to finally stretch your legs for longer than a few minutes to use the washroom, although your muscles did feel somewhat weaker now.

Slipping on your jacket and bag, you exited the room, closing the door behind you. The receptionist’s desk had been exactly where the nurse said it would be, and you handed over your information to the man behind the counter. He left for a moment before returning with a paper, your prescription printed on it with an illegible doctor’s signature. You thanked the man before heading to the elevator and stepping in.

Nothing was more enticing at this point than returning to the comfort of your own home. The thought of your bed waiting for you was enough to have you drooling, being so done with the unfamiliar setting of the hospital.

The elevator chimed, signalling it had reached its destination of the ground floor. The doors slid open and you stepped out, heading straight for the front entrance.

At least you were, until you collided into some poor unsuspecting human standing in your path.

How many times are you going to embarrass yourself before the day is up?

The person had caught you by the shoulders, stabling the both of you. You were quietly trying to apologize while, painfully so, you lifted your head to assess the damage.

You weren’t sure to be thankful or not, but you were met with a familiar gaze.

“You really shouldn't keep your head down like that all the time. Are you okay?”

Shouta looked down at you with a stern yet concerned look. He didn’t exactly back away, rather he continued his hold on your shoulders as if you were going to fall over any second. Hizashi also stood close by his side, and therefore close to you.

The sudden proximity had your head spinning, blood quickly rushing to your face.

“Ah―yeah. I’m fine.” Your response was pitifully sputtered out, and gently you moved back, out of his grasp.

“You headin’ out? Shou’ and I were just comin’ to check up on ya.”

The blond regarded his partner, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll drive you home, have you eaten yet?” The erasure hero didn’t seem to be asking permission over the matter, but you still forced yourself to give them your take on it.

“You don’t have to do that, I was just about to call a cab. And I have stuff at home for dinner, so I honestly can’t impose on you two anymore.”

“Aw, but we're already here sunshine. It’s no problem, c’mon.” The blond flashed a warm smile before moving to place a hand just beneath the nape of your neck, guiding you to the front entrance alongside his partner.

You were beginning to grow frustrated with the way the two acted, disregarding your wishes so casually. Sure, they weren’t doing anything inherently wrong―just helping a poor civilian get home―but that wasn’t what irked you.

They were too insistent, and it was making you uncomfortable. Clearly they either didn’t notice, or simply didn’t care.

Heroes or not, you couldn’t just let them do whatever they want.

But...would they be offended if you got mad? They’re just trying to help, so what’s the big deal? It’s not like you would have to deal with it much longer, surely you could put up with a bit more of their pushiness.

...Just endure it a little more, you’ve already done enough damage anyways.

It was growing dark out, the sun having just set over the horizon. The crisp air hit you hard as the automatic doors slid open, being equally refreshing and shocking to your system.

An involuntary shiver wracked your body, and you felt Hizashi’s hand slip to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to him.

It made your stomach churn ever so slightly, but you pushed the feeling down.

Shouta walked in front of you two, presumably leading you to their car in the parking lot. Approaching it, you weren’t surprised to see the expensive looking exterior, and were even less surprised to find an equally luxurious interior as the erasure hero opened the backseat door for you.

You offered a quiet ‘thanks’, removing your backpack and slipping in. The door shut with a heavy thud, and you waited for the two men to enter the vehicle while putting on your seatbelt. It smelled of pine inside, likely due to an air freshener somewhere that you couldn’t see.

They stepped inside, immediately turning on the heat. Shouta was given the responsibility of driving tonight.

“We can grab you something to eat on the way home, I know a couple good joints around your area.” Hizashi seemed quite invested on the topic of good food, but you had to turn him down at least once today.

“Oh, no thank you. I’ve actually got a frozen dinner that I made last week that I was gonna heat up.” You felt the car start to move, grateful to be getting home faster than you would’ve by cab.

For the first time in a while, the blond actually acknowledged and accepted your opinion. “Alright then. Hey, did the nurse lady have anything new to say ‘bout the whole passing out thing?”

“Surprisingly not, guess it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

Yeah, because they didn’t know why you were so tired, or how getting the crap scared out of you was the final driving force that night.

“That’s good to hear. I take it you’ll be staying home for the rest of the week to rest?”

Once again, you noted the tone in Shouta’s voice that was a little off-putting. He was asking a question, one that you had the freedom to answer however you see fit. But the lowness, sounding like a warning rather than a simple inquiry about your future actions was all too present.

It made you nervous.

“Well...I’m definitely going to take Tuesday and Wednesday off. But I’m already feeling good so I won’t bother to cancel for the rest of the week after that.”

You could only anticipate the disagreement in silence. And disagree they did.

“I’m not too sure that’s a good idea, sunshine. You went through a lot, its best ya hold off for a while.” You could hear the passionate concern in Hizashi’s voice, but it did little to deter you.

You briefly glanced outside, thankful that your apartment wasn’t too far from the hospital. “Maybe, but the end of the week is always really busy, and I usually handle evening shifts anyways. It wouldn't really be fair on my coworkers to bail for that long.”

Without skipping a beat, Shouta replied. “It’s not fair on yourself to put unnecessary strain on your body.”

Well, he’s not wrong, but that’s not the point.

“I can handle it just fine, besides it’s still a few da―”

“‘Zashi told me you fell asleep while he was there today. That doesn’t sound like handling it to me.”

Confrontation had never been your strong suit, even less so when it was directed at you. His words made you want to disappear into thin air, or have the backseat swallow you whole―anything would do at this point. You felt the shame from earlier today resurfacing, despite the internal fight you put up to contain it.

You were a little over halfway home.

“I was just a bit tired. Nothing a nap c-couldn’t solve.”

This time the blonde spoke up. “We’re just thinking ‘bout what’s best for you right now. And with the way things have been...maybe working so soon ain’t the greatest idea.”

The atmosphere was weighing down on you, thick with tension likely only you could feel. “The nurse said that it was okay to work if I wanted, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Is that all she said?” Your eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror, Shouta’s hard gaze meeting yours for a moment before you shied away.

God, this man is relentless.

You could lie, it might make this easier. But something told you that they would know if you did. They were pro heroes after all―didn’t they train to detect stuff like that?

“She said working might slow the recovery process, but I think two more days is more than enough time to get better.”

The two men exchanged looks mixed with annoyance and doubt, which you would’ve seen if you hadn’t had your head down, incessantly picking at your nails to distract from the bubbling anxiety you felt.

“Songbird, if the nurse said to stay home then you should listen to her. Going back to work ain’t gonna do ya any good.”

What could you say to prevent this from getting worse?

“She recommended staying home, I don’t have to listen to her.”

“Even though you should?” There was that tone again.

There was a silence in the car that felt like it lasted for an eternity. Clearly both of them were thinking the same thing, Shouta was just more insistent over it, much more insistent.

“What I should do is take responsibility as an employee. I’ll be okay by the time I have to go back.” Somehow you managed a response, despite feeling yourself physically shrinking back into the seat with every passing second.

Judging the surroundings, you were about one minute away from your apartment. One minute away from freedom.

You heard the blond sigh, “We know you wanna work, just promise you’ll think about staying home this week, give us some peace of mind?”

If that’s what will get them to stop hounding you over the matter, then whatever.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

The car pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex. You would’ve jumped out at full speed and ran into the building to escape the tension at this point. But that would be rude, and you didn’t want to look like a lunatic. And even if you didn’t care about that, the car doors were locked.

“We better not have to bring your unconscious body to the hospital again, especially if it happens because you thought going back to work was a good idea. If you think we’re worried about you now...well, this would be nothing compared to what would happen if you pass out again. Understand?” Shouta glared at you in the rearview mirror as he spoke, creating more than a lasting impression of his warnings.

You swallowed dryly, “Of course, thanks for the ride.”

Another moment of silence, then the click of the car doors unlocking sounded.

You opened the door, grabbing your bag while stepping out, trying not to trip over yourself in the rushed panic you were in.

Rounding the vehicle, you started towards the entrance to the complex.

“We’ll catch ya later, sweetheart!” Hizashi’s voice boomed after you, having the car window rolled down.

Out of courtesy, you turned back around, giving a small wave and a smile before stepping through the doors.

In a haze, you shuffled back to your apartment, pulling the keys out of your jacket pocket. You locked the door as soon as you stepped inside, chucking your bag on the floor in the entryway.

You didn’t even bother to heat up dinner, knowing the nauseating feeling in your stomach wouldn’t allow for sustenance at this time. Instead you showered, taking the time to massage your scalp in an attempt to relax.

Sliding into your pyjamas, you found that eating still wasn’t an option, but drinking likely was.

Not alcohol, but herbal tea―it always seemed to do the trick.

The exhaustion set in quickly after you’d gotten only halfway through the cup, so you retreated to the comfort of your bed. You knew the feeling was a mixture of coming down from a stress induced high, the tea, and your still recovering system.

It served as plenty of foundation to knock you out the second your head hit the pillow. This time, you welcomed the inevitable unconsciousness with open arms.

End of Part 3

_____

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annakie · 3 years

Text

Patchy

A little under two years ago I made this post, a chronicle of Patchy, the outside feral, turned inside kitty who took ten years to learn to love being petted.

Today we got some bad news.

TW for pet illness under the cut.

Patchy’s always been a bit of a puker, usually oh, say, once a month or so she’d have a good puke for no reason. I’ve had other cats that are pukers so it’s not that surprising.

In the late winter/early spring I started to notice more frequent pukes.

I’d decided around that time that I needed to find healthier food for my cats, with Leela, the oldest turning 16, Fry turning 11, Pemily turning 7 and Patchy turning, I don’t know, 12 or 13. No way to really know. They already got decent food, but I did my research and had started looking at Blue Buffalo, American Journey and Dave’s canned food.

Patchy had been on a mostly canned food diet since she went to the vet back in early 2020 and had a bunch of teeth pulled. Also, as a note, Patchy’s brief flirtation with hanging out in the rest of the house ended after like a month. She and Fry fought too much, and eventually he claimed the rest of the house is his. He also still thinks the master bedroom should be his, but, Patchy defends that territory well if anyone else encroaches. (The door just stays closed most of the time.) I really wish they could have all gotten along, I loved having Patchy out, but both Fry and Patchy agreed it wasn’t going to work.

The food she’d been on was pretty junk-food-ish though, which she did love and eat. But I wanted everyone on more or less the same diet and the highest quality food I could readily get them. So I bought a lot of cans of different kinds of food, and kept a list of which ones seemed to be hits and misses. (I still have a dozen cans of the kind nobody liked -- Blue Buffalo Wilderness Salmon -- I’ve been meaning to take to the city shelter).

Around halfway into this experiment I noticed Patchy puking more, so I decided to try to stick with her favorite kinds, which, I thought was helping.

But once I was fully vaccinated this year, it was time to get all the pets to the vet. I noticed Patchy had still lost some weight, I thought it was due to switching around her food too much earlier, and tried to stick with the things I felt she really liked.

Then, of course, Leela got sick, spent two and a half days in the pet ER and almost died back in April, and then it was like... yeah we’re done being afraid of COVID, we’re done waiting. It’s time to get them all their checkups.

My regular vet was doing COVID restrictions so no pet owners inside the clinic back then, so they took Patchy (and the others) in without me. I thought Patchy had lost some weight, but Dr. B. sounded alarmed when he called me with how much lost she’d lost in the last year, about five pounds. He wanted to do some bloodwork for Patchy, and I said of course go for it.

He called back, sounding much calmer and was like “her bloodwork couldn’t be more perfect. Let’s try switching up her food, get her on some sensitive stomach food and let’s see how she’s doing in a couple weeks.”

So two weeks later it did seem like she was doing better, I called Dr. B back and he said to bring her back in a month.

It was my plan to take her back next week when I had some PTO coming. I admit, later than planned... my last couple of months have been mucn more focused on Leela... who, thankfully, continues to thrive. But feeling like my time with her is running out, she’s been my main area of concern.

The last few days though, Patchy has really not been eating well. Sometimes she does OK, sometimes nothing at all. And then puking every day. I swapped her back even to a few cans of the Junk Food (Whiskas) I still had laying around. She’d eat it... and then puke it up. And also she... stopped sleeping with me. I thought... well, it’s summer. It’s probably too hot to cuddle. But she stopped laying on the bed. She stopped coming up for pets when I come to bed and hang out for awhile specifically to spend time with her and pet her. She runs under the bed again when I come into the room. It’s like we regressed to three or four years ago... just two weeks after our two year anniversary of getting to pet her.

So this afternoon we went to the vet. Getting her into the carrier sucked. I tried nice methods, then I had to scare her into the closet by running the vacuum, and then pretty roughly grab her. I have scratches and a pretty deep bite on my thumb which either maybe hit a nerve or is infected, may have to go to the doctor for it tomorrow. (Yes, washed it thoroughly with soap as soon as I could.) I also hated betraying her trust that badly, but it’s for her own good. But it was rough.

Dr B. wasn’t working so I saw one of the other vets. I liked him. Also COVID restrictions are gone so I got to go inside. But after talking to him for a few minutes, going over her history and what changes I’ve made, he spent a long time rubbing her intestines (Patchy was perfectly behaved, at least.) Then he looked concerned. Then he said let’s do an ultrasound.

A few minutes he came back in and showed me her scans.

Lymphoma.

I was a bit stunned for a second so I missed a bit of the technical speak he said next, but it came down to the best thing we could do is give her some medicine that may buy her more time. It doesn’t sound like Chemo or Operating is even really an option. I’m going to call back tomorrow and see if Dr. B or the vet I talked to can talk me through it a little better now that I’ve had a chance to digest.

If I can get Patchy to take the medicine, and if she responds well to it... she may have 3 - 6 months left.

If she won’t take it, or if she doesn’t respond, it’s at this point, a matter of her comfort and quality of life. So... weeks. And I’m worried about getting her to take the medicine, especially since she won’t even come let me pet her and we just had a huge trust betrayal today. I don’t know if I could take her spending her last few weeks hating me, especially if the medicine doesn’t work.

The vet also told me that... I didn’t do anything wrong. And we did the right thing six or so weeks ago by changing her food and seeing if a few other things worked. Especially with how good her blookwork looked. He barely felt the cancer today, he said six weeks ago Dr. B wouldn’t have been able to feel it at all. And for this particular type of lymphoma... there’s not a lot to be done, anyway. That made me feel better, at least.

(As a really dumb side note, after I got her home, I sat down to eat dinner and watch an episode of Star Trek to take my mind off of all of this since I’d been crying since I found out, paid my bill, and drove home, stopping at a drive through so I didn’t have the mental load of cooking. And I’m in the middle of my rewatch of Enterprise. I bet any trekkies reading this can guess what episode was next in my rewatch because yep I’m in season two and A NIGHT IN SICKBAY started playing, of course, so obviously I NOPED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT EPISODE. For the non-Trekkies.... the Captain has a dog on board, an adorable beagle, Porthos. The dog gets sick and almost dies and spends his night in Sickbay. He does pull through. But the ONE episode centered around a beloved pet getting sick and almost dying... and that’s the episode that fate decreed I was supposed to watch tonight. I did not. I don’t know if I can watch it anytime soon.)

So now for the next few weeks I will spend my time being grateful that Leela is alive and thriving and pray she keeps doing so -- I will continue to give her extra love and care and attention, and also I will need to do the same for Patchy. I can’t even do it at the same time because Patchy will not come out here, and will not allow Leela in her room.

I am low-key freaking out that there’s the possibility of the nightmare scenario happening to me again. In winter 2016, after months of being sick, I woke up on Christmas morning and my 16-year-old cat Jim had died overnight. It was terrible, and traumatic, and I had to deal with everything all alone because anyone who could support me was... well, it was Christmas morning and my family was all out of town, too. Posting about it on Tumblr... actually really helped me, since it’s the only place I felt like I could talk about it.

That Christmas was on a Sunday.

Wednesday morning I woke up to hearing my dog, Cebu, moaning in pain. I rushed him to the vet, but whatever happened overnight, it was too late, maybe there wasn’t anything we ever could have done even if I’d been awake when the puking started. The vet said the kindest thing we could do was put him to sleep. And we did.

Also I just, JUST now realized that the vet who helped put Cebu to sleep was the same vet who I saw today about Patchy.

But I lost two of my pets within 3 days of each other. I was very lucky that my job let us have the week between Christmas and New Years off that year. I had a few days to pull myself together, and I needed it. It took months to recover totally, though. Every once in awhile I think about that week and I still cry, though. I miss them both so much and they both had deaths that were less than ideal.

I remember thinking then “I have like, five years of reprive. Leela will be sixteen in five years, and that’s when I have to start to worry again, when I have to be ready to say goodbye again.”

I thought then that even after that I’d have two or three years until Patchy would leave me, and two or three years past that until Fry. And then five more years with Pemily.

Right now I’m realizing that I will likely lose Patchy, very best case in six months, but possibly before July is over.

I need Leela to keep thriving. I don’t know how I would handle losing another two so close together again.

Patchy is... she’s the one who chose me. I chose my other cats. Fry and Pemily I plucked from the backyard when they were tiny kittens and brought them inside. They didn’t have a choice. Leela I adopted from a rescue, she didn’t have a choice. Patchy chose to stay. She chose to stick around when she realized I’d feed her. It took years but she learned to trust, she chose to come inside when it was cold, when it was hot, when it was storming, and when she was pregnant. She chose me to help raise the last litter of kittens she’d ever had. (My entire Rescue Kitties tag is full of adventures in finding, raising and usually adopting out strays. Lots and lots of posts about Patchy and her final litter. Been awhile since I’ve done it, though.)

I used to joke that Patchy was my roommate, not a pet. She ate, drank, did her business, and kept to herself for a long time. Don’t get me wrong, she was a very good, quiet, considerate roommate and I loved her. But it wasn’t until that wonderful day she let me pet her that I felt like she was my pet.

I loved having her just hanging out living in the house since 2014, but the last two years especially have brought me such joy. I’ve tried to never take Patchy’s trust in me for granted. It was EARNED. Every small step forward was a milestone to be celebrated. I worked for every bit of trust and love Patchy has given me, and have been rewarded. And it was worth it. Every minute. Every long, patient year.

Even now I’m telling myself... without me, she would have died years ago. Probably violently, or starved, maybe frozen to death. Getting to die of cancer brought on by older age is not something that most feral cats ever get to do. Getting to become an inside kitty where she’s loved, and comfortable for the second half of her life was something remarkable, brought on by her wiles and will to survive for so many years, bolstered by the food I left out for her. She’s had this much time, this much life, this much comfort and love that she would have never had otherwise, and that’s something to be happy about.

I’ve watched dozens of ferals come and go through my neighborhood throughout the years. I feed them, I work on seeing if I can get them to trust me enough to let me TNR them, but even those that I have, I don’t keep seeing for much longer. There’s one right now, I jokingly call him Patchy’s Boyfriend. He still won’t trust me and never has fallen for the trap when I’ve tried. But he’s there most nights when I feed him around 11. He’s getting terribly thin despite the quality food I leave out. I’ll miss him.

But none of them were Patchy. None of them became what she is to me. None of them survived long enough to adapt and decide to live another life.

Also? I wouldn’t have Pemily without her. Pemily is literally Patchy’s Granddaughter and that is one more thing I love Patchy for.

I feel guilty sometimes, both because I don’t spend nearly enough waking hours with her I feel, but I have three others who need me, as well. One who’s time is growing short, as well. And they don’t get to sleep with me, she does. What a joy it was all winter when I would wake up and she’d be sleeping on my chest. I’d get a bit annoyed when she’d sleep with her backside to my face and her tail would tickle my face and wake me up. I’m a side-sleeper half the night and she hated that it was harder to get comfortable on me that way. She still doesn’t want to have my hand just stay on her, she wants pets and skirtches, no long-form touching. That’s ok. I sleep better with her weight on me.

I don’t know what the next few weeks or months will hold, but at least pet-wise, it’s going to be rough. I’m going to wrap this up and give these three out here a good pet, then go hope Patchy comes and asks for love, too. Tomorrow is one more day with all four of them, and for that, I’ll be grateful, for every remaining day.

#personal post tag thingy #my pets #pet illness tw #pet death tw

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gamebird · 3 years

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Lazy Sunday morning

Tomorrow I get my left ovary taken out, if all goes well. It’s about the size of a baseball. At the start of this process toward surgery, I had a torsion incident which happens with cystic ovaries - you do something that causes it to get twisted, which can turn into sepsis and kill you, or it untwists and still hurts like hell for a few weeks. And cystic ovaries cause various other “minor” problems like cramps, odd hormone levels that lead to various masculine features (hair growth, etc.), and the occasional danger of cyst rupture, heightened by doing vigorous pelvic stuff. Like, say, the Brazilian jujitsu I enjoy.

About the same time as the torsion incident, I began to have terrible fatigue, mental fog, and near constant cramps. I thought they two were connected until my doctor swapped out my IUD for a new one and most of those symptoms vanished within hours of getting the new IUD. I was flabbergasted. Still am. It’s so weird. But anyway, with energy levels back to normal, getting the ovary out isn’t as important, but they’re going to do it anyway.

Then I’ll have two weeks off work for recovery. I plan to start working out again in May and return to jujitsu in June. Now that the house move is done, my daughter’s no longer trying to kill herself, and my dad isn’t dying, I think I can get back to getting in shape and prioritizing myself.

Yesterday, we went out to the Oddities fair and then a nature walk. My sister came with us to the Oddities fair with her daughter. The daughter came with us on the nature walk. Daughter is 12. My daughter is 14. They enjoyed each other’s company. But then as we’re driving home, my daughter tells me my sister’s daughter has self-harm cuts along her inner arm, told me my sister didn’t believe in anxiety or therapy, didn’t approve/believe in any non-heterosexual orientations, that the daughter was bullied at school, and was under a lot of emotional stress.

Huh.

My daughter wants me to “do” something about this and ride to my niece’s rescue. I suppose it’s nice that she has such faith in me. I’ll talk to my sister about the self-harm and see where it goes from there.

In other news, I got a ‘not quite cost of living’ raise at work. That’s been the same for my entire career. There’s only been once I think when a raise was more than the bare minimum a company could do. Most years it’s the ‘the economy was tough this year, no raise for anyone’ crap. Then I’d switch jobs and get paid $5k/yr more at the new job and be like, ‘okay, well, whatever. I got my raise one way or another’. Anyway, I’m not feeling inclined to leave my current job. The people are okay, the drive is short, the work is fine, and the salary is enough to keep my bills paid.

Writing. Different WIPs:

The next chapter of Integration. It’s done-ish. Just needs another pass or two. I might publish it today because tomorrow is surgery.

The chapter after that of Integration. I have the dialogue and actions, but it could do with a lot of fleshing out on what that all means to Nile, who is the POV character.

There’s a No Arabic follow-up that I paid a Fandom Trumps Hate person for beta consult on. I really should finish that up and publish it so they get credit.

There’s some other TOG stories I want to finish, like the one where the shark got Nicky or the aftermath of Andy getting burned at the stake. They’re angst and hurt/comfort. I’m not super motivated on them even though they’re nearly ‘done’, because they don’t have an ending other than ‘and then they were healed up and everything was fine’.

MBU (More Between Us, Heroes) - There’s an epilogue I need to polish up and publish, closing out that story. I have a draft done, but I need to put some careful thought (and maybe some tweaks) into that before posting it.

TLJ as Porn Scenes (Star Wars, bookend story to TFA as Porn Scenes) - I have some of this written and would love to finish it up. With the ovary thing, wonky hormones, and brain fog, my motivation to write smut has been in the dirt. I don’t know if anyone follows my writing enough to have noticed my TOG stuff has yet to include a sex scene. Considering that’s around 100k words - I dunno, guys, for me that’s kind of weird. If I publish today’s Integration chapter, it has part of a sex scene, but I skip over it really fast because the ‘important stuff’ is the lead-up and aftermath/aftercare. The sex itself is just hard for me to get worked up about these days.

Anyway, I’ll have two weeks to recover from the surgery and maybe my libidinous interests will return? Other things than writing that I hope to get to during that time:

Gardening. I have yard-long beans and basket gourds to plant as soon as it warms up, which looks to be next week maybe. In other gardening subjects, I want to get my dad’s garden in (it’s still a WIP) and weed/fertilize my asparagus bed. It’s fresh this year, so all it’s doing is growing. Today I have a couple sage plants to get into the ground as I continue to round out my herb garden. I might put them near the front porch. They do well in part shade anyway and I’ve filled up most of the other good spots.

I’d like to do some fishing before it gets hot.

I want to make sure my round hay bale is a sufficient backstop for target shooting with my .22. It’s making a great archery target!

I want to break into my bee hives and make sure they’re doing good. I need to reposition a couple empty hives as swarm traps, because if it warms up just a little more, they’ll be swarming.

I have two fanzines to read! Epoch for TOG and a Kylux one.

I have a list of TV shows and movies to watch, which I hope to plow through over the next week while I’m doing most of my healing.

I’ve also put some more stuff on my Read Later list. I need to get through the short things. And I’d like to knock off one or two of the longer ones that are on there.

#me

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