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vanwritesfan-fiction · 4 months

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Body Like a Back Road

Request: Joe Burrow and reader go on spontaneous road trip during off season.

Warnings: smut (fingering, intercourse), language, mentions of a funeral

A/N: my second stand alone Joe fic! Enjoy!

"In 500 feet, turn right". The voice of the GPS startled you out of your nap, your head knocking against the window as the car went over a pothole. "Ow!" You pressed a hand to the side of your face, grimacing at the sharp pain. Joe snickered as he glanced over at you, his hands flexing open and closed as he balanced them on the top of the steering wheel. "Good, you're awake."

"Where are we?", you grumbled out as you stood up, stretching your arm over your chest in hopes of getting the knot out of your shoulder from sleeping against the door. There were no signs to indicate your current location, and for the past eight hours, everything out of your window looked the same, nothing but trees along each side and the open road.

"We're just outside of St. Louis. At least according to the GPS, but I think I made a couple wrong turns about an hour ago, so I know fuck all where we are." Joe bit at his thumb nail, something he always did when he was stressed. "Great." You whispered, leaning your head against the window. The vibration of the car was lulling you back to sleep, your eyelids growing heavy.

The season was finally over, and after a less than stellar year, Joe was going stir crazy sitting around with nothing to do. He could only hit the gym so many times a day and watch game tape over and over before it started to get boring. When you mentioned to him that you had to travel to Denver to attend the funeral of one of your distant cousins as a favor to your mom, he offered to tag along with you, and against your better judgement you said yes.

Going to a family funeral was something that a boyfriend did for their girlfriend, not for their fuck buddy. You didn't want to give Joe, and honestly, you're own heart, the wrong idea about where you stood, but the thought of making a 17 hour drive alone sounded like torture.

Your relationship with Joe was...complicated, to say the least. You had been friends through college, and for the longest, it was nothing more than that, but when you both ended up in Cincy, Joe was drafted to the Bengals and you had just settled in the city with your first big-girl job, it became something more. You were both lonely, living in a new place, and you leaned on each other for support.

The first time you slept with Joe, you considered it a fluke, a slip up that could easily happen between friends. After months of consistently ending up in bed together, you realized that the two of you were in too deep. Now, a couple years later, it had become more habit than anything else, and you weren't even sure if you could call yourself friends as much as you had become a source of comfort for one another. You knew it was best to end it before anyone got hurt, but for some reason, you just couldn't.

Joe slapped your thigh, making you jump. "Hey, I need you to stay up. This GPS is useless."

"In 200 feet, turn left onto Franklin Street."

"Franklin Street?!" Joe gestured wildly to the left of him. "There is no fuckin' Franklin Street! Does she want me to drive into the woods?" Joe scoffed as he leaned back in his seat. You leaned forward to see there in fact was no Franklin Street, chuckling to yourself. "Don't let her get to you, J. You know she's not real, right?"

"Ya know what...its not even the GPS, its your damn car. Piece of junk." He slapped the console, the volume dial falling out of place. You grabbed it, shoving it back onto its slot. "Hey, Darla has been there for me since I was 16. She is a classic." Truthfully, Darla was hanging on by a thread, and the last time you brought her to a mechanic they offered you $200 for her to use for scraps, but you didn't have the money for a new or gently used car right now, and as long as you didn't go over 50 mph, she drove fine.

"A classic piece of shit", he mumbled under his breath, earning a slap on the arm from you. "Shit!", he rubbed at his chest, "do you wanna drive? 'Cause I can pull over right now."

"Funny, because she wasn't a piece of shit all of the times we were doin' it in the backseat." You propped your feet on the dashboard.

"Yeah, good times." Joe's ran his fingers through his hair nervously, his face starting to heat up. He was glad you went back to sleep so you couldn't see him start to sweat.

"Wake me up when we get to Kansas." You grabbed Joe's hat from the dashboard, pulling it over your eyes to block out the evening sun.

****

The next few hours went by like a dream as you went in and out of consciousness, listening to Joe's terrible singing along to the Hamilton soundtrack as he managed to eat through all of the snacks you packed for a two day drive.

You took in a deep breath as you woke up to darkness, the overhead light blinding you as you rubbed your eyes to try to focus your vision. As soon as you noticed you were alone, the driver's door was wide open, and Joe was gone, you began to panic.

"Joe! Joe, where are you? This isn't funny!" All horror movie protocol went out of the window as you unbuckled and climbed out of the car.

"Joe!" Silence. You grabbed your phone out of your back pocket and turned on the flashlight as you rounded the back of the car, illuminating the eerie thicket of trees you were parked next to. "Joe, I swear to God, if you're hiding somewhere I'm gonna kill you." You took a step forward, jumping as you heard a twig snap beneath your feet. You held your breath, feeling your pounding heartbeat in your ears as you listened for any sound of life. Again, silence.

"You know what? I'm just gonna assume you're already dead and keep it pushing." You called out to the open. You had seen Friday the 13th enough times to know there was no way you were going to outrun anyone. You turned back to the car, noticing a figure flash by out of the corner of your eye.

"BOOO!!" Joe jumped out from behind the car, his arms swinging above his head to appear terrifying. You collided with him, bouncing off of his strong frame, and landed on your ass.

"Ha! You should have seen your face!" Joe bellowed over with laughter as you stood and dusted the dirt off of your pants, a scowl on your face. "Fuck, that was so worth it." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

You shoved him, hard, making his back hit the car. "What the hell were you even doing? Why did we stop?" You opened the trunk and grabbed a sweatshirt out of your bag, feeling the chill on your skin as the temperature dropped after dark. "Had to take a piss."

"I feel like we've been driving forever. How far to the motel?" You were beginning to get cranky, your empty stomach contributing to your sour mood. "Still got another two hours until we get to Kansas City and stop for the night." You both got back into the car, but as Joe tried to turn the engine, it only sputtered a couple of times before dying out.

"C'mon", Joe groaned, cranking the key again to no avail. 'Fuck!" He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, hitting the horn. "Your piece of shit car died, Y/N."

"Its not Darla's fault, you probably made her mad stopping in the middle of nowhere."

He pressed his forehead to the wheel. "Please tell me you have roadside assistance."

"Um...define "roadside assistance"?" You had AAA at one point, but let your membership expire when you couldn't afford the monthly payment anymore. "Y/N! What if I wasn't here?! You would have been stranded in the middle of Kansas by yourself with no way to get help!" Joe didn't mean to yell at you, but just the thought of you being out here alone was stressing him out.

"Good thing you're here, then." You harmlessly placed a hand on his thigh to reassure him as you scrolled the internet for tow trucks. Neither of you realized that Joe had grabbed your hand in his, interlacing your fingers. As you rose your head, feeling him massaging your fingers mindlessly as he stared ahead, you felt your stomach flip. "Joe", you uttered out, waiting for him to look at you.

"Oh, sorry." He snatched his hand back, running his fingers through his blonde locks. He didn't even realize he had done it. You were his safe place, and touching you brought him comfort in a way that he really didn't understand himself. You were no stranger to his touch, but it was always in the name of getting off.

"I think I found a place a couple miles away. ETA is...2 hours." You let out a frustrated sigh. Waiting two hours for a two truck meant you weren't going to see a shower or bed anytime soon. You desperately wanted to wash this road trip off with the hottest water a hotel shower could produce.

Joe leaned his seat back, the worn leather creaking underneath him as he sunk down, crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. "What are you doing?", you asked, shifting in your seat to face him.

"What does it look like?"

"You can't fall asleep. What if some monster comes and snatches me out of my window?" You were partly kidding, partly terrified that would actually happen. "That's not gonna happen", he huffed, "I'm not that lucky." You scoffed, throwing your feet over his lap. "You need to stay up and keep me company. Those are the rules of the roadtrip."

"Please. I just drove eight hours, five of which you were asleep."

"Joe, please. Just until the tow truck gets here."

"Fine. Tell me about your cousin. Were you close?", Joe hummed, scratching his nose. "Technically she's my mom's cousin, and no, I've never met her. My mom was close with her at one time, but they lost touch years ago. I'm just going to represent the family."

Joe opened an eye to peek at you. "You're going all the way to Denver for someone you've never met?"

"Why do you sound so shocked? I can do things out of the kindness of my heart." You clutched your chest dramatically, but Joe just chuckled, dropping his shoulders in a sigh. "It's just... ya know what? Nevermind."

"What? Tell me."

"Its just...are you sure that's all that it is? In all the time I've known you, you do things out of comfort. I'm not saying its a bad thing, but this isn't like you." He was looking at you know, his blue eyes illuminated by the orange hued overhead lighting. He was staring into your soul, like he was trying to pull something out of you, and you squirmed underneath the scrutiny.

Your head snapped when you saw a pair of headlights coming down the road, but it was just a passing car. "We have had sex in this car so many times, because you don't even want to come to my place most of the time." You turned back to Joe, whose eyes were closed again.

You bit at your bottom lip. You never realized anyone was paying attention to you that closely, especially not Joe. "I've been thinking a lot about the things I've settled for in my life, and this felt like a breath of fresh air, something different. I'm going a funeral, but I'm also getting out of Ohio for a minute."

Your words hit Joe like a ton of bricks. He quickly sat up. "Are you thinking about leaving Ohio?"

"Eventually", you shrugged. "You didn't think I'd be there forever did you?" you giggled, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. "I mean, I guess, I- didn't give it much thought." Joe let in a sharp breath to stop his fumbling. He did think you'd be there forever, or at least, he always thought you'd be there as long as he was.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find a new fuck buddy", you said in jest, crossing your legs one over the other. Joe felt his throat go dry, his skin crawling in the silence. He was desperate to change the subject and get his mind off all of the terrible possibilities. "How much longer?"

You checked your phone. "Still got another hour. I'm starving. Did you really eat all of the snacks?" You sat up and crawled into the back of the car to search the bags you packed. "Really, Joe, even my Cheetos? Aren't you on some sort of athlete diet?" You threw the empty bag at him, the plastic hitting him in the face. "I was hungry." He tried to go to the sleep to the sound of you rummaging behind him.

"Hey, look what I found." Joe opened his eyes to see a gold-wrapped condom dangling in front of his face. "I have an idea of how we can pass the time", you whispered in his ear, making him shiver. "If you're not too tired."

"Fuck it." With a grunt, he ripped the condom out of your hands, and took it between his teeth as he unbuttoned his jeans. You frantically climbed to the front, stripping off your sweatshirt before climbing over him to straddle his legs. You turn off the overhead light, moonlight pouring over both of you through the window.

Goosebumps rose on your skin as you pulled him in for a messy kiss, your skin on fire even though seconds ago you were freezing. As you made out, his hands trailed around your waist, inching closer and closer to your spine before his large hands slid down the small of your back and grabbed rough handfuls of your ass, his fingers digging into your delicate skin as your back arched.

He began to move your hips slowly back and forth, making you grind against his pelvis, but he was going too slow for your taste, so you grabbed at his hands, circling your hips against him with an eagerness that had his hips bucking from sensitivity. You could feel him grow hard quickly against your inner thigh, letting out little moans into your mouth as your lips lingered together.

'Y/N, honey-", Joe could barely get the words out, his chest heaving with each breath. "What?", you huffed out without losing your pacing. "What's the rush?", His brow knitted together in pain as his cock rubbed against his zipper. "The tow truck is gonna be here any minute." Joe nodded, holding you in place. You backed away from him, pushing the hair that was stuck to his face with sweat out of his eyes. "We're having sex. I'd like to have use of my dick afterwards, okay?"

You giggled, pulling him by the collar of his shirt for another kiss, alternating between sucking on his top and bottom lips. You moved your hips again, this time with more control, focusing on the friction against your clit with each movement. "Better?", you questioned, only earning a moan from Joe. You could feel yourself growing wet, your panties soaked as you built your orgasm off of friction alone. Joe fumbled with the button of your shorts, sliding his hand down your front, feeling the wetness pooled against the cotton fabric.

"Shit, I didn't realize you were so ready." He toyed with the band of your panties, snapping the elastic against your skin. "Take these off." You lifted yourself off of Joe's lap, settling in the passenger seat, and shuffled your shorts and panties down your legs, kicking them into the back seat. Joe pulled you back onto his lap, eliciting a squeal from you, and in a single breath, he has you writhing on top of him again, his thumb pressing against your clit as he draws agonizingly circles around the sensitive bud.

"Fuck, fuck, don't stop." You hiss, guiding his fingers to drag through your drenched folds, humping against his hand. He slides one of his large digits inside of your pussy, feeling you clench around him, your muscles pulsing as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He slips another finger inside, and you feel the stretch, taking deep breaths as he hooks his fingers and strokes against your cushiony ceiling.

Watching your face contort with pleasure, your chest bouncing in front of him with your head thrown back has him at a loss for words, desperate to get his hands on every inch of you. He helps you get your shirt off over your head, reaching behind your back to easily unclasp the hooks of your bra with his free hand, exposing your budding nipples to the cold air.

Joe leans forward, flicking his tongue against your nipple, and ghosting wet kisses between your breasts. You move back instinctively when he nips at your skin, but he pulls you aggressively back, hungry to feel you in his mouth again. "Feels so good, baby." Expletives are rolling off your tongue as he sucks harder on your nipples. Your hands find the back of his head, your fingernails raking against his scalps as he moves down to your stomach, pressing a kiss right above your belly button as you lean against the steering wheel.

He pulls out of you, your wetness glistening on his fingers. Without hesitation, you take both of his fingers into your mouth, pressing them against your tongue. "You look so fuckin' beautiful like this", he grunts out, his mouth slightly agape as he watches you. Instead of your usual bashfulness at his dirty talk, you hold eye contact with him, your eyelids heavy with lust as you lick him clean, popping his index finger against your lips as you pull them out.

"Fuck, lift your hips." He instructs, racing against his internal clock, like he'll cum in his pants if he doesn't have you now. You do as he says, cupping your chest as he fumbles for the discarded condom, finding it in the cupholder. He unbuckles his belt and pushes his jeans and boxers down to his knees, his pink cock springing free and resting against his lower stomach. You salivate at the engorged vein that travels from the base of his cock to the tip, which is leaking pre-cum.

"Hurry up!" You playfully push him, turning to look over your shoulder for any tow trucks or stray cars, but its obvious the two of you are alone out here. He rips the foil wrapper with his teeth, and removes the condom, rolling it down his length. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock as you slowly sink down on him, taking him inch by inch until you bottom out with a loud moan. "Oh, fuck."

He pulls at the manual recline handle and goes flying back, landing against the backseat with a thud, hitting the back of his head against the headrest. "I fuckin' hate this car", he mumbles, quickly forgetting about the ancient vehicle and his injury as you begin to bounce on his dick, the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs audible, quickly drowned out by the squelching of your wetness as he slips in and out of you.

Joe can't focus on anything but how good you feel and how good you look on top of him, your silhouette illuminated in the moonlight, his hands grazing against the curve of your waist and hips. You feel your legs start to fatigue so you lean forward, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the contours of his muscles underneath your palms.

He takes the opportunity to worship your body as you ride him, placing kisses on your arms and chest while you're too blissed out to even notice. "So fuckin good, baby. You're doin' so fuckin' good", he praises you over and over, which has you hurdling toward your orgasm, feeling the coil tighten in your core.

"Joe", you whimper out, your pace slowing as you tire. "I've got you", he remarks, sliding his hands underneath your thighs to hold you up while he snaps his hips into you, making you take him to the hilt each time. He strokes your g-spot in perfect succession each time and you're sure you won't last much longer. "I'm-I'm gonna cum." You bite out, your words vibrating through your bouncing chest, your nails digging into his pecs, leaving red marks. He increases his pace, hitting against your cervix, the car squeaking and shaking side to side as you come undone, your release washing over you with waves of pleasure.

Joe's right behind you, his face scrunched tight as he feels every muscle in his body contract, "Fuck, I'm gonna cum", he warns just in time, and you pepper kisses against his jawline as his hips stutter. You try to kiss him, but he can only draw in sharp breaths as he releases into you, residual muscle pulses from your orgasm milking him for every drop.

Completely spent, he draped an arm around your back, pulling your weight down on his body. Your chests heave in succession as you come down from your high and try to catch your breath. You lazily kiss his cheek with a smile. "Fuck, that was-"

"I love you." You both were silent, the declaration hanging in the air. Joe was shocked at the words as if they didn't come out of his own mouth. You lifted your head to look at him, your hands still clamped around his face. "What did you say?"

"What?" Joe responded, in immediate denial. He tried to look away, but you turned his head back to you. You heard your phone vibrating in the passenger seat but you ignored it, unable to take your eyes off of him. His face was soft, genuine, his eyes very telling. He meant what he said.

Your phone vibrated for a second time. "Its probably the tow truck. You should get that." Joe was desperate for a reprieve. "Yeah." You shook your head and climbed off his lap, grabbing your phone to answer it. "Hello? Yes, we're around mile marker 152. Okay." You hurriedly put your clothes back on, Joe watching you through the rear view mirror the entire time. He could physically see you trying to process what had just happened, and he honestly wished he'd never said anything. He wasn't sure if he loved you, he was too lost in the moment, thinking with his dick instead of his head.

"They'll be here in five." Your words jogged Joe out of his trance. He nodded and got out of the car, desperate for air. You needed to talk about what happened, but right now, you just wanted to focus on getting your car towed and getting to the nearest hotel so you could get some sleep.

The ride in the tow truck was uncomfortably quiet. You rested your head against the window, your arms crossed over your chest to create as much distance between the two of you as possible, desperate to close your eyes even for a few minutes. Joe glanced over at you multiple times in the short five mile ride to the hotel. He raked a hand through his messy hair, moving to stroke his jawline, the guilt of catching you off guard and professing his love for you in the heat of the moment, gnawing at him.

The hotel was very basic, no amenities and didn't even a continental breakfast, and wasn't really up to Joe's standards, but it was the only one in town, so he'd settle for it just for the night. He stood in the lobby and watched you as you checked in, making light conversation with the desk attendant.

Maybe if he just denied it, or avoided talking about it, you two could move past this, and it could all be a bad memory.

He felt a lump build in his throat as you walked toward him. Seeing the distress on your face, he knew there was no way you were getting over this anytime soon. "Look, Y/N-"

Your face was stoic as you threw your bag over your shoulder. You shoved a key card in his direction without a word. "Goodnight, Joe." He watched you walk away, flipping the key card in his hand.

What the hell had he just done?

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lafemmemacabre · 1 year

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Goth 101

🦇 tl;dr version for those who prefer that format

Goth is a music-based subculture that started out in the UK in the late 70s/early 80s and spread internationally from there. It spawned from the UK Punk scene, keeping the DIY ethics but turning the music more melancholic, introspective and experimental.

The music genres that the subculture was built around are (dark) Post-Punk, Gothic Rock, Darkwave, Ethereal Wave and a few other smaller subgenres.

While the fashion and other non-musical aesthetics are very prominent and beloved by goths, they're non-essential to the subculture. What defines a goth is the music we listen to.

Our "big 4" bands are The Cure, Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus and the Banshees. However, 3 out of 4 of those bands are Post-Punk acts (Sisters of Mercy being the exception Gothic Rock band), and while very influential to the rest of the goth music scene, they by no means are the end-all, be-all of what goth music sounds like. The genre has evolved through its over 40 years of existence, creating diverse sounds. Anyone darkly inclined can find something to love, even if it takes a bit of research.

The Dark & Gothic playlist on Spotify is a pretty decent way to get started into goth music. In my old blog I had entire tags dedicated to goth music as a whole, and separately to Post-Punk, Gothic Rock, Darkwave and Ethereal Wave too. I had a few playlists based on popular goth aesthetics here.

The longer description of goth music will include playlists for each bigger goth subgenre, but please keep in mind they're made by me in a way that appeals to my personal tastes for each subgenre. I don't know every band that exists and my personal taste is biased towards the 90s.

Now, to a more detailed introduction to the goth subculture...

🦇 Dark alternative vs Goth

What a lot of people need clarified is that the goth subculture doesn't have a monopoly on the dark alternative world, nor are we the home for everyone sad, spooky and weird who doesn't fit in and might listen to any sort of sad, spooky or weird alternative music.

There are SO many dark alternative music scenes that have nothing or very little to do with the goth subculture. We've influenced a lot of them fashion-wise, but just because they copied us we look alike doesn't mean we're interchangeable.

There's no scale that goes from Prep to Goth and measures how Valid™ your inner darkness is, in which if you're anything below goth then you're a poser and lame. It's perfectly fine and cool to be dark alternative without being a goth. Goth isn't a badge of legitimacy or honor, it's just one specific flavor of dark alternative among so many.

Goth is a very small and obscure subculture despite our superficial hypervisbility (our looks and infamy are hypervisible, what we're actually about is extremely buried underground), and most dark alternative people aren't goths.

🦇 What does it take to be a goth?

There's one rule, and one rule only: LISTEN TO THE MUSIC. You wouldn't call yourself a metalhead without being a fan of Metal music, would you? The same principle applies to goth.

There are many types of alternative subcultures; some examples are fashion-based subcultures, another are lifestyle-based subcultures. A third type of subculture that's very prominent (especially in the West) are music-based subcultures.

Goth is a music-based subculture, just like the metalhead, punk, emo, rivethead/Industrial, hip-hop, rave, K-Pop and grunge subcultures are.

This means that, while the music isn't THE ONLY aspect the subculture has, in order to be a goth you have to listen to goth music, and we have a specific set of music genres that our subculture was built around, so not just anything dark and melancholy will do, as we don't have a monopoly on that, but we do have something closer to a monopoly on a specific sound and musical legacy.

You don't have to listen to goth music EXCLUSIVELY to be a goth, that'd be insane. You don't even have to limit yourself to dark alternative music either. You just have to listen to goth music to a relevant degree and be passionate about it and you're in, the rest is up to you.

This means too that the way you dress has no impact on your validity as a goth, whether you don't have the gothic wardrobe of your dreams yet or you just don't want to dress goth at all. I'm TikTok mutuals with a girl who dresses exclusively in pink-white sweet lolita coords, but who's passionate about goth music. She's a goth, no questions about it. On the other hand, a lot of the influencers you'll see online who look like a lost Addams cousin aren't goths at all, and no house decor or outfit will make them gothier if they don't listen to the music.

🦇 What music counts as goth?

From the previous points I made you probably gathered that Industrial and Metal ⁠– both genres that outsiders usually associate with the goth subculture ⁠– aren't actually part of the goth genre. So, what is goth music?

Goth music developed initially in the UK in the late 70s/early 80s off of dark Post-Punk. Post-Punk itself developed from UK 70s Punk Rock, being also influenced by Glam Rock, experimental electronic music, and many other influences more specific to each band that took part in this musical development (Bauhaus were very influenced by Reggae!).

What characterizes the goth sound are elements such as; being bass-driven rather than guitar-driven (in almost every case), guitars playing more of a decorative or atmospheric role instead of being the main focus (which contrasts starkly against genres such as Metal), preference for voices with a lower vocal range (altos, this is your genre to shine in!), optional use of synthesizers, recurrent replacing of human drummers with drum machines, and common use of lots of reverb and delay effects everywhere for an extra sensation that you're listening to music recorded in a catacomb.

Dark Post-Punk was the starting point of the goth subculture, and from it, all other goth music subgenres developed. Depending on who you ask there's a billion goth micro-genres. In my opinion a lot of those subgenres are rather meaningless (a lot of them are just specific flavors of Post-Punk or Darkwave) but the main 4 subgenres of goth music are:

(Dark) Post-Punk

Gothic Rock

Darkwave

Ethereal Wave

POST-PUNK:

Post-Punk took the standard sound of Punk Rock and its DIY ethics and made the sound more melancholic, romantic, experimental, less angry, and more introspective. Dark Post-Punk in particular was influenced by gothic literature and old horror movies (including their soundtracks, the Banshees created their characteristic guitar sound after the violins in the Psycho soundtrack).

Besides the 3 Post-Punk bands I listed as part of the goth "big 4", there's bands such as Skeletal Family, Twin Tribes, Specimen, She Wants Revenge, Sex Gang Children, Xmal Deutschland, Lebanon Hanover, Cruex Lies, The Secret French Postcards and The Birthday Party.

GOTHIC ROCK:

When goth became slightly more established in sound, Gothic Rock is what happened. Less experimental than Post-Punk, a bit more Rock-based, more decidedly dark and miserable than Post-Punk necessarily is, and finally severed from goth's punk roots. Sisters of Mercy is THE most popular and influential Gothic Rock band; they popularized the use of extremely low baritone vocals and drum machines. Despite existing since the 80s, its popularity peak was in the 90s.

Goth as a whole has its "big 4", but the subgenre of Gothic Rock has its own "big 3", which are Sisters of Mercy, The Mission (UK), and Fields of the Nephilim. Other Gothic Rock bands are Rosetta Stone, Corpus Delicti, Inkubus Sukkubus, Mephisto Walz, Angels of Liberty, Two Witches, Nosferatu, Wisborg and Soror Dolorosa.

DARKWAVE:

Goth going electronic! There's basically two types of Darkwave; the one that's more a combination of Post-Punk + Synthpop (very popular in the past decade), and the one that's more a combination of Gothic Rock + electronic music in general (most popular in the 90s). EXTREMELY danceable, but then again goths can dance to literally anything. This genre has existed at the very least since the second half of the 80s and has never stopped being relevant in the goth scene, save maybe during the Deathrock revival phase.

Clan of Xymox might be the single most influential Darkwave band. There's also The Frozen Autumn, The Crüxshadows, Switchblade Symphony, Collide, Dark, Ghosting, London After Midnight, She Past Away, Drab Majesty and Boy Harsher.

ETHEREAL WAVE:

This genre is heavily linked to Dream Pop, Neoclassical Darkwave and Shoegaze. Like with Darkwave there's basically a few styles of Ethereal Wave, I can pinpoint three; the one that's like, regular Goth Rock/Post-Punk but with a lot of extra delay and reverb and other stylistic choices that make it sound, well, Ethereal, dream-like. There's the type that has lots of Folk influences (be it Medieval/Rennaisance-ish type of Folk or "ethnic" type of Folk), and there's one that's synth-based but, unlike Darkwave, sounds like what ketamine must feel like. This genre has existed since the mid 80s but its peak in popularity and relevancy in the scene was in the 90s.

Dead Can Dance is THE most influential Ethereal Wave band, but there's others such as Cocteau Twins (started as Post-Punk, ended up as Dream Pop and Ethereal Wave), Miranda Sex Garden, Faith and the Muse, Lycia, Claire Voyant, Hamsas XIII, Love is Colder than Death, SRSQ, Black Tape for a Blue Girl and Mors Syphilitica.

What about Deathrock, Gothic Metal and Industrial?

Deathrock is goth's American twin, basically. While in the early 80s in the UK morose ex-punks were playing Post-Punk, in the early 80s in the LA Punk scene morbid and brooding punk kids were playing Deathrock; it's closer to Punk Rock in sound than Post-Punk, being more about being spooky and brooding than about being eerie and romantic. Goth is to vampires and witches what Deathrock is to zombies and werewolves.

To summarize the consensus on Deathrock and its place within the goth subculture; it's rare to find a goth who's not also into at least some Deathrock, and even rarer to find a deathrocker who's not into goth. Personally, I think Deathrock is its own separate though very similar thing, but I don't mind Deathrock being lumped in with goth music.

I made a whole TikTok video on why Gothic Metal isn't a goth subgenre, but in summary; Gothic Metal is a Metal subgenre that was somewhat influenced by goth music in its earliest stage of development, but is for the most part a cross between Doom Metal and Death Metal with lyrics inspired by gothic literature. By adhering to a Metal sound it doesn't fit the type of sound goth music has. The goth influences in Gothic Metal were mostly only present in the earliest bands and a majority of the newer acts are completely disconnected from the goth scene.

As for goth's ties to the rivethead subculture (and thus, Industrial music): We've been sibling subcultures since at least the early 90s. Both very, very small and underground scenes that despite being different, had enough similarities in music, idiosyncrasy and aesthetic sensibilities to comfortably band together for the sake of scene viability. That's why you might hear people talking about the "gothic-industrial scene".

Keep in mind too that 80s and 90s Industrial music sounded very different from how it does now (compare your average Grendel or Combichrist song to your average Skinny Puppy or Die Form song). There was a lot less influence of raver music in the rivethead scene back then, and a lot more influence from 80s dark alternative music and New Wave, which are key influences for the goth scene as well.

As told by goth YouTuber Angela Benedict (goth since 1995), every goth back then listened to at least some Industrial, every rivethead listened to at least some goth music, and they all loved 80s New Wave, so DJs at shared club nights had a very easy time entertaining both audiences simultaneously.

🦇 Trivia & other things to know

The term "gothic Rock" was being used in music journalism as early as to describe releases by The Doors and The Velvet Underground, but the word "gothic" there wasn't so much used to point to a specific type of sound at that stage, it was used to imply the mood of the music and that's not where the subculture gets its name.

We don't know for sure why this subculture began to be referred to as "goth", initially the music was called either New Wave (just a darker and more underground variety of it) or Positive Punk. However, one of the potential roots of this name for our subculture is that it comes from an inside joke from members of Southern Death Cult/The Cult about Andi Sexgang (Sex Gang Children) about how he was a creepy little guy obsessed with the macabre and dark romanticism living at the Visigoth Towers, so they called him a "goth goblin" and if he was a goth, then his fans were goths too.

From the comments that the goth bloggers/vloggers I follow get, apparently it's common for baby bats and people interested in the subculture to think that they HAVE to find a goth "type" to lock themselves into, like "trad goth" or "romantic goth" or whatever else, and if they don't, they're a poser. This isn't true at all. Most goths wax and wane between fashion styles and goth music subgenres. These terms are far more useful to describe aesthetics rather than people or music.

If you ever hear people talk about "1st/2nd/3rd wave goth/Gothic Rock"; that's an (in my opinion) outdated and not too functional terminology to differentiate between "eras" of goth music, 1st wave being between 1975-1985, 2nd between 1985-1995, and 3rd between 1995-? That terminology was used widely when I was a baby bat but not so much anymore.

"Baby bat" is what a lot of more established goths call newbies! It's NOT meant as an insult nor to be condescending. It's a loving cutesy term and while of course most baby bats are very young, it's perfectly plausible to be a very grown adult and a baby bat if they just got into goth instead of getting into the subculture as a teen.

Most goth bands are easily found on Spotify except for more underground ones that haven't been active for a while (I have so many beloved bands and songs that just don't exist on Spotify), but the real goth jackpot is at Bandcamp.

Facebook is still useful for one (1) thing and it's for finding goth events; that's where I've found out about gothic fairs, goth nights and gigs; from the largely popular ones in my local scene to the very underground ones.

The song most of the subculture agrees is THE first official goth song is Bela Lugosi's Dead by Bauhaus, which was recorded as a singular take. It was the first track the band recorded together, too.

The Batcave is infamous nowadays as a huge goth night club in Soho (London) during the early 80s, owned by the band Specimen, BUT as told by the very people who used to frequent the nightclub, the whole thing has been a little overblown and its current reputation is more legend than fact. YouTuber Gothcast has a great video on the subject that was praised by members of Specimen itself!

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Most of the most iconic pioneer goth musicians HATE being referred to as goths or to have their music referred to as such. When the term "goth" was first starting to be used to describe our music and scene it was a pejorative used by outsiders and/or mostly associated with the campier and more "low brow" bands (Specimen and Alien Sex Fiend come to mind). Andrew Eldritch from Sisters of Mercy especially hates it, to the point he refuses to even say the word and refers to it as "the G word". Which is hilarious since he sounded the most stereotypically gothy out of the big 4 and looked like this at the time he started to be a piss baby about it:

Goth isn't really a "youth" subculture anymore if you ask people within the scene. Unlike people from many other subcultures, goths have a tendency to stay goth far into adulthood (even if covertly). When you go to any events, besides teens and people in their early 20s, you're gonna see plenty of goths in their 40s and older, a few of them will bring their kids along if the event is family friendly.

Besides the obvious chance of many goths being professional creatives (musicians, writers, artists, etc), for some reason A LOT of goths work in tech and healthcare!

Metalheads headbang, they and punks also mosh. What do goths do to vibe to our music together? We dance! We don't dance the same as non-goths but we LOVE to dance to our music, together or solo. There's no established dance styles to adhere to; it's just letting your body flow to the music. Some goth dancing is very intricate, some of it is very simple, it depends on the goth in question. Just in case, this is NOT like the dance gifs of cybergoths/rivetheads under that damned bridge. Think less that and more Wednesday Addams dancing to The Cramps, or the girl from the Night of the Demons movie. Here's some videos about how goths dance:

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We fucking love 80s New Wave. No, Depeche Mode isn't a goth band; yes, you'll have to dig deep to find a goth who doesn't ADORE them. The only one I've come across who disliked Depeche Mode liked Soft Cell instead.

Goth IS international! Not just in the sense that there's fans of goth music basically everywhere, but that there's local goth scenes with their own local goth bands everywhere. Outside of the US + Europe + Canada, there's huge goth scenes all over Latin América (our Deathrock and Post-Punk are at times even popular among 1st world goths), and there's also smaller but still present goth scenes in Africa, Asia and Oceania. She Past Away is very much one of THE most popular goth bands in recent years and they're from Turkey.

The goth scene has always been in friendly terms with the LGBT community. Not only are many of our biggest icons LGBT themselves (the whole band Specimen, AVC from Sopor Aeternus, both members of Diavol Strâin, the vocalist from Male Tears, Cinnamon Hadley, and many more) but plenty of cishet goths (especially the men) embrace gender non-conformity and/or androgyny. In most local scenes, goth club nights are held at gay bars/nightclubs, as they don't tend to have privately owned venues. And either way, at any goth night there'll be tons of gay and gender non-conforming goths no matter where they're held. To varying degrees depending on the locality of the scene, gay and bi people are completely normalized in the goth subculture, and gender non-conformity and androgyny aren't just encouraged, but praised and coveted.

There's goths of any religion you can think of, but Neo Pagans are somewhat over-represented in our community compared to the rest of larger society (for better or worse). Funnily enough, very few goths are actually Satanists of any sort. I'd say the numbers go more or less similar to our local non-goth peers. In the West and westernized countries I'd say it goes; majority culturally-Christian atheist or agnostic goths (usually not militant about it), a few practicing Christians of whichever denomination (usually whichever is dominant in the country they inhabit), the rare but entirely plausible Jewish, Muslim or Buddhist goth, and a bunch of Neo-Pagans. Probably one (1) or two (2) actual Satanist goths per state/province/etc, tops.

World Goth Day is celebrated every year on May 22nd.

"Mallgoth" isn't a type of goth in either a musical or fashion sense. I made another TikTok about it, but in summary; it was originally hurled as an insult towards a very specific type of poser; the American kids in the late 90s and early 00s who imitated how goths dressed and called themselves goths while only listening to Nu Metal and maybe the most mainstream Industrial Metal. They tended to congregate at malls and behave particularly obnoxious to everyone there, further ruining our already delicate image (especially at that time).

Cybergoths aren't really goths either. Their music scene is centered around EBM, which is basically slightly darker and slightly more aggressive raver music that may or may not have Industrial influences. And to be honest they behaved like a rapacious invasive species in goth club nights to the point that they almost decimated the actual goth scene and it took us a while to recover from that.

Goths are sometimes perceived as too self-serious but honestly? We love making fun of ourselves and we tend to have a very silly or dry sense of humor. We're just tired of the same cheap and inaccurate jokes made by people who don't know anything about us. The best jokes about goths will often come from goths ourselves; you can only properly make fun of something you understand well! The few times outsiders get it right though? (Sad to confirm that the South Park goth kids are hilarious and I wish they were in a better show) You'll see goths sharing the SHIT out of it, such as me being obsessed with the goths from Ridonculous Race, or the clip below:

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#goth music #music #goth #gothic #gothgoth #goth subculture #trad goth #gothic rock #post punk #darkwave #ethereal wave #Spotify #goth 101

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antimony-medusa · 7 months

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Gonna be honest with you though if someone outright says “don’t ship my character with other people” or something to that extent regarding smut or whatever I don’t think there should be any ambiguity

I get your point about the nature of fanfic being inherently encroaching upon people’s images so that levity should be extended to otherwise uncommon avenues but I really believe hardline boundaries should be respected, end of, no discussion. If I see people violating creators’ boundaries for their characters Or themselves (and these can be intertwined, it’s not up to the audience to pick apart their boundaries, cuz I’ve seen people try to do that) I’m not going to judge them fairly and I feel like neither should you.

Lines can be crossed and intimacy (not even necessarily romantic!) is a very different monster than the other avenues of storytelling because of how it involves real life relationships seeping into character relationships. Its’s uncommon for people to be like “I wrote A’s character being tortured because I feel like A is tortured in real life” but they Can and Often do that with ship work. So I don’t know, I feel like you’re not affording this the right nuance.

Alright, so, this is another post I'm gonna slap with a discourse and long post warning right away, buckle in.

Yeah, I hear what you're saying, and this is not an uncommon opinion to have! It's still the opinion of twitter/x so far as I know, and I think it's probably the opinion of the bulk of dsmp fans here, as well. I know my posts get notes once they start circulating in hermitblr, but I don't kid myself that I have the majority view. I am posting to explain my views expressly because I know a lot of people don't agree with me!

And in this case we do have a difference of opinion. There's two sort of points as I see it in your posts— we have hardline boundaries about shipping/nsfw from some people, and everyone in the fandom should be abiding by those no exceptions or be thrown out of the fandom; and we have shipping boundaries but not boundaries for other things because shipping is uniquely boundary-crossing and terrible and invasive, in contrast to anything else we can do in fandom.

Taking the second part first, I just don't think that's true. Let's not forget, boundaries discourse started with SMPLive and SMPronpa, and it was not the shipping that caused the discussion, it was the death games. The first real fandom reckoning we had with the notion of boundaries as mcyt fandom was over gore and murder and portraying people in violent ways. Shipping was barely a blip on the radar. The way the discourse has developed now, shipping is framed as the absolute worst thing anyone could ever do with your public image, and everything else is fine, but that is not the case for everyone. Recently the Pirates SMP creators were asked repeatedly for their boundaries (bothered on twitter, really) until they gave them and thus we saw people being fine with shipping but not wanting family dynamic, or being against both shipping and gore, or being fine with shipping but not wanting to be gender bent or trans headcanoned, etc. Not everyone feels the same way about the same things, despite the us-american cultural viewpoint that romance and sexualization is uniquely bad but gore and torture is fine, that everything else is fine.

Like, if we're looking at DSMP, I think there are a lot of creators who would feel just as strongly if not stronger about fics in which their character died of a terminal illness than they would about a fic in which they kiss someone, for understandable reasons. But I see those tropes in the tags regularly!

I think if we are honest with ourselves, if we are going to hardline boundaries about things that are uniquely invasive or bad to do to a creator's character with the view that we are putting all of this up for the creator's approval, we need to accept that this excludes us from writing anything where a character is abusive or is tortured or dies of a terminal illness or is psychologically broken or is age regressed or is neurodivergent or is queer if the cc is straight or trans if the cc is cis or cis if the cc is trans or straight if they're gay— the list of things that would be weird to do in the face of the real guy is really long. And it has most of our favourite tropes on it!

I love writing autistic philza. It would be really fuckin' weird to go up to Philza and tell him about how I write his character as whumped and autistic. Come on now. (But that's within boundaries, so that's— fine? I really don't think it's fine!)

Which is why my stance is that we should be thinking critically about these things, and keeping the fandom seperate from the creators. Some of these things are just not for the creators. They're fine but they shouldn't go on twitter. Y'know?

The idea that shipping draws uniquely on the real person and leads to invasive behaviour but nothing else does— that nobody does "I wrote A being tortured because I think A is tortured in real life"— Look. I have been in the fandom a long time. I remember how all the abused tommy narratives fed right into people assuming his family in real life were abusive— and talking about this on twitter! Where he and his family could see! People did this with WIlbur and Techno too!

I remember people reading about trans tommy and then truthing that the creator either was transmasc or was going to come out as transfemme any day now, publically, on twitter and in his chat. I have seen people she/her tubbo to his face on twitter, with fancams. I have been in chat when people who have clearly assigned Phil "dad" start asking WILDLY invasive things in TTS. If you think that shipping is the only fandom behaviour that can lead to people drawing directly from the streamers for their work and treating the creators weirdly about it, you simply have not been paying attention.

The way the fandom insists on treating benchtrio as children despite the fact that they're almost twenty and viciously attacking their friends for treating them as adults and chiding tommy and tubbo and ranboo for inappropriate behaviour. The list goes ON.

So. The recieved DSMP wisdom is that we should TTS the streamers to check if it's okay if we write a fic in which they die of cancer. We should DM them on instagram to ask if it's okay if we write them as a gender or sexual identity they don't share. We should show up in their twitter mentions to ask if it's okay if we write them as a physically abusive parent.

No????????

My view on that is that it is frankly bizzare it is that we have decided that "asking creators for detailed instructions regarding porn or gore" (especially in TTS! When they're fucking at WORK and can't step away! Stop doing this to the hermits!) is normal and fine and responsible but "post your shit in appropriate places and leave the creators out of it" will make you a monster.

Once again, the experience of someone coming up and saying "i think of you as age regressed" and someone saying "i found this fic where you're age regressed" and someone saying "can I write a fic where you're age regressed" is not that different. In all cases you know that the person has been thinking about it and putting it out there, and in all cases you didnt seek out this information, it was brought to you. In all cases it's weird. Just do not bring this information up to them!

If you just think about it for a while, you see that there is an entire host of things that would be weird to force into the view of a creator, especially when you consider that half the time we got these clips from TTS information when we have no idea if the person answering knew the context of what they were being asked, if they were specifically aware of the creator/cc divide that the fandom works with, or if they felt pressured into it. Oh yeah, let's take a TTS clip from Tubbo when it was 2 in the morning for him and he was deep in a minecraft mod when someone asked him about alters and delusions and he was like "oh you mean like— when they can't help it? I guess that's fine." That definately counts as freely given, reversible, informed, enthusiastic and specific consent to show him anything we want at all times forever. That's never going to make him uncomfortable.

Think a little here.

So I think there's a lot of the fandom that we should not be putting up for the approval of the creators, and if we don't have a firm answer on if they would like potential edge cases, we should probably be thinking about it and keeping it away from them (and I would err on the side of caution), we should NOT be showing up in the TTS to ask them about narratives in which they're institutionalized, or making them a GOP conservative in fiction, or if Wilbur was canon about seeing them as a bottom, or whatever bizzare thing someone is cooking up now. Honestly if you think to yourself "I don't know if the creator would like seeing this", I would be much more comfortable if the two choices we were picking between there were "simply don't write it" or "write it but keep it away from them", and "harass the creator for an answer on this subject and only write it if they say yes" never entered the equation at all.

And to return to your first point, if we already have a class of fiction that we are keeping away from the creators because basic intellectual curiosity would show that it would be weird to show someone, I don't think it's the end of the world to go "okay, creator doesn't like NSFW, so we also keep the NSFW away from them, keep this shit off twitter, block them if you create it, don't show it to them" and then we archive lock it and continue on our little weirdo on the internet ways.

Now, I don't expect to convince you of this, the phrasing of your post does not indicate that you're open to discussion on this topic. That's fine. Nobody has to agree with me. But I grew up conservative christian, and I have already had people try and get me to throw people out of the community for their perceived sins where I was like "well, I really don't think this is that bad", and I'm really resistant to being forced to do that again. I don't think it's a healthy way to run a fandom, to be shunning people for what they're doing in fiction. Harassing creators in chat? Sure, I will block them from my events as untrustworthy. That's hurting someone in the real world. Writing something that I don't vibe with privately on the archive for an audience of 50 people? That is not doing harm to real people. As long as they're not showing it to the creators, I don't count that as offensive.

How's that for nuance.

#discourse #fandom meta #dsmp shipping #qsmp shipping #anon #ask #long post

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

Text

the finer things in life // LTPF

summary: coryo merely tolerates you at the beginning of the series. this, is why.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. underage drinking/drug use (its just weed dw), some suggestive content that's not explicit (that's a first for me woah).

a/n: THIS DROPS SOME MAJOR LORE FOR THIS SERIES LIKE PLS- this is so fun and i hope you guys really like it bc i stepped out of my comfort zone a bit here. anyway, happy new year!! as a treat, have r and coryo getting way too messed up for their own good :)

this is mentioned in one of the parts of s2 (oh god i have no clue which one but trust me.) anyway, here's the night they were talking about.

series masterlist // playlist

"Hey, Coryo." You smile, sitting yourself down across from him at the lunch table.

"Y/N/N." He nods, hardly looking up from his food.

"So," You him, leaning forward with your elbows on either side of your plate. "Are you coming to Livia's big party this weekend?"

He shrugs, swallowing before looking up at you. "I don't know. Maybe. Feels a little... trivial."

"Ugh," You scoff, playfully rolling your eyes. "Of course it's trivial, Coriolanus. It's a birthday party for a seventeen year old that's probably going to have fireworks and a four tier wedding cake." You laugh. "But I have to go, so you should too."

He smiles at you a little, tilting his head with a raised eyebrow. "A wedding cake?"

"Probably. You saw the invitations." You chuckle. "We can walk together, and I'll see if I can sneak in some posca from our cellar. Please?" You plead.

"Won't your parents be driving you? I wouldn't want to impose." Coryo insists politely.

"Oh, god, no." You laugh. "They're allegedly busy. My father will be working, and my mother will be waiting for him to finish work. Can't tear her away from that. My theory is that they just don't want to go."

"Oh, I see." He replies. Your parents not attending social events wasn't uncommon. Their attention was notoriously hard to attract, and his parents had long since passed, so it was pretty standard for the two of you to either walk together or get your driver to take the two of you places alone.

"Yeah! I think we'll end up walking because my brother has tutoring and god forbid he walk anywhere, but that way there's no dreadful small talk with my family anyway."

"Fine." Coryo agrees. "Only because it's you. Also, I don't think talking to your parents is dreadful, Y/N/N."

"It is. Don't lie." You laugh, taking a bite out of your cookie and waving him off.

You hear the doorbell and run to answer it before anyone else can. "Mom! Coryo's here, I'm leaving now! Bye!"

"You're not going to invite him in?" Your mom asks, cutting you off in the foyer.

"We're already running late, sorry!" You insist, adjusting your hold on the two gift bags in your hands very carefully.

"Alright, well, have fun, dear. Extend our apologies to Livia's parents for us."

"Will do!" You nod, giving her a quick thumbs up before opening the door.

"What do you need a bag for?" She asks and you roll your eyes at your friend standing in front of you before turning to face her again.

"They have a pool, I might need to change." You groan.

"Oh, right." She seems satisfied with that answer. "Hello, Coriolanus, how are you doing tonight?" She asks, turning her attention to him.

"I'm well, Ma'am. Thank you. And you?" He smiles politely.

"We gotta go, Mom, bye!" You shut the door before she can answer.

As soon as you're out of sight from your house, you stop and dig through the tissue paper in one of the gift bags.

"Isn't that for Liv-" Coryo's question is cut off by you holding a bottle of a nondescript liquor out to him.

"This one is for us." You smile, taking another bottle out before shoving the folded-up gift bag into your backpack. "Cheers." You twist the cap off of yours, knocking it against the one he's awkwardly holding before taking a swig.

"Posca? Should we..." He clears his throat. "Should we really be drinking? I feel like we'll get in trouble."

"It's not Posca, it's better. Besides, no trouble if no one knows." You reassure him. "Also, I would bet money that we show up and Festus and Pup are already stumbling."

"You're the most terrible influence, Y/L/N." Coryo shakes his head with a smile on his face, opening the bottle anyway to try it.

"No!" You laugh. "This is good for us. It makes me more... digestible to these stuck-ups."

"Are you not included in that group?"

"Oh, Coriolanus Snow, we are at the top of the list."

The air in the expansive house is as hot and stuffy as it could possibly be. It reminded you so much of your own, but warmer, in a way. Maybe it was just the sheer volume of people inside and the buzz of alcohol in your system.

Livia's parents had been kind enough to leave the whole back garden and pool for you kids to enjoy, and to have your own space free from all of the adults who were also invited.

It was warm out for a May evening when you finally made it outside after saying your 'hello's to all your classmates' parents. Your own parents insisted that you spend a decent amount of time doing so, despite them not being able to make it. Coryo was known to do this as well, so you made your rounds together before thanking the Cardew's for the invitations and they showed you where all the other kids were outside.

Coryo already wanted to leave, and if you did as well, you were good at hiding it. He couldn't tell, blindly following you through the crowded house before making it outside.

"Party's here!" You call out as you step out onto the patio, allowing Coryo to close the door behind you.

"Y/N, you gorgeous girl, finally!" You're quickly greeted by Hilarius Heavensbee, and god, Coryo has never hated him more as the boy is wrapping his arms around you. His attempts at flirting with you are humiliating- Coriolanus doesn't know how he couldn't see that he was embarrassing himself.

"Hilary, you flatter me." You chuckle, gently patting his back with your free hand as you pull away.

"You know I try." He laughs, shrugging as he slides in between the two of you, draping an arm over your shoulder.

"Where's the birthday girl?" You ask, holding up the gift bag. "I need to ditch this."

"That's a good question..." Your classmate says, scanning the groups scattered across the lawn in search of Livia.

"I can carry that, if you'd like." Coryo offers, desperate to remind you of his presence. He wasn't going to let you ditch him- you were the only reason he even attended.

"Oh, no. I've got it. Thank you, though." You wave him off, looking up at the boy whose arm is sitting over your shoulder uncomfortably. "Hilary, could you grab Coryo and I some glasses, please?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He says, stepping away. "What do you want?"

"Oh, just the glasses please. We brought our own drinks." You wink.

"Alright, but only if you share." He chuckles.

"I'm nothing if not generous." You joke, pushing him in the direction of where you see the beverage table is set up.

"His share is coming out of your bottle." Coryo says once the boy is out of earshot.

"Who do you think I am?" You ask, placing the giftbag on the ground and grabbing your bag off your shoulder, digging through the fabric you used to muffle the sounds of glass bottles rattling against one another. "I brought enough for the class."

"Of course you did." He chuckles, shaking his head slightly as you carefully pull another bottle out of the bag. "Be a doll, go dump this in the punch?" You smile up at him, holding it out to him expectantly.

"No! I'm not spiking anything." He laughs.

"Suit yourself, Boryo Coryo." You sigh with a teasing smile, placing your bags on the ground and walking over to the table at the side of the house, unscrewing the cap as you go.

"Where'd Y/N/N go?" Hilarius asks, returning to Coryo's side. He just nods over to you in response, not tearing his gaze away from your form as you dump the contents of the bottle into the bowl.

"Ah, gotcha." Your classmate laughs, holding an empty glass out for Coryo to take.

Coryo mutters a quiet 'thanks', refocusing himself on inspecting the glass in his hand for any dirt or fingerprints. It was spotless- of course it was.

"So, are you guys like... together? Or what's the deal?"

"Pardon?" Coryo is taken aback by the question, finally looking up at the boy.

"You and Y/N." He gestures toward you as you stir the bowl, simultaneously holding the mostly empty bottle up to your lips to let the last few drops fall onto your tongue. "You're always hovering around each other. Anything more to it? Everyone is wondering, but no one dares ask her."

"Oh. No." Coryo shakes his head, wishing his glass was full of whatever bitter alcohol you'd gifted him so he could down it all in one go.

"Sweet." Hilarius grins to himself, watching you intently.

Coryo raises an eyebrow at Hilarius, perplexed by his reaction. "What's so sweet about it?" he asks, trying to understand the amused grin on Hilarius' face.

Hilarius chuckles, leaning in slightly as if about to share a secret. "If you're not gonna go for her, I will."

Coryo's cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "Be my guest." He spits through gritted teeth. He should have drank more- perhaps it would have made Hilarius's juvenile pursuits more tolerable.

Hilarius nudges him playfully, "Life's too short for missed opportunities, if you ask me." He looks back at you again, not so subtly raking his eyes over your figure and how it fits in your favourite party dress. "And that would be a damn shame of a missed opportunity."

Coryo glances over at you, catching your eye for a brief moment before quickly looking away. He clears his throat awkwardly. "If you say so. I find she's quite... overwhelming, at times."

"That's the best thing about her." Hilarius muses. "Just imagine it... You know what I mean? I bet she's just crazy. In a really good way."

Coryo's brow furrows at the implication, both from offense and intrigue. He knew you were stunning- even a fool could have told him that, but it was to make a mockery of your name to only look at you and see merely the potential of what you could do with your body. To him, you were like morning rain in the springtime; a breath of fresh air when you didn't have to defend yourself at every turn, but Hilarius Heavensbee didn't know the first thing about walking in the rain.

"Don't be vile." Coryo scoffs, giving a slight shake of his head.

As you finish up with the concoction in the bowl, Coryo watches you with a newfound awareness, a subtle curiosity lingering behind his stare.What would it be like? It's not something he has ever considered, or even had the time or desire to look at anyone that way. Especially not you, you were so personal to him it was off limits even in his own head. He didn't understand the seemingly overnight shift a couple years ago now where all the boys in your class started looking at you and the other girls like pieces of meat, but suddenly watching you lick clean the spoon you used to stir the punch, he could see that maybe they had a point. What it would be like to hear you panting into his ear. Tired, loving, even, like he was the only man in the world who could make you feel so, so good. To have your deep red lipstick staining his skin, his shoulders, his neck, possibly lower. The idea of having to explain the stains on the inside of his shirt to Tigris when he pleads with her to somehow get them out has his heartbeat racing... Likely, though, it was just the liquor starting to settle in his veins, is what he decided as he adjusted the front of his dress pants.

Hilarius chuckles at Coryo's reaction, seemingly unfazed by his disapproval. "Relax, man. I'm just saying, life's too short not to appreciate the whole package. Y/N's got the brains, the looks, and that fiery spirit. It's like having your cake and eating it too."

Coryo arches an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I appreciate her for more than just appearances, you know."

Hilarius smirks knowingly. "Of course, of course. I'm just speaking from a purely hypothetical standpoint. No harm in imagining what could be."

Coryo shoots him a skeptical glance, but before he can respond, you join them, empty bottle in hand. "What's the topic?" you ask, catching the tail end of their conversation.

Hilarius grins, shrugging. "Oh, just discussing the finer things in life. You know, like cake."

You raise an eyebrow, sharing a confused glance with Coryo. "Cake? Really? Are we eight?"

Coryo rolls his eyes. "Apparently, it's a metaphor for appreciating the whole package."

You raise an eyebrow, but neither of them care to elaborate. "Well, I hope you both appreciate this 'whole package' of a potion I just whipped up. It should be interesting." You nod back toward the table, taking one of the glasses from your classmate to pour the remainder of your bottle out for the three of you.

By the time your unknowing classmates started to loosen up, you were sitting in a circle in a corner of the yard with a few others.

"I have a present for everyone." You state in a pause of conversation, and Coryo watches as you reach into the front of your dress, into your bra, and pull out a small paper bag.

"Uhm- what is that?" Clemensia asks, leaning back as if the bag would explode.

"Weed!" You laugh, looking around at the suddenly silent group of kids you're sitting with as you peel the bag open, the smell wafting through the air making some of your friends scrunch up their noses in disgust. "Oh my god- have none of you ever seen weed before?" You knew they hadn't, you hadn't really, either, but it was fun to tease them.

They all share confused and embarrassed glances. "Guys, come on..." You chuckle.

"I don't think we should..." Festus mumbles, clearing his throat. Of course he was going to be a baby about it.

"It's harmless! It's a plant, how much could something that grows out of the ground really hurt you?"

"Have you ever heard of poison ivy? Or that stuff poor people in the Districts burn to clean their houses or whatever?" Arachne spits, side-eying the bag on the ground.

"Sage isn't poisonous." Sejanus grumbles, hardly audible next to you.

"Okay, yes, but this is just weed. It's fun. Trust me." You plead, looking around at your friends, eyes locking on Coryo to your left.

"Okay, big shot, have you done it?" Clemensia asks, clearly already knowing the answer.

"Well... No, but there's a first time for everything, isn't there?" You smile. "Coryo, come on." You point him out in particular and he curses himself because he knows he can't say no to you.

"Okay... what do we do with it?" He questions quietly.

You squeal, the alcohol really showing as you lean into him, hugging him excitedly. "That's my boy! We smoke it."

"Alright, how?" Hilarius cuts in, forcing you to look at him instead of Coryo as you furrow your brow.

"Uh... that's a good question. I brought matches, though."

Sejanus sighs. "Anyone have an apple?" he speaks drawing everyone's attention, confused looks now focused on him.

"An apple?" Someone inquires about specifics, but you're busy making yourself comfortable closer to Coryo, leaning your head on his shoulder. When he realizes you're there to stay, he quickly reaches for the bottle at his side to take another swig. He's far too sober to have you all over him like this, he wonders if you could feel his heartbeat the way he could.

"To make a pipe." Sejanus explains, like it's obvious.

You smile, nodding at him. "You heard the boy- someone find him an apple!"

"And a pen." He adds.

"And a pen!"

It doesn't take long for the supplies to be acquired and passed over to him as you sit in a circle on the grass, watching Sejanus carefully as he uses the pen to dig into the core of the apple. You wanted to remember how, but the alcohol in your system was making it difficult to focus. You had to completely block out anything else happening around you.

"Y/N." You blink at your friend as he drops the pen into his lap, holding his free hand out to you.

"Huh?"

"The weed." He shakes his hand for you to pass him the bag.

"Oh! Right!" You giggle, reaching out for the bag and handing it to him as he pries it open.

"What are you doing?" Livia's voice comes from above you and you swivel your head, quickly getting dizzy from the movement.

"Y/N brought weed." Hilarius answers for him, smiling wide. "Isn't she just the coolest?"

Coryo stares at him, moving his arm tighter around your oblivious form so your classmates could better see his hold on you.

"I- um..." The birthday girl is caught off guard, and quickly looks over her shoulder up at the house. "Can you not do that here? Take it to the park across the street."

"Oh- Oh! Of course, yes." You nod, scrambling to get up, immediately pulling her into a hug. "I should have asked, I'm sorry." You slur, not noticing how tense she is under your hold.

"Are you... drunk?"

"Maybe." You giggle, holding a finger to your lips as you pull away. "Happy birthday, by the way! I brought a gift for you, 'is over there." You point over to the table you placed the bag under, swaying slightly.

"Yeah... I already opened it, remember?"

"Oh, shit. Right! Well, I hope you like it, Liv. You're just the best..." You hum, hugging her again as she gives a panicked look to your classmates behind you, who just laugh.

"Alright, let's get you out of here. We're gonna go to the park, okay Y/N/N?" Coryo says, prying you off of Livia and giving her an apologetic look.

"Right!" You giggle, turning so fast you almost lose your balance. "Who's coming?"

"I'll come." Hilarius nods, quickly getting up alongside Sejanus, but no one else moves or says a word.

"You guys are babies!" You laugh.

"And Y/N is a drunk at sixteen. We all have flaws." Persephone speaks up, smug smile on her face as she walks up behind Livia.

Immediately, Coryo is bracing you from swinging at her as your smile drops within an instant and you try and throw yourself at her, manicured hands open and grasping for her hair which you just miss as he holds you back.

"Yeah, that's enough." Coryo grunts, trying to hold you back without hurting you. "We should probably go."

"Coryo, let me go, she-" You hiss, trying to pry him off of you. You didn't know when he got so much bigger or stronger than you.

"Like I said, a drunk." Persephone chuckles, chewing every syllable as it comes out of her mouth.

"That's precious coming from a damn cannibal!" You spit, still trying to get through him as your classmate stares at you in shock. "Yeah- did you even know what your parents were feeding you? 'Cause I do! You probably liked it, you vulture!"

Hilarius holds back a laugh, coming up behind you and pulling you back, taking you from Coryo's grip and hoisting you up over his shoulder to carry you away as you hit at his back, screaming to be let down.

"That's our cue." Sejanus mutters, patting Coryo's shoulder and brushing past him to follow after you and your friend. "Thanks for having us, Livia!"

Coryo is fuming as he watches your classmate carry you away, but he still really can't pinpoint why. It must be the amount of alcohol- he's never drank this much before, but he has heard anger is a symptom. He's seen it in your father. Now, he's seen it in you; but it's not like that kind of outburst was abnormal coming from you. He's probably mad at Persephone for bringing that out of you. It's her fault, honestly.

He silently grabs your backpack and your bottles, half-hazardly throwing them in before swinging it over his shoulder and following after Sejanus without another word.

"So," Arachne states once he's out of earshot, taking a sip out of her glass as she remains on the ground. "Are we betting on Heavensbee or Snow to lose their virginity to her tonight?"

The group very quickly became a hung jury.

"Listen, I know the truth, okay, guys, hear me out." Clemensia speaks up over her arguing classmates. "Tonight, specifically, it'll be Hilarius." She holds her hand up to stop anyone who started arguing. "Coriolanus will probably wait until they're married or something, but trust me when I tell you that he will marry her."

"Marry her? We're sixteen, aren't you getting ahead of yourself, Clemmie?" Festus laughs, shaking his head.

"Obviously he doesn't know it yet, he's denser than over stirred cake batter, but he just follows her around like a lost puppy. That will never change, also, he's the only one that she's never had a problem with! And she'll fight with anyone!" Clemensia states, nodding with the finality of her statement. "That's all I have to say."

"Wait, you're telling me Coriolanus and Y/N aren't together?" Pup asks, just joining the conversation after sitting there confused for the last few minutes.

"My point exactly."

"Sejanus, you wizard, show us the ways." You giggle, plopping down on the ground where Hilarius carefully let you back onto your feet once you reached the park, previous argument completely forgotten.

"Okay." He laughs, sitting down next to you. "There's three holes in the apple. You hold it on the side like this, then you put the weed on the very top hole..." He explains as he's doing it, and you watch intently. "Then you hold the match up until it's burning, and you'll put your thumb over this hole here once you inhale it through the last one..." His voice trails off as he holds the apple up to your lips, doing all the work but letting you just breathe in the smoke.

You try, eyes closed as the three boys watch you until you pull away quickly to cough it all out as the smoke burned into your throat. "Oh my god..." You laugh, eyes watering as you continue to cough. "Your turn."

"You okay?" Hilarius asks with a slight chuckle, rubbing gentle circles into your back.

"Fine." You nod, quickly wiping your eyes.

"Here." Sejanus holds the apple out to the boy next to you. He takes it, and Coryo feels like he can finally breathe now that Hilarius doesn't have his hands on you.

"Where'd you learn this?" He asks Sejanus, ignoring your classmate following the same routine you did.

"Guess." Sejanus answers, looking over at him. "I don't smoke, but lots of my friends parents did. Back in Two."

"Right." The fact that they smoked around children didn't shock Coryo. Not one bit.

"Coryo, loosen up, man, you look like you're sitting with a stick up your ass." Hilarius offers it to him now, and he looks over at you. As if somehow you would tell him what to say.

"Try it!" You urge him on, shifting over so you're kneeling in front of him, taking the apple from Hilarius for him. "I'll light for you."

"Uh, okay, yeah." He swallows thickly, subconsciously leaning back a little bit at your closer proximity.

He takes the fruit from your hand, watching as your strike up a new match. "Tell me when you're ready..." You hum, moving even closer as he lifts the apple to his lips.

"Ready." He says quietly, and before you put the flames to the flowers, you're reaching up with your other hand to push his hair out of his face and hold it back for him so it doesn't somehow light.

He doesn't last long, looking into your eyes and trying to inhale the thick, abrasive smoke; it's only a second before he's pulling back quickly, coughing his lungs out as the other two boys laugh at him.

"It takes some getting used to, that's okay..." You smile, taking another hit while the flower was still burning.

You exhale, and it's smoother this time. "I did it!" You grin, choking only slightly over your words.

"Good job, Y/N/N." Sejanus laughs.

"You okay?" You ask Coryo and he nods, recovering from the coughing fit now as the weed really starts to take affect in your system.

You feel like your world is swaying as you kneel in front of him. "Did it work? Can you feel it?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"It's the second hit." You determine, feeling bold as you straddle yourself over his lap. "I've got an idea. Do you trust me?" You whisper and he nods quickly, leaning back on his palms. Once again, not nearly drunk enough for this.

"Yeah, you know what, I've gotta get back. My parents are heading out pretty quick, here..." Hilarius makes an excuse, but you can hardly even hear him now. "Sejanus, you coming?"

Clearly getting the message he nods, standing up and dusting off his pants. "Have fun, you two. Get home safe."

"Bye!" You giggle, waving to them with your free hand.

The silence that surrounds you is deafening, particularly for poor Coryo, who is fighting for his life to not move. Not that he doesn't want you this close, apparently he does; if his body and his mind racing with thoughts are any indicator, the biggest problem is that he wants to touch you. He knows he shouldn't.

"I've got an idea." You say again, attention returned to him. "But you have to trust me."

"I trust you." He mumbles with a slight nod.

"Good." You smile, taking yet another pull from the apple, holding it carefully the way Sejanus told you to.

You painfully hold your breath, feeling the drug cloud your mind as you put it down gently on the ground next to you. Coryo starts to panic as you lean in closer, closer than you've ever been to him before, and god, did he hate and love where this was going.

You stop, lips brushing against his as you let the smoke out of your lungs, and all he has to do is breathe. Why is that suddenly so hard? He manages, somehow, feeling the smoke from your lungs flood into his own.

Once you move back, settling yourself on his lap and tilting your head at him, he turns to breathe it all out away from you. He doesn't know if he can look back.

You smile, settling your arms around his neck and subconsciously playing with the ends of his hair. "How does it feel?"

"Good." He says quietly, finally gaining the courage to look up at you.

"Good?" You hum with a slight nod, letting yourself get closer to him again as he rests a hand on your waist.

"Really good." He confirms, looking into your eyes; glazed over from the substances you so carelessly consume. "Y/N/N?"

"Yes, my dear Coryo?" You answer, already getting giggly.

He doesn't say anything more.

Fuck it.

With his free hand he's grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you closer, crashing his lips against yours.

"Y/N, hey." Coryo greets you, catching up to you just as you get to the front doors of the academy. He hasn't seen you since Saturday night- since he walked you home after you spent nearly an hour kissing him absolutely senseless at the park across from Livia's home. He couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Coryo, hi." You smile, textbooks tucked into your arms as you join him walking into the front doors of the academy on Monday morning. "How are you feeling?"

"Me? Fine." He shrugs, failing to mention the crippling hangover he was nursing for all of the day prior.

"What?" You laugh, sighing with fake disappointment. "That's not fair. I was dying yesterday. Literally, when I woke up I thought I had died and gone to hell. I don't even remember how I got home."

"You don't?" He chuckles nervously.

"No. I don't remember a thing." You laugh. "That's how you know it was a good night, so I've heard."

"Really? Nothing at all?" He asks, nervousness and disappointment flashing behind his eyes.

"Well, I remember spiking the punch." You laugh. "Why, did I do something bad?" Your laugh is replaced with anxiety as your voice lowers so only he can hear, catching the look in his eye.

Coryo clears his throat, avoiding your gaze as he shakes his head. "No, well... You did call Persephone a cannibal. Tried to fight her."

"Oh, well, that's standard." You shrug. "No big deal, then."

"Yeah. No big deal."

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snippychicke · 1 month

Text

Poppy Seeds --Part Two

Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy.

Dogday/Player!reader (attempting keeping it gender neutral)

Warnings: will touch on the after effects of trauma, but nothing is super explicit. Maybe some unhealthy coping skills (Dogday holding Reader on a pedestal) But otherwise we're giving everyone a happy ending. (Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts)

@twistedcece wanted tagged, anyone else?

Four: Water

It did end up raining later that afternoon. You had found Ollie a fresh change of clothes and had been showing the four around the farm. Thankfully, the day was warm enough that the cold droplets weren’t going to chill anyone too much, though Ollie squeaked as soon as the first droplet hit him.

It was just a light spring shower, but it was still tricky to convince Ollie to come out from the chicken coop he had taken shelter in. It wasn’t until you decided to join the others that he slowly peeked out, sunken eyes wide.

Kissy was twirling in the middle of the drive, her arms spread wide and her smile bright as ever. Poppy had her own arms outstretched, her face tilted up against the tickling drops and a smile on her eternally-painted lips. Dogday was brightly laughing as he pulled you out from the sheltered area to where several puddles were quickly forming.

Seeing you and Dogday stomping in the water looked far too fun for the boy to ignore, and soon he was brave enough to leave his place of safety (to the relief of the hens not used to the small child in their home). IT took him a moment to get used to the constant patter on his skin, but both you and Dogday were becoming him closer with open hands.

Laughter soon echoed in the air as the three of you would stomp from puddle to puddle. Kissy and Poppy didn’t join in --both not fond of getting muddy-- but enjoyed watching the three of you, two acting like overgrown kids and one finally able to act his age.

Things seemed perfect.

---

Later, Kissy and Poppy had corralled Ollie into the upstairs bathroom for a ‘proper’ bath. Judging from the splashing and outraged squeals from Poppy, the boy was still enjoying the new lease on childhood… or maybe Kissy had decided to join in the impishness. You weren’t sure, and was more focused on Dogday anyways.

Your bedroom had its own bathroom, complete with an old large clawfoot tub that Dogday was able to sit in, though it was a tight fit. So you had taken it upon yourself to grab a basin and a few washcloths to scrub his back that was still coated in sticky things you rather not think about while he handled the rest.

“I wish I could have done better on these stitches,” you offered as you gently cleaned around the sloppy uneven stitches where you had sewn his bottom half back on. The thread you had been able to find was a bright neon green and easy to see against his tan hair, and the ‘hide’ of his top half flapped over a bit of his bottom half since you had no idea how else to stitch the pieces together. Sewing has never been your forte.

You swore magic had to be involved, considering that a simple sewing together and undoing the tourniquet had somehow ‘healed’ the connection and he could feel and control his lower body once more.

“They’re fine,” Dogday reassured, currently scrubbing a stubborn stain on his arm. “The fact you were able to fix me in the first place is a miracle in itself, angel.”

“I know,” you whined, unable to stop glaring at the poor stitchwork. “But it’s green. And all wonky…”

He paused to look down at the stitching, a fond expression on his face (though you couldn’t see it.) “I like it that way. It’s a visual reminder of how much you cared.”

Your heart thumped at his words, and you bit your lip. It had been an act of desperation… but he wasn’t wrong. You had cared-- you had been terrified that you would do something to hurt him. To cause him to die no matter what you did. You wanted to save him-- to be able to save someone.

The memory threatened to overwhelm you, and you dropped your washcloth so you could wrap your arm around his shoulders, uncaring that you were getting your clothes wet by hugging him.

You had been so close to losing him. Close to losing your own life. Failing everyone yet again after you had failed years prior.

“Angel?” Dogday managed to shift, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, cradled against his body as you cried. “What is it?”

“I-I-” you stuttered, clenching your eyes as if you could push those memories out of your mind. Not just of him, but of everything. It was like a crack had formed and everything you had stubbornly ignored came rushing in.

“Oh Angel,” he sighed as if he understood, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart. It's okay.”

“How can you call me that?” You choked out. “I-I left all of you, ten years ago. I saw what they were doing and I ran away.”

“You were little more than a child yourself,” was not the answer you were expecting. As if he remembered just like Mommy Longlegs had. “Probably a bright-eyed intern or something, am I right?”

You weakly nodded your head. You had been so excited when your application had been accepted. Everyone was hushed about the project, but they were looking for brilliant minds to help lead the future. You had been chosen out of hundreds of others. You had signed so many non-disclosure and other legal papers you thought it was weird for a toy factory but dismissed it as corporate paranoia.

You didn't realize why until you stumbled upon that first file. Realized the toys looking after the kids weren't advanced animatronics. You hadn't discovered the whole story, but enough to send you running for the hills.

Literally.

You quit everything, and ran away into the woods hoping they would never find you.

“Besides, you came back. And now we're here. Safe.” His thumb wiped at your tears. “Cuddling in a bathtub.”

The last but made you laugh despite yourself and helped bring you back into the moment. You had to admit, it probably looked odd; giant Dogday squished in the tub with you--a full grown adult--more or less cradled in his arms. Both of you now thoroughly wet.

Your laugh made his smile widen faintly. “There we go. I know we'll all have hard days, but as long as we're here for each other, I think we'll get through it.”

Five: Wait

“I won’t be gone long, I promise,” you had said as you climbed into your truck. Without him. Dogday had all but whined at you, unashamed at the puppy-eye expression he gave you. “Day,” you had sighed, leaning out the window to cup his cheek as he leaned down. “I’m sorry, but the back is going to be full when I come back. And besides, who’s going to look after them?”

He should have pointed out that Kissy and Poppy were well able to deal with anything, the two girls were much more capable than they appeared. However, he had quietly conceded and stood back, allowing you to disappear down the steep drive.

That had been early this morning. Nearly five hours ago.

Dogday had barely moved from his spot, waiting to see the sunlight glint off your truck as it climbed the driveway. Or to hear its engine grumble as it approached. What if something happened to you? His sweet angel? He may have been trapped in the factory all those years, but he still knew the outside world could be just as dangerous. Especially to someone sweet and kind as you.

“You’re really whipped, aren’t you?” Poppy spoke as Kissy approached, carrying the smaller doll on her shoulder. “When I said they’d be our angel to come save us, I didn’t think you would take it this far.”

“They saved me,” he answered, his eyes still focused on this distance. He meant more than just his life, when he was strung up like a piece of meat for the miniatures to come feast upon. When he had been so blinded by rage and the need for revenge…

He could still see your eyes through the thick glass of the gasmask, begging him to stop. Your voice as you asked him to spare Catnap’s life because there had been enough death.

“If that doesn’t deserve loyalty, I don’t know what else would.”

“Loyalty. Right.” Poppy sighed, shaking her head. “You sure you’re not suffering from a bad case of puppy-love?”

Dogday paused, his thoughts screeching to a halt at her words. Kissy Missy giggled behind her yellow hand as he struggled with the idea. Puppy love? Certainly not. What he felt wasn’t all warm, fuzzy, yet superficial.

It was deep and all encompassing to the point it almost overwhelmed him sometimes when he looked at you. Whether covered in blood and dust with a look of grisly determination, or freshly showered and wet hair clinging to your face while you laughed, you were his angel. He’d do anything for you.

“Not puppy love… but I do love them.”

Just as the admission left his voice box, he heard the grumble of an engine, and looked down the road to see your old truck making its way up the zig-zagging path, the bed filled with things as you had predicted. His tail slowly started to wag behind him, belying his excitement and joy.

He loved you so much, and he didn’t care if you never felt the same. As long as you let him stay by your side day after day, he’d be happy.

Even if he had to wait sometimes.

Six: Memories

Ollie may have been naive to things you presumed as common knowledge, but when it came to technology, he was a veritable genius. Considering he had to use the old machines to often run and hide from the others in the factory, it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

The scrawny boy was able to help you hook up the various equipment you had brought home with you amongst the tons of groceries. A scanner, an old VHS reader, and an internet router with enough power to accomplish what you wanted.

You hadn’t left the factory empty handed, after all. Dozens of VHS tapes, hundreds of files and loose papers. You had collected every bit of proof you could. And you were going to finish Rowan's work.

“Are you sure about this?” Ollie asked as you popped the first VHS tape to convert into a digital file. “You’re going to be in big trouble if they find out…”

“I should have done this a long time ago,” you said with determination. “Besides, I promised everyone else. They’ve waited long enough.”

Poppy and the others were silent. This had been part of Poppy’s plan all along, after all. Bring the crimes of Playtime Co to light and assure nothing like this happens again.

Yet your hands shook as you scoured for the email address for every news company and journalist you could find. You remembered what Playtime did to Rowan, and while their factory had been decommissioned a decade ago, it was hardly the only one. They were still one of the largest companies on the scene.

Who’s to say that similar things weren’t happening there? More than one had an orphanage on site, after all.

This would certainly be their downfall, and they were bound to come after you if given half the chance. This little piece of heaven that you had these last few days would be stolen away from you…

Dogday leaned on you from behind, lanky arms wrapped around your shoulders while his chin rested on your head. The heavy weight was comfortable, as was the soft scent of vanilla that you had worked back into his fur after his bath the other day.

“Nothing is going to happen to Angel,” he growled softly. “Or any of us. We’ll protect our new home.”

“Our family,” Poppy added quietly, and got a determined nod from Kissy and a cheer from Ollie. You relaxed into Dogday’s embrace, wrapping your fingers around his arms.

--*--

Dogday and Catnap circled each other, growls and snarls echoing in the small chamber. Red Mist filled the air, yet somehow Dogday was still awake. Aware of what was reality and what was a waking nightmare.

Catnap had not expected to see his old friend again after ripping him in half and sacrificing him to the miniatures. All these years and he thought Dogday was with him--with the Prototype-- and only to learn he sided with her. Poppy. And you. The one Dogday called angel.

Dogday finally made the first move, swinging a broken pipe he had been carrying. Normally Catnap could avoid it, but his feet stumbled over the debris hidden in the thick red mist.

“Stop it!” You screamed, voice muffled by your gasmask as you suddenly appeared out of the mist. Dogday nearly slammed the pipe into you, but stopped a hairbreadth away. Catnap was just as stunned as his counterpart as you stood protectively between the two large beings.

“There’s been enough death,” you continued as Dogday lowered his weapon. “I know he hurt you. I know he’s done a lot wrong, but…”

“He doesn’t deserve your mercy, angel,” Dogday growled softly. “None of us do, but especially not him.”

You shook your heads, arms still stretched wide. “Maybe, but I’m tired of all this death. Everyone’s been wronged here. The horrors that you all went through, even before the Hour of Joy. It has to end, and I want it to end now.”

You protected him. Stood up against the Prototype when He came down and tried to end Catnap’s life and steal his body to integrate with His. Catnap vividly remembered the determined expression on your face as you faced off against his fake-god.

You… were merciful. Kind. Real. While the Prototype had stayed to himself, distant from everyone else, you walked with them. You had taken those four away from the factory, swearing to those left behind that help would soon come.

You would save them.

Catnap had to waitfor little less than a week before seeing your promise come to fruition. Not years, or another decade of pain and suffering. Less than a week and all sorts of people were swarming the factory.

You had made everything public knowledge, so the company or anyone else couldn’t just sweep them under a rug and dispose of them. He watched as humans cared for the little ones, offering the food and water that they had been deprived of for so long. PJ Pug-a-pillar, Huggy Wuggy, and others he didn’t know were still alive were pulled from the hands of death and into life. Freedom.

He could have stepped into the light and joined them. He knew the miniatures would be happy about that…yet watching one of miniature counterparts huddle close with its brethren, all of them with juice boxes and blankets, reminded him harshly of what he had done. He had done so much in the name of that false-god…

He had to find The Savior and do what he could to be redeemed.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday poppy playtime #dogday x reader #dogday/reader #dogday x player #dogday/player #poppy #kissy missy #ollie

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bluewxrld07 · 3 months

Text

She's All I Wanna Be (Trevor Zegras)

Trevor Zegras x Reader - Instagram AU

Warning(s): Angst

Summary: Based off Tate McRae's song She's All I Wanna Be :)

dixiedamelio just posted a photo!!

liked by charlidamelio, mileycyrus, trevorzegras, and 1,250,542 others

dixiedamelio Inner Miley Cyrus Bangerz era.... oh and pc to Z

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user1 ok but her suit slays

user2 anybody else notice she didn't tag Trevor? Little sis if you ask me

user3 We all know they're together at this point. They just don't want to rip the bandaid off

user2 Right? We all know he dumped yourusername to be with Dixie. He's just trying to avoid confirmation

charlidamelio 🦆

addisonrae Bod goals af

trevorzegras 😳

trevorzegras sorry still in awe of u

user4 He doesn't even try to hide it

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by jackhughes, yourbff, jamiedrysdale, colecaufield and 1,475,998 others

yourusername you want the girl with the small waist, and the perfect smile

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user1 She's always been so gorgeous I am obsessed w/her

user2 Glad to see a model who has the same body type as me owning it 🥰

user3 Yeeesshhhh Trevor's loss

user4 Why would she post something like this when her body looks like that? It's actually horrendous 🤢

user1 This is what healthy looks like first off? Second off she's a gym influencer who heavy lifts? What's your talent? Tell me her confidence levels are annoying you without actually telling me fr user4

yourbff Currrrves for daysss

yourbff Hottie w/ a body??!

jackhughes Bestie looking fine as always

yourbff um jackhughes bye she's my bff get your own bff since your last one has a trashy looking type jackhughes Shhhh don't expose me like that we don't claim it

trevorzegras just posted a photo!

liked by charlidamelio, dixiedamelio, alexturcotte, and 1,045,609 others

trevorzegras Obsessed w/ u

tagged: dixiedamelio

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user1 well this wasn't on my bingo card

user2 omg isn't that Charli's sister? I forgot her name. What does she do???

user1 I'm dead, you really clowning her lmfao user2

user3 So much prettier than what's her face

user4 I miss yourusername

user5 It's the fact that she's back to her darker hair? Anyone finding that a little weird?

dixiedamelio All heart eyes for you 😘

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by yourbff, jackhughes, tatemcrae, gigihadid, and 2,649,913 others

yourusername if you say she's nothing to worry about, then why'd close your eyes when I said it out loud?

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jackhughes Bring me my matcha latte

yourusername I'd already be there if someone didn't drop it, so we're getting you a new one jackhughes yourbff It wasn't my fault the door didn't announce its presence..... jackhughes only you'd blame the door yourbff

user1 Literally love this girl

user2 Kinda crazy Trevor posts Dixie right after yourusername posted. He also never posted her, so what makes Dixie so different lmao

user3 what’s crazier is that Dixie literally just dyed her hair blonde and cut it so short, to now having dark hair and extensions 🤔

yourbff You look sooo good

yourbff IM obsessed w/ YOU

user4 The shade lmfao crazy

dixiedamelio posted a photo!

liked by noahbeck, charlidamelio, tanamongeau, trevorzegras and 3,146,098 others

dixiedamelio thanks vanity fair for the fun day 💅🏼

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user1 ohhhh boy…

user2 Yeah it’s scary how much she’s tryna look like yourusername

tanamongeau Wow Dix ballsy as fuck lmao

yourbff interesting.

user3 SO glad yourbff sees it too

user4 Dixie can try to look like her, but she won’t ever be able to lift like her. Bet she can’t lift anything over ten pounds

jackhughes just posted a photo!

liked by yourbff, colecaufield, l_hughes03, yourusername and 5,973,899 others

jackhughes We can lay on her and she still doesn’t feel a thing. Probably could lift us both with her eyes closed

tagged: yourusername, colecaufield

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user1 I’m living for Jack being on her side during this lmfao

user2 The SHADE LMFAO JACK

user3 Let’s see Dixie try to remake this photo bahahah

yourbff Pretty sure you all fell asleep like that too

yourusername we did lmfao

colecaufield comfiest I’ve ever slept

jackhughes 10/10 recommend

yourbff Writing out the yelp review rn

l_hughes03 I call top next time

yourbff just posted a photo!

liked by tatemcrae, yourusername, colecaufield and 1,347,856 others

yourbff I was just as amazed as Tate was when y/n lifted me onto her back. Carrying me on her back as well as she did with her last relationship. Stupid boy making her so sad

tagged: tatemcrae, yourusername

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tatemcrae That last line in your caption sounding a little familiar 🤔🤔

tatemcrae But also me next, me next!!

jackhughes I walked in on this

l_hughes03 I walked out on this

colecaufield I wanna be in on this

yourusername you’re all a pain in my ass on this

yourbff We just love you ok

*liked by yourusername, jackhughes, l_hughes03, colecaufield and tatemcrae*

user1 This friendgroup is what I strive to have in life

user2 Dixie kicking and punching air rn

*liked by yourbff*

dixiedamelio posted a photo!

liked by charlidamelio, trevorzegras, jamiedrysdale, alexturcotte and 4,137,980 others

dixiedamelio all mine plus bff

tagged : trevorzegras, alexturcotte

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user1 Girl keep him lmfao nobody gonna steal him like you did to yourusername

*liked by yourbff*

user2 Nah man not Alex bro rip 🥲🥲

trevorzegras all yours ❤️

charlidamelio He wanted someone he could show off whenever you go out

dixiedamelio I’ll wear a tight mini black dress with all my friends around 💅🏼

user3 ohhhh she PETTY petty

user4 Her and her sister wanna be besties with Tate and yourusername so bad omfg it’s a headache

*liked by yourbff and tatemcrae*

tanamongeau I think I’ve seen similar posts like these somewhere….🤔

yourusername posted a photo!

liked by jackhughes, tatemcrae, yourbff, trevorzegras and 7,247,113 others

yourusername I’m all she wanna be so bad

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user1 OH NOW THIS WAS A TWIST

user2 Not her turning the lyrics around to call out Dixie oop

tatemcrae lyric change approved 😚❤️

yourusername 🥰💅🏼

yourbff kind of like this version better

tatemcrae Glad I’m not the only one

jackhughes Permission to call you mommy after seeing this post?

yourusername denied

yourbff denied

tatemcrae denied

l_hughes03 Wow you got rejected more than me my Freshman year at Umich jackhughes

colecaufield The better looking ex

user3 It’s the fact Trevor liked the post too I’m dead

*liked by yourbff and yourusername*

#hockey boys #angst #luke hughes #y/n #cole caufield x reader #jack hughes x reader #trevorzegras #Trevor zegras imagine #trevor Zegras X reader #Tate McRae #think later #tik tok #trevor zegras angst #instagram au #instagram au imagine

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

TL;DR: AITA for using slurs to try and take them back?

Kindly asking people who arent queer or have autism/adhd ect not to vote

I have autism, Adhd, BPD and am a lesbian genderfluid person. I found out a while ago that theres people who actually try and take back words so they can't really be used against the people it was used against anymore. For example. The r word and the f word (not fuck, The other one)

I've been using them more lately to try and take em back, Yknow? I don't see anything wrong with it since I myself am autistic and apart of the lgbtq. I use it in arguments, I use it against my friends when we're playing around and pretending to be mad, And I even use it against myself at times calling myself yknow, A f and r word. I don't wanna say the actual things here incase it triggers anyone reading.

I always tag it correctly if its online or public, And I don't use them in every argument, Only if they started using stuff like that first. It's never been a problem, Until as of late. We made a new friend and they told me that I have no right to use those words, And that I'm hurting real autistic people and gay people [I don't know if they were implying I'm faking? I've been diagnosed by multiple doctors when I was little for the nerodivergency, And I've always liked using different pronouns and women since I remember]

It's begun to kinda tear our friend group apart. I'm not trying to hurt anyone, I'm trying to take it back so it can be come as useless as any insult like stupid or ugly. I want to make it more normalized so it cant hurt anyone anymore

Some still agree that I'm not really hurting anyone but now a few of my friends say until I stop they want nothing to do with me. I'm fine with not saying it around them if it makes them uncomfortable, But they say I need to stop for good.

AITA for saying these, And WIBTA for not stopping in general instead of just around them?

I'll put the word to search here incase I want this deleted

"plagiarize"

Just a note about that last line: please do not submit things intending to have them deleted later. Deleting posts is a courtesy I offer in case it becomes too dangerous or painful to have up, not something you should be planning for when you submit it.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lucrezianoin · 4 months

Text

Wyll and Astarion banter (2/2)

Collection of banter between Wyll and Astarion (you can find part 1 here). In case I will add more in the future I will use the tag "wyllstarion banter".

This one has a lot of dialogues I literally never heard of, so I wonder if some of them are not in game anymore (tho they are act 3 specific).

Astarion: I hardly saw you at the party. Did the honest and true Blade sneak off for a little fun? Wyll: No! Nothing like that at all. Astarion: Oh, but you protest too much. Now I know you were practicing your swordplay.

---

Wyll: Ah - the memories. The Blushing Mermaid's where fifteen-year-old Wyll snuck his first kiss. Astarion: You didn't kiss anyone until you were fifteen? Gods, what a tragic, sheltered life... Wyll: Sheltered? Not at all. I was exposed to all manner of riot and revelry. Hells, my father even urged me on once or twice. But I've always been a bit old-fashioned on these matters. I find more pleasure in a courtly dance than a loveless fling.

---

Astarion: I lived two centuries in this city, but it can still surprise me. Wyll: Baldur's Gate harbours many a secret. Even the longest-lived explorers have yet to uncover them all. Speaking of - what were you getting up to all those years? Astarion: Let's not get into details. If Baldur's Gate can have its secrets, so can I.

---

Wyll: Astarion, I was wrong about you. Truly wrong about you. Astarion: Let me guess - you thought I'd suck blood, but actually I just suck? Was that your witty jab? (devnote: a little tired of Wyll's bullshit) Wyll: No, I mean it. There's little between us we share. But you've fallen in love and stood by your lover. That is something this dreamer's heart can appreciate.

(this is a spawn astarion romanced dialogue)

---

(more under cut)

Astarion: Well, it's no Baldur's Gate, but at least it's some kind of civilisation. Wyll: I do miss the Gate, though. The Elfsong Tavern! Sunset over Grey Harbour! Fried fish at the docks! Astarion: Drunk young patriars, naked in the fountains! Ah, civilisation... (note: whistfully)

---

Wyll: Finally, we're approaching Moonrise Towers. Astarion: Nothing escapes the Blade of Frontiers' keen senses, I see. Wyll: Mock me all you want, Astarion. We could use a little comic relief. Astarion: Yes, that's why I'm mocking you - to keep our spirits up. No other reason...

---

Astarion: You know, I've never seen this place in the daylight before. Wyll: I always loved this park. Spent a lot of time here as a boy battling imaginary monsters. Astarion: Oh, I was going to say it looks wretched. The dark hid all the kitschy details.

---

Wyll: Astarion, I just want to say - I judged you wrongly. I'm sorry. Astarion: Really? And how - specifically - have you misjudged my fine character? Wyll: You aren't actually insufferably randy. You're just insufferable.

---

Astarion: Marriage, Wyll? I thought you'd have learned not to get trapped by devious contracts. Wyll: I was planning to invite you to the ceremony, but I'm having second thoughts. Astarion: I'd love to come! As long as I can sit with someone fun. Mizora, perhaps?

---

Wyll: I'd watch yourself, my friend. I don't know if our pale rogue has anything good in his heart, or even a scrap of it left for you. Astarion: Excuse me? That's just mean - we're all adults here. Wyll: Your heart's cold as ice, Astarion. I'm just making sure no one slips and gets hurt.

---

Wyll: As much love as I hold for Baldur's Gate, these frontiers delight me as much as any bustling street. Astarion: You can't be serious? This is a howling wasteland! I haven't even had a bath since the abduction. I must reek of ilithid slime. Wyll: Sure, but think of the stories you'll be able to tell.

---

Shadowheart: So. A vampire spawn and a monster hunter in the same group. We're not going to have trouble, are we? Astarion: Excuse me? Since this tadpole, I'm barely a monster at all. I just want to survive, same as you. Wyll: I don't see a problem, as long as mister fang there keeps his appetite in check.

---

Astarion: A question for our master monster hunter: how would you approach killing a vampire? Wyll (he knows Astarion is a vampire): A full-on vamp, you mean? Lure it into the sun, drive a stake through its heart. And that's not the end of it. The suckers are wily. No offence. Astarion: None taken. Wiliness keeps me alive. More or less.

Wyll (he doesn't know Astarion is a vampire): To start? Lure it into the sun, drive a stake through its heart. Why? Astarion: Just curious.

---

(this is about the Moonrise Oubliette)

Astarion: Admittedly, I don't care for most people, but this is a terrible waste. (note: referring to all the wasted blood) Wyll: Because their lives were cut brutally short, you mean. Astarion: I - ... yes, that. That's clearly what I was referring to. (note: pretending he wasn't referring to all the wasted blood)

#wyllstarion #bloodpact #wyll ravengard #wyll #astarion #wyllstarion banter

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gojocp · 9 months

Text

"now playing:.."

cw: fluff, angst(??) in itadori's part featuring: gojo satoru, geto suguru, megumi fushiguro, nanami kento, yuuji itadori

a/n: the way i literally deleted all of the fic and had to redo it. also has anyone read the webtoon 'weak hero' cuz im re-reading it and there are literally ZERO fics abt it. also pls lmk if u find any apocalypse-type jjk or aot fics. lmk how this is!! (i think i turned geto in another version of gojo, i literally cannot write for anyone but him its so sad. also i feel like megumi's made no sense LMAO)

GOJO SATORU: 'always forever' by cults. "you and me.. always, forever!! we could stay.. alone, together!!" ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"hey, stop! get away suguru!" utahime shouts, running away from the 16 year old. "nope, sorry utahime! no tag-backs!!" he responds, slapping her back and running away.

"fine! screw you!" she shouts, running to haibara and tagging him quickly.

"haibara! get me!" yells suguru, waving his arms. "okay! if you say so!" haibara responds, doing as the upperclassmen says.

"thanks!" he smiles, making a bee-line towards utahime. "stop it! (y/n) help me, please! why aren't you two playing?" she yells.

"we're tired man.." satoru says, resting his head on yours as you lean against his shoulder, eating a popsicle.

"you were sitting there the whole time!" shoko exclaims. "you didn't even do anything." nanami agrees, having yet to be caught.

"if you need some shade you're free to join us." you say. "no thanks, we're actually getting excercise, unlike you guys. so lazy.." suguru responds.

"hey! stop ganging up on us! we'll sit if we want to! get lost!!" satoru shouts.

.・。.・゜✭・.

after 10 minutes of running around some more, the others decide to call it a day and take a seat in the shade of a seperate tree, not wanting to disturb the two of you. and not wanting to deal with satoru complaining.

"hey, this is nice y'know.." satoru starts, "just being alone together, while the others do their own thing. we should do this more often, just the two of us." he continues. "yeah, it's nice." you agree, looking up and placing a kiss on his jaw.

"hey! look at the sunset!" utahime exclaims, directing your attention away from your boyfriend for a moment. "oo, it's so pretty!" you gush.

"yeah," satoru agrees, looking at you. "it is pretty."

0:40 ——|———————— -3:20

GETO SUGURU: 'lovers rock' by tv girl. "and if you're too drunk to drive, and the music is right. she might let you stay, but just for the night" ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

just like any teenager, suguru believes he can hold alcohol pretty well. he can't.

when shoko sneaks alcohol into the dorms, she convinces the 4 of you to try some. of course, satoru boasts about how well he can tolerate alcohol and challenges suguru to a 'drink off', as he says. after taking a few drinks from his glass, satoru is out cold. shoko decides to put the bottle away and take satoru to his room, leaving you with your drunk boyfriend to take care of.

"please get up, sugu. let me take you back to your room." you say, trying to convince him to get off your lap. "nahh, i'm good." he responds, slurring his words.

"okay fine, stay there then." you say, standing up and leaving him to lay on the floor. "wait-! where are you going? don't leave!" he exclaims, standing up too quickly. you move to catch him, swinging one of his arms over your shoulder to support his weight.

"back to your room, suguru," you respond, "that's where we're going."

"no! i don't wanna." he says stubbornly, wrapping his other arm around you. "wait- stop! we're gonna fall!" you shout. "then we can fall..!" he giggles.

"oh my god, you're so stubborn. i'm taking you to my room." you say, slightly agitated. "ooo, didn't know you were like that." he says, wriggling his eyebrows. 'kill me now.' you think, realizing your mistake, knowing he won't leave you alone about it.

"let's hurry to your room then." he says, leaving a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

you drag him to your room and drop him on the bed and head to the bathroom to do your skincare. when you come back, you find him staring at you, love prominent in his eyes.

"hey, cutie." he flirts with a grin on his lips. "shut up and go to bed." you respond.

"ow, so rude." he says, making himself comfortable under the covers.

"i love you.." he says, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek. "i love you too, go to sleep." you say, facing away from him. he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, kissing your nape a few times and snuggling into your neck.

"goodnight.." he mumbles, falling asleep soon after. "goodnight, sugu."

1:20 ————|—————— -3:20

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO: 'see you again' by tyler, the creator. "can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever..." ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it's not often you and your friends get to hang out, often too busy with school work.

"wooo! i love the beach!" yuuji exclaims, chasing nobara as you all make your way to the sand. upon arriving, itadori quickly takes off his shoes and clothes, leaving him in his swimwear and runs into the water.

"guys!! (y/n)!! nobara!! megumi!! come swim!!" he exclaims, waving his arms. "coming!! wait up!" nobara says, running into the water.

after placing the towels and bags on the sand, you and megumi make your way to the water. "ugh! stop splashing me itadori!" nobara yells, splashing water back at itadori.

stepping into the water, megumi holds his hand out for you. "here." he says, offering you his hand. "thank you." you say, smiling at him. "eww! you guys are gross!" nobara says, splashing you with water as itadori joins in, splashing megumi.

"hey!" megumi scolds, throwing a beachball at itadori. "ow! what the hell?" itadori exclaims, as nobara laughs at him. "don't laugh, nobara!!"

"whatever.." she responds, splashing him again and swimming off. "get back here!" says itadori. "never!!" she retorts, getting splashed seconds later.

.・。.・゜✭・.

"oh god.. i'm so tired.." you say, heading back to the dorms. "i need a massage so bad." you continue. "i could give you one when we're back?" megumi offers, the others not being able to hear over their yells and shouts at each other. "i'd like that, thank you!" you beam, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

after changing your clothes, you lay down and megumi begins massaging the knots out of your back. letting out a sigh of pleasure, you say, "thank you, megumi.." you say, smiling softly. "anytime." he responds fondly.

after a bit of silence, megumi decides to break it. "you know, sometimes i wonder.." if you look both ways when you cross my mind. "yeah?" you urge him to continue. "no, nevermind.." he replies. "you sure?" you ask. "yeah." he says smiling. "okay.." you say, deciding not to push him.

"i'm done.." he says, moving away and tucking you in. "can i get a kiss?" you ask, as he starts to leave. and can you make it last forever? smiling, he walks over and places a soft kiss on your lips. "goodnight.." he says. "goodnight... i love you." you say, smiling up at him. "i love you too." he says, placing another kiss on your cheek and shutting the door behind him.

2:00 ——————|———— -3:20

NANAMI KENTO: 'for the first time' by mac de marco. "it's just like seeing her.. for the first time..again.." ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

two weeks. it had been two weeks since kento had seen you face-to-face. having to go on a mission out of the country, he wasn't very fond of leaving you alone for a long time. and even though you reassured him over and over, saying "oh, i'll be fine!! don't worry," and "it's only two weeks.. you'll be back in no time." he still worried.

and after two dreadful and godawful (according to him) weeks, he was finally back in japan, handing in his report.

"alright, that's everything. you're free to leave." upon hearing those words, he rushed out and quickly headed home.

"kento?" you asked, when you heard the front door open. "i'm home." he said warmly, with a fond smile etched on his face. 'they're so beautiful, just like when we first met.' running up to him, you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a warm hug, asking "how are you?".

"i'm okay, how have you been?" he asks. "ehh, it's been the same." you respond. squeezes his arms around your waist tighter and places soft kisses on your face.

"what's gotten into you, kento?" you question, laughing softly. "i missed you." he states, placing a final kiss on your forehead. "i missed you too, dear. how about you shower and we can eat? i made your favourite." you say, smiling up at him. "okay.. wait for me, my love." he responds, leaving to go shower.

.・。.・゜✭・.

after eating, you both head to bed and lie down. wrapping your arms around kento, you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him.

"i missed you kento.." you say sleepily. "i missed you too." he responds. "i love you.." you add, letting sleep engulf you. "i love you too." he whispers, while softly sleeping.

'it's just like seeing her for the first time.. again..'

2:40 ————————|—— -3:20

YUJI ITADORI: "i'll never smile again" by tommy dorsey. 'i'll never smile again...untill i smile at you' ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

'how did this happen?' he thinks to himself. 'this was supposed to be a grade one curse, where the hell did the special grade come from?'

you and yuuji were paired up to travel to shibuya to excorsise a grade one curse. easy enough, right? WRONG!! like all missions in shibuya, something had to go wrong, and in this case, a special grade appeared. you both tried your best to excorsise it, but all your efforts were futile as you were knocked out, and the curse remained in the city.

it had been two hours since then, another sorceror was sent to excorsise the curse. but yuji didn't care, his partner was unconsious and greatly injured, for heavens sake! you had been impaled in the arm and legs and cursed buds were planted inside you, growing deeper and deeper the more you used cursed energy.

i mean, it was already bad enough that an s grade curse appeared, but know you can't even use cursed techniques? the 15 year old couldn't recall what he had done to deserve this, but that's because he didn't do anything. the world is just cruel.

he couldn't ever imagine smiling or being truly happy in a world without you. you were the love of his life. you were his everything. he couldn't lose you too.

'i'll never smile again, until i smile at you.' he thinks to himself. 'please.. whatever god is up there, please save my partner.. i'm begging you..'

love really is the most twisted curse of all.

3:20 ——————————| -3:20

282 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 2 years

Note

It is the first time I have made a request, but I would like to ask the reaction of Alastor, Vox, Pentious and Blizø when their s / o is seriously injured when saving their lives. Thank you.

Love angsty asks with comfort.

Pairing: Alastor, Vox, Sir Pentious, Blitzo x Reader

Tags: injury, hurt/comfort, gentle kisses, gentle touches, caring demon men

A/N: I'm gonna open requests again soon so get your requests ready folks!

Alastor is smiles and charm most of the time, its one of the things he's known for. However the other thing is being very vicious. And when you get hurt while trying to protect him, not only does his smile falter and form into a scowl, but he shifts into his full demon form, something that he doesn't done in quite a while. When the carnage is done he picks you up gently in his arms and carried you home, telling you how what you did was very foolish but he would have done the same for you.

That was very reckless of you my darling. Do you have any idea how worried you made me when I saw you on the floor in the pool of your own blood? We're gonna have a long talk about you being reckless when I bandage these injuries. You're lucky I love you, or I might take a bite of you myself.

Vox is used to getting assassination attempts on a weekly basis. Out of all the VVV he's the one who's taken the least seriously due to his very carefree attitude, however it comes with the entertainment business and is part of his persona. When you step in front of a knife for him and fall to your knees he doesn't hesitate for a moment to kill the person who hurt you on the spot. He also broadcasts it to let anyone know this is what happens when they hurt you, he can handle any assassin no problem, but he will absolutely not let you get hurt for it.

You know... I consider myself very lucky to have you by my side, little spark. So why would you do something as stupid as to stand in front of a fucking knife for me? Did you want to make me worry? There are easier ways to do that. You did it on instinct? Well it's a stupid instinct then. Of course I would step in for you, the difference is that I'm gonna heal in a matter of hours! Fine, we agree to disagree, now stand still, I'm trying to stitch this up.

Sir Pentious is no stranger to explosions and other incidents in the lab. Burns, shocks, radiation, he's seen it all. He loves having you in the lab with him, but on the day he got a little distracted with you, which resulted in an explosion where you pushed him out of the way and got a severe burn on your arm. The Egg Bois rushed in to help him put the fire out and you were rushed out of the lab quickly. Pentious blamed himself all the while, he should have been more careful, payed more attention, you wouldn't have gotten hurt if he did.

Hold still love. Hey, get me more bandages and ice! Now! No, no, you just stay here. I'm sorry. I-I should have done better. You were just so cute, I couldn't help but stare at you. I'll make you better again I promise! You're gonna be good as new before you know it and I'm not leaving your side until you are. That's a promise. And I'll install batter safety measures in the lab.

Blitzo has gotten his fair share of injuries of all kinds. His white marks are evidence of them all. He's always watching your back when you go on missions together, just like you watch his, there's never much trouble. But he slips up once, which makes you take the blow instead of him. Moxxie and Millie freeze as well as you fall to the found clenching your side. A few silent moments go by before your face is painted in blood from Blitzo killing the person who injured you. Since he is very used to injuries he knows just what to do to patch you up real good.

That was really fucking stupid of you babe. Don't get sassy with me when you're bleeding all over the couch. Yeah I would've jumped in for you too, that doesn't mean I can't be pissed about this. Just... ugh... this one is gonna leave a scar for sure. Haha, yeah we can be "scar darlings" as you put it.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #alastor x reader #vox x reader #sir pentious x reader #blitzo x reader #alastor #vox #sir pentious #blitzo

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violetsiren90 · 11 months

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All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 2 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon x f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; Talk and depictions of cancer, its treatment, and the symptoms of both; implication of some disregard for personal agency by entertainment and medical industries; MC is diagnosed with asthma and experiences symptoms; flashbacks of a distressing situation; soulmate first touch & subsequent skinship; partial disrobing for medical purposes; medical setting and minor treatments; some social awkwardness; talk of food, eating, and alcohol consumption in the context of a soulmate AU

Author's Note: Chapter 2 is here! I tried my best to write Namjoon's response under the circumstances, but honestly I don't know how well it was executed. Let me know what you think in the comments/asks! I'm super open to constructive criticism and feedback. Also, I did my best with the Korean phrases and medical jargon. If anyone has more extensive knowledge on those subjects and wants to fact-check, please let me know!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.”

~ Pablo Neruda

Chapter 2: Touching Me, Touching You

When you touched down at Incheon International Airport, you and Matt were greeted by a rather unnecessarily large party of Hybe personnel in black plainclothes wearing masks who snatched up your baggage and ushered you into the first of a small fleet of black SUV's. The member of the legal advisory team who had visited you in the states, Choi Kang Dae, was riding shotgun and speaking into a cell phone that had not left his ear since departing the baggage claim. In the row behind you was another man you assumed to be a translator, given his fluency in English, but who was currently chopping it up with Matt in Korean, and beside him a large, serious, silent man whose eyes kept traveling to you every now and again. You assumed that meant that the rest of the ensemble filling the vehicles behind you were security, which somehow made you feel less rather than more at ease.

The further you advanced in traffic through the busy streets of Seoul, the more anxious you became. A thousand questions began to flood your brain as your heart began to hammer in your chest. If all these people had come to meet you, were you headed to the hospital now? Weren't you supposed stop at your accommodations first? If you didn't, would you even have a chance to shower a day's worth of airport off before meeting your soulmate? Were you about to bond right now? Would people be watching? Would it hurt? Why hadn't you ever thought of these things before? You felt a familiar tightness in your chest and pulled out your inhaler. An asthma attack right now? They always seemed to strike at the most inopportune times.

Matt was suddenly turning to you.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, looking at the inhaler you were shaking for a second puff.

You slowly exhaled and nodded.

"I'm fine. But where are we going right now, can you ask them?"

The translator asked the Kang Dae something in Korean, and after he responded, the other man turned to you.

"We're going to the hospital. Namjoon-ssi had a seizure last night due to a prolonged high-grade fever, so we are trying to act as quickly as possible to avoid further complications."

Matt turned to the translator.

"This should have been the first thing we heard when we stepped off that plane. I'm not trying to play hardball here, but we're going to have to be communicated with about every step of this process so we can decide how we're going to respond. This was in the contract, communication and a chance to speak with me before she makes any step in this process..."

Matt slipped in and out of English as the attorney apologetically reassured him through the translator of their full intent to follow the contractual specifications. You felt sick, and your heart continued to hammer - though now for different reasons. You had been worried about a shower while he was fighting for his life. This was no time for nerves. You had to fight for his life too.

When the vehicle pulled into the ambulance bay, you and Matt were handed surgical masks and ushered, with security and other Hybe personnel in tow, through the ICU and into a massive steel elevator. You watched the round button number "5" light up red as Kang Dae pushed it with a gloved hand. After the brief assent, the doors opened into a space that looked like it was straight out of a Star Trek episode - floor to ceiling white, blinding fluorescent lights, and hospital workers covered from head to toe in sterile garments ebbing and flowing in urgent silence to and fro to the rhythmic serenading hums and beeps of medical equipment. You blinked in the offending brightness.

Your party was immediately approached by a small woman with a tablet and stylus who addressed Kang Dae. You heard your name mentioned. You heard Matt's. After a brief exchange with the Hybe attorney, Matt relayed that you were going to meet with Namjoon's oncologist. Kang Dae turned to address the security staff, and his words were met with nods and murmurs of acknowledgment except by the tall, serious man from the SUV, who responded to the attorney in a low but firm tone, his eyes flashing over to you as he spoke. You looked over to Matt, your brow creased in question. He watched as Kang Dae concluded the exchange and lead your now small group of four to follow the petite woman down a long, wide hall. As you walked, Matt leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"It appears the indignant gentleman is your personal bodyguard. Seems he's reluctant to stay behind with the rest of security."

You glanced in surprised curiosity over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of the guard seated beside the rest of the team, elbows propped on his knees and hands clasped under his chin, a pensive expression on his rugged features, before he disappeared from view as you rounded a bend.

The hall connected to a labyrinth of others, snaking off left and right, and punctuated with massive, heavy doors. Your guide abruptly swung left to face one of the entrees, flashing a badge card across a sensor which beeped, allowing her to push it inward. It opened into a suite of rooms much homier than the atmosphere behind you, though every bit as sterile.

In the vestibule was a small acrylic table surrounded by matching chairs. As you passed through you noted to the right, a small kitchenette, and to the left a rather large bathroom. At the end of the suite, you shuffled into a large room, separated on the far left end by a curtain. The space in which you stood was fitted with grey leather furniture, a tall bamboo plant in the corner, and a low acrylic coffee-table. An older, distinguished looking man in a white jacket stood from where he had been seated in one of the arm chairs and bowed. Your group bowed in return, and the translator asked that you be seated.

Dr. Na, as the man in the coat was introduced, would run through some last matters with you before you were to meet your soulmate. He relayed through the translator that this hospital was state of the art, Korea's finest, and a frontrunner in successful experimental treatments for cancer and other genetic diseases. The room you were occupying, he said, was a suite meant for long-term inpatient care, and would be nearly identical to the space you would share with Namjoon for the remainder of his inpatient treatment. He explained that Namjoon's condition has been detected far later than was desirable, and that treatments had included invasive surgery and aggressive rounds of chemotherapy, which had slowed, but not stopped the spread of tumors throughout his body. He said that Namjoon had displayed extreme physical and emotional resilience, but that his will to fight the disease overtaking his body had begun to wane with his strength and increasingly burdensome symptoms from both the cancer and its treatment.

At this point, Dr. Na turned to face Matt full on, and earnestly imparted to him while gesticulating at you. Matt's brow furrowed, and he nodded as he listened to the oncologist before turning serious eyes toward you. Kang Dae began to say something, but the doctor held up his hand while also turning his eyes toward you with an expectant gaze.

"Y/n," Matt began, interlacing his fingers as he often did when trying to choose his words carefully, "Dr. Na says that there is not a lot of research around treating cancer, especially at such an advanced stage, with the soulmate bond. There are accounts of it having seemingly miraculous effects on injury and illness, but none that have been objectively measured. It has been scientifically proven to a degree that soulmates bring about peak physical conditions in one another through the bond...over time. The thing the good doctor here really wants you to understand is that there is no guarantee that there is enough time in our situation. He says that bonding with him is going to be a major risk. If the treatment isn't successful and Namjoon should pass, that would mean your ultimate death soon after."

Matt's face had lost most of its stoicism. He looked deeply worried. He looked like he wanted you to get on a plane with him back to the States. He looked like he knew what you were going to do instead. You see, you had already thought about it - the possibility of death. You nodded.

"Tell him I understand, Matt," you said calmly, "Tell him I'd like to meet Namjoon-ssi."

Matt stared at you for a beat, as if debating with himself before turning back to relay your message to Dr. Na. The oncologist nodded, and then turned to you and asked another question in Korean. The translator explained that the doctor wanted to know if you understood the basic implications of the soul-bond. You sighed. You did. You knew that once bonded you would be reliant on each other for nourishment and survival until the end of your natural lives, and that the bond once established was irreversible. You knew the bond was initiated and maintained through skin-to-skin contact. You knew that the bond changed your body chemistry to no longer need food or water, and that food would eventually be rejected by the body like poison. You knew these things because you had done extensive research, not because anyone in the company asking for you to give over your body and soul had tried to make you aware. They had been interested in matters of signatures and compensation. How considerate of someone to ask you now, you thought with some contempt. You wondered what Namjoon knew, what he had been told, what he had been asked.

"I would like to meet my soulmate now," you said suddenly, cutting through the exchange between Dr. Na and Kang Dae.

All eyes turned on you, leaving in half-finished sentences a wake of mild surprise. "I know what I'm getting into on my end of things. You had expressed before that time was of the essence and I would like to be brought to him now."

Matt relayed your response to the group, and the doctor nodded. Soon you were being handed a hospital gown, and a sports bra, underwear, and socks from your suitcase - that you realized with a bit of alarm and indignation, you had not given anyone permission to retrieve - and were instructed to shower and change into these items.

You slipped into the bathroom and sank down on the closed toilet, dropping your head onto the little bundle of clothes in your arms. In your first few moments alone in over twenty-four hours, everything was beginning to hit like a volley of arrows. Agendas, agendas. Hybe wanted your soulmate. The hospital wanted to beat his cancer. You wanted to help him live. But what did he want? Had anyone asked? Would he be honest, if they did? Not for the first time, something squeezed in your chest at the thought of him. But this time, it was stronger. Your head shot up from your lap. You had somewhere to be.

After a quick and thorough wash-up, you padded into the hall where the little group awaited you. You were self-conscious in your limited attire, and you stood awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the next as people murmured in Korean. A nurse, who had joined the small throng, approached you, slipping a hospital bracelet with your name and Hangul characters and little numbers around your wrist and handing you a pair of grey slippers. Matt turned to you.

"This is it, kiddo. You're going to go with Dr. Na and have your vitals taken, have some blood drawn, and then you'll go meet him."

Matt sighed deeply, his eyes searching yours. He took a backward glance and stepped just a bit closer, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You sure about this?"

You nodded.

"Yes, Matt, I'm sure."

He pulled his mouth in into a tense line, his brows drawing together.

"That face you're making, that defiance in your eyes," his hand fell from your shoulder, "You could be his twin. I know I can't change your mind now. Nothing could."

You gave a knowing smile. He wasn't wrong.

"I'm gonna be okay, Matt. I'll see you tomorrow. Call my mom and tell her things went fine. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Matt scratched the back of his head, regarding you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. He bent to press a kiss to your forehead, and turned to make his polite goodbyes.

The nurse ushered you down the hall and into a room that looked a little more like a typical hospital room with a gauze-covered table, a scale, and other vaguely familiar machines and equipment. After she had collected the desired data and taken a vial of your blood, she made a page in Korean, and then motioned for you to follow her. She took you down another series of passages and finally, when you were sure Theseus himself couldn't have found his way back, she stopped in front of a large steel door and scanned her badge.

Room number 594.

The door opened on its heavy hinges, swinging slowly inward. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You realized the moment you crossed the threshold that you didn't have your things. You didn't have your phone, or your bag, or the book that was inside it, or what was between the pages of the book.

You thought about pear-shaped Italian cheese as you crossed through the kitchen area.

You thought about little Diana trying to stop your mother from crying as she lay on the floor of the kitchen, body shaking with sobs, as you moved into large open room at the end of the suite.

And then, there he was. It was all you could do not to gasp.

You would never have recognized him for the man in the photo Diana had shoved into your face last week. Sitting propped up in a large hospital bed, he was covered up to the waist in blankets. His frame, though unmistakably large, was gaunt, and his white tee draped around him like something that used to fit - patches and wires visible across his chest through the cotton fabric. His long arms were thinner than they should have been, ashy, and littered with bruises. His head leaned back against the pillows, he wore a black beanie low on his brow, but not low enough to hide the naked skin where his eyebrows had been. His full lips were chapped and parted as he labored somewhat to breathe. The doctor was speaking to a tall man in a black tee and jeans beside the bed. Namjoon was watching them, until, suddenly, his gaze flicked to you. Your breath caught in your chest. His eyes were unchanged. Something flooded your veins.

"I need to speak with Namjoon-ssi, please," you said abruptly, turning to the doctor and the man beside him.

They looked at you, quizzically. You cleared your throat to speak again, slower and more firmly.

"Could I be alone with him, for a moment? I need to speak with him before we begin."

The doctor turned to say something to the tall man, but a voice from the hospital bed addressed them in a soft, deep timbre. The tall man glanced at you and then at Namjoon and replied. They held a short exchange before both he and the doctor filed reluctantly out of the room, taking the nurse with them.

Namjoon sat further up in the bed, his face contorting in pain as you approached him. You stood a few feet from where he sat, your hands inexplicably itching to reach out for him. You clasped them behind your back.

"Hello," he, rasped.

Even the hoarseness couldn't hide the warmth of his voice. You thought his eyes and his voice must be made of the very same stuff. You were suddenly a different kind of nervous. You didn't even register your own initiative to speak as the question came tumbling out.

"Do you want to live?"

Your soulmate blinked in surprise.

"What?"

You took a breath and repeated yourself, this time with intention.

"Do you want to live?" You asked again. "I know there are plenty of people who want you too, but I want to know what you want."

He regarded you in intent silence for a long moment.

"Yes," he said finally, his cadence thoughtful and deliberate, "Yes, I want to live. I wasn't sure I did, but I do. I do now."

You exhaled a little breath you didn't realize you'd been holding.

"Okay, good," you nodded, looking away from his intent gaze as you fought, again, the surging urge to reach for him.

His lips quirked into a little smirk at your reaction.

"I was going to ask you a question too, but after introductions," those eyes caught yours again, teasingly, and the little smile deepened just a bit, pressing a dimple into his sunken cheek.

The misery he was living in and he was teasing you? You felt something flutter a little in your chest which you willed yourself to ignore.

"I'm sorry," you bit back a smile, glancing away a bit bashfully, "I just needed to know that you had agency over what was happening here, that it was what you wanted. If no one else was going to give you that choice...well, I was."

He regarded you silently again before addressing you.

"It's good to meet you, Y/n-ssi. I'm Kim Namjoon."

You couldn't suppress a smirk at his stubbornness, and at the fact that he already knew your name, like you knew his.

"It's good to meet you, too, Namjoon-ssi," you replied softly.

He suddenly leaned back in the bed, wincing, his chest heaving a bit. You looked over at the heart monitor that beeped beside him to see that his pulse was rising.

"Should I call in the doctor?" You asked in concern.

He shook his head weakly.

"Not yet," he pressed out, with effort. "I...need...to know..."

You stepped closer to hear him.

"Know what?" He closed his eyes , bringing a hand over his chest as the beeping slowed.

"You...could...die...trying to..." he broke into a bought of coughs that was obviously painful. Once he had caught his breath, he rasped, "Are you sure, Y/n-ssi?"

"Yes," you answered without hesitation. "Yes, I'm sure. This is my choice. I'm sure."

He opened his eyes. You held each other in a silent gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't. He merely nodded and asked,

"You ready, then?"

You met his questioning gaze with a wry smile and what you hoped were steady eyes as you answered.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

After the staff had returned to the room, the tall man in plainclothes introduced himself as Sejin, Namjoon's manager. He gave you a deep bow, which you returned, thanking you in practiced English for agreeing to bond with the idol - something that made you uncomfortable all the way down to your bones, and which you tried to dismiss without being impolite. The doctor spoke to Namjoon at some length, gesticulating to you several times. Sejin nodded along as the nurse typed notes onto her tablet.

You felt a bit frustrated, being on the outside of what so immediately concerned you. You were on the verge of asking for Matt to be brought in when Namjoon turned to you.

"The doctor says that while he understands first touch is an intimate experience, that he and two nurses will need to be present to monitor my vitals. My heart is on the weaker side these days."

He looked almost contrite as he said it and your chest squeezed. You nodded understandingly. He might be your soulmate, but you knew this wasn't a meet-cute. This was clinical. What was about to happen between you was a treatment. The doctor continued, and a nurse came around the bed to where you stood and waited expectantly as Namjoon turned to you, this time with an unmistakably apologetic look on his drawn features.

"Dr. Na says that if first contact goes smoothly, we'll need to begin treatments aggressively, which means as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. I guess they want us both in just undergarments."

Ah, hence the hospital gown.

You felt heat creep up your neck. Under any other circumstances you would have been upset at the lack of privacy of it all, but these weren't like any circumstances you had ever been prepared to anticipate. You were going to have to figure the boundaries out as you went.

The nurse beside you rolled up a chair for you to sit in beside the bed, facing Namjoon. She untied and tugged the top of your hospital gown down to place a heart monitor on your chest, your soulmate respectfully averting his gaze.

When all the necessary preparations had been made, you found yourself sitting in a swivel chair cranked up to reach the height of the hospital bed, socked feet not touching the ground. You were facing Namjoon, who kept sitting forward, much to the chagrin of the nurses who kept gently but impatiently guiding him back against the pillows. You felt a sick feeling creep into the pit of your stomach as you glanced at the second nurse wheel in a defibrillator. How bad could this possibly be? Would it hurt? You steeled yourself as Namjoon sat forward again, turning up the palm of his large right hand which rested on the covers beside you.

"It's time," he murmured softly, eyes on you as you gave one more glance to the doctor, who nodded, and giving in to an urge you had kept at bay since you entered the room you slipped your hand into his.

A jolt shot through your body like an intense electric pulse. It hurt, like relentless aftershocks of overstimulation to sensitive flesh...and yet if felt good. So good. You had instinctively pulled to yank your hand away from the pure surprise of it, but you had tugged yourself back to no avail. You opened your eyes (you hadn't remembered closing them) to see Namjoon, head thrown back against the pillows, lips parted and eyes screwed shut as he clutched your hand in a vice grip. You glanced at the heart monitor spitting out beeps consistent with well over a hundred beats per minute. Was that yours or his? But you couldn't very well hold a coherent thought in your mind as warmth began to flood your body, followed by a tingling sensation that seemed to fizzle up from the base of your spine and trickle down your limbs.

Raising suddenly heavy eyes, you realized that you were swaying a bit on your feet. When did you stand? And you were much, much closer to Namjoon - your hand was curling around the base of his bicep, your elbow in his palm, as you pressed every possible square centimeter of your bare arm to his. His eyes were open now and he was looking at you as his chest rose and fell. You returned his gaze, unfocused, drunk on the sensations spreading through your being.

You blinked as you heard the doctor speak, but neither of you tore your eyes away, and as if in a trace, as the nurses helped you out of your clothes, and you crawled into the bed and slotted yourself against his side, stretching out your right arm to wrap around his torso. Every aspect of the feeling grew impossibly stronger, the pleasure factor so high that it felt somehow wrong to be experiencing this with a total stranger in a hospital room surrounded by others. You felt Namjoon let out a shuddering breath. His arms had snaked around you.

The last thing you remembered before falling into a delirium was the nurse pulling the covers over your bodies.

When you awoke, or rather, came to, you felt wrong. You rubbed hazy eyes to find yourself on a little cot. Before you could even wonder where you were or how you got there, the events of the previous day came flooding back.

Holy shit, you thought, you were in Korea. You had met your soulmate - and bonded with him.

When had you even fallen asleep? The last thing you remembered was climbing into Namjoon's bed. Your heartbeat quickened. First touch had been...something else. An image of your soulmate gripping your hand with his head thrown back flashed through your mind.

No, don't, you thought, and pushed yourself to sit up.

In your attempt to move, you quickly realized that the wrongness you felt was that you were incredibly weak. It was a strange sort of weakness, however, one that left you feeling exhausted with every tiny move but wasn't accompanied by any sort of discomfort. In fact, you felt like you were floating on a cloud, if only one you couldn't find the strength to roll off.

You were back in your hospital gown. There was a small table to your left with a lamp, a little vase of flowers, and white telephone. To your left was a machine much like the one you had seen beside Namjoon's bed beeping away, a little green line spiking and dropping across the monitor. A long curtain stretched across the space in front of you. You needed to pee.

As you moved to get off the cot, a sting of pain shot through your right arm at the inner joint and you realized that you had missed the IV drip beside the heart monitor. Clamping the IV stand you rose precariously on wobbly legs. You shuffled wearily forward, pulling the curtain back to reveal the other half of the room...and your soulmate.

He was sitting in bed, over the covers, in a heather grey tee and navy blue sweats, bare feet crossed at the ankles. He was still wearing the beanie, and his head was dipped down, immersed in the book he was holding open in his lap. The mid-morning sun spilled through the open window, bathing the suite in a pale yellow that blanketed generic seating furniture and a small bookshelf topped with a bonsai tree and painted clay figurine beside the bed, but left the abstract art piece on the opposite wall in relative shadow.

You were about to retreat back behind the curtain when a wheel of your portable IV stand betrayed you with a squeak. You pulled the curtain hurriedly shut, but too late.

"Hello?" You heard him call softly.

His voice sounded better, you thought. Not nearly as raspy. You must look like shit, you also thought. Oh well, you needed to get past him to look decent anyway. And to pee. And he was going to see you probably every day for the rest of your life, so, bashfulness regarding your morning mug was definitely a waste of emotional energy. You heaved a sigh, and slowly pulled back the curtain, peeking through as you advanced a step.

"I didn't want to disturb you," you fibbed, clutching the IV stand.

"You're not disturbing me," he responded, shutting his book.

He was looking at you with a soft expression, reserved, but still warm. He looked a lot better than yesterday, too; it was unmistakable. His skin had lost a great deal of its previously ashy quality and the bruises on his arms had nearly vanished. His lips were no longer chapped, and, you noted, were full and naturally deep in color. His face looked less wane, though still thin, his shirt still hanging loosely over his chest and broad, sloping shoulders.

"You look a little better," you urged, hoping to justify your prolonged stare.

He smiled. You were quickly reminded like a sock to the gut how pretty his smile was.

"I feel better," he concurred, "Thanks to you."

You looked down at your feet awkwardly. You had never been good at receiving praise or gratitude.

"Oh...I'm glad," you mumbled.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

You raised your gaze back up to meet his, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

"Probably about as good as I look," you rejoined.

He pulled his smile into a tight line, eyes creasing. You thought maybe that was what he looked like when he was trying not to laugh. Suddenly you felt your bladder demand priority of attention.

"Well, I'm gonna...get ready. For the day," you motioned, quickly realizing you had nothing to change into, and slipped back into the little room behind the curtain.

Scanning the space, you noted your suitcase and bag against the wall. You filled your bag with the essentials and a change before popping back out into the other half of the room on your way to the bathroom. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that Namjoon glanced at you before looking down at his book again, and you ignored the tight feeling in your chest one more time.

Your mom had always said that a hot shower could make a person reborn, and by golly you figured she was right. You felt life seeping back into your limbs slowly but surely as the warm water poured over your body. As always, hot water and steam against white tile oiled cogs of your mind.

Clearly, the bond had served Namjoon well. You were anxious to know what a medical assessment would report. Your own exhaustion confused you, however. Wasn't the bond supposed to nourish you, rejuvenate you? When would you stop needing food? How often would you need to practice skinship now that you were bonded? And what would that look like? A thousand questions filled your mind as you massaged your scalp. You made a mental note to write a list of questions for the doctor.

Once you had finished your morning routine, you felt infinitely more prepared to face the day. You changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. As you shuffled back toward your room, you noticed Namjoon bent over the bonsai, tiny scissors in hand. A nurse was typing on a tablet on the other side of the bed.

"Um, Namjoon," you asked, as you paused.

He startled a bit as he looked up at you, dropping the little scissors and cursing under his breath. The nurse peeked over and when she had seemingly assessed that no damage had been done, she smirked.

"At least no bonsai limbs were lost this time," she murmured.

Namjoon slipped the scissors into a little leather pouch.

"Hilarious," he deadpanned, then turned his attention back to you, "Sorry, did you ask me something?"

"Actually," you blinked in surprise, "I was going to ask you to ask the nurse, but I guess I can ask her myself this time."

The nurse smiled at you.

"Ganhosanim, this is Y/n-ssi," Namjoon said, addressing the woman. She gave you a bow which you returned.

"Annyeonghaseyo," she greeted you, "I'm Nurse Cha and I'll be your attending on most days. Please feel free to speak to me in English," she smiled.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders. While you had been studying Korean furiously ever since your decision had been made, having medical personnel you could communicate with at this stage without having to rely on Namjoon to translate for you was a welcome relief.

"If you have a minute, I have some questions? Or, I will, once I write them down. Could I just put my stuff away and come right back?" You asked eagerly. She nodded, still typing away on the tablet. You dropped your bag beside your suitcase, which you tossed on the bed and unzipped to extract a pen and a notebook with three little bees embossed into the cover. You donned your slippers and crossed back over to Namjoon's side. He was sitting on the bed again, and nurse Yun was examining one of his arms. You plopped down in an armchair beside the bookshelf.

"Nice bonsai," you remarked, trailing your eyes over the intricate geometric patterns of its shallow stone pot.

"Nice journal," he replied. "Moleskin?"

You nodded, holding it up to show him the front.

"It has bees," you said with solemnity, as if the whimsy of the endearing was something to be taken quite seriously, and Namjoon hummed in grave assent. Nurse Cha glanced between you, a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

"You said you had some questions, Y/n-ssi?" She offered.

"Yes," you began, scribbling a few down in the pages in your lap before beginning. "Firstly wha- Oh! What happened to me yesterday? Did I pass out?" You interrupted yourself to ask.

"Yes," she replied. "While the bonding was successful, and the skinship was highly rejuvenating for Namjoon, it appears that you were giving more than you were getting from a physiological standpoint, and while the effect was still probably similar to you on a cellular level, you were disproportionate in your transfer of energy. We've put you on an IV drip for now to ensure you're getting the replenishment your body needs regardless of food intake."

You jotted down a few lines of notes.

"Okay, makes sense. Now, moving on to the food thing - we're still eating, right?"

Nurse Cha began typing on her tablet as she responded.

"Yes. However, there is great boidiversity as to when and what people start rejecting as far as food goes. The average point of solid food rejection begins around two weeks after bonding. Generally, bonded individuals are still able to consume water and distilled alcohols, though they become unable to experience taste."

"Does alcohol have the same...effect?" Namjoon spoke up from the bed.

"An intensified one, actually," she responded, "Being a bonded mate means rediscovering your tolerance, and caution is of course advised. We've actually taken blood panels to alert us of any food sensitivities you may have. These should be immediately eliminated from your diet, as the rejection symptoms can be more severe in cases of late-stage ingestion with these items. The doctor will be in later to review those results with you."

"Okay. And how often will we need to practice skinship, and are we going to need to initiate it ourselves or are we going to be on a schedule?"

"I was wondering about that too," Namjoon said, adjusting his beanie.

"The doctor will go over that with you as soon as he arrives in a little while as well. I know I'm scheduled to update your charts every six hours, so I'm sure there will be some guidance involved at first."

You quickly glanced up at Namjoon and then down at your lap. A warmth spread through your chest as you tried to keep your eyes on your notes and off of his bare arms. You were having those stupid urges to latch onto him again. Your hand twitched around your pen. You wondered what his thoughts were on your next session.

Just then, Dr. Na entered the room. He greeted both of you warmly and Nurse Cha took over relaying the consultation in English.

The oncologist was very optimistic about the effect of the soulmate bond on Namjoon, saying that his vitals had stabilized, his pain levels were lower than they'd been in weeks and the inflammation in his body had decreased significantly. He stressed that, while these were good signs, they were not a guarantee that the skinship was treating the cancer, and that they would have to take scans after a time to see if the tumors had were in fact shrinking.

He reviewed your blood panel results, letting you know that from that point forward you were to avoid consuming nightshades while communicating to Namjoon that he hadn't tested positive for any food sensitivities. He showed you a chart dictating when and how long you should practice skinship each day, beginning with a session immediately following the consultation. He cautioned you to alert medical staff if during a session you began to feel overly-drain, as they did not want you coming to the point of fainting again. You were removed from your IV drip.

After the doctor had taken his leave, Nurse Cha fixed you with additional monitors, instructed you both to strip down to your maximum level of comfortability for the session, and departed. Once you were down to bra and panties, you climbed up into the huge hospital bed to join Namjoon, who once again kept his gaze trained anywhere but your side of the bed as you slipped under the covers and pressed yourself into his side.

Suddenly it was as if you had slipped into a warm bath under the influence of champagne. You closed your eyes and sank into the incredible sensation of his touch. His skin was like a warm cup of tea on the coldest day of the year. Like the first refreshing moments of a plunge into cool water at the height of summer. It was everything wonderful all at once, and you were so caught up in the sensation that you were barely cognizant of a tiny moan escaping your lips.

Horrified, you bit down on your bottom lip and prayed to all that was sacred that Namjoon hadn't noticed. His immediate soft laughter, however, betrayed him, and you felt your face burning with embarrassment - beads of sweat pricking on your forehead as you covered your face with a different kind of groan.

"Sorry," you murmured, ruefully.

"Nah, I get it," Namjoon chuckled, his chest rumbling under your cheek. "If it feels as good for you as it does for me, then that's the correct response."

You allowed yourself to giggle a bit in turn.

"I'm glad it's already helping," you remarked, and you felt him turn his head as if he was looking down at you.

He was silent for a beat before addressing you again.

"Everything happened so quickly yesterday, I didn't even get a chance to thank you."

"For what?" you countered, even though you knew exactly where he was headed with this.

"For leaving your life behind and coming to Korea to give a stranger a chance at his. I'm going to spend the rest of my time making it up to you."

You felt your chest tighten. You pushed yourself up on one arm and turned to face him. The sheet fell down your upper body as you moved, but you were too intent on looking him in the face to notice.

"Namjoon, you're not a charity case. I didn't do this so that you would owe me something. This is a choice I made. All mine. So relieve yourself of any debt you may feel you owe me. We're bound by circumstance, but you're a free man in every sense of the word. I won't be a burden you bear any more than you wish to be one to me."

If you had been looking through his eyes, you would have seen yourself, pressed up out of the sheets with all the modesty of a sea nymph, your features glowing with the effects of the bond and fixed with a splendid kind of resoluteness and soft defiance. But, you saw it from your own, taking in the quiet shock on Namjoon's features that slowly morphed into something you couldn't place. Not yet. You didn't know him well enough.

After regarding you blinkingly, he looked at you with earnest eyes and gave a nod.

"I accept those terms," he assented, and you believed him.

You thought maybe you'd believe anything he said, and, suddenly aware of the bareness of your torso under the intentness of his gaze, you slipped back down against his side.

"I noticed you dropped the honorifics," he murmured teasingly.

You glanced back up at him.

"Oh...sorry, I'm not used to it. I can -"

"It's alright," he interjected, "I think we should be familiar. It will make things easier, right? Only if you want, though," he quickly added.

"Yeah, no, I agree," you answered, shifting to press your leg more fully against his, and smiling to yourself as you keyed up your next remark.

"And I'm only your noona by a little bit anyway, so no need to call me that..."

This time a loud laugh burst out of him that shook your head enough for you to roll away and shoot him a look as he brushed a hand over his eyes in amusement. You smiled as you took in his dimpled cheeks and crescent eyes, and nearly didn't notice the voice speaking in bemused and startled Korean at the mouth of the hall. It was Namjoon who looked up first.

"Yah!" He called in indignation and warning as you followed his gaze to catch but a glimpse of two young men, badly repressing snickers as they bolted back down the hall to the entry of the suite.

Namjoon sighed sharply and turned to you with and apologetic expression.

"I'm so sorry, those idiots are my friends. They're used to coming and going as they please to visit me - which, obviously now they can't just barge in unannounced."

He slipped out of bed, and you glanced away as he pulled on sweats and a shirt.

"I'll tell them to come back at a better time."

"No, no!" you protested, "Just let me get decent. I want to meet them."

Namjoon paused as he kicked on his slippers.

"You sure?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, yeah. I know we're still on skinship time, but, maybe we can just...hold hands? I mean, as long as you're okay with it..."

Namjoon's mouth slipped into a wry grin as he glanced down to the other end of the suite.

"Yeah, I'm fine with it. I apologize in advance if they can't be."

You gave a confused shrug as Namjoon picked up his phone and crossed into the vestibule area to give you the privacy to change. You pulled your leggings and sweatshirt back on and perched yourself cross-legged on the hospital bed, listening with amused anticipation as Namjoon spoke in exasperated Korean on the other side of the wall. You heard the door and three sets of footsteps accompanied by giggles and shushing, and then your soulmate emerged, all but herding the two young men preceding him into the room.

You immediately recognized the strapping, dark-haired one with the leporine smile as Jungkook, the young man who had accompanied Hybe's representation to visit you on Namjoon's behalf. The other young man you also recognized from internet images as one of the members, though you couldn't recall his name. He was shorter than Jungkook, though not by as much as he should have been due to the significance of his heeled boots. What he lacked in height he made up for in athletic build and voluptuously beautiful facial features. He shook his honey blonde hair out of his eyes, earrings tinkling as he regarded you with a coy smile.

"Ijjogeun Y/n-ieo. Y/n, this is Jungkook and Jimin," Namjoon said, gesturing to each of the members as they made polite bows.

"Annyeonghaseyo," you said, returning their bows deeply, "Mannaseo bangapseumnida - dasi mannaseo bangabseubnida, Jungkook-ssi."

Jungkook flashed a blinding smile, round eyes wide and sparkling.

"It's good to see you again too, noona," he answered in English. Namjoon's brow creased as he glanced between you and the young man you had been originally introduced to as the maknae of BTS.

"You've met?" he asked. You nodded.

"Jungkook was one of the people who came to meet me in the US when your company made the proposition," you explained. "He spoke very, very highly of you. His reference of your character was one of the major contributing factors toward my decision to come."

You smiled softly at Jungkook. Namjoon nodded, brow still drawn, as he pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek, jaw clenched and jutting forward, as he clapped the youngest on the shoulder. You thought Jungkook's eyes were just a bit glassy as the two shared a look that seemed to hold a lifetime of history. Jimin regarded the two with sentimentality before returning his gaze to you, again full of enigmatic mischief. The blonde took a step toward you, then turned on his booted heal, saying something to Namjoon in Korean.

You cocked your head to the side, glancing at your soulmate.

"He said I look a lot better already," Namjoon said, eyeing Jimin warily as the younger man continued speaking, flashing you a devilish grin. Jungkook pulled his pierced lower lip between his teeth as he glanced between Namjoon and Jimin. You looked again to Namjoon expectantly.

Awkwardness radiated from him as he deflected saying Jimin was just making fun, and he shot the younger man a look that unmistakably communicated his lack of amusement. Namjoon made another remark in Korean, and joined you back on the bed, hesitating only a moment before he took your hand in his.

You saw his shoulders sag in relief as he breathed a sigh through his nose at the contact. You had to restrain your own reaction, glancing down shyly as to avoid the two pairs of eyes trained in rapt curiosity on you from the end of the bed. Namjoon continued to speak with them, translating between you when your limited Korean wasn't sufficient, and gradually your awkwardness eased in the comfortable presence that emanated between your soulmate and his members.

As the visitors were about to take their leave, Jimin trained you with a newly serious look, leaning against the edge of the bed, and glancing at Namjoon as he spoke in what you could decipher was gratitude.

"He says they're all so grateful to you and glad to have you with us," Namjoon translated. You noticed his thumb slide over the back of your hand as he said it. So did Jimin, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he eyed where your digits were intertwined.

"Ah," you said awkwardly, "No thanks necessary, we're in this together, right?"

You pulled your hand from Namjoon's and in an attempt to raise your arm and give him a nonchalant pat on the back, you backhanded him directly in the face.

Namjoon's hand flew up to his cheek and the two younger members erupted in laughter. You apologized profusely, trying to make sure Namjoon could hear you over Jungkook's wheezing and Jimin's shrieks of what you were pretty sure was "oh shit, there are two of them". When Namjoon had assured you that he was perfectly fine and the other two had composed themselves, you said your goodbyes. As soon as they were out the door, Namjoon was apologizing.

"It's fine," you smirked with a shrug, "That's friends for you. I would have been concerned if they hadn't poked a little fun. I like them. I want to meet the rest of them."

Namjoon slipped back up onto the bed and intertwined his hand with yours as he glanced down, a pensive look on his face.

"There's a lot of people you need to meet," he said quietly, thoughtfully.

You studied him as he continued to look down at your joined hands.

"In fact," he continued, "There was someone I was hoping you could meet tomorrow. Someone we should sit down...and talk with."

You nodded, regarding him intently.

"Her name is Kim Hyung-seo," he continued, "She's my fiancée."

AN: Yeah, sorry to drop that at the end and peace out. 😁✌

Tag list: @butterymin @little-dark-empress @aretha170 @kamilamb @jlee97 @thephotoend @callmenoona25

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dirtybg3confessions · 4 months

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Blog Moderation FAQs

Hi everyone!

Every time we answer an ask about the queue/inbox situation we get several of the same suggestions in our inbox. While we truly appreciate those of you trying to be helpful, I wanted to take some time to address some of the suggestions and the reasons behind our position on said suggestions.

Have you considered closing the ask box for a while until you work through what you have?

No. With as many asks as there are in the box, it would result in the ask box being closed for quite some time, which we don't think is really what anyone wants!

Closing the box would allow for us to "catch up", but it also would mean potential dry periods of content.

Keeping the ask box open means we need to scroll forever to reach the old asks, but it also means that we are set to deliver consistent content for a while, and are never at risk for an empty queue when the inevitable drop in fandom interest hits.

Why don't you post more frequently?

Actually, we do! We've exploded recently, so many of you may not remember ye olden days of our blog's founder doing their best as a one person show and we got one post a day... ish. Then, when the ask box exploded to 100 asks (haha) they brought in the first round of new mods (including me!). During this time, we were able to build a solid queue. We were then able to post 5-6 times a day.

With a healthy queue and a healthy ask box, we were able to bump the post frequency to 12 times a day. Most of the first wave of mods worked through some asks and then largely went inactive. This is fine, it happens. After struggling to keep up a frequency of 12/day as a one person show once again, we recruited new mods with some activity guidelines.

To maintain a posting frequency of 12 times a day, each mod needs to add 3 posts to the queue a day, or 21 posts to the queue a week. We ask that every mod contributes 30 times a week, that way we have a healthy buffer of content for holidays, emergencies, and just general time away from the internet.

While the confessions are sent in by y'all and editing them in photoshop is a generally simple process, it still does take time. Time in the game to find and take the screenshots, time in the editing software to create the image, then posting and tagging appropriately. Those cursed edits y'all love so much take even more time.

We're all adults here. And your mods are too. They have lives off of tumblr, often complete with bills and day jobs. Honestly, less fun than the little horny blog, but *vague gestures towards capitalist hellscape*

For these reasons, posting 12 times a day is going to be a hard cap for the foreseeable future. In the most loving way possible: If you are submitting an ask now and expecting to see it a week or even a month from now, you are going to be sorely disappointed. Submit your ask and know that it will be appreciated by the community when its time comes.

"A confession is never late, nor is it early. A confession arrives precisely when it means to." - Elminster (probably)

Why don't you just get more mods?

Have you heard the phrase "too many cooks in the kitchen"? Every person added to a process adds another variable, and the more variables, the harder it is to deliver a consistent experience. Additionally, the goal is to find people who can stay pretty consistently active, which can be a hard ask for a lot of people. We're very grateful for the team that we have now, and we aren't seeking new mods at this time.

Why don't you post more confessions about (character/female/etc)?

We are a submissions blog. We work with the content we are given. You need to be the horny you wish to see in the world. I know in general there's a lack of confessions for female characters, and there's an analysis to be made about how different gender/sexual identities interact with fandom and how that affects the content available in communities for consumption, but I'm not the person to make it.

Thank you all for continuing to be amazing, it is truly an honor to serve 🫡

#not confessions #faq #mod tri

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writingforstraykids · 2 months

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Addicted to you Chp.20

Pairing: Minchan (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 5443

Summary: Back in public Minho tries to build up the courage to open up about what really happened without revealing too much. His friends support him every step of the way, hearing some things for the first time as well. Chan has to decide how open he really wants to be and walks the fine line of supporting his boyfriend and keeping their relationship a secret. Especially after Minho's first performance doesn't go as planned.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, panic attack, mention of throwing up, dizziness, anxious!min, protective!chan

A/N: Looking back at this series, this is by far one of my most cherished chapters. Not only has the group learned to stick together when one of them isn't exactly stable, but also Chan and Minho finally pull at the same string. I love how the growth in both of them has been visible for you guys and I do hope this chapter proves it once more. We're almost at the end, which makes me a little nostaglic because chapter one was one of my first posts back in October (we haven't missed a week🤭). I hope you enjoy it, I'll see you next week for the last one (sobbing)🖤

Chp.19| Chp. 21

All I know is you saved me and you know it Saved me and you know it Always thought I was hard to love ' Til you made it seem so easy Easy ~ Camila Cabello

During dinner, Chan's hand kept slipping beneath the table, resting on Minho's thigh or grabbing his hand. Now that he knew, he wondered how he hadn't realized Felix and Changbin were acting the same way he and Minho had been. The secret glances, hands brushing against each other in passing, the soft smiles they shared when no one was watching. Jisung suddenly got everyone's attention. "As we all know, we have two couples amongst our group," he announced, quiet enough only for them to hear. "The funniest part about it is Chan and Changbin thinking they've been discreet, whilst Minho and Felix knew damn well the opposite is the case."

Seungmin blinked at Chan. "You thought what? You've been drooling over Minho since we debuted."

"Don't even start," their leader sighed heavily and hung his head, not noticing Minho's surprised glance.

“As you all know, the rest of us have our own thing going on,” Jisung added.

"See? No reason to panic about telling the kids," Minho told Chan kindly and patted his back. "We're all grownups here."

"Are we, though?" Felix giggled.

"Now that we all know, no one has to sneak around the house anymore to be with one another," Seungmin concluded Jisung's announcement.

"Amen," Felix agreed.

"Fuck me. The house is gonna turn into a mess," Chan sighed and buried his face in his hands.

"You think you're the only one allowed to have fun?" Jeongin asked sassily. He received a warning glare from his leader. “Also, what makes you think it wasn’t a mess before you knew?”

"I could use a drink," Minho announced cheerfully and waved over a waiter. "Anyone else? I'm paying."

Chan chuckled softly and agreed. He could use one himself. Once everyone seemed to busy themselves with side conversations, Chan leaned a little closer to Minho. "You're so pretty, it's unreal," he whispered in his ear. Minho blushed softly.

"Stop it," he chuckled.

"I mean it. I've never seen someone as beautiful as you," he confessed and watched him bite his lower lip. Right, praises were something he had a thing for. "My beautiful kitten."

Minho gasped softly, his pupils widening at the pet name. "Channie, stop," he whispered lovingly. "Not here."

"Why not?" he asked, smirking softly.

“You know damn well why not,” he rolled his eyes fondly.

Minho stared at his plate, pushing its contents from left to right for the thousandth time. He was feeling incredibly sick because he was so nervous about their press conference in a few hours.

"Minho hyung? Aren't you hungry?" Jisung asked gently. Minho snapped out of his thoughts.

He realized all of them were staring at him and smiled weakly, pushing his plate away. "I'm too anxious right now," he admitted as he reached for his water. But as he brought it closer to his lips, his grip around his glass got tighter as he noticed his hand trembling.

"Can we do anything to help?" Felix spoke up next to him softly.

"I don't think so," he shook his head and chewed on his lower lip. "I guess now that it's time, I'm scared there'll be consequences for you guys. It’s not exactly a great way to kick off promotions."

"Whatever it is, we'll stand behind you, Min," Chan assured him.

Minho met his eyes across the table and smiled weakly. "Are you saying this as my boyfriend or the leader of this group?"

"Minho," Chan said softly.

"You should put the group first today, Chan. We both know that," he told him kindly. Chan lowered his gaze at the table for a moment. "I'm not afraid of the consequences because I know if I keep going like this, it'll end much worse for me,” he told them and rubbed his face tiredly. “I just don’t want you all to suffer from the news.”

"They either get all eight of us or none of us," Changbin spoke up.

"I'm sick of people trying to separate us," Hyunjin agreed.

"We have your back, Minho hyung. There's nothing they can do about that," Seungmin agreed.

"Fuck them all," Jeongin concluded with a grin.

"Even if we didn’t worry about the consequences, Chan doesn't function without you..as we all saw repeatedly," Jisung commented dryly.

“Thanks, Hannie,” Chan gently rolled his eyes.

Minho chuckled softly at all of them and rolled his eyes playfully. "When you put it that way, what's there to worry about."

Felix smiled and looked at him. "Can we give you a hug?"

"Fine," he sighed softly, secretly longing for nothing else than some physical comfort right now. He got up, and all of them gathered around him in a big group hug. Minho smiled softly and buried his face in Chan's chest as the warmth of his members finally gave him some comfort. "I love you guys," he told them after a moment. "I'm sorry for all that shit I'm putting you through currently."

"Stop it, Minho hyung. We all have rough moments being in this industry," Changbin comforted him.

"That's why there are seven others who have our back at all times," Hyunjin agreed.

Once they reached their destination and had to enter the room where they'd be interviewed, Minho felt nauseous all over again. The staff would possibly kill him, or maybe he'd just get in serious trouble. Their names were announced, and they all left his side one by one, taking their places. Minho's stomach turned once more as he saw his place. Changbin, Hyunjin, Chan, Seungmin, and Jeongin were sitting on higher chairs in the back in that order. Felix was in the front row on the left, Jisung on the right, and the place in their midst was empty. They weren’t joking when they said they'd always be around him, protecting him. Minho's stage name was announced and he gave himself a mental push before walking out on stage, putting on a perfectly convincing, practiced smile. He sat down and nervously adjusted his suit jacket.

They started out easy with some general questions about their next comeback, upcoming concerts, and already published songs. Minho didn't have to talk much and was able to fool around with the boys a little. He carefully adjusted his glasses as an interviewer called his name.

"You've been on a break recently after collapsing on stage. Our readers are wondering what you think about said event and how you plan to continue?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.

"As my team has already explained, I was injured and overworked at the event in question, which is why I collapsed and-," Minho stopped in his tracks, realizing this was the moment. He shouldn't just answer with the scripted version of what the staff had written up for him in case of such a question. He cleared his throat and straightened up. "Actually, I would like to make my own statement if you allow me to."

"Please go on," she encouraged him.

"About two months before this performance, my mental health was starting to get worse. I had trouble taking care of and trusting in myself. It got better whenever I was around my members. At some point, I defined myself through my performance only. When I got injured, I had to take a step back, which made this much harder for me. I got into a massive fight with one of the most important people in my life, which really took a toll on me," Minho said and saw some staff members in the back looking at each other nervously. "I had trouble eating, I didn't get enough sleep, and I practiced too much and too long. Because of that, my injury got worse, and I let it happen, thinking the pain I felt was the punishment I deserved for not being able to perform. I was awful to be around, and I didn’t treat the ones I call my family well, pushing them away when all they wanted was to help. I didn't have the resources to be there for them because I barely had any left for myself, which I'm very sorry for," he continued as pictures were taken of him, and he knew there were live recordings as well.

No going back now.

"I didn't collapse because I was injured or tired. My mental health and body couldn't keep up with what I was doing anymore. I've spent two days unconscious at the hospital, which is what made my members decide I needed to take a break. I don't regret collapsing because I wouldn't have stopped this harmful behavior otherwise and-," he stopped as his voice started shaking and swallowed hard, trying to collect himself. Suddenly, Felix took his hand and smiled at him encouragingly while Jisung rested his hand on his knee. Chan followed his heart and wrapped his arms around him from behind, ensuring he knew they were there. Minho inhaled softly and rested his hand on Chan's arm, steadying himself. "I know I’ll make myself vulnerable by saying this, but I think it's important we start normalizing that your beloved idols are humans, too. This is why I want to announce that after everything that happened, I’ve decided to see a therapist. I'm not ashamed of it, and if I want to keep being part of this family and doing my best for our fans, I need to take care of myself better," he concluded and exhaled softly.

"We want to announce that we stand behind Minho and fully support his decision. We ask our fans to show our Minho how much he means to us all and how much he is worth. Please be patient with us during this process," Chan spoke up behind him, noticing how much Minho was shaking, glancing at the staff. "Thank you so much for being here. This will be all for today."

They all got up, making sure to surround Minho as they left the stage. Minho felt dizzy and flinched a little as suddenly two of their press advisors approached them, saying his name. They seemed ready to call him out for his shit. Chan wrapped his arm around him protectively and told them to back off, not caring that reporters were still taking pictures. Finally, they made it backstage. Chan stepped in front of him, removing his microphone for him. "Give me a moment," he mumbled as his stomach protested, quickly pushing through them and making his way to the bathroom. He ripped the door open to one of the stalls and crouched down, throwing up. All the anxiety and nervousness got to him, combined with the realization that, for the first time, he did the opposite of what he had been advised to do. Once his stomach had calmed down, Minho carefully pushed himself up and sniffled softly, trying to swallow a panic attack threatening to creep in. He pushed the door open and slowly stepped outside, flinching heavily as he saw his friends standing at the sink, all watching him worriedly. "I can't even throw up in peace?" he joked tiredly and made his way over to a sink, shakily turning on the water. He rinsed his mouth and washed his hands, thanking Hyunjin quietly, who gave him some paper towels.

"Do you feel better after telling the truth?" Seungmin asked.

"I'm glad it's not a secret anymore," he told them, leaning against the sink. "But besides that, no. I'm a minute away from a full-blown panic attack," he admitted, knowing there was no use hiding it. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his knees and inhaling shakily. "They'll kill me, won't they?"

Jisung was the first one to react and stepped in front of him. "Deep breaths, Minho hyung. You'll be okay." He hugged him as he stood up straight again and soothingly rubbed his back. The others let them, knowing Jisung often found comfort in Minho when he was panicking, so it fit for him to try and return the favor. Jeongin grabbed a few paper towels, made them wet, and wrung them out before carefully placing them on the back of Minho's neck. Felix stepped next to them and gently ran his hand through his hair as Jisung guided Minho in his breathing.

Once he had calmed down, Chan took over, pulling him into a tight hug and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'm so proud of you. That was very brave."

"I don't feel very brave right now," he gave back, making his friends chuckle. He barely noticed Changbin removing the paper towels from his neck and leaning his forehead against Chan's. "Let's go back to the hotel, please?"

“We could stay in for the night and order takeout,” Jeongin proposed. “We’ll just meet up in one room and order there.”

Minho smiled thankfully and nodded. “That would be nice.”

"May we ask what sent you down the spiral of mental issues?" their interviewer spoke up, clearly talking to Minho. They were currently at a radio station, giving an interview about their upcoming album. Of course, the press conference from yesterday would be a topic; Minho had expected nothing less.

Minho shifted in his seat and thought for a moment. He was aware of the camera moving a little closer on him as they’d also film and upload the whole session. "As I've said, the hate, the injury, lack of sleep, and slowly stop eating altogether have all played their part in this process. It’s been weeks of feeling like shit, and I’m glad I got through the worst of it by now."

“Many of our listeners thought it was very brave of you to open up like that since we usually don’t see this happening,” she told him with a kind smile. “That must’ve been scary.”

“It was. It still is,” he chuckled, and Jisung flashed him a gentle smile across the table. He knew how it was.

“Nevertheless, most people out there are very grateful you did that. How does that make you feel?” she asked curiously.

“It’s a relief to hear that people can relate to my situation and don’t look down on me because of it. Also, if me opening up about my struggles helps someone, I don’t get why it is an issue to do so,” he said.

“I think a lot of people out there can relate to the feeling of trying to function when you actually feel like giving up,” Felix added.

“We’ve all been there before,” Seungmin agreed. “Maybe not as heavily, but we’ve all certainly had our struggles in the industry.”

“I think what made it so difficult was seeing Minho hyung go through it,” Hyunjin said gently. “Usually, we come to him with these issues, so no one really knew how to help.”

“Which didn’t stop them from trying, though,” Minho said reassuringly, smiling at him. “I just haven’t been so easy to deal with.”

“How has this situation been for you as a leader?” she asked, turning to Chan, sitting beside Minho quietly.

“Oh, he struggled the most with it,” Changbin answered for him, and they all chuckled. “Minho’s always been his partner in leading the team with him.”

“That was certainly missed, yeah,” Chan laughed, winking at Minho. "I realized how much I rely on him in certain areas and I know I should've stepped up more."

"What about that fight you mentioned? Was it with one of the members or someone else?" she asked Minho.

"That was me," Chan spoke up before Minho could answer. "I've been very difficult to deal with, and Minho didn't give up on me, which made things grow tense. I've accused him of complete bullshit to save myself and been very harsh towards him, which didn’t help him deal with his own issues."

"But, we’ve all talked it out and are doing better than ever," Minho added with a nervous smile.

"I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what do you mean you were difficult to deal with?" she asked. Everyone grew quiet for a moment, tension slowly rising at the question. She glanced at them, apologetically. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured her with a warm smile and exchanged a look with Minho, who looked back at him questioningly. “I’m just trying to figure out how to start.”

“You don’t have to go in depth,” Minho assured him gently.

Chan inhaled softly before grabbing his hand beneath the table. He knew it could be seen on camera, but he couldn’t care less now. "I've been depressed, shutting everyone out for two weeks. I let some things get to me, and Minho was the only one I let near me. I didn't explain exactly how I was feeling, but he was there to hold me when I couldn't go on anymore and broke down crying repeatedly," Chan said, and everyone grew quiet. Their friends looked at Minho and Chan worriedly, hearing for the first time how much Minho actually dealt with. Minho swallowed hard. He could tell by the sound of his voice alone that Chan was having a hard time talking about it. "I've been dragging him down with me and my issues. After our fight, we both dealt with it differently. But none of us were feeling well. I’d never say I was doing as bad as him those past few weeks. Nevertheless-," his voice broke, and the grip on his hand grew tighter.

"Chan," Minho said gently, turning a little and seeing the tears in his boyfriend's eyes.

Chan stopped for a moment, gathering himself as he found peace in Minho's soft coffee eyes. "Nevertheless, Minho saved my life even though he couldn’t stand being in a room with me at that time. And I'll be forever grateful for that. I gave up on everyone, including myself. A few weeks before Minho’s incident, I accidentally sent my goodbye message to Minho after spontaneously deciding to leave the group. I didn’t feel like I could lead them anymore and thought they’d do better without me. I knew they had Min, who would do his best to carry them through it," he said, his voice shaking as a tear ran down his cheeks. Minho blinked softly as tears brimmed his own eyes and swallowed hard, knowing he had to be strong for them in this moment. Chan wiped away the tears and exhaled shakily. "He climbed up to my balcony, even though he’s deathly scared of heights, to stop me, thinking I was talking about something else, and I-," he trailed off before holding Minho's hand up. "So yes, for everyone asking why I called him love when he collapsed or gifted him this ring, it's because I really, really love him, and I want him to know that."

Minho smiled at him and squeezed his hand. He hadn’t expected him to be that open.

“Gosh, it sounds like you two have been through a lot lately,” she said with a compassionate smile. “Feel free to step away for a bit if you need a moment,” she told them, seeing how hard Chan was fighting back tears.

Chan exchanged a look with Minho, debating if they should take her up on that. Minho got up, still holding his hand. “Come on, Channie hyung,” he said gently, placing his headset on the table.

Minho pulled him close as soon as they were outside, his heart breaking a little at how tightly Chan clung to him, hiding his face in his shirt. “You did great, Channie love. I’m so proud of you,” he told him quietly.

“You’re right, this is scary,” he said quietly.

“I got you,” he promised with a gentle smile, fondling his hair. “I love you so much. Thank you for having my back in there,” he whispered.

Chan pulled back and smiled as Minho wiped his cheeks for him. “I love you too, baby,” he told him quietly. He held up his pinky finger for him. “You and me against the world?”

Minho’s face softened as he returned the gesture, linking them together. “Always…Let’s go back in?”

“May I get a kiss first?” he asked.

Minho glanced around quickly before nodding. He connected their lips to a short but loving kiss and gently patted his back. “Alright, come on.”

The others watched them leave before turning back to their interviewer. “That is quite some story,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s been a lot going on the past few weeks,” Jisung agreed.

“I suppose that hasn’t been easy for you all either?”

“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Felix told her. “Those two have formed a very deep bond over the past few years, so we all knew they could do this once they started to get along again.”

“A very deep bond? Do you mean like very good friends? Or are the rumors true, and there’s more?”

“You could call them our parents by now. These two are so in sync it’s annoying,” Jeongin lightened the mood as they came back inside and sat down.

“As charming as always,” Chan commented dryly.

“We’ve been blessed with a few chaotic kids. It’s only natural that we had to step up and lead them,” Minho winked at Jeongin, who stuck out his tongue at him. “See?” he asked, making everyone laugh.

"Your friends have been telling me about that deep bond you share. Our listeners would love to know if the rumors are true?" she asked and Minho looked at Chan.

Chan looked almost a little anxious as he met his eyes, swallowing hard at the pure love and adoration in his boyfriend's doe eyes. Minho smiled gently, taking Chan's hand and squeezing it. "Chan means a lot to me, which is why fighting with him had taken such a toll on me. We're a team and we work best when we're together," Minho said, keeping his eyes on Chan. "I love him, that sums it up well."

"Platonic love or-?" she asked curiously.

Minho could tell Chan wasn't quite ready to open up that much today and simply smiled, still not looking away from him. "No comment."

Chan chuckled, finger brushing over his ring delicately. He turned toward their interviewer, taking a deep breath. "As I said, I love him too. That's all I have for you right now."

Felix and Changbin grinned as they watched them, Jisung exchanged a fond glance with Hyunjin and Jeongin winked at Seungmin. They all knew damn well how very obvious those statements have been without saying much or admitting anything. At the end of the day, their hyungs knew how to dance along the fine line.

"Well…I wish you the best of luck then to keep what you have right now," she said with a knowing smile.

A few weeks later

Minho adjusted his newest stage outfit and sighed after cracking his neck. He was tired and already longed to be wrapped up in Chan's arms and back in bed. He had gotten through most of his performances for the day already and was about to perform for the last time. "Can I borrow that one for a moment?" he asked Felix, who was walking past him with a fan.

"You can keep it," Felix told him, and Minho nodded thankfully.

He closed his eyes as the cool air hit his face and took a few deep breaths. His head was hurting a little from all the noise, so he made his way outside their dressing room, leaning against the wall.

Only a few seconds later, the door opened again. "Are you okay?" Chan asked caringly.

Minho nodded and flashed him a small smile. "I'm okay. It's too loud in there," he told him.

"Understandable," he nodded agreeingly and rolled his eyes fondly. "But seriously, are you sure you’re feeling?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Your knee's alright?" he asked.

"It has been for a while now, yes," he told him amused.

"You're not feeling dizzy or anything?" Chan made sure, and Minho shook his head.

"I'm overwhelmed, that's all. Today there have been a lot of bright lights and loud noises. I'm getting a bit of a headache, but I'll get through the last performance and relax later," he assured him.

Chan stepped in front of him and gently massaged the back of his neck before going up to his temples. Minho moaned softly at the relieving touch and closed his eyes. "I'm proud of you, baby. You've worked hard today."

"Thank you," he smiled shyly and opened his eyes again. "I missed being on stage like this."

"I know you did," he nodded and kissed his forehead. "Have I told you how much your new hair color suits you yet?" he asked, brushing back Minho's currently dark purplish hair.

"Only a million times," he winked at him. "I like it too, no worries," he giggled.

"So pretty." Chan gave him a short kiss. "Can I walk you to the stage?"

"Sure," he smiled sweetly and laughed as their friends all came outside.

"We wouldn't want to miss your last performance," Jisung smiled.

"You guys are so sweet," Minho told them and took Chan's hand. "Alright, let's go."

"Good luck," Chan told him right before he left, and Minho took his place on stage.

He was feeling alright throughout the performance, hitting his notes beautifully and dancing smoothly as always.

"Gosh, he sounds so good," Jisung beamed excitedly as Minho hit a high note.

"Is he okay, though?" Felix frowned softly.

"Right? It looked like he stumbled a bit," Jeongin nodded nervously.

"He's shaking," Seungmin added.

"Please shut up," Chan said anxiously, seeing all of it himself. His eyes haven’t left Minho the entire performance.

Minho knew the song was coming to an end and felt relieved, knowing he'd soon be back home. He stepped forward at the end and panted heavily, finally feeling how exhausted his body actually was. He squinted his eyes as the audience began to blur in front of him, and felt dizziness taking over his body. Not again. Minho pulled his earpiece out as a high-pitched tone rang through his ear and clutched his chest, pained. Fuck. He nervously glanced to the stage exit, debating if he should risk staying where he was or getting off stage before another debacle.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Changbin asked worriedly.

"He doesn't look good," Hyunjin agreed. They all glanced at Chan, who was anxiously chewing on his lower lip. The moment Minho sank down to his knees, head hanging low as he tried to hide his pain, Jisung, Felix, and Changbin held Chan back.

"Hey, let me go! He needs help!" he protested.

"Chan hyung, you can't storm on stage now, okay?" Seungmin told him.

"There's staff already out there to help him," Jeongin pointed out as someone brought him water.

"I told them it would be too much for him," Chan said weakly.

"We know, he knows as well," Felix said calmingly.

"Fuck it, I'm getting him off stage," Chan groaned and pushed them off before making his way on stage.

"Fucks sake, Chan," Felix groaned.

Minho looked up at him, surprised as Chan was suddenly kneeling down next to him and cupping his face. "Relax," he whispered, noticing the anxiety in Chan's eyes. "We're on stage, angel."

"You got dizzy?" he asked gently, and Minho nodded.

"It was a little too much," he told him tiredly. "My body hurt and gave up on me for a minute."

"You think you can get up?" he asked, and Minho nodded bravely, letting Chan help him up. Chan wrapped his arm around him tightly and led him off the stage. As soon as they were backstage, Chan snapped at one of their staff members. "I told you it would be too much!"

"Chan," Minho cut him off sharply, and everyone looked at him worriedly. "I said I would be fine. I overestimated myself, and my body showed me that I was not ready for this yet. It's fine, let it be."

"You wouldn't have done it if they hadn't suggested it. You're trying to satisfy them again," he told him.

Minho tiredly rubbed his hurting head and looked at the staff members. "Can you get the car, please? I need a break." They nodded at him and quickly called their car.

"Wrong place, wrong time, Chan hyung," Jisung told him gently, letting Minho brace himself on his shoulder. "Come on, let's sit down somewhere until the car's here." Seungmin came to help and wrapped his arm around his waist, steadying him.

Felix gently rested his hand on Chan's arm. "He needs his boyfriend now, not our leader," he told him softly, and Chan glanced at him nervously.

"I just want him to be okay again," he confessed weakly.

"We know," Changbin told him kindly.

"You can still talk about schedules later. Right now, he needs a hug and you telling him he did amazing today," Hyunjin told him.

"Go on," Jeongin gave him a gentle push.

Chan groaned softly but did as they said and walked over to them. He crouched in front of Minho, and his heart fluttered at his boyfriend's tired smile. "Sorry, I lost my temper back there."

"You were worried, it’s alright," he told him kindly, not noticing Seungmin and Jisung leaving them alone. Minho gently reached out for him and fondled his hair. "I promise you, I'm okay. Just very tired."

"I'm sorry I got scared for a second," he confessed and sat on the sofa next to him. Minho turned slightly and pressed his forehead against Chan's. Their hands found each other, and Minho squeezed it gently.

"I'm here, I’m still conscious," he promised.

Chan pulled him into his lap and hugged him close as Minho sank against him with a soft sigh. "You were amazing today. I'm really proud of you," he told him.

"Thanks, Channie hyung," he smiled sweetly and closed his eyes. "I'm so tired," he said softly.

"You can sleep. I'll take care of everything else," he assured him. Minho didn't need a second invitation.

Chan carried him to the car later, protecting his head as he leaned down to sit him inside. He sat down next to him, letting him sleep on his shoulder. He carried him inside once they reached home. At home, he laid him down on his bed and filled the bathtub with warm water to soothe his hurting body. He got him undressed and into the tub, bracing him as he very gently washed his hair and body. Minho was only half awake throughout the process, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Chan got him dressed again before carrying him downstairs and sitting on the sofa with him on his lap. Felix handed him a plate with some food, and Chan started feeding Minho slowly. Minho was barely able to keep his eyes open but made sure to eat a little, knowing he needed the energy. He grew heavy against him and fell asleep as soon as Chan started running his hand through his hair.

The others all made sure to eat quietly and only talked with their voices lowered to give him some rest. Later, they put on a movie and gathered on the sofa around them, knowing if Minho woke up, he'd feel better seeing them continuing their day as always. He woke up later with a massive headache and winced softly as he moved on top of him.

Chan looked down worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"Headache," he groaned, melting into him as Chan massaged his scalp and temples. Felix came over with a glass of water and a pain pill for him, which he took, thankfully. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep again, curling up in Chan's arms.

Chan kept on lovingly massaging his head for a while and smiled softly as Minho grew calm again. The others all slowly went to bed until it was just Chan, Jisung, and Minho left.

"You need help carrying him upstairs?" Jisung offered quietly. Chan glanced down at Minho sleeping peacefully on his chest.

"I think we'll just stay on the sofa for the night," he shook his head. "I don't want to wake him up again."

"Alright," he nodded and gently patted Chan's shoulder. "Sleep well, Chan hyung."

"You too, Hannie," he smiled and watched him leave. Chan got comfortable on the sofa and pulled Minho down with him, who stirred in his sleep. "It's fine, keep sleeping," he told him quietly, fondling his hair. Minho cuddled into him, and soon Chan fell asleep right after.

Chp.19| Chp. 21

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