#automatic passenger counting system

[taegularities]

you're okay | myg (m)

Summary: Let it hurt and burn. Let it out; and then let it fade away. Let it heal. Yoongi can't lift all your burdens, but he has taught you at least this much over the years.

➳ pairing: Yoongi x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: s2l/est. rel.; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: this one's heavy :') pov switches, switching between past and present, reference to the d-day documentary, mental health issues, therapy, depression and anxiety, mentioned unaliving attempt, mentions of fainting, slight mention of SA, implied panic attack, lots of trauma, lots of sadness, healing journey/healing with yoongi, feelings of loneliness, feeling unworthy, oc is very unsure and thinks she's a burden, tears and crying; explicit sexual content: (brief) protected sex, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, kissing/making out. please heed the warnings <3 ➳ word count: 11.5k ➳ a/n: hi hi. not the average taegularities fic, i think. once again, please do note the warnings before reading. it's okay if it's too heavy and you need breaks – take care of yourself. it's a very very personal piece that i just needed to get out of my system. yoongi's snooze inspired it; i still cry when i listen to it – i'm thankful it saved me in so many ways, and i hope you feel the same way about this fic. i love you all; here's to healing and living 💕 ➳ listen to: snooze by agust d ft. ryuichi sakamoto & woosung 🤍

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs

The weather changes at warp speed these days.

When you left just this morning, it was raining buckets. The shower barely allowed a glimpse at the sky, grey as smoke; ominous clouds were bursting, fast cars and busy passengers on the sidewalk rushing through the world.

You were one of them, not necessarily impressed by the downpour. But you smiled when someone halted, stretching an arm to force the doors of the bus open until you were inside.

The tender gesture lit up your gloomy morning, a proof of how the world isn’t all misery and ruin. For a couple minutes and hours, that stranger’s smile lifted the weight off your leather jacket clad shoulders. You were burdened by nothing but the bag hanging on your side.

But now, the same jacket is draped over your arm and feels much heavier than before; stripped off when the sun broke through the clouds around the afternoon. The additional weight gives you grief; you’re relieved when you hang it onto a rack, step out of your shoes and drag yourself to the bathroom.

God, all actions seem so passive these days.

Passive and automatic, just half-conscious. You’re fatigued and lost in your head. Frankly, you need your bed. You hate that you still need to shower. You wish you could skip that part and still keep your body healthy and clean.

And as you stand under the water, shifting your balance to the right leg and back, you realise that another work day is over and another one is coming. Interactions, productivity, the craving your bed. You need the weightlessness.

So much so that you soon feel the knot in your chest, intensifying, and the heat of the water combines with an uncomfortable breathlessness until your knees bend a little. Immediately, you plant your palms against the bathroom tiles, taking a seat on the shower floor.

You cross your legs; the thought of your father is immediate because he always taught you to take a seat wherever once you start feeling dizzy. Since that one adolescence day when you passed out and hurt your chin, you have followed this advice and prevented worse.

Your head spins for a moment, your chest tight; and you hear a dull thump. There’s an odd rustle in your ears, mixed with the sound of the dripping water; so you don’t notice the call of your name right away.

Keeping your answer absent for another moment, you only wrap your arms around your chest, just to keep yourself whole. You feel like your body might fracture into a dozen pieces.

The shampoo bottle that presumably caused the thump before rolls against you, and you gasp in uncomfortable surprise; immediately hear another slurred, “Hey! Are you okay? What’s going on?”

It's him; he’s always worried. Maybe that’s what you’ve been struggling with so much lately. The fact that you never suffer alone whenever the weight on your shoulder and brain drags you down too far.

A worried voice chimes again, breaking the sound of the shower jet, and you suddenly become hyper aware of his concern, rushing to finally get out. You exclaim a reassuring, “All good!” before the silence can prolong or betray you.

His calls stop, probably relieved when you add another, “Coming.”

You envelop your body in your towel; just a moment later, he knocks. You would’ve opened even if he hadn't.

Yoongi stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and breathes in the sauna-esque air. His mouth turns into a surprised circle, and he blinks before he blows out a breath and states, “You showered hot today, huh?”

“Mhh,” you hum, “the sun never keeps me from doing so. Feels good.”

He smiles, watches your lotioned hands hydrate your skin, very slowly and very delicately. When you sigh in something he interprets as fatigue, he asks, “Do you need help?”

Four simple words, but they soothe something in your wrinkly, grey brain. The knot of stress loosens just a little, and you sigh deeply, telling him, “Yes, please.”

He doesn’t hesitate to step behind you, picking up the pink, wooden brush lying on the laundry basket next to you to release the knots in your wet hair. For a couple of minutes, you indulge in the massage; and then wallow in the feeling of his hands on your face, taking over to do your skincare.

And then, gentle as he is, he helps you into your clothes. You feel somewhat pathetic, but most of all, thankful — anything to get through the night.

“You all set?” he asks once he’s done, palms on your shoulders. You touch the digits of his left hand, leading them to your lips to kiss them softly before you nod.

You follow him into the living room, detecting the still present sunrays protruding through the spots that the sheer curtains don’t filter. It’s not dark yet, but the light is slowly fading. The star is preparing to drown behind the horizon, dusk in motion.

The pretty hues give you a brief yet strange burst of motivation; often, you fear the night more despite its serene reputation. Too dark, too haunting.

Yoongi has already set the table; he starts to ladle the sundubu-jjigae into your bowl, rice in another smaller dish next to it. You sit; you feel endlessly indebted and silently terrified at once. The food looks amazing, so the taste isn’t the problem.

Your boyfriend is a good cook, and you thank the deities every day for his existence. It was much harder to get by and assemble a meal when you lived alone.

But your expression is still the opposite of what it’s supposed to be, and when he sees it, he asks, “You good? Have you eaten yet?”

“No.”

“Then eat a little, okay? As much as you can.”

You gulp, oblige. You know your body calls for it, so you listen to it, chewing a couple bites, even though it feels impossible to actually swallow. God; you need to stop your chest and stomach from trying to convince you that everything is heavy.

Your clothes, your heart, your thoughts.

You know it isn’t true. It drives you mad when your own brain proves this treacherous, attempting to lie to you like this.

Then again, energy dwindles faster these days. Your body knows; maybe that’s why you feel tired. You need to sleep — maybe that could help you feel a bit more feathery.

But shit, you wish there was a more efficient charger for human beings than sleep, so you could be productive. Your mind won’t let you sleep properly anyway.

“Is it good?” Yoongi asks, interrupting your thoughts. He’s always the first to notice when you’re overexerting yourself, even just at dinner.

“It’s very good,” you respond truthfully, even raising your voice to make yourself sound livelier, “as I’d expect from you.”

“Then I’m glad. Thought I’d make you something good, since you worked longer.”

“Always attentive, aren’t you?”

“I try to be.” His spoon drops in his bowl, and he reaches out, touching your cheek just long enough for your heart to stir. “How was work?”

Hm…

You don’t remember too well. You know you went there at least, and you know you did whatever you had to — but you can’t recall details. So all you say without dousing the atmosphere in negativity is, “As always.”

“Was Nayeon at work today?”

“Nope,” you tell him, sending wordless, good vibes towards your best work buddy. “Still sick. A stomach bug, I think. I really hope she feels better soon.”

“Sana again then?”

“Yeah, spent most of the day with her. She’s always so sweet, though… I should talk to her more often.”

You dig into your rice again, trying it with a bigger bite this time. Then, you shake your head in apology, looking back at Yoongi as you ask, “Ah, I’m sorry, baby… how was work for you?”

“As always,” he echoes, “thought of you a lot.”

“Mhm… obsessed much?” you jest, trying a little beam.

“You know me.”

That’s it. You nod; you understand the weakness of your smile, so you lower your head altogether. He sees; of course he does. Yet, he waits and watches you toy with your food. You know the question is approaching before it lands, “Another low?”

Another low…

You could cry. You could burst into tears immediately if you didn’t feel so… empty. A vacant soul, pieces coloured by nothing but him. Yoongi sparks the magic most of the time, even drilling through the numbness.

“Yeah,” you whisper, not crying yet, but the corners of your mouth drop. “It’s been a while.”

“Months, yes? Which is great, my love.” His voice is so mellow, deep, like an antidote. “You’re doing really well.”

“Yeah.”

You are. Because at one point in your life, you used to feel this way all the time. Ever since you found somebody to rely on, someone who listens, you’ve gotten a bit better. He puts you together as if he’s resolving a dispersed puzzle.

But certain phases at certain times still hit you unexpectedly, like a revved up truck.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yoongi offers.

“There’s nothing really to talk about…”

“Okay. Do it if you need to, though, okay? Eat a little more?”

You do. Fuck, you feel so babied sometimes; you wonder if he discerns things like this, too. That he isn’t really taking care of and loving his girlfriend, but rather babysitting a broken child.

You whoosh the thought away with a blink, finishing more than half of your meal before you set the cutlery aside. You down the last bite with cold water, sauntering to the bathroom, and then meet Yoongi on your bed.

He probably already put the food in the fridge and the dishes in the dishwasher; he must’ve operated rapidly to be here already, awaiting you. The laptop is open and its screen bright, and you know without stepping onto the mattress that he’s opened YouTube.

Less for him, more for you.

If he wanted to spend the remaining minutes of the night scrolling through reels, he could easily do so on his phone. But no… this feels more like an invitation. A quick, sweet date before sleep, just to watch a few animal videos that rarely ever fail to make you smile.

As you crawl into him, watching cats protecting newborn babies or dogs jumping their owners affectionately, you do smile. You laugh, even. You feel somewhat at ease here with him, but you know you’ll go back to ground zero in the morning.

When you’ve left and he’s gone to work.

And you hate it. You hate that you’re dependent on him like this… Yoongi calls it finding comfort in somebody you love, and you don’t disagree. But adding to this, you think you’re limiting his options by shackling yourself to him.

By demanding that comfort.

You sigh in his arms, breathing calmer than before, but not enough to sleep. Yet, he asks, “Hey… sweetheart. Are you awake?”

“I am.”

“I’m just thinking… Do you want me to call the therapist tomorrow?”

Shit… why does the ball of guilt keep growing? How does he think of this and you don’t? Have you really sunk this deep again? You’re stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I… I should do it myself,” you mumble.

“I don’t mind.”

“No, I’ll just do it in the morning. I think I should… do things for myself, too, right?”

He pauses. Ponders your words; or at least, that’s what you surmise from the way he breathes and sighs and hums. And you’re proven right when he inquires, “Do you feel like I mind doing things for you?”

Yes. No.

No, you do not think so. But you sure as hell waste his time. Occupy it with this nonsense when he could be happier somewhere else, living his life, making plans for the future and rambling about the job he loves.

But no…

Fucking calling the therapist for you.

You break.

It always happens in the worst moments; you don’t know what it is, how it happens, but you break. Hard. Your motions stop, maybe even your breathing. But then you do sigh, so deeply that it burns, trying to keep your voice from shaking, to keep the tears at bay.

But this time, it doesn’t work. Emotions heightened when Yoongi utters something he’s provided as a reminder over the years, “Don’t hold back.”

So you don’t.

There were days when this lesson was necessary, a gentle nudge to release the weight, and today is one of them. You weep, starting with soft whimpers that grow louder steadily, and you press into his chest until you're suddenly sobbing.

You sniffle with an aching head, holding onto him for dear life, barely noticing when your sobs, once again, morph into absolute wailing.

He embraces you, tighter with each inhale and exhale. You’re so impossibly close to him, garbling something that he doesn’t understand. His voice is pain-struck and trembling when he encourages, “Come again, baby? Talk to me.”

It takes a while; it doesn’t work. And then, he chants, “God, baby. My baby… it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“No!” you cry out, slurring your words, “No… am a burden. Am fucking burdening you…”

This is a clear thought, isn’t it? Even in a moment like this, you think it’s true. And that maybe…

Maybe you should’ve never agreed to the lunch he offered you all those years ago. You would miss everything good in your life, lose the one thing you so cherish, but you’d at least rid him of you.

Those long six years ago, you should have just told him you were fine.

As a student, Yoongi always trod the same path from the second floor down to the entrance of the college, living into a routine — never really noticing much of significance. He’d see other students who’d be eating; talking; rushing to class.

And as a TA, Yoongi was used to another, different journey throughout the building, too; climbing down the same spiral staircase, hurrying through the scary, empty mezzanine, passing the same few rooms on the ground floor.

He’d prepare to go home or to the library after attending his favourite psychology professor’s classes, assisting him to his best abilities. But this was different from all the other familiar routes he’d grown accustomed to.

These Wednesday afternoons did offer something of significance. Someone of significance. 

Because every time he reached those rooms on the ground floor, you’d be there.

At first, he reckoned you always waited for your class to start, just at the time when his ended. But you were alone each time. The doors to the classrooms and lecture halls were all closed, and then there was you, a sole soul waiting for whatever miracle to appear.

It took a couple weeks for him to gather that you might not have been supposed to be there. He noticed it when he saw your eyes fixated on a spot, pupils never moving an inch, even when he walked past. At some point, he’d memorised just this expression on your face.

And then, bit by bit, he realised that your stance didn’t seem quite normal. Your eyes were dead, hands never flinching. You emanated a sense of loneliness and stupefaction that he couldn’t express in words.

Today, something in him stirred. Perhaps because he’d just covered social behaviour as a topic or perhaps because any proper human would recognise that something was wrong with you.

Your hands were holding a lidless cup that day, barely steaming anymore. You were blinking slowly, if at all. This time, he approached you with care, as if nearing a wounded deer; as if trying to keep it there and not frighten it away.

But when he leaned into you, a hand scarcely touching your shoulder, your head moved up to look at him slowly but surely. And your first reaction to him ever was a smile.

You remember that when you first looked at him, like really looked at him, his face seemed familiar to you. You were sure you’d seen him before, even if just in passing. He had this long, pretty, dark hair, covering his neck, a couple inches above his shoulders.

A kind face. A calm demeanour.

He stood there with pure relaxation between his eyebrows; one you hadn’t felt in a while despite your falling face. Flawless porcelain skin, free of dark circles, free of exhaustion. When did you last look like this?

You smiled at him instinctively, a curious expression; you couldn’t guess at all what he wanted or needed, but you were ready to listen. You’d always listen to people — listen, listen, listen. Perhaps that was the exact problem.

This very attention towards him, coming this easily, made your shoulders sink in new dejection; everything did. Every thought was intrusive, unwelcome, too stretched for your liking.

Whenever you had a normal thought or a bad one that’d at least pass immediately, you considered it a good day.

But you felt a tension around your temples by now; your head never felt at ease.

Yet, you asked, “Yes?”

And he wondered in return, “Are you okay? You looked distracted and I thought I might ask.”

“Oh… that’s nice,” you commented, your voice a bit too quiet yet surprised; you cleared your throat, spoke up, “but I’m okay. I just sit here sometimes after my classes.”

“You do?”

“Mhm. To take a little break after all the information dump, yeah. I’ll go home soon, though, no worries.”

“Hm… yeah. I just,” Yoongi started, hesitant — you now know he was trying to reveal something without appearing creepy. “I noticed you here a few times, so I wanted to ask just to be sure.”

He saw you here? You? And he came up to talk to you, just because he’d noticed you before? Baffling. You didn’t think you were visible to anybody. You thought you faded in front of others’ eyes.

“You’re honestly so nice,” is all you said, hoping your eyes didn’t reveal too much. How much his words affected you, and how they made you think you were just a little, a tiny bit perceptible.

“Sure,” he responded, nodding. And when you failed to come up with more appreciative words, he prepared to move, bidding you goodbye with a single, “Okay…”

Then, he was walking away; as grateful as you were, your energy-lacking body forced your eyes shut. You drew a deep breath. These few words you’d exchanged with him took everything out of you — that was the worst part of all this.

Interaction drained you. Loneliness drained you. The world and life were all draining, and you couldn’t figure out anymore how to feel… awake. Sober without ever drinking.

When your eyes closed, you felt your surroundings starting to spin. Or maybe, it was you; as if someone had gripped your shoulders and was turning you in circles. There were so many weird particles behind your eyelids.

The rotation was insane, but nothing new. Shut down most of your other senses and people’s voices; like the one that returned a second later, the same as before. Shit. Had he seen you struggle? Was he seeing something nobody else ever would?

You weren’t used to attention. You weren’t used to someone noticing.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” the stranger with the familiar face asked, concern in his voice. “You don’t look like it.”

What was it? What was it about his gentle, low voice that lured you in? What was it about his attentive tone that made you want to tear up? Maybe because you’d bottled things up for so long.

But you held the liquid locked in your eyes. Proudly, barely.

“I’m…”

You considered lying. You considered pulling a lame excuse out of your ass. But something in you snapped, snapped hard, and the truth spilled just before you could think twice—

“If I’m being honest… I’m feeling pretty faint… I often do? I usually just need to sit down a bit or I’ll pass out.”

You hated using the word usually. As though your condition had become irreparable, like a chronic illness; and you were stating its treatment, only temporary.

“Hmm…” he hummed. “Have you eaten?”

“Not much…”

“Then that might be it,” he concluded, content with the deduction. In hindsight, you think he was hoping it was only that, nothing more. “Do you have something with you?” You shook your head. “Are you getting something?”

You shrugged.

You could’ve easily told the truth and said no; that the appetite was absent, that you were going to go home and hardly remember how you got there. That you’d throw your bag on the couch, take off all your clothes, not really bother for a shower and jump into your bed.

Then, you’d breathe. Survive.

You didn’t have the energy to eat, to shower, and right now, somehow not even to lie. The remainder of it had been used in today’s class and in this conversation.

He knew you couldn’t come up with any bad justification, so he offered, “Listen… I still have this sandwich with me that I was going to eat after class. You can have it if you want.”

What? That was…

“Oh, no,” you blurted, raising a hand to reject, “you should eat if you haven’t yet.”

“Look, I totally get being selfless, but you don’t look good and…” He sighed, tilting his head. Eyebrows raised and expression suddenly stricter. “If I can help anyhow, I’d rather have that than anyone else finding you unconscious here later. Please?”

How could you’ve resisted such a plea?

He was taking care of you and he didn’t even know you. And your body understood; your body heard him. Because your stomach grumbled at the mention of the meal; it didn’t mean anything to you, but it meant something to your hungry, craving body.

It often did that. Wishing to eat; then, not letting you swallow a bite.

You grabbed your bag and warily, carefully got to your feet. The man lifted a hand in caution, as if expecting for you to lose your balance. You did, just a little, swaying until you’d grounded yourself.

Goddamn it.

You nodded with a deep exhale and followed him as he suggested, “Let’s go to the courtyard. Get some fresh air. We can eat there and talk… or not talk if that's what you want.”

You kept moving your head up and down, fine with whatever. The fronts of it hurt due to the  lack of nutrition; it was past four pm and you’d only eaten a damn banana.

He found you a shadowy spot away from the sun; it was late spring, the summer steadily approaching. The shade protected your tired eyes, guarded you from further headaches.

As you plumped onto the grass next to him, your fingers grazed it for a moment — and it felt good against your skin. A pleasant combination, the wind and the scent of grass; nearly freed your chest of the stuffy pain.

You watched his soft fingers fish out the sandwich, and then some salted peanuts for himself. Urged you to eat before spilling a handful of the nuts into his palm. God, you felt horribly guilty, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to convince him to share the meal.

He… didn’t even seem to mind a bit.

Wiping his hand on his pants, he finally introduced, “I’m Min Yoongi. Psychology student and TA. Judging from your spot every single Wednesday afternoon, you take psychology classes, too?”

“I do… yeah.”

You took a bite enough for mouses, but then proceeded with a larger, human-appropriate one. Your stomach felt odd; Min Yoongi’s small talk helped you eat, but the nervous feeling in your chest that never really went away weighed heavily on your tummy.

You added, “Thinking of dropping it, though…”

“Why?”

“Because I might be failing anyway. Haven’t done much, and I still have a presentation on my paper left but have prepared nothing for it yet, either.”

“Have you asked the professor about a potential extension?”

Of course you’d thought about it. You always did. Which is why you despised having to answer, “No…”

No. Of course not. To most professors, mental health didn’t matter as an excuse.

You understood, though. They graded every paper they received, surrendering their free time, their summer and their winter breaks. To grant you special treatment was something you regarded as unnecessary; you didn’t think you were worth it.

“Do you feel like you could do better next term?” Yoongi asked.

“I don’t know.”

Your sandwich was done and gone. You were still hungry; you felt the appetite all of a sudden. You knew it often came and went in waves, but somehow, the sandwich left you more pining than anything these days.

Yoongi saw as you licked your fingers clean of the mayonnaise; offered you some peanuts that you politely declined, greedy for something proper. Maybe you’d eat an actual dinner tonight.

After a while, Yoongi spoke, “Okay, I know I’m a stranger to you and everything, but if you want, I could try to help you.”

Shit, but… that would’ve meant putting in the effort. To get up, to meet him, to focus and to study. You didn’t know if you’d be able to do all that. You didn’t know how to—

But his eyes were so sincere; a pure dark brown, sparkling in hope, for whatever noble reason. And you thought… you thought…

If there was any chance to pass this class and get over with it, wouldn’t you feel a gigantic wave of relief wash over you? After so damn long? Wouldn’t it be worth it? Maybe a spark of hope ignited in your chest after all… maybe you could turn things around.

“Yeah…” you finally obliged. “Yeah, that’s really nice.”

“Great. Are you free this Friday afternoon?”

After that, it became part of your routine to meet up with Yoongi every Thursday or Friday, depending on his own schedule. A couple weeks passed like a breeze; or at least, compared to the days you were used to.

Some time later, those meetings increased, and you found a profound liking in them. You still often struggled with leaving your apartment at all, sometimes deeming getting out of bed or brushing your teeth an impossible task.

But whenever Yoongi called, offering a nearby café — always a nearby café — you’d place all your energy into moving, throwing on clothes, leaving. You felt unworried with him; at least for a couple hours.

He wasn’t just smart to an admirable degree; he was humorous, too. Motivating. Praised you for your ideas and your sharp mind. You’d forgotten you still had it in you — you thought time had altered your brain chemistry, killed too many of its cells to still let your mind operate.

Today, he didn’t suggest a café but a place you hadn't been to before. Yoongi had never invited you anywhere that wasn’t a public space, careful with your feelings without ever mentioning the obvious issues you had.

He only really crawled out of his shell and gave you the address to this new spot once you’d invited him over, too — he couldn’t make it, helping out the professor he assisted. But you reckon it was telling enough for him to understand how comfortable you’d grown with him.

So you went where he told you to go, and once you arrived, you recognised it as an office. A small one, but elegantly decorated, furniture sparse. And it wasn’t just any office. A therapist’s office.

“This is my mom’s,” Yoongi explained as you inspected the books on the shelf and the overall soothing and fitting atmosphere, “she’s out of town, so I thought we could study here today.

“Oh…”

He had to have heard your hesitancy, your uncertainty. This is the place they usually suggest in guidance books and in conversation to people like you. You didn’t know how to feel; the emotions washing over you were an odd sensation. Not good, not bad.

But scary, somehow.

Yoongi put a soft hand on your shoulder, making you turn, and asked, “Is that okay for you?”

“Yeah… it’s just… I’ve only really thought and read about therapy, but never quite seen an actual room like this.” You shook your head, clicking your tongue. “It’s crazy. How have I never been in one despite studying psychology for so long?”

“Hmm, many students haven’t been.”

“Yeah.”

You stripped your bag off of you, taking a seat on the cosy patient’s couch. Pulled out your laptop and placed it on the table between you and where he seated himself on the therapist’s chair. 

Swallowing a strange lump, you cleared your throat, starting the study session with, “Okay, so… I was thinking about what you said about the research question last time.”

“Right…”

At this point, you couldn’t really fathom why, but he seemed reserved today, a little distracted. Still providing as much information and intellect as he could; but his thoughts were slower and his eyes gentler.

You think you studied barely forty-five minutes when Yoongi called for a break — unusual, because it was mostly you to announce a pause in thoughts, when your brain would demand a couple minutes of peace.

He sighed, hands touching his thighs and then got up to bring you something to drink. Came back with two cups of tea. You thought he’d be returning with a glass of water, but upon seeing the beverage, your eyes widened; you told him, “This is super nice of you, thanks.”

“Of course.” Pause. You slurped; then he did. A second later, he inquired, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Mhm.”

You waited. Nothing came. You took another sip of the fruity winter tea in the middle of summer, wiping away the thin sheen of sweat under your nose that the heat caused. Then you looked up, big eyes staring into his just in time to see his mouth open.

“You always seem so surprised when I’m nice to you.”

Ah…

He’d said he’d had a question, but the indication of an inquiry, the one lifting in tone at the end never came. His statement was his question. And you thought it wasn’t the first time you heard it; you just never noticed you were doing it again.

Yoongi left the conclusion there, and the question mark hung somewhere between the two of you. Unspoken, containing a silent, ”Why?”

So you answered, “I just… uhm. People don’t just do something like this for me without me asking. It’s new to me how attentive you are.”

Sad. Just sad. You hated having to actually echo your innermost thoughts; you knew this wasn’t normal.

He knew, too, because he said, “This… is not how things should be.”

“But this is how they ended up being. I mean it’s just tea. But I don’t think anybody else sees me sitting there and goes like, Okay, I’ll do this lil something for her, you know?”

“Which is insane. You deserve it all so much. More than anyone I know.”

If you’d still been drinking, you would’ve choked. Those words were rare, not often uttered to you; how were you supposed to respond to them? You’d long forgotten how to react to things at all — it didn’t come too naturally to you anymore.

So all you did was laugh a little, as if replying to a joke. Genuinely, you wondered, “How can you say something like that?”

“Why not?”

“I mean, you probably know so many people.”

Yoongi blinked at you, as if waiting for your argument to proceed; but when it didn’t, he lifted a shoulder, steadfast with his opinion as he answered, “So? What do you think? That you feeling that way about yourself makes everyone else feel that way about you, too?”

You shrugged your shoulders just an inch, imitating his motions. Your gaze fell, as though catching yourself spewing pure gibberish. He continued, “You have a pure heart. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you being mean. And you’re strong, careful, and endure a shit ton.”

You looked up at him instantly. Let the last words reverberate in your mind, pushing them to the forefront between all your other messy thoughts. “Of course you knew,” you said.

“Of course. You’re so obviously hurt and I hate that you are.”

Well, you hated it, too. But… 

Your desperation came out in a whisper, “I don’t know what to do about it…”

You put the cup back onto the saucer; your fingers were warm when you pushed them into your hair, pressing your palms against your forehead, holding onto your mane. Elbows on your thighs. The world spun again until you felt his hand on your arm once more.

“Hey.” He sounded softer again. “Do you want to take a longer break? We could stop for today and talk?”

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to. But it feels to me like you’ve never done that before�� people don’t want to listen.” His words hit you like bricks. Like heavy cement bricks. The pain was excruciating. “Is that it?”

You were still staring at your lap when he posed the question; your head whirred, so you didn’t know where to start. Which is why you held onto the first complaint — you knew they were valid worries, but you always called them complaints, like you were a burden — and said,

“I just… I listen to everyone. I let people vent, I let them feel hurt, and I try to be there and lend a shoulder and just,” the words cascaded out of you like a wild waterfall; your throat clogged up again, “to be a good person and a good friend.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, the pressure back in your chest. “But why do I not get any of it back? Why is it that everyone goes silent when I’m hurting? Do I deserve this somehow?”

You felt tears pricking and burning in your waterline, and you blinked them away. Took another quick sip just to help your dry throat. Then, “I hate that I sound selfish? Like I only do things for people to get love back, but… that’s not it. I just want to feel worthy of something, too.”

“You don’t sound selfish. It’s never wrong or inhumane to demand affection and care, and if it is, then… every person’s selfish. Whatever.”

Up until that point, you hadn’t known that someone could be this tender and direct at once. Yoongi lived in a reality that wasn’t sugarcoated, but he understood empathy and heartbreak, knew to dip his words in an ointment alleviating enough.

You wondered what he’d endured to become this type of person; sympathy and a mind this sage often stem from grief once encountered, and you so hoped he was an exception to this belief of yours.

You looked at him with delicate fondness, mixed with some lasting trouble. He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t know what came over you when you leaned into his palm, kept his gaze, and stayed in place when he moved in.

Kissed you.

And you didn’t know why, but the moment opened your heart as if it’d been locked before; he was the key, undoing the lock so easily. That was when the first tear rolled down your cheek, meeting his skin, and you started trembling as he moved his mouth against yours.

You couldn’t grasp why he was doing it; even if parts of you knew. Did he not care that you were broken? That you were still breaking? That the ache always consumed you, that you felt whatever your brain inflicted on you throughout your entire body?

Maybe not. He always said you were funny, sweet, never humorous at anybody’s expense.

It was different from the things you’d heard before.

Nobody will love you like this.

Stop acting like you’re traumatised.

I didn’t love you — I kept you because you were attractive. Because you let me.

You had always asked yourself: why had your feelings always been shoved aside when you voiced your opinion? Whenever it differed from the one in your family or your friend’s circle?

Why were you told to never open up about your childhood memories? When you were caged in; when somebody three times your age indulged in impudence when they shouldn’t have, long ago when you were a child; when you fell in love at a later age and were forced to let go?

Why were you told you were tainted, that you couldn’t get any affection like this, to keep your pain to yourself and forget about your past? And why was this sequence of nightmares plaguing you right now, like you were dying, just when he was kissing you…

Because you were scared. So scared.

If you told Yoongi any of this, would he bolt? Would you hurt yet another person? Would he see you as a shattered porcelain doll, distance himself from you? Because honestly, why would he stay at all; with someone who hasn’t healed, who’d pulled him underwater, too?

Yet, you didn’t say any of this. You sighed; leaned into him. Took residency in his heart, cried into him.

He kissed you for another second, and then backed away. Wiped your tears. You broke and broke until your voice broke, too, giving way to quiet sobs.

You weren’t used to attention. You weren’t used to someone noticing.

And somehow, the realisation hurt anew, deep in your core and beyond.

Your tears had mostly dried when he resumed his position, sitting in front of you. His fingers were entangled and he waited.

Yoongi knew you’d cry again, though. The patient’s couch had some magic to it, his mother always said. They’d always cry, but they’d heal at the same time. Recognise hidden parts of themselves.

He was uncomplaining and composed, and kept looking at you until you said, “It just feels… like I’ll never be enough. I can do as much as possible, but none of it is ever seen because I’m taken for granted.”

“Who takes you for granted?”

“Everyone. I’ve spent many nights awake for people, and they abandoned me. In a crowd, others will always be praised for one thing and I’ll be ignored for the same. It’s made me bitter.”

He nodded in true therapist fashion, but his expression wasn’t as neutral as one; he looked pain-struck for you. Said, “You’ve been hurt… I see that…”

“I’m… hurting,” you corrected, “and I don’t know what to do.”

Yoongi attempted a different approach; you were in a hopeless spiral, and the strategy he needed to try wasn’t just to dig out your trauma, but to make you familiar with the good parts of your life, too.

So he asked, sincerely hoping you had an answer to his question, “Who could you trust as you grew up?”

“I don’t know…” Yoongi’s chest deflated, motivation dropping — that is, until you muttered, “My brother.”

“Parents?”

“Part of the problem.”

Okay; your answers came more rapidly now. He took it as a good sign; as readiness to talk.

“Where’s your brother?” he wondered.

“In this town,” you answered, and Yoongi sighed in relief. “But I can’t bother him with all of my shit.”

Your symptoms were as typical as they could be; you regarded your self-worth as buried deep under the ground, never wanting to disturb those who still deemed you close and loved. You’d established this distance between you and the others; he didn’t blame you.

The symptoms were typical.

“Why do you think so?” Yoongi prodded, whispering your name when you didn’t answer.

“I’ve bothered them all enough…”

“How so?”

Maybe he was doing too much. But it seemed you were on board with it; you weren’t complaining, not sighing, not withdrawing. You were listening and talking. Nobody let you talk, and now that you were, you looked like you needed to let it out.

You spat, “Because they never seemed to want to hear anything.”

God…

It hurt to see you like this. Damp eyes, a heavily rising chest, as if you were close to panicking again, but desperately holding back. He knew it; he saw it in the way you drew your breaths and in the things you said.

He knew you’d braved multiple nights and many, many sleepless hours before, spending these dark moments clutching your chest, trying to get rid of the unbearably tight feeling in your chest.

He knew that torturous pressure. He’d been there before. The persistent feeling of fear and unease — like somebody had dropped a weight onto his ribcage and tied up his stomach. The shallow breathing and thumping heart would strip him off focus.

Thoughts circling and circling, around each other; absolute bullshit most of the time.

He couldn’t imagine how overwhelmed you felt, but then again, he could. Was the world louder to you, too? The way it used to be for him. Did you hear that constant screaming in your head?

Vulnerable, senses heightened, sensitive to the slightest change.

He hated the thought of a wall between you and your peace. Hated hearing the words you narrated; of your home, of your childhood, of the people you met. The disrespect you suffered and the dirt you were treated as.

You deserved none of it.

Maybe he felt that way because nobody ever deserved it; or maybe because he knew he’d fallen in love with you. Not because he needed to save you, or because he felt like falling for someone who he’d have to fix could be a welcoming challenge.

He knew people who treated depression like this; saviour complex in full effect, they needed to be the hero or heroine to stitch a broken heart.

No — he fell for you because you were you. Despite everything and every pain you endured, you were still you; and most of the you that you were before you got hurt this badly was still there, under the surface.

He saw those joyful parts of you reemerge sometimes, breaking through the waves. Sometimes, right before your head would fall again; your body weightless; drowning — he saw those parts on those days for a split moment.

But not right now.

In fact, the true parts of you that knew to feel happiness were absent now, and he knew — in that sense, he was prepared for you to utter what you said next. Was ready to hear it, no matter how little he actually wanted to hear it.

“And sometimes, when it got too much…” You gulped. Yoongi knew what you’d say; he knew. But— “I didn’t feel like being here anymore. It seems that was the only and last time I opened my family’s eyes.”

But when you still said it, it stabbed his heart like a dagger.

“Only, after that… it soon became irrelevant again,” you continued, “they told me I should be thankful for being alive and regret the mistake I made… what I tried.”

And you spoke on. Spoke on and on. He leaned back, allowing himself a better position to breathe. His heart felt like a sewing pin cushion, riddled with tiny holes. His eyebrows furrowed in agony, but he saw worse pain in your eyes.

Tears slowly reappeared.

“And when I was judged for this, too… I realised I didn’t regret ever trying to leave the world. I regretted that I’d failed to do so.”

Maybe he felt that way because nobody deserved it; maybe because he knew he’d fallen in love with you.

But your words split him in a million tiny shards, like glass, until his pieces became tiny enough to resemble dust.

”Am a burden… Am fucking burdening you…”

Yoongi’s voice defeats the others in your head just barely; as if you’re separated by a glass wall and hearing him from afar, only clearing when you hammer through it and break the surface. He’s quiet compared to your cries, a hand firmly on your back.

His grip around you wants to glue you together so desperately; he’s not letting go, even though you get restless soon, quivering and ruining his shirt.

“Hey, baby…” you hear him say, but you interrupt, obstinately shaking your head.

“No… I’m— I never should’ve let you this close and—”

“No.” It’s his turn to interject. And he does it with determination; tone suddenly so low, cold, so you silence. “Stop.”

You do, only now noticing that he’s imprisoning your wrists in his grasp. Not painfully, but still solidly enough for you to understand what he means. You confirm it for yourself when you look up.

You already know your eyes are bloodshot, cheeks thoroughly wet; but you still recognise the heavy breaths he draws. See something entirely different in his eyes than yours.

Pain.

You hurt him. And this time, you could once again lament your destructive behaviour, argue how you keep inflicting these shit ass feelings on him. But…

The ache in his expressions says something else entirely. Fills you with hope, fills you with guilt.

Shows you that he despises the thought of you possibly regretting this relationship. His gaze proves that he doesn’t. That if he could go back in time and meet you again, talk to you again, fall in love with you again — he would.

You know it because he’s said it before. You know.

But your brain is half melting, hurting, spitting all negative assumptions at you like nobody’s business.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you stammer, pierced by the sorrow in his eyes.

“What?”

“I… shouldn’t have said that,” you start, gulping. Your crying ebbs down for a second as you register the growing agony in his heart, and you explain, “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, but I can’t stop thinking that…”

Break in conversation.

Then him again, “…That?”

“That you’d be better off without me. That you’re here so I stay alive and that you’d be less burdened with someone else…”

Another pause. 

He stares at you, as if pondering his answer. Bites into his lower lip softly and releases it right away. Blinks, looks to your wrists, lets go of them and then whispers, “Do you want to know? What I’m thinking, do you want to know that, too?”

“…What are you thinking?”

“That it’s true that I’m burdened.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

The pain is searing, a burning arrow shooting through your heart. It’s what you expected and what you feared and what still hurts so much upon hearing and—

Are you crying again? Are you tearing up? You don’t know.

You’re not sure, but it does seem like you’re breaking once more when he shushes you carefully, touching your cheek. He calms you, and then speaks again—

“Of course I’m burdened, too. Yeah, of course. I’d be lying if I said seeing you like this doesn’t make me feel helpless… but do you know what it means that I’m still here?”

Your voice trembles when you speak, “Because you’re scared of leaving me in this condition.”

“No. I learned early enough to prioritise myself when I need to. No, I’m not leaving because I don’t want to — simple. Because I’ll share your, mine and the world’s damn pain along with my heart. ‘Kay?”

Retrospectively, his words sound logical. He said it’s simple, and in some way, it is. If you didn’t have the brain that you have, it would be. If you weren’t so neck-deep in the quicksand pulling you into doubts, you’d be less surprised at the finality in his tone.

“Baby—” you start, but he squeezes your hand, eyes glistening.

“We have enough enemies in this world. Don’t regard me as one, too. Okay? Please…”

“No, you’re not,” you defend, moving your head and the palm on your cheek along with it, “you’re anything but that.”

He nods, sniffling; you know he’s holding back the same salty, pouring liquid as you. He’s always done that, providing a sense of strength and safety to make you feel just that.

“We’ll be okay one day, love. The world hurts us a shit ton, and life is difficult, but…” His voice cracks here, and he waits to regain control, sighing. “We only get one of it and… it’d be so unfair if we were destined to stay like this, right?”

You don’t believe in divine beliefs that seemingly predetermine how your life plays out. Fate or destiny or whatever synonyms to notions that Jung or Freud believed in. You’ve heard of this stuff plenty in your studies, but it never affected your curiosity much.

You know Yoongi isn’t necessarily a representative of it either; not one to dive too deep into things that suggest the potential absence of a free will.

But the thought provides hope when nothing else does. You know. The fact that you can’t leave this world without fixing things; that you’re here to contribute to much larger and more important things.

You cannot have been born to spend your days here without the joy you deserve.

You’ve felt much of it thanks to Yoongi, but you’ve had too many setbacks to call this a proper life. You don’t want to end it like this. You don’t want to grow old like this.

And you want to gift him the life he deserves, too.

Fuck…

You need to get better. You need to get better. You need to get better.

You need to help yourself. Even if it takes time; even if the non-linear process of healing irks you, stealing hope and leaving anguish in turn. And it’s as if Yoongi reads your mind when he says—

“It’s okay, you know? To feel that way. It takes time. It doesn’t matter how much, but it’s okay to fall back and have ups and downs, as long as you don’t give up. Yes?”

“I can’t, I know… I— I won’t give up. I just… need you to be here.” Your voice is unsteady, and your heart is, too; fickle as can be. But you’d rather hang onto the aspiration right now… nothing else. “Don’t ever leave me, okay? I’ll fix this for us, I will.”

“For yourself first. I’ll be here, no matter what.”

“…I love you.” Your breathing is staggered, leftover pain still keeping the anxiety in your chest. It’ll take a while. But there’s power in your admissions when you repeat, “I love you so much.”

You lean in carefully, and he mimes the movement, bending into your kiss. It’s a peck, soft and gentle and encouraging, and you murmur through your sniffles, “So, so much.”

And then you climb up, using all your strength. Half your body comes to a rest on his; the immediate proximity and warm touch evoke motivation and longing in your heart. For not only him, but every second of a possible serene future, too.

This very hope is often born and reborn at the end of your lowest lows. It’s what pulls you up again, keeps you going each time before the next valley can swallow you. Sometimes it takes longer, sometimes not.

But you so desperately want this. Want it to work now.

You want to be okay. Want to travel and soak in the sun. Want to dance in the rain and scream from the peak of a mountain; want to snorkel in clear, blue seas.

The life you picture for yourself, the one you follow in those healing vlogs on social media — it’s what you yearn for. It’s what you want to feel. With him on your side.

Sometime in the future, you see yourself beaming in genuine happiness, see yourself smiling. And you want to work towards it. You’ve always wanted to.

Ever since Yoongi first showed you what love, contentment and merriment felt like, you’ve craved this. Ever since that night he told you he loved you, despite everything.

Despite, despite, despite.

He was there to catch your fall when you couldn’t keep yourself upright anymore. When your knees weakened and the ground turned into clouds, and you plunged through them and towards the cemented earth that’d shatter you.

He aided you in staying whole. Let you lean against his shoulder, nodding off into a slumber there, allowing you to dream because until then, you didn’t dare to.

You thought dreaming was pointless; just a fabrication of the unconscious mind to distract you from the horrors of the world. To keep you occupied, to torture you even when asleep. As time passed, you started making these horrors your life, and the line between reality and fantasy thinned.

Until…

Until he turned those nightmares into daydreams. Blossoming, vibrant colours appeared where you’d perceived greys before. Somehow, you fell apart a lot less when Yoongi spent his time with you, taught you to love again.

You became less terrified by dreams then, because the content changed. And whenever you weren’t dreaming, away from sleep, you experienced the utopia you’d always sought.

The day Yoongi first told you he loved you, you’d long defeated the semester you’d so worried about; started and survived the one after; and were now already tackling your very last one.

Even after all these months, you never let him forget how grateful you were for passing the last summer semester eventually, and in return, he never let you forget that he’d stay even after.

You didn’t study all the time anymore either; now, your afternoons and nights were filled with gentle words, promising embraces, lips against lips. It took some time to truly open up. To stop feeling like you were making a mistake.

“Doing yourself to him,” you called it, as if you were about to hurl him into his very own mistake.

Even then, you wanted to get better for him; you knew it hadn’t and wouldn’t happen overnight. All of it was much easier said than done; healing sounds so doable for those who attempt to support those who need it, yet they cannot grasp the meaning of a broken heart and scared mind.

But there was something so wonderful about the simplicity between Yoongi and you. So simple that it called forth feelings so complex. 

They were tough to navigate, but never tough to admit.

That March night, the sentiments roamed your body the clearest, even though the skies were anything but that. The thunder sounded like the universe had cracked; the white and silver of the striking lightning illuminated your room.

It was the night you felt hope in all its glory, for the very first time in years.

“You keep hiding from me,” Yoongi said, legs crossed like yours, sitting vis-a-vis.

He was close enough for your knees to collide, and when they did for the umpteenth time, he put a careful hand on your fingers resting on your thigh. You didn’t protest, so he didn’t withdraw.

“I’m not hiding from you. I just…” you stalled, “I just want you to be sure.”

“About you?”

If it had been this easy, you wouldn’t have asked. Because you knew the answer to this. Yoongi didn’t need to explain it to you; he was already certain about you to an indisputable degree.

You shook your head. Elaborated, “About everything. I don’t just come with the few good times we had the last couple of weeks. I come with… everything I’ve ever experienced and that shaped me into this.” You gestured over yourself. “You’d notice soon.”

“I already do.”

His answers and arguments came promptly, as if he knew the script to this talk and had already thought out every response he’d be giving. This was so effortless to him; thinking about it today, you wouldn’t even have needed to say a word.

But it was important to you. You couldn’t permit him to grow this attached without making sure.

“You just take it, do you? All that I am,” you concluded delicately; wanting to inform him, but so terrified of scaring him away. “But if you fall for me, then you’re committing. And I want you to think about it because I don’t— I don’t want to ruin your life.”

When he spoke again, he seemed to finally deviate from the script he knew; because confused, he asked, “If?”

“What?”

“What do you mean, if I fall for you?”

Oh… oh.

You understood. It didn’t take the tiniest of nanoseconds for you to fathom what he meant. And you could’ve sobbed right there and then, but the storm distracted you a little; the thunder was growling, threatening to explode again.

Somehow, the chaos outside kept you at bay. But only for so long.

“…Yoongi.”

His fingers moved from yours to your entire palm, taking it in his with a whisper of your name. Then, he clarified, “The possibility of something happening is redundant if it’s already happened, you know? And I’m…”

You held your breath, but at the same time, you were nearly panting. Maybe one first, then the other? You can’t remember anymore. You felt dizzy. Teary-eyed and joyful at once when you saw him at a loss of words.

“You’re?” you encouraged.

“I’m just so… feet deep underwater and in love with you that you couldn’t stop me if you wanted to.”

“I—”

“I love you. You know I do.”

Fuck… fuck, you knew.

Of course you knew.

Your heart was vile at times, cooperating with this demon of a brain and feeding you wrong information. But this, you knew. You fought through the congested mess of thoughts and admitted this to yourself every day.

Isn’t this why you were having this conversation in the first place?

But to hear him say it…

I love you.

You know I do.

“Even if you try to deny it,” he continued, “you know I love you and that I’ll keep doing it.”

This is when your waterline gave up; lined with the liquid you’d always held back. But why? There was no reason to. You felt at peace; Yoongi knew your heart. There was no use in keeping you closed off anymore.

So you cried. Let the first tear roll that he caught with his hand, holding your face so firmly that you thought it was the only thing keeping your head upright. Optimistic.

“There’s… there’s a chance that I start doubting you,” you contended for whatever stupid reason, sniffling, “that I doubt myself and then regret pulling you down with me and— there’s a chance I forget that you’ll keep loving me, no matter what, you know—”

“I’ll keep reminding you.”

“I’m a handful.”

“My hands are big enough, baby.”

The endearment didn’t slip past you, but instead made your beating organ swell. You don’t think you’d ever heard your pulse pounding in your eardrums this loudly. And he kept inching closer; his forehead nearly touched yours until it did.

“Can you love me even if I fall, Yoongi?”

“I’ll pick you up. You know that.”

“…What if you feel like you’re not good enough?”

Stop asking questions. Stop stop stop.

But he kept answering.

“Remember what you told me a couple days ago?” Yoongi asked, his voice quiet, drowning in the storm. “That it’d been long since you’d felt happy like this.”

“I do right now… I just…”

“Yeah, and I— I think. If I’m able to stay by your side and make you smile anyhow? Then I think this… we… are good enough.”

That’s it. Your throat was dry, your mind out of questions. You could renounce doubts if he didn’t have any either. He seemed convinced enough; so you admitted your own convictions to him, too.

“I’m… I love you, too. I love you, I fucking do.”

Your last word was cut, merely a breath. Swallowed when you leaned in and kissed him, pulling him back with you onto the bed. Yoongi landed on top of you, draping the two of you under the thin, floral blanket.

The early spring rain tapped your window softly before the gentle noise turned into more aggressive knocking and hammering. This very storm they’d announced was the reason Yoongi had stayed tonight.

That’s what he’d told you at least; in truth, it was an excuse.

Before today, you rarely spent your nights together.

Whenever you did, he allowed you your space in order to not overwhelm you. He knew you were cautious, slow, took your time to trust. He’d sleep on the couch or crawl back to you when you approached him in the dead of the night.

Touching his elbow gently, shaking him awake, telling him so sweetly that it drove him insane, “I don’t want to be alone.”

So he’d cuddle in when you sought out his arms, dozing so peacefully. It delighted him because whenever he didn’t slumber next to you, he’d hear you from the other room. Woefully moaning in your sleep, as if crying, turning.

He never saw or heard any of that when you leaned into his embrace, held onto his shirt. Never did anything more than sleep; he was content with that.

But tonight was different, less chaste than that — and he was content with that, too. 

You said you’d wanted to talk. And you had. You’d trembled through the conversation, heart combusting in your chest like it wasn’t part of you anymore, that treacherous thing with its own, stupid will.

But it thumped differently now when he kissed you like this. You felt the change so clearly when he held you, pushing you into the mattress; stripping you naked bit by bit; asking over and over again if you were okay, if he should stop.

You lived differently, too, when he pecked your bare skin, up and down, from head to toe, to and fro. His tongue explored your waist and your thighs and the wetness between your quivering legs.

And you loved differently when he immersed himself in you. Sighing and moaning against you as his tongue lapped you up. You felt the chills everywhere. Felt your shoulders rise, your hand in his long hair, the oxygen running out.

You’d nearly forgotten how such a moment felt — then again, you’d never experienced it like this before. You could barely breathe, and for the first time, you loved it. For the first time, it wasn’t your usual reason.

But the picture of the man over you pumping himself, covering his cock in the condom you’d bought weeks ago, just in case. Back when he started hanging around at your place. He was surprised about your preparation; was delighted about it, too.

And God… God, when he kissed you, sheathing himself in you, every inch connected with every piece of you. Souls and hearts and bodies merging. Moving in and out slowly, then a little quicker, cradling your face and kissing your neck.

Between all that, he kept asking if you were doing okay, and you said you’d never felt better. And the best part was that you fucking meant it and that’s when you knew—

That Yoongi warmed your coldest, most frigid spots. Helped you find a sense of heat that you’d long forgotten, that not even summer could ever bring back. The spring was right inside you, in the middle of your chest despite the rain.

But at the same time, somewhere next to it, he was there, too, becoming the storm that raged outside.

All at once, you remembered again. Even if you might forget in your worst times; even if he’d really need to remind you again.

You remembered that you could be loved, and that you were deserving of love.

You remembered that love towards somebody is often subjective and it’s not entirely up to you who feels it for you, and that only because somebody else was unable to give it to you the right way… it doesn’t mean everyone would act the same.

Yoongi was the spring and the storm; the rainbow you saw the next morning as the sky cleared.

Your mother used to struggle with migraines. Back then, you’d see her tied to the bed for half a day, struggling to get up, sleeping for a couple hours after swallowing her sumatriptan.

The evening or the morning after, you’d ask her how she was doing, and she’d say the headache was gone, but that some of the pressure still lingered. She’d feel it in the heaviness of her head, like it was falling against her clavicles.

Back then, you were too young to understand; you still don’t suffer migraines, knock on wood. But you somehow get what she meant — you guess the same applies to any other part of your body.

Like the soul.

They say a body becomes lighter after death since the soul leaves; and the morning after bawling in Yoongi’s arms, you feel the opposite. Like your grief makes you weigh more than during your good days.

Like you’re heavier than a month ago, without gaining a single kilogram.

But at least that means you’re alive. A soul intact.

And, just like your mother’s medicine, the night alleviated at least some of your pain. Maybe it was the conversation with Yoongi. Maybe the reassurance that he didn’t perceive you as the task you thought you might be.

Many years ago, you refused to seek help in others; be it loved ones, a partner or a therapist. Yoongi taught you to own who you were and to admit the problems you faced; that they were as valid as anything else.

Living with him and loving him this profoundly showed you that it’s okay to confide in someone. That someone will care. But it also taught you that ultimately, nobody is responsible for your well-being as much as you are.

That to heal, you need to accept yourself. That to accept yourself, you need to acknowledge the issues you face.

And for that, you need to be ready to combat your demons, understand that they can be fought.

You’ve always known that. In that sense, it isn’t true that you’re fully dependent on Yoongi. You know deep down that you’ll be the one pulling you out of this.

But…

It’s never bad for someone to initiate that thought process, is it? Even when it’s you emerging from the grave you dug for yourself; it’s okay to grab the hand as the earth breaks, pulling you out of the dirt and darkness.

Yoongi is the rope helping you out; but you’re the one to walk on once the endless well ends and you spot the daylight. You can rely on him. You can rely on yourself.

You’ll be okay… you’ll be okay.

“Ready?” Yoongi asks as you slip into your shoes. You look up, and nod, your smile soft. “Just a few more days, right?”

Right. 

You’ll live day by day. Survive the hours, strive towards a better future. Count your blessings, find things to look forward to. It’s alright to fall sometimes, and whenever you do, you’ll remember you’re not alone.

That you’ll get up eventually. You hold onto this.

And onto those few last days until vacation calls. You booked it so long ago; it can be that one thing to grasp, to look forward to, right?

And… you laugh. Because you remember Yoongi telling you to get your nails done, that he’d even go with you. “But do not forget, because blue suits Greece and I’d love to see the colour on you.”

You act like you don’t know what his plea means. You act like you don’t know how much he loves you. How this very approaching plan of his proves that he couldn’t even let go of you if you gave him another reason to.

Isn’t this enough to understand that he never feels guilty of loving you?

Why are you so afraid…

Because.

Yoongi never viewed your pain as something you had control over or something you caused; whoever hurt you is at fault, not you. And Yoongi knows that; knows that you matter, with your past and present and future, however cruel they might be.

But despite the fact that your past made you who you are, and that your future will determine how you’ll further turn out to be, Yoongi always preaches to focus on the controllable.

We won’t ever be able to manage the future entirely; maybe you won’t even ever be faced with the fears you harbour, you know? The past is the past, the present is the present and the future is the future. They will torment us if we put too much meaning in them.

I know it’s hard. But it’ll be alright. One day, it will be — you’re okay.

It has to be…

You’ll be okay. You’re okay.

The weather might change at warp speed — but soon, it’ll be sunny again.

i know i said it's okay if you skip this one, but if you're reading this, you might not have, and i'm thankful for that <3 i needed these feelings out of my system, so it felt very cathartic to me. maybe it helped you a little, too? i hope so, at least – things will be okay 🤍

what do you think? since you're here, i'd love to know how you feel about this piece 💕

[mariaofdoranelle]

The Courtship Deception - Part 1: Morning

Fic masterlist

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics

EEEEEE I’M SO EXCITED!!!

Warnings: none?

Word count: 983 words (I got it under control in the next parts, I promise 😅)

The wind in Aelin’s hair brought a rare sense of freedom, and it only got better the more she picked up speed. Tipping her head back, she felt weightless in this quaint little avenue—

“You’re supposed to be watching the road!” Fenrys shouted in the passenger’s seat. He was usually much cooler than this, but her favorite Personal Protection Officer was being handsomely paid to ensure not only her safety, but her dad’s convertible’s too.

“I’m feeling the road, Fen!” Aelin said, head tipped back into the tangled mess her hair became in this drive.

“That’s not— Fuck. We’re here!”

She slammed her foot on the breaks, tires screeching while their bodies were thrown forward. The force in which the seatbelt pressed against her collarbone was near bruising, but Aelin was laughing when the car stopped.

“How did I do?”

Fenrys threw his head back, cackling. “Fucking awful, Princess.”

Aelin’s father never allowed her to have driving lessons because he believes it’s an unnecessary waste of her time. Now, at the ripe age of 21, she finally convinced one of her babysitters to cross Rhoe’s orders, and her skills were getting less lethal each day.

Out of the car, she waited for Fenrys to parallel park—the spot was small, and Aelin was still getting the hang of it—and took in the charming residential street. An array of colorful little houses facing a park. It was Orynth in June, so the cool breeze brought the freshness of blooming trees, the late morning sunlight burning into Aelin’s skin and feeding into her soul, much like the flowering scene around her. Her bodyguard mentioned to a white and green house with a tiny but well-kept garden up front.

When Fenrys said they’d meet his secret tech guy, she expected something a lot more sketchy than this.

He said a few things to a camera by the front door, and it automatically opened. Um, rude? She didn’t expect a butler, but even in mafia movies there’s someone to answer the door.

After locking the front door and going through the living room, Fenrys led her into another one, and the amount of screens was far from being the most surprising thing.

“Rowie Bowie!” the bodyguard called, arms up, happy to greet his friend.

The mysterious man looked up, and it knocked Aelin’s breath out of her lungs. Holy rutting Mala. When Fen told her about this ‘grumpy tech guy’, she expected a weird-looking smelly nerd, not a scary-looking tattooed hottie. She immediately straightened, one hand subtly attempting to realign the bird’s nest that her hair became after the drive.

“Don’t bother,” scary-looking tattooed hottie said, piercing green eyes briefly assessing her before they were back on the screen. “You look pretty disheveled like this.” And he smirked. Her poor panties.

“So…” she trailed, leaning on the nearest desk. Smooth. Be smooth. “Rowie—“

“Please, don’t call me that.”

“It’s Rowan,” Fenrys added, “But Rowie is much better.”

He rolled his eyes. “Absolutely not—“

“Rowan.” Aelin cleared her throat. “Did you get past the security system?”

Of her own house, she meant. Her father was strict, so it was easier to get an illicit second phone than to get past all the monitoring her official phone was under. But Aelin had just bought a new iPhone, which meant she needed someone to make this phone fly under her dad’s radar—Mala forbid if someone finds an undetected wireless device within the walls of her mansion.

“All six of them, yes.”

“SIX?” Fenrys’ eyes were wide, caught by surprise.

“Yes,” Rowan replied, “Wireless detectors, frequency scanners, NLJDs, all six of them. And my job would be a lot easier if you knew your own workplace before hiring me.”

Poor Fen. His main job was to guard Aelin, he never got into the thick of Rhoe’s security system.

Rowan extended the new phone towards her, but took it back when she reached out. “I took the liberty to download something to get around your…” a small wince. “security cameras. You can crop some previously-recorded footage make make it look like it’s live. You’ll see it in the tutorial.”

How sweet of him. Aelin smiled. “You didn’t need to, but thanks.”

Her dad had security cameras installed in her bedroom—not in her closet or bathroom, but it was still annoying. Lorcan, one of her father’s men, was in charge of it, but Aelin terrorized the guy out of watching her footage. After a stunt she pulled a year ago, it’d take a nuclear explosion to get him to check the cameras on her bedroom.

“How much was it again?” Fenrys asked, his eyes widening when he saw the price, then complained, “That’s not what we settled for.”

“Agreed.” Rowan’s eyes, aimed at the bodyguard, were hard as steel. “You made my work sound much simpler than it actually was.”

She frowned. “How much is it?”

Fenrys sent her an apologetic look. “Half the Hermès we were buying after this.”

It’s not that money was a problem for Aelin, but her access to it was rather bureaucratic. She couldn’t go out, spend money on a “shopping spree”, and come back without shopping bags.

She waved him off. “What’s the point of getting a new purse if I don’t have a phone to put in it?”

Still upset, Fen turned around to focus on the payment. With his back to her, Aelin got closer to Rowan, both hands on his desk.

“I might have some trouble with this new setup on my phone,” Aelin lied.“So, I was wondering if you could give me your number, in case I have any questions.”

“Sure.” Rowan’s eyes sparkled, not leaving Aelin’s as he got her phone back. “Anything else?”

“Actually, yes.” She tilted her head, a fake helpless look from under her lashes. “I’m not as good with online instructions, so you might need to come find me sometime.”

The dark look Rowan gave her sent a shiver down her spine. “Let’s say I do. Does your guard dog come in the package deal?”

Aelin smirked, not bothering to keep up with the naïve facade anymore. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

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[sirowsky-stories]

Rocky Roads

Right, well this is one of two short stories I wrote the week after Halloween, obviously intending to post them around that time, only the post office in my brain lost the dang memo, so here we are.

Description: This is not a Pedro character story, just a little horror story about a woman who finds a strange rock. It's pretty much the classic "Thing" sort of vibe, just less gooey.

Warnings: This is a mini alien horror story, so you know, expect the usual horrific things.

Word Count: 925 Author's Masterlist Divider by @saradika-graphics

   It looked no different than every other amethyst she’d ever picked up, except that it was unusually big. The cave system was just half a mile from her little cabin at the edge of the desert where she usually worked, turning seemingly dull rocks into pieces of art.    But this one proved to be a challenge, which should probably have been a clue, since her equipment had never struggled to simply split a rock open before.

   Nevertheless, the stubbornness of the thing only managed to make her redouble her efforts, but when all else had failed, she finally decided to simply crush it with her hydraulic press. It wouldn’t earn her as much if she had to sell it in smaller pieces or turn them into jewellery, but at that point, she’d settle for anything.    Happily, the press worked.

   But her joy was short-lived when the first crack resulted in the entire room being flooded with bright blue light, so intense that even though she closed her eyes, it still stung them to the point where she turned away and put her hands over her face.    The press ground to a halt a moment later, automatically rising to its starting position, and then everything went quiet and still.

   She opened her eyes while still facing away from it, just in case, but since the room was only normally lit by then, she spun around to find out what had happened, only to instantly regret it.    Because between the two metal disks of the press, something was moving, trying to get out of the cracked stone.

   She stood frozen to the spot while she watched as something which had to be alien, or if not, then at least previously undiscovered, crawled out of the press and disappeared behind it. And although she didn’t get a good look at it, she could see that it was black, and not even like a raven’s feathers or a block of coal. No, it was as dark as Vantablack, the blackest black in the world, and she counted at least eight legs.

   One minute later, she was in her jeep and leaving the driveway, driving way too fast on the narrow gravel road under the moonless night sky, hoping that by the time she decided to go back out there, the thing would’ve left on its own.    She turned onto the interstate ten minutes later, gunned the engine as the tires finally had some good grip, and reached for her purse, which she’d thrown into the front passenger seat before setting off, to grab her phone.

   The purse was leather, so she was expecting the familiar smoothness of the material to greet her fingers, when instead, something dry and texturally similar to really fine flour except in a fixed shape, met her touch.    Unwilling to even entertain the possibility that the fucking thing had followed her into the car, she convinced herself that she’d imagined it and turned her head to look at the seat.

   The moment her eyes landed on it, registering that it was about the size of a corgi and that there were no eyes looking back at her, the thing suddenly moved, heading across the center console and directly towards her.    Panic set in like an instant fever, removing all thoughts of vehicle safety and every danger associated with uncontrolled driving, as she let go of the steering wheel and started trying to punch the thing away from herself, waving so manically that she managed to hit the wheel several times, sending the car off the road at a hundred miles an hour.

   It wasn’t long before another driver noticed that there was something in the ditch, over a hundred yards from the road, with a trail of broken plastic and pieces of metal littering the chaotic scene, so he decided to investigate, stopping his car so that the headlights were aimed directly at the wreck.    The jeep had rolled but it had landed upright, so when he reached the driver’s side, he could see the woman in the front seat.

   She was quite clearly dead, but he had to make sure, so he reached through the broken window to try and find the pulse point on her neck.    But the moment his hand passed into the car, something crawled up from the inside of the driver’s door, and then continued up his arm.    Waving and thrashing to try and get rid of whatever it was yielded no result, and in no time at all, it was crawling onto the back of his head, spreading its legs around the sides and over his face, and even though he tried to pull it off, he couldn’t seem to get a grip on the fucking thing.

   Screaming, since there was nothing else he could do, the last thing he felt was how something warm and slightly moist seemed to connect to his brain, inside of his skull, although he felt no pain, and then everything just sort of... seized.    Everything he was, his memories, his thoughts, it all just stopped and vanished, leaving him an empty shell, prepared to be filled with something new.

   From his car still on the hard shoulder of the interstate, the man’s five-year old daughter watched as her father climbed back into the car. And even though he looked exactly the same, she knew it wasn’t him.    Eons of evolution told her so.    But before she could do anything, the unknown man put the car in motion, and she was trapped.

THE END

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 5: Diggin’ a Hole

• Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton × OFC Stella Daniels

• Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

• Warnings: brief mention of suicide, language, I think this chapter is pretty tame?

• Word count: 3,798ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot for being a sounding board for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being a cheerleader, and allowing me to screech at her about things that have happened during the writing process. seriously couldn't have gotten this far.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! 💛🤓

Stella pulled up to the barn by the bunkhouse. When she shut off the car, she and Jimmy sat in silence and stared out the windshield. The day had hit hard, in more ways than one.

Stella breathed out a whispered, “fuck,” and rubbed her face.

Jimmy nodded, numb, still staring out the windshield. He looked over to Stella. “You gonna be okay?”

She thought carefully. “Yeah, I think so. I gotta go clear my head. Probably gonna go for a ride.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna shower before closing everyone up for the night.” Jimmy opened the door and slid a leg out before Stella’s voice stopped him.

“Jimmy I’m sorry.”

His brows pulled together. “For what?”

Stella shrugged and gestured in the direction of Kayce’s. “For all of that.”

“What do ya mean?”

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have had to experience that.”

Jimmy relaxed back into the passenger seat, one leg still against the SUV door. He twisted to face her better. “Stella, c’mon. You couldn’t have known something like that was gonna happen. It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Stella sighed. “I guess so.”

“You good?”

“I will be.” As Jimmy stepped out of the car, she remembered Rip was probably going to give him hell. “I’ll take care of Rip for you too. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” He smiled and let the door fall shut.

Stella let her head rest against the seat and zoned out on the pasture in front of her. She felt for Monica. She had lost so much in such a short amount of time. Stella couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of heartbreak Monica felt right now. There should have been something someone could have done before it came to this. ��Thinking about the what ifs and maybes isn’t helping, and won’t help.’

She must have sat there for longer than she thought when she focused back in and saw her brother walk by with his horse Blue Jeans. Hurrying into movement, she hopped out of the car. Ryan heard the flurry noise and he slowed his gait.

“Hey brub.” Stella greeted him.

He pulled his brows together. Something wasn’t right. She only called him that when she was feeling small. “Hey Stellee. What’s up?”

She gave BJ a soft pat on his rump to let him know she was there as she walked behind him. “Hey BJ,” she whispered. Placing herself in front of Ryan, she leaned into his chest, asking for a hug. To which Ryan automatically wrapped her up with his free arm.

“Woah woah, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Stella heard the panic in his voice.

A muffled reply came from her. “Yeah I’m okay. It was just a really long day.” She stroked BJ along his shoulder, finding solace in the simple act.

“You wanna talk about it?”

After a few minutes of thought, Stella straightened herself and pulled out of Ryan’s hold. “Let me go get Abigail and then we can go to the river.” She looked at BJ, “as long as he’s up for it.”

“Of course he is. Let me come help you.”

Ryan followed his little sister into the barn and watched her closely. She moved in calm, but silent motion. Her quietness bothered him. He handed her things as she reached for them. They worked like a fine oiled machine. A nice assembly line of tacking up her mare.

The aforementioned mare nuzzled at her owner occasionally, trying to elicit a response. Stella whispered to her, “hold on girl.” Ryan would almost say it looked like Stella was going to cry. Once the last piece of the puzzle was placed, Stella didn’t even wait for Ryan. She just knew he would follow.

The sibling duo made a quick pit stop to grab the other horse and prepared to set off toward the lower part of the river. “I’m gonna let her leg it out.” Stepping into her saddle, she let the bay roan take off.

The woman and her horse slowed to a walk when the river came into view. Stella heard Ryan and Blue Jeans coming up behind them. Ryan stopped BJ next to his sister and observed the thousand yard stare.

“Stella, what happened? Where’d you even go earlier?”

“I went to Kayce’s and I took Jimmy thinking Kayce and I could teach him something that would help him here.”

Ryan held off asking again because he could feel that the flood gates were about to burst.

“Well everything was going great. Jimmy was learning something, and we were all having a great time.” Stella’s heart fluttered in her chest, making it hard to catch her breath. “Then we heard a gunshot—,” she cut herself off and took a stuttering breath in. “It was Monica’s sister-in-law.”

“Wait, she?”

Stella confirmed with a solemn nod.

“Oh my god.”

“I didn’t see much because Monica took over, but I saw enough.” She leaned forward. “I wish I had words, but I don’t. I’m sorry for Monica, I’m sorry for Samantha’s kids.” Stella shook her head. “I just don’t know what I want to say.”

“And that’s okay. You don’t have to have something to say all the time.”

“I just wish there was something any of us could have done.”

“I know what you mean.”

In the silence that fell over Stella and her brother, she thought about the situation with John. There were so many things she was unsure of. Is she fired, is she staying, is she demoted? The anxiety crept up on her. It’s cold, bony hands gripping her shoulders and weaving their way to her neck.

Ryan watched Stella tense up again. He knew she was always safe here, but as of late it seemed that she was losing that comfort. “What else is going on?”

His voice broke her out of her thoughts of the situation. Stella had tried to avoid telling Ryan anything about it. She had a choice in front of her. She could lie and say it’s nothing, or she could spill the beans completely.

If she lied, Ryan would know. That was one thing she could never get away with by herself. Kayce always helped convince him, or anyone they were trying to pull the wool over on.

If she fessed up, he would most likely go on a tear to find John and argue with him. Stella didn’t want to put his livelihood and job in jeopardy alongside her. It was her stupid mistake and he shouldn’t have to take the fall with her.

“You gotta promise me you won’t go on a rampage after this.”

Ryan stiffened in his saddle. He focused his gaze directly on Stella. “I make no promises, but I’ll do my best. Go on.”

Stella took the plunge and let it all fall out. “So I overheard a conversation I shouldn’t have, and when I went to sneak away, which I now realize I should have just waited it out, Mr. Dutton saw me and now my job and time here is in the balance.” The silence that enveloped them had Stella twitching in her saddle. She could almost hear the impending explosion. “Ryan, please don’t. Don’t risk yourself trying to defend me.”

His glare locked her in place. He looked furious. Stella braced herself for the onslaught of her brother's wrath. “How dare you ask me that, Stella?”

“Ryan come on now, we both can’t afford to lose our jobs.”

“It’s not about that!”

“Then what is it about?!” She screamed back at him.

“John should know better! You’ve never had any problem with secrecy! He should know you better than that!”

“Well Ryan, I don’t know when he’s gonna decide, and I don’t have the power to make him change his mind or sway his decision.”

“Kayce would! Have you told him?”

“He’s got enough going on. I’m not dragging him into this. He would go to a whole different level of blood rage.”

“You can’t just lay down and submit. Even if he is your boss, say something damnit!” If there was one thing John hated in his employees, it was when they gave up.

Stella rolled her eyes. Ryan was right, but John’s words, you’re on thin ice little girl, ran through her head over and over. “Alright, fine,” she grumbled. “What would I even say?”

“The truth.”

“Wow, don��t you think I already did that?”

“If you would let me finish my thought,” Ryan raised his brows at her. “Tell him the truth, but we all know he can be a bully sometimes. So be a bully back.”

John just finished talking to Jamie in the house. He needed to find Rip. There were questions he needed answered about Stella. He hoped he could find the answers with his foreman. Thinking since it was late, he would try the foreman’s lodge first.

On his way down the hill in the dark, he heard hooves as they barreled away from the barn. John caught a quick glimpse of Stella and Ryan headed off to the river.

He rapped on the lodge's door which brought Rip front and center. “Sir? Is everything alright?” He stepped out onto the small porch.

“It might be, but I have a few questions.” John stopped and reflected. Rip remained wordless, waiting for John to continue. “Tell me about Stella.”

“What do you wanna know, sir?” Rip frowned. John knew Stella just as well as anyone else on the ranch.

John contemplated. “I know she’s been here a while. Hell, grown up here, really. She’s a hard worker. My son loves her. The men love her.”

Rip nodded. “Yes sir, I would agree. I’d trust her with my life. Without a doubt.”

“But can we trust her with sensitive information?”

“I believe we could. I’ve never heard anything come up otherwise. And I can’t swear to what she’s overheard in the past or not. If she’s even paid attention to it.”

“Oh, she’s paid attention to it.” John declared.

“She’s been here this long with her brother, and nothing has made her run. She’s protected all of us like a grizzly when she’s had to. Even the resident dipshit. What did she hear?”

“She heard Jamie and I talking about Kayce being identified and what to do with Lee so they couldn’t identify Kayce.”

“Oh, that kind of information.”

“Yeah. The burying kind.” John confirmed. “Does that change your mind?”

“No, sir. I could talk to her for you?”

“No. I feel like I should handle this.” John turned and left Rip standing there. He paused for a moment to mention something he’d forgotten, “oh she tried to fight Fred by the way.”

“Fuck.” Rip cursed to himself in a hushed tone. “I thought I heard some of the men talking about her landing a hit. I’ll take care of that, sir.” He would have to talk with Stella, hopefully before John got to her. Rip knew they could trust her not to say anything, but John was a hard man to convince. Even with Rip’s blessing.

John continued on his way past the round pen and into the barn. He went to go sit with Tank and remembered Stella and Ryan were gone. John opened the stallion’s stall. He placed himself at the back corner.

He sat there for about 10 minutes before he started hearing noise at the front end of the barn. He caught Stella faintly talking to her brother. He couldn’t make out what she was saying. The tone was glum from what he could tell. Her voice floated closer as she stood her mare outside the stall next to him. Ryan’s voice sounded a bit further to the left.

Tank moved to the open window and chuffed at her. Stella reached out to pet his nose from afar. “Hey buddy. You did a great job today. I hope those boys have been treating you right.” The stud brushed against her hand. She glanced at her brother over her shoulder. “Y’all been treating him right?”

Ryan laughed. “Yes, Stellee. Not many of us can touch him for long anyway.”

Stella went back to breaking down Abigail. She mumbled softly to her. “You did great today too, babe. I’m sorry I’ve been making myself scarce. I just don’t need another run in like yesterday. I don’t want us to get kicked outta here. I don’t know what I would do if that happened.” She brushed Abigail’s side softly.

Ryan interjected softly. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“How can you promise that?”

“I can’t, but I know our boss well enough. You stick to your guns, and everything will work itself out.” Ryan suggested.

“Fuck Ry, I should have known better.” Stella huffed. Abigail chuffed at her and gave her arm a hard shove with her nose, sensing her girl’s anxiety.

The siblings became aware of noise behind the large mare in front of her. Letting her shoulders drop, Stella prayed with every fiber of her being that it wasn’t John. She peeked over top of Abigail’s withers, which at 16.3 hands, was just high enough that she could just barely see over at five foot seven if she went up on her toes a bit. When she saw that it was Jimmy just coming in to close everyone up for the night, she sighed in relief. She fixed her glasses and readjusted the backwards ball cap she had on.

“Hey Jimmy.”

“Oh hey, Stella. Ryan.” When Ryan didn’t say anything, Jimmy went about closing up stall windows at the far end. “You doin’ okay, Stell?”

“Yeah I’m okay. I think. We just got back from a ride around. Had to clear my head.” She paused for a moment. “You comin’ in to shut everyone up for the night?”

“Yeah. The usual low man stuff. I had to clear my head too.”

Stella ignored the scoff from her brother. “Nah I don’t consider it low man. Being in here was some of the least stressful time I had. Out there?” Stella pointed out the barn door. “Well as you saw today… you gotta be worried about not only yourself, but everyone, and every move you make.” She continued to brush out Abigail.

Jimmy laughed. “You’ve got a point there. Can I help you out?”

Stella glanced at him over top of Abigail again and then at her brother. She debated for a minute, but decided he was harmless and it would also help her get out of here quicker.

She smiled at him. “Sure. Why not?”

They made quick work of getting the mare ready for the night. Making sure she was properly cooled off and locked up safe in her stall. With Ryan finishing his horse and lending a hand, it went even faster.

“I’m sorry the guys are hazing you so bad. It’ll get better here soon. I think you’re doing great for someone who had no previous experience.” Stella encouraged him. “And having me and maybe Kayce, if I can convince him, you’ll be great in no time.”

Ryan watched the exchange and felt the need to break up the love fest. “When did this become Stella’s School for Dipshits?”

Stella smacked Ryan’s arm, hard. “How about you shut the fuck up or else you’ll be enrolled in Stella’s School for Dumbasses Who Need to Eat Knuckles?”

“Okay okay, my bad. I’m sure you learned a lot from them both today, Jimmy. I wanna see it in action out there.” Jimmy assessed whether or not Ryan was serious. When the genuine look remained on the man’s face, he gave him a small smile.

His gaze moved back to Stella. “Thank you for standing up for me to Fred by the way. He’s batshit crazy and that wasn’t a great idea, but I appreciate it. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this though.”

“Of course, Jimmy. As for being cut out for this? None of us really are. It gets cut into us.” Ryan emphatically nodded.

“What do you mean?”

“Usually, by one way or another, we pick up on the little stuff we’re not good at. Trial and error. Learning the ropes isn’t easy. It certainly doesn’t happen overnight, either. Give it time, Jimmy. Lloyd has faith in you. So I do too.” She patted his shoulder. “Goodnight Jimmy. Thanks for the help.” She and Ryan began to wander off to the door.

“Sorry, Mr. Dutton, should I, um…,” Stella heard Jimmy utter those words and wanted to die right there. He had been in the barn the whole time. She gave a wide eyed look to her brother and picked up the pace. She could hear the men talking faintly behind her.

“You never knew your grandmother, did you?”

“No, she, uh…,” he paused and then continued, “she died when my mother was young.”

“I remember.”

That jog to the outside felt like it took forever. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding while she looked over her shoulder making sure her brother was behind her. Stella’s eyes were closed as she brought her head back forward. She opened them a second too late and ran face to chest into Rip.

She let out a little startled gasp. “Jesus, Rip!”

“Woah! You okay?” He grabbed her shoulders to steady her, but also made his eyes level with hers.

Stella nodded. “Yeah I’m fine. You just scared the shit out of me.”

Rip greeted Ryan with a nod, but continued questioning Stella. “What happened to having him back by the afternoon?”

“Something heavy came up at Kayce’s after he and I were working with him. Trying to teach him things to help him here.” Stella’s tone was soft, and she looked to the ground. She didn’t have the heart to go into the details again.

Rip saw the sensitivity and quickly changed the subject. “Ryan, you go on to the house. I have to talk to your sister for a minute.”

Ryan made eye contact with his sister, pleading with her to remain calm. Trying to convince her that everything was going to work out. He gave her a quick one armed hug before making his way to the bunkhouse.

Rip waited until he was sure Ryan was out of ear shot. “So what’s this I hear about you trying to fight Fred? Did you forget the rules?”

Stella clenched her jaw. “Oh come the fuck on. He’s a big headed bully bitch. He deserves every punch thrown at him, and you know it.”

John heard their slightly raised voices from inside the barn. He got up from his place in Tank’s stall and went to stand by the door.

Rip started, “I do, but—,” Stella interrupted.

“—and you also know as well as I do that he’s not branded. So it really shouldn’t matter.”

Rip sighed. “That’s not the point Stella.”

“Then what is it?!” She screamed at him. She was tired of people saying that to her today.

“Just because you’re miss Stella-belle, and we all love you dearly, doesn’t mean you get to break the rules and not get reprimanded for it.”

“Rip, I’m not gonna fight you. I also only technically hit him once. Enough to make my point.” Stella defended.

“Listen, I gotta bar you from the bunkhouse for a while. One hit or not.”

“What?!”

“You and Fred obviously don’t get along. He knows what buttons of yours to push. I don’t need your anger to get the better of you.”

Her head dropped back with a frustrated groan. “Okay, okay fine. I’m already walking on eggshells as it is.”

“Why?”

“When did you start asking so many questions?” Stella didn’t mind him showing concern, but she wasn’t really in the mood for another interrogation.

Rip made himself eye level with her, holding onto her shoulders. “When people started askin’ me fuckin’ questions about you.” He let go of her, but stayed eye level with her.

Stella smacked her lips. John must have spoken to Rip already. “Touché, you’ve got me there.”

“No, not “touché”. Why is he askin’ me if you can be trusted or not?”

“Let me start off with, hindsight is 20/20. Instead of doing the smart thing and announcing my presence by walking out into the barn hall, I decided to sneak out the window. Which I understand now, looks very suspicious. My first initial thought was to ignore it. I didn’t see anything, I didn’t hear anything. Just like with everything in this place.”

She started to pace. “But then, keeping up with my mindset of, I didn’t see or hear anything, I decided it was a great idea to then lie to John when I didn’t know he had seen me leave.”

Rip rubbed his eyes with his finger tips in disbelief. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Stella. Why did you see a giant pile of dog shit and think it was a good idea to step in it?!”

Stella sucked her lips inward and rubbed them together. She was in a huge pile of it, she knew that very well. She fixed her glasses and released her lips with a pop.

“In my defense, I didn’t step in it on purpose. Should I have just waited until everyone left the barn, and continued on with the ignore it mindset? Yeah. But I didn’t. And now that misstep is potentially gonna royally fuck me over.” She took a deep breath. John leaned closer to the door and made eye contact with Rip through the door. Stella’s tone got soft. Solemn.

“This place, all of the people here? Other than my own house, this is the only place that feels like home. The only ranch Ryan and I have been to that felt like that.” She slid her glasses back up her nose. “If you think I would do something like run my mouth to someone about some shit I don’t even know the context for? Risking the safety of said people and place? You guys don’t know me at all then.” She shook her head and looked to the ground.

Stella sighed. “Can I go to my house now?” Rip nodded.

As Stella walked away she heard him say to her, “we’ll get this figured out Stella. I promise.”

After Rip gave her that heavy promise, he saw the door to the barn open. John stood there and looked in the direction Stella had gone to her car. “Has she given up?” He asked his foreman.

“Not quite. She’s definitely beating herself up about it though.”

“Have her come around noon tomorrow. I think it’s safe to say she’s learned her lesson.” John started to walk away.

[beardedmrbean]

Two 16-year-old boys are accused of killing two people in a drive-by shooting at a Las Vegas house party, the 8 News Now Investigators have learned.

Late last month, a Clark County grand jury voted to indict Jesus Martin-Guerrero and Noah Sierra on charges connected to the murders, records said. Specific details about the case and the boys’ arrests have never been made public.

On July 13, Metro police received several calls about the shooting near Owens Avenue and Mohave Road in the east valley. One of the people at the party, Erik Roque, 18, died from a gunshot wound to his face, police said. A second shooting victim, Efrain Guevara, 20, died at a hospital from shooting injuries to his torso.

Several other shooting victims survived their injuries, police said.

The party’s host told police she often hosts parties and invites people via social media. The night of the party, a group of men was denied entry to the party because the host did not know them, police said.

A short time after the group was denied entry, a white sedan drove by and opened fire, killing Roque and Guevara, police said. Video surveillance obtained from the neighborhood showed the shooting with gunshots coming out of a passenger window.

All of the shooting victims were outside of the home or on the sidewalk at the time of the shooting, police said.

Police whittled down potential suspects by comparing Instagram posts and surveillance video, they said. Detectives later found a previous incident from April involving Sierra. Sierra was also named a person of interest in a June drive-by shooting where dozens of bullets impacted an occupied home, police said.

Officers arrested the teenagers on Aug. 8, police said.

Detectives later obtained a video which they said showed Sierra driving the vehicle. Martin-Guerrero posted on social media about a specific handgun, which police believe matched cartridges found at the murder scene.

Martin-Guerrero and Sierra each face 42 charges, including two counts of murder with the use of a deadly weapon and 22 counts of attempted murder, records said. Both pleaded not guilty. A trial was scheduled for next summer.

Teenagers age 16 and older who are accused of murder are automatically certified as adults in the Nevada justice system.

[derraceserrano]

"An old woman will arrive at the station at 2:47 AM, she will not have enough money to pay the fare, let her in anyway. She will then board an unscheduled train at 3:00 AM. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TURN HER AWAY UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES." The paper said. I found it while going through the drawers of the old filing cabinet, just sitting on top of some folders. It was written in shaky handwriting, addressed to the worker of the ticket booth, dated for today. Tonight. I looked at my watch, it was 2:40 AM.

7 minutes, I had 7 minutes. I grabbed the paper and walked a few steps back to the front of the booth and looked out the window. The platform was empty, spare the homeless man who camped out with his dog and his guitar, every night it rained. We were told to kick him out if he stayed for longer than an hour and didn’t buy a ticket, but none of us ever listened to that. We’d bring him food, blankets, dog treats, and whatever we had spare. He was a sweetheart, really, nicest guy you’d ever meet. I looked at the clock hanging above the tracks. 2:41 AM.

5 minutes. I moved the mouse and jolted the old computer out of its sleep and tapped the old ticket printer until I heard its fan start to whirl. Was I supposed to give her a ticket, even if she couldn’t pay? Would the system let me, or would I have to cover the rest of the fare myself? An unscheduled train? Is that even safe? There is a scheduled train for 3 AM, from here to just a few towns over. Could the paper be referring to that one? I looked at the clock in the bottom corner of the computer. It said 2:42 AM.

2 minutes. What was I talking about? This paper couldn’t mean anything. A prank from one of my co workers, it had to be. I should’ve text them. We had a group chat for stuff like that after all, strange happenings and whatnot. Working the night shift at a train station wasn’t for the faint of heart. Who was I kidding, my heart was the faintest out of everyone I knew. I picked up my phone. 2:47 AM. What?

I looked up, and she stood there. An old woman, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and shadowing her face. I stared at her. “Young man?” she asked, her voice rough but delicate.

“Oh, um. I’m sorry, how can I help you?” I replied, putting on my best retail worker smile.

“I need a ticket, please,” she said, dropping a few dollars and coins into the little divot under the divider.

I took the money and began counting it. “You’re um…” No, I thought. I can’t turn her away. I opened the register and placed the money inside. I went to type the information on the computer, but when I moved the mouse it wouldn’t turn on. The printer whirred and out came a ticket. I stared at it. 

“Young man, are you feeling alright?” the woman asked. I whipped my head up and looked at her. I grabbed the ticket off the printer and slid it into the divot. In a blink it was gone and she was walking away.

She sat on the bench next to the one the man usually slept on. Next to was a strong word, the benches were all 12 feet apart, giving room for crowds. I heard a rumbling, a growling, and tried to look closer. The man’s dog, Jonny, was standing now, staring at her, growling. The old woman didn’t acknowledge him. She didn’t acknowledge anything. She sat, staring at the tracks, waiting. I looked at the clock above her, 2:59 AM.

A train pulled up to the platform, blowing its horn and waking the old man. He looked at the growling dog and pulled him close, petting his head. The woman made no move to get up as a few drunken stragglers stumbled off and up the stairs, throwing a few dollars at the man as they passed. As the train began to pull away, the woman stood. 

No horns, no sounds of the train coming at all, but a second train crashes into the back of the first. It crushed the first 2 cars it hit, smashing into the third, sending passengers clawing at the automatic doors and screaming. The crushed cars were on fire, and it was spreading fast. The passengers flooded from the remaining cars, bloodied and terrified. The old man stood and grabbed his dog, joining the swarm that ran up the stairs. Sirens blared throughout the subway, and I stood there, shocked. EMTs, plaicemen, firemen, flooded into the station, yelling orders to one another. The woman looked back at me for a final time, gave me a small smile, and stepped into the flames.

3:01 AM. It was all gone.

An old woman will arrive at the station at 2:47 AM, she will not have enough money to pay the fare, let her in anyway. She will then board an unscheduled train at 3:00 AM. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TURN HER AWAY UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

[globalresearchinsights]

Railway Telematics Market Sees Strong Growth With Deployment of Cloud-Based Data Analytics Platforms

Market Overview

The Railway Telematics Market is evolving rapidly as digitalization becomes central to modern rail infrastructure. With global railway networks expanding and modernizing, the integration of telematics systems is transforming how railways operate—improving efficiency, safety, and customer experience. Telematics in the railway industry involves the use of GPS, GSM, Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and satellite communication technologies to collect, transmit, and analyze data related to train operations, fleet condition, passenger information, and logistics. In 2024, the market is seeing increasing adoption across freight and passenger trains, driven by the need for smarter fleet management, predictive maintenance, and enhanced security.

Railway telematics finds key applications in fleet management, automatic passenger counting, remote diagnostics, and predictive maintenance. These systems are enabling rail operators and logistics service providers to optimize operations, reduce downtimes, and increase return on assets through real-time data insights.

Click to Request a Sample of this Report for Additional Market Insights: https://www.globalinsightservices.com/request-sample/?id=GIS21096 

Market Dynamics

The growth of the railway telematics market is strongly driven by rising investments in smart transportation infrastructure and a growing demand for efficient freight operations. The increasing reliance on logistics and intermodal transport has made real-time tracking and asset management essential. Technologies like GPS and satellite communication are playing a crucial role in route optimization and fleet visibility.

Furthermore, the growing emphasis on safety and surveillance in public transport is encouraging rail operators to implement advanced telematics solutions. Communication devices, sensors, processors, and display units are now integrated into modern trains to monitor system health, detect anomalies, and prevent breakdowns.

However, challenges such as high installation costs—especially in retrofit scenarios—can hinder market growth, particularly in regions with aging rail infrastructure. Interoperability between systems, data privacy concerns, and the need for standardization across international rail networks are also pressing issues that companies and governments must address.

Key Players Analysis

The railway telematics market features a competitive landscape, with both global conglomerates and niche solution providers contributing to innovation. Leading players are actively focusing on offering customized solutions, combining onboard and remote telematics technologies, and strengthening services such as consulting, integration, deployment, and support.

Major companies are investing in R&D to develop advanced components like high-performance sensors, real-time communication devices, and intelligent data processors. These efforts aim to improve reliability, lower maintenance costs, and extend the life cycle of railway assets. Strategic collaborations with government bodies and logistics firms are also driving market penetration.

Regional Analysis

Europe currently dominates the railway telematics market, fueled by robust rail infrastructure, proactive government initiatives, and widespread adoption of digital technologies in transportation. Countries such as Germany, France, and the UK have led the charge in integrating telematics for both passenger and freight trains.

North America follows closely, with a rising focus on smart freight operations, especially in the U.S. and Canada. Investments in predictive maintenance and fleet optimization are propelling demand in this region. The Asia-Pacific region is emerging as a fast-growing market due to rapid urbanization, infrastructure development, and increasing adoption of high-speed trains in countries like China, India, and Japan.

Meanwhile, Latin America and the Middle East & Africa regions are witnessing gradual uptake, supported by government efforts to modernize aging railway systems and improve operational efficiency.

Recent News & Developments

Recent developments in the railway telematics market highlight the trend toward integrated, cloud-based telematics platforms. Companies are launching end-to-end telematics solutions that support both new installations and retrofitting of legacy systems. In addition, AI-powered predictive maintenance systems and IoT-enabled sensors are being adopted at scale to reduce unexpected breakdowns and optimize scheduling.

Strategic partnerships are also being forged between technology vendors and railway authorities to pilot smart train initiatives. There's a visible push toward enhancing security and surveillance capabilities on trains through real-time video analytics and remote monitoring systems.

Browse Full Report @ https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/railway-telematics-market/ 

Scope of the Report

This report provides a comprehensive assessment of the Railway Telematics Market through 2034, covering various market segments including type, product, services, technology, component, application, end-user, solution, and installation type. Key areas of analysis include fleet management, predictive maintenance, onboard vs. remote telematics, consulting services, and technology adoption.

The report also offers forecasts and trends based on regional performance and competitive dynamics. It aims to equip stakeholders—rail operators, logistics service providers, and technology developers—with actionable insights to harness the transformative power of telematics in the railway ecosystem.

As the railway industry embraces the digital age, telematics stands at the forefront of smarter, safer, and more sustainable train operations worldwide.

Discover Additional Market Insights from Global Insight Services:

Submersible Pump Market: https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/submersible-pump-market/

Commercial Aircraft Maintenance Tooling Market: https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/commercial-aircraft-maintenance-tooling-market/

Top 10 Companies in the Small Caliber Ammunition Market: https://www.globalinsightservices.com/insight/top-10-companies-in-the-small-caliber-ammunition-market/

Military Satellite Market: https://www.globalinsightservices.com/press-releases/military-satellite-market/

Industrial Hoses Market: https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/industrial-hoses-market/

[sweatybelieverfun]

Automotive HVAC Market Future Trends Driven by Electrification, Climate Control Innovations, and Sustainability Goals

The automotive HVAC market is undergoing transformative change, spurred by advancements in electric mobility, rising consumer expectations for cabin comfort, and the need for energy-efficient climate control systems. HVAC systems, once considered standard features, are now playing a central role in vehicle design as automakers seek to enhance passenger experience, optimize energy use, and reduce emissions. As we look toward the future, key trends are emerging that will shape the evolution of automotive HVAC technology and market dynamics.

One of the most significant drivers of future trends in this market is the rise of electric vehicles (EVs) and hybrid electric vehicles (HEVs). Unlike internal combustion engine (ICE) vehicles, EVs lack a traditional engine-generated heat source, necessitating innovative HVAC solutions. This shift has led to the development of energy-efficient systems such as heat pumps, PTC (Positive Temperature Coefficient) heaters, and electric compressors. These technologies help maintain cabin temperature without compromising the battery range—an essential factor in EV performance and user satisfaction.

Moreover, the future will witness greater integration of HVAC systems with battery thermal management. In EVs, controlling battery temperature is crucial to performance, charging speed, and longevity. Modern HVAC units are increasingly designed to work in tandem with battery cooling and heating systems, forming an integrated thermal management architecture. This development is fostering new product opportunities for manufacturers who can design smart, multi-functional HVAC units that optimize both cabin and battery environments.

Another emerging trend is the adoption of smart HVAC systems with advanced sensors and AI-based controls. Future vehicles will offer personalized climate settings based on passenger preferences, weather conditions, and driving behavior. Sensors will monitor humidity, CO₂ levels, cabin occupancy, and air quality, allowing the HVAC system to automatically adjust airflow, temperature, and filtration levels. This evolution aligns with broader trends in vehicle personalization and enhances both comfort and efficiency.

Air purification and filtration technologies are also gaining traction. Growing concerns about air pollution and in-cabin air quality are driving demand for HVAC systems equipped with HEPA filters, ionizers, and PM2.5 sensors. These features are becoming particularly important in urban markets and regions with high pollution levels. As health consciousness grows, air quality will become a major selling point for automotive HVAC systems in both the luxury and mass-market segments.

Another major trend is the push toward lightweight and compact HVAC components. To meet fuel efficiency and range requirements, automakers are focusing on reducing the weight and size of all vehicle components, including HVAC units. Innovations in materials, compact design, and integrated functionality are enabling HVAC systems to deliver superior performance with reduced energy consumption and space requirements. This trend is especially relevant for electric and compact city vehicles where every cubic inch counts.

Sustainability is becoming a dominant theme in the automotive HVAC market. The transition to eco-friendly refrigerants is a key development in line with global climate change goals. Regulatory bodies are phasing out high-GWP (Global Warming Potential) refrigerants and promoting alternatives like R-1234yf, which has a much lower environmental impact. HVAC system manufacturers must adapt their designs to comply with these regulations while maintaining efficiency and safety.

In addition to sustainable refrigerants, the circular economy approach is influencing product development. Recyclable materials, energy-efficient manufacturing processes, and longer product lifecycles are being emphasized. Tier-1 suppliers are working closely with OEMs to ensure that HVAC systems align with vehicle sustainability goals and environmental certifications.

From a regional perspective, Asia-Pacific is expected to lead the HVAC market’s future growth, driven by rising vehicle production, increasing demand for comfort features, and rapid urbanization. China and India, in particular, are investing heavily in EV infrastructure and emission-reduction policies, creating a favorable environment for advanced HVAC technologies. Europe and North America will continue to focus on premium offerings, energy efficiency, and sustainability, shaping high-value segments of the market.

Technological convergence will further shape the HVAC landscape. Integration with connected vehicle platforms will allow remote HVAC control through mobile apps and voice assistants. Pre-conditioning of the cabin before the driver enters, remote diagnostics, and over-the-air updates will enhance user experience and create added value for automakers.

The autonomous vehicle segment presents unique HVAC challenges and opportunities. Without driver intervention, maintaining passenger comfort becomes critical. HVAC systems in autonomous vehicles must intelligently manage airflow, zoning, and air quality based on AI predictions and real-time sensor feedback. These smart systems will redefine climate control as a core feature of self-driving cars.

In conclusion, the automotive HVAC market is set for a future shaped by innovation, electrification, and sustainability. Manufacturers that embrace smart technology, energy-efficient designs, and environmental responsibility will be best positioned to lead. As consumers demand greater comfort, cleaner air, and smarter systems, the HVAC industry will evolve into a strategic pillar of next-generation vehicle design and performance.

[samholic]

Building Safer Roads with Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification

In every city, road safety remains one of the most pressing and persistent challenges. With rising traffic volumes, diverse vehicle types, and unpredictable road behavior, ensuring the safety of all road users—drivers, pedestrians, cyclists, and public transport passengers—requires more than just traffic signs and speed limits.

Today, cities are turning to smart technology to make roads safer. At the forefront of this innovation is Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification (ATCC)—a system that offers real-time, accurate insights into traffic flow and vehicle types, enabling data-backed safety interventions that save lives.

Understanding ATCC in the Context of Safety

Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification systems work by detecting, tracking, and classifying vehicles based on their size and type—such as two-wheelers, passenger cars, trucks, and buses—using a mix of sensors, radars, and video analytics. These systems run continuously, providing city authorities with precise data on where, when, and what types of vehicles are moving across the urban landscape.

When it comes to road safety, this kind of information is powerful. Instead of guessing where accidents might happen, traffic authorities can rely on ATCC data to pinpoint high-risk zones, understand unsafe driving behavior patterns, and deploy targeted interventions.

Identifying High-Risk Zones Before Crashes Happen

Traditionally, accident-prone areas are identified after crashes have occurred, often through police reports and public complaints. This reactive approach delays life-saving improvements.

With Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification, cities can take a proactive stance. By analyzing traffic flow, speed variations, and vehicle types across intersections and highways, ATCC systems can highlight zones where risky driving behaviors are more frequent—such as frequent lane changing, speeding by heavy vehicles, or mixed traffic conflicts.

These insights allow authorities to implement early safety measures, like installing speed bumps, redesigning intersections, or adding pedestrian signals before serious accidents occur.

Managing Speed with Real-Time Data

Speeding is a leading cause of road fatalities. However, blanket speed limits often fail to account for road-specific risk factors like vehicle type, lane width, pedestrian presence, or time of day.

ATCC helps solve this by providing real-time vehicle classification along with speed data. Authorities can identify if heavy trucks are exceeding safe limits on narrow city roads or if two-wheelers are racing during off-peak hours. This data supports the dynamic adjustment of speed limits and enforcement efforts tailored to specific conditions—making roads safer for everyone.

Improving Pedestrian and Cyclist Safety

In most cities, pedestrians and cyclists are the most vulnerable road users. Unfortunately, they’re often overlooked in traffic design due to a lack of data.

Advanced Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification systems can identify non-motorized traffic such as bicycles and even detect pedestrian movement in crosswalk zones. When this data is combined with traffic volume and vehicle classification, it offers a complete picture of road usage.

With this insight, planners can add bike lanes, pedestrian crossings, refuge islands, or signalized intersections in the right places—effectively reducing pedestrian and cyclist injuries.

Enabling Smarter Enforcement and Regulation

Enforcement is a crucial part of road safety, but deploying traffic police or surveillance equipment everywhere is neither feasible nor cost-effective.

That’s where ATCC helps. By identifying zones with high volumes of speeding, improper vehicle movement, or red-light violations (when combined with video systems), traffic enforcement can become targeted. Cameras and officers can be deployed precisely where needed—leading to better compliance with fewer resources.

In addition, Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification systems can be integrated with digital signage to provide speed warnings or real-time alerts to drivers in sensitive areas such as school zones, construction sites, or accident-prone curves.

Safety-Driven Infrastructure Design

Building safer roads starts with better design—and better design starts with accurate data. ATCC systems provide the information planners need to understand how infrastructure is being used, whether it’s a residential street or a national highway.

For instance:

If ATCC detects frequent heavy truck traffic in an area not designed for it, the road surface may need reinforcement.

If two-wheeler traffic dominates a narrow lane with high accident rates, a divider or lane expansion might be justified.

If school zones see increased morning congestion, authorities can schedule temporary traffic diversions or increase crossings.

Rather than relying on assumptions, cities can use Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification to design infrastructure that supports actual traffic patterns safely.

Real-Life Example: Targeted Road Safety Using ATCC

A mid-sized city in Southeast Asia installed ATCC systems at 50 intersections. Within months, data revealed a troubling pattern: buses and trucks were frequently speeding in areas with high pedestrian activity. Authorities used this insight to redesign road signage, install bus-priority lanes, and implement AI-based signal timing.

In less than six months, pedestrian injuries decreased by 30%, and average vehicle speed dropped to within legal limits. This real-world success shows how ATCC isn't just theoretical—it’s a proven solution to urban safety concerns.

The Future: AI-Enhanced ATCC for Predictive Safety

The next generation of Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification systems will integrate machine learning to predict safety risks before they arise. By analyzing historical patterns, weather conditions, and event schedules, these systems will be able to warn traffic control centers of expected congestion or risky driving zones in advance.

This predictive capability will transform road safety from reactive to preventive—reducing accidents, saving lives, and creating more resilient cities.

Conclusion: A Safer Journey Begins with Smarter Technology

Road safety is not just about enforcement or infrastructure—it's about knowledge. With Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification, cities gain the visibility they need to act swiftly, wisely, and effectively.

From identifying high-risk zones to enabling smarter enforcement and designing safer streets, ATCC systems are essential tools for every smart city aiming to protect its citizens.

The future of traffic safety is real-time, data-driven, and proactive—and it starts with Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification.

[shizukaseo]

Transforming Highways with AI-Based Traffic Management Systems

As our highways grow busier and more complex, the demand for smarter, more efficient traffic control is undeniable. Traditional traffic enforcement systems, dependent on human intervention, are often reactive, inconsistent, and limited in scope. Enter the AI-based traffic management system—a transformative technology that combines real-time analytics, automation, and machine learning to revolutionize how we manage and monitor highway traffic.

This blog explores how AI is redefining traffic management through vehicle detection, violation enforcement, and traffic classification, with real-world applications and insights to understand its growing importance in building safer and smarter roads.

The Core of AI-Based Traffic Monitoring

At the heart of an AI-based traffic management system lies its ability to collect and process vast volumes of real-time data. Equipped with cameras, sensors, and AI algorithms, these systems can identify, interpret, and act upon various traffic conditions and violations in real time.

From detecting license plates to classifying vehicles and tracking violations, AI systems offer unmatched speed and precision. Let’s break down the three core components powering this transformation:

1. Vehicle Make, Model, and Number Plate Detection

One of the most essential features of modern AI traffic management is vehicle identification. Advanced computer vision algorithms now allow for:

Vehicle Make & Model Recognition: Detects and categorizes vehicles based on appearance using trained AI models.

Number Plate Detection (ANPR): Reads license plates using Automatic Number Plate Recognition (ANPR) technology.

This technology is crucial for highway safety and enforcement. Authorities can:

Track Stolen Vehicles: Real-time tracking makes it easier to recover stolen cars.

Ensure Speed Compliance: By linking vehicle IDs with speed detection, violators can be automatically penalized.

Enhance Border Security: Enables region-wise data access and movement patterns of vehicles.

2. Real-Time Violation Detection

Road safety heavily depends on the ability to detect violations and respond swiftly. With AI-based traffic management systems, violations are detected automatically and enforcement actions are taken instantly, reducing the burden on human officers.

Common Violations Detected:

Triple Riding: AI identifies motorcycles carrying more than two passengers, a major road hazard.

No Helmet Detection: Computer vision tracks helmet usage to ensure compliance.

Over Speeding: Speed detection cameras linked to AI algorithms monitor speed limits.

No Seatbelt: Identifies drivers and passengers not wearing seatbelts, especially in high-speed zones.

Wrong Direction: Detects vehicles traveling against traffic flow to prevent collisions.

Wrong Lane Use: Flags unauthorized lane usage (e.g., bus or emergency lanes).

Banned Vehicles: Detects commercial or high-emission vehicles in restricted zones.

No Parking/Stalled Vehicle: Identifies illegal parking or breakdowns to prevent traffic build-up.

The AI system’s ability to issue digital challans (fines), alert authorities, or guide law enforcement to violators ensures more consistent and efficient enforcement.

3. Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification (ATCC)

Beyond enforcement, highway authorities need to understand traffic behavior and infrastructure needs. Automatic Traffic Counting and Classification (ATCC) enables real-time monitoring and segmentation of traffic by vehicle type, time, and location.

Vehicle Classifications Typically Tracked:

2-Wheelers (Motorcycles)

3-Wheelers (Auto-rickshaws)

4-Wheelers (Cars, SUVs)

Light Commercial Vehicles (4/6-Tire)

Mini Light Commercial Vehicles

2 to 6-Axle Trucks

Heavy Commercial Machinery (HCM)

Tractors, Goods Auto, Buses, Mini Buses

Cycles and Light Goods Vehicles (LGV)

ATCC data enables:

Traffic Flow Analysis: Understand volume trends across time slots.

Infrastructure Planning: Identify needs for road expansions or maintenance.

Smart City Integration: Coordinate with broader intelligent transport systems.

Optimized Toll Collection: Dynamic pricing based on vehicle class and time.

Case Study: South Korea’s AI-Driven Highway Monitoring

South Korea has implemented an integrated AI-based traffic management system across major highways. The system combines ANPR, ATCC, and violation detection into a unified control center.

Results:

20% reduction in road accidents due to automated enforcement.

30% improvement in emergency response times.

Real-time updates for commuters through integrated apps.

Significant fuel savings from smoother traffic flow.

This comprehensive approach highlights the power of combining multiple AI capabilities into one intelligent system.

Benefits of AI Traffic Management on Highways

1. Enhanced Road Safety

AI proactively detects and prevents risky behavior, leading to fewer accidents.

2. Reduced Congestion

Traffic patterns can be optimized dynamically, minimizing bottlenecks.

3. Data-Driven Decision-Making

Authorities receive rich, real-time data to inform planning and investments.

4. Operational Efficiency

Reduces dependency on manual monitoring, freeing up human resources.

5. Environmental Impact

Fewer traffic jams = less fuel burned and lower emissions.

6. Smart Infrastructure Growth

Lays the groundwork for autonomous vehicles and future mobility solutions.

The Future of AI-Based Traffic Management Systems

The next generation of AI traffic management will be even more advanced:

Predictive Analytics: AI will forecast congestion and reroute traffic in advance.

Autonomous Enforcement: Drones and mobile AI units will handle dynamic situations.

Vehicle-to-Infrastructure (V2I) Communication: AI systems will connect with smart vehicles to share real-time updates.

AI + IoT Integration: IoT sensors embedded in roads will feed AI models with infrastructure-level data.

As smart cities evolve, these systems will become central to urban mobility.

Challenges and Considerations

Despite the benefits, certain challenges must be addressed:

Privacy Concerns: Data collection must follow ethical and legal frameworks.

High Initial Investment: Infrastructure setup is capital-intensive.

System Maintenance: Requires regular updates, calibration, and power backups.

False Positives: AI models need to be well-trained to avoid misidentification.

Conclusion: The AI Highway Revolution Has Begun

An AI-based traffic management system is not just a futuristic concept—it is actively reshaping how highways function. From identifying violations and classifying vehicles to enabling informed infrastructure decisions, AI is making highways safer, smarter, and more sustainable.

As we move toward a future of autonomous transport and intelligent cities, these technologies will become foundational. For governments, city planners, and law enforcement agencies, adopting AI traffic management isn’t just a tech upgrade—it’s a necessity for the next era of mobility.

[b2bmarketplacesindelhi12333]

@+91 9664450571 - Top Car Repair and Maintenance Services in Jalore You Can Trust

When it comes to keeping your vehicle running smoothly, choosing a reliable auto repair service is essential. Whether it’s a minor issue like an oil change or a major concern like engine repair, car owners in Jalore need a trustworthy mechanic who offers quality and timely service. Thankfully, Shri Balaji Crane Services has earned a solid reputation for offering some of the best car repair services in Jalore.

Let’s explore why Shri Balaji Crane Services is the go-to destination for all things automotive, and what makes them stand out in the crowded car service market.

Comprehensive Car Repair Services in Jalore

One of the key strengths of Shri Balaji Crane Services is their wide range of automotive repair and maintenance offerings. If your car isn’t performing as it should, you can confidently visit their workshop for the best car repair in Jalore. Their team of skilled mechanics uses modern diagnostic tools to identify and fix problems quickly and efficiently.

Top-Rated Car AC and Engine Repair in Jalore

Struggling with a failing air conditioning system in the scorching heat? Shri Balaji Crane Services provides best car AC repair in Jalore, restoring cool comfort to your drives. They handle everything from gas refills to compressor issues.

Likewise, if your vehicle shows signs of engine trouble—like knocking sounds, reduced power, or overheating—you can count on their best engine repair in Jalore to get your vehicle back in top shape. Their expert mechanics are trained to repair petrol and diesel engines with precision.

Routine Maintenance and Oil Changes

Regular maintenance is the key to extending your vehicle’s life. For those looking for expert vehicle maintenance in Jalore, this service center offers periodic inspections, part replacements, and system checks. They also specialize in car oil change services, ensuring your engine stays well-lubricated and performs efficiently.

Suspension, Brake & Transmission Experts

Suspension issues can make your ride uncomfortable and dangerous. Shri Balaji Crane Services offers the top car suspension repair in Jalore, handling shock absorbers, struts, springs, and wheel alignment to bring back that smooth driving experience.

When it comes to safety, your brakes are non-negotiable. Their top car brake repair in Jalore ensures responsive braking with repairs and replacements of pads, rotors, and hydraulic systems.

They also specialize in car transmission repair, a crucial yet often overlooked part of vehicle upkeep. Transmission problems can be tricky, but their team is well-equipped to manage both automatic and manual systems.

Why Choose Shri Balaji Crane Services?

What sets Shri Balaji Crane Services apart is their dedication to quality, transparency, and customer satisfaction. Their top car repair in Jalore includes detailed explanations of the problem, upfront pricing, and the use of genuine parts. They don’t just fix your car—they educate you about your vehicle’s needs so you can avoid future issues.

Whether you need a quick fix or a full diagnostic, you’re in good hands. Their team is professional, courteous, and driven by the desire to provide the best customer experience.

Final Thoughts

A well-maintained car not only enhances your driving experience but also keeps you and your passengers safe. For residents in and around Jalore, Shri Balaji Crane Services remains a one-stop solution for all types of automotive problems. From best car AC repair to suspension fixes and engine repairs, they deliver unmatched service.

Don't wait until a minor issue turns into a major repair. Visit their garage today and experience the difference in expert car care!

[afrestudios]

Simplifying Train Travel: Fastest Way to Book Tatkal Tickets Today

Rushing Against Time? Tatkal Booking is the Answer Every minute counts when planning last-minute travel in India, especially with the ever-busy railway network. For many passengers, securing a ticket in time is a race against the clock. This is where the tatkal railway ticket booking scheme becomes a game-changer. Designed for urgent travel needs, tatkal services allow passengers to book confirmed tickets just a day before the journey. The demand, however, is incredibly high, and only the quickest and most informed succeed. In this article, the focus is on the growing significance of smart, faster ticketing solutions and how they are changing the travel experience. The discussion will particularly highlight how effective tools, timing, and smart services like Afre Studios can make the process less stressful.

What is Tatkal and Why is it Important? Tatkal is a special ticketing scheme introduced by Indian Railways to accommodate travelers with sudden plans. It opens one day before the train’s departure, and the available tickets usually get booked within minutes. Over the years, the competition to book these tickets has become more intense. Many now opt for the faster and slightly costlier premium tatkal booking option, which offers better chances of confirmation due to a dynamically priced quota system. This version is ideal for those willing to pay a little more for guaranteed seats. Whether it's business trips, family emergencies, or spontaneous plans, tatkal ensures flexibility in an otherwise rigid railway booking system.

Understanding the Challenges in Tatkal Ticketing Despite its benefits, tatkal booking comes with its fair share of challenges. The limited number of seats, high internet traffic during booking hours, and the strict booking rules often lead to frustration. Moreover, bookings can only be made online or at designated counters, and users need to act within seconds to succeed. Speed, precision, and reliable tools are crucial to secure a tatkal train ticket successfully. Many travelers are turning to automation services and browser extensions that autofill forms to beat the clock. These tools are especially useful during peak travel seasons when the chances of getting a confirmed tatkal ticket drop significantly.

The Role of Technology in Smarter Booking Technology plays an essential role in transforming the tatkal experience. By integrating faster payment gateways, autofill tools, and optimized browsing platforms, the booking time can be drastically reduced. Innovations such as AI-enabled alerts for ticket availability and predictive seat allocation are becoming more common. Services like Afre Studios are stepping into the spotlight by offering solutions that assist in faster and more efficient booking processes. These solutions do not book tickets automatically but streamline the process in compliance with IRCTC regulations, making it easier for users to act swiftly. The integration of such smart platforms can make the process smoother and improve success rates for last-minute travelers.

Why Quick Access Matters in Tatkal Ticket Booking In a system where seconds decide success, efficiency matters. The current scenario of tatkal ticket booking has evolved beyond manual input and trial-and-error attempts. Knowing the exact time to start booking, having pre-filled forms, and using multiple devices have become common strategies. More importantly, platforms that offer intuitive design, fast processing, and intelligent updates give users a real advantage. The need for real-time information and seamless access has never been more urgent. With tools that enhance speed and accuracy, travelers can shift from uncertain to confident booking experiences, all within a very short time frame.

Conclusion: Making Every Second Count with Smart Tatkal Solutions Tatkal ticketing, whether standard or premium, is now an essential part of Indian railway travel. The combination of limited availability and high demand makes it challenging, but not impossible. The key lies in smart preparation, the use of technology, and reliable services like Afre Studios, which simplify the process without breaching any rules. With options like premium tatkal booking for those in urgent need, and faster interfaces making it easier to secure a tatkal railway ticket, travel can become less stressful and more predictable.

[taxidispatchsoftware]

Taxi Dispatch Software: How Digital Technology Is Changing the Taxi World

The moment I switched from paper ride tickets to taxi dispatch software, it felt like I had jumped forward in time. As a taxi driver managing a small fleet, I knew efficiency was key, but I never expected technology to have such a big impact on how I ran my business.

In this article, I’ll take you through my experience with dispatch software. From my initial doubts to the benefits it brought to my planning, drivers, and customers. If you run a taxi company, you know every minute counts. But how do you make the most of those minutes? That’s where the journey with modern taxi dispatch software begins.

What Is Taxi Dispatch Software and Why Do You Need It?

Taxi dispatch software is an automated system that schedules rides, assigns drivers, and keeps customers informed in real-time. Instead of answering phone calls and manually managing schedules, everything happens through one centralized digital platform.

My old system worked fine — until I started to grow. With five drivers, it turned into chaos: double bookings, confusion about pickup points, and unhappy customers. That’s when I discovered software could help bring back structure and calm.

How Does It Work in Practice?

When I switched to taxi dispatch software, I gained access to a dashboard where I could see where my drivers were in real-time. The software automatically matched the nearest driver to a customer, optimized routes, and sent notifications to passengers.

A customer would book a ride through the app — I’d get a notification immediately, so would the driver, and the customer could see exactly when the taxi would arrive. No more phone calls. No more confusion. Just a smooth experience for everyone involved.

Calculations: What Does It Deliver?

You might be wondering: what does it cost, and what do you get in return? Here’s how I evaluated it myself:

Time savings: Automation saved me an average of 2 hours a day on planning.

Cost savings: Fewer misunderstandings meant fewer missed rides.

More rides: Customers received quicker service, which led to more bookings.

Customer satisfaction: My Google reviews rose from an average of 3.8 to 4.6 stars.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)

Is taxi dispatch software hard to install?

Not at all. Most solutions like Codico.io offer installation support and are fully cloud-based. You can get started in a single day.

What if my drivers aren’t tech-savvy?

I had the same thought, but the interface is so intuitive that even my oldest driver uses it without any problems.

Do I need to invest in expensive hardware?

No. Everything works via smartphones or tablets. If you already have a working phone, you're good to go.

Is it suitable for small businesses?

Absolutely. I started with just three vehicles, and the software easily scaled as I grew.

Reflection: What Did It Teach Me?

What surprised me the most was how much peace of mind it brought. I could finally focus on improving service instead of constantly putting out fires. The system gave me insights into who was driving the most, where the majority of requests came from, and how I could optimize my pricing.

The switch wasn’t just a business decision — it was a personal one. Less stress, more clarity, and ultimately: more profit.

Conclusion: Taxi Dispatch Software Is Not a Luxury, But a Necessity

In a time when customers expect everything to be fast, clear, and reliable, taxi dispatch software is an essential component. It makes your business more efficient, more customer-focused, and ready for the future.

My advice? Start small, but think big. Whether you’re just getting started or have been active for years — the right system can transform your taxi business. And believe me: you’ll never want to go back to the old way.