#and it doesn't help I'm having severe anxiety again about taking up too much space

[forbiddennhoney]

would y'all still think I'm hot if i slammed my head into a wall repeatedly until i started bleeding?

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Space ~ B.A.

A/n: LOVE touching on the way Iris and Barry create their relationship by high key sabotaging every other possibility bc they feel inevitable... great shit.

Request: “Barry x male reader, reader and Barry been having issues so reader goes to stay with Kara for awhile.” By anon

Word Count: 2,000+

MASTERLIST

"So... are we going to talk about that?"

Y/n's jaw worked as he mulled over Kara's question. He couldn't expect her not to ask questions after all of that. She was a good friend, she worried. And Y/n didn't want to spend this entire trip running from his feelings. It would only make things worse.

On the other hand he really didn't want to talk about it.

But that may have been him trying to run from his feelings. Like usual. How well did that ever go?

He looked at her, taking in her barely contained curiosity and anxiety. The last time she had run into Barry and his boyfriend the two were newly in love after ages of pining and beating around the bush. They were full of relief at being able to hold hands and use pet names, and got borderline ridiculous if they ever kissed. Kara had joked they were the goal; the base line. Someone would look at her that way someday.

Now the two men were cold and distant, and when they'd gotten Kara the help she needed and Barry went to go back to his own world Y/n had asked to stay? In an entirely different universe where Barry Allen didn't even know who Y/n L/n was. Had never even heard of him. They were complete strangers in this world.

Sighing, Y/n leaned against the desk behind him and Kara tried not to grin as she realized he was about to talk about his feelings. Y/n never did such things no matter how many times she prodded and begged - but this was not a situation that called for smiling or teasing. She listened instead as Y/n began, "Barry and I have been having problems."

Kara raised an eyebrow. She was hesitant to push such a delicate string of luck but it seemed Y/n was about to stop and he really hadn't said much yet. "Problems?"

Once he started he couldn't stop. "First it was the newspaper with Iris' byline. I mean, he's been in love with her for near his entire life and everything was screaming that she would choose him back eventually. Eddie died, Patty and Linda didn't work out for several reasons - mostly because he couldn't open up to them. But that's not-" He closed his eyes, realizing he was going off on a tangent. "The point is," he began again slowly. "Barry and Iris are like, soulmates? Or something? And it started with the newspaper but then there was Earth 2, and the fact that they always know each other everywhere we go - even if vaguely. Like they're drawn to each other. Inevitable. There are worlds where I don't know Barry Allen and he doesn't know me, but they always have each other."

Slowly, Kara asked, "You're jealous of Iris?"

Y/n scoffed. "I'm not just mindlessly jealous. It wouldn't bother me so much if the name on the by line of the newspaper had changed. If it said Iris West instead, or Iris soemthing-else. But it doesn't. It still Iris West-Allen. And I feel like... a filler." His shoulders sagged and his face twisted with agony. "It doesn't help that he started to drop our plans to hang out with her. And I realized that actually he always prioritizes her. Our plans never overlap, like he's desperate not to have to choose, and then they do and he chooses her. And it's fine, she's family, but I thought I was too. I thought we'd at least be equally as important. And then Savitar comes and he goes after Iris - still. Iris and Barry weren't together, but his life falls apart if she dies. Like-" He blinked tears out of his eyes. "Like she's his whole world. Cisco can't save him, or Caitlyn."

"Or you," Kara realized, her face crumbling as it fully settled in.

The man shrugged. "Or me. And I tried bringing it up to him but he refuses to acknowledge it and scrambles to avoid the topic and I feel like he knows he's in love with her but doesn't want to admit it. I feel like I really am filler and he knows it, that his very atoms are waiting for her and it's just this unspoken inevitability. I'm only here for now and that's it and I'm not supposed to address it, I'm not supposed to see it, but I do and that really sets him on edge. Or- something does at least. I don't know! He won't talk to me!"

Immediately Kara pulled Y/n into a hug. Y/n let her, curling into her comforting warmth and knowing he could fully collapse and she would be fine. "Would it help if I helped you work through what other options there are? Discussions are hard to have if you have one out come stuck in your head, and then often turn into arguments that accomplish nothing."

Chuckling, Y/n wiped his face. "You're so smart Kara." And he meant it so genuinely she couldn't even joke that he was full of it. He seemed relieved to be able to talk about it, talk through it. She believed that truly was the case. "Please," he sighed. "Please tell me there are other options than what I think there are."

Kara hummed, tightening the hug for a split second before leaning away so they could meet eye to eye as they spoke. This was a conversation where he needed to know she was being absolutely truthful and genuine. "Well, first of all he could have the exact same fears as you. He could truly and deeply be in love with you and be scared that it'll all be for nothing. Fate and knowing your future - it';s a terrifying thought. Especially when no matter what you do, it never changes."

Y/n nodded. That was a perfectly logical option. "Anything else?"

She was ready for the question. "His life has been really difficult. He's constantly losing people, and being a superhero is extremely hard on a person. It's demanding and draining and leaves no room for even a single mistake. You're gambling with the life of every single person. Their happiness and stability. It's not a reason to treat anyone badly but I could understand if his work life and super hero life being so complicated and dangerous doesn't leave a deep desire for a normal, more straight forward life. Maybe he got it in his head that things with you were supposed to be easy and now... they're not. And he's too burnt out or anxious to address it."

Oh. Very quickly Y/n was calming down. Hearing all the other alternatives were very grounding and loosened the pit of doom in his stomach. "Anything else?"

Nodding, Kara continued. "He may not be taking your emotions seriously and either isn't realizing how your emotions are affecting you, or thinks they're some kind of accusation. He may even not understand that when you bring this up its concerning how you feel about it and not necessarily about him or anything he's doing at all. It's a pile up of things that all point your brain in one direction, and the way that makes you feel may be irrational or very rational, but either way he isn't the person who chooses Iris. And he may be one day, or he may not, but if he thinks you're accusing him of some sort of cheating when he couldn't imagine ever doing something to you?" She shrugged. "Like getting mad at someone for doing something in a dream. And it still means something to you but he isn't clocking that - all he can see is you blaming him for something he didn't do."

Y/n actually had the audacity to smile. "We would argue over me feeling insecure and it making him feel like I hate him. Or doubt him." He rolled his eyes but there was a little fondness there and Kara felt hope surge through her. Not all was lost yet. "We would end up arguing like we are over both of us just being insecure and not communicating it int he way we need to." He sighed, long and laboriously.

Kara just decided to skip to another option. "Or he's being an asshole and he does know it upsets you but he just doesn't want to acknowledge it or take it seriously."

They looked at each other for a second before slipping into soft, breathy laughter. It was weak and quiet but Kara wrote it down as a win. The idea that Barry would be so harsh and cruel truly was laughable. Maybe another Barry, another universe, but not this one.

After a second Y/n deflated again. Not as broken down but definitely exhausted. "What do I do if he won't talk to me? I can't just not know."

"Tell him that." When Y/n seemed doubtful, kara shook her head. "I'm serious. Say it even before you start the conversation. No warning, no chance to shoot you down or change the subject. Lay down the law. If you need this, you need this. It doesn't matter what he's feeling about the situation - you need to talk about this. This is a need for you; a deal breaker. If you break up you break up. He doesn't deserve you if he can't get over himself for an hour to talk to you and give you something you actively need."

Y/n melted in relief, eyes wet. "You're an amazing friend Kara."

The compliment, bursting with appreciation that could not be put into words, made Kara grin. "You deserve a good friend. Come on - we can take a few days before you have to go back."

So they did. A little less a month passed before Y/n went back. neither of them had meant for it to go on quite so long but Y/n's powers that were so often utilized by Barry were perfect for the threat Kara was facing and beating the bad guy was the last step. They had to go through so much before they could do that. It kept them. 

When he did go home, there was something different about him. He got to see more and experience more. He realized how much pressure he was putting on Barry and codependent he'd become. he seemed finally completely at peace with whatever happened - whether or not they broke up, he knew he'd make it through - but was also ready and willing to fight for it.

If only Barry would fight too.

In the end Kara had been right. Her very first guess had hit the nail on the head, and it had all come undone the second Y/n set a hard boundary. He needed this and Barry delivered. Their relationship was important enough to the speedster to put aside fear or pride and face it. They had a long talk about the whole situation and how out of control they both felt. How that scared Barry even more because he didn't want such a future. Because he wasn't allowed to be out of control like he was now or people died. Y/n clarified his feelings not being a reflection on Barry as a person and the kind of person or partner he was, and that seemed to help too. They decided at the end of it all that no matter what happened they loved each other and nothing could get in the way of that. That even if Iris and Barry did end up together, it wouldn't be the Barry that was now.

That Barry was Y/n's.

For the first time neither of them felt the need to check to see if Iris' surname had changed on the byline. It was Cisco instead who came crashing into the room, eyes wide with worry. He pulled up the article and pointed out the byline.

Iris West.

No Allen attached.

The article was the same, with a missing Barry, but the byline was different.

Barry and Y/n looked at each other, eyes opened for the first time. It was almost a slap in the face to realize that Iris and Barry ended up together in this world only if they thought they did. That the anxiety of the felt inevitable could destroy all of their relationships, and that the second they decided it didn't - it didn't.It was beautiful in a way. And suddenly they both felt that they could do so much more... 

And they did. Together.

-

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[cilil]

🌿 for ask game. thank you!

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

Now I may be both a good and bad person to ask about that because I've been inspired and writing almost every day for 2 1/2 years straight now and, while there certainly were unproductive episodes in terms of output or low motivation or stress and anxiety keeping me away from writing itself, I always had inspiration in my head at least; I suppose you could say I've been somewhat "blessed" with keeping this up without putting in real conscious effort. I don't think there's a secret recipe either, but I'll try to give some helpful (?) ideas :)

So a good chunk of this is sadly, or at least I suspect it might be so, dependent on how prone to hyperfixation and how attached to an individual thing you are on a personal level. Speaking for myself, I'm the kind of person who always has their "one main thing" and sticks with it for several years at least (I was tenacious enough to spend 5 years doing my own thing in a dead fandom) and slowly digs deeper and deeper as time goes on. Others may change interests more frequently, be in several fandoms at once or experience greater fluctuations with high and low creativity. That leads us to my first point: Know who you are and work with that, don't try to be anyone else.

The second thing I think is important is to find a good balance between trying to be reliable and finish your stuff and give yourself some space to do whatever you feel like and fuck around. You may have heard creativity being compared to a river before and it's true: Too much human interference - for example straightening a river - can impact the environment around it negatively, and too much scheduling and deadlines and forcing yourself to be creative will impact your creativity negatively. Make sure you have the space to at least occasionally do what comes to mind. You should be working on project A, but you're feeling project B? Work on B for a while. The muses are moody.

Another thing that may seem a little contradictory at first, but I think is helpful: Keep at it. If you do whatever is your creative thing regularly, it's less of a "big deal" and threshold to cross every time, it becomes natural and a comforting part of your routine. For writers, drabble challenges and prompt events are examples for good tools to ensure you write at least semi-regularly. But again, please don't feel like you have to force yourself to create every single day, especially if you're someone who experiences periods of little to no creative energy. That's fine. Let yourself recharge. We're all different (in general what works for me doesn't have to work for everyone else).

Now if you do find yourself in a bit of a creative slump or lose passion for a project you used to enjoy a lot, here are some things you can try:

Take a break and do something else. Scratch a different itch. Have fun!

Put yourself in the right mood/mindset by looking for media that evokes the feelings/vibes needed for your project (note that this will work better for people who are highly sensitive or otherwise react/connect to media on an emotional level more strongly). Examples: A playlist, a specific song you associate with your work, a movie/book/game/etc that inspired you, artwork of a character

Talk about it with someone else. Be excited together. Ask for advice if needed. Or just talk through whatever block you have; you may not even consciously realize it, but just to have someone listening will help with explaining the situation to both them and yourself and clearing it up

Write a project list (I recommend either a spreadsheet or a handwritten one). Sometimes the crux with a project is simply all the disorganized noise around it and you begin to feel anxious which causes writer's block and/or kills your creativity. Writing a list can clear that up, make you feel more calm and collected and show you a clear way forward. Note: This applies to other situations in life too. Try it and I promise things will become easier to handle

That's all I can think of right now. Again I can't promise any of this is "the secret sauce, but maybe some of it can help someone :)

[thunderheadfred]

Life stuff update!

Haven't posted about this first bit anywhere because... wow personal, but it's been a majority chunk of life lately.

Husband put in his notice at his current teaching job a while back. He's been working there for 8 years and is supposedly one of their most valued teachers, yet he barely takes home $100 more per paycheck than when he started. Plus our insurance is insane, taking most of his check every month whilst covering literally fucking nothing (we are still paying off my doctor-ordered biopsy!). PLUS his commute is fucking ludicrous - in the winter he regularly drives over 3 hours a day to a shit job that doesn't pay anything. I barely see him for a hour or two each day during the school year.

Bio clock is ticking, just saying. Never really had that baby-wanting impulse until very recently, and there was absolutely zero possibility of us starting a family while he's at this job. No money, no time, no medical support.

So. Bye. After talking to a therapist to help us through the plunge, we finally decided enough was enough.

He doesn't have another job lined up after summer school, so in August we have zero certain income. Neither off us is particularly panicked about this; the hiring wave for fall teaching positions has yet to happen, and there are several things he can do even if he can't find a full-time job at a local district.

What's looking most likely is actually that he'll juggle part-time jobs for a while. Subbing or other work at a district he's interested in will help him get a foot in the door, meanwhile an afternoon or weekend cashier job at the co-op down the street (where I used to work) has some distinct benefits. First off, he could WALK to work, and the co-op offers higher hourly rates and better promotional opportunities than his current "salaried" teaching job. Add on a big discount at the place where we buy most of our groceries anyway...

Anyway. That's been a lot.

Meanwhile I've been doing the housewife thing. Which actually entails more than just "chores" - I've been doing a huuuuge amount of work on my mental and physical health. I've lost 40 pounds (with 60+ to go) and have completely changed my eating, which has helped immeasurably with CFS, Depression, and life in general. I've started socializing again after years of serious, life-altering anxiety. Basically, I'm getting my life back. Or maybe getting my life for the first time? I was so mentally ill for so long that this really feels like the first time I've been genuinely balanced... maybe ever?

Whether that new peace of mind encourages me back into fandom I have no idea. Fandom social mores seem to have shifted over the years. Maybe it's just the glimpses I see now and then, but the Internet as a whole doesn't seem too anonymous or even like... baseline compassionate for anyone anymore. That's probably a matter of what you make of it, but even so, I'd be lying if I said spending my time in fandom spaces hasn't lost most of its personal appeal. I've been much happier offline, so that's where I've been. I do miss my friends, and I wish they lived down the street and not inside the scary computron. It'd be great to write again, but my interest in fandom work might be over. I'll never say never, but right now I just don't see it. Maybe someday I finally get back into the habit; but it's gonna happen in its own time if it does.

Lately I've been working on my YouTube thing, though where that'll end up nobody knows. It's certainly not a serious money-making prospect, nor am I aiming to make it one. YouTube actually scares the ever-loving shit out of me, so it's pretty much a deliberate mental health exercise. My whole attitude toward it has been "stress less, make more." So I treat it kind of like a journal of the nail shit that has taken over my life (lolllll), and a chance to pay forward all the relaxation I've gotten over the years watching Nail YouTube. It'd be nice if I could eventually have enough subs to maybe pay for some nail supplies or get some free PR or something, but that's about as ambitious as I get.

Okay my fingers are tired

love you byyyyyeeeeeeeeee

[septembersghost]

girl i've been housebound too. at first i was for 5 years straight (agoraphobia + trauma) and then i had to be hospitalized. i got a little better but again ive been housebound for the past 5 months:( the isolation is overwhelming. any advice to bring yourself to go outside? i'm ashamed to be seen

i am so sorry you've been struggling with that. i don't think it's unusual at all to have difficulties ebb and flow in severity, sometimes improvements are incremental and that's still very important, even/especially when you've had a setback. plus being hospitalized can be traumatic in itself. i hope things start to look up for you soon.

my health has had me mostly homebound for a long time (over a decade), but i still used to go out on occasion for errands or with my dog. i lost her in 2019 and pretty much locked myself in outside of medical appointments (and physical therapy at the time), then the pandemic hit and it became necessity. it's so risky for me with my immune system to go out that i just kind of ended up permanently quarantined? it's a strange nebulous space to live in, i've disappeared from the world in many respects. i've been sick for so long at this point that the isolation itself doesn't measurably impact me anymore because it's my baseline of normal (the downside of this is it made my social anxiety much worse), but you feeling overwhelmed in it makes total sense, it is very hard to feel cut off and adrift. is there anyone close to you who'd be willing to visit and maybe just step with you outside? it doesn't have to be far at first, if you can go outside and sit for a few minutes, or gradually walk down the street and back, if it's safe for you to do that. or if there's a place you can go for fun, to quickly grab a coffee or something you enjoy, even if you don't stay long, to give it a positive connotation? i'm probably a little useless for advice because i haven't done that myself, this nearly three year stretch is the longest i've gone without venturing outside at all, and i'm definitely nervous about going anywhere, even though it's only for medical stuff. if there's someone you trust and who can offer you support, please take it, i'm sure anyone who cares about you would want to help.

the shame in being seen i get too, even if it's for different reasons, and that's such a battle to overcome, but i promise you are not shameful in any way. you still deserve to be heard and seen and loved, whatever that looks like for you and however it feels right and comforting.

i wish there was more i could do to help you, but if you ever just need somebody to listen, i never mind. 💗

[dismalhasu]

I don't know why but I feel I should just vent about my mental illness issues and circumstances.

Being horn premature and then quickly diagnosed with a social disorder before at age 4 before my personality even developed and being told to just avoid people and not be in groups and such and then being diagnosed with adhd practically 8 months to a year later and then only ever treated for adhd. Despite lots of research, saying you should also be dosing against anxiety and depression because adhd can give symptoms similar to those, especially when I had multiple behavioral doctor visits because of my acting out they still never recommended I be treated for depression and anxiety especially.

Then being bullied throughout my elementary school time (grades 1 through 8) and despite speaking out about it the boy's mother had cancer and I wasn't exactly a well behaved kid due to my mental disorders/illnesses and you know how they just say let boys do whatever when they have outside issues. Being told to always leave the bully alone despite being physically verbally and mentally abused by the kid. Then constantly being told by teachers that my opinions are wrong and my dreams for life and the direction i want to take it is stupid.

Always being told by my parents that older people are right and I should always take what they say as truth. Really fucked me over for motivation despite barely having any to begin with.

Constantly getting in trouble due to the actions of others because I couldn't regulate emotions due to the adhd and then the people that instigate me never getting into trouble.

Its really hard not to blame the teachers and doctors who literally couldn't even do their jobs. Instead of dismissing me and ignoring my issues. Always saying that I'm lying or exaggerating.

Honestly, college was better despite some teachers again manipulating, practically everyone. Using their personal opinions of people to grade their work instead of the actual work itself and then also the weird system they have towards what classes one can take and not even mentioning they needed previous years advance courses for years later subject centered courses. (I needed grade 10 advance sciences to do grade 12 basic astrology/space science.) Which was a large hit to my motivation and interests.

And with the odd cases of bullying in high school, despite bullying being made a criminal offense, it surprises me how many people don't give a fuck.

I even was trying to be helped by a company who assists youths with job finding and skill classes and such and still couldn't find a job outside family connections and still get fired from.said jobs because I can't keep up.

Also had lots of times throughout my life where asthma was evident but never thought to be investigated at doctors if I was asthmatic at all. Till I had a huge asthma attack around 23. Because I was under the impression after 16 that my asthma attacks were simply panic attacks.

Now here I am disability money, no job despite looking and still growing my skills. Overweight due to eating disorder from being bullied. Probably some brain damage from abuse, ptsd, severe anxiety, severe depression, still have the social disorder and have agoraphobia from the anxiety.

All the relationships I've been in haven't even lasted 2 months at most, because I take to long to get attached. Probably because whenever I would get attached quickly that was too much. So like what can one do. That's just the straws life handed out. I'm fine to be "suffering" if someone else doesn't have to deal with this shit.

TLDR; mental illness stinky. Bullying bad. Vent.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Sorry for your lost - Part I “I will grieve”.

Serie Masterlist here || Part II|| Read on AO3 

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, hurtful behaviors, domestic wanda.

Chapter warnings: Heavy angst, death.

Author’s notes:  Hello readers! I'm finally back to posting something, but I disappeared for a good reason, I was writing three new series. And here is the first of them. I really enjoyed this work and it's something I've been trying to write since I watched WandaVision, and only now I've managed to put it into words. I am not finished yet, but there is only one chapter left, so your reading will not be affected. Pay attention to the warnings, and good reading!

Tag list (let me know if you wanna be tagged) 

@mionemymind​ / @abimess​ / @stephanieromanoff​ / @yourtaletotell​ / @tomy5girls​ / @justagaypanicking​ / @thegayw1tch​

//-//

Chapter One - I’ll grieve.

You wished you could go back to sleep as soon as you opened your eyes. The sound of your alarm buzzed loudly throughout the room, and after putting it on snooze mode at least four times, you finally got annoyed enough to grab it and throw it across the room. But the sound continued.

Letting out a grumble of dissatisfaction, you pushed the comforter off you, and sat up in your bed. Your room was a mess, but you just skipped through the clothes on the floor to reach the phone, turning off the alarm through the new crack you made in the screen.

"Honey, are you up?" you heard your mother's distant voice calling you through the door, probably from the living room or the kitchen. "Don't forget your therapy today."

You sighed impatiently, running your hands through your hair. The damn group therapy. 

Grumbling lightly, you forced yourself to take a shower, not wanting "poor hygiene" to end up on your progress report card. 

A while later, when you were finished, you went into the kitchen. Your mother was using her laptop on the counter, and just waved at you.

"Are you going to take me?" You asked her with your hands in your pockets. Your mother took her eyes off the screen to evaluate the sweatshirt you were wearing, and you rolled your eyes at her disapproving expression. 

"You know, you could try driv-"

"Mom" You cut her off in earnest, your heart racing momentarily. You don't drive. An she knows. Your mother sighs, putting her hands up in a sign of surrender.

"It was just a suggestion dear." She retorts as she stands up, reaching for her car key on the key rack exiting the kitchen. "But I'm busy with the store, you'll need to take the subway next time."

"Thanks for the support." You grumble as you step out in front and your mother lets out a wry chuckle.

You frown and let out a dissatisfied exclamation as you step outside feeling the sun's rays on your face.

"You're not a vampire, cut the drama." Mocks your mother by pushing you lightly to get you out of the way. 

You grumble  as you walk to the car. And when you are sitting on the seat, your mother is starting the vehicle and she asks:

"Are you sure you're not going to eat anything?"

Looking out the window, you just mumble that you're not hungry, and she shakes her head in disapproval before you back the car up. You don't speak any more on the way.

//-//

Your mother dropped you off in the parking lot of a gymnasium where the therapy group would be meeting. You sighed as you got out, and thanked her for the ride and the money she gave you to eat, even though you probably weren't going to use.

Resisting the urge to run away, you forced your feet to walk toward the place.

There were a few people at the door, but you didn't smile at any of them, entering the place with your head down and your hands in your pockets. 

And then a woman greeted you, and put a little sticker with your name on your shirt when you gave her your papers. 

Then she signaled the way you should go, and you ended up on the gymnasium court, where there was a wheel of chairs, and a table with food and drink, and several people scattered around, who you thought were part of your therapy group. 

Sighing impatiently you made your way to the bleachers of the venue, hoping to be alone until the session started and you could leave.

Fortunately it wasn't long before the leader signaled for everyone to sit in the circle, and you sighed as you stood up. You ended up with one of the chairs on the far left opposite the therapist, which could be bad since he would see you clearly.

"Thank you very much for coming." Said the therapist smiling gently as his gaze roved over everyone in the circle. You kept your gaze on your shoes. He made a noise with his throat. "Who would like to start today?"

The silence lasted for a few seconds, but then someone was speaking. You forced yourself to come back to reality and pay attention.

"[...] and this is my fourth week around here." Said a woman in a leather jacket. You noticed the army lanyard around her neck. She was talking about an accident when you got distracted again. Lightly poking your eye with your finger, you tried to focus again, letting out a low sigh. And then the therapist was talking again.

"We have new faces today." He said and you felt your heart speed up. You absolutely did not want to talk in front of strangers. "Why don't you share with us, miss?"

You raised your gaze to meet that of the therapist, smiling gently at you. The rest of the group looked at you as well. Taking a deep breath, you began to wiggle your fingers on your leg.

"I don't... I've never been in a group." You say clumsily. "What should I say?"

"Whatever you wish to say." He answers with a smile. You swallow the urge to tell him you didn't want to talk at all. Realizing your lack of response, he is quick to add. "Why don't you tell us why you are here?."

You let out a dry laugh. 

"I really didn't have much choice." You retort wryly. The therapist looks slightly surprised, but makes no mention of interrupting you. You let out a sigh before clarifying. "My psychiatrist, she...she didn't approve of my social ratings. She wanted me to talk to other people. People who... went through the same things I did." You count staring at the floor. When you look up again, the group still waits for you to continue, and you sigh, running your hands through your hair. "I haven't... I... I haven't talked to other people outside of my family in six months. Not since..."

You move your head, sniffling slightly as you straighten your posture. The therapist clears his throat.

"You just need to share whatever you are ready to tell us." He says gently, you nod slightly feeling extremely vulnerable. "But remember that this is a safe space. There is nothing to fear here."

And then he is talking about methods of easing the guilt, and dealing with the pain and you were distracted again. You would like to go back to bed. It must have taken a while, but the session is finally over.

The group dispersed around the room, and you went toward the therapist's desk to have him sign your schedule. He smiled as you approached.

"Miss Y/N/L, I was happy to hear that you would be joining us today." He said greeting you with a handshake. You nodded, taking the paper from your pocket. He chuckled, but accepted it. "You know, I'd like you to try to have a partner in the group, it's recommended for cases like yours."

"What do you mean cases like me?" You ask snidely, but he doesn't care.

"Doctor Harkness gave me your chart." He explained as he signed the paper you gave him while you frowned. "Extreme Social Anxiety in the first few months of treatment. Tendency to complete isolation, introverted..."

"Yeah I know my problems, buddy." You interrupt him with irritation. "You don't have to list them for me."

The therapist gives a lopsided chuckle, and holds out the signed paper to you. But he adds with a serious look:

"I'm here to help you, Y/N." He says. "Don't forget that."

You don't respond and take the paper, turning toward the exit. 

//-//

Your week passes slowly and tortuously. Which is surprising because you barely get out of bed. And then it is group therapy day again, and you are making a new crack at your cell phone screen.

Your mother greets you with a pat on the back as you enter the kitchen, and she is walking past you toward her own room.

You know you have to take the subway today, and you are trying not to think about it too much. As you are walking out the door, your eyes pass quickly over your car key, and you think you have a flash of memory, but you shake your head quickly, pushing the thought away. And then you walk forward.

And you are late for the session, because you can't take the bus to the station, since your feet simply didn't obey you. But that's okay, you don't really care.

You weren't the only one who was late. When you went to enter the door, a red-haired woman bumped into you, also running to get in. She smiled slightly as she apologized, and you just made room for her to enter first.

"Sorry Stephen." She said to the therapist as soon as you two entered the gymnasium, "I had an emergency with the kids."

The man just shook his head with a smile, and waved for you both to sit down.

"And why were you late today, miss Y/L/N?" He asked you. You shrugged your shoulders.

"I didn't wanna come." You retorted and the group giggled, and the sudden sound startled you slightly, but you just sat with your arms crossed. 

"Do you want to try again?" He retorted with light humor in his voice. And you bit the inside of your cheeks. And then you looked down at the floor.

"I couldn't get on the bus." You confessed next. Stephen looked at you tenderly, though, and you didn't like the feeling of your chest heaving slightly.

"And why do you think that happened?"

You shrugged, uncomfortable. 

"I don't know. I... There were too many people." You said embarrassed. And then you started twiddling your fingers, feeling all eyes on you. "I just... I knew I'd have to say hello to the driver, and the conductor. And then I would pass strangers in the hallway, and one of them would sit next to me. And I just... I couldn't."

Stephen nodded slightly in agreement.

"It's okay, Y/N. " He stated. "No one is judging you here."

You let out a dry laugh, and Stephen blinks in surprise, which spurs you to explode.

"Everyone is judging me, Doc." You say through gritted teeth, swinging your leg. "It's as if I can hear the gears in people's brains forming opinions about me." You state with a sigh. "Like my mother for example. She...she...acts like I'm past the time of mourning." You explain with tears in your eyes. "Like there's a limit, and I'm extending her goodwill. Because it's been six months, and she doesn't want me to be sad anymore. But guess what? I don't know how to move on!" You state angrily. "I can't! If I don't miss her, what's left for me? If I don't... God, I can't do this."

And you stand up, wiping your tears away, and walk out of the gymnasium, heading for the restrooms. You feel your heart racing, and it's hard to breathe. 

As you rest your hands on the sink, your brain starts to wander back to the day of the accident again. You choke, because it feels like you're sinking again. You see the water rising through the metal of the car. Your hands on the steering wheel, and then on the seat belt. You shake your head, pushing the images away, and rush to turn on the faucet in front of you and pour the water on your face.

You take a deep breath, trying to stop the tears. And then there is someone entering.

"Are you okay?" Stephen asks and you nod lightly, ignoring the trembling in your hands as you stare at him through the reflection of the mirror. "I gave a break to the group, wouldn't you like to walk with me?"

"I'm not good company right now." You grumble but he smiles, nodding slightly as if to repeat the invitation. You take a deep breath before turning around.

You walk silently and slowly to the outside of the gymnasium, and then he is speaking again.

"You were very brave today."  He comments, and you let out a dry laugh. "Why don't you believe me?"

"I panicked today." You say. " It doesn't sound very brave to me."

Stephen smiles guiding you through the gymnasium entrance toward the parking lot.

"You talked about a trauma to a group of people." He says. "That takes a lot of courage, even if you don't believe it."

"I don't believe in anything." You grumble, but Stephen doesn't mind your hostility. He stays with his friendly posture.

"I would like you to accept my request from before." He said after a moment. "About a group partner."

You let out a sigh.

"I don't even know what that means." You retort with slight impatience as you reach the edge of the parking lot. You notice the garden a few feet ahead of you.

"It's like a therapy buddy." He explains with a smile. "We encourage socializing here. That's why Agatha recommended this group to you."

"Oh, of course you do. Agatha is a bitch." You wryly wipe your hands across your face. Stephen laughs lightly. "How does that work anyway? Do I have to hold someone's hand? Exchange friendship bracelets?"

"No, it's much better." He says with a chuckle. "You talk to that person. You exchange experiences with them. You learn to trust somebody else again."

"My god, it looks like a fucking Disney movie." You retort with irritation and Stephen lets out a laugh. And then you let out a sigh, shrugging your shoulders. "Okay, I'll do it. I have nothing to lose, and it seems that neither you nor Agatha will leave me alone if I don't agree."

"We want you to feel better. Don't take this as a punishment." He says, guiding you back to the gym. You nod slightly, thinking that it really does feel like punishment anyway.

//-//

You see Agatha the same week. Your appointments have been switched to monthly meetings instead of weeks as they were at the beginning of treatment, and while you appreciate the familiarity of seeing her, you can't help but feel irritated with her.

"Someone's grumpy." She comments as soon as you sit down on the couch in the room, to which you roll your eyes.

"You are always so very tender, Agatha." You mock as you cross your legs, hoping the time will pass soon.

Agatha laughs lightly, finishing tidying up a few things on her desk. And then she gets up and sits down in the armchair a few feet in front of the sofa where you are, carrying a small notebook in her hands.

"So, why don't you tell me how your your first two sessions in group therapy went?"

You let out a dry laugh.

"Like Stephen didn't tell you everything." You sneer and Agatha just smiles, waiting for you to speak. You let out an impatient sigh, before stating wryly. "It was amazing, doc. It only took two sessions for me to have a panic attack, so thank you for that."

"Why do you think that happened?"

You squeezed your eyes.

"I have no idea." You retorted. "I'm not the doctor here." Agatha laughs lightly, and then opens her notebook and starts writing something. You sigh impatiently. “Really, you're going to start that again?”

"If you don't talk, I write." She states simply, and you roll your eyes, shifting on the couch uncomfortably.

"Agatha, I just... I couldn't get on a bus, okay?" you tell her, and she closes her notebook to look at you attentively. You take a deep breath. "There were a lot of people. I don't mind walking anyway. It helps me think."

"You don't mind walking eight blocks?" She asks with a slight irony. "That's pretty athletic of you."

"It's weird that you know my address off the top of your head." You play lightly, and she just laughs, straightening her posture. 

"Why don't you just tell me what you want to tell me?"

"Why don't you ask me what you want to ask?"

Agatha blinks slightly in surprise, and then she shakes her head slightly, opening her notebook again. You sigh.

"Okay, sorry." You say, and she looks at you for a moment before closing the object again. I... I thought I was drowning again.”

"Are your nightmares back?" She asks seriously, and you deny it with your head.

"I feel too anxious to sleep." You tell. "And then I black out from exhaustion in the night or in the morning. I don't dream anymore."

"Have you been taking your medication?"

You sigh.

"Of course I have."  You say. "I don't... I'm having trouble keeping my mind still. Like the first few months, you know. Everything seems so noisy now."

Agatha nods slightly, becoming thoughtful for a few moments. 

"I know it may sound strange to hear that, but that means you're getting better." She declares and you frown in surprise, then let out a dry laugh.

"How is my peak anxiety a good thing?"

She opens the book again, but before you can ask what you said wrong, she is reading.

"The first day you were here, you said you felt like you were empty." She narrated and you swallowed dryly. "During your first two months, you continued to describe that you felt like an empty shell. And that you no longer had any dreams, thoughts, or opinions. Without your wife, you said you were no longer here."

You felt your eyes fill with water at the mention of her. But you swallowed your emotions. Agatha turned a page, and read for a few seconds, and then looked at you.

"With your history of anxiety, your mind was remarkably quiet after the passing of your wife." She says. "But now that you're on medication, and therapeutic treatment, plus you're socializing even superficially with the world again, you're starting to feel things again. That's progress."

You look away from her, nodding slightly, trying to believe her words, and trying not to be so terrified at the thought of learning to live again. Without Nat.

You choke slightly, holding back a sob, and then Agatha hands you a box of tissues, but you refuse with a nod, wiping away the tears that have slightly escaped.

"What do you want to talk about now?" She asks after a moment. You take a deep breath, still trying to calm yourself.

"Last week I took a cold bath." You count. "It was snowing."

Agatha blinks in surprise at the information and then lets out a giggle.

"You want me to write it in the book don't you?"

You laugh, wiping away the last of the insistent tears. You just hope Agatha could help you.

//-//

You hate coffee. But you barely slept last night, and now you need to stay awake during the group meeting, so instead of walking to the chair in the corner like you used to, you detour your way to the food and beverage table as soon as you arrive at the gym.

There are a few members around, but you don't look at them, just sidestepping as you extend your arm to the coffee bottle. You pour some, and as you touch the cup, you notice. It's cold.

"Hey sorry about that." Said a girl you thought was named Val or something, as soon as she saw you touching the cup. "We mixed up the shifts yesterday and nobody made new coffee."

You rolled your eyes, picking up the cup and throwing it in the trash. Then you forced a wry smile on the girl and walked outside. 

It was cold, but you are boiling with rage. It was just a damn cup of coffee, you thought as you closed your eyes and tried to reduce your anger. Just coffee. 

You stumbled with fright when Stephen called out to you.

"We'll get started in a minute." He said looking at you curiously. You just nodded, following him after a few seconds.

You bit the inside of your cheek when you noticed the same coffee girl as before, now sitting where you usually sat. The universe was testing you today. 

You just sighed, twiddling your fingers inside your pocket, and walked over to one of the free chairs.

After Stephen gave the briefing, he asked if everyone was all right, and the group lied in unison. You were almost asleep when he called your name.

"I would like to choose your partner today." He says and you feel your heart racing as you straighten your posture. "But I want to know if you have any preferences."

You blink in confusion, and roll your eyes.

"I don't know anyone here, but I'm sure they will all hate me equally, doc." You tried to joke, but Stephen only looked at you with concern.

"No one does or will hate you." He says and you swallow dryly, looking away as you mumble that it was just a joke. Stephen pauses momentarily before continuing. "You know that everyone here has their own experiences of loss and they are unique in their own way, even if they have similarities." He begins and you just wish he would speak soon who your partner is at once. "Usually we don't put new members together, but with the release of one of our members, the number ended up getting odd." He explains. "Anyway, I'm sure you and Mrs. Maximoff will get along very well together."

You frowned slightly at the whole explanation. Then you looked around the group, and realized that this Maximoff woman was the late redhead from the previous session who looked at you curiously. You looked away from her to Stephen.

"Thank you, doc." You said with a slight irony and Stephen just nodded smiling.

"Partners are grieving companions ladies." He says. "We will assess your progress at each session, and then switch partners once the necessary improvement has been achieved."

You grumbled in understanding, and looked away to your lap. When Stephen began to ask about the stories, your mind wandered to the departure time.

And when the session was over you wished you could go to sleep. But Stephen made a slight movement of his head in Maximoff's direction, and you understood that you should talk to her.

Ignoring the urge to show Stephen the middle finger, you just sighed as you got up from your chair and lazily walked over to the woman at the exit. She was talking to a man, and you were even more anxious to address not one, but two strangers.

"Hi." You greeted awkwardly, and both of them turned to you with mild curiosity. 

"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" Said the man with a smile as he held out his hand to you. "I'm Bucky. James Barnes actually, but everyone calls me Bucky." He said and you shook his hand, smiling awkwardly. Then he quickly pointed at the woman.  "And this is Wanda Maximoff, your grief partner."

"Hi." Wanda said shyly as she offered her hand to greet you. You accepted as clumsily as she did.

"Sorry, I don't know how this works." You say. "Should we exchange numbers or something? Or is that just a therapy thing?"

Bucky gives a little chuckle.

"Oh believe me, they'll know if you're not making it work." He counters. "My first partner was Sam Wilson and we wanted to jump on each other's necks whenever we saw each other. And then Stephen asked us to move in together." He says and you blink in surprise. "We're married now, but that's not the point. I guess I'm getting off topic..."

"Bucky." Wanda interrupts with a smile, and he smiles half-heartedly as well. You frown, annoyed by Bucky's story. You didn't want to marry anyone. "I guess we'll make it work, I hope you don't mind having the company of two tiny restless creatures on our walks."

You look at her with confusion and then you understand, smiling shyly.

"No, it's okay." You say. "I like children."

"Really?" She asks in surprise.

You nod slightly. "Unlike adults, they tell the truth."

Wanda seemed to be thoughtful, but then Bucky lets out an exclamation.

"As group guide, I have to pass the to-do list to you ladies." He says pulling a small notebook from the back pocket of his pants. He pulls out a sheet of paper and hands it to Wanda. "Partners need to develop these habits of socializing and coping with grief together. And yes, there is a test."

You sigh impatiently, tucking a loose string behind your ear. 

"That sounds fun." You mock lightly making them smile. 

"Anyway, good luck to you two." He says tenderly. "And Wanda, call me if you need help with Tommy. I know a good therapist."

You frown slightly, not understanding what he is referring to, but you prefer to stay out of matters that are none of your business. And then Bucky kisses Wanda on the cheek in farewell and waves to you smiling before leaving. You switch foot weights when you are alone with Wanda. Talking to other people is not exactly your strong suit these past few months.

"So..." You start clumsily when she turns to you. 

"So." She repeats equally embarrassed. You then clear your throat and rush to pull your cell phone out of your pocket and hand it to her.

"Give me your number." You say. "That way we can arrange...whatever this is." 

Wanda smiles weakly as she accepts the device, and you ignore the curious look when she notices the cracks in the screen. A moment later she hands the cell phone back to you.

"I gotta go." She says. "I need to pick up my kids from school."

You nod slightly and force a smile to say goodbye, and Wanda copies your movement before leaving.

You stare at your cell phone next, noticing the slight anxiety in your stomach as you read the contact "Wanda Maximoff" on the screen.

//-//

By the weekend, you are miserable. Just like the first few months.

You spilled some tea under your bed, and when you went to clean it up, you ended up taking the objects that were lying there. And then you found a crumpled piece of paper.

It was your farewell speech. The words you wrote down to speak on the day of the funeral. The paper you pulled out of your pocket when you got home from the ceremony and probably fell under the bed when you collapsed on the floor from crying so hard.

Suddenly your chest tightened and you couldn't breathe. But you didn't want your mother to worry, so you concentrated on remembering the exercises your therapist had taught you.

And when the room started to get too small, you left.

But because it was cold and rainy, you had just taken a hot shower and had decided to brew tea before you finished putting on a sweater, you had bent down to pick up your socks, and the liquid fell on the floor. 

You went outside without your shoes, and your mother let out a worried exclamation when she saw you standing outside, staring at nothing.

"Honey?" She asked walking out the door after seeing you through the kitchen window. "Honey, what is it?"

You didn't answer. Your face was wet. Your mother's hands wrapped around your shoulders, and she gently pushed you inside, worried that you would end up getting hypothermia.

"I'm fine." You gasped as she led you inside, but she just shook her head. "I'm fine."

"No, honey." She retorted making you frown. "You're not."

"Mom."

"Sit down." 

And then there were blankets around you, and socks on your feet. And your mother was in the kitchen, on the phone, but everything seemed stuffy. You began to be absent again. Thousands of memories flashing through your eyes.

An image of yourself on that living room floor, laughing while your girlfriend had her arms wrapped around you. Your mother was pouring a glass of wine for each of you, and you were happy to tell her about your engagement.

Then an image of you running across the room, trying to dodge the tickles your father tickled you while you laughed.

Then a puppy in your hands on the floor. You looked at it fondly, laughing at how cute it looked. 

Looking down, you saw a hand on your thigh. It was your wife's, the ring on her finger. She smiled at you. You were happy because that was the day you told your mother about the house purchase.

You gasped slightly when you felt someone's hand on your shoulder suddenly.

"I need you to tell me three things you can see." It was Agatha. God, you should have been out of reaction long enough for her to get here. Wiping away your tears, you took a deep breath, trying to reason straight.

"I... I..." You started, but your brain didn't seem to obey you. You took another deep breath. You could see the carpet, so you told her so.

"Two more." Agatha asked tenderly, her hand caressing your back from top to bottom. 

"The... table." You replied crying. "I can see the table."

"That's right, honey." She said. "Just one more now. Tell me what else?"

"My feet." You add breathlessly. "I can see my feet."

"Now breathe with me, okay?" She asks. "Like I taught you."

The exercises help you to calm down again. You apologize for scaring your mother, and for making Agatha drive to your house, but neither of them is upset with you. You feel exhausted, but the doctor wants to talk to you after she accepts the cup of coffee your mother offers her.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" She asks as you sit on the covered porch, fluffy pillows around you.

You lower your gaze to the floor, sniffling lightly.

"I found my grief speech." You count. "Under my bed. The next minute I was outside."

Agatha sighs.

"You ready to talk about the accident."

You raise your eyes quickly, frowning, because it wasn't a question.

"W-what?"

She takes a deep breath, crossing her legs.

"It's suffocating you." She clarifies. "You need to talk or these attacks will happen again."

"I-I don't..."

"It won't be today." She interrupts with a tender smile. "Tonight you need to sleep. But we won't prolong this any longer. You need to talk about it, even if it’s only to scream."

Clenching your jaw, you hold back your tears as Agatha takes one last look at you before getting up. She murmurs that she will see you on Monday, but you don't look at her.

//-//

You don't sleep well on Sunday. And it's definitely because you can't stop thinking about your appointment.

And it goes well for the first twenty minutes. Agatha doesn't pressure you, and agrees to hear about your week, without mentioning the incident on Thursday.

There is a pause after you have told her about the dog barking noise in the early morning and then you know it is time to speak up.

"I was driving." You say softly suddenly, ignoring the feeling that your throat wants to close up. Agatha has her hands folded in her lap as she listens to you. "She...she was sleeping in the passenger seat." You swallow dryly, trying to count and not get caught up in the memory again, your heart racing. Talking is almost like going back there. "I looked at her for a moment and I got distracted... and then... we just..."

You only realize that you are crying because tears fall on your hand. You blink, sniffling. Taking a deep breath, you continue.

"We fell into the water, and Nat...she just...I couldn't get her belt off." You gasp breathlessly. "The water just...kept coming up around us. And she looked at me, and... she just shook her head like she knew what was going to happen." You tell between sobs. Agatha's eyes water, but she doesn't interrupt. "I just...she pushed me. She pushed my hands away and she told me she would follow me. And god... my dumb brain believed her!" You confess angrily. "She told me she was right behind me! And I swam out and when I came up she wasn't with me."

You shut up, not being able to tell anymore through the sobs. You can't even see the office clearly because of the tears.

It takes a moment for you to speak again, your head down.

"When I swam back, the car was completely covered with water everywhere" You recount. "I...I was going to dive again.... I wanted to get her out of there. But the people who saw the accident jumped in after us. And they pulled me out of the water. And I kept thinking that if I hadn't been distracted, she...she would be...."

"No." Agatha interrupts by offering you a tissue. "Natasha had a stomach injury, don't you remember?" She counters and you gasp, the words echoing in your brain. "That's why you couldn't remove the belt."

And then you were remembering clearly now.

Soft music echoed in the car as you hummed the tune and drove to your friends' house. Your wife mumbled softly beside you, making you smile as you watched the sleeping figure. The red hair in front of her face.

"Hey sleepyhead." You called softly, looking away from the track for a moment. "We're almost there."

Nat muttered in agreement. You bit your lip, thinking she looked beautiful. And then you heard a noise, and a white light in the window. You barely had time to frown when the impact threw your car off the road.

Your body tensed immediately as you sat up, looking around with desperation. The car was sinking fast and you turned to Nat.

A wound on her forehead was bleeding, and she was clearly disoriented as you touched her hands. You hurried to unbuckle her belt, but it was jammed tightly in her waist, and you gasped in shock at the wound.

"N-no." You grumbled, trying to move the metal, but Nat gasped in pain, pushing your hands away. You could barely breathe in desperation. Your feet were freezing, because the water was already at your ankles. "Babe, move please. We have to get out."

Nat advanced toward you, taking off your belt. You tried to touch her, but she pushed your hands away again, intending to guide you out.

" Sweetheart, go! Open the door! " she commanded and you shook your head, the water on your knees. Nat forced a smile, the tears in her eyes made your stomach turn. "Don't worry love. I'm right behind you."

As you opened the door, the water moved all the way into the car, and you held your breath Nat repeated the words "I'm right behind you" one more time. And then you swam out.

When you reached the surface, you were alone.

Sobbing, you couldn't say anything else to Agatha, and she proceeded to stroke your back, trying to soothe you with words of affirmation.

"I need you to remember some things honey." She says tenderly. "You couldn't have helped Natasha. She got stuck. You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened." Agatha whispers to you, and you sob. "Remember the investigation, okay? The police said that the driver of the truck was drunk and hit your car after he fell asleep. It wasn't your fault." Agatha says trying to remind you. You gasp, countless memories flooding your head at once. "Say that for me, will you?" She asks and you gasp. "Tell me it wasn't your fault."

You sob, burying your face in your hands. It takes a moment, but you repeat the words.

"It wasn't my fault." You whisper breathlessly. "It...it wasn't my fault."

When you leave therapy that day, you feel different.

You think that it is the healing process that is beginning to work. You still have a long way to go, but you have the feeling that a weight has been lifted off your back, because you have started to believe your own words. You could not have saved Natasha.

There is still a deep sadness in you, but you still buy your favorite drink on the way home, and try to stay in the living room for a few hours before going to your room when you are inside.

[sirfrogsworth]

Health Update

I don't think I'm out of the woods yet, but I wrote several things this past week that I am fairly proud of. Hopefully you all found them funny and interesting.

They were not quite the deeply researched essays that I'm hoping to write again, but still significantly more writing than I've been capable of in the past few months.

But I'm going to take this as a sign I am improving.

I don't think any one thing has helped me get better, but a combination of diet, medication, and tweaks to my life are starting to add up.

I switched doctors and he suggested I might have a diabetic condition that doesn't let my stomach evacuate fast enough. I started medication for that and I think it may be the key to pulling myself out of this hole.

I'm worried I might have that AND an ulcer at the same time, which is why this has been so hard to fix.

Unfortunately I still don't have enough energy to properly take care of myself as I would like. I am rarely able to shower. I have a hard time taking medication on time. I let a ton of food spoil because I didn't have the energy to do anything with it. And I cannot do any physical tasks.

My entire basement apartment is a mess. Like, it's embarrassing and gross. And it has gotten so embarrassing that it is past the point my anxiety will let me ask for help. Like, I would die if someone saw how bad I let things get. But if I don't improve my health enough soon, I may have to swallow my shame and see if someone can help me clean up. It is much easier to maintain a somewhat clean living space, so I'm hoping with my health improvements, I would be able to keep it clean once it is actually clean.

At this point I am worried I will trip over stuff and hurt myself. So I have to figure something out soon.

This has been just about the worst year of my life. (Other than the first few years after I got sick when I was young.) I think even if Otis hadn't passed it still would have been the worst. Turning 40 in 2 weeks isn't helping either.

But I have amazing family and friends that keep me going. Friends that I haven't seen in person in way too long. And I'm trying to use the thought of seeing them again as motivation to keep me moving forward.

In summary... I need a hug, like, real bad.

[onceuponaprettyhedawolf]

My ex had some relationship trauma that was never dealt with. When we initially started dating last year I had no idea the scope of it. All I knew was that they had just gotten out of a long term relationship. We dated for a week or two & then they broke up with me a week after we had sex for the first time. My first time, their first time with a girl. Little did I know their ex had pretty severely traumatized them in regards to sex & after we had sex, they began to spiral. They started comparing me & my actions to their ex & they couldn't handle it anymore.

A few months down the road, we started talking again. I was still head over heals for them & they thought they were ready to try again. Without much thought for the fact that during the time we didn't speak, they never sought actual help, I said fuck it & we dated again. I fell even harder & faster for them this time. We dated for a little over a month. We had sex about a week into the relationship again & they started freaking out again just like last time. However, this time they talked to me about it & we agreed to slow things down & take it one step at a time & figure it out together. This made little to no difference & they still ended up seeing my actions as things that would lead to them being abused again. So they treated me as an abuser & broke up with me & blocked me.

As someone with PTSD & has had every type of abuse under the sun done to them; this hurt. Don't get me wrong, they were hurting & didn't know any better. I definitely could've handled myself better in some of the conversations we had. I'm far from perfect. But now months later I am still feeling the affects of the break up & their trauma response. Unknowingly, they have caused me to feel guilty for wanting sex in the first place & for having any sexual feelings at all. I've never felt this way before & was always okay with how sexual I was in nature, but now I feel guilty & almost ashamed.

Additionally, as someone whose been gaslighted into thinking they were the abuser in multiple situations, I am also second guessing everything. Am I abusive? Am I extremely toxic? Am I horrible person? To add the proverbial cherry on top of the sundae, my best friend also cut me off in the same fashion I would only reserve for abusive & toxic people.

I'm not a perfect person & I have never claimed to be. But if there's now two people, one of which was my best friend, who cut me off like that & treated me as an abuser/toxic person, am I? Or did they just go above & beyond?

Don't get me wrong, these situations have made me to realize that I do have a lot of growth yet to do. I need to work on not over reacting when people come to me with any sort of criticism & not immediately go on the defensive. Instead, I need to sit & hear them out & have a peaceful & calm conversation with them. I also need to work on not allowing myself to take up too much of the emotional space in a relationship. I need to make sure that even though someone doesn't want to talk to me about their issues, it doesn't always mean I get to freely talk about mine all the time. It may be an issue within themselves to not want to divulge all of their issues, but that doesn't mean I should ignore that & wait for them to figure that out & come to me. Saying I'm here for you & telling someone you'll do whatever they need for help, doesn't constitute as being there. Some people don't know how to express what they need as well as others & so doing things to make them feel loved & supported regardless of them asking for it is the way to go. Lastly, some people need to have time to process their emotions & even though that sucks ass for me because of my anxiety, it doesn't mean I get to hound someone about it until they talk to me. I need to learn patience. I'm sure there are more things I have yet to figure out but that's all I know as of right now.

I'm not sure what this post is tbh, but if anyone has any perspective they'd like to share go for it. I'm not sure what to do or think on a couple of these things.

[asarcasticwitch]

Hello , I was wondering if I could get your opinion/advice?

I'm 22 and I never had a public job. I been to college for a year but decided it wasn't the best thing for me right now though there is still things I would like to study (which is a whole other thing.)

my parents are pushing really hard for me to get a public job but I have a deep level of anxiety about it for who really knows why. I have thought about trying for online jobs as well seeing as no one has deemed me worthy to hire me after interviews. but im kinda scared that my parents will be mad at me if I did apply for online jobs and actually got one?

everyone tells me one minute I can do what i want but then another time tells me I have to basically do what they want because its whats best for me.

also no one really agrees with me wanting to be a writer/ artist (I am not really planning on trying to build a business from scratch at the moment)

I don't know I just want someones opinion besides my therapist or family. I don't have any actual friends but I figured hey you seem pretty chill and maybe would have a opinion on this.

I don't really know if this ask will make any sense and sorry if it doesn't . I just really don't know if its okay to make my own decision and do what I want even if everyone gets mad at me. which is stupid I guess since everyone says I need to do that but they don't want me to at the same time.

thanks have a good day stay safe! =)

Hey! Thank you for the ask 💛

I totally sympathize with you on this as I was/am in a similar situation, actually. For the longest time, I was pressured by family into not following any of the creative pursuits that I wanted to because apparently, that's not 'a real job'. For one, screw that, yes it is, and two, I spent so many years of my life working a job I despised and being absolutely miserable because I listened to them.

Don't be me!

Now, I can't really say what will work best for you, but for me—when it finally got too much—I ended up taking some time away to work on what I wanted. It wasn't so straightforward, and I know not everyone has that luxury, but I was lucky enough to be in a position to just take some time out. I did courses, worked on my writing, and I am so much happier for it than I know I would've been if I kept on following what my family wanted me to do. My only wish is that I had done it sooner, as I now have so much baggage that I need to clear, but that's another matter entirely.

I can't say my method was a cure-all; there were still days that my family just could not understand me, but one thing it helped with was seeing exactly what was out there. I will have to step back into work soon, but I am a firm believer in doing what you want to do—if you can. Life is way too short. Again, I know it's not as simple as that for everyone, life is also a bastard, but it's just something to keep in mind.

I, too, have severe anxiety, especially about working in public spaces. So, one thing I will say is, looking for from-home work, or jobs you can do online, is a fantastic idea! It is something I am currently looking into as well so that I can continue with what I love on the side—which is writing. I know that if I was to go back into my old line of work, I'd risk never writing again, and that is just not something I am willing to do.

Anyway, I'm rambling. So, to answer your question directly, I say a massive HELL YES to making your own decisions, whatever that looks like. I understand it's not easy, and I don't want to be the one to influence you, but you asked for my opinion on this topic, and there it is.

I'm sorry if none of this is of help to you, but I hope it at least gave you someone else's perspective. I'm sorry you are going through such a frustrating time, and if you ever wanna chat, you can always send me a message! I might not be great at giving advice, but I'm willing to listen, and I'm a sympathetic ear, if nothing else.

Take care of yourself!

[belit0]

1500k Commission [Uchiha Obito / Fem Reader] @obitobrigade

🌹My Ko-Fi page [Commissions are open!]

Obito x Coffy NSFW baking chocolate chip cookies at home. *coffy is a thick thighs/ booty girl, nerdy, wears glasses, freckles... *

[Drawing by @obitobrigade TO USE IT ASK HER PERMISSION, IT IS HER CREATION, DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION!]

Under the rain, Obito runs, trying to take shelter under every roof or balcony he finds to avoid the icy water falling from the sky. Of course, he doesn't carry an umbrella, he always thought he was too cool for such things, although at times like these he regrets it.

He bumps into several people before managing to stop at the door of a shop, with his jacket soaked and his jeans completely wet. Frustrated and grumbling, he reaches into the pocket of his tight trousers and looks for the paper you gave him before leaving.

The note is ruined, breaking because of the humidity and with the ink dripping on its surface.

"How am I supposed to know what ingredients to buy now? How were those cookies made? She's going to kill me..."

Slapping his face, he grunts, scolding himself before the grey panorama of the city. He has only fifteen minutes before the shops start closing, and he doesn't even remember what he had to take home.

Of course, his pride is too great to return empty-handed, that is why, angry and motivated not to disappoint you, he sets off again, adjusting the hood of his jacket over his head and running to his destination, avoiding pedestrians.

Eventually he arrived at the supermarket where the shopping was usually done, with about 10 minutes left before the doors closed. In desperation, he did not hesitate and entered like a hurricane, leaving a trail of water behind him on the dry floor. His panicked face prevented anyone from daring to tell him anything, and with a hasty pace but without being able to trot, he headed for the first shelf he found, without even knowing what he was looking for.

Fortunately, there was an employee there, a young man with brown hair and red marks on his face. The teenager smelled like a dog, as if he hadn't bathed for days, but that would have to be enough. Although being a shy person, someone who hates unnecessary contact or interactions, Obito was forced to approach and talk to him, being his last chance to achieve his goal.

The boy was placing products in their respective places, with headphones and chewing gum noisily, when the Uchiha touched his shoulder and scared him.

"WHAT THE FUCK MAN?! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?!"

"What the...? Never mind. Kid, I need your help."

"Why do you think I'm wearing this stupid uniform, old man?"

"You little piece of shit, tell me what ingredients I need to make chocolate chip cookies."

"Nothing is free in life, you know? I have to buy food for my dog, I have to pay for my food, I have to..."

Taking money out of his wet pocket, Obito cursed the teenager lowly, who smiled smugly at having won the hand.

"Take it and shut up. Tell me what I need or I'll wait for you outside until your shift is over.

"Don't you have a nursing home to go back to? This way, I'll share with you the recipe my mom uses."

After getting what was needed according to that child, Obito left the shop with a bag of groceries, hoping to have bought what was needed and not to disappoint you when he got home.

Running again in the rain, the trip to your flat was much quicker. His anxiety to get there and be dry, warm and comfortable next to you was too much. Until he remembered that he might have picked up the wrong ingredients and wanted the earth to swallow him up.

His intengrity as Uchiha was at stake.

The Uchihas never make mistakes, that is the first basic rule of the clan.

Arriving at the door, he used the key that you had given him some time ago to enter, being grateful not to feel the cold of the wind and water on his soaked body. He made his way to the elevator and headed to your floor, finding your entrance quickly and getting in without announcing himself.

But of course you were there to welcome him.

"Obi, you really should have taken an umbrella... it's not such a big deal you know?

" Over my dead body [Y/N], none of that.

"You're soaked! There's not a part of your clothes that doesn't drip with water! Go to the bathroom and take a hot shower please, I don't want you to get sick"

Removing the grocery bag from his hand and closing the door, you pushed him into the bathroom, leaving him to take care of himself. Being that you had been together for some time, it was usual to find his clothes among your things, so it was not strange to get a change of underwear and a pair of trousers. No luck with the shirt.

It took him a while to finish, as the warm feeling on his body after being mistreated by the frost was like paradise. When he came out, you offered him the clothes you had available, and although you also gave him the option of a sweater he didn't want to accept it, remaining without a shirt and with his chest in the air.

His heart stopped when you opened the bag and started to take out the ingredients, placing them on the kitchen table and putting on the cooking apron. But by not telling him anything, by not reproaching him for bringing the wrong flour, the wrong milk, how bad the butter was, his body began to relax. Staying by your side, he observed your features as you started to work, your dark hair falling on your shoulders and its beautiful volume, your freckles hidden under your glasses, your hips embraced beautifully by your trousers.

His eyes were feasting when your voice woke him up.

"Come on sir, you have to help me, no looking!”

"Yes, ma'am!"

Both put hands to work, and Obito's concentration managed to last a short time in the work he was doing, before getting lost again in your figure, in your profile, in your thighs, in how easily you managed to make him laugh just by smiling.

Your presence was light in his life, and nobody could replicate it.

Positioning himself behind you, he put his hands back on the kitchen table, working again while his bare chest was stuck behind your back and his waist was pressed against your butt.

When his member found that cozy space between your rear, his hands completely forgot what to do with the cookies, and you found no reason to complain. His movements were soft and gentle, his hips swayed from side to side, letting you feel his cock getting harder and harder just by touching you over your clothes, and his abs acted as support for your body when you needed to lean back.

"Don't stop working, I want to eat those today.”

"But you did stop working...”

"I'm about to work on another cookie, if you know what I mean...”

Kneeling on the floor, Obito lowered your trousers and underwear, exposing your pussy which was beginning to get wet without shame. Almost like a hungry man, he held your buttocks with both hands and opened your butt, gaining access and sliding his tongue from your clitoris to your ass. He brought his warm, strong muscle back into your cunt, delivering rapid, continuous movements to your sensitive pearl while two of his fingers reached inside you and began an intense motion.

It didn't take him long to get your body to build up that wonderful discharge, pounding his digits to the right spot while with his other hand he lowered his own clothes and began to masturbate on the floor from the arousal. Overwhelmed by the sensations of pleasure and the moaning that your man was generating inside you, it was impossible for you to even remember that you were cooking, holding strongly with both hands on the kitchen table while your orgasm was furiously approaching.

Once you reached your climax, he stood up, hitting your buttocks with his hard, erect length, letting you know he madly needed to be inside you. Holding your waist, he bent his knees and positioned his tip in your humping hole, guiding himself into your canal slowly, enjoying how his skin was stretched back by the friction.

One of his hands slipped along the side of your body, dirtying your clothes with kitchen ingredients and grabbing you by the neck, exerting a gentle pressure, just the way you like it. With his mouth in your ear, his movements began, while his mind was too clouded with pleasure to even formulate words.

Deep breaths escaped from his chest as the sound of skin against skin filled the kitchen, and your screams made him feel as if he were being pushed by a rush of vertigo and pure pleasure.

The way your warm pussy milked his cock felt like a dream, a wonderful moment that he wanted to last forever, but eventually, his climax attacked him, thanks also to his previous masturbation, being accompanied by your second orgasm.

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 13

Chapters: 13/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

If someone had asked Martin where he had least expected to be on the day after his thirtieth birthday, the veterinarian probably wouldn’t have been at the top of his list, but it definitely would have made the top ten.

Honestly, Martin didn’t think he had ever stepped foot into a vet clinic before in his life. He had never owned so much as a pet hamster, and now here he stood, clutching a tiny ball of mewling fluff and trying not to get distracted by the pet toys.

He felt positively inundated with new information on all sides. There were about a million different types of pet food lining the walls, and everything seemed to be a new bright colour to draw his distracted eyes. Warning signs that made very little sense to him filled the space, most memorably ‘Large birds must be kept leashed at all times inside the practice’, and ‘Reptiles need to be secured inside their travel enclosures.’

There was indeed an iguana in a massive glass enclosure sunning itself under a heat lamp, but it appeared to be a permanent resident, not a guest. Seemingly opposite to this was the massive tabby cat draped across the reception desk.

Martin begins to panic slightly.

He desperately wished he had allowed one of his lovers to accompany him, but he had sent Gerry back to bed to sleep and Jon had been shooed off to work, both quite thoroughly hung-over.

Now here he stands, alone with his new fluffy friend, and doesn't even know where to start. Neither of his partners have ever actually had a kitten before, but at least they had both owned cats before.

Gerry had been adopted by Saturn as a full-grown boy when he arrived at the window of his shitty little flat in Edinburgh and demanded to be let in. Gerry had confessed to a romantic feeling of instant affection for the fluffy beast and had taken Saturn in without a moment’s hesitation. They had moved together as he traveled the country, eventually settling together in London, where he had found Jon again.

Jon had been raised with several cats that had all been born before him and had liked them, but he had told Martin once that he heavily associated cats with his Grandmother and his slightly cold upbringing. That was all the pet experience he had until he met Saturn and fell in love with him as easily as they’d both fallen in love with Gerry. Like goth, like feline companion, apparently.

Nevertheless, Saturn did not appreciate being taken to the vet and had never gone once since Martin had met him.

"Can I help you, sir?" A kind-looking older lady sat at reception, and she beaconed Martin forward gently.

"I- I-" He started, stuttering badly. He closed his eyes and shook himself to dispel the unfortunate remnant of his childhood. “I found this kitten, and I was hoping the vet could check on it for me?”

“And will you be wanting to surrender it into our care?” She asks, tapping away at her keyboard.

“What?” Martin shies away, pulling the cat protectively even closer to his chest.

“You’re more than welcome to keep it, but we do also take in strays if you aren’t able to.” She smiles at him soothingly.

“Oh, I want to keep her please.” Martin flushes a bit. “I already gave her a name.”

The woman smiles at him knowingly. “The vet can see you in 15 minutes then.”

She takes his contact information, and they weigh Martin’s new friend. She guesses the kitten's age to be about 2 weeks and sends him off to sit close to the iguana.

*

An hour later, Martin stumbles out the door, armed with more supplies than he could ever have imagined he needed to raise one small animal. His head is spinning, alternating between fond adoration and complete anxiety over this new task that he has given himself. Luna meows at him supportively, happy to be clean and have a full belly.

Out on the street, he finds Jon. It’s raining slightly, and he’s wrapped in a long peacoat, with a scarf Martin is certain was once his.

“What are you doing here?” Martin demands, shocked. He stumbles over to his partner, and Jon reaches out to steady him. “I thought you were at the library."

Jon presses a quick kiss to his shocked mouth, before taking several things out of his overcrowded arms.

"I know you said that you were going to do this on your own, but I wanted to be nearby in case you needed me, so I called off." He shrugs a bit, "I reckoned that I had earned it, what with all the overtime I work and don't get paid for."

Martin is filled with warmth, eyes welling a bit. "Oh, Jon."

"Oh no, don't cry. I'm sorry." Jon's face pinches in concern. "I can go if you want me to."

"No, I'm so happy you're here. I was just wishing for you, and there you were. Thank you." Martin steps towards him as best he can, and they kiss softly for a few moments, out in the rain.

In time, the kitten, haphazardly clutched to Martin's chest, makes her displeasure at the soggy conditions known. Gripping hands tightly, Jon and Martin set off towards the bookstore, just a couple blocks over.

It’s quiet when they arrive, the morning pre-work rush over, and the student and lunch crowds far off yet. The two baristas and Tim descend upon them immediately when they see the small head poking out of Martin’s coat. There is much cooing and fuss over Luna, and Martin recounts the tale of discovering her in the back alley of Gerry’s bar.

Once they return to work, Jon and Martin settle on one of the sofas, a coffee table before them. They make up a small cat bed, which Luna explores for a few moments, before sitting at the edge and staring at Martin imploringly. He scopes her up and plops her inside, before placing the tiny bed right in his lap. She happily passes out after that, the wild adventures of the morning catching up with her little kitten body.

Deciding to truly have the day off, Jon does not take out his laptop and start working on it, instead ordering their tea, picking a book to read from the store, and bringing it all over to settle with his partner.

“Thank you for coming,” Martin tells him, a soft look on his face. He leans an elbow on the back of the couch, head resting on his fist. “I didn’t even realise how much I needed you until I saw you there.”

“I know,” Jon starts, frowning in concentration, “that I’m not always the best at sensing these things, that sometimes I can be too focused on myself and the things going on in my head. I do hope that I always manage to catch the important moments, and I trust that you’ll always let me know when I don’t.”

Jon pauses, and sighs, a self-deprecating smile lining his face. He continues, “I want to learn to be who you need me to be. I want to be for you, what you always are to me. I love you, Martin.”

“I love you too, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand, before placing a sweet kiss in his palm. “You are exactly who I need you to be.”

It is a soft, hazy sort of day. The rain pours outside, and Jon lies against Martin and reads two books before lunchtime. Martin practices bottle-feeding Luna, every few hours, and Jon sits nearby watching nervously. He wonders vaguely if his partner is alarmed to be around an infant of any kind for a while, but on the third feeding, Jon seems to rouse himself and offers to give it a try.

Each time a new client comes in, there's a round of cooing and petting, and Martin worries that she’ll be spoiled rotten in no time. He imagines that if she spends much time here, he’ll have to sell cat treats and Luna will one day be as fat as a house.

At one point, Jon starts to read aloud, and Martin seems to fall asleep gently propped against his shoulder. He wakes to find Jon laughing softly and Luna learning to use him as a climbing frame.

"I think she likes you, love," Martin whispers into his hair.

"Well, I think I might like her too," Jon confesses, a world away from his scepticism of just this morning.

After lunchtime, Gerry flies into the store very manically, clutching a very strange backpack to his chest. It has a weird clear window, reminiscent of a ship’s porthole, and the rest of it is hard structured plastic.

He ducks down to kiss first Martin, then Jon, before thrusting the backpack into Martin's hands.

"What is this?" Martin asks, holding it away from himself as if it might bite.

"It's a cat backpack. Saturn has always preferred it to a normal cat basket, and I thought it might be useful if we need to take her to work with us and then back to various flats." Gerry walks around the table, bodily picking up Jon's legs and sitting beneath them. He looks like nothing so much as a large, damp bat, black trench coat flapping around him like over large wings. "I ordered her one of her own, but it won't be here for a few days, so I brought Saturn's in the meantime."

There's a beat of shocked silence, so Gerry adds, "Only if you want it, obviously."

"I- I do, thank you." Martin can feel himself blushing with odd pleasure.

He had made sure to ask them if they were okay with Martin keeping Luna, but he hadn't really expected them to embrace the situation with such gusto, and his heart burns with an odd intensity at their gestures of support.

It's almost-

It's almost like they love him, and care about all the things he cares about.

Martin sits, staring at a cat backpack, and allows the realisation to wash over him. It hits him like a tidal wave, despite the dozens and maybe hundreds of times they've said the words to him.

He feels very foolish, left floored by the fact that his lovers- well, that they love him!

Martin knows, understands even, that he has been left slightly broken by his father leaving, his mother hating him, the things that he chose to do to survive in his early adulthood. He does understand that, and yet he never realized that he was hearing Jon and Gerry say they love him and saying the words back, and yet subtly holding on to the (clearly mistaken) understanding that they don't really mean them.

It makes a sick kind of sense, clinging to the idea that they don't really care about him, so when they decide that they don't anymore, it doesn't leave him broken beyond repair.

Martin puts the cat bag down on the table, hands Luna to Gerry, and gets up. He waves at them reassuringly when they try to ask him what's wrong, before walking to the bathroom, locking the door, and sobbing like a child for several long moments.

*

As Luna grows, she spends time with each of them.

Gerry takes her most of the first nights, feeding her through the evenings and then handing her back to Martin as he leaves for the bookstore.

This means she spends quite a lot of her formative life in a bar, but when Martin goes in to check on them, he finds Gerry's plastered clientele just as enamored with the kitten as his own tea-drinking patrons.

Jon likes to have her in the late afternoons, keeping her at the library for a few sleepy hours before he leaves for the day. He tells Martin once that the children's reading group comes in during that time, and he likes to sit in with them and let Luna listen along.

The children, of course, adore her and Jon tells Martin very primly, "Listening comprehension is a very important skill in a developing infant."

Martin finds it hilarious and adorable and can't help but pull Jon into his arms and kiss him breathless, an unimpressed Luna trapped between them.

Saturn does not appreciate Luna at first, disappearing in a huff the first few times Martin brings her over to the studio.

"Don't worry about it, love." Gerry had waved away his concern casually. "He's just a jealous baby. He'll figure out that she wants to play with him eventually, and then they'll be the best of friends."

Indeed, Martin walks into the kitchen one morning to find the two cats curled together in a shaft of sunshine. Saturn is gently giving her a bath, and Luna purrs sweetly at the attention.

When Saturn notices him watching, he untangles himself, shows Martin his bum, and then disappears. He's reminded of nothing so much as Gerry himself, caught eating ice cream for breakfast, or smoking during the day, an activity he would insist is a nighttime pursuit only. The same drama is employed as a distraction technique, and Martin wonders whether the cat learnt it from the goth, or the goth learnt it from the cat.

Luna grows and settles, and Martin adores having her more than almost anything.

He takes the time, as they raise her, to force himself to accept his life for what it truly is. He puts aside the constant nagging fear that Jon and Gerry will lose interest in him one day and begins to notice all the ways they show him they love him, which makes the words all the more precious to him when they take the time to tell him.

[nuoyipeach]

Fresh Start (seulyong os)

Feb. 18 2021

Taeyong regrets many things.

Being a coward in school. Bottling up his feelings. Never confessing to his best friend. Holding in the urge to do it even at her wedding.

Now he regrets something more than ever. He wished he knew. He wished he could have saved her from this. He wished he was the one going home and making her smile, not going home late only to make her upset.

Even her child. He wished she was his. He wished he was her dad. And frankly, the six-year-old sometimes wanted the same.

Taeyong brought her cake on her birthdays, her dad would come home and sleep. Taeyong helped her with her homework, her dad went on business trips. Taeyong helped her prepare a surprise birthday party for her mother, her dad didn't even remember.

"Why did mummy ever marry dad?"

"Don't say that Arin. If your mum and dad didn't meet you wouldn't be here." Taeyong answered as they drove home from school. Another thing, Taeyong always took her home when her mother couldn't, her dad would simply drive past.

"Still, I'd rather not be here than have a dad who never looks at me." she sighed. For a seven-year-old, Arin was quick to catch how absent her father always was. "I wish I was your baby... You're the best."

Taeyong smiled at her, a little sadly. How he wished the same.

Especially now that he found out something. Something he knew would break Arin's heart for sure. He didn't even have the courage to tell Seulgi what he saw, but he pushed himself to it knowing this was not right in any means.

He regrets even more now. He regrets not being around when she was dating this man to see his true colours. He regrets not stopping them from marrying for his own selfish reasons, because he knew for sure he would never think to hurt Seulgi like this.

He'd never have another lady behind her back.

Reaching Arin's home, he let her run in while he helped carry her bag in. "Arin can you call your mum out? I have to speak with her." the little girl nodded and ran in to call out her mother. Taeyong walked in and sat on the couch, shaking his leg and looking down as anxiety ate him up.

"Hey Taeyong." he heard her cheerful voice, the one that always made him happy. But now it made him sad. He looked up with a sad smile and watched as she sat next to him, already sensing something wrong. "What happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Taeyong looked right in her eyes. "Seulgi, you're my best friend, since forever almost. And I'd do anything to keep you happy. But... There's something I have to tell you."

"OK... What is it?"

"I... I caught him with someone else. Thrice actually..."

"Get out."

Taeyong's eyes widened, confused by her sudden command. "What?"

"Get out Taeyong. I never thought you'd go this far." Seulgi stood up, obviously angry as her hands fisted her shirt.

Taeyong stood as well. "What are you talking about Seulgi? I'm trying t-"

"I know what you’re doing. I know that you've liked me for a while now. And honestly, I'm upset you didn't tell me this before I got married to someone else. But that's over for me because I already had my love life, and I don't care for your bullsh*t stories to break up my family. I'm happy the way I am."

Taeyong was shocked, by every part of her sentence. The fact that she knew, the fact that she was upset, the fact that she doesn't care, but mostly the fact that she thinks he's lying to get her back. Anger boiled up in him, as Taeyong was not someone who liked being accused of things.

"Seulgi, as much as I still have feelings for you, that's not why I'm doing this. I did see him with another lady, three times. I'm not telling you this to break you up, trust me I would have done that long before you married. I'm telling you this because you're still my best friend, and I don't want you to suffer." Seulgi simply pointed at the door, motioning him to get out. No matter what Taeyong was the angriest here. He scoffed and turned to the door. "Have it your way then. You won't be hearing from me anymore I guess, since this is the part you refuse to speak to me further thinking I'll make up more stories to break your family. Well, I have better things to do than this, so don't bother."

Taeyong regretted what he did. He regrets cutting off from Seulgi just like that. He regrets not answering her calls. He regrets not picking up Arin from school.

He regrets not being there when the car sped up towards her.

He drove as fast as he could, reaching the hospital in no time and ran to where Seulgi had texted him they were. He reached the room after going up several floors in the elevator, and peeked in, suddenly losing all strength in his body.

He dragged himself inside and stood next to Seulgi's crouched body beside the bed, a small body laid in it covered with mask and other such equipment. Seeing her face broke Taeyong's heart even more.

"Arin..." he gently cupped her cheek in one hand and held her shoulder in the other, lightly shaking her. "Arin, wake up. I'm here, it's me uncle Yong. Baby wake up please, and I'll take you to the fair. Remember you promised me you'd get first in class? It doesn't matter. Wake up and we'll go right away baby." his voice trembled while Seulgi's loud sobs continued and he couldn't help break down soon. "Arin please, you- you need to wake up. Don't make mummy sad, you hate that. Arin..."

Unable to hold it in any longer, he let his head fall into her chest and cried out loud. "Arin I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry baby for not being there... I shouldn't have cut the call, I should've known better. Please baby wake up..."

Taeyong rarely left Arin's side. After Seulgi, he was the second person who was always with her, except for work and when he had to go home. He'd sit there and read to her like he did during her bedtime when they had sleepovers or tell her about any promotion he got at his job. Seulgi would watch and was happy, but Taeyong would catch her on her phone talking to her husband, who only came once in the past month. It was to the point Taeyong memorised what excuses he'd give.

I'm busy.

I'm tired.

Tomorrow

I've got meetings.

Sorry, too much paperwork.

Even the couple’s parents came more than he did himself obviously. When Seulgi's parents came they were beyond happy to see Taeyong. They've always favoured him when growing up, and also knew about his feelings for Seulgi but he told them to keep quiet about it. Although again, he regrets that.

But they were also the ones other than Taeyong who knew about her husband's dirty secret. Except for Seulgi and her in-laws, many friends and family knew. But when Taeyong told them how she had reacted they kept quiet, knowing she'd be too broken to hear, especially now.

When Seulgi's in-laws visit, they always give Taeyong the stank eye, as if he was here to cause trouble.

"Seulgi where's my son?" her mother-in-law asked as she eyed Taeyong going through Arin's daily health checks.

"He said he's busy again. He only came the second day." she replied to which her mother-in-law sighed and left the room. Seulgi's mother was present and looked as her daughter also sighed, sick of having to deal with her in laws always questioning about her husband, when they could easily contact their own son themselves.

And that's another thing both her mother and Taeyong noticed.

It had been a month and she was sick of seeing her daughter remain so naïve, and now she broke her limit. As her in laws left, she shut the door immediately and locked it, then looked at her daughter who stood confused. Taeyong's eyes widened and he quickly turned away, busying himself with Arin.

"Seulgi how much more is it going to take you to realise that he's cheating on you and that his family is fully aware? How much longer do I have to watch my only child and grandchild go through this mess? Why are you being such a rock head? What do you have to be so protective over? What's wrong with you!?!"

Seulgi stood shocked. The last time she heard this was her fight with Taeyong, and to hear it from her mother caught her off guard.

"Mum what do you mean? Why are you saying this?"

"Taeyong told you, yet you didn't listen. Well listen to your mother, everyone's seen him around with that other lady, even your cousin. Yet we never could tell you because Taeyong stopped us when he didn't see. He saw how happy you were, especially with Arin around, he didn't want us to ruin your happiness, that's how much he loved and cared for you. But when he saw it himself, he regretted so many things, you don't know how we had to stop him from doing anything rash. He finally picked up the courage to tell you, but you didn't listen. Look what happened, Arin's in coma! I'm not blaming either of you, but maybe if you would've listened to him and not break out a fight none of this would have happened in the first place!"

Seulgi tugged her hair back, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Taeyong get out." she suddenly mumbled.

Taeyong looked up surprised. "What?"

Seulgi turned around in a rush and faced him. "Get. Out. Go, leave. I don't want you around right now." Taeyong looked at her mother who signalled him to do as she said. He put down the clipboard of Arin's checks and silently walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Her mother then faced back to her only to see tears streaming out of her eyes, her legs giving in as she fell sitting on the empty space of Arin's bed.

The elder lady walked up to her and held her hand. She was her mother, and if anything she knew her feelings the most over anyone else in their lives. "Honey, I know something's not right with you. Tell me, talk to me." she cupped Seulgi's face and raised her head up to look at her. "You're my baby no matter how old you grow, I know from the start honey, that you've loved Taeyong as much as he loves you still."

Seulgi cried even more, hiding her face in her mother's chest. Her mother combed her hair as she herself let out tears seeing what kind of a mess her child was in, something no loving mother would want their children through.

"Talk to me Seulgi, please."

"I loved him mum, I still do. But he was so distant with me suddenly, I didn't know why. That's why I moved on, that's why I met Arin's dad, that's why I married him because no matter how long I waited, Taeyong never said a thing. No matter how many times I messed around with guys, Taeyong kept quiet." she felt her mother move away slightly and lost the warmth for a second before she felt it again.

But it felt different, and she knew why. She fisted her hands hard and started hitting the body holding her. "You're an asshole! Why didn't you say anything! Why did you let me do all that! Why didn't you force me to break up back then! Why can't you be selfish! Why Taeyong, just why didn't you do something!"

Taeyong's face wasn't any drier as he had heard the entire conversation she had with her mother, who now stood outside instead. He realised how his kindness was a pain, how his warm heart back then only led to so many being hurt now. How he regrets not being selfish back then.

"I still love you Seulgi, but I'm such a coward. I didn't know you loved me back, I didn't know all those stunts you pulled back then was to get my attention. I didn't want to hurt you, I wanted you to be happy, even if that meant losing you to another man..."

"F*ck you Lee Taeyong!" Seulgi screamed as she stood up, shocking Taeyong who knew for the longest that she was not one to curse this easily. "F*ck you and your kindness!" she continued to cry. Taeyong pulled her into his embrace, letting her cry into his chest while his hands caressed her back.

"Leave him. He's not worth your time. Even as we speak he's off with someone else."

Seulgi pulled away and stared at him, crying suddenly stopped as her eyes burned with anger. "I won't leave him." she said catching him off guard. "Not until you kiss me."

Taeyong was even more shocked, knowing it wasn't right. "I... You're married to someone else, I can't kiss a marr-"

"Shut up!" she pushed him away. "If you're still going to be the kind person in this situation, then forget it. I won't leave him without a fight, until I do what he's putting me through. Kiss me, or I won't listen to you, or even my mother. I'll stay with this man even if he thr-"

Taeyong had had enough of her talk, enough of her stubbornness, something he was pretty fond of but not now. And he did as she wished. He grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly, colliding her lips with his own. Seulgi wasn't one to wait and her hands wrapped around his neck tight as she returned the kiss. He let go of her arm and snaked both his hands around her waist, both adults pulling their bodies closer to each other wanting not a single waste of space between them, wanting to make up for the time they lost all those years.

Out of breath, Taeyong pulled away slightly, their foreheads still pressed together as they both took shallow breaths. His eyes were fixed at her swollen lips before looking directly into hers, and suddenly he saw a glint of joy in them.

"Only you could ever make me break laws and morals..." he spoke quietly to which she chuckled.

"Sometimes it's better to be the bad person Taeyong, especially for revenge." she replied before claiming his lips again. But Taeyong was quick to pull away this time, his hold on her now gentle.

"What will you do now?"

"I'm calling him now, our marriage is over. I'll get annulment papers tomorrow itself."

Taeyong smiled proudly at her, before he remembered Arin. "What about Arin?"

Seulgi turned behind looking at her child, still laying lifeless on the bed. She thought deeply for a second, then turned back to Taeyong as she figured it all out simply. "She loves you, more than her father. He was rarely present while you were. You took care of her when he couldn't even feed her. She loves you and sees you as the man in her life, more than she even sees him as her father. Whatever happens, I know for sure she wouldn't care much if he's gone. Hurt yes, that she no longer has a father, but with you around, she won't be sad for long."

It wasn't as easy as she thought as her in laws gave quite a fight, denying the cheating accusations Seulgi threw at their son and claiming that she cheated instead. It wasn't until Seulgi swore on Arin that she never did such and yelled that even they knew about their son's affair but were too ashamed to admit it. And as usual the man arrived late, and to his family's surprise didn't hesitate much on agreeing to the divorce, even giving Seulgi full custody over Arin with no request of seeing her weekly.

During the whole ordeal Taeyong stood by Seulgi's side along with her mother, as he was her lawyer. And he didn't miss the obvious stank eye her in-laws kept giving her still, as if he was the cause of all this. At one point her mother-in-law even stood against him.

"You set this up, didn't you? You're the reason for this mess!"

"Ma'am your son himself has agreed to the annulment and accepted the claims. There's nothing more to this."

"Then why are you always around? I know for sure you got Seulgi to do this!"

Taeyong huffed dropping the file with the ex-couples’ signatures onto the table, anger clear in his eyes. "Ma'am, if there's anybody to blame here it's your son. Seulgi has been my best friend since elementary, me always being there was nothing out of the norm. Trust me in different situations I would have befriended your son as well through her. But I never attempted it because I knew what he's been doing. We've got many witnesses against him as well, so please don't make this so hard for me. I'm nothing but a lawyer here, and I'd like to solve my cases quickly and quietly, no drama."

The elder woman was about to speak when her son, now Seulgi's ex-husband, held her back. "Mum stop being so dramatic. What's done is done, let it go. I really don't care about this right now." he spoke, his attitude nonchalant and turned back to his phone.

Taeyong didn't want to drag this any longer do collected the papers together and filed them. "It will take two weeks to officiate, until then you can start moving out and discuss on possessions. If you need any help deciding those you can give me a call, however I expect that it shouldn't be too much of a problem."

"Not at all." the man replied before turning to Seulgi. "You can take all of your things and Arin's, and whatever I had gifted you too like the car, just take it."

"How can you give her so easily?" his mother yelled again.

"Because it's her right?" he replied sarcastically. "I'm the one who cheated, besides what's me keeping those things going to do for me. I don't need anything to remind me of them laying around the house."

Seulgi's blood boiled at his words. How could she have wasted all those years of her life on such a man who doesn't even show care about his own child? She looked away from them and saw Taeyong filing the final paper before standing up.

"Well then, that's all. You may leave now. You will get the letter in two weeks." and not surprisingly, her ex-in-laws were quick to leave along with the man. Seulgi's family sat there and sighed looking at each other then Taeyong, who just sat back after putting the file in his urgent cabinet.

"Well, I guess we should go now." her father spoke up. "We need to help you pack your things and move out right. Hopefully doesn't take too long, I don't want to be in that house."

Seulgi nodded sadly, when Taeyong spoke up. "No need, I've arranged for movers, they'll do it for you. I'll be there, you can come too if you want to Seulgi, but they're going there in about half an hour, so it shouldn't take too long."

The family smiled at him in gratitude, when they noticed Seulgi's fatigued face. Her mother held her hand and turned to face her. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

"Where will I go?" she whispered. "I can't move in with you guys with so much. It's a burden. I'm unemployed too, I can't afford a house now..." she held back her tears, when she noticed everyone quiet. Looking up she was shocked to see them all smiling mischievously, except for Taeyong who had a nervous look.

"Well," her father spoke up, "you actually do have a place all ready for you, and Arin." he said, eyes darting towards Taeyong, causing Seulgi to turn to him too.

"What do you mean?"

Taeyong rubbed the back of his neck, nervous from thinking what to say. "Well... I should have asked you, but I prepared my house for you to move in, with me." he looked at her directly and saw her bewildered expression. "I mean if you don't want to its completely fine, we can help you find somewhere else. Or you can stay with your parents and store your stuff at my place for now."

Seulgi bit her bottom lip looking down at her fumbling hands, all eyes in the room on her. "I... I don't know for sure. I don't want to bother you too much. And I have to watch over Arin. An-”

“Seulgi,” her mother cut her off, “how much longer are you going to underestimate Taeyong?” she looked at her mother, slightly confused. “You should go to his house with him now. Leave the movers to us, what’s more important is to change you Seulgi.“

In the next fifteen minutes Seulgi stood with Taeyong in the elevator heading down to the garage to his car. It was an awkward silence, until Taeyong suddenly moved closer and held her hand. “I have to ask you. Do you perhaps have something else in mind?”

Seulgi looked up to see his saddened eyes. “What do you mean?”

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to be with me. It feels like I’m forcing you, and I don’t want that. If you want to be on your own with Arin go ahead, I’ll still be by your side, so there’s nothing for you to worry about losing.“

Seulgi chewed her bottom lip. Truth was, she loved the idea. Waking up every morning next to Taeyong, having his arms around her, waiting for him to come home from work while she prepared his meal, having dinner as they talked about the day, spending the nights together cuddling (or making love). She always wished it was him. When she was married for the past eight years, she completely erased those fantasies from her mind, but whenever she saw him playing with Arin or helping her with errands, she couldn’t help wishing it was him for a split second before reminding herself she was a married woman.

Now she doesn’t have to stop it. But another worry filled her mind.

She wanted to give him time, she wanted to take some time herself as a matter of fact. It felt so fast, one moment she’s married, the next she’s divorced, the next she’s moving with another man already. All while her daughter, the light of her life, was in the hospital.

The elevator bell got her attention back to reality, and she quickly followed behind as Taeyong had already walked out, evidently hurt by her silence as an answer. While in the car driving to his house, which she realised she barely even knew the way to, she thought of an answer, not wanting to leave him with silence.

“Taeyong...” he replied with a hum, “I... I don’t know what I want. Don’t get me wrong, I love you, I want nothing more to start my life over with you. But... It feels so fast. I thought we could have a fresh start, take a step at a time you know. But at the same time, I don’t want to go through it all again. Then there’s Arin. I need to think about her. It’s obvious he won’t be taking part in her life anymore, I’m all she has...”

The car came to a halt and she realised they had already reached Taeyong’s double storey house. She peeked around and found it was in a quiet neighbourhood, and it was big but felt very homely. She watched as he got out and followed behind him until entering the house. Taeyong not once has said a word to her, and it was starting to make her emotional. Did she hurt him with what she said? She stood in the middle of the hallway, trying to fight back her tears, when a hand slipped into her own.

“I want to show you something.“ Taeyong said softly before pulling her along across the living room to the second floor. There was another hallway, then what seemed like a family living area, then three doors, then what she figured were the rooftop patio doors at the end of the hallway. He tugged her to one of the doors and motioned for her to open it. All the while Seulgi wondered why he had such a big house to himself, but shook off the thoughts as she turned the handle and entered...

A kid's room. The walls were coloured baby pink, a white high platform bed with drawers on the side, a shelf with several toys and books, and a table with colour pencils scattered on them. She also spotted two doors, one guessing the bathroom while the other looked like a closet room, though it seemed locked.

However, everything looked as if no one had touched a thing for the longest time.

“You know, whenever Arin stayed over, this was her room.“ he suddenly said catching her attention as Seulgi looked at him, obviously confused why he would dedicate an entire room to her child. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I had no intention of breaking your family. But I also had no intention starting my own. I felt like staying single for the rest of my life was the better option. When Arin started staying over, it made me feel alive to have someone around. And when her visits became frequent, I figured giving her a room here wouldn’t have been a bad idea. Whenever you were busy and she stayed, I’d let her take over this place. Ever since our, well, fight, this room became unused. It hurt me, if I may be honest, that I lost you in more than just one way. This room wasn’t just for Arin, but whenever I felt sick of my life I’d come here and look at her drawings. She loves to draw, same as you, and looking at them would help me relive childhood moments, when I was happy. When I was with you.“

Seulgi looked back at the room, walking towards the wall with all of Arin's drawings hung up. Some were of her and her mother, some with Seulgi's parents, and some with Taeyong.

None of her own father.

She then continued to the shelf of toys, before looking back at Taeyong. "You bought her so many things..." she said when he gave a chuckle.

"They're ours."

"What?"

Taeyong walked next to her, looked at the shelf before picking out a small toy and handing it to her. "They're our toys, well some of them, the ones that survived I guess. I had them in a box in my basement, and Arin somehow found them. I must say, she gave me quite a heart attack when I couldn't find her that time." he laughed softly remembering the day he had almost lost his life unable to find the child, only to see her playing with the toys in the basement.

"You gave them to her?"

"Yes. Back then there was nothing in this room except for the shelf. When I saw her playing with them, I allowed her to have them to herself and let her put them on the shelf so she could get them easily. That was when I decided to give her this room."

Taking her hand, he led her to the bed and sat down with her. Her hands felt around the covers. "And this bed?"

"I got it recently, after our talk at the hospital. I guess I got excited to finally have you with me, and I figured the first step to our relationship would be Arin's life."

Seulgi didn't care to hold back her tears, moving closer into his arms. "How did you accept..." she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Accept what?"

"Arin." she moved away and spoke. "Any other person would have been hurt to see the person they love marry away and have a family of their own. How did you love Arin so much, despite her father being him?"

Taeyong sighed, hand running through her hair before cupping her cheek. "In my eyes Arin was your child. Yours and only yours. Of course I acknowledged her father, but I treated her like my own. I sound selfish, I'll admit I sometimes thought I was going crazy, a psycho for having such thoughts. But I couldn't help it... Especially when I found out he was cheating, I knew I had to be there for you two."

Seulgi leaned against his chest, and with his arm around her, Taeyong slolwy laid down with her. Her hand stroked his clothed chest while his fingers threaded through her locks hummin softly to their favourite song since they were young. They stayed like that in silence for a long time, until he felt her head turn to look up at him so he faced her.

Seulgi stared at him quietly but he could tell she was thinking hard about something. “Taeyong...” he hummed in response. “Will you please adopt Arin?”

Seulgi was moved in by the next day, and Taeyong showed her their new bedroom (technically not a new bedroom, but new to them as a couple). He also helped her move Arin’s things into her room.

A week after she received the divorce letter, the two were already at his office again signing marriage papers, and Taeyong’s adoption over Arin. Seulgi almost teared up watching him sign the adoption papers, and gave him permission to change Arin’s last name to his. It wasn’t just for him though, but Seulgi didn’t want Arin to wake up as that man’s daughter anymore. She wanted Arin to have a better life, with a better father.

The couple had also agreed to not hold any sort of ceremony or such until Arin was better, not just awake, but awake and living. They both prioritised the young girl’s life more than anything else to them, and ever since her doctor allowed for Arin to be kept at home, they even slept in the same room with bedding on the floor, not leaving her alone for a second.

Taeyong once caught Seulgi up at night, crying holding her daughter’s hand. He got up and sat closer to her, hugging her from behind. "It will get better, I promise." he whispered, his hand holding hers which held onto Arin's. She cried even more, turning towards him and hiding her face in his chest.

"I miss her. I feel like I'm losing her day by day. I can't even remember the last words she said to me anymore. I keep having dreams, hallucinations, that she's here with us, playing around the house. Whenever you go to work, when I'm cooking or doing anything, I keep seeing her..."

Taeyong shushed her kissing her forehead, his hand now in her hair while the other pulled her into his lap and stayed at her hips. He knew what she meant, he noticed it too. Whenever Seulgi was silently doing an errand, he'd catch her look straight ahead and suddenly smile. He knew why, but he never bothered her about it, scared she may have not realised it and would only make her worry more.

"I'm tired Taeyong... I feel like giving up."

"Hush Seulgi, don't say or do that. Don't think about it. We will have her back, I promise."

Seulgi only sighed, letting out more tears. "We've done everything. Talk, play music, they said she'll wake up soon. When is soon? It's killing me. I’m going crazy."

Taeyong silently kept craddling her until he felt her go limp and knew she was asleep by then. Slowly he laid her back down on the floor bed they had, not once letting go of her hand as he laid beside her.

As if Arin’s position wasn’t hard enough, Seulgi cried locking herself in the closet. It was Valentine’s Day a week ago, & the couple had decided to take just one day to themselves and rest easy to spend some alone time.

Now she regrets not taking precaution, thinking her timing was safe.

“Seulgi, please open up. I saw it, in the trash. Love come out so we can talk it through. I won’t push you for anything, you know that Seulgi.“

She opened the door and threw herself into Taeyong’s arms, wanting nothing more than silence. Taeyong knew this, and gently carried her up to their bed, still hugging her. They remained quiet for a long time, until she took slower breaths and eased her body. He looked down at her trying to see her expression, giving her forehead a gentle kiss.

“Do you want to keep it?“ he asked softly. “It’s entirely up to you. I’m sorry this happened so suddenly, you have every right to make whatever decision it is.“

Seulgi looked up at him, then hid in his chest again. She didn’t know what to do. For some reason even she couldn’t think of, she had too many conflicitng thoughts going through her head.

What if another child takes their attention away from Arin?

What if Taeyong really disapproves of abortion?

What if having the baby gives them some peace?

What if Arin wakes up happier than ever to this baby?

What if Taeyong forgets about Arin having his own child?

What if hearing the baby will wake up Arin?

What if...

“I don’t know...” she cried again. “I don’t know what to do. There’s so many things, what if Arin loves it and wakes up, or what if you push Arin aside...”

“Hey!“ Taeyong pushed her out and held her by the shoulders. “You know I love Arin more than anything. Why would you say that? That hurts my feelings... I love her Seulgi. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have done so much for her even before our relationship.“

Seulgi looked down feeling guilty of having such thoughts. She knew very well how much Taeyong loved her daughter, how much he would give up for her. She looked back at him and shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry... You’re right, I shouldn’t have thought of that.”

Taeyong sighed before hugging her again. “It’s OK. But tell me, about this now.” he said holding her head to his chest.

After a long silence, Seulgi looked back at him with a nervous look. “Do you think Arin would love a younger sibling?”

Taeyong smiled and cupped her cheek. “Arin’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’d love nothing more than becoming an older sister. Remember how she took care of you when you got sick, and she was only five.” he chuckled softly. Seulgi smiled and looked down to their intertwined hands, the ring on his finger bringing her some sort of reassurance of trust.

part 2 (cuz this is getting too long😅)

[hargreeveslftv]

The Occult: DOOMSDAY | an umbrella academy fanfic

chapter ten | word count: 3,170

CHAPTER TEN | looming  ( song | oh ana - mother mother ) 

"If he's in here, you owe me ten bucks." Klaus comments to Melanie as he leads the way to the door of the Irish pub, not all that far from the academy.

"Deal." She shrugs, shaking his hand but sighing as he pushes open the door, pointing to the large silhouette of their number one. 

"I'll give it to you later." She says begrudgingly, following Diego inside the pub. 

"Trying a little hair of the dog are we?" Klaus asks Luther, the siblings filling the space around him. 

"Leave me alone." He comments bitterly. 

"Give us a moment." Diego tells them, the three looking at him confused as he puts his gloves down on the table. 

"Okay. Come on. Maybe they'll brood each other to death." Klaus sighs, Five and Melanie following him to another table a couple away, close enough to watch for any signs of hostility. 

"Isn't this basically the plot to Batman vs Superman?" Melanie asks, watching the two men talking. 

"Kinda, but Martha has a better ring to it than Reginald." Klaus replies, Five scoffing at their conversation. 

"It's more like Beevis and Butthead but sure, let's go with the hero's thing." 

Melanie is almost about to pat herself on the back at making Five's humor appear for a moment, but doesn't get a chance as Luther bolts up, running out of the door and leaving the rest of them to follow, breaking the door as he runs through it. 

Luther instantly spots the car they arrived in, yet another one from Reginald's garage, and quickly makes his way over, only stopping for a moment as Five calls to him. 

"I'm driving. Get in the back." 

Luther does as instructed, everyone else catching up to him and Five climbing in the drivers seat while Klaus calls shotgun. 

Diego opens the door for Melanie, but she hovers a couple steps back, rooted in place as Diego frowns when she glances up to him, a panicked look on her face. 

"Hey, you good?" He asks quietly, tears starting to burn in her eyes as her words escape her, Diego recognising the look of fear. 

"Somethings wrong. I don't know what." She signs. 

Diego's heart drops at her actions, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. 

"It'll be okay. We'll protect you. I'll protect you." He reassures her, the anxiety still washing over her body, but feeling returning to her hands and feet instead of the cold shivers of her approaching panic attack. 

Melanie nods slowly, letting Diego lead her to the car, where she slides in beside a slightly drunk Luther, Klaus looking over the back of his seat with a worried look on his face, unshed tears burning in his eyes. 

"You too?" He asks as Diego closes the last door, Five starting the car and pulling away from the curb. 

Wordlessly, Melanie nods, Klaus smiling at her sadly before turning around in his seat.

The journey from the city to the remote cabin takes most of the remaining sunlight, a blue haze falling over the world as Melanie sat between Diego and Luther, being squashed between the two larger men offering some form of comfort as they traveled. 

The majority of the journey was passed in silence, apart from Luther's prompting to go faster and Five's loose threats, a sense of impending doom hanging like early morning fog between those that sat in the car, not lifting until the wooden cabin came into view. 

"We're here." Five announces, darkness fully taking over as night settled in. 

Melanie takes a deep breath as she follows Diego out of the car, hanging close to him as the five of them bolt up the stairs, Luther leading the way and bursting through the cabin door. 

"Allison! No!" He yells, immediately falling to his knees. 

Klaus, Five and Diego rush in, and until Melanie makes it past them, she doesn't see her sister laying on the floor in a pool of blood, her throat slashed and eyes barely responsive. 

Klaus barely glances back at Melanie for a moment, but it's enough for them to know. 

This is what they felt coming. 

Luther's tears are the first to fall as he calls Allison's name, Klaus hovering above him scared to make a move at all, while Diego and Five stood in shock at what they saw, Melanie standing behind them all, her body locked in terror as she watched on with the only thing she felt being the slightest touch of a shaking hand holding hers. 

The whole trip back to the academy is a blur, Melanie and Klaus stuffed into the front on the way back, their hands joined tightly as they tried to silently comfort each other through the horror they felt. 

Melanie ran around the car as they arrived back, shutting the doors of the car behind her brothers as they ran inside the house, Allison in their arms much like Five was in hers and Melanie's only the night before. 

Tears fall down Melanie's face as she stands between Klaus and Pogo in the medical room, Grace quickly inspecting Allison as Five helps her. 

"She's suffered a severe laceration to her larynx and requires operation, one of you will need to give blood." Grace informs them, everyone in the room replying at once. 

"I will." The men and Melanie reply, all rolling sleeves out of the way instantly. 

"I'm doing it." Luther insists, before Pogo speaks up. 

"I'm afraid that's impossible, dear boy. Your blood is more compatible with mine." He reminds him, Klaus jumping in instead. 

"Hey don't sweat it. I got this, big guy." He declares, running around the bed and slapping his arm. "I love needles." 

"Master Klaus," Pogo interrupts, "Your blood is… how shall I say this? Too polluted." 

"Move, I'll do it." Diego says next, moving in front of Klaus. 

But, as Grace turns around with the needle, a whimper is all that is heard as Diego faints at her feet. 

Pogo nods, looking down at his passed out body before looking up to Grace. 

"Stick him." 

Luther helps pick him up, setting him down in a chair pushed beside Allison's medical bed before Grace goes about hooking him up. 

"We'll need more than just one doner. Master Five, Miss Melanie, I'm afraid you'll have to contribute as well if we hope for Miss Allison to recover." Pogo warns them, both nodding instantly. 

"I'll go next. Five is still healing, he needs more time." Melanie insists, Pogo agreeing to let her know when she was needed so she could finally leave the room. 

She doesn't take notice of what happens next, only knowing her feet lead her out of the medical room and towards the bedrooms, but not close enough to make it to the bedroom itself, it seems. 

With exhaustion catching up to her body, Melanie collapses in the hallway outside the bedroom doors, her memories brought back as vividly as in her dream, but instead of being picked up by her best friend, Melanie instead pulls herself closer to the wall, leaning against it with her knees curled to her chest as the near constant tears of the night continued to fall down her face. 

Sick of the helpless feeling clinging to her body, she pulls herself up from the floor, kicking her boots off on the way as she walks into the bathroom, filling the sink with cold water. 

Tying her hair back with the hair tie around her wrist, she splashes the cold water in her face, the salt water of her tears getting lost as the temperature shocks her system. 

Gasping for breath after splashing her face again, she almost can't hear Klaus as he calls her name from his bedroom.

"Coming!" She calls back, grabbing a towel and drying off her face quickly, before sidestepping her abandoned boots and bursting into Klaus's room. 

"What's going… on?" 

Klaus stands with his eyes wide in shock, staring directly at Ben who was still frozen in place, looking down at his hands. 

"Can you see Ben?" Klaus asks her carefully, her eyes following his line of sight but seeing nothing but his room. 

"No, not since that time in the car." She denies, brow knotting in confusion, "Why?" 

"Because he just punched me in the face and I think I'm losing my shit." He replies in a whisper. 

"Wait, you're serious aren't you?" She asks, her face softening as she realised how shaken he was. 

With a small nod, Melanie moves closer, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder as she tries to make sense of things. 

"Well, you said it yourself, you're a day sober, that's more sober than you've been basically the whole time we've known each other." She rationalises, Klaus nodding in understanding. 

"Yeah, yeah you're right. You know, maybe with this whole world ending thing it'll actually be kinda helpful." He shrugs with a wave of his hands, Melanie smiling at him encouragingly. 

"Exactly, then Ben can join the group hug as we kick it." She jokes, looking to the side where Klaus could see Ben shaking his head, arms crossed, but a small smile still on his face. 

"You two," Five interrupts, head poking in the doorway, "living room. Now." 

Melanie, Klaus and Ben watch him as he walks off, Melanie letting out a sigh as she looks back to Klaus. 

"We'll come back to this after, yeah?" Melanie asks, to which Klaus nods, sighing deeply. 

"Was he always this bossy?" She asks. 

"Yeah, more or less." She hears from beside her, eyes going wide as she realises it wasn't Klaus who spoke. 

"Okay, we're coming back to that as well." 

Melanie, Ben and Klaus rush downstairs, joining a now conscious Diego and Five as they both pace the living room, Klaus curling up on one couch while Melanie and Ben took the other. 

"The bastard that nearly killed our sister's still out there, with Vanya." Diego says, obvious bitterness in his tone. "We need to go after her." 

"Vanya is not important." Five interrupts, causing the eyebrows of everyone in the room to rise. 

"Hey, that's your sister. A little heartless, even for you, Five." Diego scolds. 

"I'm not saying I don't care about her," He defends himself, "but if the apocalypse happens today, she dies along with the other seven billion of us. Harold Jenkins is our first priority." 

"I agree. Let's go." Diego nods, before he's interrupted. 

"I have a question," Melanie asks, raising her hand and watching as they turned to her.

"Say we find this sick son o' bitch, does anyone specific have to kill him or is it whoever sees him first?" 

Five frowns for a moment, before shrugging slightly. 

"Well, I'd say he was fair game, nothing else has said it needs to be otherwise." He replies, Melanie nodding with a small smile, a plan already formulating in her head as they continued to speak. 

"You guys can count me out." Klaus speaks up as Melanie stands up, ready to follow Five and Diego out, all stopping in their tracks at his words. 

"I mean, you know, no offence or whatever. It's just… I kind of feel like this is a whole lot of pressure for newly sober me, so…" 

"You're coming." Diego insists, but Klaus keeps trying to fight his point, the bickering growing more irritating by the second. 

"Klaus, get up." 

"You can't make me." He replies, eyes squinting at Diego as his face changes to a look one might describe as "oh really bitch" as he reaches for one of his knives, sending it directly into the couch between Klaus's legs. 

"Okay then again, a little exercise couldn't hurt." He sighs, getting up from the couch and leading the way out. 

"Idiots." Melanie says under her breath, Five being the only one to hear her. 

"At least some things never change." 

-

By the time the four arrive at Harold Jenkins house, the last of the moonlight is replaced by bright sunshine, Diego climbing out of the car first as the rest followed him. 

"You gonna jump through the door again?" Melanie asks him as he leads them to the front door. 

"You ever get tired from being the comedic genius of the family or does it just come naturally?" He asks her back sarcastically, frowning as they see the front door ajar. 

"Stay behind me." Melanie warns Five, stepping in front of Diego with her hands already starting to glow as she pushes the door open, ready to jump into action. 

Five squints at her attempt at protecting him, following behind Klaus and Diego as they quietly walk in behind her. 

"Oh, shit. Nevermind." She says, drawing back her powers as she stands in the archway of the kitchen, Harold's body laying lifeless in the middle of the room. 

"It's not exactly what I was expecting." Diego comments as the siblings filter around the chaotic scene.

Just about every sharp object within the house sat lodged into his body, one hell of a grizzly corpse being left on top of the shattered remains of a dining table and various other items of the kitchen.

"The understatement of the year." Five agrees, Klaus taking a closer look before looking to the rest of them. 

"No sign of Vanya." 

"Good, hopefully she's somewhere safe." Melanie comments, turning to follow Klaus and Diego as they walk out. 

"Let's get out of here, before the cops come." Diego instructs. 

"In a minute." Five stops them, bending down beside Harold's body. 

Five pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, dropping a prosthetic eye out of the folded fabric and taking the bandage off of Harold's face, slipping the eye into the socket with a disturbingly moist sound. 

"Same colour, same pupil size. Guys, this is it. The eye I've been carrying around for decades, it-" Five says happily, "it's found its rightful home."

"Poetic cinema." Melanie says sarcastically, speaking mostly just to cover up the noise of Five removing the eye again. 

"We got the guy we needed to kill to stop the apocalypse." Diego says in disbelief, Klaus quick to celebrate jokingly. 

"Yay! Let's go." 

Quickly turning to leave, Diego grabs the back of his shirt, pulling him back into the group between him and Melanie as Five speaks. 

"No, no. Wait. It can't be this easy." He frowns, standing up again, "look, this is the note I got from the commission. The one that says protect Harold Jenkins, aka Leonard Peabody." 

He pulls the paper from his pocket, the siblings gathering around him. 

"Yeah?" 

"But who killed him? Who did this?" Five asks, Klaus immediately chiming in. 

"I have a crazy idea. Crazy, but why don't we find Vanya and ask her what happened?" 

Before he can even finish his sentence, Five blips away, Melanie nodding at his idea and ignoring the fact Five was gone again. 

"I agree with him." Melanie says to Diego, who nods as well.

"If Vanya got away from this asshole, she might be headed back to the academy." He theorises, looking to Melanie as she claps her hands. 

"Let's get back then so we can set up the welcome party." 

It doesn't take the three of them long to get back to the academy, Five already searching for Vanya as they arrive and start assisting in his efforts. 

"No sign of Vanya." He sighs, as the four of them converge on the upper level of the foyer. 

"She's not in any of the rooms." Diego replies, Klaus flailing his hands helplessly. 

"She's not downstairs, either." 

"Or anywhere else in this damn place." Melanie adds, hands on her hips. 

"Well, I'm out." Diego announces, patting Klaus on the shoulder as he walks past him. 

"You're what?" Melanie asks, frowning as she watches him. 

"Wait, where are you going? Vanya's still out there, and so are Hazel and Cha-Cha." Five says, not able to detour him as he stops at the end of the hallway. 

"I know. I'm gonna get my things then I'm outta here. I've got some unfinished business with those fools." 

"And nows the time for the macho man saves the day act?" Melanie calls after him, annoyance reaching a fever point. 

"Good a time as any." He calls back, disappearing around the corner. 

Melanie sighs, leaning against the railing beside Klaus as Five turns to them. 

"Hey, did Dad say anything about the apocalypse when you spoke to him? Any clue on how it happens?" Five asks Klaus, who just shakes his head in response. 

"No, no clues. Truly terrific shave. But no clues." 

Five sighs aggressively before he starts walking away, Klaus running to keep up with him as Melanie crossed her arms and followed along. 

"Well come to think of it he did mention something about my potential, and how I've barely scratched the surface of my-" 

"How did he know about the apocalypse?" Five asks, interrupting him. 

"I don't know, but listen. This whole jumping through time thing of yours, how did… how did you know how to do that?" Klaus asks, stopping him at the bottom of the stairs. 

"I didn't." He admits, "you'd realise that if you were actually sober." 

Melanie frowns at his words, completely discrediting his brother for no good reason. 

"Hey I am sober. I've been sober for two, almost two days now. It feels like forty-five years." He argues, but Five just walks away towards the living room. 

"Who are you kidding, Klaus? I've seen you fidgeting all day." Five frowns, Klaus taking a step closer to him. 

"If he wasn't sober I wouldn't be able to hear Ben. But I've been hearing him for at least the last day now so maybe you're actually wrong for once." Melanie defends, walking down the stairs and standing by her brother's side. 

"Exactly. At least I have back up for what I'm saying. I guess we're both fighting our addictions." Klaus says lowly, Five shaking his head in denial. 

"I'm not an addict." 

"Yeah you are." Klaus says, "You're addicted to a drug called the apocalypse." 

"You're wrong." 

"First sign. Denial." Klaus points out, turning to walk away but getting stopped as Five blips into his path, finger pointing in his face. 

"You and I, we're not the same." 

"I've seen that look in the eyes of someone who doesn't know who they are without their high anymore. Trust me. You gotta just let it go." 

With a scowl on his face, Five throws the prosthetic eye past Melanie, it shattering against the wall as he storms off. 

Melanie watches Five walk off again, before looking to Klaus, who stands wringing his hands beside her. 

"I know you're not lying. I think they just might need a bit more convincing than I do." She smiles sadly at him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. 

"Yeah, yeah, maybe." He agrees with a sigh, watching as she pats his arm before walking away. 

chapter eleven coming saturday, oct 12th

[marshmallowprotection]

Damn, sorry to send yet another ask; also, thank you for your response to my last one. Writing out my feelings as well as reading your response did help me calm down ^^

But there's... there's another thing, and I hope you don't mind this topic, it's kinda heavy. If it's too much, you can go ahead and ignore this.

Erm... self harm warning? Ha...

That was the thing. Is the thing. That I started doing due to that friendship. I think it was curiosity more than anything.

...I don't have depression. Anxiety, yes, and sometimes I get frustrated at myself/my disorder, but not depression. I'm not suicidal either. Sometimes I hurt myself when I'm stressed or anxious, sometimes I do it just because... I need to. I need to and I like it and no one tells me why it's wrong. Why is it wrong?? I honestly don't understand. I'm careful; scratching and biting doesnt cause anything severe... and I'm careful otherwise. I'm not hurting anyone else. I'm not depressed. I'm not suicidal. I just like it and it- it... I'm such a freak, ugh, but I can't help the fact that I like it.

I don't do it all the time, it's kind of an off-and-on thing. Just whenever I have the urge.

And my mom... maybe at some point I might've considered telling her, but now I know that I never will. She's made some comments recently about cutters that... they aren't rude or anything, they just show that she'll never understand me. And I don't want to risk emotionally hurting her because she won't understand.

...why is it wrong? No one can answer me. All that comes out of it is relief, even if it isn't exactly the best means. So what's wrong with it?

I've told a number of my friends, actually, and I can tell they don't know what to do. I have one friend who occasionally asks me how I'm doing in regards to that, but I can tell they just... are lost. Don't want to deal with it because they don't know what to do.

I don't want to be stopped. But... maybe if someone could understand me for once and tell me why it's wrong, maybe that person would be able to convince me...

The only thing that stops me before I do it (besides lacking energy/a true desire to do it)... Ugh, this is going to sound so pathetic. Relying on someone who doesn't even exist. But it's Saeyoung... sometimes just imagining his face gives me pause; I hesitate.

But he's not real. Even if he was, who's to say he'd be able to give me an answer?

Maybe I'll never find anyone who can convince me. That's... that's fine. I don't want to be stopped. I only know destructive means of releasing anger, and tearing paper doesn't work that well. Biting my hand, however, brings immediate calm.

I did it right in front of my mom out of habit during an argument which was stressing me out. Immediate relief. She didn't even realize what I was doing.

[417]

TW: Self-Harm, Cutting, Depression, Anxiety 

Self-Harm is a dangerous thing to pick up. It doesn’t just mean cutting. It means that you could deny yourself things or bite yourself or crawl at your skin. It’s not something to feel ashamed of or feel guilty about because feelings are very hard to deal with in a healthy way when you don’t have a safe space or people that you can reach out to that can show you better ways to cope with your pain and depression. So, I hope that you know that you’re not a bad person and that it will get better in your life. 

This is something that is going to take some time to work on. You’re not hurting anyone but yourself, dear. Nobody deserves to suffer or feel horrible. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting and that nobody has been able to gently guide you and show you that life can be worth living when you know where to start to help yourself feel better again. One doesn’t have to have depression per se to have struggles with self-harm, either. 

I’m sorry that you don’t feel safe enough to open up to your family about this, or your friends. Self-harm is addictive, and it’s very hard to stop once you’ve had the time to start it. It’s harmful to you. Do you deserve to be hurt? No. You don’t. Nobody does. You’re looking for something to help you feel something other than numbness, and yes, pain is a feeling that one can have but it’s not the feeling that you need. 

I don’t want to scold you or shame you, so I hope that my tone is coming across gently because I do worry about you! I worry about anyone that is struggling with so much pain in their heart on their own. I know how hard that is. The answer that you’re looking for is for someone to tell you that you matter, that your life matters, that your existence matters. It does. I promise you that it does mean something to many people. 

You can’t wait for someone to tell you that all the time, but I understand that people want to hear it from the ones that they love the most. There’s no right thing to tell you other than that I hope that you know that you can find better ways to cope with your pain. It’s harmful because it isn’t helping you sort out your feelings. It’s just hurting you in more ways than you’re able to see. 

If you would like to know better ways to cope with self-harm, I can direct you to some better coping mechanisms and references that you can check out. I’ve had many people tell me that biting into lemons or drinking something really tart can jolt you out of feeling numb. That’s one of the major things with self-harm, trying to feel something that isn’t numbness. My fiance stands by submerging your face in ice water for a few seconds to deal with his urges. He’s a few years into his recovery, so I trust him with that theory. 

There are other ways to be mindful and help yourself. I promise. If you want to talk more, I’m always here and I’m always willing to listen to whatever you have to say. If you just need a void to scream into, just let it out. Your mother may not understand, but if you’re old enough, you can speak to your doctor about getting someone to talk to about this. I think 16 is the minimum age or that in many of the states. 

Now, for the other half of what you said. Don’t feel ashamed for coping with a character. In many cases, that’s the only outlet that many young people have to hold onto you. The only reason that I, for example, was able to deal with what happened to me throughout my childhood and recently, my adulthood, was the fact that I could clutch onto a character to feel better. I still do it. I close my eyes and imagine that comfort character reassuring me. It’s not silly, it’s not wrong, and if it helps you, don’t let anyone make you feel bad. 

I’m so very self-insert and OC positive because I know how important it is for people to cope with their pains and woes. Sometimes, you just want to flirt with a cute character, or you want to be cherished, and you find that in a character. I think that’s sweet. Our brains don’t go “fictional” or “real”, if you love something or someone, that love is tried, true, and real. You love him. That’s real, and he would want you to be happy and taken care of. 

That’s real. Saeyoung wants you to be happy and wants you to be able to live your life. He’s always willing to listen if you need to write to him. I do that at times, just writing out how I feel and how I know Saeran would talk to me back about it. They empathize and understand your pain. They would want you to feel okay but they would never shame you for hurting. Nobody should. I hope that you can feel better in the future and that you always remember that things will be okay. 

Fight for yourself and for your happiness, easier said than done, but I believe in you! I actually wrote a writing trade for someone who has similar struggles if you would like to read that with Saeyoung.

[polyamoroamer]

Webs and Nets

I've been thinking a lot recently about what I want out of life, what I can offer the world and those around me, and what I need to grow and change. I think we all have.

The world right now is in flux. It is a scary time and scary place. We have violent men in power; rising bigotry and hatred; a global pandemic with hundreds of thousands dead; rampant transphobia and rampant racism; police brutality against those who dare to rise up for peace, for strength and for love. We live in a dystopian novel.

But the thing is that we always have, in many ways. Native Americans are still living through the apocalypse that decimated their ancestors and stole their land; African Americans are still living through the apocalypse that pillaged them from their homes and forced them into slavery thousands of leagues away. The legacy of horror continues. This is not new. But what we are seeing right now is a pinch point, an historical time where things could swing toward the better, the brighter future.

During lockdown I have been keeping away from people almost totally, as my grandmother whom I shop for and visit is 97 next week and I want her to see 100. I went to one BLM rally, the biggest protest I've ever seen in my predominantly white little conservative town. Bigger even than our ridiculously large Pride (we have a truly exemplary number of radical LGBTQ+ people for such a Tory stronghold). But I have not stepped out past that, as it was simply impossible to socially distance, and I am protecting someone.

I have been working hard on the campervan conversion, building the bathroom and starting the kitchen cabinets. I'm considering linking this blog with my real life at last, so may eventually post photos of it when it's finished. I've complained about it to you friends enough!

I started a new kids' novel about a trans girl who finds out she is a witch and navigates the difficulties of coming out to her parents and living as openly trans at school, and learns magic at the same time.

I've cut the pieces out for so many new items of clothing to sell, and am hopefully going to sew them all soon.

It sounds very productive but it doesn't feel it. Every step is three steps backward before I can move on, every day feels like a punch. I've been creating out of desperation, trying to justify my use of oxygen and food and space by making things.

A few weeks ago on the Solstice that came to a head. Dash and I were going to go out in the campervan and trip for the first time since last summer. But I couldn't fix the leaking skylight (again), I took hours longer trying to make it work than I should have done, and finally when the time came to leave, we picked up my mattress to put in the camper and it had been utterly ravaged by mould.

This might sound like only a minor setback, but to me it was breaking point. That mattress has changed my life. I woke up in the mornings without pain, able to get up and go whether I did my morning yoga or not. I slept soundly, heavily. I dreamed strange dreams and I felt rested. I didn't hurt. It was a £1800 mattress I found secondhand for £250. And I ruined it. It felt like the perfect coming together of all of my failures as an activist, as a child, as a partner, as a creator, a builder, an adult, a grandchild, a sibling, performer, writer, as a human being. Through my own negligence I destroyed something very expensive to replace that had supported me, cradled me, held me and become my haven and sanctuary.

So I had a pretty solid breakdown. I slid back into old habits, the clawing of skin and banging of heads. I had a headache for days. It felt so ridiculous. Such a small, insignificant thing to go wrong when compared with the huge issues facing vast swathes of humanity. But as we all know, often the thing that sets off the breakdown is not the biggest issue. It's just the last little drip that makes the bucket start overflowing.

Since then I have had several smaller incidents in a similar vein, and every time I mock myself for them.

But I am lucky. My mother and my partner, and most of my family really, are all very supportive of my, and one another's, difficulties. When I fuck up and spiral into a self-destructive vortex, my loved ones give me space to recover, help me to fix the problems, and unquestioningly forgive my mistakes. It's astounding to me, the amount of patience they can have with me, when in my own eyes I am a ceaseless burden and chronic fuck up. They hold my hand and tell me I am wanted, I am loved and it is a pleasure and joy to be with me. They help me to repair or replace or heal or learn. They love me.

And in this I come to see how similar we are. Because I do the same for them. When Dash makes a mistake and becomes convinced he's always just an accident waiting to happen, I reassure him, help him to fix the problem, and give him space to stew. When my mum panics two or three times a day over technical issues, I swoop in to save the day. When Nanny Ogg puts herself down because she believes the voice of her abuser, I swamp her with verbal affirmation and love.

We all take care of each other. We are all parts of the web. Or really it's more like a net, with no one person at the centre. Everyone looks after everyone.

I want to expand this network. Recently I have been trying something new in my relationships. Whenever I think positively about someone, I send them a message, even if it's only 'hey, how are you? Thinking of you'. This is a hard practice to get into, because it requires fighting executive dysfunction and social anxiety and depression to reach out even when I don't feel like it.

But I have frequently not done this, and people have died suddenly, and I have felt so guilty for not having sent those messages. Many, many loved ones right now are suddenly seriously ill or abruptly gone. And I can't afford to not send every loving message that pops into my head because the grief and guilt are just too much the way it stands.

When faced with that stick, it's much easier to pursue the carrot.

I have felt very alone and very grief-stricken for a long time, and so have many of us. COVID is just the latest upheaval and tragedy in many people's lives. We're almost numb to fear and grief, but not quite. We're just full up. But we are not alone, and it's up to us to remind other people that they aren't either. As we show love, so we shall be shown love.

So right now I am throwing nets wide, throwing love out into the world and reminding the people I like that I care about them. Because I want to forge new relationships, rebuild old ones, and create unity and community with the people around me. What does it matter what form those relationships take, as long as they exist and are nutritious to our hearts and souls?

The world is hard right now, and we can't survive it alone. But together we have a chance, and if we don't start now, when will we?