#for trying to grieve and move on instead of holding onto hope

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I will bore you all writing about Doctor Finlay, but bear with me.

One of the most unrealistic aspects of the Doctor Finlay-Nurse Meitland mess is the idea that they got engaged right before or as the war begun, and then for some reason had not seen each other ever since. Brenda has never left Tannachbrae during that time; which would have been an easier fix, had she joined up as an army nurse herself and been sent to units far from John's. I guess it couldn't be because the maximum drama of her new American fiancé living in town couldn't possibly be cut off. The western front didn't reopen till 44'.

The only possible mitigation, then, would be for Finlay to have been on the desert front, and lo and behold, upon rewatching 1x02, he tells a kid he was in the desert, then Sicily, then Italy, and finally Germany. But even on this generous scenario of the writers it doesn't make sense. If Finlay had had 6 years of ininterrupted service without leave home, chances are he'd have priority to have leave home as soon as the war ended, specially because I don't think personnel was being roaded or flown directly from Italy to Germany for obvious reasons of logistic convenience. So he would have been home on leave after may 45, and so the plot as presented is absurd.

But then it is all doubly absurd because the most reasonable and likely course of action would be for him to hear about it through letters. A dear John letter, or even someone from town condoling with him by assuming that the public status of Brenda's new engagement meant that Finlay had been informed too. What is the audience supposed to assume about their correspondence? Was he writing her tender, loving letters and receiving no response? Was he receiving tepid, general letters from her and being unconsciously or deliberately dense?

It makes no sense. Compels me though.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

LOSS OF MY LIFE

chuuya x reader

chuuya questions his humanity while you’re on your deathbed.

inspired by loml

he wished he never knew you.

at least then, he wouldn’t have the feeling of knowing you, knowing every part of you, but not having you around.

it all happened so fast. one wrong mission. one wrong move. one wrong mistake that should’ve landed on chuuya- but costed you everything. he should have seen the attack coming, but he didn’t. why didn’t he? the one time chuuya nakahara fucked up, it fucked you over instead.

it should have been me. he thought.

he’s lost track of time. he knows he has work to return to, stacks of paper on his desk. his stomach growls and his throat is parched for water. his eyes yearn to close, wanting to sleep. but he can’t. you’re not there to keep him company in his otherwise barren office. you’re not there to share the meal with him and scold him about staying hydrated. you’re not there to be wrapped up in his arms, fully trusting you while you sleep together. because you’re here. on the hospital bed, tubes attached to you keeping you alive.

the beeps of your heart monitor was merely white noise to him now. the doctors told him to hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. you were hit in one to many fatal areas. you lost almost too much blood. you might not recover. you might not wake up.

but she has too. he thought.

spending a year with someone does a lot to a person. chuuya had loved before you, but never like this. he had never promised so much for someone, felt his heart beat the way it did for you. you and him promised marriage, a family, you two promised forever.

chuuya nakahara was a man of the mafia.

and that meant he knew death better than anyone.

in his line of work, losing people meant hoping that death is kinder than life. he didn’t have the time to grieve, he could only wish them peace in slumber and fortify his heart. he had been through it, possibly preparing himself for worse and worse each time.

but nothing could have prepared him for this.

chuuya could feel his being overfill with grief. he had given so much love to you. so much time, so many promises, so many kisses, embraces, late nights and forevers to you. he’d given you every fibre of his mortal being because fuck, he loved you. and he had never felt a love like yours- and he didn’t want to try and feel anyone else’s because it would never feel like yours. his grief was just love with nowhere to go.

you were an anchor to chuuya’s humanity, something that kept him in place throughout all the pain and suffering of his life. he thought he would love you forever. but right now chuuya wished he could forget. forget the life you two almost had. the wedding you almost had. the kids you almost raised. the life that was so close he could graze it with his fingertips right before the rug was pulled out from underneath him. it was either he had it all with you, or didn’t know you at all. not the in between. not the purgatory. not the almost.

“i’ll love you for the rest of my life.” he hears you say in the tone of voice he adored.

he wasn’t sure what he would do if that life ended too short. no, not when you were supposed to be forever.

he would rather tear down the world than lose you. he’d tear the roots of the world into pieces, collapse buildings upon buildings and set everything in his sight ablaze. he’d burn down everything, everyone and anything that dared his grief. and in the end he’d cause massive waves to erupt from the ocean floors, washing over all who inhabits the planet, making sure no one would return from the seas unbiased fate.

i’d do it. he bargains in his mind, pleading to anyone out there who may hear his call. he was never the faithful type, but seeing you barely hold onto your life made him desperate. maybe arahabaki would hear him, maybe the universe would. i’d do it for her. just bring her back. bring her back to me.

he held your wired hand, a knot in his chest forming feeling how cold you were. it felt like death was already trying to take you away from him, and chuuya wasn’t having it.

he wanted to speak, to call out to you. he wanted to beg you to wake up, remind you that he’s still here. remind you that you still have a life to live. a life with him.

he opened his mouth, but nothing camee out.

he wasn’t just losing you. he was losing his life.

and he felt all of it escape his eyes and roll down his cheeks.

[tojisbbygworl]

Before I Let Go - Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: A grieving woman comes face to face with her thought to be deceased husband and can't find it in her to care about how wrong this was. She missed him. So much.

WARNINGS: Thoughts of Suicide, Suicide Attempt

Words: 4,994

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Emotional Smut, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Yandere, Spying, Kidnapping, Minimal Spanish terms of endearment

author's note: hey y'all. I have another fic for you. I am so glad I finished it it's been sitting in my drafts for a minute. The yandere part of this isn't violent although there is some slight physical pain put on the reader during sex. Just a mention of choking and scratching it's not bad. It's more obsession if anything. Also, I wasn't even gonna try with the Spanish girl. The most he says is carina and hermosa and I know y'all are sick of seeing that atp. I barely even tried with the British for Hobie I'm not about to embarrass myself LMAO

I hope this makes y'all sad honestly I feel like I could have made it sadder but I'm still very happy with it. Anyway, enjoy! 🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

The buzzing sound of a phone call is all that can be heard in the apartment. It has been a week since the funeral, and Y/N O’Hara hasn’t said a single word. She doesn't even remember what her voice sounds like.

Miguel O'Hara was everything to her. He meant the entire world. She would do anything he asked, but he never asked for much. All he wanted was her love. She was the same with him. A perfect partnership. She felt like she was on top of the universe. And then it was taken away from her. In a fucking car crash, no less.

He was the smartest person she knew. He was the head geneticist at Alchemax after all. He wasn't a stupid driver. No. It was the other driver's fault. But what could she do about it? It was just a kid. A teenager that had just gotten their license, but hadn't taken official driving lessons; no one really drilled into them the severity of texting while driving. How could she really blame them? How could she press charges? Miguel always told her that she was too forgiving. Too understanding.

He was right. But...she also couldn't help but to think it wasn't fair. That her beautiful husband had to die from their actions, and all they had to deal with was an insane insurance increase and a fucked up car that their parents were bound to replace. She would give anything to trade consequences. Anything.

Almost two months since his death, she's been wandering around her apartment frequenting the most common places she and Miguel would cuddle in. She always had a shared blanket, one of his shirts, or a pillow that had his hair on it to squeeze and cry into. If she sprayed it with his cologne and shut her eyes really tight, she could almost imagine he really was there. Almost.

These objects could never replace him. She missed his warmth. She missed his chest pushing her head up and down from his breathing. It would rumble when he chuckled. His hands were so large that her entire back would heat up when he held her gently. He was so tall, 6'6 to be exact, he would completely engulf her whenever they embraced. She felt so safe in his arms. She doesn't feel safe anymore.

Nearly two months of hunching over on the floor of her apartment in pain. She wailed into the ground. Coughing and scratching whatever she could hold onto, because the pain was too much to bare. Oh, the pain. She wouldn't wish this kind of heartbreak on anyone or anything.

The apartment was large, courtesy of his checks. He could already afford it on his own, then, the both of them married just a few years ago and he didn't expect her to pay a dime, despite how much she insisted. Instead, she bought food and handled upkeep. If it got too expensive, then he would chip in. She would have to move out eventually, his remaining income and life insurance the only thing keeping her afloat. Just another thing that she can’t fathom.

It was 3 bed, 2 bath. One was their bedroom, the other was his office, she's been going in there a lot as well, and they always wondered what they would do with the last room. For so long, it was empty even before she moved in with him. He never knew what he could use it for. He had hoped that she would turn it into a hobby room, she loved to paint and she played the violin a little, but there was a beautiful terrace attached to the apartment that she opted for instead and she insisted the living room had the best acoustics so the room remained a mystery. Until last year, when he dropped a bomb on her.

It was an extremely average day for the both of them. They were both home from work, nothing interesting to report, and were deciding what to eat for dinner. She suggests something they could cook, and he agrees. As the night goes on, something seems off about Miguel. He's quiet and zoning out a lot. Something has to be on his mind, right?

"Babe," she calls for him snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?" She puts her hand on his shoulders and gives him a worried look. Miguel swallows his spit then turns towards her grabbing her hand and placing his on her waist.

"I've been thinking..." His voice is small. She starts to grow anxious as she had never seen him look so timid. He was more nervous than when he asked her to marry him.

"W-What is it?" She stutters. He kisses her knuckles.

"It's just something that I've been wanting for a while now. And if you don't, then It's completely fine. I care about your happiness above everything."

"Miguel, stop being so cryptic and tell me what's up," She half jokes.

He nervously bites his lips and looks away. Then, taking a deep breath, he looks into her eyes and says, "I want to have a kid."

She felt it was best to pretend the work-in-progress nursery didn't exist. In her mind, the room is still empty. There wasn’t a crib set up. The walls weren't in the process of being painted. They didn't have arguments about what to put on it because they didn't know the gender. In fact, gender of what? They weren't planning for a baby. The third room is as empty as she is.

The both of them were foolish, deciding to get everything set up before she got pregnant instead of winging it like everyone else. She should have winged it. Then maybe she would still have a piece of him with her.

It was so fucking hard to focus on what mattered. She was hanging on a thread that thinned out every single day. Before the funeral, she wondered what would be her breaking point? The point where she finally got up and decided to keep going.

The weather was very fitting for that day. The sun was gone, and the rain came in waves. Her tears, however, never stopped. It was a stupid decision to make it open casket. She gazed upon his resting face for the first time since he died in the hospital then turned and ran to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten to say her speech; Miguel’s mother read for her instead.

Something inside her snapped. Sometimes the pain is a dull ache in her chest, and she’s numb everywhere else. Other times it’s a sharp twang that she can feel in her back. She has to lay or sit down when that happens. Sometimes it courses through her entire upper body and she can’t even move. But this…this stabbing, twisting, and searing pain that ripples through her heart and travels to the tip of her fingers and toes…she hasn’t felt this before.

This was the breaking point, but it did the opposite. She didn’t talk for the rest of the day, her and his family begging her to stay with them. She didn’t listen.

It was nights like tonight that she felt completely alone. She knew she wasn’t, if she just picked up the phone and texted someone, then maybe she would be okay. She just needed to stop looking at the ceiling, turn to her nightstand, pick up her phone, and call her mother. But it was 1 in the morning, and Miguel looked so happy in her lock screen picture…

Her and Miguel had been up here on the top of the apartment building so many times before. They liked to dance, he would watch her play or paint, they had picnics together, it was perfect when they wanted to get out of the apartment, but still have some privacy.

The view was nice. They could see across the entirety of Nueva York. Central Park in the fall was especially amazing to gaze upon. But now it fills her with grief. As she steps on top of the edge, she decides that if this couldn’t make her feel better, then nothing could.

She’s glad she’s doing this in the middle of the night, where no one could see her and call for help. She was sure that she would traumatize a couple people when morning came, a problem that she couldn’t be bothered by. She was ready to be back in his arms. So she walked off. And closed her eyes as she plummeted through the air.

She’s scared. But excited. She only has to feel excruciating pain for a second and then never again. It’s almost over.

She hits something, or more so, something hits her. She’s still flying through the air, but it’s different now. There’s a warm body holding onto her for dear life, and she’s soaring upwards into the night sky. Opening her eyes to gaze at her savior, she sees a masked silhouette. It-it’s Spider-Man…but he looks completely different. She can barely see him, the only source of light being the moon, but she could swear that this wasn’t his mask.

They land on the rooftop again and he puts her down. She crawls away from him, embarrassed and ashamed at what she’s done. She was still alive and now she was in more pain than ever before. Wailing on the floor, she glared up at him in vitriol.

“Why did you save me?” She yelled, her voice powerful for a woman who hadn’t been verbal for a week. Spider-Man didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. “I didn’t want to be saved.” Still, he said nothing. So she continued to cry, and she cried harder and harder until she felt a sensation on her back.

He was trying to comfort her, but when she turned he backed off, holding his hands up instead. Her lips quivered, then she threw herself into his arms. His hold on her body was snug and comforting. Her anger for him dissipates immediately as she accepts his affection. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. She didn’t want him to let go.

And he didn’t. He stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked her up, gazing upon her peaceful face with the light from the inter dimensional portal, then walked into it with no intention of coming back.

~

This wasn’t her room.

She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. These weren’t her sheets, that wasn’t her wallpaper, the blinds were different, the floor wasn’t carpeted, everything even the floor plan of the room was different. This isn’t her home.

Her heart begins to pound. Where was she? She was still in her clothes, but that’s the only comfort that she had. Immediately, she shoots out of the bed, the comforter tangling in her feet making her fall onto the floor. The large thump that her fall makes scares her. She stays on the floor, still and quiet as a mouse. There's no noise for a couple seconds. Then, the sound of someone walking.

She hyperventilates, quickly removing herself from the blanket and standing up. But she realizes that she has no where to go. There's a small closet in the room, and space under the bed, but those the only hiding spaces she can think of. And the footsteps were getting closer. What can she do, she wonders as she backs into the wall.

The door swings open. And her heart stops.

Miguel stared at his wife's variant in concern and turns on the light. The woman blinks and shields her eyes, but the bewildered look that she sported quickly comes back. "What happened?"

When he spoke, she gasped and took another step back. She smacked her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened with tears, her breath shuddered. "You're alright?" Miguel asked her again. She didn't answer.

For what felt like the longest time, they just stared at each other. He was afraid of approaching her thinking he may scare her away. She was in completely disbelief at what she was seeing. Miguel raised his hands and stayed near the door way. "Please, don't freak out," he began.

She let out a sob, tears escaping her eyes when she did. Placing her hand on her chest, she lifts herself from the wall. Miguel takes this as a sign to keep going.

"I know you must be confused. You're probably upset and angry. I understand." She took a step forward. "But if you would just left me explain..." Another step. Then another. And another. And she held her hand out in front of her. As she approached him, he realized how badly she was trembling, and it only got worse the closer she got. But still, she moved forward.

The speech Miguel had been practicing before she woke up died in his throat. He was speechless as he watched her courageously close the space between them. When she finally stood right in front of him, she hesitated. He could hear her soft gasps and cries. Then finally, she softly touched his chest. He looked down at her hand, then up at her face. Even though she was crying profusely, she looked upon him in wonder. He just wants to reach out and grab her, but he holds himself back.

She begins to rub his chest and torso, appalled by his presence. He looks back down at her hands. Then, they trail themselves up to his neck, stopping right under his chin. He lifts his head up. They both hold their breath for a second. Then, with a gasp from her, and a sigh from him, she finally touches his cheek. Miguel closes his eyes and leans into her palm. He lifts his arm up, and encases her hand in his, keeping it in place.

Her lips begin to move. With a tiny shaky breath, she whispers, "It's you."

Miguel's face is troubled. He has a small frown and his eyebrows were upturned. He twists his head in her palm to give it a small kiss.

Her eyes flicker all over his body. It is him...but he's different. He's taller now. His build is thicker and he feels tense. Miguel was a gym buff, but this man...this kind of definition is not built in the gym. His frown is deep, and so are his wrinkles. His eyes were more troubled than hers, and had the slightest hint of red. And his teeth...she could feel his sharp canines with her thumb.

"No," she realizes. "It's not you."

Miguel opens his eyes and stares at her. He can see the fear growing on her face, and he starts to panic. He moves his hand to her wrist to hold it gently. But he's prepared to squeeze it if she tries to run. "I'm not him. But-"

"But you look like him." She continues, her voice on the precipice of hysteria. "And you sound like him." She holds both of his cheeks and caresses his face with her thumbs. "And you feel like him..."

Miguel winces as he watches her cry louder and louder with every observation. "Cariña, please," He takes her hands off of his face and kisses her knuckles. She completely breaks down crying. Miguel reaches his arms out, and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing into his neck. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now."

"But who are you?" Her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He gulps. "...I am Miguel, but-"

"But you're not my Miguel, are you?" She lifts her head up to stare at him. She looked anguished, her brain not being able to process what was going on. He doesn't answer. "Did you save me?" He nodded. "Why?"

"I had to, baby. I-"

"Where did you come from?" She pushes herself off of him, and Miguel can't find it in him to hold her there. He let's go of her, knowing that there is no where she can really run where he won't find her. "No, where have you been?"

He furrows his brows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Where the hell have you been?" She screams at him in unbridled rage. Her tears were never ending, and her glare was fierce. "I was in fucking agony when you died. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't get over you. I didn't want to. I missed you so much." Her anger turned into desperation and she falls to her knees on the floor, weeping into her hands. Miguel looks on in desolation, his eyes filling with tears as well. He walks to her and leans down, trying to get her to stand. She flips her head up at him. "Who are you?"

"Please, let me explain." He sits on the floor with her, holds her face and leans into it. She doesn't pull away, instead, she kisses him first, her cries never ending. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair. Miguel wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He sits back and pulls her into his lap.

The kiss lasts until they run out of breath, then they pull away, panting in each others' faces. "I...am Miguel." He starts. "But not your Miguel. And you are not my Y/N."

She shakes her head and scrunches up her face. "Just listen." Her mouth closes again, and she relaxes preparing herself to take in every word he says...

...Miguel spent a lot of time watching her. His Y/N, across the multiverse. In each one, they are together. It's fate. And in every one...she dies. No matter what that universe's Miguel does, she dies. That must be fate, too. Then he found a universe where that didn't happen. He died instead. He took a chance, and when he replaced himself he was the happiest he had ever been. And then everything was destroyed. An entire universe...gone. He swore to never interfere with fate again. He whispered a soft 'sorry' to every Miguel he found after that.

He saw her, Y/N on Earth - 548. Happy as ever with her devilishly handsome husband. He felt for him. He had no idea the heartbreak he was about to experience. But, for the second time in his studies, he was the one who died. He cried, knowing that he could never do anything about it. When she became a shell of her former self, he focused all of his attention on her. Putting all of his work on Jess and Peter, he monitored her. He watched her cry, she spent all of her time off from work at home rolling around in her bed as if the emotional pain was so strong that it was physical as well. He watched her touch herself at night, whispering his name into the empty air, him joining her from where he was spying groaning her name as well, wishing his cum was dripping from her cunt instead of down his hand. He called for her, hoping that his prayers to keep her safe would reach who ever was listening. They didn't.

He knew that when she sat up like a ghost from her bed that fateful night, she was about to do something rash. He held his hand over his watch, ready to jump as soon as he felt he needed to. When she began to walk to the edge, he decided to not even risk it and hopped into the portal.

He didn't expect her to turn and scream at him the way she did. He hadn't heard her beautiful voice for some time, he missed it so much, and the first thing she did was yell at him. He was stunned. He couldn't believe she was right in front of him. He looked at his watch. No indication of a canon event. There was nothing. Which meant...she was never supposed to die.

He was impulsive, he knows that. But, it worked out in his favor. She was supposed to be alive. He had done right. And now he had a decision to make. Does he leave her here to figure everything out on her own, or does he take her with him...and let her family think she's dead…

“You were watching me?”

Miguel refuses to meet her eyes. She didn’t move, but he tightened his grip around her just in case. Her voice was wavering.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why didn’t you save him?”

He looked up at her that time. Above everything else, she was melancholy. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I just couldn’t, mi amor. You don’t understand.”

With her face contorted in pain, she released a choked sob. Her mouth was hung open. If she chose to believe this imposter, than hearing that nothing could have been done about the love of her life brought her no comfort. It wasn’t fair.

She gripped Miguel’s shirt letting her head fall forward into his chest. He held her for a long time while her shoulders shook. “Please, believe me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her cries stopped. He began to worry, but she soon lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. His flicked back and forth between hers, and the both of them dive into another passionate kiss. This time, they don’t let up from each other. It gets more intense. Miguel’s breath picks up as his hands begin to explore her back and waist. She pushes her body up against his, rubbing their chests together.

She’s the one who pulls away opting to kiss down from his cheek to his neck. “Just come to bed with me. Please?” She begs into his skin.

Miguel, in a daze, whispers “Okay.”

He lifts her up and lays her down onto his bed, kissing her sweetly as he climbed on top of her. He felt so much bliss, he never imagined he would be able to do this again.

The way she grabbed his face made him never want to physically leave her side again. This was where he wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. She kissed him with so much despair, so much need, how could he ever leave her mouth? But, the strain in his pants and the grip she had on his back get worse, and he finds a reason to pull away.

She whimpers, missing the way his tongue caressed her mouth, leaving her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes open, silently asking him where he was going, until he reached under the hem of her shirt and lifts it off of her, exposing her beautiful breasts. She gasps when he begins to rub his hand between them, eventually grabbing one to hold and play with. Miguel grins at her while she watches him rub his thumb across her hardened nipple. Which turned into her watching him dip his head down to her sternum and leave the smallest, lightest kiss.

The restraint he had on himself as he trailed his mouth down her body was unnatural. His claws had long since come out, ripping into the bedsheets as he tried so hard not replace them with her luscious hips. She was responding unbelievably well, making him happy he didn’t listen to Lyla tell him how terrible of an idea this was.

Lyla was wrong, he told himself when he heard her soft cry as his tongue played with her nipple. She began to squirm from frustration, and he just had to push his hips in between her open legs, the heat from his dick making her rub her wet panties along his shaft. Miguel moaned with her nipple fully inside his mouth, her moaning with him from the vibration against her chest.

She’s not scared of me, he thought as he leaves her nipple and kisses down her body. His lips finally met up with her panties, opting to push them to the side instead of taking them off completely. He places a kiss on her sensitive clit, his precum staining his underwear when she yelps. Miguel takes a moment to look at her glistening pussy, then he closes his eyes when he finally licks it.

And she doesn’t hate me. Miguel looks drunk when he starts eating her out. His eyebrows are raised and he gently placed her hand on her spread thigh, caressing the soft skin. Her whines making him even more desperate to please her, he presses his tongue into her center harder. His lips are covered with her fluid. Miguel gives her thigh a nice squeeze, then a slap, then he stands up straight.

When she opens her eyes to look at him, her heart races. His eyelids were low, and he towered over body making her feel smaller than she was. His stare was filled with infatuation, wiping off his lower face with one swipe of his large hand. Without breaking eye contact, he rips his shirt off and swipes his pants and underwear down, his large member bouncing back up. Miguel spit into his palm and started jerking himself off. Then, he climbs onto the bed, aligning his hips with hers.

He drools onto her pussy, her shuddering as his spit meets her clit and runs down her lips. It does well to lube her up with Miguel rubbing his tip in between her folds. “Ngh…fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of her wet cunt on his sensitive head giving him a feeling of euphoria.

She grew impatient, while Miguel was trying to take his time and savor her, she was ready to feel him split her apart. This was something she’s been dreaming about since she lost him. She waited for the day his naked body would engulf hers, his face on her cheek whispering filthy insults and sweet praises into her ear. As she remembers how sex used to be with her love, she starts to tear up.

“Miguel,” she whined making him look at her worriedly. When his eyes open, the red she noticed before is even more prominent. His mouth was opened slightly so she could barely see his fangs. How he could look so similar yet so different from her Miguel, she doesn’t know.

“Yes?” He asks her.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer. I want…” She moves her hips on him again. Miguel looks down at their hips and holds hers still.

He doesn’t respond, just pushes his length into her slowly. He grunts as he sheathes himself inside her warmth, reveling in her cries. “Shit, baby.” She’s tight and squeezing him so nicely, he can’t stop until he's inside of her fully.

She’s breathing heavily with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her back is arched lifting her naked chest into the air. “Look at me,” Miguel commands. She lifts her head up giving him what he wanted. Her eyes are filled with tears. It hurts, but feels so good. She missed him so much, and now they were one again.

Miguel whimpers at her beautiful face. “Hermosa,” he reaches out to her cheek to hold it. “Don’t cry.”

“But I love you,” she tells him.

He gasps. His hand lifts from her face. Freezing, he stares into her eyes in disbelief. “W-What?”

She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, leaving a gentle smooch. Her eyes close and the tears fall. “I love you, Miguel.”

His eyesight gets blurry as well, and soon Miguel is crying profusely. “Oh, baby,” he leans over her and pulls his hips backwards. Then he slams himself back down, making her yelp. She grabs his face and kisses him. “I love you too.”

As Miguel fucks her slowly, neither of them can find it in them to stay quiet. Miguel has to tell her how terribly in love with her he is. She has to let him know how much she missed him. He leans into her neck and whispers how he missed her too, and to stop crying because he’s here now. Even though, he can’t stop crying either.

She’s so happy to hear that he will never leave her side. She decides to believe him, accepting happiness instead of reality. She ignores his red eyes, his sharp fangs that press against her neck, as if he can barely hold himself back from biting her. She ignores how different the rumbling in his chest is from her Miguel. It’s not soft or sweet nor does it make her content. This one is predatory and dangerous, it makes her nervous.

She dismisses the way he grabs her neck; tight, leaving her with no air, whereas her Miguel knew that she didn’t like it rough. Honestly, neither did he. This Miguel went faster and harder. He grunted into her ear. But, she doesn't care.

She completely ignores how different this Miguel was. Her wishes were answered. She got him back. It doesn’t matter that his hold on her hip was so strong that he’s scratching her. That he didn’t stop or slow down when she came making her overstimulated. She let him cum inside her soon after, knowing that she wasn’t on anything.

“I miss you so fucking much,” she wailed when he slipped his dick out of her, his cum following suit and staining the bed beneath her.

Instead of getting a warm towel, Miguel laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms silencing her cries. “I told you baby, I’m right here.” But she doesn’t correct herself. She doesn’t calm down. She grips him for dear life and Miguel grows nervous.

Lyla was wrong…right?

“You know she will never love you the way she loved him. It will never be the same. Miguel...are you listening?”

“Lyla…shut down.”

ending a/n: Heyyyyy, did y'all like it? This will definitely not be my only Miguel fic but rn I don't really have any ideas for him. My brain is filled with thoughts of Hobie, and I need to stop neglecting my baby daddy Toji, lmao. So I'll be working on a real quick Hobie imagine and my AO3 stories as well for now. Unless I think of something else. I've been thinking about requests but I will fuck around and make a whole story from it cuz idk how to stop writing so damn much. Y'all I rly dk if I want to make another part to JFTN I rly like how it ended and I can't rly think about how I would continue it. Y'all might just have to deal idk girl. I love ya though! Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next story!🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

[goatyuuji]

Itafushi my babies! Hope you enjoy them fics! <3

Teenagers Annoy the Living Hell out of Me by LostLoveLetters (M, 11.4k)

In which Sukuna is a reluctant wingman and regrets his life decisions deeply due to one hopeless brat's exasperating pining. AKA a fic in which Sukuna hates slow burn. And existence itself.

that's the spirit! by akaashism (G, 9.2k)

Toji rolled his eyes. "Just tell him how you feel, I didn't raise a coward." "You didn't raise me," Megumi reminded him. Megumi was being haunted. Not by the ghosts of his past but an actual ghost. The spirit of his deceased father. Megumi gets a wingman and a father in one go.

save your love (for someone like me) by ruledbyv3nus (T, 11.4k)

Even though he knows that he isn’t entitled to every detail in Itadori’s life, it irks him to think there is someone that he knows absolutely nothing about. Especially someone, he realizes with a sinking feeling, that is exactly Itadori’s type. What was it he had said to Todo? Tall, dark hair, kind of badass. In other words, exactly like the tall, dark-haired, intimidating looking man who just walked out of Itadori’s dorm room.

No One Gets it Right on the First (Or Second) Try by j_jabbers (T, 12.4k)

5 times Yuuji and Fushiguro's dates go other than planned, and one time where they finally get it right

moments in between by gratsu (G, 1.3k)

Yuuji’s brain feels like it’s sizzled up and died, but Megumi’s lips are a centimetre away from his own and maybe this isn’t so confusing anymore, because he’s closing his eyes and leaning in too, and— “Wait, are you guys fucking gay?” Sukuna. Fuck, he’d forgotten about him.

Wedding Ring Pop by kookiekawa (G, 8.3k)

To which Megumi comes home with a ring pop on his finger and causes Gojo to become the manchild he is.

built your walls around me by alkhale (M, 15.2k)

“You want to ruin him," Sukuna says. Maybe Sukuna isn’t wrong about that, Fushiguro thinks in a daze. Itadori’s heart is too heavy and too precious. It’s a burden that shouldn’t be given to anyone else. Because even Itadori himself can’t take care of it, can’t hold onto it for the life of him because he’d rather become the vessel to the most wretched of all curses just to help two people he’s only known for a few months—to help Fushiguro, who he’d only met that night. (I can keep it. Fushiguro’s hands move. I can hold onto it, if you want.) Or— Some dreams start to keep Fushiguro up at night, and the cure to stopping them might be closer than he thinks.

help me hold onto you by strawberrysuguru (M, 3.7k)

He aches for that closeness, that touch, but he can’t let himself lean forward and take it. Instead, he presses his thigh closer to Yuuji’s, letting the warmth sink into his skin five times megumi touched yuuji

Your Heartbeat is My Comfort by EpicKiya722 (T, 1.2k)

Seeing Yuuji die before had left Megumi needing to feel his heartbeat to know he's alive. It's how he finds peace.

Epistolary of Shadows and Embers: The Red Rain by lunaseleneartem (M, 17.5k)

Megumi, a sharp-witted detective, wielded intellect as his weapon and compassion as his shield. With his own sense of justice, he knew not the depths of love until he crossed paths with Yuuji, a radiant soul shining amidst the grey shadows of existence. Fate weaved their destinies together, connecting their hearts with a celestial thread of unyielding devotion. CW: This has a sad ending

here and where you are by cityboys (T, 17.2k)

It’s in the middle of scanning the last bottle of green tea that Itadori properly looks up. Eye contact with him is a physical, unexpected shock, a crunch of imaginary static snapping through Megumi and leaving his hands twitching at his sides. "Hey." Itadori blinks, wide and earnest. "Do I know you from somewhere?" The tea sloshes backwards in the bottle he’s holding. Megumi focuses on this until his vision steadies. "No," he says. "I don’t think so." In the aftermath, Itadori loses his memories instead of his life. Megumi grieves nonetheless. CW: This also has a sad ending (yeah yeah I love angst)

In Every Lifetime by kat_likes_writing (G, 53.2k, Ongoing)

Megumi is sent on a mission to retrieve Ryomen Sukuna's finger from a high school, which should have been an easy mission. But with his strange dreams intensifying and becoming more vivid, he has a hard time sleeping. It should be an easy mission. He is just not sure why the boy who found the finger seems so familiar. Ps: Everyday I wait for it to update like how a dog waits for his owner to come home, no warnings just wanted to let you know this fic is one of my top faves

Twitch Streamer Yuuji and Youtuber Megumi by kat_likes_writing (G, 43.7k)

Yuuji is a famous Twitch streamer who does streams from his college dorm. Among his fanbase, his huge crush on a random book reviewer on youtube has become a running joke. The fanbase decides to make it their mission to discover who Yuuji's mystery crush is. Megumi has a very small book reviewing channel on Youtube he started in high school. He doesn't even know what Twitch is, but Nobara keeps insisting he needs to help her find this random Twitch Streamer's secret crush. Her reasoning: the secret crush does youtube and reviews books.

[roomsofangel]

I’LL NEVER MISS YOU

(and other lies)

kim hongjoong | written by roomsofangel

pairing ex!hongjoong x reader

genre(s) angst simply just angst

word count 1.2k

warnings hongjoong is just goin thru it guys. ending is up for interpretation and how you want to think he goes on after— nothing but just hongjoong grieving a breakup

i blame empty box for this one guys

hongjoong sat motionless upon his bed, his body merging almost seamlessly with its soft and comfortable embrace. he couldn't be sure how long he had been lying there, lost in thought, but the clock's persistent ticking seemed to echo through his mind like an unbearable metronome. with each passing moment, it felt as though the hands on the clock were taunting him, reminding him of the precious seconds slipping by.

his chest felt unbearably heavy, each breath he took becoming more and more labored. the tightness that gripped his lungs was almost unbearable, and with every gasp, he could feel the tears welling up inside of him, threatening to spill out at any moment. it was as though an invisible weight had settled upon him, pushing down on him with the weight of his emotions, and he could no longer hold back the floodgates.

laying there, staring blankly at the ceiling, he couldn't help but wonder if you were thinking of him too. were you feeling as lost and lonely as he was? did your heart ache as badly as his did for you? questions swirled through his mind like a never-ending tornado, and he longed to be able to ask you all of them, to hear your soothing words and feel your embrace once again.

he could still vividly recall your tear-filled eyes, pleading for him not to leave. the anguish and pain that had been etched on your face as you begged him to stay was burned into his memory, creating a constant source of guilt that haunted him with every passing moment. he knew he was the one who had initiated the break, and every time he thought back to that moment, the weight of his decision grew heavier and heavier upon his shoulders.

in the silence of his lonely room, he couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right choice. the memory of your pleading eyes and the sound of your voice begging him to stay echoed through his mind, like a broken record that refused to remain silent. the weight of guilty conscience was unbearable, and with each passing moment, he struggled to come to terms with the fact that he had the one responsible for breaking the heart of the one he loved so dearly.

he could almost laugh at the irony of it all - that now he was the one left holding onto the memories, the ache in his chest grew more intense with each passing moment. he couldn't help but wonder if you still thought of him, if you still wanted him the way he did you. as he laid there in the solitude of his room, he could only hope that wherever you were, you were happier and at peace. the thought brought some comfort, but it was little solace for the pain that still plagued his heart.

he rolled over onto his side, tightly clutching his pillow as if it were a lifeline. it reminded him of the nights when he would hold you close, feeling your warm body against his and the comfort of your presence. as he held onto the memory, he couldn't help but feel conflicted. he knew it was time to move on, but the thought of letting go and leaving those precious moments behind was almost unbearable. he wondered if he was truly ready to let go and start a new chapter in his life.

lost in thought, trying to find an answer. his heart felt like a heavy stone in his chest, weighing him down and trapping him in a labyrinth of memories and what-ifs. the silence of the room seemed to wrap around him like a suffocating cloak, adding to the overwhelming sense of loneliness that threatened to consume him. he closed his eyes, hoping that he could find some solace in the darkness, but instead, all he saw was your face, haunting him like a ghost from the past.

there was a part of him—a part that he couldn't quite explain—that longed for you to feel as pained as he was in this moment. as if it would somehow bring you closer together again, while another part of him knew that it was wrong - that he shouldn’t wish for you to suffer just so that he could ease his own pain.

despite his conflicted emotions, his love for you was stronger than anything, and all he wanted was for you to find happiness and contentment, even if it meant letting you go. he hoped that, in time, he would be able to forgive himself and move on.

casting a glance over his shoulder, peering out of the window and admiring the tranquil beauty of the moonlit night. the coldness of the air sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but wonder if you were also gazing up at the same starry sky. did you still find comfort in the moon's gentle glow, or had the memory of it been tainted by the pain of your parting?

as he sat up in bed, he couldn't help but feel a hint of nostalgia, recalling the countless nights he spent under the watchful gaze of the moon, holding you tightly in his arms. the memories came flooding back, filling his heart with a bittersweet medley of longing and contentment. he wondered if you ever thought of those moments too, if the memory of your shared nights beneath the stars still held a special place in your heart. the thought both comforted and pained him, as he continued to stare out at the moon and lost himself in contemplation.

he carefully got out of bed, his body moving almost reluctantly as if it was trying to hold on to the comforting warmth of the sheets. as he made his way to his desk in the dimly lit room, the only source of light coming from the small lamp, he reached for a pen and paper, feeling the coolness of the paper against his fingertips. the silence in the room was broken only by the soft scratching of the pen against the paper, the sound echoing softly in the emptiness around him.

he could almost hear your voice, echoing through his mind like a soothing whisper in the quiet night. your words of encouragement, urging him to channel his emotions into something beautiful, still resonated within him. to make that ache into art. he spoke softly to the cold air, knowing you wouldn't hear him, but hoping that somewhere in the universe, you'd somehow know. "i’m making our painful end into something beautiful," he muttered to himself, his words hanging heavy in the air as he continued to write, transforming his aching heart into something worth digesting.

as he finished writing, he found himself blinking back tears he didn't realize were pooling in his eyes. it wasn't until a few tears landed on the paper, smearing the ink slightly, that he was brought back to the present moment. he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper, "i think it's time i let you go." he folded the paper, placing it delicately inside the box that held all the memories of your time together, and closed the lid with bittersweet finality.

if you're feeling the same way, i wish you better than our time together — leave everything behind, hope you come across something more than better

[56thingsinaname]

Guys I had a dream!

So Prompt I guess

Ok so we all know about the explosion of nasty burger, how it killed pretty much everyone Danny ever cared about.

In the twisting of my mind, I saw a vision.

Instead of clockwork making him go fight his future self, he lets it happen for the most part, except only the adults died.

In my dream Jazz wasn’t there for it but afterwards she was grieving and clockwork came.

Oh wait, he also manipulated it so that Danny was at nasty burger too.

So anyways everyone thinks Jack, Maddie, Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Mr. Lancer all died in the explosion.

So Jazz is grieving the deaths of her entire family. And clockwork appears to her and gives her baby danny (deaged, ghost powers sealed, and without his memories at all) telling her to move elsewhere and things will work out.

She’s still grieving(obviously) but she holds onto Danny as her support.

She moves to another city and places her roots.

Vlad thinks Maddie, Jack and Danny are dead. So he isn’t chasing after Danny. But he still extends a hand to Jazz inviting her to stay with him, his hopes are because she’s still Maddie’s child, they can connect about their deaths.

I’m not sure exactly his role in things, but she moves to another city instead.

My dream starts fast forward 14 years. Danny is 14 again, he’s struggling again with homework and school. But he slowly starts regaining his ghost powers.

I think I want his memories to be attached to his ghostly side, because Clockwork didn’t want to erase them entirely and knew that the reminiscent feelings of his life would help direct Danny’s ghost side to good.

So he also starts getting feeling like there should be other people around him that aren’t. And clockwork starts with his sticky notes.

Then while he has a friend over, a giant ghost zone portal opens in the sky. Which the eyeball guys use to descend upon the earth to ‘find Danny’ because they find out that clockwork didn’t actually kill him at the explosion. And they think he’s probably evil.

I kinda want it to be ghost king Danny too, but it doesn’t have to be because it didn’t explicitly say that in my dream.

But he’s with his friend in his rooms, which the friend is unusually chill about the whole thing. Danny is kinda freaking out because “is that an alien invasion?!” “Are aliens really real” he’s excited but a little scared. And yknow residual memories make it so the portals look similar.

Throughout the story he’s trying to connect the dots of these feelings and tidbits of memories but he doesn’t know how to transform into his ghost side, so he can’t fully access his powers or him memories.

But then he looks back down at his desk (it’s against the window, which he’s looking out of to see the portals) and it’s covered in green stick notes and notebooks/journals from his past.

in my dream there was even a model of his room, but I think it’s work better is after seeing the stuff he looks back at his friend and instead he sees Tucker sitting on his bed in his room from before and he rubs his eyes and he’s in his room now again but it’s still Tucker.

And he’s confused because he barely knows who this Tucker should be, but he knows he’s one of his best friends.

Tucker, like the friend is just chilling on the bed on his phone.

And he sees passages in his journal about someone named Sam, and different parents and him calling his sister Jazz annoying.

He recognizes the handwriting as his own. And it all feels true. So he’s reeling.

I woke up at this point :(

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Matt Murdock’s child (Part 4)

Matt Murdock x child!reader

warnings:

a/n: thank you guys so much for waiting patiently for this!!! (except for that one anon who got an attitude with me for not writing this fast enough for them if you’re reading this, learn some manners) anyways, so glad that i finally finished daredevil, now i just gotta push through the last few defenders shows (and catch up on everything else i’ve missed in the past year. haha. fuck.

prompt:

part 1 part 2 part 3

everything was just so shitty.

you had to hold it together and pretend like your dad was just on a very long work trip

it wasn’t like you didn’t plan for this. i mean, you had a dozen notes in his handwriting ready for any occasion, just in case something unexpected happened

to whom it may concern, i have been hired by a client residing in california for an undisclosed amount of time. i will be leaving my child, y/n murdock, in the care of their godfather, franklin nelson. due to my condition, i have granted mr. nelson legal permission to make decisions on y/n’s behalf if i am ever unable to, including this period in time. if you have any questions, please call. matthew murdock.

you read that page over and over again while foggy shuffled around your dad’s apartment, gathering all of your stuff and anything of your dad’s you’d want to hang onto

“you know, marci is fixing up the guest room to be more…you. i think when you see it you’re gonna love it” -foggy

you were half spaced out trying to wrap your head around everything

and you were still so pissed off

it made foggy feel even more guilty

“i got their father killed. if i didn’t bring him that suit, given him my blessing, he’d still be here to raise his kid” -foggy

“you’re being too hard on yourself, foggy bear. the others made it out, he chose to stay. that’s not on you” -marci

“it doesn’t feel like that. i mean, every time i look at y/n i feel like they blame me” -foggy

“blame you? y/n loves you. you’ve always been there for them and they are well aware of that” -marci

you kind of hated karen for a while

i know it’s harsh, but almost every time you saw her, she wanted to give you hope instead of helping you grieve

“maybe he’s still out there somewhere, sweetie” -karen, attempting an embrace

you just wanted her to ditch your old apartment and let you move on with what you had left

on a more lighthearted note, you’d always been welcome in the nelson family

“y/n! honey, come here! lord, foggy, y/n looks like you’ve been starvin’ them!” -foggy’s mom

“aw, no, uncle foggy’s—” -you

“nonsense, dear. theo! fix your lovely [niece/nephew/nibling] a sandwich!” -momma nelson

“mom—” -foggy

“don’t even start, y/n’s in our kitchen now. the nelson meats kitchen”

you always felt best surrounded by all that love

meanwhile, your father laid in the church you grew up with. and no intention of calling you up

“matthew, your child. where are they?” -sister maggie

“they’re safe, safer than they’ve ever been” -matt

you had your days ever since midland circle’s collapse though

some days you could be okay, just getting by. you knew deep down you’d be losing him soon, and you were well prepared

other days were violent fits of rage and sorrow, punching bags and screaming and crying

and a time or two, you’d do it in front of foggy

“he left me! he left me for her and he didn’t even say goodbye! and i’m supposed to forgive him?! fuck him, he chose to do this to me, he’s a piece of shit and he i’m glad he’s gone!” -you, screaming through sobs in the middle of the night

foggy would grab you so tight and wouldn’t let go until you were calm again

and marci would cry to herself as she listened, not fully able to process all of your emotions

but she tried as best as she could, she just didn’t have the deep bond you and foggy did (but she definitely did everything she could for you)

she’d have lil lunch dates with you, just you two

“foggy tells me you got another 100 on your test? that’s always a good thing, especially in a class as tough as that” -marci

“yeah, foggy’s kind of my cheerleader when it comes to that stuff” -you

“any ideas for the day? i could take you to a salon or a game…maybe an arcade or a movie?” -marci

honestly you couldn’t express to her how much she really helped you get through the day

foggy and theo came up with the idea to hire you at the sandwich shop, that way you had something to keep you busy and foggy felt less pressured to help out there

it did help get your mind off things—until little whispers of a familiar vigilante started popping up

the day foggy found out matt was still alive…he wanted to kill him for you

“you’re back! does karen know? oh, matt, y/n’s gonna be so happy, they—they’ve been so down since it all happened—” -foggy

“slow down, foggy. i’m…not actually back. matt murdock, he’s gone” -matt

foggy started to get very frustrated by matt’s explanation

“hold on just a second here, matt. your child—for months on end—has been grieving the loss of their father, wishing they could have him back. i’ve done everything i can to keep that kid afloat, destroyed myself watching them fall apart…and you’re not even gonna consider seeing y/n?” -foggy, beginning to raise his voice and hit the table

“they’re safer without me. just keep them far away from fisk. please.” -matt

foggy didn’t even want to mention it to you. he felt awful keeping secrets from you, but knowing your father was out there and wouldn’t see you? after sacrificing himself for elektra? you’d be a mess

but it didn’t stay secret for long once you and foggy were questioned together by the FBI

you kept cool about it in front of agent nadeem, playing along just right. but once that door closed

“he’s alive?! he’s alive and you just didn’t tell me?! and he met with you, why the hell hasn’t he seen me yet?!” -you, weakly trying to attack foggy as you began to cry, he pulled you in for a hug

“i’m sorry, kid. i’m so sorry. i don’t have a lot of answers right now” -foggy

“where is he? i want to see him” -you

you knew the moment you saw him you’d unleash hell

matt did feel guilty not reuniting with you, you were his only child and you just experienced the same pain he had as a child, but he kept justifying it as “protecting you” much to the sister’s dismay

and plans were hashed not long after, you were left out of them all and put under marci’s care

chinese takeout and a tv show marathon was a great plan until you both picked up your phones, shocked to see an attack going on where your friends and family were supposed to be

you were terrified, but you saw marci terrified, too. you were there for her the same way she always was for you

things blew over, you got out of the house to clear your head

matt went back to the church, still hellbent on ending all this

“matthew…i think you should see y/n. think of all they’ve been through, to see you again would, well, it would be a blessing” -sister maggie

“i have to keep them as far away from this as i can” -matt

“they won’t get too far, being a murdock and all. it’s not just your nature, it’s the name. that name is being thrown around everywhere, maybe you could do the protecting this once” -maggie

“can’t risk it, especially not after this imposter daredevil is on the loose. no morals, no self control, he’s dangerous” -matt

“matthew, what would you do if your father ended up being alive after believing he was gone for so long?” -maggie

that happened to put things into perspective, just the one question

unfortunately he got a bit sidetracked overhearing the prayers of maggie, his mother

but matt couldn’t run or hide from you anymore, couldn’t demand foggy keep you away

so he showed up at foggy’s apartment, knocking on the door gently as he knew you were the only one home

when you looked through the peephole, you saw a battered version of your dad, nothing changes

but you flung that door open so fast and…punched him in the chest a dozen times

“you—piece of shit—motherfucker—how could you?! i hate you! i hate you! selfish asshole!” -you

he let it happen, he thought it’d make you feel better until you wore yourself out

“where the hell were you?” -you, sobbing

“doesn’t matter, i’m here now” -matt

“no, you aren’t. you always have something else come up. always” -you

what an inconvenient time for his phone to ring

you heard the message, you knew he had to be somewhere

that was the first time you felt in the loop in a while, though. hearing the message of where he needed to be. that was all you wanted, was to know what was going on. it was the tiny bit of control you needed

there was nothing glamorous about this life, for sure. the idea of him being out there still made you sick.

fogwell’s gym was the next place you saw him, with agent nadeem and foggy

“really exciting being on fisk’s shitlist, huh?” -you to nadeem, fidgeting with old equipment

“cut it out, y/n” -matt

“what? this isn’t our first time around the block, that’s why we’re hiding here” -you

it’d been a while since you’d been here, you used to hang out cuz “abandoned shit is cool”

you were currently taking your anger and anxiety out on a punching bag, revisiting your old karate lessons from way back when

*while talking testimony with nadeem and foggy* “that is…so distracting. hang on, let me just—” -matt, stopping when his arm was grabbed

“no, they need this. leave it alone” -foggy

matt sighed an nodded, feeling like he was in no place to parent at the moment

karen decided to stand with you and watch

“so…you were right” -you

“you don’t seem too happy about that” -karen

“believe me, wish i could be. but do you recognize him? like, really?” -you

“i…i know. he’s changed. but maybe once this all blows over…i think he’ll go back to himself. be a friend—a dad again” -karen

“sure as hell not to me” -you, scoffing “he’s done picking and choosing when he can be my father. i was always supposed to come first”

karen understood. she knew exactly what you meant and she felt it so deeply, but she wanted for you what she couldn’t have anymore

you hadn’t stopped hitting the punching bag as you talked to her

“can i get it a whirl?” -karen

she got a few good hits in, they were noticed by present company

from there, you stuck with foggy. the least likely of the bunch to get shot!

and court did not go spectacularly either, making you feel just as on edge as before

“y/n, listen, i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. have they ever gotten to you before? no, and it’s gonna stay that way” -matt, cupping your face in his hands to hold as if it were the last, which it was starting to feel that way for the both of you

“you’re not good at promises. you’re gonna leave again” -you, tears beginning to stream down your face

“no, no. well, yeah, for a little bit. it’s fine, y/n, we’re gonna be fine. i love you, okay?” -matt

foggy took you home and you just shut down again. and although there was a LOT of work to do, marci and foggy always made time for you

“y/n, foggy’s making dinner. you wanna help me make dessert? i’m thinking…cupcakes?” -marci

“do we have the good frosting?” -you

“of course, kiddo, i’d never let us run out” -marci, winking

she got a smile out of you and you rushed to the kitchen with her, which lifted both of their spirits of course

but nothing could be calm forever, bodies dropped every minute and you could only wonder “was that my dad?”

and lord help him, he asked for it every day

especially when, after a few more issues arose, he marched straight into the presidential hotel with faux-daredevil

“you…you keep my secret…keep away from my friends…my kid!” -matt

“heh…your kid. ever think they’re gonna follow in your footsteps? you’ll be long gone, i’ll still be here. with them. maybe they’ll be out for revenge, who knows?” -fisk

“you say anything else, vanessa goes down with you. it’s over, fisk. now swear to me, my kid is safe!” -matt

“i swear…just leave vanessa out of it, i’ll leave y/n out of it” -fisk, surrendering

you were watching the news as it happened, stunned, shocked, in awe. it was better than the last time

“foggy let me drink last time they put fisk away” -you

“jesus, weren’t you like, thirteen?” -marci “i mean, now’s fine, that’s about the age i started partying. what the hell? i’ll get the good stuff out. just a little bit though, dont get your hopes up”

(it was like four “little bits” but you weren’t complaining)

you knew it was coming and you acted surprised anyways

“y/n. i am the shittiest dad in the world” -matt

“well aware” -you, arms crossed after he started the conversation that way

“just another chance. i wanna be your dad, i wanna be there for you, you’re like, the best kid anyone could ask for. foggy’s gotta feel pretty lucky having you around” -matt

“last time i gave you another chance to be in my life, you gave it up for elektra. a second time—third if. you count law school” -you

“she’s gone, out of the picture. died under midland circle” -matt, sort of comically waving her off in front of you like he was over it

“yeah? you survived it. and she came back from the dead. how do i know she isn’t gonna pop up out of nowhere again and ruin our relationship again” -you

“i can’t stress enough how little everything matters compared to you right now. i’ll do anything, y/n. i can’t lose you again” -matt

god, you were angry with every word that came out of this mouth. same old spiel. but then again

“i don’t wanna lose you again” -you

matt grinned at you

“i bet you’re smiling back at me” -matt

“you’re on really thin ice, like paper thin. you better cut it out” -you

“that’s fair, i’ll stop…for now” -matt

you did have to go to father lanthom’s funeral, which was a drag. you may not have asked him for as much forgiveness as your dad, but he was still a pretty big part of your life

“hey, y/n. i know i forgot to mention this…but sister maggie? you know her, she’s around. i just found out she’s your grandmother” -matt

“good one” -you, pretending to laugh. matt didn’t laugh though. “you’re not joking? man, you’re telling me that nun is your mom…and you found out when?”

you all went to nelson’s meats afterwards

“so, you make a mean sandwich, i heard” -matt

“im off the clock” -you “and i don’t serve the blind”

“wow, dark! you know that’s discrimination, right? we could take you to court over that. nelson, murdock and page’s first case?” -foggy

“ok, noted. no more blind jokes…is it sound if i don’t serve vigilantes?” -you

“yeah, it’d hold up better in court. having the right to refuse service to anyone” -matt

“hold on, i still can’t get over the fact y/n just said they hate blind people” -karen, nearly snorting

“did not! i’ve only historically hated to blind people…” -you, being stared at for an answer “stick? right, you know?”

“who?” -karen

“alright, can we get back to mourning with nelson’s meats? i mean, we work hard to bury those sorrows in your stomachs” -foggy

“hey! that can be the new slogan!” -you “and your new law firm’s can be ‘we sue teenagers’”

these happened to be your people. no matter what you all went through, you always ended up back here.

BONUS

“can i meet him? spiderman? pleaaaase?” -you

“how many times have we been over this. i didn’t let you meet jessica and i’m not gonna let you meet peter, do you want me to get disbarred?” -matt

BONUS (PT2)

“you’re coming back to new york, right?” -you, over the phone

“of course i am, i told you i just owed a favor to someone out here, i’ll be home soon” -matt

“foggy says that he will take me back if you bail again, and he doesn’t care if i’m legally an adult either” -you

“well, too bad, he can’t have you” -matt

“please don’t tell me you and the she-hulk lady are quote-unquote, ‘friends’” -you

“how do you do that?” -matt

“you’re predictable” -you

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @ipurpleeyou // @nekoannie-chan // @punk-rock-raven // @evilcr0ne // @minxsblog // @v0idl1nq // @sydknee624 // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston //@multifandomfix // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @kik51199 //

[frozenfischer]

scientistredacted

Her touch is instantly grounding, and Gaster exhales slightly in relief. She’s here, and he’s here. He’s not just watching this through the haze of void, not interacting without actually being here. This is real. He wants very much to hold that hand, but he resists that urge, and fidgets with the end of his scarf to keep his hands busy. Left behind. He didn’t even have to actually say it. She just… knew. She has a remarkable way of figuring out how he feels before he could even begin to articulate it. ❝THE LACK OF CLOSURE IN MY LIFE,❞ he mutters bitterly, ❝DIDN’T EXACTLY START WITH THE VOID. THERE’S SO MUCH I’LL NEVER REALLY KNOW ABOUT FROM THE WAR…❞ Then again, did he ever move on past the war? While he managed to recontextualize Alex’s status as a mage to his feelings (he DID know kind mages in the past too; Asgore’s friend and…), and has managed to keep anxiety at work over being surrounded by so many humans to a minimum … has he ever left that tense, frightened mindset it instilled in him? Did he ever stop grieving what was? ❝I DON’T THINK I’M VERY GOOD AT LETTING GO.❞ The hug is a surprise, but one that he returns gratefully and immediately. He tries not to show his disappointment as she quickly pulls back, remarking on how tired he must be. ❝I DON’T KNOW THAT I SLEPT MORE THAN AN HOUR BEFORE…❞ he trails off, ❝I’M NOT REALLY FEELING IT YET THOUGH…GONE MUCH LONGER WITHOUT ANY…❞ He’s not even trying to make excuses this time. He’s still reorienting himself with feeling like this is real, and he’s all too used to being sleep deprived. So whilst he objectively knows he’s in dire need of some rest, it’s not registering for the way he feels. More than rest, more than something to eat, Gaster just wants to hold onto Alex and not let her go until every trace of the way the void makes him feel is gone. He follows her inside, nervously fiddling with his scarf again. ❝I GUESS I SHOULD HAVE JUST WOKEN YOU UP AFTER ALL,❞ he says attempting some levity, but a slight tremble to his voice gives his remaining… whatever this feeling is away, ❝IT WAS A VOID NIGHTMARE; I HADN’T WANTED TO DISTURB YOU, SO I WENT ON A WALK INSTEAD…❞

The returned hug prompted a soft sigh, relief flooding her that she hadn't further upset her friend with the unexpected touch. Then again, with the way he seemed to cling back almost immediately, perhaps it had been more welcomed than she'd feared?

That thought in mind, she offered her hand to Gaster, giving him another concerned frown.

“You haven't talked a lot about the war,” She observed quietly. “Outside of the fact that you were in it, and the fact that you have trauma regarding human mages because of it. Well, and also what happened prior to the war actually breaking out.” Mistral's death, in other words, though she was trying to put it more delicately.

Shaking her head, she glanced side-long at Gaster even as she gently guided him up the porch steps and towards the house. “I always assumed it had to have been pretty traumatic for you, so I didn't want to pry. I'm… I'm sorry that you were forced to endure that kind of thing, though. You didn't deserve it, I'm sure. None of you who lived through it did.”

How could they have, given the Monsters' reputation as being made of love, hope, and compassion?

Sighing, Alex guided Gaster to the living room, instead of dragging him up the stairs like she normally would have. “I know you say you don't feel like sleeping, but you should at least let yourself rest for a bit. I don't want to see you wear yourself out again.“

Her expression softened at Gaster's joke, and on impulse she reached out for another hug. “In that case,” she said even through the embrace, “you officially have my permission to come in and wake me in the future, should you have another nightmare, void or otherwise,” She assured him, giving him a small squeeze. “I promise not to get upset with you if you do. I'd rather be woken up so I can help, than for you to have to suffer alone.”

Caught by the earnestness of her own words, Alex cleared her throat, ignoring the heat rising to her face as she pulled back again. “Is… there anything I can do to help right now, at least?” she asked, hoping to help Gaster get more settled so that getting food and rest hopefully didn't seem so daunting a task.

[softrozene]

“I Thought You Were Dead.” - Charles Smith

From an old event I did called the Sad Yee Haw Hours:

12timetraveler asked: Can I request number 9 with Charles and Female reader for the sad Yee yaw. :)

rdr2 masterlist 

Hahaha hi friend, thank you for this ultimate hurt I had created. I hope you enjoy it, Honey!

Why do I keep hurting my boy like this :’(  

Originally published on June 8, 2020

Charles Smith x Female Reader

Scenario Starter Number 9: “I thought you were dead.”

Warnings: Angst, I have sinned once again for making Charles sad, I keep breaking my own heart lmao

Words: 930

-

“I thought you were dead.”

Charles raises an eyebrow and his heart is racing. He can’t seem to process your words. He is just in shock that you are okay and alive. That he actually found you. His hand that knocked on your door slowly falls to his side. You look as beautiful as the day he left you. His heart can’t stop racing. The smile he contains is spreading throughout his body.

That is until you snap your fingers at him. You look exhausted but more of grief and relief.

“Did you hear me, Mr. Smith?” You question.

His eyebrow remains raised. Why are you acting like a complete stranger to him? He shakes his head and says, “Sorry. I got distracted… What is with the last name-calling?”

You let out a laugh but it sounds more like a sob. “You can’t expect me to be familiar with you after so long. It’s been eight years, Mr. Smith. Eight years. I thought you died with Arthur. John told me he didn’t know where you were that nobody knew where you were or what you were doing. I didn’t know. I waited as long as I could but god, the nights were so lonely. I cried myself to sleep for months. You can’t show up now and expect me to be filled with joy. Not when I had just accepted your death,” You say your voice shaking terribly.

His heart is hurting. He hates seeing you in so much pain and it truly is all his fault. “I… Am so sorry. After I helped Rain Falls and his people move I went back to see if Arthur had made it… He didn’t so I buried him. I spent my time looking for you. I truly did but…”

He gave up. He turned into someone he didn’t recognize and couldn’t dare show you that. Tears are streaming down your face and he wants to so desperately brush them off. The temptation to feel your warm skin touching his is strong and he goes to do it but you take a step back into your home. His face remains void of emotion as his heart starts to feel like a heavyweight is coming onto it.

Charles feels desperation come onto him. He wants to hold you so bad. He needs you to say his name, not his surname. He speaks again.

“Only recently did John and Uncle found me. He told me that you two still kept in touch and after I cleaned up my behavior I came here immediately. I needed to see you with my own eyes. I wanted this to go differently, not in the middle of the night but I couldn’t wait. I love you (Name). I love you more than anything and I am so sorry that you had to live with thinking I was dead. I’m planning on going to Canada soon… I can postpone it so we can become familiar with each other again. I want no one but you in my life,” He states going again to try and brush the tears off your face.

You take another step back and this time show him your left hand. His eyes widen as he spots the medal on your ring finger. He finally understands why you are so distressed right now. He feels guilty immediately for bringing you into this emotional state.

You beg to him. “You… Please don’t do this to me. You can’t touch me as if we’re still together. I loved you… I still love you and it hurts like hell but I can’t let you back into my life. I have a partner and they mean the world to me. They helped me with my grieving. We have kids. I have a family. You can’t do this to me. Why are you doing this to me?”

He can’t. He has the urge to go back in time and never even think of you. He wished he didn’t bring this pain to you at all. Instead, he does what he thinks he should do instead. He ignores you hits as he pulls you into a tight hug. It takes on a few seconds for the fight in you to leave as you are clutching him with all you have.

You’re crying hysterically and he spots a figure in the house checking on you. They are cautious but seem to understand what is going on. A few shaky breaths leave him and he finally asks his question.

“Do they treat you well?”

You nod your head yes.

“I am glad that I found you and I am happy you went after our dream to have a family. I am happy for you. I won’t postpone my trip. I’ll be leaving for Canada soon… Will you call me by my name one last time?”

You are nodding your head again. He can hear his name leave you but it sounds more like a broken sob. He’ll take it. He’ll cherish it. It is his goodbye gift. He places a kiss on the top of your head and pulls away motioning for your partner to come. They do and pull you all the way inside not sparing Charles another glance before shutting the door in his face.

He can hear your crying even with the door closed and it makes his heart want to stop beating. He regrets coming here but at the same time, it was so worth it. One thing that does cross his mind for your sanity is, he should’ve stayed dead.

[amourkive]

CLOSE | JHS

a/n: okay I haven't written angst in a long time, and I wouldn't call this angst just...sad with a happy ending, I mean kinda? you'll see what I mean but, my angst writing is defrosting rn :/ mention of death btw oki. stay gold ⁷ -miri

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/ᐠ• ㅅ •ᐟ\

You had just gotten off the phone with your mother, with devastating news. You knew it was coming up to that point in life, but you had wished you had more time. Losing a family member, especially your parental figure hit a lot harder than you expected.

It took a lot for you to not fall apart on the phone with your mother. You promised to stop by to talk about things, and what the next step was. Then she asked about Hoseok and you had completely forgotten about him.

So now you sat in yours and Hoseok's shared apartment, just overworking your brain over every single thought that you had conducted in your head. You were so caught up in your head, that you hadn't heard the door open or shut close.

"Hey baby, practice was hell today." Hoseok muttered, walking over to you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, running his fingers through your hair. You focused back into reality, standing up, legs moving like jelly as you turned to face him.

"Hobi..." you started, not really knowing how to even bring up such news. He smiled, not seeing your face as he was busy trying to take off the layers of clothes he had. "yes? I'm sorry honey - I'm just really sweat-" "Hobi, my father passed."

The silence was quick to invade, as you watched Hoseok drop a piece of clothing. Without a beat, he was quick to be by your side, holding you in his embrace.

"What? Wh-I'm so sorry for your loss, baby." He muttered against your skull, holding you close, wishing he could take everything you're feeling away. You couldn't do anything but just melt into his embrace, letting yourself let go of the heartbreak you've been feeling since the phonecall.

Even though it was your father, Hoseok had obviously become very close with your parents. Visiting them when he had the chance, with and without you. His and your parents holding date nights together when they were free. Your father was like a second father to Hoseok, and how his heart was feeling from hearing the news, he couldn't imagine how you were feeling.

"Hobi" holding onto him tighter, your chest shuddered as another sob left your lips. You can feel his shaky hands rub your head and back, comforting as best he could. "I know, I know...let it out baby" was all he said, and it made it all that much easier to express your sadness.

It's been a month since then, and it's been a couple weeks since you guys held the funeral for your father. As much as you didn't like it, it was well needed. A closure you didn't think you wanted, but instead needed at the end of it all.

Hoseok watched you as you layed on the couch, picking at your nails. You didn't do much these days, not finding the motivation to do so. It was even hard to just sit and not do anything because then you'd just think a little too much.

But having Hoseok. Amazing, empathetic, Hopeful Hoseok by your side helped a lot. When days got particularly hard, he never pushed. Never got impatient, never tried to quicken your grieving process, gave you space when you asked, invaded your space when you needed.

You knew it was hard on him too. Differently, but still the same in cases. So when he found you crying behind the couch because you wished you could make things easier on him, he just cooed, picking you up from the floor, right into your bedroom, cuddling with you under the duvet.

"you're so cute you know that? Don't worry about me, 'kay? I'm okay, you just....you just focus on you right now, baby. I'll make things easier for you. you can rely on me for now."

You looked at him for a moment before grabbing hold of his face, smiling for what seemed like the first time in a while, "Thank you, hobi...you don't understand how much you've done for me, I appreciate it so much. Especially right now. Thank you for making it easier to wake up, and just function."

He couldn't help but reciprocate your smile. "of course, baby..." he muttered, pulling you closer to him, hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "future's gonna be okay." with a small kiss to your forehead, you both fell into a comfortable silence.

A silence where your thoughts were finally quiet.

[bulbasaursim]

Imagine a scene in All of us are Dead where as all the students were running away, on their way out of the school and to the mountain on episode 9, that instead of Cheong-San seeing his mother and eventually running away and leaving her zombified self behind, he stays.

An alternate universe where when Cheong-San finds his mother, he runs to her. Where he pushes away and beats away all his classmates to keep from harming her. A universe where he cups her face in his hands and stares at the same features of her face that he’s become accustomed to all his life. He analyzes the way that her eyes are bloodshot and her expression is one that he’s never even fathomed her muscles contorting to, but he grounds himself in the way her eyelashes still flutter when she blinks and how the slope of her nose is still the same, lips identical to the one that would kiss his forehead goodnight and jaw that would move with each syllable as she spoke to tell him how loved he was. He stares and he cries, tears dropping from his eyes just as his heart as he tries to comprehend that she will never be the same again. Nothing will ever be the same as it once was. His classmates are calling at him, yelling to continue their tread to the mountain before more zombies than they can handle get closer. They are already fending off enough zombies, any more could mean an end to any hope of escape. Cheong-San only runs their pleas through deaf ears, feet staying planted by his mother as she claws at his body to get closer to get a taste of his blood. She looks like an animal to his classmates watching, but to him, in the center of destruction, she has never looked so beautiful under the light of familiarity. Dae-su has resorted to trying to yank her off and away from him, but Cheong-San only turns her away from the frantic man and delivers him a cruel kick to his stomach, leaving him groaning on the rough asphalt. He turns back to her when he feels her breath on his neck and wraps his arms around her in a tight embrace, stepping forward until her back hits a car so that she is protected from anyone else who tries to take her away, his body shielding her front. She thrashes against him and hisses wildly. He can still hear the sound of bats against zombie flesh and multiple yells of his name around him as he adjusts his arms to hug under hers instead of over to free them. His sobs have tuned harsh and breath ragged as he holds her impossibly closer to him, as if someone would come and take her away, as if he was clinging onto the the last pieces of her, trying to hold and place them back together. He tucks his head into the crevice where her neck and shoulder meet, a warm feeling of nostalgia passing over him in a buzz. His body still remembers this exact action from when he was little, hiding into his mothers neck and sobbing until his tears ran out. Now he finds himself feeling like that same child again, gasping and bawling and so tremendously overwhelmed. When he feels the first gnaw of teeth sinking into his flesh he doesn’t even flinch. His hands ball into fists, gripping the back of her shirt as sob after sob wracks through him.

He ripped off the fabric of his uniform and tied a knot between his mother’s wrist and his own as he felt the first symptoms of his turning. Tight and secure, he made sure of it with all his remaining resolve.

Their bones crack restlessly as they walk through the zombie infested city, classmates long gone towards liberation and grieving his loss. Zombies transform into brainless creatures when the last of their humanity slips away, friends and lovers alike passing by carelessly like they were nothing more than moving objects to each other, but Cheong-San and his mother stay entwined, wrists bound together by their love, and maybe there is hope that exists within the desperate threads of the fabric.

[natasha-in-space]

Hi, hope you are doing well! What are your headcanons of the Choi twins with an s/o who is struggling with the death of a family member?

TW: mention of death

Saeyoung

Saeyoung was always the caretaker between him and his brother. Making sure that Saeran is safe and sound was practically his purpose for as long as he can remember. He can understand the feeling of despair and helplessness that comes with finding out that you can't do anything to help your loved one.

It's... devastating to go through.

He could have sworn his heart broke into a million pieces for you the minute that he found out about your loss. He might panic a little bit at first, but that's only because he's so scared he might say or do something wrong when you're this vulnerable and in desperate need of comfort. He doesn't want you to feel like you're alone during this difficult time of your life.

Everyone deals with grief differently, and it's important to respect that and let the person live through their loss at their own pace. Saeyoung might do his own research to make sure that he doesn't do anything wrong on accident. He's terrified of letting you down like that.

He won't force you to talk about it if you don't want to. And if you do want someone to hear you out, he'll listen quietly and hold your hand as you let everything out through frustrated tears burning through your eyelids. Whatever you may need - he'll do it. It hurts him to see you in so much pain... but he knows that there's nothing he can do to rid you of this grief, no matter how much he wants to. He just needs to be there for you while you grieve at your own pace. And he'll do just that, no matter what.

Saeyoung will make sure that you're never alone. If you do want some personal space, he won't try and go against your wishes, but otherwise, he'll be right by your side almost throughout every minute of your day. He's as caring and gentle as can be, always reminding you that he's there if you need him and immediately pulling you into his arms whenever you sit down next to him. He can't help it. He wants to bring at least some sort of comfort to you, and touch is the only thing that comes to mind.

For Saeyoung, physical touch is his primary way of showing his support.

He'll hold you tight as you break down into tears, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering gentle words of comfort into your hair. And if you're so exhausted from all the tears that you can no longer stand, he'll gently drop down onto the floor with you still in his arms, making sure that you're not hurt, but still holding onto you tightly. He'll never judge you for crying and he will never let you go.

Saeyoung is not good with words, but he tries his best. Nevertheless, he doesn't need to talk most of the times, all of his emotions are written crystal clear in his eyes. You know that he cares, and there's no need for him to say it out loud.

He takes a break from his job at the toy shop to provide you with his full support the first few weeks. He's not a good cook, but he tries his best to learn for you. He even asks Saeran to teach him some recipes while you're sound asleep in your bed. You two always eat together, and it becomes a habit for him to feed you every once in a while. If you don't have the appetite, he won't scold you. Instead, he'll gently coax you into eating at least a few bites, before praising you and letting you rest once more with a single warm kiss on the lips.

"Cry as long as you need, Y/N. Please, don't keep all this pain inside your heart. It's okay, I'm here. I'll always be here." He'll murmur softly against your skin as he kisses your forehead with such tenderness in his movements, it's like he's afraid that he might break you if he moves too fast. His own eyes are brimming with tears as he cups your cheek into the palm of his hand. "I know that there's nothing I can say that would take all of your pain away... So, just remember that you are not alone in this. Please, never forget that. I'll be here though out it all. I promise, my lovely sunshine."

Saeran

Saeran was never really allowed to grieve the death of his mother properly. He feels so incredibly complicated and lost when it comes to her up to this day, and sometimes, these feelings of his get so overwhelming that he has to step away to regain his breath. He doesn't want to talk about it at first, because he feels like there's something inherently wrong with what he feels on the matter.

Is he supposed to feel angry? Upset? Hurt? Is it normal to miss her when she treated him so horribly? Saeyoung doesn't seem to feel the same way... then is it bad that he feels this way?

He's scared of finding out the answers to these questions.

He can see that you're hurting - you're hurting so incredibly deeply - but he feels so lost on what he should say to make you feel better at first. Should he even say anything to begin with? Or is it better of he keeps quiet? He wants to do anything to take that pain away from you, but the bitter truth is that he simply can't. It takes him a while to come to terms with that. Seeing you so distraught brings tears to his eyes, which is why he'll almost always cry with you. He can't help but remember his own hurt that he never got to process fully, making this process that much more personal for him.

Of course, that's something that he'll work on in therapy soon after. Maybe, he'll bring up the idea of going to therapy together, if you feel comfortable with that. Saeran will be right by your side throughout every step of the way, through both good days and the bad. The most important thing for him is to make sure that you know that he'll never judge you for anything. At first, he'll take on all of the house chores onto himself, letting you know that all you need to do is rest and not rush yourself. Though, after some time has passed, he'll make sure that you won't stay inside all the time. Even if it's only for a few minutes at the time, he'll make it a routine to bring you out onto the front porch and let you breathe in some fresh air every once in a while.

He won't rush you.

Saeran is a highly empathetic person, so a lot of the times, you don't even have to say that something is wrong, he just knows it. He's hesitant to touch you at first, too scared of messing up and doing something wrong, but once you lean into him, he'll hold you tight until the very end. It's messy and it's not pretty. Both of your faces are red and puffy by the time you stop crying, but that's okay. You are not alone in this.

By the time you feel like all of your tears have long subsided, Saeran will make sure that you're all taken care of. He'll offer you some tissues with a tired and yet oh, such a tender smile adorning his face as he leaves one soft kiss on the damp skin of your cheek. He helps you get yourself all cleaned up and runs a warm bubbly bath for you soon after. Whether you want to share it or not is all up to you. The most important thing for him is to let you know that he's ready to do whatever you need him to do for you.

"I know you're hurt... I'm so sorry that you have to go through something so painful, my love. It must be so, so hard for you right now..." Saeran sniffles softly, wiping at his own damp eyes as he slowly pulls away from you only to rest his forehead against your own, letting his hand run through your disheveled hair as gently as he possible can. "Let me share your pain, Y/N. Whatever you may need, I'll do it. I'm always right here for you if you need me... If you want to cry, we can cry together. If you want to scream, let me be the listener to what your heart longs to rid of. And... if you just want someone to hold you close... know that I'll always be here, holding you, just like I do now. I love you."

[theoncomingdoo-dah]

I've had this story idea called All That Ever Could Be in my mind for awhile.

Ya know

All that is, all that was, all that ever could be?

Yeah like that.

Basically it's a story that takes place after Journeys End where Rose and James (I don't call him John in this story. For reasons) begin their lives together. And Rose continues to have dreams (and nightmares) about her past and what she can only think as her future.

All the while, she and James are figuring out how to live together, what they are to each other and all that.

But, two things put a damper on this.

After Rose finally comes to the realization that this is her life now and how she and James are together and are going to be together (and that there's no way to go back). They get closer.

Get married.

And eventually try to have a child.

But it doesn't work. They end up finding out that James is infertile. And what's more,

he's dying.

(this was inspired by flash cloning from Halo. Basically clones that are made super quick and eventually disintegrate. I mean, the metacrisis was made super quick too, ya know?)

And while all this is happening, Rose starts to notice that she doesn't look different from pictures that were taken in the past. She had already had suspicions but now they're being confirmed.

She's frozen in time and her husband is dying.

She remembers the line she was told so long ago.

You can grow old with me, but I can't grow old with you.

Cruel irony.

But none of that matters. She has limited time with James and she wants to make it count. She can worry about herself later.

Their last days together fly past. And eventually he tells her one night that he feels that this is the end. Rose understands (she's already grieved his loss and was as ready as she could be).

"I wanted to say I'm sorry." He says. "I know this isn't what you wanted."

Rose doesn't respond. She just smiles and holds his hand. The sick part of it all is that he's speaking the truth. No matter how brutal it is.

Rose was always settling for what she could have. From before she met the Doctor till now.

"I love you." She speaks softly and James smiles.

"I love you too. Thank you for everything."

He's gone that morning.

50 years has passed. Rose is alone. Never remarried and for the most part just keeps to herself. She's not depressed but she definitely ambivalent. Her family is gone. She hasn't bothered making new friends. 

One day, she notices something whilst walking down the street. A blue box. 

But she's so far gone, she doesn't even bother getting her hopes up. She does exactly what any human would do in that situation, just walk past. Ignore it. If she still wore her TARDIS key, it would've glowed hot but it's been long forgotten in a cupboard somewhere.

Continues down the pavement. Notices something else. A man. A man in a brown leather  jacket. That almost peaks her interest but she shrugs it off. Coincidence. Obviously.

Little does she notice, the man notices her. And starts following her. He catches up to her finally in a dead end alley way. She's terrified, even when he calls out her name and she recognizes his voice. But it can't be. It isn't. 

This is bad dream, she figures. 

He moves closer and closer, and before she knows it, he has his arms around her. And it clicks. Its him. 

He seems overjoyed to see her, almost teary eyed. She's so confused...and so tired. He gazes back her, expecting excitement as well. But there's nothing. There's barely any life left in Rose's eyes. 

She follows him back to his TARDIS, holding onto his hand limply. 

When they return, explanations are given. First, from him. 

He was on the Gamestation. Rose recognized the memory...it seemed like so long ago. But in her time, she refused to give in and came back and saved him...and killed him. 

But in his time, something happened to her. And instead of staying at the Gamestation, he ran, like he always did. Nothing was holding him there, and he was so shaken he just didn't care. 

And somehow he ended here. 

He asked Rose what had happened to her but she shrugged him off. Saying it was nice to see him but she really should head home. 

She knew that even though he was here, that didn't change anything. He would leave her again. 

But he holds her back. Asking her if she was sure. He's desperate. He obviously doesn't want her to leave. And he asks her to come with him. 

Like a switch being flipped, the light returns to Rose's eyes, and she breaks down in tears. They're happy and sad, she can't stop them from flowing. She holds him, crying into his shoulder. Loud sobbing coming from her. He has no idea how much she's been through and she can't begin to even talk about it. 

So he doesn't make her, instead connecting to her thoughts. Opening all the doors in her mind, seeing all their adventures that he hasn't lived through yet. Seeing himself leave her for the first time, then leave her again for a second time, so convinced he was giving her a happy ending. 

All the times they spent together before his metacrisis self passed on. 

And then just loneliness. Seeing Jackie and Pete in their last days. Seeing Rose say goodbye to her younger brother and never bother to reach out again. Barely any life.

When he breaks contact, he's panting. Tears streaming down his cheeks too now, seeing all the pain he put her through and the life she had to live. And the fact that she was doomed to it. He wonders if his Rose would have done something so drastic to get back to him, if she would've had the chance. And he's furious with the man he would've became.  

He apologizes. He feels awful that Rose is doomed to this life. But she doesn't seem fazed. 

"He told me once, er, you told me once, that I could grow old with you but you couldn't grow old with me. But that doesn't matter anymore, does it? We could grow old together, if you'd have me." 

 

He nods, pulls her in again. Holds her tight. They kiss. Make up, yadda yadda. 

When they finally get a moments rest, he mentions that he has alot to make up for. Considering all she's been through. She smiles and reminds him that he has all the time in the universe to make it up to her.

[hadaad]

@dodgedabullet said :[ scar ] sender sees one of receiver's scars for the first time and gently kisses it (YOU KNIOW WHICH ONE)

They had argued the entire way to the car, muttered good natured teasings down the hospital hall and into the elevator, a steady stream of words that had no purpose other than distracting him from the way his heart had begun to pound against his ribs... and Zaf had been grateful for it, grateful for the hand that had found its way to rest on one thigh, a steady pressure with clear intent - you're not alone. He holds onto it, fixes those words firmly in mind as he limps his way through the door, one arm slung over his boyfriends shoulders in a half hearted attempt to keep his balance .. holds on to that promise as a heaviness settles about his neck and shoulders. Brown eyes take in the flat - exactly the same but different all at once - and when the older man studies him with a searching gaze, he offers a soft smile and some cliche like it's good to be back and is thankful that Adam pretends to believe it.

The stairs are steeper than he remembered, each careful placement of a foot sends a shockwave up knees that had once skipped upwards, three steps at a time... and Zaf wonders how long his body will carry the memory of what happened, wonders when muscle and bone will stop grieving, wonders if he will ever stop feeling like a ghost walking beneath a far too bright sun. Adam encourages him every moment, helps him to sit on the edge of bed and vanishes, returning once more with a glass of water that is meant to be a reward for a job well done .. but it taste like dirt and mud, is nothing but grit that coats his tongue. Zaf chokes, an uneasy inhale, torn between drinking it because he knows Adam is trying, oh he's trying, and throwing it against the wall because all he can remember is burying his face in wet earth, an incessant drip of an endless rain until the salt from his eyes and the water from above blended together in a mud that cracked and bloody lips had slurped at eagerly. All he can manage is a small shake of his head, a silent language that the older man understands just as easily as he has anything that passes between them, and the feeling of the fingers that slip between his own, entangling themselves with a soft grip, is far more quenching than any drink could ever hope to be.

Later, he stands in front of the bathroom mirror, brown eyes taking in the reflection that watches him just as intently from the other side and tries to pretend he doesn't notice the way his legs threaten to give way beneath him. It's easy to forget now that he's home, easy to remind himself that it was nothing short of a nightmare that still visits every now and then in the dead of night... but the map of lingering scars that now decorate his limbs is proof otherwise, and he feels the leaden weight of the boulder in his middle give way to an acid burn that gathers somewhere along the back of his throat. Fingers tug at the hem of his shirt, gentle in their removal, and eyes close against the cool air that suddenly envelops a lean torso. He feels Adam shift, moving around in front of him - he can feel him there, like always. like he's got some sort of Adam Carter radar that sends shocks of attention through his nerves, hair standing up on end along the sensitive skin of his arm- and Zaf half expects the brush of a kiss, or a gentle stroke through dark hair. Instead, hands grip his waist, thumbs brushing the edge of denim where it rests against smooth skin. It's enough to cause him to balk slightly, but before he can voice his unease, before he can get his palm to press against the other man's chest in an effort to put distance between them, he feels lips press against the ridge of scar tissue that now decorates his abdomen. He feels that sharp sting again, feels his head hit the leaves of the forest floor, feels the way his heart had threatened to leap out of his mouth.. but then he feels another kiss, the soft language of his lover calling him back home, and he feels a different sting .. this one entirely wanted.

In the shower, standing under the warmth while his boyfriend's hands massage soap into his hair as if he's just as determined to erase any memories that linger upon skin, Zaf feels salt and water blend once more... but Adam tastes far better than mud ever could, and he devours him hungrily, letting the press of their mouths against one another be its own kind of baptism. When fingers trace a ticklish touch over the ridged scar once more, chasing the beads of water that fall across it, the former agent smiles in response... and the grin he gets in return makes all of it worth it.

[taegularities]

Omg the first scene w the door😭😭😭 how jk felt her presence just proves how strong their connection is, it was so sad seeing how bad oc needed closure even though she knew she couldn’t handle it

“If you’d stayed just a little longer, you would’ve realised that his heart beats in unison with yours. That he felt a glimpse of your presence straight from the hallway, too, opening without you even brushing the cold of the door.”

I’m crying😭😭😭

I feel like the jk kitchen scene where he reminisces how oc made his place feel like home and now it’s just a big empty reminder of what went between them like this line broke me💔 🤦🏾💔:

“His thoughts operate in a spinning circle, and its inevitable beginning and ending is always you.”

It’s so sad seeing oc’s mental health deteriorate so fast and this horrible hole she’s put herself in where’s she’s constantly thinking abt him and the messages. I feel like jk was always a man of actions rather than words, so even though he didn’t say much he always showed her how he felt, but bc they couldn’t see each other really bc of the pap, the text messages are all she really had to hold onto and him never replying to her knowing they couldn’t see each other for a while💔💔

Jk’s birthday😣😣 can’t believe they’re gonna have to spend it apart

I wonder if their friends know more abt jk than oc in the sense of how he deals w situations bc first oc mentioned that jimin told her to find distractions instead of dwelling on the situation and Eun says she doesn’t want to give unnecessary hope, but she knows jk loves her. Do they know (or just assume) that jk may just never try to open up fully to oc, so it’s better for her to grieve, move on, rather than just hope jk might come around and explain himself? Idk if I’m expressing myself right, but it just made me wonder

“But no suffering is endless.”

Eun is such a great friend I love her 🫂

Oc really portrays how it is to live in a toxic household for most people, minus the fashion designing business mogul🙄, but you can see how much she hates being in her house and how small her parents make her feel, but at the same time she doesn’t want to completely shut them out and cut contact bc she’s aware they’ve done much for her and doesn’t want to show that’s she’s not grateful for what they have

I have a strong feeling jks painting is going to convey his feelings abt oc or portray their relationship, but I wonder what it could be🤭 they have so many sentiments, I wonder what’d he paint to encapsulate their relationship

Zara is like the older sister Oc needs in her life omg I love her❤️❤️❤️ it’s really that tough love that can get ppl to open their eyes and really see. I wonder why oc has never seriously considered moving out of her parents house, I know she’s thought abt it, but she really had the means, and maybe the issue is a lot of her money is her parents money, but like Zara said, she can find a job somewhere small and nice and she’ll make her own income and not have to worry abt depending on them anymore.

🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

“To which he shook his head, clicking his tongue before he said, “Nothing. I just like how easy it is to bring you joy.”

It has literally become my favorite jk quote ever omg my heart

“Inch by inch, he pushed into you, telling you, “Take whatever you want, angel. It’s yours

NVMMMM WE HAVE A STRONG CONTENDER

Also the whole situation of how yoongi broke his leg has me screaming 😭 he’s literally always in his phone honestly

But this🥲

“You don’t know when it happens, but at some point, immersing yourself in their talks becomes easier. You keep drawing dozens of little things on his cast, and he never complains”

Reminds me of when she doodled on jks arm🥲

It being so awkward between them really broke me bc I forget there could ever be a moment where they’re not head over heels in love💔

Hoseok was so charming in his scenes idk🤭 I’m kind of falling for him:

“His eyes are nearly squinted shut, tiny dimples near each corner of his rosy lips. He has a reputation of casting light through gloomy clouds, and right now, you can’t help but agree.”

Likeeeeee he really is the sunshine of this cloudy day…week…2 weeks

“Hoseok angles his head… and then says, “Just. I’ve been thinking of you a lot these days.””

STOPPPPPPPP WHY AM I GETTING BUTTERFLIES?!!?!! IM REALLY TEAM JK&OC I SWEAR😭 maybe he didn’t even mean it like that

“Eun, a never-faltering jokester, adds her two cents, cocking an eyebrow as she intrudes, “Or you were hiding something bigger.

Yeah

Of course she knows.

You just didn’t think she’d mention it. A serious conversation will explode between you when you’re alone with her again. For now, your clenched jaw and fiery glare must suffice.”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 WHAT DID I MISS

“You keep your smile on, but you feel it weaken. Hoseok is really trying. Wants to fix you, wants to be there… as he used to wish.”

🥲🥲🥲🥲 they really do share a past, I am eager to learn more

“I want you to be happy. You can’t be that with me.”

Jk is so sweet, but so dumb omg💔

“You sob into the kiss, and he breaks apart from you just briefly.

My heart is shattered and I don’t think it can be repaired. #rip⭐️

“He tells you, “Because I don’t belong to your world. My plans for the future, my life, none of it will ever be good enough for you or for your surroundings.”

Her parents words really stuck w him. I feel like it obviously affected him more than he wanted to let on that he genuinely thinks he’s not good enough for her, i remember when he used to tell everyone she’s way cooler than how the articles present her and she’s not like her family in anyway💔

I love jk but he really should’ve left her alone when she ran out😭😭 I mean I expected him to follow her, but the kiss. I feel like it did more damage than anything and will only cause an even bigger rift between them, then was there before

I wrote half of these at 3am while delirious so if they don’t make sense my apologies, but this was such a good read

I’m so sorry for the long review, but I really love this series and felt the need to document my feelings along the way

I really loved reading and can’t wait for what’s yet to come 🤭

-⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

STAR, MY BELOVED !!!! oh my god, this huge ass review? i don't know what i did to deserve you, but... *rips out heart* please take this, okay?

you're actually one of very few who mentioned the first scene! the way they felt each other's presence? do we really need further proof that they're actual soulmates? :( same goes for the kitchen scene. don't think anyone mentioned the feeling of emptiness in it, so i'm grateful that you talked about those details 🥺

and yeah.. tbh, i wrote oc' feelings thinking about my last relationship? and how it felt fighting my way through the break up. it's almost ridiculous how fast your mental health gives up on you and how every moment spent awake just... ugh, idk, is torture, kind of? which is what our baby is going through now. you're so right, he's definitely a man of actions, and the fact that she can't see or touch him anymore makes her more miserable. bc the ultimate proximity is gone...

jk's birthday !! oh my god, i'm so scared to get to this part bc 💔 a lot of little things are gonna happen and come together to Big Sadness. and the bit about their friends knowing more than they're saying? a very very interesting theory. i'm not gonna say much, but yes, definitely keep in mind that both friend groups are deeply intertwined (taeun/yoonmin...) 🤐

i love eun, too, we don't talk about her a lot, so yesss! 🥺

ahhh star, you've absolutely understood why she's not moving out yet. yes, she hates being there, but it's hard for her to leave everything behind after kind of being trained to follow her parents' footsteps? so breaking out of it is hard, but i hope she still does. toxic households aren't very yay 🥲

jk's painting... what could it be indeed ehehehe

and zara, i love her fr, bc i absolutely think as well that oc needs some tough love and someone to speak to her without sugarcoating anything. oc has definitely considered moving out! but didn't cos of the reasons stated above... but maybe something's finally gonna happen now :')

hahaha the favourite jk quotes 😭 AND YEAH YOONGI IS HAHAHA he's always on his phone so this was a little homage to it 🤣

you remembered her doodling on his arm? star, you really do have my heart 🥺

your reactions to hobi though 🤣 also.. you didn't miss anything 👀 maybe things still need to be revealed 👀 who knows 👀

the #rip⭐️ had me SCREAMING LMFAOOO you're so funny </3

so true, so true. her parents words stuck with him, which is a big reason for *gestures* all this. a big big reason for his stubbornness. and he still knows that she's not like her family, like.. he genuinely puts her on a pedestal and thinks super highly of her (you'll see in 7.5), but he just.. ugh he needs to open up more, that's it.

it's no issue at all that you wrote this at 3am, all your thoughts were probably still more coherent than mine in this very response, so don't worry at all 🥺 i'm just so fkn thankful that you reached out at all... i honestly do not take such a long and thoughtful review for granted, so :( i can't tell you how hard this made me smile.

thank you so much, star. i appreciate tf out of you, you don't even know 🤍

[annieintheaair]

Another aeroplane, another sunny place, I'm lucky, I know, but I wanna go home.

They say you can’t go home again, but that’s not always true.

Takeoffs and landings are like beginnings and endings. Maybe you’re going on a fun trip and you’re really excited. You touch down at your destination and it’s filled with so much promise. Maybe that destination is home, where you grew up. You don’t want to move back but you’re so excited to be there with your family and things you love back there. When the trip ends, you head home and you land there, partially sad that your trip is over but also super excited to be at your home.

I’ve felt a lot of conflicting emotions over the last few months. One minute I’m excited and motivated to pack boxes and the next I’m sobbing because even though I knew this time was coming, in the process it took a lot of time to get to this point. At times, it almost didn’t feel real. Some days I couldn't wait to move and others, I'm home crying because I love my house so much.

I’m looking forward to moving back to my old neighborhood but also feeling really sad and somewhat disappointed that this “new life” I was trying out didn’t work out as I had hoped. Maybe that’s partially my fault but I felt like I really did try and I did find things I love on this side of the metroplex, just not enough to stay. Sometimes I feel like I don’t really belong anywhere. I’m so nervous about making the wrong decision that I’ve put off making any decision at all these last few months. Since part of me feels like I made the wrong choice to move out here last year, part of me also doesn’t trust my decisions anymore. What if I make the wrong choice again?

I’m trying to think of the positives. I’m looking forward to being back at the pool with my neighbors and walking my dogs on our favorite trails. I’m excited for my commute to work to be shorter again and to have less stress about my job and my dogs, knowing that my dog sitter is nearby. I’m excited to be able to go to church again on the weekends instead of watching from my TV at home or watching on a screen at a church nearby. Lots of my favorite restaurants are there too, and most of all, I’m excited to be back closer to friends.

I think this year has changed me in a lot of ways. I don’t feel like the person I was when I moved out here 14 months ago. Since being here, I’ve gotten back into sewing because activities locally were so limited. I’ve learned to go to restaurants and wineries alone and even just be ok with being alone at home often. I even ventured out to doing hot yoga and while I don’t love it, I will miss the instructors and their classes.

I’ve seen three different therapists since I’ve been in this town and worked through some parts of me that I’ve struggled to deal with for years. I’ve learned that in order to heal from grief, you have to allow yourself to feel grief. I’ve grieved in many ways this year— grief for my old life, grief for the car that flooded, grief for losing Dan, and grief for the life I thought I was running towards. I have really learned how to be ok alone and process my grief, and even though it can be really sad, it’s also a really good thing.

I guess part of me is sad to be moving back to my old neighborhood all alone. I remember moving into my first Texas apartment, thinking that would be my last “single girl” apartment. I’m now laughing at 25 year old me who lived in three Texas apartments and now going on three houses. I’m not at all where I thought I’d be nearly ten years ago.

Grief changes you— it makes you appreciate everything more; it makes you want to hold onto things instead of letting go or risking losing them. Grief breaks you apart and allows you to find a new way to put yourself back together again. Grief shows you what is really important.

In the process of preparing for this move, I’ve had a lot of friends, primarily from work, offer to help me. This year, especially the last few months, allowed me to actually form good friendships at work. My focus really shifted this year and changed how I felt about going to work.

I started writing this post while I was at work on Friday night and my eyes couldn't help but water with emotion. I barely slept all night at the hotel because I was so nervous and anxious.

When I got home from work Saturday morning, I knew I needed to load up the car and head out to my new place to sign my lease and get my keys but I was literally sick to my stomach, feeling super nauseous. I didn't know if I was hungry or just nervous. I laid on my bedroom floor, tears in my eyes once again, worried about my decision. I nearly texted my new landlord to back out of the whole thing but instead texted her to see if we could meet later in the afternoon and luckily, she was flexible.

I ended up slowly loading up my car and around 11:30am, I headed out with my dogs. Since we were in the area super early, we walked around the Fresh Market and I got a Greek frappe. I still had time after that so I met Matt at Katy Trail Ice House. We hung out there until nearly 4pm when we went over to meet my new landlords.

I signed my lease, got my keys, and then Matt had to leave for a bit so I quickly changed into my swimsuit and ran out my backdoor to meet my neighbors and Marx at the pool. We stayed there for a few hours, drinking and catching up, and eventually went back to their house to dance, play beer pong, and just hang out. By the time I headed back home, it was maybe around 2am and Matt came back to hang out for a bit before I finally went upstairs to bed around 4:30am and laid down by 5 after taking a shower. My air mattress had a hole so it kept deflating and I'd wake up about every 30min., flat on the floor, needing to reinflate it. I didn't get a very good quality of sleep.

Around 10am, I woke up, took some Advil, and went back to sleep until noon. It was a rainy morning so it was nice to be inside and lazy. I got ready and went to the dog store to find something to relieve Ellie's car anxiety. I stopped at Clean Juice for a smoothie and breakfast wrap. When I got back to the house, I did some work for my other job and then met my neighbors and Marx at Union Bear for lunch. We ended up going to see Twisters and by the time that was over, it was around 9pm and I ran back to the house to pick up the dogs and head back to my other house. That long drive is miserable at night, especially when you're tired.

Coming home, after this weekend, I still have so many conflicting feelings. I had a really great weekend back in my old neighborhood with my old neighbors and felt at home again but I wish my mom would stop questioning my decisions and acting like she's always disappointed in me. I can't help all of the guilt I feel about having let them buy this house and moving out here in the first place but I have had a really lonely year and deep down, I know I need to do what's best for me. After struggling with my depression 14 years ago, I always get really worried whenever I start to feel overly sad. I never want to be in that place again and I wish that was a concern for other people as well. My goal is to never go back down that path again because it was the ultimate low point in my life. When I feel like I'm slipping, I know I need to do whatever I can to get back on track.

I'm still praying that I made the right choice but this weekend gave me a lot of reassurance that it's going to be okay and I can be happy again.

xoxo

Annie