#ill like get back to you on it Eventually. maybe today. tomorrow. end of the week maybe. shrug

[vampire-cookie]

i just felt like i should talk to my mutuals more often but i am not sure how. i hope u got many nice fishes

felt that one for REAAAL

[suashii]

— 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑔𝑒𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝒶𝓂𝓊 ౨ৎ

miya osamu x reader. 0.7k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ papa!osamuﾉ reader is referred to as mom ﾉ repost!

a/n: father's day drabbled #3! kuroo's version and atsumu's version are available to read :3 suna tomorrow!

“dad, odie got mr. stuffins.” at the voice, osamu looks down beside him as he turns off the faucet to the kitchen sink. your daughter stands with her hands held out, her favorite stuffed animal nearly in tatters. the fabric is torn open by the threads, exposing the fluffy stuffing. and the offender is nowhere to be found.

“oh no. how about i hold onto him until mom gets home to patch him up?” osamu leans down to her level after drying off his hands.

“nuh-uh. he needs surgery right away!” the girl thrusts the damaged bear into his chest.

“i know, baby. i just don’t want to ruin your toy.” well, ruin it beyond its already ruined state. despite the stuffed bear already being torn apart, osamu’s sure that if he gets his hands on it, it might just end up looking worse. it’s more than likely that your daughter is already harboring ill feelings for the poor family dog and osamu doesn’t want to be next.

“daaad, you gotta fix him now. please?” she sticks out her bottom lip in a pout, fat tears pooling in her dark eyes. osamu swears he can hear a little sniffle.

how can he say no to that face?

“okay, okay. i’ll see what i can do.”

maybe it wasn’t the best idea for osamu to offer his services so hastily. even after several youtube tutorials, he still isn’t completely confident in his abilities to mend the broken. before now, he’s never had any reason to learn to sew. to make things worse, a whole piece of the fuzzy material is nowhere to be found. at this rate, even if the tutorials were of any help, he still wouldn’t be able to sew mr. stuffins back together.

but he’ll make this work—for her.

that’s how osamu ends up cutting up an old pair of his pajama pants to stitch your daughter’s beloved toy back together. it takes longer than he imagined it would to fit all the stuffing back into the bear and he poked himself with the needle more times than he could count, but, eventually, the task is done. the plushie is in considerably better shape than when it was brought to him, but it’s far from the bear your daughter knew.

after building up the courage to present the new and somewhat improved teddy to your daughter, osamu makes his way back into the living room where the girl sits coloring at the coffee table. upon hearing her father’s footsteps, the girl drops her crayons and runs to his feet. she looks up to him with expectant eyes.

“dad tried his best, but mr. stuffins looks really different,” osamu admits. it probably won’t be much help—the warning, that is, but he wants to prepare her for the very unfamiliar version of her old friend.

she bounces on the balls of her feet, excited for the fated reunion.

“if you don’t like it, i’ll buy you a new one.” he finally pulls the bear from behind his back, presenting it to the little girl. she quickly grabs it, eyes silently taking in all of the changes to her toy. osamu waits for a reaction. he never thought he’d be one to seek his kid’s approval, but today seems to be full of surprises. this moment is more nerve-wracking than any volleyball game he’d played in high school.

“so…” osamu starts, not able to wait any longer. he’s feeling just as impatient as her now. “how’d i do?”

“mr. stuffins is wearing your clothes,” she giggles, running her little fingers over the recognizable flannel patch. the tiny smile on her face and the absence of disappointed cries must be a sign that he’d done something right, but osamu wants to know for sure.

“you like it, then?”

“mhm, i can’t wait to show mom!” she hurries back to her place at the coffee table, surely excited to update mr. stuffins on everything he missed while he was undergoing his operation. thinking better, she stops in her tracks. the girl turns on her heel to make her way back to osamu. she wraps her arms around his leg in a hug, the bear trapped between her body and osamu’s limb. 

“thank you, dad!”

he sets a hand on the top of her head, ruffling the strands of hair. “you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[turcott3]

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

-

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

-

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

-

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

-

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

-

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

-

[theewokingdead]

I have had this idea for a long-lost love refound fic with Joel Miller swimming around in my head for a while, but I don't think I'll ever get in the headspace to write it. So enjoy what I wish I could write and hope someone will steal. Warning: mention of pregnancy in the beginning.

Imagine it's September 26, 2013. You've been dating Joel for a while and, oops, you're pregnant. You're a flurry of emotions and have no idea how or when you're going to tell him. He calls you late that night, on his way home from a hellish day at the jobsite, telling you about the prick of a contractor he's been dealing with and can't risk losing his job. When he asks if you've checked in on Sarah you tell him that she's fine and you're sorry you were feeling too ill to stay with her today. When he inquires further about your illness, you opt not to say anything, not like this, not when he's had a shit day, and instead feign that everything is okay and you'll be fine. The call is interrupted by Tommy, and you insist Joel answer his call. He offers to call you back, but you tell him to go home and get some rest, that you'll hopefully see him tomorrow.

Of course, several hours later, all hell breaks loose. You manage to get a call through to Joel, telling you to stay put, that he'll come for you, then you lose connection. Joel never finds you, but you never lose hope.

Two decades later, you're living in Jackson, having crossed paths with Tommy a year earlier when he returned to Texas, where you never strayed far from. You overhear the talk - that Tommy Miller's brother is in town - but bandits attack before you can find the source of the rumor. Later, you find Tommy as he puts a horse away in the stable, and you question if it's true, that Joel is here, and he reluctantly tells you he was. You ask if he told Joel that you're here and he says that he did. Your heart sinks - of course he wouldn't still love you after all these years, but why wouldn't he at least want to see you before he left? You ask if he told Joel about your daughter - his daughter - and Tommy says no, that it shouldn't come from his mouth. You're furious, thinking maybe Joel would've stayed in town if he had known that he has a daughter. You let Tommy have it, and eventually he tells you why Joel was in town and why he left, about Ellie and the hope to find a cure. Finally, you come to your senses, realizing there are far more important matters, and try to move on from dreaming about having a little family with a man you never stopped loving.

Months later, you're walking around town when you run into Joel. There are a million different ways the reunion could go. How would you tell him about your shared daughter? How would he feel? Would he be pissed at Tommy for knowing and not telling him when he first came to Jackson? Would he be angry you didn't tell him that night when he called, before the Outbreak? Would he have done anything differently that night had he known - things that could've changed the trajectory of his entire life? Would he wonder if it would have kept you guys together as a family? Would he wonder if it would have even kept Sarah from suffering the fate she suffered? Would he blame you for it? I just imagine it would be one big emotional reunion. How would it end? I don't know. I just love a good re-found love fic - be it happy or sad. I love angst. I love an emotional Joel. It could be fun. But I'll never get around to writing it so let's just pretend I did 😭

[oddishfeeling]

i was in the worst mood ever earlier today for no apparent reason really.... so i just took my lil ass over to the gym n walked on a difficult incline for 30 min. that helped. i started a new book on there too. as i was leaving the gym and almost to my car, a girl going in the opposite direction of me said "yay you did it! u went to the gym on a sunday!" lol. it was nice actually bc it was empty.

afterwards, i went to ulta. bought cute headbands, scrunchies, a hydrating mask. n a bunch of other things lol. then i went to 5 below. i was looking for a beauty fan but the place was ransacked. ended up getting two silly t-shirts instead. then i decided it was a spaghetti n meatballs sort of night so i went to pick up the stuff we needed plus a salad kit, some wine, a focaccia. i came home n had my salad, did some homework, and now im about to start making dinner. maybe ill pour myself a small glass of this sauvignon blanc to help with the dinner prep. idk why i get pent up energy/aggression but im thankful for my gym membership to help with the release. also tackled a massive amount of laundry this weekend too. it just had to be done. only now, i dont think we have space for all this clean clothes.

i have about 8 topics left for my math class and some responses due in my psych class for tonight. also i am not looking forward to my zoom appt with my professor tomorrow afternoon (no offense to him at all, i just dont feel like it LOL i have questions about the final though and it was his idea to make it a zoom appt instead of just.. emailing me back with more clarity. but fine.) hopefully its easy, quick, and helpful.

havent decided yet if i should alternate my gym days or just go three in a row. im not doing much aside from reading on the treadmill (For now) eventually, i want to add body strengthening yoga into the mix.

i know that this full moon in libra is supposed to help with realigning with your goals and rebalancing routines and i have definitely felt that this weekend. didn't really smoke or drink at all, caught up on some sleep. i guess it makes sense to be more discerning about ur indulgences. im hoping to have a good week! hope everyone elses is too. 🧿

[miriaflowers]

therapy sessions

11/6/23

I decided that journaling what I talk through with my therapist would be an incredibly helpful self reference guide to look back upon. note - this is about 4 months into therapy, first two with a therapist I didn't connect well with and two with my current therapist who is awesome.

today was my first session since getting back home from my Japan and Korea trip. it feels weird being home because it feels less like home than I did when I was traveling around in Asia. that's part of my essence, I love the freedom of travel and the genuine connections you can make along the journey. to keep some of that travel magic we talked about being a tourist in my own city as I admittedly have not explored much of.

she also sent me a daily planner PDF that I definitely should utilize and print out. routine is important for me, at least a loose one with a few things a week to look forward to. I could never do a rigid packed schedule but I'm finding comfort in the middle, having some foundational plans to work around.

we talked about creating a commitment of sorts to the climbing gym and yoga. at least a consistent day and time, we'll shoot for 3 times a week for now. the goal is to join the climbing gym tomorrow. it'll be worth it! consistency helps with my mental and emotional health and building a familiar community around those shared interests will create a fulfilling day to day life.

also talked about being more intentional about my food intake as when I'm home I usually just procrastinate eating and end up eating whatever junk is around. that will not fulfill and sustain my body, there's definitely been a difference in how I feel when eating back here vs my trip. I felt pretty nourished out there and it was so affordable for me. just as a factor of being in a different country my lifestyle was a lot more healthy. walking around a lot and being spoiled with culture, connection, and cheap delicious satisfying food. the three C's perhaps?

for now, since I am going to be here for a good while I imagine, I must focus on getting the career skills necessary to have the kind of life I want. flexibility and freedom are priceless to me. and that kind of lifestyle requires knowledge and skills in technology these days, which I fortunately love and use. I need to take advantage of that luck and learn. I wasn't built for this game but I have to play it the best I can. with enough help and perseverance I believe I can do it. I already got the luck part in some regards, it's up to me to utilize it.

inaction will be the death of me. I need a balance between the rest I need and the connection I need. because the truth is I need massive amounts of both and it's easy for me to fall into the void one way or another.

I'm lucky to have this chance and be alive. to get to travel and experience the things I have. music, culture, food, drugs, love. maybe not the exact love I've been desiring but still so much pure love over these years. enough love for me to make it to this point, you know?

I should continue doing these journals. it's been very helpful to explore what we've been talking about and get even more value out of my therapy.

trying to remember what all we talked about but I'm pretty sure that sums it up. continue to foster connections, tend to your body with both the activity and rest that it needs, nourish your body with good food, nourish your mind with new knowledge and skills (at this moment try to prioritize things in technology), nourish your soul with love, connections, and experiencing new things. I'm learning that this is the person that lies underneath the years of trauma and mental illness. I have hope that I'll like, and eventually love, this person.

[chasing-rabbits]

Today was going pretty good but then I get a call from my Mum and my Granddad who went in for a UTI yesterday which is like okay that’s nothing major right? Well the care home has phoned her and said he’s back in their care right now and basically his dialysis isn’t really working anymore and his kidneys are a lot worse and they’ve said to prepare for bad news. They said it could be tomorrow or 6 months from now there’s no way of knowing. But his kidneys are failing and yeah the dialysis is no longer enough.

My mum was already booking flights to go back out to Spain at the end of this month because they went out with my Uncle end of February but they had to finish up some paperwork that went wrong so were gonna go out in March. But I’ve asked if she can now book me a ticket on the flight too because usually I go out in October to see him but I don’t think he’ll have that long and I want to be able to see him even just once because I didn’t get that with my Grandma as this was during major lockdown that she got cancer and it broke me not being able to see her one last time.

When my other Granddad who came to live with us during the pandemic as he got sick. When he got ill I got to see him in the hospital the night before he died and honestly I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than not being there for the last moments with my Grandma because some people thought it might be better that I hadn’t seen her like that and could remember her as she was. But after going through both experiences I found it more comforting being able to be there with him in those moments than to not. I think both situations were very different though because of how the cancer affected her even she had said she was not wanting me to see her that way when we were planning to visit because it was on her mouth/jaw and it had gotten really swollen and she’d lost a lot of weight. But I saw my Granddad decline and that was tough but maybe that’s why it was comforting to be there in his last moments. Maybe they were right I hadn’t seen my Grandma since Covid so to then see her so deteriorated might’ve been more shocking than my Granddad because I was there with him throughout everything you know.

So I guess it is different but with my Granddad in Spain he’s been on dialysis for 8 years now and we’ve always gone into this knowing dialysis only works for so long and then that’s it so in a way I have had a long time to prepare myself for it like my other grandparents went from being so healthy to so sick overnight but my Granddad in Spain it was always clear he wasn’t healthy he had heart issues in his family he’d had a lot of strokes and then he went on dialysis and that was it we knew he had roughly 10 years to live and that was it. But honestly hearing it said out loud it’s still a shock like you think you have prepared yourself for it because you know it’s inevitable. I knew he’d lived longer than they expected because we found out that at his age turns out the dialysis wasn’t meant to last 10 years not even as long as it has so far but idk it was just a lot hearing it and after losing my granddad last year and my grandma the year before that it’s a lot of grief in a short amount of time and I feel like just as it’s starting to sting a little bit less when I see things that remind my of my Granddad around the house or when we are out and now I’m going to relive all of that again with my Granddad and it’s just a lot. And I know I just have to sit here and endure it because there’s no magic pill to take away and numb the pain of grief. It literally just is time. I have to just give it time and maybe eventually it’ll hurt less but fuck he’s the only grandparent I have left and we don’t really have any other close family. I haven’t even seen my cousins since I was a kid we’re not that close really. And my uncle on my dad’s side and my cousins on that side don’t talk to us because my dad and Uncle had a falling out because my Uncle was only caring about the inheritance and couldn’t be fucked to come visit my Granddad at all and did nothing to help care for him and it upset my Granddad a lot which upset my dad and they already had fallen out years back because he did a similar thing when my nan died literally came into my Granddads house after my nans funeral and took a bunch of stuff including an anniversary present my granddad had gotten her and a bunch of stuff that was really sentimental to him. Then they sold it all of and actually made him PAY to buy one of the items back that they stole out of his house. So yeah that’s a whole other issue though but it’s just when my Granddads gone that’ll be every grandparent gone and no other close relatives left and it’s just hard.

[blacklodgemusictx]

Texas Show Three: Austin Night Two

I'm in my San Antonio hotel room, awaiting Show Four. I can see how a person might get used to this. New city, new hotel, comfy bed (fingers crossed), tiny writing desk/table/bureau for me to sit at and pour out my adventures from the night before.

But there is a not insubstantial quantity of animals at home who need me back, not to mention a boss who will notice if I'm not back and re-chained to my oar at the proper time.

So I will continue on with the time allotted to me.

Last night was the Cactus Cafe in Austin and this had me feeling a lot of feelings (in my feelings? as the kids say?) If all eventualities are still playing out every where at any given time, four-years-younger me was still wandering the halls, looking for the cafe.

I was still there taking pictures with Marty where I accidentally hit record and ended up getting a video of the table top and random audio of our weird conversation (90% of conversations with Marty are probably weird conversations and I am 100% here for that), me with my hotel room freshly cancelled out from under me still talks to Salim (he has kind eyes... He's tall. Like me. Most people aren't tall like me. Why is he talking to me?), talks to Danny (who will go home to England and yet - on the other side of a stack of calendar pages - will still become my Skype guitar mentor). Maybe in some reality we still have our Austin hotel room and all is well, maybe in some realties, we hit a deer on the way home (Hill Country Deer roulette is a thing, y'all, never doubt.)

The stage curtains are still red at the Cactus Cafe. The whole thing felt small. Like when you return to a childhood classroom after a growth of years and wonder at the doll-sized tables and chairs, hooks for coats and backpacks now at stooping level.

The audience was good. A very respectable number. Quiet and attentive. Joe and Salim are appreciably tighter as a duo than just a couple of days ago. The songs with Oliva (all songs should be with Olivia. That should be the rule. If you want your song to be exponentially more gorgeous, allow her to deftly draw her bow across it) have grown from one to two ("Friends for Life" and now "Miette.")

Curfew at 10 doesn't afford Marty the same relaxed approach as previously. He still banters... he just tries to do it quickly/more condensed. Still. A sight to behold. I mentioned to Danny ("Laish" from the last tour, 2018) that we didn't get back from Celina last weekend until after 2am. You know how Marty loves to talk. That man, he agrees, loves to talk. But I don't think any one of us who have met him would have it any other way.

If there were ever enough time, I would love to take Marty strolling in some cool, storied old cemetery. He has prefaced "Hopes and Fears" each night with mention of a love story occurring during the Industrial Revolution where people were being eaten by machines just miles from the picturesque English countryside.

I wonder what he would say at the Colorado mining town cemeteries we've been to in years gone by where my favorite thing to do was walk amongst the headstones and imagine the tragedies that went with each short span between dashes. Injury, illness, tragedy... anything has to be infinitely more interesting and therefore romantic than the angry, disposable society of today.

It was a good show. The best possible incubator for what is about to happen because I'm surely about to be standing in Philly tomorrow (philly... philly... philadelphia. TOMORROW. Wake up. Terrifying miracle of modern air travel *POOF* other side of the US) wondering where all that good will and attentiveness went.

Salim gives voice to exactly what I'm thinking (he gestures to me twice last night to come back over to where he is because I wander off when people want to talk to him. Still, watching him wave at me, I stifle the urge to turn around and look behind me. Surely, he's waving at someone else.)

The touring unit, Salim says (Joe, Salim, Marty and Olivia) are hitting their stride and perfecting their performance (story about Venice here, speaking in different accents, counting in different languages, story about the arrival of "I Don't Think So" in one day's work)... just to only have one night left and done. This is the kind of situation where you want this to be the beginning, the warm up, not the end.

The East dates will not be like any of this. I know that. And I worry. He doesn't need me to worry. He's an old pro at this, but I also remember very clearly standing in the West Salem gig in 2020 and just being so angry while forks clattered against plates and people just would not *shut up*. They talked over Rhett too which is bizarre to me as this is who most of them are paying specifically to see (I still have only the most basic concept of Rhett. I know he is kind and gives off similar good feelings as Salim... but I also know he's on TV. Like, a lot). These audiences will be looking for a tipple, looking for a gnosh and the music will be a backdrop that a lot of them will barely pay attention to.

I'm glad for the Texas gigs. I'm glad for the love that has been afforded everyone so far. So so much.

Salim mentioned liking the response gotten so far to "Protect Your Peace," a lovely song Salim has been weaving around a piece of audience participation that has - so far - gone beautifully. I feel like this song is probably not even going to be tried on the next leg of shows... just a feeling.

But an old, dear friend of mine I've never actually met in person bought EIGHT tickets for Philly so there is as much positive mojo as anyone could possibly want right out of the gate.

And Sarah and me and my husband will be there. Which means, no matter how hard he has to fight to win the room every night... the cheering section from home will still be there.

And doubtless, there will be someone there every night that was just like I was. Someone who didn't know that some guy they've never heard of from Texas is EXACTLY what they needed to include to make their listening, their *living* experience that much better.

And winning one person is WINNING.

Grand adventure awaits.

[lostacelonnie]

Oooh thats exciting maple, the main character of bofuri is just. So stupid i love her i hope you have a good time. Yeahhh i love the manga but some of the like. Core essence of it feels lost in the show. Love to hear that even the actors can see wenclair is the real choice & not. Whatever that other nonsense is. Im not prepared for final spy x family bofuri or witch from mercury they've all been so good this season. I did see the uh. Food ranking post but understood none of that so im curious how deep i can dive into that blog but ill do it still. Thanks so much time has passed & im so behind but itill be worth it i do enjoy honkai & its lesbians

HEHE ILL PROBABLY WATCH IT TOMORROW OR IN TWO DAYS SINCE ILL HAVE A LOT OF TIME TO KILL. sorry for the late reply, i just got back from my grandma and being over at her place is. Very tiring. constant sensory hell. ooo then maybe ill check out the manga too! eventually. still havent seen the end of eva yet either.... WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE FINAL SXF EP ID LOVE TO HEAR THEM??? the food ranking post is a good one. tho i very strongly disagree on sernik bc it is SO MFING GOOD!!! deserves s rank. sernik is cheesecake btw. i love cheesecake, my aunt made an especially good one this year so i am Pleased. and good luck!!! todays story update was so UUGUGUHGHG /POS. it was worth getting through all that technobabble. misteln my beloved. worlds #2 fucked up auntie [#1 is mobius]. hare my slightly less beloved.

[tamagochiie]

when the rumbling came; erwin smith

pairing. Erwin Smith x Fem!reader 

synopsis. You were tired of work, of people, and of life treating you poorly. You quickly came to the conclusion that if you were going to end your life, now would probably be a good time as any. 

word count. 3.36k

tags + warnings. TRIGGER WARNING! depression, attempted to attempt suicide, reader being completely dead inside (metaphorically), modern!au, office!au (just a pinch), angst, comfort/fluff, 

notes. I don’t romanticize depression or suicide. Writing is my way of coping and dealing with everything that’s going on right now; don’t worry, I’m okay, really I am. So, this one shot is more or less self indulgent. Please, if you you’re going through some hardships don’t hesitate to reach out for help. My inbox is also free, and I’m always willing to listen. 

You had alway built yourself in a firm foundation made of rocks, that nothing could ever shake you and even if it did, you’d snap back like an elastic band. But very recently, very, very recently, you’ve been living on a faultline and for a while now there’d be tremors - nothing strong enough to shake you, though. 

But your foundation soon turned into sand as the weeks came by and stress came to you in waves. The little tremors eventually turned into big ones. You found yourself swaying, crumbling, and now you were barely reaching the end of the week without falling to your knees and weeping, your pleas for mercy hung in the air, right in your face as if it were mocking you. 

The home you had built for yourself had fallen into rubble and nothing could protect you. 

Nothing could save you from all the wind and rain, and quite frankly, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to be saved. Being saved meant continuing on, meant trudging through the fight and you had no more fight left in you. 

So there you sat, on the very edge of the roof of your office building with your feet dangling. Night life in the city glimmered and glowed, completely ignorant to you suffering. But it looked nice and you found yourself thankful because at least life was kind enough to give you one last “good” view before you did the deed. 

I’d just have to scoot and I’d be on my way to the pavement, you thought idly. 

You weren’t even scared, and maybe that’s what scared you, that you were completely okay with ending it here. That you didn’t even bat an eye when the idea came into your head while you bought yourself a sandwich during your lunch break. 

It kinda felt easy like solving 1+1.

So maybe it was your calmness that scared you. Maybe it's the fact that once you had made up your mind, you had been set as if you were picking out clothes for the next day kind of set. 

You swung your feet, feeling yourself scooch closer to the edge and your heart didn’t even race - not even a flutter.

You craned your neck back to look at the sky, not a single star in sight. You heavily sighed and played with your hands while you teared up and eventually cried. All the burdens you carried, the responsibilities you shouldered, and the insecurities you kept close to your heart flooded out of you in one single, painstaking sob. 

Your chest heaved and your voice cracked as you screamed into a void, knowing you’d never be heard over all the honking and clamouring from the city beneath you. 

“I dunno who's listening,” You croak to the night, your throat dry from all the crying, “but if I’m not supposed to die tonight, can you give me a sign...or something? Like, send someone out here to do a handstand or something. If - If there’s like, any sliver of hope I have left or whatever...If I’m not supposed to end here, then just do that because I really dunno if I’m supposed to hang on anymore...” 

You never prayed a single prayer in your life, maybe just once when you were wavering in your ability to attain such a fine job as this, or when both your parents fell ill and you were left alone to fend for yourself. But other than that, you more or less suffered silently, cried to yourself when you needed to, and pulled yourself out of trouble. 

It was late into the night, so the prayer was already silly to begin with. Everyone had gone home and you made sure of it because you hid in the bathroom until the lights turned off and the floor of your office was completely silent. 

And the more you thought about it, as you imagined yourself hiding in that bathroom like a dumbass, you felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

Well, it wasn’t like you were going to be alive to bear it into tomorrow morning anyway. 

You flinched at the sudden sound of the fire exit creaking open, the metal scratching against the pavement. You turned your head and squinted at the shadows and the little light provided by the exit sign. 

“Hello?” You called out to the shadows and flinched when you saw it move, heedlessly pulling yourself away from the edge as you leaned back to take a closer look. 

You gasped lowly as a familiar, rather burly figure emerged from the darkness. It was your boss, Mr. Smith, who had his eyes widen in surprise, as if he was shocked to have actually found someone on the roof. 

He narrowed his gaze on you and wore a tight lip as he studied you intently. He stayed near the fire exit, hand in the pocket of his clean cut slacks while the other hung by his side. 

You had sworn everyone had gone home. 

Not everyone, you supposed. 

“Can I help you?” You asked through your sniffling, but Mr. Smith kept quiet; the silence grew to be quite awkward the longer he stood there. 

After a few beats, he stepped forward, rolling up the sleeves of his button up shirt before he ran his fingers through his hair. A tremulous breath escaped his lips as he spun on the heels of his shoes, facing the wall. 

You cocked your head, blinking owlishly at him. And in one, fluid motion, with little to no effort, he bent down to lean onto his hands and kicked his feet up to the air, leaning against the wall for support. 

He did a handstand. 

What? 

You would be laughing if you weren’t in the state you were in. 

Mr. Smith was still looking directly at you as he stood on his hands, his clothes bunched up beneath his chin while his face burned red from the sudden rush of blood to his head.  

All you could do was leave your mouth hanging open, blinking at him in bewilderment. 

With a faint grunt, Mr. Smith brought his feet back to the ground and pushed himself off his hands. He brushed his hands together to dust away the dirt before he looked back to you as he ran his hands down the creases of his vest. 

“Before you say anything,” He spoke, his voice deep and velvety, “I have absolutely no idea why I did that, but there was a little voice in my head that told me to.” 

You licked your lips and stayed quiet, still taking in what had just happened. 

“But my question is,” He began, “are you okay?”

“Do I look like I’m okay?” You spat, but you bit your tongue and cleared your throat when you realized who you were talking to. “Sorry,” You quietly muttered, twisting yourself back to look at the building in front of you. 

You listened as the footsteps behind you drew closer, ultimately coming to a quiet halt. 

“Mind if I join you?” He dipped his head down to look at you and you glanced at him in the corner of your eye, shrugging your shoulders. 

Mr. Smith took the spot beside you and swung his feet over the ledge, mirroring the way you sat before digging his hand back into his pocket to pull out a packet of cigarettes. 

“You got a lighter?” He asked, sticking a cigarette between his lips. You shook your head, amazed at his nonchalant demeanor. “That’s okay, I’ve got one.” 

You watched him with a puzzled look as he lit his cigarette and blew a smoke. 

It was pretty obvious what you were trying to do; your eyes were red and looked sore, your cheeks stained with tears, and not to mention you were setting on the ledge of a build without your shoes on. 

How was he so calm?

“I’ve seen you around the office,” He recalled, blowing a few more smokes before he turned to you, “you look like a hard worker.” 

“Depends on how you define ‘hard worker’,” You mumbled. Mr. Smith brought the cigarette in front of you as if signaling you to take it. You do. “I’m more of a half-assed worker that’s just ebbing and flowing bullshit just to get the job done so I can go home and wallow in self-pity in silence.” 

He chuckled. It sounded sweet. 

“So why are you sitting on the ledge?” 

You drew out a smoke. 

“I don’t wanna live anymore.” You deadpanned. “I hate my life and I hate that it’s fucked me in the ass -” You blew another smoke before passing it back to Mr. Smith, your body a lot more calmer and your mind unfiltered, “ - without even my consent.” 

“I don’t blame you,” He said earnestly, and it shocked you. The golden boy who strolled up and down the office floors with his chest out, head held high, and a smile that made every woman’s knees go weak was agreeing with you. His eyes looked like it held all the hope and promise in the world, yet he was agreeing with you.“But are you sure you wanna do that? What if life gets better?” 

You snickered though no trace of amusement on your face. 

“I’ve been living on ‘what ifs’, Mr. Smith,” You pointed out plainly, “I’m not about to keep going. What’s the point of living on ‘what ifs’ when nothing happens? At the end of the day, I’m just an idiot that keeps thinking, ‘What if today’s better?’, ‘What if there’s a new flavor of ice cream that’s been released and it turns out to be my favorite?’ -- it’s stupid.” 

“What if your boss gives you a raise?” He smirked at you playfully but you only rolled your eyes. “What? It was worth a try.” 

“Your try was shit.” 

“What about if you tried a different approach?” 

“Look, Mr. Smith,” You sighed in annoyance and snatched the cigarette from his hand and propped it between your lips, “I don’t have a lot of fight left in me, okay? I’ve tried, I failed. That’s it. So, would you just leave me to do what I need to do? Please?” 

“If you wanted to kill yourself, you would’ve done it by now.” 

You threw him a sour look, offended that he didn’t think you could do it. 

But why would you be upset about that? 

“You don’t know me.” You muttered.

“I know well enough that if you wanted to call quits, you wouldn’t have sat here for nearly an hour, praying for a sign.” 

“You heard?” 

He nodded. 

“You lied!” You raised your voice and without giving it much thought, you punched him in the arm. “You said you didn’t know why you came up here!” 

“Oh, I didn’t,” He calmly argued. “Not completely, anyway. I saw you go up when I was on my way out. When I noticed you didn’t take your things, not even your phone, I had a gut feeling it was something bad.” 

“I waited for a little while,” He explained, “I thought that maybe you wanted some fresh air, but the longer I waited, the more worried I got. So I went up the steps just to check on you, and your voice...did you know your voice carries well in the stairwell? I heard your voice, small and completely detached from life. Even then, you were asking for help, and how could I refuse?”

“Do you make it a point to get into other people’s business?” 

“Only when they’re trying to take their life.”  

“And now what?” You sounded detached and uninterested, and he didn’t blame you for it. He never spoke to you outside of meetings or work, not even once. Of course his words wouldn’t have any impact. “Are you gonna tell me not to go through with it, talk me down or something? You gonna tell me ‘If you can’t live for yourself, then live for me’? That kinda dumb shit?” 

He shook his head, a faint pout on his lips. Despite your mocking tone, Mr. Smith remained calm and didn’t take it personally. Though you kinda wish he did, so he could leave you alone.

“No, nothing like that....” Mr. Smith weighed his options, choosing his next words and his next approach carefully.

He’s been here before and he falls into shallow thought, remembering all the things he didn’t do and see if he could do it now.  

“I - I’ve been both on both ends of the situation, I just -” Mr. Smith sighed heavily, as he rubbed his hands together, “- I didn’t do anything last time, so - so when I saw you I thought maybe I could somehow make up for it.” 

“That kinda sounds shitty,” You pointed out. 

It was indeed a shitty thing that you were somehow being used to clear a conscience, but you understood where his heart was at.  It was nice that he was trying - it was nice that someone had noticed. 

But that’s all that it was for you: it was just nice. 

“I’m just so fucking tired,” You admitted, your eyes stinging with fresh tears. You tilted your head back to keep it from spilling, but like all of your attempts at anything, you failed. “I’m so fucking tired of being tired, and nothing’s going right. I’ve tried different approaches, changing my mindset. I even did all these stupid Pinterest self-help boards, but that didn’t help either. I’m desperately grasping for straws and I’ve finally decided to just...stop.” 

You rolled your head, looking at your boss with lifeless eyes and it terrified him. He didn’t know what to say - not then and most certainly not now. But what does anyone say to a person who’s given up all hope and interest in living? 

You seemed to have made up your mind and Mr. Smith worried that he’d have another life in his hands. He didn’t want that and he found himself growing desperate. 

He liked you, whether it be a co-worker or something else, he liked seeing you around the office. You were smart and though you looked soft spoken, you most certainly weren’t. You never ceased to amaze him with the things you submitted, so he truly wondered why you felt so inadequate. 

Mr. Smith couldn’t help but blame himself for not paying attention.

“I say don’t die,” He said rather confidentiality, and you furrowed your brows at this. He was becoming persistent in his meddling. “I say wait it out another day or week, and then if you really wanna, fine. I’ll even leave the emergency exit unlocked for you.” 

You widened your eyes, your mouth parted but not a single sound came out. 

“Why should I wait when I can do it right now?” 

“Because of the ‘what ifs’.” 

You grunted. 

“I already told you --” 

“Yes, but what if I tried to help you?” 

“I’m not going to be your charity case, Mr. Smith,” You chastised. “I’d rather die than be your charity case.” 

“You won’t be,” He said rather calmly. A small smile crept across his lips and his eyes twinkled against the faint glow of the city lights. “You’ll be my friend and I, too, need a friend.” 

“Mr. Smith --” 

“Call me Erwin.” 

You cleared your throat. You felt embarrassed to say the least. You opened your mouth and found it weird when you spoke his name. You didn’t like it, but it was something you could get used to. 

“Why would you wanna be my friend?” 

“Because life’s fucked me in the ass without my consent, too.” It was weird hearing something so crass coming from the poster boy of perfection and all things pure. You almost thought you’d completely lost it and had imagined he ever said it. “And I heard that suffering with someone makes the experience a little less painful and a little more bearable. So, won’t you be my friend and suffer with me?” 

Mr. Smith noticed your hesitance, even more so when he held his left hand out for you to take. It felt formal like he was trying to close a business deal or something. It was a bit weird. 

“You’re not gonna be my reason for living,” You said, letting his hand awkwardly hang in the air. But he didn’t bother to retract it. “I’m not looking for a savior.” 

“You’re looking for your strength and so am I, so let’s just look together and see what we find, mm?” 

You looked at him, studied him. Why did he care so much, and why did you want to know? 

After all, you did ask for a sign, yet here you were being stubborn and pretending as if you hadn’t seen it at all. You didn’t believe in miracles or spectacular alignments of the universe, but when you took his hand, you felt a warmth of reassurance - a sense of peace. 

Suddenly, with a high pitch yelp from your lips, Mr. Smith quickly moved his left hand and wrapped it over you and pulled you down with him as he threw himself back onto the pavement behind you. His right hand cushioned your blow and he winced in pain when he caught you. 

You found yourself tightly gripping onto the material of his sleeve when you took a peak to check on Mr. Smith. He was looking down at you, a nervous smile plastered across his face. 

You shoved him off, muttering to yourself as you patted yourself down. 

“That was uncalled for.” You grumbled. 

“How would I know? You would’ve changed your mind for all I know.” 

“I took your hand!” You chided. “That was basically me saying, ‘Okay, I’ll be your friend’! What if you had thrown yourself forward instead!” 

“But I didn’t.” He replied calmly, a smile, one that irked you completely, pulled the corners of his lips. 

“Yeah, but what if you had?” 

“But I didn’t.”

He stood up from the floor and patted the dust and dirt of his pants before reaching down to help you up from the ground. 

“Thank you for being my friend,” Mr. Smith grinned. “I promise you won’t regret it.” 

You rolled your eyes as he kept his hold around your hand, shaking it. 

“Your promises don’t mean much to me.” 

 It had been months since your moment on the rooftop with Erwin. Though he had been keen, inviting you out for lunch, for dinner, and spared some time for small talk in passing, you were still walking on eggshells, especially because you worried that it might’ve looked unprofessional. 

But really, no one cared as much as you did. Everyone had just assumed Erwin was just being kind. But still, it gave you more stress than it did comfort you, and though you had spat a few unkind words his way, he never left. 

He always came back with a bright smile and offerings, whether it were candies or actual food. 

Eventually, you eased in and you were no longer agitated. You found yourself looking forward to Erwin’s occasional visits to your desk or when he’d ask you out for some coffee. 

At the end of every day Erwin would never miss a beat and would ask you how you were doing, and it never felt performative or forced. He was warm and genuine, and he’d share his burdens with you, too. 

And you found yourself realizing that he was right, that struggling with someone made things a little less painful and a little more bearable. That despite the struggle, knowing someone so patient and understanding, would be there to catch you. 

“Hey,” You spoke over the rim of your freshly brewed tea as you sat across the little round table of the coffee shop. Erwin’s eyes flicked up at you as he took a bite of his muffin. “Thanks,” 

He raised a brow and cocked his head to the side, “What for?” He asked, his words muffled by his stuffed mouth. 

“Thanks for being my friend.” 

He smiled, a few crumbs falling from his lips and onto his plate. 

“Thank you for being mine.” 

[cherri-cherri]

× Little moments ×

-----------×-----------

Pairings - Sukuna x Dying!Reader

Synopsis - Even with you gone, Sukuna remembers all of the memories of you.

Warnings - Story contains Character Death, possible misspelled words, cursing, and triggers to those who have encountered someone dying from a diseases such as cancer.

A/N: There was a headcanon that I just thought was too juicy to not try out where Sukuna had a lover but they were unfortunately lost to an sickness. So here we go, I hope you all enjoy it.

--------------------------------------

It was always the little moments that counted when with the one you loved the most...

"Why do you not run, Woman?", a rough voice said behind her with a slight chuckle following in suit. Before the woman was the vision of death that would no doubt be burned into her mind for the rest of her life. Houses burning down into ashen shambles as the smell of burning flesh lingered in the air. Bodies littered the streets with crows hovering over the corpses for their next meal while screams and shouting could be heard from various survivors and victims caught in the destruction.

Yet as much as the sight of her village horrified her, nothing frightened the woman most than that of the sharp claws hovering over her throat, threatening to pierce into her flesh any moment now. "I said," she felt a small prick as the nail of the stranger's index finger slowly scratched the surface of her skin, "Why do you not run? Why do you not beg..?"

Her breath hitched in her throat, gasping a little but she did her best to not flinch in the man's grasp. "I-I'm doomed to die either way, dying here by your hand would mean no differently..so I am prepared to die", she said, closing her eyes as she braced herself for her untimely end. Hearing a guttural sound coming from the man, the woman was spun around to face him and her fears only grew worse.

Yes, the attack on the village could have possibly be that of bandits or a lone man causing chaos but this was no man. No..it was a monster. Four muscular arms, two faces attached to his head, a second mouth on his lower abdomen...This man was a beast, no..he was a curse. The king of curses, the terror of the land, Ryomen Sukuna.

Seeing the dread on her face, Sukuna let out a satisfied chuckle as he roughly gripped onto her chin. "You mean to tell me you don't fear death, woman?"

"No, no I fear it. I'm frightened of the thought— but I'm dying anyway. I have only a year's worse of time left before this sickness claims me, so what's the difference if it's by your hand or not.." she spoke honestly from the heart, surprising the man before her only a tad bit as she looked down to the gravel below. No one had a cure for her illness, there was no hope at all for it, even a few doctors had told her to prepare a grave in advance just in case her death came sooner than expected. It would be unfortunate but she had made peace with knowing the end was near. And so, she waited once more for whatever gruesome fate Sukuna had for her...only to hear,

"No."

"What?" She questioned, looking back up at the man who towered over her. "This will not be the day you die."

That was the first moment she had encountered the king of curses, the moment he had spared her life. Why he did, she never understood, yet after that faithful encounter, Sukuna always found her. Perhaps he visited her only out of boredom and figured today would be the day he would kill the woman, but no, he never did.

To Sukuna, Y/N was a curious case. At first, she was a mere game to him to keep him entertained for a bit or to gain a meal or two but the more he visited her, the closer he grew to the woman. She would always ask the same question whenever she saw him,

"Is today the day, Sukuna-Sama?" And she would always ask it with such a calm smile on her lips. It irritated him—no, annoyed him that she didn't fear the looming threat of death with each visit he made. What made it worse was how welcoming the girl was to him.

He came to learn things about Y/N. The first was that she was a firm believer in her worship. Even with the motor functions of her legs growing weaker and weaker by the day, the girl would try to make a daily trip to the local temple for prayer. Once, he caught her passed out on the steps to the temple and when questioning her on why she was so desperate to prey, the only answer he received was "It may seem stupid to you but I'm grateful for the life I have, even if it's so short. They've allowed air and life to see and hear and to be here with you..so paying my respects every day is just hope that maybe tomorrow, I get to see you again." And then she smiled to him. That same irritating damning smile...

It strung a place in his chest that he had not felt in a long time. A place he thought was long shriveled up and killed, yet she brought it out. He learned that she loved flowers. Coming to her home once to find her tending to her garden, looking surprised to see him only to greet him like always, cheerful dirt covered smile and all..."Welcome back, Sukuna-Sama. Is today the day?"

Eventually the garden withered away when Y/N couldn't even step through the front door. He saw how almost every day, she grew weaker and steadily weaker. Her beautiful skin slowly dulling away into a pale color, her hair once lush and fine as silk now fallen out and gone, her breaths slow and timid. But she always greeted him with that same way as always..

"Is today the day?"

"Is today the day, Sukuna-Sama"

"S-sukuna..Sama..."

He hated it. He hated that some frail woman was able to make him feel such pathetic feelings. He hated the fact that he grew attached to her and now seeing her slowly become nothing but a husk as every sun sets was growing unbearable.

There were days to where Y/N's condition grew worse, to where when Sukuna arrived to see her, she couldn't remember who he was. Her coughing fits had her spew blood onto her hands and her body ached in pain so much. She was not long for this world and he knew it...he knew it.

"Sukuna-Sama...please, please..." He was above her as she laid in her bed, his hand cover her left one as her right palm caressed his cheek gently "is today..t-the day..?"

His heart felt like it was slowly being grounded up into bits as he started into her eyes. He wanted to say no, he wanted for her to stay just a bit longer in his embrace and yet that wasn't possible. Not in her state. Lifting her hand up to his lips, Sukuna stood up from her knee as a sigh escaped his lips.

"Yes..Today is the day, Y/N."

And there was that same smile as always. Weakly stretching across her cheeks with no malice or anger, not even a single trace of regret. "Oh good...Finally...." closing her eyes, Y/N prepared herself for the end yet again but now knowing this time it would surely come. As Sukuna's nails extended a bit, preparing to end the woman, he heard her last words and froze.

"Thank you, Sukuna-Sama...thank you for these little moments..."

He sat there for God knows how long, staring at her corpse laying there peacefully on the bed with a gaping hole in her chest. Blood dribbled down Y/N's now cold and chapped lips, the warmth in her body now gone as well as the life that once flowed through the empty shell of a body. Resting below his feet was a heart, her heart, no longer pumping fresh blood through her body but instead laying motionless on the wooden floor. She was gone.

She was finally gone and yet this feeling remained. This horrible feeling in his own heart. Those memories of her were constantly playing on loop, over and over again with the same words in his mind.

'Is today the day, Sukuna-Sama'.

He screamed out her name. He yelled it for all to hear, anguish filling his soul entirely as he uttered her name. He cursed her. He screamed out her name so many times and cursed her for placing him through such hell. He cursed her..for being the woman he loved. The woman he grew to love and yet she would never know. Perhaps he truly didnt mean those words, but hoped by cursing her, Y/N would return.

That she would awaken in his arms and give him that same smile he came to love. But no, it wouldn't have been that simple. She wasn't coming back..she wasn't coming back....

A thousand years have gone by and yet those little moments echoed in his mind. As he stood before the grave of his true love in the body of his vessel, he remember those words he said to him before she gave her last breath–

'Thank you..'

"No. I should've thanked you, Y/N. Rest well..."

--------------------------------

[A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this. This is my first fanfic here on tumblr and well, I like it but I want more. I might make more following this concept of a lover of Sukuna, maybe even do little scenes that I wasnt able to add here in the fic.

I'm open for asks and requests of Characters from jjk like Sukuna, Gojou or Megumi to which I'll make a post about later. Feel free to Message me with any questions on it if you like or follow for an update down the line. Thank you guys and again and please like/reblog this. See you in the next fic -🍒]

[write-r-die]

Prisoner - Part 21

MEDIEVAL AU - Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

For the first time in a long time, Henry dreamt of Eleanor. 

He remembered the feel of the sunlight beating down on his bare back as the two of them made love in the tall grass for the first time. He’d tried to be gentle and careful with her but that wasn’t what she wanted. 

She wanted passion. Something primal. Making love outside the confines of marriage was dangerous and wrong and it made perfect sense that Eleanor would want the experience to be intense. Looking back on it, she was probably just in a hurry.

Henry remembered how pleased he was when she first told him that she wanted him and he, like a fool, had accepted without question.

They snuck away to a hilltop where they wouldn’t be seen by anyone but grazing livestock. It was the first true day of summer. The flowers around them were all in bloom. The lovers were young and beautiful and in their prime. It was paradise.

Eleanor’s true intention, Henry eventually figure out, was to make him believe that he was the first and only man ever to touch her. Really, she’d already given in to her baser urges and gave herself to the man she would leave Henry for. 

What was Eleanor thinking when she chose to sleep with Henry? Did she feel guilty for making a mistake? Was she trying to undo it somehow? Or was it a test? Did she wish to test Henry’s abilities as a lover against those of the other man?

When she ran off with the other man, he was torn between sorrow and humiliation. He’d loved her; she’d left him. Though he was no virgin, he’d given himself to her as wholly and completely as if he were; she ran away with someone else.

Such things happened to naïve young peasant girls, not a baron’s noble son. How could he be so foolish? So stupid?

He told himself he wouldn’t fall in love with a woman again unless they were already married, but of course he broke that promise when he laid eyes on Thomasin. At least he waited to have her until after they were wed, when he was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would not sever their bond as Eleanor had.

Thomasin and Eleanor were nothing alike. They were both fairly tall, but that was where the similarities ended. Eleanor had thick, dark hair and eyes so dark they were nearly black. Her skin had the slightest olive cast to it and she constantly pinched her cheeks to add more color, although she didn’t need to. She was overly concerned with her appearance.

Not Thomasin. Tom was just Tom. She didn’t care overmuch about the flush in her cheeks or the fullness of her lips. She was just herself.

Eleanor was lovely though. She was a warm, soft thing that he could lose himself in. She never lost herself in him.

That didn’t keep him from dreaming of her, though.

Henry felt guilty when he woke. How could he dream of someone else after his wife had finally confessed that she loved him – especially because she did so while begging him not to leave her behind the way everyone else had.

He always knew that he was something of anchor to her – something solid to hold on to while the world churned around her – but he didn’t know how truly important he was to her. She’d said before that he was the only thing that was left to her, but he didn’t understand the gravity of that statement.

Henry just wanted to fall back to sleep, not to face the problems today would present him with. Not to face his harsh reality. Still, he forced his eyes to open.

The room was still dark; the thick fur that hung over the window to block the chill also blocked the light from outside. 

Henry took a long moment to study the bright lines of sunlight that bordered the pelt. It reminded Henry of a battering ram hammering against the doors of a keep. It was something he’d seen several times since the Normans first made landfall back in September. The months that passed since then felt like a lifetime.

Henry turned his head toward his wife, Thomasin wasn’t beside him. He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Tom?” he called toward the antechamber. The door was partially open so she should be able to hear him. “Thomasin?”

He was just getting out of bed to search for her when she came shuffling back into the room.

“Where were you?”

“I was in a cupboard in the corridor.”

“Why?”

“I had to vomit and I didn’t wish to do so in our bed.”

“That’s very thoughtful.” Henry pulled down the blankets and helped her lay down. “You should’ve woken me.” He gently pressed his hand to her forehead and then her throat. “You don’t feel feverish.”

“I am not ill.” She was reluctant to continue but the look on Henry’s face was probing. “Do you remember how I fell ill when I thought you were going to fight Lawrence?”

Henry frowned, taking a deep breath through his nose. “Your courses?” That was disappointing. Henry had planned to make love to his wife a few times before he left tomorrow, but nature couldn’t be helped.

“Not yet. Maybe God will pity us and they won’t arrive until after you’ve gone,” Tom said.

Henry offered a weak smile. 

Tom reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand. “I cannot stand it when you look at me like that.”

“Why?”

“That’s how you looked at me when I was shot.”

Henry turned his head to kiss her palm. “If you stay safe and healthy, you’ll never see it again.”

Tom rolled her eyes but it was an empty gesture. She was still too raw to do much more than lie there and look at her husband. She was too tired to speak – and even if she could, what would she say? She felt like her flesh was peeled back and Henry could see every thought and feeling she’d ever had, laid bare for him.

“I love you, Tom,” Henry said.

“I know,” she replied. She swallowed hard before she spoke again. “I love you.”

Henry lowered himself over her and caught her up in a kiss. She whimpered when he flicked his tongue into her mouth and again when he held her lower lip between his teeth. One of his hands rose to cup her breast, which was sore and swollen from her impending courses, and he gently squeezed. She moaned into his mouth, arching her back to give him better access. He pulled back slightly with an evil grin on his face. “Are you going to vomit again?”

Thomasin whined.

Henry chuckled as he moved down her body, holding her gaze, and tugged down her nightgown until her breasts were bare before him. He’d just taken one into his mouth when a hesitant knock came at the door.

“Sir? My lord?” Jamie’s voice cracked when he spoke. He was on the other side of the door and could not see what was happening, but Lady Thomasin’s moans gave him a good idea of what was going on.

“What?!” Henry spat.

“Your brother Simon is awake.”

***

Elaine was helping Simon sip from a bowl of broth when Thomasin and Henry entered the hall. He lay on his stomach as he struggled to swallow the liquid that was essentially being poured over his face; Elaine set the bowl down and dabbed around his mouth with a handkerchief. 

Roger stood nearby, wavering on his feet. Henry bet he was on his feet most, if not all, of the night.

“Simon!” Henry called, dashing forward. Thomasin followed a few steps behind. She wasn’t sure if she would be a welcome sight to the injured warrior.

“Henry,” Simon croaked in reply. Henry knelt beside the table so Simon could see him better. “You’re looking well.”

Not for the first time, Thomasin noted how little resemblance any of the three brothers bore. She wondered if the other two brothers looked anything alike. She wagered they didn’t.

“So are you,” Henry said.

Simon snorted.

“You look better than you were before,” Henry amended. 

“Mmm,” Simon replied. “I have Elaine to thank for it.” His bandaged fingers twitched the slightest bit against Elaine’s palm as if he were trying to give it a reassuring squeeze. Henry hadn’t even noticed they were holding hands.

“That’s not entirely true,” Roger piped in. “I’m the one who set your bones.” And removed his finger.

“All at Elaine’s direction,” Simon countered. “Roger and Elaine said you married the Saxon girl. Lady Thomasin.”

“Yes, I did,” Henry said, a smile bursting across his face. He gestured for Thomasin to join him, but Simon’s eyes were already drooping shut.

“Kill him for me, eh?” he muttered. He lost consciousness a few moments later.

A beat of silence followed. It was clear who he was. 

***

Their lovemaking was so intense it was almost painful. Henry’s pace was slow but his thrusts were deep and hard. She moaned every time Henry touched her back wall.

He pulled one of her hands toward her center. “Show me,” he grunted. Thomasin rubbed a circle. The sensation was so strong it made her legs jerk. Henry smiled down at her. “Good girl.”

“Henry!” She dug her fingers into his back hard enough that Henry thought she may have drawn blood.

He held his own orgasm at bay, trying to concentrate only on Thomasin’s pleasure and beauty, but when she dug her fingernails into his thighs, trying to take him even deeper, he fell apart. 

This was never how it was with Eleanor. Not once.

***

Thomasin lay against her husband’s bare chest, a hand pressed over his heart to feel its soothing rhythm. Henry had his arms around her, and he gently trailed his fingertips along her spine. They made love hours ago but they had yet to sleep.

They didn’t make love again, either, though Henry wanted to. Thomasin was worried she would vomit on him; she told him so and that was where the conversation ended.

She insisted over and over that he sleep, since there was no telling when he’d have a full night’s rest again. But it was clear neither one would be able to shut their eyes.

“Do you think the others are asleep?” asked Thomasin. 

“Roger and Charlie might be, if Elaine is with Simon. It’s too much to hope they’re all abed,” said Henry. “Baron Edwin – William’s particular favorite I was telling you about – is probably sleeping like a baby.”

“I dislike that expression,” Thomasin said. “Babies sleep deeply but they don’t sleep well.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Henry said. 

“What about . . .” Tom hesitated. “What about Lawrence?” She exhaled deeply. “I can’t imagine him sleeping. Not ever.”

Some of the women at court alleged that he would skulk about his castle at night back in Normandy. They said it was part of the reason his wife went mad. It was as if she were being stalked by a predator – the moment the poor woman let her guard down, he would attack. Thomasin didn’t know what sort of attack the Norman ladies were alluding to and she did not care to find out.

Henry didn’t reply to his wife’s question, just gave her a gentle squeeze.

“What do you think will happen?” she asked after a moment.

“I don’t know. But I am pleased he will be with us.”

Thomasin pushed herself off of his chest and stared at him as though he’d sprouted a second head. “What did you say?”

Henry smiled slightly at her repulsion. “He’s a great fighter. Clever as the devil, too. I’d rather have him with me than against me.” Tom frowned and Henry tightened his grip on her. “Lay down with me again. It’s cold.” She did as he asked, and he tucked her back into his arms.

“Do you think he’ll try to hurt you?” she asked a moment later.

“No. Not outright. And not until we’ve done what we need to do.” Lawrence knew the others would take Henry’s side in a verbal or physical fight, and he was smart enough to put the king’s business before his own.

There was a moment of tense silence before Thomasin spoke. “Tell me a story.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Something happy. Tell me how you got Kal.”

“We were away at a tourney,” Henry began, a smile in his voice. “Me, Nik, Simon, and our father. A serf’s dog had just whelped and he was giving away her pups – we never saw the mother,” he added. “My father took one of the pups thinking to give it to my mother to be a companion – a lapdog. I looked after him on the journey home. My mother was so pleased. She spoiled him rotten. And then he started growing.” 

Thomasin chuckled.

“My nephew wanted to keep him – he’s the one that named him – but it wasn’t long before the dog was bigger than he was. And my brother and his wife didn’t have the patience for it.”

“So you got him?”

“I was the one who picked him out,” Henry said proudly. “It was only right I take him.”

Thomasin smiled to herself. “It’s hard to imagine you without him. Did you have other dogs growing up?”

“Only hounds,” Henry said. “None like him. I don’t think there will ever be another like him.” He ran a hand through her pale orange tangles. “I’m going to leave him here with you. You need someone to argue with in my absence.”

Absence.

They fell silent again. It was impossible to ignore the rapid lightening of the sky outside. 

“I love you, Henry,” Tom murmured. “I don’t know why it took me so long to say.”

“You’ve said it; that’s what matters,” Henry replied in the same low voice. “And when I get back you can say it again every day.”

***

The five warriors stood together in the armory, selecting weapons, sharpening their swords, and dressing for battle. Outside the sky was a medium shade of blue. Roger’s eyes seemed stuck on it as he gazed across the room through a window.

Henry stood directly across from his friend as Jamie secured his chausses. “You’re quiet,” he said to Roger. “It’s unsettling.”

Roger turned his head to look at Henry. “I have an ill feeling in my gut,” he said as his squire secured his pauldron. 

“That’s just because you woke early,” Charlie said from nearby. He was watching intently as a smith sharpened his sword with a whetstone. “Or because you’re with child.”

“No,” said Roger, ignoring Charlie’s jest. “I’ve a feeling –” he cut himself off, eyes briefly flickering to Henry. Whatever feeling it was, he didn’t want to share it with his already-distressed friend and trouble him further.

“You can speak plainly in front of me,” said Henry.

Roger took a deep breath through his nose.  “I’ve a feeling something bad is going to happen.”

Lawrence was pretending to concentrate on the balance of different bows in his hands as he eavesdropped. Henry saw his ears prick.

“We all have that feeling,” said Charlie.

Roger didn’t reply, just turned his head to look back out the window. He murmured to himself, “That isn’t what I meant.”

Henry’s heart sank.

***

Thomasin stood on the parapets to watch her husband ride out. He and his companions emerged from the stables, each guiding his horse by the reins. They were too far off for her to clearly see their features, but she knew Henry’s silhouette. 

He mounted his horse and prepared to follow the others through the gates. He looked back over his shoulder at his wife, her hair loose around her shoulders. She offered a small smile and raised her hand to silently say farewell.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from weeping like a woman and soon his mouth was full of blood.

Thomasin managed to keep her composure until her husband was out of sight. She doubled over with a low moan, clutching her churning stomach. 

(gif by @demivampirew​ as per usual)

I had CRAZY writer’s block with this but I had a breakthrough. I won’t get back to posting regularly until at least the middle of October

[justbelievinginmagic]

I Need U (Masterlist) A HYYH au / Bangtan Universe au

“What would you have done?” A new voice broke the silence.

The two friends glanced around; Seokjin's hand gripped Nari's tighter when they couldn't find anyone. The night air felt colder, their combined breaths low and slow. Even their heart beats seemed to quiet in their heads - despite the raging anxiety bubbling up like sea foam in Nari's chest. The crashing of the waves onto the rocks below seemed to whoosh into a distance murmur. The world muffled as the mysterious voice spoke again.

“Would you fix it? If you had the ability to go back, what would you do differently?”

Series Summary: Song Nari still couldn't wrap her mind around it. How was she here? Stuck in a world that felt more like a nightmare than reality. How did she end up here - wishing at a lookout point above the rolling sea in the dead of night besides a high school friend that she hadn't seen or talked to in over a year? How did she end up here after all she did was chase down the seven delinquents who graffitied her car to give them a piece of her mind?

---

This fic incorporates a female original character named Song Nari into the Bangtan Universe (focusing primarily on HYYH storyline and Smeraldo lore while incorporating BU MVs) and explores her relationships with the boys throughout the years as things go wrong and right before their lives get forever changed. Will her presence alter what happens in the end?

Pairing: Slow burn Kim Taehyung / OC, even slower burn Kim Seokjin / OC, Eventual Yoongi / Jungkook, Eventual Love Triangle Kim Taehyung / OC / Kim Seokjin. OT7 platonic relationship with OC.

Rated: M

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug/Alcohol Use, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcoholism, Major Character Death(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide (it’s the HYYH universe; its sad), Mental Illness Issues, Anxiety, Seizures, Time Travel, HYYH Canon Violence, Explicit Language.

Word count: 100k+

This is also being cross-posted on AO3.

Chapter 1: chase ‘em

Chapter 2: where did you come from? will you tell me your name?    

Chapter 3: make it right

Chapter 4: among the days that feel the same

Chapter 5: dance with me off beat?

Chapter 6: all the youngsters without dreams

Chapter 7: still wishing (for more good days)

Chapter 8: tomorrow becomes today; today becomes yesterday

Chapter 9: ended up at the sea

Chapter 10: smile with me

Chapter 11: cry with me

Chapter 12: don’t try to disappear

Chapter 13: maybe im becoming an adult

Chapter 14: singularity; the beginning

Chapter 15: april 11th

Chapter 16: lost your way

Chapter 17: the warmth in your hand that im holding

Chapter 18: hold me tight

Chapter 19: fear, which holds my hand

Chapter 20: ???

[heyitsmerose]

Letting Go

Pairing: Broken!Reader x Stranger!Yunho

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt Comfort

Word Count: 12.1k

Summary: You've never felt more down. Despite having a loving family and studying at a good school you still aren't happy. You may have many objective luxuries, but you don't have anyone to talk to. The stress from all around you is getting to you and you finally break. You can't take this anymore. Deciding to finally take matters into your own hands and end this for good, you go to your favourite bridge one last time to say your goodbyes to the world. Until someone stops you that is...

Warnings/Disclaimer: In no way do I mean to romanticise mental illness. Through this oneshot, I want to show depression and other mental heath issues for what they are. I will not sugar coat anything and will show them for how exhausting and painful they are. Again, I am not writing this to romanticise mental illness, rather provide comfort and create a safe space to talk about mental health. Remember, it's never too late to get help, and I'm always here for you. It can be as small as personally messaging me how you're feeling today, I'm here to listen :) This oneshot will obviously be talking about suicide, depression, obsession and mental health in general. If these topics trigger you, this oneshot may not be for you.

Suicide

Depression

Swearing

Mentions of Sexual Abuse

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Youtube Playlist

1:05  ───|────── 2:53

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*I've spent a few weeks on this, I'm sorry if there are spelling errors, I've read the entire thing maybe 5-6 times.

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Facing the window in front of you, you sighed. You felt numb. It was raining and was around 6 pm. It was cloudy outside and the rain made the sky a few shades darker than normal. One of your windows was opened and you could smell the rain. The earth smell that made you feel all giddy inside. Excitement used to bubble inside you whenever you recognized the familiar scent of the wet earth, it indicated that it was going to rain. You loved the rain. It felt so comforting and the sound of the raindrops calmed you. At least that's how it used to feel. Now, you feel numb. Unaware of your surroundings and unfazed by a natural phenomenon that once caused you joy.

You sighed looking outside. It was frustrating. The rain that once comforted you was now frustrating. The constant pitter-patter noises bothered you and you were unable to get anything done. You slammed the window shut with all the force you could muster and plopped yourself back on your chair, redirecting your attention to what was on the desk. Ahh right, you had homework to finish. The bright screen of your laptop burned your eyes and caused them to feel sore but you couldn't care less.

You had 2 essays due tomorrow and although that didn't sound like a lot it was just the tip of the iceberg. Not only did you have 2 essays to start (and finish on the same day), you also had an oral presentation you had to give tomorrow for your music class. You didn't have your presentation ready and you were presenting to over 50 other people.

You had everything you could have possibly wanted. Your parents were not too rich but you were quite well off with a duplex in a multi-story apartment. Your dad had a stable career and was the country manager of a company giving him a good amount of power. Your mother was a social butterfly and had many connections. They sent you to a private school and let you study what you wanted. Although you didn't have any close friends in school, you had a few people you sat with.

See? You had everything you could have possibly wanted but you were still miserable. You knew this wasn't normal. For the past few months, you felt numb. There wasn't a better word to describe it. You felt apathetic and unfazed by everything. You were slowly starting to lose interest in the things you once found thrilling and fun and felt disconnected from reality. Your own parents felt like strangers and you felt like you couldn't talk to them. In actuality, your parents were loving and provided you with everything you could have possibly wanted. They took really good care of you and regularly showed affection. They were also quite understanding and were easy-going and fun. The fact that your parents are so caring makes you feel all the more guilty about telling them. You can't tell anyone.

You huffed, running your hands through your hair roughly. You gripped the roots of your hair and began to feel it again. The feeling of darkness creeping into your mind.

"what's the point of this?"

"I want this to stop"

"When will it get better?"

"Does it ever get better?"

In all honesty, you felt hopeless. You had to begin and finish 2 whole essays and prepare your presentation. Listening to music, eating anything, or even taking a break were useless, they would just distract you. You chewed the end of your pencil enough to make the end of it dent. Your teeth hurt but you continued doing so. At least the physical pain would distract you from this crazy workload. Or so you thought... You began to type on your laptop. You were writing your mid-term paper and were given the freedom to pick whatever topic you wanted as long as you felt like it expressed your emotions.

You typed the first thing that came to mind.

"I want to escape. I keep wanting for this to stop, I keep expecting everything to get better. It never does. It's an endless cycle of work and just more work. I feel like a robot and in all honesty, the lack of emotion is the only thing I'm feeling"

Your face had a stoic expression as your fingers fluttered across the keyboard. The gentle noise of keys clicking was the only thing heard for another hour or so. You didn't take any breaks and just wanted to get it done. At this point, you didn't care if it was good or even decent, you just wanted to get it done. That was very unlike you though. You were no topper, but you considered yourself quite hardworking and diligent. You were slowly falling behind though, but you couldn't care less. You just wanted to get it over with.

In the essay you wrote, you didn't get too personal, you simply wrote about your feelings and personified them. You spoke about your feelings as if they were an obstacle in your way. Despite being quite specific, you made it seem as though you were not talking about yourself. You fixed up the grammar and printed out your paper, stapling it, ready to submit it tomorrow. You looked outside and by now it was way darker. It was around 8:30 and it was time for dinner.

You went downstairs to get your plate of dinner and greeted your mom.

"Y/n, you're finally here, I almost forgot you were even living in this house" She chuckled and your dad joined in. You didn't laugh though.

"Hey, cheer up, your mom was just kidding, is everything alright?" Your dad chimed in.

In all honesty, you knew your mom didn't mean it, she was just kidding, but mocking you for the amount of workload you had didn't seem right. The question by your dad, however, completely caught you off guard. In your heart, you knew you weren't. You noticed how you started drifting off and spacing out while someone was talking to you. You noticed how you stopped feeling joy and noticed how you never had time for anything but school. Your face was glued to the ground and you nodded. You didn't want to lie, but you couldn't help it. You'd feel guilty for possibly making them feel like it was their fault.

Your parents both just sighed and your mom held your hand. She brought you to sit at the dining table and looked at you with nothing but love in her eyes.

"Y/n... We know something is bothering you. You know you can tell us anything right?" Your mom asked as she cupped your cheek. You looked back up at her and saw both of your parents looking at you worriedly.

You could feel the back of your eyelids stinging. Your throat got dry and you felt a burning in your nose. This was it. This was your chance to finally tell them how you felt. You wanted to tell them everything. From how you felt incompetent, to the constant stress and pressure. You wanted to finally break down your walls and tell them that you lacked the feelings you felt before. But you couldn't. The lump in your throat grew and you felt the corners of your eyes getting wetter. You couldn't get any words out. You badly wanted to just let it all out, but the words were stuck in your throat.

You also couldn't just break down all of a sudden or they would get really worried. You couldn't let them watch you break down. You would never forgive yourself if they ever thought the way you were feeling was because of them.

You simply sucked in a deep breath of air and looked away before they noticed anything was wrong.

"I just have a lot of work. I have more to do though, so if you could excuse me." You said, your voice wavering as you walked away from them.

"What about your dinner?" Your mom asked pointing at the counter. You just sighed and picked up a plate of food. Your hands trembled and your lip quivered from the overwhelming situation and you rushed to your room as fast as you could. As soon as you left, your mom just sighed and looked at your dad and her face showed immense concern. He brought her into his warm embrace reassured her. You would come to them when the time was right. You would eventually tell them what was bothering you. right? Although you didn't want them to feel guilty, they already did.

The second you reached your room upstairs you locked the door behind you. You tossed the food into the dustbin near your desk and put the plate aside. You felt guilty. Every day your mom would make you a full course meal only for you to throw it away without even having a bite. You couldn't help it though. You had a lot of work to do and eating was not your first priority. Besides, you already had lunch. This was not a rare occurrence. You would usually skip breakfast and dinner, directly eating lunch. Your stomach growled but you couldn't care less.

You rushed into the bathroom in your room and closed the door behind you. Your back slid down the door and your hands flew to your face. You almost blew your cover. It was quite an overwhelming situation. Your hands covered your mouth as the first sob wracked through your body. You were lucky that you were in the bathroom, in your room, on the second floor, it was practically impossible for anyone to hear you.

Your hands moved up to your hair as you gripped it tightly in between your fingers. Slowly, more cries came out. The bathroom echoed with your sobs and heavy breathing. You tried muffling your cries to no avail. You sobbed loudly while you shoved your palm against your mouth trying to stop yourself from crying but nothing worked. You tried digging your fingernails into your palm to distract yourself from all the emotional pain with physical pain but it still didn't work.

You tried breathing steadily only to break out into sobs a few seconds later. You let out gut-wrenching sobs that had been bottled up for too long now. Your throat was raw and your nose was red.

"Make it stop" You whispered to yourself. Were you being dramatic? Were you overreacting? You didn't know and you didn't care. Your sobs slowly died down but your hands were still clamped over your mouth trying to get them to stop completely.

After a few minutes, you went to wash your face. You noticed your eyes were red and your hair was not in a bun anymore but was now all over the place. You sighed and washed your face with cold water trying to remove any traces of that sudden breakdown. Besides, you just wasted around 20 minutes of your time, crying when you could have been working and finishing off your other essay.

You didn't care to change your clothes and sat back on your desk. You sighed and looked out the window again. The rain had died down and there was now just a cool breeze. A layer of mist had collected after the rain coating the trees and plants outside. Despite living in the city, your window faced a big green space. In the mornings there were usually only around 3 people at max, making it quite empty. At night it was even more serene and lonely.

You drew shapes on your windows while trying to think of a topic to write your essay about. Your second essay was supposed to be an analysis report about any experiment of your choice.

You chose to write about the expectancy-value theory.

The Expectancy Value Theory suggests that motivation for a given behavior or action is determined by two factors: (i) expectancy, ie, how probable it is that a wanted (instrumental) outcome is achieved through the behavior or action; (ii) value, ie, how much the individual values the desired outcome.

You scoffed as you read it. Lies. All you've been taught to do is the work you've been given in school. You didn't want to do it. You didn't find it interesting and you couldn't care less about failing if it was up to you. The only reason you were working was because school wanted you to. If you had the option, you would gladly stop. So no, the expectancy-value theory, in your mind was not correct, since for some people, ie. you, motivation didn't come from yourself, rather it came in the form of forced requirements from others. Others have high expectations and expect good quality work from you, but if you were given the choice, you would take care of yourself instead of focussing so much on your studies. The expectancy theory, in your mind, as false as the only thing influencing you to work was other people forcing you.

You decided that was the perfect thesis for your essay and began to write. Although the point of the essay was to discuss the findings of the experiment, you went in a different direction. You wrote your entire essay about disproving that stupid experiment. You didn't discuss the data results but instead countered them with your own data. After another hour or so of aggressive typing and writing shit about Martin Fishbein, you decided you were finally done and decided to finish off your essay. You were happy with the way it turned out, although it was certainly not what was asked of you.

You wrapped up your essay by simply restating your points and you printed that too. By this point, it was already 11 pm and although you weren't sleepy, you just wanted to get this over with and rest. Your final task for tomorrow was your music presentation. All you had to do was pick your favorite classical piece and write a bit about it.

Music was one of the only hobbies you liked. You took pride in composing and making music, however, your school had ruined it for you. The only things they made you do were to analyze pieces of music and discuss the elements of music and their implication. You never got to actually compose or make your own music so you started to dread it as a subject too.

You picked up the first piece that came to mind. Dvorak's 'Humoresque'. Wow, how original, you thought. You began to listen to the piece and understand it better. As a kid, this used to be your favorite piece. Now? It just feels bland. It doesn't feel the way it used to. You began scribbling a few quick points about the song before beginning your presentation.

After taking notes, you finally began working on your presentation. In total, it took around 4 hours to finish and it was exactly 4 am. You sighed and uploaded your presentation to a pen drive before packing up your bag for school.

You had to be up for school by 7 anyway, so you'd get 2-3 hours of sleep at max. You hopped into bed as soon as you were done, not caring about putting anything back or even changing your clothes.

Unfortunately, unlike you hoped, you weren't able to fall asleep as soon as your head crashed onto the pillow. Instead, your mind preoccupied with other things was way too clouded with stressful thoughts to let you relax enough to fall asleep.

You tossed and turned in bed as your stomach growled. You huffed and tried blocking out the feeling. You didn't regret skipping dinner, it was necessary to finish off your work. You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to sleep. You lied for at least 10 minutes simply doing nothing. You tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing worked. Your mind was simply too preoccupied to let you rest. you closed your eyes trying to calm yourself, only for your thoughts to go back to yesterday evening. You remembered the short conversation with your parents and how they seemed genuinely concerned. Did they know what was happening to you? They were your parents, after all, they probably figured something was wrong.

Thinking about your relationship with them, you felt guilty. You realized how your conversations were never longer than 5-10 minutes and you were always the one to cut them short. You didn't spend as much time with them as you used to, instead of dedicating all your time to studying.

All of a sudden, you remembered how they used to take care of you when you were a child. You remembered the first time they taught you how to ride a bike, your first day of school, and your middle school graduation. You can't remember the last time you all were together as a family and enjoyed yourselves. You were usually too busy and you regretted it.

Unconsciously, you sniffled, your eyes getting watery again. You huffed, roughly wiping and rubbing your eyes, embarrassed that all it took for you to get emotional was a few memories. You sighed shakily, trying to get your thoughts away from that, or else you knew you'd have another breakdown. Still not being able to fall asleep for another 45 minutes, you gave up.

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You got up and checked your phone, only to see that the time was 6:30 am. How perfect. You didn't bother combing your hair and tied a messy bun, too tired and too unbothered to even attempt to look decent. You hopped into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and grabbing a towel. You looked back into the mirror as you did yesterday during your mini breakdown. You had dark circles under your eyes, your eyes were red and your nose was tinted pink. You couldn't care less though.

You hopped into the shower and turned the temperature to max coldness, trying to wake yourself up to make yourself look less tired and well... less dead. You shivered at the temperature but bared it for the sake of looking slightly presentable and more awake.

You grabbed your soap and began to lather some on your hands. A few seconds later though, you felt a mild stinging sensation on both of your palms. You quickly washed away the soap as it was starting to burn and inspected your hands. Your palms. They were bruised and cut slightly. You stared at your palms and the crescent-shaped cuts on both of your palms. There were exactly 4 crescent-shaped cuts on each palm with a bunch of bruising around it. You realized it was from digging your fingernails into your palms yesterday. You did so in an attempt to stop crying but it didn't work. Oh well, now you have this to worry about as well, could your life get any worse? You made sure to carefully lather on the soap being wary of the cuts on your palms.

After you took a bath and got ready, you made sure to double-check that you had packed both your essays and the presentation pen drive. After confirming, you grabbed your backpack and hurried downstairs. Although you felt guilty for randomly rushing out during dinner, you didn't want to confront your parents. The nerves from your upcoming presentation were creeping up onto you and you were beyond terrified. You didn't feel hungry and didn't want any confrontation.

You quickly hurried down the stairs and avoided your parents' eyes. At this point, it had become regular for you to leave the house without a word. Your mom wouldn't bother too much since she knew you'd usually buy yourself something to eat at school itself. Or so she thought. It was a lie you told her a long time ago. Despite this, due to your unfinished conversation yesterday you feared they would come after you or confront you so you avoided them at all costs and rushed outside. Lucky for you, your parents didn't mind too much and carried on with what they were doing.

Outside, you noticed how the mist from yesterday had settled and was now fogging up the roads slightly. The mist collected on the grass on the side of the sidewalks in the form of dewdrops and you could smell the same earthy smell. You checked your phone once to get a glimpse of the time and realized you were quite early. Despite this, you still couldn't calm your nerves.

You gripped both straps of your backpack, not lifting your head. You stared at the ground kicking small pebbles along your way. The entire walk to school was quite uneventful and not too interesting. You mainly stayed on the same side of the sidewalk and luckily nothing came in your way. It was a 5-7 minute walk to school since you lived quite close to school and didn't see the point in wasting gas.

Once you reached your school, you tried ignoring everyone in your way, just trying to submit your essays. You were quite nervous and just wanted to remove some burden from your shoulders so submitting your essays early in the morning would be the best option. You rushed into the school building immediately setting your target on your science class that was a few floors up.

Fortunately, the hallways and stairways were mostly empty with just a few teachers and staff and maybe 5-7 students. That was one of the perks of being this early, you could get things done freely without being rushed by the students. You decided to stop at the principles office first, and then drop off your science essay.

You had to drop off your mid-term essay outside the principles office where a few teachers were collecting them. You made your way to the outside of your principal's office to drop off your paper. While walking there, the pace of your heart quickened, although you were simply dropping off your essay, something about being this close to the principles office didn't sit right with you. As you got closer you could feel the tingly feeling in your stomach, caused by the nerves. You carefully walked right in front of the drop-off desk and greeted the teacher. You were asked to fill in your name and the date dropped off, so you were handed a pen.

You were mindful not to let the pen put pressure against the cuts in your palm, but couldn't help but wince softly as the pen brushed against them as you picked it up. The teacher simply looked at you and you forced a smile. As soon as you dropped off your essay, you rushed away from there as soon as possible to a less scary area.

You made your way to your science class and dropped off your essay about expectancy value and took your seat in class. You were quite proud of the essay you wrote since you felt like you portrayed your opinion quite well. You also had science first period anyways, so you took your usual seat near the window in the front of the class and started to unpack.

You waited for at least 10 to 15 minutes before your science teacher came into class. He wasn't surprised that you were early since you usually came quite early. When you noticed he entered class, you immediately averted eye contact and looked somewhere else. In all honesty, your science teacher scared you.

All the other girls gushed over how he was just 5 or 6 years older than you and was handsome. You didn't see what they saw in him as you knew he had ulterior motives. You noticed the blatant sexism in class and how he always paid more attention to the girls, explaining it to them in detail while just brushing off the guys. You noticed how whenever everyone left class, he would stare at the exposed legs of the female students caused by the knee-length skirt that was a part of the school uniform. You noticed how he would favor the girls in general, letting them have their way, even letting them use their phones in class from time to time.

Although he hadn't made any advances, he was still really sleazy in general, and the very thought of him creeped you out. You didn't have too many personal encounters with him, just a few weird looks here and there, so you tried to avoid him as much as you could. When he noticed that you were not paying attention to him he sighed and collected his things. Usually, he would simply leave you alone, knowing school would start soon, but since the both of you were quite early he tried making conversation.

"Hey Y/n, Good morning!" He said all of a sudden. You whipped your head up, surprised that he was talking to you since he had never done so before.

"Hi" You hesitantly replied making sure to not seem too nervous, but also look a little busy so he would leave you alone.

"How's everything going? Are you feeling okay?" Although you knew he asked you that question simply wanting to ask you how you were feeling, you couldn't help but think to last night when you had a similar conversation with your parents.

"U-um, I'm fine, yeah, I'm good" You stuttered, diverting your attention elsewhere indicating you were done with the conversation.

He simply sighed and sat back down on top of his desk. He noticed that you had submitted your science essay/report and decided to read a bit of it before class started hopefully to give you someone on one feedback.

He picked up the paper and the rustling of the pages alerted you. You looked back at him only to notice that he was reading your essay. You felt nauseous and giddy all of a sudden. He wasn't supposed to be reading your essay now, especially in front of you. Your mouth got dry and you tried to calm yourself. You looked away so he wouldn't notice your stare as he continued reading for the next 2 or 3 minutes.

You looked back at him from time to time and noticed how his eyebrows were scrunched. You saw his somewhat disappointed expression and your stomach dropped. Was your essay not okay? Was he going to fail you? Your breaths got shallower and you looked around trying to calm yourself. All of a sudden, your science teacher spoke.

"Y/n, this was not what was asked of you" He stated matter-of-factly. You felt frustrated and embarrassed and your heart was in your throat. You tried clearing your throat to be able to speak. You looked back up at him, finally making eye contact, and gulped.

"I don't- I don't understand, I did what was-" You finally got out, only to be interrupted by him again.

"No, you didn't. It seems like you're disproving the experiment instead of proving it true. Meet me after class, we can discuss how to fix it." He stated, looking at you with a distressed smile. You forced back a smile and quickly looked away.

Eventually, students began to fill up the class and around 10 minutes after that dreadful conversation, the class had finally started. Unfortunately for you, you kept spacing out and couldn't pay attention to what was being taught due to your mind lingering on your stupid science essay. You began to think it was your fault. Maybe you hadn't studied hard enough? Maybe you just weren't smart enough? You put your head down and proceeded to bear the next 85 minutes or so, absentmindedly.

Luckily for you, your teacher hadn't called on you even once. He simply kept teaching and asking other students questions. You noticed how he tried to make jokes from time to time while all the girls giggled, and although your head was down, you knew he most likely had a smug smile on his face. You scoffed and kept getting lost in your thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, you finally through the class.

Now, it was time to finally confront your science teacher after class and you were not looking forward to it. You acted as if you were packing your bag so the other students wouldn't suspect anything. The last thing you wanted was for them to think you were spending time outside class with your science doing god knows what.

After everyone left, you sat back at your desk and waited for him to call on you, or notice you hoping, to get this over with as soon as possible. He grabbed your paper again and went through it again. You sighed and looked down. He slowly shifted his gaze towards you and ushered for you to grab a chair and sit next to his desk.

You huffed and picked up your chair dragging it to his desk. You plopped it down and took a seat on it. He sighed and brought his chair next to yours sitting on it as well. He began to explain that the experiment that he expected was a 'scientific' one with tangible results instead of a "social experiment" to quote directly. You huffed getting annoyed, how could he say that psychological studies weren't as valid? They were equally important. You sighed and looked away getting frustrated.

He wanted to explain it better, and went to get his pen that was next to you. Instead of asking you to give it to him, like a normal person, he rested his hand on your knee, reaching over to get it. On the outside, you kept your cool but inside you were freaking out. You glared daggers at his hand which was on your knee and didn't lift your gaze, as if staring at his hand was going to make him take it off.

Even after he reached over and got his pen, his hand was still on your thigh. He began to talk about some random experiment but you weren't paying attention. Why wasn't he taking his hand off you? You tried adjusting and moving your leg, crossing them over, to get him to let go, but his grip was firm.

"Hey, Y/n are you listening?" He clarified all of a sudden. You slowly pulled your gaze away from your knee and looked him dead in the eye. You glared at him, indicating you didn't want this. Despite this, he just didn't know when to stop, did he?

"Hey, calm down, what's wrong?" He asked sincerely. If only his actions reflected the same care, you knew he knew what he was doing. In an attempt to calm you down, his hand moved further up, grasping your thigh. You gasped and looked up at him with your mouth agape.

"Let go." You said sternly, you knew he was your teacher but he had to know his limits.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that, it's alright," He said, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter. No, this was most definitely not okay. Due to the thin fabric of your school uniform skirt, you could feel his hand completely. You scrunched your eyebrows in disgust as you tried scooting backward. He got up though, towering over your shorter figure. You tried pulling away only for him to grip tighter.

"I didn't do anything" He stated firmly, grasping your wrist. He held your wrist tightly, not letting go. You cowered under him, still trying to pull yourself away.

"You don't want this?" He asked shamelessly. You shook your head rapidly, tears stinging in your eyes. He scoffed, roughly releasing your arm. You sighed, instantly getting as far away from him as possible, grabbing your backpack. You quickly shoved your remaining stationery in the first zip you found and threw your backpack over your shoulder, rushing out.

As you were about to leave though you heard him speak up again.

"Do not speak of this to anyone. I'm afraid I will have to fail you for this paper" He said trying to make you feel guilty. You couldn't care less though, without looking back, you nodded your head and left the class.

You cleared your throat as it had closed up. You realized you were crying in the middle of the hallway, so you quickly rushed to the toilet. Luckily, no one saw you, but you still wanted to get away, to freshen yourself up. You splashed water on your face trying to forget what happened in class a few minutes ago.

After that terrifying incident with your science teacher, the rest of the day was quite uneventful. You eventually got through your other subjects including music, and your presentation was a disaster. You weren't able to pay attention to what you were saying since your mind was still in different places. You stuttered your words and kept repeating the same thing.

Your peers realized you were distracted and your teacher knew you were bothered since your presentations were usually quite clear and informative. Thus, this time, they decided to let you off the hook. You were thankful that no one commented on that crappy presentation and simply went back to your seat.

Since you had music for the last period itself you were able to call it a day right after. You decided to skip your after-school commitment since you simply had too much on your mind.

After that shitty day, you decided to try to get your mind off of it by taking a walk in the green space near your apartment. You knew that it would mostly be empty right now as it was a weekday and because it was almost 4 pm, meaning it would most likely rain again.

You were still 5 minutes away from home, so you decided to walk home to the green space nearby. The entire walk there was quite silent. You took this time to try to process and understand the emotions you were feeling. It was getting fairly chilly due to the cold breeze, wind, and mist blowing. You folded both of your arms, rubbing them up and down, trying to get rid of the coldness.

The walk was quite short and you reached there in no time. Since the green area was right in front of your apartment, you could see your window from it. As soon as you reached, you saw your car leaving the apartment. Peeking around the corner, you realized it was your car. Your dad must have just left to go see your grandparents. You tried to hide a little, just in case. If your mom saw you here she would be disappointed that you lied to your dad about meeting your teacher after school.

You found a bench that faced away from your window just in case, so no one from your apartment could see your face. By the time, you found a good spot and settled and sat down, it was around 4:30 pm. You didn't really have a reason for coming to the park. You simply wanted to get your mind off of school, the workload, the stress, and what happened in the morning, so now that you were here, you didn't know what to do. Fortunately, tomorrow was slightly lighter. You didn't have any assessments due tomorrow, but you wanted to check in with your peers to ask them what you missed in the after-school session today and revise that before tomorrow.

Other than that though, you didn't know what to do. Due to this, you ended up spacing out. You simply sat on the bench rubbing your knees from the freezing wind from time to time just staring into the abyss. Quite honestly, it didn't feel forced, awkward or uncomfortable, it felt... calming. You felt a lot of comfort in the fact that you could just take time to process everything. Your way of doing that? Sitting out in the cold breeze, staring at nothing, mind blank. It didn't feel like a waste of time and you definitely didn't regret spending your time gazing at the nature.

Ever since you were young, you had a habit of counting the birds in trees or on the ground. Today was no different. Now that you were out in the nature, it made it easier to count them. You didn't do it for any particular reason, it was just a way of coping and de-stressing. You sat for a good 2 hours just observing everything around you and not doing anything. This included counting birds, staring into nothingness, daydreaming, and spacing out. You were suddenly interrupted by a honking car nearby.

You checked the time and realized it was 6 already. You freaked out and instantly got up, picking your bag. You didn't even realize it had started to drizzle and your sweater/school uniform started collecting water in the form of small droplets. You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your back, walking home, which was just a minute away, right opposite the park. You looked around making sure nobody saw you. Although you quite liked sitting out and simply doing nothing, you could understand how other people might have thought you were absolutely crazy for sitting out and doing nothing for 2 and a half hours.

You sighed looking around. You didn't want to go home just yet and didn't have anywhere else to go. The rain started getting a little heavier and you just gave up, looking up at the sky. Your clothes instantly clung to your figure and you shivered at the coldness.

You decided to take a walk around the nearby neighborhood since you didn't have anywhere else to go. This was actually quite rare. You usually never had the time to come outside and think about your life or reflect on anything as you were always cooped up in your bedroom doing work.

You huffed, rubbing your hands together. By now, your hair and clothes were drenched and your face was covered in water drops. You decided to visit the Mapo bridge to view the Han river from above. Ever since childhood, it was one of your favorite places as you were able to see the Han river below you, the Yeongdeungpo district to your left, and the Mapo district to your right. It had always been a calming sight.

It would take around 10-15 minutes to get there by car from your house but since you didn't really have access to a car right now, you had to walk. You knew it would take at least 45 minutes to get there but you still didn't care.

Unlike the two hours you spent at the park doing literally nothing, this felt different. You thought about the events happening in your life over the past few days, weeks, and months deciding to reflect on them during your journey.

You thought about your parents. How they always welcomed you with open arms while you often gave them the cold shoulder. You felt guilty that was for sure.

You thought about your friends. You had no close friends and the ones you had were slowly starting to drift away. You hadn't sat with them or even talked to them in over 2 weeks.

You thought about your studies. How you always stayed up late doing homework and taking notes while it never paid out. Instead, your crappy work just got you in more trouble.

You thought about the incident with your teacher today. How he touched you inappropriately and gripped your thigh. You shivered, pulling your skirt down slightly.

Unconsciously, tears had started to fall from your eyes. Luckily it was raining so nobody noticed anything too out of place. Despite this, you definitely got some weird stares. At first, the tears were silent. Your face was stoic while tears poured out of your eyes. Eventually though, recalling the painful memories and feelings was too much and your eyebrows furrowed. Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to contain your cries. It started off as light whimpers and occasional gasps.

You rubbed at your eyes and felt yourself losing control. Your cries got louder and you had to clasp a hand over your mouth. At this point, you didn't really care about anything else in the world and were overwhelmed by pain.

You threw your backpack onto some random chair god knows where, and continued walking. No without your backpack you felt freer, and both your hands flew to your face, as you walked in the cold rain.

Meanwhile, you had reached Mapo bridge and began to walk across the pedestrian section. Since it was raining, almost no one was on the bridge and you could finally let your emotions out freely. Your gasps got louder and you let out a strangled sob. Your hands flew to your face trying to cover it up, only for it to be followed by more cries.

As you walked to the middle of the bridge, stumbling across your steps not paying attention to what you were doing. You read the signs on the bridge.

"많이 힘들었구나" (It must be very hard)

"잘 지내지" (How are you)

"파란 하늘을 봐 봐" (Look at the blue sky)

They were mocking you. It was hard, you were not okay and nothing could make this pain better. Your eyes unconsciously closed your eyes and you let out a string of sobs. You choked on your tears, covering your face with your hands sobbing into them.

You rubbed at your eyes but nothing would stop this pain. You looked up at the Han river and thought for a moment. You looked down over the railing of the bridge and noticed the drop.

This was your chance. This was your chance to let go of all your pain and finally be free.

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Yunho was out with his friends. It was a rainy day and he had just gotten back from practice. On rainy days such as this one, he would often simply go on a drive with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung. They were the three that enjoyed the rain and loved going on long drives. Their building was in Mapo but they decided to take a drive over to Yeongdeungpo since they had the rest of the day off.

The Mapo bridge was actually quite empty today. There weren't any cars or any people on the bridge. Since this was quite a rare occurrence, they decided to savor the moment and drive slowly enjoying their playlist while listening to the rain.

Wooyoung was driving while Seonghwa and Yunho were in the back, eating snacks and Hongjoong was picking a playlist. After popping a gummy bear in his mouth, Yunho decided to look outside and observe the Han river. All of a sudden though, around a hundred meters in front of their car near the left railing, a moving figure caught his eye. He was surprised that anyone would be out in the rain at this time. As they got slightly closer he realized they didn't have an umbrella either. As the car got even closer he realized that the figure was a girl. Your hair was drenched and so were your clothes. He stared at you weirdly wondering what on earth you were doing. You simply slid down the railing sitting on the floor, sobbing your eyes out and Yunho's eyes widened. He realized you were crying as your entire body was shaking with sobs and your hands were over your face.

He suddenly felt the urge to help and spoke up.

'Woo, slow the car for one second" He whispered softly and Wooyoung simply looked back and Yunho shrugging. He obliged and slowed down the speed of the car. Yunho continued to observe you. He didn't want to get out of the car since it was raining and he didn't have an umbrella but continued to watch you.

He watched the way your hands came up from your face and you gripped the roots of your hair. He watched how you tried to cover up your cries by cupping your hand over your mouth from time to time only for your to cry harder as your eyes squinted shut.

While they were driving past slowly, everyone was minding their own business while Yunho was still staring at you. Hongjoong had realized how Yunho was giggly before and then became silent all of a sudden and decided to check up on him. Hongjoong looked up at Yunho from the rear mirror, only to find his gaze locked on something outside. Hongjoong followed his gaze and found you as well. He saw that you were crying and stayed silent not knowing what to do.

Yunho was still looking at you and didn't notice how his leader was now also intrigued. He noticed how you roughly rubbed at your eyes getting up. He thought that you were done crying and that this was just a mini breakdown. Besides, everyone had bad days and maybe your way of letting it out was crying in the rain. Hongjoong averted his eyes as he saw you get up, giving you some privacy while Yunho kept his gaze locked on you.

He noticed how you were now facing the railing and looking out at the river. All of a sudden though, he saw you take off your shoes and a sudden wave of urgency washed over him.

"Stop the car!" He yelled at Wooyoung, while everyone in the car visibly flinched at his sudden voice, looking at him with concern. Wooyoung abruptly stopped the car, causing everyone to jerk slightly. The door immediately flew open and Yunho ran out of the car not caring whether his clothes got wet. Seonghwa had gasped and scooted to Yunho's side, peeking through, looking at what was going on.

Meanwhile, Yunho's intuition was correct. He knew something was wrong and the second you took off your shoes, he knew what you were trying to do. After you took off your shoes, you firmly grasped the railing of the bridge, hoisting yourself up, to sit on it. You looked around you, making sure no one was watching, although you didn't care at this point. Your mind was made up.

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You slowly scooted to the end of the railing, your hand tightly gripping the railing. You looked down, all that was below you was a 60-foot drop and lots of water. You sighed out shakily and looked back one last time. Your hands slowly let go and you breathed in a deep breath of air. You looked up at the sky and let out a wave of sobs before pushing yourself off the railing.

You expected to immediately feel the cold breeze hitting you as you fell over the bridge but you didn't. Instead, you felt a strong force pulling you backward.

The back of your head roughly collided with the concrete ground of the bridge and you let out a yelp. You looked around you processing your surroundings. You expected to be in the water by now, taking your final breaths. Instead, you were still back on the bridge and you fell back instead of forward.

You looked around suddenly, gripping the back of your head wanting to know who or what the fuck stopped you from doing so. Although you were mad you couldn't help but cry.

You sat up on the ground, knees close to your chest as you covered your hands and sobbed. You let out such painful cries, guttural noises, filled with pain. You cried, each cry letting out more sorrow than the last.

Little did you know, someone was scanning all your actions on the side, not knowing how to process the situation that just happened. He just witnessed someone who almost committed suicide.

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The second, he realized you took off your shoes, he knew that you were going to jump. It was a common occurrence, especially on this bridge. His intuition was proven correct when he saw you hoist yourself onto the railing. You were going to jump.

His body was moving on its own at that point and kicked the door open, rushing out as fast as possible. He didn't care about his clothes or his very expensive shoes, keeping only one goal in mind. As you scooted closer to the edge of the railing his heart stopped. He sprinted to the railing as fast as he could, almost slipping along the way. He roughly wrapped his big arms around your waist and he yanked you backward. He fell back onto the bridge and let go of your waist, catching his won fall, while you simply fell backward with force.

As you broke down in front of him, he felt a stinging in his heart. By now, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had also stepped out of the car with an umbrella, a little more cautious as they stood near the car itself, giving you a little space.

Yunho decided to slowly make a move to check up on you. He called out softly, but you didn't hear him.

"Excuse me?" He asked carefully, bottom lip caught in between his teeth from nervousness. You couldn't hear him over the rain and your sobs and frankly didn't care about anything else but the overwhelming pain in your heart.

He looked around nervously, before lifting a hand. He hesitantly brought it closer to you, doubting whether to touch you. He was wondering if you'd be comfortable, but he really wanted to help. He resorted to gently tapping your shoulder with his hands to alert you of his presence.

The second you felt his touch you immediately flinched, not noticing another person's presence. You looked up at him, before clasping your hand over your mouth. Although you knew that it was futile at this point, you still tried your best to cover up your sobs. You let out a string of sobs before squeezing your eyes shut and muttering apologies nonstop.

You kept stopping yourself with your cries but continued to whisper apologies. Yunho's eyes widened as he rapidly shook his head. Why on earth were you apologizing to him? As you looked up at him he noticed how strands of your wet hair clung to your face, your swollen and red eyes as well as your pink-tinted nose. He knew you must have been crying for a long time as your eyes reflected nothing but pain as they were completely bloodshot.

"Hey, hey, hey, I've got you" He whispered as he started patting your back. You nodded as you scooted closer. At this point, you didn't care how you were acting, simply trying to process what was happening. You pulled yourself together trying to get words out.

"May, I lean on you?" You softly whispered, voice breaking in the middle. Yunho hesitantly agreed, opening his arms up for you. You broke down again. You knew that you had been crying a lot that day, and maybe you were overreacting a bit, but in the heat of the moment, you simply couldn't stop.

You leaned into his warm chest taking in his musky scent that was slowly being washed away by the rain as he slowly crept a hand up to your back, rubbing it up and down.

"I'm here, I've got you, You're alright" He whispered into your hair. He knew you weren't in the right mind, but let you have your way just for now. You scrunched his now wet hoodie in your smaller fists as you tried to regain your composure.

You pulled away from a little embarrassed and looked away, knowing very well that he had already seen you, so there was no point. Yunho scooted further a little embarrassed too.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked softly and you shook your head, looking back up at him. You were surprised to see that his nose was slightly pink and his eyelashes were glistening in tears too. You felt guilty and apologized, a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," You said all of a sudden, and he shook his head rapidly.

"No, please don't apologize. I can't even begin to imagine the pain you must be in to want to take your own life." He whispered the last part, still not wanting to agitate you. You nodded and backed away. Yunho suddenly then realized the situation he was in, it was raining and the coldness was starting to get to him, he couldn't even imagine how much pain you must have been in to completely feel numb to it.

"It's raining and it's cold outside, do you want to sit inside our car, we have a heater" He interjected all of a sudden. You got nervous all of a sudden not knowing how to respond.

"I- I- can't-, I'm not sure" You stuttered your words and he noticed your discomfort, trying to divert the topic.

"Do you have anywhere else to go?" He asked looking at you sincerely and you shook your head. You couldn't go home like this. You averted your gaze while he tried to come up with a solution that you were comfortable with. All of a sudden though, you spoke up.

"Where are you going?" You asked and he tried to come up with a comforting answer real quick, one that would convince you to go with them.

"We are just heading to Yeongdeungpo, would you be interested in tagging along?" He asked sincerely. Your grandparents lived there, and you knew they would welcome you without asking questions, so you could go stay at theirs if you wanted to, so you nodded your head.

"Are you sure?" He confirmed with you and you nodded.

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It was safe to say the car ride there was anything but comfortable. You were in a car full of strangers wherein 2 of you were soaking wet.

"What on earth were you thinking?" One of them asked you all of a sudden, and you noticed the male who was with you earlier glared daggers back at them.

"I- um, I didn't- I'm not-" You kept fumbling over your words.

"She's not obligated to answer that." The man from earlier said sternly. You mumbled a thank you and continued to look outside. A few more minutes of silence passed as he tried to break the awkward silence.

"I never got your name by the way," He said all of a sudden, and without looking back you answered.

"Y/n," You said, cutting the conversation short. You weren't in the mood to talk. The other male nodded and introduced himself and the others.

"Well, I'm Yunho, this is Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung" He pointed at them but you didn't look at them, simply nodding, facing the other direction. Through the side mirror of the car, you noticed the boy in the front, the one that had slightly longer hair in the back, and was significantly shorter, glaring at Yunho. You assumed they were not comfortable introducing their identities just yet and you were okay with that.

Most of the car ride was quiet. You let out occasional sighs and whimpers due to the cold but there were no other comments or conversations.

Halfway through the ride though, the boy from earlier, the one who asked you what you were doing on the bridge, Seonghwa, spoke up again.

"Are you okay though?" He trailed off at the end. The other three boys looked at him with wide eyes, presumably glaring, telling him off, when you suddenly cut those thoughts off.

"I don't know" You answered sincerely. In all honestly, nobody had expected you to speak up, so when you did, they were all ears. You sighed before continuing.

"Everything is just so hard on me" You sighed out, as your voice broke at the end of the sentence. You decided that was enough or else you knew you wouldn't be able to stop if you said more. Although your answer was somewhat ambiguous, they didn't want to pressure you.

They all just nodded trying not to make it seem like a big issue. You noticed how Yunho sighed silently next to you before scooting closer to you. This didn't go unnoticed by you. His knees made contact with your fingers which were on either side of you, on the seat, and you looked back up at him questioningly.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? I'm all ears, you don't have to worry about feeling vulnerable. In all honesty, it's best to let your feelings out. You seem like the type to bottle everything up, but you clearly have a lot on your mind, you can tell me if you're comfortable." He whispered sincerely, only of you to hear. You were still looking into his eyes, and unconsciously tears started welling up in your eyes again at the sincerity and care in his voice. You had never told anyone about your problems and this was your chance. A tear slipped down your cheek and you roughly wiped at it, scoffing softly.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me today" You let out a soft breathy laugh, but the both of you knew it was not funny. He looked at you sternly, faux anger on his face as he felt frustrated that you were treating yourself this way, frustrated that you were reducing yourself to an emotionless robot.

"Don't say that. Emotions are what make you human, you don't need to feel embarrassed." He said and you nodded, slowly scooting closer to him. He didn't mind. Although the proximity was making him a little nervous, he was trying his best to comfort you.

He decided to test the waters by putting his arm around you. He slowly and slyly snaked his arm behind your back, since you were leaning forwards and slowly made contact with the small of your back. When he noticed that you were comfortable with it, he tried putting a little pressure to pull you closer and you went with the flow. You leaned into him, with your head on his shoulder, as one of his arms was around you. You both needed the warmth anyways as you were freezing. It was silent for a bit before you decided to speak up.

"My science teacher molested me." You said breathily. His eyes widened as he tried pulling away from you. With this new bit of information, he realized that the close proximity of you two could be making you nervous. He wasn't able to pull away though since your back was flush against the back of the seat, and you didn't seem too uncomfortable so he decided to keep it there. He rubbed your back up and down urging you to continue.

"I don't- I'm not sure what I did wrong. I disproved the experiment instead of verifying it and he got mad." You paused and took in a shaky breath of air. At this point, your voice sounded pathetically weak and vulnerable but you knew only Yunho could hear you since you were whispering to him, so you had nothing to worry about. He just let out a hum into your hair as you continued.

"He called me to stay after class the discuss the paper and I stayed. I fucking stayed. I stayed despite knowing his sleazy ass would try to pull something on me. After all the students left he called me over to his desk..." You stopped yourself off as you felt your voice wavering. At this point, Yunho could feel his stomach doing flips just thinking about the situation you were in. The fact that it seemed like you were blaming yourself made him feel even worse. Nonetheless, you continued.

"He grabbed my knee and then my thigh and when I told him to let go, he didn't. He even had the audacity to ask me whether I wanted to go further. When I said no, he- he said I would fail. This is all my fault, what the fuck is wrong with me." You let out breathily into Yunho's wet hoodie. His heart broke when he heard you blaming yourself, you couldn't be further from the truth.

"Hey, please don't blame yourself. You have no reason to blame yourself, Y/n. You put your heart into that essay and he didn't like it because his narrow-minded brain couldn't accept new ideas. Furthermore, I'm sure he only used it as an excuse to hurt you. I'm sure your essay was great, and please don't blame yourself for him touching you. What he did was wrong and is all his fault." He paused finally, a little breathless from rambling. You nodded thinking he was done, only for him to continue speaking.

"I'm going to give you my number... Feel free to call me after today, I want to help you. I want to help you speak your side and arrest your science teacher for he did to you" You mumbled a soft okay as you leaned deeper into his embrace.

"I shouldn't feel like this" You suddenly said. Yunho had assumed the conversation was over when you told him about your science teacher but regardless he was ready to listen, no matter what it was.

"Why?" He asked sincerely, ready to scold you again for putting yourself down for having emotions.

"I have loving parents. I study at a good school. I usually get decent grades. I have 2-3 friends who I talk to sometimes. My family can afford the resources I need to feel content. Then why the fuck do I feel like this?" You asked more to yourself than Yunho and he knew this, but he had an answer.

"So?" He countered, waiting for a reaction from you but you had none.

"Even the most privileged people are not happy hun. Satisfaction and content come from within. You may have everything you need but still not feel satisfied with yourself. Is there anything about yourself that is bothering you?" He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows. What he was saying made a lot of sense...

"You- I-, I guess... I feel stressed all the time, and I'm not happy with the work I produce since I'm stressed and overwhelmed, but how did you know-"

"How do I know?" He interrupted you while you looked at him with wide eyes.

"Because I've felt the exact same way a few years ago." Now it was your turn to be shocked.

"I'm training to be an idol and I spent countless nights practicing my dancing and singing, but I never felt happy with my skills. I always thought I could get better, and that led to a sort of addiction. I stayed up late at our studio practicing and my sleep schedule was fucked up." You chuckled breathily at his word choice and how he let a curse word slip in. He noticed and smiled back down at you.

"When I finally understood and accepted the problem I got better. My mental health took a turn for the better and I was more proud of my accomplishments. Besides, I consider myself a decent singer now" He laughed at the end as you joined him.

"I'm proud of you for reaching your goal and bettering yourself," You said honestly as you patted his chest.

"I just hope I can fix myself one day too." You said honestly.

"I'm sure you will be able to. It takes time and perseverance, so please never give up. You're a beautiful, talented, and valuable person, never doubt yourself." He said and you nodded in his embrace.

That's where the conversation ended for now. The silence was not awkward at all. Instead, it was quite comforting as you had a lot to think about and process. Yunho's words definitely shifted the way you looked at life.

Yunho got a little more confident and trailed his arm upwards of your back and into your wet hair. He ran his hands through your wet hair as you scooted closer to him. He gently rubbed his hands across your scalp relaxing you. Despite him being a stranger, from the way he listened to you, saved your life, and comforted you, you knew he was someone you could trust.

Meanwhile, the boy in the front, Hongjoong looked through the rear mirror, looking at the position you and Yunho were in. He and Yunho suddenly made eye contact through the mirror, and Yunho got nervous, his eyes widening as he realized his leader had seen the position he was in, but that went away as he realized Hongjoong was smiling back at him with a soft smile across his face.

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Unknowingly, you had fallen asleep in Yunho's arms. When Hongjoong realized you fell asleep he patted Seonghwa's shoulder pointing to the two of you. You had fallen asleep on Yunho's shoulder, resting your head against it, while his head was on top of yours, also asleep. Seonghwa almost squealed when he saw the position you were in. They exchanged a few knowing looks before you finally arrived at your stop.

Yunho woke up before you and you were awoken by a messy-haired, still sleepy but smiley Yunho, ushering you to go outside. You got up, rubbing at your eyes as you looked around. You realized you were still in the car with all of the boys looking at you. You got embarrassed and quickly fixed yourself before shooting a confused look at Yunho. Suddenly, the man driving, Wooyoung, spoke up.

"I dare you and Yunho to go to 7/11 to get us snackssss" He playfully said and you smiled.

"Don't forget to get yourself a new pair of clothes too, you're soaking wet and probably cold. Although, I don't think that was much of a problem considering you were practically on top of eachoth- OOF" Seonghwa was cut off but Yunho roughly shoving his side. For the first time in the past week, you let out a genuine laugh and all the boys turned to look at you, as you bent over in laughter. Their eyes widened and Yunho swore it was the most melodious sound he had ever heard.

Feeling empowered and having a new perspective on life, you decided to go with the flow. Besides, you were given a second chance at life, you weren't going to waste it, moping around. You decided to make a change, and that change started today.

"Well big boy, are you coming with me or not?"

[wizkiddx]

...surprise part 3

{part1} {part 2}

I got there in the end!!!! sorry I felt like this dragged quite a lot but just quite happy to get it done ahah. Any feedback / advice would be greatly appreciated :)

TW: this is pretty heavy angst, miscarriages / thoughts of self harm / death pls don't read if this could strike a cord x 

Summary: Y/n has absolutely not a clue how to tell Tom and that only strains the both incredibly. 

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The drive home was deathly silent. Tom’s Audi seamlessly drove down the near-empty roads on a sleepy Sunday evening. The whole time Y/n sat with one leg curled up by her chest as she absently stared out of the passenger window. Honestly, though, she was not taking anything of the view in, all processing power in her brain was in overdrive. Souly focused on how the fuck she was going to tell Tom what she had done. She knew Tom kept glancing over at her, with the panicked hint to his eyes- no matter how comforting he was trying to appear. His grip on the steering wheel was every tightening, he felt as though right now that was the only control he had. Still with no idea what was going on - but this time his mum knew too. And his mum when she came to get him from the living was not calm either.

Something he always admired about his mum was how cool she was in a crisis. Even if Paddy likened her to the ’rage monster’ at times when she was pissed because he’d left the freezer door open, or something equally as stupid, when it came down to it, when there was a really serious issue… she was composed. Calm and collected. So when she came in and called Tom, taking him away from his brothers, he could tell something was wrong by the look in her eye. She was upset, that was clear to him, but there was something more. It wasn’t straight up panic (not like if Y/n had passed out or something) but it was… it was a quiet urgency.

It meant it was bad.

Without the need to ever consider it, Tom knew this wasn’t anything to do with Y/n being unfaithful. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. And that meant, something must've happened personally to Y/n - which maybe scared him even more. If it was a betrayal of him, that would principally hurt Tom himself - which would kill him, but he would deal with it. It was the fear of the unknown and the complete powerlessness in this situation that had Tom wishing the drive away so he’d finally understand.

The drive felt painstakingly long for Tom… yet far too short for Y/n to come up with a plan.

When the pair finally pulled into the driveway, they both didn’t even exchange glances before heading out the car and slamming the doors shut. The crunch of their shoes on the gravel path to the front door was deafeningly loud as Tom fished the keys out of his pocket - this time with a sense of dread that contrasted so strongly the excitement he’d felt less than 24 hours ago doing the exact same thing.

Tom held the door open for her, as she fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve; eyes still glued to the floor. He flicked on the light to illuminate the hall as she slipped off her shoes. He mirrored her action and then for the first time since his parents' house looked her in the eye. Just that action had him near spilling his guts about how worried he was about her, before Y/n beat him to it.

“I’m…I’m gonna take a shower.”

And it had him floored. How could she just ignore the bloody massive and luminous elephant in the room? He couldn’t even respond, his brain was so confused as to what the fuck was going on. So she just nodded smally and headed straight upstairs. Leaving him in a stupor by the doorway.

Meanwhile, Y/n was just about holding it together until she got behind the locked door of their ensuite. Then it broke. She broke.

She pulled the clothes that drowned her off frantically, scratching and grabbing until the garments ripped off her body and were thrown across the room in haste. In the mirror, the reflection of the person that stood there somewhat had her transfixed. Tilting her head to the side, Y/n took careful steps up toward it - her eyes transfixed on her exposed abdomen. She was hollow. So very empty and it had her hypnotised. How barely weeks ago she was growing a real human inside there - creating something that should’ve gone onto laugh and smile and grow and learn. And love.

Now she was empty.

The poor thing though had been so deprived by their own mother; so unwanted and hated. They had been starved of all love by the person who was supposed to love them the most. The person who was supposed to be half their world for the first few years at least.

It was her fault.

Y/n hated herself, heck she wanted to punish herself for what she’d done. And yet, there was something so pure about her stomach, about where that angel had been. She wanted to punch herself, to kick and hurt, to make her feel pain. Except for this little life force, or the remnants of them - had her respecting it. Instead, she gently rubbed her stomach, which was flat rather than full like it should’ve been, and yet it felt like a relief. At a snail's pace, she trailed the tips of her finger across her belly just drawing (what she thought were) random patterns - however to anyone else they would have noticed the silhouette of a small human.

She took her time int the shower, having the water close to blisteringly hot but not quite there - using it as an attempt to purge her body of the thoughts, of the guilt. Eventually, though she couldn’t drag out the bathroom routine any longer, she had to go and face him. In reality, Y/n was well aware of how unfair this was on Tom - he had been terrified on the way back here, she knew that. But the thought of admitting to him this truly abhorrent thing she’d done, selfishly she didn’t want to tell him tonight. Just one more night sharing a bed with him, one morning of seeing his puffy eyes and bed hair, one last time hearing his gruff morning voice. Before he found out the real her and before he left.

Thankfully, when she finally drew the courage to unlock the door and leave her sanctuary, their bedroom was empty and she took that opportunity. As fast as she possibly could, Y/n changed into an old nightshirt before huddling under the covers. Tom had been so careful with her feelings today, he might just leave her be. Delay the conversation till tomorrow. It was the dream.

And dreams don’t come true.

Tom walked in, she could hear the soft pad of his feet on the cream carpet as she tried to act fast asleep - regulating her breathing and relaxing every muscle she could. When in fact that the whole process was the opposite of relaxing, she was on such high alert, waiting for a sign of him leaving her alone for the evening. Quite expectedly though, it didn’t quite go down that way. She heard him sigh, felt him sit on his side of the bed as her body rippled with the dip on the bed, felt his eyes piercing her.

“Y/n…” the tone of his voice had her wincing internally, he was hurting. “Y/n please… just talk to me?” She was too scared to move. “ I know your awake Y/n we both know who’s the actor here” Y/n knew Tom was trying to lighten the mood, trying to make her feel a bit more comfortable but then he switched back to an underlying hint of desperation. “Please talk to me.” She didn’t have a choice, he wasn't going to let up - Y/n could tell. So she rolled over and opened her eyes facing him.

“I’m tired, Tom. Can we do this tomorrow?” His face completely morphed and she knew she fucked up. He wasn’t upset or worried or scared any more.

“I’m sorry but that is not fair.”

“Please just-“

“NO. ah” He sighed, as if disciplining himself for the instinctive angry tone. “Look- I-I’ve been going at your pace. I’ve been treading on eggshells all day. I didn’t want to push you but I’m bloody terrified! I mean you told my mum! And she’s worried so that means I’m even more stressed and-…. Just please Y/n. You know I’d never judge you I’m just worried because I care.”

And just like that, she didn’t have a choice. She was really hurting the man she loved.

As a result, Y/n pushed herself up into a sitting position, still hugging the duvet around her in a protective blanket as she looked into his glassy eyes. It tore her heart out.

“I’m really sorry” she pursed her lips blowing out an exhale, trying to collect all her thoughts, feelings and emotions together. “I’ve been trying to all day but-.. it’s just I’m finding this really hard to express in words.”

“I don’t mind if it takes all night, just I-I want to understand.” He was just too kind and she didn’t deserve it. So picking at the duvet while pulling her legs closer in protection she nodded.

“Okay, so-so I just take you through it chronologically? And-and then I can go to Y/f/n’s place so.”

“Why would you got to hers?” He asked, his eyebrows drawn tightly together in confusion. He knew you hadn’t been unfaithful - his mum most definitely wouldn’t have reacted in the way she did had Y/n betrayed Tom.

“Just… just listen first.” She didn’t want to answer that question, to speak it into existence. Him kicking her out, in a rage of fury and anger at how evil she could be. She thought he’d just reply and accept it, not feel the need to calm her.

“I could never ever hate you Y/n please, it’s a bit insulting to me that you think I would.”

His words had her a little shocked - she had definitely not expected that reaction. His offence.

“Umm okay just… just don’t promise till you hear.” He gave her a stern look, not enough to make her back down or change her mind from what she thought was inevitable. “So. So it was when you were away. You’d just gone to Atlanta I think and-and I woke up one morning and was sick and it was weird I don’t know… um so I took the day off but I was okay until the next morning and-and I was sick again. It was weird so I took the next day off because you know Elliot I work with? He’s-he's got some broken immune system or something so we really can’t go in if we are ill. But I was fine until the next morning again and-and then it kind of hit me. I hadn’t had a period in ages and-and yeah.”

“Your pregnant?” Tom asked, trying to wrap his head around the current situation and what she was saying.

“Was…” Her voice wavered and she paused a second “ I-I was. I was shocked you know? We…we weren’t ready.” Y/n shifted uncomfortably, pushing herself closer to the headboard. “You said you didn’t want kids now and I mean … we- we are barely adults ourself right? It-it was so stupid but I couldn’t tell you could I?… Phone you up and say by the way I’m pregnant with a kid you don’t want!...” She dared to look at him, only for a second, seeing the way he just stared at her as though transfixed. She couldn’t keep looking at him.

“So I was waiting till you would get back … er next week, well when you were supposed to be back anyway.” She scoffed lightly at that, how the whole entire situation had been completely flipped on its head. “I would have had the scan then. And-and I went and it so stupid because they were a blob but-shit. They were so beautiful.” She hadn’t even noticed, suddenly absorbed in what she was saying but Tom leant over to grab one of her hands because it was trembling so vigorously. It wasn’t that he wanted to comfort her, he needed to. Because really? When it mattered, he hadn’t and that was already eating away at him.

“And I stupidly…. So fucking stupidly… I thought what if? I got excited and in my head… I don’t fucking know I just thought that I-it, it might work. I really - really thought it could work.” She couldn’t feel it but Tom wormed his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her into his side. “But by that point, I’d already filled them with so much hate. I wanted them out for so long and…and then I just- well I got what I thought I wanted.”

For the first time since she started her speech, Y/n wasn’t absorbed in retelling the story. Noticing her position with Toms arms protectively wrapped around her, she dared to look up into his eyes. And they weren’t right. It was wrong. Because here he was still looking at her with these incredibly soft warm brown eyes, his thumb rubbing up and down on the back of her shoulder blade.

“Love, I’m so so sorry.”

She was bemused. What the hell was he doing? Was this just a double bluff, acting all soft before he was about to rip her heart out - even if it was what she deserved, that was exceptionally cruel?

“No Tom your not listening. I-I couldn’t keep your baby alive! I-I wished them away… I wanted them gone!” Now she was plainly hysterical, shouting and yelling at Tom as her hands shook.

It broke Tom’s heart. He knew this was his fault - at least a little. Clearly, she should never have been in a position to have to deal with this herself, that was obvious. And it made him guilty… but what hit harder? She had very clearly implied she was worried about his reaction, he should never have let her worry. Because Tom knew he loved Y/n unconditionally, at this point that should be a given - for all he cared there was nothing, within the limits of reason, she could do that would make him seriously reconsider his opinion of her. Even then, if his opinion were ever forced to change so dramatically... he still knew he wouldn’t be able to stop loving her. Loving isn't an option, it is not a choice. You helplessly surrender yourself to it. And yet she was apparently less sure of this fact.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with this by yourself.” And he meant it. He truly meant it. However, Y/n was not having it at all - in her state, in her frame of mind, this was him just torturing her; acting it out only to break her heart. His words and her position wrapped protectively in his arms dawned on her. It had her leaping up from the bed, tears streaming down her face as she gestured wildly.

“Tom that’s not fair! Don’t you get it? I KILLED YOUR BABY! They were alive and then I wasn’t enough for them! IT’S MY FAULT!” To put it simply, she looked insane. Screaming, with tears streaming down her face, arms flailing about as she yelled at Tom, who was still sitting on the bed.

He’d never seen her like this- with so much anger. What was even more disturbing was the fact that it was targeted so inwardly at herself.

“This isn’t your-“

“BE ANGRY TOM. For fuck sake… I-“ She choked out a sob “I murdered your kid! RAGE AT ME SHOUT AT ME it’s-it’s what I deserve.” It was insane but the look in her eye was one that seemed to Tom as though she needed him to hate her. As if in some fucked up narrative that was how the story should end.

He was not having one bit of it, tearing his eyes away from her maniacally shaking frail frame and instead to the corner of the ceiling. There was no precedent, no guidebook on how to deal with this, no past experiences to rely on. Unlike if Y/n had had a shit day, Tom knew then to subtly keep her within reach, to silently be there so she could literally and figuratively lean on him when she was ready; unlike when she was angry at ignorant politicians, he knew not to argue but prompt her to explain more, give a more reasoned argument so anger became thought through intellect; unlike when her grandma had died, when she just needed his contact, she needed his thumb rubbing against her hip, needed to sleep listening to the rhythmical thumping of his heart. None of these were applicable - his touch seemed to make her worse; his words seemed to anger her more; his mere presence didn’t seem to be doing an awful lot of good.

And yet, he couldn’t leave her even if it seemed to be the most logical option. Because she was wild, not herself and not logical and he, for the first time, was terrified of the danger she could be to herself.

Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to react. She saw his Adam's apple bob up and down - readying his voice to scream at her. She saw his brown eyes collect a sheen of tears of rage - ready to bore holes into her skull as he degraded her to what she was worth. Which was very little. Then, as if in slow motion, his sharp jawline tilted back level and his eyes met her. He was frozen as if a statue, ready to rage at her.

“I love you both. So much and equally.”

Tom was pretty sure he could imagine Y/n’s runaway train in her head slam on the breaks. Her eyebrow twitched a little, as she stood completely still trying to analyse his words. Because to her, it didn’t make sense. So he took this moment of (at least surface level) calm to smoothly and slowly stand up, actions much like mirroring how someone approaches a spooked cat on the streets. Movements slow and preplanned, trying not to set off the fight or flight response on the women in front of him.

“That little baby you made… I didn’t know he ever existed till minutes ago but…but I know for a fact I love them.” He was trying to both figure out and decode his own emotions while explaining them in a way Y/n would accept and understand.

“I love them because… they are made by the love of my life. And that’s incredible and indescribable and just… just part of you, an extension of everything you and me together are… They would never have been perfect right?” Tom softly asked, though realistically knowing he wouldn’t get a response from a still motionless Y/n - besides a single tear, which appeared to have a mind of its own, escaping over her bottom lash lid. Tom watched it roll down her cheek as he composed his next words. “No they wouldn’t, no ones perfect… neither me nor you. But they would’ve been safe and have been loved. They were loved, you-you loved them right, even if you didn’t think you did or when you were terrified?” This time Y/n nodded minutely and Tom mirrored this, taking a small step a little closer to her. “And I did love them while they were in your stomach because they were part of you and I always always love you…. So they were so full of love okay? There's no rhyme or reason to why what happened happened but it’s… it’s definitely not because they were starved of love okay?” Y/n still didn’t have appeared to have released a single breath since Tom stood up, so he made a calculated and risked assessed movement to reach his hand out to touch her upper arm. In reaction, she sucked in a sharp shaky breath and then expelled it just as quickly - just like Tom knew she would. He physically felt a pull in his chest seeing the torment in her glassy eyes, now barely a rulers length from her.

“This, it’s an awful… awful situation. It’s sad and heartbreaking but I really need you to know that it changes nothing about how I feel about you. I need you to really understand how much I love-and always will-love you, and how I love them too.” Another tear escaped the same eye and Tom reached up with his other hand so his thumb could brush it away before the glassy orb met her pronounced jawline. To be honest he was quite grateful for the moment as he felt his voice getting a bit sticky in the back of his throat. She still wasn’t ready to speak yet and he was okay with that.

“We’ll never forget them and we will always love them, but I want to do that with you, as we get older together. They tie us closer and I refuse to disrespect them and force ourselves apart….a-assuming you don’t want to either?” Still cupping her cheek with his left hand Tom felt as well as saw her nod, this time more emphatically, her eyes darting between focusing on his left and then right eye - as though she was just checking they were saying the same things as his mouth.

“I’m sorry I-“ Finally feeling the connection between her brain and voice box, Y/n stated to jiltedly speak but was interrupted as Tom tentatively feathered his lips on hers. “You can be sorry for scaring the crap out of me today, you can be sorry for shouting and you can be sorry for not telling me at all… I don’t think you should, but if you’re staying sorry that’s all you can be sorry for.” He was barely speaking, more like just moving his lips against hers, yet they knew and understood each other completely Y/n got everything. So she sighed and repeated.

“I am sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for you not having the faith to know I’d be happy, that was my fault. I’m sorry for not being here and not noticing when you were struggling on the phone. I’m sorry I crept up on you last night. But I don’t think there’s anything else for either of us to apologise for.”

“Okay” Y/n then pressed her lips firmly and almost desperately against his, feeling his warmth wrap around her, as he literally wrapped his arm around her waist, from where it had been on her upper arm. And really she was very incredibly desperate since it was very very incredibly clear now with him pressed against her that he might’ve been all she needed this whole time. Tom went with it for a couple of moments, but then broke them both apart - it sounds odd but he sort of felt like he was taking advantage of her.

“Darling you’re grieving. We can tackle this together …. But your grieving so we need to look after you first. And, and we’ll remember them and face this. But we gotta look out for each other too and…”

“I’m ill aren’t I?” He was oh-so relieved that she could see it too.

“I’m not a doctor but I think so… think we need to get you eating properly.”Y/n nodded and Tom kissed her forehead, pulling her completely against his chest - only exacerbating and exaggerating his awareness of how boney she felt. It hadn’t gone unnoticed how she’d spent the whole of Sam’s dinner pushing the meat round on her fork - rearranging it numerous times- whilst picking at a few carrots. “We can do whatever you feel will help you this evening but you need to tell me what you want to eat.”

*

You agreed but you still felt incredibly nauseous, so managed to put off the whole snacking thing in lieu of cuddling up on the sofa with Tom. You were still incredibly confused, feeling slightly detached from reality if you were completely honest. And you knew Tom was a good actor, his career kind of speaks for himself yet, all the same, the sheer truth in his eyes, voice, heart. It had you feeling safe. He no longer felt a flight risk and although you still couldn’t understand why he was forgiving you so easily, you believed he was. In the softest voice, he kept just saying ‘your grieving’ when you tried to challenge his logic- admittedly proving difficult in your scattered and hazy mind.

So you found yourself lying almost completely on top of his right side, your head tucked underneath his chin, a fluffy blanket weighing down on your back to keep you nice and toasty. Silently Tom had trailed his fingertips tentatively, under the hem of your t-shirt, round over the top of your hip to his stomach. Initially, it had felt like the worst and most alien feeling in the world- but he told you to relax and you listened; he told you to take deep breaths and you listened; he told you he loved you and you listened.

It must’ve been incredibly boring for him, I mean the TV wasn’t on neither was the radio and you knew his phone was in a pocket you were currently lying on. He didn’t complain though, he just let you lie there. Just sort of being with him.

*

At some point Tom realised she’d drifted off, after a long time fighting exhaustion, as though she were worried about what Tom would do once she finally gave in to sleep. It wasn’t surprising though, considering her energy intake from food for today was limited to a couple of roasted carrot slices, Tom knew her falling asleep on his chest was inevitable. The time it took had also given him enough time to fully digest and process the whole day as well as for deciding what he needed to do. So once she appeared fully out of Tom dared to worm his hand between their bodies and, with a few muted grunts of effort, phish his phone out his back pocket.

‘Hi, I know this asking a lot but would you mind getting Sam to make that pasta bake Y/n likes and dropping it round? Just she’s asleep but I don’t want to leave her alone but could do with getting something in her?’

‘Sams already on it and it doesn’t take long. I’ll be at yours in about an hour, shall I just let myself in?’

Tom was so grateful for his family, and for how they’d taken Y/n in to. Although she’d never admit it, her tougher than average upbringing always had her feeling a bit isolated- she never had ‘her’ people. The people who completely accepted her for who she was and never judged her. But as soon as he’d introduced her to them, it was as if she'd always been there. He endlessly appreciated the talks Nikki and you had, the way his Dad would come over when she was home alone to help with the simple stuff like knowing what lightbulb to buy for the lamp that had blinked out.

She had a place in his family.

Quite impressively, Sam had managed to bake the dish and then Nikki had managed to drive round before barely three-quarters of an hour had passed. Y/n was still completely out, so when he heard his mum unlock the door with her spare key, he felt able to wiggle out from under her without disturbing at all. He met Nikki in the kitchen, leaning against the door frame as he watched his mother fly about the kitchen - preheating the oven on a low temp to keep it warm while pulling plates and cutlery out the drawers so it was easier for Y/n and Tom when you woke up.

“Thanks for all this” Tom announced his presence with a soft sigh as he padded further into the kitchen. Nikki instinctively threw her arms round her eldest’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly.

“You guys okay?” Tom replied with a rather uncertain hum, before recounting the evening to his mum in a low voice - as though Y/n could be disturbed from the other side of the house. Nikki was in two frame of minds at this point, clearly heartbroken for the pair; but also incredibly proud of her son because it appeared he’d reacted and said exactly the right things.

“And you?… it must’ve been a shock?” To be quite honest, Tom hadn't thought about his own emotions yet, he’d put himself on the back foot for the time being.

“I mean it’s just a bit surreal… I don’t know I didn’t really have anything to do with it but - I just know that it's made me so certain that one day we will... you know?” Nikki hugged her son again with a little nod.

“Well I won’t outstay my welcome but I do want you to give this to Y/n too.”’ With those words, she fished a square box out of her handbag - it was about the size of two matchboxes and Tom raised his brows in curiosity. “She’ll understand when she sees it.”

And with a brisk parting gesture, Nikki left, Tom tucking the box into his side pocket before getting the pasta ready.

////////

Waking you with a gentle rub on your upper arm, you mewled a groan and pushed your head hard into the sofa below you in an attempt to alleviate the tension that instantly rippled through your skull. With hazy eyes, you blinked heavily, slowly focusing on the pale yet soft skin of the boy crouched opposite you.

“Hey darling, nice nap?” Nodding gradually, you still tried to completely recollect and piece together everything that had happened today “… you need some grub before we head upstairs yeh?” Again you nodded in compliance because at this point, even having been asleep for the last however long, you really didn’t have the energy for any conflict or disagreement. With a little prompt and poke from Tom, you reluctantly sat up, grasping the plate he offered to you while still rubbing one of your eyes. Busying himself with running back to the kitchen and grabbing his own plate and drink, you had time to look at the food and notice what was served to you. Tom plopped himself next to you and turned his head with a small smile, meeting a bemused and slightly suspicious look from you.

“You didn’t cook this…?” Really it wasn’t a question. You knew for a fact Tom was not and would never be a good chef. No judgement though, since neither were you, meaning the pair of you heavily relied on the ingenious invention of uber eats most evenings. Tom chuckled at your perceptiveness and admitted defeat without even trying to feign it.

“Nah mum dropped it round. Though I think Sam cooked it so a joint effort.”

“-didnt have to-“ You hated feeling like a burden. You hated people worrying because you just felt bad. Not worth the attention and effort. And Tom hated you feeling like that - naturally then, he had the need to shut you down instantly.

“No, you’re right. But they did.”

The air was filled with the quiet clinks of ceramic against the silver or the cutlery as you forced mouthful after mouthful down your throat. He was trying to be subtle, and yet you could feel Tom’s concerned glance checking you were eating. Truthully, you really didn’t feel like eating at all (even if it was Sam’s gorgeous tomato and sausage pasta bake - an odd combination but it worked). However, what more crucial in that moment was not disappointing your incredibly sweet boyfriend.

After having consumed as much as you physically could - which Tom deemed suitable with a small nod- he took your plates away and came back to sit beside you. More and more silence.

“Are-are we okay?” Whispering quietly you felt Tom’s body seize up into a rigid state, his face whipping round to look at you. He chose to reply with actions first reaching up so that his hands cupped your cheeks, he turned your head and then slowly leaned into to press his lips softly against yours. Once retracted, he pressed his forehead onto yours.

“Of course. I bloody love you and we’re going to get through this together.” His eyes were almost intimidating, with the seriousness he placed in his gaze - just to make sure you knew he meant it.

What you had done to deserve this boy you’d never know. But you were so incredibly grateful for him.

It gave you the confidence to take the first move this time, pressing your lips against his, holding for a moment before arching away - a small yet real smile on your face.

“Oh… nearly forgot” He muttered, leaning forward and grabbing a black leather box that you’d failed to notice had been placed on the coffee table. For the second time this evening, you were caught off guard and bemused as to how he’d sourced this item within the time frame. “It’s from mum… she wouldn’t tell me what it is but said you’d understand.”

His words had you biting your lip, in a weird way eager to see, purely because you knew Nikki understood you. And understood what you were going through. With one last look to Tom, you reached out and grabbed the box, thumb running over the sleek leather exterior. Once your thumb reached the bottom you flicked the lid up, unveiling a simple silver chained bracelet. It had five dainty silver charms hanging off it, they looked a bit like leaves but were kind of too small to tell. Moreover, it looked a little worn and preloved but it didn’t stop your eyes from watering when you saw at the bottom another charm, not yet attached that looked newer and pristine.

5 charms already attached and 1 new one.

“Oh” Tom muttered, also clearly very much intrigued, hovering off you left shoulder to see properly. ”That’s mums bracelet. She never really takes it off… that’s nice I guess?” He was obviously confused and it had you chuckling wetly, at how oblivious he could be. You did love your dear idiot.

5 charms for her 5 pregnancies… and now one for yours. One to wear forever, to love, to keep close to your heart.

They were tears of happiness, you were certain of, however, Tom was not at all sure why your flood gates opened again and was worried.

“You-you don’t have to take- I mean if you don’t like it don’t worry-“

“I love it” You breathed, looking up at him with glassy eyes before hastily picking up the extra charm and with shaky fingers clasping it onto the chain next to it. Tom perked up, if still bemused, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t know how you convinced her to take it off, I’ve been trying to buy her a new bracelet for years but she’s always stuck with this old thing.”

“Because it’s beautiful!” You yelped in argument, making him laugh at how suddenly you’d switched into a happy and overexcited mood. Though don’t get me wrong, he was loving it.

“You Holland women I will never understand.” He whispered into your ear whilst you looked back at the chain, fixing it round your wrist. His comment made you freeze up, as you felt his grip tightening on your waist as he realised exactly what he might have just let slip out. “No I er- I don’t mean… but-but one day maybe if-if you wanted.”

“I love you” You sighed, kissing him once again to save him the embarrassment of watching his cheeks flush and ears pink up.

“I’m serious though… one day because… because you’re my family and when it happens our family will grow too.”

He was right. And you would, one day,

But you would never forget the two little lives remembered on this bracelet.

tagging people that might be interested (sorry if u don't care ahah): @wayfaring----stranger @vanillanestor @333dolans @thevelvetseries @whitewolf51 

[fakecrfan]

POV: You wake up in the TMA universe at the start of season 1.

You find yourself on the streets of London, cold and confused.

You try to figure out what happened and get home. You discover the place you lived no longer exists. The place you worked no longer exists.

You try to call the numbers of family, friends, anyone you knew. Baffled voices that you don’t recognize answer you, and then hang up.

As you're wandering around the streets getting increasingly terrified, you pass by the Magnus Institute. Then, everything makes sense.

You hurry in and blurt out: "I would like to make a statement"

Rosie smiles politely.

“Alright, let’s get you the proper forms then.”

She tells you that the Archivist, Jonathan Sims, will see you in a moment. As you are waiting for him, you recall what happens to people who give statements to Jonathan Sims. Unceasing bad dreams. Unrelenting panic attacks. Enough that Jess Tyrell stopped being able to go out in public.

"Ah," you think. "I will not do that then."

You leave in a hurry. Outside, you realize:

oh, I'm the only one who can stop the apocalypse now, aren't i

You shiver. That thought can wait, you think. For now you need to find... somewhere to stay. You are effectively homeless. No, not effectively. You are straight up homeless.

You pull out your wallet to pay for food. Your card is declined. You try to use cash, only to be told it’s counterfeit. Everything is just a little too much to the left of your reality for you to navigate.

Finally you find social services of some kind. They ask for your information, including your NIN. you aren't surprised when they say the info they have on file for that number is.... not you. You are disappointed though.

They help you to a homeless shelter. You sit on your cot and cry self-pityingly for a bit, and then that pressure comes back to your mind:

The world is going to end. You know the world is going to end. You're the only one who can do anything about it.

You turn over and decide that's something you can deal with in the morning.

----

The next day, you think about it again.

"That's something I can deal with when I have an apartment," is what you think then.

So that becomes your next project. Finding your footing as a displaced person. Social services helps but it's... sporadic. It takes months for you to get more stable housing.

When you lie down on the couch of the new, well, new associate you've made, you once again remember that the world is going to end. That you are the only one who can do anything about it.

"I'll think about that when I get a job"

-----

Time continues to pass. As you are trying to get on your feet, you make feeble attempts to... start something.

You go to the Magnus Institute a few times. But it's hard. You've always had terrible social anxiety,. And everyone there seems so cold. You can feel eyes on your back: staring, watching your every move. Normally that alone is enough to make you quit for the day.

A lot of times, the main cast you remember is out doing research. When they are there, you are about to walk up and speak to them when the anxiety hits you again.

What if Elias sees you talking to them? What if he kills you?

You decide to retreat for a little while, then. Just to think of a better plan.

You spend the next month getting your first job in this new world. You start a timeline of when you think the apocalypse is going to happen, but remembering the canon dates is hard. It's not a very helpful timeline, and so you give it up.

Eventually you think the best thing to do is to wait until Elias has been arrested and then talk to the others. When Elias is in prison, he can't murder you for revealing your plans.

This means Sasha and Tim will die. But--they might have died anyway, even with your intervention. Who’s to say? Anyway, you’re not the one who will kill them. It’s not your fault.

You scan the news every day for things about the Magnus Institute, particularly the head of it getting arrested.

During this time, you do a little better. You have a nice apartment now, you think. Nice by your own standards, at least. You decorate the place a little. Get some video games that you like--or well, they aren't the same ones as in your world, but close enough you think?

Months pass.

One day it hits you that maybe the papers would never actually report on Elias being arrested.

Oh shit, you think.

You go back to the Magnus Institute then. By this point, Rosie recognizes you. She grants you the same expression one grants a wayward alley cat. You ask who the current head is. You are told "Peter Lukas."

Shit.

"Can I make a statement?"

Rosie looks nervous. "Um, the Archivist is on medical leave."

"Okay can I talk to one of his assistants?"

Rosie gets this very tired look in her eyes.

"I'll... ask."

Rosie phones the archives extension

it rings

it rings

it rings

"They've all really been through it recently," Rosie tells you. "They don't--like to talk to anyone else, now."

"I have to talk to them," you say. "Um, can you--can you tell Martin Blackwood specifically that I need to talk to him? That it's about Jon?"

Martin is--you like Martin. Martin will be nice and safe. He'll be easier to talk to than Melanie at this point, or Basira. Still, Rosie looks tired again.

"I'll have a chat with him," Rosie says. "How about you go home for now, and I'll call you when I've talked to him."

"But--"

You're bad at this. You were always bad at this. You can barely sign up for anything on your own. Your mother has done so many calls and filled out so many forms for you.

You never cultivated the skill of standing in a lobby and insisting to talk to someone. Maybe you'll just irritate Rosie and she'll blacklist you if you dig in your heels now. Anyway, you're already so tired from this. You think about going home, and playing some Medal of Honour IV.

"Fine," you say.

You go home. You play the game. You sleep.

You're not giving up, you say to yourself. You're just--biding your time.

Rosie does not call you.

It pains you, but you realize you have to go back in and ask to speak to someone again. You'll go today after work, you decide.

No, wait, you're too tired from work today. You'll go tomorrow.

Maybe on the weekend.

----

You finally go back

Rosie tells you she just--hasn't been able to get a hold of Martin.

"Fine," you say. "Any of the other assistants."

Rosie actually looks a bit worried for you. "Um, they're not--they don't take well to unexpected visitors. Let me wait and chat them up about it."

You do not listen this time.

You march down into the basement level where the archives are. The door is--well. Shit. It's barricaded? You knock. You keep knocking.

"Melanie! Basira!" you say. "I have to talk!"

The door opens too quickly. You barely get a glimpse of Melanie's snarl before she strikes and your vision goes white.

She hits you a few times. No knives, just fists. You hear Basira in the backround, barking for Melanie to stand down. Once there is an opening and you can blearily see again, you run away in terror.

It's not--you didn't intend to run. You were just afraid.

----

You go home, and realize that Melanie didn't even really hit you in a super serious way. Nothing that would warrant a hospital trip, at least. Nothing that has left you with a lot of pain, outside of the immediate terror of physical violence.

You probably could have stuck it out there. You should have.

You think about all the months--no, years now--that have passed without you making any progress.

"But that’s not my fault,” you say.

"I was having a really hard time. I was homeless. I've been struggling with my mental health. I still have to keep the rent paid and feed myself."

"It's not my fault. It's not."

"I will do something. Just--I need some more time."

You sleep.

You decide to wait a bit for your bruises to heal up before going back.

When you do drag yourself back to the Institute, now there is a PTSD reaction to going into the Institute on top of the social anxiety.

You leave quickly. Rosie looks so sad for you.

You do try to go back. You do try to get back in contact with the Archives, or go back when Jon is back up. But there's always something. Not something directly stopping you. Just--

Tiredness. Work. Illness. Doctor's appointments. Panic attacks. The Archives staff being unreachable.

The world is going to end. You're the only one who can stop it.

"That's not true though," you think. "I mean, technically anyone could. I just have a little more information that could help."

"It's never one person's fault," you tell yourself as you crawl into bed after another flight of anxiety struck you as you were about to cross the street to the Institute. "It's everything. It's--a whole system. It's Jonah's fault really. If I don't--I'm not to blame."

“I’m not to blame.”

----

You are playing Medal of Honour V when your phone lights up with a notification that there was an outburst of violence at a place known as the Magnus Institute, and billionaire Peter Lukas has disappeared in the confusion.

You should get up. It’s going to happen, and happen soon. You hand twitches on the controller.

You remember a quote you saw before you ended up here, on Facebook of all things.

"Don't wonder what you'd be doing in Nazi Germany. Whatever you're doing now, is what you would have been doing then."

Because bad things were happening in the world all the time, your preachy Facebook aunt said. There is always genocide, and famine, and war. It’s not some movie fantasy from the past.

You think about that. About the horrors in your world. Those movements that you retweeted support for and occasionally donated $5 to. The protests you awkwardly passed by on your way to work.

You quietly realize what kind of person you are. What you would have been doing in Nazi Germany, or the civil rights era in the U.S., or during the catastrophes in your own world, or right now.

It's what you were always going to do.

And so you get back to Medal of Honour V.

----

You're still dreading the apocalypse of course. It won’t be easy.  It will be around six months to a year of full on torture, specifically designed to be the worst you have ever felt. Something about that soothes you. Something about knowing you are a victim too, or maybe knowing that you’ll be punished.

But--it will end, and then you'll be alright. Everything will return to normal, and you can go back to your apartment and your job and your games. It’s not all that bad.

You feel a twinge of guilt for Martin and Jon, who you could ave intervened for. You feel more than a twinge for the worlds the Entities will infect after. But--maybe it will all work out okay. Maybe the universe is a kind place. Maybe other worlds will be able to handle the fears better.

Who knows! There is always hope!

----

[When the sky turns red and the great Eye opens, when you start to hear the howls of your apartment neighbors through the wall--

Nothing happens to you. You are fine. It does not touch you.

Oh.]