#IT ONLY TOOK 24 HOURS AND THEN SOME AND 2 MONTHS OF SANITY!!!!!!

[qualityrain]

[tobiosmilktea]

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[033] — epilogue!

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a/n: this is definitely not my best writing cause my brain was going brr the entire time i was writing this, but i honestly can’t believed i have finished yet another smau! 🥳 ✨if i’m being completely honest this smau took a complete turn to what i was initially planning,, but it ended up not being that bad. i certainly feel like this smau would’ve been a lot better if i didn’t have school preoccupying me 24/7, but i’m still really proud of this. thank you guys for reading and dealing with this messy, messy smau!! ☺️

a year flew by faster than you had hoped. Two weeks turned into a month, a month turned into six, and six months turned into a year. A lot of things can happen within a year. Hell, a shit ton of things can happen within six months, yet here you were, all glammed up in your best dress at the move premiere of love cemetery.

you hadn’t felt this nervous in ages. the quickening of your pulse, the rapidly beating heart, to your pals that perspired as the seconds ticked on by. akaashi stood by you this whole time as your gaze keeps looking over to the guest list as if it were to magically change if you were too look away for one second. akaashi had been by your side, your moral support and the absolute backbone of your sanity the moment you and the team landed in los angeles a year ago. he noticed everything about you. he was one of your best friends, how could he not notice the way you were suddenly quiet and not excited right now?

he laid a careful hand on the small of your back to comfort you, leaning over to the same list of guests you were worrying about. “are you worried about who i invited again?”

“i’m more worried they’re not coming.” you confess without a single beat missed.

“oh, they will,” he assured you confidently. there was even a rising smirk in his expression when he let go of you, “have a little bit of faith in me will you? i was the one who got you back in touch with them.”

you huff playfully, rolling your eyes as you recalled the strange feeling of isolation over six months ago when you landed in la. it was in no doubt the longest flight of your life, lasting a good fifteen hours if you counted the two hour layover in hawaii due to reckless turbulence (it was one of the scariest flights in your life too). you had read their texts then, drowning in the sudden downpour of emotions when you read their words, i love you.

it almost didn’t seem real. you swore it had to have been the fatigue playing games on you as you couldn’t sleep for the life of you on the plane. yeah, maybe that was it, you excused. you were so desperate for their messages to be a figment of your imagination, you literally tried everything—turning your phone on and off, asking sugawara for eye droplets, and even ignored it until you were back on the plane and landed in los angeles. it had to be fake, please be fake. yet, in the back of your head you knew damn well it wasn’t.

there was a plaguing thought within you, one that’s so destructive and degenerative that you hated the fact you thought this way. but it wasn’t like you could help it. insecurity was a troublesome venom that coursed through your veins everyday and there didn’t seem to be an antidote to your own self-destruction. 

you loved them both, but you weren’t entirely sure if you had enough love to give for the both of them, let alone one. iwaizumi and bokuto’s feelings confused you to the core. you broke their hearts, yet how could they still love you so dearly?

you didn’t know the answer nor did you have time to even find it.

the film crew stayed in los angeles for two weeks and filmed over the course of that time period. days were filled with twelve hour shoots and a tight film schedule. being the author of the work itself, you were a major part of the production alongside the director. he trusted your vision and you’d often find yourself staying on set the entire day while kaori and the rest of the ddd team felt like they were on vacation. your only free time during that time was the ten minute holy grails in between takes that you were able to check social media.

you simply didn’t have the time to think about them. and yet they were like haunting ghosts that followed you relentlessly. every time you checked twitter or instagram, you would see every post, every tweet, every story. all of which would send your heart spiraling and tugging.

you missed them. but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. you couldn’t possibly strike up conversation with any of them after completely ignoring their calls and texts for weeks. you had to have an odd amount of audacity to do that, and you simply didn’t have the guts to do so. if anything, the only lasting form of communication between you and the boys was the ringing notification that you liked each other’s posts.

it was quite the sad reality.

the film set then transferred to new york city, where the next two weeks would be filled with yet another plethora of twelve hour work days. fortunately for you, the rest of the ddd team were pulling a bit more of their weight, helping you on the creative side of things, yet still having the time to do all the fun touristy things whilst in the city.

you could remember the way your heart lit up seeing iwaizumi and bokuto’s names beneath who saw your story. it was a video of you and your team at the lady liberty statue. in it, kaori and yuko were chomping down on gigantic $2 street hot dogs, sugawara was yelling at semi for getting in the way of his film camera, while akaashi was complaining that the wind kept knocking down his green lady liberty hat.

it was strange thinking how fast things can change. within the first week, you were always up for an adventure in the city when the days were filled with work, but as the week progressed, your social meter decreased more and more. 

loneliness hit you then. it was a peculiar type of loneliness, the type that you felt alone despite being surrounded by your closest friends and working on your dream project. you figured you were just homesick the way everyone else was getting all ready for a night out going bar hopping while you sat in the living room of your hotel room in your pajamas.

“are you sure you don’t want to come with us, (y/n)?” kaori asked you, concern washing over her slightly as you flickered her a tired look. 

you shook your head, a small smile of gratitude melting upon your lips. “no, you guys go on ahead and have fun.”

your friends could only give you a look. they knew why you were being like this and they knew damn well it wasn’t homesickness. semi specifically threw you a look that’s meant to be teasing and oddly persuasive. “it’s been over a month, this can be a chance for you to finally meet someone new!” he exclaimed optimistically.

what was stopping you, anyway? it was clear nothing was, yet you still held yourself back. homesickness couldn’t possibly be to reason for it either. why are am i being like this?

“it’s okay, i’m with akaashi,” you decline once more, “he’ll keep me company.”

“alright then, join us once you feel like moving on.” says yuko with a hint of venom in her tone. you couldn’t blame her for saying that though as it was the harsh reality of it all.

your friends filed out the door, closing it in a thud and once again you felt alone. isolated as if you were in a void of your own silent thoughts that even the loud murmurs coming from the television wasn’t enough to drown out your shallow inhibitions. 

the night continued on like this for a few hours. eating snacks in the dark living room with the remote in your hand, flipping channels every five minutes as your running thoughts couldn’t keep your attention span still. it felt like you were missing something, a part of yourself that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. you thought of all of the possibilities why you felt like there was a void in your heart, yet the only thing you could properly convince yourself on was that you just missed home. but was that really all that you had missed?

you thoughts are interrupted by steps approaching you. akaashi walks into the living room, flicking on the switches and causing you to grimace at the bright lights. your eyes stung slightly as they adjusted from being in the dark for too long.

“where are you going?” you ask akaashi as you noticed his dressed up attire.

“i got done with all the paperwork and emails,” he answers while he fixes the collar of his dress shirt, “i’m deciding to have some fun tonight with the rest of the group. are you still up for it? i’ll wait for you to get ready if you want.”

the thought occurred within you that you should agree. that the possibility of this unexplainable feeling of isolation you were feeling would disappear if you were to just say yes and go. but as self-destructive as you were on yourself, you continued to hold yourself back—hesitant and always second guessing your actions.

you open your mouth slightly, but you ultimately just shook your head no.

akaashi lets out a sigh. he was genuinely hoping you would come around sooner or later. granted, it had been over a month since you guys left japan and he figured you would be over everything by now, but that obviously wasn’t the case. “you might be receiving a call soon... i suggest you should answer it.”

confusion flushed over your expression, giving him a strange look. but before you could even utter a single question to him, akaashi was already up and out the door.

he left you in a wake of curiosity for the rest of the night. it was nearing one in the morning and you still hadn’t yet received a phone call. it honestly sounded incredibly ominous that you grew a tad bit nervous. there were only so many possibilities on who would call, but it would actually infuriate you if akaashi was just joking around. but then again, akaashi isn’t the type to play something childish like that unless it was kaori or semi’s idea. regardless, the thought kept you awake as you eyes practically weighed like cinder blocks at this point.

you couldn’t believe you wait for two hours for a phone call that might not even happ—it shocked you at first, the ringing of your obnoxious ring tone and the buzzing of the vibrations on the table.

furrowing your brows as you reached over, a gasp left you the moment you read the contact name. your slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your shock. your hand shook from the growing bundle of nerves in your gut as you hesitate.

the name ‘kou’ shined brightly against your face, coaxing you to answer as if your thumb wasn’t frozen the accept button. out of all the possibilities on who would be calling you tonight, it just had to be him. it wasn’t like you opposed talking to bokuto. if anything, you had spent countless of sleepless nights wondering if you should finally answer that text of his. yet no matter how many different messages you have typed, none of them ever saw the light of day. a hurricane of stupid conversation starters and ice breakers swarmed in your head, all messy and disorganized that if you didn’t just suck it up and answered, you would’ve probably missed a chance to reconnect with him.

fuck it, you thought as you accepted the call.

“(y/n)!” bokuto called out to you, sending your heart running thousands of miles an hour. it had been ages since you heard your name come out of his mouth, “how’ve you been? a little birdy told me you needed a little company.”

you had to hold yourself back from smiling too much as you could already feel your cheeks ache. you wanted to scoff and perhaps groan at the sudden embarrassment of what akaashi could’ve told him. “bo—” you started, but is immediately cut off.

yet another familiar voice emitted from bokuto’s line, almost as if they were shouting, “you’re supposed to say that i’m here too, idiot!”

the volleyball player chuckles, “oh sorry, iwa-chan! here.” muffles and cups clanking against each other travel through to line to what you assume is bokuto handing his phone over to iwaizumi.

“uh... hi.” his voice sounded deeper than usual.

“hi iwa, how have you been?” you chuckle, finding his sudden shyness absolutely adorable.

“good, good. i’ve uhh... missed you.”

“i do too.”

“yeah, yeah, you miss me most though right?” bokuto’s loud voice thunders through the call.

the juxtaposition of how daftly different they were was something you could never get enough of. perhaps it was at that moment you finally understood your loneliness through their bickering. you were in fact homesick, but the home that you were thinking of wasn’t what you were missing the most. you suppose the home you missed was them. they were your home.

you let out an amused laugh, “right.”

“that’s good because iwaizumi and i should be mad at you for ghosting us for the past month, but we understand since akaashi explained to us already.”

your eyes suddenly widen into saucers, panicking what he could have possibly said. “what did he tell you?”

“everything,” bo sings.

you audibly groan in embarrassment, throwing your head back onto the couch in retaliation. you were glad they couldn’t see how flushed and red your cheeks were right now as they even extended out to the tips of your ears.

“you know it would’ve been easier to say that you love the both of us and didn’t want to choose right?” iwaizumi points out in between your panic.

“exactly!” cuts in bokuto, “besides we don’t sharing you, you know. who knew you were such a prude, (y/n).” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as you couldn’t stop the heat from spreading any further from your face.

now you were really glad they weren’t able to see you at that moment. if they did, you would’ve died from the embarrassment then and there. “give me a break, i was too embarrassed to ask,” you mutter, fearing that they could hear how fast your heart was beating through the call.

“ask what?” iwaizumi teases, “ask if you could date the both of us?”

you were internally screaming at this point. everything that you didn’t think was going to happen, happened all within five minutes and you honestly couldn’t believe it. you were pinching yourself as if you were in a dream, yet no matter how hard you squeezed, this was actually happening. “shut up!” was all you could say.

“even if you did ask... it’s not like we could ever say no to you, (y/n).” says bokuto, his words so enticing that you weren’t sure if you’re heart can handle any more of this.

his words left you absolutely speechless. you honestly didn’t know what to say at this point.

"i’m fine with it and bokuto’s fine with it.” iwaizumi says, “it’s just a matter if you’re willing.” 

bokuto then leans forward towards his phone, “so what do you say, (y/n)?”

you swallowed the lump of nerves forming into your throat as the one question you never thought you would ever be asked was right in front of you. and yet you still hesitated despite everything that had just happened. you loved them both, so why weren’t you answering?

a few beats of silence passed before your gained the courage to push out the the very words, “... i’ll think about it.”

“boo! that’s lame!” bokuto shouts.

“i’ll give you guys an answer when i get back home.” you add, hoping to ease the disappointment they were probably feeling at that very moment.

“that won’t be for another few months, though.” iwaizumi deadpans that you could practically see the pout on both of their faces. “but we’ll promise to wait for you, (y/n).”

and so they waited for you to come back home, but you never did. schedules misaligned even when you were finally back home in tokyo. bokuto was getting progressively more busy now that the olympics were coming up and iwaizumi was just as busy, if not busier with the amount of athletes he had to take care of. there was even a constant flying back and forth from tokyo to los angeles for the film, all of which lasted for a few weeks at a time and you swear your couldn’t catch a break.

this went on for months with the only contact between you and the boys were from texting and phone calls that ended up shorter than you anticipated. and now a year had past since you left and this very movie premiere would be the first time you have seen iwaizumi and bokuto for the first time in a year.

this was so ironic how this all played out. you haven’t even realized you already reached the end of the red carpet when an interviewer calls out your name, microphone in hand and a camera pointed directly at your face.

“ms. (y/l/n)!” the woman shouts over the ruckus of snapping photos and other interviewers asking questions to the actors behind you. “there has been rumors going around about your dating life. are you dating msby’s bokuto koutarou or their athletic trainer iwaizumi hajime, who has been getting a lot of attention from stan twitter just recently! could you share some insight on your live life as love cemetery’s creator?”

“um,” you start, not sure how to answer the question as you nervous chuckled, “that’s a secret i’m afraid i can’t tell.”

before the woman could ask you any other questions, you walked away from the carpet and rushed towards the banquet hall. thankfully, akaashi and kaori was nearby and gratefully took your place in the interview without a second thought.

you let out a relieved sigh as much of the noise from the premiere died down as the only people inside the banquet hall were movie critics, the film crew, and other celebrities who were invited. by now, no one in this room would have the audacity to ask you such a personal question which caused weights to fall off your shoulder. you honestly should be used to those types of questions right now as a webtoon author that literally writes romance, but it always catches you off guard when you least expect it. honestly, you were just glad you didn’t slip up.

as a small little reward for yourself, you grab a flute of champagne from the refreshment table, decorated all fancy that you even hesitated to mess up the display. you turn around to face the growing crowd of mingling individuals, talking and laughing amongst each other as you sipped your drink gently. but as you watch you feel a presence on either side of you, both of which sent your heart soaring and a smile to appeared on your cherry colored lips. you didn’t even have to look them up and down to see how handsome they both looked. to think they were all yours.

“so what did you tell that interviewer?” bokuto asks nonchalantly as if he could just get away from a proper greeting. you were surprised he didn’t just engulfed you into his arms then and there.

instead, you opted to play along, “about what?” you tested with a smirk.

“the question about who you’re dating,” iwaizumi adds in from your other side.

you shrug, taking a sip of your champagne, “you guys probably wouldn’t like the answer i gave her.” you could feel the brazen stares bokuto and iwaizumi were giving each other—competitive and oddly provoking.

“she probably said she was dating me,” bokuto hums in response, confidence radiating off him that it caused you to scoff.

“i doubt it,” debates iwaizumi, giving him the same energy. “she probably said she was dating me.”

“actually,” you cut in before the two could possibly start bickering with each other, “i remember specifically saying that i’d thinking about it.” 

the boys give you a look, downing their drinks as if they were like the shots they swallowed many nights ago at that bar. it was as if they were trying to win your over again like your feelings had changed since then. 

“oh yeah?” bokuto starts, inching closer towards you while iwaizumi rested his arm on the table behind you.

“so what do you think, (y/n)?” says iwaizumi.

they both towered over you, just inches away from your body, but you didn’t cower or back away. if anything there was a playful smirk inevitably resting upon your lips.

now this, was going to be fun.

fun facts! —

sugawara has five rolls of film he had to get developed once they wrapped filming in osaka, each roll is from each city they went to for filming

iwaizumi and bokuto became really close friends when y/n left for la as they bonded over getting ghosted

bc of this,, bokuto posted a pic of him and iwa on his instagram and it got lots of attention that iwa went viral on stan twitter

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogrils @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[imaginingmyloki]

Shift in Reality (pt 2)

Word count: 2,120

A/N: ok so obviously this took way longer than I expected/promised it would. Life has been getting in the way of fun lately. As some of you know, A year ago I left home and moved across country to Arizona to discover myself/make a new life/have an adventure. Well now I am moving back home to Virginia and it has just been a wild few weeks. (more on that later) anyways, enjoy part 2! There will definitely be a part 3! I said in a few answers to anons yesterday that this would likely be the last part but it kinda took off from me and started writing itself haha. I am not going to give a promised date for part 3 but I do have a good chunk of it already written from cutting it out of this lol. I won’t be linking any youtube vids about her powers this time, if you check out part 1′s note there is a compilation video of Daisy Johnson using her powers and she is based off of Daisy. ok byyyeeee

“No this can’t be right... I was just with them. What is going on?” I was frantically looking around the room trying to figure out where the hell I was. “Ma’am you need to calm her down or we will have to sedate her.” One of the white coats told the woman with the familiar voice. The heart monitor next to me was beeping rapidly, adding to my anxiety. She moved slightly closer to me and grabbed my hand and started talking. I couldn’t focus on what she was saying but the familiar cadence of her voice was calming me down significantly. “I don’t understand why I’m here. Who are you?” she looked hurt when I asked her that question. One of the many people buzzing about the room checking on the machines quietly said “Some amnesia is really common in these situations. She will likely regain her memories as time passes.” the woman nodded sadly and kept talking to me even though I was not paying any attention to her and was trying to focus on all the details I could about the room I was in and the different faces coming and going. 

                                                 -At the Compound-

Loki was sitting next to my unconscious form reading when Bruce came in with a machine that looked like a very small version of an MRI. “This is S.H.I.E.L.D.s latest, top of the line medical equipment. It is essentially a mobile MRI but way more advanced in what it can pick up. I didn’t do one before but she’s been out for almost 24 hours and hasn’t even moved so I need to see what’s going on in there.” He positioned the machine near my head and Loki watched Bruce’s face go from curious to concerned in a matter of seconds. “What is it?” He asked. At this point Nat and Wanda had come over to check on me and joined the group to see what was happening. Bruce shook his head, “I have no idea. There is something foreign in her temporal lobe. It looks like it is sending electro magnetic pulses to her brain causing her hippocampus-” He looked around and had to remind himself to use more understandable wording for them,”-uh her memory and dream centers to light up like crazy. I wish we could get in there and see what was happening.” Everyone slowly turned to Wanda who nodded and said, “Ok move the machine out of the way.” as she approached me. 

“Well? What did you see? Is she ok?” Loki demanded when Wanda had finished. She sat on the end of the couch by my feet, “We have to get that thing out of her, guys. She didn’t even see me when I was right in front of her trying to get her attention. It has her in this fake reality where she was in a coma and just woke up in the hospital with someone I assume is meant to be her mother. And the worst part is that we don’t exist in that reality. We are just movie characters. She seems really confused but the doctors are saying she has amnesia and its common for coma patients to wake up thinking they were a part of their favorite fictional world. It looks like she is starting to believe them. She looks so lost and heart broken. I couldn’t pull her out of it.” Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes, no one having words for the situation. Wanda looked to Bruce “How is this possible?” He was quiet for a few more minutes before answering “The only thing I can think of is the Winter Soldier.” He put a hand up to stop the incoming questions from the group as he continued, “With Bucky, their first and most formidable success, they wiped his memory, emotionally and physically tortured him until he broke and they had total, absolute control of him. Until Steve. The programming used on Bucky, while it was effective, didn’t hold up against the memories surfacing. So other than the obvious technological upgrades of this new programming- if that is what’s happening- they realized their fatal flaw. They tried to completely wipe out memories and when they resurfaced it undid everything. Making (Y/N) think that she made us up, that we are fictional characters, and now that she has forgotten her own life will not only break her but it will solve the issue of us breaking the programming in the future. She thinks we only exist in her mind and on the screen. I wouldn’t be surprised if this reality they have her in starts to change into doctors discovering she has a mental disorder that comes with hallucinations. Now, after they wipe her memory, if we start showing up again, she will question her own sanity and not her handler’s orders because her most recent memories of us are going to be that she can’t trust her own mind.” Everyone stared at him in stunned silence. “We need to get Tony and the others in here and brief them now. and we need to find Nelson.” Nat said and quickly left the room.  Loki looked at Wanda and said, “Please keep watching her. I know you haven’t been able to connect to her but at least we will know what she is dealing with.”

                                                   -Y/N’s Mind-

This doesn’t feel right. Something is just off about this hospital, these people. After initially waking up and everyone fluttering around my room to check vitals and ask me 800 questions that I couldn’t answer, they finally left me alone to rest with the promise of checking on me throughout the night to wake me up and see if I remembered anything. The woman- my mom I had been told- was sleeping on a cot in the corner of the room lightly snoring. I had asked her what had happened and the story was that I had been at the beach with my family when a wave had caused me to hit my head on a rock under the surface. I had nearly drowned but my best friend, Paul, had been right there and dragged me back to shore. That was 4 months ago and I had been unconscious ever since. She had spent a couple hours telling me all about our life as I grew up. I was an only child and we had traveled all over the world throughout the years. Because of moving around and experiencing so many different places, I knew 15 different languages by the time I was 18. We had recently moved here to California and bought a house close to my grandparents. She was going to call them and tell them I could have visitors in a few days when my memories started catching up with me but was going to call Paul and have him come tomorrow and see if it would hopefully jog my memory. A nurse came in very early and quietly woke my mother, “Ma’am, we called the friend you asked us to have come in. Mr Nelson? He’s here.” My mother got up and went with the nurse. I hadn’t slept at all and was very tired but that name sent a jolt straight through me. I knew he had to be behind this somehow. I looked around for some kind of weapon I could use when he came into the room. There was nothing but the dull butter knife from my dinner that was still untouched from the night before by my bed. I grabbed it a slid it between the bed and my thigh then, I waited. The door opened and I heard my mother’s cheerful voice, “Oh, Paul, she is going to be thrilled to see you. Well, she may actually not remember you yet. We have been waiting on her memories to come back but so far nothing has.” A chuckle and a chilling voice that sent shivers down my spine and raised the hairs on my neck replied, “No worries at all. I have talked this girl through so many breakups, I’m sure I can talk her out of amnesia.”

As they came through the door, my entire body tensed as I locked eyes with Nelson. It was definitely him but he looked different. Casual and relaxed with almost friendly eyes. “(Y/n)! I am so happy to see you conscious! You gave me quiet the scare.” he made his way towards me and my mother backed out of the room with “I’ll give you two some time to talk.” and a hopeful smile. As soon as she shut the door, I had him pinned against the wall with the knife to his throat. “What is this, Nelson?!” The look of fear in his eyes made me hesitate and he pushed me off of him. “(Y/n), what are you doing? We have been friends for years. Wait, you remember me? But, since when do you call me Nelson?” I slowly backed up until my legs hit the bed and I sat down. A nurse came in to check on the commotion I had caused and Nelson - Paul? - told her we were fine. Satisfied, she nodded and closed the door behind her as she left. “Stop playing games. I know what this is, Nelson. Let me go.” I watched his face carefully but showed no signs of knowing what I was talking about. He gave me a concerned look and slowly made his way to the chair by my bed with his hands raised to show he wasn’t a threat. “(Y/n), I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Do you want me to get the nurse for you?” I rolled my eyes at his concern. Being trapped and the constant lack of answers were starting to fill me with a frustration that would typically have the room trembling around me but nothing was shaking except for my hands. As I clenched and unclenched my fists and took a few deep breaths to try and steady myself, I caught a glimpse of Nelsons face. It still had the mock concern plastered on like a mask but his eyes had a glint of amusement. He found my frustration and suffering amusing. The frustration bubbled over and I lunged for him, bringing both him and the chair to the ground. 

                                                 -The Compound-

  The compound shook violently as Loki used his body to shield my still unconscious form from the ceiling tiles and dust that was falling. “Why is this happening? Wanda, what is going on in there?” Tony asked as he came through the door followed by Nat, Steve and Bucky. Wanda explained the scene to them, “Nelson is in there with her under the pretense that he is her best friend. She’s on to him and just took him down but now they are fighting. She doesn’t have her powers in there so she’s struggling. Nurses and doctors are starting to come in to restrain her but she’s fighting them too.” The shaking stopped suddenly and Wanda gasped. When she didn’t say anything to explain the sudden calm, Loki inquired anxiously, “What happened? Is she ok?” Wanda nodded but was still watching the scene unfold in my mind. “They started it over. She’s waking up in a strange hospital again but it looks slightly different than the first one. It is exactly the same situation. They are telling her she has been in a coma for months and that she is finally waking up for the first time. Now she’s seen the tv showing you guys in New York again and she looks even more confused.” Everyone rushed around to clean up the area and Tony said “Loki, I set up space for her downstairs to keep anything like this contained and to keep her safe should Hydra try and take her. You and Wanda take her down there and watch over her while the rest of us clean this up.” Loki gently lifted me and he and Wanda headed towards what had once been my holding cell before the team decided they could trust me. 

“We need to bring Wanda back up here.” Nat said to Steve. They had just brought in Nelson. Bruce had figured out that Nelson had a device in his temporal lobe as well that was linked to the device in mine and had been able to track him using that connection. He had been unconscious when they had found him, likely because he was inside the fake reality with me and she knew that Wanda was the only one who may be able to get the information we needed about how to save me.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32-Epilogue

When he’d agreed to let Lucy move in with them, Natsu could admit it wasn’t the greatest idea to make a snap decision, because inside he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Plus, it had also put Gray in a tough position, because he knew his friend wouldn’t be so heartless to kick out a female with a problem. Yeah, that was kind of a dick move for which he’ll be paying once the dust had settled. Especially now that they were finding out, just how difficult it was really going to be...

Nightmares? More like night terrors. It wasn’t every single night, but Lucy would often wake Natsu up at all hours as if reliving the events of the kidnapping. Physical movements, from fighting a Touka memory. The whines and screams, sometimes blood curdling shrieks as she’d shoot up in bed covered in a film of sweat, hyperventilating and still in the midst of an unseen attack. It was bad enough that Natsu started sleeping on his side, so if Lucy started swinging, his back took the brunt of it. He’d have to grab her arms and just hold her, doing his best to keep his voice low or soft, until she fully awoke from the dream state and collapsed into his arms in sheer exhaustion. Heaven help him, if this is what Levy had gone through for months, the woman deserved a Nobel peace prize for staying sane. After two weeks of this, Gray arranged with Levy to use Lucy’s room. He didn’t want to abandon Lucy, but the lack of sleep was starting to affect his school and job. It left Natsu all alone with his girlfriend, and frankly it was affecting him too. Not only the mental struggles, but the physical exhaustion made it difficult for him to get his job done. Makarov was a saint for being so understanding through it all.

“You look tired today,” Natsu’s therapist questioned in a toned statement. “I take it you’re still not getting enough sleep.”

The bags under his eyes were a dead giveaway to anyone that saw him. “Is it really that obvious?” Natsu responded with a bit of sarcasm to his tone.

“Is it your own demons or Lucy’s?”

“A mix of both.”

“Have you told her about your struggles or are you still hiding it. You know it’s better if you be honest with her.”

Way to go for the kill shot. The therapist went straight to the heart of things. Natsu sighed, “I told her a little... when she’d admitted being worried I’d leave her.”

“What did you say exactly?”

He fidgeted in the chair. “Well... literally, just that. I was just trying to kill her fears not worrying about my own at the time.”

“Ah. Well, maybe it’s time. You’ve told me that you’re trying hard to help her to get over her own struggles, but Natsu, you also need to take your own advice.”

Turn of the screws. But the therapist was right. “I know. I just worry it’ll add to her worries, which will make it worse, a-and that’s not gonna help either of us.”

“I think you should have more faith in Lucy. As you are her strength, she can be just as much yours. Don’t dismiss the idea before you even try it. If she feels like she’s helping you, it will give her a sense of accomplishment too, just like it gives you when you feel like you’re helping her.”

When the therapist put it that way, Natsu couldn’t help but pause and reflect on it, because damn the woman was making a lot of sense! Why did he fall in love with Lucy in the first place? Because of her feisty personality, that’s why. Had he forgotten? The real Lucy was still in there, it just needed to find its way back to the surface. There’s no harm in being honest about feeling scared or guilty. Kind of bare his heart to her in a way.

“Alright. I’ll give it a shot.”

He knew if he’d waited to confront this, he’d find an excuse not to do it. So that night after dinner, Natsu sat Lucy down for a heart to heart and bore his soul. His fears, his guilt, how the brave face he showed her day after day really just hid his own pain and insecurities over the situation. It was difficult and freeing at the same time to get it off his chest.

“Thank you for telling me, Natsu... that actually makes me feel a little better, because I thought I was going through it alone all this time. I mean, you being positive helps to keep me a little grounded, but it also made me feel like a burden. I want to help you as much you help me.”

“Are you sure? I just don’t want to add to your struggles.”

“I can’t tell you it won’t always be easy, so, all I can tell you is right now is I don’t think it will.”

“Okay— then promise me that you’ll say something if it is, a-and we’ll figure out something else.”

Lucy took Natsu’s hands in her own, “now that, I will promise.”

But despite their decision to co-fight, Natsu still took the initiative for Lucy and himself to figure out how to make things better... or lose his sanity in trying. He scoured psychology websites, searching for therapy’s and techniques used for PTSD, anxiety, depression, or anything related that might be useful, even meditation. It was a lot of work, but the information was useful, and he learned a lot about helping Lucy and himself to heal. Some of the horror stories were difficult to read, yet many of the survivors stories he came across provided the much needed encouragement to get through this ordeal.

The first thing Natsu decided to tackle was the nightmares, and to do that he’d learned he first needed to deal with the underlying causes. Pent up emotions being unleashed in Lucy’s subconscious as she slept were producing these horrific night terrors. With suggestions from both his therapist as well as Lucy’s, Natsu encouraged her every night before bed to write, write anything that came to mind, and he gently coaxed her into letting go of the worst thoughts. Unleash it onto the page, as the therapist put it. Then, together they would meditate using a relaxation technique he’d found appealing. Meditation wasn’t something Natsu thought he’d take a liking to, or even believed would work. But after learning more about it, decided it was worth a shot. 

Everyone he knew used to tell him, it’s about clearing your mind of all thoughts... yeah, uh-huh, who the hell can pull that off? No, in this other technique it started off by saying that’s almost impossible, and that immediately caught his attention. It taught them about learning to control instead, to have thoughts, but focus them, compartmentalize them away and let them become background static you could more easily ignore through habituation. Ever wonder how a person can sleep near an airport or a train track? It’s because you get used to the sound. Once that’s done, you zero in on something you do want to think about, a nice memory, a sound, whatever you choose. Let it soothe and relax you until the next thing you know, your mind wants nothing more than to fall away into dreamland.

It took a few days of pushing Lucy through each step, because at first, she really did not want to rehash, even in a fictional way, the events of the kidnapping. So, Natsu would pull her onto his lap, with his arms around her waist while she held the paper and pen, closely monitoring her body language. The tensing and shaking were his first signs... ‘it’s okay, let it go...’ he’d whispered and tightened his hold, continuing the positive mantras, ‘you’re safe now, you can do this, I’ve got ya...’ Next came the release in the form of tears. A trickle, like a cracking of a dam, until it burst forth. Words on paper and liquid trails along her cheeks, but it was a good thing. All the anger and negativity flowing out instead of walled up in her mind. After a couple of weeks, the techniques were showing signs of working. Lucy awoke less and less because of the nightmares. She was still having some, but they weren’t to the same degree or frequency they’d once been.

“Yup... uh-huh, n-no, really, I am doing much better Lev. Yeah, we’ll visit tomorrow.... That sounds awesome. It’s be awhile since I’ve eaten sushi... I’m pretty sure... I’ll be okay, I promise… Yeah, we’ll meet you at Genki Zushi… Uh-huh, you too Levy. Good night.”

As soon as Lucy hung up her phone call, Natsu checked to make sure she really was okay with the plan to go out for dinner. It’d been just over three months since Lucy went anywhere aside from the doctors or police station willingly.

“I need to do this,” she stammered, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I can’t stay locked away forever.”

Natsu kissed her on the forehead. “I’m really proud of you babe.”

“I’m proud of us both,” Lucy smiled. “But I couldn’t do this without your support.”

Such a simple phrase meant the world to Natsu. After the last two months of struggle, his therapists advice was coming to fruition, or at least his truly believing it was possible. They were on the road to healing and nothing felt better than that, because one of the hardest legs of their journey was coming up fast.

[eccl3ctic0n3]

This Is My Personal Testimony of How God Found Me When I Was Lost.

I Am A Witness and My Testimony is of Jesus Christ the living Word of God

What you FEEL and what you THINK are valid and extremely powerful as these are the things you BELIEVE to be TRUTH thus this is your REALITY!

This is your belief system. Unless you suffer from mental illness therapy and counseling can be very helpful. Just talking about it and getting it off your chest is therapeutic in itself. No matter if it is a friend or a therapists getting things out instead of bottling them up and holding them in is great relief.

I was diagnosed bipolar type I when I was 23 years old. I am 41 now and it has only been in the last 5 years that I have been able to overcome, heal, grow, and experience breakthrough.

Traumatic experiences such as verbal, mental, emotional, physical, or sexual abuse to losing a loved one or friend has a lifelong affect. Therapy and medicine are just tools to help you and give you the skills, knowledge, and some understanding, so you can cope and learn how to manage with the pain and symptoms that remain.

I don't know who needs to hear this but I am telling you from 18 years of personal experience. Actually, 41 years as its only been 18 since I began treatment. Where doctors and medicine failed me for 13 years God did not fail me. I got lab ratted on all that time with powerful psychiatric medications. I spiraled out of control and my behavior landed me in the psychiatric ward of prison in the infirmary. 10 weeks I was locked in solitary confinement on 24 hour lock. I was deemed incompetent and unfit to stand trial. I was looking at two F1 Felonies with sentences from 5-99 years each. For 10 weeks I literally lost my mind and was experiencing full blown psychosis. It was in an instant that God found me and restored me to sanity. I did not find God. He found me.

I was lost and could not tell the difference between my dreams and reality. I slept in 15 minute intervals. In one dream I dreamt that I murdered my two children. I bashed my daughters head into the wall. My reality was this place I was in where no other person is visible was like a purgatory and I was awaiting my judgment to be thrown into hell.

I was on my knees in my boxers bleeding from my head and knuckles. I was head butting and punching the walls. As I was on my knees I was singing, ''My Girl, My Girl, Talkin Bout, My Girl." I was only thinking of my daughter and that I was never going to see her again.

The guy in a cell next to me screamed, " Shut the fuck up!" I just screamed back and told him to come on over and shut me up. What was he going to do we are in solitary confinement. 😅

I lost track of time and I was still singing and I began to cry out to God. Literally bawling and begging I screamed for God to help me. Don't you know the guy who cursed me came to my door and asked me to call his momma for him to bail him out. I laughed and said ain't you the same mother fucker who told me to shut up? Before he answered I just said whatever! Just write the number on a piece of paper and slide it under my door and I will get to it.

Mind you that for those 10 weeks I could not even read or use the telephone because I just didn't know how. The hands on the clock just spun round and round. Still on my knees sobbing I noticed the piece of paper slide under my door. I forgot all about it and I couldn't read or use a phone anyway. But I looked closer and I seen the red writing. This guy tore the last page of his bible out to write the number on. The red writing just caught my eyes and the first thing I seen was this. Revelations 22:16 I Jesus, have sent My angel to you to testify in the churches. I am the Root and Offspring of David, the Bright and Morning Star. As fast as you could snap your fingers I realized that I could read first of all. I then noticed I felt completely normal. I was just wondering wtf am I doing in my boxers bleeding on this floor? 😅 I got up took a shower and cleaned up. The guard came by and stopped giving me a strange look and asked if I was ok. I just said Im fine Im waiting on lunch its almost noon. I could read the time cause the hands stopped spinning.

Finally I got to use the phone and I called home and asked how long I was there. I said 2 weeks? My mom said you been there almost 3 months. I did 6 months and got both charges dropped down to a misdemeanor and 4 years probation. 2 years was deferred. I literally signed out of jail on a PR Bond. No fines, fees, or court costs at all.

That was 5 years ago in October. I never could forget or deny what happened. I knew immediately what the verse meant and what I was told to do. So I have done it this entire time everyday almost on social media.

I had never read a bible before and I was far away from God. I was really on the fence about the whole Jesus thing. What I know now and I knew at that moment was this. Jesus is God! He is the Father, the Son of God, and the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of God and of Christ. There is only one. Omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, and Sovereign Lord over all of creation.

I believe the words of the verse exactly for what they said. He sent an angel to me which is a ministering spirit and a messenger. I got the message loud and clear. So I do exactly as He has told me to.

It has been 5 years and I have not even had a cold. My doctor is weaning me off medications. It was by no means an easy 5 years at all. I suffered with overcoming addiction and the mental illness symptoms I was and still am learning to cope and manage.

There is one thing I learned in addition to all these things since then in talk therapy. I was raised by two narcissistic, one mentally ill, and completely abusive except sexually.

After all those years and all those medications and numerous doctors did not do for me what the Great Physician did in a moment of time.

Don't get me wrong. God has revealed to me that He has gifted these doctors, nurses, therapists, and the scientists or chemists that make these medications. Give or take these crooked sons of bitches.

Just know that God is Hope. Faith or Belief and any good thing at all about man is of God. He is Love. How is Jesus God? All things are possible with God. Just trust Him. Don't worry or be afraid. He has commanded us to be strong and courageous for He is with us wherever we go. He will never leave us or forsake us. He is faithful to keep His word. If He said it. He meant it. It is the Truth. Jesus said His words are Spirit and Truth. These words are Life and Jesus is the Way. The one and only true living God is the living Word of God. He was manifest in the flesh. The holy bible has been tampered with by man and today even more with hundreds of versions. However, man is foolish to think he could ever stop the Power of the Spirit and Truth that is the Word of God Jesus Christ.

Is the Father the Son or the Spirit? Is He 3 in one or one in 3? Don't split hairs with vain debates and argumentative subjects that no man can answer. There are simply things of God that man will never understand. Our finite minds cannot imagine, fathom, dream, or even comprehend the great things of God. He just said don't trip. I got this. Be still and know. Trust Me and Believe In Me. Have Faith! Never give up Hope. Without Hope this Life has no purpose and we have meaning at all. There is just certain death. Then we are worm food.

If it is all just a big story and we die only to find out that's it just black and nothing then fine with me. If we die and it is true and we chose not to simply believe and have the faith the size of a mustard seed. We'd be cursing ourselves not God from hell forever. We would know He was right and we have no defense or a word to say before the righteous Judge.

Life and death. Facts. Choose life or death. It is the most logical, reasonable, sane, and simple choice for anyone in their right mind. So anyone who says its blind faith and completely disregards facts, logic, or reason. You know just as God says. He has used the foolishness of this world for His wisdom. He makes those who are wise in their own eyes, puffed up with pride, and too stubborn or hard hearted to simply admit they do not know. Men fear what they do not know. Rightfully so. You should fear God. Both revere and be a very afraid of the One that can take your life and cast your soul into hell. He gives and takes away. Simple as that.

So remember no matter what the situation or circumstances shit is just temporary. All good things must come to an end. As do the bad. So suck it up, be strong and courageous. Has He not commanded us? He is with you wherever and nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.

To anyone suffering right now I am by no means minimizing your pain. I feel you 1000% You don't have to believe a word from me. Just know there is someone who is always with you and you are not helpless or alone. You may be weak and in complete darkness that seems like hell. God is light in the darkness. He has the keys to death and hell. So weather life or death, heaven or hell. You gotta trust and believe in Jesus. If not it is your own doing. Most of our problems are self inflicted we bring em on ourselves.

This may be the hardest part for me to tell someone in depression just dwelling and can't let go. Do you know what depression is. It is YOUR THOUGHTS and YOUR FEELINGS. It is therefore YOUR BELIEF and thus YOUR REALITY!

This is self-centeredness. Depression for a while that is justified is one thing. Wallowing in SELF-PITY with the attitude WOE IS ME. MY LIFE SUCKS and nobody understands or knows what I I I am going through. No one could possibly relate to YOUR SUPERIOR PROBLEMS! GET OUT OF YOURSELF for a while. Have an attitude of gratitude. You are alive and if you can feel emotions and you woke up today then you KNOW that you are alive. LIFE is a gift from of GOD. He so loved all of us that He GAVE HIS LIFE so that anyone who BELIEVES in HIM Should Not Perish...SHOULD NOT! But HAVE RIGHT NOW AS IN THIS PRESENT MOMENT. EVERLASTING LIFE. God gave us HOPE of ETERNAL LIFE the FREE GIFT of SALVATION is the LORD OUR GOD JESUS CHRIST the ONLY BEGOTTEN of the EVERLASTING FATHER the King of Israel is the Holy One (Christ) or Anointed (Messiah) our SAVIOR and REDEEMER. Not by might nor by power but by that Holy Spirit of PROMISE which is the PLEDGE of our inheritance.

The only reason one would die when God gave us His Life so that anyone whomsoever at all Believes. The Way is the Truth and He has become our Salvation. He is the very HOPE, FAITH, and LOVE that abides forever. LOVE being the greatest. No one SHOULD die. It is a choice!!! Just like you choose to wake up and be grateful saying Thank You God. Bless you Lord Jesus for the Spirit translated "Breath or Air" of Life and the LIGHT we all see and we have heard the word of God preached and proclaimed to us all. So no one has an excuse to even say I Dont Believe! That is our free will and choice. Another gift from God. He wants you to choose Jesus and dont worry but be happy. Rejoice!! Make some noise!! God is good all the time. All the time God is good. We all have a reason for the very BREATH of LIFE that was blown into Adam's nostrils and he became a living soul. Adam just means man. Human. In His image and likeness. Male and female created He them. If you believe in Jesus and the Good News aka Gospel of the Kingdom and Eternal Life you have every reason on every Day the Lord has made to be grateful and choose to be happy. The Eternal One is the Alpha and Omega. The Ancient of Days is the First and the Last. The Almighty. Beginning and End. Genesis to Revelation. Death and Life He gives and takes away.

I pray you don't waste another moment having a pity party if you don't have an actual reason to be stuck feeling sad for an excessive period of time. It is selfish. Ungrateful.

Your THOUGHTS and FEELINGS are powerful. They are YOURS though. You and you alone have a God given free gift of grace to Think for yourself and Regulate or Control Your Feelings and Emotions. It takes time and it's a process of growing up and becoming a man or woman. He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of POWER, LOVE, AND A SOUND MIND. SELF DISCIPLINE your MIND. We have the MIND of Christ. The Spirit of God and of Christ. The Kingdom of heaven is within. God the Father, the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit is all within. What does it say? The Word is near to you, in your heart, even in your mouth.

It is Finished!

Revelation 22:16 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

16 “I, Jesus, have sent Mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the Bright and Morning Star.”

Isaiah 44:6-8 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

6 “Thus saith the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts: I am the First, and I am the Last, and besides Me there is no God.

7 And who, as I, shall call and shall declare it, and set it in order for Me, since I appointed the ancient people? And the things that are coming and shall come, let them show unto them.

8 Fear ye not, neither be afraid. Have not I told thee from that time and have declared it? Ye are even My witnesses. Is there a God besides Me? Yea, there is no God. I know not any.”

[thebookofus-depravity]

Skinny Bone Jones

Skinny Bone Jones

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 coming soon!

9k words

This is my baby Park Jaehyung and an AU in which y’all are dealing with the coronavirus together in LA. Jae grew up with Y/N and you were childhood friends. You stayed close but haven’t seen each other in ages. Now you’re both back.

 Teeth rotting fluff, possible smut in future chapters (lets see if I have the balls to post it), Y/N has a strong proclivity for a certain guitarists hands. And honestly, who can blame her? TW: Confrontation with a nasty old ex, Coronavirus,  Quarantine, overbearing parents.

...

This fucking sucks.

Closing your laptop, and shoving it off of your lap to the side of your bed, you are struck by exactly how warm the underside of your Netflix Machine was in contrast to the chilly room. Well, 3 hours of To Catch a Predator in, and sure, your old 2011 Dell dinosaur is going to be a little mad at you. I've got to do something today. Anything. 

Week 3 of your quarantine is coming to a close and on this breezy LA Thurs-Fri-Turday (who the hell knows anymore) you can feel the last tendrils of your sanity escaping with the setting sun. It just doesn't stop setting. And rising. And setting. And rising. Tortuously slow some days and before you can even get out of bed the next. Not that you get out of bed much.

Alright. That's it. I'm gonna do something. I have to. It's time to make some art, bake some cookies, go for a run, tell someone around me how much I value them, topple the patriarchy. I am going to get up and do something with my life and damned if I get in my own way again. I am unstoppable. I am formidable. I am inevitable. 

Rising from your rumpled bed clothes with the steadfastness of a slightly anemic Viking (whoa I’m woozy, I shouldn't have stood up so fast. Shit, when's the last time I ate?) you cross to the large bay window that faces the street. You throw your curtains open, ready to face the day, only to be faced with… stars starting to twinkle at you out of the inky blackness. Dammit. I'm gonna have to defeat systemic oppression tomorrow. 

Squinting from behind your glasses, you see that the stars are not stars at all but helicopters blinking down at you. You haven't seen real stars since your trip to Big Sur last summer. Although you moved to LA when you were 7, you have vague recollections of the Korea that you loved as a young child. Your parents had picked up and moved to the States after years of struggling through VISA's and citizenship red tape. Your mom and dad had originally meant to get married and have you in the US. The land of opportunity. 

You now chafed slightly under that blanket of opportunity as you are far too aware of the responsibility you have been given to make the absolute most of it. From the ripe old age of 8 you had been conditioned to follow your dreams to their fullest. As long as those dreams were to become a doctor, lawyer, or marry a CEO. Your parents cared about you greatly and you knew that. They only want security for you, happiness comes from security. Now 25, you can't quite remember the last time their overbearing nature had been quite this...potent. You were in your final year of medical school at USC and there was nowhere to run.  It was time for you to begin your foray into the 'real world' of residency. The same post-undergrad 'real world' that you had watched all of your non-premed friends crash land into. They had all distanced themselves from you, both figuratively and literally; intentionally and inadvertently. Divorced, Beheaded, Died: Divorced, Beheaded, Survived. You had watched you friends get married, have kids, sabotage marriages, buy houses, do well, do poorly. And here you were in some kind of bubble both safe and isolated from all of the uncertainty beyond the classroom. 

Jokes on you, Jessica, now we're all screwed, you find yourself thinking for the upteenth time over the past month. You had been watching the Coronavirus since December and knew exactly what was to come. You did all that you were capable of as a not-quite certified medical professional and tried to convince people of the reality of the threat, convince them not to panic, and to exercise a reasonable level of preparedness. Well, that didn't work. You found yourself sunk into a deep well of frustration and futility at the action and inaction that was being exhibited throughout the States. For the first weeks of quarantine you found yourself glued to your phone, helplessly watching the tragedy unfold and the stupidity that was ensuing. By week 2 your empathy had burnt out and you knew you couldn't watch that world anymore. K-drama's it is. After completely obliterating Crash Landing on You, Itaewon Class, and rewatching Descendants of the Sun for the eighth time just because it's so. damn. cute!, your parents started to get a little concerned. 

Your stomach growled and you realize you, in fact, haven't eaten since early this morning. As you consider what the consequences of emerging from your cave of a bedroom might have, you resign yourself. Five minutes later you are hovering in the kitchen with a bowl of leftover whateverthefuck in hand, you turn to see both of your parents at the bar stools staring at you with a look of concern that you haven't seen in years. Shit, I keep forgetting, they think I'm functional.  Your parents had shipped you off to Health Careers College Prep school, a boarding school in Sacramento, when you were 16. Upon graduation there with your high school diploma, nurses aid, and dental hygienist's certificates, you immediately started at USC premed. You hadn't lived at home since your Jonas Brother's phase. As much as your parents loved you, they didn't really know you. This had been overwhelmingly obvious when the USC campus closed and you returned home to open arms and your bedroom frozen in the clutches of 2009. Your parents had welcomed you home with tearful hugs and a new gift for your room. I know how much you love that Kevin- boy. And your room is so old. Come. Come. Already wary and wondering who the hell is Kevin? you allowed yourself to be led to your old room and set your bags down with a deadened thump. You tried so hard not to laugh, You really did.  They're trying so hard. But like, Where did they even find this monstrosity? You had been staring up at the largest poster of Kevin Jonas that you had ever seen every night for 3 weeks and it was starting to get to you. 

Regardless of the decor (purple fuzzy lamp shade included), there were so many parts of living at home that were so foreign to you.  Although everything was completely the same, you were worlds different and it was disorienting. Your bed seemed smaller, the walls shorter, the colors dimmer. Everything that made that house your home was still there, only you had changed. It was like you were in a coma and had just woken up, the rest of the world unchanged but with 10 more years under your belt. Your therapist would tell you that you were reverting into a childlike state because of trauma and surroundings. Hush, Mollie, I don't need that right now. I need food. 

Food was honestly what was keeping you sane and civil. Your parents own a pho shop just down the street that was still taking carry out and delivery orders for pho, crawfish, whatever they had lying around. You had been helping out in the kitchen and with deliveries since you had been home. As freeing as the drives have been, you really come alive in the kitchen. You had been watching your mom make pho and dumplings for years and although she sent kimchi to your apartment every month or so, you missed your moms cooking. And her kitchen. You immediately took to cooking just like you had when you moved off of USC campus and into an apartment with some friends. You had 12 burners! That all worked! A convection oven! Two of them! Kitchen Aid's! You had no problem opening up shop at 8am every morning to prep the dough and get the stock boiling and all of the other things that her mother and father had been doing for the past 20 years. 

Returning to your room after rinsing out your bowl and chopsticks, and exchanging goodnight's with your parents you sit on your bed and tell yourself to go to bed. You have to be up at 7am for the kitchen. You need to chop scallions for the pork and chive dumplings so it has time to coagulate. Come on, Go to bed. No phone. It was a pitiful attempt, really. You had been pulling med-school grade all-nighters since your junior year of high school and nothing was stopping you now. Turning on your side for easy access to your charger, you plug your phone and coast through Instagram, Youtube, Twitter, Tinder for an indeterminate amount of time before your eyes start to get heavy. Instagram was just filled with all of your peers from USC recklessly meeting up with friends for picnics and drives and all of the other things they thought they were free to do because they were young and healthy and beautiful. Fuck off. Youtube provided a lovely escape from the actual outside. Mikey Chen showed you around TaiPei's street food scene, Binging with Babish gave you a new hand pulled noodle recipe to try, Bon Appetit made you glad you weren't Claire Saffitz. Tinder was a joke but an adequately funny one. Instead of your bog standard USC fuckboi's you were able to talk to fuckboi's from Korea, Dubai, Indonesia, Guatemala, Brazil. How fun. You had downloaded it 6 months prior after yet another guy in your department was just 'too busy, i'm sorry' to make the date that you had planned. You generally tried to avoid Twitter as it was just an echo chamber of panic and 24 hour news cycles and didn't do much for your anxiety. See, Mollie? I'm being smart. 

You flick open the little bird app and scroll for just a minute. A particular notification picques your attention. Jae tweeted. Well, Day6 tweeted, but we all know who runs their twitter. Your throat tightens with nerves as the post loads. You worry about him more than you'd like to admit but with tours cancelled and travel suspended, you know how hard it can be for people whose livelihoods revolve around entertainment and travel. The post loads and you let out a sigh of relief to see Jae surrounded by his band mates and smiling. Brian starts speaking Korean and delivers his message about their newly acquired tiktok. Brian gestures for Jae to speak and Jae delivers the same message in English. Ah, he went back to blonde. It looks good on him. Wait is he- oh god, he's wearing a crossbody fanny pack. Jae, you're old. Stop. Shifting to get more comfortable, you let the video loop a few times before closing the app. Jae's okay. You roll over onto your side and set your phone to the side. Jae's voice echoes through your ears for the next few minutes but you resolve yourself against it. I'm not getting fucking tiktok. I'm a grown ass woman. That app is for 12 year olds. And Jae. Resolved, you burrow into your Jonas brothers duvet cover for the night. 

Sweating and on the verge of tears, you wake with a start. The dream was already slipping from your consciousness with a blessed haste but the uneasy feeling that the nightmare gave you seemed to coat the inside of your skull and taint it's entire contents. A thin light filters through your still open window and your eyes creak open. Morning? Sure, why not? Rolling over, you flick open your phone and are greeted by an all too unfamiliar, 5:17am. It's too damn early. Even for you. You still have an hour or so to kill before you have to get up but you didn't fancy the idea of trying to go back to sleep after that dream. Propping yourself up on a few of the approximately 67 pillows that litter your twin sized bed, you open your phone. 3 new emails from USC congratulating you on your graduation and asking for some documentation of something or another or evaluation of some class you hadn't thought of in weeks. Skip. 2 emails from residencies that you had applied to before the coronavirus urging you to reapply in the fall. Great. You couldn't even bring yourself to feign concern over the missed opportunity. 1 email from Twitter informing you that Jae had tweeted. Again. You follow the link to another video of his side project EaJ. You had been following his new releases and you were surprised by the tenderness and vulnerability that they showed. He was always such a funny guy, it was the only side that he really showed much to the media. Sure, fans got glimpses at concerts, but not many knew just how deep the well ran in that man. 

Today's Tuesday, apparently. The next episode of How Did I Get Here? comes out today. I'll have something to listen to while I food prep. You never admitted to yourself how pleased you were when he started the podcast. You missed hearing his voice on a regular basis. Hollered up into your window, whispered between giggles in the back-most church pew, hurled across crowded hallways. Of course, the voice was different than it is now. Pocked by pubescence and the LA accent, you remember a far squeakier Jae. He was the first person you met when you moved into the neighborhood at 7 years old. He was 9 so of course, he took it upon himself to show you exactly where you could and couldn't go and what taco trucks would give out fare for free to little kids on weekends.  You remember those years fondly as finally having the big brother you never had. Skinny Bone Jones, you called him. He stood up for you when the kids in middle school called you smelly for bringing kimchi in your lunch. He called you smelly just for being you. He was well liked in school and by extension so were you. You had the cool big brother. You were more than happy to play second fiddle and be his backup. Tagging along to parties, helping him record his yellow post-it note covers on Youtube, letting him know when his hair looked stupid.

 And so it stayed until Jae actually made it on KPop Star. As much as you loved him, you didn't think he would ACTUALLY make it. Sure, he could sing. He had a beautiful voice but that wasn't enough. The boy danced like a drunk chicken and was 6ft tall and 120lbs soaking wet. He didn't even know Korean. What was he thinking? He was thinking he was going to prove you wrong. And he did. You watched as Skinny Bone Jones transformed into Park Jaehyung with a perfect balance of immense pride and terror. You knew you wouldn't lose your friend entirely but during his trainee days he had very limited access to the outside world, and you just weren't a priority. Honestly,  you would've been offended if you had been. He has a mom, dad, an older sister, bandmates, college. It only makes sense that the steady stream of communication turned into a trickle. It wasn't until Every Day6 that you were more of an insistent presence in his life. You burrowed your way back into his inbox with the tenacity of the annoying little sister that you were. You were worried. You watched him on After School Club and in the deluge of content that Day6 was serving their slowly growing fanbase. He looked tired. You once again rekindled your relationship but it was different now. Instead of you leaning on him for social support, you became his confidant. He was struggling. Burnt out, and questioning so many things, he didn't want to go to his bandmates because he didn't want them to worry. His parents would pull him immediately if they knew exactly how rough his condition was, his 'friends' from college had proved fake. He now had Alpha Phi Omega blocked because they wouldn't stop asking for favors: Day6 tickets, Twice merch, Got7 tickets. He felt alone but you reached out and he was able to lean on you. The trials passed and he was happier than ever and Day6's growing popularity meant good things for his lobster funds. 

You stayed in contact over the years and shared with each other the going on's of your lives. You had even managed to go to the Gravity World Tour date in LA. Jae got you backstage and you were able to meet the rest of his bandmates that you had heard so much about. It was an act of God that you managed to keep your composure. I mean sure, he's just Jae but you're still backstage at a concert for the first time! Your cheeks still redden when you remember how Jae caught you ogling at YoungK. Heart in your throat, and voice barely above a whisper YoungK had walked directly over to you and asked what you were doing backstage. After a solid 15 seconds of pointing listlessly at your Press badge and making just the strangest of noises that were meant to approximate speech, Jae finally caught wind and rushed over, knocking your sense back into you and introducing you to the members. 

Oh! Y/N! It's so nice to finally meet you! Jae talks about you all the time, I'm so glad you were able to make it! Your cheeks inexplicably reddened further to a violent shade of pink but the boys slowly defanged themselves in your mind. They're truly lovely people and you're glad Jae has them. That being said, you still can't quiiiite look Brian in the eyes and Jae thinks it's hilarious. 

The Gravity tour feels like ages ago as you shrug on some jeans and a tee shirt for your walk to the shop. August 2019 at the Novo may have only been 8 months ago but it seems like a different reality. The Novo will be closed for the forseeable future and concerts are cancelled. That stings but not as much as the radio silence from Jae. First it was his tour schedule that rendered communication difficult and now the virus. You know he's busy and it's been a weird few months for the entertainment industry, but a 'Hey I'm alive.' would be nice. From his podcasts and twitter you've been able to keep some thread attached but you feel it stretching thin as the months stretch on. You really don't want to be annoying. You're sick of feeling like a fan. Yeah, you support Jae and Day6 and would call yourself a MyDay, but that's not all you are. You know him. You dragged him through the mud when he convinced you to try sledding down a muddy hill on a trash can lid. You set up his camcorder for his covers when he still had that stupid swoopy hair. You posed as his angry girlfriend when a crazy fan wouldn't leave him alone.  You're starting to feel like just a fan and not a friend and it's only exacerbated by the glee that you feel when you get the notification from dive studios that How Did I Get Here? has updated. I miss my friend. 

Not bothering to flip the sign on the front door from closed to open, you shoulder open the front door of the shop after fumbling with the keys. Tying an apron securely around your waist, and flicking on your noise cancelling headphones to a comforting thrum, you wash your hands and begin to chop the largest pile of scallions you've ever seen. Crunching through the pile, you start Jae's podcast and everything is gone but him. You can almost imagine him in the room with you, perched on the counter talking your ear off about the Mandela effect or how weird elbows are or something equally as ridiculous. Today he's talking about soul mates. As you listen to him joke and banter and pontificate, your eyes well up. It's just the scallions. You know damn well it's only partially the scallions. You miss Jae. And you're in the middle of a pandemic. And your family barely knows you. And you're not sure if you even want to be a pediatric oncologist. Fuck. Jae's words turn into white noise in your ears as you toss your headphones to the side and place the knife on the butchers block, perhaps more aggressively than necessary. You pause the podcast and let yourself sit in the feeling. You're lonely and sad. See Mollie? I'm letting myself feel things. Making room for every emotion. You cast your mind around and recall all of the little wounds that prick a little too deep today. You feel a squeeze in your abdomen and your eyes shoot open wide. Shit, my period. I've got to be PMSing. Even Jae recognized the trend in your emotions before you did. The week before your period, you were notoriously mushy and weepy and indulgent. Well, that's one mystery solved. I'll be okay. Mollie's voice echoed through your brain with her familiar argument that hormones only heighten the emotional distress, not fabricate it. These feelings are valid and aren't fake just because you're hormonal. You steadfastly ignore that point, wipe your eyes, and pull your headphones back on. You finish up the pile of scallions and a few other morning chores before the podcast ends. It's Jae's sign off that sends the bowl of mandu filling that you were holding clattering to the floor. "I'm coming to you from my childhood home, so if the audio is a little finnicky… blame Byron." Jae's home.

…

After sweeping up a pound of pork, beef, mirin, soy sauce, and chives and disposing of it, you stare at your phone- hands shaking slightly. Jae. What the fuck. You rip off your apron and your mind races. Should I call him? Should I go see him? I can’t believe he’s right here. 2 houses down. Fuck. Your rational brain knows that it’s okay to feel excited about Jae being home. But the sneaky little bitch that lives in the back of your brain is telling you that if he wanted to hear from you, he would’ve called. You feel a little bit of yourself fragment at that, but you push it to the side. You open up your phone and slide over to his contact in your phone. What greets you is your last text conversation.

Jae: I’m so glad you had fun, Y/N! But if you ever look at Brian like that again, I might have to put a ban on you at our concerts. His head was way too big.

Y/N: Look at him like what?! I didn’t do anything and you know it! 

Jae: Of course you’re didn‘t. You totally weren’t drooling over my bassist. 

Y/N: Fuck off.

Jae: Gladly, love. ;)

8 months ago. Sure you’d DM’d quite a bit since then and called a few times. But it just seemed so sparse. You don’t want him to just humor you. You’re an adult and perfectly capable of being alone. You’re not going to text him just yet. 

You finish up your morning chores and head back to your house, pausing for perhaps just a little too long in front of the sandstone house with the tan shutters and shoes out front. You knew that house so well. You knew how much weight the tree outside the upstairs bedroom window could hold. You knew where the kimchi refrigerator was tucked away in a back corner of the garage. You knew there was a blonde boy in there that you wanted nothing more than to run inside and get a hug from. 

You shower and let the hot water run over you, hoping it will relax the knotted up muscles in your back. It’s not like I can go see him anyway. We’re in quarantine. He probably just got back to LA and just hasn’t gotten the chance to-. You run the same conversation over and over in your head until you can’t take it anymore. You need someone else’s voice in your head. Curling into your covers, you sigh and go to the App Store. A few short minutes later and you hate yourself more than you ever have. Tiktok. Here we go. You watch the video of Day6 introducing themselves to the social networking platform once, twice, three times until your eyes start to ache. All of a sudden you’re met with a new post that pings up. Your breath catches in your throat as you see Jae standing in his living room, attempting to keep up with Amber Liu’s dance challenge. You can’t help but giggle as he flails to the left, to the right, oversized black hoodie always falling into his face. BM would be proud. Express not impress. You find yourself shocked at the weight that he’s gained. He looks healthy and happy. You remember the conversations in middle school about how much he hated being skinny. The evenings in the weight room in high school. Failed doctors appointments. He looked good before but you see that in recent months his chest has been swelling and not just with pride. His shoulders sit a little bit broader than you ever remember in the past and you’re happy for him. Good for you, Jae. 

You like the tiktok and let it loop a few more times before sighing heavily and opening your messaging app.

Y/N: I got TikTok for you, ya little shit. 

You chuckle but leave the text unsent. You’ll think of something better later. You toss your phone to the side in the face of the mountain of laundry on your bed that needs to be taken care of. As you hang the last of your shirts, your phone pings. You pick it up to a notification from Jae.

Skinny Bone Jones: Language! 

Skinny Bone Jones: Do you think Amber approves? 

You feel a flare of indignation wash through your limbs at the mention. Apparently it had sent. Oh well. As the thrill of a reply ebbs out of you, it is replaced by a rising indignation. How dare you?! Not tell me you’re in town and pretend like you didn’t?! Really?! 

Y/N: I don’t really care what Amber thinks.

Maybe that was a little snippy. You love Amber, truly. But how can he have time for TikTok but not me?

Skinny Bone Jones: Yeah? Do you still care what I think? 

Your heart catches in your throat. So he’s caught on that you’re pissed. 

Skinny Bone Jones: Y/N, can I call you? 

You swipe up to the phone icon and call him on auto pilot. Talk to me, Jae.

“Y/N?” you hear Jae’s voice.

“Jae.” Your voice comes out whispier than you meant it to. You try again.

“Jae! How are you?”

“Oh, y’know, just got off a plane that smelled like bleach and got to my house that isn’t really my house anymore, left my guitar to be sanitized, was “strongly encouraged” to make a TikTok by my company, and then got my head bit off by my best friend. Just quarantine things.” There is a touch of acid in his voice but Jae mostly sounds tired. Your empathy comes surging back and you sigh.

“I’m sorry Jae. I just- I didn’t know you were in town until I listened to your podcast this morning. I was a little hurt that you didn’t call or anything.” 

“Look, kid. I just got home. I’m a diva. You know I require at least an 18 hour period of naps and boba to function properly. I’m a KPop Star now.” You laugh at the callback to your irate spiel a few years ago about how fame had changed him and he was a diva and  just ‘wasn’t the Jae you knew’ anymore. It wasn’t his fault he was allergic to everything and turned down all of your food suggestions.

“Jae, you’ve been a diva since day one.” You quip back, tension resolving as you fall back into a familiar playful banter. 

“And don’t you forget it, Y/N.” There's a slight pause before Jae continues, 

“This diva is really sorry he didn’t call you. It’s just been a lot the last few days. The tour just got cancelled. And our album comes out in a few days. Our team has been going crazy trying to figure out how we’re supposed to publicize in this climate and I just-“ 

“Jae. Chill. When I preordered mine last week, it was the most popular album on the site. It’s gonna sell. Don’t worry too much.” There’s a beat of silence in which you can hear the air whoosh out of Jae’s lungs.

“You-You preordered Demon?” Jae sounds shocked but endeared at your admission and you laugh. 

“Of course? I’m really pumped to hear that sexy, soothing voice of Wonpil’s. Maybe I’ll even get a Dowoon photo card this time! I keep getting Jae ones in my other albums and I give them to my little cousin.” This isn’t entirely true. You have 3 of Young K, 2 of Dowoon, and 1 each of Wonpil and Sungjin. You’ve been waiting for a Jae photocard for ages. You would die before you told him that, though.

“You little shit. If you don’t want to see my face, why are you following Day6 on TikTok?” Jae ribs back.

“Brian. Duh. He’s fine as hell.”

“Yah! Haven’t you found a boring ass Orthopedic surgeon or some shit, yet? Why do you have to terrorize me like this?” 

“Why? Haven’t you found a Twice member that’ll marry you yet, Skinny Bone Jones?”

“I’ll have you know, I gained 10 pounds the past 8 weeks! I’ll be big as BM soon!” You can picture the expression of childlike pride in his face even if you can’t see it. 

“You look really good, Jae. I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.” The sudden sincerity catches the both of you off guard and you clear your throat.

“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.” A comfortable silence is followed by a lengthy conversation recounting the previous weeks, the various states of the other members, your own eviction from college, and the status of the shop. 

“You know, Y/N, if you or your family need anything I’m more than happy to help. I mean I know how hard it can-“ You cut him off before he can go any further.

“We’re okay Jae, honest. I know you’d be good for it but we don’t need anything right now. Business is good at the pho shop and we’re okay.” 

“Okay, okay. Just know I’m here.”

“I mean NOW I do, no thanks to youuu,” you wheedle, whining about his failure to let you know he was in town. 

“Come on, Y/N, I said I was sorry!” He laughs but you can hear the desperation of sincerity in his voice.

“I know, Jae. I’m just kidding. I just really missed you.” 

“I missed you too Y/N.”

You get off the phone upon the realization that you needed to go to the shop and prep for the dinner deliveries. Sometimes you abhorred that you were “essential”. You run downstairs and tell your parents the good news about Jae and inform them you’ll be back soon. 

“I know you’re excited, Y/N, but remember we can’t be going and visiting people like that. Only essential work.” You roll your eyes slightly but assure them that you know. As if you hadn’t been telling them the same thing for weeks. I had to convince you not to go play mahjong in the park, eomma. You might be excited, but you’re not stupid. 

You had just started filling the mandu when you hear the bell over the door chime. Pardon me, are you stupid? We've been closed for weeks, why do you think it would be okay to just walk in? You wipe your hands on your apron and start to walk to the counter.

"Hello? I'm sorry, we're only open for call-in deliveries." You round the corner and lift your head from your hands to see the form of the gangliest, tallest, loveliest man you've ever seen in your life.

"Special delivery." Jae remarks smoothly, arms open wide in invitation and head cocked to the side as if he was bracing himself for the crash landing that was to come.

"Jae!" you yell, and launch yourself from behind the counter and into his arms. His arms fold around you and everything else melts away. Your face burrows against his chest and you inhale. He smells like home and cinnamon. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes with the tide of emotions that wash over you. Jae's hand cups the back of your head into him and he hugs you just as tightly as you hug him. You press yourself into him with everything you have and in the deafening silence and warmth all that you can think is I love you.

"Y/N" He whispers, not loosening his grip on you.

"Mmph." you respond weakly.

"My shirt's wet." You jump back from him a bit and see that he's correct. Your eyes are leaking. All over his white shirt. Oops.

"Oh! I'm-I'm sorry." You laugh a bit and swipe at your eyes before patting at his shirt in futility.

"It's okay, love. Come here." He welcomes you back into his arms and you wrap your arms over his neck this time. 

"I missed you." You whisper, voice cracking a bit. 

"I know you did." You jump back from him. Bitch.

"Hush. I missed you too, you idiot. Why else would I be standing here right now?"

You cast your eyes around in a panic. He's here. He's right here. In the store. Here. He shouldn't be here. He should be in quarantine with his family. You're unessential to him. 

Sensing the realization in your eyes,  he pushes past you, walking to the back and puts on the latex gloves hidden behind the counter. 

"I figured it was about time to get a 'real job' like everyone keeps telling me to." He smiles smugly and picks up the knife to start chopping the bok choy. You stand there in shock for one second, two seconds, three seconds until you realize he’s about to cut his fingers off. 

“Jae! Stop!”

“Look, Y/N, I don’t care what you say, I’m going to do this. I want to help. And I’ll be damned if I’m not allowed to see you in the time I’m finally here-“ 

“No, Jae. Stop. I know I can’t argue with you. I’d be thrilled if you’d work with me. But Brian is gonna kill me if I let you cut your damn hands off.” 

“I… what?” 

“You’re a guitarist Jae. We can’t have you cutting off your pretty little fingers. And if you keep chopping it like that, that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” 

Jae looks down at his hands and stretches his fingers wide as if considering them for the first time. 

“Pretty?” 

You roll your eyes, but unbidden, your eyes are still trained on his hands. They really are pretty. 

“Just. Let me show you.” You show him how to tuck his knuckles up against the blade and chop in smooth rocking motions so as not to take off his fingertips. 

You work in relative silence for the next hour, packaging meals and portioning combos as your mom and dad peek in and out to pick up the orders. You can feel a warmth flowing through you as you take in your surroundings. The loneliness of the past weeks leeches out of you and dissipates into the warm atmosphere, homey smells, and murmur of conversation. It’s almost as if your limbs wake up bit by bit, like a tree waking up after a long frigid winter. You feel yourself stretch and shine and the bubbles of contentment flow through you. By the time the last combo is out the door, you find it really difficult to take the smile of your face. 

Jae seemed to be in the same boat. On more than one occasion you caught him staring at you. Every time you caught him he just shook his head and laughed in that infuriating way of his. But you really couldn’t be irritated at him. It was impossible. He was your happy fairy, even if you wanted to kick him in the shins every two minutes for saying something dumb. Mom and dad said goodnight to Jae in the same way they have been since he was 10. “Tell Mrs.Park I say hello and don’t be a stranger.” Right after they leave and you’re washing the last dish, while Jae sits on the counter telling you about production for Day6’s new album, the phone rings. Before you can tell Jae not to answer it, he’s already taking the man's order. Fine. One more can't hurt. You weren’t anxious to end this day and return to bed alone, so you welcome the post-closing distraction. Cobbling together a plate from the leftovers you were about to bring home, you grab your keys and beckon Jae to follow you. 

“No need to bug mom and dad, we can take this one.” 

As you walk outside toward where your little yellow bug is parked, you feel Jae move behind you. You can feel his body close to yours and you stiffen instinctually. You’re not used to skinship anymore and you can feel the blood in your veins carbonate as Jae’s breath ghosts across the back of your neck. You stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide, flush creeping up your neck as you feel his hands- those damn hands- ghost along the side of your left arm. You squeak when his fingers brush against the back of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Your world spins. Fuck is he holding my hand? Do I want this to happen? He’s so close to me. Can he hear my heartbeat? 

“Jae-“ you begin to say, with absolutely no idea as to where the statement would go after. 

Luckily you don’t have to think of any sort of decisive move because Jae immediately snatches the keys from your now limp left hand with a cackle, running ahead to the car. 

“I’m driving!” You little fucking- oooh! 

You’re thankful for the cool evening breeze and dim street lights or you were sure to get a ribbing for the blazing red cheeks that you were sporting. You climb into the passenger's seat with the food on your lap and do your best to sink into invisibility. It doesn’t work. You’re convinced that he can hear your brain jackhammering away at the night's events. 

Did I want that to happen? Did that happen? He was so close to me. He felt so warm and the way he touched me. Running your hands over your arm, you could feel his touch like it had raced a burning path down your whole left side. Do I… like Jae? 

You glance over at him now and again as he puts the car in drive and begins the route to the destination. Jae, of course, is jabbering away about how everything has changed since he’s been gone and, “Omigod, is that ANOTHER pinkberry?” You find yourself nodding along passively while actively trying to figure out what the hell was going on in your brain. Much like his podcast, his voice became white noise by which you asked yourself questions you weren’t sure you wanted the answers to. Of course I love him. But do I like, like him? Never in your life have you felt more like a horny, confused teenager but as you glance over and watch Jae with one hand on the steering wheel, wind blowing through his hair, you know one thing for sure- Jae isn’t a kid anymore. And he isn’t your brother. 

It isn’t until you pull into a neighborhood about 10 minutes later that you remember that you’re here on a delivery. Yanking yourself from your reverie, but with unease still firmly lodged in your thoughts, you address the task at hand. 

“Jae, where are we?” 

“Uhhhh, 3051 Driver Rd.” 

Driver Road. You know this neighborhood but you can’t quite place where. If your previous safari into your possible romantic interest in Jae wasn’t jarring enough, you feel panic rising through your system like so much bile. Why do I know this neighborhood? Jae, unaware of any turmoil on your part, pulls up to the house in question and when your headlights wash over the yard your heart sinks into your throat. You’re going to be sick. 3051 Driver Rd. This is where Sean lives. 

You had met Sean Avery in your sophomore year of premed and had fallen head over heels in love with him. He was tall, attractive, ambitious, and he wanted you. You were star struck. It wasn’t until a year of ‘dating’ later that you unearthed the whole messy truth of his long string of side pieces and general douchebaggery. If that wasn’t enough, in the past year you heard the report of him almost catching a case with a high school senior in the area. You knew now that he was nothing but a predator and a coward. You had managed to avoid him since your explosive breakup but now it seemed you had very little choice.

“Sean fucking Avery” you seethe in the seat next to Jae. 

“What did he do to you?” Jae asked, taken aback by your sudden vitriol. 

“Shit, that wasn’t in my head was it?” Jae laughs a bit but sobers up quickly at your expression.

“Y/N you look really pale, are you okay? I don’t know your history with this guy but hey, you don’t have to deliver this. I’ll do it. Don’t you worry, love.” Jae places his hand on the top of your head and ruffles your hair a bit in an attempt to be comforting. The attempt helped. Your heart pricks up a bit at Jae’s term of endearment but it feels more deadened than it should. You’re sick of feeling like this. Of letting Sean steal your joy from you. It’s been too long for that shit. Pulling yourself together a bit, you shake yourself out of your head and steel yourself. 

“No, Jae, I’ve got this.” Jae looks at you with slight concern but shrugs nonetheless.

“Alright, well, I’m going with you okay? This dude really must’ve done a number on you if this is your response. And I’d like to see the bastard.” Jae’s eyes glinted with something dangerous that you’ve never seen in him before and it causes the same fire in you to spark. Let’s do this. 

With Jae by your side, you march up to the door with the delivery order and set it on the front steps. The doorbell is deafening in the still night and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You jump as the door swings wide and a pathetic looking man sporting a robe and a beer belly peeks from the inside. All of the breath that had been waiting in your lungs released and you feel your head go a little bit light with the realization that this was the man that you were in love with. 7 years later, gone was the debonair gentleman who could sweep you off your feet. In his stead stood a balding, fat, stiff man in boxers and a moth eaten robe. He grunts in acknowledgment of  the presence of other humans but it’s obvious that the Neanderthal hasn’t recognized you. He retrieves his food and goes fumbling in his robe pocket for his wallet. He fishes out a card and hands it to you. You take it from him and process the payment. 

Declined.

“Sorry, Sean, your card- it declined.” 

He huffs and makes a sound in the back of his throat that you can only describe as gross as you hand it back to him.

“It what!? What do you mean declined?” He stumbles forward a few steps and you automatically flinch backward into Jae. Jae’s hand comes up to your shoulder to ground you, a reminder that he’s still there. Sean’s movement wafts a smell of body odor and brown liquor. He always was a mean drunk. You decide to cut your losses while you can and keep the transaction as minimal as possible. No games.

“Your card, Sean, it declined. Do you have an alternate form of payment?” Sean whips open his wallet and roots around for a minute before retrieving a few crumpled up bills. He extends the cash but before you can swap his card for cash, his arm whips back. Looking at you sideways, suspicion drips from his slurred speech,

“How do you know my name?” 

Shit. Fuck. Dammit. 

You watch helplessly as the cogs turn in his inebriated brain and recognition washes over his face.

“Y/N! It’s you! What do you want from me now, bitch? Trying to take my money now too? Get out of here!” His voice steadily rises in volume and you can feel the walls of your panic closing in on you. Suddenly Jae steps in front of you, arm outstretched to the belligerent man. 

“You’re talking to me now. You’re done with her.” Jae holds himself with a confidence that you had only seen from him onstage. 

“Just pay for the food and we’ll be going.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Sean spits back, as if Jae were something distasteful that he had found on the bottom of his shoe.

“I’m Jae. Y/N’s boyfriend. Now I’d really love to take Y/N home tonight before it gets too much later. So if you can just pay for your meal, we’ll get going.”

Sean crumples up the bills and throws it into Jae’s chest. 

“Good luck with that bitch, kid. You’re gonna need it.” And with that he retreats inside and slams the door shut behind him. 

Jae immediately rushes to your side and wraps you in a big hug. Although similar in mechanics to the hug earlier that day, this one was far different in intent. You could feel it in his soul, that hug was meant to squeeze all of the fragmented pieces of you back together again and hold them until they stuck. You can feel your heartbeat slowing to match his and your breathing slowly regulates. 

Mollie is gonna have a lot of fun with this one.

Jae escorts you back to the car and there’s a thick silence that you can’t quite bring yourself to cut as he puts the car into drive. You know he is forming his own story of what happened between you and Sean in his head and you can’t tell if that’s better or worse than just reliving it and telling him the whole story- cops and testifying and court and all.

Once out of the neighborhood, Jae heaves a sigh and chuckles a bit. 

“Well he seemed lovely.” 

“Uh huh. He’s a real peach.” 

Jae looks over at you with an expression of dual concern and amused what-the-fucker-y. Did that really just happen? 

There is a beat of silence and solid eye contact before you both start cracking up. Unable to restrain yourself any further, you both dissolve into a kind of healing, deep belly laughter that shakes the entire car. Pulling up to your house, Jae throws the car into park and then turns to face you. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything, you know? It’s not my business. You’re my business. But asshats like him aren't. Just that I’m around to keep them away from you.” 

You sigh deeply, still recovering from the laugh attack, before giving him a brief bulleted list of the sheer shenanigans that Sean had pulled on you all those years ago. You watched as Jae’s face contorted over the course of the story, hardening into yet another study in fierceness that you were yet to see from him. 

“I really am okay, though Jae. He had me pretty fucked up for a little bit but honest, I’m okay. I did the therapy, I fought my battles. I just hadn’t done the last closure step of actually looking him in the eye and saying goodbye and good riddance. And I probably never would’ve if it weren’t for tonight.” You reach out and grab his hand instinctively. 

“Thank you, Jae. I really appreciate you doing that with me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“You would’ve gotten your ass handed to you is what you would’ve done.” Jae states, deadpan.

“Jaeee!” You laugh, hitting him on the arm. 

“Oh, so now you can throw a punch? Okaaay, nice.” This little shit. 

Banter aside, Jae takes the key out of the ignition and gathers his things to get out of the car. As he closes the door, you hear him mutter “You need to pick better guys. You’re too great to end up with someone like that.” 

You don’t have any kind of answer to that, but you feel a lightness in your chest as his eyes burn into you. Jae walks you to your front door and all you can hear in your head is an echo of Jae’s declaration of “I’m Jae, Y/N’s boyfriend.” Is that what I want? 

You end up at your front door far too soon and the twinkling of the helicopters in the sky signals to you that it’s more than time for Jae to go home. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought of him leaving and you inwardly groan. 

Jae gives you one last hug goodnight and you know before he even releases you that this isn’t enough. Not even nearly. Your feelings, whatever they may be: love, like, general affection, haven’t been correctly quantified and expressed. This has been the best day you’ve had in months, and he was the deciding factor. You were grateful to have him there on your front door step, in his arms. But maybe, just maybe, if you’re able to express to him exactly how you feel about him in this moment, he’ll be able to help you out and translate exactly what this feeling means for your future together. Without thinking about it too much, you retreat from the hug and angle your face up to his so that your noses are almost touching. You sit like this for just a second. That sickening second that would allow him to retreat and tell you you’re an idiot for even thinking it. But he doesn’t retreat. Instead, your lips are brushing against one another in just the barest of whispers of a kiss. His lips are so soft. It’s over in an instant and as the chilly night air cuts between the two of you, you are all too aware of how disproportionately warm your face and neck have become. You smile up at Jae and he carries a similar, if not slightly more shocked, half smile. 

As if reading one another’s minds, you both understand that it’s wise to let one another think about the night's proceedings before any further rash decisions are made. In an attempt to preserve the spell of the night sky and the kiss and the chirping cicadas, neither of you say another word to one another but instead exchange content smiles that convey more than a goodnight ever could. With a slight bow of his head and a glide of his hand down the length of your arm, Jae walks backwards down your front steps and slips into the night, shaking his head slightly, trying and failing to conceal his smile. You watch him from the porch as he skips up to his house, before slipping into the warmth of your own home.

...

GIVE IT A LIKE IF YA LIKE

FEEDBACK IS MY LOVE LANGUAGE

[zigtheeortega]

day 24: loss | liam x mc (au)

title: disruption

pairing: liam x mc

@choicesfebruarychallenge | @bi-cookie ; @cxld-play

warnings: angst, smut, n*sfw, (18+)

word count: 5,764

song inspiration: if i ever feel better - phoenix

author’s note: first off, i’m not good at naming characters like at all, so elliott is just a placeholder bc i knew mc would look weird. second, i haven’t written an au choices fic yet, so i’m a lil nervous to post this! I’ve also never written liam before, much less smut for him, so i’m also nervous bc of that! this will probably be my only trr fic bc there are sooo many trr fics out there. lmao anyways, hope you enjoy this angsty smutty sad fic !

“We’re almost there, Elliott,” Bastien called to the backseat, startling her out of her sleep.

She rubbed her eyes and stretched, slipping her coat she’d been using as a blanket over her shoulders, zipping it up to her chin.

Lythikos had an intense frigidity to it, one that Elliott couldn’t forget. She only visited monthly for short periods of time, but the stinging sensation of the snow on her bare face never left her memory.

She checked her phone, her heart fluttering at the pseudonym that appeared on her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey. I’m finishing up my last obligation, but I shouldn’t be longer than an hour.” His voice warmed her heart. It was the first time in weeks she’d heard it over the phone, not on television in a rehearsed speech. 

“Okay. I brought some of my work with me if that’s alright with you. I’d love your feedback,” Elliott smiled to herself, treasuring her lover’s genuine interest in her new profession.

“Of course,” she could hear him beam through the phone. “I love you.”

“I love you too. See you soon.”

He hung up, and she sighed. Sneaking around was getting so tiresome, but she’d do anything and everything for Liam.

After Elliott and her friends couldn’t locate Tariq, the wedding went on as scheduled. It took her months of hiding out in Cordonia with her best friends to get herself together. Hana stayed by her side consistently, consoling her until she figured out a game plan.

She thought she’d be able to find a solution and live out her fairytale, but she was too late. She’d never be able to fully have Liam like she wanted, but Madeleine offered her a compromise to keep everyone happy.

She’d brought it up to Elliott before everything went to shit, and Elliott rejected it. She saw being a ‘mistress’ as an insult, because she knew she could find a way out of the mess she was in.

Months later, Madeleine, Liam, and Elliott ran a tight ship with friends to keep the affair under wraps.

Elliott could only meet with Liam once a month, under the guise that he had important monthly meetings to attend at Olivia’s home. They could only meet for a weekend at best, and a few hours at worst.

They rarely contacted each other between their meetings. It was depressing, but necessary to keep them a secret. Liam had a burner phone, and Elliott had to save his number under an undetectable moniker. When they spoke, it was short and sweet, and they couldn’t use each other’s real names.

She flew to Cordonia monthly, usually having to go to great lengths to disguise herself from the paparazzi.

It was emotionally draining and everything leading up to the rendezvous was stressful and tense, but all worth it when she saw Liam’s face light up when he first saw her.

Bastien pulled into the driveway behind the castle, easing up next to a side entrance that Elliott was all too familiar with – she knew Olivia would be waiting behind the large door.

She fixed her wig, pulling her beanie over the top of it, and hid her purple-rimmed eyes behind huge square sunglasses.

“Olivia informed me that you can go to the door. I’ll bring your bags in later. There aren’t any paparazzi in sight, so you’ll be safe,” he smiled at her through the rearview mirror, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Thank you so much, Bastien. I could never repay you for what you’re doing for Liam and I,” she replied gratefully, apology laced through the tone in her voice.

“Anything you need, I’m here. Don’t feel guilty. The only time he’s happy is when he sees you, and I’d never get in the way of that.”

Her heart swelled at the thought. She waved to him, stepping out into the blizzard.

The door cracked open, and Elliott spotted the fiery hair before her expression.

“Come in, come in,” Olivia frowned at her messy disguise. “That wig’s a mess, Elliott. If you’re gonna opt for a cheap, frizzy wig, at least hide a pocket knife in it.”

Elliott shrugged, grinning at Olivia’s annoyance. “Why should I do that when I have my best friend here to protect me?”

Olivia scowled, a hint of a smile on her lips. “You’re lucky I’m your ally.” She turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway, leaving Elliott scurrying to catch up.

Elliott had gotten pretty familiar with the underground tunnels of Lythikos over the past year. Olivia secretly renovated an unused area to make an apartment-like cluster of rooms, so that Elliott could stay safely in the tunnels with everything she needed, and she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.

It was an ingenious idea, and Elliott had no idea how to pay her back for her generosity. Honestly, Olivia probably did it to avoid controversy, like most every noble was doing. Elliott wasn’t sure if Olivia was doing it for the sake of Cordonia’s image or the sake of her friends’ sanity.

Olivia pulled out a skeleton key and unlocked the door, turning on the lights. “I added a more comfortable bed, some more decorations, and got Bastien to fully stock the fridge, so you can cook pretty much anything you want.”

She walked over to the living room area and pointed at the T.V. “I didn’t have to get a 60 inch flatscreen for you, but I know how much you love binging horror movies that I had to help scare you somehow.” She smirked, and pulled out a few drawers from the T.V. stand. “I ordered a hundred or so movies in case you get bored. I have no idea how long you’re gonna be here.”

Elliott shifted her weight, sighing. It was too painful to stay longer than a couple of days. “I was gonna leave on Sunday like I usually do –”

“How asinine. You’re taking a 9 hour flight on a Thursday night to get here by morning, and you take another 9 hour flight back on Sunday morning? You’re wearing yourself thin for no reason, Elliott,” she shook her head at Elliott, confusion lining her expression.

“Liam usually can’t spend more than 2 days at a time with me.”

“You have other friends in Cordonia, you know that right?” She narrowed her eyes at her, crossing her arms.

“After all that happened, I can’t show my face here. My reputation is tarnished, and even being seen here is a scandal waiting to happen. It gets riskier and riskier every time. I can’t risk any of my friend’s well-being for the sake of my secret relationship,” Elliott plopped onto the couch, defeated.

Remorse flashed through Olivia’s eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “None of this is your fault, Elliott. We know the truth.”

Elliott shook her head, a lump forming at the back of her throat. It didn’t matter that Justin and Adelaide were ousted as terrorists, and that Elliott’s friends were able to stop them from assassinating Liam and Madeleine. 

Tariq was never found, and King Constantine was killed before he could clear her name. No one would believe Bastien, and Penelope was too afraid to publicly admit her wrongdoing, so Elliott didn’t have enough evidence to be exonerated.

“Sometimes… I wish everything were different. Maybe if we’d split up and searched on our own… or if I tried a little harder…” She struggled, her throat burning, a sign of tears to come. She didn’t want to talk about this situation any more than she had to, which was every time she visited.

Her new life was pretty much an escape from the events of the past year, but she was forced to face her past trauma head on every time she stepped foot on Cordonian soil.

“Elliott…” Olivia trailed off, and reached towards her, but dropped her hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I guess I’m still seething over the whole ordeal. I’m pretty defensive since I know we’re right but no one else knows that.” She sat down, leaning back onto the couch, crossing her legs. “You shouldn’t feel like you’re risking our social standing or anything. All of us know exactly what we’re risking to help you and Liam, and we’re okay with it. You’re our…” She whispered the last word and Elliott couldn’t quite hear her.

“I’m your what?”

“...friend.” 

Elliott threw her arms around Olivia, relishing in the rare vulnerable moment. Olivia seldom showed her true feelings, but when she did, it was like watching a shooting star. It was beautiful, fleeting – a great memory nonetheless.

“Get off of me, you sap,” Olivia patted Elliott’s back with the tip of her fingers.

“Thank you for everything you’re doing. I seriously can’t thank you enough. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you all, please tell me. I owe you a lifetime of favors.”

“Well, first, you can actually spend time with Hana, Drake, and Maxwell. They won’t shut up about you.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Deal. I never got to see Cordonia on my own time, so maybe you could give me a proper tour of Lythikos next time I’m here. You know, when I’m not banished to the cellar.” Elliott grinned.

Olivia laughed once, a delightful noise. “Sure, but you’ll need better snow gear. And take a self-defense class or two before you do so.”

Elliott quirked a brow at her friend, then shook her head. “I won’t even pretend to know what you have planned for me.”

Olivia stood up, and headed for the door. “You have no idea.” She opened it, and before leaving, she said, “Liam should be here soon. Let me know when he’s in the room so Bastien and I can keep watch.”

“Be careful, Liv.”

“Don’t call me that,” Olivia smirked, and closed the door.

----

Elliott spent the next hour working in her notebook, editing and rewriting paragraph after paragraph. An animated movie she’d seen a million times played in the background, prompting Elliott to hum along to her favorite song.

After another hour, she started to worry. She aimlessly flipped through the collection of DVD’s, not really paying attention to the titles.

Where’s Liam? She thought, an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

After hour three, she read a little from a book she’d brought until her eyes started getting heavy.

She awoke to a sequence of 5 sharp raps on the door, followed by a pause, then 3 more.

Our secret knock, She thought. She shot up from the couch and ran to the door, happy tears already welling up on her bottom lids.

She fumbled with the lock, anticipation causing her to shakily rip open the door.

And there Liam stood, holding a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a neatly wrapped present. His perfectly tailored suit laid perfectly on his arms and torso, his muscles just barely concealed. He beamed, his eyes glistening as his eyes grazed over her face.

She grabbed him by the lapels, pulling him inside hastily. “Whoa,” he said, nearly losing balance.

Elliott blushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his face close to hers. She pressed her lips softly on his, a picture perfect moment she snapshotted and tucked away in her favorite memories.

All of the anxiety she felt traveling in disguise melted away the moment she touched Liam.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her lips.

“I missed you more,” she breathed, snuggling into his neck.

After a sweet moment, she pulled back, and snatched the champagne from his hands. “What’re we celebrating, love?”

He grinned, and locked the door behind him. “It’s a momentous day, Elliott. It’s been a year to the day since we first met.”

Elliott looked at him lovingly, hugging the bottle to her chest. “A whole year?”

He nodded, setting the flowers and present on the table, and gathered Elliott in his arms, hugging her to his chest tightly. “A whole year. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Elliott.”

He used a finger to tilt her chin to him, and he pressed a soft kiss on her bottom lip. “You’re everything to me.”

“I love you so much, Liam.” She giggled, shaking her head. “From waitress to mistress. Same suffix, different job title.”

His smile wavered, and he exhaled a long breath, obviously uncomfortable with the joke she’d told. “I wish you’d stop putting yourself down like that. Marriage is just a title. Madeleine and I are just business partners. You’re my soulmate, Elliott.”

She pulled back, fiddling with the top of the champagne. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to be so secretive.”

He gently took the bottle from my hands and popped it open. “I’ve still got local historians and lawyers on my payroll, and they’ve been extensively researching Cordonian laws. I don’t know if they’ll find anything, but I’m determined to keep looking. I don’t want to lose hope.”

Elliott pressed her mouth into a line, then quirked it to the side, processing everything he’d said. “I want to be hopeful that we’ll get out of this eventually, but I’d rather just enjoy the time I have with you, baby. Stress free.”

He poured them two glasses of champagne, and handed one to her. “Of course. My apologies.”

They sat at the kitchen table, and Elliott picked up the flowers, taking a deep whiff of the bouquet. “You really outdid yourself this time, Liam.” 

The cluster of sunflowers, lavender, and white roses contrasted beautifully, and smelled even better. “They reminded me of you, so I had to pick them up.”

“Along with a gift?” She lifted a brow, challenging him.

He sipped his champagne, trying to hide a smile. “I think you’ll like it. Open it.”

She ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a plain white box. She lifted the top off, revealing an assortment of toys on top of a lacy lingerie piece. Her cheeks heated, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I love it,” Elliott said, nibbling at the skin on her lip.

Liam eyed her lips, a playful look in his eye. “I thought we could try something new this weekend.”

The blush on her cheeks stayed, despite her eagerness to get in bed. “I like the sound of that.”

She gulped down the rest of her champagne and snatched the lacy piece, running to the bedroom.

“Hey!” Liam called, about to stand from the table.

“I’m trying on the lingerie! Stay where you are! It’s a surprise!” She yelled through the closed door.

Elliott emerged after a few minutes, peeking her head out of the door. “You ready?”

“Beyond ready, my love.”

She stepped out, and Liam’s breath hitched in his throat. She could plainly see him shift his legs, desperately trying to conceal his bulge.

“You look… stunning. Absolutely gorgeous, Elliott,” he said, his mouth agape, eyes hungrily roaming across her body.

The strappy lace piece fit like a bikini. The bottom was closer to a g-string than a thong, and the crotch was cut out, making it for easier access. The lace was sheer, barely covering her nipples and folds. She should’ve felt sexy, but was more out of place than anything.

“This is so corny, Liam. You bought me something that you’re just going to strip off of me, and I look absolutely ridiculous in it,” She said, crossing her legs to cover the lack of cloth around her opening.

He stood from his chair and crossed the room to touch her. He laced his fingers through her hair and draped his other hand across the small of her back. He tilted her head back, kissing her neck and nipping gently at her exposed skin.

“You’re right. I want to rip this off of you, but I can’t even begin to describe to you how arousing this outfit is. You never have to wear something that you’re not comfortable in, but I assure you it’s a pleasurable experience on my end,” he breathed into her ear, tightening his grip around her waist.

“Oh fuck,” She whispered, his bulge rubbing against her, causing her to gasp in repsonse. “Please, let’s talk later, and fuck now. I need you now, Liam.”

“Say no more, beautiful.” He swept her up and brought her to the bedroom, slamming the door behind them with his foot.

He dropped her onto the bed, and shimmied off his coat jacket, hanging it on the back of the wall.

“You’re so adorable, Liam. In the midst of a heated moment, you still have the mind to hang your coat up carefully so that it doesn’t crease before fucking my brains out,” she giggled.

Liam scrunched his nose up in confusion. “I can be reckless.” He threw his coat on the ground, but after a few seconds of eye contact with Elliott, where she could tell how absolutely tormented he was, he snatched it by the lapels.

Elliott howled with laughter as Liam hung it up carefully, brushing off the dirt.

“You always manage to be right, Elliott,” he softly smiled, unbuttoning his top buttons slowly. “But I don’t mind.” His arms flexed as he rolled his sleeves up. “As long as you don’t mind that I’m a little reckless in private, that’s all that matters.”

Her heart raced as he left the room and returned with the box of toys. Although she’d committed Liam’s body and their sexual encounters to memory, she still found herself enthralled with him like it was the first time they met.

He sat on the bed next to Elliott’s lace-clad body, and tucked a hair behind her ear. “Are you okay with me trying some of the toys out on you? I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable with it before trying anything.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yes.”

He pulled a small handheld vibrator out of the box, just small enough to fit on a finger. “First things first, I want to taste you.”

Her lower stomach clenched and ached as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, parting her legs. Before she could throw out a sexy quip, he had taken advantage of the crotchless design by plunging his tongue into her folds, stroking relentlessly.

She moaned and dug her hands into his hair, tugging at his dark strands. He in turn rumbled against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

“Liam, please,” she breathed, feeling his hand on her stomach, holding her bucking hips in place.

He knew exactly what she wanted; he always read her cues perfectly. He slid a finger into her, curling it the way Elliott loved. He moved his hand and tongue in unison, the similar paces bringing her close to the edge.

Just as she was about to release, he pulled away, slipping the vibrator on his fingers. “Is it alright if I try this out on you now?”

She nodded, her body eager for his touch. He massaged her clit slowly with his fingers, keeping in time with the laggard pace of his other fingers pumping in and out of her.

The strong vibration mixed with the pressure of his fingers sent Elliot into another world. Her eyes rolled back, and she focused on the image of Liam’s naked physique, his head between her legs… 

Before she knew it, her legs were shaking. Liam kissed her softly, and reached into the box again, but she placed a hand on his wrist lightly. “We have all weekend to play with them. I need you in me now.”

His pupils dilated even further, and he nodded, standing up to slip off his clothes. Although she’d seen him bare numerous times, it never failed to amaze her that the man whose heart belonged to her was so breathtaking. His body looked as it was crafted by the gods themselves, chiseled to perfection, undoubtedly due to his strict fitness and diet regimen.

He grabbed a condom from the box of toys, but before he could tear it open, she stopped him. “Could we… go without one this time? I’m on birth control.”

She wanted so desperately to tell him the whole truth, but she decided she’d wait until the time was right. It would sound like an irrational decision to him, but she had thought it out nearly every day since she left Cordonia for the first time.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but… I’ll pull out. Just in case.” He looked unsure, but lowered himself onto the bed next to her anyways.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just thought,” she shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“No, please continue. Don’t ever feel like you can’t be honest with me, Elliott.” He touched her cheek softly.

“The only time we had sex without protection was our first time in the garden, remember?” She smiled softly, reminiscing.

“Of course I remember, my love. It’s one of my favorite times that we’ve been together.”

“Oh, so you’re ranking them now?” She smirked.

“Definitely not. Every time is special, but that one was even more special to me.”

“I was thinking we could kind of recreate the night.”

His eyes twinkled, full of love for the woman he could never fully give himself to. It was depressing, but Elliott pushed those thoughts behind her horniness and flipped on top of him.

“I love when you take charge, El,” he said, his voice verging on a growl.

“You’ve never used that nickname. What gives?” She tried joking, but his bare shaft pressed between her legs was distracting to say the least.

“I don’t know, I thought it was cute,” he shrugged. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No, I love it,” she breathed, and began grinding her hips against his. His grip on her hips tightened, and she leaned forward, kissing him deeply.

He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip against her opening, teasing her. “You’re a tease.”

He pressed his hips upwards, entering her. Her body shuddered with pleasure as her walls adjusted to his size.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, as her hips moved lazily against his.

“It’s so weird hearing you curse, King Liam,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. “I’ve never been aroused by a title before, but I have to say that ‘King Liam’ sounds delectable coming from your lips.”

He moved his hands to grip underneath her ass, lifting and lowering her the length of his shaft. She mewled in response, her legs tightening their grip around his middle. “I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you speed it up,” she purred.

He picked up the pace, deepening his thrusts. All of her worries of the future were a fading blip, her sole focus on pleasuring and being pleasured by Liam.

Before she knew it, he’d flipped her, raised her hips, and pounded into her from behind. “Oh,” she cried, her guttural moan muffled by the thick down pillow.

He sped up, his skin smacking against hers relentlessly, the sounds of ecstasy filling the room. She turned back to gaze at him through half lidded eyes, and was met with Liam’s sultry concentrating face. She’d seen it many times before, when discussing security issues with Bastien, but never in this context. 

She felt herself getting wetter and wetter at the sight of him getting off inside of her. She was the one pleasuring him behind the scenes. She was the one exploring parts of him the public would never see, much less Madeleine. She got to see a side of Liam that not a single soul would ever experience. It gave Elliott a new sense of security, despite the harrowing situation they were in.

He reached into the box again and grabbed a handheld vibrator she hadn’t seen before. “I’m close, my love, and I want to make sure you’re there with me,” he panted, before switching it on.

He tried handing it to her, but instead, she guided his hand between her legs. “Oh fuck, El,” he cursed, sweat trickling down his clean shaven chest.

He leaned over her, keeping his fast pace, and placed the quivering toy between her folds. She arched her back in response, pushing herself further into the pillow.

The sensation of the vibrator mixed with getting fucked brought her to the edge quickly, and she released, her body convulsing beneath Liam’s. She shrieked his name, clutching the sheets. “Oh, Liam, fuck.”

He quickly followed her, his pace becoming more jerky as he came with her. “Fuck, I love you, Elliott,” he shouted. The deep commanding bass of his voice reverberated off the stone walls.

When they could finally move, Liam plopped next to her, spooning her while peppering soft kisses across her neck and shoulders.

She couldn’t have imagined herself anywhere else in that moment but Liam’s arms.

----

After they cleaned up, Elliott threw on a robe and flopped onto the couch, turning on the TV to browse through channels.

He sat next to her shortly after, clad with sweats and a plain t-shirt. “This might be a terrible time, but we need to discuss something rather difficult.”

“That phrasing definitely scares me, but go ahead,” she joked, turning the TV off.

“We’re being pressured to pursue producing an heir,” Liam shook his head, pain and regret dripping off of his every syllable.

“Wh… What?” She forced out. Her knees wobbled, the air knocked out of her lungs. She knew it was coming, but not this soon after the wedding.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hands balled into fists at his side.

“Why? You just got married! I thought we’d have a couple years at least!” she said, her voice hiking up an octave.

“With Constantine passing away and the terrorist attacks, there’s still some uneasiness within the people and nobles. They’re not sure that we’re still stable as a country. It’s more for the benefit of our image than anything. Trust me, I’ve held off as long as I could.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Are you going to have to fuck her?” Elliott’s voice quivered, her breath unsteady. She didn’t know if she was ready for the answer.

His eyes widened. “No, Elliott, I would never. We don’t have feelings for each other like that. The public doesn’t need to know that we’re not having intercourse.”

Elliott’s chest loosened a bit, but she was still cautious as she waited for him to continue. “We’re either opting for adoption, or artificial insemination. There’s not a fertility issue with either of us, but we’re both not capable of sex with each other. It just can’t happen.” He held her gaze, pleading with her to understand.

“I–I can’t continue this if you’re going to have a child with her, Liam. I’d be a homewrecker. I can’t let you be that kind of dad to your kid,” Elliott shook her head, tears freely falling.

His jaw dropped, and he staggered back. “Elliott, my love, I–”

“I know you love me, and I know that I love you. I know that life is going to be so fucking hard without each other, but I can’t do this to your future kid,” she sobbed, sinking into the couch. “You and Madeleine may have consented to our relationship, but your child didn’t sign up for this. Imagine if they found out about us? He’d think so little of you. I can’t have that.”

Her shoulders shook, her breath heaving in and out of her lungs shakily. She was experiencing a loss like she’d never felt before. She could stay with the love of her life in order to satiate her desire to be with him, but at the expense of horrendous guilt, knowing she could possibly break a family up and warp Liam’s future child’s perception of him.

If they stayed together, and the public found out about them, he’d be painted as the bad guy, even though Madeleine encouraged the affair. She’d throw him to the wolves, and he’d be absolutely obliterated by the press.

There wasn’t a winning solution to this problem. They were going to have to do what was best for everyone else, instead of what they truly wanted.

“I’m so sorry, Liam, but I can’t do this. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore,” she repeated and the excruciating pain in her chest continued.

“Elliott, we can figure it out, I know we can–”

“We can’t, Liam! This is it! This is the last time you’re going to see me!” She shouted, her voice trembling and unstable.

“We can still be friends,” he said softly, kneeling next to her trembling form on the couch. “I still want you in my life no matter what, Elliott.”

Anger flashed through her disjointed train of thought. Before she could gather them together, she unleashed her momentary rage on him.

“You’re really that selfish, Liam? You’re that fucking selfish that you could want to maintain the picture perfect life and get everything you could ever want, while keeping me on a short leash? To be there for you emotionally, physically, sexually, but I get nothing in return?” She stood up, pushing an accusatory finger into his exposed chest.

“I have to work under a pen name because of everything that happened. You can’t even Google my government name without reading about how much of a whore I am. I risked my whole life and career to be with you, and you didn’t have the decency to publicly defend me. You just sided with everyone else except for the woman you supposedly ‘love’,” Elliott continued, pushing a tormented Liam closer and closer to the door.

“I have to fly back home when you’re done with me and leave all of my closest friends. This is my real home. I have people who love me and care for me here. I fell in love with Cordonia, its people, and you. But I’m pretty much a prisoner in a dungeon every time I come over,” she rolled her eyes, refusing to shut her mouth and let Liam speak. “All for sex. All for a quick fuck and less than 48 hours of your time before I’m shuttled off back to the cold, heartless city of New York.”

Liam opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Elliott suddenly cackled, cutting off any attempt of him speaking.

“I forgot to tell you that I landed a book deal with a huge publishing company in the city. They want a few novels out of me. They loved my first rough draft of my book so much that they offered me a multi-book deal,” she smiled, shaking her head.

“That’s incredible, baby–”

“I was excited to tell you and instead all I can think about is how by the time I get my first book printed and released, you’ll have a kid. A family,” Elliott walked away from Liam, and sat at the kitchen table, taking a long swig from the champagne bottle.

After a long moment of silence between them, Liam finally spoke. “I know it seems like the universe is fighting us tooth and nail. I know that this situation is the worst we could be in. But Elliott,” he sat down across from her and lifted her chin up with his finger, “You’re the only woman I’ll ever love, and I won’t give up on this unless you tell me to leave you alone.”

“You know I don’t want to tell you to leave me alone. That’s the last fucking thing I want to do, but that’s how it has to be. You’re being selfish right now, Liam. You’re allowed to be selfish sometimes. This whole situation was selfish, but I guess it was okay since Madeleine okay-ed it,” she took another deep drink from the bottle. “But your child is completely innocent. They don’t deserve to be caught up in your selfish decisions.”

He flinched, and his form deflated. “I think… you might be right, El.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glistening. “I guess it was absurd to think this affair would last forever.”

She smiled sadly. “It was fun while it lasted.”

“I’ll always love you, El. I’ve always been truthful about that. You’re the only woman I’ll ever love.”

She leaned forward to cup his face in her palm. “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Liam.” She took another gulp of the alcohol. “I guess now that you’re confessing, I’ll have to confess, too.”

His brows furrowed as he waited for her to continue.

“I have an appointment with my OBGYN next week. I’ve always wanted one, but I’ve been seriously contemplating a hysterectomy for months now. Since you married Madeleine, really.”

“What? Why?” His eyes widened in surprise.

“I can’t see myself with children, but I can with you. You’re the only man I could ever picture having children with,” her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not a punishment to myself. I just know in my heart I’ll never want children again.”

His eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill. “I’m so sorry, Elliott.”

Her chin wobbled as the truth of the situation finally set in. She was no longer his, and he was no longer hers. The crown disrupted the fate of the lovers, and there was no amendment.

----

[nobody-nobody-nobody]

Boy On Fire

This scene takes place during Chapter 24 of Mockingjay, after Katniss, Gale, Cressida, Pollux, and Peeta leave Tigris’ shop and make their way to Snow’s mansion.

Part 1 | Part 2 

                                                             ***

Everything around me is on fire. Prim. Katniss. And me. I am burning. I try desperately to put myself out, rolling frantically in the snow as I feel the flames lick at my face. The scarf. I rip it off and stomp it on the ground. Assess the damage to my body. A fireball caught the side of my uniform and singed the better part of it off. Underneath, the skin is hot and blistering red. My forehead aches where the flames leapt a little higher. I’m hurt but still able to walk. I search hopelessly for Katniss in the crowd of people trying desperately to put out the flames that consume them. The wails and smell of burning flesh pervade through the air. I take a step towards the barricade and realize it’s useless to go looking for survivors. The fire blazes on fiercely.  

 I can’t see Katniss, and it doesn’t matter anyway. I feel myself sinking into unconsciousness. I sink to my knees and let exhaustion overcome me. In the end, I couldn’t protect Katniss or her sister. What a lousy excuse for a partner.

                                                          *** 

When I come to, the first thing I’m aware of is someone sitting at my side. There’s only one person left on Earth who would come to my sickbed.

 “Katniss!”

 I sit up with a start and freeze when my eyes land on him. I guess there’s two people left in the world.

 “Haymitch?”

 “Hey kid,” he says. I take in the sight of him. He looks awful. Smells worse. Whatever attempt at sobriety he managed during his stay at District 13 has long since been abandoned. I can’t say I blame him.

 “Katniss?” I ask. My voice comes out in a croak. I try to cough to clear my throat and end up coughing for several minutes. “Easy there,” Haymitch says, gently pushing me back down onto the bed. “You inhaled a good bit of smoke when you were passed out in the circle. Doctors say you’ll be fine but you have to take it easy for a while. Give your lungs time to heal.”

 “Haymitch where’s Katniss?” He drops his eyes and my heart immediately sinks. I bury my face in my hands. For some reason I don’t want him to see the emotions playing out on my face. It’s confusing enough for me, trying to sort out how much of this is out of guilt for failing to keep the promise we made to each other, how much is the love for her that I wrote off but somehow still finds its way to the surface. 

 “She’s alive, Peeta. But barely. She was too close when it happened, and there was no one there to put her out. They’re doing all sorts of treatments for the burns but…she hasn’t spoken in weeks. We’re not sure what’s left of her sanity. If there’s anything left.” He takes a swig from the bottle of wine at his side and lets it hang there. Weeks? How long have I been out? 

We sit in silence for a while until finally I manage, “Gale?”

“He’s alive. Took a bad beating to the head but he’ll be ok. Surprised you asked.”

“He’s half her family now. I need to know she won’t be alone.”

 He doesn’t respond. I’m glad. I’d rather his silence than him try to say something stupid like, There’s still us! Or There’s still you. Or Don’t do anything you’ll regret.

 Finally, he breaks the silence. “Coin needs us for a meeting in a few hours. I guess now that you’re awake you can make it. I’ll tell someone to come get you when it’s time.” Then he gets up and leaves.

 I sit up again and this time there’s no urge to cough. There’s a simple outfit folded up on the bedside table, shoes beside my bed. I get up and get dressed then realize I have nothing to do but wait to be collected.

 Exactly three hours later, I hear footsteps nearing my room. I stand up and ready myself to greet a stranger when I realize I know the person who’s come to collect me.

 “Johanna,” I whisper.

 “Hey partner. Almost feels like old times doesn’t it? Except this time, we’re on the other side of the cell. Ready to kill this bastard?”

 For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel myself grin.

 “I’ve never been more ready.”

                                                               ***

The meeting seems to be composed of the remaining victors. It’s painful enough to be in a room with them. The last time we were all together, we were gunning for each other’s lives.  So I thought.

 Katniss sits across from me and I feel a stab of pain in my chest. Yes, the flames got her bad, but it’s the careful way she holds herself, and the dead look in her eyes that hurts the most. I try to catch her eye but find myself unable to hold her gaze. What has become of us, star-crossed lovers from District 12? Just another pair of broken children unable to protect each other from evils of the capitol.

 Then Coin comes in and she’s laying out her plan for a final Hunger Games. It’s all I can do keep from shouting as I try to convince Haymitch of its futility, its cruelty. But he’s not even listening. He’s watching her. Like he always has.

 “I vote yes...for Prim.”

“I’m with the Mockingjay.”

 And then we’re swept out of the room as people swarm around Katniss, readying her for the execution. 

Outside, Johanna and the rest of us victors are herded towards a special section near the spot where Katniss takes her place. She takes the single arrow out and strings the bow in one fluid motion, aiming straight for Snow’s heart. She pulls the arrow back and… hesitates.

 “What is she doing?” Johanna hisses.

 I turn to Haymitch and find him looking at her intently, with the same look in his eye he had in the meeting.

 “No,” I whisper.

 She raises her bow higher and lets the arrow fly. Straight into Coin’s heart.

Coin’s body plummets to the ground. There’s no need to check for a heartbeat. Already soldiers are swarming towards Katniss, who is tossing her bow to the side, turning her head to her shoulder. Aiming for the nightlock.

 Suddenly, I hear her voice in my voice in my head as my hands clench and spasm beside me.

 Stay with me.

 I break out into a run. After all these months of confusion and terror, of not being sure of what I felt for the girl with the grey eyes and voice that made the birds stop to listen, I am sure of at least one thing. She asked me to stay with her. And I promised I would.  

 I clamp my hand over her sleeve just as she bites down hard enough to cause the blood to run immediately. She looks at me with wild eyes and snarls,

 “Let me go!”

 The soldiers are almost on her. There’s no telling what awaits her after this grave act of treason, what this new administration is capable of. But I am selfish enough to not care what happens. I need her to live.

 “I can’t.”

 Then the soldiers come and take her away.

[315-no-stage]

[20190827] TFG 「My dear Summer」Release Event Photo Session fan report

(Yeah, I know it’s been over two weeks since the event. LOL I’m not much of a timely blogger but if you want the blow-by-blow as it happens, my Twitter is the best bet. I tend to word vomit especially when I’m going through an anxiety episode... as you would see later on. I’m mostly doing this for memory keeping, for myself lmao. And for information too, if you’re interested, especially if you’re a fan living outside of Japan. Please keep in mind that my listening skills are stronger than my speaking skills. However, when put on the spot, under pressure, that goes all away ahaha. I can’t read Japanese apart from name kanji.)

I guess I should begin when I first heard about this event. It was around May 2019 when the TFG twitter announced that they are holding a two-shot cheki chance event to celebrate the release of their first single My dear Summer. At that time, I simply wanted to get my hands on the CD lol. We had dreams of going to Anisamano plans of going to Japan any time soon (since I only just came back from my Tokyo no Jin trip earlier that month). 

I had my brother help me out with buying the CDs (Google Translate can only do so much) when he actually encouraged me to try for the cheki. He said it’s a lottery system, as usual, and it won’t hurt to try since I’m buying stuff anyway. So I did. I bought both the First Press Limited Edition sets A and B using my boy Haruto Sakuraba’s link and didn’t really think much of it. They said they were going to announce winners on July 24. The event was the following month, August 27.

The ball started rolling after that. July was the 2.5D Actor Appreciation Month. #25DAAM on twitter.I featured Haruto and Mayu Yoshioka on mine. Then we somehow secured tickets to Anisama 2019. A small part of me was hoping... what if I hit for that cheki chance with Haruto. Anisama was happening the weekend of the cheki event after all. My brother was willing to either go to Japan early or stay late. Our schedule all depended on the cheki event results.

The day before results were to be released, I was a mess. It’s been a long time since I got a panic episode but something was in the water that day. Add to that, the results. The time difference threw me off and I was obsessively checking my email. My brother told me to give it a full 24 hours to account for the time difference. So what did I do? I distracted myself with Kenji Arita lmao. My brother and I had been fairly lucky with chuusen whether it be for tickets or fan events. The last time I attempted a lottery was for the Nelke Planning panel with Shiratorizawa at JF19. I didn’t hit for that because they only recognized actual JP addresses and my proxy wasn’t allowed. (But it was all good because the standby crowd got so large they allowed us to watch behind the ticket winners anyway haha.) I was praying that that won’t be the case here too.

When I woke up the next morning for work, I checked my email... and it was there.  I had my brother actually open the email and translate for me. We were looking for a "できません" but instead, it was a long email full of instructions and congratulations. I actually got picked! I read and re-read the email many times just to convince myself that I actually won. The email said that exact time and place of the event was to be announced only to winners in a separate email nearer the date. Cool cool. I felt so special LMAO.

I actually got the specifics about a week after the first email. The directions were weirdly specific... and helpful for someone like me who doesn’t know what to do with North-South-East-West directions; I work better with “Turn right when you see a Mini Stop across the street from a pachinko parlor” types AHAHAHA. Time frame was 5pm to 8-ish, then they specified that Haruto would have less than an hour to get through all the chekis with fans. They also said something about which forms of identification were required, which gifts/letters are accepted, even how the poses were chosen. 

But even with all that... I had no idea what to do. I tried lowkey Googling and stalking butai/idol social media for fan reports and... I couldn’t find anything that answers my questions (and quelled my anxiety over the matter haha). So I hope if you find yourself in the same situation later, AND IF YOU’RE AN OVERSEAS FAN, I hope this long ass post is going to be helpful to you. I’ve been to one other cheki event - with Hiroki Ino in Cosplay Mania 2018 in Manila - but that’s more straightforward than this one. 

(My slogan should be “Will travel for cheki” ahahaha.)

Now that you’ve read through all that, let’s fast forward to August 27. After a hearty lunch at DiveryCity Tokyo, I made my way to the venue using the EXACT directions they provided in the email. I got there at exactly 5PM. I get by okay by myself in Tokyo but my brother usually acts as translator for me, like a crutch. But like on my May trip, I was by my lonesome on this adventure. 

I see a couple of girls in skirts (I was in a skirt too and it was a good call because it was pretty much dress code lol) waiting by the lobby. The sign said B2F so I go down and see more dressed up girls, some even in a yukata. They started lining up so I do the same. I was trying to make myself look small because I was playing everything by ear. They started calling out everyone who hit for Kento so the line thinned a little bit. I got to the registration desk and the staffer who looked so much like Maki Kawase took my paper confirmation and ID. After looking through her sheet, Nobu’s, she politely corrected me that “Sakuraba-san isn’t until...” she said a time but in my flustered and frankly, embarrassed state, it took me a while to figure it out. She even referred to another staffer behind her for the correct time. I apologized and made my way out but then she pointed to a nearby bench, gesturing for me to stay there instead of going back up.

That was when I started panic tweeting HAHAHAHA. If you don’t want to read further, then please just click on this Twitter Thread instead. Thanks! But if you want Stephen King-level of detail, keep reading. XD

Watching those little kids do scales and random dances calmed me down. Miss Staff-san (let’s just call her that) kept tabs on me, glancing at me from time to time and whenever we’d meet eyes, she’d smile. That kept me grounded. Also, talking to my mutuals who were humoring me was a huge help. I managed to laugh and distract myself. When I started seeing a new batch of girls lining up with Haruto pin badges and an excess of purple on their person, I followed. When Miss Staff-san saw me up next, she gave me a huge smile and a thumbs up. I went up to register and.. my name was easiest to find since it was the only one in the Roman alphabet. I was number 50 in a list that I think went up to 75. 

We were herded into an honest to goodness dance practice studio. You know, with all the mirrors and low ceilings. Picture samples of the poses were on the wall, as done by Reo and Haruto. Pose A was your generic “double peace” sign. Pose B was doing an “Asian squat” and the photo was taken from above. Pose C would have you back-to-back with the member. Then there’s the special pose. Haruto teased that he was inspired by Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. Hello, Pose C. Haruto Sakuraba is 6′2″ and I am a hobbit. Nope. Plus I’m very basic when it comes to poses. Ask Ino hahaha.

As the room filled, it drove home that I was the only foreigner there. Normally, it wouldn’t have mattered to me but at that moment, I was under a lot of pressure, my earlier faux pas still had me embarrassed, plus my severe lack of Japanese speaking skill was getting to me. I know, it’s all in my head; obviously I overcame it but if you have anxiety, you know how stressful that can be. I tried keeping myself small, trying to blend in. All the while, I kept seeing Miss Staff-san in my periphery and that calmed me down somewhat.

Then they lined us up according to the number on the ticket. I know what 50 is in Japanese so I just kept my ears open for that. I dropped off my fan letters before I could forget (Nobu got one too, handwritten in English but with a typed up translation sheet) then we were led to another, larger dance studio area. At the opposite end of the room were room dividers. They had My dear Summer on loop but I was so in my head that I didn’t even suffer from earworm. I just kept updating Twitter. More for personal sanity than anything ahahhaa.

Haruto took his time with fans. I noticed Reo’s line went by much faster. By the time he was almost done (his started a bit later than ours), I think Haruto’s only on his 20th fan. I calmed down enough to get my bearings back and I was glad to know that I wasn’t the only one losing her mind. The other girls were talking amongst themselves about the back-to-back pose and what they want to say to him. He seemed so friendly, if the laughter and chatting we were hearing from behind the dividers were any indication, and all of us wanted to make a good impression. Giiirl, I wasn’t even sure if the boy spoke a lick of English! XD

Then. It was my turn.

The staffer asked me which pose I want to do and being the boring person that I am, I chose A pose. Another staffer took my purse but all I saw was Haruto up close in his TFG get up.

Haruto: ありがとうございます Me: OMG Hi! 海外 fan  です!  *Haruto’s eyebrows disappear into his fringe. Staff takes pic* Haruto: Ah double peace. Er so... Me: I'm from California. Los Angeles. Haruto: Ah, California. So you don't speak Japanese? Me: A little bit. Your English is good.  Haruto: Aaah, not so much. I try. So when did you get to Japan? Me: Sunday? I'm here for Anisama and to see you! Haruto: Ah thank you so much. Staff: Next! ありがとうございました  *Haruto hands me the cheki. we bow at each other* Haruto: ありがとうございました. Bye-bye! Me: ありがとうございました.

I mean, the whole thing couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds but it felt so much longer. His final  ありがとうございました has a bit of emphasis as if trying to teach me. Oh you! I knew at least that much. 

Then was I was leaving the booth, I heard the staffers go, "Whoa... I didn't know you can do that!" And he was all "Ay-yah... hehe." GUYS. GUYSSSS!!!! I couldn’t stop smiling... from the moment I just had to the moment he just had to... ALL OF IT! And as I left the venue, Miss Staff-san was right there waiting for me at the door. When she was my delicately holding the cheki in my hand, she patted me on the shoulder and said  “ よくやった!” I never thanked anyone that profusely in my life. (Honestly, her kindness made me tear up.)

I have no flippin’ idea how I kept it together in there. It was a total Yuri On Ice moment where Yuuri just let everything go at that moment and let it all out on the ice when it mattered. I said pretty much everything I wanted to say which wasn’t much. All I wanted to do is to let him know that he has overseas fans. And to test how good his English skills are. 

And let me tell you, it was more than okay. There was absolutely no hesitation in his words. He kept eye contact and oh lawd, his SMILE up close? I don’t know how I’m still here telling you all this. Now every time I hear his voice, I hear it in English ahahaha. (I know he spoke Chinese at a radio show but I wasn’t able to catch that and they haven’t put up the archive at all. Pfft.)

What made me so happy was he ended up impressing not only me but the staff too!!! He even took control of the conversation. The staffers were like "What's going on?" smiling at him as we talked. I'm sofkng proud.

(I should mention that this is technically my 8th time seeing Haruto in person. I saw Tokyo no Jin seven times in May. I figured that would help me a bit with the stress but nope. Although, I cannot wait for everyone to see the TnJ BD and experience his take on Bokuto. You’ll understand this admiration all the more lmao.)

So there it is. If you’re still with me, thank you. I hope I didn’t come across as annoying. I was - am - just so excited that I was able to do this and I wanted to share my experience. Haruto is such a precious sweetheart. I wish him the best of everything.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Silent Song, Chapter 24

Hi. Grab some tissues, hop in the blanket fort because this one is going to hurt. The therapist (imaginary) should be here within the next few hours. We’ve got cocoa and vodka. Sooth your soul however you need to. I promise, I will fix this.  Warning: Major character death. 

Masterlist Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23 

The team was gathered in a large conference room. It was late and many were tired. Some had just come back from raiding yet another base but it didn’t matter. None would rather be anywhere else but here at that moment. It was finally happening.

They had a lead. A solid concrete lead. For a moment no one said anything as they all looked to the red dot on the holographic map. Each feared that if they made a noise everything would shatter and they’d wake to find it was all a dream.

“You’re sure?” Clint finally asked, voice soft.

“About 95% sure, yes.” Strange answered. “I’ve never worked this spell before so there is always a margin of error however… I’m fairly confident.”

“She’s there.” Loki confirmed, standing tall in his leather armor. He was still pale, he still looked ill and half mad but with something to focus on he was mentally more present than he had been in weeks.

“What’s the plan?” Natasha asked. “We need to get Svetlana out of there alive.”

“We go in. Kick ass. Bring Hotaru home.” Tony answered.

“We need an actual plan.” Steve pointed out and they began planning.

Things felt better, just knowing where she was. Having the confirmation that she was alive pulled a weight off of all their shoulders. It was as if a switch was flipped and they could face the world again. They could say her name again.

In less than twelve hours, the team was collecting their gear and boarding a jet. It would be four hours until they landed in the general location. They would find her and god help anyone who dared to stand in their way. They would bring her home and rain hell down on those who dared take what was theirs to protect. There would be a line of those waiting to extract vengeance for the harm that had come to her.

Loki would be first in that line.

Subject 132 knew something was shifting but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The burn in her eyes and the fog from lack of restful sleep made it hard to think much about anything. Sometimes, she would cry though she didn’t really understand why.

The tears were a waste of water and she wished they would stop. It happened when the ache in her chest was at its worst. She wished she knew why she hurt so much. It had to do with those people she saw in her dreams. She knew that much even if she wasn’t sure who they were any longer.

Did she ever know who they were?

They visited her dreams every night with their blurred faces and harsh words. It was their words that often brought on the ache in her chest and the tears. She was worthless. She was unwanted. She was thrown away. They would tell her those things each and every night with distorted voices without fail and she would awake feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all.

The only peace she had was sometimes when she would drift to sleep, before the nightmares started, the Dark Prince would visit her. During the nightmares he was different, his face unclear and his voice just as distorted as the others but during these times she could see him clearly. She could hear his voice as she knew it was, though she couldn’t say how she knew it.

Each time the Dark Prince visited her they would be sitting on a couch in an open room. He always smelled the same and she could never pinpoint what it was his smell reminded her of. Dew and forests at night, though she wasn’t sure how she could find comfort in that but she did. The scent of him had a chill to it that she didn’t find in the forests when their cages were moved through.

How could she be sure when this was the only life she knew Everything else was an illusion, she knew. They had sent her away to make her think she was free all for their entertainment. It was a game. Always a game. Only a game.

Yet she held onto these moments with her Dark Prince, whoever he may be. It was the only peace she had and though she didn’t know why he came to her, how he knew of her or why she dreamed of him she would hold onto him. She knew he wasn’t real. Perhaps a figment of her imagination.

Was that so outlandish? She knew her sanity was slowly fading, finally. The embrace of madness would be welcomed by her when it finally came for her. Until then, she would hold onto her Dark Prince and his soft words of love for so long as she could. He’d promise to find her, to come for her and rescue her but she knew he wouldn’t.

He wasn’t real. His love wasn’t real. Perhaps his peaceful visits before the nightmares started was all a part of their game as well. It didn’t matter. She’d hold onto them just the same. What was real didn’t matter anymore.

“Tonight the game ends.” The woman with the bright eyes sneered through the bars.

Subject 132 didn’t offer much in the way of a reaction. Just a look in the woman’s direction and nothing more. Not to her eyes, not to her face. Making eye contact was dangerous. It was a good way to get struck hard. There was no reason to bring more pain.

The motel offered little to no amenities and Tony hadn’t stopped complaining about it since the door closed behind them. Loki wasn’t much better, sneering at the lumpy couch and the whole of the room smelled foul. Both men’s complaints were halfhearted, only spoken because it was expected of them. Neither would admit it.

“What now?” Clint sat down as the team crowded into the too small room.

“Now we pinpoint their location.” Strange spoke as he cleared the table top. “Shall we?”

Loki came to stand across from him, setting the necklace- her necklace in the center. Strange held his hands out over the necklace and Loki mirrored him. The room grew silent as the team observed.

It was minor magic they were weaving but delicate work just the same. Should they push too much or pull too hard they would risk snapping the tether. If that were to happen they would have to search for her the old fashioned way. That method had already resulted in them taking far too long to find her.

Green shimmered around the stone held in snake jaws in the necklace for a moment before it began to lift up and hover in a slowly expanding ball of thread. Loki slowly extracted his power from the stone as Strange worked to keep the blue thread of her soul stable.

Behind him, Clint whistled- it was rare that anyone ever saw magic being worked by one of the sorcerers. To see them both work magic together was a rare sight still. Yet over the last few months it had become increasingly common, though no less impressive.

With the threads of Loki’s power out of the stone they were able to focus on that one solitary thread that belonged to her. It wasn’t a lot to work with at all. It was no wonder why Loki hadn’t noticed the thread for so long. It was thin as a thread of spider silk but it was there just the same.

“A map would be most useful, Stark.” Strange didn’t even look to him as he spoke.

“J, you heard the man.” Tony set his phone down, screen up on the table.

“Yes, Sir.” the AI spoke as a holograph of the area lit up the table.

Together the two sorcerers worked their power through the thread of her soul slowly. It felt like it took a lifetime to work it and spread it, building their own power around it to stabilize it and magnify it as they worked.

Sweat gathered on Strange’s brow as the first hour began to pass into the second. The team milled about the room in near perfect silence. This was their chance. It could be their only chance. No one wanted to be the one that caused it to fail.

“There.” Loki said simply as the third hour came to a close.

“We’ve got her.” Strange added as he let his hands fall. The tremble in them was more pronounced with the expended energy but he schooled the shaking to a minimum quickly.

“Let’s go.” Tony urged.

“No.” Loki let the strands of his power lower and settle into the stone again. He’d still not take them back into himself.

“No?” Clint asked.

“Why the hell not?” Tony’s face was red but he took a deep breath to calm himself as best he could.

“If we rush in she could die.” Loki didn’t even bother to look at Tony as he spoke.

“And if we wait, she could die.” Tony’s rush across the small room was stopped by Thor stepping in between them.

“And if we rush in with a flawed plan, she could die as a result.” Steve pointed out.

“He’s right. We need to a plan.” Natasha pushed herself off the dresser she had been leaning against. “They’ve been killing captives as soon as we move in. We can’t risk them killing her.”

A plan needed to be formulated. They couldn’t go in blind and it took every ounce of reason and self control to keep themselves in check. They would come for her. They would save her. Even if everyone else died, they would leave that building with her alive.

Subject 132 was pulled from her nightmare as the guards went about the large room lighting torches. If it was day or night, she couldn’t tell. It had been a long time since such things mattered. She slept when she slept, she was awake when she was awake.

The light flickered and danced on the concrete walls. Passively, she thought it was pretty. The torches were burning and that meant that today someone would die. They would be the lucky one. For them the pain was going to be over.

Vincent stood tall at the top of the stairs. This place wasn’t perfect but it would do. He’d take his pleasure from her one last time, he decided as he looked down at her curled into herself in her cage. Dear Subject 132, she would be the key. Once he had his fill of her he would gift her to the Gods. What better gift to give than the toy he was personally so fond of?

A smile cut its way across his face as he began to descend the stairs. With each step the sound echoed through the room. The guards lit the touches as he made his way down to the first landing.

“Today we give a gift to the Gods.”

With his arms spread wide and sleeves hanging down, he made his announcement. The robed figures below dropped to their knees and their voices cried out to him in agreement. It was music to his ears even as the guards carried on as if nothing had happened.

The ringing of his phone cut into his moment.

“This is Vincent.” It had better be important.

“They are coming for you.”

“It is unimportant.” He started down the stairs again. “I’ll have a god to destroy our enemies. He will destroy them all and turn this world into paradise.”

The team moved through the woods. It took self control not to rush in. Each of them would prefer to be there sooner rather than later. Each of them wanted to see her and know that she was alright. Each of them needed to have the light back in their lives.

Each of them needed her but Loki knew none needed her as much as he. She was his everything. She was his light. He needed her. He needed her to be safe. Loki knew she wasn’t ready to be his but unless he knew she was safe, unless she was safe enough to heal and grow he could never have her. Now that he knew he wanted her, he would have her.

“The building is up ahead.” Tony’s voice came through the communication devices. “Let’s get this over and done with. After, dinner’s on me.”

Subject 132 watched as a boy was pulled from his cage. It was hard to say how old he was. Age was so hard to tell and in the end it didn’t matter. He was just a thing to be used, just as she was. It didn’t matter how old he was. Nothing about him mattered. Just as nothing about her mattered. He was just a Subject, just a number no different than she was.

Absently she watched as the boy was marched to the alter. It would be over for him soon. He was lucky, his pain was coming to an end. Subject 132 wondered if her pain would ever end. Would she ever be allowed the release of death?

The woman with the bright eyes stepped aside. The movement drew Subject 132’s eyes away from where the boy was being placed on the alter and to the man with silk robes approaching her. He was different and she knew him on sight. She would always know him on sight, though she didn’t know a name for him.

The others were keepers, masters and guards. Some wore combat gear and guns, others wore heavy cotton robes. This man however wasn’t just a master, he was The Master. He wore robes of silk that moved around him as he walked with his head held high.

“Come, let us enjoy ourselves.” The man held out his hand to her as the woman with the too bright eyes opened the cage.

If she grabbed the hand and it was a trick, she’d be beaten. If she ignored the kindness and it wasn’t a trick, she’d be beaten. There was no way to know what the right answer was with Master. She knew however that her legs were weak and so she took his hand as she climbed out of the cage.

That was the wrong answer however. When she was leaning most of her weight on him and trying to get her legs to work under her, he yanked his hand away. The loss of support sent her crashing to the ground. Scrapes opened on her knees and blood smeared with dirt to color her skin.

“Crawl.” Master ordered and so she did.

She crawled after him as best she could on her hands and knees. She knew the dress she wore was short. That was likely part of the point. He wanted everyone to see her. Blood and dirt caked on her legs but did nothing to protect her modesty.

When they reached a padded bench the Master reached down and hauled her over it by her hair, making sure she could see the boy. It hurt but she did not cry. The pain the Master would give her as she was forced to watch the boy end his life to bring a monster into the world was nothing compared to the pain she felt nightly in her heart.

As the Master worked her body to bring himself pleasure, she didn’t react. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t fight. Fighting made it worse. In front of her she watched the boy end his pain and she smiled. For him, it was over.

The team made quick work of infiltrating the building. Every single person they ran into, Zealot or Hydra- it didn’t matter- was killed on sight. It was messy and harsh. It was out of character. It spoke to how desperate they were to have her back. It was rationalized by the more morally bound members of the team in that they had to prevent any sort of alarm being raised.

They however were functioning on emotion and adrenaline, though they tried to contain it. They were sleep deprived. They made mistakes.

First they took on too many at a time, causing some members of the team to be held behind. Contain the mess, contain the issue so as no one finds out. Easier said than done. Yet Loki and Tony raced through the rest of the building, dispatching targets as quickly as possible. It would be one of the few times they would work together as a unit, not needing much in the way of communication.

Strange was closest behind them with Thor not far behind. He would do what had to be done to protect the world regardless of the cost. Both Tony and Loki knew that and ultimately the difference in priority made them both hesitate to allow the wizard to catch up to them and join them on the front lines. Loki didn’t trust Thor’s judgment and so his brother was also pushed behind.

Stairs took them down into a basement where they found a system of tunnels. They swiftly navigated the tunnels, following the sound of chanting. As much as they wanted to rush, to run they could not. The sound of their steps already echoed down the hall. The sound of running would just tip them off.

Strange managed to catch up to them just as a large beast of a creature smashed into them. The battle was on. If the Zealots didn’t know they were coming, they did now. No one dared allow themselves to question who had died to bring this beast into existence. It was too painful to think that just maybe this beast was all that was left of her.

Subject 132 watched as the alter was rinsed of blood. Her cheek rested against the plush cushion of the bench. She made no effort to move as the sound of her blood dripping to the ground was drown out by the water running off the alter.

The guards were talking in hushed voices as loud banging came from the hall. She didn’t pay the noise much attention. It was just a game. It was just another trick. She wondered if the trick was for her or the others. Was she worth tricking like this anymore?

“Come.” Master ordered.

When she struggled to stand, struggled to move fast enough he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked. As he was dragging her behind him, she saw the portion of wall at the top of the stairs explode into fragments.

Up on the stairwell she saw them. It felt like he world came crashing down around her. The pain in her heart was again fresh and tears she didn’t know she still had gathered in her eyes.

“Hotaru!” The man in a metal suit yelled and she knew the voice.

“My Light!” Her Dark prince cut a deep gash into the beast that had been summoned from the sacrificed boy but it was not enough to down the creature. Rather than defeat it the gash seemed to only enrage it more.

Thor slammed into the beast with his hammer, driving him back into the hall. It was disturbing how the beast held up to blow after blow. Nothing seemed to do more than just knock him back.

“I’ll keep this one busy. Loki, get to her!” Another mighty swing of the hammer sent the beast back a few more steps.

Who was Hotaru? What did the Dark Prince mean by ‘his light’? Why did they bring the Dark Prince here? Why did the metal man have the voice of her brother? How did she know she had a brother? Who was her brother? Who was the prince?

“Get up here.”

Master yanked her hair again, pulling her up the stairs of the alter and toward the table as fighting continued. More people entered the room but the beast kept them all busy. Guards were cut down in the fighting along side the robed men.

Subject 132 couldn't find it in her heart to care what was happening to her. She couldn’t find it in her heart to care that the Master was pushing her against the table. It was cold and wet against her hands and knees as she pushed herself up.

“Hotaru!” Again the voice of her brother called out from across the room only to be followed up with a bang.

She looked at him. For a moment their eyes locked and Tony did the stupidest thing he could have- he took his helmet off and screamed for her again. He was distracted and one blow hit him, reminding him of the fight at hand as Thor tried to regain the attention of the beast.

Loki intercepted a blow that would have surely crushed in his unprotected skull. For a moment his eyes locked with the ocean blue of Loki’s and a silent ‘thank you’ was passed and accepted with a curt node.

They tried to focus on the beast. They tired to focus on the battle. They had to. They must. To get distracted could mean death. But none could put out of their mind that she was getting on the table, that she was laid out on the alter. They had to hurry. They had to save her. They had to make it. They had to make it in time. They had to.

Subject 132 watched as a flash of power washed over the beast. A shimmer of green and it was over. She knew however that the beast was dying before the battle had even begun. Their time was limited, they always died out on their own.

The team was battered and broken, spread thin across the large room. There were so many guards and they had to act fast. Already they had begun dispatching the captives. There was only one captive that mattered to Loki and Tony however. Only one they cared to look at.

“Let her go.” Loki’s voice carried the air of authority and a snarl of danger both through the room yet he did not yell as he walked. There was a slight hitch in his step and blood ran down his leg.

“I’d listen to him.” Tony answered, allowing the suit to support him. “We’re taking her home now.”

“Look who’s here.” Master leaned down toward her as if he was speaking a secret. “They’ve come to watch you do the only useful thing in your measly life.”

Guards surrounded them. They were tired and sore. They were injured and nothing seemed to be going right. They couldn’t get to her fast enough. They had to get to her.

Loki couldn’t take his eyes off of her for more than a moment to cut down the next guard. She was dirty. She was hurt. She was bleeding. The more he looked, the angrier he was. His power bubbled and surged within him as he let it lash out at the handful of guards surrounding him.

It wasn’t enough. He’d allowed himself to become too weak over the last few months. It was a mistake he couldn’t take back. He wasn’t strong enough after fighting the beast. He was running on empty and to continue to use his power would be drawing on the energy that kept him alive.

He’d do it. He’d give his life to save her.

He could see the fresh blood on her thighs, even from the distance they were at. It was maddening to know what they had done to her.

“They’ve come to watch you die and celebrate your death.” The man they knew as Vincent from the files spoke, his voice carrying easily over the fighting and through the room.

“Get away from her!” Tony yelled spinning to face the alter after blasting away yet another guard. His flight system was damaged by the beast. Iron Man was grounded.

“I will kill you.” Loki snarled, feeling all of the rage and pain from that fated moment in the tower so long ago up until this moment surge through him. “I will rip open your chest and crush your beating heart for what you’ve done to her.”

“Look how angry they are.” Vincent leaned down and spoke over her. “Look how much your being alive is hurting them.”

She knew what she had to do. Tears slipped from her eyes as she wrapped her fingers around the could hilt of the dagger. Not once did she think about plunging it into Master. Not once did she think about striking back. Not once did she think of spilling the blood of another.

Around the room, those in Robes who were able to began chanting anew. Their voices swelled and surged as she lifted the knife in one hand. All eyes were on her causing Loki to take a harsh blow to the head that left him disoriented for a short moment.

Loki wasted no time in killing the man that had struck him and turned his eyes back to her. He was tired. He was weak and it angered him to know he allowed himself to be. This was his fault. She was on the alter and it was his fault.

His light was on her back on an alter with a knife in her hand. He had to get to her. There was no other choice. She needed him. He needed her. She had to live. Even if he had to wait for her, even if she never wanted him again he needed her to live. She had to live.

With a roar of rage, Loki’s power lashed out around him. It was inelegant but effective in how it cut down the guards and Zealots alike. It wasn’t enough however and the enemy was still thick in the room.

Subject 132 looked back at the fighting in the room. With sadness in her heart she watched as her Dark prince took a harsh blow to the side. Blood gushed from the wound. Even from her place, she could see the pain wash across his face.

He was in pain because of her. The Dark Prince came for her. They all had come for her. Looking around, she took the room in with new eyes. They were there. All of them and they were all hurt.

Clint and Natasha were taking out guards at the top of the stairs. They both looked battle worn and bloody. It hurt to see them like that. They came for her. Or at least, maybe they did. She’d not remembered them right until now but that was okay. Now she knew who they were.

Those doubts came into her head. They always came into her head. What if this was a trick? What if it was just a game to hurt her more? What if it didn’t matter? Did it matter if it was a trick or not? If she closed her eyes and trusted, could that be all that mattered?

When she opened her eyes again she trained them on Tony. His name came to her again. She could picture his warm brown eyes smiling at her. He was battered but his suit looked to be holding up just the same. Damage had been taken because of her. Pain was felt because of her.

With tears in her eyes, she looked to the Doctor. He was the one who first offered her comfort all that time ago. It was with him she first found some semblance of safety. He stood behind her Dark Prince and Tony. Strange, she knew that was his name now. With each breath she took, she remembered more and more.

Her eyes moved on and settled on him. Her Dark Prince, Loki. She remembered their times together. With a shaking breath, she remembered the feel of his lips against hers. If it had all been a game, it was worth losing. The memories were worth the pain. As tears slipped from her eyes, she decided she would always remember.

‘I forgive you.’ With no voice, she could only mouth the words and hope that they would understand. ‘I love you all. I love you, Loki.’

Time seemed to stand still for Loki he watched her speak the words. No sound was needed. Whatever was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be good. The words she mouthed sounded far too much like ‘goodbye’ for his taste.

Tony had the same idea and pushed forward recklessly as Thor came to his side only to be ordered to get to Hotaru. Time was running out. Whatever was about to happen, it had to be stopped.

Time marched on at an unforgiving pace however. Loki was so close, close enough that he could see the tears she cried as she plunged the dagger into her soft belly. Blood welled up from the wound as she pulled the blade up. It sliced her open easily and only stopped when the blade hit her sternum.

“Hotaru!”

The world stopped around him as he called her name. Tony’s voice echoed his call but he did not hear it. He did not hear the chanting of the Zealots. All he knew, all he saw was the red of her blood pouring out of her. It spilled down her sides and pooled on the table before dripping onto the ground.

That dripping was the only thing Loki could hear. The well of his power was nearly dry yet he reached out to her with what he had left. With all the power he had left he listened to the steady beating of her heart for a brief moment and then a silence that let the world back in.

“No.” Tony choked on the word somewhere behind him.

Around him, the last of his power flared out and cut down not nearly enough of the robed men to make him feel better. A rage and hurt bloomed in his chest that rivaled the pain he felt when his mother died.

“Hotaru.” Loki’s voice cracked even as he stalked forward, “I will make you pay for this. It will be slow. You will beg for death.”

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[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, KIERSTEN! You’ve been accepted for the role of IMOGEN with a faceclaim change to Brittany O’Grady. Admin Kaitlin: Oh Kiersten... It’s no secret to anyone who asks how much I am in love with Isabella Gagliano. They are such a fascinating character. They bring this vibrancy, this sheer tour de force with them around every bend, carry their thirst for justice with them around every corner--their pen as their sword and paper as their shield. And you, Kiersten, my sunshine angel you brought them to us full throttle. I am particularly in love with the plots you’ve laid out for them, all the ways they seek to raze Verona to ash for the sake of the truth, no matter how bloodied it may be. I absolutely cannot wait for them to bless our dash. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER:

Alias | Kiersten

Age | 20 (dub club, baby!)

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level |  6.5/10, give or take a number depending on assignments, muse, mood, and all that jazz! I’m getting ready to go back to school; however, I think I’ve managed to keep activity up pretty well, in spite of that. Anyway, I have burning passion for writing (and pain)–and DiVerona! And along with my burning passion comes guilty pleasures–that is, prioritizing replies over not-so-important (but aren’t they all supposed to be important? c’est la vie!) assignments.

Also… I’m just gonna slide this here… https://catherinedaly.tumblr.com/ :)

Timezone |  EST

IN CHARACTER:

Character | Isabella Elena Gagliano (with a FC change to Brittany O’Grady, pleeeeease!)

ISABELLA

origin: Spain

meaning: pledged to God; God is bountiful

“Qué linda, qué hermosa–nuestro amor. Gracias a Dio.” These are some of the earliest phrases that she can remember coming from Candela and Emilio Gagliano throughout her childhood. Affectionately nicknamed Bella from an early age, the Gagliano child has never been a stranger to beloved adoration. Every morning, her parents would shower the beautiful babe with kisses; every night, they would get on their knees and pray at the side of the crib, thanking God for the gift He deigned to give them.

ELENA

origin: Greece

meaning: shining light; the bright one

Candela Gagliano knew what she was doing when she looked down at her darling baby and decided to gift her with a middle name full of light and brightness. That is what Isabella was to the Gagliano family: a bundle of light that, when cultivated as sweetly as she’d been, would one day righteously burn anyone who dared to try to snuff her out.

GAGLIANO

origin: Italy/Germany

meaning: joyous; brave

There’s bravery in looking the hurricane in the eye and now cowering, but winking. There’s bravery in relying on words and ink rather than guns and bullets–this ideology has been absorbed by the little canary who prefers to sing her truths rather than fight battles that she knows she’s unequipped for. She takes immense joy in dealing justice–a rarity, especially in a place such as Verona.

What drew you to this character? | Would you believe me if I said a bit of my heart has always belonged to Isabella Gagliano? I’m no better than Eros leaving Psyche to tend to her as she so rightfully deserves. When I began toying with the idea of applying for a second character (yes, I know I’m tardy to the party), I told myself that I would look for someone who pushed me out of my comfort zone of innately soft characters. By no means do I consider Isabella rough, but she’s brazen in a sort of “it’s better to ask for forgiveness rather than beg for permission” kind of way. There’s a fire inside of her that I’m dying to get ahold of. And, after going through the list over and over again, I realized that I couldn’t turn a blind eye to Isa anymore.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.

SEE, I’VE COME TO BURN YOUR KINGDOM DOWN: Isabella is no stranger to injustice or loss; she’s had more than enough of her fair share of both while living in Spain. Her move to Verona was meant to only be an escape, to rid herself of the plaguing thoughts of her mother and father, but the seasoned  man who took her underneath his aged wing implored her to write, she could not refuse. She wrote. The Verona Giornale took note of the little canary and offered her a place, promising her as much anonymity as they can give under the moniker of Imogen, and she greedily took them up on her offer, promising herself that she would EXPOSE THE MOBS FOR ALL THAT THEY’VE DONE.  And may God have mercy on the souls who find themselves immortalized in ink by Isabella Gagliano; for, if they want to live like gods, she will assure that they are crucified like them—painfully, magnificently, and publicly.

YOU HOLD MY HEART, YOU HOLD ME DOWN: Isa was the one to force her beloved to choose between her heart and her family, for she was under the guise that she meant more to Celeste than the family that left her with no choice but to marry and join the likes of the Montagues. But if there was  one thing her parents taught her, it was to never make assumptions; and yet, the Gagliano woman did and got burned in the end. Casting Celeste out of her house that night was the most painful thing she’d ever done, and I’d like to see how she could come to terms with it. Logically, of course, it makes sense–Isabella cannot afford to lose herself in a woman that can never fully be hers, but her bleeding heart cries for its stellina, cries to have the other sweetly nestled against the contours of Isabella’s body, even if only for a night. EXPLORING THE RELATIONSHIP WITH CELESTE is something I’m dying to do, especially since I see Isa as a rather possessive person; will she cave for Celeste, or will she go out of her way to try to make the Duval woman jealous? Will she seclude herself because of her battered heart  and work twice as hard to expose the evil doings of the mobs?

CORRUPT A MAN’S HEART WITH A GIFT–THAT’S HOW YOU FIND OUT WHO YOU DEALIN’ WITH: I’d like for Isa to LOOK FOR WEAK LINKS WITHIN THE MOBS’ ARMOR, for both her own sanity and her publications. Though Fate has been cruel to her in the past, she’s loathe to believe that it could continue to be; surely, Isabella believes, not everyone involved in the work of Damiano or Cosimo is there because of their own volition. Surely, she believes, there are some willing to sing their song for her, so long as she offers something in return. While neither of us are sure what will be offered, I’d love to get the chance to flesh it out and figure out just how far Isabella will go to get what she thinks she  needs.

Are you comfortable with killing of your character? | Only if it’ll cause the maximum amount of pain possible.

IN CHARACTER INTERVIEW:

What is your favorite place in Verona?

Wrapped under plush blankets, arm strewn lovingly across a frame she’s mapped dozens of times–that’s her favorite place in Verona. But, there’s power in a name and in the unfettered truth that she’s too selfish to give up; to remedy, Isa keeps the truth tucked close to her chest out of fear that, if she shares, she’ll lose it and Celeste. So, Isabella settles for something far more bland, but still honest: “My office– at home or at the Giornale.” The answer is far more bland, but it’s still honest. Both places scream Isabella Gagliano, for they’re littered with pads of paper marred by  her loop-filled handwriting and her walls and desk are decorated with pictures she’s taken in her down time (however, her office at home dons more intimate photos–candids, true moments of happiness–than the one at work). “There’s something liberating in sitting down in a space that’s wholeheartedly your own and and just… Being able to write and to be. It’s cathartic, really.”

      2. What does your typical day look like?

“I don’t really have a set pattern of what I do every day.” Isabella prefers to keep a healthy amount of change in her life, just in case someone starts to trail her. Writing under a moniker offers more protection than her given name, but it doesn’t offer invincibility; she wishes to follow in her parents footsteps, but in her own way: stealthily, creatively.  It’s not easy living in Verona without mob protection, but she makes do with what she has; besides, she’d rather die a martyr than a murderer. Languidly and cat-like, she places an elbow on the arm of the leather chair, lips jutting out in thought. “But, first and foremost,” the curly-haired brunette begins, “I wake up. The time varies, depending on what I have planned for the day. If I have a ridiculously light schedule, I’ll lounge in bed ‘til noon or I get hungry—whichever comes first.” Playfully, she chuckles at her own admission before continuing, “But on ‘normal’ days, I head to Giornale, I interview people, I write. Maybe I’ll find time to visit a few friends or just wander around the city. I’ve been here for a few months, sure, but every single day I feel like there’s something else–something new–that I learn. And that’s a journalist’s dream, no?”

      3. What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“So what—this is it?” Disbelief colors her words and she’s grateful; without it, she knows without a doubt that Celeste would be able to hear the begging undertones, the wretched part of Isabella that wants nothing more than to love and be loved in return.

“Mi amore, what do you want from me?” Celeste’s voice is tired, worn. “You know me better than I do myself; you know—“

“What do I want? What do I want, Celeste?” Exasperated hands slam against her countertop, causing the other to jump in her perch on the couch. “You! All I want is you! How many languages do I have to say it in for you to understand it? How many times?” Isa rakes her hands through her curls to calm herself, but it’s no use; panic and vexation have settled deep within the marrows of her bones, for she knows deep down that this is the end.

“I can’t leave Tomas—“

“You don’t even love him.” Isabella’s voice cracks as it stumbles over the four letter word, the four letter word she’s breathed countless amounts of time  against the soft skin of Celeste’s neck, at the insides of her thighs. Isabella closes the distance between them, brown eyes imploring as she nestled beside her lover on the couch, fingertips reaching and finding purchase on the other’s hands. “You love me. Why—why am I not enough?”

For the first time since the conversation began, she swears she can see guilt in her lover’s alluring eyes. Celeste says nothing, and the silence is as loud as anguished screams. Because you can’t provide for me in the way that my family needs like he can, Isa supplies mentally, because you have no merit in Verona. Because you are neither Capulet nor Montague aligned.

Because you were too late.

“Then go.” She all but snatches her hand away from Celeste’s and she abruptly stands. “Get out. Get out.” Heavy footfalls thump against the hardwood floors as she disappears down the hall to their—no, her—bedroom. A few moments pass before Isabella rounds the corner, Celeste’s belongings carelessly bundled in her arms. “Leave,” Isa hisses, all but throwing the clothes at the redhead, “and stay gone. Stay with him in that big, grand house of yours.”

The Duval woman can only comply. With clothes in her hands and tears in her eyes, she casts her beloved a longing look before leaving. And as soon as the door slams shut, Isabella crumbles to a heap of bitterness, of brokenheartedness. She pulls her knees to her chest and raggedly sobs until her throat is raw.

———

“Signorina Gagliano?” the interviewer prompts, brows furrowing.

She blinks—once, twice, then murmurs, “Perdonami—my mind has been elsewhere as of late.” Then, to remedy her inappropriate silence, she flashes a grin and admits, “Honestly, it’s a bit unnerving being on the other side of this. I’m much more comfortable in your position, caro mio.” His chuckle reveals that he’s not upset, not even bothered. He just wants answers, Isa tells herself.

All anyone ever wants is an answer until it’s not quite that they want to hear. She swallows thickly.

“My biggest mistake would have to be giving people the benefit of the doubt.” Doing so with Celeste had left a gaping hole in her chest that she knows will never fully fill. “When somebody shows you who they are the first time, amico mio, you better believe them.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

“To write,” she murmurs softly, brown eyes more vulnerable than she’d like to admit. It comes as easily as air to her, that writing, but it brings so much pain, so much misery. It dredges up memories that she has spent years trying to bury. “It’s a gift and a curse, you know.” To equally love and hate what you do, to know that it’s the best thing to do–even if not for your own gain. She knows this better than many at the Giornale, for they write from a distance with no ties to the mobs, but she writes from  unwanted connections: her lovesick heart, her bitter soul. “But, you know what they say: Nothing easy is worth having, or something along those lines.” And truly, deep down, Isabella knows this as well as she knows the sky is blue and the grass is green, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach.

      4. What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

This is the one question that leaves a metallic tang in her mouth—the mention of the mobs in what she thought was lighthearted practice for one of the newer interns has driven her to lock her jaws until she bleeds. This is all they do: they kill, they steal, and they lie—for trivial, worldly possessions. Money. Fame. Power. Her fingertips twitch involuntarily, the minuscule movement born from irritation and disdain. And this is why I’m here—to strip them of it all, to remind them that the pen is far mightier than the sword.

Isabella clears her throat and her mind by extension; to blatantly admit something that bold, even in the face of a comrade, would be the final nail in a casket she’s not yet prepared to lie in. “I’m not sure if it’s fair for us to have a say on a world that we know nothing of,” she breezily lies, fingertips absentmindedly tugging at her dark brown curls. A brow arches, however, asking the question that she knows better than to voice and he knows better than to answer: Don’t you know better than to ask about the work of the Devil?

Nonetheless, glossed lips tick upward at the corners, just enough to indicate a smile. “My thoughts are based on facts and facts alone when it comes to things not prominent in my own life, so I’m sure that makes them rather bland.”

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here!

EXTRAS:

MBTI: ENTP - The Debater

ZODIAC: Libra - October 11, 1994

MOCK BLOG:

https://isabellagagliano.tumblr.com/

PLAYLIST:

https://open.spotify.com/user/r7z4vyhjr8g2jp2t30pkapvwf/playlist/6eVrYzXLiF281uOg3GeqI1?si=PPb1kT6lQp6ZTCDGgA3sqw

HEADCANONS:

Isabella has a tiny, scripted-font “C.” behind her left ear. One drunken escapade quickly led to another, and before either Celeste or Isabella knew it, they were in a hole-in-the-wall tattoo shop. Isa held Celeste’s hand as she got her tattoo—“I love you, stellina, I love you,” the brunette had slurred with a lazy grin throughout the process.

The Gagliano woman is possessive, to say the least; but who can blame her—the child who lost what was most important to her at the time to outside forces, to greedy hands that only sought to take?

Along with journalism, Isa enjoys photography in her free time.

She’s fluent in Spanish, Italian, English, and she knows conversational Russian.

The man that took her in and encouraged her to write recently passed; she visits his grave at least once every two weeks.

[thechaoticwonderland]

I finally have time to write, damn it! I have been MIA for the longest time (and Twitter has been basically my place for word vomit) but I swear I have been trying to write something here -- as proven by my numerous drafted posts. LOL. 😓

If you’ve been following me on Twitter or Instagram, I TURNED TWENTY FOUR a few months back. Yup, I have officially changed my profile every where to 24. I still can’t believe I am THAT old but meh. 

I celebrated my birthday walking dogs and getting drunk around Sheung Wan and Central Hongkong with my boyfriend -- super low key but probably one of the best birthday celebrations ever! 💜 But I’d probably save a different post for that -- WHEN I FIND THE TIME AND ENERGY TO DO SO. (Possibly never, but let’s see lol)

And since I am T W E N T Y F O U R (ack!), I have decided to come up with a blog post on 24 life realizations I have at 24 - some are realizations I’ve had leading up to my 24th but you get my point. 😂

1. Love comes when you least expect it - cliché, I know. But I met my boyfriend at this random birthday party I gate-crashed AKA his 30th birthday. 😁 Long story short, we’ve been going out for over a year now. We both weren’t looking for anything then since he just got out of a toxic relationship, and I was casually going out with random people. But here we are. 😜

2. No need to rush things, do things at your own pace - I started my Masters over 2 years ago, and you’ve guessed it, most of my batch mates have their Masters degree already. 🙆🏾 At some point, I wanted to study full-time cos I’ve gotten envious of my friends. But since my parents are still (yep, I know. Shame on me) paying for my tuition fee, I don’t want to burden them with allowance expenses + my living expenses (If you’re new here, I actually live alone lol) so I need to keep my job. Now I’m 1 subject away from defending my paper! I’m almost there! And it’s actually not bad. 🤗

3. Don’t live beyond your means - Ahh, my dad’s favorite life lesson. I never thought about it then since I was living under my parents’ support, but now that I live alone I have to make ends meet month on month. In layman’s terms IF YOU CAN’T AFFORD IT, JUST DON’T. 

4. Don’t put your eggs in one basket - I know I am not the best person to be all preachy about money (cos I am bad at handling my own finances, but I try) but I have 3 savings accounts in different banks. It comes in handy when one bank fucks shit up (like goes on a nationwide shut down *cough BPI*, or one that just eats up your card and your money from time to time *cough BDO*). 

5. Your past doesn’t define you or how you’d succeed in the future - Another cliché saying, but I swear you get to realize why people say it often. I’ve done so much shit when I was younger but believe me when I say such experiences will help you realize stuff later on. After all, we learn from our mistakes and such mistakes will push us to be better people tomorrow. 

6. Your choices in life are your own, don’t let people tell you otherwise - You will never share the exact same beliefs with everyone, I’m sure about that. Just do you and brush off other opinions, they don’t matter - believe me. 

7. Keep your circle close and small - Your real friends genuinely care, the others are just curious. Be cautious.

8. Always be kind - And this applies to everyone: guards, maids, janitors, etc. Believe me, if you’re nice to everyone, it’s easier to ask for favors. 😜

9. Travel alone - You should try this at least once in your life, me thinks. It gave me a sense of liberty and independence! I did this when I was trying to mend my cracked heart - and I came back to Manila feeling all refreshed and happy. I guess I learned that I don’t need a man to survive! HAHA! 😂

10. Don’t complain, do something about it - Ranting is fine, human nature. But if you will just sit down and whine when something could actually be done, then maybe you should rethink your life choices honey. Instead of wasting your time and energy complaining, why don’t you stop and think? Things and answers won’t always be served to you on a silver platter, FIND WAYS. 😊

11. Don’t forget to remove your make up at the end of the day - PLEASE. Do yourself a favor and let your face breathe! 😛 

12. ALWAYS MOISTURIZE AND PUT SPF - *i-capslock mo para intense!!!* I couldn’t stress this enough. I actually keep various moisturizers depending on the weather, I have intensive moisturizers for when I travel and light ones for the Philippine heat. Just please, never skip it! 

13. One at a time - My boyfriend would always tell me this when I’m stressing over work, school, among other things. It helps, actually. Stop, arrange your thoughts, and do things one at a time. 

12. Treat yourself - Now before you go crazy and tell me that this is a bad thing, I didn’t say you have to buy that expensive bag you’ve been eyeing on for so long because “I DESERVE IT”. Going back to point number 3, if you can’t afford it - IT’S A NO. It can be as simple as “I did a great job today, I deserve good coffee - not my usual pantry coffee”, which is my usual way of treating myself. If you can afford to buy that expensive bag to treat yourself, BY ALL MEANS DO IT. But always remember POINT NUMBER 3!  

13. Family will always come first - Ah, this is one of the many things I realized growing up. Of course I was super excited to grow up so I can go out with my friends whenever I wanted to before. But when I moved out, I always look forward to weekends so I can come home to my family. What a baby, I know right?  

14. Let go and let God - I am not the most religious person in the world, heck I barely even hear mass (I’m busy, but that’s not an excuse I’m sorry). But I really believe in greater power from above. I always find myself in hopeless situations, where I find my shitty ass crying myself to bed on most nights (add that I also live alone so imagine how bad it must be lol). But I usually find myself just getting through the worst days with little miracles. And I always thank God for that. 

15. If you feel so happy with the wrong person, image how happy you’d be with the right one? - Eep, another cliché saying c/o me lol. But seriously, I thought I couldn’t be happy anymore when I once got my heart broken HAHAHA. Cut to mid-last year, I’m extremely happy -- waaay happier than before. Not saying I’m already with the person for me, though I really do hope so (HAHAHA yuck cheese) but I’m happier than before and I’m sure the person I’m with is a better person amongst all the guys I went out with before.

16. Take long walks. - I enjoy this so much especially abroad. I went on a birthday trip in Hong Kong and I spent 70% of the time walking - thinking and reflecting. 😅 I think long peaceful walks are good for everyone’s sanity.

17. Cut off toxic people. -  Not everyone you lose is a loss. If they aren’t doing you good, what’s the use of keeping them? 

18. Life is what you make it. - If you want something to happen, the first step starts with you. 😅 If you don’t take the first step, nothing will happen. SERIOUSLY. Everything doesn’t happen by chance!!!!! 

19. You don’t have to have a reaction on everything. - I believe there are things better left unsaid. I know a lot of people would disagree. But I still think the saying “If you have nothing nice to say, just zip it” is still superior. Lol.

20. Work isn’t everything. - I recently had to stop working for a week and a half due to some health concerns. It sucked balls. But I came to realize work isn’t everything -- YOUR HEALTH (mental health included) IS WAY MORE IMPORTANT.

21. Quite connected to the bullet prior, Work can wait. - I have learned to keep work within working hours. Remember, work will always come and it will never be done. Know what’s most important and prioritize! That’s the key. Whatever’s left can be done tomorrow. You don’t have to spend 12 hours in the office all day and stress out on work, tbh.

22. Choose your battles. - Not everything is worth stressing over. (remember point 19!) 😋

23. Respect begets respect. - Respect opinions, respect people - young and old alike. Sometimes we just have to learn to agree to disagree. 

24. Live life to the fullest. - Another cliché saying, but honestly you’ll never be as young as you are today. Make mistakes so you will never make the same ones in the future, learn the ropes of life through the decisions you make everyday. Not everything will go our way, that’s for sure, but life is only what we make of it. 

I hope you got to pick something up from my blabbing. To be honest, it took me months to finish this list since I barely have time in my hands. Lol. 😬 

I missed you, Tumblr! ✨  

[greetingsfromthebottomofthewell]

PHOBIAS ARE SHAPED LIKE LITTLE GREEN PILLS - PART 2: DROMOPHOBIA

[source] [triggers]

seems a bit like an unfair game

Dromophobia - The second phobia I experienced. Basically, I was too scared to cross the street. I feel like this is something that is going to stick with me even though the drug has already worn off.

Again, Hayong here. I’m not going to introduce myself again, you can see it all on the previous post anyways. Yesterday, my father passed away, and a comment stuck out to me. It asked me why I acted so nonchalant about my dad dying, but to be completely honest, I’m still in a state of shock. How would you feel if you just experienced absolute fear for the first time. I was not myself, and even when I took the second pill this morning, it felt like something else was making me take the pill.

I want to tell you a memory I had when I was a child before showing you my log from the next phobia.

When I was twelve, I started to go through a rebellious phase. I would refuse to do my homework, I would lash back at my mother when she would yell at me, and homework was the last priority on my list. My mother would lose her temper sometimes and take me to a dead-end street and grab the soft parts of my body and pinch as hard as she could. Yes, it left bruises, but they were in places people wouldn’t be able to see. I know, it’s abuse, but hell, I don’t blame her. My father went to Korea constantly leaving us behind, and even with the money he would send us, we would barely scrape by month after month. Sorry, got off track a little bit.

I want to tell you why my mother stopped taking me to the dead-end street. She was in the middle of yelling and pinching when we both noticed a man standing behind our car. He looked visibly upset, and my mother quickly straightened herself out and started the engine. She tried backing out of the street when the man ran back to his car and blocked us in. A kid about my age was sitting on the passenger side. The man ran back out of his car and up to my mother’s window. She didn’t even look up at him. I remember being absolutely scared. Although my mother wasn’t the best person in the world, I still loved her and I didn’t want to lose her. I looked back up at the man and noticed his son was standing behind him with the barrel of the hunting rifle placed on the back of his head. Before I could yell anything out, the window was covered with gore. Bits of skull, skin, and brain matter slowly slid down and I threw up in the car.

The kid never ended up going to jail for it. He ended up going to some psychiatric ward. Funny, how memories that I tried to hold down for so long start coming up at the most inconvenient times. I never liked streets after that, and this drug made it even worse.

08:12 - I took the pill as soon as I woke up. I have my alarm set at 8:15 but I always end up waking up a couple of minutes earlier. Still don’t know how I should feel about my father’s death, honestly, one part of me feels like I will never really feel sad about him dying.

08:45 - Huh, I don’t really feel like this pill did anything. I need to pick some stuff up from the store, also, I guess I should go ahead and let my manager know that I need to use the rest of my sick days. I think I have 3 left?

09:12 - Well, the good news is, I figured out what I’m afraid of now. As soon as I walked out of my house and got ready to cross the street an old memory hit me like a tsunami. I’ll tell you what the memory is somewhere on this post. Maybe near the beginning. I still tried taking a step on the street, but as soon as I did, I saw blood everywhere. In the grass, in the streets, on my body, I couldn’t do it. I just ran back inside.

12:48 - I ate some lunch and went into the living room. While I was sitting on the couch, I looked out the window and saw the neighbor from across the street, Ben, walk out of his house. He gave me a wave, but I noticed he was coming over to my house to talk with me. Without a second thought, I ran out of my house and asked him what he wanted. He wanted to pay me back the 20 bucks I loaned him last week. I tried telling him it was okay, but with the bill in his hand, he walked half-way across the street. Suddenly, a loud rumble filled the street, and before I could open my mouth, Ben’s body was obliterated by a speeding truck. I wanted to rush out and see if he was alive, but my body wouldn’t let me. Defeated, I walked back into the house and sat on my couch.

14:12 - I got a call from Max. It was a private number. He only said one thing. “Face the fear, and you have a chance to save lives. If you let the fear take over you, there is a chance that the phobia may never leave.” I managed to squeak out, “okay” before he hung up the phone.

16:28 - I walked on the sidewalk until I got to the other side of the convenience store. I waited for the light to turn green and managed to walk three steps before it felt like I was about to die. Sweat started to drip down my face, my hands started to shake, and my stomach felt like it was ripping out of my midsection. Two guys walked up to me and asked me if I was okay, but I just turned around and walked back onto the sidewalk. I heard screaming coming from behind me, and I quickly turned around and saw one of the guys had a pocket knife in his hand. I didn’t want to watch, but it was the strangest thing. The other guy stopped screaming and slowly walked into the knife. It slowly plunged into his chest, and once the knife was all the way in, he just stepped back out and repeatedly walked into the knife. Around the seventh time, he fell to the ground and remained still. The man holding the knife walked across the street with a blank look on his face and kept walking.

19:07 - I don’t know. I just want this to stop. I don’t know what these pills are, but they have to be the thing causing all of this fucked up shit to happen. I’m taking a bath now, it was hard to get in the bath today. Thoughts of my father’s cracked opened skull keep intruding my mind and I feel like I’m close to giving up, but I know I can’t. I’ve gone too far after taking the first pill. I need to figure out why the fuck people are dying whenever I take these pills. I need to figure out who Max really is.

20:48 - I tried driving, but no. I can’t. It started off with me being afraid of crossing the street, but it’s so much more now. I’m scared of being outside. I’m scared of talking to anyone. I don’t want to see anyone else die.

22:51 - Getting sleepy. Going to bed. Hopefully Max will call me tomorrow and I can try to get some more info out of him. Fuck. Everything seems fake now. Even the thought of having to go to work makes me feel sick to my stomach.

07:34 - Woke up a little extra early today. Checked my phone, but there wasn’t any missed calls or messages. I tried eating breakfast, but I accidentally looked out the window and immediately felt sick. Closing all the curtains now, and waiting till this shit passes.

9:24 - It’s been over 24 hours, but I don’t feel any better. I tried looking out the window, but I couldn’t convince myself to open my eyes. I didn’t want to risk seeing anyone. Max called. He was a little less pleasant this time.

Max: ”I’m sure by now you have realized you’re pretty much screwed right? I mean, you could stop taking the pills, but then you would be losing the only tool to save people’s lives. You may be living in fear, but if you stopped being such a little pussy and pushed through the fear, you would be able to do something about it. Instead, you’re just letting people die. If you ran across the street to your neighbor, neither of you would have died. If you just walked with the two men, you could have stopped the man from killing himself.

Me: ”Can’t you just tell me what is going to happen instead? I can’t keep living like this. The fears aren’t even going away. I can’t leave my house, I can’t look outside, and I’m too scared to even look at anyone. Why can’t you just help”

Max: ”I’m going to cut you off right there. What makes you think I want to help? Like I said, I’m just researching. I just thought if you had even a speck of courage inside of you, you would have been able to save a lot of lives already, but it really is entertaining to watch you squirm in pain as you see people dying left and right. Haaaaa. Save ‘em, let ‘em die. It’s all the same to me. Just try to keep your sanity.”

He hung up after that.

Fucking dick.

I still don’t know what the fuck is going on, and I just feel like no one else does either. In the off chance that you possibly know what is going on, please send me a message. I really do need all of the help I can get. I really do appreciate all of the suggestions in the comments on the previous post, and I hope you guys continue to help me.

Max, if you’re reading this. Fuck You.

[samingtonwilson]

Marriage Material - Part 23 - Jim Kirk

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 / Part 22

Summary: in this chapter, you need a chance to explain.

Warnings: language 

A/N: IM BACK AND IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING THIS LONG! i wish this was written a lil better but whatever. should only be like 1 or 2 parts left in this story. i’m thinking 2 because i like ending on 25 more so than 24

You kept your face neutral as you continued to treat the remainder of the red shirts occupying the many emergency beds.

No one was injured too badly— a few gashes here, couple of scrapes there, a bruise or two. The near banality of it all made you think Leonard had no real reason for calling you over. You weren’t on-call and you’d just pulled a double shift that day, he could’ve just as well called another physician.

Had his thinly veiled attempts at pushing you and Jim together not been so obvious and frustrating, you would’ve laughed. Hell, had your heart not lodged itself in your throat the moment you saw him lounging in Leonard’s chair with his feet resting on the desk, you would’ve laughed hard enough to dislocate something.

You didn’t feel like laughing anymore, though— not when your every blink showed you the broken expression he wore, the broken voice he used, the broken posture with which he stood. You just needed a chance to explain! A few minutes, tops, and everything would be better.

Not back to normal, but better than it was now.

Now, it hurt with almost every inhale. Now, it burned with almost every exhale. Now, it was all heartbreak, and misery, and avoidance. And this would be better than that.

The two of you could start over, the two of you could somehow glue the few parts of you that wouldn’t rush to fuse together, the two of you could run through the course of a relationship that was organic and natural. There would be no rules, no material incentives, no preset expiration dates, no obligations governing your feelings for one another— you could finally feel for Jim what you wanted to, not what you instructed yourself to.

But you didn’t get to explain that to him. Not when the nurse on bed four rushed in to retreive you, not when Jim’s firm “Go do your job, Lieutenant” was the only response you received from him.

It wasn’t as if you could blame him for his anger. He had every right to look at you with his eyes set ablaze and his jaw clenched hard enough to possibly crack a tooth. From his point of view, you were reaching into his chest and taking ahold of what little remained, squeezing it between perfectly steady fingers until every bit of emotion, every bit of stability, every bit of sanity was leached out.

It made it difficult for him to even look at you. In his eyes, you’d always been this closed off, imperfect angel that brought enough light into his life to blind him. He’d always seen something with you, something he could never really set his finger on until you sat before him in that absurd planet’s dingy diner sipping a milkshake that tasted more artificial than the ‘platonic’ label you’d given your friendship.

But he was able to set his finger on it then. 

When you cocked a single eyebrow and asked if it stung his ego that you weren’t romantically interested in him, when you giggled to ask if his statement on marrying friends was from personal experience, when you drunkenly shouted loud enough to gain the attention of every diner patron around you just to let him know you would marry him. He was able to set his finger on it right then, he was able to see that you were it for him, you were all he wanted.

Still, it took the brushing of his hair so it took less time, the calling him “my husband” in every fucking language known to man, the sharing of food, the sheer willingness to stay married to him for his sober mind to catch-up to his drunken heart’s decisions and revelations. And it was fear, a fear greater than most he’d known, that inspired his last ditch effort you so quickly agreed to.

He knew it was wrong— he’d known it was wrong from the minute he’d done it. But he thought you’d see his point of view, you’d see his great fear of losing you and his greater capacity for loving you and forgive him.

You treated patients throughout the night thinking he was simmering in anger, but anger was far from what he felt. He was sad, crestfallen, shattered, overwhelmed— but he wasn’t angry.

His expectations were too high, too irrational for someone like you— he knew that the moment he made them, but he foolishly made them anyway. He didn’t blame you for following through the way you should have, the way most in your position would have. He only blamed himself.

He sat in Leonard’s chair unmoving in an almost eerie fashion, his feet flat on the ground but his back slouched in a way which was meant to be relaxing and was anything but. He didn’t make a sound when Leonard entered either, choosing to instead narrow his eyes at the exhausted doctor.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Jim sat up straight then, almost too quickly, and narrowed his eyes further. “I just— I just want to know something.”

Leonard nodded, approaching the replicator in the room’s corner and placing a mug under the machinery. “What?”

“Do you derive some sort of pleasure from meddling like an old bitty?”

A small smirk pulled at Leonard’s lips. “Told you I’d get her to speak to you.”

Jim’s jaw clenched once more. “I didn’t ask you to do that, Bones. I asked you to do the opposite of that.”

“What’d she say?” he asked, ignoring every bit of frustration rolling from Jim’s body as he sat down, steaming mug of coffee in-hand. “She tell you she still love you?”

Jim snorted quietly, dreading the stinging in his eyes. “Something like that.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, looking at Leonard with a wet, sad smile. “Yeah. She told me she can’t be married to me anymore.”

The smile slipped off Leonard’s face. He stared at Jim with confused hazel eyes, lips parted. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m getting divorced.”

“Told the ensign out there the two of you were just fighting,” Leonard mused, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted. His eyes were no longer on Jim, scanning the room. “That all’a this was just temporary. Said no one was gettin’ a divorce.”

“This sham of a marriage made her better at lying.”

“I don’t think— I don’t think all of it was a lie, Jim.”

Jim snorted. “Right.”

“She just said she wants a divorce? Nothing more?”

He frowned. “You want a transcript of the conversation?”

“Dammit, Jim, what else did she say?”

“Nothing,” he replied with a shrug. “Some nurse said a patient was calling for her and I told her she should go.”

“She didn’t explain?”

He shook his head, dragging his palms down the lap of his trousers. “I should leave. Try to— Try to sleep, or something.”

Leonard nodded, watching as Jim drained whatever bourbon remained in his glass from hours before and rose slowly. “I can come with you, leave (Y/N)—” he shook his head. “Leave someone else in charge for the night.”

“I’m good, Bones.”

He didn’t glance at Leonard as he left the room. His steps were quick and determined, eyes narrowed and focused on his boots. He watched his steps carefully, as if nervous he would lose his footing.

“Jim!”

He lost his footing.

His head snapped up quick enough to give himself whiplash. He saw the relief in your smile and couldn’t help the frustrated confusion that pulled his lips into a scowl.

You ignored his expression and handed your PADD to the physician with curly blonde hair who stood before you. “We aren’t done talking.”

“You sure there’s more to say, (Y/N)?”

You tilted your head. “Exam Room 3 is empty.”

“That’s nice—”

“Jim,” you sighed, shaking your head as you approached him. “Five minutes?”

His eyes didn’t waver from yours as he gave you one curt nod. His eyes didn’t waver from your form as you spun around and started in the direction of Exam Room 3. His eyes didn’t waver from you despite the nervous clouding of his vision.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you stood before him in the exam room, your teeth in your bottom lip as he sighed loudly and hopped onto the biobed. You clasped your hands together. “I’m still mad at you.”

He nodded.

“I still don’t think you lie to people you love.”

Another nod.

“I felt trapped— like I didn’t have permission to be angry, or to fight, or to end something when it felt right to end it. I felt like I was being forced to stay in love with you.”

“I didn’t mean for you to—”

“I know you didn’t,” you said with a small smile. “But when you asked me to stay married to you, when you lied to me about why I had to— you should’ve realized I’d eventually feel this way.”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know you weren’t. You’re too smart to have come up with something like this if you were actually thinking.” You took a breath, leaning your side against the counter next to you. You narrowed your eyes at Jim’s seated figure, concentrating on something other than his blue irises. “You couldn’t have told me, though? We’ve been married for months.”

“I wanted to. I was just scared.”

“Should’ve done it anyway,” you replied with a shake of your head. “God, it just feels like so much wasted time and energy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are and it’s—” you took another breath, watching as he wrung his fingers together.

You took a few short steps towards him, lifting yourself onto the biobed so you sat beside him. You knocked your knee against his so his eyes would meet yours again. You offered him another small smile. “It’ll be okay. It was easy to forgive you. I’m just— I’m having a hard time with the forgetting.”

You set your hand on his wrist and pulled his hands apart, taking one into yours and lacing your fingers together. “I meant what I said about not being able to do this backwards nonsense anymore and wanting a divorce.”

“But—”

“I think we should start over,” you continued, watching as his eyebrows came together.

“What?”

You nodded. “Start over, have a relationship that runs a natural course— without feeling obligated to stay with each other, without expiration dates.”

He stared at you without speaking for a few moments, finally asking, “Why?”

“Because you make me happy,” you shrugged. “These last two weeks have just— I’ve been miserable and I shouldn’t be. I should be happy, you should be happy.”

“But I— I fucked up.”

You nodded. “So did I. I waited so long to tell you how I felt about you, I waited so long to let myself have some form of happiness— I was guarding myself and didn’t once think about you.” You shrugged again. “Besides, people make mistakes.”

“Starlight, —”

You sighed out a quiet laugh. “We don’t have to be together if you don’t want—”

“Are you kidding?” he asked loudly, a smile finally pulling at his lips. His lifted his free hand to sit against your throat, his thumb brushing your bottom lip lightly. “I love you, I love you so much.”

You nodded, leaning towards him as he leant towards you. “And I love you.”

His eyes fluttered shut, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that you felt in your every nerve. He pulled away too soon, though, earning a pout. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You wrinkled your nose. “You didn’t let me explain. You used your Captain voice on me and made me leave.”

“You said you wanted a divorce, what was I supposed to do?”

“Hear me out? Not jump to conclusions?”

“You couldn’t have started the sentence differently?”

“You couldn’t have told me the truth from the beginning?”

“Are you going to hold that over my head forever?”

“I told you I’m still angry!” You leant away and took your hand from his, pulling your ring off and placing it in his hand. “Here. It’s not even real gold, you cheap ass—”

“I’m keeping mine.”

“Keep it. Yours is fake, too.”

He grabbed your hand once more, yanking your body towards his. His breath, which was laced with a bit of whiskey, washed over your cheeks as he stared at you with narrowed eyes. “I’m keeping the mattress, too.”

You bared your teeth. “Over my dead body.”

“It’s not like you won’t be sleeping at mine every night anyway.”

You closed the short distance between the two of you to kiss him quickly. “I don’t appreciate the assumption.”

“Don’t pretend it’s not true.”

“It is, I just don’t like the assumption.”

tag list: @feelmyroarrrr @to-pick-ourselves-up-7@star-trekkin-across-theuniverse@webhoard @dirajunara @the-space-goddess-16@whiteandblackkeys @sugarshai@goodnightwife @anyakinamidala @iwillstaywiththemforever @majisean @bbparker@heyjess-marie@kirkaholic123@thepjofanqueen@buckybuckling@da1120 @dudahmautner@purelittleblueberry @insposcollective@our-chaoticwhispers@procrastinace@misbehaving146@thenextdoorangel @equineaddictx @sarkastodon@20th-centu-fairy-girl @arrowswithwifi @king4thesirens @theycallmerian @bakerstgirl @jehun-prouvaire @dwarvenstache@buckypetal15 @boldlywritingtrek @klance-mcclain @curiositywillbethedeathofme @kruemelmonszter-blog @somethingwitty-somethingsweet @pabegay1 @cryswinches

[connectcommunications]

5 top tips when working from home or remotely

For some, working remotely or working from home seemed like a dream too good to ever come true. No more early starts to miss the rush hour, no more hitting the snooze button 2 or 3 times too many and then actually being caught in the rush hour. No more sitting next to the unwashed new guy who still after 2 months hadn’t worked out where your personal space started and ended.

Then the pandemic struck and a huge swathe of the population suddenly found themselves battling with Zoom calls and dodgy internet connections whilst their kids demolished the broadband playing Fortnite instead of home-schooling. The dream of remote working was suddenly real but with it came the realisation that sometimes, being around people in an office, having a routine, having somewhere away from the house is actually quite nice.

Could our telephone answering service help whilst you’re working remotely?

Here at Connect we have a team of virtual receptionists currently working remotely from home where they can and a smaller team that are based in the office. The few staff that we do still have in the office are mainly operational to help ensure that our telephone answering service remains operating at the professional levels our clients expect and rely on, especially our medical and other key worker clients.

We recognise that many businesses may be struggling with their inbound telephone calls whilst working away from the office and so we continue to offer a free trial of up to 30 days of our service.

  5 top tips to follow when working from home or remotely

I’ve worked remotely for Connect Call Answering for the last 10 years or so and, I’ll be honest, I’ve never really given much thought until recent events about the guide and tips I’m about to bestow on you below. Having scoured the internet to compile the tips that follow I can safely say I seriously need to take a spoonful or 2 of my own advice!

  Workspace

Routine

Boundaries

Communicate more

Switch off

1. Workspace

Don’t work from the kitchen table

OK, first and foremost this is one area where I did learn early on that you really do need a good, tidy workspace to get things done, for the sake of your own sanity and also wellbeing. Just as it is in the office, it’s important that you are not only comfortable but also sitting correctly. Find a desk and chair that allow you to keep your posture straight, don’t be sat on your sofa or bed slouched over a laptop.

  Get a room

It really is far easier to stay focussed on work if you have a dedicated desk and or room for you to work from. This, however, may simply not be available for many, we don’t all have an extra room in the house just waiting to be commandeered.

I’m lucky, we had a small dining room that was never used (does anyone actually eat in a dining room these days?) and so that has become my office but my wife had to make space as there was no question of us sharing a room! She took my son’s room, much to his dismay, during the day which meant he had to be up and out by 8:30am. Not ideal but it means she has somewhere where she can shut the door and know that she won’t be disturbed when she’s on an important telephone call- OK, that’s a lie: Somewhere where she won’t be disturbed most of the time.

  Think about what’s behind you

This doesn’t really concern me as I don’t do a lot of video conferencing but my wife does and so it’s important to keep the background acceptable. It doesn’t need to be spotless, everyone knows the situation we are all in, but there shouldn’t be piles of dirty clothes or a poster of your son’s favourite WWE wrestler in the background (it’s Roman Reigns by the way).

2. Routine

Have a wash

Get up, get showered, get dressed and have some breakfast. I’m bad for this, mainly as I start at 5am and move around the house like a stealth Ninja trying to avoid waking anyone up, but rolling out of bed and straight onto your computer is not advisable. It’s important to have a routine in the morning as similar as you would do if you were going into the office.

Try to wake up at the same time as you would normally, does that mean you have a spare hour or so to kill as you’re not needing to commute? Great, prepare your lunch now, do some exercise or take some extra time with the kids but don’t waste the gift of that extra time by lazing about in bed!

  Schedule your work day

What sort of a morning person are you: productive, lethargic, happy or grumpy? Try and schedule your tasks to suit the times of your day when it suits you best. Save more demanding or thoughtful tasks for when your brain works best, if that’s first thing in the morning for you then great for others it might be later in the day once they’ve managed to settle all the mundane tasks in their inbox. If your main job is answering telephone calls, as our virtual receptionists do, then make sure you have got out of bed early enough to wake up properly and make that extra cup of coffee!

  Take a break

This is a common theme and I’ll repeat it later but don’t sacrifice your breaks and lunches just because you are working from home. Stick to your scheduled lunch and get away from your desk, let co-workers know you’re away for lunch if they are likely to try and contact you. If restrictions allow, get out for a walk or go down to the shops. Would you sit at your desk for lunch in the office? Hopefully not but if you did remember this for when you do go back into the office- don’t!

3. Boundaries

Know you place

Or rather make sure everyone knows you place, time and space. Make a point of telling the kids (if they’ll listen) when you’re working and that you really can’t be disturbed unless of course it’s an emergency. Don’t just close the door, actually get a “Do Not Disturb” sign and stick it to your door.

  Give me peace

Personally I work best when I have complete peace and quiet but others find having some background music can help them to concentrate. I did try playing music to try and drown out any noise the kids were making but that failed as the kids hear my music and think that it’s fair game to come and disturb me. “But you were playing music, must be playtime”, no – I’m playing music to remove you from my thoughts! Genuinely I invested in earmuffs so that, along with the closed door and “Do Not Disturb” sign, I have some hope of silence.

4. Communicate more

Out of sight, out of mind

It’s easy to feel forgotten when working remotely and so it’s important to keep up the communication with co-workers and your managers. From both a mental well-being aspect for you but also to show your work that you’re not sitting with your feet up all day watching daytime TV. Make a point of detailing your daily/weekly goals or projects and then on a daily or weekly basis record this, either by email, internal CRM or at least through conversation with your peers.

  Office chat

We are all social animals, if one thing the past year has taught us is that the need for human interaction shouldn’t be taken for granted. Being in the office allows you to chat, catch up on the latest gossip and that’s important for our mental health. Try to make time to chat with co-workers (you might even now realise they could be classed as your friends, well some at least might be) either on the phone, video conferencing or even a Whatsapp group chat.

It’s important to feel part of the team so don’t feel bad that a telephone call that could have taken 5 minutes takes an additional 3 or 4 because you were catching up on a personal level.

5. Switch off

Walk away from the desk!

Far too easily the line between whether we are “at work” or not can blur when working remotely. Just as it is important to stick to scheduled breaks, it’s equally important to switch off when you are finished for the day or week and also to make sure work colleagues know and respect your working hours. Get away from your desk at breaks, lunch and the end of the working day.

  Be harsh

If you find that you are still receiving telephone calls or emails that expect an immediate response outside of your working hours – ignore them, better still, simply switch off your computer. I found, to my detriment, that by giving the impression you are always available, always keen to help that co-workers just assume that means you are contactable 24/7 no matter how small the enquiry.

A few years ago I was on my annual holiday with the family in Turkey, I’d forgotten to take the divert off my phone and so I found myself taking calls by the poolside from the office trying to pick my brains about a problem they were having 2,000 miles away. It was my own fault as, up until then, I really was always available, even when I wasn’t scheduled to be working and that was all because I was working from home and didn’t ever really switch off.

When will things return to normal?

Hopefully the restrictions that we are all living under won’t last too much longer, however I don’t expect things will ever return to how they were before. There has been a fundamental shift in how a lot of us work and for some that means the prospect that remote working may become the new norm with time in the office reduced to a handful of days a month or perhaps less.

So with the prospect of more remote working becoming the long-term norm remember to continue to communicate with colleagues as if you were in the office, get up and get dressed as if you were in the office and start, finish and physically leave work as if you were in the office.

Page Last Updated: January 13th, 2021

from Telephone Answering Service | UK Phone Call Professionals https://www.connect-communications.co.uk/blog/5-top-tips-when-working-from-home-or-remotely/ via https://www.connect-communications.co.uk

[onlyherefortheshowmances]

TW: Mental Health

I have a lot of mental health issues. My main diagnosis is Bipolar (type II). I also have CPTSD (stemming from physical and mental abuse for the first 6 years of my life at the hands of my biological father and continued emotional abuse/manipulation by my mother afterwards). I also have Borderline Personality Disorder which is a trauma-response related disorder that basically means it’s more difficult for me to regulate my emotions than most people. I’m prone to meltdowns when angry or upset. I also have panic disorder, social anxiety, and generalized anxiety disorder. It took a lot of years to finally figure out what is wrong with me, but even knowing what’s wrong doesn’t mean there’re answers. Sure, I’m on meds, but they don’t really work. I see a therapist, but it doesn’t really help. Everything just furthers my abilities to hide my emotions entirely. To never say what I’m actually thinking. To never be allowed to exist in my true state.

 I’m also physically disabled, but no one will believe just how much pain I’m in. I’ve gotten good at hiding that because what’s the bother if no one will believe me anyway. I’ve been in pain since I was 14 (2005). My freshman year of high school. Everything has gotten progressively worse to the point where walking more than a couple blocks is next to impossible. I used to be able to walk miles and miles with no problem, but that’s just not possible any more. A flight of stairs does me in, too.

 In my early 20s a doctor finally listened enough to x-ray my knee, but the x-ray was normal, so they just gave me prescription strength naproxen (Aleve) and sent me on my way. Three years ago (2017), my knee was acting up and my family doctor finally gave me a referral to sports medicine. They took xrays and were able to see osteoarthritis in my joint this time. They had me do physical therapy which just gave me more pain and more reason/ability to pretend there wasn’t any. They also gave me a cortisone injection.

 2 years ago (2018), I tore something in my right shoulder. It took an excruciating 2 months of physical therapy before I even got to see orthopedics. The first orthopedic doctor I saw, basically shrugged me off. He did a cortisone injection in my shoulder which made it worse. I requested a second opinion and finally found a doctor that would order imaging of the shoulder even though the physical therapist put in her notes that it should be MRI’d because of the symptomology following therapy. I had surgery in December for a tare that happened in June. I suffered through 9 months (including the 3 months of recovery after surgery) for something that could have been over in half that time if doctors would have just listened when I went to urgent care the day it happened. At my surgery follow up the doctor remarked that the inside of my shoulder looks like I’m at least in my 70s and that my rotator cuff is also slightly torn and will likely eventually need repaired.

 It wasn’t until this year (2020); literally 15 years after the pain started, that I found a single doctor that would take me seriously. He finally ran blood work beyond the regular stuff and I’ve since been diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, but because the x-rays of my hands and feet look normal, it’s not “aggressive” and I’m just on meds. I still don’t have pain meds or muscle relaxers even though that’s all I want. I’m still not disabled enough.

 The medical care I require is not cheap. Especially not when the insurance my employer offers has $60 co-pays for every specialty visit. My prescriptions cost $50+ per month even with insurance. My therapist is $45 per session which I can only afford every 3 or 4 weeks even though I should definitely be going more often. My psychiatrist is $50 per visit and he wants to see me monthly when he changes anything. I have to see rheumatology ($60 per visit) every 6 weeks for conceivably forever. I had to have a special eye exam ($105 total) every year and new classes are $50+ every year because you know my eyesight has to be complete shit on top of everything else, too.

 I also have to live alone; in part because of my mental health condition and in part because I don’t have anywhere else to go. So, I have to pay my bills all on my own, too.

 I’ve had a lot of jobs in my 29 ½ years of life.

 I worked at Wal-mart in High School (2007-2009). I was a cashier first and then worked in the clothing department. I was fired because they refused to accept my doctor’s note absences even though their company policy says they should have. I got unemployment.

 I did odd jobs in college (2009-2012). I was a tour guide for open house once a month which was probably my favorite job. I very briefly worked in the dining hall, but my mental health couldn’t take that for more than a couple weeks. Mostly my grandfather supported me through those three years until I had to leave school. I made it through 3 years of the social work program to realize my mental health wasn’t cut out for that profession. I didn’t have the money for 3 more years to get a different degree, so I left. Always with the intention that I’d go back some day, but I’ve never actually made it and now with the state of me, probably never will.

 I worked at the Amazon Warehouse for the grand amount of 2 weeks after I left school (June 2012). I had a panic attack trying to do high levels on the order picker and didn’t have a psychiatrist to write an accommodation letter at the time, so I had no choice but to leave.

 I then worked at Target (but for Radio Shack) selling contract cell phones (July 2012-. I enjoyed that job well enough, but it became physically taxing (standing for umpteen hours on end). It was that job that got me to transfer back to my city from where my grandfather lived. I lived with a roommate for a year. She no longer speaks to me because of a whole laundry list of misunderstandings (mostly my mental health).

 After Target, I worked at CVS as a Pharmacy Tech. I think that was the job I had the longest before my current one. It was that job that lead to my first hospitalization(s) for mental health. When I finally had to leave (for my mental health), I was unemployed and essentially homeless for almost a year and then I had county funding to get a room for another year and lived off food stamps and medical assistance.

 During that time, I met Shawn. He was the saving grace I needed to get out of what I thought would be the darkest time of my life.

I managed to get my anxiety under control enough to get a job again. I was a mail carrier for 7 months (May-December 2016). I lost that job again due to my mental health. I was hypomanic (the upswing of Bipolar II) and made a careless driving decision. I was then unemployed for 4 months (until April 2017). But I was living with Shawn at that time and everything seemed fine.

 I then ended up working in the laundry room at the hospital for a few months (April-July 2017). I ended up needing to quit that job because my physical paid started getting too much to handle and I got tendonitis in my wrist. But during that time Shawn broke off our engagement and I restarted therapy (with my current therapist). We’ve always still been best friends. We’ve still done things together; in fact I moved into the spare bedroom and continued to live there for over a year after.

 I started my next job a week after leaving the hospital. I was a receptionist at a major dental practice (July 2017-March 2018) until their company policies went to shit and I had to find a new job for my own sanity.

 I started my current job on April 9, 2018. I work in Revenue Cycle for a group of dental practices doing mostly insurance billing and claims follow up. I moved into an apartment by myself in September 2018 and live there until August of this year. I recently moved into a new apartment (August 2020).

 The past year has however been a living hell.

 On October 24, 2019, Shawn died. I don’t want to go into details of how, but it wasn’t directly intentional, but he knew there was a risk in his actions that lead to the death.

 It’s been year. Nothing’s gotten better. Everything is still broken. Everything still hurts. I’m only better at pretending. I don’t want to live in this world anymore. Intensive Mental health programs only make things worse (inpatient and intensive outpatient alike) and make me hide even more because I need to get out. I can’t handle it.

 I need to quit my job. For my mental and physical health. I can’t handle it anymore. Especially not working from home like I’ve had to since June because of COVID. I don’t think another job would be any better. Maybe for a couple months, but then the same problems would happen again. I just can’t commit to doing something every single day. Not with my mental or physical health. But I can’t quit because I have bills to pay. I can’t get disability because I’m currently working and you can’t be working or have savings to get disability. You basically have to be homeless or live with someone that supports you completely to get it. So basically, I have no way out and I’m stuck in a perpetual hellscape.