#if anybody wonders why Spiral was called Spiral even though it's set to Blindness... that's why

[mrnnki]

The YouTube copyright system is so fucked, man

[dc41896]

Mixed Signals

Pairing: college!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: One text from your boyfriend nearly wrecks your night

⚠️: Slight suggestive content, mentions of virginity, a very awkward yet hilarious (at least I hope it comes across as that) moment, fluff!

Stomach turning and heart racing, it’s hard to focus on the math problems in front of you with what’s spiraling in your head.

Ever since “My roommate’s out of town, you know what that means😉” flashed across your screen, you’ve been slightly confused and on edge. And your friend’s response after you sent her the screenshot didn’t make you feel any better.

“Not trying to pry, but have you guys....you know... yet?,” she asked over lunch in the courtyard.

“No..why you think that’s what he means?”

“I mean I’m not sure, but I know when my boyfriend sends the winky face it typically means we’re not getting any work done,” she grins to herself before taking a sip of her soda.

You, on the other hand, had lost your appetite and hadn’t found it since.

In your five months of dating you and Chris never really brought up going to that level of your relationship, and you thought he honestly didn’t care. He never pressured you or made any advances that made you feel uncomfortable; instead he just let things flow, which you appreciated. There was a part of you though, that wondered if things would always stay this way and he’d always be so patient.

Apparently you were quickly being shown how they wouldn’t.

Not that you didn’t want to go there. Clearly you weren’t blind to how attractive your boyfriend was with his piercing blue eyes that made you swoon at every glance, and muscular arms and legs making you embarrassingly stumble over your words those times he’d greet you at the door in only his boxers. Paired with his overall personality that kept you entertained from his dorky antics yet intrigued from his intellectual views, you were completely smitten already by the man across from you.

But if you were ready for the next step, you weren’t quite sure yet.

Plus even if you were you wouldn’t even know where to start! You knew what went where, obviously, but what about the other stuff that went with it? And what if you weren’t any good at it? You knew guys talked (even though they claim not to gossip but we all know), and you didn’t want to be that girl getting destroyed in the group chat. Oh God what if something was wrong with you down there?!

“Y/N?...Babe!”

“Huh? Yea?”

“I asked what’d you get for 25? My answer isn’t matching up with what’s in the book.”

“Oh uh I haven’t gotten there yet, I’m still on 12,” you answer now trying to catch up.

“You okay?”

“Yea, why?”

“Well for starters, you’ve been clicking your pen nonstop for a while,” Chris chuckles as you slowly lower your pen. “And you’ve been kinda spacey since you got here. Anything you want to talk about?”

“YES! A LOT ACTUALLY!,” you wanted to scream, but instead you simply shrugged.

“No, I’m fine. Just a little stressed I guess.”

“Why don’t we take a break then?,” he suggests closing his textbook. Watching him stand from his desk with a short stretch and yawn, your skin feels as if it’s been set ablaze wondering what would happen next.

“Is this him making a move?,” you thought as he plopped down on the bed next to you with a loud sigh. Holding his arms out with a childlike smile, a nervous laugh escapes your lips setting your textbook off to the side before wrapping your arms around his middle cuddling close to his body.

“So I’ve uh been thinking...”

And here come the nervous sweats. Please don’t let me stink.

“Mhmm?”

“Maybe we could try some new things?,” he answers, fingertips trailing up and down your spine.

“N-New?,” you swallow. From how hard your heart is pounding against your chest, you’re surprised Chris hasn’t said anything and that you haven’t gone into cardiac arrest.

Then again the night’s still young.

“Yea, but there’s no pressure. If you don’t want to it’s fine.”

“Not that I’m upset or anything, but where’s this coming from?,” you ask. Your hands moving to rest on his pecs helping you sit up.

“Just to change things up you know? What we usually do is fun, but I’ve started wanting different.”

Great, now you’re boring. Wait, are you gonna be boring in bed too? You honestly weren’t that flexible. Maybe you could sneak to the bathroom and stretch?

“Oh, um okay.”

“Hey it’s like I said though, if you don’t want to it’s completely fine,” he reassures sitting up himself and taking your hands in his. His warm thumbs running soothingly along the bumps of your knuckles before bringing them to his lips.

You were still scared, but deep down you felt that you could trust him with all of you, and you wouldn’t want your first time to be with anyone else.

“No, I-I want to,” you smile.

“Great! We can-,”

He can’t finish his sentence before your lips are hurriedly pressed to his and your hands gently frame the sides of his neck letting your thumbs graze along his jawlines.

So far so good Y/N, just don’t think about it.

You’d made out plenty of times before, but compared to you two now, you realized those in the past were more so innocent and playful with your breaks for small chuckles and fingers tracing facial features. Seemingly feeding off your energy, kisses now were hungrier and soon you were straddling his lap feeling something press against your thigh as his fingers dug into your hips.

Okay now that we’re here, do I take my clothes off first or his? Or do I take turns with both? Should I wait on him? Does it really matter?

His mouth moves lower to your neck attacking right above your pulse point, and in turn making it race faster as a hidden moan rolls off your tongue startling your own self.

Hold on, did I even shave my legs? Dangit, I said I would do it tonight when I got back.

You lean back to remove your graphic tee, but Chris holds your hands in place stopping you from moving any further.

“Baby you sure about this?,” he asks slightly out of breath with red and partially swollen lips. “It’s your first time and I don’t want you rushing into anything when you’re not ready.”

“Yea...I think so at least. Plus you were talking about doing something different-,”

“I was talking about going somewhere different for our date night. Supendi’s is nice, but there’s this new arcade for adults that I thought would be fun.”

“But..but you texted saying how your roommate wasn’t home. And the winky face.”

“Yea meaning that when we get done with our work, we can watch the big tv in the living room rather than being stuck in here holding my phone screen.”

“Ohhh...”

You could’ve sworn your heart stopped right there as the blood drained from your face and apparently stopped in your throat from the lodged sensation you get.

Reminder: call your parents when you get the chance to ask if they dropped you on your head as a child, explaining why you’re so dumb now.

“You thought I was saying-?,”

“Yep, I did,” you sigh moving towards the opposite side of the bed pressed against the white as milk wall. Arms wrapped around yourself as you sink further into the mattress, your embarrassment also makes you feel uncomfortably vulnerable and desperately wanting to return to your room so you could cry in the corner of your shower.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“No you’re not,” he states leaning down to kiss your temple before hugging you close, “It’s my fault you thought that. I should’ve been more clear, I’m sorry.”

“If I wasn’t sure, I should’ve just asked rather than assumed though. That would’ve saved a lot of embarrassment and stress.”

A lighthearted chuckle vibrates his chest and forehead rests against your temple distracting you long enough to bring some level of comfort.

“Don’t think I stopped because I don’t want to, believe me I really do. Like I said though, I want you to be sure you’re ready.”

You only nod, giving him a small smile while you bask in the sensation of his cool nose bumping and rubbing against your cheek.

“And you’re not bored, since we haven’t had sex yet?,” you timidly ask finally meeting his eyes.

“Of course not. I’m never bored when I’m with you, and never will be.”

How was he so perfect? Where did this guy come from Build a Boyfriend? Your lips find his, still a bit red from your earlier session, melting away any self doubt or overthinking that remained in your brain successfully bringing the quiet it so desperately needed.

“Thanks for being so patient with me.”

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicana @honeydulcewrites @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged, just let me know🤓!

[feather-dancer]

Tales of Arcadia Fanfic Recommendations - Part 5

Can you believe we’re here again? I certainly can’t, five fanfic recommend lists is getting a bit on the silly side and yet here we are! This one started building within 24 hours of the last one and it seems about the right time to chuck it into the wilds for peeps to enjoy.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here!

General Trollhunters

Falling in the black - Jim had accepted his fate the moment he began pouring out the elixir Merlin made into the bathtub, all that was left now was to go through with it and hope he was doing the right thing.

Night of the CreepSlayerz - Morgana was defeated and the Trollhunter left Arcadia with many of it’s former residents in search of a brand new Heartstone  thus the protection of the town fell to those left behind. It is not quiet though, far from it in fact, for in the fallen Market an evil yet stirs with a siren’s song...

and in the dark i can hear your heartbeat - It’s a long trip to New Jersey and for the only human not the easiest on her feet, still she has Jim with her. Jilaire fluff.

Champion - Angor ponders over what became of the troll he once was after he was forced into servitude by the Pale Lady.

A Mutually Beneficial Relationship - By chance, Angor Rot meets the Trollhunter Tellad-Urr.

General Wizards

A wizards associate - A lovely little tale of how Archie and Douxie possibly met for the first time. You never know what your kindness might produce.

Saudade - There was always gonna be an After when the Order had been temporarily beaten back and the successor to Merlin was forced to flee to keep Nari safe but this was never going to be an easy thing to bear. Follows multiple characters including stop offs with Jim n Co. and Zoe picking up the pieces of suddenly not being in the same town as her centuries long best friend. Does eventually go Zouxie!

Eye of the Hurricane - A lost moment after arriving at Hex tech, Douxie goes to take a breather and is given the chance to chat to Zoe, freshen up and wonder what on earth they’re gonna do now Jim has been captured. Zouxie fluff.

A Bit of Simple Magic - Technically before Wizards but since it has a couple mentions directly from Wizards I’m popping it here. This is shameless Zouxie fluff based on Teny’s artwork and I am HERE for it.

afterimage - An unusual one. A popular take is that certainly Skrael and Bellroc might have been human before becoming what we know them as now and this is a little bit of dabbling with young Bells who is figuring out they don’t appreciate gender nor long hair with the expectations it brings very much.

When You Least Expect - Panic attacks can happen to anybody and if Wizards had anything to say, Douxie has an awful lot of material should one be triggered.

Cantus In Memoriam - Some mercies are gifted like a blessing but to the hands that take it, it's a lie they need more than anything. The Arcane Order has lost, it’s true, but Douxie will take no joy in ending their long vigil.

alight - I may be a tiny bit biased here because there’s a reference to Ghost!AU but you know what screw it the author is great and deserves the love. Jim wants to go back to his second life, the one he thought would have been forever before he was revived into softer flesh but there is no guarantee he will be the same as he was then. Sometimes the possible comforts are worth the leap of faith it will take to get there.

Jim the Baby-Handed - Jim is home again, human and there is no getting around how things have shifted in his absence. Sometimes however, all you need to do is ask.

Stricklake

Strange Treasures - There is an aftermath to everything, even the Eternal Night and one that leaves Barbara wondering how she stands in it and particularly with regards to a certain changeling adrift himself who had once upon a time tried to kill her son.

The Only Constant - If Walter was offered the chance access his human appearance again after the Eternal Night, would he do it for her despite it would literally be walking into the unknown?

Tumblr Drabbles - He loves Barbara, he truly does, but after everything he had done to the final insult of Angor Rot coming for his own life and in turn threatening her in the process perhaps walking away is for the best. A broken heart in exchange for her life. The second one is an entirely different and is almost innocent Strickmar fluff, almost.

Alternate Universe

Another Dark Prince (Working Title) - Fate can be a strange thing sometimes. Gunmar could have escaped the Darklands far sooner but in lacking the army to go forth with his conquest is relegated to the shadows with his son and the changelings minding them whilst seeking the reopening on the Bridge for the third time. Following this thought further, perhaps a fatal accident could have led to the death of Barbara and a five year old Jim swept into the arms of a troll he would kill in another life on a promise to the deceased to keep him safe. Wouldn’t that have been a thing?

Arcane Blight - Another horror fic! There is something rather unsettling going on in Arcadia, one that contains no trolls in the conventional sense but doesn’t stop them being here, and the household the Lakes moved into seems to be treated with fear and distrust. That said there is the chance it’s more the location that’s the issue particularly with a school existing in fear of a certain ginger haired lad...

Mohs Scale - The fantastic Don't Listen to Kafka series got a new update! Sometimes you just want to help out your bestie who is going through very weird changes as his body is slowly becoming less and less human by giving him a pedicure.

Eternal Night - Gunmar was defeated at the Eternal Night but did not die, no he survived blinded and bound in chains by the mercy of the formerly human Trollhunter. Beware, even the presumed subdued still have their teeth.

Amnesia - Jim is in a blue body that cannot be quite right but he doesn’t know why, found half drowned by trolls and taking into their care. Cut off from those who might have known his old life and flung into a new strange one without his memories this boy is in for a ride while he tries to piece back together anything that makes sense.

Hope Dies Last - Nari said they would rip his soul to shreds if they caught him during her rescue from the Order’s stronghold, she spoke a very nearly fatal truth.

Fear of Fears - An AU of an AU in a sense, an alternate take of the fabulous Sunshine series and somewhat darker as the situation that starts far more innocently rapidly spirals out of control when Jim attempts to sneak out for Halloween but even then nobody could have expected the result. Heed the warnings in the tags they’re there for a reason.

Moirai - There is a danger when you take up the Skathe-Hrün that you may gain the attentions of eyes you would much rather did not and in Claire’s case, it is the notice of the assassin Angor Rot.

He lay dreaming - A follow up in a sense to the above, sometimes on rare occasions Angor by choice or not begins to dream.

The Pursuit of Stone; A Chance Meeting - Another part of the highly recommended The Heart of Janus series that has lore threads spread far and wide, a fine example both of why I adore Sam in his chaotic... Samness and another beat in the story of Otto Scaarbach’s rise to Grand Commandant in that even in the most unlikely places you may still find an ally, a future tool to be ultilised.

The OP in the very second of typing this had a sudden realisation that when the author sees this post will no doubt start laughing for. It’s for a good reason tho, promise.

The completely unrelated to this fandom fic

hell calls hell - This Overwatch R76 fic is an absolute bruiser of a read set in an alternate universe of royalty and political intrigue that I started reading blind and... Could not stop. The summary simply is A trained assassin sent to kill an emperor and his son encounters more than he bargained for and while true, does not do justice for the sheer amount of world building bursting from every seam being as much part of the plot as the very fabric the entire thing is soaked in.

[cryptidvoidwritings]

10. July | hurt/comfort

*nudges part three (3) into the void because ho boi did this one get away from me I have been writing and rewriting it forever and now we're coming in three weeks late with Starbucks but it's finally done because I am not reworking it for another week no I am not*

(PS: Part one (1) is here should you wish to read it)

(PPS: Part two (2) is here should you wish to read it)

“Release, ‘Lonz!”

Alonzo vaulted from Macavity’s back. He tumbled to the other end of the alley, pain screaming up his arms as he pushed back to his feet. His paw pads flaked off the burnt skin. Only after the lightning shot past him did Alonzo’s brain acknowledge Tugger had issued the familiar command. Petrichor covered the sharp scent of Macavity’s fire. Macavity scrambled back just before another bolt struck the ground. It blinded Alonzo briefly.

When he could see again, Macavity was gone.

+

“‘Lonz!” Quaxo shouted, hurtling through the dissipating shadows at the mouth of the alley. He stumbled to a stop in front of Alonzo, his paws fluttering over the extent of the throbbing burns on Alonzo's arms but careful not to touch them. “Everlasting, I can’t- We need to get back to- you’re bleeding-”

“Macavity’s. Quaxo, I’m fi-”

“You’re not fine! Tugger! Some help?”

“Not sure... I can...”

“What are you talking abo- ?” Quaxo’s head whipped around. “Fuck.”

He skittered to the Maine Coon, sparks bursting anxiously in his coat, looking helpless in the face of Tugger’s fragile state. He was standing, but only just, and he trembled visibly with the effort. A sizable puddle of blood had collected at his feet. His right arm hung limp at his side. Patches of fur were missing all over his body; what remained was matted with dried blood and dirt. His collar was gone- presumably, Macavity had burned it away.

Alonzo took Quaxo by the shoulders, trying to ground him. “Let’s get him inside.”

Quaxo nodded slowly, ears pinned back. “But what if-”

“Not gonna b-break, kit,” Tugger gasped.

Alonzo reached for his left side, which was generally untouched by lesions or burns. Tugger leaned into him- the patch tom wondered if he realized what he was doing- and met Tugger’s pain-glazed eyes. The inner half of each iris shared Munkustrap’s warm blue; the outer half was bright gold, verging on Macavity’s yellow.

Oh. Alonzo thought distantly. Stunning.

Tugger grinned crookedly; Munkustrap’s grin. “Y’okay, p-pretty face?”

The patch tom blinked rapidly, pulling himself away from the recognition of what he’d apparently missed for nearly two years. It went towards explaining why Tugger kept himself at a distance from most cats and why most cats were okay with that. Alonzo forced himself to stop staring, allowing a tiny smile to curl up the corners of his lips.

“You’re worried about me? I’ll be fine. Munkustrap is going to kill you for proving him right, though.”

“Ah, yeah,” Tugger attempted to laugh but wound up coughing harshly. “Y’r prob’ly right. In my d-defense... wasn’t, y’know. Expecting...”

“I know. Stop talking.”

“Can... do,” the Maine Coon sighed. His eyes slid closed. “S’rry ‘bout this.”

His body pitched forward. Alonzo caught his dead weight, biting back a pained hiss. He lowered the larger cat to the ground and settled Tugger’s head in his lap. He held his breath (and was pretty sure Quaxo did as well) until he felt a soft exhale over the back of his paw.

“Breathing.”

Quaxo’s body drooped in relief. “Can we still move him?”

“Better to have help. Is anybody else coming?”

“No. I... I was talking to Cass but I knew something was wrong and I just-”

“See if his humans are in. He says this one is his.”

The tuxedo sprinted down the alley. Alonzo licked gently at a shallow gouge in Tugger’s side while he waited. He was, selfishly, a bit worried that Tugger’s humans were home: They’d take Tugger to the thing that other cats with families called a vet. Alonzo wasn’t sure he could let Tugger out of his sight.

When Quaxo came racing back out, he was carrying a wet cloth, which he dropped into Alonzo’s lap. “Not home,” he said. “I’ll get help.”

Alonzo nodded- he hoped ‘help’ meant Jenny- and Quaxo disappeared in a puff of sparkles. Alonzo laid the waterlogged linen on Tugger’s injuries and watched it stain red.

“Your fur is going to take ages to grow back,” he murmured, forcing a levity he didn’t feel for the sake of keeping his head straight. He wiped tenderly at the Tugger’s side until he was satisfied that the gashes were clean. “We’re all going to make fun of you.”

Tugger remained still and silent. Alonzo didn’t dare touch his burned skin, so he lapped at the superficial scrapes on the Maine Coon’s chin and face, clearing away bits of singed fur.

“You’d better be okay, you great lout,” he sighed into one delicate ear.

“Alonzo!”

The patch tom jerked up. Quaxo and Munkustrap- who looked a bit disoriented- stood at the mouth of the alley. Munkustrap ran forward and fell to his knees in front of Alonzo and Tugger, ears back and pupils dilated in fear.

“Is he-” Munkustrap choked out.

“He’s alive,” Alonzo said urgently. He touched the silver tabby’s paw, pulling his focus away from the blood-stained cloth. “Is Jenny coming?”

“No, we’re going back. I don’t want anyone else leaving the yard. Quaxo, help get him on my back.”

Alonzo bit back an instinctive hiss as they started to maneuver Tugger out of his lap. Everything in him wanted to stay curled over the Maine Coon, to keep him safe from prying eyes, but the burns on his arms were throbbing in time with his heartbeat. It had gotten cold, anyway, and he always functioned a little worse in the cold. He tracked Tugger’s body until his vision went blurry.

“Alonzo?”

Quaxo’s face was in his. The patch tom blinked. His ears flicked in surprise. He hadn’t heard his brother move. Quaxo was silent, even among cats, but he’d never snuck up on Alonzo before.

“Time to go,” the tuxedo said softly.

“Right.”

Quaxo frowned. Alonzo wondered why.

“You’ve gone loopy.”

Oh. Wait. Had he spoken?

“Yes. Are you cold? You’re shaking.”

He was? Alonzo looked down at his legs. He could hardly feel his paws.

“Munk, he needs Jenny. But I don’t think I can come back if I-”

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

Go?

Quaxo caught Alonzo by the shoulders. The alley unfocused around them and the pavement changed under Alonzo’s feet. For a moment he thought he saw Victoria’s worried face.

Everything went black.

+

“- st have been in shock.”

Alonzo’s ears twitched. Talking? His surroundings were dim and there was a soft blanket under him. Or maybe several- he couldn’t exactly feel the ground. The blankets meant he was in a den. Jenny’s, by the scent of it. It made sense; it was her voice outside.

“It’s pure luck his paws weren’t infected.”

Alonzo wondered who she was talking about. He stretched his arms up lazily. They moved, but with an awkward weight to them that he wasn’t used to. As he brought them down, they fell heavily to the blankets. They were wrapped in bandages. Alonzo frowned in confusion. Jenny was talking about him?

“But he’ll be okay, right?” asked Victoria’s voice.

“Of course he will, dear. With rest and some good meals, he’ll be up and about in no time. He and Tugger both. Now run along. We’re watching them.”

The bit of rag that acted as the door to Jenny’s den moved aside. Alonzo blinked into the light, trying to sit up. Quaxo’s green eyes alighted on him and he stopped in his tracks.

“Well hello there, sleeping beauty,” Quaxo said softly, blinking slowly. “How are you feeling?”

Alonzo blinked back. “Kinda floaty.”

The tuxedo chuckled as he took a seat, curling his tail over Alonzo’s legs. “Jenny gave you the good stuff.”

Right. That’s why Jenny was outside talking about infections- he’d gotten burned while fighting Macavity.

“How long have I been out?” Alonzo asked, licking his dry lips.

“Not that long, dear,” Jenny said quietly, just beyond Quaxo. “It was nearing sunset when you came back yesterday and it’s only just setting again now. You needed the rest. Quaxo, love, get your brother some water while I make tea.”

Alonzo frowned, trying to remember how he’d come to be back at the junkyard. He hadn’t walked- Quaxo had... teleported them? Munkustrap told them to go, hadn’t he? Even though he was with Tugger? Alonzo sat up in a rush that almost gave him vertigo. Quaxo caught him and pushed him back down. He tried to break his brother’s hold, but his limbs weren’t cooperating.

“Tugger- where-?”

Quaxo turned him to the left. “Right here.”

Alonzo slumped against Quaxo’s chest, drinking in the sight. The Rum Tum Tugger looked more like a pile of gauze than a cat. He’d been laid out between Alonzo and Munkustrap. Munkustrap had carefully tucked his brother’s face into his shoulder and his chin was nestled between Tugger’s ears. He was so still that if Alonzo hadn’t been able to see his sides lift with each breath-

The tea kettle whistled. Alonzo dragged himself out of his thought spiral and watched Jenny pour the boiling water into the teapot.

“How is he?” he asked.

“Here, drink,” Quaxo said, holding a half-full cup of water to Alonzo’s lips.

Alonzo obeyed. As soon as the water touched his lips he became aware of his thirst. It was a fight not to gulp it greedily, knowing it would only make him sick. It helped that Quaxo wouldn’t tip the cup enough to let him take more than a sip.

“You cleaned his wounds well,” Jennyanydots said. Her face pinched with worry as she studied the sleeping cats. “He hasn’t woken yet. We only just got Munkustrap to sleep, the poor love. He wanted to stay awake until you were up.”

Alonzo watched Munkustrap and Tugger breathe, ignoring the throbbing reasserting itself in his arms. At least Tugger didn’t seem to be in pain. Quaxo traded places with Jenny, who appeared with a cup of tea that smelled medicated. His face screwed up in distaste and she chuckled.

“I know, but this will help you sleep.”

“I just woke up.”

“You need real sleep, dear. It’ll help the pain.”

Alonzo sighed heavily but he allowed Jenny to help him drink the tea. Whatever she’d put in it hit fast; barely a few minutes later he was yawning. He started to roll over, but the stark white dressings against Tugger’s black fur stopped him. He stared at it for a long minute.

“‘S it okay if I... cuddle?”

Jenny tilted her head quizzically. Quaxo snickered somewhere behind them. Alonzo opened his mouth several times but whatever he’d meant to ask had fled as the medicine muddled his brain. He resorted to motioning vaguely at Tugger.

Jenny bit her bottom lip in amusement but nodded. “Just mind the bandages.”

“Let me help you,” Quaxo said quietly.

Alonzo allowed it, mostly because the medicine was keeping him from moving with his usual precision. Quaxo got him rolled over and he snuggled in beside Tugger’s body. The Maine Coon was warm in spite of everything. Alonzo wrapped his tail over Tugger and Munkustrap’s legs. Quaxo curled up at his head and started grooming soothingly.

“Tell Vic ‘m okay?” Alonzo asked. “And Cass?”

“Of course, dear.”

Alonzo buried his face in Tugger’s mane and let the soothing darkness claim him.

+

Alonzo cracked a sleepy eye open. The den was placid. He lifted his head slightly, trying to determine what had woken him. Munkustrap was still sleeping; Quaxo was gone and Jennyanydots was nowhere to be seen, though she often slept with Jellylorum and Gus Jr. if there were sick cats in her den.

Something jerked stiffly against Alonzo’s body and a pained, breathless mewl broke the silence. Alonzo pushed himself onto his elbow, finally registering that the Rum Tum Tugger was trying to move.

“Tugger?” he whispered.

The one eye Alonzo could see was a slit of gold in the dark, hazy with half-consciousness. With Munkustrap and Alonzo curled around him as they were, Tugger could barely twitch, but it was clear that he didn’t realize it. A gasping trill escaped the large cat as he strained his limbs.

“Tugger, you’re home,” Alonzo murmured.

He leaned down to lick the Maine Coon’s cheek fur; it was damp and salty. How long had Tugger been attempting to move before his efforts had woken Alonzo?

The patch tom purred comfortingly. “You’re okay. You’re in Jenny’s den. Munkustrap is here.”

Tugger’s attempts to get up slackened. He forced his eyes open further and a shaking paw tried to lift from the nest, making it a whole centimeter towards Alonzo. Tugger’s glassy eyes met his and his lips moved but the best he could do was force out a breathy sound that might have been Alonzo’s name. Alonzo took the paw.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, hoping he was guessing correctly, “We’re safe.”

The Maine Coon slowly settled as Alonzo continued to purr comforting nonsense into his ears. He heard a weak but answering rumble and licked Tugger’s cheek again.

“Sleep,” he ordered softly. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Alonzo watched Tugger’s eyes slide shut. Only when Tugger was breathing calmly again did Alonzo lie back down, leaving his arm wrapped over the other cat. As he drifted off once more, the patch tom thought Munkustrap’s blue eyes were watching him, but he was asleep before he could confirm it.

+

When Alonzo next came to awareness, the Rum Tum Tugger was still sleeping soundly under his arm. He couldn’t see if there had been any change to the light outside and wondered idly how long he’d been sleeping. His paws weren’t throbbing quite as much, but he felt the sting when he attempted a careful stretch. At least his limbs weren’t flopping everywhere.

“You of all cats can’t possibly need this much beauty sleep,” Alonzo muttered, nosing into Tugger’s mane.

“Getting familiar?”

Alonzo almost jumped out of his skin as he jolted upright. Quaxo had the audacity to giggle. The patch tom flattened his ears in annoyance and slumped back into the blankets.

“Give me a heart attack,” he grumbled, baring his teeth half-heartedly.

“Sorry,” Quaxo said through his laughter. “It’s cute, though.”

“Oh, shut up. How long have I been out this time?” he asked.

“It’s just gone mid-morning. You slept the night,” the tuxedo said.

“Munkustrap?”

“Went to get breakfast. Should be back any minute. Paws.”

Alonzo obediently allowed Quaxo to unwrap and examine his paws.

“Jenny will be happy to know these look better,” Quaxo murmured as he dabbed them gently. When they were sufficiently cleaned he rubbed a bit of salve into them. “She’s just outside. She’ll probably let you out tonight.”

Alonzo nodded noncommittally as Quaxo rewrapped his paws.

“G‘nna... leave my... 'lustrious company?”

Quaxo and Alonzo spun around. “Tugger?”

The Maine Coon’s voice was husky with discomfort. He wasn’t able to sit properly, but he’d managed to get his head up and his eyes were no longer foggy. “You expectin’ someone else?”

Quaxo stumbled over himself and nearly ran into a wall in his haste to get outside. Tugger coughed a laugh as they listened to him calling for Jenny. A second later the tuxedo came bursting back in with Jennyanydots hot on his heels.

“Thank Bast,” Jenny murmured, bustling to Tugger’s side. “Alonzo, dear, help him up. Gently now. Quaxo, some water?”

Alonzo raised Tugger gently into his lap; he felt Tugger melt into his support and brushed the fur between his shoulders gently. Jenny sliced his bandages open with a delicate claw and removed the bloody gauze. Tugger held still as she worked, pressing his face into Alonzo’s shoulder while Jenny cleaned the gouges. His throat worked but he never made a sound.

“There we are,” Jenny said softly, securing the new gauze.

She stroked her claws through what remained of Tugger’s mane, grooming as much as checking that stray fur wasn’t getting in the burn sores around his neck. It probably said volumes about how he was feeling that his only objection was a shiver. When Jenny finished her inspection, she nuzzled his cheek.

“It’s good to see you awake,” she said with soft intensity.

Tugger smiled weakly. The Gumbie cat looked like she might have wanted to say more, but she stopped herself. She gathered up the pile of bloody gauze and nodded to Quaxo as she took it outside to dispose of. The tuxedo brought over a cup of water.

“Here, you should drink.”

Despite resting on Alonzo, Tugger’s body was trembling with the effort of staying upright. Alonzo held him steady while Quaxo helped him drink. He had just emptied the cup when Munkustrap entered the den, bearing a freshly dead rat. Jenny must have intercepted the silver tabby at the entrance; he didn’t seem totally surprised to see either Alonzo or Tugger up but his eyes were bright- and perhaps a bit wet with unshed tears of relief.

He dropped the rat at Quaxo’s feet and leaned in for a nuzzle with Alonzo. “You’re looking better.”

“Less drugged,” Alonzo agreed.

Munkustrap gingerly took up his place at his brother’s side once again. He pressed their foreheads together. “It’s g-...” he swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “It’s good to see you awake.”

“That’s what Jenny said,” Tugger rasped, closing his eyes and leaning in.

Munkustrap batted him lightly. “Don’t make this weird.”

Tugger laughed and Alonzo couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him. It was a relief to see the large cat animated again, even if he was still obviously tired and aching. He and Munkustrap stayed still for a long minute, breathing each other’s air.

“I didn’t think he would- he didn’t say what he wanted,” Tugger blurted as they parted. “But he got... I dunno, he was... smug when he recognized ‘Lonz and I- ”

“It’s alright,” Munkustrap hushed him. “You scared the Everlasting out of me, but you did well out there.”

“The state of my fur suggests otherwise,” Tugger said dubiously.

“You got back up.”

Tugger flushed, recognizing the echo of his own words as clearly as Alonzo did. He nonetheless looked doubtful about the truth of it. Alonzo absently smoothed an unblemished span of Tugger’s fur.

“Breakfast,” Quaxo interrupted quietly, nudging the skinned rat forward.

The meat was already portioned out and Alonzo found himself somewhat absurdly grateful. On a normal day, a rat would be enough for a single meal; at the moment just thinking about a whole rat made him feel sick. He imagined that Tugger probably felt similarly. When they were finished, Tugger gave a jaw-cracking yawn.

“You should rest,” Munkustrap said immediately. “I’ll get you fresh bedding.”

“Been sleepin’, Straps.”

“Unconsciousness isn’t sleeping,” Quaxo chided. He popped up with a mug of tea. “Here, medicine.”

Tugger groaned. “C’mon,” he whined, “that’s hardly necessary, Sparkles.”

“Humor us. We’ve been worrying about you for two days and you’re still shaking,” Quaxo said sweetly.

The large cat muttered something that was probably unflattering but his paw crept out to take the mug. Alonzo reached instinctively to help him. As though he’d forgotten he’d been resting on Alonzo the whole time, Tugger startled. His blue and gold eyes slowly raised until they met Alonzo’s green.

“Oh, Everlasting, ’m still just lyin’ all over you, aren’t I? Sorry. I’ll move. I just, uh. Might need your help?”

“You don’t need to,” Alonzo said.

“No, it’s fine, you’ll wanna leave and-”

“I don’t.”

Blue and gold eyes blinked once. Twice. Squinted at Alonzo in confusion. “Huh?”

“Drink the tea and relax. I’m staying tonight, anyway.”

“O-oh... kay.”

Alonzo sympathized- he didn’t really know what had possessed him, either. He was just thankful that both Munkustrap and Quaxo were politely doing some completely unnecessary blanket refolding at the other end of the den.

“I don’t want to leave. You don’t need to move. Just... drink, okay?”

“... I still think this is entirely unnecessary,” Tugger grumbled, but he obeyed.

Alonzo steadied Tugger’s paws so he could drink the tea. He licked away a few stray droplets that fell into Tugger’s cheek fur. When Tugger was finished, Quaxo took the mug away. Munkustrap pulled the dirty blankets out of the way to be laundered and replaced them with fresh bedding. The silver tabby then helped Tugger into the remade nest. Tugger attempted to knead it out even though his lethargic motions didn’t do much.

“You’re sure you-” he started, an eyebrow creeping up.

“I’m staying,” Alonzo said firmly.

Munkustrap licked a stripe from the tip of Tugger’s nose up the top of his head. “Get some real sleep.”

“Don’t you have better things to do? A junkyard to keep safe? Cats to watch over?”

“What do you think I’m doing here, git?”

Tugger’s tail lashed in embarrassment, which he tried to hide behind a yawn. He stretched out and then curled up as much as the bandages would allow. Munkustrap chuckled and shook his head affectionately.

“I’m going to give everyone an update. Not going far and I’ll be right back.”

“Tell Bombs she still can’t have my title while you’re out there.”

“‘Title’?”

“She knows what it means.”

Munkustrap ushered Quaxo outside. When they were gone, Alonzo took a fortifying breath. He slowly laid himself along Tugger’s side, giving Tugger plenty of time to object. Tugger declined to do so. Alonzo nuzzled just behind his ear. It flicked against his muzzle but the Maine Coon didn’t make an attempt to move away.

“‘Lonz- are you really saying-”

“I volunteered to come after you,” the patch tom said slowly, “because I wanted to.”

“You never...” Tugger shrugged and turned to face Alonzo, “Well, you never seemed all that interested in talking to me. I could get more outta Quax than you most days.”

“I know,” Alonzo grimaced. “It’s... he’s still expressive even if he’s silent, see. I’m not. I thought it was... safer, I suppose. I didn’t know if I could... uh... keep up. With your fan club and all. It seemed easier to admire from afar and... not try.”

Tugger snorted in amusement. “So everybody’s favorite slinky was yearning after me all along, eh? Wait ‘till I tell Straps. He’ll be so jealous.”

“Braggart,” Alonzo said fondly.

“My achievements are real, though, so y’can’t say I’m lyin’,” Tugger grinned. He yawned again and pressed into Alonzo’s warmth. “Ugh, that stuff hits fast.”

Alonzo dared a quick kiss to the corner of Tugger’s mouth. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk when you’re up again.”

“Gonna hafta do better n’ that,” the Maine Coon said, lips curled softly.

He was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. Alonzo huffed an affectionate sigh. He pressed their lips together lightly, careful to keep it light and almost friendly. There would be time for passion later.

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Three

Marcus smirked as he watched Chris mess with the straw in his drink, “Man, whoever she is has got you messed up bad.”

Chris jerked his head up and frowned in confusion, “huh?”

“You have completely zoned out on me, Bro. What’s going on?”

“Just thinking.”

“So your divorce? What happened?”

“I wasn’t any good for her. It just wasn’t gonna work out.”

“How’d she take it?”

“Not good. I’m surprised she hasn’t put a hit out on me.”

Marcus chuckled, “that woman loves you too much.”

“Loved.”

“Loves. I said what I said.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Do you know she hasn’t dated since your divorce?”

“No. I never bothered to keep up with her.”

“Really?”

“I don’t have the right to. Why keep up with her life if I didn’t have the decency to stay in it?”

“You got a point.”

“So who is the new girl?”

“There is no new girl. Just somebody I’m getting to know.”

“So there is a new girl.”

“No.”

“Chris, we can play with semantics all night but be honest, do you like her?”

“Yes but we’re just friends.”

“For now.”

“She’s still in love with her ex-husband. I’m not in control of my life and neither of us are looking for anything serious.”

“Then what’s the harm in making her your new girl. You both know whats the deal up front.”

“Besides she doesn't want to meet me anyway.”

“You’ve never met?”

“I met her online. I only have a vague idea of what she looks like but we’ve never actually seen each other or spoke to each other.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were into that.”

“I set it up out of boredom but I got lucky with talking to her. She’s really nice.”

“What she do?”

“She’s a Vet. Owns her own clinic and shelter”

“Nice. Is she local?”

“Not sure. I know her business is in the city. Never asked if she lived there or not.”

“Chris, you might know her already.”

“I doubt it besides I think the not knowing her is the best part.”

“No identity, no expectations.”

“Exactly.”

“Well more power to you. Hope you don’t miss out on an amazing woman wanting to be all mysterious and shit.”

“I’m not concerned.”

A: How has your day been?

C: Hectic. My daughter caught the flu so I’m out of commission for the next few days

A: Aww...poor baby. Is this the first time she’s been sick?

C: No so I’m pretty prepared for the theatrics that will be coming my way

A: She’s that kind of kid, huh? Lol

C: Lol regardless of the fact that she’s three, she gets sick and reverts to an infant but I love babying her. Just don’t tell her that

A: Lol, your secret is safe with me

C: How have you been?

A: Good. Finalizing details for this gala a certain someone got me to attend

C: Lol, you made the deal, I just accepted

A: Yea. Whatever.

C: Did you decide on a date for our virtual outing?

A: I mean you have the child

C: It’s not like I’m gonna be leaving my house though

A: That is true

C: Are you nervous?

A: No, it’s not like you’re gonna hear my voice or see me. What’s there to be nervous about?

C: I don’t know I’m asking you

A: Are you free this weekend?

C: 8 pm Saturday?

A: Works for me

C: Cool

A: You know you could’ve just picked a time and told me

C: Yea but it was your idea so your choice

A: Hmm...I guess

C: What you thinking about?

A: If I should send you a sneak peek of my dress

C: You have it already? I thought the gala wasn’t for another month

A: A month goes by fast especially if you own your own business, time is not of the essence

C: Ah, very true. Are we still doing text to speech or?

A: I have some equipment I can use for voice changes. You?

C: I work at a college, I’m sure I can find some

A: Cool

C: Is your voice that distinctive that I’d be able to figure out who you are from hearing it?

A: Yes.

C: Ah, now I’m curious

A: It’s not that I’m worried about knowing you but I’ve been interviewed and stuff before so hearing my voice would definitely be a dead giveaway and ruin the mystery

C: I understand. 

A: Does any of this make you uncomfortable?

C: No. It keeps things simple and uncomplicated. No complaints from me

A: Cool

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robyn quickly composed herself as she posed for the picture in front of her phone. The self-timer clicked and she grabbed the device to see her handy work. She smiled at the successful shot. No identifying marks but it captured her body and clothing perfectly. She sat down and logged into her dating app to send the picture to Chris. Not wanting to be consumed with nervousness, she logged out completely before taking off her clothes and heading to take a shower. Their double blind virtual outing was tonight.

Chris smiled as his phone pinged and he clicked on the new message. The long-sleeve navy blue dress hugged every curve of Anna perfectly. She was completely covered but it still felt just as sexy as if she was naked. That was an art. The message read, “I probably could’ve waited a few weeks to send you this but I figured what the hell. What do you think?”

Chris rubbed his hand along his chin then through his hair as he stared at the picture. Was he making a mistake letting this stay just an online thing? Could she really be as amazing as she seemed? Maybe it was just the lust talking. He had sworn off women the past few years so it wasn’t like he had many outlets for any kind of attraction. Anesa was with his sister and cousins for the night while he had his virtual outing with Anna. He really didn’t understand why she just didn’t call it a date but then again they aren’t supposed to be dating so it makes sense.

Robyn shook off any nervousness as she sat down in front of her computer. It was easier to not be tempted to use the camera if she didn’t have one so she decided to use her desktop instead of her laptop. The older monitor was wired for sound but not video. She had emailed Chris a link to the video chat site with its autoset to start at 8pm. She glanced at the cover of the screen and sighed as the clock flipped from 7:59 to 8:00.

“Hi Anna,” an auto generated voice came through her speakers

“Chris, it’s nice to hear your voice.”

Chris laughed, “well something like my voice. How are you?”

“I’m great. You?”

“I’m good. Thank you for the picture.”

“Eh, I was trying it on and thought why not. You never answered my message”

“Well, I knew I was gonna talk to you soon so I figured it’d be easier to say what I was thinking than writing it”

“Ah, so what do you think?”

“I think you look incredible. It’s hard to be sexy and completely covered from neck to toe but you definitely pulled it off.”

“Why thank you. My friend was a little upset that I picked that dress.”

“Why?”

“She thinks I need to show more skin.”

Chris laughed, “well you’re single, no harm in doing that.”

“Single and not trying to mingle though.”

“If you look as amazing in the face as your body does. Nothing short of staying home would keep people, men especially, from trying to talk to you.”

“Oh don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Still don’t say it.”

“You’re afraid of dating?”

“No, just not prepared for it. I don’t really want to like anybody else.”

“Not even me.”

“You are a very pleasant and partially unwanted surprise. I don’t think I could not not like you though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment”

“Good because I meant it as one,” Robyn laughed, “Feel weird yet?”

“Nope. This is a lot easier than typing though.”

“It is. 

“So how was your day?”

“It was good. I had the start of auditions for my upper level songwriting and music composition classes.”

“Really? How do those work?”

“The student either performs live or brings in a recorded piece that they wrote and/or composed.”

“Do they have to be the performer?”

“It is preferable but no. I get my share of duos from time to time.”

“Is it easier to audition as a duo or solo?”

“To me, neither. I try to be equally as hard on all my students.”

“Did you work in the music industry before?”

“Actually no, just a dream deferred, I guess.”

“What about your divorce made you switch careers?”

“Music has always been healing for me. I had no desire to be famous or anything like that but I wanted to deal with music. Teaching did that for me.”

“Were you healing from your marriage?”

“No. My mother had passed away and it just threw my life into a spiral.”

“Were you close?”

“Not like we should’ve been. I was raised by another family member and my mom wasn’t really around most of my life.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s life. You learn to make the best of it.”

“It doesn’t sound like you did.”

“To be honest, I didn’t at first. I was mad at everything and everybody. I just gave up.”

“And your marriage was a casualty of that.”

“Yup.”

“And you still love her?”

“I don’t want to but I do.”

“I know that feeling. So you were adopted by the family member or they just took you in?”

“Just took me in, nothing official.”

“Oh ok.”

“You have a good relationship with your family?”

“Yea, I think we still sit on different sides of the fence when it comes to my ex but other than that nothing major.”

“Why?”

“They loved him. He was my high school sweetheart so we kind of grew up together.”

“Same here. Do they want you guys to get back together?”

“Absolutely.”

Chris laughed.

“Sometimes I wonder if there were things he told them that he couldn’t tell me.”

“It’s possible. It's easier to open up to somebody you don’t feel responsible for. Men worry a lot about looking weak in front of their spouses. We wonder if women will still trust our judgment if they think we’re more emotional than logical.”

“Any woman worth her medal knows men are more emotional than logical, y’all just like to play with semantics. Just because you don’t deal with your emotions doesn’t mean they don’t exist or magically go away. Y’all just have different methodologies than we do.”

“Were you a therapist in a past life?”

Robyn laughed, “No, I took basic psychology classes in college.”

“Definitely sounds like you took more than the requisite elective.”

“I did. Almost had enough for a minor but I overloaded on vet classes to try to finish my bachelor’s early.”

“Did you?”

“Just a semester early, nothing too major.”

“That’s awesome. Were you always a vet?”

“Actually no. I took a few years off after veterinary school, did a bunch of odd jobs before I came back to my chosen profession.”

“Ah, good deal.”

“It had its perks.”

“How’d your husband feel about that?”

“We weren’t married initially but he didn’t seem to mind even after we did get married. He had a bit of an old school rearing and liked being a provider, I can admit.”

“And all that time you never had children?”

“I don’t think he could’ve emotionally handled children but then again, we might have fought for our marriage more if there were some involved.”

“You think so?”

“We both grew up in separated families, raised by a single parent or guardian. Two parent households weren’t the norm for either of us.”

“Ah ok.”

“We had always maintained the idea of having children once we got married but then we got married and things just didn’t work out. I wanted to try immediately after the ceremony but he kept stalling. First, it was getting his career off the ground then the timing just wasn’t right and by then we were divorced. I don’t think he wanted children with me.”

“You know being a parent isn’t something to take lightly, from what it sounds like it wasn’t you, he just wasn’t ready. At least, he was self aware to know that.”

“And your wife?”

“After the first year, we barely had sex.”

“Were you not attracted to her anymore?”

“I was. I just didn’t really like myself anymore and it made it hard to be physical with her. We had years of having sex and making love. I wasn’t the same so it didn’t feel the same, I felt like I was shortchanging her.”

“Sounds like you made a lot of decisions for her.”

“I know she would’ve stayed if I didn’t leave but I also knew she wasn’t happy. I couldn’t say I love her and subject her to an unhappy marriage, it’s not fair.”

“Why didn’t you just get help?”

“I did that’s what led me to ask for a divorce.”

“Your help told you to get divorced?”

“Not explicitly. My therapist told me that I needed to take time to focus on myself with no distractions. My mother had died, My father showed back up in my life. It just felt like everything was falling apart and then I had my wife. Trying to be supportive but completely unhappy and walking on eggshells. It felt like I was torturing her and I didn’t want us to live like that. I didn’t want her to live like that. When I tried to explain what was going on, it just made everything worse.”

“What you mean?”

“I broke her. In such a short marriage, I broke her and I didn’t know how to undo what I had done. I also wasn’t in the space to undo it. I just wanted to die and I didn’t want her to see that.”

‘Did you try to-”

“It was a week after she had moved out. Complete nervous breakdown.”

“Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was bound to happen. The mind can only take so much before it has to reset itself.”

“Did you tell her?”

“No. I made my family promise not to say anything to anyone either. I made her leave for that exact reason. Sometimes you can just feel when you’ve reached your breaking point.”

“True. So she had no idea?”

“No. If she had, she probably would’ve came back and never went through with the divorce. I didn't want her spending her life fixing my mess, that’s my job.”

“Wow. I appreciate you telling me this.”

“I’m surprised I did. Had this been a year or two ago, I probably would’ve stopped talking to you as soon as you asked about her.”

“Really?”

“Yea. Failure sucks.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like you failed. It’s not like all avenues had been exhausted.”

“If your ex-husband had did this, would you be so accommodating?”

“If he had actually told me all this happened with him, absolutely. This is so much different than the silence and moping around that I got.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“I mean I definitely have to get over feeling so betrayed first. Ten years of a relationship and he couldn’t trust me enough to let me in, that’s a hard pill to swallow.”

“Yea but it happens. I imagine my ex-wife would probably feel that exact same way.”

“I might not know you well enough to say this but I really think you should find her and talk to her. The years may have softened her.”

“I don’t think it would be right. I caused her enough issues, the last thing she’d probably want is to be reminded of me.”

“There you go making decisions for her again. You never know until you find out.”

“I guess.”

“Unless you don’t want to find out.”

“What you mean?”

“I think you’re afraid that you really did break her and she never bounced back. I think finding out that she hasn’t moved on scares you more than anything.”

“I-”

“You love her and I don’t think you will ever stop, so you want her to be happy. You want her to have forgotten about you and got everything she ever wanted in life. But if she hasn’t, you’d have to realize that though you did everything to protect her, you made the biggest mistake making her go especially when she didn’t want to. As a woman who’s been there and still there, you didn’t give her a chance to be what you needed because you were so worried about not being what you thought she wanted, even though you never asked.”

Robyn pulled her covers up under her chin as she laid back staring at her ceiling. Talking to Chris, really got her to thinking about her ex-husband. Did something happen to him to make him shut him down? Did he really walk out to save her like he told her? If so, why didn't he trust her to be there for him? At least this Chris is healed but clearly she has a penchant for damaged men. Is she a damaged woman? Did her ex really break her to the point she could never recover?

Chris sat on the phone with Anesa, half listening to her ramble about her day. He was going to go get her from his sister’s house but after talking with Anna, he needed the night to himself, to regroup. He couldn’t say that she was wrong. He never really thought about if his ex-wife was happy or not since he left. At least not out loud. Like what right did he have to shake up her life again after shaking it up in the first place? That’s why he never asked about her. It wasn’t right to be about her life if he made the initiative to walk out of it. Anna really showed him the other side of the situation, it really wasn’t as pretty and hopeful as he thought it would’ve been. He never thought of his divorce as a mistake but did he really ruin something that could’ve been fixed?

[txtdiaries]

Dear No One - One Shot

SUMMARY | All your life, it always felt like something was missing. Every single day, in every action you did and in every place you went, it just always felt off. But maybe, just maybe, you aren’t the only one feeling this way...

PAIRING | Soobin X Reader

CATEGORY | soulmate au, distance, sadness, loneliness.

WORD COUNT | 2.6k

WARNINGS | none

SONG REC | Dear No One - Tori Kelly

I like being independent Not so much of an investment No one to tell me what to do

From a young age, you had always been on your own. From childhood to adulthood, it had always been that way. It wasn’t all bad, though, it was just something you got used to over time. It aided your independence, made you work hard and focus on things you needed to work on, and made you stronger. It was easy to get things done without distractions, and while all the other kids on the playground played tag with their crushes, or sat in the grass sharing secret pecks with eachother, you were inside, nosed buried in a book.

Being on your own was simple. No one controlling you, or annoying you with their demands. It was easy.

It was lonely sometimes, of course it was, but it was easy to push the feeling aside when you got older. When the longing feeling started getting easier to recognize, when it got easier to dismiss it.

It got easy to ignore it, but it was never easy to forget it.

I like being by myself Don't gotta entertain anybody else No one to answer to

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Your best friend asks you from the doorway a final time, watching you cross-legged on your bed, texbooks sprawled out in front of you.

“I’m sure.” You say, still highlighting a passage from your literature book.

“But... it’s the winter dance. And I heard Mark’s gonna be there!” She squeals, fixing her shiny lip gloss in her tiny phone screen reflection. It was just a middle school dance, and you could see right through it’s false appeal.

You just shake your head. You knew the feeling all too well. The guilt, the feeling of rejecting boys because as much as you tried, as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t be with them. Because, at the end of the day, it never felt right. They weren’t it. Nothing more to say about it.

“I hope you have a nice time,” You give your friend a small smile, “Slow dance with Mark for me.”

Your best friend gives you a sad look and then she’s off, brightly colored outfit flashing through the doorway. Your gaze lingers on where she just was, and then it drops back down to your work, your heart shattering noiselessly in your chest simultaneously. 

But sometimes, I just want somebody to hold Someone to give me the jacket when its cold Got that young love even when we're old

“What are we doing to celebrate passing the calculus test?” Your best friend of countless years asks you, turning left down her street a bit harshly. She had barely passed her drivers test and was still learning that you were supposed to break before turning. It was a work in progress. The ache in your shoulder from being thrown against the inside of the car door countless times reminded you of that.

“Dunno, we can do whatever,” You answered honestly, “Maybe a movie night-”

“Oh my god, why is Mark in my driveway?” She shrieks excitedly, braking extremely hard before throwing the car in park, stumbling out of the car before you’re even able to catch your breath.

You watch from inside of the car, that familiar feeling growing inside of you all at once. Just when you think it may be gone - it returns - unwelcome and frothing at the mouth.

Their words are muffled, but you don’t need to hear them in order to know what is going on. 

They’re happy. 

They’re all wide smiles and entangled limbs as they pull eachother closer, and for a second you wonder if it’s supposed to be like that. Like loving someone so much you can’t physically stand to be apart from them that much. Like it’d kill to even be an inch apart. You wonder if that’s what it would be like for you.

You watch them kiss from inside the car, and you can physically feel the difference in atmosphere. You watch quietly as your best friend kisses her boyfriend, the one she’s able to confidently call hers after liking since the early age of twelve, before pushing the feeling down relentlessly. 

Without another word you step out of the car and walk past them, muttering a, “I’ll see you at school.” Before you’re gone.

But the thing is - you’ve already been miles away. Even when you were in the car with your best friend, and even when you’re right next to her. Because that’s always what you are. Far far away.

Yeah sometimes, I want someone to grab my hand Pick me up, pull me close, be my man I will love you till the end

“You aren’t going to find a boyfriend by sitting inside and reading romance novels all day,” Your best friend comments, putting the finishing touches on her mascara before fixing her hair in your bedroom mirror, “Just saying.”

You bite back the urge to roll your eyes, and instead lock your gaze on the passage you’re reading.

“You already know how I feel about relationships.” You say quielty, not looking up.

She slings her jacket over her shoulders. Black leather, color matching the short, tight dress she adorns over her thin figure.

“If I’m going to get Mark to take me back, he needs to see that I’m happy without him,” She explains, even though you didn’t ask, “Then he’ll realize what he’s missing.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” You ask, eyes still scanning the lines of the book in your hands.

“Are you seriously trying to give me relationship advice like that, especially when you’ve never even-” You cut her words off.

“I’m just trying to help.” You say, finally snapping your book shut.

Your friend shakes her head at you before grabbing her purse.

“Well, I know what I’m doing. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She says before exiting the room quickly. You hear her car roar to life and pull out of the drive way after a little bit, and the pounding of her music grows more and more muffled as she gets farther away, the sound finally dissappearing after she pulls away from the street.

You take a look at the book in your hands, and the dread claws its’ way up your throat.

Before you know it, you’re using all of the force you can muster to throw the book across the room, feeling your heart snap in two.

Without a second thought, you turn your lamp off and bury yourself under your piles of blankets, shutting your eyes tightly.

Because that’s how it goes. This feeling you’ve grown to resent. What was once an aid in helping you achieve things you needed to, now latched onto you, like an annoying scar or weights attached at the ankles. This was your burden to carry, and no one could help you. Not even yourself. It was your life sentence - a life without love. A life of longing. It was yours, and nobody else’s. You could wish that it didn’t have to be this way, that maybe timing was just wrong, but you knew better. You always knew better. So instead, you did nothing. 

Nothing but lay there, tears streaking down your face silently, as despair resonates in the pit of your stomach, sending you down a dark, spiraling hole, causing you to wonder if you’ll ever be able to surface again. 

So if you're out there I swear to be good to you But I'm done lookin', for my future someone

“College is the time for new beginnings!” Your mother cheers as she watches you pile your belongings into your small, old car on your own. 

You nod at her gently, giving her a gentle smile, “I’ll make sure to call every other day.”

She wipes at her eyes and pulls you in for a tight hug, “Just update me when you can. And don’t live in your dorm room either, make some friends!”

I have friends, you wanted to say, but singular does not count as plural, so you choose to nod at her instead, agreeing to empty promises before her very eyes. 

In a whirlwind of emotion, and a lot of tears, you’re on the road, merging onto the freeway.

The radio plays softly, and the lyrics resonate deeply within your chest. You let out a long sigh and sing along to the lyrics, trying to ignore just how empty the passenger seat next to you looks and feels, almost mocking you silently.

Because what else could you do? All you really had was yourself in these moments, you knew that by now.

You sing along, a single tear falling down your cheek.

“Cause when the time is right You'll be here, but for now Dear no one, this is your love song.”

I don't really like big crowds I tend to shut people out I like my space, yeah

“It’s one party,” Your roommate of two weeks explains, looking down at you pleadingly, “It could be fun?”

You run a hand through your hair and yawn tiredly, “Thank you for the offer but parties and me? We don’t mix.” 

She gives you a sad smile and nods understandingly.

“I have my key so don’t worry about waiting up. Have a good night.”

And then she’s gone. Leaving you alone, with the softness of your music flowing through the small dorm room. 

College will be different, you tell yourself, as if it hasn’t already started yet.

It will be different. It has to be. Or else, what are you going to do?

But I'd love to have a soul mate And God will give him to me someday And I know it'll be worth the wait

Of course you got asked out at first, everyone did. Everyone you talked to did. And some people took up the offers, your roommate especially. She was classified as a social butterfly, and it showed. 

Spending nights in was your thing, and spending nights out was hers. And that was fine. It was fine. Neither of you minded the other, and you had a stable friendship. You just had different habits.

“So who’s your date tonight?” You ask curiously, furiously typing on your laptop to complete the essay that was due the next time you had your literature class. You spot her in the mirror, applying a thick layer of eyeliner, before your eyes find your screen again.

“Some guy who got set up by his friend, “ She chuckles, “It’s a blind date. His friend told me that he needed to see someone or else he’d go crazy. His words, not the date’s.”

You nod at her words, barely listening as you focus on your word structure for the essay. You did think it was nice that the friend was trying to set his friend up at least. You hoped your roommate had fun. After a few more minutes of the two of you exchanging small talk, she slipped her coat on and gave herself one last look in the mirror.

“What’s his name?” You ask, finally saving your essay as you look over at her.

“Huh?”

“The blind date. Don’t you have to know his name to know who he is?”

“Oh right,” She shakes her head, “Soobin. His name’s Soobin.”

So if you're out there I swear to be good to you But I'm done lookin', for my future someone Cause when the time is right

You'll be here, but for now Dear no one, this is your love song

“Worst date of my life.” Your roommate groans into her coffee cup, causing a library worker to glare her way. You grin at her before tilting your head. 

“That bad?”

“No, he wasn’t bad,” She explains, “We were just so different. Which is sad because he was cute. Like, cute, cute.”

You shrug at her, “Oh well, you’ll find a cuter guy who you actually relate too and it’ll be fine.”

She smiles at you and then catches sight of something in the distance. You furrow your brows.

“What, who is it-”

“No one.” She hisses, grabbing your arm to get you to look at her again before she hides her face.

You pull your hand back and try to hide your laughter. Your roommate was very over the top, and she had no problem showing it.

“I need to go look for a book for my lit class, I’ll be back.” You announce, your laughter finally dying down.

“Hurry please, I wanna get outta here.” She answers back, slipping her phone out of her pocket. You nod and dissappear down one of the aisles quickly. 

The shelves are piled high with hundreds of books, and the quietness that engulfs you is calming. 

It is moments like this that you appreciate. No miserable feeling - no lonely feeling. If anything it feels lighter in this moment than you can ever remember it feeling, which is new, but you don’t dare question it.

Sometimes, when it’s not as heavy, you can almost tolerate it. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life. Granted, the distractions you need to keep the emotions down are endless, almost obsessive, but it’s better than the alternative. Being utterly and completely alone.

Because no one wants that. Not even you.

With your newfound peace, and a small grin on your face, you reach up to grab a book from one of the shelves, fingers barely grazing it.

“Oh!” A deep voice let’s out, and suddenly you’re losing your balance and falling to the right.

“I-”

“I’m sorry!” The deep voice apologizes quickly, grabbing your wrist to stable you.

Dear no one No need to be searching, no

“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking.” You say suddenly - and then your words are stolen from your lips, forcefully pulled from your mind.

The boy, now directly in front of you, is still holding onto your wrist, and for a second you think that maybe he’s got something wrong with him or maybe something on him because he’s touching your skin and it is tingling under his touch. And that can’t be normal.

You look down to see nothing but long slender fingers holding onto you and then back up. The boy notices and retracts his hand, covering his face in embarrassment.

“I didn’t see you, I really am sorry.” He says quietly, round glasses reflecting the bright lights above the two of you as soon as he lets his hands drop from his face. His eyes are a dark brown behind the frames, and you look down for a moment.

Your heart is beating in your chest, against your ribcage agonizingly, and you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t know what is happening.

You study the way the boy’s dark hair covers his forehead when you look back up, and his dimples curve into his cheek deeply as he bites his lip nervously. 

And in that moment, somehow, everything clicks.

This boy in front of you, the feeling of his touch still lingering on your skin.

It feels like he’s been like this, facing you for your whole life, and you don’t know how it’s ever been any different.

You blink multiple times in shock, and he’s staring at you like he knows what you both do, like he feels the exact same thing.

“I’m Soobin.” He says briskly, like it’s the only thing he needs to say in the moment, even though you didn’t ask for his name.

“Y/N.” You mutter, staring into his eyes.

He nods softly, knowingly, at your words.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says, and then horror flashes in his eyes as if he’s just heard his confession.

He knows. He definitely knows.

Because soulmates always know. And this isn’t any different.

“It is,” You say before he can overthink it too much, and because your heart is pounding so fast you feel like you need to say something before you combust.

“Finally.”

Dear no one This is your love song

[rileymarie]

Fangs Pt. 3

“What do you think Rowan the Loser is in for?” he says, nudging him in the arm and pointing to the front row of desks where a redhead kid is sitting hunched over a notebook. “Being a NERD?” he laughs, and launches a crumpled up piece of paper at the back of his head. The kid fidgets when it hits him and starts to look up, but stops himself. I get the feeling this happens a lot. “Hey, whatcha doing over there, Rowan Loser? Too good to even look at us?” the blonde bully says, as I’m now calling him in my head.

I look up at the desk, where Mr. Carmichael sits, a book in his hand. I can tell he knows what’s going on - I mean, you’d have to deaf to not to - but he’s the hard ass type who doesn’t believe in interfering with bullies for students - well, the male ones, at least. I wonder what he would think of the bruise on my wrist, if he’d interfere for me. Probably, cause I’m a girl, a little helpless thing that can’t defend herself, while Rowan is supposed to be a man, stand up to the bully, punch him out or something- 

I feel myself grabbing Blonde Bully’s hand just as he’s preparing to launch another piece of paper. 

“Don’t.” I whisper. 

“OW! What’s wrong with you?” he winces.

I don’t answer, because I don’t know. A few weeks ago, I don’t think I would even be bothered to put myself on the line for somebody else, risking my “perfect name” or whatever - but screw it. I’m sick of everybody thinking they can push us around.

I’ve attracted some unwanted attention. Mr. Luis looks up at us over his books, raising an eyebrow at either me or the blonde kid, I can’t tell. Either way, I let him go and Mr. Luis goes back to reading like nothing happened. 

“Freak.” The blonde kid mutters, and gets up and changes seats.

Great. There goes another hit to my popularity, which is rapidly falling since Wednesday.

But that Rowan kid gives me just the briefest passing smiles, which somehow makes me not care so much.

Rowan

I swear I’m just about to get up and punch that punk Tyler Wallace out. Any minute now, ok? Even Mr. Luis expects me to do something about it, god knows he’s not gonna help me out, I’m supposed to do it myself or something according to “Guy Code”. But then - say that I do? Won’t that get me in even bigger trouble than I already am?

It’s not even my fault I’m in here, ok, I’ve been framed! Nick Beal is the one who wanted to cheat off my paper ok? I don’t see him here, nooo because he’s on the Basketball team, big Whoop. What am I, chopped liver? I’m in Newspaper, doesn’t that count for anything? I guess not, because this school is full of a bunch of fascists. 

It’s fine. Detention isn’t all bad. 

Some girl I’ve never even seen before whispered something to Tyler Wallace, and he stopped throwing wads of paper at me. That was pretty cool. Actually - now that I think about it, I have seen her before. Hanging out with Emily and the “rich popular” crowd. That makes me second guess passing her a smile. Maybe she’s just doing it to make fun of me? I don’t know. 

Shut up, Rowan, you’re just paranoid! Maybe she’s just nice. Couldn’t that be possible?

In this school? Not likely.

I turn away, go back to my Trig homework. Somebody’s gotta do it, after all, and there’s not exactly any scholars in my class to copy off of. 

“Screw this.”

I look up to see Tyler Wallace standing up just as the auburn-haired girl that helped me rolls my eyes. Maybe she said something to him he didn’t like. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mr. Luis glares at him over his book.

“Bathroom.” He says.

“Better make it quick.” 

But Tyler’s got his bag around his arm. Probably he’ll just drive off and won’t come back. Guys like him don’t care how many detentions they get. I’m just glad he’s gone when the door slams shut behind him.

“Ugh, I better go make sure he doesn’t take off.” Mr. Luis grumbles, who must have had the same thought as me. He leaves, and there’s a click as he locks the door behind him.

“Is that really necessary?” I hear myself say out loud, turning without really meaning to toward the auburn-haired girl that helped me out. It’s not until I do that the crippling fear of rejection hits me, and I feel myself tensing, gearing up for her to laugh at me, or throw something.

She just smiles softly.

“At least now we can have some peace and quiet.” She says, and goes back to doodling in her notebook.

I smile, nod, ready to let her go back to her charmed, popular life, while I go back to my nerdy, lonely existence, when her drawings catch my eye. “Wow, those are really cool.” 

Again, without really meaning to, just drawn to her like some weirdo, I get out of my seat and sit beside her. For a second, she looks like she’s going to hide her paper and I think I’ve made a grievous error. But instead, she pushes it toward me.

“It’s stupid.” She shrugs, glances out the window.

In the spirals are words written, poetry it looks like, but I can’t make it out without titling it or examining it under a microscope, which would probably weird her out even more than she probably is.

“That’s cool.” I say, and push it back to her so she can keep drawing if she wants.

“I guess.” She says, and it’s quiet for a few moments. I wonder if I should go back to my desk now, but I’ve already moved, it would be weird to go back now. Luckily, she’s the one who breaks the silence. “That kid pick on you a lot?”

I cringe.

“I mean - I don’t mean-”  she frowns. “It’s no big deal.”

“Just embarrassing.” I say, feeling my face grow hot and I know my cheeks must now match the color of my hair. Great.

“I’ve got bullies, too.” She says, and seems to be thinking about something. Then she holds out her arm under the desk, rolls up her sleeve a little. I blink down at the purple bruise on her wrist, almost not sure what I’m seeing for a minute. Then I wince. It looks like it hurts.

“Who the f-” I stop myself from cursing, then realize my mom isn’t here to yell at me, “Fuck did that?” 

She pushes her sleeve down, pushes her wrist back in her lap.

“Nobody. Sorry. I shouldn’t have even shown you. Sometimes it’s just-“

“Easier to talk to strangers?” I finish for her. 

She nods a little. 

“I get that.” I say. 

She looks at me doubtfully, and I feel the need to tell her a secret, since she just showed me one of hers. 

“Everyone’s a stranger when you have no friends… I haven’t had any of those since I moved here.” I shrug.

The look on her face is not exactly one of relief, but understanding at least. 

“I feel like I used to have so many. I was just fooling myself.” She says quietly, almost to herself. 

“Have you told anybody?” I ask lowly.  “Anybody else I mean?”

She shakes her head. “It’s over. He’s not gonna do it again.” She says, like that settles it. Maybe it does. I nod. 

“Good. That’s good…”

She shrugs, like she’s not sure. I don’t know what else to say, but there’s no more time to talk, because the door opens and Mr. Luis shoves Tyler Wallace inside by the backpack.

“Get in there, you little shit.” He mutters. 

Tyler laughs, and stumbles down the isle. I get up and move just before he sits back down next to-

The girl. I still don’t know her name, I realize. I sit down at my desk, try to refocus on my homework while Tyler chuckles and the girl goes back to looking out the window.

Elizabeth

I told him. What was I thinking? To just tell a stranger like that? What if he’s seen us around, what if he knows who my “ex” is?

So what? An angry voice snarls back. Maybe he’ll tell somebody, somebody who matters, like you should.

I push the thought away. Who cares who knows? It’s bad enough I do, and now this random stranger too? No, no one else can know. I’m done with him, done with the whole thing, and my wrist will be fine soon. It hardly even hurts anymore.

But staring at the ugly thing fills me with a shame and a hatred I can’t quite describe. It really can’t heal fast enough.

After detention, I can tell he wants to talk still, to chat and know my name and more of my secrets, and I run out before he has the chance to as soon as the bell rings.

The walk home is lonely, but I’m beginning to like the feeling. I stomp Fall leaves beneath my boot, savoring the crunch, getting lost in my thoughts. A red convertible drives by, honking the horn at me. It’s Emily and Peter, laughing. I flip them the bird, but I don’t know whether they notice or even bother to look behind them to see if I’m still here. 

It’s not until later - too lost in my own thoughts to notice- that I realize I must have taken a wrong turn. Because when I turn onto my street, I realize it’s not a street at all, but an alleyway. What the hell? I turn around and suddenly the street I thought looked so familiar is now foreign to me. My heart sinks in dread.

I’m lost.This was the first time I’ve walked home, and though I was sure I knew where it was, I clearly didn’t. Mom would be so proud.

I wrap my jacket around me, starting to shiver. The Falls here are colder than they were in California. I hate the East Coast, I decide, hate Emily and Peter and the principle and the guy from detention who’s name I don’t know-

There’s someone behind me.

No, not someone. Several. I can hear their footsteps. They’re laughing. Guys. And a girl, maybe.

I feel myself stiffen. The sun is setting, blinding me just before it dips behind the hills.

They won’t talk to me. They’ll pass. They’ll pass, they’ll pass, they’ll pass…

And then they do, laughing and walking ahead of me. It’s a guy and a girl hand in hand. Just a couple. Where’s the third? 

I push the thought away. I have to retract my steps, find my way back home. 

Night has fallen by the time I’m on a street I recognize once again, just a few blocks away from my home. My steps quicken, I hope mom is ok, that she’s not worried. Why didn’t she call me? What if something went wrong, what if something happened to her? I should have called her after school, I should have skipped detention, I should have-

“Mom?!” I call as I burst through the door.

I wait, three, two, one - No response. My heart skips a beat. Why isn’t she answering? 

Time is a loop.

A balloon on a string, always filled with the same questions.

And no one shall know the hour.

And no one shall know the time.

It’s always the same question.

Is this the day you die?

“Mom? Mom?” 

Not in the kitchen, or the living room.

I run up the stairs, a cold fist coiling around my heart, squeezing it dry-

Your heart, I carry your heart, in mine… I carry it with me-

Where do I know that poem from? 

Your blood is singing to me even know, I can feel you, far away, 

humming

Please, no, no, no, not today, no- -

I push open the door to her bedroom.

She’s laying on her side, her eyes closed, looking dead.

“Mom?” I hear myself say, and my voice is hardly above a whisper, 

Too weak to even whimper-

I reach for her, my hands cold as ice, turn her over.

“Mom? Mom?” I shake her.

A sigh of relief… A rush of blood to the brain… 

“Elizabeth?” my mom says, blinking at me in confusion.

“Oh thank god,” I push away a wave of tears, from fear or relief, I’m not sure.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” she says.

“I thought-“ I shake my head, my panic dissipating like a bad dream. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Tags: @mizzyplatinum

[yoosungshoodie]

Begonias | Jumin+V

Begonia — Plant. Begonias are a genus of perennial flowering plants in the family Begoniaceae. Begonias symbolize warnings about future misfortunes and challenges, along with caution from new situations.

GENRE: Angst. CHARACTERS: Jumin Han & Jihyun Kim (V) WARNINGS: Spoilers for the secret ends. WORD COUNT: 2k+

A CONTINUATION OF THIS FIC & A COLLABORATION WITH @juminssi​.

READ @ AO3.

Secrets were always hard to keep.

When Jumin had grabbed him by the collar, things felt as if they were fast-forwarded, everything beforehand a peaceful serenity. Jumin Han was rarely lost himself from composure and control was his hallmark; and the thought felt suddenly sickening when he had glimpsed the bewildered look in his slate gray irises.

He had, somewhere deep down inside, always innately understood he was shutting Jumin out. Shutting everyone out, closing himself from the world in a search for someone that no longer existed, and it had become who he was. Jihyun had told himself that people changed, and he had to change too. Everyone was a victim of time.

However, he was also aware that this was all just a front. He tricked himself into believing whatever he wanted to believe, whispering nothings into his mind during sleepless nights and finding new ways to pretend at the bottom of coffee cups. Yes, he was changing, changing for the better.

Not really, though.

Jihyun felt his body withering under Jumin’s grasp, and a sudden sickness found a home in his stomach. There was a gracefulness to Jumin that had always made him intimidating, but for once it had been the lack of it that frightened him; he didn’t know what kind of species this was. If Jihyun didn’t know better, he would’ve thought Jumin was simply dormant until then.

He wished it hadn’t come to this. He wanted this to end. He wanted to save everyone. He wanted so many things, and they were all so vastly out of his reach with all the unpleasurable things within his grasp instead. There wasn’t a need to try and look at Jumin with the little vision he had to see the hurt in them.

The calmness that emanated from Jumin when he had finally let him go was deathly, and the words that came after left an uneasy feeling amongst the two. “I’ll get you treated. I know a doctor. I’ll give him a call.”

All the veins in his body seemed tangled and constricted. Time had slowed, and then picked up again. The world shifted and spun. There was a quiet that spoke for the two of them as Jihyun found the words to speak, but he hardly said anything at all.

“Jumin… I’m very sorry. For whatever it’s worth, I hope you understand.” He couldn’t give Jumin an honest answer, and he felt the burn in his throat when he said it. Acidic secrecy lined his mouth and made him incapable of saying much more. He wished things weren’t so complicated.

“I do. And that’s what I’ve been always doing for you, Jihyun.”

“One day, maybe I’ll be able to explain.” His tone was colorless. Jumin had long since let him go, but he could still feel as if his hands were crumpling his collar even after he left.

Since the last time he had gotten into an argument with her, his right eye had refused to see much. His left eye began its steady decay as well; he understood what was happening. Yet, even when he did, he wanted to make it apart of him. If it was placed by her, he didn’t want it gone. The attachment he had discovered with his newfound state left him with discomfort gnawing at his chest for reasons he knew well at first. It wasn’t right, but he didn’t want her to disappear from him. He wanted to remember that she was real.

He wanted to remember that they were real.

His chest felt odd without her, with the white balance set wrong and the aperture too long and the lenses out of focus. All he had wanted to do was to save everyone without hurting anyone, but it was a pipe dream floating straight out of his grasp. Jihyun decided he needed to go somewhere after Jumin’s confrontation. It didn’t matter where.

It was a cloudy afternoon when he saw Jumin again, but things hadn’t changed much. Silence occupied the room and it engulfed it whole, even if the room seemed unfit of holding it; the faint scent of an earthly breeze enclosed the room and the bright canvases that lined the wall refused to give way to it. Although, to Jumin, it always smelled like an old library.

He began hesitantly, and Jumin had never been the type to walk on eggshells. “So, I’ve already spoken to the doctor and—”

“Jumin.”

The tone of Jihyun’s voice seemed immensely small in the huge expanse of the apartment. He stared at Jumin, with the diminished sight he had. Jumin didn’t say anything. Deep down inside, he felt like Jumin already knew.

“I’m almost completely blind. I don’t… think there would a point. In going to that doctor, I mean.” And as the words were spoken, something unraveled, put itself together, and splintered violently inside of Jumin. Jihyun didn’t need his full sight to see it; he could see it even with a fraction of his vision.

“ There’s no point ?” Jumin balled his fists. “No point? I’ve been patient, Jihyun. I’ve been far too patient, and you want to tell me there’s no point in getting you help you clearly need?”

He could feel the shards of Jumin’s explosion embedded in him. “I didn’t ask about what you were up to, I didn’t because I respect your privacy after years of friendship. But you’re asking for too much now. You didn’t want to tell me anything then, and now you don’t want me to help you? How selfish can you be?”

“I’m sorry. I hope… I hope you underst—”

“ What? What is there to understand, when you haven’t told me anything?” His voice rose dangerously, in ferocity and volume and loud enough to where Jihyun could hear the shakiness of his friend’s breaths. “That’s the same thing you said to me last time. What have you done, Jihyun? What horrible thing could you have done to hide from even me? Tell me.”

He was asking too many questions at once. Jihyun could feel himself tearing from each limb, trying to extinguish the anguish that violently tried to overthrow him. Heartache ran through him the same way bullets did; he wondered if in another world he died by them. All he could offer was a weak smile.

A hand pressed against a counter. Jihyun stopped breathing. He could feel the anxiety that replaced his chest after the heartache. This version of Jumin was foreign and venomous.

“I don’t know what I can tell you. There isn’t much to say.” This was the furthest from the truth. Silence filled the room yet again. Jumin’s anger refused to dissipate.

“Do you think that fucking low of me?” Jumin hardly swore (he liked to believe that swearing wasn’t needed to convey his anger) yet this sounded all the more sharp, all the more painful. “I’ve been your friend for a long time, Jihyun. You should already know that I’ll always stand by you, I’ll never leave you. And yet , you still insist on hiding things from me. I hardly asked questions until now, but you can’t expect me to keep quiet when you’ve become blind without any explanation, your home is a completely pigsty—this is not okay. This is the furthest thing from “okay”. This is beyond just you mourning Rika’s death, I need to know what happened.”

His voice rose viciously, and his hand moved to slam whatever papers were placed next to him across the marble island table.

The room iced over.

Map printouts, photos of a building, and what seemed like an endless stream of papers flew across the table. Jihyun didn’t move. The writing on the paper’s seemed that of a madman’s, a spiral of thoughts and jotted ideas and obsessive circling. Jumin’s eyes scanned over all the papers frantically.

“You’re… she’s…” The words were spoken in an exhale. There wasn’t hiding it anymore, not when all the evidence was presented before him; and this was only a fraction of the work he had compiled. Slender digits moved over the papers quickly; it didn’t take much to realize what they were.

Jihyun felt a sweltering in his chest and made him incapable of speaking. A coldness fell over the nape of his neck, and Jumin was unraveling right before him. “She’s alive?”

The words were a low hiss, his tone shredded against granite and scratched against sandpaper. Jihyun didn’t say anything. Jumin shoved all the papers from the table, a roar of a shout echoing throughout the apartment.

Slowly, Jumin repeated himself again, but his volume had increased by double. Poison seeped through every syllable, anger laced between words. “ She’s been alive ? This… this whole goddamn time?”

Jihyun couldn’t look at him. He had been looking down, hands pressed to his sides, quietly standing. He was there and then he wasn’t; Jihyun was good at minimizing his presence as much as he was expanding it, when needed. He took up less space than other people when he shrunk himself.

He could hardly speak. Guilt amplified Jumin’s voice by tenfold. It had taken him moments to register what had just occurred, and minutes to understand that this was happening. Jihyun didn’t have minutes, however, because by the time thirty seconds had passed Jumin had spoken again.

“Say something! Anything , for lying to me—lying to everyone—or at least tell the truth. Do you know what would’ve happened if anyone else found out about this? Are you even aware of anybody else but her?” He felt pathetic for being three steps behind Jumin, while Jihyun was understanding what had just occurred, he was already past and beyond that. Anger warred furiously inside of Jumin while regret ate the other alive.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to tell you all. This is for everyone, to keep them safe. I’m just trying to—”

Jihyun began absentmindedly fixing the sleeve of his shirt; something Jumin remembered he did whenever he was being scolded.

“No. Don’t bullshit me, V.” V , Jihyun mentally noted. It sounded unfamiliar and vague coming from Jumin. “Why do you keep insisting to keep everything to yourself? Do you think we won’t be able to handle this well? Help me understand, V. Help me understand, because I don’t know what kind of angle you’re playing at here. Do you even care about us at all, or are you intent on putting your selfish desires and your absolute need to keep Rika all to yourself first?”

Jumin didn’t need to say the rest for Jihyun to understand. Rika was always fleeting, always slightly out of Jihyun’s reach whenever he was finally able to catch up . Jumin knew this, and now it was a weapon to use against him. But he needed this. He needed to see Jihyun respond to anything at all, even if he knew he had gone too far. A calculated risk.

“ Don’t .” It was the first time Jihyun gave a response, low and venomous enough to match Jumin’s. They didn’t break their gaze from one another. “I didn’t do this because I wanted to hide it or because I was scared. I’m trying to protect everyone. Try to understand, please. This is not for my own purposes. This is for everyo—”

“No, no this is not for everyone. Not for me. You’re holding this-this burden over yourself and you refuse to share it with other people, including me. You’ve been doing this alone, for months, when you shouldn’t be carrying this by yourself. You need help.” And it was by then they had both burnt out, nothing but ash in their chests as they looked at one another interminably. Jumin’s fist ground against one of the papers, as if he could put out any embers that remained inside of him with the motion alone.

They had been yelling in circles, and Jihyun knew Jumin didn’t want any more of it than he did. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. His mind turned, spun, shifted, and stilled as he mulled over what Jumin had said. You’ve been doing this alone, for months, when you shouldn’t be carrying this by yourself. And in truth, Jihyun was tired, but he knew early on that there would be no rest, not if he was going to try and save everyone.

He had dreamt in his sleep sometimes, of times that were good and wonderful that could happen again. Memories that could be recreated and improved upon, made even more beautiful after all the hardships. When he dreamt these things, he felt as if this burden was worth it if it payed off in the end. That, if he endured long enough, it would all be worth it some day. Somewhere deep inside of his heart, some day, they would all be happy again.

But they weren’t there yet. The cold gray of Jumin’ eyes turned and shifted. They geared towards him again, this time with a sharpening clarity that Jihyun knew all too well—Jumin figured something out, and Jihyun was afraid of what he would ask next. His voice cut through the quiet, making it all the more louder.

“Did she do this to you?”

It was more of an accusation than a question.

[ecotone99]

Another’s Life

Another’s Life

I’d say almost everyone has at least one paranormal experience in their lifetime. Even me. One of those times being in the middle of the night at around three A.M. I woke up needing to use the bathroom.

Everything was the usual normal, until I went to wash my hands. Now it may sound ridiculous, like some children’s game; going to the bathroom during the ‘haunting hour’ to see the thousand times described woman. Dressed in a long white nightgown, her dark long hair covering her face. There was something about her though.. She didn’t seem real, or maybe alive? I only saw the side of her as she walked down the hallway, my view of her through the mirror. I screamed silently, my mouth wide open, while I couldn’t make a sound. I stood completely still as if I were frozen. Eventually though, I built the courage to run to my bed like a seven year old avoiding the monsters underneath. I laid there trying to rationalize what I saw. There's got to be an explanation, right!? My thoughts, as long as they raced in my mind, gradually drifted me to sleep.

Waking up the next morning everything seemed fine. I questioned last night.. if it possibly could’ve been a dream? Hazily I got up and got ready for work. Same mundane routine as always… nothing strange about that. That led me to push the concerns I had out of my mind, chalking it up to being unimportant. Everything is fine. The day went by, then a week, two weeks, then over a month. I almost forgot about the strange woman I saw until I saw her again.

I was in my room just reading a book to pass the time when suddenly the room got noticeably darker. The mood of the room changed too, it felt... gloomy. Looking up, confused, I was put face to face with the same woman I saw walking through the hallway. Instinctively I backed up, but instead of questioning the woman in my room we just stared at each other. This went on for several minutes, longer than my fear lasted. It became awkward actually. I put myself to break the silence when just as I thought of what to say she turned and walked out the door. Getting off the bed to follow her I peered out from my door to see her slowly turn the corner going down the stairs. Quickly I went to the overhang just to see... no one. When I got downstairs, I ended up only searching an utterly empty house.

Things like this continued to happen more and more often. It almost became normal seeing the woman roam through my house. Never saying a word. But she didn’t need to, her silence said a thousand things. Some things still scared me, like the doors all simultaneously slamming closed or the windowsill in the living room always covered with dead flies. They seemed to cluster there, but I never saw them anywhere else. As odd as the things were, I lived with it. I could brush off most of the things that happened as normal enough, or entirely coincidental. Though I knew it wasn’t. nothing unusual that happened was meant to be frightening more, I thought, to show a presence. Of course I wasn’t really okay with this other ‘resident’ just being there. So I decided to try and talk to this woman after seeing her a few more times and convincing myself she meant no harm. Before I would take any action like that I wanted to make sure I wasn't crazy. So I got my boyfriend to stay over and see if he would see anything or notice the things I have. Maybe even see the woman in white. Well, he did. Scared him half to death too. We were in my living room one night all the doors locked and the only ones home. We were both falling asleep watching TV. Everything went to static but it wasn’t the strangest thing I’ve seen happen. My boyfriend sat up straighter as I lightly shook him. He stared forward as a silhouette appeared in the static. It slowly became more clear and eventually it was like a black and white aboriginal painting of the woman I've seen so many times. We both watched the static form and disperse as the movie we were watching suddenly began playing again. I’ve mentioned so much of what goes on in my house, to friends, my sister, and my boyfriend who only now believes me. Now I too was certain I wasn't going mad. I honestly don’t know if that was a relief or an added anxiety. I couldn’t help but think “Why me, why couldn’t I have a normal life like everyone else…” Of course I knew that everyone has their own problems but mine were so far from the ordinary, relatable, stressful, problems that had a solution undeniably, even if not an easy one. But here I was, not knowing what I could or should do. I decided to go on with my original plan. Reach out to the woman in white. Ask her what her story is and why she’s here and not where the dead go… wherever that is. All I could do at that moment was go on with my life until I had such an opportunity. About a week had passed when I was in my room again hoping she’d come in to see me again. Out of desperation I called out to her. “ Hello? I don’t know if you're listening but if you are, well I- I want to talk. I’ve seen you a lot lately and I want to know more about you.” I got a chill down my neck, the room got cooler, and my whole body shivered. It felt like somebody was there… really listening. I continued. “I first saw you through the mirror in the bathroom. Then in my room. I-I’ve seen you wandering around my house… are you lost?” A long silence left my words hanging in the air. I waited for several moments almost giving up hope, when I heard a low hum. It was her trying to let me know she was there. I was sure of it.

Well communicating had proved to be more of a challenge than I thought but I was determined to figure something out. Maybe we could use letters so she could spell things out? Or maybe we could start with yes or no questions? Those options sound a lot like a Ouji board. Seems kinda silly I’m not trying to summon anybody, I just want more information. We could use candles. I called out again breaking the longed silence “ Do you think we could communicate through yes and no questions? By the flicker of a candle flame. One flicker would be yes and nothing would be no.” I went to get a candle and brought it back to my room and lit it setting it down on my bedside table. “Let’s try it. Uh-um did you used to live here?” I asked the air, staring intently at the candle, the wax dripping down the side. Its flame flickered! “Yes! Okay another question, Do you know how you died?” The candle flickered again. Now I was gaining some confidence, I was actually getting somewhere “Were you murdered?” I asked softly. The candles flame was still. No. “An unsettling one? Did you die a horrible death?. The flame flickered twice. Yes and yes. An unsettling horrible death but not a murder. What could have happened?

I wanted to just think for a while about what I found out and continue asking more about her later. But I didn't want her thinking I was interrogating her. I spoke out to her again trying to be reassuring “Hey, so I want to know more about you and learn your story. Can I ask you more questions again soon? I watched the candle. It flickered then went out. I followed the smoke with my eyes, watching it whirl around itself. When all the smoke had disappeared I turned and flopped down on my bed. Laying there I watched the ceiling fan spin endlessly and got lost in my thoughts. What kind of death did she go through? A horrible death… and unsettling. Surely unsettling to think about. I want to know her story, but assuming this is all real and it’s all true is a scary idea. Finding out will be heartbreaking.. Am I even ready for this? I fell asleep that night pondering all the possibilities.

The rest of the week went by in a drag and it was odd not seeing the woman in white even once during that time. As strange as it was I didn’t want to push things with her so I waited the week to call out to her again. It was Sunday when I did, “Are you there?’’ I asked. Yet still, I was answered with only silence... ‘’We talked last week... I was wondering if you’d be willing to talk again.” I continued but was still left alone, just as I had been before. I didn’t want to push so I decided to let it go for the night. I left my room and went to make some food. When I was at the stove and the flames flickered and went out randomly, I got the same feeling I did the first time she approached to make contact with me. I don’t know why but I only stared at the no longer burning fire . When the backburner lit up again and the flame danced.. And I jumped. “He- hey I wanted to talk to you and find out your history, and I-I don’t know help you if I can. The lights above me dimmed and brightened then went off and on again. Everything seemed to blur together in the moment and it all was so surreal. If you ever felt like you were in a movie, this would be it.

I found myself on the floor and it seemed like hours had passed. I sat up and a blinding pain pulsed through my body. I forced myself to get up… but once I did I realized I was home… but home was different. I looked around and took notice of every little difference in the house. I was entranced by the family photo on the wall, when just like in every horror movies beginning the entire family came through the door. It was like they’d come through the painting into reality. All I did was stare at them as they walked past and through me. Now I believe that maybe I was in the past. Somehow I was, and without going back in time. I kept watching the family looking at every person's face with an intent to solve a puzzle. When I looked closer at the mother of this family… It hit me. That was the woman in white. Moments suddenly began flashing by, and I felt I knew them closer than I knew myself. I was jumping from memory to memory living through someone else's life at hyper speed. I’d learned so much more than I ever could’ve from yes or no questions. When I made that realization every memory around me swirled and spiraled until it consumed me. Gasping for air I woke up... really woke up, into my body, and into my reality. For a moment everything that happened felt like a dream. Really all of this since the beginning has felt like an unreal dream. Sometimes life is like that. Despite all the insanity I’ve become a part of I would never go back. I lie on the floor reminiscing about all the things I’ve seen. Then it hit me like a gust of wind, blowing away all else but one thing.. What had happened to Abigail, the woman in white. She told me before of an unbearable death, but the truth was worse than death. It was truly unsettling, and the shivers through my body made my bones tense up in remembrance. I’d jumped through the moments of her life but after some point it had become her family’s life… while she watched. Invisible and in the distance. Her death had led to an eternity of emotional suffering, Unable to let go she had to bear every day of her children's lives going by without her in it. She was left in the house all alone standing by her family as a shadow. The truth truly does hurt, The sudden changes that are represented to us in life don't end with death. I’ve learned this painfully through Abigails quiet and long lived tortures. What hurts even more to me now is that my

hopefulness to help her in the end has now become the strawberry fields to slowly dry up and wither away. I can’t change her past, her fate, or her future. It is her who determines what comes next for her. Can she…. Will she…. Let go?

submitted by /u/Cast-Shadow [link] [comments] source https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/g7nkqj/anothers_life/ via Blogger https://ift.tt/3cMRGNX

[daniellewellerfmp]

Ideas for FMP 2

I was all for doing the monk illuminated manuscript idea... except I don’t have any passion for it. Nothing. Even when coming up with ideas to work with characters based in rabbits and demons, which I really want to do, I am unable to feel anything driving me forward. So I began to think; what would keep me passionate?

There’s the story from last year from Susanoo, and while Susanoo is somebody who’s incredibly like me (Passive, patience and a forgetful/unorganized bugger) he isn’t a character I am passionate about. What do I like in a character? I like them to be jerks. I like them to be messed up. I like creating a character and letting the audience decide whether they’re good, sympathetic or completely unforgivable. Which is true to life. I want a protaognist who can be the bad guy.

Brief Description: Two brothers, Daniel and Scott, become orphaned after one released an evil spirit into their household. The guilt inflicts Daniel and he develops an intense fear of abandonment over the years, becoming clingier towards Scott as time goes on and when he is old enough to be given the responsibility of being the town’s executioner he finds ways to rid of anybody who dares takes Scott away from him.

Synposis:

The story is set in medieval times, similar to that of Game of Thrones with supernatural mysterious shrouding the world. It starts off with Daniel Xull as a little boy living on a farm with his mother and father, and his brother Scott Xull. Daniel starts off a cheeky and outgoing lad who likes to collect unique items and relics. He discovers a relic in a Church of his town, and he just can’t resist taking it because of how intriguing it is. He attempts to figure out the puzzle to this relic, and after hours of cracking it; it releases a demon. It’s a deer with dragon like features, skin blazing like hell fire. It knocks Daniel in unconscious, and when he awakes mysteriously outside; he sees that the farm had set ablaze. Scott escaped the burning household with just an inch of his life, but his parents are not as fortunate. They were left orphaned, lonely.

Causing the death of his parents because of his mistake was too much for Daniel to handle. No matter how much he fought against the pain, the intrusive thoughts would keep coming back. The guilt looms over him like a shadow, never leaving and never forgetting. He begins to lose all confidence, and became scared to death of losing the people he loves. He grows clingy towards his brother Scott, who is grieving, angry at the world and the Gods for letting such an unfair act happen. He has no idea what caused the fire, so all he can do is blame the Gods. At first Daniel’s clinginess is harmless, though annoying, but when Scott started to spend more time with his friends, Daniel was always quick to fits of jealousy. He’d plead Scott to stop, even blackmailing him by self-harming. And when that didn’t work, he’d start sabotaging the relationships Scott had. When Daniel was old enough to become the village’s executioner, he pinned crimes on Scott’s closest friends. Families of his friends grew suspicious of Scott due to the amount of friends surrounding him would be blamed for a crime the families swore they didn’t commit. That Scott was purposely getting his friends executed or banished. Gossip of this would go around the village and leading to Scott being severely disliked and keeping him from be able to even go to well for water without being harassed. It wasn’t until one of Scott’s friends who was on the verge of being banished told Scott that she believed that Daniel was the one behind all of this, but Scott couldn’t believe it. However, overtime Scott became paranoid that this was true. ‘Did he do it? Has he been framing everybody I was close to? Is he the reason why nobody will trust me, and avoid me like the plague?!’ Scott’s attitude changed towards Daniel. He would begin to avoid and ignore Daniel on his self-mutilating threats, saying how “you’ve got nothing to hold over me anymore. I have nobody I give a shit about anymore, including you.” This would send Daniel into a spiral of self-loathing and panic. He’s this close to losing Scott. He spoke to the priest Vincent, who he had respected all his life and who had given the job as executioner in the first place. He asked him what to do to mend his relationship with his brother. Vincent told him to confess all his wrong doings to Scott. Everything that hurt him. Daniel does that and confesses to Scott that he did in fact sabotage his life, and was the reason their parents died, though it was an accident. This devastated Scott, and sent him into a fit of hatred and rage towards Daniel. He believed that Daniel killed them on purpose; that he was evil and out to get him. Scott outs Daniel to the village, claiming he’s a monster and he’s been behind all the false banishments and executions. He’s been playing all their lives like a puppeteer. That he was the one who purposely murdered their parents because he was a devil. They dragged Daniel to the town centre, tie him up and proceed to stone Daniel. He’s begs for Scott to forgive him. Claims that he doesn’t care about the village, and what they’ll do to him. He just cares about what his brother thought of him, and his forgiveness. He doesn’t want to lose him, but Scott reacts with contempt for Daniel’s life, telling Daniel that he wished he was dead for quite some time, and he’ll never forgive him. Daniel loses his mind, unable to cope with the revelation. A green glow blooms from Daniel’s chest. Everybody starts to call him a demon, but they were growing scared. Suddenly reanimated bodies of their loved ones emerge from the morgue and graveyard, and they begin to cut down the villagers. It’s a complete blood bath. Daniel doesn’t know what the heck is going on. But by the end of it all, only Scott is alive. Scott is traumatized, backing up into a corner at the other side of the town centre in terror. The dead walk up to Daniel and cut him out of his ropes. Daniel realizes that they’re under his control, meaning he’s a necromancer. He tells them to clear a path for him so he could go to Scott, and so they do that.

He begins to walk over to Scott, reaching his hand out. “Scott...” Scott looks up at him, and whimpers as he begins to crawl away and then proceed to run from them to the Church. Daniel, who is hurt from the stoning, hitches a ride from a rotting dead horse and then proceeds to head towards the church. He searches for Scott inside the Church but instead found the priest Vincent. Vincent tells Daniel that he was waiting for this day. He told him that he knew that Daniel took the relic all those years ago, he wanted him to. He made Daniel an executioner because he knew he’d abuse the power. He knew that one day Daniel would have the village murdered and revive them as part of his army. Daniel asks him how does he know all of this, and why did he want this to happen? Vincent explains that it was because their God told him the future, and that she wanted to use the souls from the village to restore her disfigured face and arise from the Hell she was banished to centuries ago. She wanted Daniel to be her captain in fights; to use the dead and take over the kingdom she had lost before her banishment. Daniel is angry, wondering why they would manipulate him into something so horrible and ruin his family’s life. Vincent explains that there had to be certain conditions met to become a necromancer. There had to be conditions such as the death of loved ones, and the blood of a traitor. Daniel wants to know more, so he follows Vincent, who took him to where Scott is tied up, which is on a sacrificial circle. He hands a knife to Daniel, telling him to kill Scott, which will release their God from Hell. Daniel is left in a panic, asking himself if he should let Scott live even though he hated him, or to let him live in with a relationship full of doubt, and let all this suffering be for nothing. His brother took care of him for so long, and that he’s suffered with his entire life. In the last second he slices Vincent’s throat, letting him die. Daniel releases Scott and then run away.

They return home and are awake during the night, sitting in quiet in front of the fireplace. Daniel swears to Scott that he’ll try to be a better person, and that he was sorry for everything he has done to Scott. That all of this happened because he didn’t want to lose him. Scott says he forgives Daniel, saying how he understands the fire was an accident and he sympathises with Daniel pain. Daniel feels at peace at being forgiven, thinking that they both have a future together after all. He went to sleep, which was the best sleep he’s ever had. The following morning he wakes up to find all of his stuff was gone and that Scott had left’. Daniel goes into a blind panic in trying to find Scott, but to no avail.

[ecotone99]

Another’s Life [SF]

Another’s Life

I’d say almost everyone has at least one paranormal experience in their lifetime. Even me. One of those times being in the middle of the night at around three A.M. I woke up needing to use the bathroom.

Everything was the usual normal, until I went to wash my hands. Now it may sound ridiculous, like some children’s game; going to the bathroom during the ‘haunting hour’ to see the thousand times described woman. Dressed in a long white nightgown, her dark long hair covering her face. There was something about her though.. She didn’t seem real, or maybe alive? I only saw the side of her as she walked down the hallway, my view of her through the mirror. I screamed silently, my mouth wide open, while I couldn’t make a sound. I stood completely still as if I were frozen. Eventually though, I built the courage to run to my bed like a seven year old avoiding the monsters underneath. I laid there trying to rationalize what I saw. There's got to be an explanation, right!? My thoughts, as long as they raced in my mind, gradually drifted me to sleep.

Waking up the next morning everything seemed fine. I questioned last night.. if it possibly could’ve been a dream? Hazily I got up and got ready for work. Same mundane routine as always… nothing strange about that. That led me to push the concerns I had out of my mind, chalking it up to being unimportant. Everything is fine. The day went by, then a week, two weeks, then over a month. I almost forgot about the strange woman I saw until I saw her again.

I was in my room just reading a book to pass the time when suddenly the room got noticeably darker. The mood of the room changed too, it felt... gloomy. Looking up, confused, I was put face to face with the same woman I saw walking through the hallway. Instinctively I backed up, but instead of questioning the woman in my room we just stared at each other. This went on for several minutes, longer than my fear lasted. It became awkward actually. I put myself to break the silence when just as I thought of what to say she turned and walked out the door. Getting off the bed to follow her I peered out from my door to see her slowly turn the corner going down the stairs. Quickly I went to the overhang just to see... no one. When I got downstairs, I ended up only searching an utterly empty house.

Things like this continued to happen more and more often. It almost became normal seeing the woman roam through my house. Never saying a word. But she didn’t need to, her silence said a thousand things. Some things still scared me, like the doors all simultaneously slamming closed or the windowsill in the living room always covered with dead flies. They seemed to cluster there, but I never saw them anywhere else. As odd as the things were, I lived with it. I could brush off most of the things that happened as normal enough, or entirely coincidental. Though I knew it wasn’t. nothing unusual that happened was meant to be frightening more, I thought, to show a presence. Of course I wasn’t really okay with this other ‘resident’ just being there. So I decided to try and talk to this woman after seeing her a few more times and convincing myself she meant no harm. Before I would take any action like that I wanted to make sure I wasn't crazy. So I got my boyfriend to stay over and see if he would see anything or notice the things I have. Maybe even see the woman in white. Well, he did. Scared him half to death too. We were in my living room one night all the doors locked and the only ones home. We were both falling asleep watching TV. Everything went to static but it wasn’t the strangest thing I’ve seen happen. My boyfriend sat up straighter as I lightly shook him. He stared forward as a silhouette appeared in the static. It slowly became more clear and eventually it was like a black and white aboriginal painting of the woman I've seen so many times. We both watched the static form and disperse as the movie we were watching suddenly began playing again. I’ve mentioned so much of what goes on in my house, to friends, my sister, and my boyfriend who only now believes me. Now I too was certain I wasn't going mad. I honestly don’t know if that was a relief or an added anxiety. I couldn’t help but think “Why me, why couldn’t I have a normal life like everyone else…” Of course I knew that everyone has their own problems but mine were so far from the ordinary, relatable, stressful, problems that had a solution undeniably, even if not an easy one. But here I was, not knowing what I could or should do. I decided to go on with my original plan. Reach out to the woman in white. Ask her what her story is and why she’s here and not where the dead go… wherever that is. All I could do at that moment was go on with my life until I had such an opportunity. About a week had passed when I was in my room again hoping she’d come in to see me again. Out of desperation I called out to her. “ Hello? I don’t know if you're listening but if you are, well I- I want to talk. I’ve seen you a lot lately and I want to know more about you.” I got a chill down my neck, the room got cooler, and my whole body shivered. It felt like somebody was there… really listening. I continued. “I first saw you through the mirror in the bathroom. Then in my room. I-I’ve seen you wandering around my house… are you lost?” A long silence left my words hanging in the air. I waited for several moments almost giving up hope, when I heard a low hum. It was her trying to let me know she was there. I was sure of it.

Well communicating had proved to be more of a challenge than I thought but I was determined to figure something out. Maybe we could use letters so she could spell things out? Or maybe we could start with yes or no questions? Those options sound a lot like a Ouji board. Seems kinda silly I’m not trying to summon anybody, I just want more information. We could use candles. I called out again breaking the longed silence “ Do you think we could communicate through yes and no questions? By the flicker of a candle flame. One flicker would be yes and nothing would be no.” I went to get a candle and brought it back to my room and lit it setting it down on my bedside table. “Let’s try it. Uh-um did you used to live here?” I asked the air, staring intently at the candle, the wax dripping down the side. Its flame flickered! “Yes! Okay another question, Do you know how you died?” The candle flickered again. Now I was gaining some confidence, I was actually getting somewhere “Were you murdered?” I asked softly. The candles flame was still. No. “An unsettling one? Did you die a horrible death?. The flame flickered twice. Yes and yes. An unsettling horrible death but not a murder. What could have happened?

I wanted to just think for a while about what I found out and continue asking more about her later. But I didn't want her thinking I was interrogating her. I spoke out to her again trying to be reassuring “Hey, so I want to know more about you and learn your story. Can I ask you more questions again soon? I watched the candle. It flickered then went out. I followed the smoke with my eyes, watching it whirl around itself. When all the smoke had disappeared I turned and flopped down on my bed. Laying there I watched the ceiling fan spin endlessly and got lost in my thoughts. What kind of death did she go through? A horrible death… and unsettling. Surely unsettling to think about. I want to know her story, but assuming this is all real and it’s all true is a scary idea. Finding out will be heartbreaking.. Am I even ready for this? I fell asleep that night pondering all the possibilities.

The rest of the week went by in a drag and it was odd not seeing the woman in white even once during that time. As strange as it was I didn’t want to push things with her so I waited the week to call out to her again. It was Sunday when I did, “Are you there?’’ I asked. Yet still, I was answered with only silence... ‘’We talked last week... I was wondering if you’d be willing to talk again.” I continued but was still left alone, just as I had been before. I didn’t want to push so I decided to let it go for the night. I left my room and went to make some food. When I was at the stove and the flames flickered and went out randomly, I got the same feeling I did the first time she approached to make contact with me. I don’t know why but I only stared at the no longer burning fire . When the backburner lit up again and the flame danced.. And I jumped. “He- hey I wanted to talk to you and find out your history, and I-I don’t know help you if I can. The lights above me dimmed and brightened then went off and on again. Everything seemed to blur together in the moment and it all was so surreal. If you ever felt like you were in a movie, this would be it.

I found myself on the floor and it seemed like hours had passed. I sat up and a blinding pain pulsed through my body. I forced myself to get up… but once I did I realized I was home… but home was different. I looked around and took notice of every little difference in the house. I was entranced by the family photo on the wall, when just like in every horror movies beginning the entire family came through the door. It was like they’d come through the painting into reality. All I did was stare at them as they walked past and through me. Now I believe that maybe I was in the past. Somehow I was, and without going back in time. I kept watching the family looking at every person's face with an intent to solve a puzzle. When I looked closer at the mother of this family… It hit me. That was the woman in white. Moments suddenly began flashing by, and I felt I knew them closer than I knew myself. I was jumping from memory to memory living through someone else's life at hyper speed. I’d learned so much more than I ever could’ve from yes or no questions. When I made that realization every memory around me swirled and spiraled until it consumed me. Gasping for air I woke up... really woke up, into my body, and into my reality. For a moment everything that happened felt like a dream. Really all of this since the beginning has felt like an unreal dream. Sometimes life is like that. Despite all the insanity I’ve become a part of I would never go back. I lie on the floor reminiscing about all the things I’ve seen. Then it hit me like a gust of wind, blowing away all else but one thing.. What had happened to Abigail, the woman in white. She told me before of an unbearable death, but the truth was worse than death. It was truly unsettling, and the shivers through my body made my bones tense up in remembrance. I’d jumped through the moments of her life but after some point it had become her family’s life… while she watched. Invisible and in the distance. Her death had led to an eternity of emotional suffering, Unable to let go she had to bear every day of her children's lives going by without her in it. She was left in the house all alone standing by her family as a shadow. The truth truly does hurt, The sudden changes that are represented to us in life don't end with death. I’ve learned this painfully through Abigails quiet and long lived tortures. What hurts even more to me now is that my

hopefulness to help her in the end has now become the strawberry fields to slowly dry up and wither away. I can’t change her past, her fate, or her future. It is her who determines what comes next for her. Can she…. Will she…. Let go?

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