#when i first started therapy (only for a few months) and was once again trying to make friends with this person

[xoxorealitygalore]

Trust and Believe VI

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

The restaurant’s warm lighting flickered softly across the table, casting gentle shadows on the gleaming silverware. The air was thick with the murmur of distant conversations, the clink of glasses, and the scent of rich food filling the space. It was a scene that should have felt comforting—inviting, even romantic.

But for Keyshia and Joe, sitting across from each other for the first time in months, the ambiance only seemed to amplify the distance between them.

They had agreed to take this step. A date night, an opportunity to reconnect, to move past the wreckage left in the wake of Joe’s infidelity. After a few days of therapy and countless late-night conversations about their relationship, they were here—together again in the same space, attempting to rebuild what had been broken. But beneath the surface, the emotions simmered—complicated, unspoken, unresolved.

Keyshia stirred her glass, the ice cubes clinking together. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the evening. Was this truly a fresh start, or was it just a pause before the inevitable storm of confrontation that had been brewing for months? Her gaze flickered to Joe across the table, his dark eyes hopeful but guarded. He smiled softly, but the warmth in his expression didn’t quite reach her. She could see that he wanted this—wanted her to be happy, to forgive him—but the wall between them felt insurmountable.

“Keyshia,” Joe said, his voice low and tentative. He shifted slightly in his seat, trying to meet her eyes. “I really want tonight to be a good night for us. I know it’s been hard, but I’m trying. I really am.”

The sincerity in his voice stung. It wasn’t that Keyshia didn’t believe him; it was that she couldn’t understand why it had to come to this. Why did they have to go through so much pain to get here? Why had he cheated? The question, the answer—or lack of it—was an anchor, pulling her deeper into the sea of her emotions, making it hard to breathe. Every time she looked at him, all she could see was the betrayal. She could still feel the sharp edge of that memory cutting through her every time she closed her eyes.

“I know you’re trying,” Keyshia said, her voice tight, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. She wanted to say more—wanted to say everything that had been on her mind, everything she’d kept locked inside for months. But the words were tangled, a mess of anger, confusion, and hurt that she didn’t know how to untangle. She looked at Joe again, the man she had once loved so completely, the man who had shattered that love with one careless mistake. “But I don’t get it. I don’t understand why you did it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unresolved. Joe’s expression faltered for a moment, the weight of her question pressing down on him. His hands gripped the edge of the table as if he were bracing himself for what was to come. He had heard this question before in their therapy sessions, had answered it a hundred different ways, but the truth was that he still didn’t have a clear answer. No matter how many times he tried to explain, no matter how many ways he tried to make it make sense, it never did.

“I’ve told you before,” Joe began, his voice shaking with the vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. “It wasn’t about you. It wasn’t because of anything you did, or didn’t do. It wasn’t about us. It was a moment of weakness. A mistake. A stupid, selfish mistake.” He ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of regret and frustration. “I can’t undo it. I wish I could. I wish I could give you the answer you need to make sense of it. But I can’t. All I can do is apologize and hope that’s enough for you to find a way to forgive me.”

Keyshia’s throat tightened. She wanted to believe him—she really did. She wanted to feel the sincerity in his words, to let go of the anger that had kept her from him for so long. But it was hard. Too hard. His explanation, though heartfelt, still felt hollow, like a puzzle with too many missing pieces. She had poured herself into their relationship, given him everything, and yet it wasn’t enough to prevent the betrayal. How could she reconcile that? How could she let go of the hurt when she didn’t understand the reasons behind his actions?

“Joe, I don’t need you to fix it. I need to understand,” Keyshia said, her voice barely above a whisper. The tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back fiercely. “I’ve tried, Joe. I’ve tried to move on. I’ve tried to forgive. But I can’t. Not if I don’t know why. I need to know why you hurt me.”

Joe’s face softened, a look of pain crossing his features. He wanted so desperately to take the hurt away, to fix everything, to put their relationship back together. But he knew that wasn’t possible. Not yet. “I don’t know if there’s a reason,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I don’t know why it happened. I don’t know why I was weak. But I do know that I regret it. I regret it more than you’ll ever know.”

For a moment, there was silence between them—heavy, suffocating silence. Keyshia felt as though the room were closing in on her, as though the very air were pressing against her chest, making it harder to breathe. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the distance between them was growing, not shrinking. The emotional wall that had gone up between them after the affair felt higher than ever, and no amount of words, no amount of explanations, seemed to be able to break it down.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Joe,” Keyshia whispered, her voice raw. “I want to. God knows I want to. But I can’t just forget what you did. I can’t just move on like it never happened. And I don’t understand why you did it. I don’t understand how you could.”

Joe’s heart broke at her words. He reached out across the table, his hand trembling slightly as he placed it over hers. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to lose you. Please understand that. I don’t know how to make it right. But I want to. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Keyshia pulled her hand back, feeling the rawness of the moment more acutely than she had in weeks. She wanted to believe him—wanted to let the warmth of his apology soothe the ache inside her. But it was hard. Harder than she ever thought it would be. She couldn’t just erase the betrayal, couldn’t just move on as if nothing had happened. The wound was still too fresh, and every time she tried to let go, she was reminded of the pain he had caused her.

“I don’t know if we can ever be the same, Joe,” she said softly, her voice trembling. She looked at him, really looked at him, seeing the man who had once been her everything, and the man who had broken her heart. “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

Joe’s face fell, the realization that their relationship might never return to what it once was hitting him with full force. “I understand,” he said, his voice quiet. “I understand if you can’t. But I’m asking for a chance. A chance to prove to you that I’m not that person anymore. That I can be the man you deserve.”

Keyshia felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. The emotions were overwhelming, a storm inside her that she couldn’t control. She didn’t know what the future held for them. She didn’t know if they could ever find their way back to each other. All she knew was that, in this moment, she was torn between the man she once loved and the man who had hurt her in ways she couldn’t fully comprehend.

The rest of their date was spent in a kind of uncomfortable silence, the conversation faltering and stilted. They both wanted things to be different—wanted this night to be a sign of progress, a fresh start—but the weight of the past hung over them like a dark cloud that couldn’t be dispersed. Every attempt at small talk felt forced, every laugh too hollow. No matter how much they wanted it to work, no matter how hard they tried, the pieces didn’t fit. Not yet.

Their first date night in months, meant to be a moment of reconnection, ended up a bittersweet reminder of how far they had fallen. The hope for healing was there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and confusion, but it would take time—more time than either of them had anticipated. They both knew this wasn’t the end of their story. But whether or not they could truly rebuild what had been broken was uncertain. All they could do was try—and hope that, one day, understanding would come.

But for now, the silence between them spoke volumes, and Keyshia’s heart was still too full of unanswered questions to fully embrace the future.

Keyshia Anoa’i and Roman Reigns Caught Arguing at Dinner: What’s Going On?

Keyshia Anoa’i and Roman Reigns might be used to being in the spotlight for their impressive careers, but this time, it was a tense dinner date in Tampa that had everyone talking.

Eyewitnesses say the couple’s evening out looked anything but romantic, as they were spotted in what appeared to be a heated conversation throughout their meal. According to those who were there, the intensity of their exchange was evident, leaving onlookers guessing whether things were more than just a disagreement over the food they ordered.

While the details of their argument remain unclear, it's no secret that the couple has been navigating some tough times. Just a few months ago, Keyshia was arrested after an altercation with a woman whom she allegedly found with Roman, an incident that has cast a shadow over the couple’s relationship. Although neither Keyshia nor Roman has publicly addressed the situation, Keyshia was recently ordered to pay $100,000 to the woman involved, after she failed to show up for a court hearing in a lawsuit related to the incident.

As one insider put it, "Keyshia did not look happy at all" during the dinner, fueling speculation that there are still unresolved tensions between the two. Despite this, the couple has remained together since 2004 and share seven children. While the nature of their dinner argument is unclear, it’s evident they’re working through some very public challenges.

Could this dinner mark a turning point in their relationship? Only time will tell. For now, the couple’s fans are left hoping they can weather this storm just like they have with so many others over the years.

[noianoranoia]

you know something's wrong with you when your homoerotically charged toxic friendship from middle school wasn't even a friendship but an acquaintance at most and it lasts to this day and they don't even know about it. and you are sooo gonna die wondering and they are happy and fulfilled from the looks of it

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 1

Welcome to the sequel, but not the epilogue! It a bit confusing and I'm sorry. Essentially this story takes place before the sobriety celebration in the last chapter of Icarus. Which I would absolutely read first if you haven't yet. It's 25 chapters of Steddie on tour.

The epilogue takes place SIX years AFTER Gareth's celebration. And is only two chapters. It is an unmasking of The Fallen. I wrote when I was trying to flesh out Shane, Spence, and Simon.

Summary: After a grueling tour, Steve wants nothing more than take a vacation with his boyfriend and just be regular people for three months. Only Eddie isn't just anyone, he's the frontman for the world's most popular heavy metal band. So Chrissy and Robin come long to act as beards (provided they keep their hands off of each other long enough). Join the fruity four as they travel the world looking for the spooky, the kooky, and the all together weird.

~

The tour was finally over and Steve was ready to collapse. He couldn’t wait to be himself again.

It would be two weeks with Jim Hopper and the rest of his band to deprogram them from their alter egos then a three month trip with Robin and Eddie.

Everyone else had made plans too. Spence and Nadia were going to see a few of the national parks. They were going to start with the ones in California and then go from there. They were planning on making it a yearly thing, if they lasted that long.

His friends really hoped they did. One of them needed a healthy relationship that wasn’t kept in the shadows.

Steve showed up first and waited for his bandmates to trickle in. Shane arrived first. With coffee for all six of them. Robin and Hopper included. Steve gratefully took his syrupy sweet iced coffee with a grateful smile.

Shane was doing better too. He had started therapy too after talking with Gareth about his. Gareth had told him that it was better to start when the cracks were beginning to show, then after the damn had burst. And Shane had really taken that to heart.

Him and Gareth were taking a vacation together later in the summer. To places where drinking and partying wasn’t the only way to have fun. Both their therapists recommended it, to have a friend with them who was going through a similar journey to help keep them on the path to recovery.

Simon came in next. He gratefully took his black coffee with two sugars from Shane and flopped on the sofa next to Steve. He was the only one of them that didn’t have plans. But privately Steve thought that was a good thing. He needed to learn to be more independent and not rely on other members of the band so much.

Then it was Robin and Hopper together, they were talking about business things that made Steve’s head spin. He knew it was a necessary part of what they did, but he was glad he someone else to do it for him.

They each took their coffees from Shane with grateful mumbles and sat down in each the arm chairs.

Spence arrived last and looking rather harried.

“If I see one more out of state driver thinking that they know how to drive on the instate better than Californians I might actually commit murder.”

Shane held up a white Americano and Spence broke down into tears. “I love you, man!”

Spence gave him a huge hug and Shane just patted his back awkwardly. Once Spence stopped crying he went to go sit on the sofa with Steve and Simon.

“Sorry about that,” he said with a sniff. “It’s just been a horrific morning and the sweet smell of coffee was like balm on my soul.”

Steve was about to ask what was wrong, when Hopper cleared his throat. “All right, everyone. I’ve made everyone videos that I want all you of you to study for the next couple of hours and then we’ll slowly work on deprogramming all of you.”

They buckled down and got to work. Steve kept an eye on Spence though. And when they both got a break he pulled his drummer aside.

“Hey, bud,” Steve asked soothingly, “what’s wrong?”

Spence ran his fingers through his long curls and sighed. “Nadia has to go back to India for a few months because her grandfather is dying. Only she’s not sure how long it will be so most likely the vacation is off.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “And you’re not going with her, why?”

Spence raised his head and blinked back at him. “What?”

“You’re a multi-millionaire, dude,” Steve pointed out, “you could go with her to India. Meet her family, enjoy and learn a whole new country and culture.”

Spence’s eyes went wide. “I–I didn’t think of that...” he made a dive for his phone but Hopper was faster.

“It can wait until you’re done for today,” he growled. “You have a lot to do before you can contact people in your life.”

Spence blushed a dark red.

“Holy fucking hell, Spencer Peters,” Hopper snapped. “I told you not go see her. And ya did it anyway.”

“I figured I was okay,” Spence muttered. “After all I don’t talk as Azrael.”

Hopper smacked the back of his head. “Yeah and how did you explain your rough voice?”

“Traveler’s cough?” Spence said with a wince and a shrug.

Hopper squeezed the bridge of his nose with finger and thumb and sighed. “Don’t do that again, yes?”

Spence nodded, wide eyed.

Things progressed naturally from there. Every day, them becoming more like themselves and less like two separate people.

On the last day of “training” Robin came bouncing up to Steve.

“So...” she said nervously, “Vickie wants us to take a fourth on our vacation so it doesn’t look like I’m chaperoning you. Preferably another woman.”

Steve sighed.

He really should have seen that coming. Even though Robin/Celeste are known homosexuals, having another woman there would dispel the rumors that Eddie and Steve were dating.

“It would have to be someone straight,” he said, resigned.

“Would another chaotic bisexual work?” Robin asked chewing nervously on her lower lip.

“Chrissy.”

Robin grinned. “Yeah. It’ll be awesome because like me she was friends with the band before she became their manager so her and Eddie are really close, like you and me and with her with us, you ‘dating’ a manager isn’t as gold digger-esque as dating a international rockstar. Plus, she really likes the spooky and supernatural stuff too, so she wouldn’t be a killjoy about it–”

Steve grabbed her by the shoulders and said firmly, “Breathe.”

Robin took a massive inhale and gulped.

“I don’t mind Chrissy coming along,” he said with a wry smile, “but are you sure you don’t just want her along because you have a crush on her?”

She opened her mouth to refute it, but Steve raised an eyebrow and she slammed her mouth shut.

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly. “Just know you cannot do anything even remotely couple-y with her otherwise that will completely counter the whole reason she’s there in the first place.”

Robin raised her hands in surrender. “I promise to keep my hands to myself until we get home.”

“Then of course she can come.”

“Yay!” Robin cried jumping up and down.

~

Steve was packing for his trip and was starting to worry that maybe this was a bad idea. He hadn’t thought about how it would look with him spending so much money on clothes and accommodation. Travel and food made sense on a PA’s salary, but staying in the places that Eddie would want to stay in without being labeled a gold digger was starting to weigh on his mind.

Which is of course when Eddie came to his rescue without him even needing to say a word.

The man in question came bounding into his room, him long since having had a key to the place, even well before he knew Steve was Abbadon. It was just now, he also had the biolock to Steve’s studio, too.

“Baby,” Eddie said giddily. “I found these haunted bed and breakfast places we can stay in on trip. With motels on standby in case they really are haunted. What do you think?”

Eddie let out a startled squawk when Steve tackled him onto the bed and completely ravished him.

When they were lying in bed afterward Eddie asked what that was about.

“Like, I loved the welcome,” he hedged. “But damn sweetheart, what did I do to deserve that in particular?”

Steve blushed and tucked his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “I was worried about it looking like I have too munch money for a PA or looking like a gold digger, then you come in with a plan of small bed and breakfasts and motels and I honestly couldn’t love you more in that moment.”

Eddie blinked for a moment as he took that in.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “you’ve gone on more lavish vacations with me before, what’s all the worry for now?”

“It’s just after the tour and the press accusing me of riding on your coattails and only being your friend for your money...”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie cooed, pulling Steve in impossibly closer. “I’d forgotten about that bullshit. Of course you’d be worried about that.”

“And then you came barreling into my intrusive thoughts,” Steve huffed in faux annoyance, “and just by being your sweet lovable self, scared off all my doubts and worries. Which is why I absolutely could not keep my hands off of you.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I approve.”

Steve giggled and rolled on top of him to shower him with kisses. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” Eddie murmured. “So the B&Bs are a hit?”

Steve sat up, straddling his hips. “Yeah, Eddie, it’s a hit. It’s perfect and low key. Most of those places wouldn’t even recognize you.” He paused for a moment. “Wait... that’s why you picked it isn’t?”

Eddie blushed and shoved a lock of hair in front of his face, nodding shyly.

Steve started kissing him again and again. “I think it’s a perfect idea, honey. I love that you thought of everything. Now we can absolutely go and everyone can have a good time. Thanks to you.”

“I want to take all the credit for be smart,” Eddie said bashfully, “but I was just going for as much fun and as silly as possible.”

Steve kissed him fiercely. “Well, still take credit, babe, because you cinched it for everyone.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said, then he grabbed Steve waist and flipped them over. “For being so sweet, I think it’s time I repaid you.” He slid down Steve’s body, hands roaming over sensitive skin the further down he went.

Steve let out a gasp as Eddie’s mouth enveloped around his dick. It would be sometime before either of them got out of bed.

~

The day of their departure came and all their bandmates came out to see them off. Simon had decided to take a wine tour of Italy and France to brush up on his language skills. An endeavor Robin heartily endorsed.

Steve secretly hoped that he would find a nice European woman to settle down with and get married. He could bring her back to LA so that it didn’t break up the band, but...

Yeah, he knew it was pipe dream. Simon still got too far into his head especially with his anxiety.

They hugged and kissed everyone goodbye and started their journey of all things, spooky, kooky, and the bizarre at Alcatraz Prison.

The long white corridors and echoing chambers was exactly what they wanted in a place they visited.

They all listened with rapt attention as their tour guide went on about the notorious prisoners and the daring escape that to that day was still unsolved. They even talked about how the Mythbusters had proven that they could have survived.

That night in their first haunted bed and breakfast, they pulled up the episode on Chrissy’s laptop and they all huddled around it to watch.

Then the girls went into one room and Eddie and Steve went into the other. They probably could have afforded to have all of them having their own room, but Eddie and Steve wanted the privacy. The one place they could act couple-y.

“Just think!” Eddie said excitedly. “All the mobsters that were interned there. Machine Gun Kelly! Al Capone! Fucking Al Capone! Whitey Bulger!”

Steve nodded. “And that famous escape from the Anglin Brothers and Frank Morris! God, that place was creepy as hell though.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “If that’s what solitary is like it should be against the law. What the honest fuck.”

“Just don’t commit any murders and I think we should be okay,” Steve assured him, rubbing his arm gently.

Eddie cocked his head to the side and put his finger to his lips thoughtfully. “No promises!”

Steve laughed and tackled his boyfriend to the bed. “God I love you.” He kissed Eddie deeply. “How quiet do you think you can be?”

“Right...” Eddie snorted, “like I’m the loud one, Mr. Screamer.” He casually flipped the two of them over, Steve giving a surprised yelp. “Do you think you can be quiet or do you think we need to gag you?”

Steve’s eyes went wide and his jaw went slack. He never thought he’d like the idea of a gag, but with Eddie, he was learning all sorts of new things about himself.

“Ooh...” Eddie said with a grin. “Someone just bluescreened over that suggestion.” Steve could only nodded. “You stay right there, pumpkin, let me go find something to gag you with.”

Steve nodded again, even more enthusiastically then before. He watched eagerly as Eddie went digging through their luggage, hoping he found something quickly.

“Ah ha!” Eddie cried, holding up his prize. It was a blank bandanna with white skulls on it. “This’ll do!”

He came bounding back up the bed and tied it over Steve’s mouth. “Now you just lie there, princess. I’m going to take good care of you tonight.”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

I was going to start from scratch (meaning just putting my permanent list down and have ten new people request to be tagged), but there are a couple from my permanent list that aren't on the list for this one, and as I really don't want to have to go line by line (I will fuck up and do it wrong), I'm just keeping the list from Icarus across the trilogy, sorry!

If you are on this list and want to be removed from this and future sequels, let me know!

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Jane, Medical Technician

Part 4

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

“I still don’t see why I have to do this,” Simms of the Galley whined, sponge in one hand and a spray bottle in the other.

“Well let’s see,” Huhuma crossed her arms, “you came in here on the first day of the mission with a completely avoidable injury, made us waste precious time and medical supplies, and then somehow thought it’d be a good idea to vandalize my sick bay.”

At her desk, Jane smirked but continued filling out forms. It’d been several months since the Noah had launched, and like clockwork, Simms was there cleaning once a week, every week.

“So unless you want to explain to the Captain exactly why you’re here during your off hours,” the doctor continued, “get back to work.”

It’s been kind of hilarious, in Jane’s opinion, watching all three feet of Simms wielding a broom that had at least half a foot on him, but even she had to admit that the little gray man was putting the effort in. Either he really did feel remorse for his actions, or much more likely, sincerely did not want Captain Skitch to find out what he’d done. Either way, Jane was happy someone else was doing the cleaning.

Simms grumbled something about primate descendant species, then got back to scrubbing.

“Uh huh, and when you’re done there you can wash the test tubes,” Huhuma said, walking back to her office. She winked at Jane as she passed and the human’s heart did a funny little number as the door closed behind her. It took an embarrassingly long moment before Jane could refocus on her files again.

Nothing else had really happened since that night with the Scrib’s dinner and subsequent ‘morning after’, but Jane wasn’t sure whether to be thankful for that, or just disappointed. She’d admitted to herself that yeah, she had a crush on her boss, much to the relief and amusement of her newfound friends Liz and Marrin. Liz’s mandatory therapy session has since devolved into ‘girl talk’ between the three of them, and sometimes Coco, Liz’s Sprygan lab partner.

Totally humiliating, Jane thought, too many people have seen me break down like we’re back in high school.

Jane figured work would be a good way to clear her head, that and watching Simms struggle to reach higher shelves.

After a few minutes of trying to use an old fashioned mop on the walls, the Galley gave up.

“Do you have anything I can use to get up higher? A stool or something?” He asked, defeated. Jane decided to take pity on him.

“Yeah, there’s a little step stool in the supply locker, I’ll get it.”

Jane punched in the code, and the door opened. She handed the small alien the stool.

“Thanks. Weird that the one who tackled me to the floor is actually the nice one,” Simms joked.

“Hey, Huhuma’s nice, really, she just saves it for people who deserve it.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. She’s always nice to you,” Simms threw her an odd look. “If I’d known you two were mates, I’d have never tried to make jokes that first shift.”

Jane started, taking a second to respond.

“What? No, no, we’re not ‘mates’, we’re… friends, and coworkers, and she’s my boss.”

Smooth.

“Oh really?” Simms turned back to the wall and kept scrubbing. “On my planet, when somebody looks at you the way you both look at each other, it’s pretty obvious what happens behind closed doors.”

“Well thanks, I guess, but if I wanted the opinion of a little gray vandal, I would’ve asked,” Jane said, turning her back on him to continue typing.

“Well, all I’m gonna say is, if you two aren’t together, better get on it soon if you want to be,” Simms droned on, as if only half thinking about what he was saying. “When this ‘experiment’ comes to an end soon it’ll be too late.”

Something in the Galley’s tone made Jane turn back around, her brow furrowing and her eyes squinting at the alien.

“What do you mean ‘soon’? The ship’s only been out for three months,” she asked.

“What?” Simms’s big black eyes widened just a fraction, but it was enough that Jane noticed. “I just… I just mean, it only lasts a year right? That’s not a lot of time for you humans, right?” His eyes twitched and he looked away, scrubbing harder.

Jane wanted to press further, but concluded that he’d just turn it into something stupid to try to get out of cleaning. She did, however, admit that the Galley was right. A year wasn’t a lot of time, and a quarter of it was already spent.

If she really wanted to do something, she’d have to make a decision about what that’d be soon.

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

Jane decided to eat lunch in the mess hall for once, giving Doctor Huhuma total control of the med bay. The doctor would be performing a relatively major procedure on one of the crew soon, and had to plan it with the nurse staff. Jane wouldn’t be assisting unless something unexpected happened. It didn’t make sense to tie up the hands of both the ship’s primary doctors for a whole cycle, in case of emergencies.

So there she was, taking her Vending Machine ramen and looking for a place to sit. Jane hadn’t eaten in the mess hall for weeks, usually opting to dine with the Doctor and the other Indoprimes. Looking for a place to sit, she saw Liz and her Sprygan friend Coco sitting at a table, along with another human, she thought his name was Thomas. She headed that way.

“Hey guys, mind if I sit?” she asked.

“Oh, hey hon!” Liz said brightly, “yeah, pull up a chair.”

“Hey there doc,” Thomas waved. “Heard you watched me sleep for a couple days, thanks for that.”

“Oh yeah,” Jane snapped her fingers, “nasty sunburn you had there, almost forgot about that. You doing alright? How’s Odis?”

“We’re both good, thanks for asking. His cast should be off in a few more days.”

There came a muffled beep from under the table. Thomas looked down.

“Yeah, it’s the nice doctor lady, the one who fixed me,” Thomas said quietly, then turned back up. “Roomba says thanks for patching me up. Little guy was worried about me for a while there apparently.”

“That’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jane said, putting a hand to her chest, “and I need you to know I’d both kill and die for Roomba’s sake.”

Another muffled beep.

“He said he’ll remember the sentiment.”

“Where’s Coco?” she asked Liz.

“Oh, they’re writing a report back to Spryga. Apparently their rapid growth spurt was actionable cause to boost cocoa production on their home planet. Turns out the whole species is just… malnourished isn’t the right word, but anyway, gluten stimulates growth for them so they’re looking into it more.”

“Weird they didn’t know that,” Thomas said through a mouthful of sandwich.

“What can you do, they’re not a predator or prey species, their entire evolutionary development is a passive experience,” Liz shrugged. “They’re just now taking a more direct approach to handling predators on their planet.”

“You know, I almost did a thesis paper on botanical lifeforms in the academy,” Jane said, “it was between that and evolutionary symmetry across planetary systems. I went with the latter.”

“Good choice,” Thomas said. “That’s a way more popular topic right now anyway. Nothing against the Sprygans,” he added, looking at Liz. She just raised an eyebrow at him and kept eating.

They ate quietly for a few minutes, idle brainless chatter filling the space between bites. It wasn’t until Thomas asked the question that Jane even thought of that incident again.

“Either of you guys notice anything weird on the ship?” the engineer asked. “Like stuff going missing or people acting strange?”

“What a blatantly loaded question,” Liz said, raising her eyebrows. “Who are you, Sherlock Holmes?”

Thomas just looked at them in turn.

“Yeah, actually,” Jane said, more to Liz’s surprise, and her own, than Thomas’s, “a couple of, uhh, laser scalpels went missing a while ago. I thought I had messed up inventory, but they’re not in med bay. I’ve turned everything over twice looking for them, they’re not there.”

“I overheard my boss this morning saying he’d lost a bag of tools and spare parts somewhere,” Thomas continued, “but it’s not just that. Maintenance has been getting reports of weird breakdowns and other mishaps for weeks. I didn’t notice until now because the weird ones are never assigned to me.”

“Okay, hold on, stop,” Liz waved her hands, “what are we talking about here, some ship wide conspiracy to make our jobs harder? What? Do you hear yourselves?”

Jane was more confused than anything. Sabotage on the ship? Seriously? In what universe did that make sense? They were on an experimental mission for intergalactic cooperation.

Who’d try to screw that up? Jane thought. She took another bite, more to buy herself time to think of what to say than actual hunger.

“Look, all I’m saying is, something weird is going on here on this ship,” Thomas whispered, looking around at the other tables with all those different species. “Have either of you talked to Danny?”

“Who?” Jane asked.

“Chief Ducane, Danny, the head of security,” he explained.

“Right! That’s right, he’s the one who carried Liz here to med bay after her accident. No, not since then. Why?”

“Because somebody searched his office while the door was jammed open.”

Liz turned to look at him, eyes narrowing, while Jane herself simply looked dumbfounded.

“The hell are you talking about?” Liz questioned, dropping her voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Yeah, I was with him when it happened,” Thomas explained. “We were looking into something, and when he got back to his office someone had been in there.”

“Jesus,” Jane exclaimed. That really put the incident with Simms in perspective for her.

“Why are you telling us any of this?” she asked. “Chief Ducane had to have told you to keep that to yourself, right?”

Another muffled beep. Jane looked under the table to see the tiny service drone peeking its head out of Thomas’s work bag. It had what looked like a modded data pad.

“Roomba said that is correct,” Thomas explained, “though clearly not in so many words.”

“And?” Liz stared at him.

“I… had to tell somebody,” Thomas said sheepishly, “it was eating me alive, and I figured if anyone was safe to tell, it’d be the humans. We have the most to lose if the mission goes sideways. We built the ship, it launched from Earth orbit, the new Warp core was what put us in such good graces with the GAIL in the first place. If something derails the mission, then we Terrans are going to look the worst because of it.”

Jane didn’t know what to say to that. An hour ago her biggest problem was that she might stay perpetually single. Now it looked like their jobs in their entirety were in danger, maybe worse.

The three talked a while longer, exchanging comm-link communication codes, and unwittingly eyeballing the other crew in the mess hall for any odd behavior. Intelligence agents they were not. Jane thought the crew was watching them as well, but that could have just been because they hadn’t seen three humans together before.

Jane Shaw wished she’d had a lighter meal. She left the mess hall with her stomach in knots.

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

“Jane, respond please!”

The comm-link on Jane’s hip blipped as Huhuma’s voice came out of it. She pulled it off her belt and clicked the button.

“What’s up, Doc? Need something?” She clicked off, waiting for a response.

“We need you in the surgery suite, one of the nurses accidentally spilled anesthetic gel on themselves and I need you to substitute immediately.”

Another odd accident, huh? Jane thought suspiciously, silently cursing Thomas for making her paranoid.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Jane took off at a brisk pace down the hall to the lift, trying her hair up as she went.

She scrubbed down in the sanitation room and got her scrubs and PPE on, then made her way into the surgical suite. The nurse staff were half around the patient, who was mostly obscured by the sheet save for an exposed patch of blue skin with a sizable hole in it, the other half around Nurse Waas, a four armed Zilont, who was slumped over in the corner. The anesthetic had semi paralyzed the gas bladders they used for muscles, so until they regained feelings in their limbs again they were out of commission.

“Good, you’re here,” Huhuma said while her hands were inside the open body cavity, “I’ve mostly got this under control, but things got a little hectic in here so I thought it’d be better to call you.”

“It’s no problem doctor,” Jane brushed it off, “what do you need me to do?”

“They’re going to take Waas out of here and get him on a bed in recovery, so I need you to take over for the three of them while I finish up. Hand me those clips.”

Jane came around to the operating side and set the clips in Doctor Huhuma’s hand. She didn’t even mind the purple blood too much.

“There’s a little bleed somewhere in his bowels,” Huhuma explained, “he got shaken around when Waas collapsed and I think I nicked something. This was just supposed to be a quick obstruction removal until everything went wrong.”

“Everything is gonna be fine Huhuma,” Jane said calmly, “we got this. What else do you need?”

That was how they worked. Doctor Huhuma operated, making adjustments and stopped the bleeding, while Jane handled everything else and watched the beautiful work her counterpart did. To her it was like poetry in purple bloody motion. Every move precise, every action calculated. Jane remembered the last surgery she performed, where her patient was basically awake as she cut into his throat. Compared to that, this was like watching an artist in her studio, calmly going painting a masterpiece. Jane hadn’t seen Huhuma operate yet, and she had to say, it was impressive. As she was closing him up, Jane doubted he’d even have a scar, the Doctor’s stitch work was flawless.

Coming out of the surgical suite, the nurse staff took the patient to recovery, and the Doctors hung back to sanitize and get back into normal clothes.

“Good work today,” Huhuma said, washing her hands. “You really came through for me.”

“My pleasure, Doc,” Jane said, lathering up her arms with the soap. “Happy to help.”

“I didn’t know what I was going to do when that gel tube burst out the back. Poor Waas, never saw it coming. Had to have been a faulty seal on the stuff, just bad luck that it happened while I had someone open on the table.”

Jane looked at her for a second, thinking quickly. Bad luck? Maybe. Another possible sabotage? She didn’t want to think about it.

“You know,” Huhuma continued, “you humans never disappoint. Always seem to come through for others in the end. You especially, Jane. This is the second time you being there has saved a patient. I really, really appreciate that about you.”

Huhuma bumped her shoulder into Jane’s, and all thoughts of a saboteur flew out the air lock. Suddenly she was very aware that it was just the two of them in the decontamination room, and that Huhuma’s tail was flicking against the back of her legs.

“Well you know,” Jane said slowly, “it’s my job too. Be there to make sure everything works, fix people up.”

Huhuma smiled and dried her hands and fur off before putting her hand on Jane’s shoulder.

“Still though, we should do something special. Just because it’s your job doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some kind of… reward, right?” Huhuma left her hand on Jane’s shoulder and moment longer before grinning and walked towards the door. It opened with a hiss, and as she stood there, the good doctor looked back.

“See you tomorrow, Doctor Shaw.”

And then the door closed.

And then Jane’s legs buckled and she slumped against the sink.

What the hell what the hell what the actual fuck does that mean? Is this work place harassment? Do I care? Am I into it?

Apparently!

Of the many problems aboard the Noah, Jane decided to try to focus on just hers for the time being.

[oddinary4bts]

When the End Comes | ch 1 (jjk)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. Curse words, Jungkook's car, mentions of Jungkook's accident, mention of reader getting kicked out in TFS, explicit content: breast/nipple play, hickey, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, hair pulling, jerking off, squirting, praise, pain kink (Jungkook), balls squeezing (lmao), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

☆word count: 9.4k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: First chapter is here and it's time to CRY (I apologize in advance for the therapy bills) :') Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)

☆☆☆☆☆

But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

Wednesday, April 19th 

                The setting sun turns the living room into liquid gold, bathing you in golden warmth that traces your features delicately from where you sit on the couch. Spring is upon you – outside, you can hear birds singing, and the gentle wind of spring carries the smell of melted snow, of wet soil and of early leaves.

You sigh. Your phone has been dead silent all day, as it’s been for weeks now, and the loneliness of it keeps the winter cold close. Always.

Jungkook said he would call. He often says it, often promises he wants to go to sleep with your voice at his ear, since he can’t sleep with you in his arms. Years ago, when he first started his job in Europe, he did, calling you every night when you got home from work and he went to sleep in a European city too far from you.

He usually leaves for a few months at a time. Never more than three, and he usually stays for a month after that before leaving again. He’s been photographing for museums all over Europe, and his latest job at the Louvres in Paris seems to have been keeping him more occupied than the others.

You’d think it’d make sense – the Louvres is the Louvres. But you miss Jungkook. Miss the early years of your relationship, when you spent almost every day together. When he moved in with you in your first apartment, the one he had found for you while you weren’t even dating yet.

A deep ache has settled inside of you this time around. Because, even if he says he’ll try, even if he promised it wouldn’t be like the last time he was away, this time is worse. Far worse. You’ve only spoken to him on the phone once since he left half a month ago, and he texts you sparingly throughout the week.

You never thought there would come a day when your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t be what it was at the beginning. Hell, the honeymoon phase lasted for almost three years, and then you had another year before he started working overseas. The first months he had spent away had rekindled the flame, passion and desire burning through you the moment you laid your eyes on him again the day he had come back.

But distance is difficult. Distance can tame even the wildest flame, and you’re starting to believe it has tamed the flame between you and Jungkook. You hate it – every night for a week you’ve fallen asleep with a heart so heavy it felt as if you weren’t going to wake up. And every day you’ve woken up feeling even worse, and you don’t know what’s going to help anymore.

You turn your head, catching sight of the frames on the shelves by the window. They too bathe in setting sunlight, shining like the glass is made of gold. From where you’re sitting, you can’t really see the pictures, but you know them by heart.

There are the pictures from his first photo exhibit, when you were still in college. Pictures of you, of him falling in love with you and you falling in love with him. Then there are pictures of that first Christmas, and of the first time you celebrated your birthday with him. Pictures of you, of him holding you, and of his hand in yours. Pictures from when Jiho gave birth to her first child Lisa, and then a picture with you two on a camping trip with Lisa and her younger brother Charles. That trip happened two summers ago, replacing your usual annual visit to a cabin in the woods, the year after the dance crew retired. Because as much as you and your friends loved that cabin in the woods, loved the dance crew, you eventually grew out of it.

There are pictures from Heather and Bridget’s wedding last fall, pictures of your story with Jungkook as it unfolded through the years.

No new pictures have been added since that last picture in the fall, because nothing worth taking pictures of happened since then. Jungkook has been gone most of the time, and when he’s here he’s too tired to do anything, preferring staying in and cuddling on the couch as you watch hours of Netflix without ever speaking.

You see the doom. It’s been coming for you, tightening around you like a scourge. Nothing you’ve been trying to do has helped – not even the nice lingerie pictures you sent him two nights ago. Not even the letter you wrote for him, though he did have flowers delivered to you at the firm.

Your coworker Harrison made fun of you for the flowers, teasing you like he’s taken to teasing you whenever something related to Jungkook happens. Which, as much as you hate admitting, is not much anymore.

Sometimes, when he’s away, you think he’s a ghost in your life. You wish you could turn back time and go back to the night where it all started between you. The July night of years ago, or perhaps the night of the hotel roof in Chicago. You struggle to pinpoint where you’d go back, but you do believe that anything would be better than the now.

You blink away the blurriness in your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady the aching beats of your heart. You glance at your phone – your empty notification screen stares back at you, a reminder that for all he says, he’s stopped trying this time around.

You figure you could call him. Could make the effort, but you’re tired. Tired of trying when it seems like it doesn’t work anymore. And so your aching heart keeps beating in your chest, and you put your phone away to cook dinner when it’s become clear that he won’t call.

And when you go to bed, after having taken the dog out one last time, your phone still lies empty, the picture of you and him that you have as a background taunting you, haunting you until troubled sleep finds you in its hold.

Friday, May 5th

                Jungkook hates himself. Hates how every time he says he’ll call you, he ends up falling asleep. He doesn’t know why; it’s like his heart fights against his body. But tonight, he’s determined to call. He’s been meaning to show you the lights of the Eiffel tower, when the clock strikes midnight, and he promised he will tonight.

You haven’t replied to his text. He’s been feeling you slipping through his fingers for a few weeks. You barely reply when he talks to you anymore, sending one-worded answers most of the time. Maybe that is the reason why he’s been struggling to call – there’s an impending doom lingering around your relationship, and he wants to avoid it for as long as he can.

He’s been replaying your fight earlier last week on repeat since it happened. You, screaming that he said he was going to change, was going to try to call more and make more effort before he went to Paris. Him, telling you that you should be understanding, that he’s doing his best and that most nights he goes to bed before you’ve even finished work. You’d told him sometimes you wished you could hate him, as it’d be easier than loving him from afar. The words struck harder than a physical blow could have, and since then the doom has been clearer in the distance, as if it’s getting closer.

Just thinking about it hurts too much. He can’t wait for his contract with the Louvres to be done. Can’t wait to be home, and to tell you in person just how much he loves you.

He thinks his love has just been growing stronger. Through all the years, it’s just been growing inside of him, making him into a better person with every beat of his heart. The thought brings a smile to his lips, strangely enough, even though there’s still pain in his heart.

He still remembers when you first got Bam. He thinks that day is the one that made his love grow the most, until he thought his heart was going to burst in his chest. It fortunately never did, and he looks at his phone’s background quickly, needing to see you.

There you are, in all your glory. Hair a mess as you hold a tiny puppy in your arm, with your eyes sparkling like they’re holding the light of the universe. Of his universe, and it hasn’t changed. Still, today he knows if he were to see you, you still would hold the light of his universe.

After all, it started a July night seven years ago, and it’s never going to go away.

Thirteen days until he’s going to be home. And he decided to take a longer break this time around – he doesn’t have another contract yet. He’s been approached by the Victoria and Albert museum in London, but he’s told them that he likely won’t be able to go until late October.

They said they’ll be happy to have him whenever his schedule allows.

He’s yet to tell you – it’s a surprise, and he reckons your relationship terribly needs it. And he’s excited, as it means months that he’ll get to spend with you.

He’s going to take some small photography jobs back home until then, and spend the rest of his time with you, whenever you’re not at the firm. He reckons he can always meet you there for lunch – he used to do that when you first got the job at the firm where your father used to work.

Jungkook sighs, and he glances at the time on his phone. It’s almost time to call, and he’s proud he’s been able to stay up, sitting on the balcony of his Airbnb, watching the Eiffel tower in the distance.

The Louvres is paying for the Airbnb, and they really chose one of the best in the city. The view of the tower is beautiful, night and day, the architecture of it satisfying in ways he can barely comprehend. He took pictures of it through the different weathers, and he’s excited to show you when he’ll be back.

Five minutes before the clock strikes midnight, Jungkook lets out a long yawn as he goes to your profile, hitting the Facetime button. He’s told you he would call, up to the very minute, and he doesn’t want to disappoint this time around.

He watches his face on the screen as it rings. It rings and rings, and yet you don’t pick up. Something unsettling grows in his gut, and he pulls at his lip piercing in worry as he calls again when the call claims it failed to connect.

He tries four times more, until the Eiffel tower is sparkling in the distance, and your form still has yet to appear. So he looks up, watches the show and then heads to bed, each of his step feeling heavier than the last.

The next morning, he wakes up to some texts of yours.

[04:21 am] bby <3: sorry, i was out for dinner with friends from work [04:22 am] bby <3: I assume u’re asleep now? [04:41 am] bby <3: good night

For some reason, he can’t bring himself to reply.

Thursday, May 18th

                It’s been raining all week. The world, crying as if it’s coming to an end. It’s unsettling, and you miss the sunrays. Miss the warmth that they carry, because now the world seems void of any.

You’re not looking forward to going home. It’s the first time that the thought of seeing Jungkook is scaring you – you have a feeling the distance between you is more than just physical, and you’re afraid to see him.

Afraid to be faced with the fact that everything changed irreparably.

You’ve slept in his clothes every night of May. It hasn’t made you feel closer to him, has only made you feel like he’s drifting further away, like a piece of wood lost at sea, pulled away by the current. And as much as you long for his return, you fear he’s crossed a threshold now.

You fear you’re not into it anymore.

The thought has made you cry countless times. You never thought you’d get to a moment in life when splitting with Jungkook seemed to be an option. You thought you were made of forever, of an eternity built just for you. You thought he’d always be enough for you, and that you’d always be enough for him too. But when Taehyung and Jo got engaged and said that they’d marry the first weekend of September, you realized that you want that for yourself too.

You want to start growing with your partner, you want them to be around. And Jungkook just isn’t.

You’ve spoken to Jiho about it. A haunting conversation, that you’ve been replaying in your mind constantly since it happened a week and a half ago.

She came over, only to find you cradling the picture of the July night sky, the one Jungkook had given you after his exposition. She sat next to you, tired eyes surveying your profile. When you started crying, she pulled you in a hug, and held you against her chest as you sobbed.

When you calmed down, she ran a soothing hand on your back. She waited for you to patiently find your words, and when you had, they spilled from your mouth, with no dam to stop them anymore.

“I think I’m going to break up with him,” you told her. It had you chasing more tears away, hating the weakness of your heart as it broke in your chest. “I can’t do the distance anymore. I want something like you and Hobi have, like Jo and Taehyung have. I want someone to wake up to every day and… I don’t… I don’t think loving him is enough anymore.”

She offered you a sad smile, her features sober as she nodded once. “Will you regret it?”

A lone tear spilled on your cheek, holding all the answers she needed. You let it roll down your cheek, let it fall in your lap. Jiho nodded once again, understanding, and added, “I’ll be there for you.”

Your decision was made that day. You don’t think you’ll change your mind, but you’re afraid to see him. Afraid to be faced with the reality of it.

The worst part is, you think you already started getting adjusted to living without him. Hell, the distance has been a good training, so you think you’ll be okay after. It’s just the during that scares you, because you know that when he breaks, you break too.

You know how much you broke for him once. You know you’ll break again, know the first days are going to be hell, but you know that in the long term, it’s the right decision.

At least you hope so.

Jungkook texted you that he got home in the middle of the afternoon, and that he was going to take a nap. He said he couldn’t wait to see you, and you’ve had to swallow countless lumps in your throat whenever you’ve thought of the words.

You take a deep steadying breath as your shift ends, leaving you with no choice but to head home. Harrison notices your fallen features, and he offers you a kind smile.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises.

You want to tell him he’s a liar, but all you do is offer him a tight-lipped smile in return.

*****

                The apartment in soundless when you finally reach home. Outside, the wind plays in the leaves, splashing water against the windows. It makes for a relaxing sound, yet it does nothing to relax you.

You take off your shoes by the door and drop your purse on the small table just a few steps in as Bam comes to greet you. You pet the dog mindlessly, scanning your surroundings to see if Jungkook is coming too, but it seems he fell asleep. You stop by the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water as you survey the world outside the window, hoping it holds any kind of solace. It doesn’t – the world is crying, and you think by the end of the night there’s a high chance you will be crying too.

You sigh, try to swallow around the lump in your throat but it doesn’t work. You choke on a sip of water, and startle when Jungkook asks if you’re okay.

You didn’t hear him sneaking up on you.

You turn around, the sense of impending doom growing tenfold at the thought that he’s going to be right there, in the flesh, when you set your eyes on him. And he is – a sleepy Jungkook is standing in the door of the kitchen, leaning against the frame as he offers you a small, tired smile.

You’re not sure what to do at first, and when he opens up his arms for you you rush towards him, leaving the glass of water on the counter.

His embrace is familiar, warm. If he wasn’t gone for so long, you think it’d be enough to keep you here, forever. You both remain silent, and your heart beats achingly in your chest as you try to hold him closer, as if you can be one.

As if that’ll make him stay.

“Hey,” he says, voice choked with emotion.

You only hold him tighter, and tears burn behind your closed eyelids as you hide your face in his neck. He smells familiar, like home. He smells like the clothes you’ve been wearing in an attempt to gather the courage to break up with him.

You hate yourself deeply, then. You think about the years, and aren’t they enough? Isn’t the love enough?

He grabs your shoulders, delicately, to push you away. And then his hands move to your cheeks, and he’s tilting your head back to press his soft, pink lips against yours. It’s barely just a peck, and it hurts so much you think you’ll die.

“How was work?” he asks when he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

You breathe in slowly, and then out, your breath mingling with his in the space between you. “Long,” you answer, because it’s the truth.

“I’ll cook you dinner,” he says.

If he notices you holding your breath as your heart keeps on breaking, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pulls away, leaves you standing by the door as he moves in the room proper. You’re not sure you’ll survive a dinner with him, not when the inevitability of what you’re going to do is looming over you, like a sword of Damocles ready to cut the link between you and him.

“Okay,” you breathe out.

You sit at the table as he fishes ingredients out of the fridge – stuff you clearly didn’t buy. Which means he went grocery shopping, and you just ache so fiercely the air turns to poison in your lungs.

“Do you want to chop the vegetables?” he asks.

You gulp before nodding curtly. “Sure.”

You move closer to him as he puts said vegetables on the counter, and you grab a knife as he hands you a cutting board. It’s familiar, domestic, and it helps lessen the pain somehow. To have this moment, with him, even though your decision is made.

“You’re silent,” Jungkook comments as you finish dicing an onion.

You purse your lips, head hanging low as you reply, “I’m tired, sorry.”

He turns on the stove, placing a pan on top of it. As he’s putting oil in it, he glances at you. You barely notice from the corner of your eyes, but you still can tell he’s trying to figure how to reach you, in the dark place where your mind has gone.

“Something happened?”

No. Nothing happened. Nothing happened when it should have. Was distance really enough to kill your relationship with him?

Needing the conversation to move away from the current subject, you reply, “Not really.” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you add, “How was Paris?”

“It sucked,” Jungkook is quick to answer. “It was a lot of work and I barely had time to explore the city.”

“Mmh,” you hum, nodding your head.

You freeze as he moves closer, taking the knife out of your hands. He forces you to turn towards him, and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I took some pictures of the Eiffel tower for you,” he admits. “It was pretty at night. Made me think of you.”

You shut your eyes tight, and for once you win against the tears that were threatening to spill. “You did?” you let out when your eyelids finally flutter open again. “You can show me over dinner.”

“I’d rather just spend time with you for now,” he says, softly, and you hate that his big, doe eyes feel like heaven. “I… I missed you.”

You think he knows. You both know what’s coming. But you want this last moment with him, so you say, “I missed you too. Way too much.”

“You’ve been sleeping in my clothes,” he teases, but it’s lacking the usual lilt to his voice that makes you roll your eyes playfully.

“Yeah.”

He pulls at his piercing, and you focus on that because his eyes are going to read every little treacherous thought in your head, and you don’t think you’d survive that.

He doesn’t say anything else before he busies himself with putting the onion you diced in the pan. You lean on the counter to watch him cook, handing him the ingredients that you know he’ll need.

You’ve cooked together a thousand times before, and never you would have thought that there’d be a last time. You clench your jaw against the pain, and though you don’t feel hungry, you sit at the kitchen table with him to eat.

You manage to get some food down. Jungkook is an amazing cook, and you’ve always loved his food. It’s something you know you’re likely to miss, when he won’t be around anymore.

Fuck.

After dinner, you do the dishes while Jungkook brings Bam outside, as he usually does when he’s here. He’s back before you’re done, and you focus on finishing to clean the dishes, trying to ignore him.

He’s been silent through the meal, and you’ve avoided the glances he’s sent your way. But when he grabs your wrist, gently, you meet his gaze.

His eyes shine. It takes you a few seconds to register that it’s because tears are welling up in his innocent gaze, and you wish you’d die right on the spot.

“Why is it awkward?” he asks.

You purse your lips and then bite the tip of your tongue, as if it’ll help. “Can we go to bed early?”

You don’t know why you asked that question. You convinced yourself to break up right away, but then again you think you need a last time.

You need a goodbye.

He nods, blinking the tears away. His hand moves until it’s wrapped around yours, and he pulls you to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, but before he’s taken his shirt off you step in front of him, fist closing around a handful of fabric so you can pull him close.

There’s urgency in the kiss, along with yearning. It’s quick, it’s heated and desperate. You wonder if he can taste the goodbye on your tongue – does it taste bitter for him too?

Though he seemed startled from the sudden kiss, he’s quick to kiss you back, to grab your waist and pull you closer, as if that’ll make you stay. And while you kiss your mind runs with the memories – the first time you’d kissed, in that hot tub. The kiss on the hotel roof, the kiss after he’d helped you move in your first apartment.

More than that, it’s a memory from four years ago that resurfaces the most. It takes the centerpiece of the stage of your mind, and you find yourself back in your old apartment, the first one you’d ever had. The day wasn’t a special one �� just a random Sunday, one Jungkook convinced you to spend in bed. He’d held you all morning, littering small kisses on the top of your head. At some point, you’d made love, slowly, lazily, as if you had all the time in the world. Halfway through it, Jungkook had stopped, resting his forehead on yours. Against your lips, he’d whispered, “Will you still love me when I’m old and grey and grumpy?”

Back then you’d laughed, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. After, you’d replied, “You know I’ll never stop loving you.”

And as you’re kissing him right now, you hope he knows that you’ll never stop loving him.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, seeking to deepen the kiss, and you let him in. Taste the dinner in his mouth, like he’s sure to taste it in yours too. It eases the bitterness somehow, and when his large hands move to your ass, you let out a breathy sound.

He swallows it as if it’s the ambrosia of the gods, and then he pushes you back towards the counter next to the sink. The shower runs in the background as he pulls you on the counter, large hands guiding you. You instinctively spread your thighs to allow him to step closer, and then you wrap your legs around him. His hands find your cheeks again, and he kisses you fervently, hungrily, yet his touch remains gentle on your cheeks, thumbs swiping back and forth.

When oxygen becomes needed, both for you and him, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You think we can wait after the shower?” he teases, and this time it has a little bit of the usual bite.

It only hurts, because now you’re not so sure he’s aware of what’s to come. He probably only thought that it was awkward because of the distance – physical. Not because the end is coming. So you let him believe it, agree to take a shower.

You let him wash your hair, a thing he’s taken to doing six years ago whenever you take a shower together. Something about him liking the scent of your shampoo. After that, you let him wash your back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it for him. To your relief, he admits he took a shower before he napped, to wash away the airplane vibes off him. So it mostly goes unnoticed, and then you’re getting out of the shower. You barely have time to dry yourself before he’s pulling you to your room, to your shared bed.

To the bed where you’ve cried yourself to sleep every night since you’ve made your decision.

He sits you on the bed, thumbs swiping on your cheeks gently when he bends down to peck your lips once.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You watch him leave, thinking you should find it funny that he’s butt-naked, as you are. Yet you don’t laugh, just put a hand over your aching heart as you wait for him to come back. It hurts even more when he comes back with your heating pad, a tentative smile on his lips.

“I thought this might help,” he says as he walks over to you, offering it to you.

You look at it, not knowing what to do. “Why?”

“Aren’t you…” he trails off, motioning towards you. “I don’t know, you’ve been weird. Thought you might be on your period, or having cramps?”

He’s too sweet. Too caring. Why can’t he be like this when he’s away too?

“Oh,” you let out. “I’m not.”

He looks puzzled, and his eyes drop to the heating pad in his hands. “Oh. Do you…” He gestures with the heating pad, but you shake your head no. He looks disappointed, and he puts it on the dresser before coming to sit next to you.

There’s a moment of silence, and you glance at the TV on the wall. The black screen reflects the grey light from the rainy world outside, and you turn to look out the window next. The rain is still relentless, and the trees outside look greener, darker, though that might be because the sun set behind the clouds, and night is slowly taking over the world.

Being with Jungkook has never been awkward before, and you hate that it is right now. You’d wish for one last moment, for a memory to treasure, but now you think you might have just been selfish.

He glances at you, pulling at his piercing. “Did something happen with your mother?”

He’s trying. So hard. Doesn’t he feel the distance between you and him?

“No,” you reply.

As a matter of fact, you only talk to your mother three times a year now. Without fault, she calls on Christmas and your birthday, and five years ago you’ve started calling on hers too. Other than that, you barely even text.

“Then…” he trails off before shrugging. “Whatever. Do you want to sleep or should we watch something?”

“Can we watch a studio Ghibli movie?”

Jungkook glances at the Totoro plushie, nestled in the pillows at the head of the bed right next to Appa. “My neighbor Totoro?” You nod once. He offers you a smile, nodding his head too. “Sure. As long as I get to hold you.”

You worry at your lip, though you still say, “Yes.”

A minute later you’re nestled in his embrace, and he’s starting the movie on the TV. You barely can focus though, mind zeroing in on his naked skin against yours. You want to ask him to stop with his overseas job, to come home permanently, to build a future with you here, without distance between you and him. You want to tell him you love him so much it hurts, want to tell him the months away from him are killing you.

All you do is watch the movie as if in a daze, and halfway through it, you tilt your head to look up at him. He sees you looking, and his tongue darts to his piercing as he glances down.

Your eyes go to his lips, and you reach to steal a kiss on them. This time, it’s incredibly slow, painfully so, and his arm tightens around you as his breath gets caught up in his throat.

You rest a hand on his cheek, before sliding it to the nape of his neck to keep him as close as you possibly can. He turns his head to deepen the kiss, and you turn the other way as you push your tongue in his mouth. You gently tug at the hair on the back of his neck, appreciating its silky softness.

Committing it to memory. Remembering when it was so long he could tie it back in a small ponytail, remembering when he cut it shorter for the first time. You’d teased him saying that he was a stranger, and you reckon you’d take that stranger back again.

You’d take the sweet innocence of the third year of your relationship again over what it now is.

Once, you thought you’d always want to see the end. To be able to glance back on the past, to swim in the nostalgia of the memories that it holds. Today, as the end comes, you realize you were wrong.

There’s no beauty in the ending.

Jungkook moves until he’s hovering over you, between your legs. You wrap them around his dainty waist, and you pull him inevitably closer as your hands run in his hair, while his hold him up on each side of your face. It takes him a few seconds, but soon he leans on his elbow, and one of his hands lands on the top of your head while the other moves to cup your breast.

He squeezes gently, fingers expertly pinching your nipple the way he knows that you like it. You moan softly, desperately, and he does it harder as his tongue meets yours.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he says as he pulls away, and then he’s littering hot kisses on your jaw, and on your neck. He sucks a hickey on the spot that connects your shoulder to your neck, and then laps at it to ease the sting. He’s still pinching your nipple, and though it hurts you just want more.

He doesn’t disappoint. His kisses move lower, until he’s sucking on your other breast, tongue circling your nipple as it hardens in his mouth. He flicks it once, make sure it’s perched nicely on your chest before he moves to the other one, repeating the action.

Your core heats up with need, but even this demonstration of the passion between you and him doesn’t do anything against the ache of your heart. The pain wins, and you shut your eyes tightly in an attempt to focus on the sensations. To focus on him as he moves lower, slowly, pressing wet kisses on your stomach, down to your pelvis, and then on the inside of your thigh as he pushes your leg on his shoulder.

“I want you,” he murmurs between your legs, as if he’s speaking the words directly to your pussy.

“I want you too.”

That much isn’t a lie. You do want him, all of him, even though you’re aware it’s going to be the last time. So you try to disconnect mind and body, and the moment he sucks on your clit you think you succeed.

You lose your hand in the strands of his hair, tugging as his tongue starts a hellish rhythm on your clit, never once faltering as you squirm under the ministrations. When your juice is coating his chin – which you reckon doesn’t take long – he moves lower, dipping his tongue inside of you.

“So sweet,” he praises once he pulls away, just enough for you to feel his lips moving as he speaks.

“Kook…”

The nickname barely crosses the threshold of your lips, yet the grip he has on your waist, where his hands have found a home, tightens. The only indication that somewhere behind his lustful gaze, Jungkook is aching too.

“Baby…” he says back, and then he returns to press figure-eight on your clit, though this time he pushes a finger inside of you.

It curls to hit the right spot inside of you, and he slowly rubs against it, before he decides better and starts to finger you, slowly. Digit moving in and out, keeping that right arch to make you see stars in no time.

When he adds a second finger, you tug on his hair, hard. Mostly by reflex, but when he meets your gaze as you look down at him, you pull harder. His fingers remain deep inside of you as he meets your lips for a heated kiss that tastes like you, and your hand blindly aims for his dick.

He’s rock hard, as he always is when you fuck for the first time after he’s been away. You sigh in satisfaction, thumb collecting precum on his tip that you spread on his dick. Instinctively, he bucks his hips as you start jerking him off, with the tight grip you know he likes, and you make sure to flick your wrist when you go back up.

He grunts against your lips, and his fingers start to move inside of you again. You don’t know when they stopped, but you know that he’s grown impatient now, and he’s unforgiving. When he pushes his thumb against your clit so that he can rub it at the same time, you moan unashamedly loud, another sound that he swallows like a man starved while his lips move against yours.

You time your ministration on his dick to those of his fingers on you, and soon enough a knot forms at the pit of your stomach. It grows impossibly tight impossibly quickly, and when Jungkook moans in your mouth you lose it, the knot uncoiling as your orgasm finds you.

He fucks you with his fingers through the high, through every wave of your orgasm, your legs shaking as he keeps going until you squirt.

“Good girl,” he praises as you cry out his name, your grip on his dick growing tighter. It has to hurt, but obviously Jungkook likes pain, so he only bucks his hips, seeking for friction.

It brings you back to the present, to this bed, and you return to jerking him off as his fingers leave you empty. He brings them to your mouth, makes you lick them clean until he’s satisfied and pulls them away. He kisses you, languidly, and your tongue dance with his as he grunts from a particularly skilled flick of your wrist.

“I want to suck you,” you say in between kisses, and he doesn’t let you do it for a time.

He’s too focused on your mouth, and you reckon you want him to keep going at it. To trap you in this moment with him, so that it may never end.

So that you may never have to break up with him.

“Can I fuck you first?” he asks, bucking his hips once more. “I want to feel your tight pussy swallowing my cock.”

“I want to suck you,” you insist as he’s sucking a new hickey on your neck.

He pulls away, meets your gaze with a lazy smile on his lips. “Well then of course.”

In another world his comment would have made you laugh, but the only thing it does is make you push him until he’s lying on his back and you’re kneeling next to him.

You look down at his dick. It’s just as pretty as you’ve always thought it was, with the brownish base to the tip that’s currently flushed red with arousal. Precum makes it glisten in the dim light from the world outside, and you let a blob of spit fall on it to add some lubrication to your jerking off.

When you feel ready, you bend down to lick a stripe along his dick, from base to top, following the thick vein. He groans, and he puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail so he can watch as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

The taste of his salty precum fills your mouth, and you hum in contentment. You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking hard once before teasing his frenulum with your tongue. Your free hand moves between his legs, and you grab his balls, massaging them gently.

They’re already tight, and you know he’ll come if you suck him for too long. You still can’t resist, and you take him as far as you can, swallowing around him so he can feel your throat constricting on him. It makes him moan out your name, which in turns makes you moan against him.

“Fuck, baby,” he lets out.

You move up until almost just his tip is in your mouth, before going all the way in once more. And then you start bobbing you head up and down in a quicker fashion as you drool on your chin, your spit coating his dick.

You squeeze his balls once, not daring to do it for longer than a few seconds. You don’t want him to come, so you let go soon after, hand moving to his thigh. You find the hard knot of his scar, and you lightly trace it with your fingers, almost instinctively.

Another part of him that you want to commit to memory. His scars – they made him into the person that was right for you. You hate that distance undid it, wish you could turn back time but alas it’s impossible.

So you focus on his dick, moving your hand away from the scars. He doesn’t let you suck him for a lot longer. Soon, he pulls you away by the hair, bringing you to his mouth instead. You kiss him as you climb on top of him, and right as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, you grab his dick to align it with your entrance.

Even though he fingered you before, he still stretches you as you sink on him, and you let out a broken moan as you dig your nails in his shoulder, where your other hand has been holding you up since you climbed on him.

You sink down until he’s fully imbedded inside of you, and then you rest your hands flatly on his chest, feeling the muscles of his pecs under your palms. You meet his gaze, hating how he’s looking at you carefully. For a moment, you both don’t move, taking the other in, and you’re struck with the realization that maybe he does know. Because his eyes are infinitely sad, infinitely pained, but when he blinks you think you might have imagined it.

You’re going crazy. You used to be able to read him like the back of your hand, but it seems the pain in your heart is keeping you from doing so, from picking up the book where you left off. Perhaps because you’ve gone blind, or maybe you forgot how to read altogether.

Jungkook feels like a stranger.

“Baby,” he lets out.

“Jungkook…”

He wets his lips, and then brings you closer. Forces you to bend down until he’s wrapped his arms around your waist. He starts moving, incredibly slow, and says, “I just want you close.”

It hurts too bad, and you hide your face in his neck. He tightens his grip around you, and after that all that can be heard in the room is your heavy breathing, mingling with the sound of the TV.

He feels healing, as much as he’s breaking you. Or you’re breaking yourself, you don’t know anymore. You wish to stop time, to interrupt the chronology of it, until all that’s left is this moment in time.

You know you can’t.

Jungkook doesn’t stop moving for a long time, as you let out breathy sounds against his neck. He’s not grunting anymore – you don’t think you or he are enjoying this, right now.

“I really want to suck your dick,” you murmur against his neck, lips tickling him.

“You’re not into this.”

Of course he’d sense it. You wrap your arms around his neck as he slips out of you, and you refuse to move for a little eternity.

“I’m okay,” you lie.

“Stop saying that you are,” Jungkook answers, and his voice has taken a cold tone. Maybe because he’s freezing – you don’t think he’d purposefully speak to you like that. “I know you aren’t.”

“Kook…”

He says your name, a loving plea that could have changed the ending, if the months hadn’t passed.

“We need to talk,” you breathe against his neck.

You think you hear his heart breaking. Like a car wreck: it’s so loud you don’t think you’ll make it out of the crash. Only, he did get out of it once – you can only hope he’ll get out again.

He runs his hand on your back, loses it in your hair. He’s gentle, infinitely so, tracing your body to remember you by when you’re gone. At least that’s what you think it is.

“Yeah?” he lets out with a small, quivering voice.

A tear spills from your eye, falling onto the soft skin of his neck.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He holds you tighter, turning his face so that he can press a kiss to the side of your head. It’s a desperate move – it holds the weight of the universe.

“I…”

He never finishes the sentence. His words are lost to him, and you steel yourself for the glimpse you’ll give him. And when you do, you see his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I can’t do the distance anymore,” you tell him.

He nods once. “I’m staying until November.”

He blurs behind your tears, and they roll down your cheeks freely. You don’t try to dry them, and neither does he.

“But then you’ll go again.”

He doesn’t need to say anything to that, because you both know it to be the truth. His reply is physical: his arms let go of you, falling on the bed on each side of him.

You move to sit next to him, instinctively grabbing a blanket to hide yourself. Jungkook shuts his eyes before pressing the heel of his palms against his eyelids. As if that’ll stop him from crying, from shattering into thousands of little shards that will go by the wind.

The end has come. It’s upon you, it’s right this instant in time. You think you’ll forever hate this moment – will you ever recover?

“It’s just better for both of us,” you say, your voice breaking into a sob on the last words. You wish you could be stronger, but you break too hard for him. “It’s been so hard and… we both don’t try anymore.”

“I’m staying until November,” he repeats. He sounds choked, and when he pushes himself up, allowing you a glimpse of his face again, you see that he too is crying. “Please.”

“Kook…”

“No but…” he stops, laughs a laugh that turns into a sob. “I tried.”

“You didn’t.”

Maybe he did. Maybe to him he did, but it wasn’t what you needed.

“You don’t get to tell me I didn’t,” he says and he scoffs, pain laced with his next words. “When I tried, you were the one that was unavailable.”

Because you were already done then, you realize. It’s a startling realization, and you wish it wasn’t real. But it is, as real as the rain lashing at the window, as the agony in Jungkook’s gaze.

His doe eyes are pained, tormented, and you wish you could ease it. Comfort him, but you’re the source of the torture now.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to say.

He looks at you for a time, holds your crying eyes, and then he loses it, hiding his face in his hands as sobs rock through him. You’re shaking like a leaf where you’re sitting, and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“We can make it work,” he tries.

You’re shaking your head no, sobs racking through you too, when he glances at you. “We can’t. We tried, Kook. We tried and it didn’t work.”

“It’s the distance,” he says. He dries his cheeks, sniffles hard. “What if I drop the job?”

“It’s your dream,” you remind him. “Don’t.”

“I don’t give a shit about this dream if it means losing you,” he insists.

Your expression is apologetic, and suddenly your eyes clear up. Too much – the clarity in your mind feels dizzying.

“It’s too late.”

The words fall like a meteorite – you think they hit harder than the one that killed the dinosaurs, millions of years ago. They hit him so hard you think they disperse the pieces of his heart to the four corners of the Earth.

You want to be selfish, you want to keep a piece of him for yourself, to remember him by, but you let him go. You have to, if you want to make it out alive.

“Come on,” he pleads. “We’ve been through so much…”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “I know.”

There’s finality in your voice, and he hears it just as well as you do. You think he’ll fight more – Jungkook never backs down from a challenge – but to your surprise he goes incredibly still.

“Nothing I can do or say will make you stay, huh?”

You shut your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He goes cold then – like hell. Empty, freezing over, and he steps out of bed to grab some clothes in his luggage that he’s yet to unpack. You watch him, watch the last tears on his cheeks falling as he bends down. No new ones join them – he’s retracted somewhere inside of himself, probably in an attempt to protect himself. You’re not sure he’s aware of the coping mechanism, but you can recognize it.

He was in that same place when you met him again the year after his accident, before you started dating. Once, he told you that you were the one to rescue him from it.

Who will rescue him now?

You start crying again, and you force yourself to get out of bed. To grab some clothes as he’s zipping his luggage after getting dressed.

“Stop,” you tell him. “I already have plans to go stay with Bridget and Heather.”

He stops moving, and then slowly gets up. He glances at the door of the bedroom. Bam is looking through the small gap, and he gently pushes on the door to open it wider.

“What about the dog?” Jungkook asks, sounding so detached you can barely recognize him.

It breaks you even more. You’re selfish – you wish he’d fight more. You wish he’d convince you to stay, but now he looks like he doesn’t even care anymore.

You probably deserve it.

“You can keep him,” you say, as you struggle to put your clothes on, hands trembling so much it makes you lose your fine motricity. “When you-“ A sob breaks the sentence. “When you leave again I can take him in.”

Jungkook nods, and then he glances towards the television. The movie is still playing, yet it’s nearing the end now.

Everything comes to an end.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses loudly, and he moves to the bed, grabbing the remote so he can turn the TV off. He then looks at the bed. “You’re leaving with those?”

“Jungkook…”

“You’re fucking leaving with them?”

He’s motioning to Totoro and Appa, and you cry some more as you nod. “Okay. Yes. I’ll come back later for the rest.”

“Okay.”

There’s an immense silence then, as you finish putting your clothes on. As you go to the closet, where you’ve already packed a duffel bag with stuff for a week. Jungkook scoffs when he sees it, and it almost makes your legs give out under you.

“You weren’t going to give me a chance, were you?” he asks bitterly, reproachfully.

“My decision was made,” you answer with a small voice. “I just… it’s too hard.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You know Jungkook often hurts others when he himself is in pain. It’s something he said he didn’t want to do anymore, a side of him he told you he hates. You’re not surprised to see it come to the surface right now – you don’t think he’s ever gotten his heart broken like this before.

So you’re not surprised when he adds, “We should have broken up when we fought on the phone. Because why was I so fucking stupid to think you still loved me?”

Your heart breaks. It’s been breaking, but now it’s different. Burning, throbbing pain takes over the beating organ, and you struggle to breathe. The air is boiling in your lungs, and it’s so fierce you feel it in every inch of your body.

“I do,” you tell him. “It’s not because I don’t love you…”

He laughs. He bursts out laughing, and it’s a little crazed, a little scary. “Right. Yeah. Tell that to yourself.”

In that instant, you remember when you’d told him you loved him for the first time. At his art exhibit, choked on emotions you thought you’d always know. You don’t know them anymore, but he’s wrong.

You’ll always love him.

“Kook…”

“Will you fucking stop calling me that?” he asks, and he finally meets your gaze again.

“Sorry…”

He sighs loudly, tongue poking at his cheek. “Are you leaving now?”

It’s weird – the way he says it reminds you of your mother when she kicked you out years ago. It reminds you of the early days with Jungkook and you don’t think you can move. You’re stuck in the spot where you’re standing, watching him as he watches you.

When his gaze breaks and he lets out, “Please”, you finally start moving.

First to the bed, to grab Appa and Totoro, and then towards the door.

You push the door open, and Bam wags his tail as you walk out. You’re crying again – you’re not sure you ever stopped – but the sight of the dog makes everything worse. Because it’s not only Jungkook you’re losing, it’s Bam too.

It’s your life. You’re losing everything that matters to you, in an attempt to save yourself. In an attempt to find something better for yourself, something that won’t ache for months at a time like being with Jungkook now does.

“Hey, Bamie,” you say, and you hold the plush toys away as he tries to bite into Appa’s paw. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You bend, and you let the dog lap at your cheek, as if he can dry your tears. When he stops to look at you curiously, head tilted to the side, you press a kiss to the top of his head. You can’t move for a time and, as if sensing it, Bam remains entirely still too.

He only moves when you stretch, and it’s to press his body against your legs, as if trying to stop you from leaving. Tears cascade down your face, and you tell him you’re sorry, too. You repeat that you’ll see him soon again, hoping that it’ll help, and then you’re walking around him. Walking towards the door, walking towards the crying world outside.

Jungkook follows behind, silent as ever, hands lost in the pockets of his sweatpants, eyes lost in the void. You put down your stuff by the door, put on a light coat and grab your keys. You store them in your coat pocket, and then head to the door, to put on your shoes.

Every step feels like lead, like death, and you just keep crying. It only stops when you meet Jungkook’s gaze, when you’re ready to leave.

Or as ready as you’ll ever be.

“So that’s it?” he asks.

“That’s it,” you agree, and you wish you didn’t. Wish those weren’t the words you said.

He nods once, looking like he’s burdened with a great fatigue. “Alright.”

You want to scream at him to say more, but he doesn’t. Only stays silent as he looks at you, doe eyes so big. His waterline is wet again, and he’s got red splotches all over his face. He’s fighting the tears this time around and you wish you’d give him a reprieve, wish you’d be able to leave but, once again, you’re rooted in your spot.

Maybe because you still have more to say.

“Thank you for…” You pause, take a deep, shaking breath in. “Thank you for the years. I had a lot of fun with you.”

“Please go.”

You nod once, and then you turn around. It occurs to you that your hands are full, and you look at the doorknob as if it’s foreign. Jungkook must have noticed, because he steps forward, his hand reaching for it.

He stills halfway there, with his arm right next to you. And then you hear him choke on a sob, and you drop what you’re holding to face him, to pull him into a hug.

You don’t know how long you cry, holding onto each other like this. Because the moment you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist, Jungkook wrapped his around your shoulders, and he hid his face in your hair.

You cry and cry, together. The last thing you’ll ever do together, you reckon. You wish it wasn’t the case, wish the ending was still at the end a very long road, but it’s come short tonight and it’s too late to stop now.

You break against him, holding him. He’s shaking in your arms, as much as you’re shaking in his. Both of you trembling leaves in the wake of your end. And then you fall to your demise, carried away by the wind.

You don’t know when you let go of him. Only come to your senses when you’re in bed, sometime between dusk and dawn, away from him.

You’re never going to hold him again.

Teaser | Next

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Pain. I'm crying again from rereading one last time before posting. Please don't hate me oop- let me know what you think of the fic! Did we like it, even though it hurts? All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

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[live-laugh-neteyam]

And Everything In Between ||| neteyam x human!reader

masterlist

The Moon epilogue

Strongly recommend reading part 1 first

pairings: neteyam × human!fem!reader

summary: the moon is always there, even when we can’t see it

words: 1.9k

warnings/notes: slight angst, a bit of fluff, grief, death, mentions of blood, violence/battle, gunshots, scenes from the way of water depicted, a bit sad but ultimately sweet, okay so originally there wasn’t going to be a part two but I accidentally emotionally devastated a few people so I’m trying to redeem myself lol I can’t afford therapy for all of you so hopefully this will do

The sun shown through the entrance of his tent causing Neteyam to stir in his sleep. Groaning he rolled over trying to delay waking up for as long as possible. Instinctively reaching out he went to pull you into his chest. But there was nothing but empty space beside him.

That’s when he opened his eyes. Neteyam was met with your vacant spot. For a moment panic coursed through his veins, but then he remembered. You were gone.

Sighing he ran a hand over his face trying not to cry. Every now and then he had moments were he forgot. A split second where you were alive and well. His mind dancing around with the ghost of you. Until he remembered that it was all a lie. No matter how hard he tried not to, he always remembered.

Your heart stopped and his won’t shut off. It had been months since your death and Neteyam still wasn’t sure how to live on without you. How does one move on after finding the person that made them complete?

Neteyam took comfort in the fact that you were with Eywa now, but being human you were never able to connect with the spirit tree. He wouldn’t be able to see you again until he joined the great mother himself.

Memories of you were starting to become fuzzy. He was having trouble remembering the sound of your voice. The sound of your laugh. He hated himself for it.

Nothing would heal the wound of your loss. Your death gutted Neteyam. Ripping his heart out and taking it with you. As months past he felt more and more hollow. Time wasn’t soothing him like everyone said it would. Time without you only made him feel worse.

“You can talk to me. You know that right?” Kiri asked her brother. She eyed him worriedly.

“There is nothing to say.” Neteyam answered without emotion.

She sighed. Kiri knew there was nothing she could say to him to ease the hurt. She had been consoling Spider ever since your passing. It was something neither of them would recover from.

“Have you seen Spider lately?”

“No.”

“Well maybe you should. Maybe talking to him would help. He lost his sister-“

“Y/N is dead.” Neteyam snapped. “There is nothing to talk about. Nothing will change that.” He coldly spoke.

Neteyam felt guilty for the harshness of his words. He also felt guilt because he hadn’t even thought about how Spider was doing. Neteyam was so lost in his selfish grief he never once thought about the other people who loved you.

Kiri sighed getting up to leave. She wouldn’t keep wasting her time talking to the brick wall that was her brother. “It doesn’t have to be me. It doesn’t have to be Spider. But you should talk to someone.”

The one person he wanted to talk to wasn’t there. Sighing he looked up at the moon and thought of you.

After months of close calls with the sky people Jake made the decision to leave the clan. The people would be safe if they left since Quaritch was only after Jake.

Neteyam didn't have anything to say about leaving home. He packed up and left doing exactly what his father asked of him.

Jake prayed that the move would not only keep his family safe but also help Neteyam. Maybe the change of scenery would lift his spirits. The Olo'eyktan knew the loss of a mate was unbearable, but it broke his heart to see his son a shell of who he once was.

Neteyam stuck mostly to himself. He didn’t want to cause trouble amongst the Metkayina clan. He also just didn’t have the energy to pretend. To pretend he was happy. Pretend to be enjoying his lessons. None of it mattered to him anymore.

There was a part of him that wanted Eywa to take him now. He wouldn’t mind dying if it meant seeing you again. He didn't think he could ever move on.

Knowing that wasn't what you would've wanted for him filled him with shame. Neteyam knew you were still there somewhere; like the moon during the day is always there, even when we can't see it. The idea of you being disappointed in him broke the remaining shards of his heart.

So he tried his best to live the way you would've wanted. Taking walks along the beach thinking of how you would've loved to see this. Neteyam could picture your beautiful eyes full of wonder discovering every new experience. The idea of it put a small smile on his face.

Neteyam started taking his lessons with the Metkayina seriously. He found comfort in the breathing exercises, using them more to calm his anxious heart than to swim.

Finally settling into his new life, Neteyam felt like he could be happy with the Metkayina. But that feeling didn't last long. It seemed like every time he found happiness it was ripped away from him.

Quaritch had found them. Before Neteyam knew it he was in the middle of a battle on the water. Racing his Ilu towards the ship he swiftly hopped aboard. He made quick work of freeing his siblings from their restraints.

“Let’s go.” He commanded them, ready to get everyone to safety.

“We have to go back for Spider.” Lo’ak insisted.

The last thing Neteyam wanted was to go back. Letting out a growl he nodded heading into the ship along with Lo'ak. Neteyam had to go back not just for Spider but for you. He couldn't just leave your brother with the enemy.

The pair swiftly took out the guards that held Spider captive. Neteyam was leading them out when Lo'ak stopped to pick up a gun.

Neteyam saw an avatar stalking towards them ready to shoot. “Give me that!” He hissed ripping the gun from Lo’ak’s grasp.

“Go!” Neteyam roared pushing his brother towards the ledge of the boat. Lo’ak hesitated watching his brother prepare to shoot. Without wasting any more time Spider grabbed Lo’ak’s arm and pulled him overboard.

Pulling the trigger he shot without any real aim. Neteyam was just hoping to hold them off long enough to escape. Throwing the gun to the ground he leapt over the railing.

A warm shooting feeling filled his chest. Neteyam brushed it off to adrenaline. Struggling to reach the surface in the water he placed a hand over his chest. A stabbing pain erupted through him. Looking down he saw red seeping out of a bullet hole in his chest.

Barely holding his head above the water he could make out the faint noise of Lo’ak and Spider celebrating. “I’ve been shot.” Neteyam croaked out attempting to apply pressure to his wound.

Fading in and out of consciousness he faintly registered Lo’ak pulling him onto his Ilu. Lo’ak and Spider lifted him up onto the first rock they came to.

“Dad help!” Lo’ak yelled on the verge of tears. “It’s Neteyam. He’s hurt.”

Jake’s eyes widen in horror watching his oldest son bleed out. After carefully laying him down he turned him over to inspect the wound. The bullet had went through.

Jake grit his teeth with tears in his eyes. Neteyam was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Neteyam could make out the screams of his mother as she dismounted her Ikran. His breath became labored as he desperately tried to suck in air.

He watched his family circle around him crying. They were waiting for him to die. Helplessly watching him as he bled out.

“I want to go home.” He breathed staring up at his family.

“I know.” Jake said through tears. “We’re gonna go home.”

Neteyam thought of home. He thought of you. It didn’t matter where he was physically you were his home. Smiling through the pain his mind filled with memories of you.

A sense of calm washed over him. Neteyam was no longer in fear of death. He wanted to let his family know he’d be okay, that soon he’d be with you. But his throat was closing in. His lungs unable to take in the air they needed.

“Dad I-“ he tried to speak quickly fading out.

Looking up to the sky is was eclipse. Night had become his favorite time. He would look up to the moon and think of you. Neteyam hoped to catch one last glance of the moon.

Chest falling for the last time his vision turned dark. He wasn’t afraid of death. Not when he knew the moon would guide him home.

Opening his eyes Neteyam was met with a blinding white light. The last thing he remembered was laying on that rock.

"Neteyam." A familiar voice called to him.

He stood up trying to take in his surroundings. He was somewhere in the forest back home. Running a hand along his chest he noticed the bullet wound was gone.

"Ma'Teyam." The voice again. He knew that voice.

It couldn't be could it?

Turning around he was met with you. The you before you fell ill. Your eyes were practically glowing, your face lit up with a smile.

"Y/N?" He croaked before running towards you on his wobbly legs.

Falling to his knees he pulled you into his embrace. Neteyam squeezed you tight as if you'd vanish into thin air if he didn't.

"Is it you?" He cried. "Is this real?"

"Oh Ma'Teyam." You coo, gingerly holding his head in your arms. "It's real. I'm right here."

"Don't leave me again." His body shaking in sobs.

"Mawey, love. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here." Gently running your fingers through his braids.

"I've missed you. So much." Neteyam choked out. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

You placed a kiss on the top of his head. "I missed you too."

Looking up at you he tried to calm his breathing. You were here. You were safe. You were alive. Cupping your face in his heads he pulled you to his lips capturing you in a kiss.

You kissed him back and Neteyam felt his heart soar. This was real. He finally felt at peace; holding his entire world in his arms. You were his moon, his stars, and everything in between.

"I thought I told you to take your time skxáwng." You giggled.

"Can't help it." He mumbled against your lips. "I love you to the moon and back. I'll always come back to you."

Smiling you pulled him closer for another kiss. Neteyam had dreamt of this moment ever since your death. You were finally his again and he was never letting you go.

"Come on. Let me show you around." You giggled before pecking his lips one last time.

Without missing a beat he took your hand in his. Neteyam never wanted to lose physical contact with you again.

Taking a deep breath he smiled as silent tears streamed down his face. In the presence of the great mother, Neteyam felt a calmness like he had never felt before. Finally he was at peace with you by his side.

Neteyam smiled as you lead him through the paradise like forest. You happily babbled about everything you had discovered. He was ready to spend forever with you. Never to be parted again.

You were here, holding his hand. There is no death. Only change.

taglist:

@ilovejakesullysdick @fanboyluvr @athenalikethegoddess @loverofallthingsfandom @forasgaard @plzfeedmebread @instabull @ms5m1th @avatarappreciationblog @romimiux @ferrtan @tammitammytime @eternallyvenus @dreamyescapesfromreality @dvxsja @mahalkomarvel @vallie-caramel

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 4 - MONTH 3 - GROWING PAINS

First - Prev - Next

Everything hurts.

I started noticing it about two weeks after my first dose. It felt like a dull headache at first, but over the next month it spread to pretty much my entire body.

I had to start working from home, and eventually it got bad enough that I could only put in a few hours of work each day. My boss is a reasonable enough guy, but he wasn't going to pay a full time salary for part time hours, so I had to take a salary cut.

Luckily, my partner is around to take care of daily errands, not to mention being there to reassure and comfort me when the pain gets bad. They've been thinking about seeing if Lindwurm HRT is a thing, but they don't want to get the process started until I'm in the clear and can take care of myself again.

Gods I love them.

The reason the pain is happening, as best I can tell, is that my skeletal structure is already changing. I've gotten at least an inch taller, and my face has been reshaping into a feline muzzle. My teeth are getting sharper, and I'm developing proper fangs. I also noticed a little while ago that my fingernails and toenails had receded into their respective digits, which sucks for two reasons - I can't paint fingernails I don't have, and they are sore as HELL when I put any amount of pressure on them. I have to be REALLY careful with how I type to not inflict agony on myself. I'm also feeling my tail growing in, and even if it hurts, it's euphoric as HELL. A tail was always the part I wanted most out of this.

It's weird, the skeletal changes weren't supposed to happen this early. I've been trying to reach Dr. Erian about it, but he's constantly busy, probably because of the sudden surge of people looking for Humanity Removal Therapy.

Other than that, I've been getting areas of white and black fur coming in - mostly on my arms and legs, but a little bit on my face and ears - ears that are gradually reshaping and migrating. Nothing to report on hearing sensitivity, but I think my night vision is getting better.

I did a little bit of looking around for anyone with similar pain experiences. I got my hopes up when I found a girl, Antonina, who had a painful experience with Cat HRT, but it turns out it's because she took the rumoured Fifteen Minute version. She described the pain as "like bathing in an active volcano".

It leaves me wondering whether I would have preferred a 15-minute lava bath over a months-long full-body headache.

I ended up reaching out to her anyway, just because I wanted to know what I was in for in the endgame and feline HRT is rarer than I thought it would be. Sounds like the prey drive is the real deal - she keeps feeling the urge to bite this one girl who's on mouse HRT.

We've been spending some time comparing notes and getting to know each other. It's nice to know someone else who's going through this thing, even if our experiences aren't exactly one-to-one.

I also talked to my mother for the first time in nearly a year. I went No Contact with her a while back because she was only getting more obnoxious and combative about me being trans, but I figured changing my species is a big enough deal that I should keep her in the loop.

Besides, my savings had nearly dried up and I needed to ask her for money.

It… did not go well. She hadn't heard of therian HRT before, and once I explained it, she started panicking about how I'm "mutilating my body" with "untested treatments". I think I also heard her cry something about how her "son" is "killing himself", which is just multiple layers of insensitive.

At least she sent me some money. Hopefully it'll be enough to last until my transformation stops being agonizing and I can go back to work, and then I can go right back to pretending my family doesn't exist.

At roughly the three-month mark, I have a check-in video call with Dr. Erian. From the moment his face appears on screen, though, I can tell something is wrong. He seems… older, somehow.

"Hello, Miss Alexis.", he offers. He sounds tired. Sorrowful, even.

"Hey, doc." I have to ask about it. "Everything okay? You seem a bit tired."

"Nothing to worry about Miss Alexis, just the ordinary stresses of daily life."

Liar. I know I'm not entitled to details of your personal life, much less your professional secrets, but I know when something is eating at someone.

"…Does the word 'crossroads' mean anything to you, Miss Alexis?"

Huh? That came a bit out of left field. "I've… heard some other therian HRT patients use the term, but I don't know much of the details. Something about a point of no return?"

"Something of the sort." He lowers his head and seems to go from sorrowful to downright grim. "There will come a time, Miss Alexis, when you will have to make a very important decision in your care, and I ask that you do so with great consideration for the consequences."

I recoil a little in my seat. "Yeah… Of course I will. Any decision I make, even reaching out to you in the first place, I don't take it lightly."

"Good… That's good." His demeanor shifts back to his stoic, clinical self. I don't know what just happened, but he went somewhere for a moment there.

"Now then, I did receive your messages, I apologize for not getting back to you. You mentioned you were experiencing persistent and debilitating whole-body soreness?"

"Yeah. I can't even leave the apartment most days, it hurts so much."

"Odd… You are taking the treatment as directed, yes?"

"Of course. One tablespoon a week, just like it says on the bottle."

I see his eyes twitch behind his glasses. Did I say something wrong?

"…Teaspoon."

I cock my head to the side. "Say again?"

"You mean one TEASPOON a week, yes?"

I feel my heart sink. The dark smear on the dosage information… I could have sworn it said '1 tbsp/week'.

"…Could you hold on a second please?" I mute the mic and call out to my partner to bring the bottle of tiger HRT over. When they do, I unmute and hold it up to the webcam. I hear Dr. Erian take a sharp intake of breath as he notices the obscured instructions.

I set the bottle aside and the two of us share an awkward silence.

"So…", I begin. "…How bad is it?"

"The good news", he offers slowly, "is that you have only been taking three times the prescribed dose. An increased dose imbalances the growth rate of the different parts of your body, hence your pain and persistent weakness, but it could have been much worse."

I think back to the so-called Fifteen Minute version, and Antonina's description of it - like bathing in an active volcano.

Dr. Erian continues. "Assuming you return to a CORRECT dose, your growth rates will gradually level out over the course of the next month or so. It is my medical opinion that you should maintain a low-activity lifestyle until then, but you will eventually be able to return to your typical activity level, and you will also find that the physical effects become more… consistent."

"That's… reassuring. Thank you, doctor." I pause. Something I noticed a little while ago has been weighing on my mind. "There's one thing, though - do the treatments have… I guess you'd call them restorative or regenerative effects? I've noticed some old wounds aren't there anymore."

The doctor clicks his pen and brings up his notepad. "Interesting. Do go on, Miss Alexis."

"Well… I used to get lower back pain from a car crash injury I got a little over a year ago, but I haven't noticed it at all lately. Pretty much the only part that DOESN'T hurt… There also used to be some marks on my arm from a cat biting me when I was little." I give a slight smile. "The cat's name was Tiger, go figure."

Dr. Erian is writing the whole time I'm talking. "Yes, that is to be expected. Minor persistent injuries will fade over time as your body re-forms itself to a new baseline, even severe chronic symptoms may fade. If there are no other concerns…"

"Just one… Most of the other therian HRT patients I've talked to have gotten their meds as pills, so what's with the potion bottle?"

Dr. Erian pauses, and adjusts his glasses nervously, as if he's been caught out on something he doesn't want to admit to. "Well… advances in the field are occurring rapidly, and you are one of the more recent patients, so a more… streamlined option was available to you. I took the liberty of choosing the most compatible option based on your medical records, and that bottle is it."

"Okay… But what's IN it?"

"The active ingredients are antihominidone, which is your humanity-blocker, and a specialized formula of felistrogen, infused with white tiger genetic material. The rest of the fluid is a suspension used to dilute the effects, without which you would be looking at a short, but excruciating and potentially lethal process."

The Fifteen Minute version, I think to myself. I'm taking diluted Fifteen Minute meds. There's no WAY this isn't experimental, and I'M the experiment. I despise saying it, but maybe my mother was right to worry.

"But I'm afraid I really do have to go, Miss Alexis, my next appointment is waiting."

"G-gotcha. See ya, doctor."

---

Special thanks to @paintedbytosia for letting me write her in, and shoutout to @megamoonerjenny for coming up with 'antihominidone'

[brucewaynehater101]

I hc Damian sees dick as more of a father then Bruce, my reasoning is that when Bruce was dead, dick was there for him and Damian already mourned that father and accepted dick as his dad.

and since in my brain Bruce causes most of the issues between the brothers, in a au where Bruce wasn’t rescued all the bats are happy and friendly to each other, dick is the older brother who’s basically their dad, Jason who’s very caring yet also insists he’s not (he has anger issues as well), Tim who can’t seem to fully grasp how much everyone cares for him but it’s getting better, and Damian who actually acts his age and not like a 20 year old man with murder problems (he still has murder issues but dicks made him realize that’s wrong)

There was probably quite a bit of an adjustment period in the beginning. When siblings are faced with a change in dynamics so that they need to rely upon each other instead of being pitted against one another, there tend to be big blowups and fights until they get the hang of things.

In this AU, it would be a bit hard to wrangle all the batkids into getting along. Does Tim never find that portrait that starts his search? Did Bruce actually die? Does Alfred find the portrait first and burn it so his family can finally be free (very ooc, but a cool concept)?

Tim finding out Bruce is alive is like a match near gasoline for him. He destroys all of his current relationships (justified or not) to save his dad.

There's also the grief aspect. The Battle of the Cowl could be seen as just the kids trying to find footing with the changes and the grief of loosing their dad.

It doesn't matter how much of a bastard Bruce is in this AU, the kids will still grieve his loss. If he was just unredeemable, they wouldn't have hung on so much. It doesn't matter how much Bruce hits them, verbally abuses them, manipulates, or abandons them when he turns around and acts like a good dad. He has good moments. That's the confusing and complicated aspect of it.

Bruce is the type of man to remember a fact his kids mentioned once off-handedly and distracted. He'd remember when they mentioned a childhood toy they loved but could never find again. He would spend months tracking down that company and hiring them to make they toy again if they didn't have any on hand. There's so much time, effort, and money he would put into such a notion, and he wouldn't make a big deal about it. The kid would probably just find it in their room one day and know it was Bruce.

Then he would turn around and try to convince the kid that all of their friends are out to get them and they can't trust anyone.

This AU would be hard to manage because only Dick is at the stage where he would be willing to give up on his dad. With the fallout of Robin, Dick moved on from unconditional love and belief in Bruce. He went to anger and hurt. He slowly healed those pains, but they were changed. Dick couldn't go back to how they were, but ultimately still loved his dad. Jason's death shattered their relationship. Even after Tim interfered, Dick would never be able to forgive Bruce for that. In the comics, he confronted Bruce about not being told about Jason's death. Bruce's response? He screamed at Dick, hit him, told him he shoulf have never had a partner, told Dick that he would've fired Jason in a few years like he did Dick, and then told Dick to hand his keys to the Manor to Alfred on his way out.

Bruce and Dick can go to therapy for years to work on their relationship, but Dick will never trust Bruce with his siblings again. He can trust the man on a battlefield, but he can't trust him at home.

Dick's love to Bruce, I hc, would turn to apathy, longing, and bitterness intermingled with spurts of reluctant fondness.

Jason, on the other hand, is pissed at Bruce, but he has too much passion to just let him go. It's a transition stage from love to anger to indifference. Through his reactions and actions during the Battle of the Cowl, it's obvious he still cares about Bruce somewhat. The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference. If he didn't somewhat care about Bruce, his death wouldn't impact him so much. I personally feel that the incident with Penguin and Gotham Wars is where Jason starts to become indifferent instead. To hate Bruce is to want to change him. It's to want him to be better because you know he can be. To be indifferent to him (outside of horrible actions the man commits) is to know he won't change. It's to give up on him.

Jason still remembers getting ice cream on patrol, sharing popcorn on the couch, reassuring promises of protection, and the laughter he could startle out of his dad. His anger and aggression against Bruce is because he believes that his dad could kill the Joker. He had believed that Bruce would have. Regardless on whether it was the right thing to do or whether a younger version would have wanted that, Jason had faith in Bruce. He ultimately considers his father to be a good guy. Perhaps someone that hurts Jason, but still a good guy.

Dick doesn't regard his father as such. He knows better.

The other kids are still at the love stage, where they rely on Batman and Bruce to be decent and a hero.

Tim may have complicated feelings about Bruce being his dad (how credible that is especially given their history), but he trusts Bruce to make the right decisions. That gospel has been shaken a few times, but it still holds.

Damian is still a child. Capable, kind, fierce, and strong, but still a child.

Cass was given the mission of the Bat by Bruce. He has shown her love and kindness others have not. She can see what he feels and intends to do even as he hurts others. He does not kill.

Barbara has Dick's back before she has Bruce's. Barbara is independent. She does not have the confidence in Bruce that the others do.

I hope Duke is enjoying his time with his parents free from bat drama.

Anyways, I do think the Bats would be better off if Tim hadn't found proof of Bruce's continued existence (it is not his fault that Bruce returned to do horrible shit. He is not to blame). Without it, there might not have been as big of a fallout between Tim and everyone else. There would have been lots of drama and fights between the remaining Bats, but they would eventually settle into a healthier unit.

If anyone wants more about any of this, feel free to send me another ask with what parts you'd like elaborated.

[aaaawic]

no funny video for this games birthday, mostly because i dont have time, but also because this game just. means more to me compared to the first game lol

gonna put my sappy rant under the Keep Reading button. again

picture this: youre Me, an 8 year old child. its the start of 2015. unsure of the exact day or month but it was 100% before March. Wednesday, the day that my dad takes my brother to therapy while mom stays at home with me. mom is taking a nap on your room, as she usually does. youre in the living room, tablet in hand with a couple of small baskets full of pony and various animal toys. you open google, not remembering what you were going to search in the first place. an article title catches your attention.

"Infamous Horror Indie Game, Five Nights At Freddy's, Gets A Long Awaited Sequel."

you blink, not knowing what that game even is. you, instead of searching on google or even on youtube what fnaf is, you decide to go to the tablets play store and download the game yourself. the first game isnt free and you know youre not allowed to buy games, so you go and download the free demo of Five Nights At Freddy's 2.

you grab your moms old shitty phone and two ponies, an official Rarity and a McDonald's glowy Applejack and start recording your tablet with the two ponies in front, acting like theyre playing and reacting to what happens in game. due to you being only 8 years old, you dont understand what any of the texts or what the weird guy talking on the non visible phone is saying, thanks to english not being your first language. you tap everything, and once finding the cameras, you flinch and leave in fear when you go to Cam 11, the Prize Corner, where the music box plays.

a few minutes later, theres a warning symbol flashing in the corner. you freak out, you fumble, checking the vents, checking the hallway, putting on the mask. it eventually stops. in the background you can hear a faint music box version of the song Pop Goes The Weasel playing, but due to your talking you dont hear it. you then get jumpscared by The Puppet. you scream, it was a genuine scream. you feel your eyes tearing up and your heartbeat increase. you shake it out, acting like the ponies fainted as they complain about the game being too scary for them. you stop recording and move on with your day.

when bedtime comes, you start struggling to sleep. whenever you close your eyes, you can see the puppets face close to yours, and whenever you fall asleep, the face appears in your dreams, scaring you awake. this keeps going for days, maybe even a full week. you decide to try the game again, as well as search for any videos of the game. as much as youre scared, you start to be fascinated by the games, the characters, the stories. you start looking at fanart, tracing any ones you like and taking them to school, and to your surprise a few of your classmates are familiar and even Like fnaf. you start making fanart yourself, doing crossovers with mlp and fnaf, drawing ships, drawing mmd model designs on the characters. you watch countless videos, ranging from gameplays to gmod gameplays to sfm and 2d animations to mmd dancing videos to animation memes to tributes to character theme songs to headcanon voices.

the reason i draw and post my art online is thanks to this game franchise. the reason i have some of my friends is thanks to this game franchise. in reality i should be thanking the first game, but the second is So special to me. its the one i first saw, first played, first saw discussion and theories of. i was there when people were playing the trailer backwards, hearing withered foxy scream Freedom, and hearing Mike Kill All during the end of the reversed trailer. i was there when people were freaking out over the teasers, calling the Toy Animatronics as [insert fnaf character name here] 2.0. i was there when people were debating toy bonnies, mangles and the puppets gender. i was there when such iconic songs like It's Been So Long by The Living Tombstone, Five Nights At Freddy's Pt 2 by SayMaxWell, The Puppet Song by Tryhardninja, all of the [insert fnaf character name here] song by Groundbreaking, Five More Nights by JT Music, Mangled by NateWantsToBattle, and so so many more. i was there when the iconic Tony Crynight series came out.

so as much as i thank the first game for existing, i thank the second game so much more. the puppet is my favorite character for a reason (even tho it is tied with ennard lol) and the second game is my favorite for the same reason.

anyways, enough yapping. yes im gonna wish every character a happy birthday again.

happy birthday to Toy Freddy, Toy Bonnie, Toy Chica, Mangle, The Puppet, Balloon Boy, Withered Freddy, Withered Bonnie, Withered Chica, Withered Foxy, Golden Freddy, Jeremy Fitzgerald, Fritz Smith, Shadow Freddy, Shadow Bonnie, JJ and Purple Guy. happy 10 years of Five Nights At Freddy's 2.

[meandhisjohn]

News from a crazy mind...

Sherlock, mental health and the support from a fandom.

When Sherlock becomes what the doctor ordered....

100 days lie between those moments.

100 days since I wanted to die.

100 days since I emailed Dignitas.

100 days full of struggle and hope.

100 days later I made it out of hell again.

A handful of people who showed me unconditional love during the hardest setback of my disorder career.

I will love them till the day I die.

And once again the Sherlock world saved my soul before I destroyed it myself.

A fandom full of kindness and support and a detective and a doctor who saved me in more ways than they can ever imagine.

Had a doctors appointment on Friday and I have one hell of a doctor.

Not as good as John Watson but highly supportive of anything that increases my strength.

We talked about a little miracle.

A miracle that sounds so incredibly stupid but it is such a huge thing.

For the past five years I have to take besides my regular medication in mornings and in the evenings a little extra cocktail of meds in the afternoon to keep my extreme nervousness in check.

I'm nervous and tense 24/7 and it takes a toll on my body sometimes.

It makes it very hard to sleep and to find a way to sit still.

So the extra meds are necessary..

Ten days ago I started to listen to Podfics and quickly discovered a new way to enjoy the Sherlock universe.

I'm 43 years old and retired since I was 39 because my body couldn't take the stress anymore.

I have some free times during the day and I made it a habit for the past ten days to listen to Podfics in the afternoon and again at night.

And suddenly I could sleep and, and here comes the miracle..

I forgot to take my afternoon meds.

Even more my body relaxed in a way I haven't experienced in decades.

My body was obviously as surprised as I am because since a few days I have to drink a coffee in the afternoon, otherwise I would fall asleep.

I can only drink coffee without caffeine which tastes awful but otherwise my nervousness goes through the roof and I shake like a leaf.

But now instead of taking an extra dose of anxiety relief pills I take a real good old black coffee full of caffeine after listening to Podfics.

And that sounds incredibly ridiculous but for me it is a miracle because for the first time in over 15 years I feel calm and not because of a chemical reaction but because of a human reaction.

I know @totallysilvergirl had no idea what would happen by telling me about Podfics but I will never forget it!

Back to my incredible doctor who saw the change from a person who was determined to end this endless circle of depression and anxiety to a person who smiles again.

Now he ordered a six months try of daily Podfics ( no joke) to see if my blood levels improves and accordingly my medication can be reduced.

He knows that in the past three years my disorder was always better during my Sherlock highs so he is actually happy about the new development.

Long story short ( too late I know)

Do whatever feels right for you!

Invent your own therapy!

Do what makes you happy no matter how unconventional it might be.

Because you matter!!!!

I attach you my new and exciting Podfic collection for you.

Maybe you will find something you like.

Of course everything is available in Reading form as well.

Be happy in your own, weird, wonderful way.

@keirgreeneyes @discordantwords @a-victorian-girl @bewitched-bullet @lisbeth-kk @whatnext2020 @inevitably-johnlocked @barachiki @babaybo @jobooksncoffee @rey-jake-therapist @missdeliadili @helloliriels @podfixx @johnlocky @johnlockpodficclub @johnlockficclub @peanitbear @strawberrywinter4 @chocolate1elise @kettykika78

[deleteddewewted]

Supermarket Romance P3

Modern! Titus x Reader

S: His first conversation has inspired him to try and build greater connections with the people he already speaks to. His therapist is overjoyed with this development advising him that in due time he will see his anxiety dwindle as exposure is the best type of therapy. Titus is motivated and encouraged even, to pursue further socializing with you. Hopefully, this could be the start of a new connection.

W: PTSD episodes, Depression, Anxiety Disorders, Reader is a broke Artist, Titus works as an Analyst for a company, Ableist comments (From Titus and to Titus)

Previous / Next

He didn’t know why he continued to do this to himself. Guilliman had told him to buy a notepad or set reminders on his phone but Titus refused to do so. It got to the point that Guilliman bought him his very own notepad with differently formatted pages so that he could use it for whatever he needed. He once again forgot to take the notepad or write anything down in it as he was browsing the grocery store shelves searching for something he knew he needed but forgot.

His forgetfulness only grew worse with the more he remembered the conversation he had with you a few days back. He couldn’t stop himself from reliving it as it was a weird source of comfort. You didn’t frown at him or make a displeased face. You looked at im, really looked at him, and didn’t think any different about his appearance. Even his doctor at times made faces when talking about his injuries. It made it hard to live in his body at times. But you made it tolerable, at least for the moment.

He mindlessly grabbed whatever was in front of him, not even bothering to read the label or check the price as he continued to relish in the memory before being snapped out of it by his phone buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket, hoping to see a call from his doctor or Chairon but he was instead met with his boss's name. He frowned at the still-ringing phone but still answered the call reluctantly.

“Hello, Mr. Guilliman.” Titus greeted.

“For the love of everything, Demetrian. Stop calling me 'Mr. Guilliman'. I’m not just your boss, I’m your friend. Reframe from such a habit.” The younger man shouted. It never ceased to surprise Titus just how odd Guilliman was. Their age difference made this even more odd considering that Guilliman was also his superior at the office. It felt awkward to have his boss be younger than him but he guessed he couldn't complain too much as he himself was once a young Lieutenant and Captain who led men and women off all ages. Age didn't matter too much in the military if you had the ability to prove yourself capable of the work being assigned to you.

He assumed this is why Guilliman didn't stay longer in the military and didn't resign his contract. His might and his brain weren't worth being wasted in combat when it could be used for more analytical and important tasks such as leadership in the bureaucratic system they lived in. In a way, Titus was glad the younger man had left. Guilliman looked more relaxed working in an office than working in a tent in the middle of nowhere.

“I will do my best to refrain from addressing you in that way.” Titus complied.

“Good. Now, I have a question for you if you aren’t too busy.” Titus could practically hear the grin that was spreading across his boss's face.

“I’m not.” Titus began to walk down the aisle and into a new one as he spoke on the phone. He readjusted his phone so he could hold it with his other hand instead of the same hand that carried his basket full of groceries.

“I have an event that I want you to attend. I’m having some of my best employees come with me to help push and talk numbers with some big players in the industry that Father is interested in doing business with. This will be over the span of a week but won't be until a few months from now.” Guilliman explained.

“Ok?”

“I wanted to ask if you had anyone or any responsibilities that might interfere with this event.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Guilliman teased.

“I’m positive.”

“That’s a shame, I was hoping you’d say yes so I could get you an extra ticket for a potential plus one.” Guilliman added. Titus stopped in his tracks, processing what his superior had just said. Plus one? The only person he could think of that Guilliman might be insinuating is you and it made him feel unease.

Titus had mentioned you in passing during their lunch break. They had been speaking on the phone and decided to have lunch together to catch up on what the other was doing outside of work. He had been talking about how he had met someone at the supermarket who had caught his attention because of how they shopped. He didn’t know how to explain to Guilliman that you reminded him of his mother and how she would take great care in reading and observing costs and food contents when buying food. He didn’t know how to explain that he liked that you dressed the way you did, uncaring if some may criticize you for looking poorly in the middle of the day. He thought it was unique and quirky that you gave such a lacking amount of care to what those around you thought of you. It almost helped him feel less judged when he shopped.

Since then, Guilliman had tried getting him to talk more about you or about any of his few friends outside of himself. Guilliman found it interesting to see just how much Titus needed routines and positive reassurances to know he was doing good. This was in stark contrast to the Captain he had known who didn't seek praise and would scream his lungs out at privates and soldiers during drills and combat. A larger-than-life man who lived to serve was now reduced to an anxious mess who needed reinforcement. It was a fall from grace that Guilliman dared not talk about since he knew that his comments would do more damage than good.

All that Guiliman knew was that predictability and transparency helped Titus and that had remained the same even now. Guilliman wasn't complaining, Titus had been more talkative, more communicative, more present. He had found some strength to come into the office for small project events or meetings that could have been done remotely or even on an email debrief. He was seeing great developments in work and he wanted to nurture these new habits since it slowly brought out the man Titus once was.

"I dont know them well enough for that, Roboute." Titus explained.

"The event is 4 months away, ok. Im just saying that if by any chance there is someone in your life that you wish to bring along I'm more than happy to have them come. The more the merrier." Guilliman added. Guilliman said his goodbyes before hanging up without giving Titus time to respond back. Titus, annoyed, put his phone back into his pocket, not paying attention to the path ahead of him as he did.

"Ouch!" Titus snapped his head towards the noise in front of him. He looked down where he felt something crash into him only to find you sitting on the floor, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry." He apologized. He put his basket down on the floor before grabbing you by the arm and helping you to your feet.

"No, it's ok. It's on me. I wasn't paying attention." You apologized back. You patted your clothes hoping to clean them from any dirt you might have picked up in your fall.

"Thanks for picking me up, Titus." You smiled up at him, hoping that he didn't misinterpret your apology for sarcasm. Titus looked nervous as he watched you. He looked like he was inspecting you for injuries, not that you would have any, but just to make sure.

"No problem, Y/n."

"So what brings you back to the store, Titus? Anything new you're trying?" You asked wanting to be polite.

"I was told by my dietician to try adding more sugars into my diet. I'm... trying to see what is tolerable enough for me to eat." For someone of his stature, you would have assumed he would be louder but he was soft spoken. Clear and precise, calm but soft. It reminded you of the older gentleman living next door to you who would ask you to help him bring his case of water up if you had the time.

"Do you not like sweet?" You asked.

"I've developed a dislike for overly sweet things so I tend to avoid sugar in general." He explained. In reality, his anxiety made sugar act almost like a trigger. Either he could taste it and it was overwhelming or he'd consume it and it made his anxiety spike. He avoided sugary drinks, sweet treats, and even basic foods that have sweetner in it. The ice cream he had bought was the only thing he could tolerate as it wasn't too sweet and the cold numbed the taste.

"Fruit tends to be the easiest way to get sugar into a diet. It's hard not to enjoy them since there's variety." You explained. This seemed to ease Titus a little. His once furrowed brows eased just a little at the suggestion.

"I will try that." The conversation died from there. While you thought there was nothing more to say, Titus was buzzing with questions of his own. Another conversation with you meant more exposure which meant that his therapist would be proud of his progress and he himself will be proud of his progress.

"What about you?" He asked. He looked at your empty basket before returning his gaze to you.

"Me? Oh, I was seeing what I could get for $20. I don't really have the budget right now to experiment with food."

"What can you possibly get with $20?" He questioned. You thought his question was brash but you chalked it up to shock.

"You'd be surprised. It mainly works if you bargain or use coupons. For the most part, I get the ramen packets or rice." You shrugged.

"So you mainly eat...."

"Poorly? Yeah. When your broke you have to eat whatever, so might as well eat something that's not gross."

"Doesn't it leave you in a nutritional deficit?" Titus was trying to wrap his head around how anyone could possibly live off of this diet. Even the MRE's he would get in his service was better than the food you planned on buying. It sounded horrible and his face must have shown it because you laughed before explaining yourself.

"It does, but again, I dont have the money to buy anything other than the things I really need." You smiled up at him again, the corner of your eyes pinching against your cheeks.

"It was nice talking to you, Titus. Hopefully, next time we see each other you can tell me what fruits you liked." You winked at him teasingly.

"Of course. I will make sure to do so." He nodded. You couldn't help it, but you chuckled at him. He was amusing, to say the least. There was no way he was an actual person. He was too formal, too forward, too honest. You kinda felt bad for being able to know so much about this man when you haven't said enough about yourself.

As you walked away Titus sighed. This had been the longest conversation he had with you. This was good! He wondered if he had said too much or not enough. Maybe it was invasive to ask the questions had asked. It was all said and done but he couldn’t help but worry. He shook his head, he wasn’t going to allow doubt to consume him. Not now, not when he had just gained such a positive thing.

When he made it back home he made sure to go about his usual routine with as much urgency as he could. He double checked his locks, took a shower, put away his groceries, and grabbed his laptop from his desk to bring it over to his bed. He laid there, silently waiting for a call to come in. The ticking of his clock unnerved him as he waited. No matter how many times he had done this it still never stopped being stressful. The waiting, the anticipation ate at him as he counted down the seconds.

*bzzzz* *bzzzzzzz*

Titus clicked on the green answer button that appeared on his laptops screen before readjusting the camera and himself.

“Demetrian, what a pleasure it is to see you once more.” An older man with glasses that looked almost comically round, greeted Titus. He smiled, teeth showing as he waved at the man.

“Dr Galeo, it is good to speak with you again.” Titus greeted back.

“You’re looking well. I hope you’ve been following instructions given to you by your physician?”

“I have. There’s no need to be concern.”

“Good, good. I’m that case, let’s talk about your progress shall we? What have your most recent interactions with other people have been?” Galeo ask.

“Positive. I’ve been meaning to tell you abott it my interactions either Y/n, actually.”

“Do tell, Titus.” Proded Galeo.

It was as if the flood gates had open. Titus talked and talked and talked about you and the conversation you had had with each toner. Every moment, every word, every movement you had made was described in detail as he spoke to his therapist. Be couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, he just needed to talk to someone about his new friend. Galeo didn’t mind his team kings, if anything, this was the whole reason why he enjoyed his weekly check in with Titus.

When Titus had first started therapy he was closed up. He refused to speak or even write down his thoughts or feelings. It was frustrating as it didn’t seem that the man would open up any time soon and Galeo would have to fire him as a client. So when Galeo proposed Titus begin making small interactions with people in his gym, this seemed to spark a reaction. Titus didn’t take recommendations but orders and a life of service made this even more important for how Galeo was going to treat him. So he began giving Titus orders. Do this, do that, you must complete this. This worked even if it felt like it was degrading to do but it gave Galeo space to work with. Titus began reporting back that he would speak to the kind woman in the front desk at his gym if only to say “hello” and “goodbye”. This began to slowly evolve into him speaking to the new security guard at the gym that had approached Titus asking what his workout routine was. Story after story of the security guard became frequent but what threw Galeo off guard was the story about the person Titus had met at the supermarket.

“They spoke to me, again.” Titus said. His voice was in awe, almost as if he couldn’t believe that a basic human interaction could possibly be directed at him. Galeo knew Titus was deeply insecure but to see him genuinely surprised that something so small such as a greeting or acknowledgment would be directed at him made something in Galeo mourn for his patient.

“And they said that they wanted to hear if I liked anything new that I tried.” Titus finished. Galeo smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“That’s wonderful Titus. You and your friend seem to be making progress."

"They even gave me their name. Y/n."

"See, and here you were worried about rejection. You're making good progress. This is something to celebrate." Galeo encouraged.

"It feels childish to celebrate something so normal but I truly feel like I've progressed in my treatment, Galeo."

"And I see that progress, Titus. In due time, you will see all of these efforts pay off." Galeo comforted him, hoping that his words held some value to the man.

They spent the rest of their session making idle conversation on things Titus could improve on. Galeo hoped that more social interaction could help Titus see that the world wasn't against him. They ended their session with Galeo tasking Titus with trying to extend this connection with you outside of the supermarket. friendship is good for his health and Titus, unfortunately, has lacked those platonic relationships ever since he left the military. Titus agreed with him and even stated that there had been a few people who had reached out to him but he hasn't had the courage to reach back out of discomfort. Galeo reassures him that all in due time, there's no need to rush but there needs to be an attempt to try. With that, Titus ended the call and began preparing an early dinner for himself. He ate his meal in silence as he thought about the events of today. Would you want to be friends with him? Would you feel comfortable spending time with him outside of the occasional bumping into each other in the supermarket? He made sure to clean his dishes and then take a shower before heading to bed. He lay in his bed contemplating the plans for the next day. He had it off, there was nothing for him to do. Maybe he would be kind to himself and explore the city he lived in.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 34

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Also, Merry Christmas! I'm sorry I've been AWOL for the past few weeks, but I finally got a chance to write again and wanted to get this short part to you before Christmas. It will act as the finale to the first book of A Sweet Mishap - I definitely want to continue writing about this couple, but I think this is a nice way to wrap it up for the year and I'll come back with a sequel in the new year.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression, sex

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I rise early, with the sun like usual despite not having to work today. I refuse to get out of bed until I absolutely have to. But I prop myself up with an obnoxious amount of pillows and drag my laptop over from the empty side of the bed onto my lap. I’m determined to submit all my assessments today before my session with Dr. Katelyn, slowly removing stresses one at a time.

I carefully read through each word and sentence making minor edits as I go and then with a deep breath hit submit on each one. For once, I actually feel highly confident with my essays, knowledge and with the grade that I hope to receive. Despite working myself to the bone all semester with so many priorities to balance I feel I actually managed to submit work that I’m proud of. I attribute it to my steadily improving mental health and clarity.

Once I close down my college tabs I decide to try to do a little planning of my own for the summer. Jensen’s organised so much, a lot that I don’t even know yet–just that he’s got surprises that I’ll like. I grew up in such a small area, yet I know he’s mostly lived in the larger cities, so my plan is to give him more of the country. I research diners and hiking trails and make sure some of my favorite spaces are still operating. The list of things I want to do is extensive, but I know, as much as I want to take the full three months, Stewie will need me back at Mamma Jo’s. He’s agreed to a month so far, but I could tell even that long concerned him. He only agreed becuase he knows he can rely on the juniors, which I promised to train up before I leave Thankfully, most of them have a lot of potential and are fast learners. As I’m searching through sites a Facetime notification pops up and I answer instantly.

“Hey Darlin’! You look comfy.”

“Good morning, Handsome. I am, but there is one thing that would make me comfier…”

“Less than a week and you can fall asleep in my arms every night for a month.”

“Except when we visit my parents…”

“Yeah, except then. But you’ll still be nearby, not a country away.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait! I was actually just researching places I want to take you back home.”

“Really? Any hints?”

I shake my head, “Nope! You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine.”

“Fair enough. You got therapy soon?”

“Two hours.”

“They’ll probably need me on set by then. I just wanted to check in while I had a chance.We’re pushing hard to be finished by Friday, I have no doubts. Then there’s just the wrap party that night, then I’ll see you.”

“I wish you could come to my last show…”

“I wish I could show you off at the wrap party. But it’s okay, we get a whole month together in Texas and that means so much more.”

“I really can’t wait. I submitted my assessments this morning, so I’ve just got therapy, a few more shows and my last few shifts at the cafe. I’m counting down each day and each road block. You know I’ve brocken so many of my New Years Resolutions, and I couldn’t be happier. And I owe most of that to you, so thank you.”

“Anything for you. I love seeing that smile on your face, especially knowing I helped put it there. But that’s just it, you’re doing all the work, I’m just here to cheer you on and offer support when you need it. You really are a star, I just want to watch you glow and reignite that spark that others tried to dim.”

I smile at him, then bite my lip as I remember I conversation from my last session with the doctor. “Jens…I thanks…Also, I’ve been meaning to…” He stays ever patient and smiles as I ramble, letting me get there on my own, “I talked to Dr Katelyn last week about my issues with intimacy and some fears, concerns, thoughts about our holiday. I know we’ll be alone alot and likely sharing a bed while we’re at your place and I just…I want to be open to things, but I feel like I’ve never-Nothing’s really ever been on my terms. I’ve always just gone along with what the guy wants. She suggested that maybe I should treat this relationship like a first. Like I’m in highschool and we’re touching each base. Slow and at my pace.”

He nods the whole time. “Of course. Everything is on your terms with me. I’d never push. I’m happy to cuddle, maybe make out and if we don’t have sex during the trip that’s fine. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like I’m expecting anything, because I’m not. I just want to spend time with you. And if you decide it’s too much to sleep in the same bed every night, you can go into the guestroom whenever you want. We can make sure it’s set up nicely for you so you can have a comfortable escape when you need it. A space that’s all yours and I won’t ever go into unless you want me to. We can set it up on the first day if you want. You can choose whatever decor you want.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But Jens, what if…What if I want to…you know, have sex at some point?”

“If we get through the first three bases and you are 100 per cent on board and comfortable with going the home run then we tackle that base like all the others. Slow and at your pace. And if we start and you need to stop then you just tell me and we stop, but I’ll be reading all the signs your body gives me and if I think it’s too much I’ll stop it, just like last time.”

I nod, “Okay. Do you mind if I continue to talk to Dr. Kate about it today?”

“I hope you do. But you never need my permission to talk about anything with her. There’s no NDA here, and even if there was it wouldn’t pertain to our relationship. Anything between us is fair game. I think you already know that, but I’ll remind you as much as you need, that will never change.”

“Thanks.” I glance down at the time on my computer screen. “I should start getting ready.”

“Alright, Beautiful. I’ll talk to you tonight. Have a good session and a great day.”

“You too-You have a great-You know what I mean.”

“I do. Bye.” He blows me a kiss as he ends the call and I can’t help but blush. As I drag myself out of the comfy bed and into the shower I think back to that day in December. I really did win the lottery when I accidentally spilt that hot cocoa on him. That was the best sweet mishap I’ve ever made.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed

[disconox]

Why Jean is so important to me

Welcome to my insane ramblings, enjoy your stay (or don't). Most of this is also very self-indulgent, by the way. Warning: Mentions of abuse, alcoholism, mental illness, self-destructive thoughts I'd also like to remind you that this isn't me justifying Jean's behavior in any way, he's a fucking asshole and doesn't know how to handle Harry, or himself. They're both flawed individuals and that's okay. This is just me talking about my own experiences. Now that we got that out of the way, let's get to the actual thing.

I'm not even sure where to start. When I first found out Jean had clinical depression, I immediately felt a connection. It's relatable. Very relatable, in fact. I myself have been depressed for years. It all started at a young age, I was about 13, but due to trauma it could be very much earlier than that. I don't remember much from my childhood because most of it are bad memories. I'm 21 now and still going through a lot of shit, so it's been about 8 years. Jean strikes me as a guy who has been fucked over his entire life, no matter where he goes or what he does. It always comes back to him. After I have finished DE for the first time and looked more into the lore of Jean and Harry, I started to notice the similarities between the relationship with him and Harry, and the relationship with me and my own parents.

I know what alcohol does to people, I've seen it all. And it's not great for either parties. I'm stuck in a repetitive cycle of wanting to help someone to get better, only to realize that they don't want to get better and then I start building hope again. Rinse and repeat. I know I cannot change them. But I keep hoping for a change anyway, and get upset when it never comes. Of course it doesn't. No matter what I've tried. I have tried so many times. I'm a fucking hypocrite because I sometimes drink as well. I don't want to become like them. I drink for fun every once in a while and try to not over-do it, because every time I touch alcohol, something in the back of my mind tells me I'm becoming like my father. I thought about smoking a few times, but I don't want to destroy myself like my mother does. I'm really fucking scared of smoking and its consequences. Which is funny, because I should be as scared when it comes to alcohol, but I'm not. They both drink every day at 3 pm, after work. Every single day.

And it has been like this for years. Nothing has ever changed. A few months ago I had an actual discussion with my parents. We usually never have these sort of conversations (That's the issue, by the way. A very big lack of communication. Does that ring any bells?) and I was actually surprised when they told me they wanted to lay off the alcohol. I tried to approach the topic carefully and even offered them help (therapy etc.) but.. they also didn't want that. They straight up told me they don't need help. Which is really fucking frustrating because I want them to understand that they do, but they don't care.

I know change is really fucking hard and I've been there, but my parents had so many opportunities to change and never took them. Nothing has changed for so many years and I'm tired of it. I'm waiting for a change to happen but I know it's never coming anyway. I'm tired, mad, disappointed. That's how Jean feels about Harry, he just doesn't know how to help him and is an ass about it. And I'm just letting it happen, because there's nothing else I can do. I'm watching them destroy themselves every day and it fucking hurts. Something in me still feels a tiny flame of hope, when in reality that flame is already extinguished. I want people to understand, my father really fucking reminds me of Harry. The emotional abusive, the physical abuse, the alcoholism, the sexist remarks.. It just screams Harry. Especially given with how he had been around people Pre-Martinaise, which I have read in the game inside the damaged ledger. The fact that I love Harry to a certain degree says a lot of things.

The marriage between my parents is like if Dora never left Harry, and it's fucking awful.

-

That is mostly why I can relate to Jean so much. There's also some smaller things and I'll get to those now.

He fucking sucks at feelings. You can see it with the way he's trying to handle Harry, and it's not working.. Which, yeah. I suck at those too.

He likes to hide his sadness underneath a layer of cynicism and sarcasm as a coping method.. I do this all the fucking time.

Let's face it, this man is a fucking nervous wreck. He picks at his facial hair and displays a lot more habits like that, like him fixing his clothes (even though they look clean, according to one of the skills in the game), running his hand through his hair.. I do this without even realizing it.

He's depressed and fucking empty on the inside. He most likely hasn't felt real love from anyone or for himself in years. He needs therapy (lots of it), anti-depressants and a hug.. And I know what that feels like. I know it too well.

Lastly, he's a fucking mess. Like in every single way imaginable.. Again, very relatable.

Jean is such an amazing character for me to project on, to relate to and to find comfort in. I'm glad they made him fucked up, because that's what I love about him. He has so many flaws and I love every single one of them. He's in the game for like 15 minutes or less, but the impact he's had on me is insane. I've had a fair share of characters I would obsess over, but Jean hits different.

I'm so glad Jean-Heron Vicquemare exists, because I wouldn't know where I would be if I never met him. I want to thank my lovely friend (who is not on here, but I'm still saying it because I care about him a lot) for gifting me this amazing game.

And I want to thank you for reading this mess of a post.

If you have made it this far, I want to show you one last thing.

[fuckmeyer]

Hey girl!! Love your works. Duh. And there are some themes and characters that you explore really well. Again: duh.

So I have a question: what do you think of Charlie as a father?

Like I know people tend to really love him (which I think is partly because of the daddyification and billy burke). But while he is not an horrible father he is far from a good father imho. From what I get from your twilight (I have to admit it's been a while since the first book), you kind of like him. Could you please tell me why?

first: thank you! really appreciate you reading and for taking time out of your day to let me know what you think! so glad you like it:)

second: i agree with you. i think a lot of love for Charlie actually stems from movie!Charlie who doesn't get enough screen time to showcase his flaws (& also is kinda daddy even tho Gil is RIGHT THERE).

but, like all parents, Charlie Swan is flawed. i think he's trying his best but isn't totally equipped to step into a fatherly role, especially for a daughter, & it shows.

canon Charlie let his wounds from his marriage consume him to the point where it affects his relationship with his daughter

we learn that Charlie only spent time with Bella during the summers, & on a few trips to California. granted, Bella hated Forks & refused to go after a while, but it's incredibly sad that 1) Charlie was only seeing Bella once every 9-10 months to begin with, and 2) he seemed to give up being in her life once she "put her foot down." especially knowing how selfish & chaotic Renee was, i find it sad that he didn't make more of an effort to reach out & make sure Bella was okay.

well, now Bella's back, & it's clear he has a hard time showing love outside of acts of service. kinda. he bought her truck and put snow tires on, but both those happen in book 1.

&...that's really it. they don't do anything together; it seems Bella has the option of watching TV with Charlie, or going out to dinner. but Charlie makes no attempt to find common interests or activities they can do together.

it's prob directly related to his relationship with Renee. last time he showed emotion & affection, he got burned. we can tell he still hasn't moved on from his heartbreak since he still has pics of her around the house in Twilight & has kept Bella's room almost untouched. i'm sure subconsciously there's part of him that's afraid to make the emotional investment in his daughter because for all the investment he made in Renee, it wasn't enough.

Charlie wants so badly to be helpful to others

credit where credit is due. acts of service is Charlie's love language, and he is consistently trying to help others. one of the reasons he & Renee split was because he didn't want to leave his aging parents alone in Forks. he forgives Bella & is there for her after she weaponizes his trauma. in NM, he picks Bella's lifeless husk off the ground, tries to help, checks in on her almost every time she has a nightmare, suggests therapy, prods her to start going out again, etc. he gets in a fight with Billy defending Bella when she & Jake were fighting. in Eclipse, he encourages Bella to develop other friendships outside of Edward and the Cullens. he's the Chief of Police, for god's sake. his whole life revolves around serving others, & he consistently tries to do so despite the aforementioned trauma.

however!

Charlie is misogynistic

i mean, he's a boomer. he grew up in a world with more traditional gender roles. he implicitly upholds patriarchal ideas that contribute to the internalized misogynistic views he extends to his daughter.

for one, Bella immediately picks up all of the cooking & cleaning when she moves in. yes, she wants to be helpful. yes, she should have chores. but Charlie never stops to think about why Bella feels compelled to run the entire household (you don't think she deserves a break after her lifelong parentification????). he never bothers to pick up any new skills to help out. even in the middle of Bella's depression, she keeps the house clean & running. we find out in Eclipse he is still so inept at cooking, the lifelong bachelor somehow doesn't know not to microwave jarred spaghetti sauce with its metal lid still on, or how to cook noodles. she says doing laundry is "out of character" for him. when she leaves and he gets with Sue Clearwater, suddenly it's Sue who's running the household for him. hmmm

SECOND (please stand back as i am about to get feral), Charlie's attitude toward Jacob & Bella's relationship in Eclipse is absolutely abhorrent. he pushes her to reach out to Jacob when she doesn't want to (because Jacob just told her he'd rather see her dead than a vampire!!!). when she refuses, Charlie calls her "petty" & her behavior "unattractive." he's "smug" when he assumes she and Edward are fighting. not only does he congratulate Jacob after learning Jacob kissed Bella without her consent, but he snarkily tells Bella to "pick on people your own size" AND asks Jacob if he'd like to press charges AND admonishes Bella when she suggests she should beat Jacob with a baseball bat. LIKE!!!! YOUR DAUGHTER WAS JUST ASSAULTED!!! BE FUCKING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW IF IT HAD BEEN EDWARD THE BOY WOULD HAVE BEEN SHOT--

Charlie admits his mistakes & shortcomings

after this horrid scene, Charlie admits "I feel like I don't always do everything for you that I should," and does reference her hand. although he does state she has the right to not be sexually assaulted (wow, nice), he seems to regret more that he never taught her how to throw a punch. he also admits feeling helpless at the end of NM.

ultimately, Charlie loves his daughter

even when she literally becomes a monster, Charlie is willing to swallow his overwhelming discomfort just so he can be in her life. despite all the turmoil she puts him through-- emotionally manipulating him in Twilight, suddenly running away in New Moon, faking her death in Breaking Dawn-- he's willing to stand by her.

tl;dr: i like him in the sense that he's a flawed character (& flawed father). i think he loves her & he's trying. & whether you consider Charlie a good father probably depends on how it compares to your relationship with your own father ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[satureja13]

Jack's Therapy Game (From the beginning -> here)

While Ji Ho was logged in in his Therapy game, Jack was preparing dinner and has an eye on Ji Ho through the new opening. And Sai is sitting at the counter, programming the interface for the Therapy Game so they can throw out an early beta version to help other creatures, as planned. He could do this in the therapy room, but it's more important to watch Jack rather than Ji Ho. (lol) Jack: "He's back! Can Ji Ho continue cooking so I can have a quick session? I've already come so far! Two of my spots are already gone and maybe today the third and I'd be pain free after all these months! Please, Sai. Hm, hm, HM?" Saiwa sighed: "Sure."

Jack is so excited to go back ingame and back to Lou ^^' Jack: "Lou and I will have a great day again. Maybe plan another fight at the Arena and then I will meet the Queen again and I will ask her out! Oh, I love this therapy!" Sai is a bit stressed about the release of their game but he's so happy for Jack. He had this painful rash for over 6 months now, after he left his fated mate and Alpha, Kiyoshi. Ji Ho and Jack changed gear and Jack was ready to go.

uhm

He's dead. Lying there in a pool of his own blood. It's still bright red.

'His eyes, they closed and his last breath spoke He had seen all to be seen A life once full, now an empty vase Wilt the blossoms on his early grave

Walk away me boy, walk away me boy And by morning we'll be free Wipe that golden tear from your mother, dear And raise what's left of the flag for me'

What's left of the Flag - Flogging Molly (One of the best songs ever! As if it was written for this scene.)

Oh no.

Meanwhile Ji Ho had put dinner in the oven and started to work on his Siren's Songs. He's still worried that his evil grandfather has his flippers in this and somehow managed that Ji Ho put a spell on Vlad when they first met so he can get a grip on his powers, like Morgan had claimed. They should somehow solve this and make sure they are safe before Ji Ho can start to have a real relationship with Vlad. And he's still afraid that the Council/his grandfather could try to influence his friends through his Siren's Songs. He should use them only sparsely and they should be very careful on the rare ocassions he sings them to calm his friends when they meet on the festivals in the wheel of the year so they can spend a carefree time together. If only for a few hours. But they also should be safe from the Council as long as they are here in the Otherworld.

And while he was lost in his thoughts, Jack showed up again. Ji Ho: "Why are you back this early, you just left?" Time passes faster ingame. Here, in the real world, only a few minutes, so Jack must have stood stunned for quite a while next to his dead body before the game logged him out. Poor Jack. Jack: "Uhm - I'm dead." Ji Ho: "No." Oh no. It just went so well for all of them! Jack getting rid of his pain, Ji Ho finding his King (and his buried down feelings) and Saiwa living happily on his Flamingo Island.

Sai heard them and came over and they had to tell him. Saiwa: "No." Well, getting killed in a therapy game is a big no-no. All the work and months of playtesting for nothing. What was Tiny Can thinking?

They sat in their 'office' where already the first meeting for the Therapy Game had taken place. Saiwa: "This is game over for the Therapy Game. I told you, one little weirdness and it's over." Jack is more shocked than anyone else about his ingame death, but he can't let go. Not being able to see Lou again, and the Queen, and finally getting rid of his pain... Jack: "But Sai, we've come so far. Don't you want to go back to your Island and heal? And what about poor Ji Ho? He could finally get his buried down feelings back and get rid of his trauma. And Vlad and him could finally be together - for real."

But Saiwa didn't budge. And Jack won't let go either. Saiwa: "There is a murder on the loose in the game. We don't know what happened to you and who it was. We can't go back. No way." Jack: "But what if this is part of my therapy? What if Tiny Can wants me to learn something from it and prosper? Maybe the death of the old me is just the beginning of a new, better Jack?" No one craves a new, better Jack more than Saiwa but: "Jack, what if Ji Ho gets killed? That would only deepen his trauma. You did not experience your death, didn't feel the pain and fear and cruelty that came with it. Maybe Ji Ho or me would."

Ji Ho: "But we can exit the game anytime if something happens. Maybe Jack is right. And we could try to solve the murder of Jack. This must have a meaning. Otherwise Tiny Can wouldn't have implemented it. Time only passes by ingame when one of us is logged in, we could plan our log ins to not loose precious time, find clues and look for witnesses and solve the murder of Jack." Jack: "Oh! That would be awesome! A Criminal Therapy Game!" Ji Ho is already two steps ahead, on the case ^^' : "In which area did you die?" Jack: "Uh, I was a bit out. But it looked like the clearing where Lou and I sparred, in the woods near Goldshire. And now that I recall it - it looked like my heart had been ripped out." Saiwa: "WHAT?" His heart? Ji Ho already has a hunch. He told the others about the incident in Saarburg and that he wants to research what has happened when Greg made the wish at the crossroads. That 'their hearts would change'... Maybe someone took it too literally? But who? Jack: "Detective Duath, we have a case!" Saiwa threw up his hands in surrender: "Fine!" Ji Ho: "But none of us is near Goldshire to look after Jack's dead body. You are still on the Island and I want to stay in Saarburg to investigate and I don't know if I'm free to leave whereever I want when we're back at the castle since I'm supposed to look for my King." It was quiet for a while. Until Jack remembered: "Lou mentioned his friend, the owner of Valerian. He's living in the village nearby. That must be NPC Jeb. Maybe we could send Jeb ingame to investigate the crime scene and look for evidence?" Saiwa took a deep breath in. Jeb. They haven't spoken since Saiwa, Ji Ho and Jack left for the beach house after Saiwa broke down. But this was months ago. And they'll have to go home eventually and solve this case too and have a talk with the others so they can live together again. Maybe this was Tiny Can's plan? Bringing them back together before they drift further apart and the happenings of the message from future Jeb take place? Now that he thinks about it again: They also found Tiny Can at that temple in Selvadorada where future Jeb had left them the message... Saiwa sighed: "Ok. Let's go home. Are you ready for this, Jack?" Jack: "I'm ready when you're ready, my friend."

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[caffeinefafnir]

TL;dr: how a simple hobby keeps me from collapsing (bc we really don't pay enough attention to mental health as a society)

So earlier this year I was writting a fanfic and that's been like, the only anchor to sanity I've had for a long while. I started out on a whim one night and spewed out around 10 pages in one night. I've started at 11pm and stayed up till 5am writting. It's been such a fucking nasty year (bc all the shit started last November actually) where I've been struggling with family issues, health issues, being unemployed and struggling financially, and then the feeling of being left behind when my partner got a job and I didn't, and a lage etc. Suddenly in May I got posessed by this supernatural impulse to write a fanfic after what felt like a lifetime (around 13 years). Days turned into months, one draft became 5 separate stories abt the same characters, I discovered what whump was thus rediscovering something I was really adept to without even realizing it, followed closely several challenges althougth never pressured myself to participate (bc deadlines and I don't get along) and on top of that I started a completely new story of a genre I had never dreamt of exploring before.

Around June I was writting a super emotional scene of my side fanfic. My fave character had attempted suicide and failed, and it was a super heavy scene where she talked about this with a friend in the most nonchalant way (at first) and he was completely shocked and devastated. I was writting this at a cafe, my favorite one, and had to make a real effort to keep a straigth face while typing out bc I tend to act out the feelings as I describe them and my eyes were getting all red and wattery. But everything was fine and I got the full scene toghether. And... I felt so incredibly lighter and happier after that.

I've been trying to find an explanation for it since then. I've been battling depression since a long time now, 10 years, but I hadn't felt suicidal since a long long time ago. But I know too damn well the feeling of the symptoms of depression going away, and BOY what I felt was like a MIRACLE! The floating sensation? Just knowing everything is going to be better? Damn I missed that. I had felt it before a few times in prior years when something significantly good happened, when I went regularly to therapy, etc.

The weirdest part is that things weren't even particularly bad at that point, and even when they were the absollute worst around February I hadn't seriously thought about suicide not even once. It was more like homicidal rage at that point haha, but nothing about harming myself. I keep thinking about it ever since, how optimistic I was for the next month or so before my mood got worse due to environmental reasons. And I still went to that part over and over again to correct, add details and overall finishing the rest of the fic but this proved to be a difficult feat since I never could get myself into the same mood again.

And I'm like... what?? Why did this particular scene caused that blissful effect on me? I've never ever been in that exact situation, surely I fantasized about it (we all do at some point) and I know I'm far from cured of the depression for I still feel some of the indicators of its presence, but the change in me since I wrote those pages was explosive and intoxicating. Maybe I was channeling everything through my blorbo in ways I didn't knew I could, maybe it's just the fact that she got listened at without judging or being accused of faking it/being a failure/blowing it out of proportion, maybe bc she was feeling as lonely and unseen as I currently feel to the point you can disappear for days and nobody would notice (or at least that's what you tell to yourself)

I'm worried that if I tell all this to my therapist she'll institutionalize me haha. For real. I dunno what they normally do in these cases lol. Also I don't want to tell her yet that I write fanficiton since I´m not ready to explain an Xgen-er what is it and why my generation hype so much abt it