#I haven���t fully grasped their personality yet

[alternateafterthought]

Arcane - Part 12

Ø  Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø  Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø  Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø  Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø  Warnings: None

Ø  Word Count: 1202

Ø  A/N: Hey guys… here is the next part of my Min Yoongi fic!! It’s been quite a while since I last posted anything for Arcane, and I know this part is also quite short, but I have been recently editing GOLDEN TIME and posting it on AO3 and also Wattpad!! It would mean a lot to me if you would check it out, it’s completely edited and I’m adding more story to it!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! I would love and appreciate your feedback!! Thank you so much

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Finally after a day that seemed like it wouldn't end, Y/N arrived home, closing the door and sighing as she leaned back against it. Her eyes closed shut, not much darker then the cold house she walked into, trying to listen out for anything, anyone moving around the house.

Though like last night and the night before that, it was silent, not a whimper, not a whisper.

"Good to be home." Y/N whispered to herself as her body sagged, sitting her bag and coat down right where she kicked off her shoes before walking to the kitchen. "Maybe..." Y/N looked through the fridge at the lacking of edible food sitting before her. "Ordering in, it is."

Taking her hair out and running her nails against her scalp, Y/N moved towards her room, stopping in front of Yoongi's door. Under the door, Y/N could see movement against the light that was on in the room, Y/N just thankful that Yoongi was still present.

Knocking three times, Y/N went through a normal routine they had; "I'm home, Yoongi. I'm going to order some food, would you like anything?" Y/N waited a few heartbeats before speaking again. "Okay, I'll order now."

Y/N walked to her bedroom, freeing herself of any restricting clothing and into her most comfy pyjamas before walking back to the front door to get her phone. Before she walked away there was a knock at the door, confused she looked through the small window beside the door to see a delivery man standing there. Opening the door, thinking they might have had the wrong house, Y/N was prepared to turn them away.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" They asked, looking up at Y/N expectedly, who just nodded before they offered a bag of food. "Enjoy."

"Um... thank you." Y/N smiled a little before they were walking away.

Y/N took a step back and closed the door, completely confused at the bag of food in her hands until she turned around.

"Oh my god, Yoongi, you scared me." Y/N stared wide eyed at the hybrid in front of her, hair a mess, bags under his eyes, and yet still standing in front of her.

"Well are you coming?" Yoongi spoke the first words to Y/N in days. "I'm hungry."

The hot bag of food pressed against Y/N's chest was starting to burn, but the confusion of what stood in front of her weighed more. Following dumbly behind the hybrid, Y/N stopped a little short from the kitchen, watching as Yoongi took out plates, going to set the table. Y/N really didn't know what to do, she just stood and watched him, not wanting to make any sudden movement to upset him.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Yoongi asked over his shoulder as he sat at the table in his normal seat.

"Right, yeah... sorry." Y/N moved quickly over towards the table, finally sitting the hot food down and sitting herself.

Y/N sat, quietly as Yoongi served them both food, eating the food and looking up every now and then at the panther hybrid across from her. He never said anything, only focused completely on eating, his eyes never even leaving his plate. It was awkward, or maybe it was just Y/N who didn't know what to do or say to the hybrid across from her.

Did she apologies? Did she make small talk? Excuse herself and give him freedom?

Y/N was about to make some excuse to leave the table, to leave Yoongi in peace after she finally saw that he was eating but he stopped her; "So, when am I leaving?"

"What?" Y/N asked, spoon halfway to her mouth.

"When do I leave?" Yoongi asked again, still not looking up t Y/N. "When are you taking me back? I can't satisfy you or your friends. You don't need me here."

"Yoon... Yoongi... I..." Y/N was confused, or completely beyond that.

"I'm sorry I wasn't good for you. I promise I'll leave quietly, I'm already packed. I have left everything you've bought me in it's place." Yoongi continued talking, not have completely heard Y/N stutter. "When did you want to send me back?"

So maybe confused wasn't the correct emotion to feel right now, anger could have been something, maybe a sudden willingness to hunt down his previous owners and make them pay was another thing. That was a good suggestion for Y/N, to hunt down whoever it was to turn such an amazing man, an amazing person, into this shell of a man.

"Yoongi, I'm not going to send you back." Y/N words only caused Yoongi's ears on his head to flicker uncontrollably, she could see the ends of his tail curl around his own waist. "Yoongi, I'm not... I mean... you... okay..." Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions. "Would you like to go back?"

That question seemed to be the golden one, it caused Yoongi to look up and at the woman across from him. She was giving him a choice, she was actually allowing him to choose whether he went back or stayed with her. No one had ever given him that choice before, no human had ever given him that choice.

"I'll do whatever you'd want me to." Yoongi said instead of answer.

"No, Yoongi," Y/N missed how Yoongi shivered when she spoke his name. "The choice is yours. If you would like to go back, then you can go back when the boys come to visit tomorrow."

"Their coming?" Yoongi stared wide eyed at Y/N, for the first time in a long time, hope shone.

"They'll be here tomorrow afternoon. If you wish to leave, I'm sure they'll love to have you go back home." Y/N couldn't look at Yoongi now, giving him exactly what he wants, and losing everything she could have. "I'll make arrangements for you, make sure you pack everything, even the stuff you bought while here, it's yours."

Y/N stood from her chair, walking away from a stunned Yoongi still sitting at the table, watching Y/N walk away. She had given him the option and even gave more for the choice he wanted to make, giving him everything he wanted. Yoongi could never quiet understand Y/N, he could never fully grasp what her intentions are with him. Yet, here she was, giving him everything he could ask for when he never asked for a thing, not really asked for but maybe... or she... Yoongi never quiet knew what it was that Y/N was doing for him, and maybe, maybe he wasn't strong enough to ask what she ever gained from him being here.

She would never allow Yoongi to hear her, not the way she completely broke down as soon as her door was closed. The cry that raked through Y/N's body came suddenly and loudly, a little too loudly before she tried to silence her cries. Moving through her room, Y/N ended up in the place she always ended up when everything got too much, when everything felt like it was moving in on her. Stuffing herself into the bottom on the wardrobe, Y/N cried and cried, not realizing that the hybrid in the kitchen could hear every heartbreaking moment.

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[rkmason]

                                           EVEN IF YOUR PAST WAS H  E  L  L ˟                                                          (       IT TURNS INTO A CHERISHED MEMORY      )

oddly enough, even after leaving sphere, his life continues to come around full circle, turning and twisting, taking him along with it and he realizes it resembles something more of a roller coaster. how cliche. but maybe the person who said life is a roller coaster was right, maybe he should be glad he’s still part of the ride at all instead of being tossed off or left at the end of it, wondering when he’ll feel that thrill again. maybe moments like these are the ones worth continuing to get up, to fight, to will the body to go on just five minutes more. he used to think life was more about making every moment the best it could be and he forgot that suffering is part of why life is worth treasuring. there is a thin line between heaven and hell on earth.

he’s heard it all before, that trainees, especially those in trc, are locked in the dungeons until debut. it took him years to fully grasp that the concept of that, of feeling as if he was locked up and trapped was because of him, because he let negatively dull his thoughts instead of letting positivity and creativity lift them up.

instead of it being the company’s fault, that suffocating feeling of competition, it was him. he was the one who got tired first and he let it take over him. like the stage they did in the finale for trc, he was poisoned, danced with the devil, let his wings that once flew with hope be dragged and torn apart by despair and a lack of faith. mindlessly, he did this and that without much ambition, without enough ambition.

what am i doing this for, what am i doing this for, he asked so many times and forgot he used to have the answer himself. the reason he didn’t sign with sphere the first time, the reason he felt triggered by the words face in the crowd, because he wasn’t ready. when was the first time he faced his feelings so adamantly? so strongly, so hardheadedly face-to-face?

it was mijoo. everything he hid, everything he kept to himself, his confession to mijoo was the most honest he’d been, ironic for somoeone who can’t keep his mouth shut most of the time. since then, he knows, he’s been too go-with-the-flow, too happy to go along with this or that instead of deciding for himself. even making the decision to move to seoul, it felt as if he hadn’t faced everything then either. his father didn’t speak to him and he left anyway. the night his father apologized to him, it was minho who ended up kneeling and apologizing. he shouldn’t haven. he should’ve have left without making things okay first.

today, when he stands in front of trc, he wonders if he’s made everything okay. he knows he hasn’t. since he was handed the card, he thought, haven’t i done enough? seeing what’s going on with convex lately, he thinks, aren’t i being selfish? thinking of how he’s been working on finding his sound and his voice, he thinks, should i keep going down this path? because jumping at every opportunity is no longer an option for someone like him who’s broken a contract, hurt his group, hurt their fans, someone like him who still went on a competition show and won among endless comments that he had too much experience, that it wasn’t fair for him to be there. is it fair this time around?

maybe it is, what if it’s only fair that he isn’t publicly signed, not publicly rewarded another chance after all he’d done? what if it’s only fair that he’s starting all over again?

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ NOSTALGIA ♫

the past doesn’t feel so heavy today. he even chuckles at the thought of the hat he wore the first time and it makes him look down at his outfit today with a lift of his brows. he feels more like he’s here for some business meeting than to audition. but it felt fitting, get it? it suits the situation, he shakes his head this time around and he hopes his turn is soon so he doesn’t keep laughing at himself while waiting.

a nod to the person who approached him, he wears a suit too but his glasses are clear and it’s a far closer attempt to kingsmen in particular than men in black or some kind of secret agent. with a respectful request, he asks if he can have a chair for the audition. if not, he has one waiting outside in the car. this time, he came alone. no dabin or seik waiting, not a soul told about his audition except mijoo. because he can’t keep a secret from her but he doesn’t want to let any of his friends down too, including the, as the man had described him, t-rex friend of his that unknowingly helped him get this audition. he wonders if trc really knows or not. it is chanyeol after all, how many guys in seoul are willing to so happily, excitedly, and vigorously dress up like that and act?

going into the room gives him goosebumps knowing that tiger jk will be there. the first time he auditioned here, it was a panel of trainers, but now it’s the same man who told him he couldn’t be signed yet. such a vague word, but he’s hanging on it now. he’s tied that word in with the memories that come up in this song.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ HERE, THE WORD ‘PRESENT’ IS THE MOST MEANINGLESS WHEN IT COMES TO CATCHING A CLOUD, THE ANSWER IS SO PLEASE TALK ABOUT THE PAST YA SO PLEASE TALK ABOUT THE PAST YA

THERE’S NOTHING TOO DIFFERENT ABOUT THESE BARS CHOOSING WHETHER TO BE INSIDE OR OUTSIDE IS UP TO ME IF MY DREAM WAS TO BREATHE IN THE OUTSIDE AIR THE ONLY THING I CAN CHANGE IS THE SIZE OF MY PERSPECTIVE ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

his glasses, the jacket he’s wearing, layers discarded as if he can brush off the past but they’re still there, still nearby, still a part of him and his face is wrought with the same confusion yet determination to change something, anything. because he gets it now, even if he doesn’t understand right from wrong in every situation, perspective can change your entire world.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ THE ONLY THING I CAN CHANGE IS MY PERSPECTIVE CHOOSING WHETHER TO BE INSIDE OR OUTSIDE IS UP TO ME I’M SAYING THIS PLACE IS THE OUTSIDE THEY COMMAND ME TO CHANGE IT TO THE OUTSIDE I’M SAYING THIS PLACE IS THE OUTSIDE

SOME DREAM OF ESCAPING, SOME CHOOSE TO OBEY MAYBE THEY’RE ALL JUST TRYING THEIR BEST IN THE WORST SITUATION IT’S EASY TO SAY THIS IS THE WORST JUST ONE THING, THE HOMESICKNESS IS THE PROBLEM JUST ONE THING, THE GREED* IS THE PROBLEM ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀  

a lack of sense, ego, arrogance, these sorts of things are the problem. comparing situations to another, comparing yourself to another, it’s how days turn gray. he doesn’t want that anymore. he thought it again when he was on the show, he thinks of it now. confining clothes are nothing compared to confined thoughts, he just wants color in his life again.

what was once a dull, gray past, he’ll paint over with nostalgia.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ EVEN IF YOUR PAST WAS HELL, IT TURNS INTO A CHERISHED MEMORY THERE WERE ASHEN AND GRAY DAYS, TURNING AND TURNING BUT THE ONLY ONE WHO IS GOING CRAZY IS ME LONGING FOR THE HAN RIVER COURT* THAT WAS MY EMERGENCY SHELTER BY ALL MEANS, I’M JUST REMINISCING NOW

THE POUTING LIPS OF MY UPSET FRIENDS NOW I THINK I CAN LAUGH IT OVER AND BE COOL BUT NO MATTER WHAT, ONLY CONFUSION* REMAINS TIRED DAYS AND  INEVITABLE EXHAUSTION NOW I FEEL LIKE I CAN STRETCH OUT MY LEGS AND SLEEP WELL NOW THE ONLY THING I CAN DO IS REACH OUT AND PRESS RECORD, PLAY ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀  

he’s standing from the chair now, his outfit disheveled from the way he pulls at it before he settles into what feels more like a genuine version of him. hand in his heads, he slowly, slowly kneels as he asks the last question.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ WHAT AM I DOING THIS FOR WHAT EXACTLY AM I DOING THIS FOR IF IT’S FOR HAPPINESS, IS IT OKAY TO DO EVIL WHAT DID I DO THAT FOR WHAT EXACTLY DID I DO THAT FOR? ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

because the past is gray for more than one reason, decisions are gray for more than one reason. but it’s all nostalgia—

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ WHEN SOMEONE ELSE’S HAPPINESS… BECOMES MY HAPPINESS… I FEEL SO EMPTY ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

it’s all in the past.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ CHOI MINHO “ MASON ” #RKZOMBIESCOUT // #RKZOMBIENIGHT // SKILLS

[lordofthenerds97]

Misery Loves My Company

So, here’s my entry for @hargrovesprincess 1.2k challenge!  Based on the prompts: “I need a hug” “You’re so selfish” and “Get in the car” Enjoy! Rating: T+ Words: 4,400 (how did I manage a perfect number?) Pairing: Billy/Reader

Billy slammed the door to his Camaro, revving the engine before leaving skid marks on the pavement. He was tired of everything; tired of the way his father treated him, tired of constantly worrying about Max, tired of the constant back and forth every day.

There was one thing in his life that he appreciated. And that was you.

It was your tender touches that healed his wounds and ran through his hair as he cried against your shoulder.

You were the one that Billy trusted the most, the one that he could always rely on no matter what. You had seen him at his best and at his worst. And he made sure to tell you every day how much he loves you.

That’s what made the events of the next week hurt so much more.

Billy approached your locker as you were getting your books out of it for the night. You shoved a few papers into your bag before looking up with a wide smile at seeing him. “Hey, babe.” you said.

He grinned at you, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Hi,” he breathed.

You looked up at him, a little confused. Normally this side of Billy was reserved for the more private moments between the two of you. Not that you were complaining, you loved the softness that he showed only to you. “What’s up?” you asked.

He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his tight-fitting denim jeans, his eyes not fully meeting yours. “Wanna get a shake?”

Your E/C eyes searched his face, looking for any sign to tell you what was bothering him. But to no avail. Normally you could read your boyfriend like a book, but there was something different today. But you nodded nonetheless, shutting your locker as Billy pulled your smaller frame towards him. His arm was slung around your slender shoulders and you instinctively wrapped yours around his waist, letting him guide you outside. You felt safe tucked against his side and you practically snuggled against him as the two of you walked.

He chuckled at your reaction, shaking his head quietly. “Have I told you today how much I love you?” he asked.

You nodded, your H/C curls bobbing along with the motion.

He paused beside the passenger side door to the Camaro, grinning at you before pressing his lips to the side of your head. “Good. Now I can show you.” His lips captured yours in a rough kiss, his hands threading through your hair.

Surprised at his sudden display of affection, it took you a moment to respond. But you did, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You were aware of all the disgusted looks the two of you were receiving from passers-by, but it didn’t bother you in the least. It used to, but not any more. In the months that you had spent dating Billy, his confidence began rubbing off on you. Now you had no problem saying screw you to the man when before, someone could look at you wrong and you would worry yourself to death over what you did to upset them.

You pushed him away after a few moments, the need for air screaming in your lungs. You looked up at him through your lashes. You knew something was wrong. And one way or another, you were going to weasel it out of him. But you might as well try the direct approach first. Sometimes he surprises you and opens up immediately. Other times it takes a little bit of prying to get him to answer your questions. “You okay, Billy?” you asked.

He cocked his head slightly, his blue eyes looking rather stormy. “Da**, Y/N. You really are good at reading people.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just using the awesome mind reading powers that the Cleric bestowed on me.”

Billy snorted. “You’re spending too much time with Max and her friends.”

You shrugged. “That tends to happen when I’m their babysitter.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was Stevie’s job?”

“He’s working in Starcourt now, remember? Besides, you think I’m gonna miss out on D&D?”

Billy laughed, kissing you again. “You’re such a nerd, Y/N.”

You grinned. “I know. But you love me anyway.”

“You’re right, I do.” He glanced up at the people walking by, all of them laughing and talking. And it dawned on him that you were really the only person he was able to do that with. And he didn’t want to take it for granted. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked back at you. “I just need a hug.”

Surprised but willing to oblige, you immediately dropped your bag to the ground and stood on your tip toes, wrapping your arms around Billy’s neck. He screwed his eyes shut and buried his face in your neck, his arms snaking around your waist and practically lifting you up. He took a deep breath as you began threading your fingers through his hair, something you knew calmed him down. “Talk to me, babe.” you said quietly.

“I don’t want to go home. Not yet.”

You nodded. “You don’t have to. Do you want to stay over tonight? I’m sure my parents won’t mind.”

Your parents had found out about Billy staying over about a month ago. Your mother had walked into your room one morning to deliver freshly washed clothes and just about screamed when she saw the curly headed blond in bed with you. His shirt and jeans were on the floor beside the bed and he had his arms around you with your back to his chest. You had already been awake, softly tracing mindless patterns on one of Billy’s arms. Upon seeing your mother’s reaction, you hastily but carefully untangled yourself from your boyfriend and got out of bed. She was glad to see that you were fully clothed in your usual pjs.

“Don’t wake him up, Mom, please!” you begged quietly.

She crossed her arms and glared at you. “And why not? You know the rules, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “No, you don’t understand, Mom.” you started. “He came over at about 3 this morning.”

She frowned. “Why?”

You raked a hand through your mess of H/C curls. “His father is a drunk. And an abusive one.”

Her gaze softened as she glanced back at the boy in your bed. And when she took a bit of a closer look, she could see the large purple bruise that was snaking around his ribcage and the few butterfly bandages across his eyebrow.

You grabbed her attention once again. “He knocked on my window. It was bad last night. He took the brunt of it to keep his sister out of the way.”

She sighed. “Fine. He can stay. But from now on, I need to know when this happens. And your father isn’t going to be very happy when he finds out someone’s been here without his permission.”

You nodded, willing to accept whatever punishment in order to keep your house as a safe haven for Billy.

Billy chuckled at the memory and released you, opening the door and picking up your bag to toss it in the backseat. “That’s not a bad idea, doll.”

You grinned and pulled the door shut, waiting for him to come around. When he did, the two of you began making your way towards Benny’s. It was sad, what happened to Benny, but you were glad that someone was around to take care of the place and keep it running. More than once, the small diner had provided shelter for the both of you during whatever crap storm had decided to strike that day.

You sang along to Metallica as Billy tapped the beat out on his steering wheel, turning every so often to look at you with a large and loving smile. He loved having you in his car. He could listen to you sing along to every rock song imaginable, watch you perform a single woman performance on air guitar, or if you were feeling adventurous, grasp your hips tightly as you straddled his lap and kissed him roughly.

He parked outside the restaurant and you grabbed your bag, wanting to get a jumpstart on your homework since you knew you wouldn’t be doing a lot of studying with Billy. He had other ways of occupying your time, ones that he deemed more important than studying.

You both sipped on a chocolate shake as you tried to work out the last equation in your Algebra II homework. He watched with a grin, leaning his arms on the table, as you focused on the paper. You bit the inside of your cheek with a frown, tapping your chin with the eraser end of the pencil. You looked up when you felt his eyes on you.

“What’re you smiling about?”

His grin only got a little wider. “Nothing. I’m just watching you.”

You rolled your E/C eyes and went back to your homework.

The rest of the day passed like that. Billy drove you home and your parents weren’t surprised to have the now familiar sight of the blue Camaro in their driveway in front of the garage. Your father offered him a place to stay for the night after a few brief words from you. Billy readily agreed and you helped your mother with dinner.

This was the kind of life that Billy wanted. He wanted to have his own place (shared with you, of course). He wanted to come home to you every afternoon. He wanted to dance around the kitchen with you while the two of you made dinner.

But for now, he knew that was only a dream. A dream that he was soon going to make a reality.

When Friday night rolled around, there was (of course) a party going on. You were surprised to find that this time, Steve was the one throwing it. Several months after his breakup with Nancy, he had started dating Jace, one of your best friends.  She was a good influence on him and you more than approved of their relationship.

“So, what do ya say, Y/N? Wanna go?” Billy asked as he slung an arm over your shoulders as you walked to lunch together.

You shrugged. “Sure. I’ll be a little late though. I have to work tonight. You can go ahead without me though. I’ll show up when I’m done.”

“You sure? I can wait for you.”

You shook your head. You knew how much Billy enjoyed partying. It was one of his outlets, and so long as he promised not to get too drunk, you were okay with it. Besides, that just meant more time he would want to spend cuddling in bed. And you were more than okay with that. So, you waved off his concerns. “I’ll be fine. But try not to drink the entire keg this time, yeah?”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Does the King finally get a Queen?”

You rolled your eyes. When you’d had a few drinks, you were known to get a little feisty. And at one point, you had challenged Billy’s title of Keg King. They had crowned you the Queen of the Keg, something you knew you would never live down. “If that’s what makes you happy.” you said, patting his chest.

You had taken a change of clothes with you to work. Your choice of employment was something that Billy found extremely hot, and the sight of you covered in engine grease had been a major turn on. And you weren’t going to complain whenever he scrubbed the grease off in the shower, replacing the black marks with purple.

The mechanic’s shop was one of two in Hawkins. Surprisingly to everyone, you knew exactly what you were talking about when it came to cars. Billy even trusted his Camaro in your hands. And everyone knew that boy loved his car as much as he loved you. The first time you went in to ask for an application, the guys in the shop had laughed at you. But when you glared at them, rolled up your sleeves, and fixed a transmission in a diesel truck without anyone telling you where anything was, you were hired on the spot.

You stood in the bathroom in the back, pulling a different shirt over your head to compliment your tight-fitting black jeans that Billy loved. You brushed your curls away from your face and grinned at your reflection before throwing the backpack over your shoulder and heading out. You were one of the last ones to leave after every shift, but you shouted a goodbye to Luke, the older man that owned the shop.

The pounding of the music could be heard all the way from the street that Steve lived on. You raised an eyebrow as you got out of the car, your black ankle boots hitting the pavement as you stood. People were everywhere, laughing and drinking.

You said hello to everyone you saw, most of them knowing you by name even if you didn’t recognize their face. It took you longer than you thought it would to actually get inside the house. And when you did, Steve suddenly appeared by your side, his arm around your shoulders to guide you to the kitchen. You jumped in surprise at the contact.

“Someone’s clingy,” you muttered, looking up to your friend.

He grinned down at you. “Come on, Y/N. Party’s just started. You’re here now.”

You almost laughed at the thought. “Right. I thought the party started whenever Billy walked into a room. Speaking of, where is he?” Your eyes scanned your surroundings in search of your boyfriend. When you didn’t see him, you frowned up at Steve, who continued to lead you into the kitchen and away from the throng of people.

He simply shrugged. “Dunno. Saw him when he first got here but haven’t seen him sense. He wasn’t even at the keg stand.”

That got your attention. “What?”

Steve shrugged again, not really knowing what to say. He never understood what you saw in Billy, especially after he’d had the crap beat out of him by the blond. But the two of them had made peace over the last several months, which pleased you to no end.

“Well, I’m gonna look for him. And Jace, I haven’t seen her either.”

He nodded. “Have fun! Try not to get lost. Or…or trampled,” he said in concern, looking at the mass of people gathered in his house. You laughed and patted his shoulder. Steve was always one to bite off more than he could chew.

The music pulsed in your ears as you walked through the house, making you nod your head to the beat. It took you about 20 minutes, but you eventually found him. And when you did, it was like your world stopped spinning.

He was in the corner beside the staircase. But he wasn’t alone. He was pressed up against the wall, shoving his tongue down a girl’s throat as she rubbed against him. Their kisses were sloppy, and you could tell that they were both drunk. You dropped the cup that you had been carrying as he palmed her a**, almost lifting her up.

And then you realized who it was that he was trying to suffocate.

Jace.

Tears filled your eyes as he pulled away with a smirk. His eyes slid over Jace and landed on you. The stormy blue orbs seemed to register who he was seeing, and his eyes widened before he shoved Jace away from him. She let out a loud protest but when she realized who had seen them, she just rolled her eyes.

“Baby doll-”

You held up a hand to stop him, quietly letting the tears fall down your cheeks. “Don’t you dare, Hargrove.” you hissed, reverting to calling him by his last name. That seemed to sober him up. When you first met him, you hated him. You always called him by his last name. And over the course of your relationship, you only called him that when you were angry. Which wasn’t often. But now? You were seething.

“Y/N, please, just-”

Blinded by both rage and pain, you sent your palm flying across his cheek. The sound of the slap resounded through the room and whipped his head to the side. Everyone around you gasped and the music was turned off at the same time. Billy didn’t even react, simply dropping his head and wearing the now bright red hand print without complaint.

“No, Billy. You told me when we started this, you were done sleeping around. You were done sleeping with random girls.” Tears spilled down your cheeks as you shouted at him, not caring who was listening. He didn’t even have the balls to look you in the eyes as you continued your tirade.

“I believed you! I trusted you da****! I gave you every ounce of love that I had, and you throw it away like that?! With my best friend?! We’re done, Billy.”

Jace snorted and rolled her eyes. “Y/N, get over yourself. Billy never wanted you in the first place. You were just the scraps. The one girl who’s pants he couldn’t get into. And now that he has? He’s moving on to bigger and better things.”

You rounded on the other girl, your eyes flashing in rage. You had always questioned your friendship with the popular girl, wondering if there was some sort of a hidden agenda to the friendship. And now you knew that you were right to trust your instincts even when the logical part of you told you to push those doubts aside.

Letting the confidence that you had recently gained spur you on, the words fell from your lips like a waterfall.

“You know what, Jace? You can have him. Because he’s nothing but a two-timing bastard. But you know what you are?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Do tell,” she said sarcastically.

“You’re nothing but a narcissistic, self-centered whore. You pretend to be best friends with someone for three years for what? To boost your self esteem? Well let me tell you something, honey. You need every ounce that you can get. Because all this is for is to make you feel better about the crap you put everyone else through. You’re so god**** selfish Jace. So you know what, screw you. Both of you.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and stalked out the door, angrily wiping the tears from your face as people cleared a path for her. She walked past Steve in a whirlwind, not even stopping to say goodbye.

The weeks passed slowly. Billy had tried to talk to you, tried to clear the air. But you weren’t having any of it. Steve had broken things off with Jace, leaving him broken-hearted once again. You felt for him, you really did. The two of you had gotten closer since the party, both wallowing in heartache.

You avoided Billy in the hallways and in every other possible place. But you still made sure your house was a safe place for him. Because even though he ripped your heart out and stomped on it, you still loved him. You thought you were incredibly stupid for that, but that didn’t stop you from loving him. Your parents knew and they were none too happy with the man, but they also allowed him to continue staying. His welcome, however, was extended to the basement. And they made sure you never saw him. But you always knew when he was there.

During dinner one evening, your father had an exciting announcement.

“I got that promotion I applied for!” he exclaimed with a wide grin. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. But you knew what that meant.

“So does that mean we’re moving?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yes. But if you want, you can finish out your senior year before we do. I can commute back and forth for a couple months.”

You shook your head. It wasn’t really worth it. The only thing you had left here was Steve, your newfound best friend. You really had no desire to stay. “That���s okay.” you said. “I don’t mind a change of pace.”

Your father smiled fondly at you while your mother frowned in concern. She knew you were still struggling with the whole Billy situation. She knew how much you loved him, how much you still loved him. And it didn’t escape her keen eyes that you would sometimes come downstairs in the mornings with puffy eyes. You tried to hide the fact that the events had broken you, but your mother knew you well enough to know how much pain you were actually in.

“Y/N,” she started. “You think that’s a good idea? You’re gonna have to find a new job, make new friends…”

She trailed off when you shrugged. It wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through that before. Before your family had finally settled in Hawkins, you moved around a lot. And it never really bothered you. If you were being honest, you missed the constant traveling. It meant that you got to see the country, something you always wanted to do.

You had broken the news to Steve the next morning at school. He sighed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“I’m gonna miss you, Y/N. But if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

You grinned at that, knowing he would be supportive. You didn’t miss the surprised look on Billy’s face as you walked past him. But you kept your eyes forward, determined not to look at him.

The next three weeks passed by in a flurry of activity. Your parents had found a house in Hammond, Indiana, which was about a 6-hour drive from Hawkins. If you really wanted to visit Steve and the kids, it wouldn’t be that hard.

And As you were packing your car with the last of the boxes, you paused, leaning your weight on the vehicle and looking around. This would probably be the last time you drove out of your neighborhood. A feeling of reminiscence washed over you and you smiled at the good memories you had made here.

You quietly shook your head, trying to psyche yourself up in order to leave. Your parents were already climbing into their sedan and you took a deep breath. “Just get in the car, Y/N. You can do this…” you muttered to yourself.

Slowly, you did just that. The engine turned and the car started after you sighed, getting ready to pull out of Hawkins for what could very well be the last time.

When Billy found out you left without even so much as saying goodbye, it almost broke him. Had he really damaged your relationship that much? If he had, he didn’t know what he was going to do without you. He tried moving on, he really did. But he continued moping around. He didn’t snap at Steve as often, but he was always snarling at Tommy. Max noticed that he barely spoke to her or her friends. His fights with Neil continued to get steadily worse, ending sometimes with both of them sporting broken bones.

And that’s when he realized that he couldn’t live without you.

So after school and another fist fight with his father, he grabbed a change of clothes and shoved it into a backpack. Max watched from her doorway, not daring to step outside. He paused beside her, sighing and ruffling her hair. Surprising them both, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. And he returned the gesture. A single tear fell from his cheek and into her hair when he released her.

“I’ll be back.” he muttered.

He stormed out to his car, slamming the door and revving the engine. As always, the tires left black skid marks on the pavement as he took off, wanting to leave this life as far behind him as he could.

It was about nine by the time you finished unpacking the last of the boxes in the kitchen. Your curls were piled in a pony tail on top of your head to keep them from falling in your face as you worked. Your father sat on the counter with a beer while your mother laughed at him, finishing the rest of the dishes from dinner. You had been unpacking the cookbooks and other odds and ends of things for the kitchen. Music played from the radio in the living room and you felt your chest tighten as a song from Scorpions began to play. It was Billy’s favorite song, The Same Thrill. But you shook your head and didn’t let the smile falter on your face.

Thunder sounded outside and not too long after, the window in the room was lit up by a flash of lightning.

“I’m glad we fixed your window today, Y/N. It shouldn’t leak now. Just to be safe, could you run up and check it for me?” your father said.

You nodded, dusting yourself off as you stood. As you began making your way towards the stairs, a sound caught your attention. You paused in your movements to listen. Pounding? You turned towards the living room and the small hallway that led to the front door. As you got closer, you could hear the pounding intensify and the doorbell start ringing like crazy.

“All right, chill, I’m coming!” you shouted, almost sprinting to the door.

When you opened it, your mouth dropped open and tears sprang to your eyes. Billy was standing there, soaked with rain as it continued to pound him. His hair was plastered to his face and his salty tears mixed with the rain. Thunder crashed again and he grabbed your waist, pulling you outside. You opened your mouth to protest when he smashed his lips against yours in a hungry and possessive kiss.

For a moment, you contemplated shoving him away from you. But after a few seconds, you pushed all thoughts away, giving in to his hungry demands. Your arms snaked around his neck as he held you against him, neither of you caring that you were both now soaked.

Taglist: @jasonscotttrash @hargrovesprincess @ssstutteringbbbill

[the-single-element]

Good morning.

Today, Jesus continues the sermon that began in last week's Good News. He begins speaking about the "Kingdom of God" - an subtle concept, difficult for us to grasp directly, as we've recently discussed.

And in doing so, he tells one of my personal favorite parables, as well as a parable that gives us a hint of the whys behind some of his desperate warnings.

He begins, like last week, with a parable about sowers in a field, and about the crops they grow. In this case, the crops are wheat, and darnel - a well-known poisonous weed of the antique world, which would grow among wheat fields and remain unnoticed until painstakingly sorted out at harvest-time.

That concept - of a Last Judgment - of a harvest time when all will be sorted out, is a concept that the parables which Matthew included in his Good News return to again and again. Matthew was... clearly quite concerned about the world to come, and the "wailing and gnashing of teeth" of those who won't make it there.

But Jesus always casts this as something that will happen... someday. Not today, not tomorrow, and not at a time anyone will expect. Why someday, and not now?

Part of it, certainly, is mercy. Part of it, certainly, is that we don't have a God who wants to condemn, and the longer the wait, the more chances we'll have to enter through the narrow gate.

Part of it is that - as the Wisdom poet reminds us in today's First Reading - justice that is not merciful is not justice in the first place.

But another part of it... Jesus hints at it. If "by their fruits you shall know them", then it's impossible to make those judgments with certainty while the clock's still running, right? Even for God, the outcomes haven't fully unfolded yet while we still have choices left. And perhaps that danger is more grave for us, fully within Time and subjectivity, whose snap condemnation sometimes brings about greater suffering than the crime on which we're passing judgment. Is it strange, then, to suspect that it might make the work of redemption harder too? That it might somehow add to the number of people who, in the final accounting, could not be saved?

That's a dark fear. I fear it too sometimes. I fear that if our modern priests and prelates have indeed inherited, as they claim, the authority to bind and loose, then they are taking just the sort of liberties with it that Jesus lamented - binding things out of a sense of tradition when they might instead be loosing whoever they can get their hands on.

But as though hearing that fear of mine across the centuries, Jesus follows up the parable with another one - one of my favorites - reminding us not to underestimate the Kingdom of Heaven, nor its ability to grow. Because from tiny seeds, it grows into a tree for all the birds of the air to nest in. Just a bit of its yeast can leaven a hundred fifty pounds of dough! We're dealing with our God here, after all. Our God won't be satisfied with a partial victory. Jesus wouldn't have taken the pains he did - to come live among us, to come be human with us - if our God was the kind of god who'd settle for that.

And perhaps that's why he exhorts us again, today, to not settle for that either. To remember how big the Kingdom is, and to not foreclose its size while it's still got farther to grow, but rather, to make room in our hearts for all of it.

Best wishes and blessings to you and yours.

[here-after]

Unfinished Business

The sport that doesn’t love me back.

```

My college ultimate career was over, whether I liked it or not.  For five years, I have committed myself to college ultimate at the expense of nearly all else.  You would think I’d be torn up about my career’s abrupt demise.

```

I made Georgia Tech’s A Tribe Called Tech (Tribe for short) as a freshman and committed myself immediately. College ultimate was a mythic thing to me, so I dove in.  My freshman class was large and bought in across the board.  Through practices and tournaments and long car rides full of conversation, Tribe became my friend group, my haven from school, and the defining part of my college experience.

But on the field, for my first four seasons, I was stuck.  Injuries derailed part or all of every season.  Freshman year: torn quad, missed all of Fall.  Sophomore: hamstring tendonitis, missed all of fall.  Junior: strained quad, missed all of regular season. Senior: torn hamstring, missed all of regular season.  I tried different PT’s, different workout regimes, and took considerable time off from playing club to focus on training my body.  Nothing stuck.

I was effective when I was able to take the field but was certainly not living up to my potential. I made Chain Lightning when I was 19 and subsequently had an excellent sophomore season in what would prove to be my last fully healthy Spring season.  I have not reached the heights of that season since.

For my first four season, Tribe was stuck.  Every year, we showed glimmers of potential and had lofty dreams, but even reaching Sunday bracket play at Regionals—where college ultimate teams truly prove themselves—was out of reach.  We placed worse at Regionals each successive year.  We began 2019 Regionals by taking half on the tournament one seed, UCF.  2.5 games later, our tournament was over.  Three games, three losses, done.  

Over my four years on Tribe, I had committed myself more and more to the team.  I was team President by my third year, Captain by my fourth. I took over planning our team’s workouts, created team bonding activities, and did my best to create a program out of a team.

After our 2019 Regionals loss—our fourth consecutive disappointment—I sat with Micah Jo, one of my freshman class and now my co-captain, and mulled over years of work and continual disappointment.  We had one more chance.

```

My 2019-2020 season was certainly promising: I was leaving the previous season relatively healthy for the first time in years, so I committed myself to training like never before.  I had a workout plan I was incredibly confident in (shout-out GPP!).  Everything was set up for me.  I was past dreaming of individual accomplishments that I had sought as a young player: to be one of the Region’s best players, to be nominated for the Callahan Award, to dominate games like my college ultimate heroes,  Now I would be satisfied with helping my team win, no matter my role.  Was this my year?

Our 2019-2020 season was certainly promising; we graduated few players, retained many, and added proven talent via transfer and exchange.  The past three seasons had been an emotional rebuilding process for Tribe.  We had gone from a disjointed, fragmented team to a unified one thanks to the efforts of previous captains Brandon Chen and Ashwin Anantharaman and new coach Cate Woodhurst.  My co-captains Micah, Arthur Shim, and I decided to push the team to be as competitive as possible.  We had laid the groundwork of positivity, now we needed intensity.  Although Tribe hadn’t done much of note in the last 4 seasons, we had goals of playing deep into Regionals and dreams of making Nationals. Was this our year?

At our first Spring tournament, T-Town Throwdown, my first game began unevenly.  I made some good plays but also had some bad drops.  I was rusty (not a novel condition for me).  I had missed the whole Fall semester with a mysterious knee ailment (after a healthy Summer, I injured my knee at my first Fall practice); an MRI was clean, but pain persisted.  I was a game-time-decision for T-Town, but my knee felt relatively okay, so I suited up for my first regular season game in 3 years. I finished the game with no worsening of the pain, so I kept my cleats on for our second of the day.  Three points in, I collided with a teammate and badly contused my face.  I was done for the tournament.  My injury worries hadn’t been left behind after all, and while my face would heal quickly, my knee would not be so lucky.

At our first tournament, our first game began awfully, generously speaking.  We went down 2-5 to the bottom seed in our pool; doubts immediately crept into my mind: “would this season be another disappointment? Have the last 9 months been for nothing?”  But, defying the weight of our collective past, we pulled out the game and won our pool.  Tribe showed newfound resiliency.  Eventually an injury-shortened roster would catch up with us, but we placed third, an encouraging if not perfect start to the season.

```

As Tribe’s season was building towards something great, mine was rapidly deteriorating.  Since the Fall I had been battling repeated illness, and the numerous bouts finally caught up with me.  I was robbed of consistency in my training and in practice attendance.  After T-Town, my knee pain returned with a vengeance.  My season had fractured from my team’s and would only continue to diverge.

Ultimate has long been my refuge, but it was becoming my torture.  The weeks between T-Town and our next tournament—Florida Warmup—were some of the lowest of my Tribe career.  Sidelined or home sick for practice after practice, I became angry and bitter. Negative thoughts dominated my mind: I could do that better or why does nobody care? or why are we fucking that up for the fifth consecutive year?  Subsequently, I would think get your head out of your ass. I worked hard to suppress my personal torment, but it was undeniable that five years of personal and teamwide disappointment had gotten to me.  I was forced to admit to myself that frequently I wanted to be anywhere but at practice; I invariably left practice seething with anger.  At my team, at my body, at the pain of wanting something so badly and watching my time running out.

```

Tribe had not been invited to Florida Warmup since 2015, and we again began on the wrong foot, to say the least.  In our first game, Tufts took half 1-7, only for us to battle back and tie the game. We lost on double game point, but Tribe again showed immense heart, the likes of which I had not seen before.  We finished pool play 4-2 and squeaked into the bracket.  Our reward? A quarterfinals rematch with Tufts, who had gone 6-0 in pool play.

The game that followed is the best I have ever seen Tribe play.  We began the contest too amped up, and both teams made dangerous bids and committed overzealous turnovers.  We played under the lights on a field equal parts dirt and grass.  Dust flew with every step.

A handful of points in, Tribe found its footing.  Our decisions became smarter and our execution cleaner.  Tufts continued to throw their bodies around and into us; we matched their intensity but exceeded them in judgement.  They laid out into our backs; we got massive clean layout D’s. They grasped for what was just out of reach; we were in control.  We took half 8-6.

In our first game against Tufts, we had turned the tide by switching to zone in the second half.  This time around, we didn’t need a plan B.  We crushed with our discipline and our legs. The dam broke: they stopped getting separation and were reduced to endless swings and wishful hucks.  We stayed our course and played the game I had long hoped we had in us.  When the dust settled, we won 14-7.  Vindication.

```

We went on to lose a double game point heartbreaker to Texas in semis, and then lost the third-place game to Carleton and finished in fourth place.  It was not a perfect tournament (we went 5-4 after all), but it showed that Tribe finally had real ability and the mental fortitude to go with it. Simply put, it was the best tournament performance by Tribe in my 5 years on the team, by far.

Florida Warmup rejuvenated me to some degree.  I re-found my voice as a sideline and leadership presence and lost myself in the game.  It was terrifically fun to watch my hard work bear fruit even if I could not contribute on the field.  And yet, once practices started up again, I fell into many of the same old feelings. My knee was not improving, and I dwelled on how fun and rewarding it would be to truly be part of the team’s success.  I considered asking for time off from practice to make my peace with my role.

And then, of course, coronavirus upended the world.

```

Weeks of uncertainty followed.  It seemed like USA Ultimate was marking time by periodically releasing progressively worse news.  The college season was essentially totally cancelled.  Even as I dealt with the abrupt loss of our season, I also felt a weight lift off my shoulders.  I was free.

I slowly made my peace with our circumstances.  I imagined telling the tragic tale of my fifth year; somehow, the sudden end of the season felt right.  If my college career felt cursed, why not its ending?

```

Then, USA Ultimate made rumor into reality: fifth year players would receive another year of eligibility.

In a way, USA Ultimate’s decision creates the cruelest possible timeline.  My team is graduating ten players.  Only three have the guaranteed option of playing for the team again.  Many of the remaining seven will apply for graduate programs, but that is much less than a sure thing.  Even if they enroll in a master’s program, they will also be working full-time.

But I am one of those lucky three players with a guaranteed opportunity to run it back (I will be in grad school at Georgia Tech).  A sixth year will in many ways feel like a fake season, a shadow of the fifth year that could’ve been.  Every sixth-year player will be a reminder of those that couldn’t be there.  No result will be satisfying—in victory I will wish my teammates could be there with me, in loss I will have infinite what ifs.

I already feel something akin to survivor’s guilt.  My sixth year is not an opportunity I am ready to accept.

```

I miss playing ultimate. More specifically, I miss playing for Tribe.  More truthfully, I miss what Tribe could’ve been.  What I told myself it would be.  What, for a brief time, it was.

[madefromgrace96]

My Current Battle

First and foremost I want to thank whoever created this blog. You are a Godsend. Maladaptive Daydreaming is something I have done for as long as I can remember (if I had to guess I would say sometime in elementary school) so most of my life. It used to be just fantasizing about cartoons and as I got older it would be about TV shows/movies I would watch. For the most part it was harmless, I didn't spend all day daydreaming but a decent amount of time each day. I was still able to enjoy real life and appreciate what I had. I never paid a whole lot of mind to it being an issue until recently. About a year and a half ago I started watching this TV show (I'm not comfortable sharing what show it is just yet) but as I continued watching it I developed a fantasy about the show: the fantasy was about me being a daughter of one of the characters. Again, I had my ups and downs but I still enjoyed real life but it was almost like I had this second life now. This show became a safe haven for me, a comfort blanket. There was very little, if anything, that I disliked about the show. I loved everything about it. I called it my addiction but I still enjoyed real life and overall was happy. I was still able to work on school, my job and my social life just fine, even though this show and my fantasy was on my mind quite a bit. As the school year went on, I became busier and I didn't daydream quite as much and I was perfectly fine with that, I had a lot going on: a mission trip, graduating, and a couple other trips over the summer. I was able (for the most part) to control my daydreaming as I finished up my senior year of college. I was tired, stressed, but happy. Life was overall pretty great...

and then the new season came out. That's where everything went to hell. I had been looking forward to the new season, obsessing about it and wondering what it would entail. The very long wait finally came to an end and I was able to watch it all within 24 hours with my parents and best friend. Something happened in the second episode that absolutely crushed me. I went to bed angry and kind of hurt, this character that I really looked up to did something that I didn't care for. I figured I would get over it soon enough and by the end of the season things would be resolved. Well, they weren't really, and because of that character (which used to be my favorite) was the only reason why I despised the season (take him away and the season was pretty darn good). It's been about four and a half months since then. A third of a year has gone by. "Just give it time" I told my self "eventually you will get over how you feel and enjoy the show again." To this day I have not watched it since (with the exception of a few clips pf the show). A few weeks went by and then a month. I still could not get over my hurt and disappointment from the show and this character. I kept telling myself "there are people dying of cancer, losing jobs, losing their homes, they're broke, there's world hunger, there are wars going on and you're over here upset and depressed over some TV show. Frankly, I was a mixture of frustration, shame and embarrassment. Why was I letting this show rule over my life? I kept it bottled up at first; surely, people would think me deranged if I told them about what I was going through and they will probably try and put me in a mental hospital (okay that part I knew was a bit exaggerated but still).

One day at work I felt like I was about to crumble, I was barely functioning. My mom and I were supposed to go see a movie that evening but instead I ended up a big emotional mess and telling my mom about what was going on. Surprisingly, she was a lot more supportive and nonjudgmental than I thought she would be. I ended up telling my best friend about it too around this time and she reacted about the same way, which I was very thankful for. I can't remember if I told my grandma before or after but I told her too. At first she seemed kind of taken aback, which would be normal but she was still very supportive and understanding. I don't know if you're spiritual, religious, etc. or not but I am and through the last few months I realized a few things: this TV show had become an idol over the past year and a half and had slowly become the top priority over time, even above God, which is not good. This second thing is kind of strange but it has to do with forgiveness. I know that the people in this show are not real but I was harboring anger, resentment and hurt over this character and even though they are fictional, I still felt the need to forgive them and pray about it. My thought at first were "you're crazy, you can't pray for someone and forgive someone that doesn't exist" and I shoved the thought aside at first but eventually I didn't know what else to do so I started to pray and work on forgiveness.

I realized after a bit that even though this person isn't real, I could still learn from this experience and apply what I was learning to my own life. Another reason why I think this has been such a struggle to let go of is because I'm not in school anymore (I'm taking my final class online as we speak and I'm just now halfway through it). The previous five years I spent with friends, going to class, studying, working, and being involved in different things on campus. Since I walked at graduation last May all of that went away and I have a lot more "free time" to daydream. Some days are better than others, through this whole thing I am learning to lean on God and trust in Him. For a while I would try to find another TV show/movie series to take the place of the show I am so obsessed with or I would watch something to what I thought was keep my mind busy and heal but later on I discovered that I was really just trying to hide my emotions and pain by pushing it away and burying it rather than solving it. In a nutshell, this is what I've been dealing with/focusing on/learning from, etc. over these last almost five months:

* Anger/Bitterness

*Sadness

*Hurt

*Depression/Anxiety

*Frustration

*Confusion

*How to cope

*Letting go and forgiving

*To stop idolizing

*Focus and draw closer to God

*Enjoy life as it is

*Learning how to find joy in being uncomfortable

*Laughing and smiling through painful and hard times

*Fear

*Trusting God

*Patience

*Being still

I think these mainly cover it, I'm sure there are a few other things but these were on the ones on the top of my head. So, where am I at today?

almost two weeks ago I was having a bad day and I drove myself to a local park and prayed to God and spent time reflecting and processing, I  finally came to the conclusion that I was going to have to pray even harder and ask God to take these thoughts and fantasies away. "Alright God" I told him "take this away from me, I don;'t want them anymore. This is destroying my life, I'm giving this to you now, it's in your hands. Take it, I don't want it anymore." It's been up and down ever since, some days  are better than others. Every time I think of fully detaching myself from this show and the fantasies I've created from it, I feel myself being pulled back. "If you let this all go, think about what you will miss out on. Remember how much fun it was and how much comfort and joy it brought you?" The little sneaky voice inside my head would tell me. It's so hard because I still love this show and sometimes I think I'm better and I find myself wondering if and when I will be ready to watch this show again. I've been reading books, watching inspirational and encouraging videos and trying to find anything that will make me laugh and will bring me happiness but I'm working on my purpose for doing these things to be on my relationship with God to get better for Him and for myself, rather than getting better so that I can watch this TV show again. If the time comes, someday I will hopefully be able to watch it again but in the mean time I'm working on getting healthier again for me and for God. It's far from easy, it's so so so hard!

I just wish there could be a switch I could flip to make this all go away, but unfortunately there isn't; that's just not how life works. Today I took a "mental health" day from work (basically I just called in sick). Along with my maladaptive daydreaming, I'm working a part time job that isn't the greatest and I'm trying to get through my last class of my bachelor's degree. The motivation is very hard to grasp these days making daily tasks difficult and drawn out. My car officially conked out last week and I don't have money to get a new one right now so I'm sharing vehicles with my parents (what fun) and yes I still live at home (hey, it's cheaper!). I've struggled with loneliness off and on my whole life and with know longer living on a small campus being surrounded by people, loneliness is definitely here and it doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. I'm also on a 21 day from social media and although it's been good to get away from the toxicness (I don't think this is a word but I'm going with it) social media is a way for me to keep in touch with people and it's my main way of socializing with others so that has increased the loneliness. I am trying to take this time of being lonely to spend it with God and to grow more in Him.

I spent last night and today in what I call "mourning" because I'm having such a hard time letting these fantasies go. This show, these characters, have become my family and although I know I will one day get through this, the taunting lie of "you might never get through this" is haunting me. So that's where I am and for the most part, this is my story. I'm currently sitting here in my bed, smoke coming my fingers due to writing this "novel" and trying my best to stay positive and to feel better. I didn't even know maladaptive daydreaming was an actual thing until last week and when I discovered it, I was so thankful and glad to know I wasn't alone in this. If anyone has any suggestions, coping strategies, advice, etc. I would very gladly and gratefully take it. Thanks for reading this and God bless you all!

[xottzot]

2018-03(FEB)-Wednesday-7th--damn feral urban cats spreading filth & diseases here at this hellhole.

2018-03(FEB)-Wednesday-7th--damn feral urban cats spreading filth & diseases here at this hellhole.

Firstly, let me state this right off the bat for the dickheads that go searching for ANY way out of that they are so braindead opposed to... - I like cats. I love cats. Growing up here my dear mother here had 12 cats at our house, the same house now a hovel I am trapped in. - We LOVED those cats deeply. Some were personally rescued cats, rescued cats even by myself as a boy then youth for otherwise they would have VERY SURELY died or been killed.

And my dear Mum went out of her way to care for all our cats, safely, humanely, and LONG LONG before any of the bullshit 'caring' became a fashion trend, she was doing it because...it was the right thing to do, not because now it's 'trendy' and can be a hook to blog about, or boast to others, or post pathtic photos of, or any other such utter shit.

That's how we ended up with 12 cats. We rescued and saved from death some pregnant cats too. All of which ballooned the number up to 12. We were utterly poor. VERY POOR. Not the bullshit 'poor' of today where people think they're poor if they haven't got access to the internet and latest itune noise blasting about, no.....we were VERY POOR. We were always struggling for food, and paying for ANY bills, let alone for an education growing up an all its costs, and the rent, and for everything else. We had no car or any vehicle at all. We had no money or any means to have one, let alone being able to afford to forever pay all the damned costs involved.

And our cats were humanely sterilised. At our own cost. Again, something that these days is accepted and normal but back then it wasn't, and it was VERY expensive.

(DEAR FLISS....are you reading this and getting the notions of how much I knew so much about the damned local vet and his services (cats & dogs and everything), and why I always found so much grief in my life from it all (not just from what I've been wring about the cats here).

But YOU dear Fliss don't care. - You've gone past caring about anyone or anything, no, you just pretend to care and to make it look 'real' to others. And they fall for all your bullshit. - And do YOU as well believe your own bullshit?

Dearest Mum kept our cats in an outside large cage, again something far ahead of its time in doing, which is done now as a matter of course elsewhere (other than this fucking hellhole area), but don't you EVER think that our dear cats suffered. They were doted on and much loved and kept comfortable as much as we could, fed generously, always with water available of course....and so much more I'm not going into now.

I'm sick and tired of always having to over-explain things because shit-for-brains reading this will dive upon one apsect of anything I write (even typos) and use that as a mental 'get-out clause' for them to justify ther own imbecility and brainlessness and dismiss me as a real person or anything I write.

We also had a 'rota system' whereby cats would spend a day/night inside this house and slept with us and of course were much loved, doted on, given tidbits of extra food and so on. And they were allowed to perch themselves on the window sills and watch the world outside this house/hovel. -- Of all of this I DO have some personal photos of for proof. But I'm NOT ever posting them anymore. NOBODY FUCKING BELIEVES OR APPRECIATES ANYTHING ANYWAY, ESPECIALLY ONE PERSON THAT MATTERS.

When I told dear Fliss about all this many decades later after Mum had died, Fliss would always sigh and nod in appreciation, "Your mum was ahead of her time."

She was and still is.

The Swan Shire Council seems as if it took what she had been doing for so MANY years and used it as a blueprint for their own animal policies throughout their vast areas of shire goverened area. Yes, it almost seems that way because dear Mum was so socially far ahead of her time.

Back then when Mum was alive, there WERE a very few feral cats roaming around this area, but they were always kept in check and bounded by so many DECENT neighbours, who also had dogs and such. (the area was much more rural back then too, including sheep, snakes, goannas, a few scant horses on the roads....)

OUR cats were so well behaved and trained, that they remained IN OUR YARD ALL DAY. They did NOT spend all their day locked up in that cage. (that situation came MANY DECADES later after tragedy)

I STILL have the frame of that cage. It will still exist after I am dead.

And don't think that I'm saying this as some shitty braineless people do today ALL THE TIME saying that THEIR cats NEVER roam about....oh,no, no no.......when in fact THEIR fucking cats DO ROAM ABOUT EVERYWHERE AND ARE NEVER CONSTRAINED. - AND IF EVER CONTACTED/BERATED BY AUTHORITIES THEY ALWAYS LIE & BLEAT THAT IT'S NOT THEM IT MUST BE 'SOMEBODYE ELSES FAULT'.

But that's as maybe, because filthy disased feral cats are now also utterly rampant all about this hellhole area, attacking and breeding with all other cats which nobody cares about either because owners here are brainless, and drug addicts, and the feral cats spread disease EVERYWHERE with their constant shitting and pissing all over the place, in & on any gardens in ANY patch of ground, walking over cars and car windscreens, ferreting in amongst pets food bowls and water bowls (and diseasing them), ferreting in garbage on the ground from rubbish bins and filthy dirty nappies, attacking any other creatures and killing them such as wildlife creatures whether they're endangered or not (the about of killed bird bodies I've had to clean up!), and on and on and on.....

Wild birds get in amongst all the foul cat shit, insects get in amongst all the foul cat shit...and it's all carried about and spread around to further spread disease.

There's shitheads in houses that don't give a fuck about anything because they are so useless, and that includes the criminal fuckers of this hellhole area, and they allow the damn feral cats to to roam all about their yards, and INTO their houses......and shitheads wonder why they get sick? And any dogs around get sick? - Nope, they never make any connections because they're too busy being drunk, drugged-up with illegal drugs, or are always so brainless not to give a shit about anyone or anything, even themselves.

THIR CARS (so highly inasanely cherished) get piss and shit over them.....and the shitheads still just can't figure it out.

Shitty people of the many in their households get ill.....and the shitheads just can't figure it out. Even toddlers. - (the shitty people are so very foul themselves ALL of the time in any case).

Medico's can't figure out why certain diseases are becoming more prevalent and humans suddenly need urgent medical attention, when the medico's thought they had certain diseases stamped out or fully under control. - And yet they STILL keep exploding in reported frequency. That's being reported in the media NEWS more and more. They can't figure it out so it's all passed off and written off as just stupid NEWS.

The useless shitheads in this hellhole, the drug addicts and all manner of fuckwits and criminals, they just see the feral diseased cats as some sort of freebie plushies that roam about and they let around & into their houses anytime the cats want or demand. The shitheads probably mutter to themselves, 'that's what we do anyway'.

The feral cats actually crisscross all over the roads going from house-to-house, (there's SO MANY shitheads in homes here of course), yard-to-yard, fouling up places, stealing food, (even food left out for them by shitheads that goes foul & rancid), which the wild crows (birds) of this hellhole area ALSO ferret in and carry about and spread diseases all about to animals and humans alike. -- (it's ALL connected.)

But the shitheads don't give a flying shit about actually doing the REAL things that comes with being responsible owners of animals, after all the feral cats are just 'wild' and 'belong to nobody' and so they never have to think about them or what they do. - The shitheads will actually actively encourage (and chase off) the damn feral cats to go elsewehere to piss & shit elsewhere and foul and disease up OTHER PEOPLES household properties...just so the damn things can't return and not do it in THEIR OWN yards and houses.

IT IS AGAINST THE LAW HERE to not control your cats and dogs. - But as always, the criminals and criminal asociates and customers don't give a shit about ANY laws. - That's been shown countless times to the authorities and Police who come to this hellhole area and just CAN NOT BELIEVE ANYTHING abut his hellhole area, and so they refuse to. (and that includes ALL manner of crimes and criminality so don't YOU just think it's just about cats, or dogs or anything 'minor' to you grasping mind). - The dogs are wild, and vicious and barely kept leashed let alone not kept form running about the streets at will. The drug shitheads use them to keep themselves 'safe' from other drug shitheads and criminals of this hellhole area too.....and to drive off the shitting pissing feral cats.....

And because I don't allow our poor dogs to do the same, as do the rapidly diminishing numbers of responsible dog owners about here, the foul diseased feral cats have been increasingly infesting the yard of this hovel.

If YOU think all this about the damn feral cats is 'new' at this hellhole, IT'S NOT, but it has skyrocketted IMMENSELY over the past few years since Fliss left in 2015. She has NO IDEA of the current state of this hellhole area. (other than perhaps secretly reading about it from this blog of mine.)

It's VERY RECENTLY ALSO MADE THE NEWS IN AUSTRALIA...see:------ Cat plague is back after nearly 40 years in hiding — here's what you need to know

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-02-06/cat-plague-is-back-after-nearly-40-years-in-hiding/9401794

There is NOT ONE DAY where evidence everyday I have to attend to here in my own backyard of this hovel to clean up that shows where the shitty feral cats have't been fouling up everything. As a cat owner (of many year past), I easily see all the signs of them...the pissing upon EVERYTHING, the SHITTING EVERYWHERE, the clawing with sharp claws destroying any and everything......and of course the CONSTANT bringing in of tranmissable diseases that affect dogs and any human just the same and make them VERY ill, and in the case of dogs, it can kill innocent dogs.

The shitheads will just mutter...so what, it doesn't mean anything...it's just dogs....it's just cats...it's just (insert ANYTHING) to diminish their right to live.

No wonder crime and shit's so utterly rampant and forever escalating with brainless shitheads being accepted as being 'normal' these days. They are just that...brainless shitheads. So fucking well stop listening to THEM and doing what THEY demand you do. - And that goes for the criminals as well.

Criminals everywhere have not only surpassed being contained and controlled by law & order & authorities & government, but they actually forcibly dictate demands & terms and get them followed....for their benefits of course.

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For the past few days and nights there has been a temporary 'lull' in the CONSTANT shit happening in this hellhole area, but it's STILL going on, albeit at a much 'quieter' level and at more easily overlooked aspects. - It HAS NOT GONE AWAY.

I expect that's ONLY because of the huge time-delay aspects of criminal actions being dealt with by authorities and Police and legal authorities. All of which fakes to make this appear as if things are 'solved' and there's nothing to worry about for them anymore.

But shit is still going on.

Even the newest neighbours STILL just can't figure out in their brains that the VERY ONES they associate with ,....are the VERY ones doing so much crime and shit all about.....and then again, THEY are also criminal.....

Drug addicts letting drug dealers do whatever the hell they want just so they can always get THEIR drugs and shit....

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I love you dearest Fliss. I want to be with YOU. This hellhole has become so much worse since you fled in late in 2015, but you have no idea at all, not even from my writings because there is a HELL of a lot of stuff I never put in my blog writings because NOBODY would believe me AT ALL. The useless authorities don't give a shit. Or they'll mutter that its not 'their responsibility'. - I REALLY MISS NOT HAVING MY GUNS ANYMORE FROM DECADES AGO. - I was a fool to hand them in to authorities MANY YEARS before it was ever became a mandatory law. An Australian LAW that nowadays is just looked over as if it doesn't even exist any more. get caught with an illegal & unregistered gun...no problems...just get a fine and move on..... -- WHEN LAW & RULES ARE NOT CONSTANT AND APPLICABLE TO ALL, THEN THERE IS NO REAL LAW & RULES.-- I love you dearest Fliss. I want to be with YOU.

P.S.:--- Dear Cath will rue the day she gave up her muzzleloader guns if she becomes the victim of crime.