#also remembering how a few months ago i was having my usual breakdown and support staff kept coming in my house to help

[nature-played-a-trick-on-me]

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[stuckybarton]

Manifestation of Happy Endings

SUMMARY: "Everyone deserves a happy ending, even you." CHARACTERS: Stephen Strange x Reader; Wong. Cloakie [Cloak of Levitation], Wong. Asshole Tony Stark. WARNINGS: Slight Angst. Brief Description of A Kiss. Toxic Way of Moving on from An Ex(for Tony, not the reader) WORDS: 2,704 MASTERLIST || Join the Taglist

~

Part 4 STREETLIGHT

One of the things Stephen Strange had never thought he would ever have in his life again was a woman he loved--loving so much that he was willing to endure what he was in this very moment.

Nothing scared him more than having to think of the perfect way to propose to his girlfriend. Nothing scared him shitless than the idea of you rejecting his proposal and the crack begins to form in your stable relationship.

You were doing alright, for the past few months since you started dating Stephen--or at least that was what Stephen had gotten out of Wong whenever the two of you would be deep in conversation in either the library or the kitchen.

With his responsibility as the Sorcerer Supreme and helping saving the Universe on a daily basis, he never had a perfect opportunity to propose. And when he did found the momentary courage, you would be pulled into a book tour all around the country, leaving him to device a plan with Wong on how to actually propose.

"Maybe a candlelit dinner?" Wong had offered, attention still focused on the new book you had given him--the very reason as to why you were gone for well over a month now.

"Too predictable." Stephen snorted.

Candlelit dinner was already a common occurrence between the two of you, with the rare free time, you'd often find yourself just making a hearty meal for the two of you while Stephen was in charge of setting the mood in the dinner table. It was better than heading to a restaurant, getting recognized, and having to deal with the news still circulating about you and your separation from Tony Stark all those months ago.

"Then do something you won't usually do." Wong continued on turning the page to your book.

You loved going on walks. Even with the daily chaos of New York Streets could offer, you always loved being able to go outside, look around and get as much inspiration as you could for any upcoming books you were writing. Outside to some fresh air and sunlight you often tease Stephen of not having enough of because of his duties.

Maybe taking you out on a hike somewhere could be good. A good change of pace, then he could find a perfect spot to just bend on one knee and asked you to be his wife.  Easier said than done when he comes to think more through with the plan. He doesn't know any good hiking trails in New York and it looked more taxing for either of you.

"She says she always wanted to go on road trips across the country." Wong finally made a suggestion. "Why don't the two of you drive to Vegas or something else hedonistic for once."

The suggestion doesn't sound too bad. You did enjoy car rides, Stephen had come to realize. Since his accident years ago, he tried his best to avoid car rides, mostly not needing to since he could create portals to travel to different location his mind can conjure. The first time he had actually enjoyed being inside a car that wasn't his own was with you, as you two made your way to lunch.

He could still remember the way you would allow him to pick the song for the quick ride and how you would jam to whatever was on the radio. It brought a smile on his face now, remembering the patience of a saint you had whenever he would act like a backseat driver if you turn into a different route.

A thirty hour drive would be a nightmare for him, but if he had you, it doesn't sound as bad.

Before he could conjure up the plan, the simple ding of his phone brought his attention away from his plan. A text from you, from a phone you had hesitantly brought under your agent and manager's insistence.  It also meant Stephen had more use of his own and Wong somehow found himself with one as well thanks to you--not wanting him to be left out.

Stark is here. I don't know what to do.

"I'll be right back." Stephen told his friend before conjuring a portal with his sling ring to bring him to California where you were currently having your Open forum.

~

In an audience capacity of a thousand, Alex Theatre was full pack. But among the faces in the crowd. A handful had stood out the most. Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, and one Peter Parker. It was hell and sending Stephen a quick text about it was the only solution you could think of at the moment.

You were to be talking to the audience for a good hour and a half and be open for a few questions, but just the fact that the people you wanted nothing to do with anymore was in the room had you scared.

You no longer had the feelings you once had for Tony, but you were simply scared of the repercussions that would come with Stephen knowing about it.

You knew that Stephen would try confronting Tony, but that would complicate the situation more than it should. Knowing you refused to let any of them know your whereabouts or the fact that you were closer than any of them had actually thought you would be.

"Y/N?"

At the familiar voice of your boyfriend, you were momentarily felt at ease as you tried your best to calm down and stop the possible mental breakdown you were having knowing your ex was in the building. The backstage looked smaller than it really was.

Wrapped in his arms, the fear was placed at ease. You rested your cheeks on his chest, arms sliding around his waist as he pulled you closer to him. Hands cradling the back of your head.

"You okay?" He asked.

You didn't respond, instead pulling him closer to you. Fearing that if you let him go now the man would make his way to the audience and talk some sense to Tony.

"I'm nervous about this, even if he wasn't here." You muttered.

This was the first tour you had done in years. Having lost inspiration in writing because of the stagnation in your relationship, you were still worried about what the world would react to your new book, how they would think of you now that you were no longer the woman constantly attached to Tony Stark's side in public events.

As much as your team had constantly hyped you up, with colorful reviews on your latest book, it was still different from the last one you had done, the difference was caused by this man in front of you, holding you into him like you were made of fine porcelain.

It was difference you always needed in your life, but you fear the reception of it wouldn't be well received by your supporters and your fanbase.

"Let's drive to Vegas after your tour." Stephen's suggestion had surprised you.

You were expecting his usual dry humor, but you were welcomed with something entirely different from the man. Driving across country was something you always wanted to experience, but knowing Stephen's accident, you never suggested the activity.

"I'm driving." You were quick to volunteer.

"I expecting nothing less." He smirked looking down at you. For a moment, you couldn't help but just look down at him. How his blue eyes could look at you like they did, adoration and love. "Want to get married in Vegas?" He offered.

The last question had you shoving him away and glaring at him. The hell was he talking about.

"That's not funny, Strange." You warned.

"It's not a joke." Stephen assured with a smile.

And just like that, the man had fallen to this knees in front of you. The people backstage were witnessing and squealing on your behalf as you stood stock still in front of the man.

"I was planning on proposing on our drive to Vegas, but now is a good time as any to do so. Y/N Y/L/N, you had turned my world upside down the moment you fall face first in the café all those months ago, how you had repaid me with coffee and a deli sandwich when it was my cloak that saved you. How you made the sanctum a home, how you became a part of the team in your own special way. I love you and I wish to be able to spend the rest of my days with you. "

You were left dumbfounded and before you could do anything, you fell to your knees in front of the man even before he could ask you the question, you had said yes. Over and over you had accepted his proposal even without hearing the question. You were happy with Stephen, more than you had ever thought you would ever be since.

"Yes. A million times yes." You muttered wrapping your arms around him and kissing him square on the lips. After a moment of clapping from the people backstage, the momentary embarrassment had settled you but Stephen was quick to make the situation better.  Standing the two of you back up to your feet, he had finally opened the velvet box to a sight that took your breath away.

A vintage, emerald cut diamond ring. Plucking the ring with his shaky hand he had slid it onto your ring finger before kissing your hand. An affection you were so used to seeing from Stephen at the privacy of the sanctum or your apartment.

"I can't be like Tony and give you the world, but I'll be me and give you my life and the time I left when I'm not saving the world to you."

You smiled at his promise. It was reasonable, a part of him that you will never make him choose between.  Knowing he was going to be making an effort was enough for you as you nodded and kissed him once again before you were finally announced to head out.

"I'll be waiting here, break a leg!" Stephen smiled breathless as you finally stepped out to the crowd, a quick round of applause had sounded as you made your way to the podium. Hugging the MC for the event before turning to face everyone, including the likes of Tony Stark in the crowd.

"Sounds like something important happened backstage." The MC smiled knowing how he had to drag the introductions longer than needed because of what Stephen had done.

"My boyfriend proposed to me." You beamed showcasing the ring that now wrapped around your finger to the crowd.

"Congratulations. Who's the lucky guy?" The MC inquired and for a moment your eyes turned towards Tony, and for once you finally saw something you had never thought you'd see in his eyes. Regret. It wasn't satisfaction that you felt, more like this closure you never thought you could have left after all was said and done with him.

"He's a private guy. But I'm happy, the happiest I had ever been in my life." You responded before turning your eyes back towards the curtains where you saw Stephen was watching, a beaming smile was on his face. "He's actually watching backstage," you turned back to the crowd. "So if by any chance I stop mid sentence throughout, it's still the adrenaline from his proposal manifesting, so blame him okay?" You teased earning a laugh from the crowd.

"So I don't need to ask it then, who is your muse for your new book?"

You blushed hesitantly turning to Stephen as the humor lingered on his features. It was an open secret that he was but it's weird having to say it with him in attendance. Easier when he was miles away from you.

"If you're happy, you become inspired." You shrugged hoping that is enough explanation for it. "And from the reviews I've gotten since the book's launch, everyone could see that." You beamed.

"So before we get started in the plotline and the theme of the story, can you tell us about the process of this book from your head to the printing press?"

You cleared your throat knowing that this question would be coming. It wasn't long before you needed to address it and knowing now would be the best time to do so before you finally close the chapter in your life for good.

"I've been in a slump for over a year and a half, my agent and my editors couldn't bring me into writing anything substantial, I blame myself and what my previous relationship had done to me." You spoke honestly, eyes momentarily focusing towards Tony before lingering back to the listening crowd. "It's one thing to be in a relationship filled with arguments and resentment; it was another when you're the only one trying in the relationship that everything else in your life seems--meaningless."

You could still remember the life you had wasted for the years of being with your ex. How you had loved finally gaining your independence and being able to be happy again without needing to think about him and his well being most of the time.

"I found myself out of that environment and found myself in a much different one. I met this man in the café, saved before I face planted onto the floor in front of the bustling crowd. And the rest as they say is history." You added. "Because of this said man, I've found myself writing more than I thought I'd actually do since moving on from my ex. I'd be in his library for hours on until I could see the moonlight glowing below the two of us. And I just found myself writing a love story instead of a story about moving on."

You somehow found yourself chuckling at the last bit as you had come to realize something about your relationship with Stephen.

"I'm actually going to marry my rebound." You had announced somehow far too proudly earning a laugh from the crowd in the process. "So ladies and gentlemen, if you think the most serious relationship you have right now had failed, there is always someone out there meant for you. You just need to get out of your comfort zone."

~

"You two look ridiculous." Wong was quick to point out as the beaming smile on both of your faces lingered.

An hours previously, you had been officially married to Dr. Stephen Vincent Strange. Wearing the same dress you had on during your talk and only now adorned in a small veil you've purchased in the Vegas strip as you and Stephen had looked for a semi-decent individual to officiate your wedding.

You made it evident that Wong should also be joining, not just as a witness but as part of the family. The man had been there throughout the start of your relationship and it was only fitting to have him in this new chapter as well. Married and whatever the universe would throw the two of them from this day forward.

"We can always go to a strip club to celebrate." Stephen had teased, arm wrapped around your shoulder as the three of you had walked around the strip, caring less at this point if anyone would recognize any of you.

You smiled agreeing playful just to see Wong stutter and try his best to change the subject.

"We promise that the bigger wedding would be more tame than this." You had assured your friend. "And Stephen will make you his Best man." You had pointed out to your--husband.

The word felt still as foreign in your tongue but a welcome change it seems. Holding onto Stephen's free hand, the rings you've picked from the nearby jewelry store was perfect in it's own special way. The streetlight glowing all throughout made the rings sparkle and the smile on your face growing bigger than ever.

"Why do I think he will go more bridezilla than you?" Wong teased earning a glare from Stephen but the lack of a genuine retort made it evident between the three of you how right Wong's word were.

[doeilovr]

can’t take my eyes off you

-> Requested by @sunflowerforhaechan-recs (thank youu so much berry ♡) “What just happened?” or "You’re really something else” for Haechan, please can you make it angsty with a fluffy ending?! Thank you so much ♡

-> Haechan x Reader, angst + fluff, around 1.2k words

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was Saturday night and you and Haechan were on your way home from your typical Saturday date night.

You two had started doing this a few months ago. Either you or Haechan would plan the date night - it was mostly going out for dinner or visiting the movie theater.

Of course you had dates on other days too, but since both of you enjoyed staying in together and were happy just cuddling while watching some Netflix, you had decided it was mandatory to go out on Saturdays.

But somehow today wasn’t at all what you had expected. Maybe it was because Haechan was stressed from work these days, often finding himself working until late at night. It probably was.

Or so you told yourself. Deep down you were kind of scared that maybe he was sick of you already? Maybe he had fallen out of love?

So tonight, while the two of you sat in a fancy restaurant in untypical silence, you brought up your concerns. And to your surprise Haechan reacted with an annoyed huff, chewing on the inside of his cheeks like he usually did when he was mad.

He only shrugged you off with an “it’s nothing”, before you continued eating in silence. You would lie if you said you weren’t hurt by his cold behavior. Or that you didn’t excuse yourself to the bathroom after finishing your pasta to try to not burst out in tears.

And now you were driving home and none of you had exchanged a word yet. Haechan was focused on the street, one hand on the steering wheel, while he supported his head with the other.

You were thankful for the only source of light coming being the lively city outside, so Haechan couldn’t really see the tear that rolled down your cheek.

You couldn’t help yourself, you just hated to fight with him. After driving for some time, you realized how silent it actually was in the Mercedes.

“Can I turn on some music”, you almost whispered, feeling nervous to interrupt the silence in the car. Haechan only hummed, not even sparing you a glance.

You picked up his phone that was connected to the speakers, choosing from a number of songs from his many many playlists.

You almsot jumped when a familiar melody filled your ears. Quickly you put down the phone and turned your head to look out of the window again.

Haechan finally moved in his seat, curiously glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, before he looked at the radio as if he couldn’t believe your choice of music.

You had put on Frankie Valli’s Can’t Take My Eyes off You, a song he remembered dancing to with you before.

Haechan wasn’t the epitome of romantic, but every now and then he found a way to sweep you off your feet, even after dating for some time now. Was it either with serenading you his current favorite song or spontaneously dancing in the rain with you.

As the car halted at a red light, Haechan used the opportunity to fully turn his head and look at you. Wondering why out of all the songs you had chose this one, at this moment.

Haechan was surprised when he saw the tears that rolled down your cheek. You were fully sobbing next to him and he hadn’t even noticed.

You didn’t even realize that your boyfriend stared at you, using your concentration to not make too much noise as you let out all your built up emotions.

Haechan was quick to leave the busy street, taking a few turns, before he entered a parking garage, where he drove up to the second floor, randomly parking his car somewhere.

He turned off the engine, the music fading aswell. Now the uncomfortable silence from before was back and only the sound of your muted sobbing was heard.

“Now tell me”, Haechan sighed, unbuckling his seat belt and turning his body a bit more in your direction.

You looked up at him, almost startled. Haechan tilted his head at you. “Why are you crying?”

“You hate me, don’t you? All I wanted was to help you, but you just brushed me off”, you sniffled, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of your jacket.

Haechan looked at you for a moment, before he chuckled loudly. “Do you really think I hate you? You? You, the literal love of my life? My partner in crimes? My one and only?”

You blinked at Haechan, but he only smiled, reaching his hand out to dry your tears.

“I’m just tired, I guess. I had a really tough couple of weeks at work. And sometimes I just don’t feel like talking, as we usually do. But that doesen’t mean I hate you, baby”, he explained, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“So, you’re not mad at me?” You bit your lips, finally calming down from your little breakdown.

Haechan chuckled again. “No, baby. Never was. Never will be”, he assured. “Now come here. Let me hug you.”

You smiled, leaning forward to hug Haechan over the middle console. Haechan patted your back for some time, before he cupped your face and softly placed a kiss on your lips.

“I love you” you whispered against his lips. A wide smile quickly appeared on Haechan’s face, making your heart flutter a bit.

“I love you, baby”, Haechan whispered in a singing tone, imitating the song that played earlier. You snorted, his usual mischievous behavior coming through again.

“Alright”, Haechan then leaned back again, continuing to stare straight ahead. You also leaned back, watching your boyfriend curiously.

“What just happened”, Haechan mumbled, scratching his head, “I hope you’re not disappointed with our Saturday date night. I’m sorry I kind of ruined it.”

Haechan turned his head to you, guilt written all over his face. You quickly reassured him with a smile. “You didn’t ruin anything, Haechanie. And besides, it’s only nine. The night isn’t over yet”, you shrugged.

You watched Haechan’s expression change. A smile once again spreading on his lips. “You’re right. We should go home and end the day with some cuddling and Netflix. But first”, he snipped his fingers, picking up his phone and typing a few things.

You blinked at him, wondering what kind of weird idea he just had. Haechan turned the engine back on, before he opened the driver’s door and got out.

He walked around the car, smoothly opening your door and helping you out. “What are we doing”, you wondered, tightly holding onto your boyfriend’s hand.

Haechan smirked at you, before he grabbed his phone from his car, turning the music back on. The same song from before started playing, but this time louder.

Then he lead you in front of the car, where the headlights of the Mercedes created a romantic atmosphere.

“May I have this dance”, Haechan bowed, already holding your hand. You chuckled, bowing too. “You may.”

Haechan smiled at you, his hand finding your waist to pull you closer to him, before the two of you started dancing.

And just like that all your worries and concerns were completely flushed away. And as you looked into Haechan’s eyes, swaying to the melody of the music, you were once again reminded of why you loved him so much.

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a/n: I hope you enjoy this one.. took me a bit longer hehe but.. imagine dancing with Hyuck late at night :3 or just imagine dancing with Hyuck :3 or just imagine Hyuck :3

[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 1 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader, seo changbin x female reader for like 2 minutes ⇢ word count 7.5k ⇢ genre fluff, angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way), slight smut ⇢ warnings drug use!!! & lots of it (marijuana), grinding, implied smut ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n yo!!! disclaimer: this initially was going to just be a long one shot but i decided to split it up into 3 parts, so just to let u all know part 1 & 2 does not have a ton of hyunjin interaction, they’re more character/plot building. part 3 is when things will get spicy ♥︎ i hope u enjoy! if u rb make sure to let me know what u thought in the tags mwah also i finally switched from ___ to yn are u guys proud of me :)

prelude.

Sometimes you really, truly, honestly think you could go right ahead and kill Han Jisung.

You say it all the time. Sometimes it’s a simple, “I will literally kill you,” or when you are feeling extra spicy, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.” He, of course, laughs it off like you aren’t vibrating with the urge to kick his kneecaps in. You seriously have lost count of all the times he has brought you to the brink of insanity.

And honestly, you have watched enough murder documentaries on Netflix that you probably could do it, but, you know, spending the rest of your life in prison does not sound that appealing. Plus, there’s the ever-troubling detail that Han Jisung is the closest thing you have to a best friend. So, it sort of goes against your basic human morals to backstab—literally—the most important human in your life.

But he really makes you crazy. Why you agreed to share an apartment with him in the first place is a mystery, but the fact that you leased it again for junior year is what really makes you lose sleep at night. Because, while he may be your best friend, Jisung is the epitome of a little shit. If such a compound word was in the dictionary, it simply would say ‘Han Jisung.’ Somehow, though, it makes you love him even more. Maybe it’s true that ‘opposites attract,’ or, perhaps, maybe it’s because no matter how much embarrassment and general self-loathing he may have caused you in the past, it has benefitted you in the end.

For example, his constant teasing about your lack of friends eventually led to you befriending a group of girls you always admired from afar. His snarky comments concerning your nonexistent social life finally got to you and now you can proudly wear the title of one of the best beer pong players in your class. His presence in general has taught you to stand up for yourself and what you believe in, whether it’s against him, your parents, a toxic friend, hell, even a professor. Proving people wrong, especially Jisung, is your favorite pastime.

Sometimes, though, it’s not that easy.

There’s one area in your life where you have accepted defeat. One area in your life where Jisung has his most fun. One area, or, perhaps one person, where you simply cannot step beyond your comfort zone.

Hwang Hyunjin is your Achilles tendon and Jisung is the arrow. There are times, along with all the times you’ve considered strangling Jisung in his sleep, where you have sat and actually prayed to the gods to send someone else. Someone not nearly as perfect as Hyunjin and someone not nearly as unattainable. Alas, these prayers, hook-ups, Tinder dates, anything to get him off your mind has proved futile; because here you are three years later, stuck with this stupid, absolutely infuriating crush on the only boy who has ever owned your heart because you outright gave it to him.

one.

You are beginning to think the two bubbly junior girls who led the campus tour you attended last year lied about the dining hall.

Correction: they one hundred percent lied.

Because even though the newly renovated food court looks nice—unscratched linoleum floors, shiny marble countertops and all sorts of seating to choose from—there must be something fishy going on with the cooks. Literally. Just last week, an upperclassman had a breakdown when she forked into her tuna (why anyone would want college seafood is another story) to find a worm right there in the middle of it. You have found little shards of glass in the yogurt and bugs even at You-Cook, but that’s all a part of the college experience, right?

“Are you sure there’s no spiders or anything? Did you check?” Beside you, Maddie watches with furrowed brows as you spoon a hefty serving of scrambled eggs onto your plate. Chuckling, you move down to grab a few sausages and a chocolate chip muffin before they are gone for the rest of the day; Lord knows, you are only a month in and carbohydrates have quickly become your emotional support, just like everyone else. “Yes, I checked,” you assure her, hiding a laugh with your hand as she leans over to further scrutinize the eggs, “I didn’t see any arachnids.”

“Good,” she hums, satisfied with your answer, “can you grab a banana muffin for me? They’re usually at the bottom.”

Nodding, you turn back to the blessed muffin basket, pushing away blueberry, corn, double chocolate, all because Maddie has to be different and go for the macadamia nut banana.

“Are those the dinosaur socks they were selling on move-in day?” In front of you, someone asks, and your first instinct is to look down at your feet just to confirm. 8:30 calculus simply turns your brain to mush and remembering how you dressed for the day is near impossible. “Yes!” Laughing, you lift your leg to get a closer look at the cute green t-rexes on skates. “I was sold once I heard they were a dollar.”

Tearing your gaze away from said socks, you look up and suddenly feel as if you have bumped into an angel. Maybe there were spiders in the eggs, deadly poisonous spiders that crawled up the spoon while you weren’t paying attention and bit your hand and now you are dead and this is the angel leading you to the heavens. That, or this simply is the most beautiful human you have ever seen up close and your brain does not know how to process it. Well, maybe that’s a little extreme, but you definitely have never been so starstruck in your life.

The boy in front of you says something but you don’t hear it, senses and thoughts momentarily Off™ as you gawk at him. Aside from the deep undereye bags you all have claimed the past few weeks, this stranger is as close to perfect as you can get. Sure, Seungmin and his roommates are pretty cute—but what the fuck?

Something tells you that you have been silently staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open for far too long when his brows raise in a mix of confusion and expectation. Shit. What did he say? Synapses suddenly shooting like fireworks in your brain, you desperately try to remember his reply but instead, all you had focused on was the plumpness of his lips as he spoke and not the words themselves.

Clearing your throat, you blink once, twice, hoping you were hallucinating the whole time and the boy in front of you is not Hercules incarnate.

Lucky for you or him, you can’t tell, but he is still as attractive as he was two seconds ago. “Sorry, what?” You blurt, loud, too loud, flinching at the sound of your own voice. Instead of recognizing that you are totally off your rocker, he smiles, a soft, toothy smile that has your muscles turning to goo.

“I said I bought them, too,” cutest-boy-in-the-universe repeats, looking down and you follow his gaze, “my roommates were making fun of me, so I’m glad I finally found someone who bought them.” Alas, as he tugs at the fabric of his jeans to slightly lift the cuff you see that he, too, wears the same socks. You think you’re in love.

“Well, your roommates clearly have no taste,” you deadpan, shakily meeting his eyes once he looks back up. He laughs softly, eyes scrunching at the action and you positively swoon until silence settles over you and he takes the opportunity to regard you, gaze sweeping down your frame and up again. You hold your breath because, 1) holy shit, you would get on your knees for him right now and 2) you suddenly wish you were wearing more than the ‘just-woke-up-to-get-pegged-by-calc’ fit.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he finally says and you release all the air trapped in your lungs. “YN,” you return, grasping his outreached hand and thanking the heavens it is as sweaty as yours. “Well, it was nice to meet you, YN,” Hyunjin proceeds, releasing your hand and offering a gentle smile.

“You too, Mr. Sock Man,” you grin, rocking on your heels and realizing with a pang of disappointment that your breakfast has probably gone cold. Well, that’s okay, because right now you are totally content standing here in the middle of the dining hall, silently staring at this Hyunjin with a stupid smile plastered on your face. And the best part? He apparently is just fine doing that, too.

“YN!” Somewhere behind you, Maddie calls your name and it thrusts you head-first back into reality. “Did you find a banana muffin? I can’t find— oh. Who’s this?” Appearing beside you, visibly shocked having found you in a staring contest with a very tall, very cute boy. “Oh, uh,” you huff out a laugh, scrambling to get yourself together, “Hyunjin, this is Maddie, my roommate. Maddie, this is Hyunjin. We have the same socks.”

Brows shooting up at the puzzling introduction, Maddie bites back a laugh and looks back and forth between you and Hyunjin. “Well, you don’t hear that every day,” smiling to hide her confusion, she offers him a small wave with her hand full of muffin packs, “nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin smiles in return, gaze quickly returning to you. “I’ll be off, then. Gotta get the waffles while they’re still warm. I’ll see you around.”

And before you know it, he’s off toward the other end of the breakfast counter.

“Um, what the fuck?” Maddie whispers excitedly as you make your way toward your usual table, elbow repeatedly jabbing into your side. “I have no idea what just happened. I think I’m dreaming,” you sigh blissfully, relieved to find that Jisung and Seungmin were able to claim your favorite booth. “No, definitely not dreaming. He’s totally into you. You have to hang out.”

“What?” You sputter, nearly tripping over your own two feet. Then, lowering your voice as you near the two boys, “I – no, he isn’t. How can you tell? That was like, the cutest guy I’ve ever talked to, and you think he’s into me?”

“Who’s the cutest guy ever?” Jisung pipes up, eyes lighting up and you curse him and his fucking bat hearing.

“No one,” you grumble, smiling softly at Seungmin when he gets up so you don’t have to sit on the end, leaving Maddie to sit next to the other one. “Is it me?” Jisung grins with a flutter of his eyelashes. He’s convinced the only reason you dislike him is because you’ve actually fallen in love with him, but that’s far from the truth. You don’t even dislike him—he’s just one of the first guys you’ve met who meets your sarcasm with as much ferocity, and that is a hard pill to swallow.

“In your dreams, Han,” you sneer, gracing him with a dramatic eye roll before tearing open the bag of your muffin. Comfortable conversation quickly falls into place as you eat, complaints about your classes, Seungmin trying to convince you to join them at the first party they will be attending while Jisung mocks you for wanting to stay home, Maddie asking where Felix is and Seungmin explaining that he got so high last night he ended up staying up past four playing Overwatch and is currently sleeping past all his classes.

Then, in the midst of guzzling your apple juice, Jisung leans out of his seat to call down the aisle. “Hwang! Come pull a chair over!”

Curiosity peaked, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and crane your neck to see over Seungmin’s fat head for who this ‘Hwang’ could be until, like the universe is really trying to kill you, the Hyunjin you met not even ten minutes ago has reached your table. “Hey,” he grins brightly, dabbing up the two boys before he glances to you, mouth promptly falling open. Certain you mirror the same expression, you struggle to find your words as Jisung and Seungmin look between you in shared confusion. “First we share socks, now it’s these dumpheads?”

Ignoring the way they scowl, Hyunjin giggles shamelessly and grabs a chair from an adjacent table to sit at the head of your booth. “It would seem that way.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. You guys know each other?” Jisung scoffs in disbelief, pointedly looking at you as if you’ve gone and disproved everything he pegged of you. “We just met,” Hyunjin replies with a shy smile, sparing you a quick glance before cutting into his waffle. Jisung looks to you and you offer an affirmative nod.

“And how are you guys friends?” Maddie asks, sensing your panic. “He’s Changbin and Minho’s roommate,” Seungmin answers.

You choke on a mouthful of juice.

“Christ, you good?” Seungmin snickers, offering a few slaps to your back. With a muffled yes, you look to Hyunjin with pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell them I said they have no taste.”

He laughs, arching a brow at you. “No way. They’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Oh, Christ,” faking a cry, you bury your face into your palms, “so much for making friends.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Jisung soothes with faux sympathy, “no one wants to be your friend anyway.”

Scoffing, the table quickly falls silent when you look up with rage in your eyes. “I bet when someone asks your parents about you, they change the subject,” you spit, shooting daggers at him before stabbing your fork into an innocent chunk of egg. To your utmost surprise but total delight, the other three burst into a fit of laughter, leaving you smirking smugly and Jisung sulking.

“Anyway,” Maddie promptly changes the subject back to her chemistry professor who has started every class playing Britney Spears. Tucked away in your corner finishing the last of your sausage and stifling the urge to get up for more, it isn’t until Hyunjin begins to speak do you realize that you have been quietly watching him the entire time. You would blame the soft morning sunshine shining through the windows and illuminating the right side of his face for making him look so ethereal, but you know that isn’t the case; from short, messy black hair, silver hoop earrings, thick, defined brows, the soft curves of his nose and the pouty fullness of his lips, you are totally, completely mesmerized.

And then, the sole of a sneaker is slammed right into your shin. “OW!” You yelp, loud, and for a moment you forget the pain in favor of the embarrassment that comes with the number of heads that turn to look at you. “Sorry. Bit my tongue,” you lie, earning an unconvinced look from Maddie. “Go on,” you nod toward Hyunjin to continue whatever he was saying before directing a furious glare to Jisung, who fails to hide his triumphant smirk as he enthusiastically types on his phone.

Just as you have bent down to rub at your throbbing leg, your phone vibrates twice against the table.

han jisung [now] stop staring, ur lucky hwang is as dense as a rock or he would have left a long time ago bc of you

han jisung [now] so THAT’S the ‘cutest guy ever’ huh? so ur straight after all

Squeezing your hands into fists, you prepare to fire back a reply that will have him crying. But he has different plans.

“Oh, Hyunjin, did YN tell you she’s a dancer, too?” He exaggerates your previous mention of dancing and has the audacity to wink at you. Thanks, Mr. Match Maker.

“Really?” Hyunjin gasps excitedly, eyes lighting up and totally missing the flabbergasted what? that sputters from your lips.

“I – well, no,” you hiss, scowling at Jisung, “I used to do ballet when I was younger but that’s it. Why, though? Do you dance?”

“He’s here on a scholarship,” Seungmin explains, “and minors in creative writing.”

“Oh,” you squeak, glancing to Hyunjin who is all but smiling like a cherub, completely oblivious, “that’s amazing. You must have a crazy schedule.” Chewing the last of his waffle, he hums in agreement. “Yeah, it gets really stressful at times. But it’s worth it,” Hyunjin chuckles. Then fucking winks.

Unable to hold his gaze, you whip your head back around in a panic and reach for the mere sip left of your juice. “Speaking of crazy schedules,” he hums, slapping both Jisung and Seungmin on the shoulders, “I must head out. This was fun. I may start crashing the party more now.” Rising from his seat, Hyunjin swings his bag over a shoulder and grins brightly. Realizing it would be rude to not say goodbye, you force yourself to look back to him and offer a feeble wave.

“And YN, don’t bite your tongue when you eat, yeah?”

You’re going to pass out.

two.

Felix likes to think of you as his corrupted child when it comes to smoking weed.

A few weeks before you would all be returning home for winter break, he came knocking on your door with a proposition. “No one wants to smoke with me. Do you want to?”

This, for sure, was not what you were expecting on a cold Tuesday night in December. Despite the general curiosity and always wanting to ‘try it’ simply to feel like a teenager breaking the rules, you told him you never smoked before. “I know,” he said with a smile, “that’s why I’m asking.”

So, you agreed. Reaching for your hand, Felix snuck you out the window and led you halfway across campus to the junior parking lot, giving you ample opportunities to back out when he felt how badly you were shaking. “Whose car is this?” You laughed in disbelief when he unlocked a beaten-up Nissan near the outskirts of the lot.

“Kim Woojin. The junior?” He replied once you settled in the passenger seat next to him. “Oh.” You blinked, confused. “He lets you smoke in his car?”

“He gets me weed, too,” Felix giggled, reaching into the pockets of his sweatshirt and coming out with two tightly wrapped blunts, each about two inches long, “I’ll turn the heat on a little so we don’t freeze but we have to keep the windows open. I’m not going to have you hotbox for your first time.” You had no idea what that meant, but you agreed nonetheless.

With a brief lesson on what to do that truly made no sense until you tried it for yourself, Felix lit the blunt, took a few small hits to get it started, and then passed it to you. Holding it gingerly between your thumb and index finger, you brought the unlit end to your lips and sucked as he instructed ‘like a straw,’ breathing it into your lungs and ignoring the faint taste of smoke. Unsure of when to stop, it wasn’t until your throat felt as if it was on fire did you realize just how much you had inhaled.

“Shit,” you wheezed, coughing and choking and watching with wide eyes at the amount of cloudy white smoke that left your mouth and nostrils. Passing it back to Felix, you scrambled for the cold water bottle he brought along, downing half of it in one go to soothe the burn. “Good?” He asked, blowing out the window and turning back to you with eyes full of concern.

“Yeah,” you huffed, “give me a few, though.”

Humming in agreement, Felix connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth and began playing what he calls his ‘getting high playlist,’ and before long, you fell in love with the feeling.

When break was over, you were dying to try it again. Felix was more than happy to be of service.

For all of March, it turned into a daily thing.

Now, you try to smoke only once a week for the sake of not dying, or something.

australian felix kjellberg❤️ [now] come hang at 201?

When the text notification pops up in the corner of your laptop screen amid your YouTube binge, your bones jitter with a mix of dread and excitement.

Dread, because that’s Hyunjin’s room. Excitement, because that’s Hyunjin’s room.

Maddie must hear your sigh. “What’s wrong?” She asks from her cozied position in bed, hand deep in a bag of popcorn.

“It’s Felix,” you start, “but he said to go to Hyunjin’s room.”

She blinks, unfazed. “And? I don’t see the problem here.”

“Well, I don’t know,” you count on your fingers, “first, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin sober. Second, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin high. Third, I am very touchy when high. Fourth, Hyunjin is always touchy.”

Maddie scoffs. “That’s a pretty lame argument, YN,” she laughs, “isn’t that what you want to happen?”

“Well,” she’s got a point, “yes, but it still makes me nervous. He makes me nervous.” Closing your laptop, you shimmy out of bed and debate changing out of your cotton shorts and tee shirt. Nah. You’ll probably end up going back to Felix’s and sleeping there. You put a sports bra and deodorant on and call it a day.

Maddie finds this hilarious. “You know what should make you nervous? The fact that you’re usually the only girl getting high with, what? Six guys? You know they all want to fuck you.”

“I try not to think about that, actually,” cringing, you try to erase Felix’s voice when he’s high as a kite or Changbin’s arms from your mind, “and you don’t know that. Sometimes Ryujin and Lia are there. Or, you know, you could always come. You don’t have to smoke, just come hang out. I know you want to give Minho a fat smooch.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “I love you, and I appreciate the invite, but I don’t feel like babysitting a bunch of stoners, even if Minho is there.”

Laughing, all you can offer her is a shrug. “I don’t blame you,” grabbing your phone, wallet, and charger, you make your way over to her and bend over to press a goodnight kiss to her forehead, “if you need me, don’t. I’ll probably be dead.”

“Oh Lord,” Maddie cackles, watching you struggle to open the window, “don’t die. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’ll try,” you grin, military saluting once you’ve managed to flop over the ledge. With one last wave, you close the window behind you and thank admissions for giving you a room on the first floor.

[9:34 PM] YN: omw now, gather your forces to help me in :)

Nights in 201 are always interesting. First, their room is on the second floor, so climbing through the window is an experience. Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you could just walk in and out of residence halls as you please, but with the officer at the front desk documenting who comes in and who goes out, there would be a knock at the door at midnight asking you to leave. Second: as Maddie said, 201 means the whole squad is showing up. And when the whole squad shows up, you’re bound to feel a mix of anxiety and desire deep within your bones no matter how hard set you are on Mr. Hwang. And third: you know you’re in for one fucked up night.

[9:42 PM] YN: hereee

Standing awkwardly behind their building, you try and calm the nerves that always come when you know you will be with Hyunjin. Considering how close the two of you have become over the past few months, one would think you would have gotten a grip on those pesky feelings.

Yet again, it’s kind of hard to do that when he looks and acts like that all the time.

When the window slides open, you are expecting Changbin to hang halfway out for you to grab on to with the rest of them holding onto his legs. Instead, a tall, metal ladder of sorts is pushed out until it lands with a thud! at your feet, granting you a perfect staircase into the room.

Well, you certainly don’t see that every day.

Blinking in confusion, you do not know whether to focus on the crowd of boys waving at you from above or this abomination of a stepstool that was practically thrown out a window for you. Accepting the chain of events as just another fever dream of an experience in 201, you shake your head and begin to ascend on shaky legs, graciously taking Jisung’s hand and clinging to both him and Seungmin as they help you into the room. “Thanks,” you huff, giving them both a hug in return to their chivalry. And they dare say it’s dead!

Behind you, Changbin and Hyunjin lift the ladder-stepstool mutation back into the room and it isn’t until they have folded it into a more compact piece and set it against the wall do you speak up.

“Did you… buy a ladder?”

“Yes!” Minho bellows, thrilled by your successful entrance. “Isn’t it great?” After pulling back from a hug, he keeps his hands on your shoulders just to shake you like a bobble-head.

“Yes,” you grunt once he’s released you, head swimming, “a lot easier than hauling both me and Changbin through the window, right?” Looking to said boy, you can’t help but melt into his side when he pulls you close. “No worries,” Changbin beams, rubbing your arm, “at least we have some funny memories now.” When he moves to flop onto his bed, you realize with a shudder that you are alone with Hyunjin.

Well, technically not alone since they are all right there, but alone in the sense that they are not paying attention to you nor him.

“Hey, YN. I missed you,” he singsongs, engulfing you in one of his monster bear hugs. Disregarding the heart palpitations they may cause, Hyunjin’s hugs are truly the best and you wish you would initiate them more if it didn’t seem like such a big deal in that smooth brain of yours. “I missed you, too,” you mutter into his chest, squeezing your arms around him as if to engrave this feeling into your mind forever. “We saw each other, like, five hours ago,” he reminds you, finally pulling back and taking your will to live with him. God, he has no idea.

“And? You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me suicidal,” you lie because, in reality, he actually does. Just in a different way. “Aw,” he coos, large hand squeezing your side and you think you could orgasm on command, “good thing we have tonight, then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, finally remembering to breathe when he steps away to sit beside Seungmin on his bed. Suddenly, you are feeling incredibly grateful no one is next to Changbin because, well, 1) he is closer to Felix and 2), you need a distraction.

“Hello, Felix,” you greet the boy sunk deep in a bean bag chair, busy grinding leaves and packing them into the bowl of a bong. “How are you this fine evening, YN?” He asks once you have settled beside Changbin, brows knitting together when the older boy drapes his arm around your waist.

“Good. Tired, though. How ‘bout you?”

“You didn’t have to come if you’re tired! We all know you work your ass off, no one’s gonna judge if you chose to stay home and sleep,” Felix expresses, giving you a look that screams ‘mom.’

“No! I’m not that tired,” you assure him, reaching for his hand and squeezing for extra effect, “you know I wouldn’t miss this. You’ve made me a pothead.”

With a proud smile, he returns to his designated job and begins working on the second, smaller bong. “So,” stretching to set your things on the desk beside Changbin’s bed, you turn to him with a knowing smile, “how’s the album coming?”

“Great!” He beams, eyes lighting up at the topic. “Jisung is a great addition. Did I tell you we started meeting with someone else, too?”

“No, who?”

“He’s a sophomore, Bang Chan?” Somewhere behind you, Felix passes a bong to Jisung for the first hit. “Bang Chan? Holy shit, Binnie,” repeatedly punching his arm to express your excitement, “that’s amazing! I didn’t know he was into music production. Not that I’ve ever talked to him, but.”

“No, I get you,” he hums, giving your side a firm squeeze, “he’s really awesome making beats. I hope we’re successful.” Then, reaching past you, he takes the second bong and a lighter from Felix. When he resituates himself, he’s considerably closer than before. You don’t mind.

“Ladies first?” Changbin offers with a crooked grin, handing them to you. Then, on second thought, he holds onto the lighter to do the honors. “Sure. Thanks,” you laugh, glancing across the room to find everyone arguing over which color to set the lights to as they wait for their high. Bringing the tube to your lips, you offer a miniscule nod to him and then he is setting flame to the bowl. Sucking strong enough to generate bubbles, you unplug the bowl once he stops and breathe in as much as your lungs can handle in one go. Then, once you have exhaled, you quickly finish what’s left in the tube before passing it to Changbin with a pleased smile.

“That was a lot,” he points out once you have handed the bong back to him. “Hey, you’re the one who kept lighting it for thirty seconds. Mother would be proud,” you joke, reciprocating the same service and lighting the bowl until he glares at you beneath his bangs.

The best part about being high is the fact that you are constantly laughing. Things won’t even be that funny, but once someone starts laughing—you’re done for. You laugh so hard it hurts, and then once it’s all over, you realize it wasn’t funny at all. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like a squirrel?” Minho asks Jisung at some point. You absolutely loose it. It quite possibly is the funniest thing you have ever heard.

Pouting, Squirrel Boy leaves Minho alone on his bed to come crash beside you. “How are you, my tender oozing blossom?”

Squinting at him past the way your eyes burn, you make grabby hands and pull him close to wrap your arms around his teeny waist. Changbin grumbles in protest, but he’s too transfixed on the light’s soft in and out fade of different colors to say anything else. “Please, don’t ever call me that again,” you mumble into Jisung’s mop of brown hair.

“What?” He gasps, tilting to look up at you with puppy eyes. “You didn’t like it?”

“Nope,” smiling lazily, you rest your head atop his, “I love you, but I’m not ready for pet names yet.” His face morphs from a frown to one lit with excitement. “Holy shit, did you just say you love me? Do my eyes deceive me?”

“That would be your ‘ears,’ but yes,” you hum, brain simply not capable of denying it the way your sober self would. “More than Changbin?” Jisung whispers.

“Yes, but don’t tell him,” you return quietly, biting back a laugh.

“More than Hyunjin?” He counters. At this, you look up to find said boy sat with his legs to his chest across the room. Next to Seungmin, he looks like a giant; but a happy, pouty giant that keeps talking about how much he could go for a winter melon tea right now.

“Never.”

One and a half (half because it was just the rest of Minho’s terribly big hit that left tears streaming down his cheeks) and an unfinished game of Cards Against Humanity later, you find yourself in a blissful headspace. The song playing quietly through Felix’s speaker makes it feel like you are bouncing down stairs and then going up again, and the lights are oh so pretty, pink fading to red, yellow to green, blue to purple and so on. Things are fuzzy but crystal clear at the same time, the popcorn you’ve been shoveling into your mouth tastes heavenly, and your body feels like it is engulfed in a warm, comforting hug.

Or, that could just be Changbin.

Somewhere in between trying to get more comfortable and him yanking you to stay next to him when you attempted to get up and hug Seungmin for something sweet he said, you now find yourself on your back with a clinging Changbin on your side. You are so comfortable, but also insanely hot, and as you begin to slowly come down from your high as the hours tick by, you begin to realize it’s for another reason.

What started as an innocent hand on your side turned into his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns against your shirt, which then turned into his hand slipping beneath to splay against the warmth of your skin. Growing increasingly needy as the minutes go by, you turn to look at everyone around you. Jisung, who found himself returning to Minho, appears to be passed out with him on the far end of the room. Seungmin, curled up on the floor with a pillow and a heap of blankets. Felix, who finished off the rest of his weed, scrolls aimlessly on his phone still at the peak of his high.

And Hyunjin, who you assume has been fast asleep on his bed for a while now if the arm flung over his face tells you anything. For a moment, you feel sick with sadness. So close, but so far he lies, always a step out of reach. But you can’t deny how Changbin makes you feel—for right now, at least. And it would be a shame to miss out on an opportunity with someone else because the one you want is unattainable.

Right?

Changbin must sense the way your breathing increases, must feel the way your body reacts to the slightest of touches, yet he takes his time. He is soft in the way his hand travels up your arm, rough fingertips grazing over your collarbones before smoothing down over your chest and abdomen. It isn’t until you are about to burst at the seams does he give your ass a strong squeeze and urge your leg over his hips.

“Changbin,” you sigh, biting your lip to keep from whimpering when he begins pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of your throat. “Please touch me.”

He only makes a sound of agreement, savoring the way you squirm and grip onto his arm for dear life. When he offers an experimental roll of his hips to grind against you, you practically go feral. The last time you were touched in such a way was at a party in the beginning of the semester Jisung and co. physically forced you to go to, and Changbin has barely even touched you and it’s already better than the rushed sex you had that night.

“Wait,” he huffs, pausing his ministrations no matter how difficult it is to do so, “we can’t.”

“What?” You hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, “why?”

“Because you’re high, and I’m high, and I’m not going to do anything unless you really want me to,” Changbin explains, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips when you frown in response. “But I do want you to,” you huff, chasing his mouth for another, “I trust you one hundred percent.”

“Are you sure, YN?” What about Hyunjin? is what he really means and you know he’s right. You should have never told Felix.

Trying to ignore the wetness of your underwear, you turn to lie on your back. “Whatever. Never mind,” you mumble, and when you glance back to him, you can’t help the way your heart soars with him still pressed closely to your side, blinking tiredly at you. But like he said, it’s not Hyunjin. “Just get some sleep, Binnie. Forget it happened,” smiling past the tears that threaten to spill, you ruffle his hair and press a softer kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Changbin whispers, returning the affection with a kiss to your shoulder. In minutes, he is snoring softly beside you.

You can’t fall asleep to save your life.

Reaching for your phone to check the time, you grit your teeth once you realize it’s almost four and you definitely have been staring at the ceiling for more than an hour. For starters, you are freezing now; unlike these passed out hooligans, you are showing a lot more skin and not being under the blankets is not doing you well. And secondly, it’s hard to fall asleep when your thoughts are flying miles a minute.

Is this how it’s going to be, then? Whenever you see someone, will the little guy on your shoulder whisper in your ear that it’s not Hyunjin? Or will people deem you off limits because they know of your infatuation? People who know, at least—Changbin is the first, apparently.

Just need to get comfy, you decide, trying to ignore such thoughts and turning to lie on your stomach. Bless Felix for leaving the lights on, too—you may be coming down from your high, but the vibe is simply immaculate. Tucking a hand under your cheek and following the ropes of light on the ceiling and up the walls, you find this to be enough to calm your nerves. Enough to make your eyelids heavy. Finally.

Someone lets out a monster train snore. Seungmin, you think, biting your lip to keep from laughing. Or, it could be Hyunjin. The thought is so amusing you can’t help but squint at the boy across from you to better see his outline, hoping he will do it again just to confirm.

No, not Hyunjin.

Because he’s facing you, eyes open, a soft smile plastered on his face. Well, fuck.

No reason to panic, you console yourself, returning a gentle smile in the assumption he can even see you. And you stay like that for a while, simply watching one another for an infinite amount of time. It’s not much, but it means something, you think, lost in the way the contours and highlights of his face change with each color the lights fade to. Just as you remember the whole point of getting on your stomach was to fall asleep, Hyunjin moves. Reaching for his phone, you watch in confusion as he brings it close to his face and starts typing.

hwang hyunjin👁👄👁 [now] Come sleep w me?

You almost throw up in your mouth. You must be dreaming. Surely.

Blinking against the harsh light of your phone, you cannot help your smile as you reread the text.

[4:02 am] YN: wont that b a little sus for bin

[4:02 am] hwang hyunjin👁👄👁: If anyone asks just say he kept kicking u or something

You don’t need to be told twice. Now that he has turned onto his side facing the other direction, Changbin does not stir once you slowly move to sit up and stand, nor when you reach for the quilt crumbled at the foot of the bed to pull over him. It’s not much, but hopefully it will keep him from waking in a few hours freezing to death. Then, as you tiptoe your way over to Hyunjin’s bed, avoiding Felix now that he’s sprawled half way off the bean bag, you cannot tell if you are still shivering from the cold or if the fact you are going to be sleepingwith Hyunjin in one, tiny single bed is finally clicking in your brain. Like Maddie said, this is something you want, right?

As you draw closer, Hyunjin shifts to make room and lifts the covers for you to quietly slip beneath. “Thank you,” you whisper, pulling the blanket up to your chin and trying to ignore the feeling of being so close to him. “Of course. You looked real cold over there,” he smiles tiredly. Then, his arm cautiously curls around you to rest by your head, fingers swiping stray hairs away from your face.

“I was,” you admit. Eyes level to his lips, you strain to look him in the eyes to resist the temptation now that he’s pulled you so close. “Changbin fell asleep and I felt bad waking him.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply. He seems momentarily lost in thought, brows slightly furrowed as he chews on the inside of his lip.

“Do you like him?” He finally asks, voice shaky with hesitation.

“What?” You sputter, shocked at such a presumption. Yet again…

“No, no I don’t. I mean—as a friend, yes, but, you know,” you trail off, squeezing your eyes shut. You desperately wish you were not having this conversation right now. “He was touching you, though. And it looked like you liked it,” Hyunjin whispers, thumb swiping against your cheekbone.

“I mean, well yeah, I did. But I’m not close enough to like him like that. It’s just a physical attraction,” realizing you are discussing what went down with Changbin to Hyunjin, you suddenly pull back and lean up on an elbow to get a better look at him, heat now spreading up your limbs like fire. “Were you watching us, Hwang?”

“Yes,” he admits, “it’s kind of hard not to.” Your heart stops beating.

“I – what?” You manage once you have remembered how to breathe. “I didn’t know you were awake, we wouldn’t have… what do you mean, ‘it’s kind of hard not to?’”

“You know what I mean, YN,” Hyunjin mutters, arm slipping around your waist and pulling you to lie down with him again, this time, your chest pressed to his. “I like looking at you. You’re very pretty.”

You definitely must still be high, because you are seriously having a hard time wrapping your mind around Hyunjin calling you pretty, as well as being so close, and somewhere deep in your mind wonders if he knows. If he knows how your heart is on the line here. Knows that with him moving closer, you are taking a huge risk.

When Hyunjin kisses you, you forget that this could be the worst mistake you’ve made in a long time. Wrapped around his fingers, you pray this is his way of saying he feels the same.

“YN!” You wake to Seungmin gently shaking your shoulder. “YN, wake up. Your phone has been vibrating for twenty minutes now. It’s Maddie.”

The wave of panic washing over you dispels the grogginess you feel from suddenly being yanked from sleep, as well as the recognition of where you are and who you’re with. Frantic, you sit up and nod in thanks to him before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God you answered,” Maddie cries, voice choked, “I’m sorry, I know you’re still out, but I just threw up and I feel so terrible and when I get up I feel so nauseous. Can you come home?”

“Shit, Maddie, don’t apologize,” you whisper, rushing to grab your things as Seungmin unfolds The Ladder as quietly as possible, “I’m leaving now. Don’t move, you don’t want it to get worse. I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” she whimpers before hanging up.

“Thank you, Minnie,” pressing a kiss to his cheek, you begin to climb down. “Is everything okay?” He asks, watching as you go with a worried frown. “Yes, it’s fine. Just a little emergency, don’t worry,” praying no one is out and about watching as you climb from the back of their building, you rush back to help Maddie as fast as you can.

You stay back in your dorm with Maddie for the rest of the weekend, fetching her water and ginger ale and food she can handle, helping her to the restroom, and binging all sorts of shows and movies with her. Seungmin, Jisung, and Minho visit Sunday evening, joining you for a few hours to watch Pokémon. You think it’s just because Minho knew it would be a good opportunity to snuggle with Maddie.

You can’t help but feel disappointed when Hyunjin isn’t with them. You refrained from telling Maddie what happened in 201, too caught up wanting to make sure she was alright, and by now you are starting to feel as if it wasn’t even real. Maybe you made the whole night up in your marijuana-infused brain. And snuggled up with Jisung, you can’t help but wish it was this annoying shit you were falling in love with.

On Monday morning, Hyunjin doesn’t show up for breakfast. On Tuesday, you find out he has been hanging out with a girl he met at his favorite boba joint and apparently won’t shut up about. First, you run back to your dorm to cry to Maddie, having to explain all of Friday night to her. When she leaves for her lab, you call Felix for an emergency smoke session. When Maddie texts that she is going to be out late working on a project, you call Changbin to tell him that you really do want him to.

Like you said, it’s just a physical attraction, right?

⇢ part 2

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

warnings: extremely negative feelings towards a sibling, distressing / intrusive thoughts. placed under a break due to the content of the message. remember, I'm not a mental health professional.

updated with additional viewpoints from readers at the bottom!

I'm sorry in advance.

I really hate my older sister. She never respects my boundaries, insults me frequently, and is just annoying and hypocritical in general.

I've always had these issues with her, but she lived at her own apartment away from me and the rest of my family, so I've been able to control my hatred of her. But last year in March she moved back in and sold her apartment. She has no plans of leaving anytime soon, and I can't stand her.

We shared a bedroom for about a year because we were also taking care of my cousin who also moved in with us last year. My cousin has since moved out, but my sister is unfortunately here to stay for a couple of years. But with extra space, I was able to move into the spare bedroom and thought that would be the end of my problems.

It wasn't. In fact, she has become even more unbearable. The hardest part of this relationship is that she has a weird obsession with being with me. I'm not sure if this is because she loves me, or she's just weird. I think she's weird because my parents never act like she does.

Our bedrooms are right next to each other. There's really no reason for her to miss me. But every single fucking minute she's coming into my room to bother me. I would have more empathy for her if she acknowledged my limits, but she doesn't.

She's constantly cuddling me after I've said for MONTHS that I don't enjoy it and it makes me uncomfortable. She constantly belittles me by saying I couldn't live without her, and that I would be a mess if it wasn't for her (mind you, I've lived without her at the house for YEARS and I was perfectly fine). She's constantly in my business, interrogating me about every little thing. She once locked the door and wouldn't let me leave the room without answering her questions for 20 minutes; she asked me about a $30 Amazon order containing manga I ordered with MY OWN MONEY. And I had permission for my parents to order it! It wasn't her business whatsoever.

I've tried to keep her out numerous times; I've gotten in trouble for it. My parents say I'm being mean and that this is her way of loving me. What I feel like they ignore is that I'M UNCOMFORTABLE. Her way of "loving me" HURTS.

I've tried communication. I've had multiple meetings with my family about my boundaries and they say they'll change, but they never do.

Another factor that worsens this is that I have borderline personality disorder. I'm currently being denied therapy or intervention of any kind. I get told my mental illness is a result of me having an attitude and hating my family.

I writing this to you because I've been having very alarming thoughts recently. I'm been somewhat suicidal as long as I can remember, but this is different. I've been having nightmares about killing my family/my family killing me. I don't want to kill my family. As much as they have abused me, I know they truly love me deep down. But when I'm in a mental breakdown, I don't think for the most part. I'm afraid I'm going to do something to hurt them if they continue to push me. I'm too scared to turn myself into the police and I don't want to be taken away from my home. I truly need therapy, but it's expensive and I'm not allowed to get it.

Are there any options left for me? I love my family and I want to get better, but I can't stand them. It'll be a while before I can live on my own, and I don't think I'll make it that long.

I'm so sorry.

I appreciate that you came to me, however, please remember I am not a mental health professional.

I do not have the best relationship with my family. I've come to accept that they just exist and I moved away from them. I keep a strict level of familiarity with them for my own sanity and well-being. There are people in my immediate family I don't talk to anymore or only speak to in certain situations, with other people around to buffer my emotions. No one in my family understands or respects my mental health issues and I have ceased talking about it with them.

I will admit, I had to ask for help. I'm going to share the answer of someone I trust, because they are much more level-headed when it comes to something like this.

Use different words with your sister. Instead of "I'm mad or annoyed", use words that bring out more empathy - "You're making me sad and uncomfortable. You're hurting me." Anger is usually perceived as something within you, something you must control. But sadness is usually not perceived in the same light. People usually see sadness as something that has a cause and perhaps letting her know that she is the cause will have an effect on her. Using different words when speaking to her may slowly change her perspective.

When it comes to your parents, well, parents do not usually understand sibling dynamics. They're fucking useless most of the time when it comes to problems specifically between siblings. It might be better if you say something like, "Her constant intrusions are affecting my school work. My grades are going to drop." Usually, parents respond more urgently if you say you education is affected - and it doesn't matter if it's true or not, we're just trying to get them to help in some way.

I had to remind them it's summertime lol

Oh shit, you're right. Er. Well, In any case, it seems you've tried having reasonable discussions with your parents and it doesn't seem helpful to continue discussing this particular topic with them. Maybe get into fitness since it's summertime. Go outside, do something active. She can't cuddle you if you're running, right? Then you can also be stronger and feeling better physically improves mental health. Put some music on, go hiking or running, take yourself out of the situation.

I don't know if this is possible, but perhaps if you're experiencing a mental breakdown and you're afraid of hurting your family, run out of the house? It might be better to be physically away from them at that time to avoid saying or doing anything you regret. It may help clear your head and help your family realize that this is something that is truly debilitating to you.

I don't know your age, so I don't know if the school thing is relevant. It's only a suggestion.

You said it will be a while before you can live on your own. When I knew the cons of living with my family outweighed the pros, I did everything in my power to prepare myself for leaving because I needed a goal in order to survive. I needed distractions, reading, writing, gaming, music, anything else to occupy my mind and help control my thoughts. There was a time when I needed music to fall asleep (headphones in on low volume).

Also... uh.

I'm not saying you should do this. I'm only saying I did.

My siblings and I have physically fought before. One has scars from fighting me. The scarred one is the one closest to me currently.

Not saying you should do it.

But I did.

If anyone feels comfortable enough to share how they dealt with it in their own situation, please do. Maybe more perspectives can help this person.

--

some other experiences sent to me:

anon #1

I don't think I had a situation that extreme but my brother was a little like that. I honestly had to become kinda rude and indifferent. Like he'd always use my laptop and stuff and I put passwords on everything and just don't tell him. And then when he tried to hug or cuddle id say I don't liek it and just push him away physically now this soudns fucking obvious when I say it this way but like I don't think I read that u tried it ? Idk I discovered I have a loud annoying scream that neighbours will hear, and fucking strokg legs I used to kick him away but like I was tiny so I don't really endorse violence but I didnt like being close to a 'boy' essentially at taht age so yea... Idk man siblings are weird and I have had intrusive thoughts so I think I didn't handle it well but for a few years I became an asshole to him and then now I'm good with talking sometimes and I keep it short and sweet and I've mentioned that I'm sorry for being mean in the past bcuz like I am ? Bcuz I'm not an asshole ? ( But like I did what I had to do ) I hope u get the help and support u need

anon #2

I read the message from the previous anon and I have to say I relate to what they say. I wouldn’t say i’ve completely dealt with the situation when it comes to my parents.

I have 4 siblings and i’m the oldest, my sister that’s 2 years younger than me always gets in my way and is a tyrant. Because she’s much taller than me she overpowers me and i also have scars from when we’ve fought. My parents don’t intervene because they say we’ll make up soon and I honestly can’t stay mad at people for long. I also live with my parents and am not able to move out anytime soon until I get my degree.

A few weeks ago my mother was complaining to my father that I don’t help around the house and all that bullshit but it’s obviously not true. Anyway. My father came into my room and threw all my clothes from my cupboards on the floor and said my sister and I must get out of his house. He was literally pulling us and we were crying because where the hell would we go. My smaller siblings were begging for him not to chase us out of the house but he was ballistic. He was constantly throwing insults at me, calling me selfish and disrespectful. I was having a mental breakdown and I said i hope that God takes my life away because i’m too weak to do it myself. I kept saying that and when my parents heard me. They called me crazy and were laughing at me and said i should take it back because instead of me another one of my family members would go.

My parents don’t care about mental health and therapy. It’s all unnecessary to them. But after that night I tried to find my own way of getting rid of the negative thoughts, I choose to ignore what everyone tells me. I agree with everything that you said about trying to get away from their family when they have those thoughts. I try meditation and praying. I’m not sure if that person follows any religion but that’s what helped me. And writing can be cathartic. Also remember that you’re not alone, there are so many people out there who share your sorrows and can relate to your situation. I think about my little siblings who i’m close to and what it would be like if i wasn’t there.

Maybe if they could get a pet? I know having a pet can make you feel less alone and you feel a sense of responsibility towards them. As for their sister, she needs to see their point of view and tell her that she makes her feel overwhelmed with the things she does. She can spend time with her and try to make her understand that they need their space too.

anon #3

I also have sum advice 4 the sibling anon frm a fellow bpd buddy:

Does ur view of ur sister change from "i hate her" to "she's alright" sometimes? Viewing sum1 as all bad or all good is common in bpd ppl and usually changes alot. I rec writing down the moments where she shows she loves u. This could be thru buying smth for u or doing smth 4 u. I had a similar relationship w a friend and this exercise helped me remember that she might not have intentions to hurt me and might b trying 2 bond. Repairing the relationship might take a while. Talk alot if u can, it seems like ur family is at least willing to hear u out, even if there behavior doesn't change much. Keep sum distance if needed. Working out and finding fun hobbies is good.

If u feel like ur breaking down, try breathing exercises n identify 5 things u notice thru ur senses. What do u feel? What do u smell? What do u taste? What do u see? What do u hear? I personally like taking myself down rabbit holes. For example: I see a yellow jacket > this shade of yellow is a cool tone > what makes a color "cool" or "warm" > why do we associate red with warmth > what if the sun was blue > what if ocean water looked orange > is water wet

I usually end up forgetting what was making me upset. If it was a big deal I would still remember, but at least I would b less emotional and a bit more rational.

Search up cognitive behavior therapy and dialectical behavior therapy and try 2 practice sumthing similar 2 exercises u would perform w a therapist. Squeeze stress balls. Masturbate (this blog is perfect 4 that lol). Maybe watch some videos done by therapists on youtube. I watched a couple of videos abt therapists reacting 2 fighting in movies and I learned alot (this video was very fun to watch)!

Anyway that's what helps me! Good luck 2 u!!!

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 17

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, very slight fluff

; Word Count: 6k

; Warnings: Emotional breakdown, depiction of a panic/anxiety attack, in depth discussion/description of depression, brief mentions of suicide, lack of self-worth, self-hatred, self-doubt, dissociation

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I haven’t proof read because...well I don’t really want to re-read it. So forgive me for any mistakes! It’s early by a day because I’ve missed a few weeks so I want you all to have something on what is a rainy night here in England <3

PLEASE make sure to read the warnings on this one. This chapter is very hard hitting for anyone who has suffered depression/anxiety. I put myself back in the position I was in last year when I had my own breakdown and I know people have said before that I write in a way that makes you feel what the character is feeling. Therefore, please don’t read if you’re going to be affected by the warnings! And please also be kind if you don’t agree with the way I depicted this. This is how my own depression and anxiety affected me, only I didn’t have a Hoseok in my life. The experiences the reader goes through in this are the ones I personally have experienced. It’s still a reader insert, don’t worry. She after all has a lot of things I don’t, and I’m also okay, so don’t worry on that front either! If you feel upset about anything after reading this, please consider reaching out to friends, family, professionals or a helpline that specialises in it!

And remember throughout everything...you’re not alone! You’re not worthless and you are loved. <3

-

Leaning against the railing outside your work building, you let out a deep and heavy sigh as you read through the email you’d just received. It’s a rejection email. The third rejection email you’d received today and the twenty-third you’d received in two weeks.

After an in-depth talk with your parents and support from Chungha, Soyeon and Hoseok, you’d decided to finally try and get that career change you’d always wanted. Though you’d pointed out that you didn’t know what you wanted from life anymore.

You didn’t know what you wanted full stop. 

One of the things that you’d been most afraid of when you’d realised that your relationship with Hoseok was turning into something genuine and real, had been what was going to come after. Not in terms of breaking up, though that did terrify you as well, but how your mental state was going to cope.

You’d tried to explain it to the girls a few times in an effort to get them to understand what went on in your rollercoaster of a mind, and you’d clumsily told Hoseok a few months ago. Or you’d tried at least. 

Talking about your emotions wasn’t easy for you and the fear of being too honest about something so crippling with someone who meant so much to you already had scared you away from telling him too much. Your mind had balked at it, afraid that if he found out just how bad you got sometimes that he might just leave before he got in too deep.

So you’d given him a very bare bones explanation of what happened to you sometimes. He probably didn’t think too much of it at the moment as you’d been pretty cheerful throughout the start of your relationship; the bliss of him overriding any of your deep seated depression and anxieties.

Hoseok was obviously aware that you suffered from anxiety and had been very caring in regards to that, but it was entirely different to be with someone in the grip of a depressive episode. Your form of depression could almost be charted, it was that easy to see what was coming, and you’d been so afraid for the last few weeks.

The lethargy and disinterest that associated itself so strongly with your depression had been creeping back into your life slowly. It had frightened you, but you just didn’t know how to combat it. Doing things that were big or made you extremely happy always seemed to come with a huge cost, and the cost was unfortunately your mental health.

Every single time you felt exhilarating highs in your emotions, the feelings so joyful and euphoric from your excitement and pure happiness, you suffered a plunging crash afterwards that often felt like it sucked the joy out of your life. It was something you’d tried to cope with for years now, and sometimes you could go months upon months without feeling like it was affecting you.

But the happiness of finding Hoseok and all of the early stages of your relationship, from the first kiss to sex and meeting your parents, had finally waned. The last few weeks had the deep sense of unhappiness that plagued your negative moods spreading quickly.

It had started as usual with the slowly losing interest in going out; the energy you’d once had to be social outside of your apartment dying until the idea of anything other than work or grocery shopping was too much effort. Then had come the lack of interest in anything.

You’d always found it hard to see that you were slipping, only recognising it properly when you would realise that you’d been laid on your bed or the couch for hours on end, doing nothing at all. Any attempts to find something to watch on television failed as your brain couldn’t find anything interesting enough to keep it’s attention, games sat unplayed as you couldn’t find the energy to turn them on while even just reading bored you.

In particularly bad spells, such as your final year of college when you’d been so afraid of failing but also afraid of having to go into the real world, you struggled to find the energy to even get out of bed. Hygiene only became a thing because of your severe distaste of being unclean, but other than that your bed often became your home.

You would sleep for hours upon hours, napping the day’s away as you consoled yourself with the knowledge that you didn’t have anything to do and so therefore didn’t need to get up. Even though a small voice in the back of your mind told you that no, you should get up. You should do something.

That small voice was drowned out often though. Vanishing on a fast current of melancholy. It frightened you that you were experiencing that now again, even with the wonderful light and joy that was Hoseok in your life. Waking up long after he’d already gotten up on the weekend and realising that you didn’t want to get up and follow him, that not even the comfort of his arms was enough to soothe the jagged hole inside your soul that seemed to grow deeper and wider with every day that passed.

Applying for the jobs had been an appeasement to those in your life who were worried about you. You knew that Hoseok could tell something was wrong, but he just didn’t seem to know what to do or how to help. Understandable really, as you didn’t tell him what was wrong.

But staring down at your phone screen, the black letters bold against the white background that once more proclaimed you weren’t good enough, you felt something deep inside you break. Something that you hadn’t realised was holding on by the thinnest thread, chafing away with each negative thought that had passed through your mind over the years.

What’s the point?

The insipid question whispers through your mind.

Why am I trying?

A second slithers into place, taking comfort with its neighbour.

Why am I doing this?

A third nestles safely between the two brooding thoughts.

I’ll never be good enough for anything.

Leaning your head forehead, you let it rest on your hand on the railing, eyes closing as your other hand tightens on your phone. The hopelessness that your mind has spun to life explodes to life, multiplying into countless thoughts of desolation and gloom that somehow combine together to make your head feel heavy and your limbs tired.

Slumping down onto the ground, you turn and let your back press against the railings. It was your lunch currently and you were at the back of the parking lot that faced your building, the facade blank with no clue as to what was going on inside. 

Blinking slowly, you realise that your breath is stuttering, almost choking itself. Like your throat is closing around nothing while your heart races a thousand miles a minute. Glancing down, you realise that your hands are shaking violently and you try to swallow, the movement so hard. And then you press a palm to your chest, a small whimper leaving your mouth as you simply try to breath.

But it all feels too much. It’s all just too much.

There’s nothing inside your head but despondency and yet your body feels too much, like it can’t cope. Your mind swings violently between the white fuzz of nothing and the sheer panic of a looming sense of dread, the fear of failure, rejection. The fear that you meant nothing and your life was nothing.

I can’t do this anymore.

It’s a simple thought, only five words long and it dances through your mind like a leaf on the breeze. Effortless and simple. 

For a few seconds you think nothing of it, the part of your mind that wasn’t well agreeing with it and conceding that there was no point anymore. You weren’t doing anything useful in life anyway and you doubted anyone would truly notice if you’d gone. A cog in the machine of life, that’s all you were.

And cogs could be replaced after all.

But then that tiny voice that had been washed away earlier appeared again, resolute and defiant against the tidal waves of desolation that swamped it. The tiny kernel of hope and happiness that you’d once had, that had slowly grown and blossomed into a tree with roots so deep it couldn’t be moved. It was a little dejected and a little threadbare from lack of nourishment, but it was there all the same.

The part of you that didn’t want to give up, the part of you that wanted to fight for your life. The part that had spurred you to confidence to message Hoseok, that had encouraged you to keep going in college. The part of you that told you it didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to give in.

Your lungs are heaving now, body hunched over as you grip your legs so tightly, head pressed to your knees while salty tears drip down your face. A heartbeat that feels like it’s working overtime is so loud you can feel it in your chest, the tension in your arms and torso so strong that your muscles hurt from the ache of holding them for so long.

Eyes hot and stinging as the tears overflow, you press hard on your chest and try to regulate your breathing. Try to calm yourself down, to bring yourself back from the precipice of the pain and panic that you feel. The overwhelming rollercoaster of your emotions is giving you whiplash, the melancholy you had been swept with being beaten savagely by the fear of your inability to breath and the panic of how dark your thoughts had gotten.

You needed to talk to someone, you needed to see someone. You needed someone there, someone to tell you that it was okay. That you weren’t worthless. That you had value, that you were loved. That you would be missed. That life wouldn’t be okay without you, that you were needed and necessary. Someone to push away your thoughts for long enough to just let you think clearly.

You don’t even realise you’ve dialled his number, fingers moving on autopilot as if your body is trying to help when your mind has become so paralysed. It’s not until his voice finally manages to pierce through the incessant self-flagellation that your mind is undertaking that you blink in confusion, brow creasing as you wonder why he’s here.

Glancing up, you wipe away at the tears that keep falling and stare at your phone, squinting to focus. The familiar smiling face of your boyfriend stares back, a photo taken weeks back on a date day to the beach. Your heart clenched tightly and your breath shudders, the wheezing sound as your lungs work hard to try and get oxygen loud as you have the odd mixture of desperation to talk to him along with the dread of annoying him.

One of the things you’ve always hated was talking about these personal issues with people. Even though you knew rationally that people would rather you tell them about what was worrying and upsetting you, the gleefully self-destructive part of your mind told you that you were annoying them with your concerns.

But Hoseok was talking through the small speaker, his voice loud against the quiet scenery around you with only your hyperventilated breathing being the odd noise. And then his words finally made sense, the syllables that had broken through your ennui turning into sounds you understood.

It was the confusion in them that caused you to listen properly at first, the way he said your name repeatedly before the ragged sound of your breathing obviously began to register. Then your name became more frantic, the fear in his voice slicing through your own inner wail of despair.

“Y/N? Hello? Y/N are you there? Hellooo? Y/N? Are you okay? Hey, are you...Y/N are you crying? Y/N? Talk to me, come on. Answer me sweetheart, baby answer me. Y/N what’s wrong? Are you crying? Y/N please answer.” His voice is getting progressively louder, the concern and worry louder and you suddenly feel even more self-loathing at the knowledge you’ve panicked him.

“Hobi.” It’s all you can get out though, the word pushing past the tightness of your throat as it contracts so violently, air struggling to get past. Clutching your chest, you recognise an odd wailing sound that escapes with each breath outwards. Hands shaking, you press the phone to your ear and let out a broken sob, trying to talk to him.

“Baby, baby what’s wrong? Has something happened? Are you okay? Have you had an accident? Is it your parents?” He fires questions at you quickly, trying to find some answer as to why his girlfriend has called him in the middle of a workday only to be sobbing and wailing down the phone at him.

Particularly when you both knew how much you despised talking on the phone.

But just the sound of his voice is soothing to the frayed nerves within you, a balm to the deep and aching pain that lurks inside. It’s not enough to pull you out your breakdown, not yet at least. This isn’t a film and television show and you’re aware enough to realise that real life doesn’t happen like that.

God you felt warm, so warm. So unbelievably warm but the sweat on your skin is cold, like you’re ill. Squeezing your eyes shut, you choke as you inhale too fast and your diaphragm jerks in a way that has you almost hiccuping.

Even though he doesn’t actually know what’s happening, Hoseok still manages to do the right thing. Because he stops his own panicked questions, his voice suddenly stabilises and a calm tone taking over.

“Okay baby...baby, listen to me. Okay, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. It’s going to be okay sweetheart, I swear. Come on, can you hear me?” A torn sound of acknowledgement leaves you, your muscles aching with tiredness from how hard you’ve held yourself.

“That’s good, that’s really good baby. I want you to listen to me, okay? Listen to what I say and then do it for me. I want you to try and breathe in, take a big breath. Really big, come on, do it with me,” You hear him inhale loudly and you try to follow, the shakiness overtaking. “And now it let out. Nice and slow, come on. Do it again.”

He continues on encouraging you through it, his deep voice that you’ve fallen so deeply for so soothing and reassuring. It almost makes you want to cry just hearing it, but you listen to what he says. Closing your own eyes and simply focusing on inhaling and exhaling, pushing all the negativity away until all that’s left is breathing.

Finally, after what feels like an hour, you realise that your breaths are jerky but almost stable. Deep breathes in and out help your body to relax itself, muscles releasing while the demons of depression and anxiety take a step back in your mind. They’re still there, you can feel them hovering over the edges, but you feel like you can cope again.

Wiping at your face once more, you sniff and almost burst into tears again when you realise how utterly pathetic you feel. How stupid you are to fall apart like that over a job rejection of all things. And those demons inch forward, whispering into the fragile parts of you.

“Y/N, are you with me? Are you okay?” Leaning your head back against the railing, you nod quietly before remembering he’s not actually there. The first time you try to speak, your voice is croaky and what sounds like a bubble pops in your throat.

The second time works though. “I’m here. I’m...Hobi...I just...I can’t.” 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the words cause you to start crying once more. But this time, there’s none of the panic and fear behind them. These tears are blazingly hot, your skin prickling from the salt of them while your head pounds from the previous crying and emotional ride you’d just gone through.

This time, your tears were because you simply wanted him there. You wanted to just bury yourself in his arms and try to forget what had happened.

“Okay, okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but do you think you can go back to work? Or do you need to come home?” The very idea of going back into the office, sitting at your desk and doing all the mindless jobs that you loathe and despise with every fibre of your being fills you with a surge of feelings that makes you gasp in pain, head shaking rapidly.

You can’t, not today. You can’t go back to that, you can’t go back to the thoughts that this is going to be your life. That this is all you’ll ever be. All you’ll ever be worth. That you’ll never be good enough for anything.

“No.” It’s whimpered out, so soft and quiet but carrying a level of pain that you can’t even begin to properly explain to him. He understands though, a quiet sigh of his own as he obviously considers what to do.

“Okay...go in and ask them if you can take the rest of the day off. Tell them you’re ill. That you’ve been throwing up or something, whatever it takes. Are you okay to drive? Or do you want me to come get you?” Glancing over at your car, the Hyundai your dad had helped you to buy that was a dream compared to your previous car, you chew on your lip as you wipe at your face.

“I can drive. I can drive, it’s not far.” 

“Good. Go home and rest. I’ll be home when I can. Do you want to talk about whatever just happened when I do?” Looking down at the ground, you consider it before sniffling quietly.

“Yeah. I think I should.” Your voice cracks on the last word, yet more tears filling your eyes as your lip trembles dangerously. The thought of telling him is terrifying, but you feel like you’ve gone too far down this dark road now. And you don’t want to walk down it alone anymore, not when what you’re finding is so terrifying and scary.

“Okay. I’ll see you at home then.”

-

It was surprisingly easy to get your boss to let you go home early, easier than you thought it would have been. But maybe you looked a little worse than someone who had been throwing up, given the puffiness of your eyes and the overall haggard appearance you’d managed to take on. You didn’t look well, which worked in your favour in terms of being able to go home.

But you didn’t look well because you weren’t well. And you knew this.

As soon as you got home, you’d practically torn off your clothes before slipping on a well worn pair of soft grey leggings and a fuzzy sweatshirt, the material so soft on your body. It’s approaching the end of November and you revel in the warmth it offers you, curling on the couch into a tight ball with your head buried into the velvety Pusheen pillow that Hoseok had bought you a few weeks ago.

The soft padding of tiny paws on the wood floor alerts you to an incoming presence and you smile tiredly when Kasumi jumps up onto the couch with you, chirping at you quietly before butting her head against yours. Gently, you stroke at her fur and sigh as she settles, her head buried firmly into your neck and her small body vibrating as she purrs away happily.

“Are you happy my little purrbaby? Yeah?” You whisper to her, running your thumb over her silken ears before pressing your nose against her sleek fur. “My favourite little girl, aren’t you? A purry baby.”

The next few minutes consist of you just muttering nonsense to her as usual, your hand stroking automatically as you revel in the solid warmth of her against you. She remains where she is, paws flexing open and closed as the she pads at your chest and you can’t help the tiny smile that escapes as she does so.

“I love you, yes I do.” Maybe it’s a sign of how bad of a person you are that the only person you feel even remotely comfortable saying that to is your own cat. A cat who can’t answer back. Though maybe that’s the point. She relies on you for survival, therefore her love is a given.

Other’s though?

Her ears twitch suddenly and her eyes widen, that familiar look of alarm taking over her feline features and causing her to jerk upright. Frowning, you coo to her before realising you can hear the door opening.

A quick glance at the clock tells you that it’s not even 2pm and your brow creases in confusion. You go to question whoever it is, only he appears from the hallway into the room and your throat tightens immediately.

Hoseok isn’t wearing a fancy suit this time, instead just a pair of black jeans with a black button-up, his socks a contrast in white. His work had since changed their dress code policy to smart-casual, hence his jeans. But he wasn’t supposed to finish until 5pm.

“Why are you here?” Your words aren’t nearly as solid as you intended them to be, the sounds shaky and he lets out a tiny sigh.

“You really think I was gonna stay at work for the next few hours after my girlfriend, who hates using the phone, calls me and all I can hear is hyperventilating and crying? And then she’s so not okay that she actually goes home? No way. I’m gonna work the time back later but I felt that you shouldn’t be alone right now.” He makes it all sound so simple, like there wasn’t even a question in his mind about what he’d do.

It chips away at something inside you, a chink in the solid wall of protection you’d built over the years that held back all your deepest and darkest fears and concerns from others. And in an instant, that wall shatters in a tsunami of emotion.

Lips trembling violently while your vision blurs from the tears filling it, you simply open your arms to him and whimper out his name in a tone so broken and lost that it almost makes Hoseok cry just hearing it. Not that you know that, nor can you see the way his face crumples for a moment at seeing you break so quickly.

You don’t see because the tears block your vision of him, but you feel it when he sits on the couch next to you and wraps you in his arms. Without a word, you squeeze your arms around him so tightly, as if you were afraid that if you let go then he’d vanish.

And you let yourself break in the comfort of his embrace, in the safety of presence and the reassurance of his stability. A horrible sound of pure agony escapes your throat, dragged from the deepest depths and a part of you is surprised at it. At how much pain it encapsulates.

Once you start though, you can’t stop and you simply cry into Hoseok’s arms, letting yourself go in a way that you never have before. Exposing your vulnerabilities and all the jagged points of pain inside your psyche that you’d kept hidden for so long, afraid that no one would care or would see them as a sign of weakness if you let them out.

Hoseok doesn’t judge you though, he doesn’t complain or sigh in annoyance. Instead, he spends the next ten minutes simply hugging you so tightly to him, his hands stroking your back in long movements that soothe you and reassure you that he’s here, that he cares. Vaguely, you recognise him whispering things to you but you don’t put enough thought into what he’s saying.

The earlier breakdown you’d suffered had been frightening and painful; the fear of not understanding what was happening properly combining with the gaping hole of self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy. This didn’t feel like a breakdown though. It felt cathartic almost, like each sob that escaped you, each tear that wet Hoseok’s shirt was another weight being lifted off your mind and shoulders.

By the time you finally calm down enough until the tears are silent and the only noise you make is the hiccuped breathing of someone who’s cried so hard their throat and eyes hurt, you feel almost relaxed. Maybe crying was a good thing sometimes, but you knew that it was because you’d come to terms with the fact that you had to talk about your issues and most importantly, you had to reach out to others for help.

Now the room is completely quiet, only broken by the occasional sniffle from you. You’d expected him to start asking questions immediately but he doesn’t, instead just holding you in a protective embrace while you calm down.

Oddly, it makes you feel a little better that he doesn’t freak out or pepper you with questions. His reassuring presence helps to calm your frayed nerves and you find yourself playing with one of the buttons on his shirt, bottom lip pouting out as you realise his shirt is plastered to his chest from your tears.

“I’m sorry about your shirt.” You whisper, voice hoarse and low. There’s no response for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh, warm lips pressing to your hairline affectionately.

“That’s fine. It’s just a shirt,” Hoseok pauses, shifting to hug you in a more comfortable position on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The way he leaves the question open for you lets you know that he’s giving you an out, a way to turn him down. You know he wouldn’t be particularly happy if you didn’t talk about what had caused you to have such a breakdown, but he would acknowledge your decision.

“I just...I got another rejection.” Fingers smooth at the wrinkles in his shirt, the text from the email running through your mind once more and you can practically feel your spirit sinking again. “I don’t know, it just...it got too much. I know it sounds really stupid and I can’t really explain it all or anything but...it was just too much. Everything has been too much lately and yet I just feel so empty and uncaring.”

Hoseok doesn’t interrupt you, letting you spill out your inner thoughts to him, even if they don’t make a lot of sense. 

“I’ve been...I mean...lately I...I’m not...I’m not okay.” Your voice wavers dangerously, lip trembling and you tighten your hand on the fabric of his shirt. “I just feel...I can’t...I can’t, I just can’t. I don’t feel like I can do this anymore, it’s just so hard. So hard to get up and go to work when I hate my fucking job. It’s like my mind is dying every second in there and my soul is shrivelling up too. But I’m not good enough to get out and I’ll never get out and all I can think is...is this it? Is this going to be my life? Is this all I’ll ever do? Is this all I’ll ever be worth? Is this all I’ll do? And the thought of this being all I do for the rest of my life is...I mean...I just...I can’t Hoseok. I can’t, I can’t do it. I don’t even want to wake up if I have to do this forever.”

The words are rushed from you, blurring together as you feel the deep hysteria and panic rising within you once more. Hands clenching his shirt are shaking while your breath is coming a little faster again and your poor, swollen eyes are stinging from the heat of yet more tears. You’d have thought you had none left to cry.

“It’s like everything is weighing me down, all of it. My job, my lack of career, my finances and just me as a person. It’s all building in my head and I just...I can’t. But at the same time I feel nothing inside. I wake up and wonder why I’m bothering to get up because I have nothing to do, I can’t focus on shows or games or books. I’m lethargic and unhappy and the idea of going out just makes me want to cry. I drove home from the store the other day and the entire time I felt like there was a hive of bees in my stomach, all angry and my heart was racing. I didn’t even know what I was anxious about! That’s not normal and it happens all the time. I’ve tried, for you and my parents and friends but it always comes back. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.” You’re not entirely sure what you can’t do, but you say it so forcefully that Hoseok simply nods.

He doesn’t speak at first, contemplating what to say and trying to remember what his therapist had discussed with him all those years ago when he’d gone. It was hard, because obviously your case wasn’t like his. But he wanted to help, or at least try and guide you in the right direction. Because you were reaching out, and he wanted to be the one to hold you steady while you fought your way out of the darkness.

“How long have you been feeling like this? I’ve noticed you pulling away recently, I didn’t want to push you on it though.” Hoseok admits, his voice soothing as he runs a thumb along your cheek, wiping your tears away.

Almost childishly, you shrug. “I don’t know. It comes and goes. I always...I hate doing things that make me happy or excited because I always crash after. And the longer my happiness goes on, the harder and further I crash after. It’s like my mind can’t cope with just...being...normal.”

Hoseok shakes his head firmly then, pulling back slightly to get you to look at him. His eyes are worried and his expression is concerned, but you can tell he’s determined. You can also tell that you’ve just said something that he disagrees with.

“Don’t call yourself not normal. At the risk of sounding like some lame quote from the early 2010s, there’s no such thing as normal. You’re just...you’re not okay right now. I think we can both tell that. And there’s nothing wrong with not being okay. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re having mental health problems and I hope you won’t be angry with me for saying it but...this...today...baby I think you need to see a doctor or something. I can’t tell you what will help because I don’t know, and I don’t want to mess it up. But you have to want to get help.”

Looking down at your hands, you sniff quietly as you contemplate what he’s said. As per usual, he’s said it sweetly and in a way that isn’t offensive. The very idea of admitting that you had mental health issues made you quail inside, wanting to tell him that he was wrong and you were fine. 

But he wasn’t wrong...and you weren’t fine. 

“What if they don’t believe me? Or tell me it’s just in my head? Or that I’m just sad or something? And what if work finds out and they get angry at me? People will tell me I’m just faking it or something, looking for attention.” The stereotypes slip from your lips without you realising it but you’re worried.

Despite the push for being more open around mental health lately, you know that people still don’t view it positively. That admitting depression or anxiety can often come with an eye roll or an exasperated sigh. You knew how it went, you weren’t depressed you were just tired or weren’t willing to put in effort and so forth.

But you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be, not when it felt so real and strong.

“Sweetheart, if they think at your work then fuck them. You already hate that place and you’re looking for something new. Don’t let them get to you, you are more important than anyone there. And if they want to act like shit around something as serious as this, then they don’t deserve you. Your doctor should listen, and if they don’t then make them listen. They’re there for you, not the other way around. It’s in your head purely because it’s your mental health and it can be helped. I won’t lie, it’s probably not gonna get cured. But you’ll find ways to cope. And I’ll be here for you. So will your parents and your friends. We care for you and we want you to be okay.” He rubs at your arms then, his touch warm even through the soft material of your sweater.

“I’ve watched you draw into yourself and it’s worried me for a while now. But if you’re willing to reach out to me at your lowest, which I’m going to assume that breakdown was your lowest, then I think you want help. I can’t make it go away, but I can help support you while you get your feet back under you. Will you consider going to the doctor? Please?”

Pushing your head into his neck harder, you sniff hard and pushing the sleeves of your sweater past your hands. Your heart races at the thought of discussing your personal issues with someone you don’t know, but you know Hoseok is right. You need help, you need to reach out.

Swallowing hard, you realise that you need to do what he’s suggesting. You don’t want to get back to that point where you realised you didn’t care if you lived or died anymore. Because you wanted your life to get better. You just didn’t have the tools to pull yourself out of the swamp.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His body relaxes imperceptibly at your agreement and you feel bad, realising how worried he must have been for you. But that worry vanishes when he tilts your head up to his, a sweet smile on his face before he kisses you gently.

“Good. You won’t regret it, I swear. And thank you. For trusting me enough to call me when you were afraid and for telling me now. I want to try and help you anyway I can. I know what it’s like to feel very lost and afraid. I just got angry at the world though. So...please talk to me when you’re not feeling okay, even if you think I’m going to be annoyed or can’t be bothered. Because I’d rather you talk and vent to me than do something else.” And suddenly, you realise he’s got tears in his own eyes.

Reluctant tears you can tell, the way he gives a small smile that’s forced, his dimples showing but no real happiness behind it. Swallowing, your own smile wobbles too as you realise that he must have been so worried.

“I will. I swear. I swear.” His lips press to your forehead, resting there long after he’s finished his kiss and you simply embrace it, absorbing his deep feelings to you that you can tell he has even though he doesn’t say a word. Unsurprising really, because you feel all the positive and warm feelings you have towards him blossoming through the hollowness in your chest.

He’s not going to fix you and you both know that. But you’re surprised to realise that you don’t want him to either. That this is something you have to start yourself. For your own peace of mind but also so that you don’t become reliant on him while pressuring Hoseok with something as precarious as your mental health.

You’ve reached out for help finally, and now you just need to accept the help you’re given in turn.

[waterrunstogether]

Rites of Passage in the Fifth World

I’ve been thinking lately about the absence of real rites of passage in modern “western culture”. A rite of passage is a sort of ritualized event (that may or may not be endorsed/organized by a community) in which a person is believed to exit from one stage of life and enter the next, usually from childhood to adulthood. Other than the humiliation of high school proms/frat hazing, or getting your driver’s license, or turning 21 and getting shitfaced, my culture in the United States has little to offer in the way of true rites of passage. 

The result is a population of confused, somewhat disillusioned children driving around and going to work or university and pretending to be adults while hopelessly stuck in the liminal space between youth and adulthood.

~ 20 year old me pretending to know what’s going on ~

I have thought about quinceañeras and baptisms, religious rites of passage commonly practiced still, but considering the traumatic experience that my parents’ organized religion was for me, I don’t believe now that my baptism was a helpful event facilitating my transition into maturity. I think it was a blindingly painful event whose toxicity I needed to overcome in what I now believe was the true rite of passage. 

I first dropped acid when I was traveling in Bulgaria. My partner was in her hometown across the country and I was visiting Plovdiv with a friend. We had just finished traveling the world, or at least Eurasia, meeting new faces and trying new things and taking wild risks in Thailand and Turkey and India and Malaysia, to name a few. I had also just escaped the cult I was born and raised in which had hammered into me from birth that my sexual and romantic orientation was an abomination, as a woman I was to obey men, God loved me and wanted me to fear him (that is to say, love = fear), the leaders of the church were to be obeyed and respected all the time (even if they were obviously wrong) and so on and so forth. It was an insane transition between being trapped in these religious handcuffs and learning that I could break free all along. In fact, I carried so much self hatred and internalized homophobia with me into my supposed new life that I didn’t know what to do with myself. Despite being outwardly happier than I had ever been before with a wonderful partner and community who truly loved and supported me for who I was, inwardly I was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown due to all of the conflicting thoughts and beliefs I was carrying and creating within myself.

The experience of that first trip was an interesting one. Every step of the way my body seemed to pull me towards the letting go of all of the toxicity that was so thick and had built up like plaque in the arteries of my energetic being--yet, I remained me throughout the trip, at the end feeling somewhat empowered but not yet finished with the transformation.

A few months later I took psilocybin, AKA magic mushrooms, with my little brother on a rainy Summer day in D.C. The whole come up of the trip was talking to trees and observing the movements of leaves, running my fingers over the moss growing on the exposed, knotty roots of tree in front of our house. But at the end of the trip, something changed. Once again my body requested, begged me, to let go of the still-prevalent toxicity inside of me. My health was in rough shape, mentally and physically, and my body knew the culprit. But once more I felt I couldn’t let go just yet, it would be too much for me, I wasn’t ready. So I spent the entire come down and then some, maybe four hours, weeping uncontrollably on the basement floor.

The second time I dropped acid was yesterday, with my partner, here in Berlin. It changed everything.

During the come up I was taken aback by how strong the effect it had on me was. My partner, bless her heart, had taken a larger dose than me, yet felt no effect the entire time. Her tolerance has always been naturally higher than mine for every kind of intoxicating substance, and LSD was no exception. 

As time went on I came to realize that her high tolerance was incredibly fortunate for me and my trip. The initial come up was amusing, as flashes of white light began to fill up my eyes, closed and open; but very quickly I began to get paranoid, strange little thoughts about being set up and targeted running through my mind as my sense of self slowly began to dissipate, just nonsense that the ego conjures up to protect itself. But my partner’s calming reassurances that she loved me and that I was safe effectively calmed me down.

Once I began to enjoy the ride up, holding a half of a pomegranate and appreciating its beauty, touching a slice of orange and loving how soft it felt in my hands, admiring the fractals of color creating all kinds of geometric shapes on the walls and snow outside the window, I became comfortable with my loss of identity. At some point I realized that I didn’t even know my name, and I didn’t care, because it was irrelevant. All that was relevant was experience. 

Imagine experiencing and interacting with the world around you without the barrier of the thing that we are so used to that it’s difficult to think of it as a barrier at all: your concept of self. Ideas about names and races and gender and desire and anger and malice and hatred just made absolutely no sense whatsoever. In this state, all that made sense was goodness and beauty and love. All that I understood was harmony and mutually beneficial behavior. My preconceived notions about who I was and what that meant were being shattered and shredded before my very eyes, exposed for what they were: nonsense.

Once I plateaued and began to slowly come down after about four or five hours I was able to contemplate what these things meant, what they would mean for me going forward. I went into the bathroom around hour 7 and decided that it was time to look into the mirror.

Many people will tell you not to look into the mirror during an acid trip, that it’ll give you the dreaded “bad trip” and you’ll have a shit time. I completely disagree. If you are like me and need to come to terms with yourself through the wonderful, horrific, beautiful, terrifying experience that is an “ego death”, I’m afraid that you’ll have no choice but to look into the mirror at some point. 

So, I stared myself down in the mirror and admitted what I couldn’t admit for so long, due to being taught that I was essentially evil since the day I was born. I’d called myself a sinner, wicked, worthless, ugly, an abomination and just about every other mean word in the evangelical dictionary. But as I stood there looking at my body in the mirror, egoless and impartial, I said, “You have done and thought some cruel things to yourself for some time now. But you know what? You are a kind person. You are a wonderful person. You treat people with respect and love, you treat everyone you’ve ever met with so much empathy, so much caring. You love the truth, you love to be generous, you love to be a good friend. You must begin to treat yourself the same way. I know you’ve had so much hatred in your heart contaminating your energy for so long, but that is enough. That is enough. No more. I am a kind person. I am a kind person. I love you. Remember that night so long ago? Beneath the stars, where they submerged you in the baptismal water and tried to destroy you, saying these sacred waters would wash all your sins away, along with your fragile, meaningless identity? Well, they simply added more to your ego, a darker side. You built up so much negativity for so long. Well, look at you now. Your identity, all of the ideas and concepts that you’ve built up around who you really are to protect you from the hurt of Life, it’s all gone. Now you’re going to baptize yourself again. You’ll be truly reborn, this time dedicated not to destroying yourself for the sake of a religion, but dedicated to renewing and becoming and becoming and becoming.” As I looking into the mirror my silhouette became filled in with the velvet black of the night sky, full of bright stars.

I turned on the water and was baptized once again, by my own hands.

When I returned to the room I felt happier than I had ever felt in my life, light as air, free. I told several people about how much I love them and described my love for them in detail, not as this thing that’s an extension of my own ego, but my love for them was a little bit of energy that I had the honor of holding in me, in this body, and sharing between us for a time, for the wonderful events that we call our lives. I could actually see love. I understood that I was not all of the concepts I’ve built around myself, but an expression of energy in this space and time, connected to every other expression of energy in all of history, from the beginning and until the end. My matter, my body, was simply a vehicle for the energy, and would be recycled into new vehicles after I die. My energy would be transferred into new vehicles as well. That’s what we perceive as death: just a simple transfer of energy and recycling of matter. My ego would not live on, thankfully. My consciousness as conflated with ego would cease to exist with me. But the underlying animating force behind all things in the universe, the true source of consciousness, would never be destroyed or created, simply recycled again and again and again and again. Becoming and becoming and becoming and becoming.

The hilarious and bizarre world of reality is hilarious and bizarre. It’s so beautiful and mystical and wonderful and honestly, nothing I write here could ever explain how I experienced being alive in that sixteen hour trip. Words don’t convey it, words can’t convey it. Reality is visceral, experiential, impartial and impossible to quantify in something as crude as human language. 

All I know is that, today, I am a fundamentally changed person. I’d feared ego death for so long, feared that it would be too much, too painful. And it was so, so painful--but it was so worth it. I am happy and proud to exist, grateful for everything I have accomplished and can accomplish in this miraculous, tiny little vessel during this ephemeral event that is my life. I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow if tomorrow exists, and unleash all of my love on everyone who’ll have it. Love is the energy that unites us with our own bodies and the entire world around us. How lucky and strange it is to be anything at all.

May you have a peaceful day. The universe smiles upon you.

[mavmax]

The Art of Vulnerability | Maverick + Sooyun

When: June 21st, 2021

Where: Maverick’s Apartment

Warnings: Emotional breakdown, Depression, Self-loathing

Featuring: @sooyunjeong

Maverick laid on Sooyun's lap, his mind was in and out of watching what was on tv and his own clouded mind. He felt guilt, but he didn't show it to her, he wanted to be brave for her, be tough, and protect her. That was what he had to do, after all, but, even then, he could feel himself fighting back tears, when one managed to slip down his cheek, and he tried wiping it away before it landed on her lap.

sooyun jeong

Sooyun was watching a kdrama, a show that was beyond cheesy romance and figured it was a decent show to watch while she unwind from practice and her hand began throbbing from over using it. She was preoccupied by the male lead aggressively shouting in korean when she felt him move, glancing down at him on her lap, she reached down to smooth his hair with her left hand and leaned over to catch a look at his face. “Are you okay?”

Maverick froze at Sooyun’s question for a moment. Should he say that he was okay? Smile it off and nod and go back to the show? Or should he show the vulnerability, open up fully for once and let down that wall that he knew he had put up at Pride. He let out a shaky sigh, and shook his head quietly.

sooyun jeong

Sooyun realized that this was going to be something serious, her mind racing through reasons on why he was upset, so many ideas racing that she tried not to appear overwhelmed. Instead she tilt her head, “what’s wrong?”

Maverick could feel a part of him fighting to not even show a semblance of vulnerability. Part of the wall wanted to go up, to show that he got this, that he could lie and say he was tired, but in reality...the other part wanted to open up to Soo, he was hurt, exhausted, frustrated all at once. "I'm tired," He began softly. "I'm tired of not feeling like I'm wanted by anyone."

sooyun jeong

Hearing his voice, the difference between his usual tone and this one, she realized that perhaps he was hurting. Sooyun turned his face to look up at her, “what are you talking about? You are wanted.” She said softly, it pained her to see him like this, she can see the vulnerability in him and it made her realize he was always having this facade up.

When Sooyun turned Mav's face towards hers, his vision was instantly blurred by tears as he shook his head. "People are always like 'hey, you want him? cause I don't', whenever I do something that's just...a part of me. I've had that, my whole life. There was a part in my life, where I felt really unwanted and whenever I hear it, I can't help but wonder if everyone's...better...off without me. So, there's that," He responded calmly, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to escape him. He was finally letting down his walls.

sooyun jeong

Sooyun felt an immense guilt fill her chest, thinking back to when Soo thought she was joking but realized it was a trigger for Maverick, her eyes soften as she used her thumb to wipe away the tear that was ready to fall. “Mav…” she trailed off, her voice shaking, swallowing down the feeling as she gave him a smile. “Life without you would be boring, when I said that…when I said those words to Blaine, I was joking—not knowing that it affects you deeply. I’m sorry I said those words without thinking about your feelings. I was just angry at what your ex did to you without your consent and I took it out on you.” Sooyun lowered her gaze, talking about feelings and such was still a hard thing for her to do but she was slowly growing to understand. “I love everything about you Mav, even the parts that annoy me, I still find myself loving you even more.”

Maverick took a shaky breath to calm his own breathing, it was hard to even address his own feelings without feeling like he was drowning in them. Soo's touch, however, kept him afloat. He took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "It's not your fault, you didn't know," He said softly. When her gaze shifted, he knew that it was hard for Sooyun to open up, too. It was something both of them had in common, after all. He reached his hand up to her cheek. "It's something I didn't think I'd ever talk about, my sisters know, Eric knows by proxy...but, I wanted to be strong for you, that's why I didn't want to say anything, you know? I love you and I just...I wanted to be that protective boyfriend."

sooyun jeong

“You don’t always have to be the strong protective boyfriend Mav, you’re human, just be open with me.” Soo reassured him, meeting his eyes once more and leaned into his touch, taking in his features and pushing some of hair away from his face. “I’m tired of people thinking they need to be strong for me, I’m a big girl and I can handle anything thrown my way…I want you to be okay….to be mentally okay as well.”

"I've always had to...be the protective one, you know? The one time I just...existed, well, we know what happened there," Mav chuckled dryly, but he nuzzled into Soo's touch. His vision getting clearer as he focused on her warm brown eyes. "I know...trust me, I know you're capable. Hell, you broke your hand for me and I can't help but feel guilty. I don't want you to hurt yourself for me," He sighed. "I wanna be okay, I wanna be vulnerable around you, you know?"

sooyun jeong

Sooyun rolled her eyes and lightly flicked his forehead, “I didn’t break my hand for you, I broke it because I was so mad that I didn’t hold my hand correctly for a fist. All I was thinking is just one bop to the face would do but I didn’t think she had it in her to fight back.” She grabbed his hand and brought it up to her mouth to kiss it, “you need to stop blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”

Maverick chuckled lightly at Soo’s finger flick and he used his free hand to rub his forehead lightly. “I know, I just…I still felt responsible, you know? I know she deserved the sock to the face which, was epic, but, yknow,” he sighed. He smiled at her gesture and as a result he slowly got up to finally face her properly. “I’ll try,” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.

sooyun jeong

Sooyun let her lower lip poke out in a pout and wrapped her arms around him, nudging his forehead with her own, “Since I’m still learning new things about you…we should make up a word to inform each other we are upset instead of storming out of the room. When you left abruptly, I wanted to chase after you but obviously they made me go check my hand then I had to go on stage. I don’t want you to face these situations alone…I want you to be able to lean on me.”

Maverick smiled at Sooyun’s cute pout and curled into her instinctively, letting his own warms wrap around her small frame. He rested his forehead against hers and let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, we can do that…I’m sorry for storming out, by the way. I tend to do that before I lash out and I don’t ever want to at you,” He said softly. “No, no, I get it, which by the way, you killed it on stage. Broken hand and all,” He teased. “I won’t face it alone, not anymore…” His hand went softly to her cheek and he then said, “This sounds basic, but maybe code red? Or just saying red? I could also hold your hand if I say it if we’re standing next to each other?”

sooyun jeong

“Code red can work…red…it’s simple and easy to remember.” She agreed with him, she wanted to be able to be there for him, through the good and ugly of it. She knew relationships weren’t always going to be fairytale like, it was supposed to be hard to learn to lean on someone other than yourself. “If you lash out on me, I will find it incredibly hot to see you pissed and allow you to yell at me,” She admitted with a smirk

"I was thinking the same, nothing too complicated, you know?" Maverick offered with a small smile. It was definitely huge progress than before. It wasn't always going to be rosy and easy. Sometimes there was going to be bumps in the road, sometimes they were going to clash, but through Sooyun, he learned how to lean on someone emotionally rather than go into it independently, because after all, a relationship was two people and their emotions, not just one. "Babe," He laughed, shaking his head. "Are you saying you want me to be a little more aggressive?"

sooyun jeong

Sooyun laughed, "Yes that's exactly what I am asking, because instead of storming out, just grab my hand and pull me away somewhere quiet and you can take your frustrations out on me--or if you need a shoulder to cry on." She let her cast rest onto her lap, she wanted Maverick to at least lean on her in tough times, to think that two months ago she wouldn't have cared yet here she was.

"I'll do better and not storm out on you, but I also won't yell at you because I know that shit sucks...but, if you want me to be aggressive, all you gotta do is ask," Mav teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "But yeah...I'll let you know when something's bothering me from here on out, I promise." And he meant every word. A few months ago, she would've been the last person he'd go to, but she was there for him and understood him.

sooyun jeong

"But what if I want you to grab me and we leave and I allow you to take out your frustrations on me?" She playfully batted her eyelashes and laughed, reaching up to caress his cheek, "As long as you know I am here now, i will support whatever choices you make--I'll most likely question it but I will be here."

“I’ll wind up giving you so many hickeys,” Maverick chuckled at that thought of how rough he’d be with Sooyun. He nuzzled his cheek into her hand and the devilish grin had softened into his usual smile. “Thank you, Soo. And just know, I’m here for you too, okay? I know this opening up thing isn’t easy for both of us, but, I wanna make it work for us. Just like you’re doing for me.”

sooyun jeong

"Like you don't already? Who are you trying to play?" Sooyun laughed, the sound of the show playing some sappy music made her realize the show they were watching ended but at the moment she didn't care, Maverick was opening up to her and she enjoyed that. "We're working on it, we've both been hurt as you stated so of course it will take some time for the both of us to learn how to trust again. I want you to know I would never cheat on you...even though I was notorious for having multiple lovers, I can be faithful."

“But they’re tiny hickeys. The other ones out of frustration would be huge,” Maverick chuckled. It definitely didn’t help they were having this talk as the sappy kdrama music played in the background but at the same time, it was fitting for the moment. At Sooyun’s words he nodded with a smile, his hand reaching up to her cheek to caress it softly. “You’re right…and for what it’s worth, you won’t ever have to worry about me straying from you or getting hurt. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

sooyun jeong

"Small or large, they're still hickies," Sooyun laughed, "And besides, pretty much everyone knows we're dating at this point, which by the way, I love how we said we'd keep it on the down low, yet here we are." She knew her manager was most likely having a ball with that, soo on the other hand didn't care as long as people knew that Maverick was her boyfriend. "You better because, I don't think I can break my left hand or maybe I can ask Jae for advice."

“Hmmm…I guess you’re right,” Mav chuckled as he carefully watched her neck. “My favorite one is fading though, bummer,” He pouted for a moment. “Oh, definitely. Which is funny cause we did say we’d keep it on the low but here we are, holding hands and being cute in public…I like it though. I feel like it just brought us closer together you know?” He pointed out with a grin. “Um yeah let’s not break the other hand but hey push comes to shove, I’ll make out with you in public…or we could ask Jae for the best course of action?”

sooyun jeong

Sooyun could feel the heat of his gaze on her neck, the spot where the hickie he placed, it had her shiver in delight of him replacing it. She mentally told her hormones to relax as she tilt her head, "I mean...you can always place another one there again." She suggested innocently, but she knew that once he started anywhere near her neck she would allow it to go further. "I feel like Jae would just suggest to whack them in the face, but making out in public isn't so bad."

A smirk curled on Maverick’s lips as he watched Soo purposely tilt her neck towards him to show off the fading hickey, but also give him a free invite to add onto it. “Hmm,” Mav purposely leaned forward, letting his breath fall onto Soo’s neck. “Tempting but I should behave,”. He chuckled. “Yeah that’s true…let’s do less battery and more making out.”

[hquirks]

Karasuno & College AU Pt. 1

School: Karasuno

Genre: headcanons, fluff, crack, slice of life 

Warnings: mental health breakdowns 

A/N: This is a Haikyuu!! Headcanon where the Karasuno first years attend the same college and experience their first semester. This is written under the assumption that they attend a Japanese college that follows an American college system. Lastly, most of these headcanons were based on our own personal experiences in college and from our friends.

Disclaimer: This is very...long LMAO. We’ve been working on this for the past 2 weeks on and off. We just had a lot of feelings but we had so much fun! We’re sorry but we hope you enjoy!!

By: Noodle ✨, BananaMilk 🐯, & FriedOmurice 🌊

HINATA SHOYO

Sports Communication Major

Gets scouted by a university’s volleyball team for either middle blocker/winged spiker

Procrastinates so HARD like does his essay that’s due at 8 am the night before. He PASSES his classes especially the ones for his major and what he is randomly interested in but he is still a mess when it comes to studying.

Though Hinata would be the person you see openly crying out of sadness and doom at 1am in the library

While he has gotten better in taking care of his body, however like any college student, he lives on redbull and coffee especially during finals. 

Tries to not pull all nighters but will due to his procrastination and inability to get work done efficiently

Lives in the same dorm building as Kageyama but on different floors. They burst into each other’s rooms unannounced all the time since they’ve established long ago that they are best friends and do not give a fuck. They banter with each other 24/7 (their respective roommates have grown immune to their loudness and bickering.)

Hinata’s roommate is Inouka from Nekoma!! They both get along really well and are able to live well together so they stay roommates the rest of the years in college. Hinata is a little messier than Inuoka but he keeps his messes to his side that Inuoka never minds.

Their apartment is super wholesome bc since they’re always encouraging each other, they leave little notes like “You got this!!”, “Good luck on your exam!” or “You’re amazing and awesome! Don’t forget it!” Also, the apartment just looks really homey, very lived in.

He becomes kinda popular at school because he just ends up befriending all his classmates (and is even closer to the people in his major) and also because of being on the volleyball team!! Hinata gets recognized everywhere even when he’s off campus and everyone says hi to him, and he never minds.

As a freshman, he attends all of the freshman events and all the free events that happen every day Friday!!!! His favorite Friday event is when they get to stuff an animal (either their school mascot or another animal) and are able to dress it up and keep it! (His favorite is an owl dressed like a volleyball player that he named Little Giant)

Tries to get involved with other clubs but because of volleyball and his inability to juggle more than 3 things, he doesn’t (but still ends up becoming friends with the people in the club bc they think he’s so friendly and fun)

Ends up going to a lot of events held by the clubs he’s befriended! He kinda of becomes a recruiter for the clubs because if he finds someone who talks about an interest, he recommends them one of the clubs. (The clubs are forever grateful because they always get an influx of people during fall semester every year.)

His first semester grades consists of:

- The Coming of Individuality (mandatory freshman course): C+ - Japanese Literature: C - Sports Media and Society: B - Principles of Sports Reporting: A - Biology 1: C-

Hinata has a breakdown about his grades because he does not want to lose his starting spot on the volleyball team. However, he improves much more due to the help of his friends like Yachi and Inuoka the next semester.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

Sports therapy

Also gets scouted as a setter by the same university as Hinata

Since Hinata is adamant about attending all the freshman events and free events the campus offers every Friday, he eventually gets pulled into going with Hinata even though he doesn’t want to. 

Thanks to Karasuno and Hinata, he has softened over the years and has learned to be more sociable with others, but he still prefers to hang out with the first years squad and is still a quiet person. 

In their first dorm year, Kunimi and Kindaichi were planning to room together & they were looking for a third roommate, and Kageyama was assigned to their room

They eventually grow mutual respect towards each other

His grades are better than when he was in high school because he actually likes his classes, but he still sucks at general education subjects

He lives on coffee and 5 hour energies to get through finals. He has to cut down on the 5 hour energies because he ends up not sleeping for 3 days straight and he starts to get worried.

Kageyama eventually caves in and tries to join other clubs that do not revolve around volleyball thanks to his friends. Somehow, and the first year squad is still confused as to how, he grew to love the cooking club and he gets really excited whenever they’re trying out a new dish! (He also thinks that as an athlete knowing how to cook and take care of his body is crucial). 

One day when they’re hanging out at Yamaguchi and Tsukki’s apartment, he cooks for them a recipe he learned from the club. The others are really apprehensive at first to taste it, but are genuinely so surprised that it actually tasted REALLY good and immediately start showering him compliments and yelling. Kageyama’s brain goes mush and all he can say is HINATA BOKE(Hinata: WHAT??? I was complimenting you and I wasn’t the only one, Bakageyama!!) 

Besides going on his daily runs, he will also find time to go to the gym early in the mornings. He brings Hinata along with him and they just end up competing at the gym. They become regulars and befriend the front desk people and the security guards.

Because of how popular and good-looking he is, he ends up developing a fan club but doesn’t know about it until one day Tsukki points it out. It’s right after midterms in their 1st year and all five are out to eat. Tsukki’s gets annoyed because there’s just been a hoard of girls (& guys) following them in the restaurant.

Tsukki: can you tell your fanclub to leave us alone?

Kags: ...my what???

Tsukki, unimpressed but not surprised:....

Hinata points out that he has a fanclub like the Great King and Kageyama just blanches...he wants to be like Oikawa but not like this LMFAO

Kageyama’s first semester grades:

- The Coming of Individuality (mandatory freshman course): C+ - Principles of sports therapy A+ - General Japanese 1 C- - Calculus 1 B+ - Ethical Issues in Sport A-

TSUKISHIMA KEI

World History major (Honors Program)

Very orderly with his course plans (LEARNING CURVE WHO??)

The guy who plans his week ahead and actually diligently studies. Since Tsukki is BUSY all the time in college, his planner is DETAILED and NEAT. He carries it with him all the time in his backpack or pocket since it is so small and portable. If needed whenever his plans do change, he would carry small sticky notes to plan it out on the spot and make sure everything goes smoothly still. Plus he hates it when it looks messy so sticky notes are a must.

Doesn’t usually go to events on his own willpower. He usually gets dragged into events by his upperclassmen (Kuroo and Bokuto) or Yamaguchi begs to go with him because he doesn’t want to go alone. 

Enjoys going to the college’s on-campus museums during his spare time. He visits seasonally since the museums change up one exhibit every few month dedicated to a certain event or artist. His favorite is the art museum because it’s quiet and calming. (Also, he’s undisturbed by the others...)

Doesn’t want to be the group manager but becomes one anyway because he just can’t watch others “ruin” his grade. 

Has some university credits already from his AP classes / dual enrollment so he’s already finished with some general education requirements but still needs a few more. 

He can actually graduate a semester early BUT decides against it because his apartment lease goes through the next semester and doesn’t want to be bothered with finding someone else to take his spot. (He won’t admit it but he would kinda sorta miss the 4 idiots...)

Sometimes he forgets to eat (Yamaguchi usually reminds him plus they end up going to lunch together too). Often buys starbucks sandwiches on the way to class.

He has his own starbucks cup. He always drinks the same thing, so the workers remember his face and order. Sometimes they make his order ahead of time because they know. Loves their chocolate croissants. 

That bitch who drinks BLACK coffee every morning for enjoyment!!! He also drinks espresso for necessity during finals

Arrives to class early so he can get the really nice seat in the back and doesn’t want to sit next to anyone

In class discussions, Tsukki is a classic smartass. He will not hesitate to give out his opinion and often plays devil's advocate for the class.

He doesn’t join the school official volleyball team, but joins the volleyball club instead because he has to juggle between being in the honors program, being a research assistant, and playing volleyball

Doesn’t want to admit it, but still supports the boys at the official volleyball team. Goes to almost every game in disguise.

Tsukki’s first semester grades:

- The Coming of Individuality (mandatory freshman course): A- - European History and Culture A+ - History Research Seminar: A+ - Crime and Punishment in Japanese History: A+ - Empires, Nationalism, and Revolution: A+ 

Won’t say it, but is actually pretty upset that he got a A- in Coming of Individuality

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI

He majors in psychology and minors in business administration. 

Knows where all the university gardens are and has a favorite spot when he studies sometimes if he wants some fresh air.

In continuation, he knows and goes to all the nice trails and parks around the city. He tries to go when he cans and he often brings the other first years when they all have the time. (Everyone except Tsukki enjoys it...but Tsukki grows to love it as well.)

Yamaguchi and Yachi go together to pet the therapy dogs every Friday by the library and cry from the cuteness and love they receive. They have a favorite dog that is a shiba inu named Mizu who is the ABSOLUTE sweets and gets so many belly rubs from these two.

Yamaguchi works at a boba place to cover his loans. The first-year squad comes over often to study and hang out with him (really though they tease/play around with him). He is a STAR employee, having been there most of his 4 years and is employee of the month frequently. Knows the regulars’ orders by heart and is doted on the little old lady who comes in with her dog every Sunday morning.

He LOVES all the good food. He knows all the low key, hole-in-the-wall places that DELIVER on food. His favorite food is teriyaki chicken. It’s basic but also HAS to be quality chicken and chicken.

When Yamaguchi wants to cry from the stress of doing SOOOOOO MUCH (school, job, research assistant, and psychology club), he goes to the psychology building because it’s colder and has fewer people. He discovered a spot there that no one ever goes to and cries there. 

He actually found his mentor/ researcher boss who was a psychology professor and researcher who saw him one day and asked if he was okay.

He joins the psychology club and gets so involved!! He does the mentor/mentee program and because he loves helping people so much, he ends up having so many mentees and even adopting a few who get abandoned

Even though he’s already busy, he actually becomes secretary this 2nd year, VP 3rd year, and then president his last year!

Yamaguchi does NOT do coffee, but he loves tea and anything relating to tea. His favorite boba flavor is matcha green tea. 

Because of this, he becomes obsessed with matcha in general and will get matcha flavored anything

Yamaguchi and Tsukki are roomies (duh). People don’t get why they live together with their opposite personalities, but they eventually see why 

Yamaguchi first semester grades: 

- Psychology of Personality: A+ - The Coming of Individuality (mandatory freshman course): A- - Social Psychology: A+ - Introduction to Statistics 1: B- - Introduction to Finance: B

Has always been a good student and works hard for his grades but his first semester grades suffer a little(freaks out about his B’s) because of all the stuff he has on his plate, however, he learns to handle it better and understands that a B is still okay!! 

YACHI HITOKA

Graphic Design Major

Binge-buys Shein and YesStyle Clothes the first week

This QUEEN has taken every self defense lesson she could get her hands on and bought herself pepper spray as well. Even though the boys felt they were fine, she gave them pepper spray to put in their bags(practically shoved it in their bags because she wants them to be safe too)

She gets a lot of compliments for her cat keychain from others, but none of them really know that the keychain can be used for self defense and Yachi bought it because it was cute and effective. 

Her campus has a building for all of the student life and activities and there’s a small bowling alley. Lemme tell you, she’s a serious bowler; like her scores are always in the triple digits. She goes every Wednesday religiously all four years (except during midterms and finals week) because it’s half priced.

OFC she joins the bowling club and competes throughout her college years. Y’all already know she’s winning the medals. 

THE QUEEN OF SAVING MONEY AND COUPONING!! She will always snag the free, semesterly coupon book in the plaza when they give them out. She ends up grabbing 4 (2 for her and 2 for her roommate)

Yachi LOVES sweets so when she’s feeling stressed, she usually eats sweet things or cries and if she’s REALLY stressed she’ll do both. Her best friends are her tears, a tub of chocolate ice cream, and videos of animals(cats, dogs, pandas mostly but cats are her fav mostly) plus tiny food cooking to make her feel better.

In clubs that she joins, she often becomes the multimedia chair and everyone loves her designs and ideas!! 

She interns during her 3rd year as a local business where they use her design as the new logo for the company!! Because of how well the design was, she ends up catching the eye of a major company (one she’s been looking at for a while) and they offer her a job after graduation!!

The boys are super proud of her and surprise her with a congratulations party for her success!! The boys are tearing up at how much Yachi has grown as a person(imagine Kiyoko when she presented Karasuno with the team flag and all the second and third year boys CRIED. That’s what happens basically) 

Yachi’s first semester grades: 

- The Coming of Individuality (mandatory freshman course): A+ - Perceptual drawing: A+ - Typography: A+ - Principles of Art History 1:B+ - Introduction to Statistics: A+ 

Yachi is SMART and has great grades, but her anxiety affects her when she’s dealing with big projects for her classes. She eventually gets better every semester and learns to manage her anxiety when it comes to big assignments! Bottom line, she evolves to be a BOSS. 

FIRST YEARS’ SHENANIGANS (FIRST YEARS)

Coming of Individuality: freshman required course

- Hinata, Yachi, and Yamaguchi agree to be in the same class Hinata convinces Kageyama to take the course with him

- Yamaguchi asks Tsukki to take the course with him and Yachi, which he agrees, but Tsukki doesn’t know that Hinata and Kageyama are also there

Plants Drops!

- Every 3rd Thursday of the month, the gardening club has a plant drop where they give out plants for free in their campus’ plaza

- So, Yachi and Yamaguchi are the first ones to find out about it, and end up dragging the other 3 to go with them

- Tsukki thought he would hate it but he got this little cactus that he’s kept alive all four years and brings it with him when he graduates into his new apartment - Hinata tries to keep the plants alive but ends up forgetting about them so he has to opt for cacti only; though, he does end up keeping one plant alive for the rest of the semester but forgets about it when he goes home and leaves it in the dorm - Kageyama ends up keeping two plants alive, both little ferns, and names them banana and strawberry (his favorite milks) They still go every 3rd Thursday even if they have plants because it gives them an opportunity to see each other if they have been busy

Yamaguchi and Tsukki’s place

- The undisputed hangout place for the first year squad (Tsukki worries that Kags and Hinata will break something every time they come over) since it is so close to campus.  - They often come over in between classes to chill and eat their food in peace while watching Netflix or playing Mario Kart or Super Smash together.

MANDATED (Tsukki didn’t want this but the others wanted this to happen) first-year lunch hangout

- Every Friday at exactly 11:15am, the first-year squad would eat lunch together at a local food stand on their campus called Tikis to catch up for the week.  - They chose Friday because they tried all the other days and decided collectively that Fridays were the best.  - The food stand usually sells a variety of food (usually soul food) and switch it up every week but it has some of the BEST food on campus (& even the city) - Without a doubt, the first-year squad ALWAYS make sure to leave space for their mandated Tikis lunch when doing their schedules every semester. No excuses. 

[tazzykiki]

I’m tired, angry and bored so here we go! A messy list of fucked up Public School Things that may or may not be a universal experience:

The Lunches were a mix of good and horrible:

I was usually fine with the lunches because they were pretty decent and, like, yay food! But looking back they were just, so wrong????

Like in my middle school lunches AND breakfast were a mess. I got food poisoning like once or twice from the breakfast and the lunch was pitiful. At one point they just stopped cooking the pasta and left a bunch of uncooked, powdery noodles in a plastic box like anyone was gonna grab them and be like “mm yes! my favorite! hard noodles!”. Like what the actual fuck.

The pizza was also in a box, none of the toppings were labeled so it was a gamble on what type you would get, and most of the time they were burnt. In HS the pizza was fine but it tasted fake as hell and I’m pretty sure they just took some rubber and put cheese on it.  

My HS lunches were better but even then it was just, really concerning how limited and odd the food was. Luckily we didn’t have to pay except for like cookies and stuff smaller than your hand that costs like $2 cuz they want to “promote healthiness” despite feeding us what is basically prison food.

The class sizes were horrifying: I’m sorry but what person can teach 30+ rowdy kids and be perfectly fine??? Not to mention this was the norm the whole day! Imagine grading all those papers, keeping track of every student, and making sure they all shut up long enough to teach. And that’s just for the teachers who actually care.

Like a class size should be a max of 20 with a few exceptions. Do you know how stressful it is for everyone involved? Not to mention, 30 kids was considered SMALL!! Some classes had 40, even 50 STUDENTS!!!! WHAT THE FUCK.

We never had enough books, or supplies, or anything. Usually by the half point of the year, half the books would be missing or destroyed and it was a mess. In HS the Drama and Music teachers had to deal with like, one class of 10-20, and then like 5 classes of 40-50(all mixed grades too). And you know what’s even more fucked up? There was only one of each teacher.

There was one drama teacher. Who btw deserves the world and legit cares about her job and students. I honestly hope she quit and went somewhere better. She had to put up with 40+ screaming kids, grade all of those assignments, deal with insult and harassment(she was plus-sized and white. So she couldn’t talk back, would get insulted, and more.The only white people allowed to be sassy in that school were funny white men that were laid back), and had barely enough supplies to get by.

There was one music teacher. Who also deserves the world and legit cares about her job and students. She had to deal with 40-50, almost 60+, kids. The majority of them being sophomores and freshman, with bits of seniors and juniors. She taught music, taught band, and organized events and performances. She is, I believe, the first and only music teacher in that school and that’s just so fucked up. Like imagine being one person and having to manage hundreds of students like that.

There was only one digital arts teacher but I have no idea what they did since you can’t choose what class you attend. I just know it was constantly crowded, never really applauded, and they weren’t involved in a lot of things.

Oh yes how could I forget the art teacher! Yeah no there was no art class that involved drawing and painting. Apparently that class was scrapped years ago and has now turned into a JROTC locker! :D Speaking of JROTC:

JROTC and Sports had too much support and that’s a serious problem:

Hey maybe it’s because I’m an art kid and I hate exercising(because every attempt to do so was met with laughter, humiliation, and the ridicule of my body even though I can’t control how my body grows and changes), but man did JROTC and sports(specifically football) have way too much attention.

We had not one, not two, but FOUR ENTIRE JROTC CLASSES! Classes training you to be in the military, specifically Air Force. Classes you HAD to take unless you wanted to be in gym(never had the class but from what I’ve heard, there were about 50-70 kids, mostly male, filling up that class and they didn’t do anything but play ball or whatever. All of course, taught by one guy).

Somehow this program had enough support for uniforms, 4 different classrooms, supplies, several teachers(all of whom were in the military at one point[they were chill except for the freshman teacher who called you a whiny baby for being in pain]), and more. 

Not to mention, every so often military people would come by with pretty pamphlets and fun little strength tests and have kids to sign up to newsletters and shit and ask them to join the military when they graduate so they can get free college and happy fun times!! :D

Football was given way too much attention, even over the other sports, and I absolutely hate it. Every month was about  football, football, football. So much money went into football, so much support went into football. Yeah yeah yeah follow your dreams or whatever the fuck they tell you on Disney Channel, but there was too much support on this one sport that involved kids breaking their heads open. 

Please please give me ONE valid reason why this irritating-ass sport had so much attention while art students, craft students, theater students, music students, students who want to work in literally any other field that doesn’t involve science or sports had to fucking scrape every tiny little chance they could from the crumbs that were left behind. PLEASE tell me why I had to join a completely different program that was hella exclusive and restricted to Juniors and Seniors that had a certain skill-level just to have a proper arts class while football players got a cool fancy bus, a shit ton of gear, and praise every single day(seriously their pictures and trophies were everywhere). 

Why is it that they get scholarships and full rides for throwing a ball around and bashing their brains open while I had to fucking destroy my hand and scramble around for some shit like $200 which I wouldn’t even get because I don’t have the skill to paint the mona lisa or whatever. Anywayyyy~

Hey what the fuck was up with the rules? Sorry kids but if you’re reading this, everything they tell you on tv about high school is a lie. Unless you watched the Dora the Explorer movie, then that was actually pretty accurate.

Hey is it weird we had metal detectors and legit police officers(who were armed) in our school? Is it weird that we had to wear plastic, see-through book-bags, that weren’t even given to us for free and were so weak that they had to get rid of that rule because they would break after like 2 months? Is it weird we were all stuffed into a nasty, sticky, pest-ridden, staircase right in front of the main doors in the morning because we weren’t allowed all the way inside for whatever reason unless it was for a club(i.e. sports)? Is it weird that we were all trapped in the lunch room by security guards because they didn’t want kids roaming the halls even though they already did? Is it weird we weren’t allowed to go to the bathroom and were always told “you should’ve went your last class” when your last class didn’t let you? Is it weird we weren’t allowed to use the bathroom and were always told that “you should’ve went during the transition time” even though the transition time was only 4 minutes and the hallways were so crowded that it’d be time for class by the time you’d get there?

Is it weird that when we were allowed to use the bathroom, all of the bathrooms were locked and only one on the other side of the school was open, and the majority of the stalls were broken? And they kept the bathrooms locked, even after school, because they didn’t want kids skipping class even though they still did?

Is it weird that if you didn’t have a belt(if you were male), or a part of your uniform, you would be prevented from going to class if there were no more temporary uniforms?

Is it weird that if one kid did something bad, the entire class would be punished and class time would be wasted and the point of punishment would be lost because the teacher wanted a taste of power or whatever?(hey one time in 8th grade, both classes had to stand in one long ass line for about half an hour because someone was talking and it was treated like it was a joke. this took up our breakfast time too)

Other Shit: One time my HS got like $20,000 and instead of using it to fix at least one thing, they wasted it on useless flatscreen tv’s and SAT “tutors” that taught us 3rd grade english & math, how to annotate(I swear to fucking god one more person try and teach me how to underline a motherfucking sentence---) and did absolutely nothing to help us. Meanwhile the football players were living like kings.

We had a strange assortment of teachers, ya’ll know about my junior and senior english teacher. But did I ever tell you about the freshman JROTC instructor? She was so much fun~ I remember one time!!! ooh this is a good one :DDDD!!!! that I was in so muuuuuch pain that I was crying and couldn’t move! and guess what!!!!???? ooh! ooh! guess! She called me a whiny baby and said I was overreacting!!!! omg? She was so right tho, I was totally overreacting to being in immense, insufferable, pain that no one even attempted to be concerned about~~ 

Oh here’s another good one: I used to cry a lot! It was horribly embarrassing and not fun~ I was either sick, on my period(which according to the multiple doctors I had to be rushed to, was normal and the intense pain was hereditary), or having an emotional breakdown~ This lasted from 5th grade to Senior Year of HS! :D

One time I was in a lot of pain, 7th grade I believe, and cried for a whole hour straight. What did my teacher do? Have me sit in class while everyone went to like social studies or whatever, talked with some teachers, and then complained about how I “cried and cried and cried for an hour straight” with no concern whatsoever. BTW the nurse was never there and even then she was kinda useless.

Don’t even get me started on the several times I was on my period and was actually screaming in pain and was still looked down on because a student screaming and hollering in pain is no cause for concern obviously~ Really surprising how a lot of the male teachers and staff were more concerned then the female ones, especially the science teacher who has a uterus, has multiple daughters, and the audacity to say I’m ~overreacting~. I’m so happy our teachers and schools have our priorities in order.

Note: If you’re horrified by this. Good. You should be.

More misc things: My HS had a shit ton of roaches, water bugs, and whatever those long disgusting things that walk around on the walls and fall off once you see them. Art meant nothing to them. Teacher sanity meant nothing, student sanity meant nothing. The principal was great and I blame whoever’s “funding” schools and working behind the scenes.  I know this was more about personal stuff, but like a lot of things like large classes, lack of supplies, lack of empathy from teachers, constant pests, horrible food, stupid rules that hurt us more than helped, really weird exposure to cops and military, and too much focus on one subject is super common in public schools and I really really want it to stop.

[onisiondrama]

“Onision: Proven Honest/Innocent & No One Cares” Part 1

Speaks 4/14/19

This is my reaction to his recent video about Shiloh. Idk how many parts this will be or when I’ll be able to finish it.

The first thing I want to point out is he is trying to convince his audience that every criticism he’s gotten over the years about his relationship with Shiloh is now null because he was telling the truth all along. This video disproves nothing. Everyone knows Shiloh lied about a lot of shit and did fucked up shit during their relationship. That does not mean no one is allowed to criticize him for the fucked up things he did during the relationship.

The second thing I want to point out is he acts like his relationship with Shiloh was the root cause of ALL the criticism/hate he receives online because everyone believed Shiloh’s lies. This is 100% not true. Most people (fans and antis) really, really hated Shiloh at the end of their relationship and for years after they broke up. When they broke up, not very many people took Shiloh’s side. The majority (fans mainly) took Greg’s side and the rest thought they were both shit. Her supporters were virtually non-existent as far as I remember. She ended up deleting her Youtube channels and social media. The comments on her music videos were walls of criticism and hate for years after their break up. It really wasn’t until years later the internet softened up to her, mainly for two reasons. One: Greg continued to obsessively talk about her online for years (case in point: this video), while Shiloh publicly talked about him maybe a handful of times. When she appeared in a Q&A video with her friend she refused to say anything negative about him. It seemed like Shiloh moved on and matured while Greg continued to want to destroy her reputation and maintain some control over her. Two: Billie. The parallels between Billie’s relationship with Greg and Shiloh’s are undeniable. I noticed after his final break up with Billie, many people’s perception of Shiloh changed and the comments on videos about her and her music videos drastically changed. Like before, everyone either took her stories about Greg with a grain of salt or straight up ignored them because she was caught lying so much, but since Billie had a similar story about Greg demanding she shave her head as Shiloh, people started to think maybe she wasn’t lying about everything and maybe she wasn’t as crazy as Greg made her out to be after all.

Ok so the first part of the video he talks to a woman who claims she dated Shiloh while Shiloh was simultaneously with (on and off) Greg and Shiloh’s baby daddy. Supposedly Greg and this woman talked long ago, but Greg didn’t remember who she was. They got into contact again because he mass twitter followed all of his gmail contacts in January. I think it’s weird we’ve never heard about this woman before and Greg somehow managed to keep her a secret (before he “forgot” about her) for all these years since he’s usually quick to use information like this to make people look bad in videos. He’s mentioned countless times Shiloh cheated on him with her baby daddy, but would it have not been beneficial for him to mention she cheated on him with two people?

One of the first thing this woman tells Greg is Shiloh lied about her daughter’s death. It wasn’t a lie. There were a bunch of anti-os who hated Shiloh that continued to follow her and her life after Greg. Some befriended her baby daddy to get dirt on her and they confirmed the baby passed away.

When it comes to Shiloh, I don’t know why Greg (imo) wrecks his credibility by taking the word of random people from the internet as fact to use against her. This woman supposedly was cheated on by Shiloh, broke up with Shiloh because Shiloh got pregnant, stayed close enough to Shiloh months later that Shiloh told her about her daughter’s death, then somehow confirmed Shiloh lied about the death?? Ok look, first of all, how the fuck does someone get away with faking a baby’s death? It doesn’t make any sense. Shiloh has a family, the baby daddy has a family, don’t you think someone would realize the baby was still alive? Where is her daughter now if she lied? This wasn’t an internet hoax. It was real. I remember the the baby daddy announcing the death online. They weren’t together when it happened. He had no reason to lie for her.

Greg goes through some of the stuff we’ve all heard already. Claiming Shiloh threatened to kill herself and make it look like he did it, she told him she has a split personality, blah blah blah. “But you all said I’m lying” - he’s trying to make it seem like this random woman from the internet proved all of his stories about Shiloh true. These are all still unproven claims from Greg as far as I’m concerned, just as the stories Shiloh told about Greg are also unproven claims. That’s how it works. You don’t just get to tell a potentially reputation damaging story about someone with no proof and everyone just believes you because you keep mentioning how “honest” you are. Also, I don’t see how what this woman said proves any of those stories true. I guess to him he’s proving Shiloh was a liar? But we all already knew that.

He continues with DM’s from the woman. She says she found out she was being cheated on because of one of Greg’s videos. 

He says everyone made blogs and memes about how evil he was because we all wanted to believe Shiloh. Again, this isn’t true. most antis took neither side and used their platforms to criticize Shiloh just as much as they criticized Greg. He says people wanted what Shiloh said to be true because he had opinions about people we liked and he’s not allowed to have opinions. Wow. I guess it wasn’t the uploading her mental breakdowns to Youtube, or the fact that he left his 5 year marriage to peruse a 17 year old, or that he creepily traveled to a state Shiloh just happened to be to have sex with her legally, or shitting on her for 8 years. Hm wow I guess it wasn’t his own actions that lead to people criticizing his role in the relationship. It was his gosh darn controversial opinions. Wow honesty is such a burden. Poor Greg.

He tells more stories we already know to prove being in a relationship with her was horrible. memory loss, seizures, fire department bringing her back home after she passed out on the sidewalk, calling the cops on her. “You internet folks conclude that she’s actually the rational sane one despite how obvious that is not the fact.” Lmao. Greg no one thinks Shiloh was rational or sane during your relationship. Even most of her die hard supporters admit she went crazy, they blame Greg for causing it.

“I don’t know how you could lie about a baby dying, but she did it apparently.”

He’s so desperate for shit to use against Shiloh he’s using shit from unconfirmed sources and hiding behind “apparently”. Like if he truly believed Shiloh lied about her daughter’s death, don’t you think he could get into contact with someone that could prove her daughter is still alive? That would make a heck of a video. Even if he’s too lazy to do that does he not think it’s weird Shiloh supposedly got away with convincing the internet her child was dead for 7 years?? He won’t look into it because he knows it might not be true and he knows if he repeats it a few times in a video his fans would believe him anyway.

The woman in the DM lists stealing as one of Shiloh’s toxic traits. Greg says he never saw Shiloh steal anything and he would have mentioned it to us. I feel like I should point of a majority of his fan base mix up Shiloh and Skye. he accused Skye of stealing his belongings and his money through alimony, but you’ll see a lot of bananas who bash Shiloh say she stole from Greg.

[icharchivist]

 i’ve got a spiral down about my past and needed to throw it all out somewhere sorry about that, scroll past

under cut cw: self harm mentions, suicide idealization mentions, the usual deal from my parents, abandon issues and even slight bigotery discussion that has nothing interesting to say, just me being upset at my parents, so please just scroll past. 

Honestly i act as cheerful as possible lately and to be honest, i truly am happier than i had been in a long while - my current hyperfixation helping a lot and i think it also helps me process some things that I need to process as of now, especially the whole “living in the present, moving forward and try not to think too much of the past” angle that i obsess about lately -

but there’s not a single day that passes where i’m not angry at my family, that i’m not frustrated, that i don’t want to scream. I look back at my past and want to destroy it all, throw it all out, hating every single minute of it. 

And it’s while it’s better now that my (ex)stepdad left for good (I still have the 6 fucking years of trauma he left me with to deal with though) and that my mom is barely there bc she’s happily living with her bf right now (and even there this bad, bitter part of me is just BITTER that she can just move on and be happy as if i hadn’t been miserable due to her decisions in that whole time) - there is still the case of the fact that there’s this trial against my dad that is bringing back sour memories because my dad just... come to shake things bc he sucks. 

And meanwhile i’m happy i don’t have the weigh to bother with my mom but like?? that adds to all the times i’ve felt neglected, abandonned, left behind. And she will be /happily/ doing so and i must be happy bc she’s happy. 

All those problems i have to still process the consequences to shouldn’t even have been problems to start with. There is no reason any of it is fair, any of it is worth it. 

And like everytime i look back i just see how miserable it made me and how i still pay those decisions to this day: hell right now my hands hurt like crazy and GEEZ. bc what is handicaping my hand? a sickness that started due to high dose of stress my parents put me under AND neglect bc my mom argued for months i didn’t need to see a doctor and we didn’t have the means for it, leading to me contracting a deadly disease that will ALWAYS remain in my blood and always show up again when i’m having some pick of stresses and that still forbid me to do things to that day.

And like... everytime i start to be in pain i get frustrated because those problems, i’ve learnt to deal with them and i especially learnt to shut the fuck up about it. Because even if those are things that could kill me, it’s always things that do it /slowly/ so my parents don’t care?? they just tell me to stop complaining and move on? Like i almost had a ulcer and since then can’t eat some stuff anymore but does that stop my mom from just cooking it and joking that “she too is in pain eating them”? 

And i’m frustrated because I compare to my sister who had also been deadly sick, but those deadly got very quick and concerning very fast so my mom at least always overprotected her - and that’s good and fine, i’m glad my sister got the support she needed, but in the meantime when I got my deadly sickness i was just told to suck it up and that we couldn’t see a doctor because see it’s slow so it’s not important? 

And there’s not a day without those thoughts to come back to me. And it frustrates me, it makes me want to yell. 

And like. Like. My mental health had been SO BAD for ALL THOSE YEARS and all i’ve ever heard was my mom in denial shutting me off everytime i tried to bring it up because “no no because it’d mean you’re crazy and you can’t be crazy” mom i’m telling you i want to kill myself pay fucking attention, or worse, my dad who used my confession to my mom about self harm (that my mom welcomed with fucking “I have more important things to deal with” before snitching to my dad that it was his fault while i didn’t want to tell my dad) tO PUT IT IN COURT and tlel the judge that my mental unstability “caused by my mom” was why he shouldn’t give me allowance and lol i was 15??? And that led my dad to make suicide jokes at my expense to total strangers as i grew up???

And then 4 years ago  when i cut ties with my dad he started to send threats telling me he was going to send doctors from the mental institude against us because we were “dangerous to society because we’re mentally unstable” for thinking he should pay the fucking allowance, and he’s threatening this very thing again now??? 

Meanwhile like even my mom told me that perhaps i should keep low my attempts at therapy because my dad might use it against me and like?? like??? in what fucking world. 

And I think back to those once in a while, those thoughts sneak back into my mind and i’m angry, i’m so angry, i’m so so angry at this past. I want to tear it off i want to remove it I just don’t want it. I am tired of staying up at night reviewing my trauma because my brain finds it funny to remind me that everything went downhill and i’m trying to fix what people had destroyed around me and i wonder why i even bother it’s not like i knew how it was when it wasn’t broken and i don’t see why i have to put this much effort into all of this that shouldn’t have happened to start with. 

and I can see random things and it sets off the spiral down, anything that is a cute tongue and cheek thing about your past can make me remember stupid things that happened and then it’s over for the few hours that follow because i need to review AAAALL of that trauma, including things i have no reason to remember about like my fucking ex. 

And it happens over and over and over again.

I’ve ended up having a rather weird spiral down rn bc when my brain keeps me awake at night i try to focus on learning Japanese so i still stimulate my brain and distract myself from mental breakdown, but it comes with its lots of trauma, like the fact my mom had always been pretty bigoted toward this culture and had always made me feel bad for being curious about it, that i’ve wanted to study it for ever but my mom always killed it in some way or another, that i was made ridicule for it, and hell so did my Dad, he was no better he was just less virulant than her and just more humiliating. My mom was shutting me off and my dad was humiliating me, they made such a goddamn duo (and anyway from the letters i’ve found back from my sister running away that was already their combo kill before, lmao, and they still do that while divorced ofc).

And I was thinking what would be THE event in my life i could change that would have saved me all that trouble? And i think, if my grandmother took me with her when she took my sister away from my family. If i grew up with them what would have happened? 

And I was thinking, geez my mom always told me they were horrible people and i mean the apple can’t have fallen so far from the tree right? Like, how is there any garentee it could have been better except for the fact my sister got a happy life there.

and from all the things I could remember i remembered that they moved away back to the island my mother grew up to that is nearby Japan (which was my mom’s justification for being bigoted), and that for a couple of months when i was 14 where my mom managed to get in contact back with her mother (not allowed to talk back to my sister though and that’s when things turned sour but that’s a whole other can of worms), and for that slight time my grandmother actually talked back to me and was the most encouraging person from my whole family, and she had patrons from Japan so since she knew i was interested she sent me goodies she could find, like a traditional fan i still have, and she was even talking about how my mom and I could move in with them, and that i’d study there and study the language and all and it was already more support than i’ve ever had before which i’ve never realized until now and i started to cry in the kitchen out of nowhere (probably not helping i was making onigiri so it’s the mood i guess)

and like all of this was a lie since a few weeks later she told my mom last minute that we weren’t allowed to approach them anymore since my sister didn’t want to see her anymore (DUH that’s why she ran away) so we had to change our plans last minute and we lost contact and i’ve lost pretty much all interests i had at the time because now i associated it to a sour memory, and i suppose that’s part of the reasons why i hadn’t considered studying Japanese again until pretty recently (that and the fact my mom still found bigoted boyfriends who belittled me for that as well but hey when the shoe fits i guess)

 and i guess this whole spiral down i was thinking, i was told all my life they were horrible people and I don’t know them enough to have judged them, yet in a couple of months i was in contact with them they had shown more support to me than my family ever did. 

And it just... guh.

I feel like ever since i’ve read my sister’s file and that every affection i still had for my family broke, everyday is just a flood of remembering memories i’ve repressed of slight neglects here and there, or things i’ve been in denial about because it couldn’t have been that bad right? 

And I feel like.. the more now i’m trying to be in a better place mentally, and to sieze things I want, the more i remember why i wasn’t doing those to begin with and it’s not just my mental health being bad because of my parents, it was the whole package the problem, i have this sort of trauma on every aspect of my life, there’s not a single thing i can think back without taking it in the lense of feeling betrayed by my family in some regards. 

And hell even to some extend i feel so, so upset that those bounds with my families are things I want to throw out to start with, because I value the principle of legacy, but my family never did and I think back about the fact my parents come from very different and vast cultures that has nothing to do with France (my father is southern italian, my mother is of jewish descendant (as in she herself considers herself atheist and she never passed it down but she was raised in the faith) with her family branches from Algeria and she grew up in tropical islands surrounded by their cultures) and that they always, always specifically made sure i never knew about it until very late, shutting me off of it and then being mad that i don’t know stuff from my father’s side or mad that I get curious about others things in general. 

and i feel misplaced, i feel like this odd number that never got the attention of my parents, that didn’t inherit anything and perhaps it’s better this way, but i’ve been envious all my life of this concept and now i keep thinking and thinking and thinking about what the hell went wrong and there’s nothing in my control, just trying to break the paterns over and over again. (and all of this not helped by the fact it was the same as school for similar reasons, so the problem always felt like a me thing, it takes forever to try to heal from it)

All while also i was the one who took care of all of them, ALL of them, of my mother’s trauma, of my father’s abuse, of my sister projecting her abandons issues on me and my eldest that left such a ghost in our life i have no memory of despite this weigh, all while dealing with life’s problems, school, bullying, my fucking ex, and I had to think about it, i had to take a lot of responsabilities very young to stop my mother from collapsing and to try to stop my father from hurting us, and it comes back, it comes back that i should have never taken this burden to start with, and that all this burden i’ve taken is for a family who had never connected with me, never tried to and always making me feel bad for doing so, and the people i’ve villified all my life as a coping mechanism ends up making me feel a sort of homesickness i don’t even know how to express because i don’t know what it is to have a home that doesn’t hurt and no place of escape was ever actually safe.

And i want to move on, i want to move past that, i’m tired to deal with those ghosts all over and over again, it should never have happened to start with. I am so frustrated of those battles i should never have had to pick, of this responsability i’ve taken, and now between my mom just going on living her life happy go lucky leaving me to fend on my own as if she hadn’t destroyed my life and my father who keeps arguing of how much of a terrible person i am for just asking for the rightfull help my parents owe me, all while also my father keep making me feel guilty about the disconnect i have with my family, about how i’ve cut ties with everyone, that i neglect this heritage i have, so much that the timing leaps over the things i want to focus on now and i grow bitter and bitter and there’s nothing my parents aren’t always poisoning in some way or another. 

I’ve been told all my life to not mimick my eldest, hearing humiliating things about her with the constant threat of “dont be like her” and now i yearn for having understood her back then and having done like her sooner instead of trying all my life to do the extra miles to not hurt my parents again the way she hurt them, while she was right, she was right all along and i’ve villified her all my damn life while she was right and i should have done the same far earlier if i hadn’t been made to feel guilty about having this clear exemple of a way out in front of me.

And i’m tired and i’m tired and i want out i hate this life i hate every single things that brought me to that past and i have no idea what i’m doing with my life nor why i even bother trying to keep walking but i sure as hell need to at least fucking try, if only because i can’t them let win it, if only by spite of wanting to finally cut it all out and them having to live with the fact they’ve destroyed everything they ever touched. 

So the spiral downs and freakout that keep me awake lately are super fun and i fucking love that i just had a breakdown in the kitchen because I just thought about how i was given my eldest sister’s room when she left home and all the things that then followed from me never feeling at home anywhere ever, and that just a single thought about a material thing from my past suddenly brings an avalanche of bad things to remind me of all that repressed memory i refuse to acknowledge.

Im having so much fun on this tuesday night, peace out i’m tired, i’ll blast some music again now.

[romy350-romyakari]

i’m gonna leave this to any of your judgment since maybe some pressure can help my head at this moment

I really have a hard time doing stuff I know I am not good at because there is this uncomfortable feeling I know it is not going the best I could if I could just bear with doing it because maybe I am okey, I usually do some of my homework because I is required but it is never the best unless I am really exited about something i can do it on my way, bit of generalist is all they teach me so there is stuff I love to do and stuff I don’t have a clue what I am doing but i need something to present so I have to drag myself to do so.

I can plan it out, break it into pieces so is easier but if I don’t like to or know I won’t manage to get it that well it really became hard to deal with.

So I include to my pressure to get more productive this last months with lots of reminder that I can’t do anything I like unless I am done with my stuff, it has been hard but most of the time I keep myself from opening anything I like though I cans say I fail a little sometimes, but some improvement was made even though it was draining at the end.

The result of this has been somewhat good but how long it still took me to start well or have a good phase working is debatable to say the least but at least I feel nobody could say I was not trying enough or slacking since I was really trying to get myself together for sake of my grades and the effort my parents were putting and support I was given.

That was before I remember I was diagnosticated with ADHD over 13 years ago and I just forgot sine at some point my parents just decide to treat me like a normal child and my memory has always been this awful so yeah i could not have remember except when a few words trigger some memories.

Some stuff became clear and old habit that my parents teach me does make sense now. it has been a 360° experience so far now been aware of it.

I have always have some point that I though it was just me been weak, clumsy and dumb but now some of my weird ways to be had some explanation.

Now more of what is going on right now, I have been assigned with some task I am really dragging myself to do but they are super important to get done, I had manage to get stuff give to my “superiors”, they are my classmates but of the shortfilm on the go they have responsibility to give us task so we can complete the shortfilm the class is working to graduate, it will sustain the group thesis to get out title at the end of the year and so.

This is important so I have really telling myself to not screw up, not this time.

First month I was trying to get the task done was presentation and feedback, I got last minute send the stuff somehow in many cases, but they decides to request something more complex I have no idea about this last weeks, I had to figure it out and break it in so many pieces, there was a way and so I try

it was a mess and yeah I feel I was close to got nuts on it. anyways they say still needs corrections and even though it sounds easy... It was a mess on my head all the time and for them to ask corrections and still need to apply the same to another one I was assigned , it is really bad....

at that point I can say I start to freak out, thanks anxiety, and also got some emotional breakdowns since I has been hard to keep my mind on track. I was tired, mentally and physically, use my time before sleep or my hours of sleep to get my mind to do more than get stuck, I made mistakes and so but still I got so little done that it was terrible...

It has been almost 2 weeks and really the thing had not improve, I have not touch any stuff I enjoy in months and I feel like I am losing it, I break down on some emotional and even at work I can’t get focus is really frustrating.

I feel like scream but when I am about to I stop because it will worry people and is simply hear my anxiety stop me like a big hit, I have been crying more often on the bathroom to avoid looks of others, but a smile on me and try to keep “fine”.

I have so little control left but if I keep on it is because anxiety help on keep acting because the moment they all start thinking I am acting all this and not tiring to be responsible or behave it will may be harder or they think I am nuts which may not be wrong but I am so tired I don’t want any of that. I want to get this right.

One of my grandfather is close to death any time early next year or so, he is bad, really really bad. He hope I get to graduate and I want so too so I can try what I have been kind of hoping to try, my parents have give so much I can’t let my mind break down just yet

Have to keep a bit more but my impulsiveness has got me to start and cut all that relax me thanks to anxiety it keep driving me to keep on autopilot but I have cry so much, I have feel like my chest has been about to explode of all this emotions jumping everywhere, my mind just lost trying so hard to focus but more worried and jumping, all is so mess up.

I don’t know any more maybe is me and I am just such a failure, but i don’t know how to get hold of myself, less I want is been trouble for the ones I love like my family and friends but idk what else to do...

[recalibr8]

The mEtOHd in my madness

I’d been out with my teen lads on a Friday. We got off the train and there was a young, crumpled woman sat on the platform, fat tears splashing into a puddle of sick on her trench coated lap. I offered her some tissues; I’m a mum, it come with the membership card. After a few sorries she asked “where did you stop?”. It took us a while to realise she meant, ‘where are we?’ She was out by 2 stations which on the face of it wasn’t bad. We pointed her onto the next train, gave her a mint (gold membership benefits) and my youngest shouted “take care of yourself” as we trudged up the platform. We agreed it was probably work drinks getting out of bounds and she’d be ok now she had tissues. But I kept thinking, “where did you stop?”. Where did I stop? Because I’m now AF af.

AF af. That’s alcohol free and doing pretty darn ruddy brilliant. Three months ago I upgraded my BrewDog to NannyState, went Becks Blue and am thinking in an offhand way about brewing Kombucha. I’ve teamed this up with going plasticlite, veganish and kimchi curious. So far, so middle class virtual signalling. But where did I stop?

I’ve been drinking since I was 5. I’d adorably finish up the beer in my parents’ guests glasses and well, kept going. Not in a Drew, Carrie or Liza rehab by 13 sense but I think I’ve probably had my fair share. I’m well aware that I knew, know and don’t know but suspect people who I love who have significant alcohol use problems and this is blog is in no way trying to say my needs are greater than theirs. I know a lot of highly creative endeavours and friendships were found in a gin bottle but also unforgivable abuses. And I know friends whose acts are based around the camaraderie of drinking. And I’d never tell anyone what they *should* do. But like all ex anybodies, I’m annoying about my sobriety journey right now. Bear with me.

But it’s not just me though. I see booze everywhere. For a dose related lethal toxin that’s very effective marketing. There’s a giant ad on Toots Broadway station entreating me to Go Bottomless and every other Facebook ad is for a spirit that promises to make evenings round the back of Catford Lidl magical. And many of these are aimed at women. A recent industry survey found ‘only’ 17% of women drank beer and this needed sorting out. Look out for more lady drinking adverts, they’re coming.

But I wasn’t alcoholic. Was I? Are you? You’re only an alcoholic if you have one more drink than you doctor. I’m

a doctor ... so let’s take a look.

*I’m really low on the alcoholic check list*

I’ve never drank alcohol in the morning, blacked out, been told by others I have a problem, had to apologise...

Ah, I have had to apologise once or twice. Nothing major, just ‘sorry, I was a bit wobbly/silly/rude/loud/insulting/gave you my shoes as a gift’. I once lost my credit and oyster card at the bar of a immersive theatre event though. I don’t know how I got home. I had to find the site manager the next day and he definitely had other things to do. Not long after my bag was stolen in SoHo because I was distracted. Not sure how I got home then either. Friends put me in an Uber after my MA showcase because I wasn’t walking very straight. Or being very nice. So I definitely remember getting home then.

These were all Thursdays or weekends. I’ve always been careful not to have any chance of affecting my work. But yeah, how clear headed was I for my family, myself? And much of this was stress drinking after a week of being a clever doctor. Just loosened up the joints a bit. Particularly if your slightly socially awkward. But I wasn’t a drunk, no. Maybe just a binge drinker. And that’s ok, isn’t it?

*Hangovers are just a thing*.

With only drinking at the end of the week, I was careful not to be hungover at work. But I had a Friday at home hangover where I didn’t get out of bed for the day. I claimed I’d been poisoned. I’d just had one too many Jaegerbombs. I vomited in the taxi. I’ve vomited in several taxis. That’s not a good look at any age. Hangovers are a funny meme, a cartoon of a dog in sunglasses, office banter. It’s your liver crying and your brain folding it’s arms in judgment. It’s not bad wine, it’s bad choices.

*Get kids used to drinking. Like the French. Then they won’t binge*.

My 13 year old buys old vodka bottles from charity shops. Wearing a furry hat, his comedy drunk Russian is not bad I used to have the deepest voice of my friends at 14 so it was my job to buy the booze for house parties. My mother always told me drink a pint of milk before you go out to soak up the booze. At 14. I had a few sexual assaults along the way but if I blame myself that’s victim blaming and I don’t want to be a bad feminist on top of everything. Med school in the 80’s/90’s was all over the drink. Freshers’ week was a booze insurance test. The circle line pub crawl, the Clint Eastwood Appreciation Society, the Med School pub crawl...end at Barts because Smithfield’s liscence meant you’d keep going all night.

*Booze always cheers you up*.

I’ve got to confess, my life has got a lot quieter. I’m going out much less, I leave early, I’m not champagne Charlie any more. I’m always, well, me. My dad was a depressed alcoholic, so was his dad (he ran a tobacconist and offie so that didn’t help) and his dad before him. And I have depression and PTSD. My moods are now not so high, but they are also not so low. This is very strange. I’m hoping this is a good thing. I’ve heard it is. This, this is the mEtOHd in my madness. The mood stabilisation. That’s the plan.

*Being a doctor is just one of those boozey jobs*

Fun quiz! Who do you think drinks the most? Enough to have a problem. Oooh, were good at guessing this in ED. Writers must be bad, farmers, journalists! yes, they’re always drunk, private invsestigators (?), airline pilots (like my dad, I saw what those guys put away). Ok...it’s.

Lawyers - reporting 33% with problematic drinking

Construction workers- 16.5%

Miners -17.5%

Then it’s Healthcare workers, especially doctors (oh no). A. 2012 study of American surgeons published in JAMA Surgery found 15.4 percent had an alcohol use disorder. Female surgeons (25.6 percent) were more likely than male surgeons (13.9 percent) to exhibit symptoms of alcohol addiction. Healthcare professionals in general it’s 10%

https://www.drugrehab.com/addiction/common-professions/

Performing artists and writers - 11.5%

Catering/hospitality -11%

So no pilots then? I think there’s something they’re not telling us or things are much better since the 80’s. 


 A 1998 study of junior doctors in Newcastle-upon-Tyne reported that:

* 60% exceeded the recommended safe limits for alcohol consumption

* 36% of males and 20% of females used cannabis 

The Sick Doctors Trust says “Since our working lives are spent helping others, it is easy to push aside our own problems, in addition to which, denial is quite common in medical staff. This is not deliberate, but a part of the whole illness of addiction. That addiction is a chronic illness which therefore requires treatment as for any other condition, is now well-established but there is still a tendency to feel that it is a sign of weakness, and that maybe things aren't 'that bad'.’

That some individuals are more prone to developing addiction is generally agreed. There is no single determining factor, but usually a combination of biological, psychosocial and environmental factors - a mixture of nature and nurture. There is now much evidence implicating dysfunction in the Dopamine transmitter system & it’s involvement in craving. There is also evidence to suggest that the effect alcohol has on an individual’s brain is genetically determined. A family history is present in many alcoholics- those having direct family affected being more at risk...

*Its a family affair*

I went to Adult Children of Alcoholics once. It wasn’t for me but what they said made total sense. I take responsibility for everyone, I’m primed for betrayal and disaster and I totally thrive in emotional drama. My dad wasn’t a nice drunk. He made my mum drink when pregnant ‘to keep him company’. She in turn gave babies a tot of brandy to keep them quiet as a stewardess and I can’t imagine my permanently shouting parents wouldn’t have liked us to be quiet babies too. So I’ve got pre and postnatal form. But I don’t have to fix them now. Particularly dad. It’s quite hard to fix dead people.

https://adultchildren.org/

*Booze: the solution AND cause of all of life’s difficulties*

Sick Doctors again “ Alcohol is the commonest substance of abuse in all doctors. Drinking will surprisingly continue despite negative consequences such as job difficulties, relationship breakdowns, financial problems, loss of driving licence; the alcoholic is driven by an irrational compulsion to continue, and frequently results in despair to the point of suicide. Fortunately, the depression associated with active alcoholism often abates when sober.”

http://sick-doctors-trust.co.uk/page/addiction

*I’m not an alcoholic*

and you probably aren’t either. But you might have problematic drinking. I did a survey as part of an UCLH research project. You can too. I lied a bit on it and still came out drinking more than 97% of women my age. Now an icon opens up on my phone every day to that says ‘DRINK LESS’. I stopped leaving my phone on meetings tables.

Drink Less. by Robert West

https://apps.apple.com/gb/app/drink-less/id1020579244

If you are thinking about getting help for problematic drinking or any other addictions including workaholism or have any burnout symptoms for more than 3 weeks, you can of course get staff support and occupational health. But/And there is the amazing NHS Practitioner Health Programme where doctors with any addictions are supported https://php.nhs.uk/ DocHealth is another equally good programme https://www.dochealth.org.uk/. I used the latter when it was MedNet.

So, do I feel amazing? Had I got amazing skin, lost weight, feel energised and hopeful. Urg, not really. I feel a bit scared actually. I’ve lost my social crutch and I’ve stopped going out. I’m worried I’m boring and people will think I’m weird. But....I can get up earlier to walk the dog, I’m moderately less tired and although I’m not skipping down the road happy, the depressive moment I had in spring could have been a lot worse. I think that’s actually amazing. And that’s why I’m doing this. I want to face the world honestly and openly. I want to enjoy my kids before they leave home which is frighteningly soon and weirdly, I want to know my liver replaced itself in a year so I’m literally a new person (don’t google Theseus’ Boat Paradox, life is complicated enough). Oddly compelling, that. So where did I stop? I stopped here. In a weird waiting room in my head. But with the promise of a new adventure through the next door.

But don’t stop doing you, babes. Keep telling me your booze bantz. They are hilarious. Any story that starts or ends with Baileys is only going one way. This clearly isn’t a lecture. Most people can do moderation. And do could I, mostly. And it’s the mostly that’s not good enough. Not for me. Not any more.

Online support - https://www.facebook.com/groups/joinclubsoda/?ref=share

Samaritans- https://www.samaritans.org/

BMA wellbeing including 24 hour support - https://www.bma.org.uk/advice/work-life-support/your-wellbeing

Tea and Empathy for doctors’ online support - https://www.facebook.com/groups/1215686978446877/?ref=share

Al Anon for children of alcoholics https://adultchildren.org/

https://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/

Dedicated to my husband who gave up the wine w*nker 6 years ago without any of this mid life crisis fuss. But I gave up meat and caffeine first so I still win.

[stephhannes]

one year.

“I realize as I write this that I do not want to finish this account.

Nor did I want to finish the year.

The craziness is receding but no clarity is taking its place.

I look for resolution and find none.

I did not want to finish the year because I know that as the days pass, as January becomes February and February becomes summer, certain things will happen. My image of John at the instant of his death will become less immediate, less raw. It will become something that happened in another year. My sense of John himself, John alive, will become more remote, even “mudgy,” softened, transmuted into whatever best serves my life without him. In fact this is already beginning to happen. All year I have been keeping time by last year’s calendar: what were we doing on this day last year, where did we have dinner, is it the day a year ago we flew to Honolulu after Quintana’s wedding, is it the day a year ago we flew back from Paris, is it the day. I realized today for the first time that my memory of this day a year ago is a memory that does not involve John. This day a year ago was December 31, 2003. John did not see this day a year ago. John was dead.”

—Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

this day a year ago was august 4th, 2018. nathan did not see this day a year ago. nathan was dead. 

it doesn’t feel like it’s already been one year without nathan. it feels like just yesterday we were in philly together. 

the more i think about the last day we spent together, the more i feel like i was a make-a-wish child getting a trip to disneyworld. the last day we spent together was what i would consider to be a dream day in terms of what my favorite days with nathan looked like. 

any day that we actually spent time together after he got off work was a dream day. once he started work, we were still trying to get into a routine, so for the first few weeks, we really didn’t see each other that much. he would get home from work at 4, go to the gym, eat dinner, hang out by himself for a little bit and then come to bed- where we’d usually talk for 30 minutes before he fell asleep. for that period of time, those 30 minutes were basically all of the real quality time we’d get together. but finally, we settled into a routine that allowed for more time together. 

the week before nathan died, i was out of town pretty consistently. i was in stewartstown from july 27th to the 31st, and then i went to new york on the 1st & 2nd of august. i got home late on the 2nd, nathan picked me up from the bus stop, and we immediately came home and went to bed. 

on august 3rd, nathan got to work from home for most of the day. i ran errands most of the morning and afternoon. i got home and he got done with work at basically the same time. he went to the gym, and i started cooking dinner. for some reason, this was the day that i was finally getting my life together after having a month-long nervous breakdown. i had gone to the grocery store earlier in the day and got things to cook something other than a “depression meal.” i’d also gone to the library, so i spent a lot of time that evening reading while sitting next to nathan as he was on the computer and eating dinner. 

we took a shower and then got into bed relatively early that night. i finished my book around 9:30 and we sat in bed and talked for a little bit. and then he fell asleep. i was on my laptop next to him for a little bit. the last time i touched him while he was alive was when i leaned over and kissed his shoulder when i noticed he was asleep next to me.

he was kinda half awake half asleep, and around 11 i was finally ready for bed. so i closed my laptop, and walked around the bed and closed his laptop for him, sat it down on the floor, and then went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. 

and that’s when it happened.

it all happened so quickly. i thought he was just sick. i didn’t realize he was dying. and then he stopped breathing. and i called 911. and he was dead. and they tried to revive him. and he was dead. and i couldn’t get in contact with anyone. and he was dead. and they took him to the hospital, and i followed behind the ambulance. and i got to the hospital and i waited in line at the ER because that’s what you’re supposed to do in the ER. and they told me they had no record of him. and i knew that meant that he was dead. and they told me to wait. and i waited. and tried to call people. i was so scared and so alone. and i sat in that waiting room on the phone with cody and i told her everything that had just happened and i wasn’t crying yet. not yet. 

and finally they took me to a consultation room. and finally a doctor told me that he was dead. 

and they let me see him. and i sat next to him for 30 minutes. the time they put on his death certificate as the time of death was actually a time when i was sitting in that room. i knew he had been dead for a couple of hours at that point. but bureaucracy runs slowly. he was dead at 11:08pm on august 3rd, but according to the certificate it was 1 something on the 4th. at 1 something i was crying in a chair next to his hospital bed, i was crying because they wouldn’t let me touch him. all i wanted to do was hold his hand.  

i finally left the hospital at 2am. 

i got home shortly after.

our apartment had never felt more empty, and just six weeks beforehand we hadn’t moved any furniture in yet. 

i walked in and every single light was on. earlier that night nathan had literally gotten on to me about my habit of leaving lights on. our bedroom was a still-life of what had happened a few hours before. one of our grey towels was on the floor, where they had laid him down to do cpr. the blankets were all on the floor, where they’d been thrown off when nathan collapsed out of bed. the fan was still running, laying on the bed, where i’d put it after nathan knocked it down on top of himself when he fell. 

i cleaned up the vomit. i picked up all of the scattered plastic that littered our rug from everything the paramedics had unwrapped. i grabbed one of nathan’s t-shirts that i knew smelled like him. i crawled into bed. i didn’t sleep.

no one else knew that nathan was dead until august 4th. just like every other big event in our relationship, there was a period of time where it was just ours. when we started dating, we didn’t tell anyone for a couple of days because we wanted to have it to ourselves for a little bit, and when we got engaged we waited a day to tell everyone because we wanted to keep it just for us for a few hours. and even when he died, it was just ours for a couple of hours.

i didn’t sleep for two days after nathan died. 

i haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep since nathan died. 

i still remember the first thing i ate after nathan died. on august 7th i ate one biscoff cookie, the ones they give you on american airlines flights. i was flying back to texas and was so weak that i had to eat something. i remember forcing myself to eat again a few days later. i wasn’t even hungry, but i knew that i had to eat something. 

+++

one of the very first things i did after nathan died was write a eulogy. i never intended on actually verbalizing it, i just had a lot of feelings that i wanted to write down. i sat and wrote it when i came home that morning after the hospital, and a very un-edited version of it ended up being what i read at his funeral. 

i thought that maybe this one year post would be as effortless to write, but it’s been hard trying to decide what i think is the most important thing to say. 

i wish that i could sit here and say that i’m doing great and i’m coping well, but that’s just not the case. i still miss nathan so much every single day. i still wake up every morning weighed down by such an insane amount of guilt that i’m the one that gets to wake up every morning instead of him. 

i think a lot about the time that nathan told me that i’ve “never needed him for anything,” and how i also believed that to an extent for a long time. i’ve been such an independent person for my entire life, and when nathan and i got together, i relinquished a lot of that independence- even if it didn’t really seem like it to either of us. now that he’s gone, i can’t help but notice this gaping hole in my life. i’m really realizing how much i did rely on him, mostly for emotional support. the hardest part about losing nathan is knowing that the one person who knows how to make me feel better is him, and now there’s no one that gets me like he did. 

one time when nathan and i were apart for a few weeks, he said “i just haven’t learned how to get by without you yet,” to me, and that’s exactly how i feel. i just don’t know how to get by without him yet. 

i still haven’t learned how to cook for just one person. every night when i come home from work, i feel this weird emptiness because i don’t have anyone to tell about my day. i get that i’m 24 years old and i should know how to self-soothe at this point but it’s been hard not having anyone to talk me down from my weird breakdowns at 3am. and it’s been hard not having someone to force me to get out of bed on my days off. i still can’t fathom my life without nathan in it, because he’s so intwined in how i exist from day-to-day. 

i still don’t know who i am without nathan. it feels like such a huge part of my identity revolved around him for more than half of my life. i’ve been having a hard time finding a purpose. when i was in high school, everything i did circled around taking care of nathan, being there for him when he was upset or stressed. when we started dating, it was the same thing. all the decisions i made for myself revolved around how i could best support nathan. now that i’m out here actually making decisions for myself and myself only, i don’t know what i want. nathan was the artist and the scientist and the athlete and i was the loyal sidekick. it feels weird to have my own identity now. to be more than the puppy at nathan’s feet. 

+++

i always think of this line from the letter nathan wrote me right before he moved to nyc- “It doesn’t feel fair at all that we could somehow find the one person in the universe that we truly want to be with, only to have to be separated again.” it still feels so unfair that we’re separated again. i still can’t believe that this is my life now. i can’t believe that i have to do this for the rest of my life. 

+++

the question i get the most now is “so what brought you to austin from new york?” and i’ve stopped doing that thing where i try to skirt around the truth. i tell the story the exact same way every time. “after i graduated from UT, i moved to new york because my fiancé was finishing up his master’s at columbia. when he graduated we moved to philly because that was where he got a job. then he died. now i’m here.” but even that story still doesn’t cover the entire last year of my life. 

when people ask what i did for the last year, i usually just say “i was on sabbatical.” i’m thankful that i got the opportunity to spend the last year doing whatever i wanted to do. for the first time in my life, i had a little bit of freedom. for the first time, i was able to travel and see my friends that i hadn’t seen in years, and go back home to nyc, and be there without worrying about if i was going to starve or be able to afford rent. i was able to lay in bed for like 6 months without the pressure of having to get a job. 

there are some days where i feel like i’ve made no progress. but i have to remember that i spent the first few months after nathan died literally thinking i was going to die from being so sad. 

i still cry a lot, but at least i feel like a human again. i’ll never forget how awful i felt after nathan died. 

for awhile, i thought i was going to get out of this without any sort of lasting ptsd or trauma, but boy was i wrong! lately i’ve found myself with more anxiety than i’ve ever had before. i’ve been having these consistent nightmares of everyone that i care about dying, and even in my waking life i’ve started having a lot of anxiety over the concept that “oh, everyone i know is going to die and knowing my luck it’s all going to happen very soon.” i’ve gotten more obsessive over small things- i’ve been having a hard time coming to terms with my lack of control. until nathan died, i felt relatively in control of everything in my life, but i lost so much control when nathan died and now i’ve just realized that i have no grasp on anything and it’s been a lot to cope with. 

anyways hopefully i’ll get a job with health insurance soon so i can go to therapy but until then i guess i’ll just be crazy, whatever. 

+++

i spend a lot of time thinking about what this year would have looked like if nathan hadn’t died. we would have been married by now. we would probably have a dog (or at least 2 cats) by now. we would probably be packing up to move a little further into the suburbs. we would have survived our first PA winter, i’m sure it would have been 3 months of him not letting me turn the heater on. i would have been even more in love with his dumb face than i already was. 

this last year wasn’t how i imagined it would be, but it was better than it could have been. i’m thankful for everyone that’s let me sleep on their couch, and everyone that’s checked in on me periodically, and everyone that’s spent time with me over the last year. i’m thankful for the new relationships i’ve built with people from nathan’s life that have now come into mine. part of the reason that i was so excited to marry nathan was an excitement for finally being a part of a family- and when he died i was so afraid that i was going to lose all of that. i’m glad that hasn’t been the case. 

from what i’ve read, the general consensus seems to be that the 2nd year is the hardest as a widow. so uhhhhh cool, can’t wait. 

[jswdmb1]

S.O.B.

“I'm gonna need someone to help me

I'm gonna need somebody's hand

I'm gonna need someone to hold me down

I'm gonna need someone to care”

- Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats

As I think about this year we just closed out, I noticed all of the retrospective accounts focused on specific events, and other big news stories that caught our attention. That makes plenty of sense, but it doesn’t seem truly representative of what really impacts each of us on a daily basis.  It’s the little things that happen every day that don’t seem like much at the time but add up to something significant.  This was true in 2018 for me as what really impacted me was one relatively small achievement that happened every day, one-day-at-a-time.  For the first calendar year in a very long time, I spent it sober.

As I write this, I am questioning the wisdom of going into this topic as I did when I discussed suicide earlier last year.  As a matter of fact, this is one of those posts that has been sitting on the shelf for a long time.  Once I pulled it back out a few weeks ago, I planned to post this on New Year’s Day, but couldn’t pull the trigger.  I went back and forth with it in my mind and even did some rare editing (and reediting) before finally hitting the “Post” button.  But, as hard as it was, I knew I had to do it to try and break the cycle of shame that comes with those who deal with problems with alcohol and/or drugs (or any addiction for that matter). 

I was also inspired to push ahead with this by one of those small, random events that happen which get forgotten about when you look back on a year.  This morning, with a ton of things on my to-do list, I instead leafed through the morning newspaper (yes, I still get it in print).  I was perusing through the “Health & Fitness” section (which I normally throw right out indicating the high level of procrastination I am facing right now), and came across a small column buried on the second page.  A writer by the name of Chris Erskine pens a essay each week called “The Middle Ages” and this week’s entry was titled “Grief and joy can surge along the same channel”.  I rarely give you links, but stop right now and read it here: https://www.latimes.com/home/la-hm-erskine-column-20181222-story.html.  Here is a man who lost a son and a wife in the same year and still has the courage to write with humor and inspire others.  Reading it was enough of a push to finally get me to finish and post this.

So, when it comes up in conversation that I do not drink, it is usually followed by two questions that have the same answer: When did you stop? and Will you drink again?  My reply to both is I don’t know.  I actually do not remember the last drink I had.  It’s not that I was blacked out or so drunk that it got erased from my memory.  It was just not a significant event at the time for me to mark it in my mind as an occasion (i.e., I didn’t know it was my last drink).  As far as what happens going forward, anyone who has faced the prospect of going sober knows that you take it one day at a time.  You wake up in the morning with the same challenge you had the day before, and you go to bed each night grateful for the sobriety you had that day.  You don’t ask for anything more and, in return, you don’t have to worry about tomorrow until it gets here.  To try it any other way is overwhelming and seems to rarely be successful from what I’ve heard.  

The second question seems to be the part that really throws people.  In a day and age where answers are certain and immediate, leaving something so big open-ended seems uncomfortably fluid.  Actually, it’s quite the opposite as it’s quite liberating to have something so important that you don’t have to think about beyond the current moment.  For me, the heart of anxiety is worrying about the past and/or the future, but with sobriety all you worry about is the present which is very calming.  Rather than thinking about how to stay sober for the rest of my life (which by definition is an indefinite period), I just focus on getting to the end of the day.  With that approach, every day is a success and my effort feels rewarded versus waiting for a result that never comes.  There may be a day where that doesn’t happen, and while I am not planning for that to take place, I can’t possibly know for sure so I don’t spend much time worrying about it.  

I suppose the first question also causes confusion.  I concede it is odd that one wouldn’t know when something seemingly so significant happened so I guess I owe some explanation.  I was still drinking and taking certain prescription medications in a way they weren’t intended when I went into my out-patient hospitalization program for treatment last fall after I basically had what they used to call a “nervous breakdown”.  I needed Ativan in the morning and a few drinks after getting home at night just to get through the first few days of the program, which were intense.  When you go through a program like this, nothing can be hidden easily as you become so attached to it and the people you are with that any dishonesty eats at you.  I quickly disclosed my continued behaviors, and without going into a lot of details, came to the conclusion that I needed to stop drinking and using drugs (except of course those prescribed by my psychiatrist and taken properly).  That was it and I don’t remember the day it happened or when I had that last drink before coming to that decision.  If I was more self-aware at the time, I may have noted it, but instead I moved on to the next thing and quickly forgot anymore details of the event.

As for the time that has elapsed, it’s again one-day-at-a-time.  The first few months were definitely harder and certain milestones (death anniversaries, holidays, etc.) really tested me.  I went to a couple AA meetings, which gave me some good perspective, but I decided this was something I needed to do for myself and by myself, so I stopped going to those.  Gradually, I came to realize that I just felt better physically, mentally, and emotionally when I was sober.  It became less about giving something up and more about receiving positive benefit from a fundamental change I made in my life.  That motivated me to keep going and even as I sit here at least fifteen months later, I stay focused on how I feel and not so much about how I got here or why I even chose to get sober.

The problem with sharing this story is that it is so personal that I don’t think it is interesting or useful to anyone else. That’s why AA meetings didn’t work for me. I’m not knocking AA. It’s a great organization that has helped a lot of people, but they seem to have a black and white view on alcoholism/addiction where I think it has many shades of grey. I also think that you are the only one who can decide if you have a issue to deal with or not. Early on, I had some folks close to me wonder if I really was an alcoholic. My response was that I was the only one there for every drink poured, every pill swallowed; and every joint smoked, so no one else can make that call but me.  Each and every person needs to make the same determination about their own habits and come to their own conclusions that make sense for themselves.  For example, I am on several medications for depression and anxiety that are directly contradicted by the use of alcohol (they don’t just put that on the label for fun).  Alcohol really negates the impact of the pills and in some cases can make them dangerous.  By quitting drinking, I was able to finally allow the medications to start doing what they are supposed to and that has been a big part of my feeling better.  While this was big for me, that may not be the case for someone else.  Again, that is why it is so hard to give advice other than to trust your gut and to do what you feel.  That’s always going to be a better litmus test that what someone else can tell you.

I really could go on and on about all of the other wonderful things that come with sobriety, but I will share just two.  One is the wonderful support you get from friends and family.  That is where you really find out what unconditional love is.  The second is finding out how much of the world shares this problem.  One of my coping mechanisms is to drink non-alcoholic beer.  It really helps give me a crutch in social situations where I usually would be drinking.  When I started out, I thought that this is going to be weird when I go into a bar or restaurant.  Turns out, lots of people drink N/A beer and I have had some servers even disclose to me discretely on the side that they do not drink either and appreciate what I’m doing.  Those kind of experiences can’t help but give you confidence and inspire you to keep up the fight.

Usually when I finish one of these I feel good for getting it put together and get a peaceful energy that often comes from journaling, but after writing this one I’m exhausted. It seems like posting these thoughts is self-indulgent, but I’ll let the individual reader decide that for themselves. As I always say, if even one nugget of information is useful to one person then I think it is worth it to put it out there. I’m too spent to even come up with a great ending to all of this (that implies my other posts have great endings, which I know is not true, but it sounded good to say). I’ll just leave you with one piece of advice that fits most situations: take it one day at a time and let your personal journey, whatever that may be, develop on its own.

Peace and Happy New Year,

Jim