#as a ‘dr’s mental illness affects real life’ tag

[rowanthestrange]

I’m gonna get clown shoes I’m sorry, but…the thing I don’t get with the snow and song in her heart and carol of the bells stuff…

If this is a salted ‘believing she’s special made her special’ thing…who believed she was special?

We didn’t really until the Maestro said “oh there is something wrong with this girl”.

Ruby didn’t until her mother was seeming to be some great beater of death in the last episode.

And even though the Doctor had still seen all what was going on with her, a) was kinda surprised when it snowed and when the Maestro said she was weird, and b) even literally at the finale was just like ‘wait UNIT has supermega government quality research power what if I get them to track down her mum’ - which suggests he is thinking she’s a root normal person.

I’m not trying to be all clownish, really I’m not, but the memory kept changing. We said that! We repeated it multiple times.

The Doctor told us in the Church voiceover he knew who the mother was - “As for the mother, she was never seen again. No one ever knew her name, until that night a time traveller came to call. A traveller known as the Doctor.��� The Doctor cried, he wept. He knew.

His explanation about her pointing at the sign to name her doesn’t make sense, she wasn’t staring at the lamppost, the Doctor and TARDIS were there in the way, they weren’t invisible, their landing there was never undone, they were always right there, that’s how time travels works. She’d have left a note. A thing that actually comes up in Space Babies, no note, nothing.

What if he suppressed the memory? What if he didn’t want to believe it? Wanted to believe something else, anything else.

And beliefs are real. So what if his denial warped the story?

[lykaios2]

blog hiatus details

if you're reading this you probably saw my blog title so let me explain (tl;dr at the end)

life has been a tad crazy at the moment (moment meaning like the past 3 months as of posting this) for a few reasons. i am currently doing my first year of college/running start so dealing with that and adjusting to a different workload/workstyle has been interesting and frankly time consuming. my family has also been going a bit crazy and while it doesn't really affect me personally it sometimes does take a portion of my thoughts. i am also just kind of in that age where i'm preparing for the real world; driving a car, getting a job, college, etc. and while i have thankfully got through my horrendous seasonal depression (it was so bad this winter) it is only replaced by anxiety so that's pretty epic as well.

throughout the past few months the busyness and mental illness caused a really bad lack of motivation, and as you may have noticed i just started reblogging like hell. i did feel a bit bad about it ngl. on the bright side, i do have a few ideas in store for when i finally get back my motivation and time (which might be soon). also hopefully with the seasonal depression out of the way it'll be easier for me to get over any negative thoughts i have about doing art

also i slowly just kinda forgot about this blog with life needing my attention a lot more. when i come back, i'll probably make another blog for rb'ing, so i can make more meaningful posts here on the main blog. i did get the classic "doing it for the likes" feeling a lot, and i probably will still have that when i come back, but i'll try to be doing stuff for myself more. maybe i'll also actually get good at art

i also apologize to those who have been tagging me in stuff, i do feel really bad about not responding. i miss you guys and i am super excited to come back, i just need to prepare myself a bit more

tl;dr: life has been crazy, motivation has been down. i have ideas for when i come back, which is hopefully soon. also i will try to change my view on how this blog works and operates

anyway thanks for reading all this, see you guys soon ❤️❤️❤️

also i am dating someone now. whoops 🙃

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Confession Time

TW: For talks of mental illness as well as a mention of suicide.

This has actually been on my mind for quite a while but I was worried about how it would be taken. However this has actually come up several times in the Azula tag now so I might as well talk about it. And before I get to the point I just want to say that I’m very much open to respectful discussion. Please don’t rip me apart over this. 

So here we go; Azula/Therapy makes me rather uncomfortable.

And it does so on a rather personal level and for several reasons. I can’t really get into my biggest reason because it’s very deeply personal and I don’t feel comfortable sharing it online. So I’m gonna start with the less personal reasons as to why I think that Azula/Therapy is kinda sketchy imo.  

I feel as though most people who ship Azula/Therapy don’t really realize how it affects real people? For one thing I feel like it makes a joke of therapy. It’s kind of hard to explain but therapy isn’t some cute and quirky thing. It’s a very serious matter and to ship Azula/Therapy like it’s the next Drapple (Draco/Apple) just doesn’t sit right with me. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I feel like most people who ship Azula/Therapy don’t particularly mean any offense. I feel like to a degree it comes from a place of innocence. But and its big but, I think that Azula/Therapy got its origins from a not so wholesome place. In fact I think that the ship was  born from a place of hate. I think that the first time I encountered Azula/Therapy it was from a very notorious Azula anti. It gained traction with the anti crowd as a means to harass and guilt people for shipping Azula with anyone. And that’s not okay. I think that somewhere down the lines, the Azula fandom kind of reclaimed it but. I am damn near certain that this started as an Azula anti thing.

It’s one thing to ship Azula/Therapy because you don’t feel like Azula is sound enough to be in a relationship. But don’t try to guilt others for disagreeing. And this kind of leads me to my main problem with Azula/Therapy.

I think that it’s kind of, sort of (dare I say) ableist? Just because someone has a mental illness doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be loved. I’ve been kind of keeping tabs on discussions on this and I came across one anon who literally say something about how “Azula would just be a burden to her lover.” NGL that had me floored because this is the exact line of thinking that puts depressed people in a bad place. Speaking from experience, people with depression feel like burdens/like they are bringing people down. And to see this line of thinking being affirmed in fandom spaces does not help real people who are experiencing the same thing. God forbid someone shares disorder traits with Azula and they see that. 

I am 100% that there are some relationships where a person just isn’t stable enough to be in a relationship and it would be detrimental for them to have one. But for other people finding a lover can be instrumental to recovery! So by all means, this is definitely a matter of something being a case by case thing. Getting a littler personal (but without getting into too many details) I know two people who literally saved each other. And by this I mean, one was super depressed and the other was ready to kill themself. Finding each other was what rekindled their will to live again. That’s why it really bothers me to see Azula/Therapy being tossed around so carelessly. To me there’s this underlying implication that mentally ill people shouldn’t be allowed to date and get love. And that’s just not fair?  I feel like people maybe don’t think about this when posting Azula/Therapy stuff. 

“Well Azula specifically shouldn’t be in a relationship yet because she’s not in a good place for it.”

Okay fair but consider a few things; 1. some people specifically write post-redemption Azula ship fics 2. some people enjoy writing out fics where romance helps her heal. 

I have seen it come up that someone (I won’t mention names because I’m not sure if this user would want that) mention that they ship Azula/Therapy because they aren’t up to writing a fic that involves an arc of Azula getting to a place where she can have romance. Which is totally fair. But, that doesn’t mean that other people can’t. And I feel like this fandom has been trying to guilt people for shipping Azula with anyone. As mentioned, this isn’t fine. (@ mentioned user, feel free to reply). 

Another thing that I saw was an anon saying that being anti Azula/Therapy is aro/acephobic. I’m going to put my foot down as someone who has been very openly aro/ace and say, don’t try to speak for all of us. Yes romance isn’t the solution for everyone because romance isn’t what everyone is looking for. And I absolutely agree with this. However Azula is a fictional character and not everyone headcanons her as aro/ace. For some people, writing Azula in a romance as part of the healing process is what makes them happy. It doesn’t make them aro/acephobic. 

One more thing that I saw come up regarding Azula specifically. And I think that they made a wonderful point; Azula’s breakdown (as I interpreted it) came from a lack of love. Azula craved genuine affection whether she realized it or not. So I would argue that Azula would be one of those people who could strongly benefit from being in a relationship as part of the healing processes. By all means, make therapy a part of that healing process! She can be in a relationship and she can still go to therapy. She can use that therapy to help her keep that relationship healthy. I guess what I’m trying to say is I could get on board with Azula/*Character*/Therapy as an OT3. 99.99% sure that this is really common in real life. Actually 100% sure because (again without sharing too much personal info) I have seen a rather unstable person get into a relationship and use therapy to help them make sure that said relationship stays healthy. 

A person doesn’t have to be 100% mentally sound to be in a relationship. And having a mental illness while  being in a relationship doesn’t automatically make it a toxic or dangerous relationship on principal. I think that (depending on the disorder) some long discussions need to be had and some boundaries need to be put in place. Speaking from experience, I have heard someone say something akin to, “alright, I have *disorder* if I ever do *bad habit* then take these steps and don’t let me push you around...” Things like that. 

TL;DR: I feel like Azula/Therapy (even if it comes from a well meaning place) can be disheartening for people who relate to Azula & people who already feel like a burden in their real life relationships. Ship Azula/Therapy if you want and if it makes you comfortable but don’t try to shame people for shipping her with other characters. Also be weary of people who ship Azula/Therapy  as a means to belittle others.

I think that’s it for now.  If I think of anything else, I’ll add it. I’ll just end by saying that I don’t mean this to be antagonistic or yell at anyone but to offer a new POV.

[the-brothers-jack]

People aren't saying fat is gross- its just hindering and is bad in excess. That in itself should be a motivator to shed the pounds off . Why does it upset you?

Honey, go to the fat acceptance tag. There are PLENTY of people there saying fat is gross. Even if they also say "oh I'm just concerned," in the next breath they're using dehumanising language and belittling all fat people as idiots who just can't count calories properly.

Plus the very act of invading spaces where people go to try to feel good about their bodies - regardless of health - to talk about how their bodies are wrong and they should *want* to be thin because that's the assumed correct, moral, healthy thing to do - is an attack on the purpose of those spaces, which is to allow people whose bodies don't fit the assumed "norm" the space to feel good about their bodies, regardless of whether those bodies are healthy or not.

Like with JK Rowling and her TERF-y ilk claiming they're "just saying that sex is real" when literally no one has ever put forward the idea that sex isn't real, I find that a lot of those folks putting "concern about health" in the fat acceptance tag are arguing against a position that doesn't really exist in fat acceptance movements. No one I've interacted with has ever said that fat people shouldn't try to be healthy, or that it's fine to just let eating disorders happen without treatment, or that people whose lives are seriously affected by their weight shouldn't strive for a better life and repair their bodies, but this is the supposition made by opponents of fat acceptance - that, surely, if we treat fat people well and celebrate their bodies even if they aren't "healthy", this will breed a generation of complacence and people will ignore the basic need to look after their bodies because society won't belittle them for not doing that.

What I find interesting about this supposition is that it's completely fabricated - it's a dystopian fantasy created by the ignorant to reassure themselves that it's fine, actually, to be cruel to people and belittle them because of their bodies - because they're basically saving the world!

If you're actually invested in the health of fat people, it's interesting to me that you don't bring up the reason I made that post, which I was very explicit about especially in the tags. I have a host of mental illnesses, including depression, which are the most pressing medical concern in my life right now. I take anti-depressants and I've been in and out of therapy for years to deal with this medical problem. My doctors are far more worried about my mental wellbeing than they ever have been about my weight - which, despite being considered "obese" on the BMI scale, they have actually *never* highlighted as a pressing concern. If you think that shedding weight should be a higher priority to me right now than protecting my mental health, I doubt I could change your mind, but know that in thinking that you are in fact going against the recommendations of medical professionals and against medical science.

But to your question - why does it upset me that a space dedicated to the acceptance and inclusion and right of fat people to exist has been invaded by naysayers and angry ranting about idiots who're too stupid to count calories? Well for one thing, hating my body has always been a factor in my struggle against self-loathing and depression. There isn't a fat girl alive who wasn't shunned and bullied by her peers because of her body. But for another - the concerns about weight hindrance or body fat distribution or lack of exercise or fatty foods ring especially hollow when fat acceptance has never really been about bodily health, not really - it's about mental health. Though, obviously, the two are linked - hard to have one without the other. And that's part of the point.

See, fat shaming doesn't actually *work* to keep a population healthy, let alone thin. What it does is create mental health problems far greater than any physical health problems posed by excess body fat, and in fact it makes being physically healthy (and losing weight) harder for the fat person who is being shamed for their body. Take for example, exercise - people always laugh at fat bodies exercising. There are cringe compilations and covert pictures mocking fat people for going to the gym or going swimming or doing literally anything to try to get some exercise in. From what angle can you view this as anything but bad for the fat person's health? Dieting is also a problem - fat people are miserable enough because they've been taught to hate the bodies they have, so how do you expect them to give up on the basic pleasures of chocolate and wine? They're going to be mocked for their weight either way, and dieting is statistically unlikely to lead to weight loss anyway, so why would someone who is ashamed of their body try for a healthier diet or an exercise regime? Why put in the effort to take care of something you hate? There is also medical gatekeeping, where weight is presumed to take precedent over any other possible causality for physical ailments, to the point where some doctors refuse to even test for things they'd immediately test for in a thin person until their patient has lost X amount of weight. This can kill people. That's hardly promoting public health.

Even if fat was the be-all, end-all of health (which there is significant justification for disbelieving), clearly whatever the folks invading the fat acceptance tag think they're doing to help is harmful. Maybe they know this, and they don't care, or refuse to listen to information which contradicts their worldview, because bullying feels good, and they want to feel like they're saving the world. Maybe they do actually have some concerns, questions, fears about the dystopian fantasy they've been told is real - in which case, I hope what I've said helped you think a bit more about it.

TL;DR: Everybody - literally, every body - deserves to love itself regardless of whether it's the acceptable size or shape, regardless of whether or not that body is healthy. From what we've seen, it's self-love, not self-hate, which actually promotes health and self-care. Maybe losing fat would make people healthier, maybe not, but clearly whatever the fat shaming crowd are doing is the opposite of promoting health. Frankly, to me, they're indistinguishable from any other kind of bully.

[particularemu]

Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 5

Parts: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]

Word Count: 4605

Type: ANGST, FLUFF

Warnings: insanity, self-harm, suicide, drugs, mentions of rape, nightmares, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, physical violence

Tag List: @alightiny​​ @cheonsali​, @jisungsjheekies​, @channiesmixtape​

Author’s Note: Okay, so this chapter was originally 13K words, but it felt ridiculous to post a chapter that long when all the others are around 4-7K. I decided to split that giant ass chapter up into 3 chapters, so you guys are going to get pretty regular updates over the next few days. 

WARNING: I know I have this up in the warnings, but I want to make it VERY CLEAR in case this is triggering for people. This series is very dark and very horror based and since we’re starting to dive deep into the plot, very triggering topics are going to start popping up in the future chapters. 

THIS CHAPTER MENTIONS RAPE. It is very brief, and it passes in conversation, but I feel like this needs to be said in case it’s triggering for some people. 

“I love you!” 

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat at your sudden confession. Surely you didn’t love love him right? There was no way…

Hyunjin pursed his lips as his mind swarmed with possibilities. There was a real chance that you didn’t actually love him. 

There’s this thing called The Suspension Bridge Effect — where trauma victims mistake the feeling of trust, security, and admiration for a feeling of love. All of your small confessions — your little phrases, “I trust you,” “I adore you,” and “I care about you,” could be a HUGE sign that you just felt safe with him. Odds are… you’ve fallen into this trap.

But if you really did love him…

God, if you really did love him, Hyunjin would have to admit to himself that he loves you. Then he could finally kiss you, hold you, and love you the way you should be loved but… it would also force the two of you to keep your relationship hidden from the institution — which would be really difficult judging by the nosey people who work in the building. You two would either have to keep your relationship a secret, or he would have to work hard and come up with an escape plan, so the two of you could finally be happy out in the real world. 

But what if this feeling wasn’t love? What if Hyunjin loved you as a friend? The boy never truly experienced love the way many other people do when they’re younger. His family didn’t take care of him — he took care of himself. He didn’t fall in love as a teenager — he studied to become a doctor. 

After thinking a bit longer Hyunjin decided that no — no he didn’t love you in that way. You were his friend — a patient, not a lover. Besides, you were probably just telling him you loved him as a friend. “I love you too sweetheart.” Hyunjin smiled softly. “I’m glad you trust me. I promise I won’t let anything else happen to you.” Hyunjin ran his thumb across your cheek. “You’re the best patient I’ve ever had.” 

Oh…

Did you just get friend-zoned? Well actually, the two of you had a professional relationship, so you technically got patient-zoned. 

You were still just a patient in his eyes. Every fiber of your being was fighting the urge to facepalm and yet… you were completely and utterly embarrassed about blurting out your love for the beautiful man. Hyunjin clearly didn’t understand what you were telling him. That boy was a genius but he’s got to be the world’s most dense guy.

Well, you couldn’t fault him for it. From what Hyunjin has told you, he’s been alone most of his life. He was either taking care of his mother or studying to be a doctor so he could dedicate his life to helping those who suffer from mental illnesses. Hyunjin was such an amazing guy. He was so relatable, yet — so untouchable. You wouldn't be surprised if Hyunjin confessed that he wasn’t interested in romantic relationships. 

You would still love him anyway. 

Sure… you could just confess once more — hold his cheeks in your hands, plant a kiss on his lips, tell the boy that you loved him more than life itself — tell him that he’s the reason you’re alive to see the moon rise and the stars sparkle. You could do all of that but… you wouldn’t dare ruin the soft moment. You enjoyed the feeling of his arms around your body, the feeling of his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your arm, listening to the soft thumping of his heart as you curled up in his chest. You didn’t want to ruin that. Besides, if he didn’t love you back, you just dodged a bullet. 

“Can we just talk?” You mumbled, suddenly feeling awkward at the silence. “Your voice sounds nice.” 

As if you could be more obvious…

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?” Hyunjin smiled and ran his fingers through your hair. The soft strands slipped effortlessly through his fingers, making his heart swell. 

You sighed, searching your brain for any answers. No particular topics came to mind — you really just wanted to hear his soft voice as he talked about everything and anything. “Anything.” You leaned closer in his embrace as you grabbed his other hand, tracing one of the veins with the tip of your finger. 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile as you fiddled with his hand. It felt oddly nice, being this close with someone. Throughout his life, Hyunjin never really felt physical affection. His father was out of the picture from a young age, having committed suicide when he was a young boy, and his mother lost her mind soon after. Most of his childhood was spent taking care of his mother, and/or making sure she doesn’t kill herself. When he wasn’t taking care of others, he had his nose in a book. Feeling soft touches, hugs, and small caresses were brand new to him — and he enjoyed it more than he was willing to admit. 

In fact — the boy was practically touch-starved. Every single time you had your arms around him, Hyunjin felt safe, cared for, and loved. When your arms weren’t on him, he felt lost. “I want to hear about you.” Hyunjin smiled softly. “What can you tell me about yourself?”

You paused for a second, fingers stilling on Hyunjin’s hands as you tried to remember something — anything that would give him an idea of who you were. Unfortunately, your mind was blank. There was nothing. You couldn’t remember a single thing about yourself. “I don’t remember much.” You sighed. “I guess there is one thing.”  Your fingers started to move against Hyunjin’s hand once more. Wait... was that weird? You quickly dropped his hand, mumbling a quick, “Sorry.” 

“Hm?” Hyunjin’s brow raised as he looked down at your hands. “No, keep going. It feels nice.” Hyunjin slid his hand back into yours as he asked, “What do you remember?”

You pressed your thumb into Hyunjin’s palm gently as you kept talking. “I keep seeing flashes of something.” You sighed. “I think it’s a kidnapping…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words. “It might be mine.” 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched as the words left your lips. 

So you were kidnapped… 

Of course, there was a chance that this was just a frequent recurring nightmare you were having, but… Hyunjin always had a feeling you didn’t belong in the institution. Someone at the asylum kidnapped you and brought you to the hospital… Who could that be?

“I always get a really bad headache and I get scared when I think about it.” You paused, taking a deep breath to control your emotions. “Hyunjin… I’m scared to find the truth.” 

You were terrified. What if you found out your entire life was a lie? Your mind was filled with memories of the institution — almost none were from your past. You could remember meeting Minho, Chan, and Changbin. You also remembered the day your eyes met Hyunjin’s — the chocolate orbs driving deep within your soul immediately. 

“That’s understandable sweetheart.” Hyunjin’s arms tightened around your frame. “Do you…” The boy paused, wondering if he should even ask. “Do you remember murdering someone?”

“No.” Your eyes welled up with tears. “No, I don’t.” Your breathing started to speed up as you wiped your eyes, hoping to hide any traces of tears. You were so sick of crying, sick of being afraid, of being alone… You just wanted to get out of Rosewood so you could live a normal life. That wouldn’t be possible if you were a murderer — and if you were a murderer… God, that means you’re a horrible person. “Hyunjin what if I did?” 

Hyunjin rested his chin on your head. “Shh, it’s okay sweetheart. You aren’t a horrible person.” Hyunjin rubbed soothing circles on your back with his thumb, hoping the small gesture would make you feel less afraid. “We don’t know anything right now. There’s no use in worrying about it until we figure out what happened. For all we know, Dr. Douglas could have been lying.” 

“Can we please talk about something else?” You mumbled into his chest. You needed to change the subject before you wound up having another attack. “Tell me something about you.” You paused, wondering what to ask him. “Something deep.” 

Wait… would he even want to talk to you about his life? Sure, you tell Hyunjin everything but, he was your doctor. Maybe it’s weird for a doctor to share their stories with a patient… Fuck, you never should have asked. “Only if you want to though.” 

“No, I don’t mind.” Hyunjin smiled. “It’s only fair. I’m always in your business.” Hyunjin chuckled, the deep laughter sending a wave of calm over your being. 

“Yeah, but you’re my doctor.” You giggled, “I’m just nosey.” 

Hyunjin smiled softly, eyes crinkling as he mentally snapped a picture of your bright smile. Ah, but you were right. He was your DOCTOR. Nothing more, nothing less. Hyunjin needed to start treating you more like a patient. 

But was it that wrong to be close with your patient? You were getting so much better thanks to the way he treated you. But was he treating you like this because he cared about your mental stability? Or was it something deeper? Perhaps it was just pure instinct. Hyunjin couldn’t tell. 

No… Hyunjin knew exactly what this was, he was just in denial about it. He loved you with all his heart. He trusted you with all this information. Something deep inside him WANTED to tell you everything. 

“You’re not nosey.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I guess I’ll tell you about me and my family.” Hyunjin took a deep breath, scanning his brain for memories worth sharing. “When I was young, my mother discovered that I was a bit different from all the other kids.” Hyunjin smiled. “I was reading at a much higher level, I could solve complex math problems in my head, and I knew the entire English dictionary back to front.” Hyunjin’s eyes crinkled as he grinned at you. “That was when we found out that I was classified as a genius.” 

“Wow.” You smiled. “That must have made school pretty easy.” 

You couldn’t remember anything about your school days. Perhaps you were a closet genius? Nah, that wasn’t possible. Judging by how complacent you are in the institution, you were probably one of those kids who went through the motions just so they could get out of school. 

“Yeah…” Hyunjin paused. “It comes with its own set of problems. My father worked in a dead-end job. From what I heard, he was always unhappy.” The boy sighed. “One day he just decided to end it all.” Hyunjin pursed his lips. “I was five-years-old when I found him dead on the bathroom floor surrounded by tons of pills.” Hyunjin’s hand ran across his jaw as if to wipe away any emotion from his face. “He always smiled when he was around me, so it felt like his death was out of the blue.” 

“God, Hyunjin.” You looked up at him, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” You adjusted your position, straddling his hips so you could hug him. 

“Thank you.” Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your frame. “But don’t worry. This happened such a long time ago. It doesn’t really bother me now. Besides, I don’t really think he was my real father. I didn’t look like him at all.” Hyunjin chuckled darkly. 

“Jinnie, he was still your father.” You pulled away to look him in the eyes. “That shit doesn’t just go away. It always sticks with you.” 

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed slightly as he pulled you closer. “Thank you. I still had my mother at the time.” 

“Had?” Your face fell. “Is your mother?”

“No.” Hyunjin interrupted you. “My mother is alive.” He smiled. “I miss her very much.” 

“How did she handle your father’s death?” You asked. 

Hyunjin’s eyes shifted away from your gaze. “Not well.” He sighed. “Her anxiety slowly started to eat her away. When I was young, I didn’t really have any friends because I was either studying or taking care of my mom. It was my job to make sure she didn’t kill herself.” 

Oh, God…

That shouldn’t have been Hyunjin’s job. Your heart broke for the boy. He never had a chance to be a kid — to go fall out of a tree and break his arm, to play tag with all the kids on the playground, to enjoy a bunch of toys during Christmas. The poor boy was trying to keep what was left of his family together. 

“Hyunjin, you’re such a good person.” You rested your hands on his cheeks. “Please remember that.” God, you wanted to kiss him right now. “Minho and I couldn’t imagine a life without you.”

Hyunjin froze. Sure, Minho had been a good friend to him so far, until… Until it really mattered. Until he was about to risk it all to break you out of the padded room — then Minho decided to bail. Suddenly his reputation at the institution mattered more than justice. 

Was Minho really trustworthy? At this point, Hyunjin didn’t know. Anxiety was slowly bubbling in his chest. If Minho really wanted to break out of the asylum, he wouldn’t care about his reputation. What if the older boy was planning to rat Hyunjin out?

Part of Hyunjin knew he was being unreasonable. Of course, it would look suspicious if all the doctors started to act out. They need someone on the inside to help them escape that godforsaken place. Still…

What were Minho’s intentions?

For the first time in his life, Hyunjin had a friend — someone he trusted with his life. He’d be devastated if Minho decided to rat them out. At Rosewood, who knew what would happen. With all the trouble Hyunjin has caused, he wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up dead in a ditch. 

“Hey, you okay?” You tilted your head, the cute movement shaking Hyunjin out of his negative thoughts. 

A sad smile took over Hyunjin’s features. “Minho and I just had a little spat.” 

“I’m sure you two will figure it out.” You hugged Hyunjin once more. “Anyone can tell that the two of you care about each other.” 

“I hope you’re right.” Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile as your body grew heavy on top of him. “Did you fall asleep on me?” Hyunjin chuckled when he heard no response. His eyes drifted shut as he held you close, exhaustion making him pass out underneath you. 

---------------------

After having back-to-back shifts, Hyunjin was exhausted. He slowly trudged back to the dorms, ready to plop in bed and sleep for a whole damn day. Thank God Chan agreed to cover him for the night shift so he could get some much-needed sleep. 

Hyunjin opened the door to the dorms and headed down the hallway, eyes widening when he spotted Minho unlocking his door. The older boy looked worn out, stressed, and upset — like he’d break down and cry any minute. If Hyunjin wasn’t so tired, he’d consider hiding behind the corner until Minho disappeared in his room, but frankly… Hyunjin was ready to drop any second. The boy strolled down the hall, heart dropping when Minho’s eyes landed on him. “Hey.” Minho waved, a fake smile taking over his features as he turned towards Hyunjin. “Long day?”

“Long day and night.” Hyunjin chuckled as he entered the code to his room, mentally cursing at himself when his index finger pressed the wrong number. “I stayed for the day shift after breaking her out of solitary confinement.” 

“Wow.” Minho’s brows creased as he fiddled with his thumbs. “Do you mind if I come in for a bit.” Minho paused. “I know you’re tired… I won’t stay long.”  

“Sure.” Hyunjin entered the correct code to his room, sighing as he pushed the heavy door open.

Minho walked in and plopped on the bed, ruffling the neat blankets — something that would have seriously irked Hyunjin if he wasn’t so tired. The boy was known for keeping things nice and neat. Every single morning, he made the bed, put his clothes in the hamper, tidied up, and then every night Minho would pop in and disrupt the clean environment by bouncing on the bed and checking out every picture frame Hyunjin had in the room. Oh, but Hyunjin enjoyed the boy’s company. 

“Yeah, make yourself at home.” Hyunjin chuckled as he neatly hung his jacket in the closet. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight anyways.” 

Minho smiled — a genuine smile that made Hyunjin feel a little bit better. “Don’t be salty.” Minho’s face dropped as his gaze shifted to his hands. “I wanted to make sure we’re good.” 

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin figured it’d be best to play dumb vs. telling the boy how frustrated he was. 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Minho scoffed. “You left the room all pissed off. I didn’t want to upset you but —” 

“I get it.” Hyunjin pulled his uniform shirt off, tossing the garment into the laundry hamper neatly tucked in the corner. 

“No, you —” Minho paused, eyes widening as he scanned Hyunjin’s body. “Hey, are you taking care of yourself?” 

Hyunjin frowned as he looked down at his body. Sure he’s thinned out a bit, but he’s had a lot going on. “Yeah.” 

“No, you’re not.” Minho rolled his eyes and stood up. “I’ll be right back.” Hyunjin sighed as Minho ran out the door, cocking it open with one of Hyunjin’s shoes so the boy wouldn’t have to let him in again. 

Hyunjin quickly pulled on one of his hoodies, yanking the hood off his head before he slipped out of his work trousers. After throwing on some sweats, Hyunjin plopped in bed, fighting to keep his eyes open while he waited for Minho to get back from doing… whatever he was doing. 

Hyunjin was fighting a losing battle. 

“Oi, wake up.” Minho smacked Hyunjin’s shoulder, startling the boy awake. 

“I wasn’t asleep, I was just resting my eyes.” Hyunjin chuckled as he sat up, yawning. 

“Eat this.” Minho handed Hyunjin a bowl of ramen, decorated with various seasonings, hard-boiled eggs, and tons of vegetables and meat. 

“Did you seriously cook this for me?” Hyunjin took a big bite of the noodles, closing his eyes at the delicious taste. “It’s really good, thank you.” 

“Well, I put it together, but don’t give me too much credit. I just fancied up the packaged stuff.” Minho waved off Hyunjin’s compliment. He sat beside Hyunjin as the younger boy devoured the food. “I know you want to take care of her, but you need to make sure you’re eating properly. You’ll drop dead on the ground if you don’t take care of yourself.” 

Hyunjin sighed. “I know. You’re right.” Hyunjin set the empty bowl on his night-table, instantly dropping his head on Minho’s shoulder. “I just feel like something bad will happen if I leave her side — even for one second.” 

“If you need a break, come get me.” Minho leaned his head on top of Hyunjin’s. “I’ll watch her for you. You can trust me.” 

“Can I?” Hyunjin’s heart shattered as he sat up. “Oh my God, I didn’t —” 

“No, I get it.” Minho chuckled at Hyunjin’s pure panic. “I get it. It looks bad.” Minho sighed. “This institution is more fucked up than you know.”

“What do you know?” Hyunjin’s eyes bore into Minho’s. 

“When I first started working there, Jisung was my best friend.” Minho sighed. 

“Wait… Like your new patient Jisung?” Hyunjin’s eyes widened. 

Minho nodded. “Actually, Jisung has been my main patient for years. I took over David’s care as well because his caretaker disappeared.” Minho pursed his lips. “Jisung and I found one of our coworkers, Dr. Greg, arguing with Dr. Henry in the hallway. Dr. Greg was trying to quit and Dr. Henry told him that wasn’t an option.” Minho sighed. “Security came in and took out his knees Hyunjin. They almost beat him to death.” 

“Oh my God.” Hyunjin rested his hand on Minho’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” 

“The next week, Dr. Greg was a patient in a wheelchair.” Minho chuckled darkly. “No one fucking questioned it. Jisung and I decided that the institution was fucked up and we needed to leave.” He sighed. “We knew quitting and walking out wasn’t an option, based off what happened to Dr. Greg, so we came up with a plan to escape and we set a date to leave.” 

“Jisung found another doctor who wanted to get out of there, so he met with us a week before we left and changed up our plan a little bit.” Minho sighed. “I didn’t really trust him, and he changed our plan…” Minho trailed off. “I was afraid that he was sharing our plan with security or something. I couldn’t stop seeing flashbacks of Dr. Greg getting beat near death.” Minho’s hands shook as he grabbed Hyunjin’s forearm. “I decided I wasn’t going to go with them.” 

“You were scared you’d get killed.” Hyunjin held the boy’s hand. “That’s understandable.” 

“Jisung didn’t think so.” Minho scoffed. “He got upset and he said that he’d leave without me. I told him that was fine.” Minho started to tear up a bit. “I tried to look out for him the best I could, but when he tried to climb the gate, the guards found him.” 

“Oh, God…” Hyunjin trailed off. He knew this story wasn’t going to have a happy ending.

“I watched my best friend get beaten and I couldn’t find the courage to go help him.” Tears ran down Minho’s face. 

“No.” Hyunjin grabbed the boy’s shoulders. “Don’t you do that to yourself. If you went down there, you could have gotten killed.” 

“Even that would have been better than me standing there and watching him take all those punches.” Minho wiped the tears off his cheeks. 

“No. Don’t say shit like that.” Hyunjin pulled the boy into his chest, comforting him the best he could. “I would have been murdered the first week if I didn’t have you.” 

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah probably.” 

“So don’t say stuff like that.” Hyunjin rubbed soothing circles on Minho’s back, making the boy’s eyes drift shut. 

“You’re a natural comforter aren’t you?” Minho chuckled, trying to change the subject. “You’re good at this.” 

“I’ve had to be.” Hyunjin smiled sadly. “I used to have to do this for my mother when I was a kid…” Hyunjin trailed off. “If I didn’t, she’d lose her mind.” Hyunjin paused. “She’d get violent and hurt me…” He couldn’t find the right words. “But it wasn’t her fault. She had PTSD from the time she was raped.”

“Oh my God, Hyunjin I’m sorry.” Minho sat up, looking the younger boy in the eyes. Hyunjin looked lost, sad, and afraid. 

Hyunjin’s eyes dropped down to his lap. “I think I’m a rape baby.” 

Minho’s eyes widened. “What? No that can’t be true.” 

“There were so many signs Minho.” Hyunjin pursed his lips. “I don’t look like my father, my dad wanted nothing to do with me, my mother was afraid of me.” He scoffed. “I had to put her in a home because she tried to kill me one day.” Hyunjin leaned back against the headboard. “I must look just like him.” 

“Is that why you took this job?” Minho’s brows creased.  

“Yep,” Hyunjin mumbled. “I could work anywhere, but I couldn’t afford rent since they were all entry-level jobs.” He sighed. “This one gave me room and board and enough money to survive.” 

“Fuck.” Minho sighed. “We’re both fucked up but you take the cake.” 

“What a fucked up competition to win.” Hyunjin chuckled darkly. 

“You know you’re nothing like your father, right?” Minho rested his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “If your theory is true, you’re nothing like him.” 

Hyunjin smiled at Minho. “Thanks.” 

“Seriously. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, you care so much about others, you’re the prettiest guy on earth, and you’re super smart.” Minho tried to comfort the boy the best he could. 

“So are we going to kiss now or what?” Hyunjin burst out into a fit of giggles when Minho pushed him off the bed. 

“I try to be nice and you gotta do me dirty.” Minho crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Thank you.” Hyunjin smiled and hopped back on the bed. “Can you stay the night?” He felt awkward asking the boy to stay over, but he really didn’t want to be alone. “I feel…” 

“You don’t need to give me a reason.” Minho chuckled. “Just give me clothes to wear and I’ll stay the night.” 

Hyunjin laughed. “Just go through that dresser over there and pick out whatever you want lazy bones.” 

Minho panned through the dresser before picking a pair of shorts and a hoodie. After changing Minho plopped next to Hyunjin. “I hope you know that you’re a ray of hope in that damn hospital.” 

“Hm?” Hyunjin cocked his brow. “How so? It feels like all I’ve done is fuck everything up.”

“I always figured I’d stay at the institution until I died, but you gave me hope. After you showed up I started to think that maybe, we have a chance. Maybe we can live normal lives outside this place.” Minho sighed. “I miss my family.” 

“I bet.” Hyunjin sighed. “I’m scared too.” 

“Who said I was afraid?” Minho scoffed. 

“Your eyes.” Hyunjin laughed. “Your eyes are the windows to your soul. I can always tell how you’re feeling through your eyes.” 

“Well damn.” Minho chuckled. “That was straight-up poetic.” 

“I try.” Hyunjin shrugged. “But when it comes to Y/N, I fumble like an idiot.” 

“Oh?” Minho leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows. “Did something happen?”

“Well, she told me she loves me.” Hyunjin grinned, a light blush coating his cheeks. “I don’t think she meant it in that way though. I’m happy she trusts me.” 

Minho physically facepalmed. “You’re kidding me right?” 

“What?” Hyunjin chuckled. 

“You realize she like, love loves you right? Like, she wants to make out with you under the stars and marry your dumb-ass and live the rest of her life with you.” Minho rolled his eyes and leaned back into the headboard. “Oh my God, you seriously don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Hyunjin flushed darker. “She doesn’t love me like that.” 

Minho grabbed Hyunjin’s shoulders and shook him. “Yes, she does!” 

“Well, it doesn’t matter.” Hyunjin sighed. “I don’t love her in that way.” 

“Bullshit,” Minho smirked. “You grin like an idiot every time you talk about her. Plus, what you do for her isn’t normal.” 

“I would do those things for any patient.” Hyunjin chuckled. 

“Nope. I doubt you would.” Minho laughed. “Please just admit that you love her so Chan and I can stop trying to get you guys together.” 

“Oh my God, please tell me you haven’t —” Hyunjin groaned. 

“Yep.” Minho chuckled. “I’ve been telling her how awesome you are during my shifts.” He laughed. “I’ve hyped you up, so grow some balls and kiss her or something.” 

“It’s complicated.” Hyunjin giggled. “But thank you.” 

A comfortable silence passed, until Minho asked, “Do you want to meet Jisung?” 

Hyunjin smiled. “Of course. Can she come?”

Minho chuckled. “Yes, the love of your life can come too.” 

“Hey, she’s not the love of my life.” Hyunjin couldn’t stop the stupid grin that took over his face. 

“Mhmm. Keep telling yourself that.” Minho chuckled as he laid down, turning his back to Hyunjin. “Get some sleep so we can function tomorrow.” 

Hyunjin laid beside Minho, the feeling of the older boy’s back against his being oddly comforting. He couldn’t help but wonder if Minho was right. Did he love you? 

Yes — yes he did, but how on earth was he going to tell you? Before Hyunjin could come up with an answer, exhaustion took over, putting the boy to sleep instantly. 

[averyjarhman]

Watch "Biggie: Biggie’s Childhood Story | A&E" on YouTube

Hello. Keeping it 100% REAL, Factual And Respectful.

Does improving Race Relations in America begin with honestly addressing apparent emotional or mental health issues affecting a large population of citizens willfully ignoring or celebrating family, people and Community harming anti-social behaviors?

Antisocial Community harming behaviors that include emotionally troubled citizens peddling life harming substances to their depressed, self-harming neighbors, regardless of their emotionally troubled neighbor's AGE, physical, emotional or MATERNAL condition.

Do Medical Doctors and Child Brain Development Scientists explain why a perfectly healthy newborn named Christopher Wallace, aka Biggie Smalls or The Notorious Big, as well as many of his peers, mature into admitted or apparent emotionally troubled, depressed, angry, frustrated sometimes violent suic!dal, homicidal minded teen and adult citizens engaging in family, people and Community harming anti-social behaviors...as well as citizens largely lacking compassion, empathy and respect for their peaceful or less fortunate neighbors?

Back in the day, Tupac shared his definition for THUGLIFE >>> 

"The HATE U Give Little Infants Fvvks Everybody" ~Tupac Shakur, Childhood Trauma (ACEs) Victim

According to Medical Science, seems Tupac was 100% correct!

https://www.firststar.org/black-children-have-highest-abuse-rates/ by BlackVoiceNews

Early Brain Child Development SCIENTIST, Dr. Bruce D. Perry MD, PhD, spills the beans to Childhood Trauma (ACEs) victim Oprah Winfrey about how Childhood Trauma affects ADULT MENTAL HEALTH:

https://youtu.be/VgLwxXMXJZs/

Cali Surgeon General Dr. Nadine Burke Harris, MD, MPH, FAAP, explains Childhood Trauma, Neglect, Maltreatment and ADULT MENTAL HEALTH:

https://youtu.be/eQEFcM5NXRI/

Dr. Harris offers 'SOULutions' for ending HATE & Violence:

https://youtu.be/OMbYUfiUsco/

Before closing this writing I should mention beginning in the early 1980s I spent the first 12 years of my police career as a uniformed cop, robbery and homicide detective serving the traumatized Brooklyn, NY community where young Childhood Trauma (ACEs) victims Christopher Wallace, Lil' Kim Jones and Shawn Carter were raised, nurtured and socialized.

I look forward to reading thoughtful, intelligent replies, including solutions for reducing POVERTY...

...as well as suggestions for PREVENTING our Nation's most precious assets from SUFFERING, THRU NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN, an unhealthy childhood upbringing fraught with Pain, Struggles, Hardships, Uncertainty, Depression, Community Violence, Community FEAR, Uncertainty, Demeaning Government Handouts, Resentment, Sadness and Sorrow.

#AFRECAN >>> America's Firm Resolve to End Child Abuse & Neglect

"We need more people who care; you know what I'm saying? We need more women, mothers, fathers, we need more of that..." ~Tupac Shakur

Read Biggie's suic!dal, homicidal lyrics, keeping in mind that Glock, gat, heat and Tec are euphemisms for firearms:

https://www.azlyrics.com/n/notorious.html

Tagged:

*End Hate*

*LifeOfBiggie*

*Mental Health*

*Mental Illness*

*Parenting*

*Single Parenting*

*Spurgling*

*Maternal Responsibility*

*Parental Responsibility*

*Child Neglect*

*Child Abuse*

*Child Abandonment*

*Child Maltreatment*

*Childhood Trauma*

*Childhood Depression*

*Teen Depression*

*Teen Violence*

*Gun Violence*

*Community Violence*

*Community Mayhem*

*Community Fear*

*Community Code of Silence*

*No Snitching*

*Sadness*

SOLUTIONS?

☮️♥️🇺🇲

[written-in-flowers]

Baby Blue: Pt. 11

Summary: Jimin is royal blue. Namjoon is pure white. When they blend together, they’re baby blue.

Main pairing: Namjoon x Jimin/ Side pairings: Yoongi x Jungkook, Jin x Taehyung.

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, sugardaddy!namjoon, and sexworker!jimin

Words: 8k

Disclaimer:  These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of BTS in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

Tags: Sexual assault, mentions of sexual assault, mental illness, anxiety, Bdsm themes, light restraint, oral (giving and receiving), edging, spanking, sex toys, slight dom/sub relationship.

Please do not repost/translate/use my stories without my permission. Thank you.

Previous Chapter < Masterlist > Next Chapter 

***

“I’m so glad nothing worse happened!” Taehyung said into his sweater. “He’s done a lot of shitty things to people. It could’ve gone so badly.”

“We’re here if you want to talk about it,” Jungkook joined in, hugging his other side. 

Jimin hated thinking about it. He hated that everyone kept bringing it up. Yes, it’s still fresh news, but he’d rather forget the whole thing. He has plenty going on without this problem constantly coming up. He felt grateful not everyone seemed to know despite the publicity. If people in his classes knew, they’re masters at hiding it. Only people on his timeline sent their love and advice. He’s dumb if he thinks Harukai will face any real justice. He’s on a plane back home, where he can pay people to make this problem disappear. He might have smeared mud over the man’s name and reputation, but nothing more. A lot of people told him the harsh truth of it after his accusation. So, he might as well try moving on. Yet, it became harder once he finds himself alone. It’s why he rested on Namjoon’s bed. The man’s presence put a thick veil between him and the memories in his head. He can easily mask the memory under Namjoon’s natural scents. Ana had not changed his sheets, so the smell stayed on them. It’d been by nature to slowly undress and roll himself against the sheets. He’d wanted Namjoon to ravage him. He wanted him deep inside where nobody else will ever be. The aftercare is even better. He’d basked in Namjoon’s affection. 

He honestly did not think Namjoon capable of it. When they first met, he’d seemed so robotic and stoic. He’d lived his whole life with minimal and distant affection. Jimin liked thinking maybe he’s slowly drawing this new side out. In the end, he knows, it’s all business. But when Namjoon told him ‘I just care for you’, he knew what he actually meant. He can’t say it. Jimin wishes he’d turn around, face himself, and admit to his feelings. Why is that so difficult for him? He’d called Dr. Young while Namjoon showered. 

“He’s still adjusting to you in his life. You’ve brought on a lot of changes and a part of him is still holding onto the old him. You’ve done a lot by simply being there, Jimin. Keep being there.”

Maybe after more time passes, Namjoon will see the truth of things. Jimin knew the rule, “Don’t Fall in Love”. How can someone make up such a rule? It’s painful. Jimin knows if he said anything, Namjoon might break. Is he really that difficult to love? He pushed the thought aside and stirred the pork belly stew. “Now that I look back on it, Namjoon looked kinda hot,” he said to them. “Like those guys in action movies. He hit him like it was nothing; he dodged it then hit him again. I’d never seen that in him before.”

“He took boxing classes.”

“What?!”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nodded. “He used to take classes back in school. His therapist told him it’s a healthy way to release aggression.”

“Was he aggressive?”

“No, but I think he bottled a lot of it up. Hitting a punching bag is better than using a bully as one.”

“He never told me that.” He turned away from the stew and finished his wine. “I learn new things about him all the time.”

“Well, he’s not the biggest at sharing, is he?” Jungkook stirred the boiling ramen, then added a packet to it. “How are things going otherwise?”

“Great actually. He makes a lot of time for me lately. Today, we went out to this cute sushi place, then he took me to his favorite book store. It’s such a quaint little place.”

Namjoon enjoyed taking him to his favorite spots around the city. He seemed to know the quiet, hidden places hardly anyone goes. Jimin can’t forget how his face lit up being surrounded by books. He watched Namjoon browse, reading excerpts from each one before putting it back. He said he liked reading all kinds of books, but he sampled them for the style of writing and wording. It seemed more important that the actual genre itself. Jimin went home with a poetry book, while Namjoon returned holding a small stack. He pictured them both curled up in Namjoon’s reading corner by the fire, silently divulging into the literature while being in each other’s company. He wanted that. Yes, he liked the sex. He liked the allowance. He liked the attention, but...none of that seemed to really matter these days. 

He only really found joy when sharing it with Namjoon. 

They all sat down to dinner. The subject changed from the fight to Namjoon’s promotion. He sounded so humble about it. Getting to be President and CEO of his own building is a big deal supposedly. Namjoon assured everyone it’s not a positive promotion yet. They need to have everything in order if the change is going to happen. Jimin wished he didn’t overthink so much. Of course he will get the position. Why would this Stone person suddenly change his mind? Jimin ate quietly while listening to Jin and Namjoon talk business, then turned to Taehyung gossiping and questioning Hoseok about his newest film. Jimin talked to Yoongi and Jungkook about their upcoming trip to Paris, though he caught himself glancing to Namjoon. He looked so different. He glowed. He’d never seen Namjoon glow this way. He amazed Jimin more than before. 

“Hey, should I get you a drool bucket?” Jungkook jokes. 

“Shut up,” Jimin grinned, returning to the stew and rice in his bowl. “I was spacing out and happened to be looking in his direction.”

“Right. Anyways, how about this promotion, huh?” 

“It’s great. I’m happy for him.”

“Yeah, but the move is gonna be tough. It’s really different back in Seoul. Have you ever been? You guys should plan a trip before the move so you can get a feel for the place.”

“Wait, move? What move? Who’s moving?” 

“You guys. Jimin, he’s going to be CEO of Gemstone Seoul. He’ll have to live there if he’s going to run the company.” Jungkook chewed more of his rice before saying, “He didn’t tell you?”

“We haven’t really talked about any details.”

The news blindsided him. Naturally, Namjoon will be expected to move when the promotion goes through. It never occurred to him until now that he might part from Namjoon. He’ll either have to go or stay and find work elsewhere. Surely, the contract never mentioned anything about possible relocations or changes in Namjoon’s life. It might not even happen, he thought. The deal in Korea could fall through and Namjoon will stay in New York. He did say business is very unsteady these days, especially for a company like Gemstone that holds so many cards. Jimin pushed it from his mind until the dinner ended. The couple spent the rest of the night with their friends, drinking and laughing at stories and jokes. Everything felt right. He occasionally glanced to Namjoon beside him, wondering when the man will tell him about moving.

“You never mentioned anything about moving to Seoul,” Jimin said in the car after the dinner ended. “Why?”

“Um, uh, well, um, I’m not sure if I’ll even need to move. I...I own several businesses elsewhere and I can manage them from my desk here at home.” He shrunk into his seat as if trying to hide. “I did not want to put any ideas into your head.”

“That doesn’t matter.” He faced him in his seat, “You should have at least said something.”

“You have plenty of things going on at the moment. I did not want to add another thing to the pile.” He took Jimin’s hand, “Let’s not think on that right now. You have your show coming up in a few months and your classes; not to mention this whole thing with Harukai.” He squeezed his hand gently, “You’re not okay. I can tell. You need time to really cope and come to terms with what happened. Having sex with me is just a distraction from what’s really going on in your head. I know you’re upset about me not telling you all the facts, and I am sorry I hid that bit from you. I didn’t want to put more weight than what’s there.”

“I felt so stupid when Jungkook told me.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t his intention.”

“I know it wasn’t. It’s not his fault.”

“It’s mine.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Jimin snapped his head at the name. “‘Baby’?”

“Sorry, do you not like that name? I can call you something else. Jin says all couples have cute pet names for each other. ‘Baby’ sounded the nicest and easiest. As much as I love your name, I thought we could mix it up. If you prefer another name, I don’t-”

“-I like it.” He kissed his cheek, “It sounds nice coming from you. I think I might just forgive you,” he pecked his lips, “If you call me that when you’re making it up to me.”

“If that’s what you want,” he mumbled in another kiss. “I don’t mind it at all. As long as you keep on your collar,” he tugged on the white diamond choker Jimin wore, “The whole time.”

“Of course...Namjoonie.”

“Oh baby.”

****

Fall came in a chilly breeze and changing leaves. Jimin’s dance group continued working on their performance every other day, but Jimin spent a good portion practicing on his own. He insisted on nailing every turn and step perfectly. Namjoon worked alongside Jooheon from Korea, who helped him map out a perfect marketing structure. He told Jimin over dinner he’d need to make up a logo for Gemstone Seoul, and asked Jimin for an opinion. Jimin said it should be fresh and new, since Stone seems to favor that immensely. Namjoon stayed stumped. Everyone began preparing for Halloween, which was Jimin’s second favorite holiday. He loved decorating the apartment with pumpkins, plastic witches, and paper skeletons. Namjoon allowed it because it made Jimin happy. Jungkook and Yoongi threw their annual Halloween Costume Party where Namjoon normally made a quick appearance. This year, Jimin convinced him that not only to stay, but that they’d be cool as cyborg robots. Jimin went full out in a one piece outfit with several accessories, while Namjoon simply threw on a shirt and leather pants. Jimin bobbed for apples while Namjoon drank Hoseok’s “potion mix” of fruit punch and rum. A lot of rum. Jimin realized that night Namjoon’s dancing is worse after a few drinks. Dancing together towards the end, Jimin wanted this. He wanted fun, stupid times with Namjoon, who carefully peeled layers back in these moments. The invasive thought of the potential move inched its way to the back of his head.

Typically, Namjoon and Jimin visited their families on Thanksgiving. Jimin’s mother always made the best roasted turkey; the Kim family hosted a fabulous family gathering. This year, they chose to skip the very problematic holiday in favor of their first vacation: Seoul. Jimin took on Jungkook’s advice of visiting the city in case they chose to move. He visited family members after his mother slipped to them he’d be going. They stayed in the apartment Namjoon picked out not too far from the Han River. He showed Jimin his old school and the places he went to in his childhood. It’d been during one of their dinners that Jimin realized this might be it. Namjoon might sincerely move and Jimin will have to make a choice: Does he stay or does he go? Looking at Namjoon calmly reading a menu, he did not know if going will be easy. He liked Seoul, but his life is in New York, where he was born and raised. It’d be hard picking up all he owned and moving. What about school? What about his mother? She’d be fine if he left, but what if she needed him? He tried not thinking about it. 

December finally arrived. Namjoon and Chaewon brought in an eight foot tall tree for them all to decorate. Jimin filled the house with holiday music and decorations, turning it into a winter wonderland with fake snow, santas, and fairy lights. He’d hoped despite all the planning, Namjoon wouldn’t bring up anything about his upcoming position. He wanted the holidays to be filled with nothing but joy and cheer. Sadly, the point came all the same. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Namjoon said during their lunchtime walk. Holding a hot coffee in his hand, they stopped on a small bridge crossing from one side of the park to the other. “It’s about my promotion.”

“What is it?” 

“They’re going through with it.” His heart sunk down into his stomach. Suddenly, the cold winds became colder and not even the coffee warmed him. “The building permits, the employees and the proper paperwork are being finalized now. I’ve been spending days going through resumes for proper department heads. Jooheon has shown me the remodeling designs that the architect came up with and they’re beautiful. I don’t have an exact date since they just started reconstruction, but I’ll need to make preparations to move soon.”

“What...What does that mean for us?”

“I’m not sure. It’s why I wanted to talk to you. I will have to go there.”

“Namjoon…”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to. If it were another resort or an apartment building or anything else, I could manage it from home. But, a business like that needs the CEO around all the time. The Board of Directors will be there, and I’m the President. It looks bad if the President of a company does not at least live in the city his company is in.” He laced his fingers with Jimin’s, “I wanted to ask you: will you come with me? I know things like this aren’t easy. You’ve been to Seoul before, and it’s not like you don’t know the language or the culture. They have a lot of good dance and art schools you can go to, and you’ll still get to see Jungkook and Taehyung. Yoongi and Jin always travel back home for one reason or another. Yoongi prefers it anyways.”

“My life is here, Namjoon. Everything I know is here.”

“I understand that, but I’d like it if you came with me. I picked out a nicer apartment for us to stay in; it’s close to one of the best art schools as well as the new building. I want...I don’t…” he struggled with the words. Jimin saw them bunching up in his throat; the wheels in his head jammed at the emotions. Why is it so hard for him? “I like being with you. I want you to go, but…” he took a deep breath, “If you’d rather stay, I understand. I won’t force you to come with me.”

Jimin hated this. He hated the way his heart slowly ripped into even halfs. One half wanted to go with Namjoon, live a cozy life in Seoul where they can wake up together every day. The other refused, preferring his life at home. It’d find a way to deal with the pain; he’d eventually move on. Yet, looking up into Namjoon’s hopeful eyes, he realized that moving on will be the hardest thing in his life. Who else will care for him when he hurts himself? Who else will take time out of their day to support the things he loves? He can’t think of anyone. There’s nobody else who will treat him the way Namjoon does; that is the worst part. There’s only one Namjoon. He glanced everywhere except the man gazing down at him. A lump formed at the bottom of his throat; it grew larger the more he imagined things. 

He’d go back to his mother’s apartment; he’d think of nothing but the good times they shared together. Jimin did not know if he could handle being away from him; seeing him when he comes into town, to then have him ripped away when he leaves.They’d keep in contact through phone calls or texts, but how long will that last? What if he found someone else in Korea? It’d make sense. He’s rich and handsome. He grew jealous of this faceless person Namjoon will hold and kiss at night. They will get to see him laugh at Jin’s dad jokes; share in his accomplishments and quiet moments. They will be there for the highs and lows while Jimin is pawed at by old married men. 

“Can I think about it, please?” Jimin asked, hiding his tearful eyes by looking to the snowy ground. “You’re not going any time soon. I have a lot on my mind with the show coming up this weekend. It’s on the day before Christmas Eve, and we have that party at Tae and Jin’s house too.”

“Yes…” Namjoon’s face fell seeing the reaction. He’d hurt him by not immediately answering, but how can he expect him to? He’d spent months mulling it over, and still he did not know. It’d be wrong to say ‘yes’ then back out last minute. “Yes, of course. You don’t have to answer me now. We can talk about it another time or let me know your decision. The building won’t be ready until next year, but I’ll have to start making plans sooner than that.” They continued their walk, both men desperate to lift the awkward mood that came over them. 

By the end of the day, Jimin still did not know the answer. 

He put off answering as long as possible. He vowed to himself he’ll answer after Christmas. He won’t let the pain ruin their first Christmas together. The show is more important right now. He spent the remaining days practicing, practicing and practicing some more in the studio. He made sure to have his costume fitted in time. They’d be doing the director’s rendition of a scene from ‘The Sleeping Beauty’. It’s not set in Christmas, though their director thought it’d give a good-fee vibel. It also makes a nice break from all the christmas themed performances. He’d be playing the prince, which explained his gold and white costume. It’s one of the important roles in the piece, which means people will be watching him closely. Namjoon offered help where he could, but Jimin declined. He refused to let Namjoon see the costume when he went for the fitting; the man did not even see him rehearse. He wanted him to be completely surprised. The day of Jimin felt tingles from his fingers to his toes. He spent the entire day thinking of the incoming performance. 

Then he thought of all the things that can go wrong. He might miss a step. He might catch his partner only to them drop her by accident. The music can skip or not come in on time. The audience will certainly laugh. His coaches, directors and producers will be furious with him. In the car on the way to the theater, he sat staring into the void. His stomach suddenly turned into a boiling pot of knots and twists. He hated the feeling. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. He noticed his thick thighs. What if he gained weight? He won’t fit in his costume; he might tear a part and people will see. 

“Baby,” Namjoon called him back to reality, “You’ll do fine.”

“I can’t help thinking the worst. I should go home. If I don’t show my face, then I won’t be humiliated.”

“If you went home, you’d be letting everyone down. You need to get these ideas out of your head.” He moved closer, “Okay, so you mess up. Big deal. The audience isn’t going to know you messed up. Sure, everyone else might but not the people watching you. They’ll see what I see when I watch you dance: a storyteller. You’re not even doing the entire ballet, but they’ll know what’s going on because your body will tell them.” He pressed his lips to Jimin’s cheek, “You will be amazing. I know it. If you ever feel unsure or worried, just look for me, okay? I’ll be there for you.”

He won’t have this if he stays. If he stays, he’ll be forced to endure this anxiousness alone. Not a single client brought the comfort Namjoon did. He nuzzled Namjoon’s nose, then rested his head on his shoulder. Namjoon talked about other things besides the show; he tried getting Jimin focused elsewhere. Who else will do that for him? His mother maybe, but she won’t be allowed backstage. Nobody is. The crowds up front brought back that energy. People already began filing into the theater or making the line for tickets. Jimin thought he might throw up. In an hour or so, everyone will be watching him. Namjoon met up with Yoongi and Jungkook on the curb; both of them wished him good luck as he disappeared into the performer’s entrance. On his own, the worry slowly flooded back. However, he pushed it aside. He needed to focus. He dressed with the other male dancers, everyone excitedly talking and laughing. He noticed their nerves. A lot of the older dancers seemed almost at ease, so they shared advice and comforted the worried ones. One by one, performers were called to the wings for their number. He and his partner sat together, talking about anything but their turn coming up. It’s the both of them with other extra behind them. The director changed up the scene for timing, though kept its glamour and extravagance. People will be astounded, he said. Jimin hoped he could live up to that standard. 

“Good luck! I’m cheering for you!” a sweet message from Namjoon read. If he stays, he won’t get these. Namjoon will be miles away in an office, not in the front row watching his performance. That made him feel worse. 

“Jimin, Tanya? You guys are next. Let’s go.”

They walked to the side of the stage. Just as the last few notes of The Sugar Plum Fairy performance died out, their host came up to the center of the stage. Behind the backdrop curtain, he spotted stagehands already setting up two throne chairs as other dancers got into the places. He did not realize how many breakable props and decorations went into their performance until now. His neck gave him the urge to poke around the curtain, but he knew better. Namjoon and the others are out there in the crowd. They will see him soon. Just as the host finished announcing the next piece, the music played. A light melody befitting a luxurious ballroom, people walked around on stage in wide dresses with tall wigs. It’s a party for the prince and princess. It’s supposed to be the end when they’re finally together. Jimin forced himself to stir a form of happiness, though found it difficult. So many things popped into his head all at once. Then his cue came and his body moved into action. Coming onto the scene with Tanya, the audience clapped seeing the handsome couple together. 

He’s happy. 

He’s in love. 

He finally has the girl of his dreams in his arms. 

He thought of these things as he danced. Comely and delicate, they moved like two fish in a pond. His body moved to the music while keeping his character in check. He hardly glanced at the audience. He is not on stage; he’s in a fabulous ballroom celebrating his wedding. There are candlelight holders and the stage is draped in blue and gold. Will he get such an ending with Namjoon? No, not now. The performance comes first. They danced around one another until finally coming back together. His lift went smoothly; he pulled off all his turns and steps. The song ended to thunderous applause. It’d ended as quickly as it began and Jimin could not be happier. Finally turning to the crowd to bow, he saw Namjoon sitting between Jin and Yoongi. His friends cheered the loudest, standing and clapping while they shouted for him. His eyes met Namjoon’s behind the bright lights. He pictured that seat empty. He’d be telling him all about it, rather than him being there to see it. Namjoon will miss all his performances; he’ll never dance for him again. He shook the thought away and went backstage, reveling in the feeling with his fellow dancers. The edginess from before disappeared in the comfort of the dressing room; he only needed to wait for the end of the show. However, one thing continued creeping in the back of his mind. He wished it’d go away. 

The reminder came back after the final bows were taken and everyone shed off their costumes. “You were spectacular! I told you it’d turn out fine. Everyone loved it,” Namjoon’s message came through. Jimin tried taking in the delight, but it instantly snuffed out. “They all want to go out and celebrate with you. Where do you want to go? You can pick.”

‘Anywhere that keeps you here,’ he thought. His fingers typed out a different message, “I don’t mind. Anything sounds good right now.”

“Alright, we can pick when everyone’s together. See you soon.”

Not a single ‘I love you’ or even a heart emoji, not that Namjoon used them. He’ll never say it. He’ll never admit how he feels; if he feels anything at all really. The contract said it: ‘Do Not Fall in Love’. After the past few months, it became harder and harder to live by. Maybe it’s easier for Namjoon. Perhaps he truly does see Jimin as a friend and employee. Ugh, the word made him feel worse. In the end, Namjoon is paying him to be his boyfriend. He’s just a little sugar baby. An escort of sorts. A whore. Not the dirty talk Namjoon uses. He truly is and they all see that. He’s not fit for the life Namjoon leads. As he pulled on his clothes, he forced back his tears. The last four months are the best he’s ever had. He smiles in the morning, not because of the prospect of sex, but because Namjoon is cute sleeping. The bed is never empty when he rolls over. He’s never expected to screw every time they lay down. He brings Jimin around his friends, takes him out in public, and isn’t afraid to talk about him. He’s not a secret with Namjoon. 

He doesn’t want to be a secret again. 

“Oh my god, you were so amazing!” Taehyung tackled him first. “You’re such a beautiful dancer. I loved every second!”

“Namjoon said you were a good dancer, but he seriously understated it,” said Jungkook, hugging him right after. 

The rest congratulated him as well. Then he landed in front of Namjoon, whose smile made the world seem brighter. Does this mean he loved him? He did not know. “You’re beautiful,” he kissed Jimin softly, “I could watch you dance forever.”

He’ll never hear that if he stays. “Would I get a break in between?” he joked, hoping his glazed eyes aren’t noticeable. 

Namjoon’s smile faded into a frown. The group already began making dinner plans while they stood by the performer’s entrance. “What’s wrong? You did fantastic. You saw how loud the crowd applauded you.”

“Do you love me?”

“What?”

“Answer my question. Do you love me?”

“Why are you...what’s this...Jimin, I don’t think this is the right time. I...I, um, uh, we should maybe talk...a little later? When there aren’t dozens of people nearby wanting to congratulate and commend you?”

He doesn’t. Not a bit. That’s why he won’t say it. He’s like his father: cold and unfeeling, except he’s much better at hiding it, it seemed. “Fine,” he sniffed, “Yeah. Later. So you can avoid answering a third time.”

“Jimin…”

“Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting, like you said.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Forget it. I don’t care anyways. It’s a dumb question, so just forget I ever asked.”

“Jimin, I only mean that we should discuss our feelings in a less public place.”

“Whatever.”

Namjoon remained quiet as they slid into the car. He heard Namjoon gulp and keep his face hidden. The pressure between them laid thick and heavy, both men doing their best not to look at each other. Jimin worried if he did he might cry. He did not want Namjoon to leave. He wished the promotion never happened; then they’d always be together. Life’s never given him anything nice. He’s never had anything real before. Now that he does, something tears it away. He pushed himself through dinner. If anyone sensed the problem going on, they did not ask. He felt thankful they didn’t. Coming home, they both went their separate ways to sleep. 

His bed never felt colder. 

****

Christmas Eve. He’s supposed to be happy and excited. He’d planned out a whole day for them. They have a nice cozy breakfast together before going out for last minute gift shopping. They’d come home, slip into pajamas to snuggle more. Namjoon would make hot chocolate and treats while Jimin picked out holiday films. They’d wrap presents together, bake gingerbread cookies, and maybe make a house. No sex. No toys or whips. Nothing like that. He’d be happy simply being there. It was meant to be the perfect start to their first Christmas together. 

Instead, he’s in his sitting room alone. He’d heard the front door close hours ago; Namjoon most likely heading to the office. Why did he bother? Why should he care? It’s become obvious how Namjoon feels. He’d vowed he won’t see Namjoon for lunch. He’d go out with Jungkook and Taehyung. But then he found out they had plans of their own: Jungkook is seeing his parents; Taehyung is preparing for the party. Noon rolled around and his phone rang. He let it ring a few more times before a message popped up. 

“Can we talk, please?”

“Don’t you have a meeting or something to be at right now? You know, since that’s more important.”

“I’m not at work.”

He reread the words repeatedly before the phone rang in his hand. “What do you mean you’re not at work? Where are you?” he answered. 

“Shopping.”

“You went shopping without me?”

“I would have asked, but you seemed upset at me still. Also, I’m getting your presents. Isn’t the whole point for you not to know what I’m getting you?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, “You’re getting my presents now? Were you too busy before?”

“Will you please not do that? You know I got you your gifts ages ago.” His timid tone brought on a stab of guilt. “I saw a few more things that came out for the holidays. I thought you might like them. I want you to see that I do care about you and I want you to be happy.”

“And how long will that last before you leave?”

“You can come with me. You still haven’t told me your decision. I mean, you don’t have to right this moment. There’s plenty of time.”

“I...I...I don’t really know right now.”

“Which is fine. Can we try enjoying today? For Jin and Taehyung at least? It’d be unfair if we ruined their party with whatever this is that we’re doing.”

“I’m expected to forget how I feel because our friends might be upset by it?”

“No, I don’t mean it that way. I mean that it’s a serious conversation, and I think we should wait until after the party tonight.”

Jimin stopped, “Why after the party? Why not now?”

“Because. I think it’ll be better to do it when we’re both calm and collected without so many distractions.”

He stared suspiciously as if Namjoon stood in front of him. “Fine. I’ll let it go for now.”

“Okay. You can continue being upset if you want, but I’d still like to spend the day with you. I gave the whole office the holidays off so I have a lot of free time.”

“I’d...I’d like that too.”

“I saw the gingerbread recipe on the counter this morning,” he said. “Would you, um, maybe want to, you know, try making it? I’m not a good baker, but I think it’d be nice to do something together. I can make hot chocolate too; I got some cinnamon to put on top with whipped cream. Chaewon used to make it like that for Nari and me.” He sounded so hopeful; maybe even a tad afraid Jimin might refuse. “They’re also playing movie marathons today. I don’t know how you feel about made-for-tv movies, but some of them are actually good. We can poke fun at the bad ones too.” When Jimin did not respond, he continued, “I want you to be happy. I like it when you’re happy.”

“Because then you don’t feel like shit, right?”

“No, it’s not that. I just like seeing you happy. It makes me feel good. Is that so wrong?”

“No. No, it’s not.” He crossed his arms over his chest, “What kind of hot chocolate did you buy?”

“Godiva. Your favorite.” 

Jimin smiled. “I guess I’ll have a cup then. I also get to eat most of the gingerbreads.”

“Most?”

“The serving size is 12 cookies. I get eight. You get the rest.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Don’t whine when you get a stomach ache.”

“I won’t. You’ll be doing the whining because you won’t have as many cookies as me.”

“That’s fine. I’ll whine as much as you want.” He hesitated, “I’ll be home in a few minutes.”

“You also have to wear that apron I got you and let me take pictures.”

“That ugly elf one? Jimin, no.”

“It’s cute and you will wear it.”

He sighed deeply. “Is that all?”

Jimin smirked, “For now. I’ll think of more when you come home.”

“You’re not going to make this easy for me, will you?”

“Not this time.”

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jimin moved into the kitchen where he began taking out necessary items. Why did it matter when they talked about it? They’ll be alone for the day. They can talk about it while they baked or watched a movie. Why does the time or place matter? Jimin wondered more as he fixed the kitchen for baking. He took out the apron he’d bought Namjoon and snickered. The man hated it the second he saw it. An elf’s face covered the top part, while feet dangled at the bottom. It’s ever present smile freaked Jimin out a bit, though he’d manage. It even came with a hat. By the time he finished, he heard the front door open. 

“Namjoon,” Jimin came into the hall and saw his boyfriend carrying several shopping bags. “Isn’t this a bit much? Even I don’t get this much stuff.”

“I admit I went overboard when I was out,” he panted, putting the bags by the tree. The pile stood already a few boxes tall; Namjoon’s gifts filled more space. “I kept finding things I’d thought you like and well, it’s not like I can’t afford it.”

“Some people say you spoil me, you know.”

“Who?” he removed his scarf and coat, going to hang them by the door. 

“People. Apparently someone like me shouldn’t be wearing Puma’s newest winter line when I go jogging.”

“I can have them stop if you-”

“-It’s okay. My dance teacher says it gets me more exposure; a lot of people went to the last show.” He examined the bags, but a hand swatted at his. 

“You don’t get to open them until tomorrow morning.”

Jimin pouted, “Not even one?”

“Nope.” 

“But, you know, it’s like a tradition thing to open at least one. My family does it.”

“Your pouting isn’t going to work today. Let me get out of this and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

By the time Namjoon came back, Jimin already held up his apron. He grumbled as Jimin tied it on him, saying how ridiculous the very vibrant clothing was. He put on the hat and stood by the counter while Jimin snapped a photo. 

“Everyone’s going to think you look so cute.”

“You’re not putting that on your page, are you?” he asked, masking his worry. “People like combing through yours for information about me. Do you know how embarrassing that’d be if someone like Jiao Chen saw it?”

“Of course I’m not going to post it up. I’m sending it to mine, Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s group chat.”

“That’s even worse.”

“I know,” he smiled mischievously, tiptoeing to kiss Namjoon’s cheek. “Let’s get baking. Okay, I got out the flour…” 

Namjoon might have knocked over their dry mixture. He might have put too much salt. They might’ve free cut the gingerbread men. They may have started over once or twice, but in the end the cookies came out great. Slightly misshapen and skinny, the gingerbread tasted better than it looked. The pair began working on decorations. 

“I’m going to make you,” said Jimin, grabbing black and white icing. “A nice black suit will do for you.”

“Then I’m making you. This little one should do,” he smiled, picking the smallest of the cookie people. 

“Oh hilarious,” Jimin scoffed, hip bumping him. “I’d still be a cuter gingerbread man than you.”

“That much is true.” 

Moments like these broke his heart. They decorated each other, then began on Christmas trees, stars and Santas. Well, what Namjoon called a Santa. In the end, they sat down drinking the hot chocolate which set off the soft cookies. He liked this. He’d rarely spend time with clients this way. It’s almost as if there’s no contract. They’re two lovers sharing a nice holiday together by their tree and mountain of gifts. They watched the movies Jimin chose, sniffling at the nice ones and laughing at the bad. Whenever their lips touched, a spark of life hit his chest. Why couldn’t he stay? Why couldn’t Jimin go? His life is here. His whole world is here. But, he can’t see that world full without Namjoon. Planting a kiss on Namjoon’s dimpled cheek, he realized what a hole the man will leave behind. No amount of phone calls or texts will fill it. Finally, time came to dress for the party. They’d both decided on Christmas sweaters Namjoon picked for them. 

“This is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever worn,” Jimin chuckled, looking at himself in the mirror. 

“Jin said it was an ugly sweater party,” Namjoon came to him in his own. “My fashion sense isn’t as great as yours, which is why I chose them.”

Red and white, the green tinsel collar matched the glittery wreath and bow on his chest and stomach. Jimin toyed with the tiny bells hanging from the red velvet bow and smiled more. “That much is true. Still don’t know why you got the cool one.”

He pressed the star on Namjoon’s chest, and the Christmas tree on his lit up a moment. The snow balls and edges made of fluffy white fur, Jimin felt a bit envious. “Because I picked it,” Namjoon grinned proudly. He pressed the star a few times to see it light up. “Come on, let’s get going. Where’d I put the keys?”

“Keys? Isn’t Chaewon driving us?”

“Oh no, I give him the holidays off. He deserves it.”

“He has family here?”

Namjoon fished the keys from a nearby bowl, “Yes. His son lives upstate, so he spends the holidays there.”

Jimin smiled imagining the old man surrounded by a loving family. Perhaps one day he and Namjoon...no, that'll never happen. Not if they’re apart. Going down to the car, Jimin wondered: Will leaving really be that bad? He has family in Seoul. Cousins, aunts and uncles who will be glad to see him. He already calls his mother everyday; he can make plans to visit her every so often so he’s not away for too long. She has her own friends that she spends so much time around. He can research Korean dance schools and weigh his options. His instructor said any school would kill to have a dancer like him. In the car, he considered it more. There’d be no trouble for Jungkook and Taehyung to visit. Namjoon said Yoongi prefers Seoul over New York, so perhaps Jungkook can convince him to move. 

The best part is Namjoon will be there. 

“We’re here,” he announced, parking outside Jin’s house on the outskirts of town. Two stories with wide windows, he saw the party in full swing from outside. “They invited more people than last year.” 

“Taehyung is a popular magazine photographer and reporter. I’m sure he’d know plenty of people to fill the guestlist.” He turned to see Namjoon eyeing the windows. He grabbed his hand, “Hey, don’t worry. It’s not a huge party. There’s only a little bit more than you remember. Jin told me you never stayed long anyways, and you had no trouble at the Halloween party.”

“Because I was half drunk.”

“Then you can get half drunk again. I’m sure Hoseok’s concocted a Christmas themed drink for everyone.”

“Eggnog and liquor, but he very crudely calls it Santa’s Special Milk.”

“Ugh, he’s so gross,” laughed Jimin before sliding out of the car. 

They got out and went up to the house. “You’re finally here!” greeted Taehyung in his own hideous sweater. “You both look so cute!” he hugged them both before letting them in. “Coats go in the coat room obviously. We have food and drinks by the kitchen, and music in the living room. The rest of the guys are around here somewhere.” He then gasped, “You guys have to see the garden! Jin had the landscapers decorate it for the holidays!”

He took their hands and led them to the windows facing the backyard. It is a real winter wonderland. Snow had fallen earlier in the night, causing blankets of white snow to cover the bushes and trees. “You see,” Taehyung said, “The crew put up little areas like we’re at the North Pole. The elf workshop was my idea. Jin wanted real reindeer for people to feed by the little stables, but I told him that might be a bit much.” 

“You two certainly went all out,” noted Namjoon. 

“I saw your apartment, Namjoon,” Taehyung teased. “Jimin did the same, just way smaller.”

“Taehyung! Crystal is looking for you!”

“Oh right!” he beamed at them, “Got a photographer for the night. There’s a photobooth if you two are feeling cute tonight.” He patted them both, telling them to enjoy the party before disappearing into the crowd. 

“Get a drink?”

“Get a drink.”

Hoseok cheered upon seeing them approach his bowl of eggnog. By his lopsided smile, he’d drank plenty already. He made a comment about Jimin getting some of Namjoon’s milk later, which the younger laughed and shook his head at. Drinks in their hands, they began mingling with friends they found around the room. Jimin occasionally looked to Namjoon, who’d stood with Jin and other business buddies. He’d miss him. He’d miss him so much. He remembered every time he felt good around Namjoon. No client made him feel that way and never will. He caught other men glancing his way. Normally, he’d wink and flirt with them. Not this time. This time he only tried measuring them up to Namjoon; none of them beat him. Yet, turning back to Namjoon he saw the hesitation every time. He enjoyed their time together, though seemed okay with losing it. Did he not love him? Is everything they do simply because of the contract and not out of love? Jimin hated the damned thing. He no longer cared about the money promised or the benefits of dating such a rich man. He only wanted Namjoon...but loving Namjoon is not in that contract. 

Namjoon finally turned to see him looking and smiled, raising his cup somewhat. Then the smile faded into concern. Jimin guessed his eyes must look wet. He faced the rest of his group and drank to distract himself. The alcohol stung and burned his throat, but he drank regardless. The pain of it felt somewhat good. He finished his drink, then went back to Hoseok for more. 

“You should tell him,” the handsome actor ladled more into his cup. “Just go and fucking say something. I hate seeing you two dance around the issue so much. Just tell him what you want and if he doesn’t want it, leave.”

“I can’t leave him,” Jimin confessed, gulping the milky drink. 

“You can’t make him stay and he can’t make you go. You two better find some sort of compromise or you’ll lose each other.”

“When did you become a love expert?”

Hoseok looked at him directly. His usual cheerful amusement vanished for a serious expression. “Because I’ve been where you are now and it’s not a good feeling. Go get him before some other bitch does.”

He walked away, downing his drink but swiping a vodka bottle on his way from the kitchen. Jimin pitied him. “His name was Hoshi,” Jungkook came up behind him. “Him and Hoseok dated for years, but then Hoshi’s parents arranged a marriage for him. Hoshi could not get out of it so he and Hoseok broke up. It really...He’s right, Jimin. You two need to stop whatever the hell is going on.” 

He glanced to Namjoon, who’d begun making his way over. “I’ll go,” Jungkook said, rubbing Jimin’s back, “Just talk to him.”

“Jimin,” Namjoon reached him, bringing him to a corner of the kitchen. “What’s wrong? Did Hoseok say something to you? If he did, I’ll go and-”

“-Hoseok didn’t say anything. It’s you who won’t say anything. It’s you who wants to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave. I have to. It’s for work.”

“You’re already richer than God. Why do you need a promotion so badly?”

“Because I’ve been working for it my whole life.”

“No, because you want to impress people and make them like you.”

He’d stung him. Namjoon took a deep breath and said, “If this is about our contract, I can rewrite it so it works out for both-”

“-This isn’t about the fucking contract, Namjoon. It’s never been about that!”

He pushed passed him towards the back door. The drink warmed his cheeks and the sweater began stifling him. People noticed him leave out to the back garden the couple meticulously designed for their party. He can already read their scandalous headlines. He ignored the other couples stuffed in dark corners, most likely all over each other. He found a quiet spot by a cartoon replica of the Elves Workshop. Animatronic elves stood stationary as one built, one wrapped and one clumsily carried presents. A large Santa looked over his infamous list, twisting his body this way and that as if directing his workers. The freezing cold seeped through his cotton and fleece sweater; it cooled down his cheeks and he took in gulps of air to avoid tears. It always goes back to their business agreement. He wished he’d never signed it; he’d have managed to pay school some other way. That way he won’t know what it feels to be standing on the edge, watching your happiness fall over the cliff. 

“Jimin, you left your coat inside.” Namjoon appeared breathless beside him, holding his white coat. “You’ll freeze out here.”

“I don’t care.”

He approached when he realized Jimin won’t run again. He put the coat over Jimin's shoulders, “If it’s not about the contract, then what is it about? The move? I told you before you’re free to come with me. I...I want you to come with me.”

“Why?” Jimin faced him, teary eyes looking up at him. “Why do you want me to?”

Namjoon hesitated, “Because I like having you around. I like spending time with you. I like holding you at night and waking up to you in the morning. You make me feel good about myself. I don’t feel like complete shit when you’re around. I mean, I’m at a fucking party for Christ’s sake! I hate parties, but here I am drinking this weird eggnog cocktail and talking to people. I’ve actually skipped work, which I’ve never done not once in my entire adult life. I’ve trusted others with my projects and job; a thing I hated doing. You want to know why, Jimin? Why I’ve done all those things? For you. I’ve done all that because of you. For the first time, I’d rather spend a day inside than be stuck behind my desk. I make time out of my day to be with you because it’s like a breath of fresh air.” He breathed deeply, tears filling his eyes. “I can’t be without you. I want you to come to Seoul because I know if you don’t come I won’t get to see you dance. I won’t get to see you smile. I won’t share good times with you. I’ll be alone again and goddamnit I don’t want that. Not after meeting you.”

The entire world stopped as he spoke. Jimin tuned out the christmas songs playing through the garden. He ignored the party going on inside, and the cold now pinching him. He saw Namjoon’s heart spilling out onto the snow, hoping Jimin will pick it back up. He tried finding words, but nothing coherent came to him. 

“I wanted to wait until after the party because I wanted to give you something.” He pulled out a long envelope from his back pocket. Long and thin, Jimin wondered how he never noticed it before. “We used to open a present on Christmas Eve too.” 

He handed it to Jimin, who opened it. Inside, he found a folded letter. Unfolding it several pieces of ripped up paper fell from hid fingers. He noticed black printed letters on the shredder pieces. Although, it wasn’t the pieces that made Jimin gasp. On the piece of parchment paper in black ink read: ‘I love you, Jimin. Merry Christmas.’

"Is this…?"

"It's the contract. It's why I left so early," he said. "I shredded it at the office. I...I...I did it I guess because I don’t need them. I don’t want anything restricting us from each other. You can be in my rooms. You can watch television for as long as you want. You don’t have to tell me your movements throughout the day. You can curse and swear whenever and however much you want.” Snowflakes began falling on their cheeks, leaving patches of cold on their skin. Namjoon wiped them from Jimin’s face and kissed him again. “I love you, Jimin,” Namjoon choked out. “I love you. After today, I’m not afraid to say that to you because I know you’ll never leave me. You’re with me even if you’re not in front of me.”

Jimin flung his arms around him and their lips came together. It started hard, then grew softer the longer it went on. In those brief seconds, Jimin lost himself in Namjoon’s kiss and scent. Nothing else mattered right then. The words rang in his mind like a sweet melody. His feet finally touched the ground again, and suddenly a snowflake landed on Namjoon’s shoulder. Jimin looked up to see more of them slowly gliding down from the dark skies. Other couples began moving inside, but they stayed put. 

“I don’t want to be without you,” said Jimin, sniffing back tears. “I keep thinking about it and I realized how empty I’d be if you left. I can’t sleep without hearing you snore now. Cooking alone isn’t as fun as cooking with you. I don’t need fancy dinners or special dates. I simply enjoy being with you.  I used to think money bought happiness. I liked having lots of money and expensive things. Now though,” he brought Namjoon close, “I couldn’t care less. All that material stuff I liked: the clothes, the shoes, the rings and colognes and all that...they don’t mean anything to me. Being with you does. I love you so much.”

They kissed one more time, “And I love you. So, you’ll come with me?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll come with you.”

He loved him too much to let go.

***

Tagged: @saraisthoughts @kathrynwynterbourne @behind-the-surface @bluestars214 (if you’d like to be tagged for updates, let me know in the replies! Thanks! <3) 

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Do you have any fics where b takes care of k

This is a pretty broad question covering a variety of tropes. You should definitely check out the amnesia!Kurt,  blind!Kurt, deaf!Kurt, Dom!Blaine, mental illness!Klaine, sub!Kurt, and sick!fic tags.

Here are a few recs to get you started.

~~~~~

Hidden in the Deep by LauGS

Kurt Hummel's only concern was getting the perfect role in the perfect Broadway show. But when one night he witnesses a real nightmare, Kurt's focus shifts from saving his career to saving something much more important: his own life.

~~~~~

Everyday by whatIknew

A few days after their 2nd wedding anniversary, Kurt is in an accident and falls into a coma. Blaine struggles with the decision to let him go, and the night before they’re set to pull the plug, Kurt wakes up. One problem: He thinks it’s 2008 and that he is 14 years old. No New Directions, no Finn and Carole, and no Blaine. Blaine helps Kurt try to remember his old life while they consider starting a new one.

Read at: LJ or [PDF/EPUB]

~~~~~

I’ve Been Looking For You Forever by Chloe Winchester

Blaine Anderson is cruel, hard, unforgiving and abused, and the only thing that brings light to his life is a boy that can’t even see it.

~~~~~

All You Needed Was Me by xCaellachx

Kurt attends the all men’s college Dalton Academy in New York. He meets Blaine who happens to be a first class jerk. But when Blaine decides Kurt should be his, will Kurt be able to resist him? Kurt has a secret and when Blaine finds out, the jerk in him leaves and the protector emerges.

~~~~~

Making Friends With Shadows On My Wall by gingerkid2010

Blaine Anderson goes back to visit his ex after nine years only to find him in a mental institution with Dissociative Identity Disorder. Can Blaine help Kurt through this? Or will he lose himself in the process?  Warnings: Violence, Self harm, mentions of non-con, suicide, character death, mentions of depression and everything that entails with DID.

~~~~~

A Doctor’s Touch by capturingme

Kurt has just hit the Broadway scene. His biggest part is about to open in 2 weeks when he comes down with a cough. His friend suggests their doctor, Dr Anderson. Little does Kurt know that its really Blaine, the one night stand from weeks ago. OC included.

~~~~~

Cradled So Tenderly by BlurtItAllOut

Bros helping bros whenever their paths cross is more than alright, but how does Kurt react when Blaine is suddenly living in his city, five years after they broke up? And how will Blaine’s news affect Kurt, how will he handle this challenging time? Kurt needs to learn how to accept help offered, and Blaine needs to stop blaming himself for past mistakes. This is their journey.

~~~~~

Happy reading!

HKVoyage

[facethroughthemirror]

No Ready Cure

Chapter One

Characters: General Doyle, Locus,  Dr. Grey Relationships: One-Sided Doyle/Locus

Lovesickness in two drastically different senses of the word. One of them is hopelessly in love, and that love is slowly killing them. The other, unfortunately, can only stand by and watch the object of their own affections choke to death on flower petals not meant for them. Or can they?

Please read tags for warnings!

For day four of @rvbrarepairweek, and crossposted on ao3!

[ I know I missed Day Three I’m working on a bonus that will be up in the next two to three hours ]

"Hey, uh, has your general always had that cough?"

Agent Washington is very perceptive, she’s noticed. And of course he would have noticed the general’s persistent cough. General Doyle tries to cover it, or at least stifle it, but it’s quite obvious that he’s trying not to cough. And he always has an excuse at the ready: a dry mouth or throat, dust, simply running out of air from talking. But some of his excuses make such little sense, it truly baffles her that anyone could possibly believe them.

It occurs to her that Agent Washington is still talking, so she continues to listen. "--nds really bad, there could be mold or something causing it. If it’s mold, we have to find the source--"

"Oh, it’s not mold! Or dust! Or any other outside irritant!" she chirps, pushing some of his hair out of the way to check how the site of his most recent procedure is healing. She nods, noting the progress, and releases his hair to scribble on her note-taking datapad. “And the altitude of the outpost isn’t high enough to cause trouble for someone wearing armor with built-in life support systems -- though even if it was , he’d be acclimated by now!”

"... okay, well, is it like… is he sick?"

"It isn’t allergies, asthma, bronchitis, congestive heart failure, coronary artery disease, drug overdose, emphysema, influenza , kidney disease, pertussis, pneumonia, pneumo thorax , pulmonary edema , neurogenic or otherwise, sepsis, or tuberculosis!" Emily’s grip tightens on her notepad, and she forces the corners of her mouth up into a wider grin behind her helmet. More than a few years ago, her face would have started hurting by now. Not anymore, though, actually, her face hurts more when she’s not smiling anymore. " But ! As his condition is not immediately life-threatening, and will never be contagious, and he is my superior officer, I can’t exactly compel him to allow me to treat it! I think he's a little intimidated by the recovery period, but it’s not like my medical wing is very bus y up here!"

"... oh. Hey uh... do you like... maybe want me to talk to him? Maybe try to convince him to let you help with… whatever it is?"

"You can if you’d like , but there’s simply no convincing him, I’m afraid! I’ve tried." She swears she can feel her notepad about to crack in her hands. "Now, is there anything else, Agent Washington?"

"... uh, no, I guess that’s it."

"Then you’re free to leave now!"

He hops up from the chair and snatches up his helmet from her desk, putting it back onto his head as he rushes out. Once the door closes behind him, she drops her notepad a little too carelessly onto the desktop, and sits down a little too hard in her chair.

It seems like only yesterday that the general had stumbled into her office, finally, to see her about his coughing, though it had been a couple of years now. She’d asked her standard questions, of course, going through her standard mental checklist as she gathered supplies to start taking vitals and doing a thorough check of the symptoms. A cough is the body’s response to an irritant in the throat, airways, or lungs, she’d told him. It’s the body forcing out the irritant by pushing air out of the lungs. It can happen without an actual irritant, it happens with dry throats sometimes too. Her first instinct had been to conclusively rule out pleural effusion first, in order to make sure General Doyle’s lungs weren’t just filling with fluid. However, the cause of his coughing had become apparent as soon as he’d taken off his helmet.

She’d only seen the illness during medical school, when during the time they’d spent on it and several other pulmonary illnesses, but there was no question as to what it was as she watched a collection of spit-shiny flower petals fluttered and tumbled to the ground, shaken out of his helmet.

There’s a number of names for it, but the most accepted name for it is "hanahaki disease," or, medically, "hanahaki-type pneumafytotrophy." As opposed to mycelium-type pneumafytotrophy, which she’s always found to be a misnomer, "pneuma mykitatrophy" would be more correct, considering how words work, the fact that fungi aren’t plants, and the fact that mycelium is a specific part of the fungus rather than a category of fungus. She’s been dying to lobby for a name-change on that front, considering mycelium and fungus proper aren’t the same and technically the name should be accurate. There could be "fungal-type pneuma mykitatrophy" and "mycelium-type pneuma mykitatrophy," but the civil war has sort of prevented her from pursuing anything official in terms of experimentation or publishing.

First referenced on Earth, hanahaki disease is attributed to a region called "Japan," she believes, similar to takotsubo cardiomyopathy, which had been identified in that region over five hundred and sixty years ago, in 1990. It’s been seen in other cultures, though, particularly close to the region of origin. No one is, apparently, entirely sure when the concept originated, and it was, allegedly, thought to be a fictional illness at first, but it had been discovered to be all too real. No one is entirely certain what causes it, but the most commonly-accepted theory is that it's a rare genetic mutation, possibly hereditary, that is usually entirely harmless. However, the going theory is that prolonged exposure to the hormones and other neurotransmitters produced by the anxiety of unexpressed emotion, in this case unrequited love, trigger the mutation to activate, and produce plant-like growths inside of the lungs. Incredibly plant-like, as a matter of fact, as they include functioning roots, and petals! Those roots usually grow into, and eventually, through, the lung tissue, and the growths cause so many complications!

"Well, the good news is that this condition is very treatable!"

"‘Treatable?’ Not curable?"

"Well, the possibility of regrowth exists, of course, but it’s not common! Unfortunately, if the affections aren’t returned, or if the growths aren’t removed, the disease will eventually become fatal!"

"And there’s no adverse side effects to the surgery?"

"Well, unfortunately, there is one noteworthy side effect. Your brain will no longer register that person in the same way: you will lose all ability to feel romantically attracted to them."

She’d explained his condition to him, in no uncertain terms, had even taken a few chest scans in order to verify the diagnosis. The growths can become starved and die if the body stops producing the substances that feed them, usually through the return of the feelings that originally caused them, removing some of the neurotransmitters from the cocktail. But the sadly more common treatment is surgery to remove the growths. It was actually a very easy fix. Honestly, treating fluid in the lungs would be far more difficult. But he had declined the easier of the two fixes.

That was fine, she supposed, he was well within his rights. That wasn’t what bothered her the most about the situation. What hurt, and made her angry all at the same time, that of all people, he was risking his life for…

"Doctor."

She looks up from where she’s been holding her head in her hands, eyes locking on the hulking, black-armored form of the Federal Army’s resident mercenary. She springs her false smile back into place, even though he can’t see it, and straightens up, though she owes him no such courtesy and they both know that.

"What can I do for you , Locus?"

"I’ve received word from the general. He has made it to Armonia safely."

"Oh, excellent! You know, I’m sure he would have called me himself, though! You really didn’t need to come all the way down here!"

"I thought you would like to know.”

“Mm. Well, I appreciate it all the same! Thank you very much.”

“I will be leaving soon to join him."

"Have a safe trip, then, Locus! … you can go now!"

Locus just turns on his heel and stalks out, as silently as ever. Like a particularly irritable housecat, as the general would say… sort of. He’d never call Locus irritable, but they’re all thinking it. She knows they are.

As soon as the door shuts behind the mercenary, Emily’s poor, abused notepad whips across the room, finally cracking and shattering against the door, dropping to the ground in a hopeless pile of pieces. She merely stares in the direction of the door with her hand still partially raised from the throw, some acidic emotion that she can’t immediately identify burning at the back of her throat.

It isn’t fair . General Doyle is the only person in the world who’s ever been so nice to her. He makes her feel warm inside, like glitter is exploding inside of her. No other person has ever made her feel that way before. He’s so nice to her, he cares about her, and she cares about him! He’s so very important to her, and she doesn’t want to see him get hurt, especially not like this.

They’ve been friends for years . She’d met him back when the brigadier had first called her into his office after Doyle had gotten a splinter and fainted upon trying to pull it out. She’d pulled the splinter out for him, gotten him back upright in his chair, and even made him a cup of peppermint tea to get him back to himself and settle his stomach. She’d come back to check on him later in the day, they’d gotten dinner, chatted. He started calling her directly whenever he felt sick from then on, started asking her to get meals whenever he thought she might not have eaten for awhile. They were looking out for each other.

Years . It’s been literal years. Years of kind words and medical priority, even before his promotion to general. Years of late night quarters- and office-calls, of anxiety attacks and stress rashes and stress-induced vomiting. Of insomnia and tea at three o’clock in the morning when he wandered down to her office for anything, anything at all, to help him sleep. Monitoring blood pressure and racing heartbeats and reassuring him that he isn’t dying and he’ll be just fine in just a few moments and would he please try to take some deep breaths before he starves himself of oxygen again and passes out?

Why does it have to be Locus ? Locus has no feelings! He doesn’t talk to anyone! He clearly doesn’t care about General Doyle! He’s not worth choking to death over! She can’t let her friend do that to himself! Her friend is suffering for someone who doesn’t even notice, and that makes her so indescribably furious. The person she cares about more than anyone else is poisoning himself on such toxic emotion and it breaks her heart to see him do so without even understanding that he’s hurting himself so badly. He can’t see it, but she can.

Some days, she just wants to--

Her arm finally drops, wrist smacking against the edge of her desk on the way down with a crack that would be terrifying if it hadn’t just been the sound her armor’s impact against the well-worked surface. No. She’s a doctor. She can’t do that. And if she did, what would General Doyle think of her then? He’d hate her. He would hate her, and she can’t take that chance. And she’s sure that he would know her handiwork, or she’d be so unable to keep a secret from him that she’d blurt out what she’d done. What’s more, he’d be so upset that Locus was gone. Locus, the menace, makes him feel safe and she can’t take that away from him without being immediately able to step in and take his place.

… it’s alright. It’s alright, she’ll… just keep treating him. She’ll just keep doing her best to keep him comfortable. Maybe he’ll come to his senses and see that Locus isn’t right for him, doesn’t love him, and he’ll let her remove those filthy parasites once and for all! Then his feelings for Locus would be gone! The problem would be solved!

[arotechno]

Aromantic-Official’s Pride Month 2018 Questions!

It’s time for me to finally answer the weekly pride month questions set up by @aromantic-official! I realize it’s the last week of pride month and I’m only doing these now, but I’m a mod. So I get to break the rules. ;)

I apologize in advance, as this post is going to be a monster.

June 1-2: Pride Month Kickoff!

1. What aro pride merch do you have and/or want?

As of right now, all I’ve got is an aro bracelet that my friend made me for my birthday and a green aro ring that I got for a dollar. I would like to get my hands on an aro flag, and some pins or something... but I don’t have the money to throw at pride merch right now! Subtle merch is also good, as I’m out to precisely 3 people offline.

2. What are some of your favorite aro-friendly songs? (Feel free to make a playlist!)

Here. Or for more aro playlists besides mine, my aro jams tag.

3. What are your favorite arospec symbols?

I guess just the flag (the version that I use in my icon)? Arrow symbolism is also cool. Or, if you’re from the arocalypse crowd: papos. Although that might be a dated reference now...

(weeks 1-4 under the cut because I’m nice)

Questions for Week One (June 3-9):

1. How did you realize you were aro/arospec? How long have you known?

It was the spring of 2014, when I was a freshman in high school. For most of my life, I never really thought about or questioned my orientation. I figured I would know what I was when I felt it. But I always knew I didn’t get crushes, and figured that wasn’t weird and that I’d get them eventually... That didn’t end up happening, as you might imagine. I was never ashamed of who I was, though--not until people made me feel that way, and I realized maybe I really was different or weird. Thankfully, I had stumbled across asexuality, and consequently aromanticism (this was 2014; if you think it’s hard to find information about aromanticism outside of ace spaces now, think about how it was back then), before that point. It just didn’t really click until somewhere down the line. And even then, I waffled on aromanticism vs. asexuality for quite a bit, feeling more drawn to the ace community due to its size and its exposure, and frankly I couldn’t tell which one I was, though eventually I realized that was because I was both! It’s been several years and I’ve grown a lot, and I’ve become more in tune to my aromanticism apart from my asexuality.

2. Have you come out to anyone? Share a coming out story (coming out to yourself also counts)!

It’s funny, I was just thinking about this yesterday. I’m out as aromantic to three people irl, but I’ve never actually properly come out on my own terms. Two of my friends were peripherally involved at the time that I realized I was aromantic, so they were kind of a part of the realization and I never had to explicitly tell them that I had figured out this part of myself. The third friend came to understand my feelings about attraction before I eventually told her the words. But I’ve never had somebody in my life who presumed I was straight that I was able to explicitly decide I wanted to tell that I wasn’t.

In terms of coming out to myself, it took me about a year after realizing I was aroace to say the words out loud to myself. Sophomore year of high school was when I really began to fully accept that this was who I am and that I could say it and be proud of it, rather than it just being a peripheral aspect of my life that I had to pretend didn’t affect me (because we’re so often taught that we’re supposed to be just like everyone else despite our sexuality, but I have always felt that it made me explicitly not like everyone else, and that was the problem). So I said to myself, in the mirror, “I’m aromantic and asexual.” And I started writing it in my journal. At this point, I was in a weird place where I wasn’t even sure my two closest friends knew I was aroace and that it wasn’t just something I had speculated. It took me until the end of that school year to start using the word not only to myself, but to them as well. Even now, I still talk circles around it sometimes. Internalized aphobia is a real pain in the ass.

3. How/Why is your aromanticism important to you/your identity?

My aromanticism shapes how I see the world in a lot of ways. It affects me every day of my life. It influences my views on philosophy, relationships, my experiences with gender... I can’t relate to the majority of the world’s population on such a basic level that I’m often left wondering what my place in the world is and feeling like I’m living in a different universe altogether. It’s frustrating, but it can also be exciting. I’m proud of the way being aromantic has shaped me. I think the ways I view the world make sense, and being aromantic has a lot to do with it.

I consider myself to be an existentialist, and accepting that my emotional wants, needs, and experiences didn’t line up with the marriage/kids/white picket fence narrative that I was always expected to follow really helped me realize that if I don’t have to follow that narrative, then I don’t have to follow any narrative at all. I can do whatever I want with my life, and there’s no cosmic reason for me to do anything else. That’s voidpunk, baby.

4. What are some misconceptions about aromanticism that bother you?

That we’re heartless. That we don’t feel less emotions/weaker emotions than alloromantic people, or generally equating romance with emotions. That we need a QPR or other type of non-romantic partnership to fill a void where romantic relationships “should be.” That aromanticism must modify or be secondary to one’s sexual orientation. That we don’t risk being dehumanized or cut off from people around us when we come out. Arophobia in general.

5. What’s something you like about being aro/arospec? Something you dislike?

I love the arospec community first and foremost, and as I mentioned above I love the way aromanticism shapes my view of the world. I love that the aro community, though we are stereotyped as being heartless, is so full of love and compassion for one another that we can’t even argue with each other, we just have pleasant, generally civil discussions and often end up reaching mutual conclusions. I love that I can make this entire long-winded post about my experiences and not only will people read it, but they’ll appreciate it and respect it.

I hate not being understood. I hate the fact that I don’t want to come out because I’m afraid I’ll have to give an emotionally taxing vocab lesson and/or be dismissed or ridiculed and/or be called a heartless monster. I hate that we don’t have any mainstream representation that doesn’t get ripped from our hands by people who claim we do not deserve it. I hate that there are no aromantic role models in the public eye living happy lives for us to look up to; but then again, I have a secret fondness for being part of a generation that future aromantics will be able to look up to.

Questions for Week Two (June 10-16):

1. What aro-spectrum labels, terms, descriptors, and identities do you identify with?

I identify as aromantic. I also use nonamorous as a descriptor a lot of the time. That’s pretty much it. The term arogender kind of speaks to me in a way (I was there when it was coined!), as my experience with gender does feel influenced by my aromanticism, but I don’t know that I’m particularly inclined to use it for myself. I like to keep things simple, I guess.

2. Talk about other aspects of your identity that are important to you, that are meaningful parts of you like your aromanticism, such as ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender, neurodivergence, mental illness, chronic illness, disabilities, etc.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m asexual as well as being aromantic. They kind of go hand-in-hand for me, but I’m much more open about being asexual if only because it’s more commonly understood and accepted. Several years ago, I was much more connected to the ace community than the aro community, but in the last couple of years that dynamic has completely flip-flopped. I feel more at home in the aromantic community, as the ace community often feels to me more focused on navigating romantic relationships while asexual, and as an aromantic I really don’t find any solace in that. The ace community has also thrown me and my aro and aroace siblings under the bus multiple times, which often makes me feel unwelcome, unfortunately.

3. How do other aspects of your identity intersect with or affect your aromanticism?

Other aspects of my identity don’t affect my aromanticism that much. On the contrary, my aromanticism affects my gender. I identify primarily as a cis female, but even saying I identify that way feels too strong, as it’s a pretty loose identification. Because of the ways in which misogyny, heteronormativity, and amatonormativity intersect, so much of traditional womanhood is based around finding romance, 99% of the time with a man. There isn’t really a subversive narrative for aro women. And femininity often feels like a costume designed to make me appear straight and allo and proper and headed for marriage. tl;dr gender machine broke.

4. Have any of your identities impacted you realizing you were aromantic, your questioning process, or coming to terms with it?

If you want to get obvious, asexuality directly helped me realize I was aromantic in that I would not have known that aromanticism existed without it. So thanks, ace community. You did do me a solid at one point or another.

Questions for Week Three (June 17-23):

1. What is your favorite aspect of the aro and arospec community?

I mentioned this earlier: I love how open, inclusive, accepting, and willing to have civil and productive discussion the aro community is. The aro community has also given me basically everything, especially the arocalypse gang (hi, guys). Without a community behind me, this blog would not exist, and I would feel devastatingly alone.

2. Are there any notable differences in your experiences in this community and other LGBTQIA+ spaces you have been in?

In general, compared to larger LGBTQIA+ spaces, the aro community on tumblr is obviously a lot smaller and more tight knit, which makes for an inherently different environment. Smaller voices somehow still speak so loud. That’s symptomatic of its size more than anything, and I haven’t been active in enough larger spaces to say much else.

The only other specific LGBTQIA+ spaces I’ve been in are asexual ones, and while there is some overlap between the two, aromantic spaces feel much more inclusive to me. Though that is likely due to the fact that asexual spaces do still put a focus on romance, while aromantic spaces certainly wouldn’t. The aromantic community is one of a kind and an absolute treasure, I guess is what I’m trying to say.

3. What’s one way that the aro community could be better or more inclusive? Do you have any tips on improving in this regard?

I think the aro community could take further steps to improve accessibility (I mean, look at me, I’m writing out this long-ass monster of a post. I’m part of the problem.). But I don’t really have any tips, considering I just broke one of my own suggestions... Don’t listen to me, I’ve got no idea what I’m talking about.

4. Do you think there are flaws in the way that different types of attractions are navigated, discussed, and defined in the aro community?

Yes. I talk about this from time to time on here... This is probably a hot take, but to me, defining types of attraction too rigidly, while it is helpful for tons of people, can often lead to an accidental hierarchy of types of attraction or relationships. For example, putting alterous attraction over platonic attraction, or queerplatonic relationships over more traditional platonic ones. I’m not saying anyone does this, at least not on purpose, but I think it’s at least a potential issue.

5. Do you consider yourself nonamorous, amorous, aplatonic, experiencing queerplatonic attraction, etc., or do you not use those terms? Are you romance positive, neutral, repulsed, or don’t use those labels? Do these answers intersect?

I’m nonamorous and romance repulsed. I’m not sure if they intersect, to be honest.

6. Have you ever been in a relationship you would consider committed, such as a queerplatonic/quasiplatonic, romantic, soft romo, friends-with-benefits, or others? How did being arospec affect that and the boundaries you set?

Nope. Again, nonamorous.

Questions for Week Four (June 24-30):

1. Have you ever participated in any pride events, such as parades and festivals? If so, do you feel welcome at these events? If not, would you want to go?

I haven’t. I would go, but I don’t really know how welcome I feel... And I’d need to go without being suspicious, which is pretty much impossible.

2. Do you celebrate pride month? If so, how do you celebrate? If not, why?

Hell, I’m doing it right now! I’ve been working on these questions with the other mods all month. Thaaaat’s about it, as there isn’t much to do around me except for go to pride, and I already explained why that was off the table.

3. Do you have any creative contributions to the aro community (art, comics, writing, moodboards, music, zines, informational posts, etc.)? Which do you like making the most? If you instead support aro creatives, what category of aro creations do you like best?

Hi, yeah, this blog. Shoutout to any of my followers who have been here since last year when all I posted on this blog was my writing... I guess you got more than you signed up for.

I write primarily short fiction for the aro community. I take soulmate prompts and spin them to be aromantic, and usually sad. Soulmates are a concept I hate with all my cold aro heart, so starting this blog was a mean of reclaiming that idea and making it a little less painful for myself and hopefully other aros. I’ve posted about this a thousand times, so I won’t go into more detail.

4. How do you feel aro creatives have impacted the community? Show some love to your favorite aro creators by @’ing them in this post and reblogging a bunch of their stuff. If you don’t have any favorites, now is a good opportunity to find a few!

Without aro creatives, we would have pretty much 0 content in general, as no one else seems to care about creating anything for us. @aroworlds is doing amazing work not only creating wonderful aro content but connecting other aro creators with one another and spreading the word. @aroacearborvitae makes moodboards and edits that brighten my day every time I see them. @arotryinghisbest is writing a novel if you want to go show him your support!

5. Is representation in mainstream media important to you? What about smaller, niche media? If so, why, and in what form would you like it to take?

Both are important, but for different reasons. I’m so thirsty for mainstream aromantic content that I would sell my soul for just one canon aromantic character on television. We need visibility, and we need people to know that we’re out here and that we exist and that we’re not broken or messed up or lying. But niche media is also important, as it often supports aromantic creators directly, and supporting small creators and media outlets is really important. Niche media can even sometimes be a gateway into mainstream media, if it picks up enough steam. Give me aro characters, please!

And that’s that. If you made it this far, congratulations, and thank you. Happy pride month! See you in the future when I hopefully start posting some more actual content...

[under-snow-vixen]

Yuletide Letter

hi author! i’m vixen - UnderSnowVixen on Ao3. this’ll be my first yuletide :0

i like worldbuilding, especially around religion, government, and language; religion in general; change in government over time; character studies; explorations of close relationships; post-canon settings; canon divergence; crossovers, especially characters from one canon visiting or joining another canon; gender weirdness and exploration; POV outsider, especially with OC POV; Epistolary fics, especially through paperwork or (transcripts of) broadcast media; unusual formats in general; paperwork in general; political or legal comedy; fluff and comfort; temporary death/revival; travel, especially vagrancy or space travel; finding home in another; hope in the face of doom, be it futile or successful; complicated politesse; memory and its fallibility; storytelling; immortality and all that come with it, especially the gender of immortals; ensemble pieces; growing apart and fighting or accepting that; place-as-character; haunted, wrong, or angry places; liminal spaces; play and joy in terrible times; exploration of inhumanity, real or perceived; what it means to be a “good person” and worries over that; morality; conversations about music and art; prairies, forests, and lakes; things that live in those places, be it human, animal, or other; explorations of advancements in technology and how that affects personal lives; color and light; fables and fairytales, especially those that aren’t as well known; being trapped by snow or other weather; beauty in imperfection; existentialism; and what death means in different cultures

you can write your fic in french if you’d prefer!

DNW for all canons: works that would be tagged Explicit for any reason (mature is fine); references to COVID (other illnesses or even pandemics, even real, are fine); human, no power, highschool, or modern AUs; gender bending without trans readings; crossovers with RPF fandoms; bad endings; or podfic

Kino no Tabi | Kino's Journey - Keiichi Sigsawa (Kino & Hermes) : i love this canon for two big reasons: one is the exploration of cultures or individuals from an outsider’s point of view, and the other is the exploration of gender and identity through various cultures or personal lives. this is also a very existentialist canon, which i adore.

Kino no Tabi lends itself well to two of my favorite things: crossover - i’d pretty much read any crossover with it, even if i’d never even heard of the other fandom! - and outsider POV. Kino is a perfect outsider POV character, but often an outsider’s perspective on Kino can be more interesting. what does your favorite world think of vagrancy? what would Kino think of that world in turn? alternatively, make up an entirely new country for them to visit. a lot of canon countries are based on fables or psychology or philosophy problems, but they can be based on pretty much anything! as long as it’s something different for Kino to see i’ll be happy with it!

Kino is often read as nonbinary and i personally headcanon Hermes to be nonbinary too, but Kino and Hermes have never come across another nonbinary person in their travels. What would their time in a country that explicitly recognizes nonbinary people be like?

any pronouns are fine for Kino, play up the confusion! please do not use it/its pronouns for Hermes though, even from characters who wouldn’t know better. anything else is fine. no ships with Kino, please, Kino is transient. ships without Kino are fine, but of course shouldn’t be the focus.

Dr Cataclysm (Webcomic) (Agrippa & Melon) : if youre here for a different canon and haven’t read this... do so. its pretty short and its free. it’s also by the guy who made Off if that’s a drawing point. find it here.

give me some wholesome found family slice of life and i’ll love you forever. agrippa and melon need a break!! give them a nice dinner or something!! i don’t super ship but tossing in some agrippa/crocodile could be fun. or everyone!! just have agrippa and melon host everyone for a nice dinner. janos can be there as long as he’s chill.

alternatively... that last issue sure is somethin huh. what do you think happened? a where-are-they-now would be fun. i have my ideas, but what are yours?

if the crocodile girl shows up, don’t hurt her!!! she’s just a sick little girl she doesn’t need more stress :(

Moon Knight (Comics) (Marc Spector) : marc :( i love him but hes had such a hard time! (especially lately!!!) you could give him a nice day :) he’s honestly pretty chill despite all the uh... divine annoyances and mercenary tendencies, i’m sure there’s a few people he could just hang out and enjoy company with.

orrrr you could... make his day worse? :))) so many people hate this man, half the time he’s on a team he’s belittled constantly. what’s that like? i love ensemble pieces, if you stick him on a team or with a couple loners and explore their relationship that would be fun. what do people marc works with think of Khonshu? i’m a big fan of suprise revivals, and marc dies... so often.

marc is also really fun to shove into crossovers, and has a built-in excuse for it with Khonshu! part of his whole deal is he 1. is adaptable and 2. just Does Not Give Up. this means he will survive in any world you stick him in or die trying. and then get up and keep trying.

my favorite runs are v2 (1985) and v5 (2015-16) (the first half of v5 is really good), as well as his time with the WCA and the Secret Avengers. i also really liked contagion and conan serpent war despite their... debatable canon. i don’t really know what’s going on with the most recent avengers run.

don’t be weird about his mental illnesses. if you write Khonshu, i like Khonshu-as-God 10000% more than Khonshu-as-delusion and he should be an asshole, but in a lot of the more recent comics he’s just cruel which is :(. please keep to the asshole god side of things as opposed to a cruel god. the 2019 annual and conan serpent war have my favorite Khonshu characterizations. My Explicit-rating ban is lifted for this canon, but only for extreme violence and death.

Nuclear Throne (Video Game) (Yung Venus) : what’s his deal?? he’s a really comical character and probably has the least Bad Stuff going on with him in canon, but he’s still a god of money of all things. what does that mean in a world where currency is extinct? what does being a gun god mean when everyone has guns? is he revered or ignored? i’d love a more serious exploration of YV-as-god, or of his relationships with the rest of those around the campfire.

pretty much anything goes for this canon. mind the general DNWs. My Explicit-rating ban is lifted for this canon, but only for extreme violence and death.

Pyre (Video Game) (any) : while i love the characters of Pyre, what i love more is the world. what were the Scribes like, and what do people think of them now? we know that the Triumvirates were only a tiny portion of the Downside population, what are the rest of them like?

If you’re more partial to the characters, great! i love them all! (or at least all of those who were nominated this year!!) slice of life or post-canon political comedy is the way to go. give me a missing scene from the time spent on Mount Alodiel, or show me how the new government is handling things. depending on who made it up, they either have a lot of experience or none at all!

please feel free to play around with end conditions, but one i’m fond of (and the one i got my first time through) is to liberate Hedwyn, Jodariel, Rukey, Fae, Ti'zo, Pametha, and Oralech, while sir Gilman, Volfred, Bertrude, all non-Nightwings, and the Reader(+Sandra) remain. i tend to use Fae, Mae, or Gae for the moontouched girl but any name is good! i also tend to not give my Readers names, but if you’d like to go right ahead :)

please nothing with Manley, Lendel, or Brighton unless it’s an ensemble piece. no jodariel/ignarius.

thank you !!!!

[piyushch-blog]

While Joan is aware that she has mental issues, she rejects the idea. Not because she doesn’t believe mental illnesses are real (they are very real, she knows from experience), but because she sees herself as part of a group that did what it did because she was “bored” and “spoiled” and “in need of new entertainment” (tropes all commonly associated with wealthy individuals, which she wasn’t the time she started taking drugs). She gives herself this label because the people she frequented were actually like that, and by integrating in their “groups”, she ended up acquiring the same tags.

Just recently has she become familiar with mental illnesses outside of anorexia, and while she does see that some cases are very similar to how she feels, she denies that she might suffer from them because she feels like she should just keep shut about the damages she’s done to herself. While it doesn’t fix the problem, she thinks it’s better that way, as from her POV she doesn’t see any other reasons other than desperation and need for attention that pushed her to get into the wrong clubs.

Of course, this isn’t all entirely true. Her attitude (and her dog’s death, which really did affect her a lot) was influenced by her parents’ not exactly excellent parenting, as they did often not let her speak for herself, even thought they did not exactly make her do extremely uncomfortable things. Joan has been since an early age used to keeping her words to herself, not speaking up and not saying a thing because she wasn’t outrightedly asked (this was how it worked at home)---this includes opinions, emotions, and problems. She doesn’t know, or rather, she doesn’t aknowledge this because she sees her parents through rose colored glasses, in hopes they do the same with her aswell.

She is part of the problem, as buying drugs or in general supporting drug traffic is a very bad thing to do (to yourself and to others among you and around the world), but even with the realization she decided to not be part of it anymore, she considers herself the problem. Or rather, a problem, but still a problem that doesn’t deserve a second chance. Obviously this affects her stance about mental illnesses in relation to her own person; she disregards them possibily being real, as she believes trying to live with them in an healthier way wouldn’t be right. Some might say that she’s fixated with “punishing” herself for what she did by letting the drugs side effects and her self-deprecation beat her up from the inside out, and it would be a very spot-on analysis.

TL;DR girl needs some serious help, both medical and mental, but won’t get it because she’s obsessed with torturing herself as she is not courageous enough to resort to harsher means. She prefers living life the hard way because she doesn’t think she’s worthy to get a new life, not taking care of her drug side effects, her struggles with a still-there anorexia and an incorrect moral, psychological and mental mindset. Also still thinks her parents did absolutely nothing wrong even though they disowned her.

[windwardstar]

@owlwithbigeyes20 @embarrassingwriter (Tagging you both because I’m replying to both your things.)

First off, autism is a disability. Full stop.

As for my post, embarrassingwriter was correct in that my post was about how most disability narratives either focus on curing a disabled character or go on about how disabled lives aren’t worth living or straight up kill the disabled characters. (There’s also the whole thing where the vast majority of the visibly disabled characters are villains, but that’s only tangentially related to this.)

My post was about saying that disabled characters deserve to exist in fiction as disabled characters. Where their stories don’t revolve around having to be cured or getting cured as a reward for being good while evil characters are maimed and disfigured or mentally ill as part of being evil.

My post was about disabled people being represented in stories as disabled people. And about how disabled lives are devalued in real life and in media.

And the fact that the vast majority of stories written about disabled characters are written by abled people and are dripping with ableism.

A story that is #ownvoices about a disabled character being cured of their disability by an author who shares the disability is very different than a story where a disabled character is cured that is written by an abled author.

There is absolutely room for stories about disability and cures, especially as we make breakthroughs in science and engineering and medicine. But those stories need to be told by the people who are affected by them, who have the authority to speak on them because they have the lived experiences.

Cure narratives written by abled people are overdone and 99% of the time ableist.

(See the entire cure rhetoric regarding autism. There are members of the community who do want it, but the vast majority of us don’t want it. Because “curing” autism either means rewiring our brains to change who we are or aborting us before we can even be born like with what is happening with Down Syndrome. )

As for those questions about what should we cure, where do we draw the line of what constitutes a disability, all of those are important discussions. But again, they’re also ones where the people who have the disability should be the ones speaking and everyone else should listen.

(A pretty common guess at least in regards to autism, is if there is a cure even if it is “voluntary” that it will be forced on people bc “well, why should you get accommodations, there’s a cure for that.”  So I think disability will become more restrictive the more we learn how to “cure” it, simply because if a cure exists, the person now has a choice, and again, disabled lives are still devalued in society and fiction, which means if you take a disabled person who doesn’t want to take a cure, vs a disabled person who is cured, society is going to always pick the non-disabled person every time.)

As to how integral a disability is to who a person is? Well, find a few disabled people. We have a tendency to have society define us by our disabilities. And as a result, many of us have our disabilities as an integral part of out identities. I am a physically and mentally disabled person as much as I am queer or a writer.

I once used the puzzle piece (fuck autism $peaks) as a way to describe being autistic. But instead of autism being a puzzle that needs to be figured out or are missing a piece, I’m an entire puzzle. And like how a puzzle is made up of hundreds of pieces with a dozen different colors, I am made up of a dozen different identities and each one of them is spread out like a rainbow across every piece. You can’t remove a color or a disability without changing the puzzle or the person.

So, where is the line of what should be cured and shouldn’t? It’s drawn where the communities affected by each specific disability draw it. Not where abled people do.

TL;DR this post was directed at abled audiences who devalue disabled lives and characters and where being cured or killed are the only two options for most disabled characters.

The narratives surrounding a cure belong to the disabled authors. It is an #ownvoices matter. And the discussion on what should and should not be cured belongs in the disabled communities. (If you want to listen, those conversations are already going on.)

Disability in fiction does not exist to be cured.

[troy100bellamy]

Let's Talk

I don't know what significance today has in other countries, but here in Canada, one of the major phone, internet and satellite service companies, Bell, is campaigning with the slogan "Let's Talk". The purpose of "Bell Let's Talk" is to bring awareness to the stigma that mental illness has, and they donate 5 cents per text sent today by any Bell cell phone customer, which is pretty cool. While I know Bell itself isn't a perfect company for this, they've been hosting this awareness day for years, and I finally wanted to speak out about my experiences. (This might definitely be triggering to people, but I feel like it's important, so I've put any trigger warnings I can think of in the tags and I'll put this in a read-more)

I'm a 21 year old university student in my third year. That might not seem strange to most people, but here, I'm a year behind everyone else. I chose to take a fifth year of high school because I struggled so much throughout high school with my mental health. My struggles started to peak in my grade10 year, when the day before classes started, one of the athletes at my high school killed himself. Two weeks later, his best friend also killed himself, the reason being he blamed himself for not being there for his friend in a time of need. This was the first time suicide had ever directly impacted my life, and that was when my struggles really began. It was almost like I now knew that suicide was an option, that I had a way out, and I couldn't get that lingering thought out of my head.

I started self harming to try to get the impulse out. I would feel like my thoughts weren't my own, and they were overtaking me, and the only way for me to regain control was to bring myself back to reality. I would repeatedly rub a leather belt along the back of my neck, resulting in a burn, and that was my way of making it too painful to try to hang myself. During this time, my best friend had figured out that I was struggling, and tried her best to help me, but it was really difficult when I was in my own world and could pace back and forth or curl into a ball for hours, unable to speak or even be aware of my surroundings.

I tried for the first time on March 10th 2011. I remember it clearly, because my best friend made the brave decision to go to the school guidance counsellor and tell him that I wasn't safe. My father showed up and brought me straight to the hospital, because I'd been deemed a danger to myself. Unfortunately, the crisis counsellor on site didn't see it that way, and after talking to me for half an hour sent me home, writing in my file that I wasn't serious enough about my intent to actually go through with it.

Of course, this only made things worse. My symptoms got worse, my relationship with my best friend got worse, and a year from then, we weren't even on speaking terms anymore. I couldn't figure out why I pushed people away, why my thoughts weren't my own, why I was too depressed to do anything but too anxious to do nothing. I struggled through grade11, and my marks clearly suffered.

By the beginning of grade12, I had new friends, had opened up enough to my parents to be seeing a new counsellor in the hospital. I was on a psychosis medication, and had intermittently had to spend a couple days in the local hospital when I was a danger to myself, I had no official diagnosis, only "very anxious with auditory hallucinations". However, one of the doctors in the hospital had often loomed the diagnosis of schizophrenic over my head, and I was desperate to escape it.

I could only handle being in school for half days, and would always get too overwhelmed and anxious to go to my afternoon classes. My marks suffered, my relationships with my friends and parents suffered, and the solution was to pump me full of higher doses with greater side effects. When the local hospital didn't know what to do with me anymore, they suggested that I transfer to a better suited hospital in a city nearby. I was nervous but happy to go, hoping to finally have found a solution so I could leave this part of my life behind me.

Long story short, that's not what happened. I was forced to stop taking any medications cold turkey, was only seen twice in a four week span by the doctors who were supposed to see me daily, and had my self-esteem destroyed by the on-staff nurses who made awful comments about my body. I started self harming again, peeling the skin on my arm until it left a pool of blood on my bedroom floor, and was never given any proper medical care (not even a band-aid).

When I left, the doctors told my parents that they believed if I hadn’t told anybody, that my symptoms would go away on their own, and never would have started in the first place if I wasn’t seeking attention. I was crushed, but even after leaving, all I wanted was to go back, where I didn’t have to face the real world. I took that anger and insecurity out on my friends, and ended up losing all of them in the process.

I had to stay for a fifth year of high school because my marks slipped so far. I still struggled that year, but I felt like I couldn’t talk about it, because my diagnosis was “attention seeker”. I continued self harming to try to deal with the pain, and stayed distant from anyone who tried to get close to me. Heading into university, I was getting better at coping on my own, but still self harmed and struggled almost every night with the voices that weren’t my own, telling me things I never wanted to hear.

To this day, I still struggle with it. I’ve gotten much better at coping with my symptoms, and I’ve been clean for over a year.

Now to the point, a tl;dr of sorts. Mental illness hurts. It hurt me and everybody around me. Relationships with wonderful people were shattered because I couldn’t talk to them openly about what was happening to me, for fear that they wouldn’t understand.

So let’s talk. But also, let’s listen. People suffer through mental illnesses every day. I’m one of them. And I’m sure almost all, if not all, of your lives have been affected by mental illness, either from you or someone close to you. I want talking about my experiences to be something I’m not afraid to do, but I’m still shaking while I click post.

If anyone ever needs to talk, please message me. About anything. I don’t care whether you’re struggling through a diagnosed mental illness or you’re just really having a bad day. I’m here to talk, and I’m here to listen.

[billgsoto]

Pesticides found in human breastmilk

Photo credit: Raissa Ruschel

A study has found persistent pesticides in human breastmilk for a high percentage of women.  The researchers examined 40 women in Western Australia during the first year of lactation, and tested for 88 persistent organic pollutants. They found levels of DDE, a breakdown product of DDT, in 87.5 percent of their samples, with an average concentration of 62.8 ± 54.5 ng/g fat.  On a positive note, they did not detect organophosphates, carbamates or pyrethroids, and babies did not experience negative growth outcomes such as lowered weight, length, head circumference and percentage fat mass.  However, noting that several other studies have shown negative associations with pesticide concentrations in maternal milk, the authors recommended that consumers should avoid exposure to pesticides when possible.

from Blog – The Organic Center http://ift.tt/2qXSNn9

from Grow your own http://ift.tt/2rRMIc6

[averyjarhman]

Hello. With all respect and sincerity I am curious to learn how many, if any, of my American or foreign born neighbors believe the late popular American urban story-TRUTH-teller and 'Childhood Trauma' (#ACEs) victim Tupac Shakur's #T_H_U_G_L_I_F_E Child Abuse and Emotional Maltreatment *AWARENESS* concept offers a reasonable explanation for why significant numbers of American children are being impeded, hampered or prevented from maturing into reasonably responsible, well-adjusted American teen and adult citizens who become doctors, scientists, engineers, business owners, educators and leaders?

"The Hate U Give Little Infants Fvvks *EVERYONE*" ~Tupac Shakur

"We need more people who care; you know what I'm saying? We need more women, mothers, fathers, we need more of that..." ~Tupac Shakur

Does Tupac offer a reasonably intelligent explanation for why Americans of African descent are being impeded from experiencing the equality and respect all peaceful, reasonably responsible Americans are entitled to enjoy?

Tupac, an admitted emotionally ill adult who loudly spoke about experiencing childhood abuse and maltreatment during a critical period of human/childhood development, intelligently recognized not only are American kids being UNJUSTLY OPPRESSED, IMPEDED and DEPRIVED from experiencing their full human potential, as well as a SAFE, fairly or wonderfully happy American kid childhood...

...Tupac realized OUR NATION is being deprived of enjoying the potential achievements offered to ALL Americans by fairly or wonderfully happy kids maturing into reasonably responsible teens and adults caring about the future of OUR Nation, and the welfare of their peaceful, as well as less fortunate neighbors.

I believe Tupac correctly recognized Americans need to change the name of our “War On Poverty”, to “America’s Firm Resolve to End Childhood Abuse, Emotional Neglect and Maltreatment.”

Unlike Mr. Barack “My Brother’s Keeper” Obama and his presidential predecessors, I am hopeful Renegade Republican Donald Trump will recognize improving the Quality of Life for our black or American neighbors of African descent begins with addressing HEALTH issues related to proper childhood care and environments.

I believe Mr. Trump should take meaningful ACTION to protect from harm our Nation's most precious and cherished assets by placing an emphasis on EDUCATION about proper child care, as well as stepping up enforcement of Child Safety & Protection laws which will eventually lead to fewer depressed, unhappy, emotionally neglected/abandoned American kids...

...maturing into angry, frustrated teens and young adults full or half full of rage and resentment for IRRESPONSIBLY and THROUGH NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN, being introduced to an emotionally and/or physically abusive childhood fraught with pain, struggles, torment, uncertainty, frustration, FEAR, demeaning government handouts, resentment, depression, sorrow, sadness, disappointment and hardships. :Childhood Trauma!:

Unfortunately, before he developed the confidence to properly promote his #T_H_U_G_L_I_F_E Child Abuse *AWARENESS* concept, Tupac was brutally murdered by OTHER emotionally or mentally ill victims of America's Culture of African American Child Abuse, Neglect and Emotional Maltreatment evolving from America's multi-generational, ignorant, once legal Culture of Racism. ___ Not only I am asking Mr. Trump to take meaningful ACTION protecting and preventing American kids from experiencing a potentially life-scarring, traumatic childhood...

...I am asking my American neighbors to RECOGNIZE and embrace the fact our imperfect human species will continue evolving, learning day by day about our human condition and physical world, slowly shedding our human ignorance and adapting as we continue plodding along trying to improve the Quality of Life for all human beings! ___ My friends, during the 80s-90s I spent the first twelve years of my police career as a uniform cop, robbery and death investigator serving *young* 'Childhood Trauma' (#ACEs) victims Shawn Carter and Christopher Wallace's Brooklyn, NY neighborhoods, where regularly I witnessed significant numbers of newborns, infants, toddlers, children and teens, THROUGH NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN, experiencing a potentially life-scarring medical Disease/Condition known to medical doctors and researchers as "Childhood Trauma."

"Childhood Trauma" (ACEs) is a REAL Disease/Condition affecting far too many American kids and teens who far too often develop into emotionally damaged teens and adults lacking empathy, compassion and respect for their peaceful neighbors because they believe their lives suck so why shouldn't other people's lives suck too!!!

Much like Tupac I'm sorry to pick on moms, though since ancient times they are the primary caregivers we look to keep us SAFE, protected, cared for and loved right from our start.

I write about and share evidence of America’s MUCH IGNORED, oppressive, potentially life scarring black or African American *MATERNAL CHILD CARE* #T_H_U_G_L_I_F_E PUBLIC HEALTH CRISIS that I, as well as a growing number of my reasonably responsible, caring, concerned American and foreign born neighbors believe is impeding our black or American neighbors of African descent from experiencing the equality and respect all peaceful, reasonably responsible Americans are entitled to enjoy. ___ Now that 'Childhood Trauma' (#ACEs) victim-survivor Oprah Winfrey LOUDLY addressed our Nation's *CHILD CARE* PUBLIC HEALTH CRISIS, will YOU, a responsible, caring American citizen join Oprah & Dr. Nadine Burke Harris, MD, pediatrician & CEO of 'The Center For Youth Wellness', in passionately calling for a National MOVEMENT educating American & foreign born primary child caregivers about a potentially life scarring medical disease/condition:

"Childhood Trauma" aka "Adverse Childhood Experiences" (#ACEs) ___ During a March 11, 2018 '60 Minutes' segment titled, "Treating Trauma," Oprah Winfrey, a 'Childhood Trauma' (#ACEs) victim-survivor, shared knowledge regarding America's easily PREVENTABLE, though potentially life scarring *CHILD CARE* PUBLIC HEALTH CRISIS.

Knowledge Oprah exuberantly declares is a "game changer."

YouTube search terms: "Oprah Winfrey Dancing On Table Tops, Fixing The 'Hole In Your Soul'"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGjeeNaaW0c/ ___ __ "I agree that SINGLE MOTHERS are DESTROYING their sons." ~Neko Cheri

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SCf0vPCvovs/ ___ "BLACK MOTHERS CORRUPTING THEIR DAUGHTER'S" ~LadyMocha  

https://youtu.be/i8sT_g9yRmQ?t=7m59s

"Young Mothers Are Poisoning the black community" ~LadyMocha

https://youtu.be/JwECimUTcx4?t=7m6s ___ "How black Women sabotage their sons" - Polaris Law

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppRq6_AYOBs/

"How Black Community's Ignorance of Mental Illness Almost Killed Me" ~Polaris Law

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4H9bT5m77Eg/

https://www.reddit.com/r/mentalhealth/comments/7ola78/how_black_communitys_ignorance_of_mental_illness/

If you watch both Polaris Law video broadcasts and do not want to offer him a hug or hand shake, accompanied by kind words praising, as well as thanking Polaris for showing his strength and imparting his hard earned wisdom, you may need to take a long look in the mirror.

"'Pro-Black American' Logic Succinctly Explained By Social Commentator Mr. David Carroll"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hbm7xE99jVI/

Peace. ___ American *(Children)* Lives Matter; Take Pride In Parenting; *End Our National Epidemic of Child Abuse and Neglect*; End Community Violence, Police Fear & Educator's Frustrations

Tagged: #JamylaBolden, #TyshawnLee, #KingstonFrazier, #AvaCastillo, #JulieDombo, #FredrikaAllen, #EthanAli, #LavontayWhite, #NovaMarieGallman, #AyannaAllen, #TrinityGay, #TakeAKnee, #FatherlessBoys, #FatherlessGirls, #FatherlessTeens, #FatherlessAdults, #Sadness, #Resentment, #T_H_U_G_L_I_F_E >>>REMEDY>>> #A_F_R_E_C_A_N

*"America’s Firm Resolve to End Childhood Abuse and Neglect”*