#because YEAH i DO care. i am also massively afraid you’re going to emotionally hurt me.

[jeanmoreaux]

rereading beartown and us against you so i can finally read the winners, and i swear to god i’ll throw fists if i have to go through the emotional pain of these first two books again just to have the third one break me and not give my fav character a happy ending.

[massivedrickhead]

Loving your series of one shots bud!! I, myself, am a massive fan of fluff and happiness (tooth rotting), how about a prompt where Beca is in LA with Khaled (post PP3) and she is finding it really tough, physically and mentally, especially knowing Chloe isn't there, she hasn't spoken to her in a while, and she believes her to be happy with Chicago elsewhere... and when she returns home... She finds Chloe there. Waiting. (Or the equivalent, where Chloe is engaged, Beca hasn't spoken to her in a while, and she comes home to see her there) xxxxx

Hi, thank you so much! 

I might have gotten away from the prompt a little, but I hope you like it anyway.

I’m kind of tired and emotionally tonight so I don’t know if this is any good, and it’s kinda long so I hope that’s okay haha

Read on AO3

------

“Beca, are you listening?”

Chloe Beale is single.

“Mhm,” Beca said, pulling her eyes away from Facebook on her phone and looking back at Theo. “Sorry.”

“Everything alright?” He asked, knowing it wasn’t like Beca to zone out in a meeting like this. 

“Yep,” Beca said, turning her phone face down. He raised his eyebrows. “It’s Chloe.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh. “Is it an emergency?”

“No,” Beca said, putting her hands in her lap to resit the urge to pick her phone up again. “I am super focused and professional.”

“Can we talk about your album for, like, ten more minutes?” Theo said, trying to keep up his face stern.

“Absolutely,” Beca said, her eyes dropping again, briefly, to her phone.

The meeting felt like it lasted a lifetime, but eventually Beca hurried out and back to her own office, puling Facebook up on her phone.

Chloe Beale is single.

Chloe’s profile picture had changed from the sickeningly sweet picture of her and Chicago showing off her engagement ring, to just a simple selfie.

Beca clicked into her contacts list and her thumb hovered above Chloe’s name.

She should call her, right? 

She scrolled down further, and hit call on Aubrey’s name.

“Aubrey Posen,” Aubrey said, using the same tone of voice she would use to greet a stranger, and not one of her closest friends.

“Aubrey what’s going on with Chloe?”

“I’m doing great Beca, thanks for asking,” Aubrey replied.

“Aubrey.”

“I don’t know,” Aubrey said, her tone softer. “She’s been unhappy with him for a while.”

“She has?”

“Yes,” Aubrey said. “When did you last speak to her?”

“It’s… It’s been a while,” Beca said, sounding guilty. “Work has been a bit much.”

“I know,” Aubrey replied. “You should call her.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Thanks.”

“Speak to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I’ll call you.”

She ended the call with Aubrey but once again hesitated before calling Chloe. Apart from the occasional surface level text or exchange of snapchats and memes, she really hadn’t spoke to Chloe for a while. Not properly. Not the way they used to. 

She was scared that if she called her now, Chloe would be mad at her. 

She drummed her fingers against her desk, her stomach twisting slightly, as she tried to decide what to do. She never handled confrontation very well, it’s why she’d spent so much of her life just walking away from situations.

Beca picked up her phone again, and typed out a text.

Beca: Hey Chlo’. I’ve just seen Facebook, are you okay? xx

She hit send and closed her phone before she could overthink it, and tried to focus on her work again. 

She had a bunch of album art she needed to look through and pick her favourites. (Yes, her job was pretty awesome.)

She also had twenty unread emails that had popped up in the ten minutes she had spent on the phone to Aubrey/deciding what to do about Chloe. (Yes, her job was also pretty demanding.)

As her phone buzzed on her desk with Chloe’s reply, Theo poked his head through her office door.

“What’s up?” She asked, resisting the urge to pick up her cell to read the message.

“Have you got plans tonight? Because you need to cancel them if you do,” he said, looking stressed.

“Why?” Beca asked with a sigh.

“The head of the label is coming in for a meeting tomorrow morning and he wants to hear your new album and it is nowhere near ready for that,” he said.

“Isn’t he in Europe?” Beca said with a groan.

“He is literally flying in for this meeting. There is a lot riding on this album, Beca,” he said. “He took a big risk when he signed you as a solo artist after the Khaled collab.”

“I know that,” Beca said, running a hand through her hair. “I know. But it isn’t getting released for another two months, why does he need to hear it now?”

“I don’t know how his mind works, I just know we need to impress him tomorrow,” Theo said.

“Okay,” Beca said. 

“No distractions tonight, okay? Take an hour now and we can get started at,” he glanced down at his watch, “5:30.” He closed the office door behind him, and Beca immediately picked up her phone, pushing away the sudden wave of nerves.

Chloe: I’ve been better xx

Beca: Are you free right now? xx

Chloe: Yeah, I just finished work. xx

Beca called Chloe, this time without hesitation, and the redhead answered on the second ring.

“Hey,” Chloe said, her voice sounding heavy.

“Hi,” Beca replied, sinking back into her chair at the sound of Chloe’s voice. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed hearing it. “What happened?”

“Can we not talk about it?” Chloe asked. Beca could hear the sound of New York traffic over the phone and she felt suddenly homesick.

Not for New York specifically, but for that tiny apartment she and Chloe had shared in Brooklyn. For that level of closeness and intimacy. 

She liked L.A. fine, and her new home was, on paper, a thousand percent better than the Brooklyn apartment, but it still didn’t feel like home. She would trade her state-of-the-art kitchen, king-sized bed, hot-tub - all of it - for one more night in that apartment. One more night sleeping beside Chloe. One more night where Chloe’s arms would snake around her waist and pull her close, mumbling that she was cold. One more morning eating breakfast together before they parted for work. One more evening making dinner and watching trashy TV.

What made it hurt more was that she knew there was no going back to that apartment. Chloe had moved in with Chicago, Beca had moved out to L.A., and Fat Amy was somewhere in the Bahamas. Someone else was living in their apartment now. Sleeping in their cramped bed, making food in their kitchen.

“How’s work?” Chloe asked, breaking Beca out of her thoughts.

“Busy,” Beca said. “It’s… It’s a lot right now.”

“Are you taking care of yourself?” Chloe asked. And Beca thought just how like Chloe that was. While she was going through a heartbreak, she’d rather make sure Beca was okay.

“I thought that was your job,” Beca said, smiling at the soft laugh Chloe gave. She could hear the sounds of keys jingling and a door opening.

“That’s kinda hard to do when I’m all the way in New York,” Chloe said. “God it’s so cold outside. I need a vacation.”

Beca glanced at the sun streaming through her office window. “Maybe you should come to L.A.,” she said, without really thinking. As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she realised this was something she wanted more than anything right now. 

“That would be nice,” Chloe said with a laugh.

“I’m serious,” Beca said, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. 

“Come on, Becs. I can’t do that,” Chloe said. “I have work.”

“Take some time off?”

“The flights are expensive-”

“-I’ll pay for the flights,” Beca said, cutting her off. “I think… Chlo’ I think I need this. I need some time off. And I think you need it too?”

“Yeah, I need it,” Chloe said. “Are they even gonna let you have time off?” 

“I can ask,” Beca said. She looked down at her watch and saw she only had ten minutes before she had to get back to work. “Look, if you want to come, I can make it happen. I’m working for the rest of the night, but give me a call tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. “I’ll call my boss.”

“So you want to come?”

“Yeah. Yeah I want to.”

——

Beca glanced around her nervously as she stood at the arrivals gate of L.A.X. airport a week later. She was wearing a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses but she was still afraid someone would recognise her.

Then she caught sight of ginger hair and suddenly Chloe was walking towards her and Beca felt her nervousness drain away.

Chloe grinned when she spotted her, and started walking more quickly, practically running by the time she got close enough to hug her. She dropped her case and flung her arms around Beca, squeezing her into the tightest hug she could manage.

Beca was going to make some sarcastic joke, but the feeling of Chloe’s arms around her caused her voice to die in her throat and her eyes to fill with tears. 

“I’ve really missed you,” Chloe said, squeezing tighter and planting a kiss on her cheek and releasing her.

“Missed you too,” Beca said, grabbing the handle of Chloe’s case. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” Chloe said, grinning. “Why are you dressed like a spy?”

“Um, because I am?” Beca said, laughing. “I just don’t wanna get spotted.”

“Right,” Chloe said. “You’re a big deal now.”

Beca laughed and shook her head. “It’s a lot,” her voice was a little quieter. 

Chloe frowned slightly, and then her eyes widened as she saw a few men with cameras hovering outside the entrance to the airport.

Beca sighed. “Just ignore them and stick close to me.”

They walked out of the airport quickly, and as soon as the men spotted her, they started yelling. 

“Beca! Beca! How’s the album going, Beca?!”

“Beca! What do you say about the rumours that you’re dating your producer?!”

“Holy shit,” Chloe muttered under her breath as they made their way to Beca’s car, the paparazzi following them, continuing their barrage of questions.

“Beca! Introduce us to your friend!”

“Beca is it true you’re dating-”

Whatever name he was planning to say was lost in the sound of Beca slamming her door shut, and starting her car. She honked the horn a few times to get them to move out the way.

“Beca, what the fuck was that?” Chloe asked, pulling on her seatbelt as Beca pulled out of the parking lot. 

“Fun, right?” Beca asked, glancing in her rearview mirror, making sure they weren’t going to follow her home. 

“Does that happen every time you go out?”

“Not always,” Beca said. “To be honest they were probably there just hanging about to see if anyone would turn up. I don’t think they knew I was there before they saw me.”

“Jesus,” Chloe said. “I forget you’re like a legit celebrity now.”

Beca pulled a face. “I’m not. Not really.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, glancing over at Chloe. “Yeah, just… Just really looking forward to this time off. I had to work a lot of late nights to get Theo to agree with this.” Chloe frowned. “You know that guy was full of shit, right? There’s nothing going on between me and Theo. I haven’t been dating him. I haven’t been dating anyone.”

“Why not?” Chloe asked.

“Why not, what?”

“Why haven’t you been dating anyone?”

Beca shrugged. “I haven’t met anyone I liked.” They were quiet for a little while longer as they continued to sit in L.A. traffic. “So, can we only talk about my love life or are you going to tell me about you and Chicago?”

“There’s nothing really to tell,” Chloe said, turning to look out of the window now they had gotten off the highway. “I just… It wasn’t working. We were fighting a bunch. I wanted him to be different and he wanted me to be different.”

“I’m sorry, Chlo’,” Beca said. 

“It’s okay,” Chloe said. “It’s better in the long run. At least we weren’t married with kids before we figured it out.”

They sat in a comfortable silence as Beca drove them the rest of the way to her house, the radio playing quietly. 

When Beca pulled up to to her house, Chloe let out a low whistle.

“Right, you live in a fucking mansion now,” she said.

“It’s hardly a mansion,” Beca said, feeling embarrassed. She took Chloe’s bag from the trunk and they made their way into the house. “You want the tour?”

“Please.” 

Beca showed her around, dropping her bag into the guest room. The tour ended on the deck, and Beca grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen on the way. They sat in comfortable loungers and looked out as the sun set over L.A.. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Beca said, pouring them some wine.

“Me too,” Chloe replied, cheers-ing her glass against Beca’s. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Anytime, Chlo’.”

As they sat in silence watching the sunset, Beca felt a warmth spreading through her chest. For the first time since moving to L.A., she felt like she was home. And then she realised something.

Something she’d known all along, really.

She glanced across at Chloe, who was smiling with her eyes closed, letting the sun soak into her.

Chloe.

Chloe was her home.

She placed her hand on top of Chloe’s and squeezed, softly.

Chloe opened her eyes and looked over at Beca, still smiling. She adjusted her hand so her fingers were threaded with Beca’s. 

Beca looked away, blinking against the sun and feeling tears stinging her eyes.

If Chloe noticed, she didn’t mention it. She just carried on smiling, and turned back to face the sunset, their hands still linked. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” she said. 

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I feel like I never actually get to relax out here. I spend so much time just sleeping at my office these days.”

“I knew you weren’t taking care of yourself,” Chloe said.

“There’s just been a lot of pressure at work. This is my first solo album, and if it fails… If it doesn’t do well everyone will know that my last one was only a success because of Khaled,” Beca said. “I can’t fail at this.”

“You won’t fail,” Chloe said, softly. “You’re so talented, Beca. You’ve got this, I know you do.”

Beca smiled. “I wish I didn’t have to do it without you.”

“You don’t,” Chloe said. “I’m only on the other end of the phone. You can call me anytime.”

“It’s not the same,” Beca said. “Sorry, I just miss how things used to be.”

“I know. I miss it too,” Chloe said. 

“If I’d known things wouldn’t stay that way forever, I might have done things differently,” Beca said.

“What do you mean?”

Beca shrugged, feeling like she should stop talking before she said something she’d regret. She didn’t want to cause an awkward situation that they both had to live with for the two weeks of their vacation.

“Don’t go quiet on me now,” Chloe said.

“I just wish I’d been more honest. Braver,” Beca said, avoiding looking at Chloe.

“It’s not too late,” Chloe said.

But Beca shook her head. “Sorry. I’m… I’m rambling. I’ve probably drank too much.”

“I guess it’s getting late,” Chloe said, letting Beca’s hand drop. “We’ve got a long day of relaxing ahead of us, right?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. She stood and stretched and helped Chloe to her feet. “If you get hungry or anything during the night just help yourself.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said, kissing Beca on the cheek. “We’ll finish this conversation tomorrow, okay?”

Beca laughed, and felt her cheeks burn. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Night Becs,” Chloe said.

“Night.”

Chloe woke a few hours later, her head hurting from too much wine and sun and not enough water.

She made her way to the kitchen and drank what felt like her body weight in water. As she was about to head back, she heard noises coming from Beca’s office. 

The door was open and a dim light was creeping onto the landing.

Chloe peaked inside to see Beca sitting cross-legged on her chair, her hair tied up messily, the light from the computer screen the only light in the room.

She was talking to someone on the phone, her voice a little hoarse.

“No, I get that Theo,” she said, her hand resting on the back of her neck. “But when I spoke to you yesterday, the track was fine.” She watched as Beca tucked the phone in between her ear and shoulder and the began typing into her computer. “Uh huh. So like, more bass? Less bass?” She stopped typing. “I don’t know what you mean by the same bass but different.”

Chloe had heard enough and stepped into the room. 

She placed a hand on Beca’s shoulder and tried not to laugh when she jumped. She held out her other hand for Beca’s phone. 

Beca sighed and handed it over.

“Hi Theo,” Chloe said, smiling. “It’s Chloe. You remember me from the USSO tour, right? It’s 2 am, and Beca’s on vacation. I know. I’ll pass your apologies on. Goodnight Theo.”

She clicked end on the call and passed the phone back. 

“Theo said sorry.”

Beca laughed and put the phone down. “Thank you.”

“Does this happen often?”

“Oh yeah,” Beca said. “Theo and I are both kinda nocturnal so sometimes he’ll call me with ideas.”

“No wonder you look so tired,” Chloe said.

“Gee thanks.”

“Come on, it’s bed time.” Chloe took her hand and pulled her up. “This room is off limits while you’re on vacation, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Beca said, smiling. “How are you finding the guest room?”

“It’s nice,” Chloe said, as they hovered outside Beca’s room. “Why?”

“No reason,” Beca said.

“Becs, you can just say it you know?”

Beca laughed, and looked down. “I can’t. I’m not good at this.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. She pushed Beca’s bedroom door open and gave her hand a tug. “Come on.”

“Chloe,” Beca said softly, closing her eyes when Chloe cupped her cheek with her hand. “Wait.”

“Hey,” Chloe replied, her voice just as gentle. “Look at me. Tell me what you need.”

Beca swallowed hard, tears burning her eyes. “I’ve… I’ve been waiting. That’s what I wanted to say before. Why I haven’t dated anyone since Jesse. I’ve been waiting for you. I… I waited to tell you and I waited too long.”

“It isn’t too late,” Chloe said, pulling Beca into a hug. “You can tell me now, it isn’t too late.” She felt Beca take a deep breath, and when she spoke her voice was muffled by Chloe’s shirt.

“I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you. And I know you and Chicago just broke up. I don’t need to hear it back.”

Chloe ended their hug and cupped Beca’s face in her hands again, her thumbs brushing away the tears. 

“I wanted Chicago to be different than he was. That’s why we didn’t work out. I wanted him to know what I needed without me having to ask. I wanted him to know when I needed a tea instead of a coffee. I wanted him to bring me an aspirin when I was two hours into a study session because he knew I’d have a headache by then. I wanted him to know when I wanted to talk, and when I just needed to sit and listen to music. I wanted him to know me. I wanted him to know me the way you know me. I wanted him to be you, Becs. And… And when I realised that… When I realised it was you that I wanted… You that I was in love with… That’s when we broke up.”

“You love me?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah I love you.”

Beca let out a teary laugh. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Beca nodded, and Chloe’s mouth was on hers, and Beca knew she was home.

[krreader]

friend or foe | chapter 3.

pairing: kim taehyung x reader fandoms (in this chapter): bts ; snsd ; g-idle ; shinee warnings: non idol!au ; supernatural!au ; cult!au ; death genre: angst ; mystery ; smut previous: 1 ; 2 word count: 2.3k+

summary: when you were younger, stories of vampires, demons and other monsters used to keep you up at night, until you grew up and realized none of them were real. that’s what you continued to believe until you found yourself mixed up with a cult that had these same exact monsters as members and you weren’t sure if you were going to be their next meal or if they had something else in mind for you..

a/n: a little bit more backstory, that I GENUINELY enjoy to write. I hope you enjoy the story as a whole too ♥

The clicking of heels made Taemin roll his eyes.

Whoever came here to disturb him was annoying him already. Whether it was Sunmi, Yeri, Yuqi or..-

“Where is he? Where is Taehyung?”

Yoona.

That one was ten times worse than who he had expected.

“I have no idea where he is. I just came here for a drink,” he held up his refilled cup and downed it in one go, placing it onto the bar again and waiting for the bartender to re-fill it.

“He promised he would let me do this. He promised he wouldn't just take her and tell her all of it!”

“You know how he can be. He's impatient. He wanted her.”

“Yeah, well.. he messed up. I doubt she'll want to join our cause after all of this.”

“And you really think he'd care if she wouldn't?” finally he laughed and turned around, grinning at Yoona with his drink loosely between his fingers, “Face it, baby. Your sister is stuck with us now, whether she wants to be here or not.”

And see, Yoona was usually one of the composed ones in this group that they have formed. She had always been very rational and knew that to make this work, you were needed. As much as she had wanted protect you, she knew that there had to be the day you had to find out.

So maybe some people, and that currently includes you, were thinking she only took care of you for their cause of living in a world where they didn’t have to be ashamed and worried about their powers, when in reality, she took care of you because she loved you like you were her own daughter. Not sister, not aunt, but daughter. She was the same age as your mother, she might as well could have been.

And so when someone like Taemin said something like that..

..she revealed her true powers.

One second she was there, the next she was right in front of him, her eyes glowing blue and her hand wrapped around his throat, pressing on his air ways so hard that his black demon eyes showed and he was ready to fight if need be.

But before the situation could escalate any further, the man she had been looking for was standing in the room.

“That's enough, Yoona. Let him go.”

She shook her head just enough to get out of her raging state after a few seconds, then took a step back and brushed over her clothes, clearing her throat before she turned around to look at him.

How come he always looked so confident? She could snap him in half if she wanted to.

“You promised me.”

“I know,” Taehyung's expression changed to an almost.. sad one, but not quite, “But it had to be done now. We're losing more people than we're gaining them. We.. I..- need her,” he admitted.

“That's why I told you to let me handle this,” she crossed her arms in front of her chest, “You threw her into a world she doesn't understand yet, a world she is still afraid of. Worse than that, you made me tell her about her family, without being able to prepare her for it.”

“That is your own fault. I told you that giving her fake memories of a family will make it harder for her in the end.”

Maybe.. but she thought it had been an act of kindness when in reality, giving you those fake memories was ten times crueler than living with the truth. The truth that you never had the parents that you thought you did.

“Just.. do me a favor,” Yoona sighed in defeat, “Stay away from her for now. You, Taemin, Sunmi.. you people scare her. If you want this to work, let her be around the.. nicer ones.”

“I am nice,” Taemin gulped down his drink, “Suuuuper nice.”

“You're also a demon. She sees your eyes, she'll run away screaming. She sees Sunmi's teeth, she'll start crying.”

Taehyung nodded, “Alright. For now, I will keep my distance. And you will too,” he looked at Taemin.

And only when Taehyung was gone, did Taemin mutter, “I really can't stand him, you know? I wish one of the others had gotten his position.”

You looked out of your window with a small smile, watching an elven girl play with her father, pure bliss on their faces as they ran around in the gardens, hid from each other and then chased the other one again.

They're not all bad, you told yourself. Some of them are kind, like Jieun. Like Yuqi. Like Yeri.

But it wasn't easy to forget about the ones that weren't.

You didn't try to run away anymore, but you weren't happy here either. You were still confused and most importantly, heartbroken, over the fake memories that had been implanted in your brain.

It dawned you more and more that you were completely and utterly alone in this world. 

You had no one.. well, maybe..-

When someone knocked on your door, you turned around and saw the person that was responsible for said heartbreak.. indirectly.

“I don't want to talk to you.”

“I know,” Yoona said with a sad smile, “I.. just wanted to properly introduce you to someone.”

Yuqi had always appeared out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of you, but now she was walking in after Yoona with a smile that made you smile too.

“Hello. I'm Yuqi.”

“I know.. you're.. a ghost, right?”

“Ghost.. spirit..,” Yuqi shrugged, “I don't really care what you call me. I just think I'm super duper cool.”

“(Y/N).. Yuqi is very talented. She can't just disappear, but she can.. show you what once was.”

And you instantly knew what your 'sister' was trying to tell you.

“I'm sure it's very hard to believe everything you were told,” Yuqi grabbed your hands with a small smile, “So I'd like to show you.. because I think that if you see it with your own eyes, it will be easier to understand.”

You were scared when she said that.

Because deep down, you knew that what you were about to see would trigger something inside of you. It would erase those last hopes you held that all of this might just be a dream. 

You were scared because.. you knew they were right.. and you weren't ready for the truth.

“I don't want you to look at me anymore like you look at me now,” Yoona said, still keeping her distance, “I want to prove to you that all I ever did was to protect you. That I love you and always have,” she choked out those last words, then bit down hard on her lip and lowered her head, “I want you to understand that you’re not as alone as you might think you are.”

Yuqi's smile faded, first looking at Yoona, then at you, “It won't just be a memory.. it will be like you're there. I will be with you every step of the way and if it becomes too much, I can pull you out.”

“I'm really scared,” you whispered to Yuqi

“Don't be.. you're strong, (Y/N). You can do this.”

And to Yoona's surprise, you reached out to her when you decided for the whole thing. She instantly approached you and held your hand, showing you that she'd be with you.

Like she had always been and like she always would be.

Despite you being angry with her, in all of this, Yoona was the only one you felt safe with here. Truly safe.

After taking one, two, three deep breaths, you nodded, giving Yuqi the go for.. whatever it was that was about to happen.

You closed your eyes, only for a second.. and only opened them again when you heard.. war.

It was an unfamiliar place, yet it felt like you had been here before.

The sky.. the sky looked different. It might have been beautiful once, but now it was gray, ash from the raging fires polluting the air, something that looked like air fighters flying above your heads and exploding, metal pieces falling to the ground, making you flinch, afraid they might hit you.

“Don't be scared.. this is the past, nothing here can hurt you,” Yuqi assured you.

But she was wrong.

This would hurt you. Not physically maybe, but emotionally? 

It would probably ruin you.

Yoona interlinked her fingers with yours and gently pulled you towards a castle. It was massive, looked like it was built purely out of steel, but at the same time it looked like it was built out of diamonds. Even with all this ash around you, it still had a shine to it. Once, it was probably magnificent. Unbreakable.

But now it looked like it was on the brink of falling apart.

And while you were walking towards it, Yoona once again told the story of what had happened: “Your parents were good rulers. They were just, gave their people everything they needed and more. This war.. it never should have started. People and supernatural beings were living together peacefully.. but see, supernatural beings were and still are, a lot more powerful than any human being ever could be. And humans.. they can be greedy, cruel monsters when they want to be. They didn't think it was fair that supernatural beings existed. So they decided that getting rid of them would only be fair to them..”

Yoona gulped down hard, stopping when she saw four men pin down a boy not older than seventeen and killing him without batting an eyelash, then laughing.

Only because his ears were sharper than theirs.

Your eyes widened, taking a step back and bumping into Yuqi, who immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulder and smiled encouragingly.

“There were too many of them.. and they took us by surprise. Most of us didn't have a chance. They caught us while we went home from work, stabbed us in the back like the cowards that they were. They killed babies, children, women, elderly.. it didn't matter to them. The moment they had powers that the humans could never have, was the moment their fate was to die.”

“Why.. didn't you fight back?” you asked carefully.

“We tried. Parents trying to save their children.. elders sacrificing themselves for the youngest.. but we had nowhere to go. Despite the galaxy being very advanced, none of us were prepared for an attack and while we were powerful, only a handful of us could travel between galaxies or to another planet. We used to be thousands..-” Yoona continued walking, past the screaming masses of her people that were being slaughtered, “In the end.. only a couple hundred survived. That's all that was left of our people in this galaxy. Every single planet rioted. Rioted against peaceful folk..”

“And.. what about.. the galaxy now?”

“It still exists. But.. there are no supernatural beings anymore. It is now ruled by humans.. they took what was rightfully ours and made it theirs. And now they tell stories of how they defeated the big, bad wolves, us, and saved all future generations from our wrath.”

Humans were always assholes. It didn't matter which galaxy they were living in, apparently, they would always take and then portray it as if they had no other choice.

“You said my father.. he died first?”

“He was a skilled fighter. The moment the war started, he was the first volunteer to help protect his people,” Yoona watched your father fight the people, ten against one. An unfair fight, but he did his best, “Your mother begged him not to, but he was a good king.. the best. He'd never abandon his people when they were in need.”

You stared at him for as long as you could, but Yoona didn't want you to see his death, so she pulled you along.

At least she didn’t change his face in the fake memories that she had given you. He looked like you.. remembered him.

“If it hadn't been for him, they would have broken through the gates of the castle a lot sooner.. then your mother never would have had the chance to send you away with me.”

“Why.. did she.. not come with us?”

“She thought she might still be able to save a few more people.. and.. she did. She saved around twenty more, most of them children, but.. by the time she wanted to join us, it was too late and they had gotten to her already.”

And then you saw her.

God, she was as beautiful as you remembered her, but her hair was long, wavy.. even during all of this, she now truly looked like how you had always imagined a goddess. 

She was out of breath, clearly running to, or from something, looking around for a moment, before she let out one final breath and stopped moving.

All she did was turn her head and look directly at you.

Not through you, but at you. Into your eyes.

Like she could see you.

And all three of you froze.

Because, from what Yuqi said, this shouldn’t be possible. This was merely a memory, a vision from the past. 

But your mother looked you dead in the eye and surprised you by saying: “Save our people, (Y/N).”

Yuqi was so shocked that she instantly pulled you all out of the memory, too worried about what had just happened and too worried about what it might do to you if she let it continue.

Your mother knew you were there. Not in that moment, not at that time, but.. years later, you would be there and you would look at her when you were so unsure about what your role was in all of this.

And she made it all clear to you in one single sentence.

You knew. 

You were certain.

You could hear Yuqi and Yoona talk, but it was so faint, despite them being right next to you. All you could see were your mother's eyes, so full of sadness and.. guilt. Guilt that you had to be the one who was burdened with that task. All you could hear was how her voice was on the brink of breaking, how she was so close to tears..

Their death would not be in vain.

“Tell me what I need to do,” you suddenly said, making both Yoona and Yuqi look at you. Both of them were confused, but then you turned to look at them, your voice a lot more determined now, “I'm in.”

[moiraineswife]

Ep 55 Caleb Meta

Warning: This post will contain a)- Spoilers for episode 55. If you haven’t seen it yet BEGONE. b)- Angst. Bc. Caleb. c)- yelling. if u haven’t worked out already: these posts are not planned. these posts are not thought-through. these posts are not edited. these posts are a stream of consciousness shrieking at the void that is u lot. Enjoy. 

So. Uh. That episode was like..................A lot. Lots to unpack. LOTS. So I’m just going to touch on Caleb and the very specific niche deliciousness of him being completely and utterly retraumatised in that episode and how it may or may not pan out in future. 

Meta under the cut bc it got Long. 

So, DIVING IN: the nature of trauma in itself is repetition. Nightmares, flashbacks (of all their various forms) are ways in which the trauma itself repeats. Basically your brain Cannot Cope with what’s happened so it tries to just put you through the same thing over and over again like process this please. 

Caleb has been dealing with that for at least a decade since the original trauma took place. Then we pile on the (highly symbolic and super-interesting in a really fucked up way bit of magic that is Modify Memory (i assume) which I have to meta on more in future) which is effectively a false memory that was removed (that his parents were guilty/in his twisted-logic mind deserved what they got) which makes a very interesting mirror for suppressed memories (again: big trauma thing. In which your brain Cannot Cope so hard it just blots the bad memory out of existence entirely) so he’s a whole mess of being trapped in an endless cycle of his horrible past (PTSD is a Trip, y’all). 

This is...An echo of that but it’s something new. It’s very much the same KIND of thing, so it plays in to the trauma-repetition, but it’s a new incarnation of it. History repeating itself, etc, etc, delicious irony, all that great stuff fiction-creators live for.  

It’s going to be deeply upsetting for Caleb. (No shit, Taryn). But it so beautifully, and terribly, feeds in to his deep-rooted fears that he is a toxic person, and that those around him are destined to get hurt (by him, not by him, it doesn’t really matter to the guilt brain, it’s all just fuel for that fire). 

For example: Liam spoke on Talks about how, regarding Molly’s death, Caleb almost expected it because yup, that seems about right, par for the course. It’s one of the big reasons he’s been extremely reluctant to let the Mighty Nein get close to him (he’s directly said this in canon at this point, in his conversation with Beau). 

He feels dangerous. He sees himself as dangerous. Partly because he sees himself as being constantly in danger, and by extension, those around him are also in danger. That’s external. 

The internal part of him has been screaming ‘you killed the two people who loved you the most in the world in an unprovoked attack because you’re a monster’ for over a decade at this point. Not only does he not deserve any of these people, he feels like he’s destined to hurt them, no matter what he does, or how hard he tries. 

This, uh, reinforces that in a very deep, obvious, and painful way. Not to mention the fact that, not only did he hurt them he hurt them with fire. Again. So it’s almost exactly the same pattern of shit coming back to haunt him for a second time: 

Trent: Mental manipulation magic - fire - dead loved ones  Demon: mental manipulation magic - fire - nearly dead loved ones. 

It’s Bad. It’s Real Bad. That boy is going to have the panic attack of his life when he recovers from the immediate adrenaline rush of the fight. It’s not going to be pretty. 

It’s going to drive home everything that little voice inside his head that sounds like Trent has been telling him since he joined these people. It’s going to undo all the struggle it’s taken to ignore that voice up to this point because don’t you see what happens when you get close to people? They can be used against you. You can be used against them. They become your weakness and you become weak because you care. Because this hurts. And if you were stronger, and smarter, then it wouldn’t... etc etc etc. *insert emotionally manipulative bullshit here* 

BUT! 

I actually think this could actually be good for him in a really weird way? 

Hear me out: 

Caleb has been living in a trauma loop for over ten years at this point. He’s been going over the same memories again and again and again, but he hasn’t done anything with them. He hasn’t actually fully processed what happened to him. And, and this is the biggest part: he hasn’t had anyone to push against. 

It takes a lot to recognise abuse. It takes a lot in the modern world when there are phones, helplines, the internet and, let’s be honest: awareness. There are words for these experiences and there’s more chance of, accidentally or deliberately, stumbling across help out there that can look at a situation from an outside perspective and go: this is fucked up. 

This is what Caleb needs. 

On his own it’s almost impossible for him to recognise what was done to him and fully process it and begin to heal from it in a healthy way. Caleb has not actually started the process of recovery for anything that happened to him yet because Caleb does not yet recognise/understand what there is to process/recover from. 

In Caleb’s mind, he is a monster. He did an unforgivable thing because he believed his parents deserved it as they were traitors. He broke because he was not strong enough to handle what he’d done. He was sent to an asylum and since escaping he’s just been afraid. That’s the only emotion he’s got towards Trent right now: fear. And it’s suppressing all logic, self-awareness, and the ability to think rationally about what went on. 

Caleb was abused. Caleb was manipulated, mentally, emotionally, and magically. Caleb was a vulnerable kid who was deliberately chosen, carefully groomed, and then skilfully brainwashed by a figure with an enormous amount of literal and emotional power over him. Caleb was abused. 

Caleb does not see this. 

Caleb does not recognise that he was abused. 

And I think this is where a lot of issues with Caleb kinda stem from in fandom? Because people look at him and just...How can he NOT understand that he was manipulated. Huh. Maybe he wasn’t. Because it’s just that damned obvious how could he not understand this? 

Abusers rely on that. Abusers rely on their victims not understanding what they’re doing to them. Particularly when their victims are young, with relatively little real-world experience, and absolutely no grounding/preparation to recognise or combat any of this, in a society that is more accepting of the kind of teaching that radicalised Caleb than most are. 

Caleb needs an outside perspective to look at what he went through and go ‘you know that’s fucked up, right?’ He’s kind of had that from Beau and Nott but not enough. Someone has to sit him down and go through every piece of what happened and be like ‘this is not okay’ ‘what he did to you was not okay’ ‘this is called abuse’ and then consistently validate those experiences until he understands. 

Caleb has over ten years of trauma to process and unlearn. That...That does not happen overnight. That does not happen because your new friend looks at you and goes ‘yeah that was fucked up, dude’ and suddenly it all crystallises in your mind and becomes clear. That takes work. And effort. And a willingness to feel something beyond fear for your abuser and Caleb is Not There yet. 

What this last fight does, though, is open up the possibility of Caleb starting to accept this a little bit. 

Jester: “What the fuck, Caleb?” 

Caleb: “I am sorry...They got inside my head.” 

This is actually....Kinda huge for Caleb? Actually it’s kinda massive. This is Caleb experiencing a trauma incredibly similar to what he went through when he was younger (but on a much smaller scale, with far less dire outcomes) and being able to look at it and, still apologise, but explain that he was not in control of himself, and that ‘they got inside his head’. 

This is the step he needs to take with Trent, too, this is the same admission that he needs to make to himself, and this is the first step that has to happen before he can even begin to start processing and healing his trauma. And he needs help with that. 

This is not the part where I say I expect the mighty nein to become Caleb’s therapists. But they can be friends, they can be a support network, but most importantly: they can be an outside perspective. 

They can’t process his trauma for him. They can’t work through his issues for him. They can’t take away any of his grief, or his guilt, or his pain, or his PTSD. They can’t make what Trent did go away. But they can point it out. 

They can raise a red flag. They can point it out and say ‘this is not okay’. They can put a name to it. They can validate it. They can do the things that Caleb cannot do himself, which is look at what happened and be able to acknowledge, without the burden of guilt, and the fact that it’s so much easier to blame, and hurt, and punish himself than a figure he’s terrified of, and say that it was not okay, and explain to him what happened. 

They can help him acknowledge his abuse and then he can start to help himself heal from it. 

But this fight is, essentially, a microcosm of Caleb’s past. And I hope that if (when, please god when) the mighty nein, who were all either a)- directly charmed themselves, or b)- resisted the effect but were aware of its intentions and capabilities, do not react the way Caleb expects them to react (ie: the way he reacted to himself) with anger, and hatred, and blame, that’s going to start unlocking things. 

I don’t expect a massive breakthrough next episode, don’t get me wrong, this is going to be a long, careful, painful process. But I think even the acknowledgement that someone affected that way by magic, or by emotional abuse, is not themselves, and is not, ultimately, to blame for what they may have done (or weak/somehow complicit in ‘allowing’ themselves to be targeted/victimised) is going to prove a really big thing for Caleb in the future. 

Just that acknowledgement that they don’t blame him for what happened, that they understand he wasn’t himself, and that it wasn’t within his control to stop what was happening could, I think, prove huge in terms of his recovery further down the line... 

TL;DR: Caleb experienced his past again on a much smaller scale with this fight, but having the party around him to react to him/it and reach out to him, and tell him it’s okay and that they don’t blame him will do A Lot for unlocking his potential recognition of abuse and recovery down the line. 

[gayfrenchtoast]

Part 2!

So if you haven't seen pt 1 it is here or in the vent tag on my blog

Continuing on! After I revived that text I lost my fucking m i n d over so many points in it, and I'm not gonna describe it to you, I'm gonna show you the result of my message after I took his message into Google docs and made a response to every point so long that when I sent it back it had to be split into multiple messages. Any additions or changes will again be in red ;

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

Whatever (sister) has told me is none of your business and don't you date interrogate her about it when she gets back, you may not think you’re doing it but I don’t want her scared into not being able to open up to us. She's said nothing that I know myself is not likely the truth, if anything she excuses your behaviour because she doesn't know much better. 

I do not agree with your "proportion to the offence" you do not even need to yell at the kids, getting down on their level and talking with them would be a much better teaching method than terrifying them and teaching them to be scared of you. Regardless you yell so much it hardly ever feels like you are ever yelling in proportion to a particular offence it just feels like you are yelling because of your own mood and it teaching nothing but to tiptoe around you, avoid you and lie to avoid your wrath. If you're yelling to "set boundaries" the only boundaries you set are massive ones away from your children that you then act like they aren't even there. 

Yes because they're children and don't know any better. They're innocent and don't know what going or what they're going through isn't normal much like I didn't.

I do not deny my need for therapy, in fact, I am actively in search of therapy thank you for your concern and causation of that, however my need for therapy does not negate your need for it, perhaps if you had it you'd see why I feel this way though I doubt you'd ever seek it out because for some reason you believe you are a good person and a good dad and I knew going into this you'd never believe me or believe you were any different. 

I know you loved me, it does not change the fact you had a shit way of showing it snd the fact your actions did affect me. And being annoyed at me because you care is a funny way of showing your love for someone. 

I do admit I find it funny that the only examples you can provide of me big happy with you are when I was a very young child that didn't know any better and I worry if you can't see past the times where I was filled with childhood innocence and not after it was destroyed because you, again, made me hate myself. I don’t believe you are listening to me because I think you've glazed over things like how you told me I was stupid and selfish and wanted to hurt you which made me hate myself and think I was a bad person when I was only a child that didn't know any better. If you think that kind of stuff doesn’t affect a child I don't think you will ever get better. 

Oh yeah, it does make things easier for you to blame things on the divorce, doesn’t it? Lemme shut that down right now; no. if anything it helped me get away from you.

And I think it’s unfair for you to treat your children the way you do but we don't get what we want all the time it seems. I'm sorry you feel I have to apologise for something I didn't do, as I said before o am happy to be used as a scapegoat, if (his finace) wants to blame me for (her daughter) getting back into something she never stopped doing then that's your problem and if now you want to blame me too it really is your problem! 

Everyone? If you've told others about this that is also your problem and I'd say it's a wonder they are wondering since they know you but you do surround yourself with people like you so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. 

Fuck you, don’t you dare talk about my Mothers, the only good parents I have ever had, that way. Don’t you dare try and talk shit about my mother's, my mums don't need to talk shit about you because the only one that ever starts any of that kind of stuff is me! I don't need prompting! I know who you are, I worked that out myself, and if anything they've done nothing but encourage me to have a relationship with you and give you chances because you're my dad but if I didn't want to they weren't going to push me or force me which is so much more than I can say you have done in relation to them. I do not need to assign "too much meaning" to events, I was there! I felt them! Do not assume that I am some stupid child who just miss-remembering things, not only am I fucking not but there are way too many, way too much repetitive behaviour, way too much I had to learn to go through life to be just misremembering anything, not only that but repeating events, verbatim, to other people has confirmed that all of that shit was fucked up. I am sure you're fuming reading this paragraph, I'm sorry you feel that way, but not going to hold back anymore because how fucking dare you.

Do not try and emotionally manipulate me with the "Does it mean nothing, all the work I have done for you?" line, frankly that's weak manipulation for you, but considering all you've done to me in the past, how that affects me and how you've implied I'm crazy in this message, aNo. You feeding me and putting a roof over my head is rendered null. And god forbid I end up a dad like you, that has been one of my biggest fears for years, part of my mental breakdowns in college was me being scared if I had children I'd fall into being like you, continuing the cycle of abuse. I may not even have children purely because I'm afraid of turning out like you. Oh and thanks for preparing me to be an adult dad, the anxiety you gave me made me have a panic attack when I tried to register at a doctors in (uni town), good fucking job. 

I've been feeling strange to you ever since I realised how you treated me was wrong, so since high school? Don’t think this is a recent thing and don't think this is anything but me seeing things for how they really are because they're not, I've had a long time to analyse that. 

I can’t believe you called your dad a good dad and then talked about how you were a bit better than your dad was in the same paragraph. Congrats on your "Not as shit as you could have been" award. Perhaps if you went to therapy you might see how you’re not as different as you should be proud of than your dad. I remember you telling a story of him trying to tell you to drive which caused grandma to cry in the car, you should see that's fucked up. That's the only story I have of him and it’s not a good look. 

Here's an easy one for you; when you're stressed, don't take it out on your children! And if you've only shouted when you were stressed you were stressed a disproportionate amount. Maybe that's something you should work on, in therapy. And this bit "Being a parent is stressful. Being one who really cares is really stressful." Is shit. Seriously? You're blaming me for you yelling at me? Do you even realise you're doing this? In case you don't realise it this is manipulation. And again just because you were stressed didn't mean you had the right to take it out on me, even if to you it was just because you cared about me.

I'm sorry you f e e l t h a t w a y

^

This last paragraph is a doozy

"Please don't let the past dominate your feelings for the present. For your sake" again implying how your actions have hurt me is my fault, I know you won't believe me but all the fault lays with you. 

"If you have anxiety and depression it will be your choice to recover" this line really got me, it sounds like you're blaming me for my own mental health problems, implying that how I feel is a choice and that I am not actually trying to help myself. I am very much helping myself and this is part of that, something you almost acknowledged in the next sentence in the same paragraph!

The fact is you are so arrogant and up your own ass that you think you're always right everyone else is always wrong and you are the greatest person in any given room when in reality you are a presumptuous asshole whose perspective on the world worries me and who's parenting style is emotional and mental abuse and manipulation and now I've broken out of it I am not afraid of you anymore so I can tell you this; fuck off you arrogant ass, leave me alone, treat your children better at least, I’m not gonna ask you to improve anymore because I know you won't. Have fun playing house and making yourself think you're the best man in the world but I'm not gonna tell you you are anymore cus I don't have to! Get, and I have wanted to say this to you for so many years, fucked!

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

So as you can tell, I snapped. One could say I snapped when I finally told him he was the problem but this, this was me snapping. This was me being donezo. This was me finally getting my cathartis and you know what? I deserved it. And I am so happy I did.

So happy fathers day! Happy fathers day to my fucking dad, one of the biggest pluages on my life and the man who made the worst part of who I am today! Good job! If you ever see this father, I have one thing to say to you and I think you know what it is

Fuck you, fuck off and go ffuuuuuck yourself!

[bryanllamado]

How the Quarantine Affected Me

Hi there, reader slash blog visitor! We’re down to the last week of November and soon, it’ll be the Holiday season. I recently celebrated my birthday and I’ve seen people flock to malls. But as much as I delight in seeing ~some things~ go back to normal, it also bothers me how people seem to have forgotten that there is STILL a pandemic. Don’t get me wrong– I still want to celebrate Christmas, but in a safe manner. It also makes me anxious that people will be too comfortable “going out” as soon as the holiday rush sets in. How will Christmas in the #NewNormal be celebrated?

For today’s entry, (as seen in the title) I’ll be talking about how the quarantine affected me. I wanted to write this entry weeks ago, but I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to do so. So yeah, in this entry I’ll be listing down some of the changes that I have observed in me ever since the quarantine started more than 8 months ago. It’s so unlikely for the majority to be stuck at home and far from the old way of living that we all had. What’s even more saddening is that we don’t know when this will all end. *shrugs*

As soon as WHO declared ‘it’ as a global pandemic, classes in the local areas were initially suspended. I had a bad feeling about it and so I took home all of my teaching resources and started working on the quarterly exams and final grades. Eventually, the school year prematurely ended without a formal culmination – no graduation, year-end event, etc. The summer (which did not seem like an actual summer) began soon after and the quarantine protocols became stricter and stricter. It led to the temporary closure of establishments, loss of jobs, and sadly, the increase in the number of cases.

With that being said, let me give you my list of the changes this 9-month long quarantine has brought me.

The Quarantine Made Me Socially, Morally, and Politically Aware.

During the years prior, I had this constant discomfort with bad governance and ill-conceived policies. Once a law or a public servant steps over one or any of my values, I would feel the need to express my opinions but I would also be too afraid to stand up for it as some people may tell me that I’m too young to get involved. But now that I’m an adult and a teacher by profession, I feel the need to speak up – not only for me, but also for those who can’t speak for themselves. Furthermore, if I can amplify their voices and use my platform to raise awareness, I will.

I’ve been constantly disheartened by the things that happened while we were under a strict quarantine– workers lost jobs, people got arrested, businesses shut down, and frontliners got sick. It’s plain to see that the pandemic response of the country was derailed from the get go, and you can tell it by the lack of massive testing, insufficient contact tracing, and faulty protocols. Now, here we are– still stuck in our homes and the risk of getting sick is still there. The situation could have been better had we employed preventive measures– flight bans, medical solutions, and isolation among others. The elected officials owe the public a competent leadership and comprehensive plans.

The Quarantine Made Me Check My Privileges

Yes, you read it right! Talking about privileges, I, for one, did not come from an affluent background, but I have always had my needs in check– tuition fees, new clothes from time to time, 3 or more full meals per day, and a quite comfortable home. I may not have all the things I want, but I’m definitely privileged compared to other Filipinos who suffered severely since the lockdown started. I acknowledge that fact, so as soon as donation drives surfaced, I started donating small amounts to certain causes. If I can spend money on shopping and pricey drinks, I definitely have the money to support those who are in need.

With the recent typhoons that hit the country, I became very vocal on social media about how I support relief operations and donation drives. I may not be personally there to help, but I know I can still provide assistance from afar. Despite my efforts to support these causes, this does not mean that I did not experience financial difficulties during the ECQ. Just like what I said, the school year prematurely ended in March, but I believe we were supposed to work until the first week of April. I know that my struggle is nothing compared to what other people experienced, and that’s the reason why I’m using my privilege for good.

The Quarantine Made Me Process My Emotions and Assess My Mental Health

If you’re someone from my circle, you would know that I’m an escapist. I hate facing problems, addressing my emotions, and dealing with confrontations. It does not mean that I’m in denial of the problem, it’s just that I despise addressing them because what’s the point? People care but not enough to apologize or change the behavior that hurt me in the first place. Or at least that’s how I used to think. The quarantine helped me process my emotions and I went through some of the deepest scars that I used to cover up. It was liberating, but emotionally exhausting as well.

I’m still an escapist, but I use escaping for better reasons this time. I use it as a thinking time, a processing period for me to realize where I went wrong and how I want to solve situations. I have gotten over my “what if’s” and “could have been’s” over the lockdown. I’ve made peace with my past, and I’m currently dealing with what’s in front of me– my present demons. I needed that release, and the quarantine gave me sooo much time to do it. I must say that I’m handling things better, and even if I escape the situation, I come back with a definite solution in mind.

The Quarantine Made Me Decide that I’m Too Old for Some Things

TikTok? I don’t know her. HAHA! Let’s go to something light and quite positive this time. I know there have been A LOT of trends that came up when everyone was stuck at home, and I’m quite horrified by the things that people can do out of boredom. Oh well, most of friends have succumbed to the craze. Then, there’s me– the one untouched. HAHA! I just decided I’m too old to dance in front of my phone, take a video of myself, and share it on that app. Can I just say how hard I cringe at myself in videos? Ugh. #nevertried lol

The Quarantine Made Me Rest and Take a Break from the Old Normal Lifestyle

Quite frankly, I used to splurge a lot on food during the old normal, which I still do, but now it’s in moderation. Aside from that, I shopped regularly and buy unnecessary things to compensate for the times when I felt like I lacked in material things. Isn’t it so unhealthy? But how was I supposed to know at that time, when I was working so hard day and night, and the only thing that validates my hard work is when I see my hard earned money go somewhere? In this case, it goes into food and shopping items. *insert my friends’ constant advice for me to stop spending*

Looking at it now, the way I used to “live” was so unsustainable. A friend used to say, “You never know when the next economic crisis it going to happen.” And it just did, right at the start of the new decade that we were all looking forward to. It made me realize how valuable money is, and that it should be in places where it will grow in quantity and in value. But here I am, once again, circling back to the old lifestyle. I guess it’s me searching for a sense of normalcy and validation as I’ve been working from home for the past 4 months. All I can say this time is “send help.” *note sarcasm*

So there, this is where the list ends… for now. We’re still stuck in quarantine so I guess the list will go on until we fully win against this pandemic. I’ve been so busy lately that I didn’t even realize how near Christmas is. Well, the rush is slowly setting in, and the guidelines for the Christmas celebration for this year was already released a couple of days ago. Let me remind you to stay safe and vigilant all the time. Practice social distancing as much as you can and stay at home unless it’s for essential business. I know we are all craving for the usual Christmas celebrations like Simbang Gabi, Christmas carols, and parties.

But trust me, we’ll all have that when this is all over. For now, we’ll have to celebrate in the #NewNormal way. We may not be rejoicing in the same manner, but the reason to make merry is still the same. This may not be a good year for some, but there is something good and something to be thankful for if look enough to find them. Or actually, we don’t have to look elsewhere. The mere fact that we are still here, thriving despite being under challenging situations, is enough to be thankful for. Advance merry Christmas everyone and don’t forget to wear a mask!

Till the next entry!

Bry. x 112120

[truthcakes]

Drafting.

Yeah, I had hesitated in tagging you on that because I was pretty certain you’d get pissed off as a result...I wanted you to know about the food, since it was a time sensitive thing. I should have abstained.

“Is it a me reason or a you reason[...]?”

It’s both. It’s a lot of reasons.

[this is long and wordy, I apologize for that, and have no expectations as to the timing of when you’ll finish reading this. I do ask that you take the time to truly read everything though. It was incredibly frustrating how you repeatedly would skip over the lines in our heavier talks that pertained to things that were less than pleasant. I shouldn’t have had to repeatedly narrow down the lines to a specific wording to get you to stop ignoring a question. I’m asking that this not be the case again. Please, read everything when you can. Take your time, but go through all of it. Even re-read if that helps.]

It’s been me ignoring you for two weeks because I didn’t want to have a conversation I knew would be upsetting. To me and, I’m making an assumption here, to you as well. So I’ve been avoiding it. Bad habit, I know. I’ve been ignoring it because “I don’t have it in me for this yet.” Wash, rinse, repeat. Garbage. Even writing this I keep starting to get distracted because I would rather be doing /anything/ else that’s not writing this out because it sucks and I know it’s going to be upsetting. But that’s not fair to you, and it hasn’t /been/ fair to you. There’s only so long I can guiltily ignore a tough topic. Painful or not, information is better than not knowing. It is unfair and cruel of me to be ghosting you.

so

I still feel weird about the fight. I lost the sturdy trust and safety I had with you when we had that fight. A lot of things came up that were clear glaring issues, and I have trouble accepting, and respecting, that you’d hear all those issues and decide that it’s just Fine. It has felt like you were content with settling, and I can’t respect that as a choice. “This is fine” isn’t something I would or could tolerate in a friendship or any kind of relationship. Seeing you go through that process of compromising and being absolutely fine with it, I lost a lot of respect for you. And that hasn’t come back, much as I was hoping it was going to.

Going through that fight, even with the likely cause being something medical, it changed things. And it took a few days to realize, but having that come up so suddenly planted a seed of fear in me. Now I’m just worried that any regular ol interaction could turn into you snapping on me and launching into another multi-day battle that, at the end, will have the expectation of being brushed aside after an apology and debrief. So...that’s definitely been a factor in the avoidance here. And, regardless of the cause, it still happened. And so now there’s the [apparently] permanent undercurrent of me being afraid that you’ll lash out at me again. Knowing that it likely stemmed from a hormone issue doesn’t make things easier, either. It’s not fair, it’s not something you can control. But I can’t change the fact that I’m straight up afraid of what you’ll do. It’s not massive, overwhelming fear, but it is still there. I’m not willing to get close to people who I am afraid of, to any degree. It’s not something I am willing to tolerate, I refuse to settle for feeling uncomfortable and [even mildly] unsafe around someone I am emotionally intimate with. I can handle that from folks I’m not so close to, I can keep them at arms length and prevent myself from getting hurt. If someone, if you, are in my innermost circle, there’s such a high possibility of getting hurt again and I owe it to myself to create a space where I do not feel afraid to simply exist.

I can be casual friends with people who I may not trust entirely. I do it a lot. There are a ton of folks who I am happy to have conversations with, maybe even go grab a bite to eat or attend a concert with, who I wouldn’t want to spend a weekend alone with, who I wouldn’t even dream of living with. I can build structure and safety within those situations. But with people I’m closer to, the thing they gain access to is me without any defenses, because I don’t /need/ them. Simply, I don’t have that complete feeling of safety anymore, and that’s not something I am able or willing to overlook. I am comfortable with being causal friends, but I no longer want to be emotionally intimate with you to the same degree because of a number of factors.

-

One of the things that you and I had talked about during/post the fight was how I hadn’t distanced myself more because I didn’t want you to be alone. Because I felt like you’d been entrusted to me, and you were/are someone who needs that level of support. A level of support that I explained I was never really comfortable being. And somehow, you were okay with that. You used the phrase of it being a “pity friendship,” and essentially spat on the idea[rightly so, imo], but you still ended with being okay with that. I can’t wrap my head around being okay with it after knowing explicitly that it was the case. With being so very opposed to something that, really, is a shitty dynamic. But you are. And I don’t think I can be okay with you being okay with that. It reads to me as you’re fine with being treated like crap

I need you to want better than that. You deserve better than that, but it seems like you don’t think the same. And that specifically is incredibly hard for me to respect. I have not been able to be the level of support that you are asking for, and I’ve said that for a long time. But instead of figuring out how to get your needs met elsewhere, you’ve made a long series of compromises, deciding that things were “close enough” for it to be okay. There’s also always been this undercurrent for me of it feeling like you were running things through a translator. Like when I explained that I didn’t have romantic feelings for anyone, you said that it was “close enough” and it was fine.

You also addressed and said that you would not want a “fringe friendship” of only seeing each other every few weeks. When I said that’s what this was going to be, you suddenly said okay. The way you responded to that part of our talk felt desperate. It felt like you were racing to make things acceptable to me so that you wouldn’t be left alone, and I felt like a desperate option that you were clinging to, even as it was crumbling in your hands. 

-

We went through what was, for all intents and purposes, a breakup. And a messy one, at that. I went through the stages of processing, trying to mend it, then accepting that things were over, as much as that hurt. Basically we had the funeral for the friendship, but then the doctor ran in and shouted “WAIT! They’re not dead!” as everyone as walking away from the freshly filed plot.

I went through the grieving. I figured out how to adjust my world. And then I was expected to rewind all of that. To put aside the good and bad feelings that came from the break up and act like nothing had happened. As though the issues we’d discussed simply weren’t issues anymore. I realized I was relieved to have the distance. I was given the space to look at things objectively, and I realized that as sad as I was, it felt better to be moving apart and towards a more comfortable standing for both of us. Issues that had been issues for months, years, suddenly didn’t have to be problems for either of us anymore. I took a breath and realized that I was okay with the change. I was okay with us moving on and figuring out how to be not as close as we were before, while still being around each other and sharing parts of our lives. Still playing games together, and being in the same social circles, without being primary supports.

I was telling someone the day after our movie sleepover about my evening, and that I had watched this cute movie with one of my friends. As quickly as I had said it, I noticed that I had referred to you as a “Friend” and not a “best friend,” as I had historically when referring to you. This was really a Big Thing for me, as more often than not, my words betray my feelings before I truly realize what’s going on. That small change in wording said a /lot/ about how I felt about you, and highlighted to me that the way I felt about you really solidly had changed, and in a way that was much more permanent than the feelings around being wounded from the fight. Before, I’d struggled to find the right word for who you were to me, and how to describe you, shorthand, to someone who didn’t know you. I would flit between “one of my People,” “not-quite partner,” “platonic partner,” “close friend,” and after a while settled out to “best friend[of a couple years]” because it concisely described to other folks our friendship. But to have “my friend” flow out without hesitation or a thought said a lot more, and I realized in that moment that it really was true. I still consider you a friend, meaning that I still care about your well-being, want you to be happy and flourish, and still enjoy interacting with you. I like that you live nearby, and that by coming over I can visit two of my friends at once. But I wasn’t thinking of you as a best friend anymore, and that spurred the introspection that led to me realizing everything I’ve written above. The biggest part of that was realizing the undercurrent of distrust, and that I now had lost that feeling of safety I used to associate with you. Not to such a huge degree that I didn’t want to associate with you anymore, that’s something that would take a much bigger event and/or a violation of some boundary for me to reach. But I knew that somewhere in that time, I’d moved you to the spot of being a familiar but casual friend. And that worked, for me. Does work. If we can actually maintain that.

Part of the distancing on my end was not trusting that we could actually have a casual friendship without you wanting/expecting it to go back to how it was before. I didn’t trust that you could keep your distance, and I wasn’t giving you any chances to prove it. But also from how the fight had ended, it didn’t sound like you really intended to do things any differently aside from a few words being changed. Not saying “I love you” was significant, and I appreciate that because it showed you were listening to me and what I was asking. But I wasn’t seeing anything changing other than a few select words. And maybe that’s more on my end than I’m realizing. Maybe I got too in my head and worked things up bigger than they are. Iunno. 

Your proposed plan of not coming to as many of my events, because you’d only go to ones you actually wanted to attend, that worked. I was on board with being less involved in family stuff. I was here for us overall having less connection, because there were such glaringly huge incompatibilities between us. What our fight highlighted to me was that we had things that simply did not mesh together, and that wasn’t anybody’s fault. It simply is how we are as people. Trying to meet our needs. Nothing more, nothing less. And then conversation went right back to the same way it had been before the fight even happened. It felt like nothing was going to change. So, instead of explaining things more, and maybe giving you that space to try it out, I cut things off and stopped responding. And then the messages you sent during my silence sounded exactly the same as all the ones we’d exchanged before our big discussion. 

The last few days I’ve been mulling over what to say to you, because I know full well that you have been owed an explanation. Like I opened with, ghosting you was unfair and cruel. I don’t expect this letter to undo that, as I will still have performed the action of ignoring you for two weeks. No way around that, and I am sorry for the length of time I took.

I need you to be able to get support from other sources. I need to not be your One And Only support beam stateside. I’m not willing to be that for literally anybody. Is that selfish? A bit, yes. But it’s what I’ve learned I need in life. These aren’t expectations I’m only holding you to, or a special rule I’m breaking. I need those closest to me to have other folks they are close to as well, as I’ve always said, because I need to know I can disappear and live my life and that they will still be taken care of. I need this to mean more than just financials. I need them to be able to care for themselves, or at least have more of a network for when extra help is needed. I need those in my life to not be living /for/ me, or revolving around me. I need them to live for themselves. I don’t want anybody depending on me for help or attention or validation. I need those close to me to make choices because it is what they need in life. Because it is what will help them flourish as a person. Because it is what makes them happy. If me leaving is the thing it takes for you to be able to continue on that path that you’ve already made so much progress along, then that’s where it is. 

I hope that all made sense. Again, I apologize for how wordy it is. I wanted to be really certain that I was being thorough and explaining all of my feelings on the matter, while also not getting overly emotional and swept up in Feels.

[book-of-ryker]

The Here’s my problem: I don’t understand people and their motivations: I participate calmly in a hostile environment.  I listen to everyone’s arguments, and it sounds like everyone is supposed to be “messing with each other” but why is that our only goal? What happened to the group feeling good? I read in the news about terrorism and nuclear bombs. There are an estimated 14,900 nuclear bombs in the world. The largest thing ever done on the surface of our planet (which is overwhelmingly small, mind you when compared to the overall size of the planet in density and volume) was the Tsar Bomb by the Russians in 1961.. The Earth might or might not be going through strong evidence of severe climate change I don’t understand. Why do we bully ourselves so? It is out of fear. A place of egotistical nature because we are so TERRIFIED at the idea of coming under attack.  We lash out at others for joke or for tragedy.  We don’t trust anyone and it hurts us. The aforementioned hypotheses you have just read is a manic rant I will have with myself daily. I am tortured with myself daily. It has come to the point of just being. On the day to day, I float along and try to ignore these voices. I have learned how to meditate. I have learned how to I'm sorry, Jenni, I' experience sever bouts of bipolar disorder, and I have to disconnect from the world sometimes. I don't understand what motivates us anymore as a species and I live in constant dread of that as the umbrella we decide to live under, emotionally. I see people possessed by our phones, while yes, insane, but also mesmerizing and wonderful. I mean, look, I'm not around you anymore. I haven't been within a comfortable experience. I feel like a hug would suffice and make me feel warm. But I live in fear of you because I want to learn how to love you. I want to sit for hours and talk with you. I would do this with everyone I knew in band. I loved that. I'm 26. That's almost a decade ago, of the senior tip of our adventures. For awhile, we were family. I was in the Navy. I've seen thousands of people. Thousands and thousands of people. I made friends with tons of them. Lifelong relationships that are now fading into the realm of imagination. We lose these wonderful people. They're everywhere though. They're you. They're me. Everyone that could ever read this hopefully knows that I have always done these sort of rants. I've been bipolar my entire life. I have really good mental recall for information and I just recite facts because I think, after my mom died, I went into another world of the mind. Just pure recording information. I have learned how the entire human spectrum of maps out. For me, i'ts an up and down roller coaster through the fucking day, constant and just dreadful. I sit and I feel down and down and down.Because I can't understand how things tend to become shitty. Why do things grow old with the arrow of time..Why do we choose to follow this path of hurt and torture, Jenni?What is it about feelings that are so bad? I mean, yes, they are tremendous and monumentally painful? Isn't that a part of life? Isn't that just another varying shade of white? For example, I'm listening to a Jon's Snow Theme Soundtrack. It's a twenty minutes of pure music porn to a female. I'm not saying it's bad, at all. It's literally orgasmic when we hear it being played through whenever we hear it.It takes a spot in our mind, this television show in our mind that's played for us. We buy into this instinctual drama that isn't real. We  drink out of this fountain of information, coming into us constantly. And it's just raw bad data. The world is going to shit. And we're all here arguing about it because we're all so fucking smart with our goddamned opinions. Why don't we trust the scientists?I'm asking as the most powerful man that's capable of understanding the ingenuity of the realm that is not in fact an actual scientist. We all divide into these cells of division, whether in a cabin of Northwest, Florida, a bar in Japan, a port in the Phillipines. We become individualized when we are stuck in the same place.We all get too comfortable in one place in the world. Do, do, do. Things must be done, things must be said. When we forget to remember that we are all dying. I might not ever see you again, Jenni.This Facebook and Instagram have put these mental barriers in our mind that act almost like a prison cell. We love it. This unadulterated information is absolute pleasure. It's why we do it, and we don't even know why we're doing it. It's just biology being parasitically sucked by technology. Just another part of the evolution of change in this huge spectrum of life that's ever occurred on this rock, hurtling through space. There are about 14, 900 nuclear bombs in the world. This developed from using a stick, or a rock or something. Our hands morphed into these guitar playing, skateboarding, music making, hand writing fingers to two men arguing about how their buttons are bigger, if not but for attention. Like, if either of them actually means that, it's like finding out not only one person on the bus is wearing a bomb vest, but there are now technically two wearing bomb vests, if not more because other countries are going to bomb you because of politics. Which is emotionally traumatic and it’s what we’re reading about here, in this imaginary world.  We’ve resorted to memes and tide pods and commercials for our daily living. Buy this, drink that. Do all the things cool, or you’ll have to actually feel anything. I’m bipolar as fuck. Those dudes are in government AND in the military and they're both fucking insane. The technology we use has developed massively since 1961, which is when the Tsar Bomba was dropped. If you made it this far, I’ll make this fact more fun for you, instead of me sounding like a egomaniacal dipshit that wants to impress you, maybe I’m actually trying to see if I can convince you on what I think is cool, if not but for a moment to listen to a story that I know you’ve never heard.  I think I deserve to be heard.  Let me sit in your living room, smoke a bowl or two with you and make sure I don’t end up in some shithole in Washington with my finger up my ass trying to carry heroine.  I have to live a solid line and people are so divided now, we can’t actually get anywhere.  It’s all been latched down by money, another tooth from the technological bite. I can’t walk around and just pick whatever food I next see.  It’s processed or garbage, nothing that grows like a tree. I’d have to be homeless. I can’t wander around anymore.  If technology becomes so advanced (it gets the nutrients it needs from us as far as the building blocks for it’s research and development) then it will exist as the simulated world of reality.  LOOK AT HOW MUCH WE’RE ON OUR PHONES, IF PUBLIC OR PRIVATE. I play the guitar. I write and write and write and write and I just wish to be heard even though I emotionally feel like I’m falling down a well because only a few people have ever really heard about what I said because everyone is afraid of me somehow, and I don’t know how. Everywhere I’ve gone in this world, there are people that just can’t understand me and I want to know why and they won’t explain themselves and I’m just sick of it. It’s all over this planet now. Everywhere that has first rate technology. The jewels of civilization.  There are 660 million people in the world without water, but politics has gone awry and made it somehow illegal between countries to not have access to water. People want the power. Most of you would go mad with power. You’d be like a Game of Thrones character, either fucking Jon Snow or mouth fucking Daenerys or making love to your sister.  Regimes are moved in and out of office, whether by terms or murder.  Assassination just makes us sound that much more cool, but not actually believing it anymore.  One dictator surrounded himself with voluptuous women as an exhibition of the jewels he must have because he is still living.  Who the fuck cares, yeah? Except that man has killed people or had people killed. That’s like me sticking a rifle in your mouth and telling you to beg me not to pull the trigger. That dude has lived that.  Which means that you here on your phone or however you’re reading this, not realizing that the dude next to you has a bomb vest, again. Clearly, we’re all wearing this bomb vest.  We will die, with or without technology.  Inevitably and in no meaningful way, we all die. This is the fact that everything might boil down to for biology. If we don’t blow ourselves up, or boil ourselves off the face of the Earth. Check this little science out. Mercury has surface (there’s no atmosphere) temperature of 800 degrees Fahrenheit. You can Google this.  “Surface temperature of Mercury” and it will display in black, which means it’s hella fucking true. “Surface Temperature of Venus” Thick motherfucking atmosphere, as received by Venera 4 on Wikipedia. The editing skills for Google is skill-checked by people with higher educations. The scholars mind you, but apparently, they don’t have enough money because they are all apparently doing it for free. They would then have no motivation to propagate information to you, would they? If hey’re being honest, which is how we should perceive people if we don’t want to lose our minds. We should trust the information that comes our way, but ask ourselves why we need that information coming into our eyes. Do we believe it? Why do we believe it? What purpose does believing it have? What consequences would believing it be?  We all get so wrapped up in this huge and great world of just raw information to where it’s forced us to believe we have our phones in our faces, but we’re actually out here living.  I don’t understand people and their motivation. What do they do on those phones? What do they learn?  Are they trying to attack me? Why are we trying to attack each other. Because everyone has had something bad happen to them in their entire life.  My mother, Renee, killed herself when I was three and 28 days before my brother turned eight, which would have been April 30th, 1995. A Sunday. I am told she was devoutly Catholic.  I was even baptized Catholic, as I have been told. I have a label so that I can have boundaries in explaining myself and who I think I am, so that you can understand what that means, but I’m not actually Catholic.  I think the Catholic Church helps a lot of people. But it also doesn’t and hasn’t helped people because we’re all addicted to power.  But I digress. Renee, my mom, a mother of three. I was told in an aisle at Target, the electronics section by the DVD’s in Pace, Florida. I was off to join the NAvy, and my dad took the time out of his day to tell me because my father lives in fear. My father is not a superhero, albeit I wish he could have always been because he’s my dad. He fed me for years and years and years. I grew to love him because he had always been fun. Back then, I’d learned how to just be, coming up with some wonderful tales that I’ll never forget. I lived in those moments of pure joy with all of my friends.  We didn’t have technology except for maybe a Nintendo 64.  We didn’t have any responsibility in the world. I can go on for days and days and days.  My mom killed herself because her father had been raping her for her entire life.  I have asked around as a man to women who knew my mother in Milton High School, Florida. I am from Milton High School as I am an alum.  I ate in the same cafeteria that my mother died.  I believe that while purely coincidental, it must have been nudged by some sort of fate. It felt good for me to believe in the torture of that reality. Now I know that I will find any reason to believe that she was there, when all evidence suggests she can’t be. I must be happy, for I am alive. I rant and rave and I don’t really know if this can ever deserve an ending.  When people don’t read my stuff because they’re so preoccupied with their lives, probably a lot of that in technology, no one ever wants to listen for whatever reason and maybe it’s good, bag or ugly. Who the fuck cares? No one does. That’s the point of why I think we’re all fucked.