#but when she looked at the clock 18 minutes into our 30 minute session and then KEPT. TALKING!!! i was over it

[joyridingmp3]

cancelled all future singing lessons 😌

[wtnrscap]

Cursed Words- Daybreak

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bruce Banner, mentions of past Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton.

Summary- The fourth time it happens, you find out what you’ve been doing by accident, but don’t know how to help. Bucky refuses to talk about his feelings until you give him a proposition, something to work for. And for the first time, it feels to Bucky as though things are finally going the right way.

Warnings- (18+) Mentions of blood, death, injury detail, PTSD, panic and anxiety attacks. Fluff. Swearing. Dirty talk, dirty fantasies. Eventual smut.

A/N- This is gonna be a leading onto a longer chapter with more triggering subjects. I like to think the plot is gonna start moving forward now because I think it’s been a bit slow. Taglist is open.

Cursed Words Masterlist

The clock on the wall taunts Bucky. Moving so slowly he thinks it might start going backwards. He keeps his eyes trained on it, counting the seconds down till she lets him go. It was only an hour but it could of been 100 years for all he knew.

She shifts in her seat, her eyes on him, her face calm, waiting for a moment that would never come. She wanted him to talk, admit his feelings, but Bucky had been brought up in the 30s, where men didn’t do that. Being the eldest of four meant he often didn’t have time to worry about his own feelings and when he started looking out Steve, selfcare went out the window. It was strange to him, to be sitting in this prison of white walls, with someone asking him how he felt.

The timer on the coffee table rings out, high-pitched and she sighs, crossing her arms, “You can go now, James.”

He hated that she called him that. He hates the way she talks to him. He hates her. He knows nothing about her, not even bothering to learn her name but he knows he hates her.

“Do I have come tomorrow?” he asks, already knowing her answer. An unnecessary glance at her schedule and a nod of the head, “Yes, James.”

“I don’t see why-”

“Captain Rogers wants you to talk about and explore your past. You haven’t done that. You have come here everyday for 3 weeks and we have sat in silence. You need to work with me here.”

Bucky’s face twists and he turns, leaving the room with a stomp. He hates Steve. He hates everyone who tells him to talk and let it all out. But he can’t hate you. The reason for his being there. He’s tried to hate you, but he just can’t do it. It’s impossible to hate you.

-

Allison opens the door before you’ve even had the chance to knock. Her face says it all and you sit down with a grumble, “Doesn’t he realise that the longer he keeps up this silence, the longer he’ll be off missions? He’s an arsehole.”

“He knows,” responds Allison, “He’s just been through a lot and it’s hard for him to open up.”

You cock an eyebrow, “You don’t need to talk all therapist to me. He’s being arsehole because he knows he can.”

Allison tucks Bucky’s file under her arm and sits next to you, “Actually... I think he’s needs some... motivation...”

“Motivation?”

“Look,” Allison sighs, “As a therapist I can’t bribe people to open up to me and I’m not supposed encourage other people to bribe customers to open up to me but I think Bucky needs some help. You like him, right?”

“Yeah...”

“So give him a proposition. Tell him if he makes an effort in our sessions, tries to talk to me and tries to get better, then you will let him take you on a date.”

Your eyes widen, “Allison! I don’t even know if he likes me like that!”

“I mentioned you once and his eyes lit up like fireworks. The boy likes you. There’s just something holding him back. That’s what I’m here for. But he needs a push. Someone or something to force his hand. I think this could really work,” Allison stands and looks down at you, “At least think about it.”

-

A relaxed atmosphere had settled in the games room of the compound. A rare day where everyone was home, a day where the Avengers wanted to be surrounded by each other. Sam, Steve, Tony and Rhodey were fighting over snooker while Vision, Bruce and Thor caught up over stories of Asgard. Nat was creating crazy drinks from behind the bar, overlooked by Bucky, and you were sat with Wanda and Pepper, playing a a surprisingly calm game of Uno. You liked to revel in these moments, when everyone was together and happy. A shout from across the room jolts you, “You cheated, Capsicle!”

“I did not! The ball fell in by itself. You’re just a sore loser!”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Whatever, I’m done with this... this... GAME OF LIES! Let’s play truth or dare!”

The whole room groaned, but it took only minutes for everyone to gather on the leather chairs, an empty beer bottle on the table. Tony span it and every eye watched as it landed on Sam. Poor Sam, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. Tony grinned wickedly, “Truth or dare, Birdbrain?”

“Dare...?”

“I dare you to kiss the person you find most attractive, and if isn’t Cap, then I’m gonna be very disappointed.”

Sam scanned the room, his eyes bristling over Nat, Wanda, Pepper and eventually landing on you. You groan as he stands and makes his way over, “Please don’t... Sam, please...”

His lips connect with yours in a surprisingly good and respectful kiss as the room cheers. Sam pulls back with a flush, “It was you or Pepper and I really don’t feel like dying today.”

“You mean me and Wanda weren’t even considered?” snaps Nat with glare and Sam flushes even more as he spins the bottle. After a few turns it lands on Steve who quickly spits out, “Dare.”

“Take your jacket and shirt off. Give the people what they want.”

To anyone else, that wouldn’t have been so bad, but to Steve, it was a nightmare. Stripping off was reserved for the bedroom and the swimming pool, not for late night entertainment. But he took it like a man and soon you were shamelessly eyeing his body. He spotted it quickly, “Stop drooling, Y/N!”

“Am I not allowed to appreciate a good-looking man?”

Steve rolled his eyes and span the bottle, looking fairly relieved when it landed on Bucky, “True or dare, pal?”

Bucky shrugged, “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell us your biggest fear.”

A chrous of moans circulated around the room at how rubbish the dare was but Bucky had gone pale, prompting everyone to think that it might not be so bad. Steve interrupted quickly, “You don’t have to tell us if-”

“It’s fine. My biggest fear is that Y/N will keep saying my trigger words. She keeps saying them without knowing and they keep activating Winter. It’s why I run from her. It’s easier than to admit that I’m scared of turning into the Winter Soldier permanently. The words only effect me when she says them. My therapist would probably tell me that that means something deeper.”

The room had gone silent. Everyone was either staring at you or Bucky. Without thinking, you dived across the room to Bucky, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I thought you were running from because you hated me!”

“I could never hate you! The therapy is supposed to be helping me move forward but I just don’t wanna talk to her. I feel like I’m taking one step forward and two steps backward.”

The therapy... THE THERAPY!

You grab the bottle and pass it to Nat, “Spin the bottle and make sure it lands on me. When it does, ‘i’m gonna say truth. Ask me about the proposition.”

Nat raises her eyebrows but does as she’s told, angling the bottle so it lands on you, “Truth or dare, my dear friend.”

“Truth.”

“Tell us all about this very interesting proposition.”

You face the group, one hand on Bucky’s leg, the other rubbing your bottom lip anxiously, “If Bucky makes an effort in therapy, if he talks to Allison and tries to get better and if Steve gets the word that he is moving forward...” you turn to Bucky with a small smile on your painted lips, “I’ll let let you take me on a date. A date where you’re in control. You pick the time, the place, what we do, it’s all up to you. But you have to make an effort. You have to want to get better. And I really hope you do, because... I would love a daybreak date.”

Bucky flinches violently, almost tipping you off the chair. Quickly, he grabs you with a flush, fighting himself as the face looms through the darkness. But it’s like a tunnel now. One end is darkness, and the Winter Soldier with all the deaath and despair while the other is light and you, your hand outstretched, offering him a chance at redemption. He’s never seen a light before, and the hope spilling out almost kills him. He has a chance.

“Bucky?” your sweet voice drags him out of his thoughts and he locks eyes with you, “Bucky, are you okay? Did I say a word?”

Bucky nods his head and you sigh deeply, “I’m so sorry. But does that sound like a deal?”

“Doll...” Bucky whispers weakly, and the pet name makes you shiver, “I don’t know if I can-”

“But I know you can. I trust you. And I’ll wait. I understand that this isn’t going to go away in a few weeks. Just... agree to it... Please...”

A huff from across the table makes you look up to see Tony rolling his eyes, “Hey, Farquaad, a beautiful girl offers you a chance to get a date with her you don’t refuse, you agree!”

Bucky’s eyes are wet and he wraps his arms around your neck, hiding his face in your hair, “I agree. I wanna get better for you. If you believe I can, then I will really try.”

The room erupts into cheers, Steve patting his friend on the back with a smile while Nat screams, “Finally! I thought you two would never get past the awkward sexual tension phase!”

You smile widely as a laugh from Bucky vibrates through your body. Allison was right. Bucky needed a gentle push, and this was it. You know the problem isn’t solved, but it’s a start.

Bucky pushes the bleak out of his mind. The horrible images of blood, death, and trauma begin to fade. They’re not gone and they won’t be gone for a long time, but they’re going and he has a chance to get rid of them forever. He knows he has to grasp this with both hands. And with you by his side, he knows he can do it. He knows he could always do it.

[hollenka99]

Unus Annus - November

354. Accepting the Truth, 6:11, 2.8M (Nov 1st) - While sitting by the pool, Mark and Ethan announce that a livestream will happen on the 13th so that the audience can join them in reminiscing over the past year and watching the channel be deleted live.

355. The Unus Annus Last Supper, 26:58, 2.6M (Nov 2nd) - Amy creates a 7 course meal for Mark and Ethan based on various past videos. This includes eggnog with bug biscuits, them having 3 minutes to eat a raw onion and edible items of a mature nature.

356. Being Brutally Honest with Each Other, 26:14, 2.2M (Nov 3rd) - Mark and Ethan reflect on how well they have worked together during the course of the channel’s run. Some things that were revealed consisted of them having to re-evaluate their communication after the wall punch, Mark committing to bits even if they start going a little far and how Ethan could build his acting skills. There is a heartfelt moment where Ethan expresses how grateful he is to have Mark as a friend and someone to learn off of, which ends in tears.

357. Recreating Every Single Unus Annus Video, 45:11, 3.2M (Nov 4th) - Amy reads out the title of videos in chronological order while Mark and Ethan do something quick to re-enact that video. Alexa misinterprets a command, some episode segments are just them wondering who came up with the titles and Amy gets confused by a few titles that state she shouldn’t know about them.

358. All Our Video Ideas That Never Happened, 25:13, 1.8M (Nov 5th) - They discuss the videos that never were, including potential collabs, things the pandemic prevented from happening and ideas that were best left not attempted. 

359. Who’s Cutting Onions In Here???, 22:24, 2M (Nov 6th) - The two of them spend the entire video cutting onions and talking about the channel. They discuss their expectations when they started the channel, how they were affected by the deaths of family members and how they would like to die.

360. The 1st Annual Unus Annus Roast, 16:41, 1.7M (Nov 7th) - On Twitter, they invited the viewers to send in their roasts. They just laugh at most of them but a few they roast the poster back. One of the cameras produced corrupted footage so they had to lipsync at times. 

361. God’s Fitness Test, 22:58, 1.9M (Nov 8th) - Along with their personal trainers, they form two teams which consist of Mark and Alex vs Ethan and Andre. They do push ups where you have to have all four limbs airborne during part of it, a burpee hybrid, a race where Mark and Ethan carry their trainers on their backs, weightlifting with squats and a sprinting challenge. 

362. Saying Goodbye to All Our Guests, 39:44, 2.2M (Nov 9th) - Mark and Ethan call up some of the people they’ve worked with in videos over the past year to thank them. Upon learning The Basement LA (where they did the escape room in December) was in financial trouble due to the pandemic, they offer to donate the ad revenue from the escape room video to help them out.

363. Everything’s Legal If You’re Dead, 24:50, 2.2M (Nov 10th) - Mark and Ethan attempt to make breakfast with sex toys again. However, this time they steal the products they got from the shop and Mark’s lawyer Ryan tries to discourage them from their plans of insurance fraud.

364. 7 Minutes in Heaven | 7 Minutes in Hell, 12:41, 1.9M (Nov 11th) - In new inflatable saunas, they are sent to Heaven and Hell with items previously featured in past videos. Ethan goes to Heaven where he receives the scent of essential oils, kiwis, a cupping session using a mouth instead of the cups and wax on his face. Mark, meanwhile, is subjected to Hell where the aromatherapy is of the onion variety, his mouth is filled with hot dogs and the straw his dogs may have used as a toilet is laid at his feet.

365. The Unus Annus Annual Sleepover, 17:17, 2.3M (Nov 12th) - Ethan goes to Mark’s home to spend the night. They shoot cans while the other hides behind the targets, make popcorn as well as friendship bracelets and play truth or dare. Ethan decorates his bracelet for Mark with 'My Pal Annus' while Mark puts 'EEF' inbetween Takis that had been in his mouth. Towards the end, the two of them share a glass of champagne before settling down for the night. At various points, the signature ticking sound is heard.

366. Goodbye., 12:00:00, 1M (Nov 13th - Nov 14th) - This is the farewell livestream. The two of them sit with a television that displays the timer inbetween them. Throughout the 12 hours, they show the editors’ highlight reels, watch and comment on a few videos, look through fanart and memes as well as welcome guests. When there’s around 3 hours to go, Ethan gets 00:00:00 tattooed on his left arm by DanielleSkyeee. They promise that if the stream receives 1 million likes, they will reveal the inside of their coffin and possibly get inside. With less than an hour to go, this does indeed happen, with the fake eulogies making them emotional and the coffin is dubbed the ‘Cry Box’. As the hours become not only minutes but seconds, Mark, Ethan and Amy gather around the laptop so they can press the delete button together. The clock finally reaches 00:00:00, leaving the audience with a black screen as well as a channel that no longer exists.

1. Unus Annus, 1:52, 10M (Nov 15th) - Introductory video explaining the premise of the channel.

2. Cooking with Sex Toys, 12:42, 4.6M (Nov 15th) - The guys buy a bunch of sex toys and use them to make some bacon, eggs and pancakes. Towards the end, someone spots Mark being fed while wearing a gag.

3. Purging Our Sins with a Neti Pot, 11:18, 4.8M (Nov 16th) - They clear their noses with Neti Pots, essentially flooding it and triggering a drowning sensation. Towards the end, the spiral screen appears where Mark and Ethan thank the audience for their initial reaction to the channel, which lead to the intro video becoming #1 on trending. They announce that if the channel reaches 1 million subscribers within a week, a viewer who helped spread the word will be hand delivered the button. Otherwise, Mark will have his nipples pierced.

4. Hot Dog'd To Death, 11:18, 3.3M (Nov 17th) - They attempt to eat 60 hot dogs in 10 minutes. Ethan struggles to work out how long 360 seconds is. The are certain Chica could beat Joey Chestnut's record of 71 any day.

5. Making Our Own Sensory Deprivation Tank, 13:44, 2.7M (Nov 18th) - They filled a pool with salts, blindfold themselves and put headphones on. To mess around, they pretend to try drown each other.

6. The Good Kind of Cupping, 11:59, 2.7M (Nov 19th) - They attempt cup stacking. Mark is better at it than Ethan. The two of them end up trying to walk on all fours while wearing the cups like some sort of cryptid. This is also where they announce the winner of the 1M play button (Kingkasuma 2.0). The next challenge is also announced, get it to 2M subs within a week so a viewer has the chance to meet Mark and Ethan while appearing in a video or Ethan will destroy the Barrel with a bat.

7. The Bad Kind of Cupping, 13:36, 8.8M (Nov 20th) - Mark and Ethan place suction cups on each other. At one point, Ethan is unable to detach a cup and gets very stressed about it.

8. The Worst Kind of Cupping, 10:17, 3.1M (Nov 21st) - They react to Two Girls, One Cup before trying to see if they can find out where the girls are now. This is Mark’s first time watching it and he does not have a good time.

9. Ethan Will Be Kicked in the Balls, 7:30, 4.2M (Nov 22nd) - They plan to use those inflatable balls that you can run around in. Ethan struggles to inflate his so he goes to a shop to ask they can help him with a pump. The staff are nice and chuck it to him via a window. He reaches his car, only to realise he can't fit it in without deflating it a little. Ethan does indeed get kicked in the balls at the end.

10. Doing Each Other's Makeup in the Dark, 12:08, 2.2M (Nov 23rd) - Mark and Ethan blindly apply makeup to one another. There is a risk of blackface when Mark gets into the bronzer but Amy is able to warn him to be careful. Ethan uses blush for its intended purpose and as lipstick. When they look at themselves in a mirror, he compares himself to the little girl wearing makeup while in a carseat. You can tell Amy is the one editing due to her written comments.

11. Baby Hands Operation, 8:29, 2.7M (Nov 24th) - Mark and Ethan assemble and then play Operation while wearing baby hands. When Calamity Pete's buzzing annoys them, they begin waterboarding him and are only able to remove the foreign object after hitting him hard enough to accidentally project the piece. This is where the 'Oh My Fucking God' meme originates.

12. Mark and Ethan Summon a Ghost, 18:02, 4M (Nov 25th) - This is framed as a kind of found footage documentary. While at Ethan’s home, they form a pentagram out of candles before playing Bloody Mary and Charlie Charlie. It ends with them getting attacked by a ghost.

13. 2 Truths and 1 Lie -- Waxing Edition, 16:49, 4.5M (Nov 26th) - They play 2 truths and a lie where getting it wrong means a body part gets waxed. The body part is determined by a spinning randomiser wheel. Korea is mentioned during both times the spinner lands on pubic hair.

14. Poopsie Sparkly Critters (a slime surprise...), 12:24, 4.3M (Nov 27th) - Mark and Ethan buy Poopsie Sparkly Critters, a toy that will eject slime from either their butt (poop) or mouth (spit). They play around with the toys, adding glitter to the slime as instructed. This is the first time ‘Martha Maywho’ (Martha May Whovier from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas) is mentioned.

15. Play-Doh Thanksgiving, 10:35, 2.2M (Nov 28th) - They create a thanksgiving meal with only Play-Doh. A tray full of ‘food’ that are the appropriate colours is created, including a tiny live turkey made by Ethan. A mega turkey is also made using a conglomerate of the remaining Play-Doh. Mark and Ethan then sample their creation.

16. Helium Therapy, 14:55, 3.3M (Nov 29th) - The two of them inhale helium then discuss various topics, including how they’d kill each other, childhood misadventures and their romantic pursuits involving an abundance of Abigails (plus a Sarah).

17. Drawing Memes from Memory, 10:53, 2.6M (Nov 30th) - With drawing pads and scented coloured markers, Mark and Ethan attempt to draw old memes with Amy telling them their prompts.The ‘This is fine’ dog, dat boi, Rebecca Black, dancing baby, the Numa Numa guy, dikbutt, condescending Willy Wonka and trollface all make an appearence. They spend nearly as much time sniffing the markers as they do drawing.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #310

“i get pretty just to fuck my face up.”

Do you have a clock in your room? No. What book, movie, TV show, or video game have you been wanting to start up? I *want* to read The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but I care more about reading Wings of Fire, so I probably realistically won't for a long time. I don't read enough for that; Sutherland will surely keep pumping out books in the series so I'll never catch up, haha. As for a movie, I've been interested in seeing Jacob's Ladder for a very long time; it served as a very large influence on the Silent Hill series, and boy, anyone who brings up video games in front of me knows SH is my SHIT. I also just know I'm bound to like it with how essentially legendary it is in the psychological horror genre, which is my favorite. Onto TV show, I'm not certain. Shows don't really interest me. I would like to keep watching A:TLA w/ Sara, but "start up" implies beginning something new, so. Lastly, video games. There are a LOT of games I want to play, but yeah, I have no operational gaming console above a PS2. I'm dyinnnngggggg to play a ton of PS4 remasters (namely the original Spyro the Dragon trilogy and SoTC), but as for a fresh game I've never experienced, Ico, which is from the same producers of Shadow of the Colossus. It's an old game, and Mom's bought it off of Ebay for me twice, but neither disc worked - they froze only minutes into the game. It's hella expensive in new condition though because of its age... so who knows when I'll actually get to play it. Do you put anything else on your grilled cheese sandwiches? Just butter. Have you ever read a book in a different language? I've read some simple fairy tales as well as the play Faust in German courses. Do you want to go to the Harry Potter theme park at Universal? I have no connection with the franchise, but I mean, I'd go if you're paying, haha. If you had a secret room in your house, how would you decorate it? I'm trying to think what kind of room I'd keep a secret... Ha, actually, IF my love of tarantulas expands so largely to having dozens (which I doubt, but I acknowledge the possibility once I get my own place), a room kept on the down low to others just for them would be pretty cool. Imagine someone not knowing they're sharing a house with like, a hundred Ts, haha. As for actual decor, I'm unsure. I'd definitely keep it generally dark for them as nocturnal creatures, maybe with some Halloween decorations, like lots of fake webbing and neon green or orange lights. Man... that sounds dope. What did you get your dad for his last birthday? I couldn't buy him anything, nor did I actually make anything since I didn't know what to create. I just told him happy birthday, of course. Do any of your relatives live in another country? No. Are you claustrophobic? In some spaces, yes. Ever seen Blair Witch? Without spoilers, you know "that part" near the end? Yeah, if you've seen it, you know. That would be a fucking NIGHTMARE for me. Even watching it made me squirm. When grocery shopping, do you usually buy brand names or store brand? With most items anyway, we just get the store brand bc we cheap. Around what time do you usually eat dinner? Generally between 5:30-6:30 nowadays. Do you have any clothing that you get dry cleaned? No. Do you like foods with coconut in it? Eugh, not a coconut fan. I don't hate it as much as I used to, but I still don't like it. Have you ever researched your family history? No, but some past relative researched our family tree. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I hate carrots. Did you play with Legos as a kid? Nah, I was more into Lincoln Logs. Which bothers you more… spelling mistakes or bad grammar? It really depends on the severity and simplicity of the spelling or grammar rule. Grammatical misuse of "there/their/they're" stand out very strongly to me, though. Have you ever bought anything off of eBay? Yeah, a good number of things. Is anybody in your family schizophrenic? If so, what is their life like? I have a scizophrenic half-sister that I've never met, so I couldn't tell you. How organized is your mind? How do you know it's organized/disorganized? My mind is running Windows '98 with multiple windows and even more tabs open, all of them not responding. :^) Why do you follow the religion that you do? I don't follow one. My personal religious journey was a train wreck liberating to jump off of. Do you feel superior to others because you're that religion? I don't care if you're atheist, Christian, Buddhist, Islamic, whatever - you are by no means superior to another person in any way just because you believe different things happen once you die. If you do, it's time for some introspection. Are you a blind believer, or do you frequently challenge your own beliefs? Seeing as I went from Catholic to Christian to briefly Neo-Pagan-ish to what I am now, just believing there's some higher power/knowledge and some form of sentience after death, I obviously challenge them. What's the greatest thing about science? Life itself. This universe, this planet, your state of just knowing is a product of science, and that's pretty damn beautiful. Are you emotional or very stolid? I know I'm too emotional. I'm trying to get better about it. Do your siblings look like you? To a degree, but not NEARLY as much as they look like each other. Ashley and Nicole have been mistaken multiple times in their lives and even asked if they're twins. How many states have you lived in? Just this shitty one. How many states have you traveled through/vacationed in? Traveled through, a whole lot. Up and down the east coast. I've stayed in New York, Florida, Ohio, Illinois, South Carolina briefly, and I think possibly Michigan as a baby. Which state was/is your favorite? I don't know. Not NC, haha. You have two weeks alone in any place in the world; where would you go? Alone? Um... I dunno. I'd get lonely through two weeks in absolute isolation. How old were you when you first moved out of your parents' home? I want to say I was 18 when I briefly "moved in" with Jason and our roommates. Did you ever have to move back in? Yeah; the apartment didn't last very long. None of us were ready. How old were you when you thought you were "in love" for the first time? I was in love at 16. I'd fight God literally for eternity to prove that fact. How many exterior doors are in your home? Two, or maybe three, depending on your outlook. We have like this deck in the back with a roof and mesh separating you from the outside, and then you properly go into the yard from the door beyond that. How many cars have you owned? I myself, none. How many email accounts do you have? Ummmm my very first one I misspelled, so I didn't use it long before making a new one with the correct spelling, then later I had no choice but to make a Gmail to use YouTube, and I know I've had at least one email specifically for school. I'm probably forgetting some other oldies I used for small things. What was the last movie you watched alone? The Shining. What (if any) one television program do you watch religiously every day/week? None. What (if any) is your favorite sport? Dance. Scoff at that shit and then try one dance session and tell me it's not one. What is your favorite musical? None. Have you ever seen a live opera production? No. Dressing up for an evening out: Pants or skirt? Pants. I don't show my legs. What do you currently hear right now? I'm listening to Dance With the Dead's "The Man Who Made a Monster." I LOVE the aesthetic of synthwave and rock mixed together, but the only problem I have with this song is that it's very repetitive. Still stuck in my head though, haha. What type of survey do you refuse to take? I'm not into bolding surveys, specifically. Do you like to run? bitch fuck no Do you think you could run the mile in 10 minutes? Zero chance. What was the longest movie you watched? Hm, I don't remember... It's faintly there in my head, I just can't identify it... Have you ever been to a job interview? Well yeah. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. Now that I'm doing the partial hospitalization program again, he calls once a week. When was the last time you talked to your last ex boyfriend? Uhhh I think around the start of this month? Missed him and felt like chatting for a bit. Is your dog mixed or full? I don't have a dog, buuuut... we're getting one soon! I'm quite sure she's a mutt. What was the last thing you and your mother did together? Rode to the pharmacy to pick up my meds. Do you take good pictures? I like to think so. What is your display picture on myspace/facebook right now? The most recent selfie I took and liked. I'm finally comfortable using makeupless photos as a display picture. :') Not that I like my body by any means, I just don't care enough to feel like I HAVE to wear makeup to be even remotely pretty in the face. As for everywhere else... ahahaha. What is going on outside right now? It's raining. Like it has been for what feels like literally weeks - and it might actually have been. There's been one or two sunny days in a huge streak of just nothing but rain. It's so gross outside by now; we've been under a flood warning for days on end. Who was the last person you kissed? My best friend, but we were dating then. What color looks the best on you? Black. Have you ever bought the wrong size because you were too lazy to check it? Oh, absolutely. I LOATHE trying on clothes. You have to essentially drag me to go do it. I don't have a good reason other than I don't want to, lol. What was the last thing you bought over 5 dollars? I put down the deposit on my tattoo. c: Do you have any mag subscriptions? No. What is something you're not scared of but a lot of people are? Snakes are probably the highest on the list. I adore snakes, all snakes. Would you ever have a threesome? No; I'm strictly monogamous and to me would be cheating even if your partner was in on it. Are you an U.S. citizen? Yep. Do you have any step siblings? I have a stepbrother, yeah, but I don't see him as my brother, honestly. He's a very quiet and reclusive guy I've had almost no conversations with, and they've only ever been short. Do they annoy you? Nah, he's fine. How many times a day do you talk to your mom on the phone? Well, we live together... What did you wear yesterday? The same pjs I'm in now. I'm changing when I take a shower later. The tank top is a Day of the Dead-esque skull pattern, while the pants are mostly navy with skulls and candy can crossbones that say "nice until proven naughty" arching over and beneath them. They were a Christmas gift from my sis and are really soft and comfortable. Really don't care that it's now out of season, I wear them anyway. I do not match colors AT ALL, but again, I don't care. What color straightener do you have? We don't have one; neither Mom or I use one. Do you listen to music really loud or really low? Turn that shit up LOUD. I'll be nearly deaf one day, but... worth it? lol Do you live with anybody other than your siblings and your parents? No. Both my sisters have moved out. I'm still here because I'm just not emotionally or financially equipped to live on my own yet. Who was your last crush? I still like my best friend, but agree with her that right now isn't the time for anything. How many tattoos do you have? Currently only six. :( What is your favorite thing to do? Car rides with Mom while I ride passenger, controlling the music nice and loud with my iPod. It's odd, considering I'm very afraid of being on the road, but it's just such a freeing, wild feeling to blare music and just go, letting your mind wander. How many pets do you own? I only have a cat and a snake right now, but we're getting a dog hopefully very soon, preferably today actually when Mom has to go to the appropriate city for her normal check-up to keep her cancer at bay. Her name is Vanna and sounds so perfect for us. Mom can barely wait. Are you close with your parents? Yes, very, Mom especially. Where do you shop the most for your clothes? Hot Topic or Wal-Mart. I'd really like more stuff from Rebel's Market; they have such a wide range of stuff that just scream my aesthetic. I got my purse from there, and it's fantastic quality and so cool-looking. Have you ever read a whole series of books? Well, one trilogy that I remember: Shiloh. I adored those books and the movies. I got very, very deep into Warriors by Erin Hunter, but then my interest in reading waned, and I'm immensely behind. I don't think I'll pick it up again, but I've thought briefly about it. When you tell someone you love them do you mean it? Yes. Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I walked. Do you ever eat anything everybody else thinks is gross? Hm, perhaps. I'd have to think for a while. What did you do for your last birthday? I just ate pizza at home with my one sister that was free that day, Mom, and a family friend, as well as opened presents. What do you plan on doing for your 18th birthday? I don't recall, but I think that may have been when I was in the psych hospital. Or was that my 21st? I don't remember. Do you have to type with good grammer? Yes. I type pretty much exactly how I talk. What is your favorite quote? It's hard to pick one singular favorite. Are you allowed to cuss in front of your parents? Dad could care less, but I try to limit myself with Mom, especially with "fuck." She's not a fan, nor does she like if I just swear too much in front of her. Like she won't yell at me or anything, she just makes it clear she wants me to stop. How long was your last phone conversation? Just a couple minutes. I didn't get the Zoom link to group therapy one day and let the place know. Turns out their email was fucking up. Which one of your friends annoy you? The family friend I mentioned a few questions above has the ability to be incredibly aggravating. I love her, but she has zero issue with inserting herself into everything (and sometimes we just don't want to see her), and she voices incredibly rude opinions literally no one asks for a whoooole lot. She's got a strong tendency to try to take control over every situation. Her being our landlord now makes it harder to speak up, and besides, no one wants to hurt her feelings. Don't be mistaken though, she truly is an incredible person with a heart more caring than probably any person I know. Have you ever lost a close friend to death? No, thank fuck. I mean, I think. I do believe one of my childhood online friends committed suicide because of sexual abuse from her own fucking brother, but I guess I'll never know. She was talking to me one night horribly depressed and scared and then just vanished. Bless her, I loved her. Do you know someone who suffers from addiction? Yes. Do you have a lot of pictures in your room? Tons of posters and artwork, anyway. I currently don't have any photographs, but I got this shadowbox thing for my bday to decorate with pictures of Teddy so I can use it in my "tribute shrine" or whatever for him, and I'd also like to frame the picture of Sara's and my first hug and maybe put it on my bedside table. Do you have Facebook? Yeah, I do. Have you ever found a dog/cat on the side of the road? I myself, no, but a friend's mom did find two poor kittens thrown aside in a fucking plastic bag... Some people are abominable. Knowing how much my family loved cats, she reached out to us, and we took them in and named them Aphrodite and... I can't remember the other's name. She disappeared kinda early. Aphrodite wound up being one of my most beloved cats and was even the mother of a kitten that same family adopted. Delilah is still alive, doing wonderfully, and incredibly loved. <3 Aphrodite, meanwhile, as well as all our other cats at the time, were taken by animal control because our neighbors were tired of them wandering, even though they were too fucking cowardly to confront us first. I've said in many surveys that I am very much against outdoor cats, but I wasn't then because I was uninformed and really didn't understand. I wailed and sobbed and just pure shrieked like a banshee outside when we came home to learn they were taken. I have no clue how any are now, and that's the worst part. Do you go bowling in your town? We are in the middle of a pandemic, lol. Even beforehand though, I rarely went. Last time I did was on a date with Girt. We had fun. Do you have a drive-in theater? No sir. What brand is your favorite shoe? Converse. Is your best friend's mom like your own? They're quite similar, yes. Both are very sweet and caring for others. Do you have anxiety or depression? Try both. What is your favorite fast food restaurant? Sonic. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? Nah. Have you and your friends ever made up a word? Likely as kids. Do you have any embarrassing baby pictures of yourself? Not that I know of. What is the worst smell in the world? Anyone remember that survey I took mentioning my dog's old tumor? Yeah, that after he spent overnight in a diaper and inevitably peed himself in his old age. And he had a UTI. You probably can't even imagine how fucking vomit-inducing that smell was. Do you dye your hair a lot? No. :/ I really wish. I have so many colors I wanna try. Do you have anybody in your family who rides dirtbikes/fourwheelers? Not really? No one in my family owns one. My younger sister would totally go if you asked her and had one for her to use, though. She's done it plenty before. Have you ever rode a dirtbike/fourwheeler? Yeah, a fourwheeler, and it's really fun! Tell me how you got one of your scars? Hmmm, let's think of a unique one. Ah, my shins, left one especially. When I shave my legs, they get unbelievably itchy, even if I use lotion, and I would scratch my skin absolutely raw so often that I have permanent scars. It's partially why I barely shave my legs anymore. Have you ever had a friend who cut themselves? I know many, sadly. I don't know of any that still do, thankfully. I promise, it never helps. If you ever have the urge, I can't suggest enough running where you want to self-harm under cold water or slap the location (like your wrist) with a rubber band. The latter is especially helpful. It's a similar burning sensation and doesn't leave marks. It would help me refrain sometimes. What is your favorite thing to do in the summer? Swim in a nice, warm pool. Otherwise, become a hermit and wait for the outdoors to not be prepared to melt the flesh off my bones. x_x Do you go tanning or do you lay out? Neither, ugh. As you can guess from above, I hate the sensation of heat on me. What is your favorite skin lotion? I just really like cocoa butter. Smells really good and is perfectly moisturizing. Do you use a lot of hair products? The only hair product I use is shampoo, haha. Do you have a cousin you dislike? No. Well, one is incredibly brainwashed and misled by her psychopath of a father, but I love her nonetheless. We talk now and again because family is important to her. Have you ever heard Theory of a Deadman? Yeah, they're good. What is your comfort food? Absolutely ice cream. Who is your celebrity crush? Mark Fischbach/Markiplier is a perfect human being with the looks of a god and heart of a saint and you cannot convince me otherwise. What’s the song you most wish you had written? "Imagine" by John Lennon is a high contendant, for sure. Definitely something I'd write. Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I think so at one point or another. Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? Ha, for sure. Have you ever been interrupted during sex? A bitch knows how to act asleep if she hears a door so much as barely squeak, I'll tell you that much lmaooo. Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? No. Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? No. Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? I've barely actually cooked anything in order TO fuck up. Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I can't say with certainty, but I think Jason's mom had her doubts about me at first because she commented on the ripped jeans I wore when I went to his house for the first time. She came to love me like her own though, and I love(d) her. I was actually just thinking about her and how she's doing the other day. What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Always? Perhaps sour candy, like Sour Punch Straws in specific. Ever held a newborn animal? Many kittens, yes. Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I do, but just for the annual appeal of it. I don't actually believe it will have any effect on what I wished, it's just... normal, ig. What is the last thing you searched for online? Medical coding classes. Having trouble finding any free ones that are actually legit... Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when it's hot in your room? It's borderline impossible. Do you dunk your cookies in milk? Sometimes, and almost always with Oreos. Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Ha, speaking of medical coding... No, not really. It's unnerving to hear "you have _____," but I understand it can be something so, so minor. Of course, it could be the exact opposite, but. I also actually find it quite interesting to learn the Latin roots of the terms. Are you afraid of failure? Beyond measure. Have you been called a bad influence? Yes, to my former friend's son. Not that that witch of a woman was a great person. I'd love to know how an infant can be negatively affected by receiving nothing but love from his "aunt," also having no concept of understanding about me being unemployed and not very "adult-ish" in general, which I'm sure is what she meant. Normally judgment hits me deep, but that shit I just rolled my eyes at.

[staticscreenwriting]

All you have to be is here - Part 1 - Billy Hargrove

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who’s smile is phenomenal and who is way too nice to him. 

I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that. 

Part 1 of ?

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please. Also It’s 2:30 am here so I’ll make a header image later after I’ve slept a little. K thanks.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don't have to hide, don't have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever's just for now We're on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

There’s a thing about waiting rooms, Billy thinks, where they try to make them look alive by putting everything up on the walls they can find. All the bullshit abstract paintings and clocks in weird shapes and bright color. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s a waiting room though, and people here aren’t happy. 

The walls are the offest white Billy has ever seen and the sad thing is he’s fairly sure they deliberately chose this color. He can hear the ticking of the clock shaped like a daisy flower, hammering through the silence. 

Everything here seems too much. The walls are too off-white. The clock is too loud. The paintings too bright. There’s people on the brochures and flyers that are so neatly placed on the table in the middle of the room. Those people stare at him with their shiny colgate smiles that are just a tiny bit too wide to be reassuring and end up looking more creepy than anything.

He really has to give it to them, they tried it here. Tried to make the place feel less sterile and more homely and warm. The seats in the waiting room are cushioned and comfortable and there’s music playing faintly in the background.

And yet this is still a waiting room and no one wants to be here.

A cough sounds from his right, followed by another one. It’s the 12th cough in the matter of 5 minutes. He’s counted. The man next to him looks about Neil’s age and he’s built like a tank. And he looks positively miserable. 

In the corner of the room sits a girl who seems to be a little older than Billy. She has bright red hair pulled up in a crazy bun and she’s nervously fumbling around with a hair tie. Twirling it around a finger then twirling it back. Tangle, untangle, tangle, untangle. 

“ Billy ? “ 

He looks up at the voice and his heart sinks all the way down to his stomach. I am not sick. I am not sick. I am not sick and I don’t need to be here.

But the facts are that he is here, he has to be. And waiting for him in the doorway of the waiting room is a doctor. A therapist. Dr. Ryland Kapelsky.

Who the fuck calls their kid Ryland ? 

He’s got a thick bushy mustache and glasses that look two sizes too big for his tiny head. Everything about him seems far too comical. This has to be a caricature come to life, straight off the pages of a sunday newspaper.

This man, Billy is painfully aware, knows more about him than he wants him to know. He’s most definitely read his file. He surely knows this therapy session is court ordered.

And still, caricature man holds no judgement in his eyes. 

“ Billy ? “ he asks again, now looking straight at Billy as if his deep brown eyes might look right into Billy’s soul, “ that’s you, right ? “ .

Billy nods and gets up “ yeah that’s me “.

Dr. Kapelsky has a firm handshake and Billy think that this guy is not one to bullshit. Which is quite tragic because bullshitting is something Billy absolutely excels in. 

“ Nice to meet you, if you’d please follow me to my office “.

His voice is stern but not mean or angry. He seems professional enough which is a bit surprising compared to his comical look.

As they move down the hallway, more off-white walls left and right, Billy glances at the various plaques and certificates proudly displayed.

He wonders if there’s one for winning the caricature look-alike contest. Suppressing a chuckle he follows the man into a spacious office and sits down in yet another cushioned chair by a big oakwood desk. 

Dr. Kapelsky closes the door before joining Billy by the desk. He sizes him up, tries to figure him out by just initial impression. Billy can tell. He’s probably trying to come up with a way to approach the situation, to get him to open up and spill all his deep and dark secrets and emotions. 

Billy can see it all happening and yet all he can concentrate on, is the taxidermy racoon on the shelf in the corner of the room. Why the fuck did this comic-figure-looking guy have a taxidermy racoon in his office ? 

“ So, Billy. Let us start with introductions. I am Dr. Ryland Kapelsky but you can call me Dr. K. It’s what most of my younger patients do.” 

Billy hates this, not the guy but the attitude. He’s not going to win him over by pretending to be cool and down with the kids. He’s not a kid. 

He’s not a patient either. Because he is not sick. 

“ a’right. “ 

“ And you are ? “ 

“ Billy Hargrove, you know this. You’ve read the file. “ 

“ I did, indeed. “ 

“ So you know this is court ordered. I’m not here because I want to be or need this is any way. I have to be here or I’m going to juvie. That’s the only reason. Sorry to disappoint but we’re not gonna end up making daisy chains and talking about our feelings. “ 

“ I understand that you don’t want to be here “ Dr. K. says and slides the too-big glasses down his nose “, no one really does. I need you to understand though, that this is a chance for you more so than a punishment. “ 

That’s easy for him to say, Billy thinks, he’s the one getting a big ass paycheck.

“ I see you’ve also been assigned 60 days of community service. Is that correct ? “ 

“ Yes, sir. “ 

“ I was asked to suggest an institution I find suitable for you to work those days. One that I think will benefit you. “ 

“ Wait wait wait. What ? I thought I was gonna pick up trash at the side of the highway “.

“ Billy, “ Dr. K says and does that thing adults do where they look at you and sigh and pretend to care “ this is supposed to help you. It’s a chance. Picking up trash is not gonna do anything now, is it ? I want you to take something from this. “ 

Oh he has taken something from it. Don’t punch rich kids whose parents have the funds to get a good lawyer and press charges. No matter how deserving those rich kids are of a fist in their face.

“ Alright then, what’s the verdict, doc ? Where you gonna send me off to ? “ 

“ Well. There’s a place in Huckley, it’s a tiny town about a 30 minute drive from Hawkins. It’s called the Huckley home from troubled children and youth. There’s kids and teenagers from troubled homes who struggle in life. They’re all a bit younger than you. Most of them come from abusive homes. “ 

“ What are you saying, sir ? I’m not a troubled youth. I don’t need to attend some looney institute, bad enough I have to sit through this shit here.“ 

He doesn’t like this man insinuating stuff about Billy’s home life. He doesn’t know shit. No matter how many plaques and trophies and certificates. This man doesn’t know the first thing about Billy’s family. His home. 

“ Oh no you’re supposed to work there. Help out in activities. Attend the group session and listen to the kids. Also, and I mean no offence, Billy. I only judge by what I am familiar with. By what I’ve learned over the years. I see your father was asked to accompany you to today’s appointment. He’s not here. “ 

“ I’m almost 18 my dad doesn’t need to be here. “ 

Truth is, Neil wouldn’t have come no matter what age Billy is. 8 or 18 it doesn’t make a difference. Neil laughed at him when the letter came. Then gave him a black eye to go with. His taunting words are still ringing through Billy’s ears. 

“ Yes but we usually like the parents to be there. To asses the situation and to — “ 

“ Well he’s not here so can we drop it ? “ 

“ Sure. “ 

Billy can see him scribbling something into his notebook. Probably another assumption. It’s ridiculous, really. The fact that he has to sit here and let a complete stranger make up a story of what he thinks is going on in Billy’s life.

“ Look doc, I don’t need you to figure me out or anything like that. It’s bullshit anyway. All I need is for you to sign my notes every session for the next 8 weeks so the court knows I’ve been here and that’s about it, okay ? You get paid either way so it shouldn’t matter. “ 

“ This is my job, Billy. It always matters.”

“ Well this time it don’t. Now tell me about that troubled youth center thing so I can get that over and done with.” 

- XXX -

The Huckley home from troubled children and youth stands at the end of a cul-de-sac with a little lake and a whole god damn forest behind it. There’s two other houses down the street but they’re all about 10 minute walk away from the big red brick building.

He takes one last puff from his cigarette before stomping it out on the floor and walking up the gravel driveway towards the big oak door.

There’s gold ornaments on the door handles and up and down the sides. He wonders if this is one of those fancy looney bins that rich parents send their kids to when they don’t wanna deal with them or can’t bother to bring them on their trip to Aspen.

The inside looks nothing like Billy has expected it to look. There’s wide big walkways and windows that let the sunlight stream through the halls. Every wall is plastered with drawings and macaroni picture frames and certificates that all hold little shiny star stickers. 

It reminds him a little of his elementary school back home in California. His mom used to be a teacher there and even before he was old enough to visit the school himself, sometimes she took him with her to sit by her desk while she taught the kids a new letter or help her put the shiny stars onto an especially well done assignment. 

But his mom is gone now and sticker stars don’t mean shit in the real world. He wonders if they ever really did. If so, he’d like to know when they stopped mattering.

“ Can I help you ? “ a voice speaks up from his right. There’s a girl there and she doesn’t seem to be much older than him. She’s wearing a white shirt that proudly displays the letters HHTCY. Ah great, uniforms. 

She’s cute though, he has to admit that much.

“ Hi. I’m Billy. Billy Hargrove. I’m here for — uh community service “.

“ Oh! Oh yeah just let me — let me see if I can find someone to … “ she doesn’t finish the sentence, just hurries back towards the way she’s just come from.

Billy uses this time to look around the halls a little more. The certificates all seem to have been rewarded for different things. Exceptional Storyteller. Hide & Seek champion. Queen of hopscotch.

He wonders what certificate he’d get. Biggest disappointment ? Lousiest life ? Best hair ? Probably all of them. 

“ Sooo, seems like Janet was supposed to show you around but she’s had a family emergency so she’s not here aaand that means I’ll show you around since literally anyone else is currently busy. “ the girl appears again, her mouth spitting out words a mile a minute. 

“ I’m (Y/N) “ .

“ Billy. “ 

“ Hi, welcome to —” 

“ Look sweetheart, I don’t need to whole spiel, okay ? I’m here on court order so just tell me where to go and what to do and let’s get this over with. “ 

She looks defeated for a moment which makes Billy feel a little bad about his harsh tone but really, the quicker he’s started the quicker he gets to leave. Once this is over he’s not gonna see this girl ever again, so who cares ? 

“ Oh, alright. Well here’s a schedule that Janet made and a floorplan. I need to show you around before you get to actually do anything but I am scheduled to sit in on a group talk so I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me. Now look, I get you don’t want to be here. Honestly I don’t give a shit about that. But these people, these kids, they are here because we care and because they need someone to care. Don’t be a dick in there. Don’t ruin this for them. If you do, I’m gonna kick your ass into the next dimension. Is that clear ? “ 

Billy is stunned. He doesn’t know who this girl is but it’s not the same one that he’s interacted with just minutes before. This one isn’t timid or sweet. She’s spunky and feisty and interesting and — kinda hot.

“ Whatever you say, ma’am” 

“ Yeah, whatever I say. Now let’s go !” 

Damn. What the hell has he gotten himself into here.

- XXX -

The room that the group talk is held in is big and airy with light colored walls and even more paintings. It’s not at all as small and cramped and sad as he had imagined it. 

There’s a bunch of people here, about 6 or 7 kids who range from what Billy assumes can’t be much older than 6, to people who look to be around his age. Then there’s (Y/N) and a woman that had introduced herself to Billy as Dr. White, though all the kids seem to refer to her by her first name, Lydia. 

Some of the kids are smiling, radiating with energy and joy while others hardly speak up and mostly keep their eyes focused on the floor. Though even those kids are always attentive, Billy notices. Always listening. Still a valid and active part of this conversation even when they don’t even speak a single word.

This whole talk is so different from what he expected it to be. There’s no pressure. No one is forced to do an emotional strip and lay bare all of their darkest secrets and innermost feelings. it’s mostly the kids talking about their day. The good and the bad. Things that scared them and things that gave them hope. Lydia seems genuinely interested in what they have to say too. (Y/N), Billy notices as his eyes keep drifting towards her, hold a warm smile on her face the entire time. And it’s not fake or overdone. It seems so genuine, so honest. He wonders if anyone has ever smiled at him like this.

“ Abby, you haven’t said anything yet. How was your day ? “ Lydia asks, looking at the girl across from her in the circle of chairs. Abby must be around 7 or 8 years old. She’s small and has a big mop of blond hair on her head. Her sweater seems a few sizes too big, she’s practically drowning in it. Billy isn’t sure he really wants to know her story. If she’s here, he’s sure it’s not a happy one.

“ It was — alright. Grandma and Grandpa came to visit. They took me to get ice cream, mom wasn’t here though. Not this time. They said next time she’d come. Maybe I get to see her for my birthday. “ she says the words with a sprinkle of hope, one Billy knows too well. A hope he has tried to hold onto for so many times in his own life. One that’s but a mere illusion. It’s a trick. It’s not real.

He hopes this little girl never has to find out about that. He hopes, sincerely hopes, that she gets to keep this hope in her heart for as long as humanly possible. Because losing it comes with pain and suffering and heartbreak. And this little girl doesn't deserve that. 

“ So how would you rate your day from 1 to 10 ? “ Lydia asks. 

“ Like a 7 maybe ? “ 

“ Are you asking me ? “ Lydia smiles at Abby.

“ A solid 7 “.

“ That’s good then. “ 

They’ve done this with all the kids that had wanted to share something, ask them to rate their day. Billy’s days are usually 4s sometimes when it’s a real good day their climb up to become a 6. Then there’s days, those when Neil is home, that are no better than a 2. Those ones come with at least a bruised cheek or a bloody nose and at worst with a broken rib. 

“ So, I guess that’s it for today. Thank you guys for sharing your stories with us. Those of you to stay, please go get some lunch. Those that go home, I’ll see you next monday and I hope your week becomes a solid 10. “ 

Something in the way Lydia speaks, makes Billy feel a little more at easy. She has a softness to her words, like they’re made of cotton. His mom used to talk like that to her students. All gentle and kind and wonderful. 

“ Hey you “ a hand waves up and down in front of Billy’s face “ let’s grab lunch then let me show you around. “ 

It takes a moment for Billy’s eyes to fully focus on the person in front of him, only to be met with (Y/N) who’s wearing a huge scowl on her face. 

“ Huh ? “ 

“ I said let’s go eat. Oh and uh — thanks for not fucking this up. “ 

He doesn’t think behaving like a decent human being deserves any kind of thanks, he appreciates it anyway.

- XXX -

“ … and this is my office. Well technically it’s Janet’s office but she mostly does our paperwork and accounting and so she does that from home most of the time aaaand that means I get to use the office while she’s not here. Even though I’m only volunteering and I’m not supposed to have an office actually but uh —  “ 

“ You talk a lot, don’t you ? “ Billy asks as a smirk pulls up the corner of his lip. 

“ I’ve heard people say that, yeah. You on the other hand talk very little “ (Y/N) says before sitting down on the big oak desk. 

“ Yeah well I don’t got nothing to say to you, babe. “ 

“ Ah man, you gotta stop with those pet names. “ 

“ Huh, and why’s that ? Does it make you nervous ? “ there it is, the smooth suave Hargrove charm that his mother always said was gonna cause her sleepless night and gray hair. He always scoffed at that, now he wishes he could see her with gray hair. Older and — alive. 

“ Pretty much everything makes me nervous really but no, it’s just unprofessional. “ 

“ You’re a volunteer and I am here on court’s order. We’re hardly professionals. “ 

He can see a small smile threatening to cross her face, it’s so subtle he almost misses it. Almost. 

“ What’s the deal with Abby ? “

“ huh ? “

“ The little girl. “ 

Something about this girl reminded Billy so much of himself when he was younger. Her whole demeanor was so familiar like he was looking into some kind of distorted mirror that allowed him to look into the past. He just had to know what her story was, even if it meant to feel the all too familiar pain. 

“ I can’t tell you any specifics but well, her mom has — issues and her dad is not in the picture. She used to stay with her grandparents but they are getting older and feel like they can’t provide her with all the things she needs at this moment. So she stays here with us. “ 

“ Do all the kids ? “ 

“ Nah. Some of them stay here permanently. Some temporary. Some just come around certain days of the week. It really depends on their individual situation. We provide them with what they need even if it’s just a place to stay and some open ears. “ 

Billy wonders if things would’ve turned out different for him had he had someone who cared. Who was willing to listen. To his sadness and his anger and all the pent or emotions he had to keep inside for the longest fucking time.

“ Well good for them. “ 

“ Yeah. I hope it makes a difference. “ 

Billy smiles at her. He hopes it seems genuine, because it is.

“ Oh I’m sure it does. “ 

- XXX -

Billy is exhausted once he arrives home. (Y/N) took him around the entire building doing several different chores and tasks to make sure he got acquaintanced with everything that needed to be done. From tidying up the community lounge rooms to helping prepare food to paperwork. She made sure he saw and did it all at least once. And my god, this girl was thorough.

As he steps through the door, he can hear the scrapping of cutlery against the porcelain plates. They’re all sitting around the kitchen table like a perfect little family. Neil, Susan and Max. A sight for sore eyes, if he’s ever seen one. There’s no room for Billy on this table. There never really was.

Neil’s eye shoot up as his son enters the kitchen, a snarl makes its way onto his lips and the gross mustache twitches disgustingly. God, Billy can’t even put into words how much he detests his father.

“ Look who returned home. The prodigal son. My boy. Tell us Billy, how was community service ? Did you work real hard ? Did you make them proud ? “ 

The teasing is hardly hidden in his words. It’s ugly and taunting and Billy is sure those words are gonna ghost through his head for much much longer. If Neil could just shut up for once. Just once.

“ It was alright. Can I go to bed now ? “ 

“ Alright ? What kind of answer is that ? “ Neil snarls, taking another sip from his can of bud light. Susan and Max avert their eyes down towards their plates, nervously pushing their food across the tableware. 

“ What do you want me to say, dad ? That is was good? It wasn’t, it was fucking exhausting ! That I’m sorry ? Well I’m not. The dude had it coming. I did a shit thing and now I’m suffering the consequences, what the fuck else do you want me to do ? “ 

He knows, as those words leave his lips, that he’s fucked up. Before he can even register what happens, a loud smash echoes through the room before. Then Billy feels the smooth surface of the fridge pressed against his back and Neil holds him by the face in a grip so tight, Billy is sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow. 

“ Is that a way to talk to your father ? I give you everything you ungrateful little shit and this is how you thank me ? Grow up, Billy ! Start taking some god damn responsibility “ 

Smack. 

He’s used to it by now. It stings a little less each time. He hates that it does. He hates that he gets used to this. From his dad of all people. The one who should be sheltering him from bad is the one bringing it upon him.

“ Do you hear me ? “ 

“ Yes sir ! “ 

Another smack. This time he can feel his lip split open. He’s used to that one too.

“ Excuse me ? What was that ? A little louder please. “ 

“ Yes, Sir !” 

When Neil lets him go and sits back on the kitchen table, Billy carefully steps over the broken plate and hurries towards his room. The rage in his system says “slam the door” but he knows that would make things worse. So much worse. 

Though he can’t help himself but punch the wall. Once. Twice. Three times. He loses count at some point but gets pulled back into reality when he notices a red sheen covering his knuckles. 

As if a split lip wasn’t shitty enough he had to add bleeding knuckles and a bruised fist to it. Great. 

The rage feels all consuming. Like it’s taking over everything and swallowing him whole. He needs to get out. Needs to get away for a moment. Out of this house where misery lives and anger seems to inhabit every corner, every wall. If he doesn’t get out now he’ll explode.

So he opens the window, quiet as a mouse, like he’s done so many times before and rushes towards the camaro. If Neil notices he’s gone, that’s something he’ll have to deal with later. It doesn’t matter right now. All that matter now is getting away. As far away as possible.

- XXX -

There’s a perpetual red glow in this 24h convenience store. It comes from the neon signs in the window that advertise hot dogs and cream soda. Billy thinks it gives the place a realy creepy vibe. 

He fumbles around the freezer before taking out a popsicle package and holding it to his swollen knuckles. It’s soothing sure, but it’s uncomfortable holding that stupid box to his hand.

“ Have you never seen a movie before ? You gotta use frozen peas, man “ 

Recognizing the voice immediately, Billy turns to see (Y/N) stood next to him, a white grocery basket hanging from her arm as she holds out a packet of peas to him. 

“ They properly take the shape of your hand. Works way better, trust me ! “ 

“ Oh yeah “ Billy replies, taking the peas from her hand and holding it to his injured. Goddamn she’s right. “ You some kind of secret nurse or something ? “ 

“ Not really but that’s common sense. “ 

“ Not something I can pride myself with apparently. “ 

And when she laughs at that, it’s like for a second his knuckles don’t hurt and he forgets about the dried blood on his lips.

“ Man, you just got ordered community service for punching someone. Thought you’d have learned. “ 

“ You should see the other guy “ Billy jokes. But really, it’s not funny. Not even close.

“ Yeah ? Big guy ? “ 

“ Huge. Made of drywall “ 

“ Huh. Did you win at least ? “

“ Ya betcha, baby. I always win “ and if only that was the truth.

“ Come on Rocky, lemme get some stuff to fix you up. “ 

It’s a few minutes later that Billy sits in the bed of her pick-up with (Y/N) standing between his legs, dabbing alcohol onto his lip and knuckles. If this wasn’t such a ridiculous situation it could even be a little romantic. With her so close to — certain regions of his body. Fucking hell Billy, get it together !

“ So uh — do you wanna talk about what happened ? “ 

“ Not really. “ 

“ You sure I could — “ 

“ Look (Y/N) I don’t have the best life at home, okay ? But that’s all you need to know. I’m not one of your kids that spill their heart and emotions out to you I just needed to get away from home, is that alright with you ?  

“ That’s perfectly fine “.

He can almost feel how genuine her words are. She doesn’t judge or pry. And he is eternally grateful for that. 

“ Why are you here so late anyway ? “ 

“ Had to get some groceries. We’re gonna pretend I didn’t just come here because I had a huge craving for ice cream, okay ? “ 

He scoffs. This girl is ridiculous. And something about that makes her incredibly charming.

“ So, I assume you don’t wanna go home tonight ? “ 

He doesn’t. If Neil has discovered him gone, he can’t show up home again tonight. Not under any circumstances.

“ Not really, no. “ 

“ I have a pretty comfortable couch. It’s big enough for you and it comes with an extra fluffy cuddle companion. “ 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ I have a cat. His name is Luke Skywhiskers and he’s fat and orange and very clingy. So if you don’t mind that — “ she shrugs her shoulders in a way that shouldn’t be nearly as cute as it is. 

Billy isn’t particularly fond of cats, then again he’s never really had a lot to do with any cats. Never being allowed to have any pet because they’re “dirty” and “cost a shit ton of money” according to Neil, Billy was never given the chance to really bond with an animal.

But then again, everything was better than going home.

“ Sounds alright. “ 

“ Okay, cool. “ 

“ Thank you, (Y/N). “ 

“ It’s no problem. Just follow my car and I’ll see you at my place then “ (Y/N) says, pats his chest and gets into her car.

As Billy get into the Camaro and  slumps down in the seat he wonders how his night managed to end like this. Bloodied and bruised and one the way to spend the night at a complete strangers house. 

A stranger who’s shown him more kindness in the last 24 hours than his dad did in the last almsot 18 years. 

Maybe tonight wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it was a solid 5. 

[thewritewolf]

Inseparable Chapter 12: Tears

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

@ladynoirjuly2019

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“Rumors abound about these new heroes,” Marinette read aloud from the Ladyblog article. “Sources confirm that no akuma was seen yesterday, making their appearance at the ice cream parlor all the more mysterious. Eye witnesses claim that the heroes were wearing merchandise of Paris’ famous protectors, suggesting that these might be fans who are trying to follow in Ladybug and Chat Noir’s foot steps.” She had to stop as Chat Noir laughed. “The criminals of Paris are sure to be a little more paranoid knowing that our favorite superheroes could be around any corner. More as it comes. Stay connected!”

She exited the article and closed her yoyo, grinning at Chat as he got his laughing fit under control. He wiped away a tear, her heart soaring with pride when she saw the bracelet she made for him on his wrist, reminding her of the mirrored weight she felt on her wrist. “Well, she isn’t completely wrong. They really are big fans of yours, LB.”

“Big fans of us both, kitty. We’re both pretty claw-esome.”

Chat collapsed back into a heap of giggling and Marinette couldn’t help but laugh along with him until they were both red in the face. She hadn’t thought their disguises were that good, but apparently they were good enough to fool all media outlets that had picked up the story. Maybe she should give them some slack - after all, at most ten people saw them at the shop, and no one took pictures. They could hardly poke holes in their disguise from secondhand sources.

Master Fu returned with steaming tea that he set in front of each of them. He frowned as he stroked his beard. “I do not understand your levity, young ones. This news is surprising. Even common criminals are not so easily dispatched as has been described. I fear more miraculous are in play.”

“Master,” Marinette managed as she calmed down, “we were the vigilantes.”

“Ah.” Fu took a sip of his tea. “Then why were you at that shop? I did not hear of any akumas that night, and it was not on one of your patrols.”

“We, uh, we were just… hanging out.” Chat rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hanging out,” Fu repeated slowly. “I see.” Another sip. “While I approve of you two becoming closer, this is not quite what I had in mind. I urge you to be cautious. Unnecessary attention being drawn to you is not ideal, though I understand your reasons in this case.”

Across from her, Marinette saw Chat staring contemplatively at his cup of tea as he held it. “Something on your mind, chaton?”

“Yeah… What are our vigilante names? I was in the Ladybug stuff so maybe something like…” He struck what Marinette was sure he thought was a badass pose. “...Manbug!”

Marinette snorted and even Master Fu chuckled. Seeing his pouting, she smirked at him. “Sure, Chat. You can be Manbug if you really want to.”

“Well, what about you?” He huffed. “Let’s see you come up with something better.” He drank some of his tea.

“Hm… a Chat Noir theme name… What about… Ladynoir?” Chat’s eyes widened and he choked on his drink. She crossed her arms as he spent a minute or two coughing and recovering. “Is there something wrong with Ladynoir?”

“Oh, I don’t have any problem with Ladynoir, Lovebug.” He pulled out his baton and did a quick search. “But it might really sell the idea that you’re a big fan girl of us.”

He showed the results of his google images search for Ladynoir and she blushed at the fanart of the two of them. When she met his eyes again, he was grinning and waggling his eyebrows.

“Okay, fine, no Ladynoir,” she grumbled.

Master Fu cleared his throat. “I believe we are here for a different purpose than this?” Despite the sternness in his voice, there was a wrinkling around his eyes and a faint smile at his lips. He stood and pulled the mats over. “Shall we get started?”

This session of meditation went much more smoothly than last time, partly because Marinette was more focused on it and partly because she refused to open her eyes and see what her partner was doing. And she was sure he was doing something because, well… he’s Chat Noir. Being distracting is his job description, or at least he acts like it is. After a few minutes, she’d managed to put all thoughts of Chat aside and focus solely on her breathing. Not long after, her mind was emptied of all thoughts.

I hope she isn’t mad at me.

The words were tinged with worry and entered her mind in Chat’s voice. Her eyes flew open and she winced from the lights. Where they always that bright? When her sight adjusted, all she saw was Chat Noir sitting opposite her, eyes closed and body still. It was at that point she realized that in hearing the words, her ears had been bypassed entirely. She looked at her partner, eyes wandering as she tried to make sense of what just happened. As she stared, the designer part of her brain idly noted that black suited him.

Her partner grinned and opened his eyes. “Well, I’ve always thought so. But I’m glad you see it too, bugaboo.” She winced at the sudden noise that hurt her ears.

Master Fu furrowed his brow and looked between them. “Am I missing something, young ones? Is this another… reference that I do not know about?”

Confused, Chat tilted his head with a bemused smile. “What’s the matter? LB just said black suited me. I happen to agree.” He stood and stretched, which reminded Marinette of the stiffness in her own joints. A glance at the clock revealed why - two hours had passed during their meditation.

“She... said nothing. Correct?” Master Fu turned to her.

“Y-yeah. Not that I wasn’t thinking that but-” She looked at Chat flatly when he waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Admire my beauty all you want, LB. I am gorgeous for the people.” He struck a ridiculous pose which drew a surprised giggle out of her.

Master Fu simply stroked his beard as he watched the two of them. “Is there anything else that happened?”

Chat shrugged. “No, not really.” His face split into a grin. “Although if I get to hear more about what my lady really thinks of me… well, I won’t be too upset.”

“You might find yourself regretting that, chaton.” Getting to her feet, she rolled her shoulders and stretched out her legs. She’d need to be limber to get home. “Well, master, it’s getting late. Are we okay, or is it just something from the meditation?”

“Do not concern yourself with it for the time being.” Master Fu smiled. “I’m sure it is nothing to worry about.”

Marinette had the suspicious feeling he knew more than he was letting on, but she was starting to feel more and more exhausted by the minute. Besides, it was hardly the first time Master Fu had left them in the dark for vague reasons. After they said their goodbyes, she and Chat parted ways outside the little shop Master Fu called home.

The way home was practically memorized by now and before she knew it, she landed on her balcony. She fell into her room and dropped her transformation in one movement and just as she started getting ready for bed, her stomach growled. The noise was echoed by the growl of a much tinier stomach.

Tikki giggled beside her. “Sorry. Want to grab some midnight snacks?”

Marinette crept down the stairs, but relaxed when she heard her mom snoring. Marinette was surprised - mom must be really out of it to be snoring so loud she can hear her through the door. She shook her head and walked into the kitchen, rummaging for any bakery leftovers to tide her over until the morning.

Naturally, it didn’t take long for Tikki to track down the cookies. As she passed by the fridge, she saw a note taped to the fridge. No doubt one of her dad’s reminders to himself - pretty common when they receive a special order since he could get a little carried away sometimes. Out of curiosity, she read the note. What she read made her nearly drop all the goodies she’d collected in her arms.

“Remember: Agreste Fashion Show, one week from now. Catering, more macaroons.”

A smile slowly dawned on her face as she went back upstairs. After how well she did last time, maybe she could convince her parents to let her help out again? Not only would she get to see Adrien at work, she’d get to see a Gabriel brand fashion show for free!

Between her tiredness and her excitement, she never noticed that she had managed to walk through her house without a single light on to guide her, completely at ease in the near pitch black conditions.

[treasure-my-aurora]

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door

A/n: Just to be clear, this is not a y/n fic because I seriously can't write in "you" form (or whatever you call it) to save my life. Oc/reader is scandinavian because a major plot point is her blonde hair and blue eyes. Sorry not sorry  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This can be read as a seperate work but there is a refrence in it that comes from my previous work, 'Making Love Out of Nothing at All' so please check that out first if you haven't ♥

Pairing: Hongjoong / fem!Reader

Genre: Porn with Plot, fluffy af

Summary:  I worked shifts in a small club underneath a 4-star hotel in the middle of Seoul, as a hostess. I wasn’t a prostitute, my main job was to entertain, serve drinks and host events. But I wasn’t allowed to decline if someone wanted a private session. The clock neared midnight a hot wednesday evening the 10th of July and my hope of getting a good days pay was dissapearing with every minute. But the anxious feeling in my stomach was interrupted when a group of eight almost fell through the entrence door and one certain red haired promised that he'd make my night.

I thanked the power of air conditioning for the hundredth time that day. It was hot outside, the summer sun cooked anything underneath its beams, and I squirmed, uncomfortably in the white Qipao dress I was wearing. The fabric hugged my body, with golden details and embroidery that made my pale skin shine, packing it tight and I swallowed again, contemplating if I should just excuse myself for a few minutes to push a finger down my throat and throw up my lunch because I was fighting to keep it down anyway. “Hey you!” A man’s voice echoed between the walls of the booth I was serving, and the snap of his fingers made me flinch, “You don’t get paid to just stand there and look pretty, serve me my drink or get me someone who can” I felt my face flush, thankful that my make-up covered it and set down the tray of drinks I had in my hands. Rough, calloused fingers found their way to the lower parts of my thighs as I leaned over and I swallowed, repressed the vile taste that rose in my mouth. I let the action happen, not being able to do anything as the hand reached higher, touching just below my buttock. I cleared my throat, “A private session will be 121420 won” The slap against my thighs that followed made me fall forward and I nearly spilled the drinks when I caught myself on the edge of the table. I made eye contact with a co-worker and close friend, who gave me a sympathetic look, seated between two others in the company we were serving. “Don’t kid yourself woman, I will not pay that much for you” The man laughed and muttered something about foreigners while pointing at me like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. I looked down, ashamed, my hair hanging like a curtain to hide my red cheeks. I was born and raised in Korea, but my family was Scandinavian and even though I consider myself equal to the rest of the black haired and brown eyed population, many would disagree. My blonde long locks and blue eyes spoke of my difference and it’s been multiple times when I had to tell people that I could understand everything that they whispered about me. The man and his three friends roared with laughter, hands pounding the table and my co-worker clenched her jaw, so subtle that you wouldn't notice it, stress visible in her eyes as the man next to her threw his arm around her shoulders. I don’t think he meant to, but we’d been serving them for hours and they were quite drunk, and my co-worker, who couldn’t be more than 160 cm and weigh less than 50 kg was easily manhandled to the ground underneath the table. She shrieked in surprise and I signalled to the barkeeper, a big and burly man, at least 2 meters high and with biceps as thick as my thighs, who had been watching us the whole time. My heart broke from not being able to rush forward and help her out. The men’s laughter reflected on the walls and I found myself swallowing again, trying not to puke as one of the men grabbed a handful of my co-worker’s hair. Her screaming silenced by the barkeeper’s sharp open hand against the man's head, who immediately released her and jumped up, ready to give out punches to the person who’d slapped him. “You’ve had enough, leave now and there won’t be any more trouble” the barkeeper ordered and the men held up their open hands, when they realised that they it wasn’t worth getting their asses beaten, an innocent look on their faces and they got up from their seats. The one that had slapped my thigh, grabbed my chin forcefully, coming disgustingly close to my face, “I’m not done with you yet; you better be careful. I didn’t get to finish my beer. I’d sleep with one eye open tonight if I were you” I flinched at his breath, the smell of cheap vodka burned my nostrils and he chuckled before spitting on the floor in front of me before he grabbed his coat to join the others. My co-worker stumbled over to me and I invited her in my arms, “Let’s get you cleaned up” I said while patting her back and gave the barkeeper a thankful look before I lead her to a private toilet at the back, behind the bar. We worked shifts in a small club underneath a 4-star hotel in the middle of Seoul, as hostesses. My employer owned the club and was brother with the barkeeper who just helped us. I wasn’t a prostitute, my main job was to entertain, serve drinks and host events. But I wasn’t allowed to decline if someone wanted a private session. The prices ranged between 121420 won to 2428400 won, depending on what kind of session it was and even though it was rare, only twice or thrice a week, I wasn’t always happy with it. I enjoyed sex, I enjoyed when men (and women) worshipped my body, taking me and using me to get themselves of. It was empowering, most of the time and it gave me a hell of an ego boost. It was safe, we always used protection, got tested regularly and the barkeeper had his eyes on us and was sure that we escaped a worse fate than what just happened to my co-worker. But there would always be people who thought they were entitled to one more session, one more dance, one more drink and that’s where things could get dangerous. Just as early as last week, an 18-year-old a few blocks down, was strangled to death and I always feared that it would happen to me, or to one of the girls I was working with. I looked down at my co-worker, just barely knowing her real name and age. She was closest to me but didn't enjoy talking about things that was too private and I didn’t want to guess. Her hands trembled in her lap when I wet a towel and removed the tear smeared makeup, patting her back with comforting movements. “I hate this, I hate it” She whispered, and I hushed her, scared that someone would hear before I nodded. More tears welled up in her eyes and she looked away, down on her hands, her leg anxiously bouncing, and I let her act out her restlessness as I washed her face. I led her to our changing room and made her sit down in a chair while getting the makeup. It wasn’t complicated; some blush, mascara and a red lip and she was ready. “Are you ok?" I asked and she gave me a weak smile. I knew that she wanted to tell me that no, she wasn't and that she probably never would be, doing the work we did but those words were unspoken, and I gave her a hug instead, holding her tight. "Let’s go” I told her, and we went out again going our separate ways when she noticed one of our regulars. It was getting late, closing in on midnight and I fiddled with the hem of my dress nervously, prepared to greet the next client that walked through the door. It was a Wednesday and we didn’t count on much more activity. Just the usual regulars and me, not exactly being new but still one of the newest, had most of my regulars throughout the weekend. One of my other co-workers walked up and joined me on the lowest step, watching the door three steps up and gave my arm a squeeze. I thought for a second that she’d joined me for my company, but the door opened just as the clock hit 11:10 and one of her regulars walked in. She gave me a small smile before leading him directly to the back, knowing his schedule and what he wanted by now. I sighed, feeling how my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. I’d made enough today to eat and pay my rent, but tomorrow was Thursday and those days were even slower than today had been. If no one would enter by 12 am I’d have to seduce someone first thing tomorrow and though I didn’t mind the sex, the seducing part, the part when I felt that I wasn’t in control, scared me. 11:30 and my back hurt as I arched it, needed to constantly carry my body in that beautiful S shaped form. Suddenly several clamping feet over the floor above me, interrupted my concentration and my heart jumped as the door opened and a whole gang of eight entered. I forced down my shoulders so that I wouldn’t look tense, clasped my hands over my midriff in the same way a prude princess from a fairy tale would. Lips curled up in a way that invited to conversation, eyes open and curious. Lovable, sweet and gorgeous, honey sweet with my blonde hair and white Qipao. “Damn look at you” One of them, with a silver blonde bowl cut said, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom and I gave him a brilliant smile, “Hyung, I don’t think that you need to look much further. If you don’t choose her, I might do” he continued and I couldn’t help but smirk, it wasn’t rare for me to see one or two K-pop groups come by, and this moment was one of those times where it was so obvious that K-pop was their profession. Their hair colours ranged from the silver blonde, to light brown, black, blue, red and the blonde that had been called ‘Hyung’. My work came with secrecy and I could only observe in silence as the beautiful men (and occasional women) that ruled our music industry released weeks and sometimes months of training and stress from world tours and comebacks in our laps. I didn’t complain, almost teary eyed with happiness as the anxiety I’d been feeling in my stomach disappeared when I realized their intentions as they flocked around me, like dogs around a treat and I felt my cheeks flush when the blonde that had been called Hyung looked at me with hungry eyes. The bar keeper’s voice thundered down on us, suggested them a table and something to drink and the group dissolved around me just as my co-worker from before joined me, being done with her client. “How’s your scalp?” I asked, not looking at her because my focus was supposed to be on the group that just entered. I could hear her scoff out a small laugh though, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her Qipao, hers a gorgeous green that matched her eyes. She’d accidently spilled that she had roots in England over a glass wine too many just over a year ago. Her grandmother an immigrant and though the red hair that she used to have wasn’t passed down to my co-worker, she considered herself lucky enough with the exotic eye colour. “I’m fine, thank you” She whispered just as the blonde whistled. “You, you’re going to join me later” He pointed at me and I gulped at the sudden proposal. My co-worker sighed beside me in defeat, she needed the money just as much as me and after everything that had happened to her today, I felt like she deserved a treat. It wasn’t a secret that idols where the best kind of clients, all of them young and fit with almost endless stamina and most of them just wanted casual sex, nothing too complicated and were generally generous back. I couldn’t help but smile big, putting my hand on her back and pushing her slightly forward, “Why settle with just one when you can have two?” I asked and the blondes smile disappeared. My request made his mouth fall open; eyes wide with surprise that it was even an option. His friends hit him on the back, screaming for no apparent reason and I wondered how much sugar they must’ve mixed with alcohol before coming here. Their energy was insane, and I would’ve taken a step back if it wasn’t for the positivity they radiated. “Can I just pipe in with one thing” One of the guys, the smaller with light brown hair and delicate features, “It’s San’s birthday and of course he deserves the best but…” He turned to the red head across the table, “Our leader deserves something nice as well, Aurora has received amazing support and I think that he did a really nice job” I suppressed the reflex of raising my brows as the leader, who I first thought was the maknae rose up and bowed to the small applause that followed. “Winner gets the blonde” the black haired screamed and a couple of people in the club looked over at the spectacle as the apparent Hyung and leader proceeded to play rock, paper, scissors. It was close but, in the end, the red head was victorious with 3-2. He downed the shot that had been placed at their table at their arrival and scooted past the blondes upset face, extended his hand for me to take and said, “Shall we"?” Before sticking his tongue out at his friends. I bit down on my lips, suppressing a giggle because it would be inappropriate to show any sort of enjoyment from their game. I turned around just as we rounded the corner to see my co-worker smiling as the blonde haired; San, quickly got up, not slow to show her everything he first intended to show me, spun her around and dipped her, her laughter bounced on the walls and I smiled to myself while leading the red haired to my room. He closed the door behind him, and the sudden silence was deafening, my slightly soundproof walls just picked up the beat of the music. He sat down on the bed, smoothed out the white linen and I propped myself up against my wardrobe, ready to obey his every command. “I’m sorry about what just happened” He said softly, not looking up at me, the light strand above my bed softly illuminated his features and I gulped, “What that just happened?” I asked, fearing that he might call me stupid, but he just chuckled, “You’re worth much more than just three papers in a row but I just had to have you for myself. Even though it’s San’s birthday and I feel just slightly bad that I ripped him off but I just… He leaned back against his hands, eyes at the ceiling and I gulped. It has been some time since I had someone that looked so good in my bed. His skin looked so smooth it was almost ridiculous and the contrast with the red hair made it glow in the soft light. He wore a simple black t-shirt with a print that I couldn’t fully read, a blazer and matching black slacks and I almost groaned at the sight of him, “I just couldn’t lose. Not this time” He looked over at me, intensity in his eyes and I wet my lips, suddenly nervous. The feeling settled uncomfortably in my stomach and my heart jumped. It had never done that before, no matter how handsome the person in front of me were. I knew that I looked good, I was fortunate with a nearly perfect body according to most beauty standards. I was curvy but at the right places, a bit thicker than my co-workers and men, especially foreigners, seemed to love it. But even though I felt blessed now, with a healthy diet and daily exercise, I used to be bullied in school for my extra fat. My Scandinavian roots didn’t make it any better and, in the end, school was the main reason why I ran away from home. My parents had tried to understand me, but they were so busy with work that they barely even had time for each other, and I felt lost, abandoned. So, I ran, and tried to get by with a few thousand won, some clothes in a backpack and my phone. That was seven years ago, and I’d been through some bad shit since then. I quickly got addicted to alcohol and became a sex worker for almost four years after I ran away. It was a literal hell hole to climb out of and I lost a whole year to a battle I never ever want to experience again. Quite quickly after that, I moved to another part of Seoul, wanting to start anew. I found a contact who knew one of my old co-worker’s. She set me up where I was working now and even though some would argue that it was basically the same job, there hasn’t been a day where I regret my decision. I have another purpose than just being a body to fuck. I’ve been trained in the art of standing still for hours, never breaking my smile and never waver from my position. I learned how to elegantly walk with a tray of drinks, how to talk, sit, laugh and move properly and I like to think that I am good at my job, having most of my clients from Friday to Monday when it’s busiest and most of them were people who wanted to just get a quick fix, be it attention, affection or sex. The age range is big, from rich middle-aged agents looking for someone to dominate them for a chance, unhappily married middle class office workers, poor students who only increased their debts and the occasional group of idols who came in to blow out some steam. “Why?” I asked, coming back from my train of thought and the man chuckled, and I had to bite back a smile as his eyes squinted and a perfect set of white teeth were revealed, “You really want me to say it, don’t you?” He had something teasing in his voice and I could feel my heart jump again, “Yes… tell me why you couldn’t lose” My voice was low, and my body writhed slightly against my arms that were locked against the closet I was leaning against. He got up, slowly, like a carnivore ready to attack its prey and I gasped at the duality of him. One moment he was sweet, squinted eyes and a big smile and now I had to lean back, as if his presence had grown a meter. He managed to look down on me even though he couldn’t be more than a decimetre taller and I felt my body quaking before him. He licked his lips and stepped into my intimate zone just half a meter or so from my face. “I knew that I wanted you since the very second I saw you. You are special... reminding me of someone I met a few months ago” Something sad shadowed his features and I felt my heart drop, realising that I wasn’t special because I was me but because I was like somebody else. “Who was she?” I asked quietly, determined not to let his words hurt my ego and he sighed, pulling his fingers through his hair, “Just a fan really, but she taught me a lot. About what to do, what to say…” He trailed off and bit his lips, “She was my noona, are you as well?” I swallowed. Damn these younger groups and their age kinks. I clenched my jaw, “How old are you?” I asked and crossed my arms across my chest, determined not to let him push me around if he was younger than me, “21” He answered, and my heart picked up harshly in my chest, “Then I’m your noona” I said, and I could swear that something glazed over his eyes. He took another step forward, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him from going any further. He flinched slightly as if I burned him, but I kept my hand in place, feeling the muscles under his shirt clench and I swallowed again, my mouth dry and I could feel my stomach doing somersaults. I collected myself, cleared my throat and then said as definite as I could, my voice still shaking a little, “One basic session is 121420 won for 30 minutes and then prices range up, depending on how nasty you like it” He only nodded as if he wasn’t interested in either how much it would cost him or much time we had and placed a warm hand on my waist, thumb pressing on my hip bone. I shivered involuntarily and he flushed his body against me, all lean strong muscles and soft skin and I bit my lower lip. “What’s your name?” I asked, my voice but a whisper and he smirked, “Hongjoong” Before meeting my lips in a soft kiss. I groaned against him and he smiled between the kisses as if he knew the impact he already had on me, his hands traveling up my sides to my throat and my breath hitched as he cupped my face and deepened the kiss, licking his way into my mouth. I tasted the shot he’d taken earlier on his tongue and underneath that, traces of strawberries from a previous drink. He consumed me, pushed me against the wardrobe with his body weight. His taste, the smell of his cologne and his body against mine made my heart pound. I’d fucked hundreds of men, kissed even more and it was rare that I felt the sweet feeling of butterflies in my stomach. This was one of those moments though and I could feel my body flush with excitement as he pushed one knee between mine, softly separating them and grinded agonizingly slow against me. I gulped at the apparent boner poking against my thigh and he chuckled when he realised that I’d noticed. I placed my hands on his chest, my want and lust overshadowed any kind of soft foreplay and he gasped as I pulled his blazer over his shoulders, the fabric of it softly crinkling as it hit the floor. I broke away from his lips and pressed him closer to me, placing kisses from the corner of his mouth, down his cheek to his throat and I could feel him swallow as I nibbled over the big artery on the side of his neck. A groan escaped his lips from the teasing, and I pushed him backwards, the back of his legs hit the bed before he fell. His back hit the bed first with a small thump and I bit my lip to suppress a giggle as he gave out a small surprised yelp. He raised himself up on his elbows and I swallowed, serious again as my hands reached for the buttons of my Qipao. I’d done this more times than I could remember and yet, this time hit differently. There was an almost intimate feeling between us, and he cocked his head to one side, biting his tongue and his hooded eyes met mine as I slid the dress off my shoulders, letting it pool around my ankles, revealing a white lace set. “God, noona… you’re gorgeous” He said, voice almost a whimper and I bit my lip when I noticed his cock twitching from anticipation in his black slacks. His legs rested on the side of the low bed and I twirled a lock of hair between my fingers, watched as his chest rose with every fast inhale, “Tell me what you want me to do” I said, voice sugar sweet and he groaned softly, eyes rolling as he popped open the button on his slacks, “I want you to suck me off noona, please? I promise I’ll do you after if you want, I just need…” I didn’t hesitate for a second as soon as he gave me the command, dropped to my knees and earned a small gasp of surprise when I unzipped him and pulled down the slacks and underwear to his midthigh in an instant. My mouth watered, breath hitched, and I could feel my heart pounding in my ears as my hand closed around the girth of his cock, “…need some release” He breathed out the rest of his sentence as he threw his head back when I pumped him lazily, feeling how he grew harder under my touch, inspecting how his facial expressions changed to see how I could get him off best. “Please” He whined, hands reaching out to touch my cheek and I looked up at him, confused. His brows furrowed, bottom lip between his teeth and his fingers pulled on my hair, downward and I understood that teasing wasn’t really his thing. I paused my movements and locked my gaze with him, watching as his mouth fell open when my tongue flicked out. I lapped the head of his cock a few times, feeling how my panties got soaked as a low guttural moan escaped his throat. The salty taste of pre-cum laid heavy on my tongue as I took him in my mouth and swallowed, letting him hit the back of my throat, my gag reflex non-existent from doing this for years and he choked out a sob, grabbing my hair forcefully but I didn’t mind. I loved the taste, loved the weight of him on my tongue and I placed my hands around his hip, pushing him down as my nose bumped onto his pubic bone. I hollow my cheeks and came up for air, bobbing down his length and licking my way up, dipping my tongue into the slit at the top and he was a writing mess underneath me, one hand thrown over his eyes, panting breaths escaping his mouth and his other hand tangled in my hair, holding me in place. I swallowed down around him again and his chest heaved with irregular breathing and I could feel him holding back his need for release. I let go of his hips, placing my hand on the sides of his thighs instead, pulling his hips upward a few times and he quickly got the idea. A deep choked out growl made me squirm and I could feel how saliva coated my chin as he thrusted into my throat, first carefully, as if he was scared that he’d hurt me but I’d been through worse and he got bolder, pushing my head down to meet his thrusts and I could feel my eyes tearing up from the raw friction as he fucked my throat, using me to get himself off. My arousal burned between my legs with the confirmation that I got him into the moaning mess he was underneath me. I was the one who got him panting and gasping and moaning for release. “Noona… I…. I’m…” He gasped, pulling on the sheet with his free hand, thighs shaking, and I swallowed around him again, his thrusting irregular and offbeat and I knew he was close. I kept him there, moaning at his desperation and the vibrations of it set him off him and he came undone, mouth falling open, head thrown back and body freezing and then shuddering as hot spurts of cum filled my throat. I groaned at the surprisingly sweet taste, fantasized that maybe he’d been planning on getting here and have been on a strict diet of fruit all day for my enjoyment. He shook, and I let him ride out his orgasm before letting him go and leaned back to see what I’d done to him, reaching for a napkin on the windowsill to clean myself up. I watched him as he came back from his high, beautiful as a painting, face and neck flushed a gorgeous pink, his lips red from biting onto them too hard and cock still twitching. I tossed the napkin away and he looked up at me with drunken eyes. “Wow, I needed that” He said, and I smiled back, just happy to help. I sat up again in front of him, my hands resting on my knees, ready for him to give me another command. “What are you waiting for?” He asked, puzzled as he sat back up, looking down on me from the edge of the bed. “What do you want me to do?” I asked again, my job was to please, and I didn't want to make any decisions for him. His eyebrows rose in a ‘huh’ expression and he leaned back against his hands, “Undress for me” he said, a smirk on his lips and I swallowed, standing up. My hands reached back, and I unclasped my bra, keeping eye contact with him and he deflated like a balloon when my breast sprung free and I pulled down my panties. A low gasp fell from his lips when he saw me standing there, naked as the day I was born. My hands fiddled with each other and I felt how my heart skipped a beat. My skin flushed from arousal and I looked away, suddenly shy from his gaze as he looked at me like he wanted to devour me. There was a clear stain on the inside of my thigh where my wetness escaped my cunt and Hongjoong smirked when the light behind him reflected in it. His ego blew up like a fire when he realized the influence he had on me. It filled the room, suffocating me and I involuntarily took a step back when he got up. He stepped out of his slacks and underwear and pulled the t-shirt over his head in one swift movement and I felt my breath hitch in my throat as he stepped into my intimate zone, putting his arms around my waist and pushing my naked body against his. His touch send electric jolts through my skin and goose bumps made my skin prickle and nipples harden and he cupped my breasts, delighted to see such a reaction from me. I let out a whiny moan and looked away as he teased one bud between his fingertips, his other hand moving up to my throat and I swallowed, my heart beating so hard I that I was sure he could hear it. “Come” he said softly and lead me to the bed again. He pushed me down softly with a hand on my chest so that I lay on my back, much like he’d done just a moment ago and I felt like my heart was going to burst when he laid down between my separated legs, pressing his body weight on me again. He cupped my face, softly and I sobbed silently against his lips when they met mine in a chaste kiss. I’d never experienced that someone wanted to take it so slow. To just enjoy me and my company. Most of the men I was with would be done by now, not giving me a second glance and here he was, Hongjoong, looking down at me like he saw through me. Past the fact that we only had a moment, the fact that he would pay me when he was satisfied, the fact that he was just one of many. He saw me, my personality, my insecurities, my passion and lust for him at this moment and I could feel how he radiated from satisfaction that he made me feel as hopelessly lost to him as I made him feel lost to me. His hand travelled from my sides, up my neck to my cheek and he cupped them, looking into my eyes and I could feel his chest rising and sinking against mine. “God, I’ve missed this” He whispered and leaned down to kiss my lips again, another slow chaste one and placed his thumb on my lower lip, carefully pushed it between my teeth into my mouth. His tongue flicked out, tasting my lower lip before slipping it into my mouth in an open kiss. My own tongue met his and it was wet and messy, and I loved it, my body writing underneath his as I felt my arousal tick like a small bomb between my legs. He groaned when tasting the traces of himself on my lips and I gasped as his hand flicked over my right nipple. He squeezed my breast, kneading it hard, a desperate gasp escaping his lips and he grinded down heavily on me with his body as if he wanted to disappear within me. His already half hard cock poked at my thigh and I spread my legs wider to allow him to sink closer to me. “You’re going to be the death of me, Jagi” He moaned and I swallowed, feeling how my eyes teared up to the sweet nickname, something you only called someone you really liked, someone beloved and the butterflies that was flying around in my stomach picked up their speed. He paused, sensing the difference in the energy I emitted, and his brows furrowed when he saw my emotional state. “Wha-?” “Call me Jagi again” I begged, and he smiled, scoffing out a small laugh and brushed the hair from my face. “My beautiful Jagi, who’s made me all hot and bothered” I stuck my tongue out as he teased me. “Do you like me all sweet and smiley, Jagi? He continued in a voice dipped in honey as his hand travelled down between my legs and I gasped when he put his hand flat on my vulva, “Or do you want me to take control? How much do you want me Jagi?” he asked, voice dropping an octave and I swallowed, excited that his nature could switch so fast, “Tell me” he breathed into my ear and I shivered with wanton lust, my thighs rubbing his hips and he grinded slowly against me, the underside of his cock rubbing my clit in slow movements as his fingers separated the folds and he shook with the need to restrain himself from plunging into me. I was so wet that he glided over me, the delightful burning pleasure made me choke on my breath, “Tell me how much you want me; how much you want me to destroy you” I wasn’t one for begging, preferring the men I slept with to beg for me. Loving the feeling of being in control of their need, their release but I couldn’t help but squirm under Hongjoong’s gaze, his eyes so black that the sweet brown was just a thin circle around his eyes. “I want you to fuck me, want you to take me and use me until you are completely spent. I want you to walk out of here knowing that you’ve left me drenched in your cum” He inhaled sharply as I played out the scene of him using me and I could feel his cock twitching between our bodies. “Play with yourself Jagi… I want to watch you lose control” I whined out a gasp, biting my lower lip and I grabbed my breast, flicking my nipples between my fingers and my heart jumped with excitement as his eyebrows raised and he motioned for me to move my hands lower. My fingers stroked down my sides and I bit my lip as they reached my legs, rubbing my inner thighs. He leaned back to see properly, and I inhaled sharply at his figure. He was more turned on than I’d guessed, cock already angry red and blood filled. Rock hard and pointing proudly against his belly button and I shuddered from need as I raised my legs to wrap them against his hips. My fingers reached their destination and I pressed down on my clit softly, my back arched as pleasure shot through my body. “Damn Jagi, look at you” He moaned and wrapped his hand around his cock, not able to contain himself at the sight of me, melting under his own touch and I gasped out a breathy moan as his head fell back. He tugged on himself a few times, beads of pre-cum smearing over his clasped hand, panting increasing and I lazily stroked my clit while watching him, my heart beating hard in my ears and I couldn’t help but whine. “Hongjoong please, I need you inside me” My voice seemed to wake him up because he growled and reached over to my bedside table where the condoms were, opened one with his teeth and rolled it over his cock, hands shaking and I held his gaze as he pulled my body against his hips with a sharp tug, locked my legs around his waist, hands gripping my thighs hard as he lined up. He entered me with one swift movement of his hips, the eagerness of not letting me adjust to the size of him had me gasping and he burrowed his face in the crook of my neck when he was fully inside of me. His labored breathing in my ear and my own heartbeat was the only thing I heard, and I pushed on his lower back with the heels of my feet, making sure that he was so deep into me that he could. Not able to help myself from moving, I rolled my hips agonizingly slowly, clenching around him, teasing him and he groaned before pulling out of me, just slightly before jolting his hips forward and I held onto him as the friction made me writhe. He was deliciously slow, feeling me up and bringing me down with every snap of his hips. His hand cupped my face and his lips met mine again, all lips and tongues and playful nibbles as he thrusted harder, faster, pounding my body into the mattress and soon I was a gasping mess underneath him. “Fuck Jagi, you’re so wet” he moaned against my lips, “Feels so good…” his moan turned into a choked sob as he bit down on his lower lip, hands on my hips, pulling me down on his cock to meet his thrusts and I swore, my hands pulling on the red strands of his hair, “Touch yourself, I need you to come first” He growled against me, sitting up again and my fingers reached between us. I rubbed myself, angling my hips down and he bit his lips, a groan leaving his lips and his head cocked to the side when he looked down. My fingers spread the wetness around my clit as I rubbed myself, a small gasp escaping his throat when he watched with hooded eyes, the lips of my cunt swallowing him down, over and over again and I moaned, loved seeing him coming undone from the sight of me. His body was covered in a sheen layer of sweat, chest heaving and thighs shaking but he didn’t seem like he needed to slow down at all. Quite the opposite, as he placed one hand on my chest to stabilise himself and hoisting me into his lap, leaning back, toes digging into the bed and his other hand threatening to bruise my waist and my head fell back against the pillow. I could feel my entire body move with every powerful thrust and I felt myself tipping over the edge embarrassingly fast. I clenched up and Hongjoong moaned when he felt my walls constrict around him, watching my face as I came harder than I’d done in months. “Fuck Jagi, I’d gladly pay to see you make that face again” He swore, and I choked out a chuckle. He slowed down as I came down from my high, leaning forward again to press down a kiss on my lips and I hummed against his lips, meeting his slow thrusts and enjoying the afterglow. He wrapped his right arm around me, holding himself up slightly with the other and buried his face in the crook of my neck, placing soft kisses there and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling my heart swell as we laid so close against each other. The sweet burning stretch of his thrust made me squirm with bliss and I wanted to pause time. To take a snapshot of this intimate moment to fill my mind every time I was with someone who was less giving. I swallowed as he got up again, locked his eyes with mine and the tender look he had made me want to cry. His fingers brushed my forehead and I melted against his gentle touch as he combed my hair from my face. His lips met mine again and he paused, as if he wanted to capture this moment as well and I felt my heart skip, “We don’t need to take it slow” I whispered, his forehead against mine, his hard, warm breath against my face and my fingers played with the short hair in the nape of his neck. He chuckled softly, “I know, I just wanted to give you a breather” My brows furrowed and I only caught a glimpse of a mischievous twinkle in his eyes before he pulled out and flipped me around as if I was light as paper. He hoisted my hips up and entered me again with one sharp snap of his hips and I cried into my sheets when he didn’t give me time to get used to the new position. He pounded fast into me from behind and I immediately arched my back, ass in the air, arms above my head while supporting myself on my elbows. He groaned, gripping my hip with his left hand and I bit down on my lip when he dug his fingers into my flesh, desperate and needy to claim, to control. His other hand grabbed a handful of my hair and he twisted it before pulling and my head snapped back, the sweet pain in my scalp made me choke on my breath. He pressed a sloppy kiss on the nape of my neck, kissing down my spine and I felt my skin prickle as he flushed his chest against my back. He moaned, the hand holding onto my hip traveled over the round of my ass and he kneaded my buttock harshly before bringing down his hand, flat and hard over the soft skin, the slap echoed between the walls of my room and I whined out a moan as the sharp sting shot straight to my core. “Damn, I can’t get enough of you Jagi” He gasped, voice low and husky and I groaned in response, not able to find my voice as his hand left another stinging slap on my butt cheek. I clenched around him with surprise and a thick moan left his throat, “Do that again Jagi… fuck… I’m so close” His voice erratic and I clenched around him again, loving the sounds that spilled from his lips as his thrusting became irregular, thighs shaking and his grip on my hair hardned, arching my back so that he could fuck me harder, deeper and i let out a choked sob when i felt him tensing up behind me with one last thrust and I shuddered, feeling how his cock twitched as he pushed himself balls deep into me, a whimpered growl leaving his lips as he softly bit down on my neck to stifle his moan. The motion so ancient and primal that it was on the verge of being animalistic and I felt my heart beating hard in my ears, the thumping deafening. He let go of me a moment later and i turned over to lay on my back again, winching slightly from the pain in my scalp and back. I looked up at him, his flushed cheeks and the red hair spread in every direction, beads of sweat on his forehead and in the roots of his hair. Chest heaving and cock still half hard and I bit my lip, feeling how my own arousal still burned between my legs. He left me for just a second, discarting the condom into a bin next to my bed before he placed his hands on my thighs, fingers tapping butterfly soft on my inner side of them. It was supposed to be a sweet gesture but I couldn’t help but gulp, still very much turned on and his eyebrows raised when I rubbed my legs together, wanting nothing more than those fingers inside of me. “You’re not done yet, are you?” He asked almost amazed, voice so incredibly low that I shuddered. He leaned forward, rubbed circles on my thighs, urging me to seperate them and I complied, my face burrowed behind my hands and I could hear him sigh softly when he watched me. “Look at me Jagi” He ordered, voice silky smooth but the dominant undertone made me gulp and I inhaled sharply when I removed my hands, feeling my face flush when I met his eyes again. He kept his gaze locked with mine and his left hand on my thigh, holding me in place, my legs on either side of his hips where he sat on his knees. His right hand caressed the inner side, just a decimetre from their destination and I sucked my lower lip into my mouth, clenching around nothing when soft fingertips stroked over the sensitive skin there. “Tell me what you want me to do” His voice husky and i could feel tears forming in my eyes from arousal as he repeated the same words as i had used at the beginning of our session, as if our roles were changed. He looked down on me, eyelids heavy and fingers tapping just centimeters from where I craved them “You gave me a promise” My voice was needy and whiny and I could feel my heart pounding, not being used to be the one in control, to be the one getting worshipped. But he only smirked, happy to please and laid down on his stomach, kissing my inner thighs on his way down and I shuddered from the sweat gesture, his lips soft on my skin. He placed my legs over his shoulders and I choked out a cry when he placed his tongue flat on my folds, licking between them and I shuddered against his face. I could feel him smiling, nose bumping against my pubic bone as he began eating me out, drinking my juices like a starved man. I borrowed my fingers into the red of his hair, loving the scene of it between my legs. He gently sucked on my clit, paused to come up for air and I could feel my eyes tearing up as he smirked to my reaction, chin wet and eyes hooded, hair tousled from being pulled and I gasped breathlessly when he leaned closer, pushing his body against mine, fingers pressed onto my clit and my back arched as they rubbed softly and agonizingly slow. He bit his lower lip, keeping eye contact with me when his finger travelled down between my folds and my mouth fell open when he pushed in his middle and ring finger to the knuckle, softly hooked in a “come hither” movement and a whiny gasp left my lips when he tickled my sweet spot. “Need one more taste” he groaned and leaned down again to lick my clit, fingers still pumping lazily into me and my back arched, the back of my head pushing down on the pillow and a silent scream leaving my lips when my eyes rolled back from the pleasure shooting through me. I could hear him breathlessly chuckling against my folds, the obscene sound of him slurping my juices filled the room and i got drunk on them, got drunk on him, the mixed smell of sex and his cologne surrounded me, clouded my senses and I never wanted him to stop. His left hand gripped my thighs harder as he pushed himself closer to me, as if he couldn’t get enough either, wanting to reach deeper, his toungue lapped against me, pushing against his fingers as he tried to fuck my hole in as many ways as possible and I could feel myself standing on the edge, hands in his hair and mouth dry. I licked my lips and whined out, “Don’t stop” while moving my hips against him, riding his face and he gripped my thigh harder, picking up speed with his fingers and i was gone within seconds. My mouth fell open as I convulsed against him, my hearing blown out and body going numb as pleasure shot through me. He let me ride out my orgasm and came back up when I was down from my high and I choked on my own breath. He looked so wonderfully fucked out that i wanted to cry and I swallowed hard. He bit his lip and his cheeks flushed red when he suddenly clasped around his cock hard. I looked down, surprised to see him leaking from precum, a clear stain where he’d laid and I gulped as he tugged on himself, a breathy moan escaping his lips and eyes glossy from arousal. “Can I come on you?” He asked, voice husky and I nodded almost embarrassingly quick as I took a shaky inhale, not even realising that he was so far gone already. He placed his left hand on my thigh again, fingertips digging into my skin as his head fell back. His movements where fast and erratic when he started to fuck his own hand, slowly grinding into it and I groaned from the sight, touching myself and writing from the oversensitvity. Beads of pre-cum dripped down on my thigh and he locked eyes with me again as I separated my legs, letting him see my wetness, putting on a show for him as I dipped my fingers into my hole. An animalistic growl left his lips and he pushed his cock down to slide the head between my folds, and I didn’t stop him. I got checked regularly and knew that I didn’t carry anything. Normally I’d scoot away, not trusting the person I was with to be healthy as well but his despreration clouded my judgement and found myself not caring as I just pressed down on my clit harder when he dipped the head of his cock into me, furiously jacking himself off at the same time, his breathing labored, eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip between his teeth, threatening to draw blood. The overstimulation from pressing down my clit became too much and soon I was coming again, my body tensing up and Hongjoong whined when he noticed me clenching around the head of his cock without warning, his name fell from my lips as I writhed underneath him and his hand tightened on my thigh, face contorted from coming for the third time that night. Body convulsing as hot ribbons of cum painted my lower stomach and chest and I groaned with satisfaction. He fell forward, caught himself with one hand and I swallowed when his lips suddenly met mine again. It was slow, sweet and I felt my eyes tearing up when I realised that it was a goodbye kiss. His lips moved against mine and he pulled on my hair to hold me closer, a gasp fell from my lips and he hummed back, sharply inhaling through his nose. We separated, the need for air taking over and I smiled when he cupped my face, placing a playful kiss on the tip of my nose before getting up and walking over to the bathroom. He came back with a wet towel and I thanked him when I took it, debating with myself if I should just let him leave with his cum still stained on my stomach, marking me like his. But I decided that even though I loved the feeling, waking up with it crusty would be less pleasant. He stood up again, looking for his clothes and I swallowed, feeling my cheeks flush as I cleaned myself before putting away the towel and I asked before I could stop myself, “Can you… stay?” I bit my lip, my jaw clenching. It wasn’t something I ever asked, the moment we had was over and I had only asked it once or twice over the years I’d been working here but he smiled. His eyes squinting again and my heart swelled, thumping hard in my chest. “Of course, for a little while...” he said, pulling on his underwear and dragging the duvet over our bodies as he laid down next to me. I could feel how my body froze, so used to causing pleasure that simple cuddles made it feel awkward. But he laid on his side, placing his right arm under the pillow I rest my head on and the other around my body, intertwining our legs and placed his chin on the crown of my head. I took a sharp breaths of air, my own arm around him and my nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck. The musky smell of sweat and cologne filled my senses and I allowed myself to relax in his arms, welcoming a deep sleep.

……….

I woke up when the sun peeked from underneath my blinders the next morning, my bed cold and I shuddered, pulling the duvet closer around me. I was alone and I bit down on my lip when I felt empty sadness fill my heart and poison my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I forced myself up, placing my feet on the sun-heated floor. A letter was placed on the table next to my bed and I frowned, picking it up. My heart picked up in speed as a stack of 20 ‘50000’ banknotes fell into my lap. A gasp escaped my lips at the sight of the money and my heart raced as I read the note,

We’ll meet again, Jagi

[pussymagicuniverse]

Ribs

Let us laugh, ugly laughter, from the pits of our bellies, from the bottom of our soles, pushing into the veins of our eyelids. The same bodies that we rued since the day we met them––let us meet them once more. Greet them with kindness and refuse the estrangement that creeps into the periphery. Let us be still again, lucid. We shall no longer think of ourselves as floating heads, seeping vulvas, hard breasts, black gums, crooked, and harsh teeth. We will no longer have the desire to compare our round and dark selves to the moon or to the sun or to the stars. We shall drink from the final and sweet waters.

Let us mend ourselves, weft by weft, refusing the distance between Ourselves and the Other. Tenderness and softness, subjugation and servitude, beauty and frailty; these things are not needed where we are going.

9

A gaggle of self-important nine year olds stuck in the confines of Gifted English went through their weekly list of vocabulary. In the sticky Georgia heat, they listed off words and their definitions, one by one, the syllables bumping against each other across uneven teeth. The lazy recitation waned into the white clock face, waiting until the sweet, sweet hour of freedom. 3:30. Thirty more minutes until the words were soon, and rightfully, forgotten. The air was alight with the giddy, yellow excitement of these final school weeks. The memory of the school year was already faint, fleeting.

As testament to my selective memory and emotional hoarding, I do not remember a single word from that list except for one. Zaftig. It’s a word of Yiddish origin, meaning “a woman who is full-figured.” Or more specifically, as my jaded fourth-grade English teacher phrased it, “pleasantly plump.” Zaftig. Pleasantly plump. It makes sense that I would hold onto such a word, even after the steady passage of time and maturity. As I sat in that classroom, buried in my threadbare, oversized, maroon sweatshirt shaped to hide the nascent form of a fat kid’s prepubescent and uncertain body, I imagined the kind of woman who would call herself zaftig. She would be a happy woman, probably a good and prolific cook (a skill which would serve to make sense of her large existence.) She would have many round and plump babies who would eventually run their way into an athleticism, distance themselves from maternal fatness, but never let their own memories erase the tenderness of her embrace. Zaftig. I imagined her as viscerally entwined with her own culture, chosen as a cornerstone of communal abundance, the only symbolic element of fat womanhood that dripped with nobility, purpose.

I was, of course, not this woman. I sported maroon, high fantasy-chic, thin-rail glasses to match the lumpy sweater. The weekly cycle of jeans began and ended with a scratchy pair of bootcut, black pants that I rolled into an unassuming, and deeply unflattering capri. I wore converse that I intentionally scuffed and dirtied on the pavement because they never looked cool when they were pristine and new. I made myself feel sufficient in my clothing. Was it pretty? No. But it did not have to be. I was a smart kid. I couldn’t do math, but I could read, I could feel. Novels made me cry and my friends made me laugh and my teachers always seemed to like me enough. I was sufficient.

I did not realize the apologies that I stuffed into the folds of my sweater. The tender and shameful sorries that I hid under layers of cotton and polyester. The embarrassment when anyone would look too long at my frame. How dare I force them to see the ways I shove myself in the tube of my own skin, a fat sausage girl with buck teeth and round fingers. With each tug at the bottom of my shirt to make sure no one saw the dip of my belly, with each long sleeve that covered the tapestry of new stretch marks, I whispered sorry. Sorry you have to experience me Sorry you have to see me Sorry.

I carried these apologies in my hands, in my face, in my voice for years. I channeled the unfortunate circumstance of my heaviness into my attitude. Pleasantly plump. Pleasant. Smile comfortingly when they look at you so they know where to cut first. Speak clearly, confidently, smartly. I learned quickly to laugh with other women and girls when talked about their community-organized starving sessions, speaking of their own bodies as inconveniences. I learned to talk about the fat on my bones like a glue-like phlegm that “just wouldn’t budge.” I did not know how else to speak of myself. The woman in my memory, zaftig, was a caricature. She was not real, nor would she understand the ways I dreamt of pulling my stomach and cutting into it deeply, cutting it away from myself.

18

I remember the first time I laid against a partner; the room dark to hide the rolling plain of our bodies. He dipped his fingertips in the curve of the space where my thigh met my hip. “I like this,” he whispered. This meaning how it all melted into each other, this meaning the places on my body where hands and lips could find purchase. My heart hitched in my throat. As we drifted to sleep, the phantom pressure of his hand pressed deep into my skin, I planned how I would leave his house as soon as dawn struck.

I would, of course, call him again. Open myself again. Being desired is an addictive and ugly thing. But to be treated tenderly, with hands that know the weight of your thighs, eyes that do not look away when you wear your love for them so openly across the roundness of your face. To know that, to feel that, is to feel the realness of your heart, the warmth of your very living body. I hate that men can give this to me, even when they are unworthy, even when they are cruel. I hate that I cannot give this to myself.

19

I’ve caught myself as a woman obsessed. Obsessed with the running of my fingers across the jagged lines spread flat against my belly. My ribs can only be felt when you gently, persistently, press into the soft, malleable skin, the brownness of several generations pooling at the bottom of my spine. Seeping with the rich history of this body. I feel the metal of the button on my old jeans bite deeply into the fat above my belly button. Stare at the denim stitching stretch against the expanse of my legs. This body is unrepentant, straining, aware.

We eat these reflective parts of ourselves. The cold seeping and puncturing our lungs; we delve deep into the pain of being wanted. Loved as they told us to be loved. But if we release, refuse the bite and the cut of the knife, who are we? What are we then but the gnawing husk of our mother’s, our grandmother’s failures?

We know that, inevitably, we will fail. We will bargain our happiness and our lives on the whims of men who will never, not ever, love us. We will eat at the tables we set despite our tears blinding us, thickened with maize flour and salt. We will raise children, girl children, who we will integrate into the cult of self-immolation. And as she burns, falls into the rot and dysfunction and isolation of womanhood, we ask ourselves again and again.

When did we begin to want the things we do? Who gave us this knowledge, seal broken and soft insides scooped out, consumed? We bleed, hot and red, across the pavement.

How cruel it is to sell this to us as freedom, as liberation. How cruel it is to see our bent forms, emaciated chest cavities gaping open, and dig into us with that horrific avarice. How cruel it is to refuse threading of the needle, the suturing of the wound.

When did we begin want this? When did we begin want this at all?

20

I struggle to believe that this belongs to me. I drink most nights and wish I were free. Lipstick on the back of my hand running bloody like an open sore. I am beautiful when I say no.

22

We are stunted and painfully awkward. I try to hide the relief when you reach for the light switch, flooding the room with a comfortable blackness. And perhaps it is the headiness of mint liquor from the punk show, or the beat of Kreuzberg, but in the soft recess of your small corner room, in the furrows of a gray and blue apartment complex, I swear that you're the most beautiful person I have ever seen. 

My eyes adjust to the darkness, and the glow of the streets below illuminate the curvature of skin. You've put yellow marigolds in a tin can and placed them by the window. We are dense with wanting.

Chromatic and warm lights behind the eyes. It matters very little what I do when I am pressed against you like this. And when you rest the rough-hewn hands of a person who works too often against my frame, when you breathe heavy and vulnerable, I am alight. Is it because you are, if only for a moment, weak? This is why women have lived like this for generations––waiting for the brief and tender second when she loves with her throat exposed, mouth agape and ready for gutting.

It's over as quickly as we come down, the fresh magic dissolved into the heat of the night. It should feel shameful, but the sheen of sweat reminds me to stretch into my skin a bit more. There should be that eternal burden of the girl, the bleeding of a lived-in body. But it is not there; instead, we share the most gentle laughter that we have had in months. I am embracing the unknown hollow of this feeling, and remind myself that we both hold this. 

A consciousness lazily but persistently rounding the edged glass of a death, a release––recuperating in the spaces where we are no longer categorical, no longer fragmented. Where the necessary condition for our justification is not the deftness of our performance. Body neutralized into the heat of a natural and bearable light.

•

The streetlight streaks white-yellow into the room. I can smell the hot oil of the french fries in the ​Döner shop across the way. I count the number of times your leg grazes mine as you fall into welcomed sleep. I relearn the art of holding. The various ways of grasping something that is not my own. Lightly so as to not possess, but steadily so as to heal, to understand.

I know it is not freedom that I see when you look at me, but for once, I am laid flat against a semblance of humanity. I am not sucked in, pressed back, holding pose, holding gut, stretching out neck, and wondering if it is enough. I am not outside of my body, pinching and pressing and figuring out the ways I can make you want to look at me. You want to look at me. And I want to look at you. In this way we witness each other. I am lucid, waiting, awake. I understand the weight of each breath I take.

In a few hours, we drink coffee and try not to smile at each other in that coy way that asks for more information, more knowledge of the other. You ask if I need directions to the train, and I say I do not, but thank you. Your eyes no longer contain that once-familiar alacrity, and the silence is still with the thoughts of the night previous. We are no longer disjointed by the alcohol, almost too aware of one another to find comfort. And yet, I find myself hesitating to leave. The thought of it runs over and over in my mind, crackled 35mm film of heat and tongue and laughter, as I board the train to Alexanderplatz. As I step from the train and onto the platform, up the gum-and-paper splattered steps into the solid and sure pulse of the morning, I am aware of how I trust myself.

A body is a strange and wrought place to feel like an imposter, but I slowly unfurl, and allow myself to sink into the sureness of my existence.

Milka Kiriaku is a queer black writer, educator, and emulsion extraordinaire. Ever the personal welfare-idealogue, they rely religiously on strong community, great books, terrible movies, and hylauronic acid.

[canaryatlaw]

Alright, it’s currently 8:53 pm Illinois time (we’re still in Indiana so my phone thinks it’s 9:53, it didn’t transition for the whole day until like now apparently and is probably supposed to have changed back by now but here we are), we’re in the car on the way home from the con and I’m starting to write now because I need to go to bed ASAP when I get home because I once again could not fall asleep FOR MY FUCKING LIFE last night and of course I had to get up early so we could road trip to the con so I got like an hour and a half of sleep??? The last time I remember looking at the clock was at 5:08 am and my alarm was set for 6:45 am, so....it wasn’t good. But yeah, today was really good despite my lack of sleep. I did wake up when my alarm went off at 6:45 am, I had a message from Jess saying to give her like 10-15 more minutes than we initially planned so I got ready and waited for her to come pick me up. We got gas and then McDonald’s, breakfast sandwich and coke if I wanted to stay awake all day lol. And so we were off to Indiana for the con. The drive there was fairly unremarkable, we stopped at a rest stop for a minute but that was about it. We made it into Indianapolis around like 11:30 their time, parked in the parking garage next to the con center and got to the con. Our drive through Indianapolis revealed that today was definitely their pride parade and with a little more research we probably could’ve done the parade and the con, but oh well, not much we can do about it now. According to the online schedule the photo op for the guy Jess had a photo with was at like 1:20, so when we arrived we had to wander through the giant con center at first and then redeem our tickets and actually get to the main hall, where we located the photo op people and asked about the schedule.

It’s a good thing we checked, because he was not in fact at 1:20 anymore, he had gotten to what was first 4:45 and would then move to 5:45 in not too long. So obviously this was a bit of a curveball, since according to the earlier schedule we probably would’ve headed out a lot earlier. So now we have some time to kill. Well we wanted to see the guests anyway, and the first I wanted to see was the kid from Shazam, Asher Angel, mostly because I wanted to go on about how much positive depiction of foster children in media means to the kids out there that are constantly thought of as a problem and nothing more. He was sweet, definitely a teenage boy lol you could tell it was one of his first cons, but he was doing alright and was nice to talk to. He definitely looked bored at other points throughout the day which I can’t really blame him for, he is a teenage boy and the amount of attention the celebrities were getting at this con was definitely less than expected. Like, there were pretty much no lines for everybody....the entire con was a lot smaller than expected. So that was interesting to deal with. After that though we went and said hi to the guy Jess wanted to see from Shield and she got a selfie with him, he was really nice too. At that point we wandered the show floor for a while, Jess unsurprisingly found some kpop merch (it’s generally among the anime booths at this point) so she bought some of that which was cool. We ended up leaving the con center to get some food because con food is always trash and overpriced, and we didn’t have anything else better to do lol.

So we ended up going to steak and shake, which was a giant joke because the last time we went to a con in Indiana we got into a fight that kind of climaxed in us ending up going to steak and shake for dinner despite my request that we go literally anywhere else because my acid reflux was really bad that day, but that’s a whole other story we won’t go into, just know the fact that we ended up there was a giant fucking joke. I got a cheeseburger and a strawberry shake, and we killed some time there for a while before finishing up and walking back to the con. We returned to the main hall and ended up saying hi to John Wesley Shipp, this con was like prime for just getting to say hi to celebs because so many of them were standing around lol. He was cool, we got back to the Shield guy to get an autograph for Emily, and right next to him was Dot-Marie Jones, and I recalled that she had been at Clexacon and afterwards her wife had posted about how awful the con had been to them on Instagram and she was free so I was like if we approach this correctly we could get some quality tea about Clexacon out of this interaction lol. She had stickers that they were selling for $5, so we bought a sticker (they ended up giving us two) and were like “oh we just wanted to say hi, we wanted to see you at Clexacon but we heard it wasn’t great for you guys?” and that basically worked perfectly and launched a like, 20 minute conversation that consisted of all the terrible shit Clexacon had done to them and like, it was bad. The biggest revelation was definitely that the con wasn’t paying any of the celebrities to be there (I realize a lot of people aren’t privy to how the financial arrangements for cons work so that might not seem like a big deal but it is HIGHLY unusual and I couldn’t believe they got that many guests without paying any of them) and on top of that wanted a cut of their autograph money and shit which is just.....wild. It was a really good conversation though, not just about Clexacon but on how the voices of actual queer women should be the ones being centered, not just straight actresses that portray them but don’t live the stories (and we all know I adore my actresses, but it’s not the same) and like Clexacon had just been so shitty to her when she was one of the only actual queer women there and they could’ve had so much more but they were clearly only motivated by greed. She’s a super lovely person too and it was just overall a great conversation and it was really a pleasure to talk to her.

After that, or some time around then, the timeline might not be perfect here but I’m doing my best lol. We basically had nothing to do but I wanted some water so we walked over to their food court area and got some water bottles with the intention of just sitting at the table there for a while, which we did, but they ended up doing some like, pre-podcast launch media session with these three ladies who are launching a cold case podcast about this case from Indiana where this little girl was killed and I mean I only listened to their info about the case but I’m pretty fucking sure the abusive stepfather’s the one who did it (let’s be real, if the kid of an abusive parent dies, there is an extremely high chance the parent did it, and that chance actually goes up further by the fact that he was a stepparent, this is the reality of child abuse that I work with) so idk how much of a cold case there is to investigate there but Jess found them on twitter and they currently had like 18 followers lol so I mean maybe they’ll find their stride and build up a fan base. After their presentation and a little while of more time chilling out we ended up going back to the con area and seeing John Glover, whom we paid $20 to get a selfie with, he was again so delightfully bizarre and just absolutely hilarious to interact with and talk about Shazam with. So that was cool, and after that we chilled outside the main hall for a bit until Jess decided it was time to line up for the photo op, at which point I wandered for a bit and eventually ended up at Vanessa Marshall’s table who I kinda wanted to meet, she’s a voice actress who’s been in a ton of stuff but most relevant to me was that she did Black Canary for Young Justice and recently did an interview with the young justice podcast I listen to that was just fucking amazing about self-acceptance and that really just made me want to meet her so I paid $20 for a selfie with her and ended up having a lovely conversation with her.

After that I wandered a bit more and ended up buying a $5 “damaged” piece of Wonder Woman fan art (it was in the damaged pile but I couldn’t see anything wrong with it and it was a damn good deal) and ended up buying an adorable print of Goose the cat that was $10 and is going to go great on my Captain Marvel closet door. After that I reunited with Jess after her photo op and waited a little while longer waiting for the print while talking with a nice couple we’d previously spoken to at a con at some point lol. Once we got the photo we headed out, left Indianapolis and headed straight to the Cracker Barrel we’ve definitely been to before lol. There was a little bit of a wait but we got in in like ten minutes or so. Got our classics but they sadly we slightly less quality than we’ve previously had, but still mostly good. After dinner I raided their candy section very lightly and Jess acquired a giant stuffed goat I said I’d buy her so we paid the bill and bought that and headed out.

From there we’ve been driving, stopped once to go to the bathroom in the rain, but it mostly stopped raining so we didn’t have to deal with too much of it. The highlight of the drive home was definitely realizing Jess’ nemesis who was at the con was actually in the car behind us, and we proceeded to cut her off like three different times and it was great, I’m pretty sure she was still behind us when I started writing this and she was behind us until we hit the greater Chicago area but now we’re pulling up to our neighborhood that’s having it’s massive Nordic fest right now (“midsommarfest”) which looks pretty wild right now, but I’ll be home in a second and probably finish this off right before I go to bed, after I shower. My phone now said it’s 10:47 pm, though it should say it’s 9:47 pm Chicago time, so we’ll have to see for how much longer we’ll have to deal with that. But I’m about to get out of the car so I’ll leave this here.

Okay, it’s 10:54 pm currently, though my phone still says 11:54 pm lol. But I’m all showered and ready to go to sleep, and boy am I sleepy, so I’ll be going to bed now. Goodnight my friends. Hope you had a lovely Saturday as well.

[333kaylynn]

27 Roses / e.d.

Y/n goes to a mental hospital and Ethan visits her every day until he stops for 27 days. “27 roses for every day I missed.”

Request: nahhh fam

Word Count: 2609

uhhh i apologize for continously going from 1st and 2nd person point of view. 

I’m tagging a few people, sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged!

@bouttogolinkurbitch

@dimply-dolan

@dolayn

@grayson-dolans-dangly-earring

@kara-dolan

@nomoregraydays

@bb-dolan

@olivia-m-dolan

@olderdolan

@justanotherdolanblog

@profanitydolan

okay im done tagging, please enjoy this bc its not the best but i meannnn

///

Day One was possibly the worst. I didn’t know anyone, nor did anyone know me. I didn’t want to sit through this stupid therapy session we had to do, but of course, I was forced. They allowed me to bring someone for the first group therapy, so I wasn’t uncomfortable. Ethan stayed with me throughout the whole thing. 

Everyone in my part of the hospital was between the ages 13-17. One girl was there for trying to commit suicide, I found out her name was Amber, and she’s 14. Elisia, 16, had gone for anger management issues. Tyler, same age as me, was there for drug use. 

To be honest, I didn’t think I belonged here. I mean, in the back of my mind, I knew knew I did, but I just felt out of the loop at the moment. Everyone already knew eachother, and I just got there. 

Ethan had to leave after therapy, and it hurt me to see him go. “I promise I’ll visit you everyday. Only 365 days.” Ethan assured you you would be okay. 

“I’m gonna miss you E.” I say, pulling him in for a hug and a kiss. 

“Okay, visiting hours are over. All friends and family must leave.” The announcement went through the speakers, and I walked Ethan to the door. 

Day Two was slightly better, I started talking to a few people, Olivia, Tyler, and Faith. Olivia and Tyler were both 17, and Faith was 16. 

Tyler had been in here for about a year before this, Olivia about 7 months, and Faith for only about 2 months before I had come. 

All we really did today was sit around and get to know eachother. We played random card games, ate, and just sat around mainly. 

Ethan came and visited again, during visiting hours. Just like he said he would.  It brought joy to my eyes too see him. 

3 to 5 o clock, every day. Those were visiting hours. 3 pm to 5 pm. 

“Hey babe. I’m here, just like I said I would be.” Ethan came through the glass doors that led to the main room of the facility. He stood in the same spot for a minute and looked around until he saw you at a table with Tyler, Faith, and Olivia. 

You stood up from the table and pulled him in for a hug. You ran your small, yet nimble fingers through his ruffled up hair, probably caused by Grayson. 

“How’s your mom doing?” You ask, pushing him off of you but still holding onto him. Ethan laughed and looked at you, answering softly, “You just saw her yesterday, y/n. Right before we came here.”

“I know, E. But hey, I have to ask how my second mom is doing. You know I do.” 

Your fingers went up and through his hair again. He smiled again and said, “I know, I know. She’s doing great. She said she might visit you on Sunday, because that’s her only day off from work. My dad might come too, and Cameron.” 

You smiled and thought of the entire Dolan family seeing you here, which brought your face to a frown. 

You didn’t want to seem weak around them. You knew they already knew you were here, but they didn’t see you here yet. It was scary, the thought of them seeing you like this. 

Maybe they’d think you weren’t good enough for Ethan. They’d make Ethan stop seeing you. You couldn’t stand the thought of that. You shook your head and looked back up at Ethan. 

He could tell something was off about you for that minute. Your troubled past caused you to space out from time to time, and it probably wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. 

“You okay?” Ethan asks, resting his hand on your shoulder and rubbing it for a minute before bringing it back down. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.” You say, smiling at him and sitting back down at the table, “These are my new friends. Ethan, Tyler. Tyler, Ethan. Olivia, Ethan. Ethan, Olivia. Faith, Ethan. Ethan, Faith.” 

You took your time introducing everyone and after your introduction, Ethan immediately went into a conversation, like the social butterfly he is. 

Tyler and Ethan had a pretty intense conversation about Tyler’s life. Ethan wanted to know more about why people choose to do drugs. In his mind, there are so many things you can do to make yourself happy besides drugs. But in Tyler’s, it’s the only thing that made him happy. 

You, Faith, and Olivia were doing an even intenser range of things. Playing a game of Skip-Bo. It happened to be your favorite game since you were about 7, your grandma being the one to start your love for the game. 

Now, at the age of 17, your love still hasn’t stopped. 

“Hey, babe, I only have 30 minutes left.” Ethan says, scooting closer to your and whispering the words in your ear as you lie down a number 2 card. 

“Do you and Tyler want to join our game?” You ask, already starting to hand the two of the boys' cards. 

Day 29. It’s almost been your first month since you’ve started here. Ethan still came every day, just as he promised. 

It was now 8 pm, meaning you had 2 hours before lights out. Everyone from ages 13-15 were required to go to sleep by nine, and everyone ages 16 and 17 were allowed to stay awake until 10 if they wanted to. 

Every Thursday they put on “movie night” where the kids got to vote on a movie and watch it together with popcorn and blankets. The movie had to be Pg 13, due to the fact some of the kids could get triggered by certain things showed on R rated movies. 

You couldn't begin to imagine the things that could cause an outburst in this place. In the past 24 hours, we've had three emotional outbursts.

"Michael, sweetie. Calm down." Mrs. DeGram said as Ms. Weiss held him down due to his frustration.

Michael's mom hadn't shown up to visiting hours, but Michael was determined she'd show up.

"No! My mom will be here, she's just running late!" Michael screamed, pushing away from Ms. Weiss. Ms. Weiss got ahold of him again and held him down gently in order to calm him down.

"Michael, you need some food and some rest. Come with me." Mrs. DeGram says, holding Michael's hand as she pulls him down the small hallway that led to the dining area, where a few of the kids were seated.

Michael's mom came today, she sat and explained to him that his younger sister, Gabriella, was feeling sick last night so they brought her to see a doctor.

Faith also had a panic attack. Her father, whom she hadn't seen in ages, decided last night would be the perfect time to see her.

Faith had to be pulled away from the tall brown headed man that sat ahead of her after she screamed and clawed at him as she called him a "dirty cheating bastard"

Olivia held her closely as she shook from under her arm, whispering things to her to calm her down as her father was kicked off of the premises.

Gabe, the newest member of the facility, was having major drug withdrawals. Him and Tyler began talking about what made them start doing drugs, which seemed to have calmed Gabe down a bit.

Gabe and Tyler began laughing about their first time trying ecstasy, as me, Olivia, and Faith were playing yet another game of skip-bo.

Day 121, about 4 months in. Ethan still came to visit everyday. Seeing his tall body walk through the big glass doors, opening his arms for the hug you greeted him with every day. 

“Y/n, baby. I’ve missed you.” Ethan states as he pulls you back in for a hug, his grip beginning to get tighter. 

“Dude, I was actually just so happy when I did it. I just wanted to do everything I’ve ever wanted right then and there.” Tyler began telling Gabe, the two of them still talking about ecstasy. 

“Are they talking about drugs?” Ethan says, looking at the two of them and back at you. 

You smiled at him and gripped onto his arms, nodding your head, “Yeah, ecstasy I think.” 

Ethan just nods and the two of you take a seat, joining in on the conversation Faith and Olivia were having. Faith was laughing at some joke Ethan had made, while you and Olivia were talking more about family life and other random things. 

Olivia’s mom passed from cancer a few years back, that’s what initially started her depression. Her dad took a tough road when it happened as well, but the two of them stuck together through it all. He visits her every Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday. The other days he has to work late. 

You turned to Ethan and laughed at some joke he made once again, causing him to grin and pull you in for another hug. You continued to laugh as you thought more about it. The joke wasn’t that funny, it was just some dad joke he probably saw on a popsicle stick before coming here. 

The next hour went by pretty quick, meaning Ethan would have to leave in the next few minutes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” You ask, hugging Ethan again and kissing him before he had to go. 

“Of course you will y/n. I wouldn’t forget.” Ethan says, holding you closely as your head rested on his shoulder. 

The next few months were basically the same, a few of the kids getting out and a few being transferred to the adult facility due to birthdays and being officially 18. 

It was now March 17th. Meaning I had about 3 more months before I was officially out of this place. They told me I would have to stay in the adult facility for a few days because I joined only 5 days after my 17th birthday, so I would turn 18 before they could legally let me out. 

Eventually, 3 o clock rolled around. I sat at the normal table I did while I waited for Ethan to show up. 

4 pm and he still wasn’t here. Maybe he had something come up. You didn’t want to worry too much, but in the back of your head you were extremely scared. 

“y/n, sweetie. He’ll be here tomorrow, just ignore it okay? I’m sure everything is fine.” Olivia said, pulling me in for a hug. Faith joined in soon after, which eventually led to a group hug with Me, Olivia, Faith, Gabe, and Tyler. The four of them all knew how much Ethan meant to me and how worried I was when he hadn’t shown up for today's visit. 

Soon enough, the next day rolled around. 

Ethan wasn’t here for this visiting either. My mind seemed to be a jumbled up mess at the time, my anxiety kicking in. 

Ethan had to show up, I know he did. He wouldn’t be late unless something bad happened. It wasn’t like him to do that. 

The next 2 weeks went by slowly, each day getting more painful. Ethan still hadn’t been there. You did everything in your power to ignore it but as the days went on you seemed to have just gotten more worried and more hurt. 

27 days later. Ethan hadn’t been there. You went over to the nurses office, where you asked Ms. Weiss if you could talk to her for a minute. 

“Of course y/n. What do you need dear?” Ms. Weiss said, allowing you to come into her office. You smile at her politeness and take a seat before asking, “Can you take Ethan Dolan’s name off of the visiting list?” 

She simply gives you a “is everything alright” look and then nods before going onto her computer to delete his name from the visiting list. “Would you like to continue receiving letters from him?” 

You nod and say that it’s okay if she kept that, maybe he would be able to explain himself. 

As you leave Ms. Weiss room, Faith runs up to you and pulls you over to where Olivia and Tyler were sitting, Tyler yelling at Olivia for an unknown reason. 

“Faith, what’s going on?” You ask, whisper-yelling into her ear. She shrugs and responds with, “I think something Olivia said upset Tyler. I don’t know what! Please help.” 

You nod at Faith and pull her in for a hug before telling her to go get one of the nurses to separate the two. 

The nurse comes back and pulls the two away from eachother and brings Tyler over to another area where Gabe was seated. You and Olivia talked about what happened and Faith sat in silence for the rest of the day, probably shaken up by two of her closest friends here getting into such a big fight. 

A fight between them wasn’t a very common thing, most of the time everything was nice and dandy. 

1 week later. Ethan had tried to show up his 28th day, you saw him. But the nurse waved him off and after a bit of arguing, he left. 

“y/n. These are for you.” Mrs. DeGram says, handing you a basket filled with roses. You look at it for a minute, confused as to who would send you so many roses. You turn it and see an envelope, which eases your confusion for a minute. 

Y/n, the envelope said very large across the top. It was clearly Ethan’s handwriting. You ripped the envelope open and started reading. 

“Y/n. I just want to begin and say how sorry I am. I skipped the past 27 days because I needed time to think. It hurt me to see you like this and I kept on my tough guy face for you. But I couldn’t do it anymore and I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want you to worry. And I know you’re angry with me. But please, please put my name back on the list so I can talk to you. I miss you.  -E”

You were still a bit angry, but you couldn’t be mad at him for too long. You walked to Ms. Weiss’ office and asked her to put Ethan’s name back on the list. She nodded and smiled as you left the room to go back to talking to Olivia and Faith. 

Soon enough, the next day rolled around. Ethan came, right at 3 o clock. He lightly smiled at you as he walked towards you, giving you a hug. 

You weeped in his arms. You didn’t expect to be sad when you saw him. You thought you’d be angry. But it wasn’t the case. You hadn’t realized how much you really missed him til now. 

Ethan began to explain himself, and if I’m being honest, it took a lot of time and tears before he could fully get it out. 

“Ethan. Why so many roses? I mean, you could’ve just gotten me one and it would have been okay.” You ask, looking at the plentiful amount of roses that were still seated at the table they had been when you got them. 

“27 roses for every day I missed.” Ethan says, hugging you again and kissing your forehead. You smiled and pulled away. 

“I love you, doofus.” 

Ethan grinned and laughed, “I love you too, y/n. And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ll be right with you when you’re outta this place.”

[smokescreen24]

50 DND Questions

1. What do you think your d&d race would be? Proabably human. If I get the choice, I’d like to be either an Elf or Dragonborn. I’d be cool with either of those. 

2. What class? Mostly likely a fighter? I’m not religious enough for a cleric, and not smart enough for a sorcerer or wizard. I like the idea of being able to throw hands. 

3. What two feats would you have? I’d want the Alert feat, and more than likely the Lucky feat. Alert means my initiative gets improved, and Lucky means that I can reroll a bad throw. Those would get used a lot. 

4. What has been your favorite d&d character you've played? (NPCs count for DMs) I’ve only got the two for now, but Liander’s been getting the most love. She’s probably my favorite. 

5. Which of your d&d characters has been the most like you? Oh, Liander, without a doubt. She’s pretty close to my baseline personality.

6. Which of your d&d characters has been the least like you? And that would be Cade. Cade is just this side of Chaotic Evil, so she’s a little harder for me to get into the right headspace for. Playing her takes a lot out of me, to be honest. 

7. How do you go about making a character or NPC? That’s hard to say - I give the session about an hour or so to feel it out, and let the personalities develop naturally over time. My playing style is reactive, so I let the situation dictate how said character would respond. 

8. What is the most memorable natural 20 you've ever experienced? That would be with Cade. I’d rolled to take out a stone giant, suplexed them (because she’s a barbarian and her strength stat is wild), then chopped his dick off with my battleaxe like I was swinging a golf club. It uh, made an impression on the rest of the party, and the rest of the enemies. 

9. Has one of your d&d characters ever died? How? Not yet, so don’t jinx me! I’m still attached to both of them, and would like to keep them around! 

10. What is your favorite class to play? So far, it’s been my ranger. She’s fun, and I’m digging the whole ‘animals as companions’ thing she’s got going. 

11. Have you ever fought a dragon? Yes. Between Cade and Paileous, we cut it’s head off. It’s currently a trophy back at home base. Got a lot of gold for our trouble, too. 

12. Have you ever fought a beholder? NO. Not entirely sure I wanna, either! 

13. Have you ever fought a mind flayer? No, but it’s coming up. My buddy is having us roll new characters for the Underdark campaign. I might try a cleric just for funsies. 

14. Have you ever had a romance with an NPC or another PC? Nope. I am here to tell you that neither of my characters is looking for any of that. Liander’s too busy, and Cade is a halfling barbarian surrounded by equally questionable Drow paladins and rouges. No thanks. 

15. Do you prefer to DM or play?  I have no desire to DM. I’ve only been playing for a little while, and I’m not creative enough to attempt it. I’ll stick to playing. I’m good at that. 

16. What is your favorite D&D pod/vodcast? I’ve been listening to Critical Role - I’m relistening to the Whitestone/Chroma Conclave arcs. I love No Mercy Percy so much. 

17. Who is your favorite "celebrity dm?" I only know the one - Matt Mercer. 

18. Do you use props/minis/terrain in your game? Very rarely. I think we’ve only had like, two sessions that actually had terrain and mini’s. 

19. How did you discover D&D? My friends. I sat in on one of their games, and just for the hell of it, they rolled me a character, and thus Cade was born. 

20. If you run a homebrew game, give an out of context spoiler. I’m not running it, but smuggling is a thing, and the dude we’re smuggling for is someone whose face is on a wanted poster in my pocket. 

21. Drop a picture of a mini you painted (if applicable) Sorry, I don’t have any minis. They’re all with my DM. 

22. Write a brief scene centered around one of your characters! Uh, hang on -  "That was nice. I didn't ask you to get it for me, and I distinctly remember telling you I can get my own. Not my fault you don't listen worth a damn." Liander says with a slight grin. She doesn't know why, but she likes poking at Chancel. Not many folks react the way he does, and the scowl he sends her just makes her grin wider. "Come on. I cannot possibly be the only one who's pointed that out to you." 

 "Yeah, me. Two minutes ago." Zulth mutters into his mug.

23. Do you have any art of your characters? Yeah, one of my more artistic friends drew a sketch of Liander for me, complete with her cat on her shoulder. It’s pretty cool. It’s also huge, which is why I’m not posting it here. 

24. Have you ever played any TTRPGs other than D&D? No, this is my first foray into TTRPGs. 

25. What is your favorite snack for d&d? I reach for Cheetos or Doritos usually. They’re good, crunchy snacks. 

26. If you could have one potion from d&d, which one would you choose? If I could just load up on superior healing potions for life, I’d be a happy woman. 

27. If you could cast one spell from d&d, which would you cast? Fireball. That’s a nice equalizer, I think. 

28. What is the most memorable natural 1 you've experienced? Oh man. That would be with Liander this time. She was trying to sneak into a well fortified part of the city, and tamper with the water supply for one family. Well, I had to roll to hop the fence to do so, rolled a natural one, my foot caught in the fence, and there was a dog right in front of me. Landed on my face, and got bitten for my trouble. Still got the mission done, though. 

29. Have you ever been drunk playing d&d? I’ve been buzzed. Does that count? 

30. Homebrew or prewritten? Both? Both. Both is good. 

31. Tell me about your current party! Which one? Well, for the Alagaesia campaign, there’s my character Liander, a dwarf named Thorin, a rouge(?) named Zulth, an herbalist named Liam, and the man who hired us, an NPC named Bjorn. We’re actually trying to accomplish something with this campaign, or so the DM says. 

For the Guardians of Gravenhollow campaign, I’m a halfling barbarian named Cade, there’s a drow Paladin named Varis, and another Drow rouge named Paileous. This particular campaign is just chaotic evil fuckery. 

32. Most memorable NPC you've encountered in a game you played in. Victor. He built a clock, I wanted his tinkering kit, and wound up buying both at a just criminally low price. I kinda feel like I ripped him off, tbh. 

33. Do you listen to music while playing? What kinds? Mostly the Skyrim soundtrack with a little Witcher soundtrack thrown in for funsies. Atmospheric stuff. 

34. Favorite accent to do for characters? I don’t really have one for either of my characters. Mostly because I’m bad at keeping it up. I forget. 

35. Favorite classic d&d trope Tragic Backstory(TM). Only one of my characters has it, but it’s damn fun to role-play.

36. What was your first d&d character you made? That would be Cade! She started out as kind of a throw-away, but she got mixed in with Paileous and Varis and she’s living her best chaotic life. 

37. What is the most recent PC or NPC you've created? That’d be Kahtri, actually! I haven’t played her a whole bunch, so I’m not really familiar with her yet, but it’ll be interesting to play a Drow cleric who doesn’t actually worship Lolth. (I don’t do spiders.)

38. Goblins or Kobolds? I actually haven’t dealt with either yet. I’m slightly more familiar with Goblins simply because of CritRole. 

39. Favorite villain you've defeated? Uh, I dunno if I’d classify her as a villian exactly, but Cade’s killed an NPC named Creed who was a servant to the god Grotz. Pretty sure he’s out for revenge now. 

40. What d&d deity would you be a cleric of? I am a cleric of the Drow deity Elistraee. (I had to double check the spelling on that) 

41. Give an out of context quote from one of your games! Liander - “I tried to stop him, but he fucking yote me across the room like I wasn’t even there. Is it weird I’m bitter about that?”

Thorin - *emerges from the wreckage of the crate we were smuggling holding dragon eggs* “I FOUND LIVING ROCKS!” 

Liander and Zulth in tandem - *knows exactly what he’s holding* “Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

42. Have you ever rolled turn into a potted plant on the wild magic table? No, I don’t think I know anyone who plays that particular class, so I’ve never seen it happen. 

43. Minis and terrain or theater of the mind? Theater of the mind, good sir/madam. 

44. Mulligan, Mercer, Murphy, or McElroy? Mercer! Mercer! Mercer! 

45. What is the longest session you've ever had? Oh, jeez. Like, fourteen hours, give or take?

46. What is the longest battle you've fought or run? Uh, that’d be the fight with Creed. It took us like two hours to beat her down with three of us. She was stupid powerful. The bounty was great, though. 

47. Have you ever played at level 20? No, my highest level character is a level 11. I’m working on it, though. 

48. Does your dm say "How do you want to do this?" Oh yes. The table just blows up when that happens, not gonna lie. It’s fun to hear, especially if it’s aimed at you. 

49. Have you ever played an edition other than 5th? No, I started playing last year, so 5th is all I know. 

50. Will you try to convince others to play? Already done so. I’ve added a couple people to the group - my husband, whose character is the best straight man to our fuckery, and one of our mutual friends whose lunacy works with our brand of crazy. 

[call-888-8sparky-blog]

growing up

It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon. Your mother has just checked you out of your small, very poverty middle school. You’re sad you have to miss Mr. Mitch’s science class, but you know this is more important. The whole drive there she seems brighter, more optimistic about you. You know if she opens conversation with you her hopes will be crushed, so you don’t speak. It’s the least you can do for her.

You guys park the car behind the orange wooden house and make your way up to the entrance. You see your outline in the screen door behind your mother; you don’t look any better from last time. You certainly don’t feel any better from last time. But you go in anyway and sit on the horribly stitched too low-to-the-ground  vomit-green couch with your sweet tired mother. You always get there ten minutes early with her, but if it eases her worries you let it happen. On good days you’ll sit and talk with her in the car until it’s time, which you think is more effective than the actual professional sessions. But today isn’t a good day. So you sit in silence in the waiting room.

You entertain yourself by looking around the room, seeing if Mrs. Kim got any new kids self-help books that make these things simple to understand. The window shows the big, peaceful trees that block any idea of this place being right by a busy intersection. You wish you were outside with those trees, to just think in peaceful solitude and quiet. It seems like you never have enough time to yourself; to organize your chaotic thoughts. Maybe you can’t organize them at all, who knows?

A girl walks out into the waiting room with her father. It looks like she had been crying. You never cry in your sessions. Are you supposed to? Something terrible probably happened to her. Nothing terrible has ever happened to you. So why are you here? Dad is probably right; you’re making it all up. After all, objectively, you have a great life. Your parents give you everything you need and most things you want. And how do you repay them? By staying in your room all day, quietly crying until you’re so exhausted you pass out- or by immersing yourself into worlds that aren’t real. It’s a matter of will, you’re just too lazy to get up and go out and make yourself happy. You’re a faker.

A couple of minutes go by, and Mrs. Kim walks into the waiting room. Her round face makes a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. She’s wearing that purple sweater that really highlights how much she isn’t wearing a bra. Combined with her crazy white hair, she really looks like a emotional let’s-talk-about-it child therapist. But you’ve never really been a child, have you? Whatever may or may not be wrong with you made you grow up quickly. Not that it really matters now.

Your darling mother kisses your forehead goodbye, and leaves through the front door. Mrs. Kim asks what you would like to do today with her fake smile. You think she doesn’t really know what to do with you, since you don’t think or act like a kid, and you don’t have some dramatic event to talk about. You don’t mind just doing whatever for an hour, but you’d rather do it at home without an old illogical hippie hovering over you the whole time, or having to make your mother take off work an hour early to pay $20 for you to essentially pet a cat and feel better for about 30 minutes afterward. Speaking of the cat, where is Marvin? As soon as the thought had formed in your head, you see his long orange coat slowly strutting it’s way down the hall. Cat’s always calm you, though Marvin doesn’t come close to Kitty. Kitty’s fully black, so he makes you feel unique and edgy like Emily the Strange. You quietly make your way to the main room; you don’t particularly want to play with toys in the toy room or actually talk in the overly blue, calming, all around trying-too-hard therapy room. So you opt for the couch in the bright orange main room, sitting across from a big wooden where you can draw if you wish. You like drawing, but there’s always ways you can make your work better and it’s never good enough. So you try to redraw parts of you work and it ends up worse than before and you ask yourself “Why is it never good enough? This is your fault? Why can’t you make it better? Why can’t you just be satisfied?” any you cry and tear it up or burn it and then cry harder because you’re still kind of hopeful you can make it better and you spent so much time on it and you want to be proud of it but something is stopping you.

In fact, you feel this way about everything you do or try to do (including what you’re writing right now). You won’t be drawing today.

Mrs. Kim asks what happened to your face. You tell her what you told your mother; that you don’t know. You kept your explanation vague in hopes it would help you out somehow. You were never a good liar. But, to be fair you never liked your face anyway.

But you messed up. You had rolled up your sleeves while walking to the main room. She asks again about the particularly nasty number you scratched onto the back of your forearm. You feel Marvin leap up onto you start kneading your fat, disgusting thighs. God, you can’t even self-harm correctly. You’re so fucking pathetic. There’s no way you can lie your way out of this one.

So Mrs. Kim tells your mother and your mother quits taking you to Mrs. Kim since it clearly isn’t helping, and I guess your mother wants to feel like she can control whatever problem you have, so she just takes you out of therapy and hovers even more so all your precious alone time to cry is taken away except for when you take showers, and because of the accumulation of emotions showers were usually a new circle of hell and left you more broken and lethargic than before.

I guess our mother decided that she was satisfied with her job of fixing you, or at least making sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself (or maybe you just got good at lying?), so your dear loving parents took a weekend to do who-remembers-what; it doesn’t matter. You sit in front a screen until your brain is mush, and suddenly the whole house had turned dark. It was bright when they left. Time doesn’t really matter for you since every second you spend here is essentially going to waste. You find you fathers beside clock. Christ, it’s 1:03 am. Your house is so quiet. You lay on your parents perfectly made bed and stare at the ceiling. Your mind is too exhausted and numb to form any thoughts you can grasp onto except one. You know the one. It’s always in the back, but never in the center of your mind like it is now and never sounded quite so appealing, and, quite frankly, like the most logical thing to do. You’ve thought about this before, and sleeping pills always seemed like the best way to go; to just slow down until everything stops and you’re ‘asleep’. So you walk in a trance to your parents medicine cabinet. They aren’t there, so you look in your medicine cabinet and the house in general. Also no luck. You feel yourself becoming illogically frustrated, like a child who didn’t get a toy that he wanted on a trip to the supermarket. You throw everything out of the medicine cabinet and bathroom, and sink to the cold linoleum floor in tears.

But you (I, we) comfort you, and tell you you’re strong. It might be harder, and hurt more, you can still do it. It’s the least you can do for everyone; mom, dad, Cait. So you go through the mental list of alternate options you made in your head. You decide to be selfish and burdensome one last time. You’d like to die in your parents room; it’s less scary that way. As for the method, well, you’re a coward are okay with leaving a mess in exchange for a quick death. You take your daddy’s pistol out from his bedside table; and unholster, cock, turn off the safety, and aim. I guess the “you” in there used the last of their strength to fight back and sudden moment of clarity hits you - this won’t help anyone. But of course the thought still won’t go away. So a silent blitzkrieg goes on in your head and you cry because you don’t know who to listen to. You want to listen to yourself, you so very desperately want to believe your friends will miss you and your family won’t be the same and the world will be a darker place without you and that someone, anyone wants you and needs you and can help you. But these thoughts are still there, and they won’t just let you go and be happy, and you can’t force them out or bargain with them (yourself). So you sit on the itchy carpet and cry hysterically with a gun in your hand until your body and mind are too exhausted to keep going. What was once a battlefield in your head had died down to silent glares. But you’re still being coaxed into doing it, and it’s been two hours of this struggle you can’t take it. As a last ditch effort, you try to text some free therapist on the internet (you hate making calls and hearing your own voice or making a big deal of it and calling attention to yourself). They tell you that they can’t help you since you’re under 18, and you cry more. You don’t want to die, you truly don’t. You’re laying on the carpet now, staring at the gun in your hands, right by your head. Its 3:21 am now. Why can’t you just do this one last thing? This is the nicest thing you can do for the people you say you love, but you’re too weak a selfish to do even this. You’ll only make everyone hate you more by staying, you spoiled ungrateful bitch, so why haven’t you done it already?

Your phone dings. A friend, Nate, has sent you a link to a song. He usually stays up late and trades music with you. He’s part of what you consider your close group of friends (even though they all secretly hate you), and you even kinda have a crush on him (not that anyone could really love or even want you though).

His text surprises you, so much so that the internal struggle pauses for a moment to look at what’s happening in the real world. In this small moment of clarity, you ask him if you can call and that it’s an emergency. You do this quickly in hopes that you (I) would still be too shocked to notice what you were doing, but that was a pretty stupid strategy since I am you, and can see everything you do and think. Just make it till he responds.

He doesn’t respond, but instead just calls. You answer, and tell him you want to kill yourself but the gun is too heavy. He cries and asks you to put it back and call your mom. You do, but stay on the line for while until it all calms down. It’s 3:49 am now and you repeatedly call your mother. She picks up after the third call and you tell her what happened. She sobs like Nathan did and says that they’re coming home and to hold on till then. You feel guilty for ruining their vacation and you can feel your father getting irritated and exasperated however-many miles away. Nathan asks you to keep texting him until your parents are back. You do. Both the “you’s” in your head have gone completely silent. You’re relieved; it’s like having two parents fighting into the wee hours of the night in your head and you’ve finally decided to sneak out to go hide in your childhood clubhouse and sleep till morning. You fall asleep on the itchy carpet. The gun is in the cabinet.

You’re awoken by your parents unlocking the front door. Your mother hugs you, and she fixes everything the right way this time. You’re prescribed Zoloft, and there was a new therapist for a while - but you left quickly since there wasn’t anything to talk about. You wounds have healed, you don’t cry, and you’re still reclusive and that concerns your mother, but you think she knows deep down that it’s over, and that you’re okay. 

[faces-in-unexpected-places]

Do You Have the Time? Episode 023: The Deal

Synopsis: Leopold takes a totally non self-destructive break from his stress. Jeremy and Madison demonstrate a vastly different relationship in their recent past.

[April 24th, 2018, 18:13]

           Leopold heaved himself up onto the lab bench and sat right next to the melted surface that Sophia pointed out. The lab was in total and complete disarray. He’d collected many of the large pieces of glass, but the floor was still sparkling with fine shards and glass dust. There were also many jagged pieces still sticking out of the window frame as well. Combined with Sophia’s news, his motivation to keep up a good appearance for Jeremy and Leslie was quickly plummeting. He considered waking IO out of its slumber for help with the cleaning but putting on a face even for a robot felt like a massive undertaking. If he told the others that the glass was taking longer than expected, Leslie would just volunteer herself and Jeremy to help it go faster. And then he would have to tell them what happened while they were gone. If he didn’t, they would notice that something was wrong.

           At least Leslie would.

           He wiggled his phone out of his pocket and reached out to them for an update.

[LEOPOLD_LESLIE_JEREMY_CONVERSATION_START_18:18]

LL: hey there you 2, how’s the search going :)

JB: Good. Leslie’s driving and we’re on our way back. JB: We took the long way.

LL: ok no problem

JB: Leslie is yelling at me to tell you that it was an accident. JB: She didn’t know where the Home Depot was.

LL: but we were just there…?

LG: I was listening to ur sotyr abt Woodstock that isn’t fair!!

LL: i thought she was the one driving?

LG: red light

LL: where r u guys? LL: hello

JB: Aaand now, it’s a green light. JB: The GPS says we’re about 20 minutes away. JB: We actually just passed Leslie’s house a few minutes ago.

LL: i finished the cleaning a little bit ago LL: y don’t u 2 just head home tonite and bring the supplies tomorrow?

JB: Are you sure? It’s only 20 mins.

LL: u guys r already in ur neighborhoods LL: and u 2 have been staying late and coming in early to work alot lately LL: u deserve a break :)

JB: She wants to know what time we’re coming in tomorrow.

LL: just be here at 9am lie everyone else LL: like* everyone else LL: hello?

JB: Sorry, just rerouting. Rush hour.

LL: no worries!

JB: Okay, Leslie’s going to take me back to my house and head home, then. JB: She’s keeping the supplies in her car overnight and will bring them tomorrow morning.

LL: ok sounds good LL: see u guys then! LL: great job today !

JB: Thanks. You too. JB: Leslie says thank you, too. JB: Sorry, she says, “Thank you!! <3”

LL: lol LL: that sounds like her

JB: Have a good night, Leopold. See you soon.

LL: see u !

[LEOPOLD_LESLIE_JEREMY_CONVERSATION_END_18:30]

               Leopold grinned faintly but it was quickly washed away with exhaustion. His face was heavy and expressionless. Tired. He let himself fall off the workbench and landed on his feet. The promise of solitude filled him with a vague relief. He trudged over to the entrance to the lab and locked the doors. Many of the labs nearby had turned their lights off and were left empty for the night. He lugged himself back across the lab and carefully stepped through the sheet of glass dust on the floor of his office until he reached his desk. The lowest side-drawer contained a mess of papers and wires and junk that he should probably have gotten rid of long ago.

               All the way in the back was a plastic bag and some flimsy, palm-sized pieces of paper. A small bag next to it contained a pile of grassy-looking balls. He retrieved the two bags, sat down, and dumped a dirty-green colored bud onto the paper. In his top side-drawer, he pulled out a mortar and pestle. When he ordered materials for his lab decades ago, he “accidentally” ordered an extra mortar and pestle. He ground the bud in the bowl with the pestle, sprinkled the green dust into the paper, rolled it tight, licked it together and lit it up with his handy zippo. With his feet up on the desk he took a long puff of his favorite medication and stretched his limbs out.

           If he was going to be there for a while, he might as well get comfortable, too.

           After today, he needed a break.

[May 13th, 2016, 1:57]

           Madison sat anxiously on the couch of a dark living room, scanning the quiet, suburban neighborhood through the window for cars. She checked her phone again. A message from Jeremy ten minutes ago. It said he’d be here in five minutes. She glanced to the clock for the 3rd time. She wasn’t sure what she expected to be different, as if he would somehow arrive faster. A car slowly emerged from behind the next-door neighbor’s hedges and parked on the street in front of the house. She waited for a few seconds, then the car flashed its headlights three times. It was him! She leapt off the couch, stuffed her bare feet into her shoes and silently slipped through the front door, closing it gently behind her. She jogged down the driveway to meet him on the sidewalk.

           “You made it,” she said.

           “I did. How’s the situation in there?”

           “They’re asleep. Went to bed around eleven or midnight.”

           “Okay. We should be fine, then. Thanks for doing this,” he said.

           “Sure. I wouldn’t deal with them if I didn’t have to, either.”

           He shut his car door as quietly as he could and followed Madison up the driveway. He carried a small, flattened cardboard box under his arm. They entered and both took their shoes off out of habit. He followed behind her through the living room and down the hallway. They tiptoed past their parents’ bedroom and stopped at Jeremy’s old room, across the hall from Madison’s. She led him inside, shut the door and used the light from her phone to see. Jeremy observed and did the same.

           “So, what are you looking for?” she asked.

           “I want my keyboard and all the accessories that go with it, wax warmer and the wax cubes, and some old notes I took for some of my classes. Those can go in the box. I also want to take my bedspread and my old bookshelf. Those, I can fit in the backseat.”

           “Really, the keyboard? Even after mom cracked down on your knuckles every practice session? I haven’t heard you play in forever.”

           “I haven’t, really. But I can still play, and it is still mine, so I’d like to take it back.”

           “Fair enough. Okay, we can do that.”

           Aside from periodically bumping into each other in the dark, the plan worked out without a hitch. First, the box was taken to the car. Then the bedspread, and lastly the bookshelf. They had to be extremely careful to not bump the bookshelf into any walls or fixtures. Luckily, they had the carpeted floors on their side, so setting it down was no problem. Walking without shoes on carpet was essentially silent, as well. After waddling out to his car with the shelf, they set it down on the tree lawn to take a breather.

           “You sure this is okay?” Jeremy asked.

           “A little late to be asking that question, dontcha think, Jay?” she laughed through her breath.

           “Will you be okay tomorrow?” he rephrased.

           “I think so. Probably. Mom still goes in your room all the time, but I’ll just put one of your old bedspreads on the mattress. If she notices, I’ll just tell her that I’m washing the bedspread you took, or something.”

           “What if she asks about it later?”

           “I dunno. Guess I’ll figure that out later. At least I’ll buy some time to keep her off my back in the meantime. Besides, that’s only if she notices. No offense Jay, but all the comforters you’ve ever had have had stripes. They all kinda look the same.”

           He chuckled, sheepishly.

           “Well, just be careful.”

           “I always am,” she shrugged, “So, what’s your plan now? Graduating college and everything?” she asked and took a seat on top of his trunk, “You moving far away from here? I can’t imagine the two-hour drive right now is enough distance.”

           Jeremy hopped up to sit next to her. They both laid back and looked at the few stars still visible in the suburban light pollution.

           “I actually came to talk to you about that,” he said.

           “Hmm. So, out with it, then. Where you headed?”

           “Nowhere,” he replied.

           “Oh, come on, you’ve gotta have somewhere to go.”

           “No, Maddie. I’m staying in Curiesville.”

           “What? Why?” she sat up and cross-examined, “Don’t you want to get the hell out of Crazy Town?”

           “Of course, I do. But I got accepted into a PhD program at CVU in the fall. So, I’m staying there for a while longer.”

           “Wait, you’re going back to school? What the hell, man, why?”

           “Most jobs I can get are entry level right now, and advancement will take a while. And I’ve always wanted to do research,” he shrugged, “A PhD is a surefire way to really contribute to the body of science. To make some real advancements. To make something new and to make the world better, you know?”

           “I guess, man. If it makes you happy, at least.”

           “You’re almost done with high-school, right? Two years left?”

           “If half-way is almost done in your mind, then yeah, sure,” she scoffed.

           “How’s it going so far?” he asked, “I know we haven’t had much time to talk about it since you started.”

           “Honestly, I bitch and complain about a lot of stuff, including school, but it’s actually not so bad. I’m not in any of those fancy-pantsy AP science classes like you were, but they’re still interesting. I’ve written a few articles for the school newspaper, actually,” she smiled, “My journalism teacher runs the newspaper and seems to like having me on the team. It’s a nice way to forget about mom and dad at least.”

           “That’s great. Have you thought about what you want to do afterwards?” he asked.

           Madison laughed and rolled her eyes.

           “You sound like everyone else, now. ‘What are you doing with your life, Maddie?’ ‘Apply to colleges early, Maddie!’ ‘Don’t vape in the girl’s bathroom, Maddie!’” she mocked.

           “Wait, what?”

           “To be honest, I just planned on making a break for it when I turn eighteen.”

           “Where to?”

           “Dunno, don’t care. Across the country maybe. They have Targets and Walmarts in every state, figured I’d just work at one of those,” she said flippantly.

           “You think you’d be happy with that?” Jeremy interviewed.

           “Beats wasting away at forty, living in mom’s spare room, listening her talk about what a disappointment I am.”

           “You don’t want to go to college?”

           “Pfff, fat chance. Nowhere to live, no colleges in mind, and no money to pay for it.”

           “There’s always financial aid. Loans to take out. Scholarships, all kinds of stuff. You just have to know where to look,” Jeremy persisted.

           “Yeah, maybe you could get scholarships, genius. Do I look like someone who could do that?”

    ��      “Maddie, if you have a pulse, you can get scholarships. I applied for one that awarded me $500 for having a GPA above 3.0 and explaining why I thought I deserved the scholarship. It really can be that easy.”

           “I guess so. That’s still just one piece of a way bigger puzzle, though.”

           “Alright, I’ll just get to the point,” Jeremy sighed and sat up, “I get a yearly stipend of $30,000 to live off while I get my PhD. With some careful searching, that can cover basically all our living expenses. Both of us. And it could leave us with a little extra left over if we need it. We can get you financial aid and loans to pay for your classes,” he argued.

           Madison turned to look at him directly. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, ruminating with her internal conflicts.

           “Whoa, whoa, man. You’re… not serious, are you?” she asked.

           “If I was joking, you would be laughing, Maddie,”

           She furrowed her brow and scoffed.

           “Shut up,” Jeremy scoffed back, “Yes, I’m serious. So, what’s your answer?”

           “…It sounds nice, honestly, Jeremy, but… I couldn’t put you out like that. You’re… I mean, God, I hate that I’m going to say this, but you’re brilliant! Crazy smart and hard-working, and shit just comes to you, but it doesn’t work like that for me. I’m not anything special. I don’t even know what I would study…”

           “You’ve got time to figure it out. Just think about it. Or you could work at Target in Curiesville with a familiar face around and build up some savings. Either way… you don’t have to fend for yourself if you don’t want to.”

           “…You’re really okay with that. Sharing a place and supporting the family fuck-up?”

           “You’re not the family fuck-up, mom and dad are.”

           She nodded and grimaced in agreement.

           “Where would we live?” she probed.

           “Probably an apartment. They’re usually cheaper. There’s all kinds of options that we can look at, especially when you get closer to eighteen and have been accepted to the university and/or gotten a job at the Target of your choosing.”

           “…And you really think that I can do college?” she persisted in her skepticism.

           “You don’t have to be perfect. All you have to do is try your best, study, and talk to your professors. Most of them really want you to succeed, too. And I’ll be there to help you along the way if you need it. Seeing as how I just went through four years of college; I could probably answer a lot of questions for you. You would just have to keep me updated on how things are going and ask for help when you need it. If you want to quit and get a job instead, that would be okay, too. Just don’t give up on your classes without withdrawing and dropping out of the next semester. Otherwise, you’ll just build debt from classes you didn’t plan on passing, and that will be harder for us to deal with.”

           “Well… I guess it would be nice to know that I’ve got a place to go once I can leave…” she said to herself, “I’ll think about the college thing. But if you’re totally sure that you’re okay with finding a place together…”

           “I am,” he said firmly.

           Madison slowly let go of her prudent attitude and let her beaming smile shine through. She squealed under her breath and glommed onto Jeremy in excitement. He grinned and returned her hug.

           “Oh, our place would look so great, too! Can you imagine? I can already see it, now! Nice couch, sweet-ass TV for movie and videogame nights with ice-cream, ugh! Why can’t I just fast-forward two years already.”

           He pulled himself away to look at her.

           “It’ll go by faster than you think. Especially since you have school to do until then. Make sure to keep your grades up and build some good relationships with your teachers now, so that you can have a good application to CVU, if you want it, alright? You’ll need them to write good letters of recommendation. Next time we talk, we can talk about the SAT, too.”

           “Oh yeah, I actually convinced mom to get me one of those study books for it? You know the ones.”

Jeremy smirked.

           “So, you were already thinking about college, then?” he analyzed.

           “Wh—I—I mean—yeah, a little. Just out of curiosity. With everyone talking about it, and everything…”

           “Okay. Sure. Good for you,” Jeremy teased.

           “What!”

           “Nothing!” he laughed, “Just impressed. Study hard. I’m sure you’ll do very well.”

           “I’m not a nerd like you though, let’s make that clear,” she guarded, pushing her hands out, defensively.

           “I didn’t say anything,” he grinned.

           “Yeah, but you’re looking at me with that shit-eating grin!” she slapped him on the arm.

           “Oh!” he exclaimed, “Alright, there’s no need for violence, here. Especially since nerds can’t fight, anyway.”

           “Hey!” she protested.

           “What? I just meant me,” he taunted, “…and those closely related,” he mumbled.

           “Jay!”

           “What?! Come on, let’s get this bookshelf in the car before the sun comes up, and mom puts us in a cage or something.”

           Jeremy hopped off the trunk of his car and helped Madison down, as well. They muscled the bookshelf on its side into the back of his car and shut the doors. That was everything Jeremy had returned home for. They stood on the sidewalk, avoiding the goodbye that neither wanted to say.

           “So… what are you doing, now?” she asked.

           “Well, I’m taking this stuff back to my place and setting it up, I suppose. I’ve had a bit more free time to make the trip out here since I graduated yesterday. Everything been okay here with mom and dad?”

           “Eh, well, not much has changed, if that’s what you mean. Mom is still the same dictator she-demon she’s always been, rambling about you and how you’re basically science’s second coming of Christ, but also she hates you for moving away?”

           “Makes sense.”

           “And dad is… well, he’s nice sometimes, I guess. But he’ll never stand up for either of us when mom is going on an abusive tirade. Honest to god, I think he should just divorce her for his sake, even if I have to stay. He’s not here against his will, I don’t know why he doesn’t just leave.”

           “Who knows. Fear, maybe? One thing I learned about dad early on is that when fear kicks in, he’s basically useless. And so long as he’s married to mom, he’s scared all the time.”

           “Ain’t that the truth,” Madison agreed, “Well, I’m not too scared to leave, and when I do, you and I are living it up!”

           “It’ll be great,” Jeremy smiled faintly.

They both trailed off, and their talk met its natural end. He knew it was time to go. Madison watched his smile fade away, and hers followed quickly behind.

           “I guess this is it, huh?” she said, “You gonna be okay making the drive back?”

           “I think so. I slept in today on purpose today.”

           “Heh. You even plan on sleeping in…” she chuckled, “…When are we gonna see each other again, Jay?”

           “…I’m not sure. The summer will be busy for me while I work to save up some extra money for us. Maybe sometime in the fall when I get the hang of my new program.”

           “Okay,” she frowned, “It’s just that… I miss ya sometimes, ya know?”

           Her eyes swelled up and a tear rolled down her cheek. She kept herself composed and quiet to avoid waking anyone up.

           “I miss you a lot, too, Maddie. Why do you think I planned out the next two years of your life?” he joked.

           She let out a half-laugh-half-gasp.

           “I guess that’s true.”

           “You have my number still, right?”

           “I do.”

           “Good. Maybe we can talk more that way, send each other pictures and whatnot,” he sniffed.

           “Yeah, good idea. We should do that.”

           They both suddenly clung to each other and held on as tight as they could, quietly sniveling into each other’s shoulders. They clinched each other until their arms were tired, since they knew they wouldn’t be seeing each other for six months. Jeremy quietly spoke into her shoulder.

           “Thank you for helping me,” he said.

           “Heh, aww, come on, it was nothin’,” she said, “Anything to see my state-issued nerd, again,” she smiled and wiped her eyes with her forearm, “Thanks for planning me a better life.”

           “It wasn’t that hard,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

           “Okay. Love you, Jay,” she whispered.

           “Love you too, Maddie.”

           They squeezed each other tight once more, and disbanded. Madison then gave Jeremy space to get into his car. She stood on the sidewalk with her arms folded in front of her, watching him get ready to leave. He pulled into the next driveway across the street, turned his car around, and flashed his headlights on his way out. Madison waved goodbye from the tree lawn until she watched him turn down the next road.

           Then, her neighborhood was as quiet and still as it was before he came.

[psychotherapyconsultants]

12 Ways to Keep Going with Depression

About once a week I hear the same question from a reader, “What keeps you going?” The short answer is lots of things. I use a variety of tools to persevere through my struggle with depression because what works on one day doesn’t the next. I have to break some hours into 15-minute intervals and simply put one foot in front of another, doing the thing that is right in front of me and nothing else.

I write this post for the person who is experiencing debilitating symptoms of depression. The following are some things that help me fight for sanity and keep me going, when the gravity of my mood disorder threatens to stop all forward movement.

Find a good doctor and therapist.

I have tried to beat my depression without the help of mental health professionals and discovered just how life-threatening the illness can be. Not only do you need to get help, you need to get the RIGHT help.

A reporter once referred to me as the Depression Goldilocks of Annapolis because I have seen practically all of the psychiatrists in my town. Call me picky, but I am glad I didn’t stop my search after the third or fourth or fifth physician because I did not get better until I found the right one at Johns Hopkins Mood Disorders Center. If you have a severe, complicated mood disorder, it is worth going to a teaching hospital to get a consultation.

Be just as choosy with your therapist. I have sat on therapy couches on and off for 30 years, and while the cognitive behavioral exercises were helpful, I didn’t begin making real progress until I started working with my current therapist.

Rely on your faith — or some higher power.

When everything else has failed, my faith sustains me. In my hours of desperation, I will read from the Book of Psalms, listen to inspirational music, or simply yell at God. I look to the saints for courage and resolve since many of them have experienced dark nights of the soul — Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Mother Teresa. It is of great consolation to know that God knows each hair on my head and loves me unconditionally despite my imperfections, that He is with me in my anguish and confusion.

A substantial amount of research points to the benefits of faith to mitigate symptoms of depression. In a 2013 study, for example, researchers at McLean Hospital in Belmont, Massachusetts, found that belief in God was associated with better treatment outcomes.

Be kind and gentle with yourself.

The stigma attached to depression is still, unfortunately, very thick. Maybe you have one or two people in your life who can offer you the kind of compassion that you deserve. However, until the general public offers persons with mood disorders the same compassion that is conferred on people with breast cancer or any other socially acceptable illness, it is your job to be kind and gentle with yourself. Instead of pushing yourself harder and telling yourself it’s all in your head, you need to speak to yourself as a sensitive, fragile child with a painful wound that is invisible to the world. You need to put your arms around her and love her. Most importantly, you need to believe her suffering and give it validation. In her book Self-Compassion, Kristin Neff, Ph.D., documents some of the research that demonstrates that self-compassion is a powerful way to achieve emotional well-being.

Reduce your stress.

You don’t want to give into your depression, I get that. You want to do everything on your to-do list and part of tomorrow’s. But pushing yourself is going to worsen your condition. Saying no to responsibilities because your symptoms are flaring up isn’t a defeat. It is act of empowerment.

Stress mucks up all your biological systems, from your thyroid to your digestive tract, making you more vulnerable to mood swings. Rat studies show that stress reduces the brain’s ability to keep itself healthy. In particular, the hippocampus shrinks, impacting short-term memory and learning abilities. Try your best to minimize stress with deep-breathing exercises, muscle-relaxation meditations, and simply saying no to anything you don’t absolutely have to do.

Get regular sleep.

Businessman and author E. Joseph Cossman once said, “The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep.” It is one of the most critical pieces to emotional resiliency. Practicing good sleep hygiene — going to bed at the same time at night and waking up at a regular hour — can be challenging for persons with depression because, according to J. Raymond DePaulo, Jr., M.D., co-director of the Johns Hopkins Mood Disorders Center, that’s when people often feel better. They want to stay up and write or listen to music or work. Do that too many nights, and your lack of sleep becomes the Brussels sprout on the floor of the produce aisle that you trip over. Before you know it, you’re on your back, incapable of doing much of anything.

Although pleasing our circadian rhythm — our body’s internal clock — can feel really boring, remember that consistent, regular sleep is one of the strongest allies in the fight against depression.

Serve others.

Five years ago, I read Man’s Search for Meaning by Holocaust survivor and Austrian psychiatrist Viktor Frankl and was profoundly moved by his message that suffering has meaning, especially when we can turn our pain into service of others.

Frankl’s “logotherapy” is based on the belief that human nature is motivated by the search for a life purpose. If we devote our time and energy toward finding and pursuing the ultimate meaning of our life, we are able to transcend some of our suffering. It doesn’t mean that we don’t feel it. However, the meaning holds our hurt in a context that gives us peace. His chapters expound on Friedrich Nietzsche’s words, “He who has a why can bear almost any how.” I have found this to be true in my life. When I turn my gaze outward, I see that suffering is universal, and that relieves some of the sting. The seeds of hope and healing are found in the shared experience of pain.

Look backwards.

Our perspective is, without doubt, skewed during a depressive episode. We view the world from a dark basement of human emotions, interpreting events through the lens of that experience. We are certain that we have always been depressed and are convinced that our future will be chock full of more misery. By looking backwards, I am reminded that my track record for getting through depressive episodes is 100 percent. Sometimes the symptoms didn’t wane for 18 months or more, but I did eventually make my way into the light. I call to mind all those times I persevered through difficulty and emerged to the other side. Sometimes I’ll take out old photos as proof that I wasn’t always sad and panicked.

Take a moment to recall the moments that you are most proud of, where you triumphed over obstacles. Because you will do it again. And then again.

Plan something fun.

Filling my calendar with meaningful events forces me to move forward when I’m stuck in a negative groove. It can be as simple as having coffee with a friend or calling my sister. Maybe it’s signing up for a pottery or cooking class.

If you’re feeling ambitious, plan an adventure that takes you out of your comfort zone. In May, I’m walking Camino de Santiago, or The Way of Saint James, a famous pilgrimage that stretches 778 kilometers from St. Jean Port de Pied in France to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. The anticipation of the trip has fueled me with energy and excitement during a hard stretch of my life.

You need not backpack through Europe, of course, to keep moving forward. Organizing a day trip to a museum or some local art exhibit could serve the same purpose. Just be sure to have something on your calendar other than therapy and work meetings.

Be in nature.

According to Elaine Aron, Ph.D., in her bestseller The Highly Sensitive Person, approximately 15 to 20 percent of the population is easily overwhelmed by loud noises, crowds, smells, bright lights, and other stimulation. These types have rich interior lives, but tend to feel things very deeply and absorb people’s emotions. Many people who struggle with chronic depression are highly sensitive. They need a pacifier. Nature serves that purpose.

The water and woods are mine. When I get overstimulated by this Chuck E. Cheese world of ours, I retreat to either the creek down the street or the hiking trail a few miles away. Among the gentle waves of the water or the strong oak trees in the woods, I touch ground and access a stillness that is needed to navigate difficult emotions. Even a few minutes a day provide a sense of calm that helps me to harness panic and depression when they arise.

Connect with other warriors.

Rarely can a person battle chronic depression on her own. She needs a tribe of fellow warriors on the frontline of sanity, remembering her that she is not alone and equipping her with insights with which to persevere.

Five years ago, I felt very discouraged by the lack of understanding and compassion associated with depression so I created two forums: Group Beyond Blue on Facebook and Project Hope & Beyond. I have been humbled by the level of intimacy formed between members of the group. There is power in shared experience. There is hope and healing in knowing we are in this together.

Laugh

You may think there’s nothing funny about your depression or wanting to die. After all, this is a serious, life-threatening condition. However, if you can manage to add a dose of levity to your situation, you’ll find that humor is one of the most powerful tools to fight off hopelessness. G.K. Chesterton once said, “Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.” That’s what laughter does. It lightens the burden of suffering. That’s why nurses use comedy skits in small group sessions in inpatient psychiatric units as part of their healing efforts. Humor forces some much-needed space between you and your pain, providing you a truer perspective of your struggle.

Dance in the rain.

Vivian Greene once said, “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

When I was first diagnosed with depression, I was sure that the right medication or supplement or acupuncture session would cure my condition. Ten years ago, when nothing seemed to work, I shifted to a philosophy of managing my symptoms versus curing them. Although nothing substantial changed in my recovery, this new attitude made all the difference in the world. I was no longer stuck in the waiting room of my life. I was living to the fullest, as best I could. I was dancing in the rain.

References

Rosmarin, D.H., Bigda-Peyton, J.S., Kertz, S.J., Smith, N., Rauch, S.L., & Björgvinsson, T. (2013). A test of faith in God and treatment: The relationship of belief in God to psychiatric treatment outcomes. Journal of Affective Disorders, 146(3): 441-446. Retrieved from https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S016503271200599X

Hildebrandt, S. (2012, February 6). How stress can cause depression [blog post]. Retrieved from http://sciencenordic.com/how-stress-can-cause-depression

Frankl, V.E. (1959). Man’s Search for Meaning. Cutchogue, NY: Buccaneer Books.

Aron, E. (1996). The Highly Sensitive Person. New York, NY: Carol Publishing.

from World of Psychology https://psychcentral.com/blog/12-ways-to-keep-going-with-depression/

[thadeeliv]

y’all mind if i ramble about this fucking day i’m having

too bad

so i wake up this morning.  it’s 8:18, my alarm doesn’t go off until 8:30, my first class doesn’t start until 10:00, i go back to sleep.  i wake up, it’s like 9:30.  i have half an hour to get dressed, get my shit together, and go to class.  i get dressed, it’s 9:45, i can’t find my fucking notebook.  i find it and get to class, just barely making it on time, i haven’t had anything to drink, no breakfast, didn’t even take my fuckin pill.  and then i remember that my group project group for another class has an appointment at our school’s speaking center at 10:30.  my class lasts until 10:50.  i would’ve skipped it, but i already slept through Monday’s class, so i figured i should stay for this one.  i get out of class, check my texts, someone from my group is like “Zen where are you???”  and i’m like “sorry i had class”  and then she’s like “oh you didn’t mention that yesterday” and now i’m fucking terrified.  is this a fucking interrogation?  am i being interrogated???  i was really out of it yesterday morning, i had a shitton of mail to get to after class, i forgot to mention i had class at the exact same time we had our appointment.

anyway, i’m fucking scared to respond.  at 12:00, i go to lunch.  cafeteria is packed as shit.  i had to find a tiny-ass table at a booth and sit between two sizable groups of people.  i’m eating lunch, pizza and burgers, i decide it’s time for desert.  i look at the clock, it’s a little past 12:30, my next class starts at 13:00, i gotta get out of the cafeteria by 12:45 to get to my next class, which is being filmed for the faculty for reasons i have forgotten.  if i’m late to that, that could wind up on camera, i can’t have that.  i get my ice cream, by the time i finish it, it’s 12:52.  there is no way i am getting to class on time.  i go back to my dorm, try to forget about it, but i can’t keep my mind off the fact that i’m missing class.

i’m scared, i’m depressed, it’s 16:00.  no therapy session today because my therapist is sick.  i eat dinner, there is literally nothing appealing at the cafeteria, the other on-campus dining options are Mexican and pizza, neither of which i’m in the mood for, i only know two restaurants off campus and one of them is fucking McDonald’s.  i eat 3/4s of a veggie sandwich from the cafeteria and give up.

i finally decide to do something worthwhile and take a shower, which i do successfully.  then i shave.  mustache comes off just fine, beard’s still hanging on, i cut my chin.  i go to dry my face off, and i get blood on my hand towel.  for some reason, this is the only hand towel in my suite’s bathroom.  i decide tonight is impromptu laundry night, which is a good thing, because i forgot to do my laundry last night.  i wash and dry my clothes, no problem.  i wash my towel, it’s fucking soaked.  literally dripping wet.  leaves a large puddle on the floor while i decide what to do about this.  put it in the dryer, delicate setting, hope i don’t ruin my goddamn towels because i need those to be dry.  it won’t dry until 23:00 tonight, which is when i try and fail to go to bed.  if i don’t go to bed, tomorrow’s morning class is gonna be even worse.  it starts at 9:30 and takes an actual 15 minutes to get to and it’s an hour and fifteen minutes long.  my group’s gonna be pissed at me, i may or may not have towels, the cycle of anxiety and depression continues, i have no goddamn friends, why did i think college would be any better than high school.

[brandyfields66-blog]

14 People Share Their Most Embarrassing (Yet Very Relatable) Gym Stories

Ever had a less-than-poised moment on a weight machine, or in a boot camp class? Hey, you're certainly not the only one. In a recent Reddit thread titled "Stupidest thing you've ever done in the gym?" in the XXFitness subreddit, users revealed their most cringeworthy (and often painful) workout moments-from tripping on the treadmill to gym flirting gone wrong. Here are some of the comments that had us giggling. (We recommend you stop reading now if you're currently on a cardio machine!)

Uneven bar

User Sambeano made the mistake of unloading a heavy barbell on one side, but not the other: "It was resting on the safety bars at the time, at about knee height, with about 30 kgs loaded on the other side. The bar flipped in the air and crashed into a glass door frame ... The crash was so loud everyone turned around to look." Whoops.

Bike dominos

"I thought this bench near some cardio equipment was fixed to the ground for some reason and grabbed onto it to stretch my shoulders out. I flew backwards into a row of eight stationary bikes, knocking them all over like dominoes," wrote Mpaellen.

Bottom out

Themortalvalkyrie got off a rowing machine with a bruised bum: "My butt fell off the rower. I was [trying to] do sprints and got a little too excited, and at one point I think my butt must have come up a little and the seat flew back and i came down on the bar. But it was funny." (Another Redditer jumped in, "I wish that thing had a seatbelt!")

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Nothing to sneeze at

From jazzehcakes: "Once I was running on the treadmill and closed my eyes to sneeze, which caused me to trip, land face first, and fly off the treadmill."

When exercise balls attack

"I threw an exercise ball on the mini trampoline and it flung back hit my fingers, which then hit my face," shared another Redditer. "I managed to grab the ball before it caused further chaos. Everyone around me either didn't notice or pretended not to. I probably looked like an idiot laughing to myself."

Is this thing on?

Reddutchess15 was new to the exercise scene when she tried out her university's fancy gym. Feeling a bit intimidated, she decided to "start off easy on the elliptical," she wrote. "Well, I get to the elliptical, try to push the start button, and nothing. I keep pushing the start button and nothing happens. So, I thought it was broken. Worse, I worried that I would be blamed. So I just left without doing any workout at all. It wasn't until my friend starting making fun of this other girl for the same reason days later that I realized i was supposed to get on it first." (Trust us, we've been there!)

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Itsy bitsy spider

"Tried to kill a spider while running on the treadmill," user little---dolly posted. "I lost my balance, fell down, got my shirt caught up and ended up with two scraped knees and treadmill road rash down one side of my face. Oh, and I didn't get the spider."

Pee problem

"I peed myself while squatting in a busy gym," wrote Souponastick. "That wasn't the worst part. For whatever reason my brain decided I needed to announce it, so as I was coming up from the bottom of the squat I screamed, 'I'M F****** PISSING MYSELF!' Everyone looked and watched me clean up my puddle."

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Right in the eye

"Saw a cute guy in the gym," posted Tokyo1964. "I went to take a swig of water just as our eyes met, but accidentally squeezed the bottle slightly and sprayed it into my eye instead."

Ripped pants

From Blaserea: "Ripped the crotch out of my shorts squatting, even heard it through the headphones."

Fast and furious

Ever cranked up your speed on a cardio machine to clock a specific number of miles before your time runs out? Phoenixinda attempted this strategy, without success: "Last year I decided to go extra fast on the cross trainer for the last two minutes so that I could get a full 3-mile distance at the end of the 30 minutes. Foot slipped, fell between the pedals, and my foot fractured in three places. I was out for three months ... I have been back at the gym, but I just can't bring myself to even touch the cross trainer."

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Mistaken identity

Vkm5028 learned the hard way to make sure you actually know the person you're waving at before you say hi. "Thought I saw a friend of a friend out of the corner of my eye. I was in a goofy mood, and decided to make a goofy face and wave at him. Turns out, it wasn't the guy who I thought it was, he was on the phone whenever I made the face at him, and I found out he's a player for the local minor league baseball team and probably thought I was fan-girling at the sight of him."

Sweat stain

"Worn pale blue leggings," one user commented. "It looked like I'd [peed] myself half way through my gym session."

Stuck on you

Wearing athleisure fresh out of the laundry? Make sure there's no other laundry stuck to it before you leave the house. "I once had a thong static-cling itself to my leggings," MyShoulderHatesMe posted. "I was at least 20 minutes into my workout before I noticed."