#i fucked up from day one for my mental health being in the toilet and being surrounded by toxicity in the team

[jemamore]

🫥

[wintersera]

UHM UHM CAN WE HAVE A GP WINTER X SUB READER AND GP KARINA?

roommate g!p jiminjeong x f!reader

notes: they’re just so silly and caring in this fic, also minjeongie gets a more confident abt topping reader aww and AFTERCARE AWWW

cw: overworking, threesome (reader receiving) , oral (giving), cockwarming at the end, praise, soft dom rina, um sorta dom winter?, subby reader, rina cums everywhere. not rlly proofread 😭

word count: 2.1k

in the next two weeks you had an exam. and hell, you were stressing the fuck out.

locked in your room for days on end without seeing sunlight for hours and hours, you decided that it would be best for you to cram every piece of knowledge into that brain of yours. glued to your desk table almost 24/7.

naturally, the eldest was worried for your mental and physical health. only seeing you exit your room for toilet and food breaks, food breaks being you making one cup of instant noodles per day. obviously as this progressed she grew even more anxious each time she saw you, you looked more drained than ever and she didn’t like that.

having enough of you over exerting yourself for some silly exam that wasn’t even that important, she knocks at your door gently, “hey, can i come in?” no response. “please? it’ll be quick” still no response. “i’m coming in.”

there you were with your head literally shoved inside a large ass textbook, headphones on with a blanket draped around your shoulders. the only light in your room was the desk lamp because you had your curtains closed for what you liked to call ‘study vibes’. noticing a strange presence at your door, you pull your headphones down, jerking your head towards jimin who was looking at you with concern in her eyes. “what? im studying please leave”

“you’ve been studying nonstop for the past week, are you trying to exhaust yourself… take a break”

“UM, no. i think i’m okay jimin. i need to get good grades for this exam or else i’ll cry…” putting your headphones back on, shoving your face back into the comically large textbook.

“take a break, please! how the hell are you going to do this exam when you’re literally going to pass out in the exam hall” swivelling your chair around to make you meet her face. ignoring her requests, she grows a little impatient, “right… if you’re not gonna relax i might as well help you relieve your stress” sitting on your bed, taking her shorts off revealing her boxers. she pats her lap ,wanting you to come sit on her. “come on, i know you want to.” grinning at you so sweetly. you couldn’t really say no anyways, she was so cute about it.

“okay fine, but only for a bit. then i have to get back to studying for real. deal?”

standing up from the chair was definitely a challenge for you. you had been sitting there for quite a while and your legs were trying to get used to well… walking. “you know what, let me just-“ with ease, she picks you up, sitting herself down with you on top of her lap, facing the door which was right in front of you. “-perfect. now i can help you out” even though you could do it yourself, jimin insisted on helping, taking off your shorts and panties, leaving just your shirt on.

sitting there, bare on her bulge, you began to feel a familiar sensation form in your stomach. “do you want me to skip the foreplay today? or… no?”

“well… you said i should relieve my stress so…” giggling in excitement as you guide her hands around you “don’t skip it”

with that she began. delicately touching your body everywhere, from caressing your thighs to light touches on the sides of your waist to fondling your breasts, sending shivers down your spine. gently holding your jaw as she moves your head to the side to kiss you gently on the lips. first starting off as sweet pecks that gradually turned into her licking your lips for entrance, wanting to let her tongue roam the insides of your mouth. she’s so gentle with it, savouring your reactions as if she’s never going to see you again, taking the time to tease you where she knows you like, commenting on how pretty your moans are and more. “you’re so cute, y/n. you’re so pretty”

you notice her bulge growing larger and larger, she was getting turned on too, purposely pushing her chest into your back because she knows how much you love her tits, but also because she wants to feel closer to you, and of course the fabric covering her nipples rubbed against her which she always loved. her breath tickling your neck as she, not so subtly, grinds you on her covered cock. oh she’s definitely hard. with how big it is, it must be a pain to keep it hidden in her jeans all day.

“jimin… mm.. take your.. boxers off” you whimper out between each breath you take. carefully lifting you up a little bit, you help her shuffle out of her boxers, letting it fall to her feet. “god you’re so- big” she wraps her arms around your waist pulling you back down, this time sliding her cock all the way inside, her tip almost kissing your cervix.

“can i start moving?” nipping your ear as she strokes the sides of your waist again. her tone filled with dripping lust, it was so obvious that she wanted to ram into you, but she wasn’t like that… unless you told her to.

“go ahead”

ever so gently she pushes her cock in and out of you, yet again praising you for taking her so well and saying how good your pretty moans sound to her. “focus… on me. let me help you forget about that stupid exam” lifting your hips up and pushing it back down again to help you ride her.

to be honest, the position you guys were in made it quite difficult for her to move her hips. but nonetheless she wanted you to be comfortable, only disregarding her slight discomfort to help you with your stress. so sweet.

she began to quicken her thrusts, feeling your walls squeezing down on her shaft. akin to a puppy, she desperately ruts into you, her moans becoming more and more louder with each push, yet she doesn’t forget about you.

gathering up the slick between your thighs she uses one of her hands, slowly rubbing your clit in circles while she uses her other hand to move your head to the side, acting on the urge to kiss you once more.

too absorbed in the pleasure, you and jimin fail to notice the sound of the front door being pushed open.

minjeong, fully unaware of whatever is going on in your room, bought your favourite drink as a surprise from the cafe just across the street, hoping that it would soothe you as she was also equally worried as jimin

“y/n, i’ve got your fav- hi..?” she knows you study with your headphones on so she usually walks in without a care, but this time was different. oh she was flushed in the face. “um- i- uhhhh…” stuttering horribly while she awkwardly places the drink on your desk. there you were with jimins cock shoved right up your cunt, legs wide open for her to gawk at.

who in the dorm wouldn’t get a boner? absolutely no one, obviously. and with full shame, minjeong felt her pants tighten, groaning at the delicious view in front of her.

you and jimin couldn’t care any less at this point, still fucking while she was in the room. you could tell that she was holding herself back when she could very easily take your head and shove you down to choke on her cock. but you knew she had a lot of shame to not do that.

“i-i’ll just leave. uh… you two carry on w-what you were doing” just before she was about to leave, jimin ,although dazed, thought long and hard.

“minjeong wait. fuck, help me out please? make y/n forget about studying for now” suddenly hoisting you up causing you to whine “y/n baby, lay down on your back for me please” doing as you were told, you laid there bare, pussy clenching around nothing as you felt the stares of two hungry woman staring at your naked body.

minjeong immediately grew shy at the request, throwing a glance at your still body waiting for her on the bed. she sighed, “are you sure? none of us have shared y/n before so like… i don't know” it took a few more persuasions from jimin to fully get her to agree. not usually topping you she didn’t have a clue on what to do. here you laid with your legs open for her, chest rising up and down, eagerly waiting for either one of their cocks to fill you up.

“guysss… hurry up please. i’m horny as hell and i need to get back to studying”

“hold on a sec. let me just move again” jimin said as she stood up. hovering almost right above your head, she orders you to open your mouth wide enough for her to slide her length in. as she fills your throat up, she takes both of her hands around your neck, both for choking you and stabilisation.

again, minjeong just stood there. drinking in the view of you taking jimins massive dick inside of your whorish mouth. just look at the bump moving up and down your throat. everyone say thank you to karina.

quickly taking off both her pants and underwear, she shuffles herself between your legs and teases your entrance. “a-ah, you’re already so wet y/n… mmhm i’m putting it in okay?” latching onto your hips for dear life. poor minjeongie, it’s her first time trying to dom you without being drunk as hell. shyly bucking her hips into you, you let out a couple faint moans.

“cmon minjeong don’t pussy around. actually slam into her- fuck, like this..” while demonstrating her extremely good thrust game, she starts fucking your mouth, pretty much using it like a fleshlight. “god your throat feels so amazing. good girl, k-keep using your tongue like that”

amazed at how rhythmic her hips were moving, she starts following the same speed as her. thrusting in and out in the same pace as she does, creating this new and very welcome sensation. it was also oddly sensual, knowing that the two of your roommates were currently bonding over… having sex with you. endearing in some sort of way.

getting lost in the moment, feeling both of your holes being filled up with these two massive cocks, you feel your legs shaking baadddd. the both of them could feel you growing closer to orgasm, minjeongie feeling your pussy pulsing and tightening each time she hits your favourite spot, whilst jimin could feel you struggling to keep up with your deepthroating, feeling how your muffled moans grew louder and louder. and of course this caused them to both edge closer to their own orgasm.

it hit hard. harder than usual. both watching as you unravel under them, hands searching for the nearest thing to grab, that being jimins arm. slipping your mouth out of jimins cock, you lift your back off of the bed, lips parting as your head rolled back in pure ecstasy. it felt so relieving.

and shortly after the two of them both came. minjeong spilling every last drop of cum into your pussy, leaning forwards to push her load further into you. then jimin finishing all over your face and stomach, her warm cum decorating your body.

you definitely deserve this after working your ass off for the past few days.

the three of you just rested for a while. panting heavily as you all simmer down from your highs.

“i’ll be back, i’ll get you guys some water” pulling her boxers back on and walking to the kitchen her boner is still apparent. well i mean your tits are still covered with her cum, how can she not be turned on

“oh right! your drink i almost forgot about it” minjeong says as she grabs it from your desk. she’s still stood between your legs but the distance from your bed to there wasn’t quite far away. lowering the drink to your face, she also wipes the cum away with her other hand. “didn’t know jimin unnie cums this much. goddamn…” you laugh at her, sipping the drink.

“minjeong… are you going to pull out yet?

“can we cuddle like this instead? you feel comfy” setting the drink back down, both facing each other, she lies right beside you, her cock still inside.

“yeah alright cutie, i guess i’ll stop studying. let’s just stay like this tonight” embracing her as she kisses your cheek.

“you guys cuddling without me?? wait for me” pouting so cutely at you both “let me join in” now the three of you are all cuddling on one bed. all cosy together you doze off to sleep completely ignoring the work you had to do. oh well you can try again tomorrow, but maybe they’ll help you relax again :))

[lyn-1225]

Tough days

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, depression, self harm, anxiety (a little bit), blood, panic attack, sexual reference. I think that’s about it.

Word count: 2000-3000

A/n: I’ve been absolutely obsessed with shameless lately and Carl is my favorite by far. Of course I had to stay up till 2 AM to write this. I’m currently working on a request sent but if you have a request please don’t hesitate to let me know :) enjoy my bad writing.

⚠️ if you are sensitive to topics of mental health please don’t read this. Your safety and mental health is a top priority. ⚠️

This gif of Carl makes me want to scream 😆

——————————————————————

Your POV:

It was known that life wasn’t fair.

It never was and it never would be.

It seemed like I could never catch a break.

Once life actually seemed good, something would come and fuck it up.

This time depression decided to fuck it up.

I’ve always suffered with it, but this time it was different. It was always manageable and short before but now, it was longer and harder to deal with.

The overwhelming fear that I wasn’t good enough and that everyone around me hated me was way stronger than it’s ever been.

Normally reading, writing, painting, or listening to music would help but I was too in my head this time.

I couldn’t get out.

Thought after thought filled my head as I held the small cold razor in my right hand.

It wasn’t the first time unfortunately.

It was some sort of relief. At the time that is.

Small droplets of blood run down my left forearm, the pain allowing for a small relief that I’ve been needing.

That relief is short lived when the thoughts come swarming back to my head.

Oh no not again.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t manage to get rid of the nasty thoughts.

Just one more.

One turned into two which then turned into three.

At that point I gave up. Not on life but on that form of relief.

It was only harming me not helping me.

I stand up from the toilet seat washing off the razor and my arm being careful of the fresh cuts.

The sting makes me wince as the water runs over my skin.

I turn the water off heading back to my room to change and hide the razor.

Spotting a grey long sleeve shirt I swap it out for my current t- shirt. Finding a pair of black, pink sweatpants I put them on taking my shorts off beforehand.

The heat from the shirt and pants envelops me making me feel happy.

I was no longer cold due to the weather that somehow only happens at night around here.

Lately things at home haven’t been the best. My parents are almost never home anymore. They never really cared about me in the first place.

I pick up my phone checking the time that shows up in big font.

11:43 PM.

My mind still runs as I check my recent notifications hoping and praying that Carl texted.

He didn’t.

Carl and I have been best friends for years. We met in school of course.

To be honest I have no idea why he wanted to be friends with me. I’m the complete opposite of him.

He doesn’t seem to care though.

Yes he does he thinks you’re annoying that mean voice in my head sneers.

That’s not true.. right?

Those thoughts plague my mind sending me into a whirlwind of emotions. How pathetic am I to be easily persuaded by a single thought in my head?

The panic in my chest starts to rise signaling the worst thing that could be happening right now.

Fuck.

Immediately I find Carl’s contact, pressing the call button.

Placing the phone to my ear with a shaky hand, I try to take deep breaths.

After the fourth ring he picks up.

“Hello?” He says in a groggy voice.

Shit. I woke him up.

“Hi um” I start before stopping my sentence as I feel a lump form in my throat.

“Hey you okay?” Carl asks on the other side picking up on my hesitation.

“I um. I-is it okay if I um. Come over” I stutter pinching my eyes together trying not to break down.

“Yeah of course, I’ll wait for you outside” he says, shuffling being heard from his side of the phone.

“T-thank you” I say starting to head for my front door.

“I’ll be here” he reassures before hanging up.

I place my phone in my pocket opening the front door. Shutting the door behind me I start for the Gallagher house.

It’s probably a good thing I live a few houses down from him.

The dark cold outside fills around me. The cold somehow creeping through my warm clothes.

Walking fast down the sidewalk, the panic in my chest starts to worsen making my head fog up and my heart rate pick up.

Carls figure appears a few houses away. His body sitting on the steps to his house as he looks out at the road the street light illuminating his face just the right way.

Without even realizing it my pace quickens hoping that I wouldn’t start breaking down in the middle of the neighborhood.

As I get closer and closer the tightness in my lungs starts making it harder for me to breathe.

Shit.

Tears sting my eyes when I reach his calm yet slightly worried appearance.

He immediately gets up noticing me standing in front of him.

Without a word he leads me up the stairs and into his warm and cozy home.

Home.

This felt like home.

The tears in my eyes start to fall as the panic attack starts to take control. Normally I’d be able to stop an upcoming attack before it starts but this one was way to strong.

“Shit y/n” Carl whispers shocked at my sudden emotions. He quickly pulls my body towards the couch as tears run down my cheeks.

It was embarrassing to have him see me like this. Even though we’ve been friends for years, I’ve never been the type to express my feelings openly. I’ve never cried in front of him before.

There’s a first for everything right?

He holds my face in his hands, worry lacing over his beautiful features.

Sobs rack through my body as it gets harder and harder to breathe.

“I can’t b-breathe” I hiccup placing a shaky hand on my rapidly beating heart.

Fear starts to push into my mind.

Not the typical fears.

The tightness in my chest and the lack of air going into my lungs was starting to scare me.

Was I dying?

“Look at me” Carl says trying to get my focus on him. His hand taps my leg enough to get my attention but not enough to scare me.

Everything around me starts to spin making it extremely difficult to focus.

“Y/n look at me” he tries again this time moving my head in his direction griping my chin slightly.

My eyes lock with his, my entire body feeling like it’s gonna give out any second. “Follow my breathing” he says moving my hands to his stomach so that I could feel the rhythm of his breathing.

The rise and fall of his stomach underneath my hands calms me the slightest bit. It’s not enough to stop my internal and external freak out though.

He takes a few deep breaths keeping his hands on mine. His eyes hold contact with mine the entire time. Not in a creepy way of course but more in a concerned way.

Inhale

Exhale

I try to do what he’s doing, failing a few times.

Inhale

Exhale

My heart beats a mile per minute, my mind still racing.

Inhale

Exhale

My breathing starts to get better as I follow his lead.

Inhale

Exhale

I open my eyes for what felt like the first time. No more cloudy eyes filled with tears.

Inhale

Exhale

My heart beat starts to slow down the more I match my breathing.

Inhale

Exhale

The panic attack comes to a slow close, my body feeling drained of any stamina it originally had.

That was the worst panic attack I’ve ever had.

“Good” Carl comments making it known to me that he’s relieved that I’m no longer freaking out. Squeezing my hands in his slowly taking them away from his stomach he gives me a small yet sad smile.

I could tell he wanted to ask me about it but I know he didn’t want to push. Considering the fact that this was the first time I’ve cried in front of him, he was smart enough to know that I wouldn’t immediately talk about it.

My mind starts to clear giving me that much needed silence in my head. The silence I only seem to get with him.

I bow my head a few stray tears falling from my eyes.

“I’m sorry” I whisper, the embarrassment starting to show through.

Everything I’ve bottled up has presented itself to the one person I didn’t think would be there to see it.

“Hey, hey” he says lifting my head wiping the tears from my face.

“Don’t ever be sorry for something you can’t control” he frowned looking into my slightly glossy eyes.

His green eyes stare deeply into mine with an emotion I didn’t quite know. His face shows so many emotions that tell me exactly how he feels about the situation. He seems more shocked and worried than anything.

I nod my head silently saying okay even though I was gonna continue saying sorry even in times where I did nothing wrong. That’s just me though.

After a few seconds of us sitting in silence, he reaches over to the coffee table grabbing the remote before turning the tv on. He slightly lays down urging me to lay down as well.

Grateful that he decided to leave it, I lean down next to him making sure I don’t get in his way.

“Want to watch something specific?” He asks turning to me pointing the remote towards me.

“Um. I don’t know” I answer looking down at my arms. My left sleeve had risen to the point where the fresh cuts underneath where showing. I pull my sleeve further down my arm quickly enough to make sure Carl didn’t see.

I was to busy worrying about my sleeve that I didn’t notice the fact that Carl was starting at me the entire time. With him staring at me meant him also starting at my exposed arm.

I didn’t pull my sleeve down fast enough.

He saw my arm before I could even blink.

His expression changed when I turned back towards him. This time he was more sad and discouraged.

“Oh y/n/n” he sighed leaning up so that he was closer to me.

He takes my arms in his hands slowly lifting both my sleeves up.

The right arm only had a few scattered scars from a while ago, but the fresh cuts on my left arm show in full display, a few of them still slightly bleeding.

He runs the tips of his middle and pointer finger around the cuts focusing on the sight in front of him. The small action causes goosebumps to rise on my arms.

“Why?” He questions lightly going over the cuts now. He was hesitant when asking one of the questions that I’ve been dreading since my depression started.

I’ve been hiding my emotions and my thoughts for so long that everything that should be let out is bottling up in my mind.

I trusted Carl with everything in me. I’ve always been scared to share my thoughts in fear that no one would care or they’d say that I’m an attention seeker. All of this comes from past trauma that has kicked my ass in the past and still does now.

It was time for me to tell him. He’s come to me in the worst times of his life crying at my shoulder. It was time to allow myself to do the same.

“I needed a release” I start, clearing the silence in the air.

He looks up at me a mixture of surprise and sadness knowing that I was about to open up about everything going on.

“My mind won’t shut up. I have these overwhelming fears that everyone around me hates me. That you find me annoying. That I’m not good enough” I explain looking at him for his reaction.

“There’s a lot more shit that I still need to talk about but I think for right now this is a good start” I say showing a tight lipped smile.

His eyes soften at my explanation.

“I don’t find you annoying at all. You are the only person I like talking to other than my family” he says moving his hands back down to mine.

“Truth is. I’ve had a crush on you since we met. I just never had the guts to admit it” he says rubbing small circles into my hands.

Relief and delight fills my body at his sudden confession. Relief that he wasn’t judging me for my thoughts and delight because the crush I’ve had on him for years was reciprocated.

I smile at him squeezing his hand “I’ve had a crush on you too.”

A smile graces his face now at my confession. He wraps his arms around my upper body pulling me towards his chest.

I feel myself melt at his touch as the sensation of calm runs through my veins.

I wrap my arms around his neck, my head finding it way to his chest. Our heartbeats quickens a bit at the interaction.

He kisses the top of my head making sure that I know he’s sincere about his confession before pulling back from the embrace.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” he says standing up from the couch. He reaches his hand out to me wanting me to take it.

“Okay” I smile taking his hand, standing up with a little bit of his help.

My body is still shaky which means my legs feel like jelly underneath me. Exhaustion still evident within me.

He leads me to the kitchen taking his hand out from mine when we reach the counter top and the sink.

I clear a spot on the counter before I hop up on it, waving my legs back and forth like a child.

He grabs a cup filling it with water handing it to me.

“Drink this” he demands handing me the cup while trying to sound stern even though he’s gone soft for me.

“Don’t go acting all mean on me now” I chuckle taking a sip of the cool water.

“I’ll be back” he laughs shaking his head at my statement. He walks up the stairs and out of my sight leaving me to sit with my almost clear mind.

I take a few more sips of my drink as I wait for him to get back.

A few minutes later he walks back down the stairs holding a first aid kit.

“Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t find it at first. There’s so much shit in this house that everything I see is lost the next day” he snickers examining the box in his hands.

I laugh as he sets it on the counter to the left of my body. He opens the box searching through the contents to find the things he needed.

He grabs some ointment and some alcohol spray, placing them off to the side. He then grabs bandage wrap placing that to the side as well.

Walking over to the laundry he picks out a dish rag walking it back over to the sink. He runs the water over half the rag making sure that that water is rung out.

“Ready?” He asks moving to my left side.

“Your not doing surgery on me right?” I ask trying my best to sound concerned for my safety.

I laugh a little to try and lighten the mood considering the circumstances i got him involved in.

He laughs as well placing the cold wet rag on my forearm. Focusing on what he’s doing he gently runs the rag along my arm making sure to clean up any blood or dirt that has built up around the cuts.

The more he looks at it the more I can tell it’s starting to affect him. His once smiley face turned serious as time went on.

“Promise me you won’t do this again” he pleads taking his eyes off my arm. He looks up at me with pleading eyes.

“I promise” I say giving him a genuine reassuring look that both me and him need.

It’s hard to make a promise that you don’t know if you’ll keep, but I know that if I do break the promise he would understand. Of course I’m gonna do everything in my power to never do this again.

His eyes light up at my promise making him smile. Seeing him happy about my promise makes me even more determined to not break it.

Using the dry side of the rag he dries up my arm, placing the rag into the sink for someone else in the house to take care of it.

He grabs the spray from off the counter uncapping it and pointing it towards my arm.

“This is gonna sting” he says spraying it onto the fresh cuts. The stinging sensation flows through my arm making me wince slightly.

It wasn’t the worst pain in the world but you could definitely feel it.

He quickly finished up with the spray giving me a sympathetic look as he caps the spray and puts it back onto the counter.

He looks back down at my arm grabbing the ointment unscrewing the lid.

He applies small amounts on my arm before rubbing it over the cuts with a gentle touch I never thought he’d have.

That alone makes my heart flutter.

I stare at him with loving eyes as he cleans his fingers off and grabs the bandage wrap. He starts to wrap my arm with the bandage making sure that it’s tight enough that It won’t fall off but not tight enough for it to cut off my circulation.

“There, all done” he smiles placing everything back into the kit shutting it closed.

I smile before looking down at my bandage wrapped arm. The white wrap goes around almost my entire forearm. The sight makes it look like I belong in a psych ward.

That thought makes me frown knowing what I did to myself.

I didn’t deserve that.

He didn’t deserve that.

“Hey” Carl says gaining my attention. I look up in his direction as he moves in between my legs.

“It’s okay” he says placing his hands on my hips. He looks at me with soft eyes.

The tears in my eyes start to fall down my face again. I quickly wipe them away trying to make it seem like I wasn’t just crying in front of him.

Carl takes my face in his hands rubbing my cheeks with each of his thumbs. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t open up to me” he says keeping his eyes trained on mine.

“I know you don’t like talking about your feelings but it’s obvious whatever’s going on is hurting you. I don’t want you feeling hurt” he whispers the last part tears of his own starting to form.

“Carl please don’t cry” I say lifting my hands to his face so that I could wipe underneath his eyes. He moves his hands from my face down to my hips again lightly squeezing the fat that is there.

“Things at home haven’t been the greatest” I start about to tell my whole life story to him.

He stares at me intently urging me to continue my words as he rubs my hip bones with his thumbs.

“My parents were never around. I practically raised myself my entire life. Anytime they were home they would constantly yell at each other” I say looking at him then looking around the room.

“I’ve been dealing with depression and anxiety ever since I was 9 or 10” I confess. His eyebrows furrow at the age I said. That was a year or so before me and him met.

“It hasn’t been to bad to deal with. I can deal with it on my own, but this time it was worse” I bow my head feeling slightly ashamed at the fact that I couldn’t control it.

“I didn’t think I could go through this one alone so I came here” i finish as I look around the house. The safe proximity helping me feel okay.

I look back to him waiting to hear a response. He looks at me with big eyes and a small sad smile.

Out of nowhere he leans his head forward capturing my lips in a passionate and sweet kiss.

The kiss is soft and filled with the emotions running through his head.

My stomach explodes with butterflies, our lips move in sync with each other.

He keeps his hands on my hips this time squeezing them a little bit more than before.

A little out of breath we pull away our foreheads leaning against each other.

“Im so sorry if I gave you a reason to not trust me with everything you’ve gone through” he whispers to me touching his nose to mine.

“Carl” I start looking into his eyes. “Please don’t let yourself think that I don’t trust you. I trust you more than I trust anyone else in my life” I say.

“From now on I will talk to you anytime something happens. I won’t bottle things up anymore” I promise him taking my forehead away from his.

He smiles at me before wrapping his arms around my shoulders while mine wrap around his waist.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you” he chuckles resting his head on top of mine.

“Trust me. Me too” I smile leaning my head up to kiss the side of his jaw. He looks down at me a huge smile crossing his face.

“This definitely isn’t the right time but is it wrong for me to say that you kissing my jaw is a huge turn on” he says pulling away from our hug.

“Oh really” I smirk purposefully moving my hands to his waist so that I could pull him closer.

“Want me to prove it” he asks maneuvering his hands along my thighs dangerously close to where he wanted to be the most.

I would be lying if I said this wasn’t turning me on as well but instead of giving in I decided to be a tease.

“Nah I’m good thanks though” I say nonchalantly jumping down from the counter grabbing my glass that previously had water in it.

“You son of a bitch” Carl says looking at me as if I spit at him. Putting my glass under the faucet I turn it on filling the glass back up with water.

I point my left middle finger at him while I take a large sip of the water.

He looks at me in disbelief his eyes slightly wide.

I’ve never been like this before but I guess now I’m gonna show every part of me that he never knew.

“So that’s how you want to play huh?” He asks moving closer to me. He has a smug look on his face like he’s about to pounce at any moment.

“Don’t you dare” I say placing my glass down before backing away from him slowly.

He continues moving forward trapping me in the corner of the sink and the refrigerator.

Suddenly running towards me he picks me up making me squeal.

I wrap my legs around his waist while my arms wrap around his neck trying to make sure I don’t fall.

He laughs placing his hands around my back. He spins me around in a circle keeping a strong grip around me.

“I like this position” he comments earning a slap to the side of the head from me. “Stop it” I laugh wrapping my arms around his neck again.

He walks us to the living room lightly throwing me down onto the couch before landing on top of me.

He leans up to place a short kiss to my lips before turning the tv back on to a random channel.

He switches through a few channels before giving up. There wasn’t anything good on since it was practically the middle of the night.

It was some sort of animal channel but we didn’t care.

We only cared about each other.

He cuddled up to my chest pulling my sleeves back down my arms to my hands knowing it was annoying me.

I play with his hair as both of us start to loose touch of reality and start to blink back sleep.

Tonight’s actions run through my head one last time before I fall asleep with him cuddled up to me.

I hope every day includes special moments like what we had tonight.

——————————————————————

A/n: Every imagine I see they say Carl has blue eyes. When I looked it up on google it said that he had green eyes. So that’s what I went with. Hope you liked the imagine :) I had a great time writing it.

[dolphingirl1234]

welcome to the first headcanons post in what will hopefully become a series unless my brain randomly decides to hyperfocus on something else

starting off with our favourite traumatised polar bear...

IT'S CAPTAIN BARNACLES LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!! 📣✨‼️

please enjoy my shitty picrew human version of him

gonna be honest I hate this one he looks like my dad when he was like 12

imagine him looking like this but way older

anyway headcanons:

30-mid/late 30's

idk if there's a name for this one but is sexually attracted to females but romantically attracted to males

has never dated because of this and has no desire to

he/him

he was the last of the crew to actually recognise his sexuality

everyone came out to him and he was like inwardly homophobic because of the way he had been brought up, but made a notebook full of everyone's pronouns and stuff so he could remember, and never did/said anything homophobic to anyone else - kinda like Imogen in heartstopper yk

dark brown hair that's kinda going grey on the sides

grey eyes

always has eye bags because our boy does not sleep

he's not that strict on uniform - there are random clothes that tweak plonked the octonauts logo onto and that's what is considered uniform; everyone is allowed to wear whatever they want as long as its appropriate and has the logo on it somewhere.

basically always wears the same thing because the entire world will fall apart without his routine

played candy crush once in an ad and loved it

he secretly plays it on the web bc he can't admit to himself that he likes it enough to actually download it

everyone has called him dad at least once

gets fathers day cards from everyone every year

^^ has cried from this on multiple occasions

doesn't get sick often but when he does he is SICK. the second he wakes up his face is grey and pale and he physically cannot speak without coughing

peso makes him go to bed and when he eventually agrees he sleeps for like 2 days straight and is then immediately better

he tells kwazii off for being reckless but he's done some pretty dumb shit himself

will sacrifice himself for anyone and anything (has been told off about this many times and still continues to do it)

he and inkling are the only people in the crew who like dark chocolate

absolutely despises anything sour

his pain tolerance is very high

likes mint and will casually go to the garden pod and eat it raw

has claustrophobia (canon)

also has emetophobia (look it up) because I like projecting

once you've looked up emetophobia come back and read the next one:

when he was a cub and was learning to catch and eat fish he threw up after eating one particular fish and every time he sees it in the sea he will literally hold his breath and run away

he's actually very good at modern lingo and memes but does not understand for the life of him what a skibidi toilet is

sees peso as his son and will literally protect him with his life

other crew members have various mental health struggles and barnacles is genuinely so proud of them when they do anything that's hard for them even if its just surviving the day its so cute

he hasn't experienced the things the others go through but he has so much empathy and pride for them its insane

gives the best bear hugs and when he gets sad all he wants is cuddles but he's too scared to ask anyone

natquik and kwazii are the only people who have seen him have a full breakdown

if you've had a bad day he's your guy he will pick you up and cradle you like a baby no problem

on his birthday he literally gives zero fucks about presents but is insistent on getting/making really goof presents for everyone else

he has the deepest voice ever. and he's not terrible at singing either but he never sings. ever.

the accordion secretly pisses him off as well and he just keeps playing it because it's an ongoing joke and he doesn't want to ruin it

his paws are MASSIVE.

that's all for now I hope you enjoyed your exclusive look at Zoe's Headcanons TM I probably forgot some so you might get some more later 👀

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

I have so much work to do, it isn't even funny, and here I am, doing none of it. So, instead of just sitting in front of my computer and letting anxiety eat me up, I'm going to see how married life is treating Minglan.

I have three shows that I am actively watching right now. It's a battle to choose which one to watch at any given time. The struggle is real 😫

***

Well, he's feeling energetic the morning after 😅

***

LMAO, OK, so I know that the implication here is that he has great stamina and wore her out, but, honestly, my first thought was that she must have been doing all the physical work of their first night together, so she's now tired and he's up and about doing acrobatics 🤣🤣

***

LMAO, I'm on her side here!

Sleep above all!

To hell with the shitty in-laws.

***

What a thing to tell your newly-wedded wife!

Yikes 😬

***

LMAOOOO 🤣🤣

Hopefully he, ahem, learned other skills at the brothel instead 🤣🤣

He's so fully of nonsense, I cannot 🤣🤣

***

Ugh, these vipers.

The sooner they move out, the better.

***

Who?

***

AGAIN, WHO??

Honestly, my stance for this drama is that anyone who wants to commit suicide should be allowed to 🙄

***

Wait, is she implying that Gu Tingye is sleeping with this woman?

Because, seriously? SERIOUSLY??

Now they are straight-up lying to stir up trouble in their marriage! AND THIS IS, LIKE, THE FIRST DAY!! 🤬🤬

Minglan, don't be an idiot. Don't believe them!

***

Oh, and the lot of you are soooooo worried about how some random servant who is sleeping with the master of the house is going to live 🙄🙄

I cannot with the what-the-fuckery on display here 🤬🤬

GU TINGYE, WHERE ARE YOU?

THIS IS SLANDER!!

***

Even if any of this was true, WHO GIVES A FUCK??

OK, so, personal story time. Skip for TMI, or something. IDC.

When I was nineteen, I was living away from home for the first time in a dormitory and I had these roommates. I was a very stupid, naive, sexually inexperienced, frontal-cortex-still-entirely-udeveloped nineteen. I was studying architecture, the hours were ridiculous, the living conditions were atrocious (and I mean no hot water, communal toilets for the entire floor, no privacy whatsoever, perpetually drunk, eternally partying next-door neighbours bringing creepy men over, it was absolute hell with no recourse) and I was really, really struggling to keep afloat.

My self-esteem also wasn't the greatest and I'd spent my entire teens feeling unlovable and unattractive because, idk, I didn't look like Naomi Campbel, and was told from numerous sides that being some random average girl was just not enough. My mental health went down the drain that year and it never really recovered. I hadn't been doing particularly great even before that, but it was like that whole hellish mess snapped some final thread in me and it was just a downward spiral after downward spiral for years after that. It took an additional ten years to get diagnosed and put on meds because everyone is just so stupid and when you are young, you don't know how to advocate for yourself, or even that you should be doing so.

And then there were these roommates.

There were three of them, all older than me, and we lived in this tiny twelve-square-metre room with three single beds (two of them had to share because one of them was a friend who was there "illegally" because she had lost her right to accommodation for repeating the year and didn't want to go back to her parent's home for the time being and I was too stupid to put my foot down, report her and tell her to fuck off). The two legal ones were sisters.

And let me tell you, I was so in AWE of them! All three were tall, beautiful, put together and confident! They were incredibly popular and had men crawling all over them. I felt pathetic in comparison. I wasn't jealous, not exactly, I just felt inadequate and held the two sisters on this incredibly high pedestal because they seemed so smart and gorgeous (not so much the friend, because even though she was beautiful too, she had this self-absorbed, self-centred, flighty, shallow character that I just couldn't respect). The sisters, however, were everything I wished I could be, especially the younger one.

That particular sister, let's call her M, was also studying architecture. She was in year four (compared to my miserable first year) and she was doing so well, her work was amazing. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was the epitome of elegance, intelligence and beauty in my eyes. She could do no wrong. Hero worship was in full swing, I couldn't imagine she could be any more perfect even if I tried.

And then a few months into our hellish living arrangement, I found out that she was fooling around with this worthless guy who was cheating on his long-term girlfriend with her. They had an on-again-off-again relationship. They had broken up before because he refused to leave the official girlfriend, but for whatever reason, she was in love with his mediocre ass and kept going back to him. I was shocked when the whole story came out. There she was, the most perfect girl I had ever known, letting this cheating loser string her along like that. It was gross.

Let me tell you, that pedestal I put her on came crumbling down so fast because even my infatuated, naive, sleep-deprived and chemically imbalanced brain knew this was very wrong (it took me several more years and another incident with a woman I was super close to and had adored for years to teach me not to mess with cheaters and the people they cheat with because they are always fundamentally deficient in some hidden (or not so hidden) ways and that whatever damage they have that lets them act in this way will eventually drag you down too, but I digress).

In my shock, I asked her, why? Of all people, why him? This girl was so gorgeous, she could have had any man on the planet. She said they were in love. And I asked her, if he loved her so much, why didn't he break up with his girlfriend (mind you, the girlfriend fully thought they were getting married sometime in the near future). It seemed so obvious to me, if he truly loved her, he should have ended his previous relationship and dated her openly.

AND SHE TOLD ME THIS EXACT SAME LINE. THIS COMPLETE BULLSHIT OF A MANIPULATIVE EXCUSE.

Apparently, the shitty cheater couldn't break up with the girlfriend because the girlfriend had sworn that if he broke up with her, she would never marry anyone else and stay single her whole entire life. And he, the poor baby, couldn't live with that, so he couldn't leave her 🤯🤯

I had never heard something more ridiculous in my life. It was so absurd, and it was so world-altering for me that this perfect girl, the girl I had thought was so put together and so incredibly smart, was TAKING THIS UTTER STUPIDITY SERIOUSLY. I still remember it so clearly, even after all these years. It didn't make sense then and it still doesn't make sense now. It's the XXI century!! Break up with the woman you don't love!! What the hell is this nonsense?? WHO THE FUCK CARES IF SHE DECIDES TO NEVER MARRY ANYONE ELSE? IT IS NO LONGER YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!!

Also, all these people were in their early fucking twenties, the absolute delusion that any of her threats (if they were even real and not made up by the loser cheater because all cheaters ever do is lie) were in any way a real and enforceable thing that would come to pass. BUT EVEN IF SHE NEVER DID GET MARRIED? SO FUCKING WHAT? NOT YOUR CIRCUS, NOT YOUR MONKEYS.

And there she was, sneaking around with this garbage man because he gave her this nonsensical excuse. The stupidity is unending. I cannot. I could not and will never be able to can 🙄🙄

And back to the actual show now.

WHO THE FUCK CARES IF SHE NEVER MARRIES? WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT BLACKMAIL IS THAT? FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF AND THEN KEEP FUCKING OFF SOME MORE UNTIL YOU DROP INTO A DEEP BLACK HOLE AND KEEP DROPPING UNTIL YOU REACH THE EARTH'S CORE AND DISINTEGRATE IN THE LAVA.

Ugh.

***

WHO THE FUCK CAAAAAARES 🤬🤬

Also, let's not forget that these are the very people who wanted to murder Manniang and Gu Tingye's actual children with her. They are so concerned with the status of a lower-class servant sleeping with the Young Master and how she will raise her head in public and go on living. So, so, so concerned 🙄🙄

***

Minglan, please tell them to fuck all the way off.

I am beyond pissed.

***

OMFG.

I am beyond sick of these wretched bottom feeders and their "path of survival" 🤮

BITCH, DIE.

***

True! Let's all ask him!!

I am sure he will just love all this slander.

This whole thing is just beyond WTF.

***

What exactly were her parents supposed to teach her?

Just take in some random prostitute for her husband the day after she was married? What the actual fuck is wrong with this woman? Worms for brains, I swear. The audacity is astounding.

***

OH MY GOD, THEN GO DIE ALREADY

I am so tired 🙄

***

This dumb fucking bully.

The best thing that ever happened to women was emancipation and no longer having to live in their in-laws' homes.

***

LMAO, how many statuses do these mistresses that the wife is forced to support even have?

Fuck off with this bullshit.

***

MINGLAN, ARE YOU SERIOUS

***

LMAO, wait, what?

They accused him of raping this woman?

Speechless.

Gu Tingye, please take your wife and fuck off from this place.

***

LMAO, Gu Tingye keeps making good life choices!

Gu Tingye is not among my favourite characters by a long stretch, but I do appreciate him so very much!

Go, king! Protect your wife and stay winning!!

***

Don't you just love it when utterly disgraceful people start blathering about not getting the respect they feel entitled to 🙄

Gross family.

[rainbowgod666]

Welcome to the Multiverse

Colors sendable (the first image is from @sizzlingcandyjellyfishhh while thesecond image is from @gaybichon), and also the @wynmu vibes thing. While the divider was made by @sister-lucifer (weird url ik but mines weirder soooo)

To all RPers: my very existence takes the narrative and uses it as toilet paper. The 4th wall is my onahole. You can use the askbox to talk to your blorbos.

To let you get started, here are some of my best posts. Remember that the Ourple ones are KINDA mandatory if you want ANY background on wtf is this blog.

List of my powers / Its the end of the world as you know it (and i did it on purpose) / an admin kicked me off the island lmao / Mental Health Time / That one time i traumadumped to mewo omori about my usual shit / PM Seymour has removed me from his internet. / You Absolute Buffoons / The Numeron Game / Well thats a thing that happened! / Out of touch: leap yeap / 🅱️usiness / Magnus did nothing wrong, except its steven universe / welcome to the internet, SCP edition / #HALLOLLAH# / AMERICA IS FASCIST HEAVEN BECAUSE FUNNY / Lost Childhoods / please save those poor gay americans / Free Disco Elysco / Bone to the bad / Priting Wrojects / the True Range of my abilities / the fuck's an apocalypse knight anyway? / @punkitt-is-here fucked Geronimo Stilton and i think its a good thing / Alex goes batshit insane and forces everyone to do as he says... again 🙄 / Screaming in a Pattern. / wizardposting: because powerscaling needed fuckign Zeno Dragonballsuper apparently / BEN 10 BUT LANCER? FUCK YEAH! / So i went batshit insane again / High Geology / fantasy settings on tumblr are really fucking cool actually / RIFLE. IS. FINE. BUT YOU FUCK UP DESIGN YOU UROD. / i technically claimed ownership of Dr. Bright and Betty from glitchtale do you seriously think im NOT gonna do that for homestuck? / XenasOuch / SCP-8000 contest, OR: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUC- / LEMMINO but like, 8 years ago / Hazbin Hotel: a necessary... something i guess. / the original joke was my brain yapping about predators sooo...

Below is who i am, and also the tags you can (and should) search for

Hi, name's Alex.

Born on the first ever day of 2005 and also having aspergers, i am a guy from italy trying to make it impossible for anyone to spend a day without knowing who i am. Also i literally trascend powerscaling so hard the only things that can even put a DENT on me are... decided by me. Welcome to the multiverse i guess.

DNI: people who support genocide, people who tolerate corporate bullshit, racists, and terfs.

The following list is ALL THE TAGS USED TO NAVIGATE THIS BLOG. Seriously. This masterpost is an explaiantion for the "portal hub" i placed in the search bar

Lore Post: sometimes the lore of the multiverse, sometimes my personal life.

Welcome to the multiverse: sometimes MASSIVE textpost telling everyone "oh yeah right, this dude has autism", usually me existing. tHE MAIN TAG.

Alex's Answering Machine: literally my asks

The magical workshop: turns out the wizards of tumblr are the reason the phrase "some of y'all have gotten too comfortable saying stuff without getting punched for it" exist. And its up to my autistic, protagonism-fueled low self-esteem high self-awareness ass to... fix shit up.

Belowstory: undertale but REALLY FUCKED UP: so basically frisk falls down and is greeted by a feminine voice that calls itself chara (it becomes slightly visible after getting out of the ruins) and like the good boi undertale character he is he proceeds to save the world. This entire thing exists because one time I was like "how fucked up OP can a sans be before its My Immortal levels of wtf?" And uh yeah here we are uuuuuuh sans greets you by pointing a .44 magnum at you so thank the head of the guards (papyrus) for saving you. Everyone here is broken and just wants A Fucking Break. Also you gain levels in pacifist because LOVE is Level Of VirtuE. Fuck you lmao

Undertale.exe: so I looked at Camilla Cuevas being an awful person. Then i looked at the beautiful anime that is @jakei95's underverse... then i smushed it all toghether to basically create the perfect AU. Frisk is a pansexual fuccboi that Has Game, Chara is THICC and powerful, Betty is built like a ballerina and is 1000 years old, and Asriel is a Streemur. All of them live in this house far away from the city thats literally a larger version of sans' house. All charachters can legally drink (prepare for Drunk Chara shenanigans where its Betty Glitchtale the drunk one instead) and the only one who (probably) isnt gay is Asriel (even though frisk covets the Dreemur Dong) (one day soldier, one day...). Many chatachters from many AUs sometimes come to visit cause, you know. Its a nice place.

Curseworld: massive writing project of mine which is just "adventure time shaped mass of autism". The world is cursed and fucked over, and everything is colorful. Its also part Owl House because fuck you the magic system is FUCKED here.

Internet friends: basically internet stereotype-shaped people. We have a furry thats normal, a reddit/discord mod that just wants to work in peace, and the protagonist is Just A Guy but a-ha! He has both an xbox an...d ps5 thus fucking over any CAD reference. The last sketch i made was a mr.monopoly shaped guy who really wants youngsters to actually AFFORD shit who is married to a very obvious reference to Meru the succubus. Also i 100% intend to put a gag about mr beast living in an ATM when he isnt making videos

Im looking respectfully: look. Back then tumblr was basically Rule 34 with twitter users. Now its way better at the cost of a fraction of their value. Have fun looking at attactive women!

TOH:NEXT GENERATION: not even @moringmark's comics are safe! Enjoy the adventures of ayzee commented by me... telling everyone that shes STRONG strong. Like holy shit girl inherited will much?

Warhammer 50k: listen. This is just me looking at games workshop and fucking emperors tts and going "fuck that. Heres mine". This is a project where my "shard" assegned to this universe basically copies the imperium because, and im not joking, "the emperor is kind of a baka, but then again tzeentch is a thing so...". Also btw TTS is canon as SHIT. Like fr its all canon. Yes even the shadowsun fling, let kitten rest.

Pluripotent Impotence: an scp canon of mine thats basically "the foundation is so cold and clinical they MASSIVELY misunderstood shit". 6140, 6500, 5500 and 7000 are canon. 2718 and 5000 are in the files but they basically might as well not exist. 3812 is living tech support. 166 is in her early 20s and 239 is 19 and they fuck nasty (theyre also childhood friends. Girl Love i guess~) because fuck you clef love wins especially yuri go snort telekill dust. 2317 loves humans and thins theyre cute and squishy and when its seventh child turned out to be fucking JoyBoy? Yeah get this: he DID condemn the fortune teller that was like "dude your sevent child is one of those prophecy children that are so in vogue these days" but also messed with fate so that her death ended up being the coolest and most inspiring shit ever because he was like "considering the average Evil King story, i might as well just... let this happen! Maybe i can convince my literal offspring to spare me!" And it fucking worked. Also a bunch of shit is canon. @i-am-dado looks like a Kpop star and is somft. Dr Jack bright is my character and mine alone and also elias shaw is there i guess. My OC bangs the first one of these 2 amulet boys on a regular basis and the second one occasionally, dont ask why is there a gay polycule when im straight, there are some things that escape my mind. I have been in SCP for a long time and regardless of me making my account 6/1/2024 (LA BEFANAH) i have been here longer than you believe in. From my perspective it took a year before a 5000 contest was announced, so fcuk yoyu

Earth-ℵ₀: the best way to take care of the DC and Marvel universes is... let an autistic dude fix damages done by money-hungry idiots in hollywood. The joker is unimportant. Dr.Manhattan is Done With This Shit. I made a squad with random charachters i like. Lmao suck on uranium rods UwU

ytposting: (Funkdela Catalogue: Encounter starts playing)

Omni-shit: ben 10 is actually a good series guys, and the reboot is an interesting way of showing what would Ben 10 Classic look like if it was made Now

1% enhancement: basically i look at something and go like "hey what if the charachters were basically part me but not in a Knights of the Apocalypse way"

Tumblr italia: aò sono italiano che cos'altro vi aspettate

components: basically i use tumblr as image hosting. LoL.

Items: images turned undertale items. For reference, i have 2³¹-1 HP and my stats are ATK 100000 and DEF 65535. Yes the attack is a yugioh zexal reference. NOSTALGIA IS PTSD BUT GOOD.

Mungeon Deshi: dunmeshi is a good anime and marcille is italian

Full Nelson Analchemist: if FMA exists in my presence im going to give the 20k mg weed gummy to Truth

Evangelion 4.0: look, hideki anno has gone insane. Every time he makes evangelion as the most brain damaging version of telling someone to go touch grass people inevitably miss the point. I take it upon myself to give the @jakei95 treatment to the poor creatures (also fun fact: KAWOSHIN CANON. THEY KISS ON SCREEN. FUCK YOU AMERICA.)

The hoes are stuck: homestuck. What you thought they were safe from my grasp? 人間 you havent seen sheiße.

FeeF the BeeB: minecraft mod bullsheiße

[[Nothing Is Worth The Risk]]: lets just say that sometimes, the multiverse isnt that "cool and good"

Ultimate Sonic: i have a Sonic AU where... uhm... just. If i have a post about that. Just look at it. LoL.

Multiverse Polls: i make tHEM-

Autistic and Artistic: (draws happily)

Side effects of reading this blog can vary between true insight into the inner workings of the universe and self-defenestration from the top of the burj khalifa.

Anyways welcome to the multiverse

Do yourself a favour and dont go out without a loaded gun.

[mygloviesme]

cool about it, eleven years later. || myg

no. 1 of 3: not strong enough to be your man

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: eleven years later, kanako lives in nyc with her childhood best friend keiko. bts have become a household name that floods her every day life, and she's learned to ignore it. after years of moving on from those months she spent with the seven boys, she finds herself in a good place. what happens after one fateful night she finally runs into faces she's tried so hard to run away from?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 4.5k

genre: ANGST, fluff, melodrama,

chapter warnings: mentions of mental health, drinking, smoking

inspo song: cool about it by boygenius

JULY 9TH, 2023, 12:12PM

ELEVEN YEARS LATER

Bright. Everything is way too bright. I groan and flip over my side, unable to ignore the throbbing in my head. I feel Keiko shove my side, “Koko, wake up. It’s noon.” She says. I lift my head to peak above the white comforter, squinting as I see her sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I got way too fucked up last night.” I muffle under the sheets. 

“Yeah I think you’re getting too old for that.”

“Tellmeaboutit.” 

I definitely cannot handle my liquor the same way I could in my twenties. Ages twenty to twenty four was filled with sprite vodkas. And as I got older, just smelling alcohol made me hunch over and gag. But last night was different. I had been taking advantage of the connections I still have from being an idol so many years ago, getting invited to various up-scale parties and soirees. Some are fancy, some are trashy. Most of them being held by washed up celebrities that wanted everybody and anybody to come rager with them. 

But lately K-pop has been on the rise so my name get’s brought up every once in a while. They ignore the controversy that’s stapled to my name, instead calling me an ‘icon’ and ‘so ahead of your time.’ It would be more flattering if my past hadn’t been so chaotic. 

“I brought you a breakfast sandwich.” She says and tosses me the paper-wrapped food item. The smell of egg radiates off of it though, which in turn makes me jump from the bed and to the bathroom. I collapse onto the floor and grip the toilet, gross I know but I’m too old to be embarrassed anymore, my throat pushing out chunky acid. 

“Oh honey.” Keiko comforts me as she holds my hair up. I spit up the remaining vomit that sat in my mouth and lean myself on the bathroom wall, holding my knees. “Jesus.” I breathe. 

“Didn’t mean to trigger that.” She apologizes. 

“It’s okay, I’m actually starving but I don’t think I can consume anything.”

She brings over a glass of water from the counter, “Maybe you should try this.” She says sarcastically. I roll my eyes as I take the cup, downing the whole thing. My throat is scratchy and painful but I use that as another reason to finish it. 

She sighs and flushes the toilet for me, plopping the lid down and taking a seat on it. She messes with her fingers, obviously holding something back. She’s usually a very chatty person no matter the circumstances. So the fact that she hasn’t made a joke or a comment about this current situation makes me sure she has something to say. 

“What is it?” I mumble.

She perks her head up, pretending to be confused. I know her too well. “What do you mean?”

“Keiko. Spit it out. Or I’ll do it for you, on your feet.” I threaten playfully. I’m not very nervous to hear what she has to say, knowing it can’t be all that bad. It’s probably work, or maybe even “weird Charlie” the guy that texts her once in a while to hook up. I let out a soft ‘ugh’ and make a grossed-out expression, “Did you hook up with Charlie? Keiko, I told-”

“They released a book. Today. And they talk about you. Jungk- uh- he does.”

No fucking way. 

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I bought it. Sorry. It was a good thirty-something dollars though, and they actually go in depth about their trainee-”

I nudge her leg with my hand aggressively, “Show me! Now!” I shout. 

“Jeez, okay! Hold on.” She pulls out her phone and swipes through it for a couple minutes. She winces as she clicks on something, “Okay, just don’t freak out.” 

I shake my hand so she could hand me her phone, which she does.

 “I highlighted the-”

“Shh!”

I read it reluctantly. 

Jungkook: I met Kanako back in 2012. She was very sweet and a bit reserved, but we grew to be very close friends. We all hung out with her constantly during that hard time. She was there for us and we were there for her. It was a very beneficial dynamic with nothing in-between. I know she wanted to continue her education and we all respected that. I do miss her at times, and I hope she’s doing well. 

“Nothing in between…” I whisper as I bring my hand down to the floor. It would be a lie to say I never thought about them. Or Yoongi. That would be the biggest lie I’ve ever told. But it’s been so, so long. In a way, I’ve moved on. 

What made it all harder was their faces plastered on so many billboards and posters and Youtube ads and- 

You get it. Once that began in 2017, it was brought back to the surface. All the calls I ignored, all the times they did concerts here and I stayed in bed all day knowing I could buy a ticket the same day. Never reaching out. Mourning the life that never was, then feeling the shame that I couldn’t let go. In my darkest hours I still wish I was there. But I would never admit that, maybe not even to my therapist. It’s all so juvenile. 

And they’re different now. Much different than when I knew them. I saw Jungkook’s tattoos just a while ago and couldn’t recognize him. He’s not a boy anymore. Not the one I knew, not physically. And Yoongi…

“I know honey. It’s awful.” 

“I guess the NDA expired four years ago, but since they never said anything I just thought it wouldn’t come up. I hoped it wouldn’t. Did anyone else say anything?” I ask, knowing she knew who exactly I was talking about. 

She shakes her head, “He didn’t.”

I press my back into the wall and exhale, “This cannot be happening right now.”

Keiko stands and seats herself next to me, placing a hand on mine. She knows how I get, we’ve lived together for so long. I don’t think anyone has known me better than her besides my mom. And you know who. 

“I know, Koko. But think about it, they probably just wanted to say something once and for all. Nothing attached.”

I look at her with a guilty face, “Is it bad if I wish there was? Something attached, I mean.”

She hums, “Maybe not. But it doesn’t change anything. Let’s leave the past alone, yeah?”

I hang my head low and nod. She knows what I want but especially what I need. It was an ongoing thing for the first few years I lived with her. Constant panic attacks and days where I wouldn’t move from my bed. The day they released their first album and I replayed their performances over and over again. When I thought they took out ‘Just One Day’, just for it to be released later. That day was horrible. 

I don’t think I can admit how many times I played that song. If it were now, it would be my number one played song in my spotify wrapped. 

Don’t even get me started when they released ‘Butterfly.’ Let’s just say that song is forever banned in our house, along with the rest of them. Any mention of those three letters and I need to be dragged out and tranquilized. 

That’s why I like to mind my own. Go to work, ignore the billboards. Scroll on my phone, ignore their instagrams. Turn on the TV, ignore their performances. 

When I heard about Jin enlisting and Hoseok joining later on, I wanted to call them. To ask how they were. It’s been too long. I’ve never mustered the courage the past eleven years and now it just feels pointless. 

But I still have their number. I still have them all memorized in my head and written down on old sticky notes that collect dust in my closet. 

“We still have that thing to go to tonight.”

“Somi’s birthday party?”

“Yup.”

Fuck.

JULY 9TH, 2023, 8:00PM

I finish my makeup off with a shiny lip gloss, my staple for four years now. I don’t like change necessarily, and smelling the familiar fruity scent brings comfort. Or trauma, thinking of all the nights I would smear it on my lips after vomiting for ten minutes straight in a random club bathroom. 

Me and alcohol have a complicated relationship. Some would say it was teetering over alcoholism, I would call it a phase. It was my twenties, what can I say?

“You look amazing.” Keiko says as she walks through the bathroom door. She lifts up her skirt to take a quick pee, “No underwear again?” I laugh as I watch her roll her eyes. 

“This is the first night in a while I’m not being chained to the corporate desk. Let’s just say I hope I get lucky.” She says and finishes up. I shake my head playfully and scoot over the bathroom counter so she can wash her hands. I analyze my outfit once more, shimmying my top up so I can get a little more coverage. Everything about my body has changed since eighteen, obviously. 

I keep an anti-chafe stick in my purse if that tells you anything. That second-puberty in your twenties does exist, unfortunately. 

Keiko pouts as she turns around to look at her butt, “I thought this skirt would make me look perkier.” 

I tilt my head to her butt and back to the mirror, “I think it does.” I say in my humble opinion. Keiko is a sight for sore eyes, she always has been. She would be one of those people that you consider to age like fine wine. And she has been experimenting with lip filler, but hey. If you have the money, why not?

I pucker my lips and look down to my phone, flashing a notification indicating our Uber has arrived. “Our ride is here, let’s go.” I urge her. I grab my purse and toss my lip gloss inside, rushing to the door. She huffs, “You’re acting like I was the one spending an hour doing my makeup.” 

I glare at her as I open the door, “Not every twenty-nine year old still has that youthful glow you do. Ms. Just Some Concealer and Gel Brows.” I tease. We speed-walk down the hall and I can feel her irritated energy, “You were an idol in South Korea. I don’t wanna hear it!” She exclaims. 

I giggle to myself and we hurry down the stairs of our semi-nice apartment complex. It definitely beats the one we first lived in, but New York is an expensive place to live in. Even with Keiko’s old money background. She’s tried to let go of their help with monthly payments, as we’re nearly thirty and it’s a little embarrassing now. This place will drain your pockets like it’s no one’s business so…she still asks for money now and then. 

We take the elevator down to the parking garage, seeing the Uber we soon jump into. Tonight calls for a drink or two, especially with the news I got earlier. So no driving for the both of us. 

Maybe I’ll even meet someone new. Or two. You never know, right?

JULY 9TH, 2023, 9:02PM

With the busy NYC traffic, we make it an hour later than expected. The birthday party is being held in a private club in Soho, so I know me and Keiko are in for a treat. I have less anxiety being around other celebrities and social climbers, most of them not knowing who I am anyway. But lately I’ve been getting noticed a lot more lately, even some paparazzi stop to take my photo at times. 

Small articles pop up here and there with my name in it, and I can’t even imagine what they’ll look like tomorrow morning. The three-lettered boy group I used to know being a household name at this point. I have mixed feelings about it, but mostly happiness. Thinking of how stressed they were about their success, only to make it to Western audiences. Even getting a grammy nomination. I was tuned in, not going to lie. 

They should’ve gotten it, but anyway. 

I don’t think I wanna think about them tonight, so Keiko and I head to the bar as soon as we get in. The lights are pretty low, making it hard to see faces that clearly. I feel a hand on my arm, turning around to see the one and only Somi. 

“You guys made it!” She shouts over the loud music. She takes us both in a big hug, giggling and yelping. She’s definitely had a few drinks. 

“Yes, of course.” I smile at her. She gestures to the bartender, “Shots! Let’s get fucked up!” She screams. I see Keiko flinch slightly, giving me a nervous grin in response to the young girl's enthusiasm. I only laugh playfully as the bartender places three small cups in front of us, filled to the brim with what I assume to be vodka. 

Somi doesn’t wait a second to grab her glass, waiting for us to follow. Me and Keiko do so reluctantly but excited nonetheless. “One, two, now!” Somi giggles and we all drink down the burning liquid. 

Keiko slams her glass down and makes a sour face, Somi expressionless. It must be her age. I think it's barely legal for her to drink in the US. 

I put my glass on the table and Somi kisses both Keiko and I on the cheek, “Kay, I’m gonna go dance and stuff. Have fun, there’s loads of people here! And by the way, I think some special guests are gonna arrive. So keep an eye out!” She squeals and runs away before I can ask exactly who. 

Keiko chuckles, “I think she’s talking about Mark and stuff.”

“From NCT?” I furrow my brows. I can’t keep up.

Keiko nods, “I’ve been texting her and she tells me they’ve been talking.” 

I jolt my head back in shock, “That’s kind of risky.”

Keiko shrugs as she hands me my drink, this time a mixed cocktail. “Idols are crazy nowadays.”

It makes me think about him. I think idols have always taken risks. I did. 

I sigh and turn to the crowd of people chatting and dancing. There’s some familiar faces, but when are there not? This time it’s more relevant celebrities, ‘it’ girls as the tabloids call them. A part of me misses being that young, but I think I appreciate my age more now. I know more, I react maturely. I’m doing great for the most part. Although I’ve been aching for some action with any guy for a while now. Emphasis on any guy. It calls for some shaming from Keiko, but I’ll leave that for after the damage is done. 

Keiko is handed her own drink and nods to the dance floor, “C’mon, let’s have fun.” She gives me a smile and I go along happily. We walk towards the mass, seeing all kinds of bodies rocking against each other. The deeper you get in with celebrities, the more erotic and messy it seems to get. Don’t ask the stories I’ve heard. 

Keiko grabs me closer and we sway with each other to the music. The bass is deafening and I only hope chugging my drink makes it more bearable. It’s salty and sweet and blazing, amplifying the feeling of this hot club. There’s something about being in a crowded group. We all have the same mission, the same motive. We’re all dancing in clothes that cost as much as our overpriced rent, spilling drops of liquor and bodily fluid on the material without a care. 

It’s a nasty headspace, but it’s so addicting to get caught in. Especially when it’s just me and Keiko, not needing a man but only each other. I was the one who introduced her to nightlife and she was very hesitant at first. She wasn’t used to the lights or the drinks but just like me, once she got into a groove, the right drink, the right people, we didn’t stop. Every Saturday till 4am we’d be out. And that was for a few years straight. 

Once you vomit mid-way into every night out, it becomes more of a relief. Because that means you can just keep going. Bad habit or not, it was so fucking fun. 

But now we’re nearly thirty. We pace ourselves like responsible adults. Most of the time. 

“Do you want another drink?” I ask as I see we’ve drunk both of ours in a matter of fifteen minutes on this dance floor. Keiko grins mischievously, “You know me so well Koko.” She shouts in my ear. I laugh and grab the glass in her hand, rethinking leaving her here. 

“Uh, actually come with me. Don’t want some grimy guy to come up to you.”

She nods in agreement and we both snake ourselves out of the flock of sweaty bodies. The bar glows in front of us with isles of liquor, waiting to be sipped on. Keiko turns to me as we wait for the bartender to finish up with someone else’s drink, “I saw a guy I liked.”

I raise my brows, “Is that so? Who?”

She peaks over my shoulder, “I mean I can’t really see what he looks like because of how fucking dark it is, but it’s that one over there.” She points slightly. 

I try to slyly look to who she’s referencing, seeing a man with a loose short-sleeved button up and an arm filled with tattoos. His head is leaned over as he’s talking to another man and I give Keiko a look. 

“What?” She throws her hands in the air. 

“I mean his body is nice but I didn’t think you were wanting a-”

“Shh, he’s coming over here! Wait-” She covers her mouth in shock. 

I widen my eyes from her alarming expression, “What is it?”

“Kanako don’t fucking look. DON’T LOOK.” She insists. I grow frustrated from her demands and keep my head down, per her ask. I feel an approaching presence, a voice speaking.

 “Gin, neat.” It says. A man. 

I lean over to Keiko who’s attempting to hide her face. “Is it the guy? Why can’t I look?” I do a whisper/yell type thing as I talk. 

She winces, “Just wait for him to leave.”

The female bartender walks over to us, waiting for our drink order. I notice Keiko’s silence and the impatient bartender, lifting my head once and for all to speak. Keiko shakes her head vigorously with her eyes closed like she can’t bear to watch. I don’t understand why she’s so afraid. And quite frankly, it’s getting annoying. 

“Two vodka cranberries.” I say. 

There’s a beat of quietness. 

“Kanako?” The man next to me says. I turn my head unexpecting a big reveal, but to my surprise, it is. A big one. One that I don’t want. He’s so different. His hair is long, his body is taller and so much bigger than I remember. It’s him, it’s him. Fuck, it’s him. Eleven years later. 

My jaw drops as I make eye contact with him. “Jungkook.” 

He’s as appalled as I am, saying nothing for what feels like hours. His eyes scan my body, my face, my eyes. “You- I haven’t- what…are you doing here?” He chokes out. 

I stutter, “W-We- I’m with my friend. Keiko. We know…Somi.” I respond, the information feeling so irrelevant as it rolls off my tongue. There’s so many things I want to say, and yet nothing comes to mind. What should I do? Apologize? Talk to him like an old friend? Look at Keiko for help?

Jungkook moves his shoulder to reveal the man next to him, Namjoon. 

This can’t get any worse. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Call me if you…need me.” Keiko leans into my ear to say. I try to nod but my body refuses to move. I don’t necessarily need her here, but It makes me feel stranded. I can’t say anything. All I can think about is eleven years ago. Their faces were so different. The way they carried themselves was so different. They’re global artists now, but when I look at Jungkook I still see that young glimmer he used to have. Even Namjoon, whose shoulders are broader than they were, somehow morphs into the smaller boy I knew then. 

“L-Let’s go outside. It’s quieter.” Jungkook requests. 

JULY 9TH, 2023, 10:06PM

We stand outside the club doors awkwardly. Jungkook grabs a carton of cigarettes and pulls one out, lighting it as it sits between his teeth. That’s new. He holds the white stick in his fingers and takes a long inhale, exhaling into the summer air. 

Namjoon is staring off into the road. Quiet. They’re both quiet. 

“How’ve you guys been?” I whisper. Everything I want to say sounds so stupid in the big scheme of things. I feel so small again. So insecure again. Old Kanako.

“You know.” He says, referencing their current status. It sounds kind of dick-ish, but I shrug it off. I don’t blame him for being mad. Although it’s been so long. 

I keep getting a phantom buzz in my back pocket. When I first moved here, I’d get calls from Jungkook every morning and every night. Ignored, ignored, ignored. He stopped after a few months, but the feeling still haunts me. Witnessing my phone light up and expecting to see his name was a thing for me. A thing I’d go over in therapy. 

I always said I’d pick up one day, but when that day came, he stopped calling. 

“I’m sorry.” I say in the midst of the quietude. Stating the unspoken obvious. 

“Don’t be sorry.” Jungkook responds, flicking the ash off his cigarette. Passive.

“I still am.” I mumble. 

Namjoon turns over to me, still hiding behind Jungkook in a way. His arm leans onto the brick wall, “We’ve been wondering about you.”

I chuckle, “Yeah, I read your book.” 

Jungkook takes a hit off his cigarette, “I didn’t really say that. It was the ghostwriter.” Aggressive.

Thanks. 

“Oh. Right.” I whisper. 

“Jungkook.” Namjoon mutters to the apathetic boy. 

Jungkook shrugs, “Sorry. I’m over it now.” Doesn’t feel like it. 

“What he means to say,” Namjoon gives him a look, “Is that we’ve moved on. And grown. Don’t feel bad. We now know how hard it was for you.” He tries to reassure. But I know it’d take Jungkook a while to say the same. I try not to take it personally, but all I can think about is how he’d cling to me at night. How he used to sip on his banana milk and console me with kind words. I shouldn’t expect that in the least. But it hurts either way.

“I understand, it’s okay. It’s complicated, right?” I say. 

“Right.” Namjoon smiles. His dimples, I remember those. 

“Yoongi’s doing fine, if that’s what you were wondering.” Jungkook says under his breath.

I shut my eyes, sighing. I try to level with him, “I wonder about all of you. But thanks.” I accidentally match his passive tone.

The tattooed boy tosses his cigarette on the ground, smushing it under his shoe. 

“Then why didn't you reach out?” He spits. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth. One that trickles down to my throat and almost triggers a chunky reaction. 

“JK, not now-” Namjoon starts but Jungkook has a motive. 

“No, Namjoon.” Jungkook whips his head towards me, “I’m still hurt. Yes, after all these years. Seeing you Kanako,” He bites his lip anxiously. “I wish you had fucking picked up. Just once.”

My lip quivers seeing him in this state. Small, like me. There’s tears pricking his eyes. 

“I couldn’t.”

“Why not? Tell me!”

“It would’ve made it all harder!”

He steps inches closer to me, his lip ring shining under the street lights. He’s so foreign to me, but his eyes stay familiar. An unwanted nostalgia floods my heart and crushes it under his gaze. 

“You don’t even know.” He whispers. 

I plead with him, “Then tell me.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw, “Fuck it. Fuck everything. Fuck you.”

He storms back into the club, shoulder-checking me in the process. I stand idle, in shock. In pain. He would’ve never said that to me. Not in a million years. Am I that horrible of a person? 

Namjoon walks over to me quickly, caressing my shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry, he’s just-”

“Hurt. I know. I know.” I say in disbelief. 

His hand stands on my arm, looking at me intently. But I can’t look at him, it’s all so hard now. Everything is coming back to me. Locked up in those dorms, Jeju, the first time I’ve ever been to a club. How quickly it ended. How quick it was for me that I left. I know I shouldn’t be mad at Jungkook, or any of them. But I feel like the teenager I was back then when Namjoon comforts me. It reminds me of those times when they’d be there for me. 

How hard it was for me to accept care from Keiko because all I wanted was them. It wasn’t the same. The smells weren’t the same. The lingering bickering was my background music. I adjusted to it so well just to leave. I can’t think about this anymore. 

I hear a ringing and Namjoon removes his hand to reach into his jacket pocket, stuttering a ‘I-I just need a second, hold on’ before walking a few steps ahead to answer the call. All I hear is a faint voice on the phone and a hasty Namjoon. 

“Yeah I know. He’s upset. I’ll talk to you about it later. Me? I’m outside. N-No don’t come, it’s not a good time. I know, but just a second. Hold on, don’t-”

The metal doors of the club open once more, a woman in a two-piece set strutting out with someone close behind. As if this night couldn’t get any worse. Reminding me of the broken pieces I had to put back into place. It’s all shattering again. 

I purse my lips in a thin line and turn my back as soon as I see him. Long haired, bomber-jacket, black jeans, him. I hope he doesn’t see me. Namjoon rushes over to me in an attempt to hide my body. 

“S-Sorry. Busy. In the middle of something.” The tall man blurts out. 

It failed though, because he knows. My silhouette, my hair. 

Like instinct. Nothing’s changed. 

“Kanako.” The oh-so familiar man breathes.

Keiko has been calling me Koko for so long that hearing my full name from him, his mouth, causes a chain reaction of goosebumps all over me. The alcohol that was seeping into my conscience has disappeared as my heart beats a thousand times a minute. 

“Yoongi.”

click here to read more of this story!

an: as this story comes to a close soon I’d love to answer any questions you have wondered about this story! or me! or anything at all! just go to my ask box and ask away! or don’t! that’s ok too! love you all! thanks for reading

[marzmeltdown]

Familiar Taste of Poison - PT. 1

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: fluff,, angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW:Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, mentions of depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, a lot of this will be in multiple pov's(I will clarify when it changes pov's), some mention of being sick, swearing ⌦ Word count: 1.43k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: I got the name for this from another rock band. This chapter is a bit shorter than what I'd normally write, but there will also be more than one part, so hopefully that makes up for it. Sorry to anyone named Chelsea, it was the first name I thought of. If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ Since this series has some very heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse, I will be attaching a link to a website with help hotlines around the world. ⌦ International Mental Health hotlines ⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ (Reader's POV) Cold laminate pressed itself against your cheek as your world spun inside the confines of a small half bath in some house owned by someone you didn't know, in a location you had never been to. The toilet that lied next to you to accompany you in your faded state stood in place to catch any of the waste that you poured into it. Groaning, you grabbed your phone from the spot next to your head, the group chat you'd shared with a few friends having been a ghost town since you asked for their help in the bathroom. The last message you'd read was your own, and your friends seemed to ignore your frantic messages for help as the contents inside your stomach found their way back into your mouth.

Despite feeling as though you were on an amusement park ride that spun itself fast enough to press your body to the metal you'd been standing against, you sat up, the screen of your phone feeling like a thousand flightlights were being shown in your eyes, causing you to squint. The sound of a notification rang through your ears. Quickly, you opened it after seeing that it was a message sent to your group chat.

⌦ You: Can you guys come into the bathroom? I don't feel good (read 2:54 am)

⌦ You: Please? (read 3:00 am)

⌦ 3:35 am

⌦ Chelsea: We went home; you'll have to find a way back to your place (read: 3:45 am).

"Fuck!" You cried, throwing your phone against the wall, and brought your knees to your chest to comfort yourself as you cried into your hands. There was a bang against the locked bathroom door, shaking you out of wallowing in your own self-pity. You had every right to be upset; however, these friends leave you high, drunk, and stranded all the time. At some point, you have to start facing the truth, but today wouldn't be that day.

The bang repeated itself, rushing you to your feet as you grabbed your phone from the floor. They banged against the door one last time, and you opened the door with a huff before pushing past the girl, who looked just about as fucked up as you were. You needed fresh air and a caring shoulder to cry on. Stepping outside, you sat down on the front steps of the house, staring down at your now cracked phone screen, pondering whether or not you should call him.

Before you knew it, you had clicked on his contact and pressed that blue call button under his contact photo. You chewed at the skin on your thumb nervously as the phone rang.

it rang

and rang

and rang

Only on the fourth ring did he finally pick up, giving you a half-awake greeting of something that sounded vaguely like a hello.

"Wonwoo, did I wake you?" You asked, and you could tell that you had, but he lied and said you hadn't anyway.

"What do you need?" He asked, and the sounds of him moving around followed his question.

"I know it's late, but would you pick me up? My friends left me stranded at some party; I don't know where I am, and I'm scared." You began to cry again. You couldn't tell if it was because you were stranded or because you knew for a fact that this was going to happen again. Your words slurred from your sobs and drunken state, but it seemed that Wonwoo knew exactly what you said by the sounds of his keys rattling in his hand.

⌦ (Wonwoo's POV) The sound of Wonwoo's phone filling the room pulled the man out of his slumber. He groaned as he debated whether or not he should answer it. There was only one person who would call him at this time, and it was his childhood best friend. He knew that if he didn't answer, you would wake up in some bathroom somewhere with no memory of how you got there. He didn't bother rolling over; instead, he reached behind him to play some game of claw where his phone was the reward.

Bringing the phone to his face, he squinted as he looked at the caller ID, swiping the button to answer the phone before pressing it to his ear. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he began to speak.

"Hello?" He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose to force the sleep from his head as he listened to you speak, begging for him to pick you up for the second time this week.

"Yeah, send me your location, and I'll be right there," he said groggily as he slipped his glasses onto his face, getting up from his bed to grab his shoes, sweater, and keys. His heart sank into his stomach when you asked him to stay on the phone until he got there; he agreed and locked his apartment as he left.

The drive to where you'd been essentially abandoned was quiet, apart from your soft sobs and the rain that had started as soon as Wonwoo began driving. When he pulled up to the house, the sight was kind of sad: one lonely person sitting on the porch of a house that was rattling from the loud bass coming from the speakers inside. The rain had drenched your clothes, and it was apparent that the chill from being soaked by a cold night's rain was the least of your problems.

"I'm here; I'm going to hang up now," Wonwoo said, hanging up the phone as he turned off his car. He slipped his sweater off while walking across the yard towards you. As soon as Wonwoo was at the steps, he leaned down to gently tap your shoulder, smiling weakly once you looked up at him. Wonwoo held you close when you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"Wonwoo, I'm so sorry to make you do this again," you cried, effectively soaking the already rain-soaked shirt he'd been wearing. He pulled away after a moment, putting his sweater in your hands.

"Of course I'd be here; have I ever not been there for you?" Wonwoo said as he led you to his car, opening the door for you before getting in once you'd slipped into the passenger seat.

⌦ (Reader's POV) The heat in Wonwoo's apartment was a nice contrast to the chilling rain you'd sat in for the better part of an hour. You tried to go to bed when Wonwoo gave you a change of clothes and enough water to fill two and a half water bottles, but lying in the dark in his living room only made you feel worse about yourself. The tears just kept coming, and you tried to silence your sobs so as not to wake the man who was gracious enough to loan you his clothes and a warm place to sleep for the hundredth time this month.

Staring at the ceiling caused your mind to fall down rabbit holes that you would have preferred to walk around, but the thoughts kept coming. Finally, you'd had enough and looked at the time on your phone.

⌦ 6:15 am

Sighing, you sat up and got up from the couch. The journey to Wonwoo's room felt like a game of operation as you maneuvered around objects to prevent any loud noises. Wonwoo's door was open just enough for you to peek your head in; he was sound asleep, his back turned to the door as he lied there.

Tiptoeing into his room, you gently tapped his shoulder, chewing the inside of your lip as you felt him begin to stir. It took another few taps for him to finally peep an eye open and turn toward you, sitting up on his elbow when he noticed the look of worry that was on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asked; his voice had been deeper from sleep, and his messy hair made him look oddly attractive.

"I couldn't sleep; could..could I stay in here tonight?" You asked, resting a knee on the edge of the bed. He looked at you for a moment, wondering if he were in a dream or not.

Your heart felt as though it were doing back flips when he scooted to the side and lifted the blanket for you to slide in. Just as he began to turn, you grabbed ahold of his arm to cuddle yourself into him. He hesitated for a moment before fully wrapping his arm around you.

Finally, you could sleep comfortably.

[pinkcherryblossomangel]

Away from myself

A follow up to AWAY FROM HOME

Bang Chan x reader

- it's eight months after the last chapter

- it's seven months since Y/N saw some nasty responses to rumours

- it's six months since she started spiralling

- five months since she stopped replying to his text

- four months since she stopped reading them

- three months since he stopped messaging

- two months since she stopped sleeping properly

- one day till she has to see him again.

STARING

Bang Chan

Han

Changbin

Y/N

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

TRIGGER WARNINGS

Depression

NSFW

Negative body image

Anxiety

Self-hatred

General poor mental health

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

His hand reaches up, grabbing mine out of his hair. Our finger interlock as he continues to explore.

My breath hitches at every change in direction.

The vibration of his giggles adding to the build up.

I glance down and see the smirk in his eyes.

The intense connection pushing me towards ~

I lurch awake. Panting, as sweat trickles down my back and forehead.

That didn't happen...

I wanted it more than anything, but that didn't happen.

I tear away my duvet and head to the bathroom. Walking down the dark hallway I know better than the back of my hand. It's been six months since I last spoke to Chris. And 3 months since he stopped trying to contact me.

Why do I always do this?

I always ruin everything good.

The cold water on my hands grounds me. The sensation reminding that this is what is real. The girl in the mirror is me. She is here. I am here.

"You okay sweetheart" my mums voice adds to the dawn birds song.

"Yeah just.."

"A bad dream?" She asks standing in the doorway. How do I answer this? Cause no. It wasn't a bad dream. It was an incredible one. One that reminded me of how utterly stupid I am.

"Yeah".

"Come here!" My mums embrace envelopes me in comfort. "Remember those bad dreams aren't really my love." I know that's the problem "and if they were I'd fight them off for you". She pinches my cheek like she did when I was a baby.

How can someone so full of love have made me?

"Now get back to sleep. Big day tomorrow!" Her excitement making me feel guilty for my lack.

"Do I have to go?!" I almost plead. She brushes my hair from my face.

"Y/N... my love yes. Yes you have to go! In two days time we will be in London. On a red carpet, at the premiere of your first every big film." The pride radiates off her. "My little girl" her eyes start to well, my follow in response. "Look at you living your dream! Being my little star!"

"I'm taller than you" I laugh between sobs.

"You'll always be my little girl." She switches in to PA mode, "Now go to bed, the train to London is at 9. And you have a call with your manager at 8."

"Love you mum"

"Love you too." She hugs me again "now move I need the toilet!"

************************************

I beat my alarm by five minutes. My dad always said to set it 20 minutes before the scheduled arrival, so when you fall asleep, you don't miss your stop.

I guess he had some good advice after all.

My phones buzzes but it's not the alarm.

It's him.

It's Chris.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckity.

Fuck.

I can't ignore him, tomorrow evening we'll be sat next to each other at the screening. Maybe I can ask Han to swap seats. Or is that too harsh? I just know that if his thigh touches mine...

Y/N, no. You can't do this. He deserves way better than you. Someone who could love him so much more than you can. You'll burden him. I love him too much to do that.

I'll check his message at the hotel. I pull my head phones and press shuffle.

Not now...

I haven't listen to them in months and now! The god damn universe hates me.

This will do. My eyes settle on the countryside flying past.

I need to be brave.

************************************

I thank the receptionist as she hands me the PR plan for the next two weeks.

First the London premiere, then to the La premiere and lastly off to Seoul for the Asian premiere. The 3racha soundtrack is highly anticipated there, so much so they changed to an even bigger venue than la.

From what I heard it will be worth the wait. Chan would come over to my room every night after filming to show me what they'd come up with. Each snippet better than the last.

Each night ending in a passionate embrace.

No.

Stop it.

I close my eyes as if that will make the images erase from my mind.

Shit his text. I can't just ignore it. Why am I hyping myself up to read a text? What is wrong with me. Jesus.

I chuck my phone on the couch next to the TV. What am I gonna say.

I'm sorry Chris, I didn't message you for 6 months because I saw one tweet about us being friends and how I'm a fat piece of shit and I started to spiral and haven't been able to look at any thing to do with stray kids since then!

Or maybe

I'm sorry Chris that I somehow tricked you into liking me in anyway possible, we should just pretend nothing ever happened between us. Pretend that everytime something good happens, it isn't immediately ruined because I can't tell him. And then i wallow in my own stupid self-pity.

Christ... he really dodged a bullet

Flopping down on the bed, i open the manila envelope to see who I'm paired with for the interviews. I'm guessing it'll be with Jack, my on screen boyfriend. Haven't spoken to him since we stopped filming. So that's another awkward re-meeting tomorrow.

But it's not Jack's name there. Or jenna or tash. No it's non of my fellow actors. It's the boys of 3racha.

I immediately dial my manager.

"Hey Julie, I just got my PR plan. It says I'm doing the press bracket with 3racha? I thought I'd be doing it with Jack? Or another actor?"

"Oh yes! I forgot to say this morning! Since there's been such buzz around the soundtrack, Ryan thought it'd be a great idea to have them in the interviews. And he said you got along so well he'd thought you enjoy it!" Of course he did. "Is everything good? Do you want me to ask if they can change it?"

"No its okay, I was just a bit surprised is all" I can't kick up a fuss. I don't want any drama. "I'll see you tomorrow Julie!

" Remember, your interviews start at 9 am. I'll be there at 11. And then 7pm it's the red carpet and at 9pm it's the screening."

"I know," I say, trying to emphasise how many times I've been over the plan. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you"

"Thank you Y/N! Now have a nice dinner and treat your mum to something nice!"

"Don't worry I will". I hang up.

I need to text chan back.

I am not ready.

Someone knocks at the door. I open it and he's there.

Christopher is there in front of me.

I can't control myself. I burst into tears.

"I guess we're hotel neighbours again" he smiles sadly.

[arinavah]

hi arina! how are u doing? i've read your life update before about how you may not be able to do art stuffs due to life circumstances, seeing you open your shop now really brightens my heart! i'm also an artist in a kind of tough situation where i dont have much choice and might have to give up drawing or have difficulty continuing. im wondering how you got thru it? your art updates give me strength and hope! but if u dont feel like sharing, i totally understand. hoping you best and thank you!!

I'm sorry I'm answering this so late, talking about my current life always ruins my mood. (this will be a long whining post, I'm very upset right now so I need to speak out)

Probably we are in different situations, unlike you, drawing is the only thing I can do now. I've  mentioned here before that my grandma had a stroke this summer, my parents live in another city, they come here from time to time. Me and grandma live in Moscow, sooooo, generally, disabled grandma is MY responsibility most of the time. Even though she's making some slow progress in recovering, she's still mostly bed ridden, she can't take care of herself, she can't get up from the bed without help, she barely walks, etc., etc. So we can't leave her alone, and taking care about such helpless person, 24/7 IS HARD. She can wake us up several times at night to go to toilet or whatever, during the day she always wants something and we have to serve her, it really exhaustes me. (I half jokingly say that I unexpectedly became mother of 76 y.o. child, but I've always been child-free, so guess what I'm feeling right now)

Good news: I have some time to draw. To be honest drawing is the only sphere of my life I still can control, it's the only thing bringing me joy. And thankfully some people buy my merch so I can earn some money even in these circumstanses.

Bad news: I lost all freedom I'd had, I can't go anywhere without hiring nurse, I have much less time for work and drawing, I can't properly relax after long day, in fact I can NEVER relax, I can't meet with friends, I can't travel, I have to cancel work trips. Even simple mandane things became very difficult and even impossible because of all these restrictions. I can't find proper words to describe how those restrictions of my freedom make me depressed and devastated, right now my mental health is the worst it's ever been. I cry almost every day, I became hysterical and agressive, I hate my life so much, that the mere thought of spending the rest of my youth living my family's life, not MY OWN LIFE makes me want to kms. At the moment I control nothing in my life, I can't decide where to live, what to do, where to go, absolutely nothing. Probably I will never find a partner, because dating in these life contitions is impossible. Probably I will die alone without any love and friends. Maybe my only destiny is to take care of disabled person.

I'm trying to accept the fact that my life's ended, that I won't have any freedom and any new people around me till she passes away or till one of my parents will take full charge of taking care of her (it will happen in 5 years or so, they have work to finish in another city).

I spend my days solving my family's problems, my grandma's health problems, selling some merch to earn money and drawing some silly things just to ✨feel something✨.  So me being able to draw something in difficult circumstanses is not some heroic thing, I'm not overcoming myself to make art desprite everything, what I'm doing is just...escapism... I want to get lost in my little drawings or in little stories for some time to forget about everything bothering me. Honestly, I'm very happy that I haven't lost ability to draw after everything happened to me this year.

Guys.... sorry for whining, but 2022 ruined my mental state completely... Political situation (fucking Russia 💀💀💀), family situation, I just feel so much hatered for this world, for this universe where none of my dreams will ever come true, where I control nothing, where I have to live someone else's life, where I have no freedom, where I have to be silent, where I have to look at my government's crimes and be silent, where I can't  plan anything, where I can't love who I want (yesterday they accepted "lgbt propaganda" ban law), where I have to live the rest of my life in the country I hate, with a government I hate, isolated, lonely, constricted, attached to disabled person.

My parents keep telling me it's temporary, they don't want me to be a nurse for the rest of my life, everything is gonna be okay, they will solve everything. I don't believe them. Maybe I'm overdramatising, maybe if I get a therapy I'll feel better and less pessimistic about my future, but for now... I feel terrible. So, if drawing makes me feel a little bit better, then I'll continue to draw.

[lesbianslovebts]

Negative vent post. Uplifting words welcomed.

My gramma had an open wound on her leg for a while that finally closed. But neither us nor the nurses who regularly came out to the house knew that staph had gotten into her blood. Then it got into her spine, so her back was killing her for several days at home. We had to help her out of bed one day, it was so bad. We got her into her wheelchair, and then she thought she could go to the bathroom by herself. Well, we were stupid to let her try. She fell between the toilet and the tub. 2 EMTs, a cop, and like 6 firefighters came to drag her out of the house and ambulance her down to the hospital. On top of the existing back pain, she had a compression fracture from the fall. We found out about all the other stuff then, too.

She was in the hospital for about 2 weeks getting serious IV antibiotics to clear out the infection in her blood. They put a PICC line in for her to continue receiving intravenous antibiotics for 6 more weeks to clear out the infection from her spine. My mom had to fight the staff on multiple occasions to keep them from sending her home. Finally, they sent her to a transitional care unit where she would continue getting the antibiotics and start physical therapy. Except the TCU fucked up her warfarin dosage and made her INR skyrocket to 12. (Her blood was dangerously thin.) She went back to the hospital according to protocol.

Then Sunday, she fell out of bed at the hospital while trying to sit up. The staff were there and apparently witnessed it. Since it was a "gentle" fall and they did an "assessment," they decided not to do imaging of her back. My mom spoke with several people, all but begging them to do imaging of her broken, infected back to see if more damage had been done. One nurse was an absolute bitch to my mom. So she had her brother call to see if they would listen to a Man's Voice. They agreed to it, but then my gramma refused because it hurts too much to lie flat on her back on the hard MRI table. We tried to talk her into it, saying they could give her extra pain meds before starting, but she refused.

So tomorrow, they're going to send her to another TCU to continue antibiotics and PT. But who the fuck knows what happened to her back! The PT will probably do more damage than help, and that's if she even agrees to do the PT. If she refuses, I'm sure they'll kick her out. But we can't take care of her at home with this level of serious injury. My mom and I both work full time to keep the bills paid. My brother is on disability. My gramma has no money. We'd have to send her to a hellhole of a home, and if that happens, she'll resent us to death. Literally, she will just stop caring and die. And I wouldn't blame her! I can't even imagine her pain right now! Mental and physical!

On top of that, our house is falling apart because we are all multiply disabled. I'm immunocompromised and suffering from a severe cold that I picked up from my nephew despite being masked around him at all times. With my immune system, I could get lucky and be better in 1-2 weeks, or it could be 6-8 weeks. I only have 1 day left of PTO, which I have to save for a True Emergency, as if none of this is an emergency. Thankfully, my PTO renews on June 1st, but I have to make it through 7 more days of work like this.

I can't even begin to get into the household dynamics right now, but my mom has ruined her own health and aged 10 years in the past 1.5 years since my brother moved in. She will do anything for him if he asks, no matter how it destroys her. But if I ask for something, she is no longer there for me like she used to be. She racked up credit card debt for my brother and his lawyer for the divorce. She lets his kid come over every weekend, never mind the migraines, meltdowns, and illnesses it has caused me, and she will continue to do so. Even though I no longer have meltdowns and have grown fond of the little guy, he is a danger to my health. (It's not his fault! He's gonna get sick like all kids do, and his mom is an anti-vaxxer.)

I can't move out. I can't afford it, and even though my mom isn't able to be there for me like she used to, she still helps me with some things. (I am autistic and need support.) I love my mom. I resent her for her choices. I fear losing her above all else. She's my best friend. I am angry that she won't take care of herself. I watch her age and decline in health and burst into tears. We've made it through so much together. And somehow, we'll get through this, too, but I am so scared and tired.

[tussive]

Long vent post about a friend of mine I'm worried about. Going to put it behind a cut so it doesn't clog up anyone's dash and you can just ignore if you don't want to see me ramble for like 20 pages lol.

One of my really good friends is currently in jail stemming from mental health issues. I don't want to go into the whole deal of what happened out of respect for her privacy but it's just shitty. Like I know there's really nothing that I could have done, or anyone else for that matter, short of physically intervening or contacting the police. I don't think any of us really had the resources to even really get to her, let alone do anything once there to help and she never directly said it but I felt it was very much implied she would rather via suicide by cop than be forced to go back to the hospital.

But like just looking back. She started believing I was an imposter so we haven't really spoken in over a month. She told me months ago that she thought some of the users from the forum we met on were imposters as well, but I just thought it was like a fleeting delusion? Or I don't know. She's schizoaffective and has always struggled with psychosis and stuff. She apparently left her mom a voicemail since she's been arrested and has accused her of being an imposter as well. I'd really love to write her a letter, we would exchange letters sometimes anyway just as a fun thing to do, but also I know how important letters can be when you're incarcerated. But if she's still suffering from Capgras delusions, I don't want to just agitate her more either.

For months now I've wanted to reach out to a mutual friend about her mental state, because it's been very clearly declining. I didn't know what to say though, or like if I did, what could be done. And we aren't like friends really, I mean we know each other from posting in the same Discord servers or whatever, but we weren't even friends on Discord. So I didn't want to add her and then message her and bother her with this stuff. Especially because I didn't know how she would react to any of it and I was kind of afraid she may tell our friend what I had said and that would make things worse.

They recently moved her from a city jail to a county jail and that has me very concerned because everyone I know who has been in jail says the same thing, county jail is the hardest time to do. Because they just have so few resources comparatively. One of my other friends was in jail one time and he told me there was a period of time that they just fucking ran out of toilet paper. It's only been a day but she apparently hasn't been getting her meds either since transferring.

It's very unlikely that she'll be released anytime soon also. She's being charged with a felony. Mutual Friend (MF for short from now on to make this more readable hopefully) is in contact with her mom thankfully who is keeping us updated. Either MF offered or Mom asked, I'm not sure which and it doesn't really matter, about if I'd be willing to do something like be a character witness for her, so I gave MF my phone number to give to Mom, so I'm just kind of waiting on a text now. I don't really know how the logistics of that would work, but luckily she does live somewhat close so even necessary I could likely travel there in person but it'd kind of be inconvenient. I'd totally do it though and I'm glad that if that's what needs to be do, it is at least a possibility. I'd do anything I could to help her, unfortunately that's just not a whole lot.

[rotationalsymmetry]

I don't think my mom understands about my life, about my CFS.

It's important to me that my bad days and my recovery time isn't time spent in limbo, waiting for my "real life" when I can go out and socialize and do things that use up a lot of spoons. It's important to me that I have sources of joy all the time, no matter what.

That's one reason my garden is so important to me. Even on my worst days, I can enjoy looking at my plants. Even on my worst days, I can get outside in a bathrobe and water them a bit or trim some dead bits or pick a couple cherry tomatoes or some parsley. I can run my hand through the thyme and then smell my hand that now smells of thyme.

Even on my worst days, I can listen to music. I can take a hot bath. I can do restorative yoga. I can sing. I can do some calligraphy or a bit of sketching on my tablet. I can read. I can listen to a podcast while doing connect the dots or latch hooking or the sort of knitting or crochet that I can just do without thinking about it. I can write with my sparkly gel pens. I can eat food that tastes good; sometimes I can make food or do part of making food.

Maybe sometime I'll get better -- maybe it'll just happen, maybe there will be a breakthrough in treatment, who knows. But I might stay the same for years, decades even. I might get worse. If I stay sick long enough, I'll get worse eventually just because I'm getting older. Maybe some day going to the bathroom, physically walking over to the bathroom and getting up from the toilet, will be the hardest thing I do most days. Maybe my brain fog will get bad enough that I can't write or do logic puzzles or play games on my phone. (I think this is more likely to happen than me recovering my full health, or even getting substantially better than I am now.)

If that happens, I want to be ready. I want to be prepared for living the best life I can within those constraints. That's more important to me now than arranging my life to fit as many high-spoons activities as possible, especially very high spoons activities like travel.

I often enjoy those things a lot. But I don't necessarily enjoy them enough to balance out the way I make my life smaller before and after so that I'll be able to do those things, I don't necessarily enjoy them enough for it to be worth the brain fog and irritability and the extra tired and the having to ask for more things to get done for me.

I don't know how to explain it to her.

I don't think I enjoyed my life more when I could do those things. I mean. I'm glad I was able to, one of the things I can do even on my very bad days is go wandering through my memories, and things like travel mean I have more varied memories to wander through. And I think not being able to walk far is substantially worse for my mental health. But. Fuck. I spent so much of my teenaged years and young adulthood being completely fucking miserable.

Maybe that's why I think I can't explain it, if I tried it would be too easy to start talking about what I think she and Dad did wrong.

And I don't want to have that conversation. I really do not want to have that conversation.

[mywheelieweirdlife]

Shout out to everyone else who has stupid digestive issues and every life change you do or don't make for it.

For me, 98% of changes I make feel worth it, but I know for others it's not.

But every time I spend a few days not at home on my very specific eating habits and schedules; I feel it and I hate it.

Normally people don't treat peanut butter and dates as a main part of their diet to the point where a jar of peanut butter going up in price is worthy of crying over bc it fucks the whole budget and you do in fact budget to buy both pitted dates and dried apricots in bulk.

Normal people don't treat yoghurt as a holy grail because your digestive system is so messed up that daily probiotics are also a life saver.

And peanut butter, Up&Go's and protein supplements worthy of the highest of fitness bros? Yeah; that's because I can't eat red meat regularly or meat regularly because my body refuses to tolerate it.

Do I take supplements like a vegan should because I have to eat vegetarian and eggs are expensive so I use cheese and milk as primary sources of calories? Yes yes I sometimes do when I can afford supplements; or more accurately I buy foods and juice with supplements... sometimes specifically made for elderly people who struggle with pills and food intake because I'm poor and that's the easiest way to do it. (And generally, they do taste good)

Do I live off coffee, dates, apricots, fibre supplements and slippery elm and lemon&honey tea because my body likes to refuse to digest food and I don't want to pay for or take laxative pills and the drinks are gross and expensive? Yes, unfortunately.

Do I also have to physically massage my entire digestive tract three times a day to physically move it because my muscles don't work? Unfortunately.

Does all of this lowkey scare me because I do want to get pregnant one day and I have no clue how that'll impact it? Yes, very much yes. Will be eating so much gentle high fiber food in the third trimester if I ever get pregnant knowing that's coming (not just because pregnancy... specifically for postpartum. If you know, you know).

Like do I feel incredibly sick and have for the last two days because of the changes while I was gone? Yes, it was awful.

Do I know have to fix my entire body because of it over the next two weeks? Yep, unfortunately. While having very little money to my name.

Did it once again highlight how much energy, effort and time my body steals from me? Yes, I spent a full hour and a bit on the toilet because of my stomach being a dick yesterday before therapy while my mother was out on a walk. And a good 30 tonight low key crying in pain which is fun.

I will also acknowledge that there's two sides of this:

I can spend the hours of planning and preparing and working with my body, acknowledging that it will never function normally but fuck I can try my best to live pain free.

Or...

I can do what I did while I stayed with others this weekend and pretend that I am fine and that food is not a problem... and pay for that in pain and constipation and bloating and all the other fun issues that come with my conditions.

And I personally choose change my lifestyle because I live with enough issues; but I have friends who choose 'normalcy' all the time not just for convenience on mother's day weekends.

But it's hard and it sucks and I can't get laid when I'm off my routine because it's too fucking painful. I have blood pressure spikes and drops when I'm off my routine. Hell; I never feel more dysphoric than when I'm off my routine because suddenly the pain reminds me of everything and I'm so tired my mental health drops like an avalanche on Mt Everest; fast, hard, all consuming and deadly.

And this is one part of my chronic illness management.

This is only 1 change.

It's not the nerve pain management, it's not the mental health management, it's not the connective tissue issues, the dislocations... anything else that impacts my life.

It's just the impacts my stomach and intestines have on my dietary requirements and the extra symptoms they add and exacerbate when I don't maintain a specific schedule for management that took years to learn and control and occasionally fluctuates.

Like I will never live a normal life and it's hard af but it's still mine and I want to live it.

But there's more than just me and we all deserve the recognition and acknowledgment for how much it takes and what fucking badasses we are for surviving such bullshit.

[hjellacott]

There's no shame in being an adult-nerd

Listen, adulthood SUCKS. Every time I think of doing my taxes I have serious bouts of anxiety, not because of the money (I don't really have to pay much) but because of the sheer fear of "what if I do the online paperwork wrong and I get arrested for tax fraud?"

You're also supposed to know everything. I don't have much money so most of the house maintenance is up to myself. One day is plumbing, the next day the toilet seat needs fixing (and the screws are rusty and don't move!) and then yesterday I had to change a very complex type of lightbulb that including having to figure out how to connect cables, something I'd never done or learned about before.

Then I have to deal with the Health Service, with banks, learn about accounts, learn about the different types of microwaves so I am sure to get the right one, and all the paperworks for everything are ONLINE, and no one ever taught me this shit because it wasn't like that when my parents were doing that, so now I have to learn it (thanks school for NOTHING) and teach my now elderly mother. And it's so fucking difficult. Like it took us a month to figure out how to do a bureaucratic bs just to get some economical aid. Or to get my mum's elderly bus card, which is also online, another two weeks. And you can't speak with people any more! I have to deal with fucking bots EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE. And if you think you can just call or email someone and get all the help you need?! WRONG!!!

I've got a back problem. Things hurt. I'm tired all the time. I don't have the mental capacity to deal with the extreme BS that is adulthood. They sold it so nicely and it's CRAP. I'm on my way to get my second Bachelor Degree, for fuck's sakes, how is everything so hard? I'm academic! And thank God I at least have internet to google stuff. But even to sleep I need help. I have to meditate, to take meds... I am so fucking stressed always that OF COURSE I need assistance even TO SLEEP. And I'm under 40!

And then you know your high school bullies you thought you'd be free of? NOW THEY'RE YOUR LOCAL COPS, YOUR LOCAL POLITICIANS, YOUR LOCAL BUSINESSMEN AND BANKERS.

I don't have time or energy to try and find myself a partner. Let alone children, even though in my dream world, I've got them both. And a nice house with a pool.

And you kids who know NO FUCKING SHIT are going to try and BS me for what? For being a nerd?

Yes, I get fucking excited on nights that I can wear my Harry Potter pyjamas. Yes, when I'm alone, I enjoy singing movie songs and pretending I'm a hobbit with a blanket over my shoulders as a cape, fighting orcs. Yes, I have a good laugh with nerdy jokes. Yes, I get excited about nerdy shops full of stuff from Harry Potter, the Lord of the Rings, Star Wars... SO WHAT.

Let me have the very few fucking things that bring me joy. Because hey, at least I eat well, I don't self harm, I don't commit suicide. I'm trying to stay alive and is a fucking hard job when you're an adult, so whatever you need to do to survive, whether that's nightly masturbation or playing movie soundtracks on repeat, or going to ComicCons on a bloody Dark Vader costume, go ahead. No shame. NO FUCKING SHAME.

[variousqueerthings]

I like how watching MASH with my mum prompts a dozen comments on breaking the hippocratic oath and medical malpractice, I would be curious where she lands on preventative medicine 

I think this unintentional on the part of the episode, but I wonder how it feels for specifically a doctor to imagine doing that

to take s2 flagg-ep into play, imagining specifically the type of doctor that hawkeye is, who seems to have very quickly cottoned onto it being easy to have the high-ground if you’re not literally in a warzone and so doing what needs to be done for his corner of the world, vs bj who likes to hold onto the trappings of normalcy past when it makes any good sense 

leaving aside anything that the episode/writers wanted to convey, and just poking at the characters, preventative episode is near the end of s7 and so around the time when the “it’s not really about the army being bad, it’s about war-as-concept being bad” stuff took over, and the tone continued to shift into bleaker -- starting s8, but I am curious to see on this watch whether I might not feel like s7 (with peace on us, which also includes army-based antics) starts it, but just creates a last Hurrah of attempts to be ok that on my first watch translated as practically a hopeful atmosphere (lol)

*

it gives enough fuel for me to go, alright, preventative medicine is when hawkeye realises he’s alone in this, and that bj -- despite some earnest attempts here and there -- simply won’t fight on the level that he needs to fight the army + he’s been gradually going up against a higher authority than the army, Death itself (whether or not one wishes to read this as a symptom of mental health issues, I do find resonance in a bipolar hawkeye + a hawkeye who was managing himself and then he up and got sent to a warzone, which is no good for anyone)

(and would Trapper and/or Henry have pulled him aside and gone “buddy, you are not beating Death, death is normal, death is ok, the army sucks, focus on the things you can change, do you wanna take out another appendix? ok, let’s do go that”)

and so essentially this episode as the first in which he really gives up. comparably I don’t think he gives up way back in dr pierce, he “just” has a breakdown -- technically he fights all the way until they sedate him (and not because they’re technically against what he’s doing, but because he Really Needs To Sleep and admirable as shipping toilets is, it’s not what hawkeye himself would think was the best solution were he not several days into insomnia)

and every once in awhile he’ll fight once more (depressing news my beloved), but it’s mostly downhill from there/the goalpost has moved to coping as best as possible -- idk how much it was intended or not, but I feel like “say no more” being so near the end, gives a good and very upsetting blow to hawkeye’s fractured needs, once more zeroing in on who it is that’s causing all the violence. not A War, but an army general, and how he’s let that focus slide in favour of getting through the damn day and pretend-believing (as I hc it) that it’s not a system made up of people that causes all this destruction 

which reframes the ending of preventative medicine as guilt not because it was futile and bad technically for him to do what he did (it wasn’t, fuck you intended framing), but because hawkeye feels a lot of guilt for all the things he can’t do -- he talks a good game about his little corner in that one episode, but like... he literally thinks he’s going up against Death at times, he’s not being entirely rational about this

*

and on bj’s side we’ve got that relentless “I’m looking towards home” narrow focus, in which one can go, ok, well a doctor back home shouldn’t take out someone’s appendix unnecessarily, or indeed, half the shit hawkeye and trapper got up to back in seasons 1-3, which one might with this read assume bj would have not been happy about?” (idk where twice convincing someone they’re very sick lands on the medical malpractice scale, I’ll have to ask my mum)

bj wants to go home unchanged, despite all the mounting impossible-to-ignore-but-he-does-try-putting-on-blinkers-and-going-lalala evidence that that is literally not gonna happen. so it’s less about hawkeye hurting himself, less about ideals, and more about keeping his hands clean and having the high-ground for the sake of his needs 

I enjoy reading bj with all his possible flaws, I think one can say that he both wishes to help hawkeye and is selfishly focused on his own life (after all he has a wife and kid at home, the american dream to return to, unlike some others...) and those clash more and more as the show goes on (I also like resentful bj personally, bj who feels indebted to hawkeye and wants desperately to be there for hawkeye with all his ideals, and dislikes that this is at odds with what he should be doing, which is keeping himself in one mental and physical piece)

he could have done more to stop hawkeye if he really believed that this was wrong and/or it would be wrong for hawkeye. or he could have acceded that hawkeye was making points, but he personally simply couldn’t do it. what he does is stick firmly to the middle path of token resistance and a refusal to carry the burden with hawkeye, and then a somewhat useless holier-than-thou platitude about symptoms and disease that just makes hawkeye feel worse, but then also a hand on his shoulder that hawkeye briefly clings to 

best he can do

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anyway, I wonder as I continue to watch whether my mum will stick firmly to the ideals she has in a reality in which she hasn’t worked in a warzone, which will put her firmly on bj’s side, or if she’ll poke at things and imagine herself in such a situation (not that I’m trying to torture her, I’m just curious)

there’s something very interesting about doctors vs not-doctors in terms of putting themselves aside from other people in order to do their jobs sometimes, and it’s not necessarily a good thing (it’s a reason I’m scared of doctors outside of my mum and her friends, but those experiences have been firmly not like that, because we all know each other) but it does have a point to it, and the hippocratic oath is one of those things that help you set yourself apart/to a higher ideal, for better or for worse

and hawkeye has a very interestingly loose relationship with it from the get-go, and I think that that’s a much more interesting lens through which to watch preventative medicine than “is he right or is he wrong” -- instead it’s a character drama between his needs and bj’s needs

and on that note my other episode that I’m most curious about my mum’s reaction to is “heal thyself”

humanising doctors, the horror!