#just general anxiety about making sure I'm getting the right transport and going the right way and all that

[skykrystalai]

For the love of all things holy, if you're aromantic and romance-repulsed, try not to go on holiday with friends who are a couple.

You don't know where you're going 90% of the time because they're too busy talking with each other about where they're going and never actually tell you where to go and how you're getting there.

I'm having fun but also just blindly following the blind who seem to talk only to each other and don't actually know what I'm doing until someone says something 20 mins later.

[softxsuki]

Heya! It's nice to see you again , (honestly I think I'm bothering you 😶 but I really enjoy your writing) I was wondering if you could do mitsuya with a s/o who has had a rough childhood and sometimes has flashbacks when they see people fighting. The reader also has really bad anxiety and isn't good with talking to people, they normally have panic attacks whenever the flashbacks starts. Thank you! I wrote this because I start back tmr and my parents fought really bad 😕

Mitsuya with A S/O Who Had A Rough Childhood

Pairing: Mitsuya x Gn!Reader

Warnings: mentions of traumatic childhood, PTSD responses, panic attacks, fighting, kissing

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 820

Summary: In which you witness a fight and get thrown into a flashback which triggers your panic attack, so Mitsuya helps calm you down

[A/N: Hey, I'm sorry you're going through a rough time. Not sure what type of fighting you meant, but I hope this was okay. Enjoy <3]

Mitsuya:

Being Mitusya’s lover was nice most of the time

He was attentive and just a gentleman towards you in general, always hearing you out and going out of his way to make you happy

So despite having a rough past and knowing that Mitsuya was in a gang, things were going pretty great!

He of course never raised his voice at you; any disagreements you had together were always talked through very calmly

Even though Mitsuya was in a gang and fought for a living, he never directed that aggression towards you

You and his sisters were the most important people to him, he’d hate to see any of you scared or upset with him

So when you showed up at Toman’s headquarters one day to surprise Mitsuya (you were allowed to go since you were Mitsuya’s lover and everyone knew about you) a pretty violent scene awaited you

Toman were in the middle of a fight with another gang, and even though the fight was clearly almost over with Toman in the lead, the violent acts and aggressive screaming at one another sent you into one of your flashbacks

Young you at home, while your parents got into another one of their fights–anytime you witnessed any kind of fight, you’d be transported right back to that vulnerable moment where you were filled with the most fear

You drop to your knees, clutching your chest as you gasp for air, a panic attack beginning to bubble up within you

As the rival gang collected their men and ran off, easily defeated by Toman, your boyfriend finally caught eye of you on the ground and raced over to you, thinking maybe someone hurt you as you were kneeled on the floor looking frantic

“Y/N? What’s going on?” He’d ask with furrowed brows, kneeling down to get to your level

He was worried now, seeing you hyperventilate as he scanned you over for any injuries–there were none so this was clearly something a lot deeper

He’d bring you into his arms as he waves a hand for everyone to go away, giving you the privacy to cry and calm yourself down without their eyes on you

You could still see the images of your childhood flash before your eyes, still not aware that Mitsuya was in front of you now

So he repeats your name, still clutching you close to him, while peppering kisses to your arms and hands, anything to get your attention on him so he could calm you down

It takes a while, but once you’re able to feel him holding you and hear his voice again, the flashback finally leaves, and you’re able to come to a neutral state, only the stain of dried tears left on your face

“You’re okay,” he whispers in your hair, drawing small circles on your back with his thumb. “I’m here, everything will be okay.”

He’s insistent on figuring out why this happened so he knows how to prevent it or help you moving forward, so you end up confessing about your rough childhood and what happens whenever you see people fighting now

Mitsuya is very understanding, silently nodding along as you explain everything to him, glad that he personally, has never yelled or fought in front of you apart from presently

“I’ll make sure you never have to witness any fighting again. That seems like a decent task for me, don’t you think?” He smiles, trying to lighten the mood. “Though we do get into a few fights around here, so maybe next time I’ll text you when it’s safe to come over to visit our base here. You know you’re always welcome, Mikey said so himself, but from now on I want to make sure nothing will set you off again like today, so just tell me in advance.”

You felt bad for causing such a scene, especially in front of his fellow gang members, and he immediately sees that guilty look on your face

Reaching forwards, he cups your cheeks and presses a kiss to your lips

“Hey, don’t worry about today. These fools are always up to something ridiculous, no one will mention what happened here today. If anything, they were all worried for you as well. They all care for you, but no one will care for you as much as I do. I love you.” He whispers against your lips

He goes out of his way in the next few days to learn more about your past whenever you feel comfortable talking about it and makes sure to keep you away from any fights of all kinds

After all, he cares about you deeply and doesn't want to see you suffer like that–long term solutions are in the back of his mind and he’d make a point of bringing them up eventually…one step at a time is more than enough for now though

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 9/11/2023

[harbingrs]

It's genuinely funny that today's posts are rounding out days of serious contemplation about my general inability to publish tumblr posts. As in, I regularly write personal posts or replies to post and... immediately draft them, never to see the light of day.

I do this multiple times per week. Sometimes multiple times per day.

Not even posts on controversial topics, usually. But I'm having to reckon with the fact that I am constantly afraid to be a person out loud.

When it comes time to press 'post' I am afraid that - in some way, shape or form - I have not adequately protected myself from potential harm, and that there will be negative consequences I have not even anticipated, and therefore have not taken measures to avoid.

And so I quietly file everything in my drafts to experience a sense of relief akin to 'cancelling plans' because I have resolved the problem an I am safe again. In other words, yes, I am Doing Compulsions About it.

And I only just realised that's what I'm doing a few days ago, puzzling over why it always happens when I have zero intention not to post it. Right up until I try to hit the button and the siren song of the 'Save as draft' compels me to click it and immediately banishes all my anxiety.

But the phrase 'do not obey in advance' continues to crop up recently and it's certainly prompting some out-of-context thoughts. As in, it keeps reminding me that all my decisions are based around Safety and Survival.

This is not new and it is a pervasive pattern. As in, when I have a rental inspection, everything needs to be beyond perfect. This is not a requirement. Here, there is a clear legal scope of what they look for (that you are not damaging the property or otherwise violating the terms of your lease). There are legal safeguards to prevent them from evicting you or otherwise penalising you for other concerns.

However. Safety and Survival is about maximising the cards I hold in a vulnerable scenario. If my apartment is /impressively/, unusually clean and well-styled, I can make myself less vulnerable. This is not just an irrational perception, but a reality.

I would not have secure housing right now if it wasn't. Because despite a patchy rental history for on-time payment in my previous tenancy, I was able to land another apartment with the same real estate agency when I needed it because they know I "take care of the place".

The owner could get an extra $150 per week for this place if he didn't renew my lease this year and put it back on the market. He could have raised my rent by $150 per week. But that would risk me leaving, and he'd rather keep me here than gamble on a new tenant who doesn't "take care of the place".

The level to which I can impress and pander to an authority figure is the power I have in this scenario.

Since my on-time payment history is still fucked, getting a positive reference direct from the owner may be the only chance I have of landing another rental if/when I need to leave this place. If I am not approved for another rental (in a housing crisis) I'll have nowhere to go.

I have a 12-month lease term ahead before that's a possibility again. But appealing to authority - making myself pleasant and desirable, being of advantage to them - is the power I have to keep myself safe.

I was taught this intentionally from a young age. As a working class person, this is how you survive.

When your boss says 'jump', you should be so dedicated to your job, you don't even need to ask how high. You never turn down a request, overtime, a last-minute shift. If you don't have transport, you say yes anyway and then you /figure it the fuck out/.

Because sooner or later, your boss will need to fire someone. If it's you or the other guy, make sure he chooses the other guy.

This was drilled into me, word for word. This is how you protect yourself. Make yourself perfect in the eyes of the people in power, because it's the only way you can keep yourself safe.

You can see how this is a problem. You can see how this makes you afraid to... literally do anything, /be/ anything less than palatable. How everything you could say or do or express comes with a risk-reward analysis attached, and the priority is always to avoid risk. It's /necessary/ to avoid risk or you won't survive. You don't even know all the ways it might come back to bite you, but you didn't hold onto that protection when you had the chance.

If you don't say anything at all, nothing bad can happen. There can be no fallout and it can't ever be used against you. And if everything you say or do has risk attached - especially the kind of nebulous, undefined risk you can't even anticipate - then it's safest to stay quiet.

You can see how this is a problem.

[aberrant-webnovel]

Chapter 10 - Full House

Content Warning: Divorce, anxiety attack

Chapter 10 - Full House

It's a bit later in the afternoon now. Silva and I met back up and talked with Uncle Varun for a bit. He was exhausted as usual, but was happy with recent results. Of course, there wasn't much to be expected from the research yet. He approximated at least a month just to be able to build a playback device for the records.

We chatted about more, of course. It seemed like Silva had a more serious talk with him before I went to meet up. I also had a bit of a separate conversation. Maybe we'll swap stories about it later.

Now, it's time to go shopping.

Silva and I made our way back to the West District and walked to the market. From HQ, we traveled for just a bit less than an hour. Getting home from here won't be nearly as long though so we can take our time and pick out plenty to eat.

We entered together grabbed some hand baskets to shop with.

I also made sure to bring my wallet with me today. Had two cards for credits to pay with and my identification card. Other than, just a family photo of me with my mother.

My cards were split between two currencies. Both of which were accepted here, but sometimes products had different value in each. Groceries were best bought with local currency.

I had a gold colored card that had Igneol credits loaded on it. This was the local currency. Civilians who work in the Domain are paid in this currency. I did a lot of part-time work to build a saving for personal use. Also to buy mom some gifts on occasion.

My silver card was loaded with Calabasas credits. This is a continental currency. Every Domain uses this currency for trading. Some services only operate on this currency, typically types of long-range transport. Since my father was a Vault Breaker, our living expenses are paid to the HQ and they deal in Calabasas credits.

I had this card because I typically dealt with our home finances. Mom didn't like handling the money. She was really stressed out with it and would rely on Uncle Varun to crunch the numbers and make payments. Harper personally would handle the housing payments, often paying for a lot of it herself. At age 13, I had learned enough to help mom with all of the money handling. That's about when I started cooking for her too.

"Any idea what you want for dinner tonight or tomorrow?"

"Mac and cheese."

"Anything else?"

"More mac and cheese."

"Looks like I'm picking out all the dinners then."

We wandered around looking at produce. Silva kept wanting junk foods. I stopped her most of the time, but I did make sure we got some macaroni noodles. I'll get stuff to make cheese sauce.

I've got a couple meals planned. Didn't need to make our baskets too heavy so we stopped ourselves from going overboard.

We got the counter. I paid for the food in Igneol credits and that was it. Quick shopping trip. All done.

Silva and I walked through the neighborhood back to my home. It was a quiet walk. I was mulling over a lot of stuff and didn't pay attention to the quiet. At least not until Silva said something. Then I snapped back to reality.

"Can we talk?"

"Hm? Uh yeah. What's up?"

Silva looked nervous. A little sad. What happened?

"I might not be able to go back home."

"What? Since when? Thought you were going back with Uncle Varun when he was done with research."

"That's the problem. I don't think he's coming home again."

"Explain. What did I miss?"

We stopped walking. We were plenty far away from the roadways and nobody else was walking nearby at this time. No issues stopping for a moment to talk it out.

"Um… My mom is ending the marriage. Dad is moving out in the HQ dorms. He's supposed to collect his things from the house in a few days. Mom wanted me home to help him."

"What the hell? Auntie Fran is doing what?"

"It's… It's a lot right now. I can't talk it out by the street…"

"Let's get to my house. We're not far."

Silva had a lot of anxiety in general. I've seen her shut down completely from it, but not in a long time. She was stronger now. This was getting through all of her strength and winning. I could see her want to cry and lose her composure. I need to be her strength for a little bit.

I took the groceries that she was carrying and hooked my right arm through the handles. I gave her my left hand to hold. She grabbed it tight.

Her small hands felt even smaller and frailer than ever before. Was it my super creepy new strength or was she just that scared. It didn't matter.

We walked back to my house. Silva cried the whole way, but choked back the noise. She just let the tears flow.

I walked her to the living room. Mom was on the couch. She heard the door and watched us come in.

[What happened to Silva? Come here.]

Mom motioned for Silva to come to where she was and was holding out a hug for Silva.

My cousin quickly ran into her arms and cried. Now the wailing started. I didn't say anything.

I put the food in the kitchen. Got things in the cold if they needed it and ignored the rest.

I sat on a cushioned chair in the living room and looked at them. I didn't have anything at all to say right now. Silva just kept crying.

Screams came out of the small girl for about ten minutes. It slowly became sniffles and huffs. Mom's shoulder was soaked.

"Silva, do you need anything? Water?"

"… Yeah."

It was an easy thing to do to help, but I felt lost right now.

I just went to the kitchen, got a glass of water ready, and brought it back. Mom and Silva were separated from their hug and Silva was working on correcting her breathing.

"Here."

"Thanks."

I handed over the glass. She gulped it down and set an empty glass on the table. Coaster in use, of course.

Then she recounted what she and Uncle Varun talked about.

Varun and Fran had a strained relationship for a long time. He stayed at work too much. She was lonely. When they fought, Varun escaped into his work. Fran lashed out a lot. Too much at Silva. Varun and Fran fought over that, too. It seemed that after years of these issues repeating and worsening, Fran had enough. Varun was too timid to try to end it. Silva was expected to go with Varun. Fran was essentially abandoning her family in the eyes of Silva. In some way, Fran wanted to be happy still. I think I kind of understood that from the story.

"Ymir. Auntie Del. I don't want to live at HQ."

[Then live here.]

Silva eyes started pouring out tears. She wasn't wailing, though. Actually, Silva seemed frozen for a few seconds and just tried to choked back her cries. She dropped her head into her hands and then into her lap.

"You're practically my sister already, Silva. We keep that room ready specifically for you."

She kept sobbing into her lap. Mom patted Silva's back and stroked her hair.

I waited patiently. I couldn't rush her in any way. Not like I had too much else to say.

"I can really stay? I'll always clean the room. I can help with cleaning the rest of the house, too."

Mom smiled and wrapped Silva in a strong hug that lasted maybe ten seconds. She let her go and started signing.

[This has always been your home, too. You've always been welcome here.]

"Thank you, Auntie Del."

The rest of our day was filled with laughter and smiles, also plenty of tears still. I helped Silva pick up the mess in her room for once. She helped me prepare dinner. It was mac and cheese.

Mom watched us spending time together for a bit before resting on the couch in the living room while waiting for dinner.

We all enjoyed the mac and cheese for dinner for another night in a row. It tasted a lot better tonight.

[techforevil-er]

12/12-18/12/2022

Bleh week at work. Decent week outside with highlights of chocolate, cheese, and gaming. 💀

This week was less fun and more filled with meetings than I'd care for. Including at least two that started with 'do you have 5 minutes' and lasted for over an hour. I get that people are trying to cram stuff in before they leave on 19th and before the year end but... mercy. I'm still burnt out from 2020. 😭

I'm swinging wildly from being quite pleased about what I've done with Team 2 to being depressed about how underbaked some of the processes are, how messy the backlog is, and so on. Fortunately the new PM is helping now and my mantra of reducing WIP may actually get somewhere, and they will have a new DM joining just before the day in the office. \o/

On the bright side I made some notes from User Research for Team 1 and heard pop-up research results from the side project which has now finished. We also have an emerging solid plan for Team 1's work in the first Q and some ideas for making our programme check-ins different and more effective.

------

The unexpected snow that paralysed UK transport as usual got in the way of a nice dinner with a friend. I still managed to join the

---

If I ever find the strength to be a Lead or in the position to influence org-level roadmaps again (Doubt.) this is definitely something I'd like to try:

It seems so obivous now that I've seen it, I am bewildered why anyone bothered with the Gantt-y spreadsheet lines. 🤯

It might go well along Vaugh Tan's Boris framework as well, just to make sure the things NOT being done are super visible? https://vaughntan.org/unpacking-boris

This is a good vid:

-----

The unexpected snow that paralysed UK transport as usual got in the way of a nice dinner with a friend. I still managed to join the chocolate tasting group this month (we did bars originating from Tanzania) and use words like 'coarse', 'sour cherry', 'fruity but without a sour note at the end, a bit like apricot or banana' and hear other people describe stuff as 'the bin', 'sick', 'horrigyingly cloying'. One of the most pressured environments I've ever been in for sure. 😂 The chocolate in those sessions ranges between 70-85% so they day after in a bout of foolhardiness I went for a 100% hot choc at Knoops* and instead of something inexplicably disgusting I got a cup of hot, watery disappointment.

I failed miserably on the cheese advent calendar/cheese tasting front and mixed all my wonderful cheeses together to create (in all fairness pretty amazing) pasta cheese bakes. Farewell pre/post make model, we hardly knew ye. :'(

*I try to use Duck Duck Go more but even with string 'hot chocolate new row' and 'hot chocolate new row covent garden' this place was unfindable and I had to go with Google again. Sorry that I'm addicted to convenience I guess. -\(-__-)/-

-----

Puppet History made me cry.

I lost several more hours in Hades - it's way too easy to do just another run.

And of course I'm playing Witcher 3 again. I forgot just HOW MUCH empty space to run across there is in it. The writing remains gut-wrenching and I already found two new quests so overall I am having a very good time tho.

-----

NEXT WEEK

I feel like I've not watched a genuinely good film in ages. Maybe I'll try to change that. Maybe I'll just play games I've played before for 100 hours. 🙄

I might get started on a year-end personal retrospective and a personal plan. I've been asking the people I coach about theirs so it's only fair, right?

Booking things for the Interrail trip PROPERLY. Not just 2 days in Netherlands and then losing the will to live because of too many options and general anxiety. orz

[gallavichthings]

This week I interviewed someone who, despite being really new to the fandom, has already made for themselves: Arrow aka Arrowflier/ @arrowflier. Aside from several short stories here on Tumblr, they’ve also written Marriage, Mickey, and Milk of the Gods, Eighty-Seven Percent (Anatomy of a Heart), Burn Out the Sun and several others, including several on-going projects.

Also, I found out what a spectrometrist does.

.

.

.

A: I'm 30 years old, though when I go out I'm often mistaken for much younger. I got my PhD in analytical chemistry about three years ago, and moved from one midwest college town to another (where I currently work as a mass spectrometrist), both only hours from the city where I grew up. So you could definitely say I'm a homebody, and I like my comfort zone! That said, I've had some amazing opportunities to travel over the years, and love exploring as long as I get to go home after. 

GT: I’m sorry but I have no idea what an spectometrist does. Could you explain it a bit to us and also what made you choose this career? It sounds so interesting! What was your favorite place to visit?

A: I won't get into the nitty gritty, but basically I use really expensive instrumentation to identify, detect, and quantfify trace levels of contaminants like pesticides in a variety of matrices: crops, soil, water, etc. When I first decided to major in chemistry in undergrad it was on a whim, and since then I've focused mainly on environmental applications because it's so important to the health of not just people, but everything else too.

So far I think I have to say Germany in general; I really love it there. It's also the only other country I've been to more than once--first in high school as part of a trip with other young musicians throughout my state, and then again for a three month internship in undergrad. People tend to think this is odd, but one of the things I miss the most is the public transportation...and the bakeries on every corner, of course! I lived right off the Duesseldorf Altstadt, and it was absolutely beautiful there with festivals all the time.

When I am home, I cycle through hyperfixations on several hobbies: reading, writing, and crafting, mostly. Before I decided to dive into this fandom, I spent most evenings knitting or crocheting in front of the tv, and even joined an internet-based crafting competition (reward: bragging rights).

GT:  I' A crafting competition? That's cool! Have you ever made anything fandom inspired? 👀

A: Well I haven't made anything Shameless related just yet--though I've talked about making some little Ian and Mickey figures recently--but I've made things based on other fandoms. Here's a pic of one of the things I'm most proud of, my first double-knitting (reversible) project from a few years ago:

GT: That looks great!

A: What else...I have pretty major (but medicated) anxiety and am extremely open about it, like being by myself, and adore my dog (who lives with my parents a few hours away) more than anything.

GT: If you've read these interviews before you know I'm about to ask for a picture of that dog...

A: My furry baby:

Unfortunately, I just found out about an hour ago that he has a very aggressive oral cancer and won't be with us much longer, but right now he's feeling pretty good and happy.

GT: Awn, I'm so sorry about your dog. He's a cutie and I'm sure he gives you a lot of love.

Tell about your relationship with fanfiction. When did you first come across it?

A: I want to say middle school, maybe about 2005? I'm pretty sure I tried to search for something specific I was wondering about a book, and instead of a canonical answer, I found a fic and dove right in. I would sit at the family desktop in my parent's room and browse ff.net and LJ while I was supposed to be doing homework; thankfully I always cranked out assignments fast so it worked out, haha.

I read for a lot of little fandoms at first, and loved discovering that other people had some of the same thoughts I did about the characters. Back then I was mostly in it either for closure or because I wasn't ready for something to end. Now it's an immediate instinct: see or read something I like, then go see what other people have turned it into.

GT: Ah, FF.net and LJ, those bring out memories!

What was the fandom? Did you write for it too?

A: I want to say the very first one was Good Omens, back when it was just a book, but fics for video games were some of my first as well, specifically Skies of Arcadia: Legends and Tales of Symphonia because I had just discovered my ongoing love of JRPGs.

While I've had ideas for other fandoms, Shameless was the very first one I actually participated in, much less wrote for--my first fic ever was only posted on April 25th this year!

GT: I am reading Good Omens right now! I've already seen the show though.

Wow, you write a lot for someone so new to fanfiction! What made you want to start?

A: You know, I'm honestly not sure what was different to make me finally go for it! I periodically work on originals but hadn't written anything at all for a pretty long time--over a year I think.

But there's so much in Shameless that can be expanded on, and I just wanted to try! Besides that, I was lurking here on Tumblr and seeing what a great community it was, and figured writing was my way to become a part of it.

GT: The fandom is pretty great indeed, and very large nowadays. When did you start watching Shameless?

A: So that's kind of funny too...because I also started watching just this year! I don't know exactly when, but probably around February? I caught up just in time to watch the very last episode the night it aired.

GT: Good for you, you didn't have to suffer through our trials and tribulations lol

Did you binge the whole thing? What was your favorite episode?

A: I binge watched the hell out of it, haha. Totally obsessed once my coworker finally convinced me to give it a try. My favorite episode is definitely the gallavich wedding--I knew most of their story already, at least in general, so I totally cheated and watched bits of that one in between angstier episodes as a palate cleanser. I really needed that to get through season 8, especially.

GT: Is the wedding your favorite scene?

A: Hmm, favorite individual scene is much harder! I'd say it's a tie between the wedding, Mickey coming out, and "Holy fuck".

GT: What would you change in canon if you could change one thing?

A: I'd definitely get rid of Terry walking in on them and the following events. I get the place it has in the story, but it was just too much. While other things are difficult or don't seem to fit, that's the one thing I just can't handle.

GT: Who are your favorite characters aside from them?

A:  That definitely varied throughout the series! Kev and V always had a special place in my heart for being such a constant even when they were struggling. But by the end, Carl was pretty high up there--I think he showed a lot of growth while still being himself.

GT: Do you write them as well or just Ian and Mickey?

A: So far they've only shown up as brief side characters, mostly because I find it harder to write them in a way that feels authentic yet. I'd like to get more into other characters though, and tentatively plan to do character studies for them at some point in the future.

GT: Do you ever include original characters in your fics?

A: I do! They mostly just spring up along the way; I start writing them and see what happens. But most of the characters in my outsider POV series (Meet the Neighbors) are original, and I started a kid!fic that will have OCs as well.

GT: What do you base them on?

A: Nothing in particular, honestly. I don't base them on real people or other characters, at least on purpose. I just start with the basic background that I think makes sense for the story, and let them grow from there. It mostly turns out ok I think, though sometimes they turn out a bit different than I expected!

GT: What inspires your stories?

A: Just about anything and everything! Lately I've mostly been letting other people inspire me with prompts, because there's something really special about writing something you know at least one person is really looking forward to. And a lot of it has been in the vein of "missing scenes", things I wish we had gotten to see on screen, or fix-its. If I can't think of something but want to write, I just sit for a bit and let my mind wander until something sticks.

I also have about a million crossover/AU ideas, because I like plunking my favorite characters into established situations and seeing how that twists it. Because most of the time you can't just merge stories like that and expect them to come out intact--it's sort of a character study on its own to discover how different stories will bend around different people.

GT: What kind of fics do you write the most?

A: Oh gosh, there's so many already I'm not even sure, haha. I'm thinking the majority of my ficlets are post-canon scenarios, which I really do enjoy, and either fluff or hurt/comfort. Because Mickey and Ian deserve good things, but they're not always great at letting themselves have them.

Most of my longer ideas are AU though; I'm just working much more slowly on them.

GT: Which fic you've written are you most proud of?

A: I think I have to say my very first one: F*ck the Stars. It's not that it's my best or my most popular, but it was a really big deal for me to put out there. I still kind of can't believe I actually did, and that I keep doing it!

GT: Which fics and authors in the fandom are your most favorite?

A: Does it sound like a cop-out if I say I can't pick? Really though, I can't--there's just so much talent, and I haven't even made my way through all the fandom classics yet. That said, whenever I see a fantasy AU it shoots right to the top of the list.

Two of my current fantasy favorites came out of you hosting Gallavich Week this year: Bad for Business by Ravenheart [@sunoficarus] and Lest They Say, Here Be Dragons by RageSeptember [@gallavictorious​]. Then there's a witch in wicker park by horror_business [@damnnmilkovich], another taste of divine rush by kissteethstainred, and on a slightly different note Thicker Than Forget by @wehangout.

That doesn't even scratch the surface of works (or authors) I adore, and my to-read list is so long it's scary, but it's one little niche I'm very fond of that doesn't always get a lot of attention.

GT: You're right, it doesn't, so thanks for sharing your favorites with us!

So, fantasy is definitely one of your favorite themes/tropes, right? What else catches your attention when you're looking for fics to read?

A: Absolutely! Fantasy is all I read anymore outside of fic, so I love it when those things cross.

I'm also a sucker for just about any fic centered on misunderstandings, as long as there's a happy ending, usually where they both fall for each other and think they're the only one. It's my not-so-guilty pleasure.

Other than that, I love lots of description, things other people would probably consider purple prose, and familiar stories with unique twists. In general though, I'll give anything a shot if I'm in the mood for it, especially if it comes recommended.

GT: And what annoys you when reading?

A: Hmm, I think the biggest thing might actually be in formatting, not the work itself. If I see huge blocks of text, I tend to hit the back button pretty quickly. Likewise, if I can't tell when a scene shifts or when a flashback starts, it pulls me out of the story as I try to figure it out. I can overlook a lot if a storyline is compelling, but obvious inaccuracies--I'm talking things like physically impossible actions or timelines--throw me off as well. I do avoid some fics (not all) with medical or scientific plots for that reason.

GT: What has the reception been to your fics?

A: So much better than I expected! Sometimes I can't believe people aren't tired of me yet, honestly. The weird thing to me is that ficlets I don't think are very good (here on tumblr, I don't generally put my speedwrites on ao3) sometimes seem to be among the best received! But that's encouraging in its own way, and I think tends to reflect general interest in different topics.

GT: What kind of comments do you just love getting?

A: All of them, even though I'm terrible about replying! But I think it's really special when someone picks out a phrase or passage that spoke to them, or that they related to.

GT: What's your writing process like?

A: Never the same twice, haha. But I'd say that once I have an idea, it's usually immediately followed by a line or two that I fall in love with, and I go from there. For longer fics I attempt to outline, but if I try too hard to stick to that I tend to fizzle out very quickly. So instead I try to apply something I was originally taught for public speaking/oral storytelling: know the bare bones. Stick to those couple of impactful moments that the story wouldn't be the same without, and let the rest fall where it may.

That's easier said than done, of course, and I still struggle to self-edit and keep the bullet-point key moments manageable. I also tend to edit as I go because I'm a perfectionist, but I've started forcing myself to just leave blanks and skip around if I don't feel like I'm getting it right. I skip around a lot, in fact; instead of trying to write up to the point I just had a random idea for, I go ahead and write it and fit it in later.

For my tumblr fics it's a little different though; they're short and fairly stream-of-conscious, and generally unedited as a way to force myself to just put things out there and stop worrying about it.

GT: Do you have any writing rituals? How do you motivate yourself to write?

A: It changes from day to day, nothing concrete except an endless supply of tea and either silence or instrumental music.

When I really need motivation, I like to use my hourglass, and tell myself that I have to at least try to work on something until the sand runs out. More often, though, I try to sit outside--albeit that only works for me in a very narrow temperature range--or I get set up in the spare room that serves as my little library. Sometimes I'll hand write in a pretty journal to type up later. Atmosphere can make a big difference, as can a comfy place to sit--no desks or tables for me.

In a pinch, I take a shower--shower thoughts are creative thoughts--or go to bed extra early and type ideas on my phone, since things always seem to come to me when I shouldn't be thinking about it at all.

Also, not gonna lie, I sometimes bribe myself.

GT: Oh, bribe how? It never works for me.

A: I mean, I never said it worked well, haha. But it can be the last push sometimes. "If I finish this passage, I get to open that bottle of wine." "If I spend 30 minutes at least trying on this, I can leave the laundry until tomorrow." "If I actually post tomorrow, I can splurge on take-out as a reward." That kind of thing.

GT: Hahah, I wish that worked for me too!

Do you have a preference for writing Ian or Mickey pov?

A: In the beginning, I was more comfortable writing Ian. I can really relate to both his mental health struggles and the way he seems to think about and deal with things sometimes, so it came more naturally.

Now though, I find myself writing as Mickey more and more. I probably make him a bit more introspective than would be true to character, but there's so much depth and development there to explore. Beyond that, it's sort of cathartic to write Ian through his eyes, because he's blunt and can put things in perspective and obviously cares very deeply for all of Ian, not just the easy parts.

GT: What's the most difficult thing about writing them?

A: For me, I think it's not being too self-indulgent and keeping them in-character enough that it doesn't throw other people off. That, and dealing with their individual issues and traumas respectfully. It can be nerve-wracking to try and tackle something like bipolar disorder or child abuse from an outside perspective, because it's important but getting it wrong could be hurtful.

GT: And what's the best part?

A: How well they fit together. They've been in each other's orbits for so long, and know each other so well, and it's a pleasure to write about a couple that has their problems but keep coming back to each other to work it out. Because any kind of personal relationship is work, but it's worth it for all the fun, silly, and completely-in-love moments we didn't get enough of in the show.

GT: What are your headcanons for their future?

A: I think I'd like to see them move back to the Southside, and really make it their own. They might not have kids of their own, but their nieces and nephews hang around with their friends at the "cool uncle's" house all the time. They're the honorary parents of the neighborhood, too, and kids know where to go when they need a nonjudgemental adult or a protective force. And I don't care if they keep the same jobs, but whatever they do they find a way to do together.

GT: What are you working on right now?

A: Oh, so many things. I currently have...6 official WIPs? One is a fluff piece of them taking a delayed honeymoon and should go quickly once I get back to it, but the others are more intensive and need some worldbuilding still. There's a Jurassic World AU, a twisty sort of Snow White AU, an alternate meeting AU where Mickey is basically a survivalist, a post-canon fic about them picking up some strays, and my outsider POV series.

I'm trying really hard not to start anything else big until I at least get further into those, but I have a handful of other chaptered AUs planned for sometime in the far future, most based on fairy tales. And I'm still enjoying doing my little ficlets, too.

GT: Wow! Looks like we have a lot to look forward to!!

Ok, last question: why arrowflier?

A: Good question, no good answer haha. Arrow comes from a class I took in undergrad, where we were encouraged to choose our "storytelling" names to use for the semester. It's a character (sort of) in an original work I've been not-writing since high school.

But Arrow was always taken on other websites, so I had to add to it. In trying to think of modifiers, I think I was looking at my books and saw "Arrow's Flight" by Mercedes Lackey. So now I'm either Arrowfly or Arrowflier depending on availability!

GT: Hahah, no, it was a good answer, thanks!

Well, best of luck with all your WIPs and thank you for providing us so much content in such little time. I love seeing new people come into the fandom, it's always a boost of motivation.

Leave a message to the readers now.

A: Thank you for this opportunity, and for all you do for the fandom!

For everyone else, thank you for being such an incredibly supportive community; I'm so glad I chose this as my first real fandom, because I couldn't have chosen better. And if you ever think, "I wish I could write, or draw, or gif, or whatever," just go for it! You'll have an amazing audience, and it's absolutely worth it.💖

[sparky-is-spiders]

For the anon request: "Elias cooking. Jon feels normal about it"

So I wrote a bit of this at home, a good chunk on an NYC subway, a decent amount on a plane, and the rest this morning in an airport while running on persistent low-level anxiety, about 45 minutes of sleep, and one (1) donut. 90% of the edits were correcting "Jonathan"s back into "Jon"s because my note app cannot conceive of a short nickname.

Anyway, I hope this is alright. I'm going to be honest I'm pretty sure I gave Jon too much of my voice here but I'm tired so it's staying. JonI'm so sorry I'm so mean to you in this. It's projection I'm giving you all my social issues.

Anyway I just want to say that it's probably best to imagine the "is this a pigeon meme while reading this. Only the guy is me and the caption is "is this a romantic relationship?" Because oh boy does none of my knowledge there come from practical experience (or even a real interest in having one of those). So. If this is unrealistic behavior for a dude dating his boss that'd be why lol. Anyway I am proud of how much scenery describing I did. It's my least favorite part but I know its important. Whatever that's enough background info. No serious TWs needed I think? Jon is a disaster so if you're very very sensitive to potential second-hand embarrassment I guess there's that?? But it's pretty minor I think.

Jon can't help but glance nervously at every tube stop. It's embarassing, really. The odds of a coworker getting on this specific train car at this specific time are so low that it's laughable to think about. Besides, he's hardly doing anything wrong. Taking the tube isn't a crime. It's not against institute policy to have dinner with someone.

(It is absolutely against institute policy to be having a romantic dinner with this particular someone. In all aspects, this is a terrible idea that Jon should never have agreed to.)

Realistically, if any of his co-workers spotted Jonathan Sims From Research on the tube, they would follow the sacred rules of public transport and not speak to him, and then forget it all the next day anyway. Perhaps they would assume he was running errands, or going to a museum, or (in a generous over-estimation of his social life) going to spend time with a friend. If they spotted Jonathan Sims From Research glancing around furtively and looking extremely nervous while on the tube, they might have questions. Some of the nosier ones might even ask him. Certainly, it would end up in the institute's highly active gossip mills. He certainly doesn't want any undue attention trained on him. Especially now that he and Elias are... well.

Jon is an embarrassing seventeen minutes early. Part of him considers going for a nice, relaxing stroll through the neighborhood, but he feels that might be both creepy and pathetic. Besides, giving him yet more time to think might make him too anxious to show. He’s fairly certain the only reason he was able to make it this far was the narrow focus of traveling to an unfamiliar place on time.

(An unfamiliar place. Like he was visiting some far-off city somewhere and not a different part of the city he’d lived in for the better part of a decade.)

Elias apparently lives in a quaint townhouse in Chelsea. The bricks a re a cozy red-brown, with a charcoal gray roof and white trimming. There is a small, neatly manicured lawn surrounded by a brick fence that comes up to Jon’s chest. There’s a garden plot nestled against the wall beneath a window with a few coniferous shrubs and a dying azalea bush. It would look like every other townhouse on the street (and just about every townhouse Jon had ever seen), if it weren’t for the complete lack of personal touch. Jon checks the little slip of paper Elias had written his address on just to be sure he’s in the right place. It is exactly the same as the last dozen or so times he looked.

Jon feels a prickle at the back of his neck and whips around. Across the way, a couple are watching him. Do they think he’s suspicious? That he doesn’t belong here? Do they know that he’s here to see Elias? Do they know why? It’s all ludicrous, of course. It’s not as if they know him or that they could read his mind. But something about this whole situation makes him feel as if he has “I’m having an affair with my boss” scrawled all over his face. He turns swiftly, marches up to Elias’ front door, and knocks.

Barely a minute later, Elias flings the door open. The first thing that Jon notices is that he looks somewhat harried. The second thing he notices is that Elias is wearing an apron, which is apparently enough to short out something in Jon's brain. In theory, Jon was aware that Elias probably wouldn’t invite him for dinner just to order takeout, and that he must surely cook his own meals at least occasionally, but there’s something so bizarre and incongruent about the sight that Jon momentarily forgets himself.

“Ah, Jonathan. You’re here early,” Elias ushers him in with a hand that has flecks of sauce on it, and Jon snaps out of his… momentary lapse. “Get the door, would you? You can put your bag down on the table there.” Elias is already walking off somewhere, probably the kitchen. Jon follows his instructions and takes a moment to consider whether or not he should take off his shoes as well. Was Elias wearing shoes? He can’t remember. The apron was sort of distracting. It was a deep, rich green. There was a floral pattern, Jon was pretty sure.

You’re being ridiculous. Focus.

There’s a shoe rack next to the table Elias asked him to place his bag on, and Jon is pretty sure he recognizes Elias’ normal work shoes. He tries not to think about what it means that he can recognize Elias’ footwear and toes off his own shoes, leaving them beside the rack.

As he slowly wanders in the general direction Elias went, he takes stock of the house. The walls are a bland, inoffensive beige. The shoe rack, table, and coat rack are all the same medium brown wood, and are the only items of furniture in the entryway. There’s a mirror above the accent table and a welcome mat with a mossy coloration (Jon wonders if he should put his shoes back on again to wipe them down, but thinks better of it). A narrow stairwell leads up into a darkened second story. Through a curved archway opposite the stairs, he can see into a living room with dark gray, blocky furniture and an old brick fireplace. Much like the garden, it’s neat and orderly, but bare of anything personal. No mess, no photos, no… charming knick-knacks. It rather reminds Jon of his own flat, really, although Jon’s isn’t quite so tidy.

He’s tempted to wander off and explore the living room or the shadowy upstairs, but he hears Elias calling his name from somewhere deeper into the house.

Down the hall and to the left, past where the stairs end, is a nice dining room. The walls have a dark red wallpaper with creeping black vines, and the table and chairs are made of a deep, dark wood. There’s a bar in the back of the room, and a lone potted plant in the far right corner sits silent vigil over the space.

At the end of the hallway is a door (closet? bathroom?), and to the right is another archway leading into the kitchen. Elias is in there, stirring something in one of several large pots on the stove. He’s wearing a white button-up, ash-gray slacks, and the apron. It does indeed have a floral pattern. And soup splatters. Jon has no idea why it matters so much to him. There’s something domestic about it, he thinks. He’s reminded of quiet evenings doing homework at the dining room table, listening to his grandmother cook. It inspires all sorts of wild fantasies in his mind where Elias and him live together and Jon sees this every morning. Which is tremendously inappropriate for a fling this new, especially when he knows it’s bound to go down in flames somehow (Jon isn’t stupid. He knows how romantic entanglements with one’s boss tend to go. This can’t possibly last). But he watches Elias cook pasta for them and no matter what he tries to tell himself, his brain just won’t listen.

At some point, Jon comes to the realization that he hasn’t said a word since he got here. The silence had felt companionable but now he wonders if it was simply awkward. It would hardly be the first time. He should say something, probably. Unfortunately, the words just won’t come.

Thankfully, Elias saves him from the quickly growing awkward silence. “My apologies for making you wait. I got caught up in work, so dinner will be slightly late,” he gestures to his clothes with the hand that isn’t stirring sauce. “I had hoped to be more… presentable.”

“It’s quite alright. And you look…” Jon searches for a word that conveys seeing you like this makes me want to keep you in my life forever but which also does not imply that Jon might have any real opinions on the subject. He dodges perfectly adequate at the last minute (he is, despite all evidence to the contrary, socially aware enough to know how that might be received) and settles on “nice.” Elias looks at him and does something with his eyebrows. Jon thinks he might be amused.

Before Jon can either insult him or reveal any hints of emotional vulnerability, he plows on. “I should probably apologize as well, for arriving so early.”

Elias chuckles warmly. “Well, I appreciate the eagerness.”

While Jon is trying to find a way to bridge the gap between I spent almost the entire day fretting over this dinner and an hour pacing my flat and I need this to work out quite terribly and I am invested in this relationship at the bare minimum of whatever is socially acceptable, a timer dings.

Elias gently taps his wooden spoon against a pot three times. “Ah. There we are then. I would very much like to go freshen up. Would you mind setting the table, dear?” And then Elias is striding out of the room, while Jon tries very hard to remember all the symptoms of a heart attack and compare them to whatever it is that’s happening in his chest cavity.

…

[haechanokeh]

I’m right for you [pt. 3]

[teaser] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 2 ]

(you can play Die For You by The Weeknd while reading this 😌)

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning: corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, psychology, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark

I think I’m right for you, babe. You know what I’m thinking, see it in your eyes. You hate that you want me, hate it when you cry. It ain’t workin’ ‘cause you’re perfect and I know that you’re worth it I can’t walk away. (Die for you by The Weeknd)

today is you case presentation with mark. you were deeply affected of what happened in the cubicle but mark seemed unbothered because he was greeting you as usual. it wasn’t weird, he always greets everyone but what was really weird was your classmates. they were looking at you and it made you felt conscious, they were not saying anything but sometimes you catch them glancing at you but you brushed it off and focus on your brainstorming with mark.

yes you do dislike mark but you thank god that he's your partner. he never missed a question from your professor during case study on the other hand you're just standing beside him dumbly. you only understand the question AND the answer once mark responded. well, mark a very kind person he was, despite of answering it alone he made sure that you're included in the case saying base in y/n and my research, even lied that some are from my own research but of course not. plus, for some odd reason, your classmates' eyes were literally made you uncomfortable to the point you were having a hard time to breathe or your social anxiety attacking you. however, at the very moment, you want to give mark a tight hug for making your life easy.

the whole presentation ended. you were putting your things back to your back while standing while mark scrolling in his phone because his dad texted him asking if he could buy him some new pen. you gasped when an arm was on your shoulder, and that caught mark's attention but he hid his annoyance. 

"hey, y/n, i heard you like someone ha?" his brows were playfully raising. it was lucas, he gave mark a meaningful glance but mark smiled confusingly.

"what?" you didn't have any idea what he's telling you. 

"i heard someone saw-"

"mark!" mina suddenly appeared calling mark's name a little too loud which made lucas stop from talking. "we're going to a milk tea house, do you want to come with us?"

“y/n, come with us.” lucas pulled you closer to his body. mark was taring at lucas arm around your shoulder. you weren’t aware of mark’s expression because your mind was thinking ways to breakthrough from lucas. 

“no!” mina exclaimed. he caught everyone’s attention, and she became flustered. “i mean, we will only make her feel uncomfortable and lucas please remove your arms to y/n, she doesn’t look comfortable.” she mumbled. lucas did remove his arms from you. 

“milk tea? can we also come with you?” then the people started to surround mark. it became noisy, knowing you who’s allergic to people and noise sneaked out from the circle and left the room.

mark turned his head to look at you but you’re nowhere to be found. he sighed and forced himself to interact with his classmates.

your mother texted you that he will be away for one week because of their excursion. she left you an allowance good for one week including your meals for the whole day and transportation. you already had your dinner outside. right now you were just laying down on your favorite long sofa in your living room, watching NCT 2020 funny moments. suddenly, mark's name popped. mark is your class representative, he has access to class contacts and it wasn't that mark called you because you're always late in the class so for almost past 3 years he's the one you always contact just to inform the class that you're just late. 

wait, did i miss an announcement? you quickly left the class maybe something came up.

"hello, was there an announcement?" you directly asked

"none, just checking you. we haven't had a proper conversation awhile ago unless it's case related." 

you heart melted, he's very kind and sweet... that scares you.

"ah okay." you simply answered. it wasn't because you want to talk to him, well you really don't want to talk to him but it wasn't that he's annoying or anything- it was just you hate phone calls. you hate talking with someone in general unless it's your mom. 

"well, have you eaten yet?" he tried to save the conversation, he wanted to hear your voice longer.

"yes." it was a one-word reply. 

mark was slightly shattered because you don't seem to want to talk to him. he just thought that maybe you were tired.

"okay, goodnight."

"yeah." then you hang up. 

you returned watching youtube until you drifted into your dreamland... no it wasn't your dreamland.

you gasped and sat up as you woke from another perverted dream with mark. your chest was rising aggressively and you look down as you felt the wetness between your thighs. you raked your hands over your hair as you felt frustration and guilt. this was your second time that you dreamt of mark doing erotic things. you looked at the digital clock it was already 2 am. you groaned and stood up, you want to wash your body because the stickiness just made you feel more guilty if it stays there longer.

you entered your room and stripped, walking directly into your bathroom. you opened a warm shower and as the water trickled on your body, hands unconsciously trailing to the south. your dream was so hot, you can't lie about that. it was in the same cubicle but instead of his digits, it was his dick inside you. 

your eyes closed as you rubbed your bead slow while recalling your dream. you squeezed your left breast and imagining it was mark's squeezing it. you want something to fill your womanhood so you inserted your two fingers and thrust it. your lungs felt like being suppressed by pressure, your thrust became furious. 

"oh my- mark fuck." you moaned his name and you have never been so ashamed. it was so wrong but the feeling was so good that you weren't able to stop yourself from moaning. you felt the tension in your thighs. you knelt down and the hand that squeezing your breast was now on your clit rubbing it furiously. 

"mark! fuck right there." you felt the tension in your abdomen and your legs started to shake. your body just gave in, bending down, cheek shoved against the wet tiles while the warm water splashed on your body.

you screamed erotically, eyes rolling and lashes flickering. your legs were shaking as you reached your high.

 mark hasn't slept yet, it's okay for him because there are no classes. he was staring at the ceiling and mind preoccupied by you.

he was trying to understand why do you keep pushing him away even though you clearly wanted him too. mark did remember where you say he's very different from you, and so? what's wrong with it? what he didn't like is the thought of changing just for a single person but...

"shall i?" he chuckled bitterly. he was really close to his insanity. he feared that this affection will grow into something that is uncontrollable- like an obsession.  

he checked the time through his phone. it's 5 in the morning. he decided to jog outside, so, he took a quick shower and wore his tracksuit and running shoes. maybe if tiredness hits him, he will feel sleepy. mark already went to your house and he didn't tell you that his house is just a few blocks away from you, instead of going to his normal route, he changed it, jogging in your house direction.

when he was closed to your street, he was surprised to see you outside. he stood and admire your naturalness from afar. your hair was disheveled, your eyes weren't completely closed yet, and your face was a little puffy but it doesn't take away your beauty. plus, your cute teddy bear pajamas made him smile. he sends his gratitude to god because he created a masterpiece. 

yeah, mark is deeply in love and he thinks there's no way out of this feeling. 

you were actually waiting for your breakfast, your pancakes from mcdonalds and a warm chocolate drink. when the delivery arrived, you paid and gave him a tip for being quick. you were about to go back inside when you heard a VERY familiar voice which was owned by the person who sleep deprived you 

"Y/N!" his voice was loud, it even cracked. 

"what are you doing here?" you asked.

"morning jog, and good morning to you." he replied and greeted at the same time.

"jog.." you paused and gasped. "from your condo to here?!" you exclaimed in disbelief. mark laughed at your reaction. of course it'll shock you because you already been in his condo and if he jogged it from there to here, he was supposed to be passing out right now.

"no, my family house is actually a few blocks away from here."  he said.

WHAT?! this is not good. you thought. the more he gets closer the more he has access to your mind and body. you masked your displeased face and just nodded.

"okay, ahm. i'm heading back now. bye." you pointed at your house door and awkwardly turned your back walking towards your door.

you expected him to do something because he always do that but to your disappointment he didn't. you looked back to check if he was stil there but he was no longer standing there but you saw him jogging away from your direction. you sighed in disappoinment that made you mentally slap yourself for feeling very contradicting .

you ate miserably your affordable and favorite pancake.

mark took a bathe and go down to eat breakfast together with his parents. they prayed before eating. the cooked food by his mom made him question why your ordered delivery food for breakfast.

"how's school?" mark's dad asked him.

"good, still the same." he replied.

"your father will lead a service, you can invite your classmates. oh mina, you can invite her, she's very sweet girl." his mom said but she doesn't have any motive. she knew mark have not interest in romantic relationship as of the moment, her child was so focus in maintaining his grades and scholarship. at least, that's what he though.. if she only knew.

"i'll try." he forced a smile but behind it was growing tiredness. he knew that his classmates doesn't really want to praise but because they were so fond of mark and they just love to hang out. it defeated the purpose of going to church.

after the breakfast, mark's parent left for their work. he washed the dishes and went up stairs and stayed in his room with his music and guitar. it helped to detach his mind from thinking of you, but it was just temporary as he saw you name appeared in his phone. he almost threw his guitar just to answer your call very quick.

"y/n? why?" he sound so excited.

"ahm, mark... well.. perhaps, do you ahm, have notes from yesterdays discussion? i mean in all cases, not just ours?" you were very stuttering because of shyness. your class have long test about the cases but you're notes are everywhere and you can't understand your writings.

"yes." he said. he knew where this is going. he quickly get out from his bed and go straight to his closet, choosing shirt to wear. "do you need it? i can bring it to you."

"no, no. ahm, you do digital notes right? mind if you could send it through gdrive?" you really don't want to bother him... nah lies. you're just preventing things from happening.

mark paused for a moment and was a little hurt, he understood your statement as if you don't want to see him. but mark will not having any of that.

"it was handwritten though." he faked sorry. he hoped you didn't notice what he did there, hoping that you received it as if it was literally handwritten like directly to paper since he sounded apologetic.

"oh... i see. well, ahm, can you drop by in the house?"

mark still not satisfied by just dropping by.

"how about we study together? we can review together."

you translated it like 'the smartest in your class can help you'and that's very tempting. you can't easily study 8 cases and you need him. you used his diuretics notes in lecture, you almost aced it. now, your lab needs him.

"then, pizza is okay for you?" you whisoered from the other end.

mark secretly fist pump and grinned in triumph.

"yes."

you spayed air freshener in your living room and changed your shirt to another shirt? you only have tees just in different colors, you changed your short into black sweatpants. you made sure that your hair was far different from the hair he saw this morning. you already ordered the pizza.

the doorbell rang. your quickly opened the door for him. mark was standing, carrying his ipad and his other hand holding a two milk teas in a cup holder. he's wearing dark blue t-shirt and gray sweatpants. you smiled awkwardly and let him in. you scanned his body, looking for paper or at least a piece of paper but you didn't see any of it. mark was looking down at you, watching you observing him.

"where's your notes?" you curiously asked.

"here." he lifted his ipad. your jaw dropped.

"i thought you did not do digital notes?"

"i don't recalling telling you i didn't, i just said it was handwritten and when i saif that handwritten in my ipad." he reasoned. taht made you think later realizing that he was right and that made you dumb.

you sighed in defeat.

"by the way, bought you milk tea since you missed it yesterday." he said, you acually don't care if you missed it or not.

you walked towards the single couch and patted it.

"you can seat here." you said.

he quickly sat down and put the milk teas on top of your living room's table. he confusingly watched you when you sat on the long couch and it was the end of it. you were too far from him.

you noticed his sulking face.

"mr. mark lee, what's with your long face?" you chuckled teasingly.

"why are you too far from me?" he pouted.

"damage control." you replied shortly and get your case 3 notes which is very illegible to read. "can i borrow your case 3?"

"why? what did i do?" mark asked was clueless. he did not pay attention to your question

"mark, being alone with you is not healthy anymore." you directly answered him.

"orgasm is healthy, what do you mean?" mark didn't get your.

"mark, that's not what i mean. we're like horny teenagers doing unappropriate things."

"we're already passed in that phase in life, we're both adults." he rebutted.

you mentally face palmed yourself in frustration. why is he so smart and dumb at the same time.

"mark, that's not why i mean. we're being to touchy, every time we are left alone the next thing we knew we're touching each other. do you know how scary was that to me? it only happened twice but i am already longing for more! when i don't feel your touches i go craaazy! i even touched myself for freaking 2-" you froze when you realize what you were telling him you stared blankly at him.

on the other hand, mark was very pleased hearing you exploded from frustration as you became honest for the first time.

"you touched yourself? what 2?" he smirked and lifted his brows.

you cleared your throat.

"can i borrow your ipad? i need your case 3." you murmured and look anywhere but him your face heat up. you want to be swallowed by your favorite sofa.

"then get it."

you look at his ipad sitting on his manly wide spread apart thighs. your eyes stared at the mark that makes your knees weak and wet pussy. his fiery eyes looking directly toyou while he was sitting comfortably on the couch and arms are both in each side of the armrest.

"mark lee, i need it." you tried to use your stern voice but failed because your voice was too small.

"i told you, you can get it.. here." he glanced at his ipad.

you gulped and the living room's air became thick. your submissive self switched on and you just found yourself walking towards him. your hands felt cold as you reached for his ipad. when you lifted it, his bulge forming in his gray sweatpants made you almost drool. you were reminded how fucking hot it was.

you want to touch it and do anything you can possibly could but your single rational braincells keeping you in the light.

"you don't seem sure of what you really wanted to do." he snapped you from overthinking. "should i make you choices?"

"what?" you asked confusingly but your voice was shaking.

"you bring that ipad with you and go back to where you were sitting, or..." he looked up to you with his dark eyes, leaning a little forward you trace the side of your hips with his palm..

"put the ipad on the table and sit in my lap."

mark knew that you can never say no at this state. if you could only see how your body shivered and how defeated your face was, he knew you already gave in.

and his was right.

the original draft was deleted because of my stupidity 😭 idk think this is good as the original draft.

hello, some of you asked me if i have a tag list, i will be creating one.

✨if you want to be added in I'm Right For You Tag List, you can DM or Ask me so i can add you ✨

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Tag List:

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anyways, i would like to say thank you for supporting this story. i did not expect some of you will like it. i also want to thanks people who leaving message through dms and ask praising this story. also to those nctzens hearting it 🥺🤗

[outrunningthedark]

I would also like to say, as a neurodivergent person who struggles a lot, with hundreds and hundreds of scars to my name (that are also hard to hide but CAN be hidden!), who has daily nightmares full of blood and Gore, with panic attacks and migraines, and anxiety that makes me unable to speak or get out of bed on some days, with so many also physical issues that stem from my mental state - I am still able bodied. I have the ability to walk, and walk out the front door, I have the ability to climb a tree if I feel comfortable enough, I can hike up mountains and theoretically build my own house. I can take any form of transportation physically without accommodation. I can go to work on my own, drive a car, I can do physical jobs. And yeah, sometimes I will fail and won't be able to do them bc of my head, I can't wear certain things or go certain places, or withstand certain noises without a breakdown, and yeah, that's acknowledged on here and slowly in the world. People understand anxiety and fear, they understand grief and sometimes depression. And I can wager, if I do certain things, if I use my skills and stims and make sure to rest up before and after and be careful, I can maybe go to an amusement park and survive.

But physical disability is an afterthought AT MOST in near to all places. And besides not having accommodating surroundings and things, I can't imagine how infuriating it must be to just happen to be one of those 7% who never did anything wrong to deserve this, who cannot choose, who simply physically cannot do certain things even if they did try every trick in the book.

Being mentally ill is absolutely infuriating and frustrating as well, and we are allowed to be angry. Bc yes we will be judged, buy our physical appearance might not show any hints of our mental state, and we might not be judged at the first millisecond. But the physically disabled do. And there's at least just as many misconceptions about physical disabilities among the able-bodied and neurotypical IF NOT MORE.

I hope I didn't phrase anything wrong here or said anything upsetting but my whole point is: they have a right to be mad, and feel frustrated and let it out. Life isn't fair, no. But that doesn't mean we should be thankful for any crumb we get. Someone might say the same thing about queer lives "be happy you're not getting killed for who you love" but is that a life? No.

We are allowed to feel hurt and angry at a world that chooses to leave us behind, and honestly - and I use the we as a "humans in general" but I specifically mean our physically disabled friends and community here. They have a right to raise their voice and cry out their grief bc yeah, they hurt and it's not fun, and we (the rest of the world) shouldn't be letting them sit quietly with their pain.

Historically, no one ever gets anything out of being silent about their struggles. Change only comes with raised voices and emotion, with protest and anger. Because all the privileged will try to silence you and tell you "be happy I am not making your life more of a hell", like those parents who say "hey, I never hurt you physically, so shut up"

And obviously I'm getting real emotional about this and I can't my words across right but as someone who was always always pushed to not allowed to be angry about anything, bc hey at least genocidal people weren't shooting at my house, my parents saved me from that, I get to live a 'normal' life, I should be always be grateful for everything. But no, we all as living beings, have a right to be angry at a world that's trying to screw us over and use our pain for their own gain and just not care.

If you're mentally ill, you have a right to be angry at the world, and at the things that have traumatized you, or for being born the way you are, and for the way people treat you as less because of it.

And just like that, the disabled community is allowed to rage against the whole fucking world for what they have to go through.

Be angry. It's not a personal attack against anyone who's not physically disabled. If anything, we who are neurodivergent of mentally disabled/disordered should be more capable of understanding that anger.

(I hope this is okay T 🙈 I've been repressing myself a lot this past months and I've been worn thin and I haven't ranted in a while 🙈 also more people will see it on your blog than mine I wager )

FIRST OF ALL, sorry I let this linger in my inbox for a few, but THANK YOU SO MUCH for sharing your experiences with me and everyone else who's gonna see this on my blog! I know it's not easy opening up to people for fear of judgment and rejection, so I hope you can use this moment as a (future) reminder that you are, in fact, tougher and more courageous than you previously thought. ❣❣❣ I don't think people who take issue with my choice to highlight the differences in visible v. invisible disability realize that I, too, have conditions strangers cannot see. - I don't have to speak about my anxiety, especially in social situations (tbh, I hide it so well that when I *do* admit it's a problem I'm met with surprise/skepticism) - I don't have to speak about my depression, body dysmorphia, or ED - I don't have to speak about my digestive issues or bladder malfunction - I don't have to speak about how much pain I'm in on a daily basis - I don't have to speak about the surgeries I've undergone if my scars are covered up, nor must I speak about the scars I've given myself from clawing at my skin during a bad headspace (again, as long as you can't see them. When they ARE visible I've been met with a variety of questions because "those don't look good." SORRY, IT'S THE ANXIETY.) - I've literally never had anybody use the word "neurodivergent" to describe my brain function, hence why I am just NOW understanding that it does fit my condition. I don't have that label attached to my name, my personality, and I'm sure it gives me somewhat of an advantage because I don't fit what people think of when they hear the term 'cerebral palsy'. Were I more cognitively impaired, or dealing with a learning disability, or seizures (things that can happen to people with CP!), then a lot of you would have an easier time accepting my condition because neurodiversity is more heavily discussed and explained in places like this. The fact of the matter is that my physical self, my appearance...it's my biggest obstacle on a daily basis. It's disheartening to come online and see people with invisible disabilities not only pushing wheelchair users to the side (I mean, how many reminders do we need that the majority of the disabled are not wheelchair-dependent? Do you know what that's gonna do? Make the ignorant think there's so few of us remaining that accommodations for wheelchairs aren't as important as they were led to believe.), but they perpetuate this narrative that visible disabilities are better because we don't have to explain ourselves. Idk what y'all have been smoking, but maybe I should try some. I had to CRY in front of my orthopedic surgeon to finally get an MRI on my spine + eventual fusion that actually eliminated my asthma. It was 10 YEARS after first being diagnosed with scoliosis AND kyphosis. I SUFFERED FOR 10 YEARS WITH PAIN AND UNNCESSARY ASTHMA because my previous doctor didn’t believe the x-rays looked “bad enough” to warrant a more detailed scan.  My knees are fucked up for life from years of crawling, and though that is technically "my fault" because I had no other choice (my house wasn't wide enough for a wheelchair or walker at the time), my doctor never listened to my concerns when the pain first started. He never ordered an x-ray, or MRI, or even sought assistance from PTs re: alternatives to crawling. I have to downplay my pain (especially nerve pain) because doctors don't give you shit for it! Chronic illness/chronic pain has made some advancements and those affected can at least try different medications to see if they help. There is NO medication for CP-specific pain and spasticity. I *think* we don't get painkillers for the same reason one of my doctors was "meh" about the idea of me trying CBD - they don't want us impairing our brain function anymore than it already is. We have no say. It's never a topic of discussion. The operation I got to improve my bladder function has been around for decades and yet it wasn't until I was 18 that this procedure was mentioned to me as an option. "Nobody's brought this up before?" Umm, if they had I would have done it already :)) My doctors just kept prescribing antibiotics and sending me home. These are just some examples. I'm currently in the process of debating whether it's worth asking for some kind of autoimmune testing because my wounds are slow-healing (some even look like burn marks and I have no recollection of how they happened) and I don't have diabetes. Will I be heard? Doubtful!

Feeling excluded when I focus on visible/physical disabilities is exactly how I feel every time someone with a disability has to point out they don't depend on a wheelchair everyday. That conversation isn't something I can relate to, so I make the decision to have my own, even if it's just me talking to myself. The point is to remind myself and anyone else who might care what I have to say that we're still here and we still matter. Disability awareness needs to include ALL disabilities, not just the ones younger generations understand and feel more comfortable with since these days everyone knows someone with mental illness/ADHD/autism etc.

[sugarandspace]

Hi! This is the first time I've ever sent you a prompt off anon, but here goes. I loved your fic about Jace & Alec, "You are hurt" set after the 3x18 breakup. I was wondering if you could write something similar to that, just not set after that breakup. Maybe Alec is training too hard and Jace catches him? I'm just in the mood for your parabatai feels. Whatever's upsetting Alec is up to you. I really love your writing! 💙 If you choose to accept my prompt, there's absolutely no rush to do it :)

Em!!💙 Thank you for the prompt and kind words!! I hope you like this!

(Surprisingly Good) Brotherly Advice

AO3

Jace has felt the general unease underneath his skin for the better part of the day. He knew it was coming from Alec but it didn’t feel urgent enough to find the other man and make him talk. When the night falls and it’s way past the time Alec usually goes back home and Alec has still not calmed down, he starts to really worry. When he starts to feel the ache in his hands he knows he can no longer ignore it.

He needs to find Alec and he can already guess where he’ll find his parabatai.

Usually,  Jace loves nothing more than being right. It’s different now, however, when he turns the corner to the training room and finds Alec there alone, throwing punches at a punching bag. He doesn’t need to see Alec’s hands to know that he hasn’t wrapped them, the pain in Jace’s own strong enough that it must be close to unbearable for Alec.

But Alec keeps hitting the bag like his life depends on it.

“That’s really not good for you,” Jace says as he walks into the room. Alec doesn’t turn to look at him, doesn’t even stop what he’s doing. He’s out of breath as he answers.

“Go away, Jace.”

“You and I both know I’m not going to do that,” Jace replies, and he ignores the wave of irritation that comes through their bond. He can’t let his brother keep hurting himself.

Jace rests a hand on Alec’s shoulder and Alec turns around swiftly, his chest heaving as he glares down at Jace.

“Go. Away,” Alec says again, and his words come out half as a growl. Jace doesn’t bat an eyelid. He knows that Alec is not really angry at him.

“Either you go home to Magnus or we spar,” Jace says, giving Alec an option. He understands that Magnus is the person Alec feels the most comfortable talking to, and Jace accepts that. But there must also be a reason Alec hasn’t already done that.

His guess is right when Alec pushes him back and walks to where the wooden staffs are kept.

“Alright,” Jace says and catches the staff Alec throws at him.

They fall into a familiar rhythm, the only noises in the room coming from their staffs coming to contact or the grunts and groans that leave their lips. Alec is putting a lot of energy into his hits but it’s clear that his mind is not completely in the fight.

���Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jace asks after a while.

“No,” Alec replies through gritted teeth.

“So you are just going to keep sulking?” Jace asks, blocking a particularly nasty hit from Alec.

“I’m not sulking,” Alec denies.

“You aren’t fooling anyone, Alec,” Jace calls his weak bluff. “Least of all me, or Magnus. He’s going to notice the second you go home.”

“Shut up,” Alec says again, moving forward and forcing Jace to move back.

“I assume that’s the reason you haven’t gone home yet,” Jace continues as if Alec never said a thing.

Alec’s next hit has so much force behind it that his staff breaks as it makes contact with Jace’s.

It’s like something in Alec snaps too, because his tone doesn’t have any of the anger it previously had when he talks next.

“I can’t tell him,” he says. He turns and walks away to place the broken staff next to the wall.

“What do you mean?” Jace asks. His tone is calmer too, now that he’s got Alec to open up. He goes to put his own staff away and sits next to Alec on a bench in the training room.

Alec is leaning his elbows to his knees and his head is hanging low in defeat, his bruised hands clasped behind his head in a way that looks uncomfortable. He speaks so quietly Jace almost misses his words.

“They have offered me a position in Alicante.”

“Alec that’s great! What kind of position?” Jace asks as he hits Alec’s shoulder. As long as Jace has known his brother, Alec has been aiming towards a high-ranking position. It’s what he has been training for his whole life.

But as Jace hears the answer, whispered towards Alec’s shoes with a tone that’s defeated rather than joyous, he wonders what has changed.

“They want me to be the new Inquisitor.”

“You don’t want that?” Jace questions, his tone confused. He truly can’t imagine anyone better than Alec for the position.

“Of course I want it,” Alec says. He lifts his head so he’s finally looking at Jace again. “I want it more than almost anything in the world. That position would help me unite the Shadow World. It’s something I haven’t even dared to dream about. I never thought they would want me there.”(surprisingly Good) Brt

“What is stopping you?” Jace asks, still not seeing a problem.

“I won’t leave Magnus,” Alec says. His tone is certain, leaving no room for argument. “I can’t go home, because Magnus will notice that something is going on, and I’m going to tell him, and he’s going to feel bad. We’ve already been through this once, and he knows I won’t leave him. But he also knows what the position would mean to me and he’s going to feel responsible for me not being able to accept it.”

“Oh,” Jace answers eloquently, because what is he supposed to say to that. He hadn’t considered that Downworlders can’t live in Alicante and it probably wouldn’t be practical for Alec to portal there every day, even if he has a warlock husband who wouldn’t mind taking care of his transport to work and back home.

“Yeah,” Alec says. “I know I need to tell him but-”

Alec’s words fade to silence, showing how lost he feels with the situation. Jace knows that if it came to that and Alec had to choose, he would never regret picking Magnus. But he would be sad to pass the opportunity to work as the inquisitor and have better means to accomplish change.

Suddenly something comes to Jace’s mind.

“Why do they want you?”

“Huh?” Alec asks, looking back at Jace.

“Why do they want you to be the next Inquisitor?” Jace asks.

“They want a better relationship with the Downworld,” Alec explains. “They’ve seen the results we have accomplished here in New York, and believe that having me as the Inquisitor would help build some trust.

“They know you are together with Magnus,” Jace says.

“Yeah,” Alec says, a small smile on his lips. “If my first wedding wasn’t enough, they should have gotten the point after the second.”

Jace rolls his eyes.

“You have a point there,” he says. “What I meant is that they know you’re with him, and they must know that you’re not going to leave him for a job. Why would they offer you this job if they weren’t willing to do some kind of a compromise?”

“You think-” Alec starts but Jace cuts him off.

“He’s the warlock who saved Alicante,” Jace says. “They owe him. They need to let him move there with you. You should send them a message first thing tomorrow and demand that you’ll only accept the position if Magnus can move to Alicante with you.”

Suddenly Alec doesn’t look as hopeless anymore.

“I need to talk to Magnus first,” he says, almost to himself. “I need to make sure he would want to come. New York has been his home for a long time, and I don’t know how he would feel about living among Shadowhunters. Of course everything would be just a portal away and…”

“Yeah,” Jace says, smiling as he feels some of the weight lift from Alec’s shoulders. “Yeah, you do that.”

“Thank you, Jace,” Alec says sincerely. It feels so good to see him smile again.

“Always,” Jace says with a nod and he watches as Alec goes to leave the training room.

“Oh,” he says. He walks to where Alec had stopped and turned to look at him again. Jace takes a stele out of his pocket and lifts the hem of Alec's shirt enough to run the stele over the iratze just above his parabatai rune. Jace drops the shirt and watches as Alec flexes his healed fingers.

"Thanks," Alec says quietly, keeping his eyes on his hand rather than looking Jace in the eyes. Jace knows it's a difficult topic and he thinks they've done enough talking for today, so with his hands finally healed Jace feels okay with letting him go.

"Go home," Jace says, a smile on his face as he gently pushes Alec's shoulder. "Your husband is waiting."

"Goodnight Jace," Alec says as he turns to leave for a second time.

This time Jace lets him go.

Wired from their sparring, it takes a moment before Jace feels calm enough to go to bed. He goes to his room and showers before getting comfortable with a book. Before he falls asleep he focuses on his parabatai rune, and he knows he can rest easy when the last bits of anxiety have left his parabatai and all he can sense is happiness and relief.

[unicornprincessinthetardis]

My (often relatively reasonable) dad: ...so Enoch Powell was right, what he said has happened.

Me: and you don't think maybe he could've said it without inciting racial hatred and literally saying that in time the rivers might run with the blood of 'native' British people because of immigration, do you?

My dad: no, you're being ridiculous, it had to be said, and there really are areas of cities that are majority black or Muslim now so he was right in his predictions, and it didn't change how things were anyway

Me: *goes away to calm down and read up on the 'Rivers of Blood' speech*

[I already knew some of this but here's a précis for those unfamiliar: in April 1968, in Wolverhampton, UK, a Conservative MP, Enoch Powell, made a speech, about the proposed 'Race Relations Bill' (which subsequently made it illegal to refuse housing/ employment/public services to people on the grounds of race/colour/ ethnic & national origins).

The speech was strongly anti-immigrant, calling for 'voluntary re-emigration' and for moves to be made to stem the tide of immigration, else Britain would be 'overrun' and sooner or later white British people would find themselves fully second-class citizens, and that in some ways they already were. He also talked about a "tragic and intractable phenomenon which we watch with horror on the other side of the Atlantic", which I take to mean immigration in the USA to the similar end of white people no longer being in charge - which in 1968 was so far from the truth, and just horrible baseless fear-mongering, playing on people’s xenophobia and racist prejudice - and compared pro-immigration/anti-discrimination newspapers to the ones that had denied and hid the rise of fascism and threat of war in the 1930s. Plus, he talked about a constituent of his, a woman who lived on a street that had become occupied by mostly black people, who lost her white lodgers and complained to the council for a tax rate reduction because she wouldn't take black tenants, and instead basically got told not to be racist, and presented it as a bad thing that she'd been treated like that.

The speech's common name comes from a phrase he quoted from the Aenid (because he was also a Cambridge-educated classics scholar), 'I seem to see "the River Tiber foaming with much blood"', although he just called it 'the Birmingham speech' and seemed to be surprised by the uproar he caused.]

Me (to self): So it didn't change things did it? How do you explain the attacks against nonwhite people where the attackers literally shouted his name and repeated his rhetoric? Oh, they would definitely have happened if he hadn't made that speech, wouldn't they? And the British people of foreign descent who were so afraid they might be removed from their lives just for not being white they always had cases packed to go? And the fact that experts says he set back progress in 'race relations' by about ten years and legitimised being racist/anti-immigrant in the same way UKIP and some pro-Brexit types have done within the last few years here (fun fact: immediately after the Brexit vote, people were being racially and physically abusive to visibly Muslim and/or South Asian people, telling them to leave because of Brexit, which was of course extreme nonsense because their presence would be nothing to do with the EU, and more likely the British Empire and the Commonwealth, but they were doing it because it seemed suddenly okay to be openly racist, because Nigel Farage and his ilk, and a legally non-binding vote surrounded in lies, said so) and others have done elsewhere, in the US and Europe and Brazil and so many other places.

Powell was interviewed about the speech in 1977 and stood by his views, said that because the immigration figures were higher than those he had been 'laughed at' about in his speech, he was right and now governments didn't want to deal with the "problem", were passing it off to future generations and it would go on until there was a civil war!

He also said he wasn't a 'racialist' (racist) because he believed a "'racialist' is a person who believes in the inherent inferiority of one race of mankind to another, and who acts and speaks in that belief" so he was in fact "a racialist in reverse" as he regarded "many of the peoples in India as being superior in many respects—intellectually, for example, and in other respects—to Europeans." (I mean, I know I can't hold him to our standards but a) that's still racism and b) he did think that mankind was divided into very distinct, probably biologically so, races, which, yes, normal for the time, but the whole 'each with different qualities and ways in which they were better than others' is iffy)

Me: *goes back to Dad to make my point and definitely not get upset* So here are some things that literally happened as a consequence of the 'Rivers of Blood' speech...

So even if he was correct to say what he did (I mean, he wasn't but you have to tiptoe around Dad and I had points to make), he shouldn't have said it the way he did

My dad: so you think the truth should be suppressed? You're only looking at this from one perspective (he thinks he knows better because he was alive at the time and my brother and I weren't despite the fact that we're both into politics and history and, y'know, not into scapegoating, behaving oddly, and laying blame because people are different to us - he and mum also have issues with trans people and we're trying so hard to change their views/behaviours but I'm not sure it's working & that's a whole different story) and there are these areas that really are Muslim-only (because informal lending and wanting to keep the community together is such a crime, right?) and they don't integrate and want to impose Sharia law (only he couldn't remember what it was called right then) and you don't know what it's like (he is an engineer surveyor and travels all over to inspect boilers and cooling systems and all sorts of stuff, and this includes into majority-Black or -Asian (Muslim and otherwise) areas in Birmingham - which is not a no-go area for non-Muslims, I'm a deeply agnostic white woman, it's my nearest big city and I wish I went there more often but it's tricky as I don't drive, public transport is bad/inconvenient, and I have no friends to go with except depression and anxiety [which are worse 'friends' than the ones that I found out only liked me in high school because I always had sweets and snacks at lunch so when I got braces and my mouth hurt too much to eat much of anything which meant I certainly didn't have snacks, they dropped me pretty quickly] so apparently he's the expert on all such matters)

What I wish I'd said: *staying very calm* well, and that's your opinion, I'm going, I've got sewing to finish *leaves*

What actually happened:

Me: have you considered that they are able to buy up areas like that because white people leave because of their prejudice against the 'influx'?

Dad: they buy up great areas because they buy in groups (I think this refers to a sort of community lending thing to be compliant with various parts of Islam? [Please correct me if I'm wrong] which is effectively what building societies/credit unions were, at least to begin with, and he doesn't take issue with those) and want to stay together. Why do they do that? Sikhs don't do that, they buy big houses and aren't bothered about being close together.

Me: different religious ethoses? I don't know... But you do know that they people who want the UK to be a caliphate ruled by Sharia law are just a minority, and that most Muslims would not want that at all, just like you?

Dad: but they still do want it, and it could happen, if there was a charismatic leader,

Me: *incredulous* you know it's about as likely for that to actually happen as for strictly Orthodox Jewish people to be able to make this country into another Israel, right? Besides, there are the police, and the armed forces, and intelligence agencies, not to mention the Government and civil service (thought I'd got a win there, he hates the unchanging upper-class-public-school-Oxbridge nature of the people who effectively really run the government, constant no matter the leaning of the elected party, but no) who have a vested interest in preserving themselves in their current state so would be able to stop anything like that

Dad: yes, but the cutting of funding to police and public services means they might not be able to stop it (I realise now that he's oddly economically left-wing but also really quite socially conservative in some ways)

Me: *getting angry* but it's still an absolute minority, most Muslims would be horrified if it really did happen, and have you ever considered that maybe they wouldn't be so ill-disposed to us and to integration if we didn't demand it of them the moment that they arrive, demand that they assimilate or go away (he often uses the phrase "yes, but they're in somebody else's country, they should make an effort") and maybe young people wouldn't be so easily radicalised and people generally mistrust the people who don't try to understand them, you know, want them to change everything about themselves (for instance, Dad is violently opposed to the burqa etc and not really a fan of the hijab - still doesn't get that it's a choice and people can do what they want because apparently 'anyone could be wearing one of those things' - burqas/niqabs, I presume - and that it must all be forced because who would possibly choose to dress like that - I have half a mind to show him those sites about Christian modest dressing (one was a shop and a lot of their range was pretty cute!) that I once found, just to see if that'll prove to him it is a choice thing) *tries to leave*

Dad: *angry* You stay there and listen to me! You're just looking at it from one perspective and that's not the truth, you're so biased and closed-minded, you only look at things your way!

Me: *furious* Really? Really? Am I? *Scoffs/incredulous exhalation* I'm closed-minded, am I?... *Storms out, shouts as I go* I'm not the one who said Enoch Powell was right!!

This is all heavily paraphrased, because I've been writing this for literal hours now and I was angry and don't remember well at the best of times, it may have been worse than how I'm writing it

Also, going to be tricky to patch up but right now I stand by what I said, because I know my perspective is limited, but at least I actually admit that and try to find out what people different to me think, rather than basing all my opinions and things on my own experiences which can't be universal, as he seems to

Other bs my dad said during the two conversations: "don't get so upset about it, it's only history" (which is bold, considering it was the 50th anniversary this year and he was literally 11 years old when it happened so probably saw/heard news coverage)... "Yes of course far right groups use 'Enoch was right' as a slogan, it doesn't mean anything"... Reiterating the 'nothing changed' thing multiple times... Dismissing the fact that Powell said there'd be a civil war because apparently just because the British/Europeans were aggressive conquerors anyone else who came in numbers anywhere would eventually have that aim and how ridiculous that view actually is... Dismissing the fact that Powell basically incited racial hatred and violence with the inclusion of an irrelevant Classical phrase which spread fear on all sides...

I could go on but I'm so tired and don't want to make myself more upset

I love my parents but I really don't like them very much lately but I don't know if I just put up with it or leave sooner or later and if I do leave I don't know where I'd go because no friends

Basically I'm so sorry for my parents' prejudices which I'm still trying to unlearn myself - I apologise wholeheartedly to all Muslim and Jewish people and honestly pretty much everyone they're prejudiced against

[sl-c]

Hey sim, what is it that u get anxious about? Like for me I know I get anxious about what people think of me, if I'm doing the right thing with my life, commitments and deadlines etc.. Do u experience that kind of anxiety or more just an anxious frame of mind, where anything could make you worry. Feel free not to answer this btw because it's pretty personal and tbh I'm not rly sure what I'm asking. Anyway, love you and hope that you work everything out! You're an inspiration :))) xxxxx

It’s kinda complicated but basically I have a heightened sense of anxiety all of the time so what might make some one a little anxious is going to seem to make me very anxious but it’s just that I was already anxious & it has simply added to that. In saying that though there are certain things & areas that particularly trigger anxiety for me. These are largely to do with time, in particular making the most of my life before I die - e.g. making the right decisions so I don’t waste time, making long-term commitments (e.g. career paths, study paths, relationships), time commitments (e.g. appointments, catching public transport, traffic) etc. However, my anxiety is also triggered by things like large/noisy crowds, sleep & food. So quite a broad spectrum.

If you get anxiety about what people think of you, learning who you are & being confident in who you are really help that. I mean, I know that’s really generic & a lot easier said then done but having that time to work yourself out really does help & you don’t give as much of a shit when you feel confident in what your’e doing. Also, I’d recommend getting rid of people in your life that make you feel self conscious - whether that’s distancing yourself from certain friends, unfollowing ‘#goals’ people on IG that make you feel self-conscious (this is awesome & super easy) etc. 

In terms of deadlines, try things like having a big calendar on your wall with countdown numbers & things you can tick off to be prepared - e.g. 16 days before your assignment is due you want to have a certain amount of it done etc. Basically, preparation & doing things that make you feel more organised & ready can help. 

Of course there are also generic meditative & relaxation activities you can do like being with nature, listening to music, exercising, yoga, art, whatever helps you feel at peace. 

Hope that helps & thank you for the kind supportive words xxxx