#never felt so consistently that way with any other mental health professionals

[endereies]

ONE MORE DAY

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Contains: Mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of depression and anxiety, happy ending, heavy angst - sorry not sorry

Requested?: no

Author's notes: I really enjoyed writing this, especially with sad music like take care or duster playing. that shit hits.

Word Count: 3954

Dealing with mental health wasn’t a new situation in your relationship with Matt. He has had anxiety problems since he was 11 and has always been open about it, whether that was to his family or to his fans. However, that was a skill that you lacked.

Matt was always talking to you whenever he felt anxious in a situation, finding that his concerns seemed to lessen when he was around you. He had often silently latched on to your hand in a public environment as he focused on the warmth between your palms.

He confided in you after a stressful day of filming and taking pictures addressing how he particularly felt in each moment.

And you would always accept these small rants of anxious build up because you didn’t want him to feel the same way that you did.

You had internally struggled with your own anxiety for a few years, more recently symptoms of depression.

You never told Matt about any of this, not that you didn’t trust him with the information, you just didn’t want to overbear him when he had his own anxiety to manage.

You blamed yourself for selfish thoughts whenever he felt anxious at the same times as you, often relying on the same hand holding that he did to simultaneously calm you both down.

Over these years of having anxiety, you learnt what your tells were when feeling anxiety build up inside and tried to hide them whenever you could. And when you couldn’t? You’d hide in your room and cancel plans until that overbearing feeling went away.

-

This type of day had grown to be typical for you, one that consisted of a growing pit in your stomach caused by emotions you no longer felt in control of. You were left in your bed scratching at your wrists, the actions only growing harder the more you couldn’t satisfy the ‘itch’ that tore through under your skin. One left behind from previous nights.

As much as anxiety wasn’t a new feeling to you, your self-harm methods were. Of course, you had known about it, and how bad it was to deal with. The addiction of the lines that changed colour the more the razor dug into the flesh, or the harshness of reality that stepped in and out of your mind. It wasn’t enough to deter you and last night you gave in once more. Wanting to feel something else consistently other than that pit that sunk more every day.

The feeling was addictive, but it grew harder to hide from people, especially Matt. The constant handholding or affection made you paranoid and so you pulled back from him. You didn’t want him to find out.

The more you pulled back, however, the more that Matt grew concerned.

You had overheard him talking to Chris and Nick about how he thought you were starting to fall out of love with him, but to you those accusations couldn’t be further from the truth. To you Matt was a break from that feeling, making you smile subconsciously on days when all you wanted to do was turn off from everything. It was selfish the amount of time you craved with him, selfish the amount of things you wouldn’t tell him, selfish the number of times you cancelled plans made in advance over something you desperately needed to control.

But as much as you loved him, and had tried to privately talk to professionals, this feeling grew way more than you had ever wanted, and it had begun to wear you and others down.

-

“Are you cancelling again, y/n? We’ve had this day planned for a week now.” Matt voice was tainted with disappointment, and it took me a while before I got the courage to respond to him.

“I’m sorry Matt, something just came up and it’s urgent.” My breathe shook after I had finished, hating the more lies I had created the last month.

“Can I at least come over tomorrow..?” As much as I didn’t want to, I felt like I needed to see him, in a hope that I would feel somewhat better.

“Yeah, course..” And with that I hung up the phone, before either of us got another chance to speak.

That night I got to writing, the mood from earlier spilling over my brain and into my tears that were evident on the paper. The words were messy but said all I needed them to. I just hoped that whoever read it, understood all I was ever silently saying to them. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.

-

After a rough night’s sleep and a few hours in bed I dragged myself out of it and towards the shower. I sighed once my skin made contact with the water trying to relax my arm under the sting of the water pressure.

 I made sure not to spend more time than I had to in the shower, needing enough time to get dressed and get something to eat before Matt arrived.

The outfit didn’t seem like much, but it did hide a lot more. I grabbed an old hoodie and tossed it over a plain black t-shirt. The sweatpants I threw on matched my shirt and hung loosely on my hips.

Dishes has started to stack up in my sink, but I wasn’t prepared to wash them all and I was thankful that Matt never minded, as long as we were able to talk with one another. The food I picked out was just a small bowl of cereal that I have had for several days now but it was one of the only foods I was okay with eating. I felt too tired to finish the bowl and simply abandoned it next to the identical unfinished bowl over by the sink.

It wasn’t long before I heard a knock at my front door, and I instantly knew it was Matt. I gathered my mind and opened the door for him with a smile on my face.

“Hey baby, how was the ride over?” I shut the door behind him after he enters to lean on the door to take off his shoes.

“Traffic was okay, I’m just glad I get to see you again” As much as I know he meant well, his words stung a bit and made my heart drop slightly. Luckily, his back was still facing me, and he couldn’t see it happen.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you yesterday” Matt’s body faces mine once he pushes his shoes to the side and walks towards me with a meek smile displayed on his face.

“y/n, it’s okay, things come up. I get it.” He put his arm around my waist and rubs my waist lightly, just caressing the skin underneath, I pull away as quick as the touch begin and I feel his touch linger onto my skin, making my guilt apparent.

I wander around the kitchen for a moment, thinking of an excuse for leaving Matt until my eyes fall onto a selection of sodas and drinks.

“Want anything to eat or drink at all..?” my fingers trace the glass bottles slowly before landing onto the cans and picking a Pepsi.

“I’ll have a Pepsi with you, baby.” I smile as I hand him a Pepsi with my free arm and taking it back once I realise, I wasn’t watching how far my sleeve went up. I was grateful that he wasn’t paying any attention.

-

It had been an hour since Matt arrived and we had settled on watching a film, one that Matt had picked out several times before, but we never got bored of it. My duvet covers were shifted around to place both Matt and I underneath for comfort, but I took it as an opportunity for Matt to get close to me without being consumed with paranoia.

His fingers tangled in my hair and gently rubbing my scalp nearly nulled me to sleep. I felt safe enough to relax my body for the first time in over a week and my body ached after being tense for so long.

The feeling of his fingers stroking my hair brought me back to my childhood, one where I felt safely vulnerable in front of my mother who allowed me to watch cartoons while she braided my hair. Moments like these took away from the stress of those previous weeks.

“Do you want me to brush your hair, pretty girl?” I look up at him and weakly nod, feeling a little tired from him stroking my hair.

I have always loved when he plays with my hair and it became a token of affection after long days, and often I would return the favour whenever he asked.

He nods at me with a slight hum for a response before his body shifts under the covers. I sit up and lean off of his chest so that he can leave the bed. I take his place in the bed soon after just so that I can retain the warmth he left behind.

I notice him walking over to my desk and resting his wrists against the top of my chair as support while he scans it for my brush. I don’t pay any attention to it until he moves a drawer, not being able to locate it.

“Baby? It might be in the spare room; I was tidying there in there a while ago.” I try not to mumble within the tiredness I felt and offer him a small smile which he reciprocates.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a second then, want to pause the film?” I only nod in response, looking on the pillows for the remote to pause the show and once it does, Matt disappears to the hallway.

Matt’s Pov:

The spare room door was already open, and I simply pushed it open to glance into the room, the door was immediately put to a halt when it hit a box behind it. Luckily, I had enough of a gap to go through but I was met with more boxes and random items everywhere. This was so unusual for me to see in y/n’s house; she was persistent over how the house had looked and presented itself.

I stand among the clutter before focusing on what I entered the room for, yet once again it wasn’t obvious to me.

The boxes seemed to be filled with clothes and the items were old art projects I had seen her buy for fun, so I crossed those areas off as places to look.

I had been in this room before, yet it seemed so unrecognisable from the other places in the house I had been so used to over the years of knowing y/n. But the large white bookcase was still a standout against the dark blue walls. They didn’t seem as scattered as the rest of the room and so finding the brush became an easier task. Bright blue stood out against the white and I walked towards it to grab it, but I noticed a small stack of papers laid next to it. All folded sporadically with names scribbled all over them. It shouldn’t have peaked my interest but I had never known y/n to journal or write to people, so curiosity got the better of me. The top where names of family members, ones that even I knew well, but once I got through family members, I saw my name in a section next to Nick’s and Chris’s.

It stayed shut in my hand for me moment, my eyes not even deterring to place the pile back onto the shelf. The handwriting seemed rushed and scribbled and it only made me question these actions more. I shouldn’t have looked at the paper and I had already felt guilty for it, before it even happened.

I shouldn’t have opened it.

I started to read the letter to myself, and I sat on the spare bed on the small section that wasn’t already covered with the boxes and my heart sank.

Matt, I am so sorry for doing this, to you or anyone else. I’m still not sure about what I might do but I know that you’d want closure if I did. It’ll make itself clear. And I hope the main point you get from this is that this was never your fault.

I’ve just been feeling so shitty for weeks, maybe months at this point and honestly? I don’t see myself getting any fucking better.

Everything is stressing me out every day and it’s limiting everything I do, I can’t go outside often without someone there to ease my anxiety, nor can I even walk freely in my own home without any fear of being watched by people, and I’m rotting.

You were actually the only help I really had, not that you ever knew it.

I wanted us to last a bit longer than this, our three-year anniversary is in a few months but I’ll be lucky to not do this all by September.

I’ve planned a few things for you, love. I’ve saved all my money aside and sold things you would have trouble doing yourself. I didn’t want that burden on you. I wore several hoodies for you to have and slowly given things to you that I know you adore. That necklace you got me a year ago? The one of the gold star with the thin chain? I saved it for you, you were the wish I got from the stars I lay under in my childhood and I never want you to forget that.

I know this is selfish and I’ve done every way to rid of this feeling, good and bad. I’ve talked to people, talked to people who have gone through similar things and even talked to you about what helps you. I even started to harm myself. ‘Stupid’, I know. It only made me hide from you. Everything, from you.

My love, I’m sorry for this last burden on you, but after today you can rest happily without the castaway feeling I’ve shone on you the past few months.

I love you forever, y/n.

Y/n’ Pov:

“Shit, shit, shit” the words come out stuttered and repeat as I fling the covers from over my waist, realizing my errors.

Matt was taking a longer time than usual and when I looked at my phone, I realised it had nearly been ten minutes. I started to be confused and wondered what could’ve delayed him for so long. I mentally scan the spare room while I shift so that I can sit on the edge of the bed. I remember the boxes that were scattered and the things that were a mess compared to the other sections of my house. Was that a call for his curiosity? That’s when it hit me. The notes that I had left on the bookshelf was obvious and open for anyone to see. I started to panic.

I instantly flung the rest of the duvet off of me and slide off the mattress, muttering cuss words under my breath. I approached the spare room with a heavy chest and opened the door to meet Matt who was sat down on the bed with one hand holding his hair and the other gripping onto a slip of paper that I immediately recognised. His tears had dampened the paper similar to how mine did whilst writing, filled with heartbreak and torment.

It takes him a second to calm down enough and acknowledge that I had ran into the room, both of us with lingering heavy chests.

“Wha-” His voice escaped his lips in a raspy stutter.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked more firmly, some sort of emotion, thick in his voice. Though I couldn’t pull apart whether it was anger or betrayal, could’ve been both.

I tried to response but all that I was able to communicate were small stutters. My palms became sweaty, and the anxious feeling grew in my stomach on the brink of physical pain.

“y/n, tell me this isn’t what I fucking think it is.” His tone remained harsh and cold, but his tears made it sound brittle.

I didn’t want to say anything in fear of how Matt would react, but my silence answered his question for him.

“You have this all planned, don’t you?” His voice was unwavering making me shrink back into the corner by the door I entered prior.

“Don’t you.” I jolt when his voice becomes flat, making the only distinguishable teller of his emotions the tears that continued to fall past his cheeks.

My head nods in response, the small action making Matt take another shaky breath and face me dead on. He sucks in a harsh breath before facing me and speaking again.

“What’s going on.. wha- wh-..” His voice trails off with a break in his voice, making me internally wince.

“It’s nothing I just..needed an expel of stress..” My voice is monotonous but its shaking through the lies that we both know aren’t true. I just needed time to gather what I wanted to say to him.

“This is more than nothing, talk to me y/n.” When he stands up, I suddenly feel like a rabbit under a predatory stare and with my back against the wall, I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. He notices a fearful expression in my eyes and creates distance between us, giving me a chance to step forward which I reluctantly took.

I was conflicted between the fear of how he felt towards me and the comfort I found in him, it was tearing me up inside and he could tell my thoughts were scattered. His own thoughts followed.

“Why didn’t you tell me a- any of this.” His words were swallowed harshly, and more tears threatened to spill over and I felt so guilty.

“You have your own shit to deal with. I couldn’t bore you with mine.” I look off to the side with a flat expression overtaken with so many emotions that I had started to shut down.

“Bore me? Baby this is your wellbeing we are talking about. Y-“ He takes a moment to regain his composure again “You could never bore me, especially with something as serious as this” He looks down at the paper, now slightly crumbled from the tight grip Matt had and the tears that fell.

“Is all of this true y/n, I mean the..self-harm”

I take a deep breath and exhale quickly when I nod my head and say yes with a whimper. My palm subconsciously rubs the fabric over my wrist, and I start to shake my hands with the raw shame of what I had done.

“I need you to know something, okay?” I meet his gaze which was full of compassion and for the first time in this conversation, I felt a little safer.

“I’m not mad at you”.

And with that my body practically collapses onto his and I hold his body tight. My arms wrapped around his waist and gripped the fabric while I choked out sobs into his chest. His own hands lay on my back, one holding the paper and the other rubbing the bottom of my neck back and forth. My heart simply broke with the pure kindness Matt still showed for me.

He broke down above me, hearing small sniffles when he lay his head on top of mine. He held most of my weight with his body and he lowered me on the ground and sat next to me, letting my legs rest under the pressure.

“I’d never, ever be mad at you for this, I just wish you came to me to talk about this. Any of it” Some words were mistakenly for others through the tears that ran down his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, i-“

“Hey hey.. look at me.” My eyes try and focus on Matt, but they stutter and shut tight, releasing the tears that blocked my vision. My throat starts to feel tighter and restricts my breathing slightly.

“Don’t apologise, jus- just talk to me.. what’s happened baby”.

I use a free hand to wipe my face and the breathes that I take in are shaky but are enough to relax my body.

“My anxiety just keeps flaring up, to the point where it’s almost constant and in any situation. Its why I’m cancelling so much on you. I keep feeling so guilty whenever I mess up and so after everything built up, I started to- to self-harm and I just kept getting worse. I didn’t want to bother you when you had your own anxiety to cope with” words spill from my mouth in some sort of word vomit, but it was the only way to say what I needed without feeling so overwhelmed.

I had started to scratch at my wrists gently and I didn’t notice until Matt took my hand in his and caressed the skin lightly, his touch allowing me to ground myself.

“Is this why you shut people out?”

“Yeah..it’s why I’ve been cancelling and distant.” I lay my head down onto his, seeking comfort from his touch.

“What can I do?” Calmness starts to rise through his words, getting rid of most the emotion that tore us down a few moments prior.

“What?”

“I want to help you, you don’t deserve this, baby.” The grip on my palm moves to my arm and shoulder and rubs it while pulling me slightly closer.

“You being here is enough. I was so scared to tell anyone about this, I was so paranoid that they would shut me out. But-“ my eyes welled up again but this time it wasn’t for anxiety. I wasn’t shaking anymore, and my throat eased up the pressure, finally letting me take my first stable breath.

“I’ll never leave, I’m always here to listen and talk when you, literally anything you want.”

My hand raises to hug him tighter, but my shirt gets caught on the skin of my scars and makes me wince and pull back.

“Hey, you alright y/n?” he sits up and hold my hand that pulled away from him and grabs the end of the fabric.

“Mhm just pulled some skin I- I’m fine.”

He looks between the hand he holds and my own gaze asking for permission but before he does anything, I pull the shirt back up towards my elbow. I hear a faint gasp from Matt followed by a shaky exhale, realizing the real damage caused by my mental health.

“Let’s bandage this up, yeah?” he stands up beside me and holds his hand before me to help me up, which I oblige.

-

I look at my arm again and my mind clears from my issues. The severity of my actions caused by my own hands. The person I once admired simply was torn through the skin and it was hard for me to look away. I only did when Matt placed his hand on my chin and made me face him, seeing how long I was staring for.

“M’sorry..” a tight-lipped smile crosses his face before he pulls me in for a hug and rubs my back in a soothing way. Falling into a quiet atmosphere.

“I love you, Matt”.

“I love you more, kid.”

We stay in silence for a bit, only breaking it to sniffle from our tears or to adjust ourselves onto one another.

I was finally feeling the peace I craved for months, and I was happy it was with Matt.

© ENDEREIES 2024

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerssturns @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @raysmayhem-72 @luverboychris @rootbeerworshiper

[punksocks]

Warning Signs That You May Have A Toxic/Karmic Significant Other

Hey everyone, you may have seen my recent post about breaking up with my ex partner after 5.5 years. If not, I’ve been deep in reflection after ending this relationship. My reasons for ending it were that he refused to seek professional help to manage his anger which would come out in constant outbursts of violence (not physical ab*se but hitting walls, kicking furniture, scarring my dog, etc) and his mental health in general. After breaking things off I analyzed our relationship and all the red flags became crystal clear in hindsight. This blog is not only my emotional space to reflect, but also a place to give out advice to make sure you guys feel less alone in the world. So I’ve compiled a list of behaviors that made it clear that in hindsight the relationship was destine to be toxic and could not continue. It’s important to take lessons from painful experiences in order to continue to grow, and that’s what I hope I can help with by sharing my experiences here:

(TW Manipulation, Distressing Themes, Emotional Ab*se)

- They hate your intuition: (they work to make you doubt whatever means you have of self guidance. Whether that’s tarot/astrology, or spirituality in general, or therapy, or your simple gut feelings/reactions to things. They hate them because they know that they’ll be singled out at some point by them so they work to make you not believe in yourself through manipulation/gaslighting. My ex would constantly say the tarot is going to tell me to break up with him, but he never really changed he’d just belittle it and say I was getting weird about spirituality and he’d try to make me doubt myself or choose between the tarot and him. When I asked him to go to therapy he would also say that he was worried the therapist would tell him to break up with me-implying I was the problem. When I would ask him to go anyway he would find a way to avoid it- saying it’s too expensive, too hard to find, he doesn’t have time, etc)

-They constant give you advice that puts you in harm’s way: (My ex always told me I was too quick to cut off people that threw me under the bus and that I was paranoid. When I found out my former business partner was being shady and stealing from me, he told me to keep working with her. I said I had to take things over. He said I had no chance of covering the expenses on my own and that he wasn’t going to help me at all even though he was working a consistent 9-5. I rationalized this as putting too much pressure on him to support me through my apprenticeship over the previous few months, even though by the time we were having this discussion I had picked up a seasonal 9-5 to compensate for starting the business. I still felt guilty because I was asking him to cover the rent at home while I built this business up. I ended up wracking up debt over trying to cover everything myself and he was telling me I was going to fail every step of the way. When I didn’t fail and the business remained open over a year later, he said he had always believed in me every step of the way.)

- They rewrite history (that’s the other thing- when I broke up with him he said it was his idea to open the studio in the first place. This was a lie. A bold one at that. At the time I would have had to become self taught due to dealing with several egotistical mentors (wow thematic) and I looked for positions in other studios and there were none. My ex told me I should “pause” my goals. I told him I’ll open up my own space with another artist. He had a long talking down to me about how we couldn’t afford any of that, and how impossible it was, etc. But I went through with it anyway, effectively doing all the work on my own. He constantly told me what I was doing was crazy. But I made success out of it, thank God. Now my ex is trying to take credit for the whole thing as if I don’t remember what happened. Audacious.)

- Instead of having their own dreams they focus on wearing yours down (I have so many big dreams I want to accomplish and every other idea I shared with my ex was pushed back on or breadcrumbed. I wanted to live abroad, he’d say it’s too expensive but maybe he could find a way to make it work if I stopped putting so much pressure on him. I took over my own business, he told me I shouldn’t do it and should quit while I’m ahead. He would always try to counter every idea I had with a “logical reason” of why it wouldn’t work. He would try to control me by doubting me and in turn trying to get me to doubt myself. I never actually listened to him in hindsight, and when I pushed through successfully he would pretend to have been on my side the whole time.)

-They always compare you to their exes, in bold ways (My ex would always go out of his way to bring up his past relationships. The examples and instances were never appropriate. But one of the first worst early examples was when we were at a show. My friend’s band was playing. In the middle of the set he decided to look up his ex on social media. I was clearly uncomfortable but he continued. Then when we’re talking he brought up a nickname she used to call him that was inappropriate. When I was upset by this he threw a shirt (merch gifted to him by my friend’s band) in the booth almost hitting me with it and he stormed off. He made himself seem like the victim in a situation where he was trying to bait me into starting a public argument and yet made me soothe him afterward.)

- The betrayal of not ever being believed (early on this was another giant red flag in hindsight. I’m black and I tried to explain colorism to him, while I was having a bad experience with it. He’s white and should have been listening and understanding with open ears. Instead he tried to argue me down for being “mean” to light skinned black people. In the experience I was talking about how a mixed femme at work established a boundary with our white bosses to try to avoid racist harm. They let the femme do this without any pushback. I tried to establish the same boundary in the same meeting and those white bosses accused me of actively refusing to do my job. I told my ex this was colorist and that’s when he argued with me about this. He didn’t believe my experiences until he googled “the right articles”. When I brought this up in the future he would say he was just trying to see all black people as equal. It was a pretty disgusting defense.)

- Throwing insults in your face about past trauma (I told my ex about how emotionally abusive my mother was (wow there’s that pattern again) and he would throw this in my face and blame me or compare me to her at the slightest provocation in several arguments. When I was disrespected at work, he would blame me for misinterpreting things. Complaining about how I used him for money whenever I had asked him for help managing the business’ expenses. And so many deep cuts of things he should never said to me and names he shouldn’t have called me if he ever cared about me. He always wrote it off as me misremembering or him meaning it as something else or a distraction tactic of whataboutism -‘what about when you complained that I left dirty clothes on the floor?’ For example. All ways he tried to manipulate me from seeing this pattern of messed up behavior. Every argument he would make us talk in circles until I would have to give up from frustration and exhaustion.)

-They’re full of hot air, and if they seem like they aren’t they’re probably mirroring you (when I broke up with him I stopped hanging out with him pretty much immediately. Although I had to coordinate moving out still, I started keeping my head down to focus on my work. Essentially I had already moved on. I thought we had had deep discussions about the world and life but when I had less to say he had nothing to add. He would just keep filling up the air with anecdotes about nothing and commentary on anything just to keep crossing my boundaries and to try to force me to pay attention to him when it was clear I neither interested or comfortable doing so.)

- They try to force you to become as cynical and jaded as they are (I was never antagonistic per se, but when we were together I had unconsciously started looking/preparing for the worst in every scenario and every person I’d meet. Because of my ex’s toxic influence. Getting along with coworkers? They must be just “kissing up to you” according to him. Like that tv show most people are fond of? No way that has to be trash. Want to try something new? No there can’t be anything good about that. He was a very stuck person that refused to find the joy in almost anything. Unless it was too impressive to ignore —but even then he had to nitpick it apart. I would wonder why his compliments would feel so hollow- it was because he really had trouble seeing the good in anything. Like a day or two after we broke up I was already feeling lighter and more optimistic. When people were kind to me I embraced it easier and in turn every aspect of life got a little brighter. The contempt for others was palatable. Because he expected everyone to be ready to undercut him like he was ready to do to them.)

- Before you know it, they’ll have you romanticizing breadcrumbing behavior (I asked my ex to get on meds for his mental health and to find a therapist so many times over the course of 5 years. 4-5 months before I broke up with him he got on medication. Then after a peace period of a month or so, we were back in a cycle of petty arguments and he was saying the meds don’t work. He didn’t even try to go to therapy until I broke up with him. he got an appointment the next day because he “was trying to win me back” Essentially, he’d never work on himself or actually actively improve things. He’d always make one or two half steps to placate me then complain about how it was too hard and completely impossible to put the work in. Even with the therapy example, he wanted to display that he could make progress in order to win me back. Don’t worry, I had seen this tactic before and knew he would just fall back into toxicity. So, it didn’t work.)

- When you do leave they get cocky about how you’ll have nowhere to go (I leaned on my ex to support me when I became overwhelmed by figuring out my business on my own. I worked several temp jobs in addition to the business but it was stretching me thin. So I needed his help several times and only had so much saved up by the time I broke up with him. After begging me to take him back the entire night and pretending to be supportive, the next day he was scoffing and boasting about how “[he] didn’t even know what [I] was going to do.” He did this over everything from buying my own detergent-even though I always bought the detergent- to managing my bills on my own-even though I usually managed most of my bills on my own- until I finally was able to move out and leave him behind.)

- They never defend you and always make it seem like it’s your fault if you get attacked (My ex was always siding with abusive people and gaslighting me when I noticed that behavior. As many of you may know, my mom was a terror throughout my childhood. I confided in my ex about how much of an impact this had had on me. Before I went no contact with her we all got dinner when she came in town to see me. Despite all my warnings and preemptive begging to be supported through the difficulty of meeting with her my ex threw me under the bus immediately. He laughed at her jokes at my expense and didn’t stop her at all from singling me out. I shutdown in this moment and began to draw to cope- I’m neurodivergent so that’s one of the things I default to doing when I’m overwhelmed. They continued to make fun of me together and when I asked him why he didn’t have my back afterward, he blamed me for “not being friendly enough” and “not interacting with [my] mom enough”. This pattern of doubting and failing to help me would continue through our entire relationship.)

- They’ll have -self aware- moments that aren’t quite what they seem (I truly cannot count the number of times my ex would start an argument just to talk me in circles then try to get me to believe I was in the wrong too. It was truly maddening. He would always push to say he “understood” how we had gotten there. Then ramble on and on and on saying that I was attacking him and he was the victim of things. I asked him to do the dishes? I’m “criticizing [his] housework and putting too much pressure on [him]”. I ask him not to throw things when he’s upset? I’m “overly criticizing [him] and making [him] so anxious he can’t help but hit things”. And on and on and on it went. He would always tidy it up by saying he forgave me because we were “both wrong” and he just “would try to be better next time and [I] should too”.)

-They have underlying personality issues that need to be addressed (and when you bring a hint of these up, they lash out about how you’re attacking them and they throw personal attacks back at you because of their fragile ego. If you -somehow- get them to see a mental health professional you may find them lying about what feedback they got. After I broke up with him he said he’d go to anger management class and find a therapist “to win me back”- funny how it’s after you leave them and set the ultimate boundary they do the work to show you they can hypothetically change and it’s never one of the times you’ve begged before in the midst of madness. Before I moved out I overheard his therapy appointment and she asked about his bipolar diagnosis and he said he was just anxious despite the mood swings. When he came to me to tell me the good news of him finally going to therapy he left that out. When I asked if the therapist knew if he had another disorder he manipulated that. He said the therapist asked if it could be anything else but it was just a brief thought. He framed it that way instead of the consistent behavioral issue it was.)

- Usually they attract drama and chaos but blame you for it as their partner (He always kept his ex around in boundary crossing ways. In hindsight I wouldn’t be surprised if he had cheated in any way with any of them because of how murky he was about spending one on one time with them. They also will always encourage you to keep other toxic people in your life so they can keep flying under the radar/blaming the other toxic people when you feel drained/etc. When I decided to go no contact with my parents, he second guessed me. When I decided to go no contact with my friends that were harmful, he second guessed me. He went out of his way to call me paranoid and picky and every other name in the book he could. Even after I broke up with him he went out of his way to tell me I was paranoid and should quit tarot reading “because [he] knew it would turn [me] against [him] one day”. I told him his opinion meant less than nothing to me.)

- Whenever you set a boundary they try to undermine it and take it as an attack (When we met, all of my ex’s small circle of friends was made up of people he had dated or slept with. Once his friend, who had flirted with him multiple times, asked to stay in his apartment while she moved out of her place. He offered her his bed. She even had a boyfriend at the time but she went to my ex first. I told him this made me very uncomfortable. He screamed and yelled about how he’ll always choose his friends first and I have to understand that and that she didn’t want to sleep in his bed while he was in it. It was crazy but the whole time he called me dramatic and made me feel insane for being so uncomfortable with it.)

- They may often act out in public over the littlest things (my ex would get absolutely infuriated when there were lines in places. Insane right? Especially living in cities? with other people? And yet whenever we went out I’d have to prepare my mental for the possibility of him getting angry and breaking down because people were waiting ahead of him in line. In hindsight the entitlement he had was overwhelming in itself. The last time we went out to a movie -which was a whole scheduling fiasco in of itself with him during our entire relationship, he was obsessed with movies. I like movies but spending 6-9 hours in a theater? Every week? On top of hours of mandatory movie viewing at home? It was exhausting. He also made me pay for my own monthly movie pass even though it was his thing. Even in covid, although I’m immunocompromised I had to negotiate with him to wait to get vaccinated before he went back to the theater. And to wear a mask in the showings. He would huff and fuss about those small courtesies the entire time. Anyway the last movie we went out to see had a long line but we bought tickets ahead of time. He pitched a fit and kept storming off away from me and threatening to leave over the line. I kept following him foolishly, and coaxed him into staying. Of course there were enough seats and of course he enjoyed the movie. He apologized after for “getting overwhelmed by the line” but that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.)

- It’s all or nothing for them but breadcrumbs for you (I’ve always been clear that I have no plans of staying in the country I’m from. From the start I’ve understood I’m not meant to stay here. And yet I stayed in a city I hated so he could suddenly finish his associates degree. We moved back to my hometown but we lived in the most stressful neighborhood because he “wanted to be downtown with a pool.” He would always complain about every single idea I had to leave the country. I’m thinking about doing a language school or artist residency? He “did long distance with [his] ex who cheated and it would be too hard”. I want to study this language and go to this -easy-place for a visa? He “kept forgetting to study and had no idea how we would ever afford the move.” And on and on it went until I simply gave up on trying to get him to step up.)

- They twist everything to be about them even grief (my grandma was like a mother to me, so it hit me hard when she died. She even told me she was going and thanked me for my friendship at the end. It was still a very difficult period and I couldn’t accept it until it just happened. When I got the call and burst into tears my ex said “I’m so sorry… do you blame me because we stayed here for me to go to school and you couldn’t be home with her?” It hadn’t even been 20 minutes since I learned she was gone. The extent of his selfishness would shock me until I cut him off.)

- They make you bury things they don’t like about your self expression/goals (I’ll use a simple example. I love fairy lights. When we met I had fairy lights and my ex had no complaints. But when we moved in together they ‘would always bother him and give him headaches’. So I took out the lights. Then he got me a glowing lamp I wanted for my birthday but never allowed me to turn it on when we were in the room. I brought the lights I love to my work and my ex would complain about them there too. He’d say he didn’t know why he “just didn’t like spending time at the studio” and then use the lights as an excuse, and then hed complain all day about how exhausting it was to be there. He’d only offer to come to the studio more if I turned them off just for him. All this time later and all of a sudden I don’t have any lights I like up. This didn’t happen for everything, but there were a lot of little things he was so controlling about just to be authoritative about something I liked.)

- They hate it when you have positive things happen to you (and instead of seeing your success as a good thing they see it as you one upping them, so they often express jealousy and then disguise it as a joke. He would “joke” about how I was going to fail so often I lost count. When I had a great day there would always be a hint of disappointment in his voice. He would always undermine it in anyway he could. “Oh you made X amount that’s nice, but that’s not enough to cover the rent”. I got a lot of compliments on my outfits, so he’d say “no one ever compliments me”. Always something to bring me down and try to get me to focus on a worry.)

- They downplay your trauma (I’m a burn survivor. My dad burned me through hot water and neglect as a baby on around 20% of my body. For that and many other reasons I became sort of a local legend for my time in our local child protective services. In a city of well over a million people. Doctors thought I wouldn’t be able to walk again and it was a miracle when I did. My grandmother had to wrap my scars everyday, twice a day for 3-4 years afterwards. She would tell me the pain would make me cry random throughout the night until I went to kindergarten. All that to say, my scars had a BIG impact on my health and my life. When I told my ex about my insecurity he said “sorry that happened, but it’s not that big of a deal.” Crazily at 21 I took that as flattery. It was not, it was severely downplaying the trauma I went through because my ex didn’t care for that part of my life. I even remember thinking I should tag a post as a burn survivor and he said “isn’t that like advertising your burns, why warn people about it?”. I got better and embraced my scars all through my own healing but damn it was all severely fucked up.)

- They usually have a Fatal Flaw they try to make you contend with (My ex had explosive anger where he would hit something (a wall, the couch, his desk, etc) or throw things at any slight provocations, and he would disguise it as a reaction of low self esteem instead. I didn’t realize how bad the conditioning had got until I broke up with him and I wasn’t getting jumpy from him coming home anymore or my dog wasn’t hiding from him anymore. I was walking on eggshells all the time and I only knew it subconsciously. He would also curse at me and call me the meanest names from the smallest arguments, he would get belittling. It’s their signature style to make you feel small and to desensitize you to truly nightmarish behavior.)

- That’s the other thing- most people and sometimes animals can tell they’re off (I would always wonder why my ex never seemed to make a good impression on others. They could tell he was off from the start.)

- They start trying to love bomb you after you give up or when they sense you are finally giving up (I always asked my ex to pay more attention to my business/endeavors/art/etc when we were together, to respond to texts I sent him at work-within reason-, to give me some support or feedback. His replies were always blasé. “That’s nice.” Or “I will.” As soon as I broke up with him. He was complaining that he always missed texting me at work. Then he started getting more involved on my social media pages. Then for the first time in months he watched my story on Instagram completely unwelcomed and unprompted. It was how fake the performance of interest was that really struck me after everything.)

- They always ask for one more chance when you’ve given them at least a hundred chances (Evem when I broke up with him he kept saying “you cut off other people (for being toxic) but I never thought it would be me!” I feel like I’ve already put plenty of examples of this, so I’ll just say this points to the fact that at their base motivation they don’t really respect you or care about you. If someone actually cares about you, they’re going to go out of their way to make you comfortable, to care about your opinions and feedback, from the very start)

- Even when it’s over, they still always try to blame you for their bad behavior. (My ex painted himself as an introvert when he was in a relationship. I had always asked him to make -newer, healthier- friends and to make a social effort. Since the beginning. After we broke up he made an effort to go out to social events. After he went out one day he came back and said “I was such a girlfriend guy, I never went out and socialized!” In turn I said you’re not a girlfriend guy you never cared about what I had to say, if you were a girlfriend guy I wouldn’t have had to break up with you for literally never taking me into account. So that ended that.)

- When it’s over the relief hits you in waves (I didn’t even realize how much I was doing to cope with the hostility and boredom of the relationship until it was over. I stopped overeating, I actually lost my appetite for days. I went from taking edibles every week to not even craving the ones I had. I wasn’t the most indulgent but I was shocked by how immediately I was fine with going cold turkey. My time with myself became even more peaceful. Even before I moved out, I was more creative and productive. I felt the beauty and the optimism of all the little moments deep in my spirit and my glow was brighter than ever before. My ex kept turning to me in despair and asking “how can you be so okay with this??” I answered him indifferently because he wasn’t worth entertaining. But obviously my spirit had been restored, I wasn’t wasting love on anyone that didn’t deserve it anymore. My energy was finally all mine. And I had faith in God that everything would be alright. And it was.)

You slowly but surely realize that you were formed to be a victim of a narcissistic/antagonistic person due to being raised by narcissistic parents and in an environment full of enabling emotionally and verbally abusive behavior. When we met I was so vulnerable. I had moved to a new city on my own, I was in a financially precarious place. The city was The Worst for Black people (tm). I was so desperate for an ally, I caught an energy vampire instead. I’ve healed and learned a lot from this. To be much more deliberate about who I let into my life. To be unafraid of purging and moving on when someone shows you they’re incapable of growth. To not accept crumbs of affection and appreciation. To pour my love into myself first before I let anyone else do the same. So I write all this to say, it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that some people are so corrupted to the core that they’d rather destroy you than heal themselves. So… forgive yourself for this experience. Forgive yourself for being a person that just loves and cares about others. That believes in cultivating a world full of warmth and compassion. Don’t let one (or a dozen- ugh the people I’ve had to move on from oml) toxic ass person ruin you and your compassion. I had to forgive myself for believing in a lot of disappointing, inept, bad people. But I won’t stop being kind and compassionate because of those losers. I’ll continue to shine my light on those who need it whenever I’m supposed to. I mean I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to rely on anyone again without fear of their self interest but one step at a time, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Anyway, wish me luck on this fresh start. Buy a reading if you want to support me. But yeah, thanks for reading y’all.

[lorrainedeverra]

The Mind's Invisible Chains

Have you ever felt afraid of something without knowing exactly what it is? What if the fear is there, lingering, but its source remains a mystery?

Now, there's a difference between what we call 'fear' and 'anxiety.' One might also consider adding the term 'depression' into the mix. So, what's the difference? Let's explore.

First and foremost, I am no expert on these matters. What I share is simply based on what I've learned over time. I welcome corrections if you find any inaccuracies in my words.

According to research by the National Alliance on Mental Illness (2021)¹, signs of fear can manifest physically as:

- Rapid heartbeat

- Shortness of breath

- Sweating

- Trembling

- Chills

- Dry mouth

- Nausea

Additionally, the physical and psychological signs and symptoms of anxiety include:

- Feeling nervous, restless, or tense

- A sense of impending doom

- Increased heart rate

- Shortness of breath

- Sweating

- Dizziness

- Ear ringing

- Trouble concentrating

- Trouble sleeping

- Gastrointestinal (GI) distress

- Difficulty controlling worry or ruminating

- Urge to avoid anxiety-triggering situations

- Feeling insecure

As you can see, fear and anxiety share many similarities, which can make it difficult to distinguish between them.

As my psychology professor once explained, fear is being afraid of something you are certain about, while anxiety is the fear of something unknown—an unease without a clear source.

Let's have examples.

・❥・Situation 1. You are terrified because you fear the injection.

・❥・Situation 2. You planned to go to the beach today, but you worry that it might rain despite the sun shining brightly, which would mean your trip could be canceled.

In the first situation, fear is present. You're afraid of the injection, and you can clearly identify what causes your worry.

According to NAMI, our fear responses are automatic reactions.

In the second situation, anxiety is present. You’re worried about a potential event, even though it may not actually happen. For instance, on the first day of school, you might feel anxious about introducing yourself to the class, with numerous 'what if' questions arising in your mind.

According to NAMI, anxiety can be confusing for our bodies, as it may stem from past or present experiences and influence our actions. Kirk (2013)² also notes that anxiety involves worrying about potential threats that have not yet occurred, or might never occur.

Depression is indeed more complex and serious than simply feeling down. It’s important not to use the term lightly. To understand why, let’s delve into the meaning of the word.

Depression is a mental health condition characterized by persistent feelings of hopelessness, sadness, and disinterest in various aspects of life. It can impact sleep, eating habits, and daily activities. According to the CDC (2023)³, you might consider yourself depressed if these feelings persist for two weeks or more.

If you're experiencing fear, that's perfectly normal. As mentioned earlier, fear is our body's natural response to a stimulus.

However, if you’re feeling anxiety or depression, it’s important to reach out to individuals you trust, such as family, friends, or others. Seeking professional advice from a counselor or therapist, psychiatrist, and psychologist can also be beneficial. They can help you manage and cope with these feelings.

Find ways to help your mind alleviate nervousness and sadness. Spend time with loved ones, engage in your hobbies, exercise regularly, maintain a consistent sleep schedule, and even try to smile, even if it feels forced.

Trick your brain into feeling better because, according to research, a smile can indeed boost your mood. Dr. Isha Gupta, a neurologist from IGEA Brain and Spine, explained in an article by DiGiulio (2017)⁴ that smiling triggers a chemical reaction in the brain, releasing hormones such as dopamine and serotonin.

"Dopamine increases our feelings of happiness, while serotonin release is linked to reduced stress. Low serotonin levels are associated with depression and aggression," Dr. Gupta stated. "Similarly, low dopamine levels are also connected to depression.”

Don’t give up! You’re not alone on this journey. As I often remind myself, "No matter how many times you fall, just keep standing up. Each fall teaches you lessons, making you stronger and better for the future." Just take a deep breath and hold on.

I hope you found this blog helpful. Thank you for taking the time to read it.

References:

𓇢𓆸 ¹ Hendel, H. J. (2021). Anxiety and Fear: What's the Difference? National Alliance on Mental Illness. https://www.nami.org/anxiety-disorders/anxiety-and-fear-whats-the-difference/

𓇢𓆸 ² Kirk, N. V. (2023). Understanding fear, anxiety, and phobias. McLean Hospital. https://www.mcleanhospital.org/essential/fear-phobias#:~:text=Fear%20is%20the%20response%20to,the%20lookout%20and%20remain%20aware

𓇢𓆸 ³ Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2023). Sadness and depression. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. https://www.cdc.gov/howrightnow/emotion/sadness/index.html#:~:text=When%20a%20sad%20mood%20lasts,often%20or%20all%20the%20time

𓇢𓆸 ⁴ DiGiulio, S. (2017). Smiling can trick your brain into happiness and boost your health. 2017. BETTER by TODAY. https://www.nbcnews.com /better/health/smiling-can-trick-your-brain -happiness-boost-your-health-ncna822591

1 comment

zanenunez 2nd Sep

Wow

[radsplain]

All you radfems constantly shitting on trans people like you have nothing better to do in your life. Like. Have you ever even taken a minute to try to realize what it feels like to feel like your own body is wrong and awful and disgusting and you can’t stand another minute trapped in it? To starve yourself until you’re underweight just because that way you look less curvy and your breasts are smaller and you’re less feminine? To feel like you want to take a knife and cut off the parts of your body that you can’t stand to look at? Using drugs to cope with dysphoria and make your brain finally shut up? Feeling so completely isolated because no one in your life understand what it’s like to feel this way? Not being sure about any of the decisions because despite any surgery and hormone therapy in the world, you will still never be a *real* person of the other sex? As if the waiting lists aren’t months to years long anyway. You all talk like you can bring a child to a clinic and they’ll get hormones the next day. When in reality even for adults the process consists of visiting multiple mental health professionals, multiple doctors, it can all take years before you even get to start taking them? And also how it feels like having to hide your feelings from everybody because even your own family would be disgusted by you? You all act like trans people are just straight white males whose entire transition process consists of makeup and dresses and wigs and out of a desire to harass women. And yeah, those people exist. But not everyone is like that. The majority, who actually has a life outside of Twitter, isn’t like that. Not everyone is quite literally willingly letting their bodies be mutilated just to achieve what, flashing your genitals to a kid in a public bathroom? Real life is not like that at all. You’re so uneducated and naive on this topic yet talk like you’ know everything. Trans women are evil predators and trans men are poor victims of the manipulation and propaganda. Literally just read one actual trans person’s description of their life. And honestly fuck those tiktok kids inventing new genders because they want attention because you know that’s not what I’m talking about so don’t even try to use it as a talking point. There’s a fucking difference between dying your hair blue and wearing horrible “alt” clothes and going by she/they just because all your friends are doing so, and someone who has spent their entire life wishing they were born as a different sex and already showing it as a child but no one bothered to ever pay attention because kids are just quirky and weird like that. And never paying any attention to it in the rest of childhood and adolescence either, because why deal with a problem when you can easily ignore it? And yet I’ll most likely still never get to actually go through the medical or social process of transition due to societal pressure and the shitty place I live in. And I’m just one of the people with this experience that you keep mocking either due to your willful ignorance or complete lack of empathy, and I honestly don’t know which one is worse.

I mean this in the most genuine possible way, but please seek out therapy. It probably felt good to get all that out, but spilling out all of your anxieties onto random people is not going to help you with everything you listed here. This entire message literally proves my point about the gender cult and why people, especially TIFs, decide to transition. You're not "trans" (no one is, but that's a whole other post). Y'all literally just need therapy. REAL therapy, not that "gender-affirming" bs. So much of this message, especially the parts about feeling wrong and disgusting in your body and wanting to starve yourself until you're underweight to look "less feminine" is such a red flag. I'm not a doctor or psychologist, but babe you're not struggling with "gender dysphoria." You have massive body image and mental health issues that haven't been addressed and are being wrapped up in this ideology of being "trans."

I'm not going to respond to every single point you made here, but this massive tangent feels like it was more for you to let out your frustrations than for me. And that's fine, but just know nothing you said here has swayed my opinion. If anything, it's strengthened it. I do have empathy for what you're going through and I truly do wish you healing and happiness, but venting to random strangers on the internet like this really isn't going to help you.

[unkempt-field]

Mental Vomit (start)

I am fairly new to Tumblr, but I am starting up this blog as another way to vent out my thoughts, my stress, and other random stuff. For the potentially concerned Tumblr residents who might come across this, this is not really supposed to be a call for help. Treat this as a poorly written "creative writing project". I will delve into my own personal thoughts and feelings, and maybe even my personal history of less than fortunate experiences.

(TW: Suicidal thoughts)

I have tried to see a mental health professional, but as I am from the states, I could not afford to do so regularly. Also, I may use terms that have a specific meaning in that field, but completely incorrectly, for which I apologize.

I used to have friends who I'd talk to regularly, but now I just lurk in those circles. I don't feel too comfortable talking to them about these deep topics. I do also write similar things in a personal journal, but I considered writing something on a public blog to occasionally see what other people think as well.

I guess I'll write some stuff about my current mental state. Some people always have an inner voice, but I only "use" mine whenever I'm introspecting or reflecting on something. And due to the times I grew up in, that voice is similar to that of a youtuber talking to a faceless audience. Not necessarily expecting a response, just yapping about some topic. For many years now, I would spend late nights, or many times where I am alone or particularly mentally shaken to reflect on myself and my ideas. This started after a certain incident happened in my middle school years, which I may write on in the future.

This has helped me keep track of my mental state, and see how somethings change, and others stay the same. For example, since my high school years, I'd have something almost like a "verbal tic", where when I am alone, I mutter or whisper to myself negative thoughts. There were times where these were suicidal in nature, but more recently, they have been more about self-hatred. If you have seen videos of people doing "positive affirmations" while looking at themselves in the mirror, it is almost the opposite of that, where I tell myself how much I loathe my very existence.

I did have stretches where I wouldn't go a day without considering suicide, because I've always struggled with self-esteem, and I considered whether it would be more "efficient" or better for the world if I was gone. Due to the nature of my upbringing, I always felt a disconnect with my peers in school, as I was from an entirely different culture, and then a niche group within said culture. Throughout elementary school, I never considered myself to have "friends", since I would only interact with them in class, and never play with them outside of it.

I was very socially inexperienced, and even now, I believe I am less socially competent than I should be.

This, combined with a lot of other factors, have led me to have a certain level of hatred, or disdain for myself. It also wasn't helped that through grades and other efforts, I proved that if I applied myself, I was capable of matching up or exceeding some of my peers on some areas. Of being "normal", or "good". But I continually failed those self-evaluations, as in my mind, I lacked the ability to do so consistently.

During high school, I often considered committing suicide by graduation. I thought that if I saw no clear path for a "good" future, or some clear goal or motivation for what to do with myself, that I would be better off dead. Even after that, despite being fairly young, I thought to myself that I already had enough good life experiences, and that at 18 years old, I had already lived a "good" life, and to basically quite while I was ahead. Even now, I'm not particularly looking forward to any life event.

Whenever I felt like I didn't really have a hope for the future in recent years, the suicidal thoughts would reemerge with varying levels of intensity and frequency. If I made some mistake, even a minor one, I would constantly remember it in conjunction of other mistakes and consider ending my life to prevent me from making any more.

I understood that committing suicide would be selfish, considering my family and those around me. I knew it would be cowardly, since there were probably people around me who cared. But I never considered myself selfless or brave either way, which really made me get stuck in those thoughts.

Well, to end this first post off on a somewhat positive note, after reflecting and seeing that some of my teenage worries/anxieties went away with time, I hope that my young adult worries/anxieties also improve. And in terms of feeling like I have no good track record and a poor self-image, with recent opportunities in my life, I hope to change/improve on that.

I want to become more emotionally mature and improve/grow as a person. I have kept track of many of my shortcomings, and I will probably find more as time goes on, but I hope to be better in the future.

[loyalscarlet]

Trans Scholarship Link+App!

(It’s the 11th hour, I know, but there’s a link to the scholarship at the bottom of my little spiel if anyone wants to apply before the year ends.)

Okay, so we know that transphobia is a thing. We all know that trans youth and young adults are at risk of having mental health problem, lacking a support network, being poor, and having insecure housing. Not saying these issues aren’t important, but I’d like to highlight some of the challenges I experienced, which have been a bit more nuanced than this.

I feel like when I first went to college, at lot of people my age complained about how on-campus housing at various schools was not trans-friendly. Like, trans students were getting paired with cis students who did not have the same gender. Bigger, more progressive schools were beginning to set aside certain dorms for queer students to opt into sharing with each other; smaller, more conservative schools (like mine) handled these issues on a case-by-case basis, usually by sticking the trans student in a single occupancy room.

I never encountered this problem, though, because I couldn’t afford to live on-campus. I commuted from my parents’ place. I couldn’t get a loan because no one in my family was willing to cosign for me. Often this happens when they reject their trans kid, but I wasn’t out to my family at the time. We were just a lower-middle class family and no one wanted to risk their credit on me.

My family has been plagued by drama and divorce since before I was born, but none of my relatives were out as LGBTQ; queerness had nothing to do with their dysfunction. Nevertheless, that wasn’t the kind of environment I felt safe coming out in. I entered college pretending to be cis. It was years until I came out to my closest friends, and years still after that until I started coming out to trustworthy relatives and at work. By then, summer 2021, I was finished with school and one year into HRT. Some people have to choose between their transition and their education, because they don’t have the resources to do both. I didn’t either, but it wasn’t much of a choice for me—I did education, and only after did transition present itself as an option. Now, in a way, I’m trying to kill two birds with one stone: go back to school to become a hair removal specialist (AKA an electrologist), so that I can continue my treatments while also training to provide them to other trans folks.

Now here’s the kicker, the thing I almost never hear other people bring up: having the correct name and gender on all the important paperwork. Yes, people talk about how they get deadnamed and misgendered at school—but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about what you put on your application; I’m talking about what gets put on your diploma, your professional license, or whatever certificate you get at the end of your program.

Changing your legal name (and gender) is such a taxing, time-consuming, and potentially expensive process. (were it not for the fee waiver I obtained, it would have cost me several hundred dollars.) It’s hard to imagine any college student being able to pull it off while also focusing on their studies and maybe even working on the side. If you make the change after you finish school, then you may need to go through an additional ordeal getting your school to issue you a new certificate. And if you try to do it before entering college—well, you may need to delay school for a semester or two, because you’ll probably run into the same dilemma I did.

Thinking nothing of it, I initiated the name/gender change process at the same time that I was applying for school. When I visited the school, they told me that my name and gender would need to be consistent across all of my application materials in order to process my application. Here, for the first time, in a very real way, I needed to choose between my transition and my education.

I chose transition.

The only alternative would have been to change my name after school—a highly unappealing option, as this would entail the additional paperwork of changing my name on my program certificate, as well as delay my licensure by about a year. The name change process I knew would take months, and it would need to be completed before I could even register for my state’s licensing exam. That semiannual exam is reportedly extremely difficult, and it would be a fool’s errand to try to pass it without my training still fresh in my memory. Either way, my career switch would be pushed back a year, so postponing school and getting the name/gender change out of the way first was the most sensible choice. Besides, it was more important for me to have my name and gender officially recognized—by the school, by the government, by my future classmates—and I didn’t want to later have to start the process from scratch.

Anyway, that was a year ago, and I’m finally starting school in a month. Just warning y’all, because I think the name/gender change is an underappreciated setback that trans folks may need to deal with.

P.S. I’m still short on funds. I’m applying with this post for the #TransgenderFirst scholarship: https://www.onlinedegree.com/transgender-first-scholarship/

[duckprintspress]

Giving Quality, Motivating Feedback

A guest post by @shealynn88!

The new writer in your writing group just sent out their latest story and it’s...not exciting. You know it needs work, but you’re not sure why, or where they should focus.

This is the blog post for you!

Before we get started, it’s important to note that this post isn’t aimed at people doing paid editing work. In the professional world, there are developmental editors, line editors, and copy editors, who all have a different focus. That is not what we’re covering here. Today, we want to help you informally give quality, detailed, encouraging feedback to your fellow writers.

The Unwritten Rules

Everyone seems to have a different understanding of what it means to beta, edit, or give feedback on a piece, so it’s best to be on the same page with your writer before you get started.

Think about what type of work you’re willing and able to do, how much time you have, and how much emotional labor you’re willing to take on. Then talk to your writer about their expectations.

Responsibilities as an editor/beta may include:

Know what the author’s expectation is and don’t overstep. Different people in different stages of writing are looking for, and will need, different types of support. It’s important to know what pieces of the story they want feedback on. If they tell you they don’t want feedback on dialogue, don’t give them feedback on dialogue. Since many terms are ambiguous or misunderstood, it may help you to use the list of story components in the next section to come to an agreement with your writer on what you’ll review.

Don’t offer expertise you don’t have. If your friend needs advice on their horse book and you know nothing about horses, be clear that your read through will not include any horse fact checking. Don’t offer grammar advice if you’re not good at grammar. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give feedback on things you do notice, but don’t misrepresent yourself, and understand your own limits.

Give positive and constructive feedback. It is important for a writer to know when something is working well. Don’t skimp on specific positive feedback — this is how you keep writers motivated. On the other hand, giving constructive feedback indicates where there are issues. Be specific on what you’re seeing and why it’s an issue. It can be hard for someone to improve if they don’t understand what’s wrong.

Be clear about your timing and availability, and provide updates if either changes. Typically, you’ll be doing this for free, as you’re able to fit it in your schedule. But it can be nerve wracking to hand your writing over for feedback and then hear nothing. For everyone’s sanity, keep the writer up to date on your expected timeline and let them know if you’re delayed for some reason. If you cannot complete the project for them, let them know. This could be for any reason — needing to withdraw, whatever the cause, is valid! It could be because working with the writer is tough, you don’t enjoy the story, life got tough, you got tired, etc. All of that is fine; just let them know that you won’t be able to continue working on the project.

Be honest if there are story aspects you can’t be objective about. Nearly all of your feedback is going to be personal opinion. There are some story elements that will evoke strong personal feelings. They can be tropes, styles, specific characterizations, or squicks. In these cases, ask the writer to get another opinion on that particular aspect, or, if you really want to continue, find similar published content to review and see if you can get a better sense of how other writers have handled it.

Don’t get personal. Your feedback should talk about the characters, the narrator, the plotline, the sentence structure, or other aspects of the story. Avoid making ‘you’ statements or judgements, suggested or explicit, in your feedback. Unless you’re looking at grammar or spelling, most of the feedback you’ll have will be your opinion. Don’t present it as fact.

Your expectations of the writer/friend/group member you are working with may include:

Being gracious in accepting feedback. A writer may provide explanations for an issue you noticed or seek to discuss your suggestions. However, if they constantly argue with you, that may be an indicator to step back.

Being responsible for emotional reactions to getting feedback. While getting feedback can be hard on the ego and self esteem, that is something the writer needs to work on themselves. While you can provide reassurance and do emotional labor if you’re comfortable, it is also very reasonable to step back if the writer isn’t ready to do that work.

Making the final choice regarding changes to the work. The writer should have a degree of confidence in accepting or rejecting your feedback based on their own sense of the story. While they may consult you on this, the onus is on them to make changes that preserve the core of the story they want to tell.

Some people aren’t ready for feedback, even though they’re seeking it. You’re not signing up to be a psychologist, a best friend, or an emotional support editor. You can let people know in advance that these are your expectations, or you can just keep them in mind for your own mental health. As stated above, you can always step back from a project, and if writers aren’t able to follow these few guidelines, it might be a good time to do that. (It’s also worth making sure that, as a writer, you’re able to give these things to your beta/editor.)

Specificity is Key

One of the hardest things in editing is pinning down the ‘whys’ of unexciting work, so let’s split the writing into several components and talk about evaluations you can make for each one.

You can also give this list to your writer ahead of time as a checklist, to see which things they want your feedback on.

Generally, your goal is going to be to help people improve incrementally. Each story they write should be better than the previous one, so you don’t need to go through every component for every story you edit. Generally, I wouldn’t suggest more than 3 editing rounds on any single story that isn’t intended for publication. Think of the ‘many pots’ theory — people who are honing their craft will improve more quickly by writing a lot of stories instead of incessantly polishing one.

With this in mind, try addressing issues in the order below, from general to precise. It doesn’t make sense to critique grammar and sentence structure if the plot isn’t solid, and it can be very hard on a writer to get feedback on all these components at once. If a piece is an early or rough draft, try evaluating no more than four components at a time, and give specific feedback on what does and doesn’t work, and why.

High Level Components

Character arc/motivation:

Does each character have a unique voice, or do they all sound the same?

In dialogue, are character voices preserved? Do they make vocabulary and sentence-structure choices that fit with how they’re being portrayed?

Does each character have specific motivations and focuses that are theirs alone?

Does each character move through the plot naturally, or do they seem to be shoehorned/railroaded into situations or decisions for the sake of the plot? Be specific about which character actions work and which don’t. Tell the writer what you see as their motivation/arc and why—and point out specific lines that indicate that motivation to you.

Does each character's motivation seem to come naturally from your knowledge of them?

Are you invested (either positively or negatively) in the characters? If not, why not? Is it that they have nothing in common with you? Do you not understand where they’re coming from? Are they too perfect or too unsympathetic?

Theme:

It’s a good idea to summarize the story and its moral from your point of view and provide that insight to the writer. This can help them understand if the points they were trying to make come through. The theme should tie in closely with the character arcs. If not, provide detailed feedback on where it does and doesn’t tie in.

Plot Structure:

For most issues with plot structure, you can narrow them down to pacing, characterization, logical progression, or unsatisfying resolution. Be specific about the issues you see and, when things are working well, point that out, too.

Is there conflict that interests you? Does it feel real?

Is there a climax? Do you feel drawn into it?

Do the plot points feel like logical steps within the story?

Is the resolution tied to the characters and their growth? Typically this will feel more real and relevant and satisfying than something you could never have seen coming.

Is the end satisfying? If not, is it because you felt the end sooner and the story kept going? Is it because too many threads were left unresolved? Is it just a matter of that last sentence or two being lackluster?

Point Of View:

Is the point of view clear and consistent?

Is the writing style and structure consistent with that point of view? For example, if a writer is working in first person or close third person, the style of the writing should reflect the way the character thinks. This extends to grammar, sentence structure, general vocabulary and profanity outside of the dialogue.

If there is head hopping (where the point of view changes from chapter to chapter or section to section), is it clear in the first few sentences whose point of view you’re now in? Chapter headers can be helpful, but it should be clear using structural, emotional, and stylistic changes that you’re with a new character now.

Are all five senses engaged? Does the character in question interact with their environment in realistic, consistent ways that reflect how people actually interact with the world?

Sometimes the point of view can feel odd if it’s too consistent. Humans don’t typically think logically and linearly all the time, so being in someone’s head may sometimes be contradictory or illogical. If it’s too straightforward, it might not ‘feel’ real.

Be specific about the areas that don’t work and break them down based on the questions above.

Pacing:

Does the story jump around, leaving you confused about what took place when?

Do some scenes move quickly where others drag, and does that make sense within the story?

If pacing isn’t working, often it’s about the level of detail or the sentence structure. Provide detailed feedback about what you care about in a given scene to help a writer focus in.

Setting:

Is the setting clear and specific? Writing with specific place details is typically more rooted, interesting, and unique. If you find the setting vague and/or uninteresting and/or irrelevant, you might suggest replacing vague references — ‘favorite band’, ‘coffee shop on the corner’, ‘the office building’ — with specific names to ground the setting and make it feel more real.

It might also be a lack of specific detail in a scene that provides context beyond the characters themselves. Provide specific suggestions of what you feel like you’re missing. Is it in a specific scene, or throughout the story? Are there scenes that work well within the story, where others feel less grounded? Why?

Low Level Components

Flow/Sentence Structure:

Sentence length and paragraph length should vary. The flow should feel natural.

When finding yourself ‘sticking’ on certain sentences, provide specific feedback on why they aren’t working. Examples are rhythm, vocabulary, subject matter (maybe something is off topic), ‘action’ vs ‘explanation’, passive vs. active voice.

Style/Vocabulary:

Writing style should be consistent with the story — flowery prose works well for mythic or historical pieces and stories that use that type of language are typically slower moving. Quick action and short sentences are a better fit for murder mysteries, suspense, or modern, lighter fiction.

Style should be consistent within the story — it may vary slightly to show how quickly action is happening, but you shouldn’t feel like you’re reading two different stories.

SPAG (Spelling and Grammar):

Consider spelling and grammar in the context of the point of view, style and location of the story (eg, England vs. America vs. Australia).

If a point of view typically uses incorrect grammar, a SPAG check will include making sure that it doesn’t suddenly fall into perfect grammar for a while. In this case, consistency is going to be important to the story feeling authentic.

Word Count Requirements:

If the story has been written for a project, bang, anthology, zine, or other format that involves a required word count minimum or maximum, and the story is significantly over or under the aimed-for word count (30% or more/less), it may not make sense to go through larger edits until the sizing is closer to requirements. But, as a general rule, I’d say word count is one of the last things to worry about.

*

The best thing we can do for another writer is to keep them writing. Every single person will improve if they keep going. Encouragement is the most important feedback of all.

I hope this has helped you think about how you provide feedback. Let us know if you have other tips or tricks! This works best as a collaborative process where we all can support one another!

[missmentelle]

How do I know if I'm burnt out and what are signs of being burnt out? In relation to both university and work?

Unfortunately, burnout is a very common problem among both university students and people in high-stress jobs. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term, “burnout” is effectively where people reach a breaking point after being in a high-stress occupation (like a demanding academic program or a high-pressure career) for too long. Being “burnt out” is not an official diagnosis, and you won’t find it in the ICD-11 or the DSM-V. But it’s something that an increasing number of people are experiencing every year.

Not everyone is at equal risk of experiencing burnout - many students and workers never really deal with this. Factors that put you at high risk of burnout include:

Having poor work-life balance. If you spend huge portions of your time working - working through weekends, doing tons of overtime, working late, not taking vacation, working through lunch - you are at high risk of burnout. Humans need rest, relaxation, hobbies and time with friends, and when you sacrifice those things for work, it will eventually take a toll.

Having very little control over your day-to-day tasks. No one has perfect control over their daily work tasks - not even the self-employed - but having some element of control is important. If you have a say in things like when to schedule meetings, when to book client appointments and which task you are going to work on when, you have a lower risk of burnout than someone whose tasks tend to just be dictated to them. 

Having perfectionist traits or holding yourself to very high standards. People who experience burnout tend to be overachievers. They constantly try to go above and beyond because they put immense pressure on themselves to do their best work at all times. If you’re the kind of person who beats yourself up over getting an A- instead of an A and makes a point to be the last one out of the office every day, you are at risk of burnout. 

Having a dysfunctional work or school environment. Is your workplace plagued with bullies and office gossip? Do your lab members take pleasure in ripping each other’s research and writing to shreds, without really being constructive about it? Does your boss take their bad moods out on the rest of the office, even when you haven’t done anything wrong? A dysfunctional workplace creates burned-out employees.

Having unclear instructions or directions. It is extremely difficult to be in a work environment where you are expected to do be productive, but you aren’t given clear expectations, a clear list of tasks or instructions for how those tasks should actually be performed. It leaves you constantly feeling like your work isn’t good enough and isn’t done properly, without actually giving you a route to improve; you often end up working twice as hard to get half as much done, which is a recipe for burnout. 

Working in a helping profession. Nurses, social workers, therapists, paramedics, psychologists, caregivers and caseworkers have some of the highest burnout rates of any profession. These jobs often combine long hours and low pay with incredibly stressful work environments, and burnout is a huge problem. 

Burnout is more than just feeling tired or bored of what you do. It’s a state of complete and total exhaustion. Putting more energy into your job isn’t possible when you reach that point - you have nothing left to give. “Burnout” isn’t an official diagnosis, but it is a fitting description - trying to push through burnout is like trying to re-light a candle that has already burned all the way down to the bottom. It’s just not going to happen. 

Some signs that you’ve reached the point of burnout include:

Your performance is suffering. You can’t keep going full steam ahead when you’re running on fumes. When you’re burnt out, your work performance will one of the first things that starts to slip - you may find that you are missing deadlines, forgetting things, half-assing tasks and making careless mistakes.  

You constantly feel drained. Burnout is a perpetual state of exhaustion. You’ll start to feel like you just don’t have the energy to do everything that you’re supposed to do. You’ll find that you feel tired all the time, regardless of your sleeping habits, and that just forcing yourself to do the bare minimum leaves you feeling totally depleted and unable to do much else. 

You feel disconnected and cynical toward your work. Even if you once enjoyed your work or felt passionate about it, when you’re burnt out, you become disillusioned with what you do. You may find that you’re cynical about your work, or just so apathetic that you can’t bring yourself to care about it anymore, even when you accomplish things that once mattered to you. 

You can’t concentrate. Burnout can make it difficult - if not impossible - for even the most dedicated person to focus on their tasks. You might find that you spend a lot of time just sitting in front of your computer, unable to even start tasks because you can’t focus well enough to begin something. 

You have become irritable and short-tempered. People who are burnt out have a tendency to become impatient with the people around them. When you’re running on empty, you have no energy left for social interactions. You might find that you’re snapping at coworkers or getting visibly frustrated with clients if you work in a helping profession. 

You feel anxious. Burnout is often accompanied by feelings of indistinct dread that you just can’t seem to shake. The fear and anxiety is often tied to work, and can be completely overwhelming. 

You can’t sleep. Ironically, people with burnout often have a hard time sleeping. Their minds race all night, and they find that they cannot settle down or get comfortable enough to drift off. If you can sleep, you may find that you are only able to sleep in short bursts and cannot sleep through a full night. 

Your eating habits have changed. Some people experiencing burnout find that they lose their appetites. Others find that they begin to comfort themselves with food. Significant changes in appetite and food intake can signal a serious problem. 

You feel physically ill. Being under high amounts of stress for long periods of time can destroy your health - you might find that you have a lot of symptoms with no direct physical cause, like headaches, stomach pain, nausea and body aches. You might also find that you get sick more often and get more infections as the stress wears down your immune system. 

You feel like you have to drag yourself through the day. Even if you once enjoyed your job or your school, you might start to feel like even showing up is a huge chore, and dread having to go in. You might find that it takes all of your energy to even make it through the front door each day. 

The good news is that burnout is not a permanent state; there are things you can do to recover. However, recovering from burnout is not necessarily easy - this is not something you can quick-fix with a self-help book, and you may need to make significant lifestyle changes. Some things you can do to fix or prevent burnout include:

Set firm boundaries. If possible, stop taking work home. Stop signing up for extra shifts and overtime every time it’s available. Don’t volunteer to organize every single office party and baby shower. Stop answering work emails after 5pm. Don’t check your email on the weekends. Don’t respond to emails on vacation. Set firm boundaries between “work time” and “me time” - especially if you work from home, where it’s easier for work and life to bleed together. 

Use every minute of your paid time off. A lot of people just don’t use up all their PTO every year because they’re worried they’re letting the company down by taking vacation. Stop that. If you have vacation days, use them. Use your sick time too - if you don’t get sick that often, use them as mental health days. If you’re a student, ask professors for extensions when you’re sick - more and more professors are getting on board with cutting students some slack for life events. 

Unplug from productivity culture. Our culture has a pathological obsession with productivity, and it’s killing us. We consume books and blogs and podcasts about how to squeeze as much productivity out of ourselves as possible. It has to stop. Unsubscribe from this kind of content. You don’t need to put more pressure on yourself to optimize and monetize every second of your day - it’s not healthy. 

Seek support. Talk to a therapist, a doctor or a friend. Get professional help or just find people you can vent to. Try to form friendships with some of your coworkers or fellow students, especially if you work in the helping professions - they know better than anyone what you are going through. 

Prioritize your physical health. When you neglect your physical health, you are more likely to burn out - you run out of fuel faster when you have less in the tank to begin with. Prioritize eating healthy meals and getting all the nutrients you need. Make a habit of exercising. Practice good sleep hygiene and try to improve your sleep. 

Talk to your supervisor, advisor or boss. Are there things about your specific work or school environment that could be improved for you? Could you be transferred to a new team? Do your roles and responsibilities need to be clarified so you know exactly what is expected of you? Do you need additional training to do your job well? Are you dealing with harassment that could be reported to HR? See what can be fixed. 

Consider a change. Sometimes you just need a change of pace after a while. Many social workers, for instance, eventually leave the profession - a lot of people simply have a lifetime limit on how long they can do that kind of work before they need to switch to something that doesn’t involve human horror every day. If burnout is a consistent problem, it might be time to think about taking a leave of absence, changing to a different role, or switching careers altogether. 

Hope this answers your question! MM

[prismatales]

Endeavor with a quirkless child

These headcanons had already been requested before, but it felt like they were a bit messy and rushed so I opted to remake it as much as I could. Hope you enjoy it. This is going to be a long post.

Part 2 - Part 3

WARNING: Mentions of child negligence, panic attacks, mentions of abuse.

• You are Shoto's twin sister and youngest of the Todoroki siblings, your birth was a surprise for the whole family since the doctors only noticed one baby during the whole pregnancy and Rei didn't even look like she was carrying twins.

• You have your father's hair and eye color while the rest came from your mother, being a carbon copy of her with the same facial features and eye shape, it was like seeing Rei with a red wig and contacts.

• When Shoto's quirk manifested but yours didn't Enji waited for a while, but eventually he suspected his daughter was quirkless when there was no change, he took you to the doctor anyways, to confirm his suspicion.

• His guess had been right, you were indeed quirkless, after the doctor gave the diagnosis his whole attitude had changed, he barely paid you attention on the way home, but the moment you came back home it was like you didn't even exist, he wouldn't even look at you.

• His treatment caused a huge rift between you and your twin, Shoto wished your father would ignore him like he did to you, you wished he would at least remember your name. your other siblings -especially Touya- and your mother made sure to show you as much affection as possible, with Rei it was a bit harder though, she loved you but the sight of your hair and eye color would made her uneasy, then everything started going downhill.

• Her mental health had been greatly affected by your father's constant abuse, this proved to be fatal the day she accidently hurt Shoto, your father didn't hesitate when he sent her away. Then the day Touya died the rift got worse. Fuyumi ended up having to step in and take care of Shoto, who you barely talked or interacted with, your father made sure you wouldn't go anywhere near his "masterpiece" and distract him from his training, Natsuo took over Touya's place and helped take care of you, trying to spend as much time with you as possible, out of all your family you ended up taking after him the most.

• Eventually you ended up spending less time with Natsuo and Fuyumi, Natsuo was busy in high school and with after school activities, sometimes he wouldn't even sleep home, staying over his at his friend's house during study session. Meanwhile Fuyumi started college, she was always busy with her studies and with chores, sometimes you'd try helping her when it was obvious how stressed out she was. Being home alone with people that treated you like a ghost was hard. By the time Shoto and you were about to start high school there was no difference in your relationship, the two of you barely knew each other, let alone talk.

• Neither Shoto or your Dad realized you were also going to attend class in U.A., you had done everything yourself and convinced Fuyumi of helping you when it came to sign important stuff.

• A few days before school started you made the decision to dye your hair -sporting a pixie cut- a different color in order to avoid being recognized as a Todoroki, being in the Support department meant you'd probably end up interacting with your brother's class, and the last thing you wanted was to get his attention.

• It was during the sports festival people found out you were Endeavor's child. apart from your classmates and the school staff nobody else in school was aware you were a Todoroki. Personally you blamed Present Mic, he had been so excited during the obstacles race and accidently yelled out your full name, (Name) Todoroki. You could feel your heart rate dropping significantly, your secret was out.

• "EEEEEHHHH?!?!?!?!"

• The whole stadium was in chaos, everyone was yelling, you could hear some of Shoto's classmates screaming "that's your sister?!" Your brother was speechless, Fuyumi and Natsuo knew this would happen, the whole school was shocked. For the first time in years your Father had noticed you...and he was furious.

• During the Cavalry Battle the feeling of your father staring your way was pretty obvious, even from afar the feeling of his glare almost digging a hole into the back of your head was pretty obvious.

• After the Cavalry battle was over and the other activities started many students were trying to approach you, thankfully your friends made it easier to escape. It wasn't a surprise this would happen once people realized who you were, but to suddenly being roughly grabbed by the arm and dragged away by your father as soon as you were in the clear certainly was a surprise you did not see coming.

• Endeavor had confronted you, what were you doing in U.A. distracting Shoto and what had you done to your hair, he still hadn't let go of your now aching arm, you could only wince by how much it hurt, a bruise would definitely appear.

• "If you paid any attention you would know I'm staying as far away from him just like you ordered or did you forget I'm not allowed to talk to my own brother because I'm nothing more than a failure?" He wasn't expecting you to talk back, neither did he expect the way you glared at him, it was a glare filled with spite and frustration, he recognized that kind of look, it was the same way he glared at All Might. It was an Irony, his youngest daughter may not have a quirk, and she may have her mother's face, but that glare was one-hundred percent his, it easily rivaled Shoto's.

• The moment he made a threat about pulling you out of school he quickly regreted his words "So that's how it is? you're going to get rid of another distraction aren't you? Just like you did with Mom!? Just like you did with Touya?!" the shock of your words quickly made him let go of your arm on reflex, an ugly bruise had already shown up.

• It was at that moment Enji finally took a good look at you, he was expecting a scared and docile child, but now? that look filled with hatred was proof enough you weren't said kid anymore. Before he could do anything else you had already ran away from him, neither of you had noticed Shoto had been listening on the conversation.

• After the Sports Festival was over the whole school went on break, during those days Enji slowly started to notice your presence around the house, every now and then he would hear Fuyumi and you talking, the conversations were often short, he asked her about it, She mentioned that you were often on your phone talking with Natsuo when he wasn't busy with college since he was closer to you than her, sometimes it made her sad to know you were closer to him, but you always made sure to let her know how much you appreciated her, it's just that Shoto needed her more than you did.

• The relationship with Shoto a bit more complex, it was hard for him to talk to you considering your habit of avoiding him, at first he felt hurt, but with some time and patience you eventually stopped, the both of you would make small talk every now and then, it was awkward but it was a start, the truth is the both of you hadn't really made an attempt to talk. Until the day you had run into each other when he went to visit your mother, who you often visited since middle school, Rei had thought you two were getting along and was so happy, neither of you had the courage to tell her it had been just a coincidence so you both opted to make an effort to mend your relationship as siblings. As a way to start over he offered to introduce you to his classmates once class started again, you did the same.

• When it came to Enji though, it was obvious you were ignoring him, If he came into the same room you were in, you would get up and leave without hesitation. You wouldn't answer if he tried to talk to you and if he insisted all he'd get was a blank look or a glare, a snappy response every now an then.

• The only time you wouldn't leave was during dinner, mostly because Fuyumi and Shoto convinced you to stay, otherwise you would have stayed in your room, the dinner had been awkward, you had stayed and talked with your siblings, but refused to acknowledge your father's existence. Enji was starting to get annoyed by your "childish demeanor".

• During the internships he contacted the support company that was in charge of his costume, they were more than happy to offer "Endeavor's daughter" an internship with them. When you found out you had been furious, the moment they contacted you they never referred to you as anything other than his daughter, you hated it, all the blood, sweat and tears you put into your work and what do they call you? "Endeavor's Daughter", Not (Name) Todoroki.

• Enji and you had an argument, you had rejected the internship, you were going to get it based on your achievements, not with his help. He told you "The mere fact you have my last name is already helping you being noticed, you're still a child, you could use their help!" you gave him an incredulous look, This.meant.war.

• A few days later he barged into your room after receiving a notification with a huge bill on his credit card from an expensive hair salon (Shoto had stolen his credit card and took you to get your hair done by a professional recommended by Kirishima, turns out you had messed up with your hair dye).

• Enji noticed you weren't there but your laptop was left on, the content on the screen caught his attention, you had an assignment from school that consisted of creating a Powerpoint presentation where you had to recommend ideas for support items or upgrades for official Pro-heroes, maybe it was bad luck or someone thought it would be a nice joke, but you ended up being assigned to work on his hero costume. What caught his attention was how your work was so professional.

• The presentation had a picture a journalist had taken of him during patrol, he had to admit you actually picked one of his favorite ones. The presentation itself was nicely elaborated, you were meticulously pointing out how his costume worked, the materials used so the costume wouldn't burn away by his flames, how some aspects could be better and possible upgrades that could be implemented without changing the design as well, an example was a temperature regulator like the one present on Shoto's newest costume. He was impressed nonetheless.

• Besides the Laptop was a stack of papers, they were your notes from school, test results and report cards, he felt like a child peeking on something he shouldn't. the only thing he could think to defend himself was "As your father I have the right to know about your grades" while looking thought the report card. It was excellent, all of your subjects had perfect scores, every single question on every single test was answered correctly. There was post-it notes from your teacher congratulating you for your grades, even letters with offers for possible internships with other support agencies. You were easily the Number 1 student in the support course. All this time he thought you only went to U.A. to mess around with Shoto. He didn't realize you were a genius. No wonder you had been so angry.

• By the time Shoto and you were back Enji wanted to talk to you about your grades, but stopped in his tracks when he saw what you had done to your hair this time. It was blond, but not any shade of bond, it was exactly the same color as All Might's. He nearly burned down the house.

• It wasn't until All Might's fight against All for One that Enji began to think about the things he did and the lives he ruined, how his actions ended up breaking Rei to the point she had to be sent to a hospital, the ways he hurt all of his family, how the majority of his children probably despised him, and what he could do to try and fix his mistakes. The day he was forced to take the mantle of the No.1 Hero left a bitter taste on his mouth, how could he accept the title of the new symbol of peace?!

• After his conversation with All-Might about the true meaning of being a hero, he made an oath to try and fix his relationship with his family...he wished it was that easy. He didn't know where to start.

• He tried to be more present in your lives, He asked Fuyumi when was your birthday: "It's on January 11" "No, that's Shoto's birthday" Fuyumi didn't know wether to laugh or cry in frustration "...Dad...they're twins..." "..."

• Enji would leave gifts outside of your door, hours later he would find them in the trash, not even opened. He tried to be present during Shoto's hero license course just to end up being ignored, when he told him he would become a hero his son could be proud of, boy did you rub off on Shoto pretty quick. "Maybe you should start by becoming a half-decent father to begin with" ...Ouch...

• After the fight with the high-end nomu he ended up on the hospital in critical condition, during one of his visits Hawks told him a young fan had asked about his condition, he paid no attention to that. Enji was released from the hospital and came home to find all his children having lunch, Natsuo, Shoto and you were busy slurping soba, but you were not looking at him or anyone else, there was a mix of doubt and distress on your face.

• When Natsuo tried to leave, Enji tried to stop him to stay and talk, all hell broke loose, he talked about how their mother and Fuyumi were trying to forgive him, about growing up having to hear Rei screaming and Shoto crying, he talked about Touya, and then he mentioned you, the look you gave Natsuo was a plead to stop, but he didn't. He was furious.

• "I know you complained about her hair, but do you even know why (Name) did it in the first place?! The first time she went with us to see mom she had a relapse when she saw (Name) because her hair reminded her of everything she went through! (Name) ended up having a breakdown once we came back home, I went looking for her when I heard her screaming and you know what I saw? I saw my little sister with a pair of scissors and almost all of her hair cut off!" Enji was speechless, he thought it was just teenage rebellion or pettiness, you couldn't help but look away in shame.

• That night Shoto talked to him, he knew the reason you were so down, you both had moved into the school dorms and were together when the Nomu attacked, he was there when you had a panic attack the moment everyone thought the Nomu had killed him, it took a long time for his teacher to calm you down, the aftermath ended up leaving you with an internal conflict. Then Enji found out it was you who had gone to the hospital, YOU, the daughter he had neglected the most out of all his children.

• Didn't you hate him? Why had you been so afraid if you "hated" him? did you wanted to forgive him? yes, he's your father, but did you have to? did he deserve it? all those thoughts had gone through your head during that moment, you weren't on good terms with him, but you didn't want him dead either.

• He made the decision to talk to you in private.

• You had been confused when your teacher said you were needed at home after class, and someone would come pick you up. Why hadn't Shoto been called?

• You didn't expect to see Endeavor's personal chauffer waiting outside, along with your father who said he needed to talk to you in private.

• The ride was awkward and silent, Enji noticed your body language, back rigid, hands gripping tightly on your uniform, slight shaking, you were clearly nervous and uncomfortable, this was the first time you two had been this close to each other. Until the car stopped in front of a place that made you relax a bit, it was your favorite cafe.

• He found out you frequented this place through social media, He saw a few pics from people mentioning how the Todoroki twins came at least once a week. it was small and cozy place, it felt like home.

• Once you both had picked a table away from other customers and ordered your drinks did Enji start speaking.

• He didn't realize how much his treatment had affected your whole family until it was too late, he asked for your forgiveness for everything he did to you and the others, for being a terrible father, for the way he neglected you, for the way he screamed at you once for trying to talk to Shoto when you were younger, for not realizing how much potential you had. Then he handed you a folder.

• "These are papers for an emancipation request, if you want to move away from home I won't reject your decision, and I'll provide you with all the financial support you ask for, all you have to do is sign the document, a lawyer will take care of everything else and work as an intermediary if you wish not to talk anymore, I'll understand".

• Enji thought you would sign right away by your silence, that you were reviewing the details of his offer, he didn't consider you would close the folder, there was no anger or fear in your face, you were calm.

• "Please understand one thing...I...I'd like to say that I forgive you, I don't...hate you, but you just can't expect things to change overnight, it's not that easy, you hurt our family for years. If you really want me to forgive you...prove me you can change, if you're willing to make up for everything, not with money or connections, but with your actions, maybe, just maybe I can actually see you as my da--as my f-father" you reached out for a handshake, a truce, he looked at your hand for a few seconds before reaching out, you were giving him a chance, and he would make sure not to waste it.

• Slowly your dynamic changed, the first time he noticed was when you stopped ignoring him like before, something as simple as a "good morning" was enough, dinner wasn't awkward between the two of you anymore, Natsuo was still hesitant to forgive him, but he was being civilized for your sake. Fuyumi was so happy when she noticed you stopped reaching out for her to sign anything school related, now Enji was the one taking care of everything, making sure to let you know he was proud of your work.

• How did he realize you were starting to make amends? Your hair.

• A few months later Enji heard you and Shoto talking in the living room. "Your roots are starting to show, are you going to retouch your hair soon?" "ah...no, not anymore" you ran your fingers through it, your red hair was clearly visible, it was starting to look like a bob cut "I'm going to leave it natural again". You were finally starting to accept him.

I'm considering doing a part 2 mainly from Shoto's perspective, I have some headcanons that would fit him instead of Enji.

[just-come-baek]

get in, loser 3

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | streetracer!reader | carthief!reader

Word count: 6.8k

Summary: Taeyong has another assignment for me, and though it seems quite simple, I could not foresee these complications. Also, why do actions have consequences? Somebody should’ve warned me before!

Warnings: mentions of murder | alcohol consumption | assault attempt | roofied drink | police negligence | drug smuggling | drug usage | poor stress management | drop dead goregeous men | foul language | 

A/N First of all, special thanks to Ally for supporting me through ko-fi! 🥰 Also, sorry for not updating it sooner, I’ve been busy with work and college, the next chapter will be probably around New Year, since I’d like to write something christmasy. 🎄Enjoy~~ 

There’s something unexplainable about Taeyong.

He’s a living paradox; on one side, he’s a ruthless mafia boss who won’t hesitate to attack people who had dared to wrong him. However, on the other, he’s a caring leader that is ready to go out of his way to protect his loyal associates.

Though it was, give or take, two weeks since I got to know him personally, I could deduct this much. There was nothing he valued more than loyalty, and I made a mental note to myself to never let him down, especially in this department.

Despite witnessing him murder Haechan and Jisung, I felt oddly safe in his arms, and it was alarming as fuck. Only God knows how many red flags I decided to ignore this night for the sake of his warm embrace. Perhaps it was stupid and reckless, but I didn’t care.

I was scared, and it provided me with warmth and comfort. Taeyong was the one who inflicted the wound on my mind by making me torture Haechan. However, at the same time, he was helping me to treat it with his support.

I didn’t do anything wrong. However, according to Taeyong’s twisted sense of justice, it should be me to punish them – an eye for an eye and all of that bullshit.

As soon as Taeyong led me out of the basement, he leaned in. His whisper tickled my sensitive skin as he ordered me to wait for him in my new car. With a slight nod of my head, I exited the mansion, awfully glad he let me go. Though I tried to forget it even happened, my mind was replaying all of the events from the last hour, making me sick.

The cold fresh breeze hit my face, making me shiver. Wrapping my arms around my torso, I made my way to the vehicle. Once inside, I turned on the music player, looking through for my therapy playlist.

The first song on the playlist was “Don’t Cha” by The Pussycat Dolls, and I nervously began tapping my fingers against the steering wheel in the rhythm. At some point, I unconsciously started singing my heart out, and it actually helped me calm down my nerves.

Unfortunately, the sensation was short-lived. As soon as Taeyong sat down in the passenger seat and closed the doors, I once again became a nervous wreck.

What did he want to discuss with me in private?

“Your opponents didn’t make it easy for you, did they?” Taeyong asked with a mischievous smirk upon his face after he saw the current state of the car.

“It’s just a couple of scratches; it’s no big deal,” I stated, trying to brush it off. Though it pained me, I knew Doyoung would gladly help me fix the vehicle in exchange for a fancy bottle of booze. (And some free ride coupons if he happened to be extra whiny.)

“So…” I cleared my throat, trying not to seem overly intimidated by his presence. “What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked, avoiding his dominant gaze. Under the influence of Taeyong's penetrating eyes, I’d most likely agree to anything in a heartbeat, and that’s not what I wanted at the moment. I had to be assertive and stand my ground.

“First of all, where is the money you won tonight?” Taeyong inquired, and I tilted my head toward the glove compartment, where I had stuffed all the cash I had won in the race. With a playful smirk, Taeyong reached in, pulled out the bag, and looked inside.

“You made me really proud tonight,” he commented, staring at the money before he put his hand into the bag and threw a handful of cash on my thighs. “That’s the tip, spend it wisely,” Taeyong added, and I smiled sheepishly, having no idea what I could spend this money on.

“Thanks,” I answered out of courtesy.

“I know you must be exhausted, so I’ll be quick,” Taeyong started, and I smiled, glad he understood my state. I had survived a couple of terribly tiring days, and right now, I just wanted to return to my tiny apartment, crawl under the covers, and sleep to my heart’s content.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Next Saturday, I have a business to tend to, and I’ll be needing a driver,” Taeyong explained vaguely, and I nodded my head, making a mental note of it. “Normally, I’d ask Lucas, but we’re a bit understaffed right now, so he’s going to be pretty busy.”

If I wasn’t half-asleep by now, I would be outraged. Ever since I had stolen Taeyong’s vehicle, I put my blood, sweat, and tears into proving I could be a legit gang member. And now, they were looking for recruits, the nerve! Partially, I might’ve been an indirect reason they were understaffed at the moment, yet it still managed to anger me.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll do it,” I replied dismissively, not even bothering to ask for any additional information. The case seemed too easy; there must’ve been a catch, but at this point, I didn’t care. I just wanted this conversation to be over with. Taeyong wouldn’t assign me to this task if he didn’t believe I could pull through, so I naturally agreed, hoping I wouldn’t regret this negligence.

“Someone will text you more details sometime next week until then, get some rest, you look like you need lots of it,” Taeyong spoke teasingly as he once again eyed me from head to toe. I could only guess how awful I looked with the bruises, the eye bags, and an unimpressed frown on my face.

“Gee, thanks for that,” I jested, making Taeyong smirk in response.

“See you soon, doll,” having leaned toward me, he whispered before pressing a delicate kiss in the corner of my mouth, confusing the hell out of me.

What the hell was that?

***

Though at first, I was doubtful, I somehow managed to get better over the week. I still had a vivid picture in my mind of the crime scene unfolding in front of me, but it didn’t bother me as much as it had earlier. Also, I didn’t feel like throwing up out of stress when I thought of Taeyong. As time passed, all the intensity seemed to wear off, and I was glad because I wasn’t ready to take in any more stress.

Right now, I felt great.

Most of the bruises already healed, and I slept to my heart’s content and even went to the fitness club for some yoga classes. Last night, Doyoung and I had a sleepover at my place with classic 90’s movies, unhealthy snacks, and fruity face masks.

Life’s beautiful, I’d say.

Just as Taeyong had said, someone had texted me the details about the next gig. It was Lucas, and as much as I liked hearing from him, I’d much prefer a face-to-face encounter. He was hot as fuck, and though out of my league, I would love to appreciate his ethereal beauty in person instead of imagining him in yet another gorgeous outfit. I just couldn’t help myself; it was his fault he looked like his place was on the cover of Men’s Health.

His message was short, but it provided me with a lot of information, and in all honesty, I was glad he didn’t give me too many details. All I had to do was to escort Taeyong and his friend to a nightclub outside the city and drive them back to the mansion. The car would await me in Taeyong’s driveway, and I should arrive about half an hour before the departure. Oh, and of course, what the dress code was – nightlife extravaganza.

I had no idea what business they were to tend to, but I decided it was for the better. The less I knew about Taeyong's dirty dealings, the less trouble I was getting myself into. If I knew what they were about to do, I might’ve found myself in yet another one stress-heavy episode. It seemed like the only reasonable option to stay the hell away from any possible stress factors.

“How do I look?” I asked Doyoung as I stepped out of my bathroom, letting him check out the outfit. I was wearing a black two-piece, consisting of a cropped top with straps around the waist and a pair of high-waisted leather skinny pants. With ankle strap red high heels, a matching quilted purse, and sharp make-up, I felt sexy and empowered.

“You look like a badass CEO, is this the look you were going for?” Doyoung stated after carefully judging my outfit. Sighing, he put one leg over another. “I like it,” he smiled, giving me thumbs up. “Top it off with that leather jacket, and you’re good to go.”

“The black one or the red one?” I asked, looking at the jackets, wondering which would suit me better, ignoring ‘the really???’ look that Doyoung was giving me. “OK, never mind, sorry I asked,” I groaned, throwing the black jacket at Doyoung’s face, putting the red one over my shoulders.

“Mr. Bad Boy won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” Doyoung remarked in a snarky manner, and I stuck my tongue out, trying to ignore the verbal jab. Very sophisticated conversation between two best friends, I had to admit.

“I won’t even reply to that,” I sighed and went to the mirror to check out if my make-up needed any retouch. Doyoung must’ve really thought I was trying to impress Taeyong with the outfit, and to be honest, it was the least of my worries. Though we barely spoke with each other, Taeyong didn’t seem to understand the meaning of personal space, so I doubted he cared what I was wearing. As long as I’d let him take it off, he would be satisfied.

Not that I thought about letting him do that…

I was a professional, and sleeping with my boss, or even thinking about it isn’t at the top of my priorities. I’m a skilled car racer and a thief, and that’s what I’m planning on focusing on.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back. Close the doors when you leave, okay?” I told Doyoung, and he smiled, lying on the couch, reaching for the TV remote.

“No worries, I’ll just watch the game, clean up the mess you made, and leave,” he said before he stuffed his mouth with a handful of potato chips. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

***

Punctually, I parked my cute Fiat on Taeyong’s driveway right next to a big ass black Hummer. Having got out of my tiny vehicle, I made my way around the monster truck, seeing Lucas in the driver seat, setting up the navigation system. I knocked on the window, and the man turned his head around in a second, sending me a playful smirk.

God, he’s ridiculously hot. My memory didn’t do him justice. With his hair swept back, in a loose red jacket and a low-cut black t-shirt, he looked mesmerizing. A minute later, he exited the vehicle, and I saw him in all his tall glory, and for a brief second, I forgot how to breathe.

It was the effect® Lucas had on regular people.

“The keys are in the ignition, the location already typed into the GPS system. Taeyong and the other guy should be here in a few,” Lucas said, and I nodded.

Who’s the other guy?

Not even Lucas knows his name?

Strange…

“Hello to you, too,” I spoke, smiling at him. Taeyong was nowhere to be seen, so I cleared my throat before firing a question, initiating small talk. “How is recruiting going?” I inquired, genuinely curious about the progress he must’ve made.

“Nothing much yet, but I’m full of hope,” Lucas answered honestly, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, you inspired me to broaden my horizons,” he added, and I cocked up my eyebrow, wanting him to continue. Did I inspire him? Wow.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’ve done some impressive shit,” Lucas confirmed, and I blushed at the compliment. “I’ve figured we need more women in our field, and I’ve talked to two best female candidates I could find. Right now, we discuss terms of recruitment,” Lucas explained excitedly, and I was positively shocked to hear such news.

Did someone hit him in the head with the feminism manifesto, or what?

“I don’t know what to say…” I whispered, trying to wrap my head around the newest revelation. Having experienced the treatment I received from most of them, it was hard to believe it took them so little time to change their mindset. I mean… it was just Lucas for now, but the change was already visible. “I’m happy to hear that; I can’t wait to meet them,” I added, turning my head to the side upon seeing Taeyong and his friend.

“Meet who?” Taeyong asked in confusion as he didn’t know the full context of our conversation.

“We were just talking about new recruits. I fill you in as soon as I have everything confirmed,” Lucas spoke. Taeyong nodded his head in comprehension, not even half as interested as I was. “Have a safe trip. I’ll get going,” he excused himself before walking away to a white Lamborghini Huracan.

“Missed me, doll?” Taeyong asked with a suggestive smirk decorating his face, as he bit on his bottom lip, glancing at me from head to toe. Yikes! It was unprofessional, and I wanted to scold him for being such a caveman. However, on a second thought, I decided to straighten my back to assert my confidence. Taeyong just wanted to express his appreciation for my fantastic outfit. Even though he chose the creepiest way of doing it, I chose to ignore it with a subtle eye roll.

“Is he always this nasty with you?” The mysterious man asked me as he walked past Taeyong, stretching his hand, greeting me like a regular person. “Pardon him, I’ve told him many times to work on his manners, but it’s like talking to a wall,” he added, and I chuckled, respecting the man already. He was talking shit about Taeyong in his presence – it was admirable.

“Who’s nasty? Speak for yourself!” Taeyong yelled, but his shorter friend just brushed it off.

“I kind of got used to it,” I replied casually, trying to give him a neutral answer.

“I’m Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, but since no one can pronounce it right, everybody calls me Ten,” he introduced himself, and I replied with my name, hoping he would use it instead of yet another infantile nickname.

“Nice to meet you, Ten,” I answered, smiling at the man politely.

“Should we get going?” Having cleared his throat, Taeyong asked, urging us inside of the vehicle. Following Taeyong’s order, I smirked, thinking of his ridiculous behavior. It was the first time when I didn’t give him my full attention, and it was evident it bothered him.

It was new and refreshing, and it was kind of cute of him.

“Yeah, sure, get in, losers, we don’t have all night,” I added, growing a little bit impatient with their slow movements.

“You really have to stop calling me that,” Taeyong whispered in a low voice as he put his hand on my thigh and gave it a firm squeeze.

“And you really have to fasten your seatbelts, or we’re not going anywhere,” I teased with a big, artificial smile, scraping his hand off my thigh. “Those rules apply to you, too,” I added, looking into the rearview mirror, catching Ten sitting comfortably, ignoring seatbelts.

“Is she always like this?” Ten asked, yet obediently following my instructions.

“No. Usually, she’s way cooler,” Taeyong answered, pouting slightly.

***

A little over an hour later, I parked the Hummer in front of a night club. Apparently, all types of shady dealings were meant to be discussed over strong liquor and with a half-naked lady sitting on their laps.

“Good luck, boys,” having turned off the engine, I spoke, sounding awfully like a mom, dropping her kids at another soccer practice.

Annoyed, Taeyong smirked. “Oh no, you’re going with us,” he added, and I cursed under my breath, displeased that Taeyong managed to ruin my plans of staying behind and not getting involved in whatever business they were about to discuss. The less I knew, the better, and Taeyong was really making it difficult for me.

Trailing slowly behind them, I entered the club.

“Get anything you want. We’ll be back in a few,” Taeyong whispered into my ear as he slid his platinum credit card into my palm. “Don’t cause any trouble,” he added before they both walked away to the booth at the back of the establishment.

I still could see them, though they were outside my earshot. It couldn’t get any better. I wouldn’t have to worry about hearing anything that wasn’t meant for my ears. However, at the same time, I could appreciate their natural beauty, fashion sense, and confidence in their original habitat.

I was a designated driver tonight (duh), and it was more than irresponsible to buy myself an alcoholic drink – especially with my ridiculously low alcohol tolerance. Leaning over the counter, much to the bartender’s dismay, I ordered a virgin Mojito.

Having checked whether or not the bartender spat into my drink, I picked up the glass, wrapped my lips around the straw, and took a sip. Though it was delicious, I’d much prefer it to have some alcohol in it. Maybe next time, perhaps tomorrow on my day off, I told myself as I spun on the barstool to have a look at Taeyong and Ten.

They both looked gorgeous, though they didn’t fit the typical mobster description.

Taeyong had his now baby blue hair styled down, a white suit jacket, a baby blue T-shirt, and light pants that made him look like some lawyer on a business trip. Ten, on the other hand, with his messy parted bangs hairstyle, an olive bomber jacket, black hoodie, and a pair of black cargo pants, resembled a lost college student.

The men, who they were meeting, were a completely different story, though. All of them seemed like lethal mobsters with their short hair and all leather outfits. I knew for sure I wouldn’t like to stumble upon them in a dark alley. Without any doubt, they had guns on them, and I was fearful enough to turn my head around and return to my drink.

Not knowing how much time it would take them to discuss all terms of whatever agreement they wanted to sign on, I decided to text Doyoung to pass the time. Unfortunately, before I managed to pull out my phone, my drink got knocked over by a very drunk girl sitting on the barstool next to mine.

“Hey, watch it!” I shouted as I jumped off my stool, not wanting to get all wet. In a matter of a few seconds, the bartender rushed over, helping me wipe off the counter.

“I’m really sawwy,” she said in a drunken haze, and I rolled my eyes, not really wanting to start an argument with an intoxicated person. When drunk, I also tend to be more clumsy than usual, so I simply decided not to hold her accountable for such a minor mistake.

Having apologized for spilling my drink, she excused herself, leaving her date at the bar alone. A good-looking man ordered another round of cocktails for him and his date. I cocked my eyebrows at his behavior. She was already drunk; another drink wouldn’t make her any good.

In a minute, the bartender placed two cranberry vodkas on the counter, putting it on the man’s tab. At first, I wanted to mind my own business and not attract any unnecessary attention. However, when I noticed the man slipping something into the woman’s drink, I knew I needed to intervene. He wanted to hurt her, and I just couldn’t let that happen.

Sighing, I jumped off the barstool and marched to the bathroom, wanting to warn her. Thankfully, she was standing in front of the mirrors, washing her hands when I found her.

Casually, I stopped next to her and pulled out my lipstick to reapply it.

“Are you alright?” I asked her, watching her wobble in her ridiculously high stilettos. She was barely standing on her feet – she was in no condition to have yet another drink, let alone a drink spiked with some type of drug.

“I feel funny. I had one drink, yet I feel like I had five,” the woman commented, placing her purse next to the basin, searching for cosmetics to touch up her make-up. “It must be because I barely ate today, I was so stressed about this date, so I only had breakfast,” she added, but it didn’t calm me. If anything, it made me even more alert.

“Is it your first date with him?” I inquired, trying not to sound intrusive. She seemed a bit naïve, and I wanted to look out for her. If I could prevent her from getting hurt, I had to try.

“Yeah, he asked me out yesterday in a coffee shop next to my building. He’s so romantic,” the woman explained dreamily, and I refrained from groaning in distaste. What kind of dudes did she date in the past to think this guy was romantic?

That was all I needed to know to figure out that he just wanted to get laid and toss her aside. He just wanted to use her body without even earning her consent. No matter how good looking he was – it was unjustifiable. I couldn’t let her go to him and become a victim. I had to try and prevent her from getting hurt.

“Are you sure you want to go back to him in this state? If I were you, I’d reschedule,” I commented, trying to talk her out of continuing this date.

“What is your problem?” asked she, her tone laced with anger and irritation. “I’m on a date, and you keep ruining it. What’s your deal?”

Wow, that was rude.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She couldn’t be for real, right?

“Listen–” I started, trying to defend my case, but she, once again, interjected me.

“No, you listen! I’m on a date with his hot man. You may try your luck somewhere else. I can bet you’ll find someone willing to fuck you but buzz off from me, and my man,” she hissed, and I just blinked a couple times, trying to comprehend what just happened. Though she was annoying the hell out of me, I still had to help her. Perhaps she didn’t fully deserve my saving, but I had to try. Friends or enemies, she didn’t merit to be taken advantage of.

Trying to flee the scene, she grabbed her purse and turned around to storm out of the bathroom. Fortunately, I managed to wrap my hand around her wrist before she made her way to the doors.

“Get a grip, woman!” I shouted at her, hoping she would listen to my loud voice – especially when she didn’t seem to particularly enjoy my calm and worried tone. “He roofied your drink and wants to take advantage of you. You better get yourself a ride home and leave.”

She looked at me, and I looked at her, having an intense stare contest. She must’ve been weighing her options before she tore her arm from my grasp.

“I can take care of myself,” she added before leaving the bathroom.

I tried, I told myself, but it still made me uneasy. She didn’t listen to my warnings, and she was about to get hurt, and it made me feel remorseful. I didn’t do my best. I still could prevent her from getting assaulted.

Heaving a deep sigh, I left the bathroom, determined to stop the man from drugging her even if I had to swallow the poison myself.

They were sitting by the bar as earlier. She was laughing at his joke, and he had his hand on her thigh. They seemed comfortable, but I knew enough to realize it was superficial.

Slowly, I approached them, stumbling over my legs, pretending to be shitfaced drunk. Once the drink was within my reach, I fake-tripped, spilling the alcohol on the man’s laps.

“You bitch,” he yelled in absolute anger. Apparently, he didn’t like it when his plan fell through. “Look what you’ve done!” He jumped to his feet, trying to wipe off his jeans.

Unfortunately, his furious outburst brought lots of attention to us. Instinctively, I turned to look at Taeyong. He was staring at me, mouthing, get out.

It was my much-awaited cue, so I gave this gross man some half-ass apology and left the club without any second thoughts. I had enough of this drama; I’d rather wait for them in the car.

Patiently, I waited for Taeyong and Ten to return. Time flew by quickly as I browsed my social media feed, forwarding the funniest memes to Doyoung.

Maybe thirty minutes later, Taeyong knocked on the window, wanting me to open the trunk. Two huge men with heavy leather jackets and gold chains around their necks threw four enormous black bags into the trunk, shutting it close with a loud thud.

I had no idea what the cargo was, but it didn’t sit right with me. Whatever it was, it must’ve been illegal, and it made me jumpy.

“What’s in the bags?” I asked carelessly, regretting my questing the second it left my mouth.

“Do you really want to know?” Taeyong challenged, and I vigorously shook my head in firm denial. Chuckling, he added, “Just samples.”

“Right,” I answered, dismissing the topic. Quickly, I turned on the engine and drove away, wanting to get back to the mansion as fast as it was lawfully possible.

Unfortunately, not talking about the cargo didn’t make me stop thinking about what’s inside the bags. Taeyong’s business has many branches, varying in dozens of illegal activities. Regardless of what was sitting in the trunk, we would all go to prison if caught.

“What kind of trouble did you cause when I specifically requested you didn’t?” Taeyong asked somewhat throughout the ride. His hands were squeezed in fists, resting on his thighs as he waited for my answer.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I genuinely apologized before I began pleading my case. Hopefully, with proper justification for my actions, Taeyong would understand. He was a human, after all. “I just couldn’t stay idle and watch this nightmare unfold in front of me. I had to help this girl out, even though she didn’t seem to appreciate it."

“Jaehyun was right about you,” Taeyong whispered mysteriously, making me raise an eyebrow in confusion. What kind of prejudice Jaehyun held against me? “You’re way too nice for this job,” he added, and I took a deep sigh, expecting a much worse response.

Though it pained me, it was understandable that being good was a bad thing in this line of business. Typically, I’d be glad to hear such a compliment, but under these circumstances, it made me upset. I wasn’t a saint, but I had some sort of a moral backbone.

“I wouldn’t necessarily put it that way,” I trailed off, thinking of the best way to present my abilities in the most fitting way.

“It was admirable if you want some second-hand opinion,” Ten interjected, pretty amazed with my attitude. “You should’ve punched him in the face, though. I’d love to see that,” he added, and I giggled, picturing my fist colliding against his jaw.

That would be a very nice picture.

“Can you drop me off at the Moonlight club? I’d like to meet with a friend of mine if that’s not a problem?” Ten asked, and I hummed in agreement, punching the club location into a navigation system. It was on our way, so it really wasn’t a nuisance.

“Sure thing,” I added, returning my focus on driving. Unfortunately, as soon as I shifted my attention to the front of our lane, I saw a car overtaking the Hummer. A second later, it flashed red and blue lights right, mentioning for me to stop the vehicle on the side of the road.

The police cruiser.

FUCK.

It was impossible. After doing so much illegal stuff, it was ironic to get caught when properly driving. It was a bad sign, and in a matter of seconds, I turned into an anxious ball of stress.

What a lame way to the end of my career!

OK, you gotta keep calm. Normal women can bullshit their way out of getting a ticket, so you can do it, too! I tried to psych myself up, though it didn’t help much. My mouth was still dry, and my hands were all sweaty. They’re about to discover I’m hiding some illegal stuff in the trunk. I couldn’t go to prison – orange is definitely NOT the new black.

“You can do it, doll. Don’t lose your cool,” Taeyong whispered, giving me an encouraging squeeze on the knee. Admittedly, it didn’t work.

“Yeah, don’t even think of all the drugs we have the trunk stocked up with,” Ten added, and I angrily turned back to yell at him for giving me info that I did not want nor need.

“Why would you say that?!” I shouted, trying to collect my thoughts. Cool, cool, cool, cool. You got this. You’ve survived worse. “If we make out of this alive, I’m gonna kill you,” I warned Ten before I straightened my backs, rolling down the window for the policeman who approached the vehicle.

“Good evening, Mr. Officer,” I beamed innocently, trying to read the policeman’s surname off the uniform, yet in vain. “I didn’t go too fast, did I?” I asked, batting my eyelashes in a poor attempt at flirtation.

Yikes, so much cringe!

“Driving license and vehicle registration certificate,” said the police officer coldly, completely ignoring my pathetic wooing. Unwillingly, I handed him the documents, praying to all the gods for him not to investigate the trunk. “Please, step out of the vehicle,” he added, and I followed his orders, ready to cooperate if he was willing to overlook the car inspection.

Obediently, I entered the backseat of the police cruiser, awaiting the interrogation.

“I’m an experienced driver. Did I make a mistake?” I inquired, waiting for them to give me the reason for pulling me over. My driving skills are mastered to perfection. I was really interested in what lame-ass excuse they were about to conjure to give me a ticket to fund the city’s budget.

“It’s just a routine checkup,” one police officer spoke dismissively, checking my data in their database. “All cops were asked to do routine checkups. Apparently, tonight some gang was doing drug drop-off, yet we stopped dozens of suspicious cars, and nothing came out of it. It must’ve been a false lead.”

What the fuck?

How, on Earth, did the police find out about this? Even I, who was a part of the drop-off, didn’t know what was inside the bags until two minutes ago. Was there a mole in the organization? Or maybe the police sent an undercover agent?

Thoughts were running through my head at a ridiculous speed, my gears were shifting swiftly as I tried to make any connection. Unfortunately, I didn’t connect shit. One thing was sure, though. If, by any chance, they let me go without investigating the car, Taeyong wouldn’t be thrilled to hear the news.

“Really? Drugs? And here I thought I live in the safe neighborhood,” I commented, feigning my cluelessness. Surprise, surprise, it actually sounded natural. Almost as if I was born to be a benighted dumb-dumb. “You better catch those smugglers.”

“We’re doing our best, miss,” the other policeman chimed in, and I tried my best not to roll my eyes at his for this evident negligence. They had culprits right under their nose, and it seemed they did not suspect me.

How could a dumb chick like me be involved in such a shady operation, am I right?

As much as I felt the urge to prove them wrong, I decided not to. As tempting as it was, it was extremely unbeneficial. I just wanted to get the hell out of the cruiser, drop the guys at Taeyong’s mansion, get my paycheck, and go home.

“Where were you going at such a late hour, miss?” The policeman asked, handing me back my documents after not finding anything worth further investigation.

“My friends were at the bachelor party in the club outside the capital, and they got really drunk, so I drove all the way there to pick them up,” I explained, though I got a feeling they weren’t listening to what I was saying.

“Uh-huh,” one of them muttered, quickly writing a messy note of the routine checkup, handing me back my documents. “That would be all, thank you for your cooperation,” the cop added, and I politely smiled, bolting out of the cruiser.

Phew!

Having fastened my seatbelts, I drove away. I just wanted to get the hell away from them, hoping they wouldn’t change their mind and order a thorough vehicle inspection. Taeyong and Ten must’ve had a dozen questions; however, I just turned up the volume of the radio, ignoring their concerned glances.

“Get out,” I barked when I abruptly stopped by the Midnight club. Perhaps it was rude, but I didn’t care. I’ve had a very stressful night, and politeness wasn’t on my mind.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow; good luck with miss grumpy,” Ten spoke before he jumped out of the vehicle, almost as if he was afraid I was going to talk back to him.

“What’s with the attitude?” Taeyong casually asked, and I sighed, trying to calm myself down. “I get you’re stressed, but you shouldn’t take your annoyance on us. Besides, if you’ve forgotten, let me remind you. I’m your boss, and Ten is my close associate.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized before I revealed what exactly happened in the police car. Truth to be told, Taeyong didn’t seem particularly surprised.

“That’s not the worst thing I’ve heard today,” Taeyong whispered, looking at my profile. “Jungwoo from Busan division called me today. Some of Yuta’s men crossed the border. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate our little prank,” he explained, and I grew speechless.

Karma was getting back at me.

Why do actions have consequences?

“That’s not good,” I answered, unable to form a coherent response. I was royally screwed, yet at the time, I was overwhelmed by the revelation.

Why couldn’t I just wait for Taeyong to put an ad on Craigslist, for fuck’s sake?

“Hey, look at me,” Taeyong ordered, and I obediently tore my eyes off the road to gaze into his eyes. “Don’t think too much about it; it’ll be fine,” Taeyong promised, yet his words didn’t make me feel assured. “You’re one of us; we’ll protect you.”

“You better,” I added, clutching my palms around the steering wheel in yet another stress-fuelled episode. There better be a professional health care program for Taeyong’s employees. Otherwise, I may need a therapist. Stress factors don’t stop coming, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to carry on much longer.

“Do you want to hang out?” Taeyong inquired, taking me by surprise. He, the mafia boss, wanted to spend some time with such a peasant like myself. That concept was wild, and it actually made me wonder. I couldn’t really say no. Some people would die to get a chance to wander around his big-ass mansion with Taeyong himself. “We can order some take out and just chill. What do you think?”

“I’d love that.”

***

Since the police knew the registration number, Taeyong ordered me to park the vehicle in a large garage under his majestic mansion. Having turned off the engine, we got out of the car, and I handed him the keys, lifting some heft off my shoulders. It was a nice car, but the memories it held were terrible. I’d rather forget that I even drove that thing.

“Give me a sec,” Taeyong said, taking a handful of samples, stuffing his pocket with them.

“What are these exactly?” Having creased my forehead in contemplation, I asked.

“These? Oh, it’s a new type of drug. It’s called the punch,” Taeyong explained, showing me a single dose of the drag. It was nicely wrapped like candy, and inside it looked like a mint. “It’s like LSD had a baby with shrooms,” he commented casually, winking at me. “And it tastes like bubblegum; you want to try some? The first batch is in the house.”

“Maybe later,” I answered dismissively, not really keen on having my first trip with Taeyong. But on the other hand, who was a better candidate to do drugs with? “I’d rather have some take out first if that’s not a problem,” I added, hoping he wouldn’t press me into doing anything out of my comfort zone. Not that I expected Taeyong to force me to do things against my will. I didn’t. After all, he was a really considerate man.

“Sure, what cuisine are you craving? I’m thinking… maybe something spicy. How about Mexican?” Taeyong proposed, and I vigorously nodded. Either he was my soulmate or really was able to read minds. “I’ll order something delicious.”

This time around, his mansion felt odd.

It was still majestic and glamorous, yet at the same, it was quiet. Back then, it was packed with Taeyong’s minions, but right now, they were in hiding, giving Taeyong his much-needed privacy. Following behind him, roaming around the spacious corridors felt like being guided through a museum during a private tour.

Once settled in the day room, Taeyong walked up to the bar, brought two glasses and a bottle of tequila, and set them on the coffee table.

“You want some? You look like you need a glass or two,” Taeyong offered upon seeing me all tensed up and anxious on the leather couch, nervously scanning the room.

“I’d rather hear some good news, but the alcohol will do,” I answered, reaching for the glass, downing it in one go, only to regret it a second later. “Pour me another one.”

“Take it easy,” Taeyong suggested, yet obediently filled my glass before turning on music, letting me know what type of songs he was into. Apparently, for late night’s chilling EDM hits were his to-go playlist.

With some liquid courage, it was easier to relax at Taeyong’s place. I took off my shoes and stretched on the sofa comfortably, all unpleasant and stressful occurrences slowly fading away. Unfortunately, these feelings were about to come back in the morning.

Twenty minutes later, the food was delivered, and it was absolutely mouthwatering. Fresh corn tortillas, spicy ground beef with a ridiculous amount of cheese made a perfect combination, tasting orgasmic. If I had less self-control, I’d moan at the foodporn laid out on the table for us to devour.

“So… how did the meeting go? Was it a success, or did I fuck it up with my shenanigans at the bar?” I inquired, narrowing my eyes, carefully watching his reaction.

If I could make out an emotion that his eyes were conveying, it was amusement.

“We will see,” Taeyong whispered, reaching into his pocket, playing with a single sample in his hands. “I only distribute the goodies. I gotta check first if this innovation is worth my time,” he added before popping the substance into his mouth like candy. “Is ‘no’ your definite answer?” Taeyong questioned, looking like a cute innocent hamster with the pill dissolving against the inside of his left cheek.

After a few tequila shots and delicious Mexican take out, I was much braver. However, at the same time, I became a way less assertive version of myself. Consenting to his kind proposition was too easy. Besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen? His mansion’s probably the safest place in the country.

“Fine, gimme,” I gave up, reaching out for the pill.

At first, nothing happened. A few minutes later, still nothing, and I even began to think Taeyong gave me a sample from a faulty batch. It was until it hit me good.

The couch melted like milk chocolate swallowing me in its soft waves before I crashed through the floor of nonexistent colors splashes.

[mrvltwimagines]

Just Another Day

PLATONIC-ISH COWORKER!SEBASTIAN STAN x READER x (TINY BIT OF) PLATONIC COWORKER!MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER 

SUMMARY: You had gotten too comfortable at your old job where no one noticed anything about you and didn’t think about how hard it would be to hide your ongoing secrets from your new coworkers.

WARNINGS: Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Anxiety

WORD COUNT: 4.4k (whew another long one, oopsies!)

You knew with starting a new job that some of your secrets would shine through eventually. You were beyond grateful to have gotten this job, even if it was just retail. You had been struggling financially which had taken a toll on your mental health, so working again and knowing you have consistent paychecks coming your way was relieving.

Compared to your previous job, it only took the first day working at this new company to realize how bad you previously had it and how lucky you were to have landed this one. Your coworkers were all so nice, and while the customers you dealt with continuously acted like they were above you, that was just a part of working in retail.

Your anxiety was heightened during the first few days. You didn’t know anyone and you had to go through the constant motions of introducing yourself to anyone and everyone even though the very last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to yourself. The assistant store manager, Sebastian, was always checking in on you, even going as far as to ask how you were feeling mentally being thrown into such a large environment as the new person. You always responded that you were doing fine, but your anxiety was always creeping around the corner. You struggled with controlling your emotions at your previous job, always feeling so unprofessional and naive to cry or get upset when things got too much so you felt as if you needed to make a pact with yourself to not show as much emotion at this new job. 

You had noticed the pattern of male dominance throughout your new job. A lot of the women worked around the front end, leaving you to be one of the few working the floor with mainly men. You tried not to let your nerves show through each time you had to converse with some of the guys. You knew everyone here was going to be professional, but your guard was still up that one of them could act out.

The feeling of your phone continuously vibrating broke you out of your thoughts as you worked on the task at hand. You knew exactly who it was and fought the urge to roll your eyes, but even when you weren’t with him you didn’t do anything that would get you in trouble if you were in his eyesight. Taking a peek around you, you slyly pulled your phone out of your pocket, reading the texts from your boyfriend, most of them not being important but you knew the rule on texting back. Typing out a quick response with little commentary and answers to each of the texts, you slipped your phone back into your work vest.

“You doing alright over here?” you couldn’t help the small jump your body did out of habit while turning around with your hand over your chest. A small chuckle left Sebastian's mouth as he apologized for sneaking up on you. You could feel the heat rising to your face and neck, embarrassed at the thought of what he just witnessed.

“It’s fine, i’m doing fine,” you replied, nodding your head a bit towards what you were working on as if to prove that you were actually doing something productive, “I should easily be able to finish this all before i’m off today.”

“Oh good, thank you,” he smiled, “Just let me or Matthew know if you’re ever getting too overwhelmed and we’ll back off on giving you so many projects.”

“Oh trust me, compared to what i did at my last job, i am completely happy and not overwhelmed here, but thank you anyways.”

Your conversation lasted a few minutes longer before he had to run off to help out in another part of the store leaving you to get back to your task. 

The day flew by and before you knew it, it was the end of your last shift of your first week. You were overall ecstatic about working again and having such an easy going manager. The entire week went by so fast and luckily hasn’t added any more stress to your already stressful life. 

Waving goodbye to a few of your coworkers, you peeked into Sebastian’s office to see him and Matthew having a conversation. You were about to duck back out, but made eye contact with Matthew and he was quick to halt their conversation, waving you in.

“You heading out for the day?” he asked, a small smile gracing his face. 

Sebastian was the one who initially interviewed you for your job. He brought a comforting presence and was a huge reason why you felt it was a no brainer for you to take the job offer. Everyone else you talked to during the hiring process had nothing but kind things to say about him, and within the past week you understood and agreed with all the compliments that were laid upon him. Matthew was a manager you had met on your first day. You didn’t know what to expect out of him, other than the fact that Sebastian had referred to him as the peace making string bean. You initially laughed at that but upon meeting him, it was an incredibly fitting description. You felt no awkwardness or uncomfortableness around him, and thoroughly enjoyed the times you’ve gotten to work with him over the past week.

“Yeah, i’m sorry, i don’t mean to interrupt, i just wanted to wish you both a good weekend,” you retorted. You hadn’t felt much fear while working around all the men you do, but the possibility that either of them could be annoyed or upset that you just interrupted their conversation stuck in your head.

“No need to apologize, thank you, y/n,” Sebastian cut in, “You go have a great weekend, and we’ll see you bright and early on Monday, yeah?” You nodded, sending one last small wave before heading out of the office and the entire building altogether.  

Your smile faded and your nerves began to pick up on your drive home. You knew better than to talk about your new coworkers with your boyfriend, in fear that he’ll get upset that you spend so much time working with mainly other men. You used to find his jealousy endearing, thinking he was just worried to lose you, but it quickly grew tiring and left you feeling guilty and scared.

Your boyfriend had the tendency to not be able to control his anger. You’d been together for close to four years now, and about halfway through that something snapped in him and changed him for the worst. Any little thing could set him off, and while throwing verbal insults at you was his main technique, he has put his hands on you more than you’d like to admit. You felt so trapped and stupid for still being in love with him. You wanted to blame this all on a rough patch and that he was just stressed out, but it’s been a few years now and you’re worried that this is how it’ll always be. You didn’t have anyone else to turn to, and if you two broke up you didn’t know where you’d even go considering there’s no way you could afford to live on your own.

As you approached and parked near your apartment building, you quickly regain your composure and gave yourself a quick pep talk. You’ve got this, just put a smile on your face and hope he’s in a good mood. This weekend doesn’t have to be horrible.

* * *

By time Monday morning came around, more than half of your body was bruised and your confidence was at an all time low. The words your boyfriend yelled at you swam around in your brain, and the pain of the punches, slaps, and kicks he planted on you were felt over your entire body. He’d never been so ruthless when it came to his beatings before and you knew it was because you didn’t shut up about work and he had figured out about how much you work with other men. You just wanted to share how good things were going, but you should’ve known how fast doing that had the potential to upset him.

He had usually been careful to avoid your face, but this time there was a prominent black eye forming and no amount of makeup would cover it so you made sure you had an excuse to give to anyone who asks what happened. You dreaded the conversations that were bound to happen as you walked into work, your anxiety at an all time high at the thought of facing both Sebastian and Matthew. 

The day started off as good as it was going to get. Every time you bent over or extended your body too far you were reminded of every hit your body took. You felt your anger rising every time you winced or had to deeply exhale. Every time something like this happened you always questioned why you put yourself through it but always come back to the two answers: as horrible as it was, you still loved him. You had such good times together and sometimes he just got angry, and most of the time you could find the blame in yourself for making him angry. Also, you were stuck. Even if you didn’t love him anymore and were actively looking for an escape, you wouldn’t be able to afford anything on your own and you would have nowhere to go.

“Y/n?” You winced at Matthew’s voice behind you. You didn’t want to turn around, but you also knew that you would come off as rude and the last thing you wanted to do was make someone else mad.

“Goodmorning Matthew,” you offered back, slowly turning around to face him. You cringed at the look on his face and quickly avoided eye contact.

“I had a couple people inform me that you had a black eye so I wanted to check for myself and lo and behold you do. Are you okay?” He asks. You wanted to laugh at the question, but instinctually nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly answered, “I was cleaning this weekend and slipped while mopping the kitchen. Fell right onto the corner of my counter,” you chuckled, hoping your lie sounded realistic. He eyed you for a second longer, not seeming to buy your excuse. You could feel your heart rate spike and habitually began playing with your nails. He looked down towards your movements before looking back up to make eye contact with you which you held for a few seconds before choosing to look anywhere but his eyes. You cursed at yourself for being so obvious, but you didn’t know how else to act in this situation.

“It looks like it hurts, do you need anything?” He continued. You shook your head no, already knowing you’ve taken enough ibuprofen for the day and even that wasn’t helping too much so you just have to work through the pain.

“I’m fine, promise.”

You could tell by his expression that he was uncomfortable with the conversation and that it clearly wasn’t going the way he wanted it too, but he seemed to let it go for now with a simple “let me know if you need anything, mine and sebastian’s doors are always open” to which you thanked him and turned back around to your task. You could feel his eyes linger on you for a second longer before he walked away. You let out a deep breath, leaning your forehead against the shelf in front of you. You knew you were a horrible liar. You had even practiced for conversations exactly like that and still you sucked at lying. It’s like you couldn’t do anything right.

With one last deep sigh you attempted to get back to work, but your mind wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation over in your head. You thought of all the ways it could’ve gone, and all the other things you could’ve said to seem less suspicious. You cursed at yourself for fucking up yet another thing. 

You avoided eye contact with any other coworkers, and customers after that. Keeping your head down was your best option to not bring any more attention to yourself. Your entire body ached, including the splitting headache that was starting to form from either thinking too hard, or the throbbing that was going on around your eye. Potentially both things at the same time.

You jumped a bit at the sound of your work walkie talkie going off in your pocket.

“Hey y/n, can you come to my office when you get a chance?” The familiar sound of Sebastian's voice rang through the area you stood in. Your heart dropped, the idea of being in a small room with a man not seeming like the best idea, but he was also your boss and you couldn’t just say no.

“Yeah, i’ll be there in just a minute,” you responded, quickly starting to clean up the little mess you had created in your work area before taking your sweet time walking to Sebastian’s office. You know it was ridiculous to even think that he was going to hurt you, but after the weekend you had it was going to take a bit of time to not be uncomfortable around anyone and everyone. 

The sound of both Matthew and Sebastian’s voice rang in your ears as you approached the office. You heard the last bit of what Matthew was saying and instantly had the urge to just run out of the building altogether. 

“I’m telling you Seb, this isn’t a slip-in-the-kitchen black eye, this is a black eye you get when someone punches you. I’m surprised her nose isn’t broken or something.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry. You tried to build yourself up, thinking of every excuse you could and practicing every reassuring sentence you could think of that might get them off your back. It wasn’t their business after all, right?

With one last deep breath, you knocked on the cracked open door and slowly stepped through it. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Sebastian and the stern face he held. His eyes scanned your face before unintentionally running down your body as if to look for any other exposed bruises. His face loosened up upon returning back to your frightened gaze.

“Everything okay? Am i in trouble or something?” you asked, looking in between the two men. Your body felt like it was on fire from both the bruises covering it, and the intense gaze you were receiving from both of them. Their gazes softened a bit more at your question as they both shook their heads, shutting down the idea that i was in trouble.

“No, no y/n, you’ve done nothing wrong. I just wanted to check in on you, with this black eye and all. I know Matthew’s already checked in on you, but i just wanted to see how you are doing,” Sebastian spoke up. You looked between the both of them and felt a bit of anger rise at the uncomfortable situation you’ve been put into. You told Matthew you were fine, why couldn’t he have just kept to himself?

“Like i told Matthew earlier, i’m fine, just fell is all,” you retorted, sending a small glance at Matthew hoping he would get the hint that you weren’t too happy about this conversation. 

“Looks like more than a fall,” Sebastian continued to say while standing up to lean against his desk. You unintentionally moved back a bit, not taking much notice of your own actions over your heartbeat being the only thing you could currently hear. Sebastian and Matthew shared a look before Sebastian took a step away from his desk, approaching you a bit more. You flinched and took another step back, accidentally backing right into the doorknob hitting a big bruise that covered your lower back. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips as you brought a hand back to cover the spot you had just bumped trying to release some of the pain by rubbing it. 

Sebastian was quick to retreat as he watched you fully flinch away from him. He was more than four feet away from you even when he did take a few steps towards you, but your reaction was enough for him to confirm some of his suspicions. 

“Hey Matthew, do you think we could have the room?” Sebastian asked, getting a curt nod from Matthew as he looked back towards you and offered you a sympathetic smile. Honestly you didn’t want that. You didn’t want anyone's sympathetic or pitiful looks. You deserved everything that happened to you. You could feel tears forming in your eyes and instantly felt shameful. You made a pact with yourself to not show weakness and it’s only taken you a week or so and your emotions are already coming through.

You continuously blinked, willing your tears to go away as you scooted away from the door allowing Matthew to leave the room. Sebastian gestured at a chair near him and you hesitated to take it. You knew it would hurt to sit down and that there was no hiding the grimaces, but the look in Sebastian's eyes let you know that he’s already caught on to a lot of what's going on. 

You approached the chair and slowly sat down, trying to hold back how much pain you felt from putting pressure on the bruise on your tailbone and the one on the back of your left thigh.

“Are you safe?” was the first question he asked you, and before you could even think you habitually nodded. You knew it was a lie, and deep down you knew things were just going to get worse. You’d never seen your boyfriend as mad as he was over the weekend. It was like a constant where he’d just see you and see red. You walked on eggshells all weekend, and even before you left for work today you felt as if you weren’t allowed to take up any space. You were the furthest thing from safe. You looked up and made eye contact with Sebastian and instantly regretted it. The tears that you had managed to push back made their way to your eyes quicker than ever and fell before you had the chance to hide them.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered out, covering your face. You were humiliated that all of this was going on. You had gotten away with covering bruises and hiding emotions from all your coworkers at your previous job. The attention you were receiving now made you think maybe everyone you previously worked with were just assholes, but also that you would rather be ignored than be seen how you are right now. 

“y/n... why are you apologizing?” he breathed out, scooting his chair a bit closer to yours.

“I made a pact not to cry and here i am a week in and already crying in front of you.” 

“Well you’re clearly crying about something important so why don’t you tell me about that,” you shook your head, looking up at him for the first time since you started crying. You could feel a sob escaping your mouth before you could push it back down while shaking your head back and forth. 

“I can’t tell you,” you sobbed out.

“Listen, I know your outside life isn’t any of my business, but I also care about every employee in this building and seeing you come in with a black eye and clearly other bruises on your body, I’m just worried.”

You sat there for a second contemplating all of your choices. You could continue to lie and push everything back stating that he was indeed right, your outside life was none of his business, or you could tell him the truth and let him in on one of your deepest secrets. You could feel your head pounding, and you could hear your heartbeat grow erratic. Your tears had momentarily stopped but now your entire body was in panic mode. You couldn’t continue to make eye contact with him and instead chose to look down at your hands in your lap. 

“I’ll lose everything. It’s either this or nothing, Sebastian. I’m fine, i’ve been fine,” you offered up. You weren’t lying, but even what you said felt wrong coming out. how did you end up like this? How stupid are you to let yourself get this deep in the abuse and the relationship altogether?

“Hey, please look at me,” he scooted even closer, his knees nearly touching your own. His voice was soft, almost pleading so you gave in and lifted your head. You weren’t used to being talked so gently to, “Is your partner the one doing this to you?” he grimaced a bit at the question, almost like he felt bad even suggesting that incase he was wrong, but the way his body tensed up at your eyes quickly averting away from him you knew he got his answer.

“He loves me. I just do and say things that he doesn’t like,” you shrugged as if what you just said wasn’t a major problem. Your eyes began to fill with tears again and you let out an annoyed huff, “I’m sorry Sebastian, i really shouldn’t be telling you any of this. There’s nothing you can do to help me. I’ve grown used to the fact that i am stuck in my relationship.”

“y/n please look at me,” he asked again, seemingly satisfied when you complied, “just that sentence alone is enough to scare me. A grown man, hell even a child knows not to hit other people. There’s nothing normal about this situation and you need to get out of it. I’m not going to sit here and say it’ll be smooth sailing and that you’ll instantly be happy once it’s over, but for your own safety and livelihood i need you to know that it’s not your fault that he’s hurting you. There’s nothing you could do or say to justify the pain you’re in right now.”

You wanted to fight him on that but the look on his face told you to not even try. He seemed genuinely upset, distraught even. 

“What am i supposed to do?” you ask, throwing your hands up to gesture your frustration. 

“Do you have anyone else you can stay with?” you shook your head no, informing him that the only reason you moved up here was so your boyfriend could get you away from your loved ones. He grunted at that, rolling his chair back so he was back near his desk. He started to search something on his computer and the looks of a hotel made your eyes go wide.

“I can’t put anything like that on my card. He’ll see it and freak.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to pay for this. I’ll pay for it so it’ll have no trace to your name. So there’s your living situation for a while until we can get you something better. I will also happily help you with getting any of your belongings out of your current place. My close buddy is a police here in town and can also accompany us to ensure your absolute safety because there’s no guarantee without him that i wouldn’t beat the shit out of your boyfriend,” he talked so casually like what he was saying wasn’t changing your entire life. You shook your head not being able to wrap your mind around this true chance to get away from your boyfriend. There’s so many things that could go wrong, would all of this be worth it when there’s always that possibility that your boyfriend could absolutely lose it and want to actually kill you? There’s so many stories out there of partners exactly like your boyfriend that won’t take a break up seriously and come back to stalk, hurt and kill their exes. would you end up just another one of those damaged ex girlfriends?

The two of you sat in silence for a minute before he finally looked away from his computer screen and looked at your frightened face. He would never understand how your mind works through this terrible situation but he so badly wanted to help. 

“Why are you willing to help me so much?” You manage to ask. You look up at him and see something flash over his expression before it goes back to being soft. 

“You’re worth more than you think. You’re sure as hell worth more than being beaten down by scum. I care, i know matthew cares, even the others who brought up your black eye to both of us care. You just haven't been shown affection like that in who knows how long and think i’m doing something crazy here when really i just want you to be safe and happy. it’s what any decent human wants for everyone else.”

For the first time in years you had the urge to hug. You wanted to throw your arms around Sebastian and say a million thank yous, but you didn’t want to overstep.

“Sebastian i just - i don’t know what to say,” you chuckled out through the few tears that slipped out. 

“You don’t have to say anything, let’s just talk over this a bit, i’ll give my friend a call and we’ll get a plan set up.” you nodded as you both stood up. Your legs felt weak and the pain of standing straight up was overwhelming but you sufficed through. 

He watched how you moved and a deep frown covered his face. Your previous thoughts of overstepped evacuated your mind and without thinking you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him. It took a second for him to register what was going on, but he was gentle to wrap his arms around your back. You felt tense, but the second he reciprocated the hug your body loosened up and a small sense of happiness floated throughout your entire being. Everything was going to change. You were actually going to do this. There was so much that was going to happen, but for the first time in forever you felt relieved so for now, you were just going to embrace that.

A/N - please let me know if i should do another part to this! I do have more ideas for the storyline that would involve more of a relationship between the reader and sebastian, but i don’t want to do it if no one else wants that hahah

[innermort]

*** disclaimer: this is a very long diary type of entry that is probably quite boring for everyone else and may be ignored. it's merely a very lenghty epiphany I just had about my life and myself and I had to type it out for me, to lock in the thoughts, if you will. it was pretty therapeutic tho. 🙃 ***

10/Sept/2021

I just had the realization that I'm in the process of redefining every aspect of my self and my life.

I quit smoking cigarettes from one day to another exactly 2 months ago tomorrow and went from a heavy to a casual party smoker.

I rarely ever smoke weed anymore (plus when I did since quitting tabacco, I rolled with herbs) and now made the conscious decision to take another long break, so it doesn't interfere with my weight loss again. I get the worst munchies and have no self control when I'm stoned. I'm talking "5000+ cals in one sitting" type of binges. I'm not tolerating this kind of self sabotage anymore.

I re-discovered edblr. Yes. I know. Not the healthiest habit to get back into but it's the only thing that has actually helped me gain the motivation and willpower to put a stop to my raging sugar addiction and instead, an actual effort into losing weight again. Besides, I'm doing it in a much more careful and "responsible" way now (high restricting, taking supplements, no strict/exact calorie limit, very light to no exercise (okay, to be fair the reason for that is mainly my injured knee but still), letting myself eat/drink more than planned if I feel my body needs it). And let's not forget that I've literally been binging every day for the past 2 or 3 months. My diet nearly exclusively consisted of chocolate, pastries and pizza. Literally. I've gained 10 kgs (22lbs) during that time. That lifestyle was just as unhealthy, if not unhealthier.

I finally got to hang up and use my calender. Due to my ADHD (self diagnosed for now), I'm very forgetful and unorganized - at least in my private life. That's why I made the decision to get a big calender which I can use as a semi To Do/Buy list and appointment/meeting/bill reminder. Since I'm glueing a sticker to each day I got through without binging, I'm looking at it pretty much every day anyways. Plus, it's a motivater to not binge (reward that inner child)! Overall, it's helping me become more organized and put together which are two areas I've been lacking in in the past years. So far, I've been mostly using my phone notes but I usually write something down and immediately forget about it if it's not a grocery list or a To Do list I'm actively working through on that same day.

I have my first appointment at a psych ward since I was a teen. It's just a phone call and first get to know conversation but it's better than nothing and more than overdue. I'm finally taking the first steps towards getting diagnosed and being eligible for therapy. I'm sick of feeling like a victim of my own brain, I just want to be better. I deserve to be better.

I'm hungry for knowledge again. I deleted Tiktok from my phone because of how big of a distraction it was and because I realized that even though I'm being bombarded with new information everyday, I'm not learning anything. Our brains can't even comprehend the amount of information given in that short time span. Nothing sticks. Sure, you find out about some pretty cool stuff on TT depending on what kinda fyp you have but for me personally, it was just hours and hours of mindless scrolling in the end. It's crazy how addictive it is, too. Even despite the fact that I was already at a point where it didn't even give me that quick dopamine quick anymore. It felt boring and repetitive and I was merely doing it out of habit.

So, I got rid off the app. I started watching documentaries again. Mostly about gut health and mental illnesses like ADHD, Autism, BPD, Narcissm etc. Like TED talks or interviews/discussions by and with professionals/experts/diagnosed people. I'm back to not just craving but actually consuming something with substance, something that gives me more knowledge and insight on a topic. Something I actually want to know more about.

I realized and accepted that even though I am a creative mind, a fully creative job might just not be for me. I'm learning that maybe I'm the type of person who does something entirely different in their free time than what they do at work. And that that's very much okay. I noticed that at my job (this was the case for every job I ever had), my mind seems to work differently. When people expect me to do something, I have the needed pressure and motivation to get it done. I could also observe in myself that at work, I enjoy organizing/sorting stuff, I'm a fast and independent learner while I'm also excellent at training new employees, I'm much more detail oriented than in my private life - overall, it came to my attention that I might not actually be the ever chaotic forgetful mess who can't form a logic thought - or I can at least recognize that this is merely a part of me and not what defines and limits me as a person. I realized I actually like straightforward work, I like working alone and I like working precisely. When I was younger I would have never used any of these traits to describe my dream career. I would gag at the idea of working an office job and now I feel like this would actually suit me very well. Especially the working alone part would mean feeling less drained at the end of a work day and still having the energy to hang out with people I actually want to see. This is an extremely valuable lesson about myself that I finally seem to have learned.

After this big sub- and now concious evaluation about myself I'm also finally taking actual steps towards a possible career. I bought a course and worked through the first 2 lectures today, taking notes and writing everything down neatly for 3 - 3 1/2 hours (in total with breaks in between). I even got a notebook specifically for this new life project. I'm excited to learn. I feel scared, too. This is something I've never done before but I'm telling myself that trying won't hurt. I have my main job as a safety net, financially nothing can happen to me. I can only learn, even if I fail. And time will pass anyways, whether I get my ass up and put in the work or continue to be unhappy with what I'm doing without trying to change anything.

Speaking of finances, I also started taking those more seriously now. I stopped using my credit card (I was in negative numbers constantly, big numbers like -300 to -800€ due to constant overspending). I set up standing orders for my monthly fixed costs to make sure bills are always paid on time. Due to my forgetfulness and ADHD freeze I would often forget to pay or postpone paying bills until the reminder came in the mail and led to me having to pay on top or generating debt. I still have a little bit of debt to pay off but it's thankfully not a dramatic amount. I also have a second bank account for savings now where I transfer 200€ to every month. Even the simple act of calculating my fixed costs to see how much I can use for what was something that was desperately overdue. What I still have to do is sort out my receipts and write everything down in a housekeeping/budget book. And my first ever tax return. I am very much dreading both of these. 😃

Anyways. Wow. I really needed to type this out. I have the very harmful tendency to look at all the negative stuff and only focus on what I don't have and don't do. I really needed to take a long, deep look at all the things I've been changing around in the past couple months. A lot of it really passed me by until now. It's crazy but I really feel like a complete failure when my body isn't looking its best and it makes me blind for everything else. So, thank you to myself for reminding me that I am actually making a lot of progress, even if it has been in areas other than my fitness and looks. They're just as important (from a healthy brains point significantly more important, obviously) and deserve to be noticed and celebrated.

Conclusion: ❤️✨YAY, ME✨❤️

[deadlymodern]

Hullo! Hope you don't mind me asking, how did you first know you have ADHD? And how did you get into therapy? If you're feeling uncomfortable to answer, feel free to ignore this. Just wanna know when or whether someone should seek help especially when things get confusing, somewhat outta control ashdhdjkajshskalgghg. Thanks and have a nice weekend c:

Hi there! Hope you’re doing well! I’m already going to apologize because this got really long. I’m super passionate about mental health jdlfgjld. 

So, about therapy. I think one of the biggest misconceptions about therapy is that it’s only necessary for people who are in the middle of a crisis or are suffering from extreme mental anguish. However, therapy is a way to take care of yourself and to understand yourself in levels you never knew you actually could! Of course, if someone is struggling, it’s super important to seek help! But it’s also nice - and I dare say, preferable - to seek psychological help before you reach that point.

Think of it like going fishing in open sea. You set sail and you know what you need: you need to find an area to anchor your boat. But if a great storm hits and the waves start throwing your boat left to right, you’re not going to be able to focus on anchoring, right? You’re going to focus on getting through the storm.  Going to therapy while you’re in a crisis is like having an extremely experienced sailor help you navigate the storm until you both reach a safe area for anchoring. But going to therapy while you’re stable would be like having the same experienced sailor but having good weather and a nice little spot to fish. 

This is not me saying that therapy is a walk in the park. Having to look at yourself and your past can be painful and difficult. But once you pass the “surface” level in the sessions - be it the crisis or even just shyness and difficulty of opening up - you are able to dive into the origins of your problems and triggers, face obscure parts of your past (with emotional support) and understand how and why you do things the way you do. Does that make sense or have I just gone nuts? JIGJIOD.

I had my first therapy session when I was around 16 years old. I didn’t enjoy it much. I felt like the lady was low key judgmental and that made me feel ashamed and insecure about opening up - which made me drop therapy completely for a few years. But, then, I met my ex gf and she gave me a lot of support to try it again. I attempted two other therapists before I found the one I just instantly clicked with. And now, I’ve been consistently in therapy with her for almost four years. 

Finding a therapist you are comfortable with sometimes takes a while. It’s a similar process to finding a good family doctor or even that perfect hairstylist that just gets you. It takes some trial and error, but there are many wonderful professionals out there. So if you are able to, go to therapy! 

I don’t know where you are from, but in Brazil you are able to get free therapy from SUS (the public health system) and even from university students - who are in training, but are being supervised by professionals who will help them with your case. So, do a little research in your country to see if you can do something like this, if you have no means to afford it any other way. Do a few sessions with them, see how you feel - you can always stop it if you are uncomfortable and try again when you’re ready c:

***

Now, about ADHD.

ADHD can be really difficult to be diagnosed. Even the name doesn’t make any sense because ADHD is far from just being Can’t Sit Still And Forgets Shit™ disorder, you know? I have the inattentive type, which means I was not the hyper, disruptive child in class. Most girls with ADHD have the inattentive type and are only diagnosed later in life because it is extremely overlooked by parents, professors and the medical community. (ADHD in general is overlooked, but the inattentive type is “less of an inconvenience to the neurotypical”, therefore, it’s not really noticed).

Do you really want to know how I found out? I found out through fucking Tumblr HUISDHFIUD. I’m not even joking. A mutual of mine here on simblr reblogged something about ADHD and I chuckled and went like “that’s funny, I do that”.

But then I started reading the symptoms and watching videos of people with ADHD talking about it... And I was shocked to see that many of the things I thought were just average traits were actually symptoms. Then the penny dropped real hard and I told both my therapist and my psychiatrist that I thought I could have ADHD. We went through the testing shenanigans and, surprise surprise, I’m neurodivergent 😅

I’m still trying to get used to it. I mean, I’ve received the official diagnosis only a couple of weeks ago! But it’s shocking how misunderstood it is. Never, in a billion years, I would have thought I had ADHD. NEVER. 

So, raising awareness and talking about mental health is really really important. Knowing yourself is really important. Having professionals that you trust is really important. And being validated is important. 

My biggest advice would be to trust your body. You know your limits and you know yourself better than anyone else. If you believe you could have a mental illness or a neurodivergency, surround yourself with people who are supportive and try getting your diagnosis ❤️

I’m so sorry this is long af. But I hope this is helpful and answers your questions! Take it easy 🌼

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Hello!! I was wondering how the papa’s would comfort their trans s/o who is feeling dysphoric?

You got it! 

And a big shout out to all of my friends who helped proof read these! Always appreciate it!! 

Disclaimer: Because the prompt was general trans I tried to write this as neutral as possible. Since there are many different identities I wanted to write in a way that could be relatable to anyone experiencing gender dysphoria. Also note I tried to write each Papa using a different way to comfort the reader, but know each method isn’t for everyone- same with not everyone has the same trigger or responses.  

It's very personal and I know that everyone experiences and copes with it differently, so I hope I conveyed these well. 

Any and all feedback is always appreciated, as it helps me write more accurately and mindfully! Thank you! 

I’m going to also put the triggers for mentions of triggering experiences, general dysphoria talk, and brief mention of symptoms! Everything under cut! <3

The Papas Comforting their Trans S/O experiencing Gender Dysphoria

Papa Nihil: Nihil’s arms are open for you whenever you need him. One of his personal methods of comforting is physical touch, should you want it. His other is always insisting when you might need a social media break. Nihil tends to notice that sometimes your social media has been triggering you more often with images or just generally stupidity of ignorant people. Nihil politely asks you to join him for a break. Anything to get you out and about, away from the onslaught of information that is doing nothing for your mental health. You both leave your phones in the Abbey as you go outside and sit to talk. Nihil rubs your hands and shoulders as you just vent about all the hurtful things you’ve seen online- getting it off your chest. As Grandpapa, he knows the worst people can say or do and assures you that their stupidity shouldn’t make you despise yourself. Other people’s standards and ignorance on social media does not make you any less. You are living the way Lucifer wants you to, and no one has any say on it! 

Papa I: Papa does what he does best, and that’s be there to listen and to be the shoulder to cry on. He knows this can be a vicious cycle for you, and that you have your doctors and professionals for advice. The last thing he wants to do is cram “advice” or empty words of comfort down your throat. Papa asks if YOU would like to talk and if him being there will help. When you say yes, that’s exactly what he does. Papa never interrupts and only gives input when you need it. But most important, he’s consistently there to give you his words of genuine affirmation and validation. You’ve been grateful hearing them from him, as he’s been nothing but honest with you. Papa’s words make you feel better because you know he means them from the bottom of his heart. Papa, from the get go, always used the terms you’ve felt most comfortable with and gone out of his way to show you that your identity is valid to him. While ultimately this is about you, he wants you to feel supported, SEEN, and SINCERELY VALIDATED  by him as your partner. 

Papa II: Papa has tried to preemptively help you avoid triggers, something he asked if you were alright with. Even though you yourself are able to steer clear of events and situations that might trigger you, the support and help has always been appreciated. Papa has  been a rock in most situations for you, someone to help keep you grounded if and when you needed him. But one of the biggest ways he has helped you was being there when you got ready in the morning. You’ve spoken to Papa about how seeing your own body or appearance can sometimes set you off- especially on days where you don’t feel like yourself.. He sure as Hell makes sure you aren’t alone when it happens. Whether it’s just bathing and dressing together in comfortable silence, or him helping you put together an outfit for the day (since he has an eye for it and honest input.) Hell, there have been times he’s sent for his personal stylist to make sure you look and feel incredible! It’s a small gesture, but he wants you to look and feel good in your skin.  

Papa III: If it’s one thing Papa is good at, it’s taking your mind off of things for a while. One of the big ways you have asked for his help is him being there to help keep distracted. You find that simply being together and having fun is one of the best ways to ride out the wave. Papa, in turn, never turns down an opportunity to spend the day with you! Whether your bonding is having a quiet day indoors with cuddles and the tv, or going out into the world for something new and exciting! Either way, Papa makes sure you aren’t alone when you are feeling the most vulnerable. Papa will do everything in his power to get you to laugh, even if it's to make a fool out of himself for the moment. He’s also big on being very affectionate and physically comforting if you so wished. Nothing, to him, is more comforting than having someone hold you and give you gentle kisses and caresses. Papa will do everything in his power to keep you from going back into your mind.  

Papa IV/Copia: Copia tries to offer support and love to you during these times, however you might need it. He’s always beaten himself up that he can’t flip a switch and take pain away from you. But he’s learned that it doesn’t matter how he feels, it matters what he can do to be the best partner to you. Copia knows that different things can help you at different times. Sometimes you’ve wanted space, other times you’ve wanted to stay with him and be distracted. Recently, you’ve decided to start physically transitioning and changing small things to be more comfortable. Copia is your number one cheerleader and helps wherever you need him the most! Whether that’s taking you to consult for hormone therapy, joining you on vocal exercises, or possible surgery if you needed. Hell, the man is always down to completely revamp your wardrobe if you so wished! At the end of the day, Copia just wants you to be happy with you. To live your life authentically and fully when you are ready.

[thejosh1980]

I was lookin' back to see if she was lookin' back...

Yesterday Alex, Mum and I celebrated...

It's been one year since Alex and I arrived at Mum's place in Ocean Shores, NSW Australia.

If you've read my earlier blogs in 2020, you'll know that we had a lot of trouble getting home. Between the government and airlines, at one point it looked like we'd never get here; we were stranded. I was living in constant worry, stress and hopelessness - in fact, we all were: Alex's family in Germany and Mum's family down under.

Our July 2020 flights were cancelled or rescheduled many times, and eventually we decided to buy new, more expensive flights, on another airline through an agency, which gave us some assurances we'd be on the flight. Our new flights booked and confirmed for early September.

We flew Frankfurt to Adelaide, which was not our original plan. Adelaide had no COVID, and the chance of getting on a flight and getting into the country was higher than say, Brisbane, or Sydney. We could quarantine in Adelaide for 2 weeks and then fly on to Brisbane, which is closer to Ocean Shores.

That was like.... so last year...

This area where we now live is known as the Northern Rivers of New South Wales, and when we arrived at Mum's there was no COVID in the area. We are only about 35 minutes south of the Queensland border, about 8 hours north of the big smoke, Sydney.

Now, a year on, COVID has arrived here.

It's been biting at the heals of tourists and essential workers travelling north since Sydney went into lockdown a couple of months ago.

It's not our idea of a good time.

Right now it's school holidays, which is meant to be 2 weeks of families holidaying in caravan parks and hotels, an essential part of this tourist attraction mecca. Byron Bay, Brunswick Heads, and surrounds are usually very popular places; so popular that most locals complain about how busy it gets here during the holidays. You just can't get a parking sport anywhere!

The Northern Rivers was locked down for about 6 weeks through August into September because cases from Sydney were getting into regional NSW. These regional areas affected by COVID weren't near here, but they made a blanket rule for everywhere outside of Sydney, just to be on the safe side.

Honestly, I don't blame them for the rule, regional outback Australia can't cope with COVID, there's few hospitals, beds, or COVID experience in the scrub and farm land.

Anyhow, I digress...

After those 6 weeks or so in lockdown, they lifted the restrictions here in the northern rivers (and other areas of NSW).

And now, after 2 weeks, lockdown is back on...

There are a couple of cases in the area. Snap lockdowns are the government's preferred method of containing outbreaks. Lockdown areas wherever cases pop up for a week or two (or longer) to limit exposure.

It reminds me constantly that life can change quickly at any time. I have decided I will not waste time once this current lockdown has ended (who knows when that will be). I will visit friends, family, and musicians who live close by. I want to see as many folks as quickly as possible, before another lockdown kicks in.

Besides the boring, never ending tale of COVID, there have been a few things happening this past year...

Alex has been working consistently in the real estate industry since her temporary visa kicked in late last year.

Her first job was a few more miles away than any of us locals would consider driving, and the position wasn't as enjoyable or rewarding as she had first hoped. She really dived in the deep end, and while she didn't drown, she probably needed a few swimming lessons before the attempt. It was a life lesson, one she took on board, and when a new job came up closer to home, she nailed the interview (as she always does), and hasn't looked back.

The 2nd job is less than half the distance away, strictly 9 to 5 and in a company which she enjoys. There's a strong company structure, good work ethic, and entertaining colleagues. Her supervisors, colleagues, and managers are all very supportive; I think she'll be sitting tight on this one for a while.

Alex has also found her creative side again, scrap book journalling, instant camera photography, and some kind of couples diary/journal/photo book too. It's become an almost nightly affair of focusing, creating, and having something to show for it fairly quickly. She's very proud of her work, and it's something she does just for herself. I don't expect you'll get a chance to see a photo of what she's done, and she likes it like that.

I had a bit of work late in 2020 and early 2021, nothing special really, but wait until the premier!! It's interesting to think that some day soon I'll be able to go to the cinema and see my ugly mug on the big screen (even if it will most likely be out of focus). I'll be on Netflix too.

Having the opportunity to be an extra on film and TV was a real boost for my confidence after being off stage for so long. I felt creative, met some great people, made some friends, and had a few bucks in my pocket. Happy days.

By jumping into an industry I hadn't been in before right after arriving here, it reminded me that Australia has a lot to offer. I found myself comparing Germany and Australia, and Australia often feels like it comes up short. This was a chance to prove to myself that there are adventures awaiting here down under.

So, I decided to go back to school.

The last time I was in a class room was in 1998!! I am studying a Diploma of Counselling, and am currently half way through my studies. I've found it very challenging, but have passed every assessment so far, and gained some handy skills too. I have a good connection with my teachers, and I really enjoy the company of my classmates; some of which I can even call friends.

I chose counselling for a few reasons, but the first step was really just a process of elimination. Besides being a freelance professional musician for several years in Germany, I had worked in offices, shops, warehouses, kindergartens and various other jobs. While I could go back into IT or something similar, I wanted to use this opportunity to try something new.

I had my fair share of mental health issues in the past (and present). I thought maybe those experiences could help me connect with folks who need support as well. When looking at course options, the counselling course stood out. So now I'm making a mid life crisis gamble that I'll pass the course, and feel confident and knowledgeable enough to take on the role that many others have taken on for me over the years.

The course has helped me find a routine too, one that I didn't know I needed, until it happened. When you're jobless and unfocused, the mind wanders, the days pass. Now my mind is focused on study, and I feel better for it.

Up until the lockdown hit, we were in class 3 days a week and then I'd study from home 1 to 3 days a week. When lockdown hit, we had to go online. However, being on the computer so much has worn me out, and I really start to enjoy those rare days where I am not looking at a screen!

To be honest, it's been challenging every step of the way, and I even thought about quitting several times in the past few months. However, my confidence has steadily risen to each challenge and I felt better for it.

That's the kind of vicious circle I enjoy.

In July I had my first live show in 13 months! In fact, to date I've only had 3 since the pandemic started! Fingers crossed I can cross the border next month and add a 4th.

I was approached by Cherry Divine to play guitar for her. It's a relatively easy gig for me. The songs are fun rockabilly tunes, Cherry sings great, and she already has a band and gigs. I'm helping her write a few songs too, for her next album. I can't thank her enough for sparkin' the fire in me to keep music alive in my life; for a while there I thought it was all a thing of the past.

With the spark has come the possibility of “The Josh” solo band coming together. While the band isn't moving at any great speed (the recent 2nd lockdown kicked in right as I was about to arrange a rehearsal), I'm finally eager to get a band together. I miss playing live, and I miss having musicians in my life. I miss the spontaneity of a show, life on the road, and crowd reactions.

I've even started to write some new material, and get those ideas on “tape”, well, on the computer. Slow and steady, between studying, family, pets and surfing, music is coming back into my life, and it feels good.

Our family unit here is doing well. Alex and I have been under mum's roof and mum's care for a year now. There are some ups and downs, but mostly I'd say they're ups... The house is big enough to give all of us space, all of us get time outside of the house (except during lockdown, I was mostly stuck at home, but that's OK for me)...

Last night we couldn't go out for dinner, but we did have take away from the local Indian which was really good, and a special treat for us, we don't eat out often.

Alex and I plan to get away every 5-6 months for a visit to somewhere we haven't been. In March we were on the “Sunshine Coast” and checked out Australia Zoo, and in June we went south to the mid north coast to pick up BB Junior.

It's nice to get out and explore. A bit hard to do at the moment, with the restrictions, but we've agreed another trip away (before Christmas if possible) is in order. Those trips are part of the reason why I came home, to see some of Australia, and I'm lucky I get to make those experiences with Alex.

It's also nice to get away from it all. I know we live in a beautiful spot near the ocean, but here, at home, there's the computers, the life and routine, and getting away keeps us fresh and focused on each other. It's definitely something I look forward to!

Speaking of BB Junior, he's almost 7 months old now, and a real character. While he's not the easiest cat to train, I've been getting a few tricks out of him, and he enjoys his time outside, with his harness and long lead. He visits his cousin each week for play time, Charlie, who is another ragdoll of a family friend who loves to play chase all day long with Junior. Alex adores Junior, and Junior adores Alex; they can't wait to cuddle when she comes home from work. He's very vocal too, so even when everyone is at work, I have someone to talk to!

Losing our little boy Mijo was a real difficult experience. I know I've written about him before, but he deserves a mention here, as he was a big part of our first year here. He was full of character and strength, he and I bonded very quickly and not a day goes by I don't think of him. He also brought Alex and I closer together. When she chose him for me, and when he passed, and all points in between, he brought us closer.

I've been focused on sport a fair bit since getting back and settling in. I bought a RowErg, also known as a rowing machine, and I row about twice a week, in addition to riding my bicycle about twice a week. I try to surf every chance I get, which unfortunately ends up being only a few times a month. It's my goal to do something sporty to get my heart rate up every day, and of late, usually I get there too. I don't really do it for any other reason than I love to snack and I can't snack if I don't do sport!

A benefit of my sport/snack workout routine is it helps me stay calm and focused and connected with those I ride and surf with.

I haven't asked Mum how she's feeling about having her middle aged son and his wife living with her recently. Maybe I should, but do I really wanna know the answer? Well, I think she's OK with it. After all, we drive her wherever she wishes! I suspect it goes a little deeper than that, and in all honesty, we enjoy each other's company.

Since Alex and I have been here, I'd like to think Mum has been living a little bit fuller life. I don't think her eyesight has deteriorated much in the past year, but we've been able to provide her with support, eyes to read the small print, driving and help with google, or something around the house. When Mum was diagnosed with celiac disease earlier this year, Alex took her shopping to check over the ingredients of Mum's favourite food, and when needed, found alternatives. It definitely made the transition to gluten free a little easier on Mum and it was a load off my mind that we were around to help her through that phase.

Winter 2021 was over before it even started. I forgot how warm this part of the world is, and I don't know why I own so many jackets! Returning from Europe, where I was wearing a jacket daily for about 9 months of the year, here it feels like, if it's really needed, and I mean if you're desperate, you might need one for 9 weeks of the year. I think the heater was on a handful of times, and the sun was shining just about every day.

I tell ya, it's some kind of paradise here.

It's been a bit difficult keeping up with our European friends and family. I sometimes find it hard to find the time to be proactive to contact the 20, 30 or more friends I'd like to keep in touch with regularly. I know our lives keep on keepin' on, but time passes by so quickly too, and next thing you know it's been 4 months since I last contacted you!

Sorry about that!

Don't take it personally, and I'll get back to you, eventually!

My overall mental health has improved over the year, I'd say it's become quite stable since I started the course. I mean, can't you tell? I write less and less in this blog, because I have less and less to process. I'm not sure if it's the fact there's a lot of self reflection that is inherently a part of doing that kind of mental health course, or if it's the routine of being a student or the new friends I've made and classmates I study with.

It could be that it's taken a year to come to terms with being back here, cause when I first arrived I felt uncomfortable, depressed and worn out... There were a lot of questions; is this a mid life crisis? What am I doing here? Will I ever feel good again? Is my music career over? What am I going to do now? Is Alex OK? Is Mum OK?

My journalling, blogging, and support from friends and family has helped a lot too this past year. Processing my thoughts in words, by clarifying and reflecting, has helped a lot. I've been trying to care for myself a bit more now and then too, I think people call it self care, sometimes I call it sport! Alex has helped me to recognise my achievements, however big or small, and focus less on what I haven't done.

I'm not perfect, but definitely improving.

I was hoping that Alex and I would be in a position to start looking at buying our own house around this time, a year in, but unfortunately, with one of us being a student and the ever rising cost of housing, we have to sit tight on that idea for a while longer. Sorry Mum, you're stuck with us.

There's been many smaller things happen during our first year here. Lots of moments of gratitude, love and support. There's some stuff we've forgotten, or that has been overtaken by something bigger. All in all, I'd say it's been a real rollercoaster home coming!

We're still here, a year on, still going strong, making motions, taking chances, being in love, talking shit, laughing, smiling, misbehaving and focusing... What more could we ask for?

Thank you for reading, for your support and love. I love you too.

Josh

[bettsfic]

1/ hi betts. i have kind of a specific resume question that i'm struggling with and was hoping if you have any extra time i could hear your thoughts on? right after i graduated undergrad, a lot of Things happened and then i ended up having a good old bona fide Mental Breakdown™ and spent the next two years just living at my mother's house just straight up doing nothing. like, crawling out of bed at 7 pm to get water from the kitchen and then going back to bed for 2 years straight type nothing

2/ now, a little over 2 years later, i'm finally approaching the place mentally realizing i can start partially digging myself out of this via employment and my own income, and am starting the whole job application process. my undergrad degree was a combo of history + media studies, i had gotten in to do my history phd at yale, Things Happened before i could get there, all combined with the realization that a phd is not something i can commit to right now given the dismal career opportunities

3/ thereafter, so now i'm floundering and ready to apply to anything across the board, just ANY type of position to hire me so i can at least get on my feet after a couple of years and figure out what the fuck to do. except now, my problem and query, is that i have an over 2 year gap in my resume, with absolutely nothing to show for it, other than just straight up going batshit insane. i have no idea how to go about explaining that gap in future interviews, other than lying, and i don't even

4/ really know how to go about doing that either. i would really really appreciate any of your input on the situation, or any general advice? thank you either way. btw, your writing and multi-chaptered fics were one of the only consistent and good things about those two years and gave me something to look forward to and think about, and i can't even put into words how much that Helped.

first of all, thank you, and i’m glad my fics could help a little. second, congratulations for beginning to get out of what seems to be a very dark place. i’m sorry you’ve had such a hard time these past couple years, and i hope things continue to get better for you.

keep in mind, i’ve never been on a hiring committee before, so i’ve never seen this situation from the other side. i’ve only applied to a lot of jobs, and i had the opposite experience -- how to explain juggling so many jobs at once, and why i felt i had to do that? it felt the same though in some ways, two years of my life where i couldn’t grow as a person or feel any emotion, because i was working every minute of every day.

so, you can only really do 3 things: tell the truth, lie, or don’t mention it.

if you tell the truth, you put yourself in a difficult position. even though it’s horribly ableist, hiring managers may hold a 2-year gap in your resume against you. i imagine they’re looking for any reason to deny your application. that said, you could also indicate that you took a long-term health leave and not say anything more. they’re not allowed to inquire further, and you never have to give more information than you’re willing to. i think sometimes there’s this assumption you have to explain the why of things in the working world, but you really don’t. you may have a manager that demands to know things, but if you work for a corporation, even if a manager demands information, you very likely will never have to give it. at work, you are a veneer of yourself. you do not have to be vulnerable or open. you only have to do a job. in the hiring process, all you have to do is prove that you can do a job. so, focus on that.

i don’t like lying, but it might not be a terrible idea to indicate in a cover letter that you’ve spent two years as, say, the primary caretaker for a sick/dying relative. it’s noble, sympathetic, sadly very common, and nobody would interrogate it because it’s such a sensitive topic. the trick is how you would sell it in an interview, i think -- you wouldn’t bring it up on your own, and if asked about it, you would have to put on a professional facade over grief, in other words a non-reaction, and politely side-step the question to indicate it’s too painful to talk about, and you understand why they have to ask but you’d really rather not get into it. while i don’t think anyone would catch onto the lie, i personally would be nervous about the karma that would invoke. (to this day i still feel guilty lying to my professors about skipping class and late work by telling them i had to take my dad to chemo appointments. my dad was actually dying but i only ever took him to one appointment. on one hand, i forgive myself because i was clearly suffering in ways i didn’t yet understand. on the other hand, i feel bad for using my dad’s cancer to my benefit [but less bad knowing my dad, a serial work-skipper himself, probably wouldn’t have cared]). also, you’d have to keep up that lie for the duration of your employment, especially if the fake relative passed away, and that’s your reason for seeking employment. the good news is, in my experience, when my dad actually did die on my first day of work, nobody brought it up, because it was a very uncomfortable situation.

lastly, you could just not mention it. especially if you’re applying for entry-level work, it’s very possible your interviewers or hiring managers just aren’t going to care. depending on the type of job, they may just be looking for a body and it doesn’t matter where you’ve come from or what you plan to do. in the grand scheme of things, two years isn’t a long time. it’s possible, if the hiring manager is older, “2018″ and “2020″ are not far enough apart to put up any red flags. especially having just graduated, there are lots of easy assumptions that can go there. looking for jobs, pandemic, applying to grad school, etc. but, you know, that’s a risk. you might default to this option and see what happens. if you’re not getting any calls for interviews, then try a different option. 

personally, my belief when it comes to work is always, “it’s nobody’s fucking business.” i’m one of those people who only ever shows a very specific, narrow piece of myself to others that i think is most relevant to them, even in relationships.

(an aside -- one time i was complaining to my bff about money troubles, and keep in mind, we talk every day, and he was like, “well you could always get a job?” and that was when i realized, my best friend didn’t know i had a job. because i never told him i had a job. so he thought i just didn’t have a job. it’s definitely a consistent pattern, that i’ll say something about myself, and someone who thinks they’re close to me will go, “you WHAT” and i’ll shrug and be like, “i don’t know it just never seemed relevant.”)

which is all to say, in workplaces i’m even more of a closed book. whether or not that’s a good thing is debatable, considering how i’ve hated pretty much every job i’ve ever had (besides teaching). but the point is, professionalism is a performance, and the cover letter/resume is just a script. it’s a picture of you, not you, and you can choose how to portray yourself. 

sorry this is such a long answer for what amounts to “i’m not sure.” any followers who have experience on the other side of the hiring process, do you have any advice for anon?