#of course it’ll take a while for me to accept failure bc it’s never a good feeling

[cherriko-art]

Today when I saw my therapist I talked about why I was so hard on myself and put myself to such strict and high standards. I told her that when I let myself “relax” or “slip”, everything falls like dominos because I struggle so much with self-control and moderation.

So if I skip one class for a day because it was a difficult day for me, all of a sudden I won’t go to classes all week. One small slip and everything spins out of control.

I’ve struggled with this cycle over and over again so I’ve eventually learned to not give myself any room for possible failure by not letting myself slip up or get too comfortable. It’s not fair to myself but I don’t know any other way to find a balance.

Then my therapist said:

“But you said balance. You’re trying to find balance, right? Balance implies that there’s an equal amount. That means there needs to be both success AND failure. You’re telling me you’re struggling to find balance, but you can’t achieve it because only success isn’t balance. If you want balance, you need to allow room for failure, and be ok with it.”

And I just. I don’t know. I was absolutely mind blown at that. It sounds so simple and basic but this genuinely never occurred to me, that failure was ok. I struggled and pushed myself so hard to avoid failure at all costs. Every time I felt like I experienced failure, I would find a way to “fix” myself to avoid it for the future. Because it was always my own faults for my own shortcomings.

Everyone in my life has only ever told me, “It’s ok, you’ll do better next time. Next time it’ll be different, you know better now. We all learn from our mistakes”.

No one has ever told me, “You failed and that’s ok”.

[rotshop]

get prankt this isn't an angst fic lol ,,

ANYWAY ,, i realized earlier that i could've just been calling 'auditor reader' employer reader this whole time and then i had a funny silly goofy little idea and now we r here,,,lol,,, ill proof read this later but i did this in one go no breaks so . help.

I might continue this later so!! consider this a sort of 'introduction' if u will,,

note ; auditor uses he / she / they pronouns in this bc ive decided im just going to push my propaganda onto all of you <333 also Hank uses he / they / xe

tw ; dissociation, dereality, some light body horror

Bloody Management

"This is out of your jurisdiction. You've wasted enough time here," you seethed dryly, staring down at the shorter being. "You've made no progress and have only proved your operation to be a strain on our relations and resources."

"Out of MY jurisdiction? YOU'VE never even been there before! You think you can just storm in and suddenly kick me out of my own work?" Auditor shot back, hands slamming down on the mahogany desk in front of her.

"Yes, actually, I do," you snapped, eyes narrowing. "I think you're forgetting just who you're speaking to. You've let this drag on for far too long and your ego has grown in tandem with its pointlessness."

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose as you continued. "Look, I understand. You put effort and thought into this little pet project of yours, but the results have all proven zilch. You fucked up, that's fine, but you can't keep meddling with this reality in hopes something will suddenly work again! All you're doing is tearing and poking holes the rest of us will have to deal with later."

"If you just gave me a little more time I could-"

"We've been giving you time. We've given you more time than we've ever given any project like yours," you gave a desperate look, "It's over. You tried and we tried, there's nothing that can be done. If you just worked with us then we could help you."

There was a long silence as they faltered, hands falling into their lap as their gaze followed, landing on the floor.

"And what happens to my Nevada?"

"We'll try and clean it up again. Return it to..some sort of normalcy," you hummed, "Though, with some of those tears in the fabric it'll take a bit longer than anticipated. That..clown, is proving to be rather difficult."

You paused, grin finding it's way onto your face.

"It's been tricky, if you will."

"Not the time."

You gave a 'tsk' in response, shrugging lightly, "I don't regret it."

"You'll be going back to our depths, effective immediately. While this project was a failure, we're still curious to see if there's anything else that can be done in a different time and place."

"And what about you? Are you going to sit all pretty in this fake office for the rest of eternity?" She questioned sarcastically, eyes dragging up to meet yours.

"God, I wish. I mean, seriously, you have no idea how nice it is to have some peace and quiet after dealing with that fuckin' office."

With a dry snicker and -presumably- an eye roll, they finally stood accepting their defeat.

"I presume I'll be seeing you?"

"If your little posse doesn't cause me too much trouble, yes."

"Have fun with that, I do hope it's as grueling as possible," he hummed, turning and striding towards the door to nothing.

"Thanks, was nice seeing you too."

The door peering to the void shuts soundlessly.

.

.

.

"Was the pun really that bad?.."

---

"What do you mean they're just neutral suddenly? It's not like they all just suddenly unionized or sum' shit! There's gotta be something going on," Deimos groaned, irritation dragging onto him and clinging desperately.

"Well- What do you want me to say! I'm just as confused as you are," Sanford huffed back over comms, making a vague gesture with no audience.

Hank stood in the other room, staring down at the few agents that were on their knees with their hands held tight behind their heads. They'd made no attempt to attack Sanford and xem, simply staring in a bit of surprise when the two'd busted in. It'd completely thrown the raid off, leaving them both in a state of stunned confusion. The agent that they'd asked about the sudden change in demeanor just gave some shaky shrug, stammering out that they'd all received an order to not attack under any circumstances from some unknown contact. 'They really just listen to anyone then?..'

It was hard to believe, hard to find any reason or meaning in that lead to any conclusive endings. Which, had lead to a small dispute going nowhere and fast. Hank only picked up on little parts of it, the words being muffled and distorted through the wall. Xe didn't really have much interest in getting a clearer reading of it though, it didn't sound like it meant much.

"Look, I'm just going to try and look for any documents or actual recordings of this apparent 'ghost order,' alright?..." A pause. "Deimos? Are you there? Shit- Of course the line dies now of all times."

The line wasn't dead. It was somewhere else, some-when else.

---

The ground felt cold.

.

.

No, was it warm?

Wait- No no no, it wasn't warm..

.

.

.

Was it even the ground?

.

.

Did it even matter?

.

Deimos could fuzzily recall it. Arguing with Sanford over the line. The points he made exactly didn't seem to ring through the fog of confusion and numb in his mind. Something about the Auditor, the agents, blah bla..something.

He'd been making to say something else when he'd seen it, something off in the corner of his eye. It wasn't anything huge, if you asked him he wouldn't even be able to tell you what it was. There was something wrong, but there wasn't. The ground was cold, but it was warm.

Something was wrong.

Everything is fine.

He'd turned around, looking around for whatever in his vision wasn't right.

That's rude to say, you know.

He'd never found it, something reaching from the depths to grab him.

You're making me sound awfully cruel.

With a groan, he picked himself up off the ground to observe his surroundings. White and black stretched infinitely around him, the 'ground' underneath him was the deepest of not-color while the 'sky' was its blinding twin. A building stood in front of him, a mix of ivory and ink twisted to form its structure. The door faced him, standing tall and straight as a soldier in spite of how tilted and off the world felt.

Before he could even really register it, something was pulling him up off the floor. There were no hands or strings physically attached, nothing sticking from him to drag into the infinite beyond his comprehension, no no. It was something quiet, a ghost or a whisper in his mind that pulled him through the ocean and to shore. The door grew larger- closer. His mind grew blanker. His hand twisted the knob.

Color flooded into his vision finally, the room in front of him coated in it graciously. The floors were a velvet carpeting, a wine red that felt of lavish and glitzy. The walls were lined in bookshelves, each filled to the brim with titles somewhere between poetry and latin white noise where imagination fell. At the head of the room stood a desk, polished mahogany standing tall and still, frozen indefinitely in time. Behind it, you.

Me.

Once again, he was pulled forward. Each step fell in front of the other, unsure of weight behind them and noise that followed suite. He felt half there. Half of a man and half of a void. It was..something.

Not pleasant, not bad.

The ground wasn't cold, wasn't warm.

It just was.

He finds himself meeting your gaze as he plops down into one of the seats in front of you. He finds his neck straining and bowing under phantom limbs that aren't there. He finds his eyes training on yours which stare back pointedly, finds himself between hot and cold. He finds himself sitting down before you as he watches from the window.

There's no window in the room.

"You must be so confused."

Your voice is in front of him, right? That's where you are, so your voice should be coming from there. It isn't though. It's around him somewhere. Even as you tilt your head to the side the noise of your own voice doesn't seem to follow it.

"Don't think too much on this all, alright?"

You mutter something. 'These grunts really weren't made for this- to be here. I'm surprised he even woke up.'

Someone nods in agreement.

"Wh..who are you?"

Is that his voice? It is. It has to be, it fell from his own mouth. He barely even felt it move. Is it his mouth? It has to be.

You pause for a moment, seemingly caught off guard. He doesn't know if its because he spoke or because of what he asked. Nobody clarifies.

"Why don't you call me [name]? That'll be easiest for you. I do apologize for dragging you here rather than appearing there," you hum, leaning forward on your desk. "I just wanted to make sure we had the utmost privacy."

I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be able to forget.

"Now, Deimos," is that his name? "I need to tell you something, I have to work on restoring things for you, so I can't deliver this message to everyone myself in the most..effective of ways. You won't mind filling your friends in for me, right?"

He doesn't answer. He can't. His tongue is lead and his mouth is stuck shut, if he opens it will surely be left that way for the rest of infinity- for the rest of this place, this time. Someone says yes in his voice.

"Good. Now, try to listen carefully..."

---

He wakes up on sand. He's sitting up quickly, stilted as his mind finds his body. His tongue is lighter, teeth separated once more as his jaws are their own entities again. The cliff is still under him, wind passing by him peacefully. The horizon stretches infinite.

The ground is warm, there's no mistaking it.

"Deimos? Are you there?"

He pauses briefly.

"I need to tell you guys something."

[opheliasbrokenmind]

strangers with insecurities - mark renton

well first of all i’m suuperrr excited for this bc it’s literally my first completed writing for mark renton and i kinda liked it?? this one is obviously for @rentskenobi since she deserves the best!! i hope you like itt 😌💞

let me know what you think and as always, you can send me any requests for mark renton 

mark looked at his reflection on the mirror and left the apartment, walking to his ‘job’. this estate thing had become something he got used to and well, he was doing good if anyone asked. 

he liked the urgency to persuade people and use words to sell/rent them the house. once he sat up, the phone rang.

‘good morning, how can i help you?’ his voice sounded like a stranger but he knew how to play the nice worker

‘hi, uhm, i’m looking for a flat in london’ the other person spoke calmly and mark thought she was young, unlike his usual clients

‘do you have anything on your mind? a particular street, maybe?’

‘somewhere clean and quiet could be nice, i’m not sure if there’s a place like that in london though’ she joked and mark smiled to himself, little did she know

‘oh i can try that. when are you available? and do you know where’s our office?’

‘i’m free all day if that suits you, too. i don’t know exactly, can we meet somewhere?’ mark noticed she had a remarkable accent but he wasn’t sure where’s she from exactly

‘i can show you some places now, how about we meet around the cafe on brook street, you know there?’

‘yes, i can be there in.. twenty minutes’ after she hung up, mark immediately grabbed some keys from his associates and left the building

once he was there, his eyes searched for her. ‘waiting for someone?’ the sweet voice came behind him and he turned around gladly, observing the owner of it

she was young, like he predicted, probably in her early twenties, dressed casually, looked natural. she didn’t look like the girls he used to hang around, not that he hung around with many

‘how did you know it was me?’ mark asked curiously as she smiled, ‘because you’re the only one who’s wearing a suit? seems like it’s only us here, and the fucking tourists, obviously’

‘you don’t sound like a local as well’ she nodded with his comment, ‘right. i might say i’m here for a little... break. i won’t be here for too long, just a few months’

‘let’s get started, then. first i have this flat at...’ 

after stopping by at three places, he led the way to a calm quarter which wasn’t far from where he lived. ‘this one costs more but you see, it’s wide, the neighbourhood is quiet, i can assure that because i live near and there are nice places around if you want to go out’

she opened the bedroom door, ‘looks fine to me’ she checked the bathroom and went back to the kitchen, ‘would you live here?’

her question caught him off guard, ‘what do you mean?’

‘not as the seller but as a person, do you think this flat is somewhere you can rest and study?’ she asked easily, looking at him with curiosity

‘well, why not i guess, it seems nice. a little bit big for me but you said just for a few months so yeah, i would’

‘okay then, it’s this one’ she paid the rent for a month and they left the flat together, ‘i need to pick my things from the hotel first’ she explained once they were out

‘i think it’s not your first time here, in london’

‘yes, some of my friends live here but they’re all gone, spending the summer in europe or something like that’

‘and you didn’t want to go back home?’

‘that’s for sure. dad’s somewhere in spain and if i go home, it’ll be just me and that crazy woman. i don’t miss ireland at all. looks like you don’t miss scotland, too’

mark found himself smiling, she spoke like she knew him and the thing was, she was right. ‘i fucking hate there, otherwise i wouldn’t be here wondering at these streets, would i?’

she sighed softly, ‘looks like we have something in common, huh?’

‘i bet there are more’

so that’s basically how you met mark renton. it was unexpected, strange, yet comforting. it felt right and real.

seeing him at the cafe was something you were hoping for and when that happened a few days later, you could tell he was glad, too

‘i see you’re exploring’ he said when you approached him and you smiled, ‘you can say that. oh and i still don’t know your name’

‘mark, mark renton’ he said and for a second, you thought his name reminded him of something he didn’t want to remember, or it was just your imagination

‘i’m y/n’ you said simply, sitting in front of him as he gestured you the chair

‘how’s everything going, any problems with the flat?’

‘it’s fine, quiet like you said. and you, any problems?’ you smiled and he shrugged, ‘can’t say there is, just keeping up with the usual shit’

‘i see, you keep impressing your clients with your charm then’ he took a sip from his coffee and smiled, ‘what can i say...’ you laughed and he found himself doing the same, ‘you know, you’re the only one i’m having coffee with’

‘now i’m flattered’ 

then, seeing him at the coffee became something usual. he had a few days off which you started to spend together, drinking coffee. 

‘so you’re in london, all alone?’ you asked one day, hoping it wouldn’t piss him.

‘yes, that’s why i left edinburgh. it keeps me on the line’ you leaned in a bit, watching him smoking a cigarette. ‘and you?’ he asked back, staring at you with those beautiful eyes of him 

‘i wanted to run away. belfast made me feel like i was a prisoner, surrounded with people i couldn’t bear. then i convinced my dad i wanted to study in france’

‘france? sounds like you ran too far’ 

‘thank god i did’

‘and what are you studying?’ mark asked curiously, already have ideas on his mind. ‘what would you say?’

‘literature, maybe?’ you smiled, ‘cinema’ for a moment, it felt like it was just you two in the world, two strangers in london, alone together

your coffee meetings turned into movie ones at the cinema and one day, you invited him to your flat, ‘we can watch a movie or just have a drink and talk, you know’ 

of course, he accepted the offer. ‘it’s warm so you can take off your jacket, if you want’ you said sheepishly, hoping he wouldn’t notice that you noticed he never takes it off

‘yeah, sure’ he said while you went to bring some movies, ‘you choose, i’ve seen most of these’ you suggested and then you were watching a godard movie, sitting on the comfortable couch 

after a while you were sitting closer, arms almost touching and you spotted them, the needle marks

you didn’t know what to do so you just kept staring and when you looked up at him, his eyes were full with fear like he was a boy caught stealing something

‘mark...’ you managed to say, then you realised you didn’t know what to say. you moved and intertwined your fingers, giving him a squeeze to reassure him it was alright, that he didn’t need to be scared 

‘’m sorry’ he whispered, looking away to avoid your gaze. ‘for what?’ you asked, afraid of the answer. ‘for not being the guy you thought i was’

you looked at your hands, his pale fingers were cold and you wanted to tell him how you felt about him. instead of that you let go of his hand, placed your hand on his shoulder and when he turned to you, you leaned in to kiss him

a mix of coffee and cigarettes, just like you imagined, with something fresh. your other hand found the back of his head, touching his hair carefully

even though he was hesitant at first, he kissed you back. he desperately wanted to do that for weeks and now there you were, embracing him passionately when he felt like a failure 

‘it’s not my place to judge you. i like the mark i see, imperfect but we all are. we’re all struggling’

‘i am clean’ he told you, looking deep into your eyes so you’d know he was telling the truth. ‘that’s why i came here, to stay away from heroin. i... want to stay clean’

‘i know you mean it. god, mark..’

‘kiss me again?’ so that’s what you did, gifting soft kisses to each other until the movie ended

for a while, it went on like this. talking, kissing and laughing together, almost every day. he’d come from work, to your flat and you’d cook together, dance to the songs he loved, watch movies and sharing the most private moments as no one listened to you. you were free and you lived without care, as if you were invisible to the real world

but one morning he stood on your doorway, his face paler than usual and you felt it in your bones that something was wrong

‘it’s... begbie. in my fucking flat. jesus! sitting there like he owns the place’ you took a step back, giving him space to come in. ‘can’t he stay somewhere else?’

‘he’s hiding from the police. fuck, i should’ve known’ you frowned with his words, ‘how could you?’ with that mark felt guilty, never telling you about diane because he was still embarrassed

‘i hate it’ he said, more to himself than you. ‘you know you can always stay here, right?’

‘you don’t have to say this’ 

‘no, i don’t. i’m not saying it because i feel sorry for you, mark. i’m saying it because i’d really like it if you were staying with me. don’t you know how i feel?’

‘but you never said it’ he said quietly but you heard him anyway. ‘that i love you? i thought it was obvious...’ his eyes shined with happiness as he walked to you, ‘you mean it?’

‘don’t be silly. of course, i mean it. i love you’

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 5

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 9.1k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, swearing, mentions of sexual abuse/manipulation, mentions of non-consensual sex - (these are both mentioned very briefly in the chapter and do not center around any of our main characters, but please be cautious if this is a sensitive topic for you!)

*meme voice* ah shit, here we go again.

thank you everyone for your patience regarding this update!! <3 I appreciate you for waiting patiently and for all your love in the meantime! I hope you enjoy ^^

-------

"Please, will you take this vacation?"

You stare at Namjoon, at the desperation written on his face as he begs you to accept his offer, and a war wages within your heart.

On the one hand, you have no good reason to believe him, not after you’d heard him and his members discussing you behind your back like they did. The key could be a fake, his little theory could be a ruse to let your guard down so you won’t put up a fight when he finally sends you packing.

On the other hand, you’ve never had reason to doubt Namjoon up until an hour ago. He seems to have always looked out for you, always appreciated your work. This could be a genuine plea for your cooperation in a bigger picture, like he claims.

But the shadow of doubt still covers you. The sound of him and his boys squabbling so carelessly, taking a vote on your future. You can’t let that memory go so easily.

“Never trust your client. They will only betray you in the end.” The words of Madame run through your mind again, as if confirming your fears.

You want to believe Namjoon. But you need to protect yourself before anything else.

You slowly break away from his grasp, taking the key and tucking it into a pocket on your belt. “Kim Namjoon...” you say, your eyes cast downwards.

He seems more relaxed now that you’ve taken his peace offering, and he tilts his head to the side, listening intently. “Yes?”

Your brain claws desperately at a strategy, at anything you could use as leverage. But all you have are words. What can you say? What protection do you have left? You’re putting yourself at his mercy.

“During my time in this house... I have learned many things about you and your members. Things I don’t think you want the public to find out about.”  Lies. He knows it. You know it. The only secrets you know are their kinks, which aren’t exactly damning to their characters. Even if you did have dirt on them, who would listen to you? 

You continue, though your voice sounds uncertain, even to your own ears. “If you’re lying to me about any of this, then I swear...  I’ll do what I have to, and... ensure that you pay for your mistake.” You try to imbue strength and determination into your words, but your heart isn’t in it, and you’re sure he can tell. You can’t even meet his eyes. You have no fight left in you. You’re like a frightened animal that’s been backed into a corner.

Fuck. You’re just so tired of this, of everything. You’ve been through too much recently with not even a moment to catch your breath, and you’re just… exhausted. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve done your best, you’ve gone down swinging. But you can’t do it anymore, it’s all too much...

You feel numb as Namjoon wraps you into his arms. When did he come over to your side of the table? You don’t remember, you can’t think clearly.

“It’s okay.” Namjoon’s breath is warm against your cheek. “You can rest now.”

Can he read your mind? You must look so pathetic, your body shaking as he holds you tightly, like you might float away.

But right now, you don’t care. He’s seen you at your worst already. You choke on a quiet sob and your fingers twitch, longing to reach up and hold him, to reciprocate...

“Alright, has everything been sorted?” Yeji’s arrival carries away those ideas, and Namjoon pulls away from you with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

“I believe it has,” he says, and he stands up to greet her as the two of them start to wrap up the details of your agreement. Their words turn to buzzing as the rest of the meeting passes by in a blur. You're too dazed to pay attention, too numb to feel anything but a vague sense of resignation as papers are signed, handshakes are given, and your fate is placed in his hands.

Before you know it, you’re back up in your room again. Whatever farewell that Namjoon had probably wished you as you shut the door had fallen on deaf ears. You can’t process anything more right now.

-------

The first few hours of your sentence pass by in silence, tears slowly trickling down your face as you lay on your bed. Your brain slowly works through its state of catastrophe. Dimly, you worry that you might never pick up all the pieces. Some have blown away in the recent whirlwind of disaster, some are stained, irreparable, all of them worn from being taped and glued back together, over and over again.

You feel broken.

Is this what they wanted? To break you?

You roll over onto your other side, uselessly wiping the tears from your face as fresh ones spring to your eyes to replace them.

You know, somewhere inside yourself, that you can’t just sit here and throw a pity party all week. But damn it, it’s been a while.

You just need a little time. Soon, you’ll be back on your feet, you tell yourself. You’ll bounce back, just like always. You’ve never failed before.

But what if you do? What if you fail yourself, fail the boys? Fail your family, yet again? You want to curl up and never move for the rest of your life. The craggy void of failure at your feet has you nearly paralyzed, afraid to misstep. Afraid to get that last strike and finally be sent home.

You groan. You’re so exhausted and frustrated of picking yourself apart like this. There's no point in agonizing over what ifs.

You’re here. You’ve arrived at rock bottom. Now the question is where to go?

It feels eerily calm as you sit up in bed and survey your surroundings. No noise pierces the utter stillness of your bedroom apart from your own breathing. It’s stifling.

By now, it has to have been at least a full day since you came upstairs, right? You feel like you’ve been laying on this bed for ages. You grab your ComGear to check the time, and whimper in despair.

It’s only noon. About two hours since the meeting.

After another brief bout of agony at this revelation, you take a second look at the screen and are surprised to see over a hundred notifications. You expect it to be due to the group chat, but a fair amount of them are actually from your clients. You don’t bother to open each conversation, but merely look over their previews - the most recent messages they sent you.

[   Kim Seokjin   ]: please try to get some rest, alright? [  Jung Hoseok  ]: I’m sorry… truly. please enjoy your time off. [     Park Jimin    ]: just let me know! ^^; [  Kim Namjoon  ]: Promise. [    Min Yoongi    ]: you know where to find me [  Kim Taehyung ]: enjoy your vacation, jagiya~ ♡ [ Jeon Jungkook ]: are you coming down for lunch?

All of them messaged you, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. It hurts to see them pretend like everything’s fine and see if that makes it better somehow. It looks like most of them didn’t even try to apologize for what they did to you. Maybe you really aren’t that important to them after all.

Could they see through your attempts to befriend them all this time? Did all of their kindness to you mean nothing? Is that how they treat all of their employees?

You feel tears threatening again, and you wish you had a friend to talk to about all this.

Then it occurs to you that maybe… you do.

You flick over to the group chat, where you see that the other PhysComs are now talking about some webtoon and sending memes to each other. You tap on Sascha’s profile again. The same page greets you, the same blank profile picture and call button as before.

Yeji had said that the chat was real. If that's true, then the people in it must be who they claim they are, right? You do trust Yeji’s word, but you need to find out for yourself. You’ll never be able to fully accept this undercover group chat as a reliable resource until you know for sure.

Hey, if you’re suspended anyway, what’s the harm right? What are they going to do, fire you?

You bark out a sob of a laugh, and your finger hits the button before you can stop yourself. Yes, this might be a bad idea, and yes, you shouldn’t risk putting yourself out there on the hope that it’ll connect you to a friend, but you need to know the truth. You’ll feel better if you know that there’s still someone in this world that truly understands you.

It rings. And rings.

As the ominous buzzing stretches on through the silence, your worry starts to return. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. If the chat room is somehow compromised, you might have just given yourself away, someone high up in the industry could be tracking your location at this very moment from your cell signal or something, or maybe-

“Hello?” Sascha’s voice rings clear as a bell through the phone, and you almost start crying right then and there with relief.

“Sascha?” You can barely utter her name as all your memories of training together hit you like a sucker punch in your already fragile state.

“Oh! Hey, sweetie! How’s it going?” she replies in her chipper way, a smile in her tone.

“... It’s really you,” you whisper, pressing your fist to your pursed lips to keep your emotions at bay. “Sasch.”

“Of course it’s me, silly goose.” Her laugh is bright and airy, just like you remember it. “Who else would it be?”

You wait a beat, scouring your mind for a test to prove your paranoia wrong, just in case. “What… what did I give to you on our last day together?” You ask imperatively, waiting with bated breath for her answer.

It was not something either of you would easily forget, though most people probably would. It’s also the best test you can think of, as anyone else would assume such an important day would go hand in hand with a meaningful keepsake or an important gift.

“A sandwich,” she laughs. “Pastrami and mustard on rye. You shared it with me to celebrate reaching our target weight that month. Though you never let me pay you back. I would have preferred ham, you know.”

Your shoulders visibly relax. It’s Sascha, all right. Compliments and complaints in the same breath. It’s as if hearing her voice, hearing the confirmation that it’s really her, turns on a faucet inside you that had long since dried up.

“Sascha… so much has happened.”

You didn’t fully realize how lonely and isolated you’ve been until this very moment, now that you have some true company. Your story comes spilling out, every sordid detail, and Sascha listens attentively to what you have to say, just like she used to during your training days.

“So, now I’m in my room, and… I don’t even know how I’m going to get through today, let alone a whole week,” you confess, hugging your stuffed rabbit to your chest.

“Let me get this straight.” A while into the call, you’d switched to video chat, and Sascha appears to be doing some yoga stretches while catching up with you. “You have seven men in that house, all of whom you’re supposed to pleasure sexually, and they’re giving you a paid break from pleasuring them?”

You nod. “Awful, isn’t it?”

Sascha’s face twists. “You know, I think you may be viewing this all wrong.”

Your brows furrow. “Excuse me?”

“Hear me out for a second,” she continues, now angling her warrior pose so she’s facing her camera. “When was the last time you had a real break?” She quirks an eyebrow, dipping out of frame to switch poses, her blonde hair spilling over one shoulder in a loose braid. “One where you didn’t even think about work?”

You stare blankly at the camera. You’ve had no such days. You’re always looking to improve yourself to maintain your high marks. “Um…”

Sascha laughs and flashes you a fond smile. “You were the same way in training. You know how many days a week I work?”

You feel shame start to curl in your gut. “How many?”

“Three,” she replies. “And the reason why is because we have like six Primary PCs here at the dorm.” She blows a stray lock of hair out of her face. “There are thirteen boys to satisfy at any given moment, so we each only tackle two to three at a time, and our coverage is considered thin! Most groups have at least one Primary per client.” She reaches down to touch her toes, her ass shimmying in the air, and you snort. “And that’s not even counting our Secondaries! We're practically a fucking harem over here!”

You sigh, chewing on your lip crankily. “What’s your point?”

She pokes her head up to shoot you an equally cranky glare. “Remind me, how many boys do you tackle?”

“Seven,” you mumble. You know what she’s getting at, but it’s something you don’t want to admit, even to yourself. Maybe… objectively… you do need a break, even if you don’t want one. Maybe you’ve been overworking yourself, biting off - or in this case, perhaps swallowing - more than you can chew.

“Right! That’s half the amount of our clients. Doing the math, you should have at least three Primaries there, but it’s just you.” You see Sascha’s leg rise up behind her in some sort of bizarre stretch, and her voice sounds strained with the effort of holding the pose. “I’m not saying you can’t handle it, babes. I’m just saying that... you do a lot for them. Maybe this will be good for you.”

Hearing someone put it so rationally makes you feel like maybe you’ve been overreacting. Namjoon did tell Yeji he wants to keep you, but it all still seems... off, somehow.

“What about the whole vote thing? And Namjoon’s deal?” You bring up your last few defenses at her argument, your hand resting subconsciously on the pocket of your belt containing the key to his studio.

“Oh no, that’s all highly suspicious.” Sascha blows a lock of hair out of her face as she comes back up and lifts her arms over her head. “But what’s happened has already happened. So I think you should make the best of it, and take this time to rejuvenate yourself. Just keep an eye out, and if those bastards try anything, you send them to me.”

You laugh. “Rejuvenate? How am I supposed to do that?” You roll your eyes at her playfully. “Yoga?”

Sascha props a hand on her hip. “Don’t joke. Yoga is a very valid form of rejuvenation.”

You giggle at her stoicism and she cracks a smile too before continuing. “But seriously, honey! It breaks my heart that you’ve been working so hard, you don’t even remember how to have fun. Come on, what did you do in your training days to relax?”

You think back and try to remember. Most of your memories from training are a blur of hard work, endless studying and practice. You’re about to confess that you really have no idea, when a single memory breaks to the surface, and like a dam, it releases a flood of other times you’d taken breaks. Sneaking out to get snacks, late night adventures, stargazing on the rooftop, all of the rare little pockets of time that you could call your own, and they all had one connecting factor.

“Music,” you breathe, feeling like you just stepped out of a time warp. “Listening to music, really, really loudly.”

Sascha laughs, a proud smile adorning her dimpled cheeks. “I think you know how to kick off your vacation, then.”

You find yourself grinning, too. “Thanks, Sasch.” You feel like maybe you should stay on the line a bit longer. You two really have some catching up to do, even though once you’d started talking, it had felt like no time had passed since you’d last seen her.

But Sascha makes your decision for you, blowing you a kiss. “There are tons of music streaming apps. Go crazy. And call me if you need anything, okay?”

The simple act of her being supportive of your wellbeing has you feeling overwhelmed all over again, but this time, it’s not from emotional distress. “Thanks, Sascha. Same to you.”

You’re about to end the call when you hear a door open on Sascha’s end of the line. She looks off camera and a smile pops up on her face. “Antione, come over here!” She yells, running off screen and returning a moment later, dragging a boy behind her, who seems to be grumbling in protest of her manhandling. “Antione, say hi! This is Antione from the group chat.”

The guy seems more than a little ticked off at Sascha, but when he catches sight of you on the screen, his mouth falls open.

“Oh… hello.” He flashes a smile, and his icy blue eyes are now filled with wonderment. “You’re the Primary for BTS?”

“Hi,” You wave a little awkwardly. “Yup, that’s me.” You can’t help noticing how strikingly similar he and Sascha look. With those crystal eyes and buttery blonde hair, you could mistake them for twins, the only difference being Antione’s thinly framed glasses next to Sascha’s 20/20 vision. But you suppose he wouldn’t really need glasses to have sex, they’d surely get knocked around or broken if he left them on. He probably wears contacts for work.

In fact, his similar appearance to his coworker can’t be a coincidence, especially if they’re both Primaries for their clients, and it leads you to believe that perhaps all of their Primaries bear a resemblance to each other, so that any combination of fuck dolls could be considered a set. From this, you suspect that their clients may be into incestuous role play, or perhaps they like the idea of fucking someone’s “sibling”.

Not concrete evidence, but it’s not a far reach. You’ve seen plenty of stranger kinks.

You’ll have to ask Sascha about it on your next call with her, as you’re sure she’ll ask you more about what things your clients usually request of you. With one girl among seven men, she might presume that they enjoy gangbanging you.

She wouldn’t be wrong, of course.

Kink talk was a common pastime among your peers during your training. You all had been trained to analyze a person, what makes them tick, and how it’s related to their psyche. It had always fascinated you from an academic standpoint, even though some of your fellow trainees would prefer hearing about the dirtiest cases, regardless of the psychological factors that went into it.

“Is all going well? You feeling any better about all this?” Antione’s kind voice tears you out of your thoughts, and you give him a brief, grateful smile.

“I’m getting there,” you reply. “Thank you for all your help. It’s been… a lot to take in, and I’m glad that you recognized that, and helped me ease into it.”

“Not a problem. I’ve been in that position before, and it takes some adjusting, for sure,” he replies.

“That’s what she said.” Sascha snickers. “Alright, stop flirting, you two!” She shoves Antione offscreen, and the boy yelps at once again being pushed around. “Call me if you need me, babes! Have fun! Bye!”

Sascha reaches over and ends the call, and you’re once more on your own. But you don’t feel as isolated as before.

As long as you have your ComGear, you’ll never be alone again.

The thought makes you feel warm inside, though you scold yourself for being so sentimental. You need to recharge, or how did Sascha put it? Rejuvenate.

It doesn’t take long for you to find a decent music streaming app, though it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the buzzing as your clients keep messaging you. You realize that the notifications might interrupt your music once it starts playing, so you reluctantly open all their chat threads, only to mute them.

There. Now it won’t buzz anymore. They shouldn’t care if you left them on read. They want you to rest, right? You huff derisively and start searching the vast music library, trying to recall what you used to listen to back in the day to pump yourself up.

It dawns on you while you browse that you haven’t listened to any music for the past six months, apart from whatever the boys are rehearsing at any given time. The sound always reaches you whenever they practice, even if they’re rooms away. Though their songs aren’t too bad, they’re still not something you had chosen to listen to.

You hadn’t taken any time to be yourself, since you were so busy trying to be what they want from you.

You feel a vague sort of sadness when you think about it like that, imagining it happening to someone else, but you’re too subjective of the situation to really feel sad for yourself. You hadn’t take time for yourself, however you still climbed the ranks, earned their favor, became their only Primary. You’d achieved your goals.

But at what cost, asks a little voice in your head. What did you lose to win your dream job?

And are you even happy with it? Or is it just the satisfaction that you crave? The satisfaction that you would feel after achieving any other goal? The satisfaction of a job well done?

You shake your head. Whoa there. Too deep.

This is the most mental airspace you’ve had in forever, and it’s starting to show.

You don’t waste any more time trying to remember your old favorites, and instead tap on a “Hot 100 Hits” playlist. It’ll be interesting to see what people are listening to now. Maybe you’ll find some new favorites.

Sure enough, the first song that comes on is a pop rock tune, with a catchy beat and heavy drums. It makes you bob your head and you feel a surge of instant regret at not making more time for music. You’d forgotten how it can take you somewhere else, clear your mind and help you forget all your worries in a way that sex never can.

You’re a bit jarred when the lyrics kick in, though. They don’t rhyme at all, and they seem a little… stilted, like a robot is trying to sing. Damn, is this what kids are listening to these days? You knew that those singing hologram voice programs used to be a thing, but this seems almost unintentional.

You check the screen and sure enough, it’s a Korean title staring back up at you.

Your auditory auto-translation chip is changing the song into verbatim English.

You start to laugh. The unintended consequence strikes you as ridiculous. It seems that reminders of your job are everywhere.

With a sigh of exasperation, you head into the settings of your ComGear and access the language screen. You turn off the auditory auto-translation, and the song reverts back to the original lyrics, which are much easier on the ears.

Now that that’s taken care of, you turn the music on full blast and stand up.

Alright. Music, check. Now... how to leisure?

You look around and assess your room. It’s relatively tidy, and cleaning it won’t take more than ten minutes. You could work out, you have plenty of equipment. But that’s what you usually do on your days off. Improve yourself for work the next day.

What would Sascha say? Maybe… guilty pleasures? You put your mind to coming up with the most self-indulgent thing you can imagine.

Of course, you immediately think of chocolate.

But you’re not really hungry. To be honest, your stomach is still a little knotted up from the meeting.

Maybe not that kind of self-indulgence. You’ll just feel guilty afterwards. Maybe… maybe something pointless. Something that’s fun just for the sake of being fun.

You whirl around and take a long look at your bed as the music sweeps into the chorus.

Fuck, why not? Who’s going to stop you?

You climb onto the mattress and start jumping. You feel pretty silly at first, but the longer you jump, the lighter your worries feel. It’s as if you’re leaving them in the air with every bounce. The music blasts from your night table and you get a little bolder with your jumps, really putting power into them.

You’re lucky you have high ceilings, as you go higher and higher, you could swear you’re flying. You start to laugh, throwing some twirls into your leaps, and as the music blares, you sing along, off-key and with nonsensical phonetic lyrics.

Your cheeks hurt by the end of the song, and you’re out of breath, giggles falling from your lips as you finally jump down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

When was the last time you jumped on the bed like this? Must have been when you were young, with your sister.

You feel the same dull ache you always feel when you think of her, though you normally make it a point not to do so. The memory must have slipped past your defenses while you were enjoying yourself.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t hear the insistent pounding at your door, the music and thick walls muffling the sound. You had mistaken the noise for part of the lyrics, as they sounded like gibberish to you. But finally you noticed the person trying to get your attention, and you hurry over to the door as they continue to speak in tongues.

“Neo geogi an-e issni? Yah, mun-eul yeol-eola.”

You pull open the door and are met with the unreadable face of Min Yoongi.

“Gwaenchanh-a? Jeonhwaleul an bad-eusyeossneyo.” He continues to drawl in gibberish, and you merely stare at him, immensely confused.

It clicks for you a moment later, and you hold up a finger to him. “Um, hana… uh, shit, one sec.”

He gives you an equally confused look, and you hasten back to your ComGear to turn the auto-translate back on as well as pause the music. “There, that should do it.” You turn around to see him peering curiously at you.

“You were speaking English,” he says it halfway between a question and a statement. He must be used to hearing you speaking auto-translated Korean, just like you’re used to hearing his words in English.

“Yeah... I forgot to turn my translator back on.” You explain halfheartedly, your shields already locking back into their familiar place. It was a nice, if brief, moment of total freedom, just jumping around to music, but the carefree bubble has popped, and you're once more faced with reality.

Yoongi's eyebrow raises at the mention of the technology, but he merely shrugs a shoulder.

A few awkward moments of silence pass before you realize that he isn't going to explain himself on his own. Something about that, about the expectation for you to move things along, has your hackles raised in irritation.

Just like always, he's expecting you to do all the work.

"Did you need something?" You try to stay professional, even now, but you can't keep the edge out of your voice. All traces of your previous enjoyment have shriveled up and vanished in the face of the man who told your other clients that you were something replaceable.

He prods his cheek with his tongue, his face mask shifting from where it rests below his lips. "You weren't answering your phone," he says by way of an answer.

You stare at him, already growing weary of this interaction. Does he expect you to be as accessible as you were before? You don't plan on contacting any of them if you can help it, at least, not for right now.

Wait, did Namjoon tell them what happened? He must have. But if he didn't, then maybe that's why Yoongi is here. There’s no point in having any more misunderstandings; you have to make the situation clear.

"I'm suspended." Your voice grows quiet, and you look off into the hallway, shame coloring your cheeks. You know you shouldn't be, but you still feel a sting from vocalising your current demotion.

Yoongi gives a hum of affirmation, confirming that he already knew, as his eyes roam over your body. "Forbidden fruit..."

You tense, your body reacting involuntarily to his offhand comment as heat rushes to your core. Your most primal senses want him to give into the temptation and pin you against the wall... No, snap out of it. You’re still mad at him, no matter how attractive he may be.

But thankfully the moment of tension passes just as quickly, and his gaze returns to your face. "It’s a shame I already ate, unlike some people.” A flicker of humor in his eyes. “Here."

He hands you a paper bag, with a takeout logo on the front. You can't do anything but stare at it. It seems that your processors are still down for maintenance.

“You didn’t have breakfast.” Yoongi finally says, after it becomes clear you aren’t saying anything. “You’ve been up here since the meeting.”

It finally dawns on you, though the logical conclusion seems hard to believe. “You were… concerned about me?”

He tugs the face mask up over his mouth, concealing most of his expression. “Jungkook,” he corrects you with a slight cough. “He sent me up here. Poor kid was worried sick about you.”

You hesitate to take the food, even though your stomach is curling with hunger. Is this an attempted peace offering? Does he think this will make things better?

Before you can question his motives, he sighs and shoves the bag towards you. “Take it. You still have to eat, you know.”

You’re tired of fighting, and take the path of least resistance by accepting the bag. “Thanks,” you say, half-hoping that this will be the end of it and he’ll just leave. But the other half still holds the whimsical notion that he actually cared enough to check up on you.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shrugs again, looking off to the side.

You'd only ever known Min Yoongi as a salacious dom, stuffing you full and showering you in filthy praises. It feels surreal to be standing here now, holding a normal conversation.

After another moment, it becomes clear that his business here isn’t finished, and quite frankly, you’re getting impatient. “Is there anything else?”

At this, he seems to remember his reason for coming. “Ah, yeah. Can I come in?”

Into your room? You blink in dismay, the answer should be obvious to him. “No.”

You think you can see his mouth lift into a smile beneath the mask. “Good. That’s the spirit.” He gives a slight nod, as if appraising your disobedience.

You aren’t sure if this is normal behavior for him, as you’ve barely spoken to him out of character. You know probing him about it will only drag out this interaction, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “What… what are you talking about?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m just glad to see that you have some backbone. You’re usually so willing to follow orders.”

You bristle at this. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. It would have looked like a challenge if it had been more deliberate, but the way Yoongi carries himself is effortlessly casual and careless. "He gave you his key, right?"

It takes you a moment to discern that he’s talking about Namjoon. You nod once, and he scoffs.

"I knew he would. Poetic bastard." Yoongi sighs, then fixes his gaze to you once more. “That means I have to share my studio with him until all this is fixed.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance.

You aren’t sure how to reply, or if he’s even looking for one. If he wants an apology from you, he’s out of luck. Namjoon’s questionable decisions are not your fault.

But he doesn’t wait for any words from you, and instead turns around to go back downstairs. “Anyway, enjoy your break.”

“Wait.” You aren’t sure why you stop him. Maybe because he doesn’t seem like the type to bullshit you. “Min Yoongi.”

He pauses and looks over his shoulder at the sound of his name, an indiscernible expression in his eyes.

Your resolve turns to steel, using the last ounce of your strength to try and get some answers. “Tell me what’s going on. Why is he doing this?”

Yoongi glances up to the ceiling as though thinking of what to say.

His next words do not inspire confidence.

“I have no fucking idea.”

Your shoulders slump down a fraction. You aren’t sure you believe him, but it’s too much effort to hope for anything beyond his word. You can’t handle any more disappointment right now.

Yoongi scratches the side of his temple and gives a weary sigh. “If I could look inside his mind, then maybe I’d have a clue...” He stares at you intently, and his gaze trails down over your body again. You resist the urge to cover yourself, though now you realize you don’t have to resist. Your body doesn’t belong to him right now, and it won’t for the next several days.

Your arms cross themselves protectively over your chest, testing the waters of your newfound independence. “My eyes are up here, byeongsin.”

His eyes widen a fraction at your cheek. He tugs the face mask down below his chin again, a bewildered smile twitching onto his face, no doubt surprised to hear you cursing him out in Korean. “Who taught you that?”

“Taehyung.” You smirk, proud of yourself for catching him off guard for once. You remember when Tae had told you how surreal it sounded to hear you swearing in his language.

“Doesn’t it sound the same?” You ask him, confusion furrowing your brow. “The translator…”

Taehyung shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear and practically bouncing from excitement. “It sounds different! Like… like you have an accent,” he giggles. “Say it again.”

“Shibal.” You repeat the word hesitantly, the syllables feeling strange on your tongue. Mouth shapes for Korean are so different compared to English.

Taehyung bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching his sides as he rolls onto his back. You whack him with a couch cushion. “That’s not fair! You already know all the English profanities.”

Tae’s eyes dance with laughter as he sits back up. “All thanks to Namjoon-hyung. Shit, bastard, damn it to hell, and of course...” He sticks out his tongue, running it over his lips. “Fuck you.”

There’s a flutter in your stomach from the look he’s giving you. You snort and whack him with the pillow again. “Yup, you got all the highlights.”

His hand slides over your thigh. You meet his gaze, that flutter returning as you see the lust swirling like smoke in his pupils. “Jagiya...” His hand grazes farther up your thigh. “I want to fuck you.”

Things had obviously escalated after that, and you might have gotten lost in the memories if Yoongi hadn’t let out a low chuckle, bringing you back to the moment. “Wow. What else did he teach you?”

You grin, about to let loose a string of foul language, but he holds up a hand before you can, waving off whatever you’re about to say. “Nah, forget it. Leave it a surprise.”

“I’m full of them, you know.” You can’t help feeling a little proud.

“I know.” He stares at you for another moment before turning and heading downstairs. “Make sure to eat,” he calls over his shoulder, and soon enough his footsteps fade away.

A warm feeling fills your chest in his absence, and you can’t quite explain why. His last words prove that he must care about you a little, even if he doesn’t try to show it. The Yoongi you just spoke with feels like a completely different person than the one you overheard in the kitchen. Different even than the one at dinner, who suggested Seokjin should use another slut in your absence.

The memory taints the feeling of warmth, and you sigh. Why are things so fucking complicated?

You head back into your room and devour the takeout with less grace than would be expected for a seductress such as yourself, and mindlessly scroll through your ComGear, which is now more of a standard cellphone, exploring all the newly accessible features.

You’ve missed a lot of news, both locally and globally. Celebrity gossip. Politics. Entertainment.

Wait, whoa. What?

New Witness “B” Comes Forward About Sexual Manipulation in the K-Pop Industry

Sorry, what?

You click the article, your mind reeling with morbid fascination. Why would there still be any “manipulation” now that groups are given PhysComs? Why would they need any other sexual outlet, when they’re given vessels that are willing to serve?

  Our witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, has independently corroborated with Witness A’s story. “B” has told us that, like “A”, they weren’t given a choice when it came to filming private sessions with their clients.

  “[Group] told me that it was my job. That it was what I was there for. But they filmed me without my consent. They posted the videos online and made money from it. It’s not right. I got out, but there are still others like me who need help. It shouldn’t matter that sex work is against the law. What these people are doing, taking advantage of us… it should be just as illegal. We need a voice, too.”

  You may recall that Witness A’s shocking story from earlier this month sparked rumors about illegal sexual companions being provided to entertainment companies, a practice which up until now had been considered hearsay.

  However, with this new testimony, it seems that “A” may have had some truth to their story. We tried to contact [Group]’s agency, but they were unavailable for comment.

Holy shit… you had no idea any of this was happening. Thinking on it, it stands to reason that not every PhysCom is treated equally, given the vast multitude of people who have access to them. But where are these PhysComs’ handlers? Why aren’t their networks helping them?

You find polarizing comments beneath the article, most angry that the companies would allow the sex work to take place, very few praising B’s decision to speak out, and some disbelieving that PhysComs even exist. There are also a few very lengthy comments that catch your eye, demonizing the witnesses and making threats towards other companies, should the commenter’s “oppas” be caught in this scandal, too.

You feel uneasy as you click away from the article. The rest of the takeout is put away in your mini fridge, your appetite gone as you try to make sense of things.

That article gives you the feeling that something is happening, not just here in this house, but in the world. Like floating pieces of a magnetic puzzle, you know they’ll all come together somehow, eventually, but you still can’t see the big picture.

You send the article to the group chat, and they confirm that they’ve seen it.

[ PCsv02_svt  ]: scary, right? TT-TT [ PCsv02_svt  ]: I don’t know what I’d do if I were them, poor thing [ PCsv03_twc ]: they should’ve gone to the police [ PCsv04_blp  ]: why did they wait until now to come forward? [ PCsv03_twc ]: if my clients ever treated me badly I would have done something [ PCsv09_$px ]: it’s not always that simple [ PCsv01_svt  ]: yes consider the repercussions… [ PCsv01_svt  ]: an illegal sex worker reporting nonconsensual sex? [ PCsv01_svt  ]: that’s like a robber reporting another robbery

You mull over this as you let them debate the topic. You imagine what it must be like to be in that position, taken advantage of by your clients… you shiver at the cold injustice of it.

There is a certain degree of trust that's employed in any kind of sex work. You're still offering intimacy in some form, which can't be fully given without trust. It must be utterly horrific to see that trust broken and be unable to stop it.

You want to help these people somehow, but right now you need to help yourself. One sea of turmoil at a time.

You click out of the chat and switch to each conversation with your clients, copy and pasting the same message to each of them.

Please don't contact me for the rest of the day. I need time alone.

Since you're suspended, you figure they can't punish you for making yourself unavailable. Though it pains you to think of them relying on the other PhysComs at their disposal. Seokjin already has. You forcibly push away the thoughts every time they bounce against your mind.

With the boys out of the way, you assess your options. You need more information about what the hell is happening, and the most likely place you'll find it is obvious. What did Yoongi say? If he could look inside Namjoon's mind… then he'd have an idea.

You happen to have the key to his mind right in your belt.

-------

It's surprisingly difficult to sneak out of the house without alerting anyone. You left your door locked and music blaring. Between that and the text you sent, you thought leaving from your window would be a piece of cake.

You neglected to account for the height.

Your room is on the third story, too far to jump without damaging yourself. Thankfully, you've seen enough movies to have the idea of fashioning a rope out of extra bed sheets. Unfortunately, bed sheets are not the best rope material. Too slippery.

You mull over what to do for a few moments, and you laugh out loud when you realize that the solution is absurdly simple. Hello? You have literal ropes in among your sex toys. Even better, they're designed not to give the user rope burn, while still knotting like a dream.

It doesn't take long to shimmy down from your window to ground level, and you stash the end of the rope behind some bushes, planning to use it later to return to your forbidden tower.

Disguised in a hoodie, you feel like a spy in an action movie, or a runaway princess, and the thought makes you giggle as you make your way towards the nearest subway station.

It's been too long since you've ventured out of the house. You had nearly forgotten how invigorating the bustle of the city could be. You feel like you’re breathing fresh air for the first time in ages, though the pollution in the distant sky would say otherwise.

It only takes a quick search on your jailbroken ComGear to find the address of the building where Namjoon's studio is located. BigHit Entertainment.

You'll have to be careful not to encounter the others. They probably frequent their record label, and the last thing you need is to bump into one of them. You would have no explanation for yourself as to why you're here. You'd rather avoid the questions.

Unfortunately, it proves harder than you’d think to get into the building. A fingerprint ID scanner meets you just inside the auxiliary door.

Fuck. It’s too much to hope that they have your prints in their database, right? You place your thumb over the scanner, and it buzzes, the sensor light turning red. No go.

Well shit, what are you supposed to do now? You’ve come all this way, and you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Namjoon’s stupid key.

Wait, why the hell did he give you the key if he knew you couldn’t get into the building? Bastard. You groan and kick at the base of the door. You try your prints again, but none of your fingers grant you access, the scanner buzzing mockingly with each failed attempt.

You’re about to give up when you hear a voice behind you. “Here, let me.”

You swivel around and see Jeon Jungkook place his thumb on the scanner, a to-go cup in his hand and a duffle bag on his shoulder. The light turns green and the door whooshes aside to let him in. The lift in his brows tells you he recognizes you through your flimsy disguise, but he merely gestures for you to go ahead. You sheepishly walk through, knowing better than to question this stroke of good fortune.

Or bad fortune, as it turns out.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook asks quietly, once you two are inside the sleek lobby. "You said you wanted to be left alone."

"I did," you confirm huffily, still embarrassed about your struggle to get inside the building. "I do."

"Then... why are you here?" He takes a look around the lobby, where a handful of people are milling about. “It’s not really a good place for being alone.”

You chew your lip. This is the most Jungkook has ever spoken to you. You consider coming up with a story, but it occurs to you that you don't actually know where Namjoon's studio is located inside the building. You’ll need a guide.

"Namjoon said I could use his studio," you explain, deciding to include as few details as possible about your reasons for being here.

"For what?" His brow furrows.

Why all the questions? You’ve always thought of Jungkook as timid, more the type to stay out of the way if someone is up to something, rather than grilling them. But for all you know, maybe he gets assertive in the workplace. It doesn’t matter. You have bigger concerns right now. "To release my first single, obviously,” you snark, crossing your arms. "Look, I’m here for research, okay? You can either help me, or stay out of my way."

His eyes widen. He's never heard you speak to him as yourself, let alone this brazenly. But to your surprise, he nods. “Okay. What can I do to help?”

Well, damn. You didn’t think he would actually agree. It could be that he wants to report what you do to the other boys, acting like a spy. But you’re only here because Namjoon gave you that key. He can’t fault you for using the collateral that he gave you, right?

Fuck it, you’re tired of second guessing. Now is the time for action. Fuck the consequences.

“Where’s Namjoon’s studio?” You ask him, an edge in your voice. “Show me.”

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment, and then nods. He looks wary, almost nervous, and you have to wonder why. Even with your confidant demands, he still has the power in this situation, as always. You’re a nobody who couldn’t even get in the door without his help, and he actually works here. He could have you thrown out, if he wanted.

The thought sends a bolt of worry right to your chest, and you decide to do everything you can to not remind him of that fact.

After a strangely tense elevator ride, Jungkook silently leads you down several corridors until you come across a frosted glass door.

“Here,” he says, gesturing towards the door.

“This is it?” You ask to confirm, and he nods.

You take a deep breath and retrieve the key from your belt. His eyes widen as you slot the key into the lock, and with a gentle twist, the handle turns.

“Where-” Jungkook’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and you turn around to shush him.

“It was a gift,” you explain icily. “Now, if you’re going to help me, then stay right here and make sure no one comes in, got it?”

His lips purse in suspicion and his eyes narrow, but he nods. “Fine.”

Satisfied, you turn back to the door, and it’s only then that you notice the keypad beneath the lock. Clearly the silver key Namjoon gave you isn’t the only way into his studio, as he had previously implied. Some collateral.

More and more doubts fill your thoughts, but you have no energy left to hesitate as you carefully pull the door open and slip inside their leader’s forbidden sanctuary.

-------

It’s much smaller than you thought. Really, only the size of your walk-in closet.

The silence in the room is palpable, the only noise stemming from the gentle purr of electronics. Your gaze gets stuck on all the collectibles he has on display, all around the room, in glass cases and on shelves. Mickey Mouse bodies, with skulls and crossbones for heads. Everything is black, white, and shades of gray.

They make up the only distraction in the room, but they’re everywhere.

You then notice the only clear surface, or relatively clear, as his desk, opposite the door. A grand computer screen sits front and center, with various equipment stacked around it, and a piano keyboard on a tray beneath the glass desktop.

You hasten across the carpeting, and gingerly pull out his desk chair, plush leather with a high back, ergonomically designed.

It feels like a siren will go off at any moment. You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re intruding.

But you need answers. He gave you the key.

You shake off your sense of foreboding and sit down, swiveling yourself into place. A quick shake of the mouse wakes up his computer.

Fuck.

You need a password. Of course. Nothing in your life can be simple.

After a few moments of muttering and seething in frustration, you try to calm down. Okay, so maybe this won’t be an in and out procedure, maybe this will take a little more thought.

Okay, think, think… what would he use for his password?

“It’s ‘monimoni0613’.”

The voice scares you shitless, and you swivel around to see Jungkook poking his head in the door. He gives you a half smile. “And that’s in Korean. You want help?”

You clutch your chest. “Fuck, don’t scare me like that!” You snap at him, though he doesn’t seem particularly intimidated. How does Namjoon even work with his back to the door like this? You’d be constantly looking over your shoulder. Is he really that trusting of people?

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your answer and comes inside, letting the door fall gently shut behind him. “It’s after his dog,” he says, leaning over you to access the keyboard and quickly type in the password. He smells like shampoo.

Your heart picks up the pace as he hovers over you, his eyes trained on the screen. He’s only inches away from you, his necklace dangles in front of your face in a way that you should not find tantalizing.

“His dog’s name is Moni?” You ask, trying to tell your heart to kindly get a grip. You’re on a mission, no time for horniness.

“Well, ah… yeah. Let’s go with that.” Jungkook makes a slight noise of triumph as the computer unlocks, Namjoon's desktop wallpaper greeting you - yet another skull-headed Mickey.

"Wait, how do you know his password?" You can't help but ask. After the ordeal you went through just to get to his inner sanctum, this feels too easy.

"He lets me use his computer sometimes, for gaming, and stuff…" the boy trails off, looking elsewhere as though embarrassed.

"Okay…" You stare at him. "Thanks for helping."

"You're welcome."

There's an awkward silence.

"Go wait outside." You say.

"Yup." He ducks back out of the room, leaving you to your investigating once more.

You exhale once you're alone again. Okay, where to start? You scan his desktop, but the icons are surprisingly neat. A few programs, a few shortcuts, a few folders, all of which prove fruitless.

The folders contain music program files of what appear to be songs still in the works. Although interesting, not really what you're looking for.

Jesus, how could he trust you with all this? You could leak these to the public. You could sell them, and never have to worry about job security again...

He must be fucking desperate to put his entire career in your hands.

Just like your career currently rests in his own.

You shake off the idea of selling the insider information. Although tempting, right now all you really want is answers as to why the fuck he's doing any of this in the first place. Why did he suspend you? Why did things stop? You had a spotless record up until last night, so… what changed?

You check his recent files next, and happen to find exactly what you're looking for.

Theory - draft for proposal

Seems like a solid lead.

You click the link, and a word document opens up. Unfortunately in Korean.

Of course. Of course he would write in his native language, and of course, it’s only your ComGear that translates messages from the boys, you don’t have bionic vision. There are a few random English words scattered here and there, but not nearly enough to make heads or tails of what the document is about. You could use an online translator, but you need a full understanding of this material, there’s no room for error here.

Should you ask Jungkook? No, you should not. He seems innocent enough, but your sense of self-preservation now overrides any trust you might have once given him. You bite back a groan of frustration and instead mutter a few choice expletives through a heavy, weary sigh.

Then you get an idea.

If your ComGear is what usually does your translating, why not just send this there?

You fumble to highlight the document, then copy it and head over to Namjoon’s email. Yikes. Lots and lots of unread. Well, you can’t blame him with his hectic schedule. You skip over a couple of emails at the top that appear to be from law firms, and instead click to compose a new message.

Fuck, this will leave a trail, won’t it? If he checks his sent emails, he’ll see that you saw… whatever this turns out to be.

It doesn’t matter. He gave you access to this room. He knew the potential consequences.

You paste the body of the document, type in your email address and hit send. Not moments later, there’s a chime on your ComGear, and sure enough, an email has arrived. You don’t get much correspondence these days, apart from your network. Well, your old network. Now your phone constantly has notifications from the chatroom. It feels strangely comforting.

Without another moment’s hesitation, you tap the email and anxiously wait for it to load, praying that the automatic translation feature doesn’t fail you now.

Soon, the English text appears, and your worries are put to rest within the first line.

We must build a brighter future for PhysComs.

[fairycosmos]

3. I know i have to 'get out there' but it's hard when you've felt your whole life that nobody likes you. i literally only have one friend. i just feel really hopeless... i feel like im not meant for this kind of life, everything feels wrong and like im waiting for something's never gonna come, some kinda magic. i want of life of adventure and paint and write but instead i have to study because i'd feel like a loser w/o an education. i dont mind working i just dont want to study.

hey love, i'm really sorry to hear that. i think it's totally normal to be disappointed and even more so to be unsure about your future - it's not an indicator of failure, it's a natural part of growing up and finding your place in the world. i'm probably ignorant and don't know what it's like to actually be in your shoes, so i apologize if i come across as frustrating at some points. this is just my perspective. but i'm wondering if maybe taking more time away is an option for you? maybe working somewhere, focusing on your mental health for a while.... because the thing is your level of education has nothing to do with your worth as a person, and even more than that, there's no set time scale for this sort of thing. you could go back to college at 35, and it wouldn't matter. your life doesn't have to follow that stereotypical linear trajectory we're all forced to chase, in order for you to find happiness and success. and you don't have to justify your own personal choices to anyone, least of all to yourself. i just think it's important to try to focus on the factors of living that are in your control, that will bring you a sense of stability and peace. i know it's hard to let go of the internalised capitalistic idea of having to prove yourself through academia and getting a 'good job', but it's always useful to remind yourself of just how exploitative and made up that entire construct is. you're here and you're experiencing the world and with that you are fulfilling your point, you are doing enough. you are enough. everything else is background noise, that we're forced to muddle through, but background noise nonetheless. you don't need anyone's permission to prioritize your own needs and wants.

however, if you're dead set on studying this topic you don't like (which, i totally understand why you'd make that choice bc i know it's not that simple), then i reckon it's alright to just let yourself feel shitty for a while. any sadness, anger, disappointment, pain you feel about it is to be expected - and even though it fuckin sucks to have to carry it, its intensity definitely won't last. one way or another, you will adapt and so will your ability to cope. just don't use those emotions as an excuse to engage in self destructive behaviour, cause that'll only perpetuate the cycle and keep you in a dark place. having to force ourselves to do shit we hate is always going to feel like an everlasting burden we're never going to escape from, even if that's not the case in reality. and i had a lot of experience with that in school too - the main tactic i can remember making a difference, was like you said, finding little things to make the weight of it more bearable. i think that often starts first and foremost with our own mental health before anything else, because it controls the filter through which we see the world. if you don't like it in yourself you won't like it anywhere. when it comes to your social anxiety, are you receiving any support/would you be open to that? i think consistently seeing someone while you're in school - whether that's a counselor, a therapist, attending a support group or even just calling a hotline to begin with - could really help you manage the stress you're so afraid is waiting for you. having someone to talk to and learning why you are the way you are, and what tools could help you specifically in terms of coping mechanisms and finding a support network can honestly do wonders for your self esteem and the way you approach others. and of course it takes time, maybe that brand of self care is a lifelong process, but it's still important to engage with it. so balancing school with prioritizing your own wellbeing might be something that lightens the weight of the experience. anxiety tends to have us anticipating worst case scenarios and drawing on old insecurities to convince us we'll be alone and in pain forever, but what you've been through is truly not a mirror image of where you're going. making friends especially as an adult is fuckin hard, and struggling with it doesn't mean there's something irreparably wrong with you. just means it's hard to get to know ppl, but that's not a personal failing on your part. it's just a fact. most of them are too worried about their own 'flaws' to take note of yours. but that doesn't mean there aren't ppl out there you haven't met yet who will love you, even if that's hard to believe rn. also a side note, it could be a good idea to build up a routine where you're engaging in something that actively makes you happy at least a few times a week. can literally just be watching netflix, or taking up a hobby, meditating, going for a walk - i know college is v busy and it may not always be possible, but having small pockets of deliberate down time to look forward to is crucial. im not saying it'll cure everything or anything, just that it might make it all feel less overwhelming. but lastly, i want to say that it's ok if you give it a go and then decide you can't do it. that's an option, too. it doesn't have to be black and white. don't fault yourself for not wanting to spend 3 years doing something you hate, but also know that it's possible to get through it if it's a means to an end for you, especially if you seek the help you need. and whichever choice you go with, neither of them are 'wrong.' it's just your path.

anyway, i'm sorry this got super long. i think discussing it with someone you trust might be a good move, just to know that they have your back whether you work through uni or not. you're honestly doing so much better than you realize and i'm proud of you for continuing to try and strive despite how painful it all is. but i really hope that you can catch yourself when your brain is being unnecessarily unkind to you, and that you can then make the conscious choice to change the narrative and approach it from a place of patience and self appreciation. i think your life is still worth living even if it doesn't match up to where you think you should be, which is something i've been trying to accept lately too. that so much is beyond our control and we can literally only focus on the silver linings of the factors that are in our hands. that we can still be okay, living like that. and none of this is permanent, not the way it often seems like it is, but especially not the confusion. it just takes time to live the answers to all the existential questions you have. take it a day at a time. ANYWAY im rooting for you with all my heart and if you want to talk about this properly feel free to message me!! my overarching point is that you're not as alone as you feel. and you won't be in college, and you won't be if you look for work instead. so many of us understand where you're coming from. much love to you, take care 💗💗

[cleocazo]

Alt alt alt 😘😘

im abt to throw it right back w this one cause ,, even tho she was rly badly written w a rly bad concept, CHARLOTTE WINTERS my TWENTY TWO year old WEREWOLF is forever in my heart. charlie was sixteen yrs old when i created her in 2012 for a buffy the vampire forum rp - considerably younger than all the other characters there, which reflected my situation too. everyone in this rp, aside from one other guy, was like.. 25+. most were in their thirties. i was thirteen turning fourteen and they all KNEW this, but … none of them had any issue ? in fact they all rly took me under their wing and taught me the rp ropes so to speak, so charlie mightn’t be great, but she comes with some pretty neat memories. i don’t remember a lot of her backstory, tbh. i know her home life was rly bad, to the point where like… her dad. who was someone high up in the reopened initiative ( villains in the buffy universe who experiment on monsters ), performed a lot of experiments on her after she was bitten, which resulted in charlie not only turning on full moons but also likely to turn whenever, if her heart rate rose. she was kinda supposed to be a villain when i brought her in, fitting in to a need the rp had for “double agents” who were working for the villains but reporting on the heroes - but plot twist, that wasn’t what actually happened. the first part of the plan went off without a hitch: this little runaway wolf pulled the heartstrings of this older wolf, danna, who’d also had a rough childhood and run away, and she took her back to her house w her boyfriend michael and insisted on becoming her guardian. but then the og plan went to shit cause charlie grew to rly love danna, and when michael dropped the suspicion and got close to her, he became like.. big brother and father figure all wrapped into one for her. they introduced her to the rest of their pack - oz, cole & their young ward, chester ( charlie’s future love, bc they were the same age in similar situations and also, michael hated him, so it was a great dynamic ) - and everyone decided to accept charlie in. she was supposed to like. kill them, ig. and instead she deflected bc they gave her all the things she’d never had before ( love, a family, all the gooey stuff ). she softened up and started going to school w chester in like. ‘15. and she even saved his life after an attack and opened up and told everyone the truth abt her, and why she’d originally come - and everyone forgave her bc she’d never hurt them or tried to and it was just. super cute. i miss her everyday. 

SEND ME “ALT!” TO BE INTRODUCED TO AN OLD CHARACTER / ONE I WANT TO PLAY / ONE I’M PLAYING  !!

here u go, hannah, another free promo for sidekickhq - right now i am playing a phoebe tonkin fc named MONICA “NIKKI” BARTON, and she is the actual love of my life. nikki is the TWENTY THREE ( almost twenty four. its coming soon ) year old daughter of BARNEY BARTON, otherwise known as hawkeye’s trash brother who’s mostly a villain, sometimes just stupid - and outta every oc i’ve made in the last few yrs, i think she’s gotta be my fave. she’s totally human ( no special powers here ), and she’s had the worst life, so allow me to try n unpack it all: her dad’s an alcoholic and her mom was addicted to drugs, and after 3 yrs together they split up, her mom dragging her across state and away from permanent mess, barney. he didn’t have contact w her up until she was seven, coming back into her life w a court order and proceeding to try and make awkward conversation during every scheduled meet up. at eleven her mom fell of the wagon and overdosed - nikki came home, couldn’t unlock her bedroom door, and called her dad. she waited on the porch steps while he broke down the door and found her mom dead. the cops took her away and stuck her in the foster system, and for another three yrs her dad tried rly hard to get legal custody of her. that failed, so he just. kidnapped her. from the playground. great parenting, barney! they traveled for a lil while but eventually settled back in the rly rundown house that nikki had spent her first 3 yrs, and life was a whole ass mess from that point onwards. her dad kept drinking, she kept having to bail him out, she eventually dropped out of high school so she could make money to actually, y’know, survive, this led her into being a drug mule, and from there, can u believe, it actually gets worse. her boss was p paranoid, used to hit her if he thought she’d skimmed some product to feed what had now become a personal addiction, too, and her dad was still p nonexistent. she completed her GED and did some online courses but she was pretty stuck, ‘til she ended up in JAIL - this is another long story, but her boss got it in his head she’d stolen money that he had actually just not gotten, and drove to her house w all intent of killing her. in the resulting fight she hit him over the head w an iron doorstop and realizing he was dead, called the cops and waited for them on the porch ( some nice lil mirror imagery, there ). she’d only completed like. four yrs of her sentence, when her uncle clint finally got wind of what had happened and cut her a deal with shield - if she gave them info on her dad, who was still at large, then they’d let her go free ( tho free meant going to a monitored academy and not stepping outta line ). she agreed, the rest is history, i stan nikki barton so much. she’s SUCH a typical phoebe tonkin character i own that so u don’t have to drag me, but she’s rly also so good - and my fave thing is that her arc isn’t about her finding that goodness, or anything. she already knows who she is. her arc’s all abt slotting back in with family, and trying to find her footing in a world she feels she got cut off from, and tryna work out what she can do when up til now, she didn’t have any chances. she finally has a shot at some sort of good life - and i’m rly loving writing that. 

and now, a character i have created but am yet to play - BEATRICE ANNE HALLMAN, commonly known as BIBA, is a TWENTY THREE yr old human who’s just rly out here. living her life. biba suffered from a ventricular septal defect at birth, and though she survived the surgery she went through to fix that, has had some health issues for most of her life because of it. this could have led to her being someone afraid of . u know. pretty much everything. but it didn’t! she has dreams and she wants to achieve them, but she’s stuck for the time being cause. even tho she was a fighter, who survived a literal hole in her heart - she got kinda used to things getting handed to her cause of that ( #spoiled ), and she expected to get into the college of her dreams without putting forward much effort. she didn’t, so now she’s gone into windows shut down mode which is... give up and don’t do anything bc one thing didn’t go right and that means that she’s a failure who will never amount to anything. that’s not true, obviously, but she’s fairly content to believe it, and has spent the last couple years working as a bartender and taking part in productions put on in her local theater, which isn’t hollywood, but.. it’ll do! nothing is enough for biba and my fave thing about her is that even if she’s stuck right now it’s not gonna last forever and she will go to college and achieve something, she just needs to get her head outta her ass first and realize that even if she can’t do what she wants, it doesn’t mean she won’t get to where she wants to be, eventually. i stan!

[rainbowparadiseharry]

I don’t care if no one reads this, but i have to get it out on here rather than in a journal where i know no one will see it. i feel like i can’t talk to anyone about this without feeling like a failure or bursting out in tears. so, here goes.

i’m 25. i started college at 19 at a community college. my plan was to move on to a 4 year university. i had absolutely no idea what i wanted my major to be. none. i went to college bc my parents essentially made me and really, what else would i have done?

 the only major i thought to pursue was interior design. it’s something i still love to this day, but i don’t have good drawing skills at all, and my art teacher was never supportive in high school, so my confidence in any interior design skill whatsoever, diminished. when i started college i declared my AA as english. i was like, “yes, i love to read! i love words!” then the questions of “well do you want to be a teacher?” started coming. i changed it after that to general studies. i feel like at that point in my life, i was going to college just to go. i had no goals, no passion to pursue and in turn, i had no motivation to meet with advisors to see if i was on track or not. so a 2 year associates turned into something that felt never-ending. 

in 2016, i applied for a university and got accepted. at this point i was 22 and still didn’t have my associates (again, lack of communication with anyone at the com. college and lack of motivation on my part)  my plan was interior design with a minor in business. i never got the opportunity to attend the uni. because my dad bought a manufacturing company in the midwest, so literally having nothing keeping me there, i followed my parents out here. once here, i applied at another community college (why i didn’t apply at a 4 year university i’ll never know). that was 2017 and finally, finally(!!) in may 2019 i got my associates in business. the thing is, if someone asked me anything business related, i wouldn’t know a damn thing. i got by in that program by doing well in class but did i retain anything? no. 

i work at my family’s company as an administrative assistant. the deal was, was that i would get my bachelor’s in something that would give me a future at the company. i’ve found that i am not passionate about business. you could put me in thousands of meetings about various happenings at work and i would still have no clue what’s going on. it’s frustrating because i feel like i have to put on this front bc of who my dad is that i absolutely love business/manufacturing/etc.  and i just fucking don’t. i’m grateful for the job i have and for the benefits i get because of my job and who my dad is, but at the same time i question if it’s really worth it. 

so, i’m 25 and i’m still pursuing my bachelor’s degree. i have another couple years left. my dad wants me to graduate with a degree in accounting. so i declared my degree as accounting. i hate math. always have. i hate it because i have to work really, really hard to understand it, while it comes to others so quick. it’s another insecurity of mine. i’m not even a week into my first semester at this new university and i just want to cry. i realized just how out of place i was today when i looked around and everyone looks 6 years younger than me.

 i want to make my dad happy and take over the business one day, but i want to make me happy. something that would make me happy though would be to work with animals. i’ve loved animals for as long as i can remember. of course, there are no veterinary technician programs in my state that is close to home, and that’s what i would choose to do. i brought up being a vet tech to my dad a looong time ago, and he said “they don’t make any money.” it always boils down to money with him. i understand it, he wants me to not struggle or be uncomfortable. i don’t want that either, but would i rather make 6 figures doing accounting or make a low 5 figures working with animals? i pick the latter. it’s never that easy though. 

i want to just be done with school and have a career, but it feels never ending at this point. i work part time and it feels impossible to go full time to school, so that means it’ll take me even longer to get my degree. another setback. shout out to anyone who can work + go to school full time. my mental health could never. 

that’s another thing that i haven’t gone over yet is mental health. i have social anxiety and depression. i’ve never been diagnosed with depression, but it’s clear that something isn’t quite right. the social anxiety is what makes me depressed, i think. it’s a vicious cycle that i’ll never seem to escape. i think the lack of motivation i had all through my college career is from anxiety. the fear of not being good enough, of being perceived as stupid, etc, etc. i can see it clearly looking back, but at the time i could say it was because i hated school. i only hate school because it makes me anxious. i’m so fucking worried about others while i’m there to learn, that i forget to actually learn. i find myself trying so hard to follow a lecture by taking notes, but i’m so aware of people around me, wondering if they’re looking at me or if the teacher will suddenly call on me, that i don’t retain anything. which then makes the thought of “i’m too stupid and not smart enough compared to everyone else.” come up again and again. it literally makes me hate myself so much. 

i try to have faith and to pray. i understand that no one will snap their fingers and shit will fall into place exactly how or when i want it. i have to figure it out myself, but it’s really hard when i don’t have any friends to talk to about this. 

i feel so defeated, overwhelmed, and burned out.

[imaginingit]

surgeon!wonwoo

i suck balls at science and can’t remember anything at all from any of my classes but i think it’s one of the most interesting and unfathomable concepts in the world - and in my world, so does wonu so enJOY

wonwoo and his specs gave me this idea and it ki l l ed m e

so i knew i had to write a lil something abt it :-)

ok where do we start

remembered his mama camping out in the kitchen all the time and then heard the occasional “ah!” as she nipped her finger cutting some onions

and raced like usain freaking bolt to the medicine cabinet to reach the bandaids

and the look in her eyes when he quickly patched it onto her

it was just a bit of blood, but 4 year old!wonwoo was still hopped up on the high kitchen counter with one hand on his hip, the other wiping an imaginary sweat drop from his head, and gave a nice long “phew! you’re ok, ma! scared me there”

then proceeded to yell at her with his extremely not-deep-yet voice (om g can u imagine) for not being careful enough and interrupting his power ranger episode

but a few nipped fingers and a million thank-you smooches (“eW MOM gEt awAY i’m 4, i’m too old for kisses) later, jeon wonwoo decided to become a surgeon

bc how is it not cool to sew severed fingers back together???

so through elementary and junior high, he walked into science class everyday with a little hop in his step for his favourite subject and ready to learn about cells and mitochondrial functions and enigmas of the muscle and much more

until he discovered more than just sewing severed toes and ears back together

he remembered his 7th grade teacher talking about how the brain is the most powerful thing in the world, and just a simple nug to the head can send it all crashing down

he also went on to explain that the brain will never be a mystery solved, but those who try will never be short of acclaim

and since then, he delved into the world of neurology

by delved, i mean, dove the fuck into it, then drowned, then woke, then dove some more

through high school, he topped every single one of his bio classes and won every single science award in the school board

how????

HE’S A GENIUS

and also stays in on sunday afternoons to read his bio 4.6 textbook instead of sushi with friends

leading to best friend mingyu’s endless grumbling and whining that they never get to hang out anymore

meanwhile mingyu has his socks and sweaters and clothes all at wonwoo’s place; has a toothbrush there, buys food for his parents, uses the stove at wonwoo’s more than wonwoo does the pOINT IS HE BASICALLY LIVES WITH WONWOO

but everyone around wonwoo knows how much it means to him to be able to make this work

he marvels about science bc it’s a practicality but finds beauty in its enigma and endless endeavours of research and study

(jeon wonwoo is basically a nerd)

(but a hot one)

but yes, all his life, books, textbooks, textbooks, and books are all he’s known

so with all this accumulated knowledge he literally fucking powers through his undergrad and masters programs like.  .. … bruh

he then gets accepted into the second top med school in the country boY

and this was such an eye opening experience for him because as much as his undergrad and masters did for him with theoretical aspects of science, he finally got to do hands on experiments and witness clinical trials and watched a live!! open!! brain!! surgery!!

so finally he goes through his internship and residency for a few years at this amazing hospital in the heart of the city and has already become most renown neurosurgeon the hospital has seen in years despite his age

imagine little wonu in faded green scrubs, with a tiny notepad in his hand and occasionally pushing his glasses up his nose, as he scurries around with his resident trying to take notes during rounds

to this hot-ass, confident, head of neurosurgery surgeon that has nurses and residents (even interns and PATIENTS) slipping on their drool for him in his white coat and cerulean blue dress shirt, the top button left untouched (seungcheol had to slap his hand away multiple times during breakfast to keep him from trying to button it again)

but lbr he still trips over his laces bc he forgot to tie them before he left in the morning and buttons his dress shirt wrong under his white coat when coups doesn’t come in the morning to check up on his wardrobe choices for the day 

one time, accidentally brought mingyu’s grocery shopping list from his briefcase to the pharmacy rather than the prescription for ibruprofen for his patient jesus christ wonwoo

the point is, knowledge has always come easy for him, the other stuff have not 

,,,,,,and then there’s u

oh boy

science is ur nemesis

ultimate. nemesis.

the first time you ever stepped foot into your science class in the sixth grade, every word that came out of ur teacher’s mouth, to you, was just a complete ,,,, , , ,what??

and ur not stupid (actually very completely opposite), ur brain just physically, literally, cannot comprehend the concept of science

even if it may be so extremely fascinating to u, chem!!! physics!!!! and bio!!! are allergic to sticking to ur brain so u just learn to avoid science at. all. costs.

remember when i said that jeon wonwoo was a classic genius and a social termite like he’s so shy and weird around new people that he just deflects it at all costs?

WELL NOT YOU

so u went into journalism bc instead of memorizing formulas and using every unit of area in ur brain, ur communication is ur best friend

through high school and university, you were the campus butterfly

you knew everyone and everyone knew you, and any event that needed an mc? a motivational speaker? a presenter? that’s you!

you and best friend soonyoung always do those stuff together and you fell in love with the art of communicating, articulating, and analyzing information, all the while keeping the listeners intrigued and focused the entire time

but unfortunately the years after ur undergrad trying to look for gigs with ur firm has been extremely unsuccessful and it was to the point where u didn’t know if u wanted to stop this or continue bc it was just too low of a demand

until one day!

u come into ur office and find a piece of paper on the bulletin board talking about the new neural clinical trial happening at this huge hospital near u, and they were looking for someone to cover it!

and at first u were like um kk clinic? try? what?

but .2 seconds later it hits you that thERE’S AN OPEN OPPORTUNITY

and u vow to plow through it as boring as it may be, bc it’s been just sitting there and people haven’t signed up probably cause medical cases are usually a failure and such a bore to talk abt

you need this

so u quickly apply with all the info you need to and two days later, you’re stepping foot into this huge hospital and escorted to the neuro ward to get things started

when u get to the floor ur led by nurse!jeonghan to the head surgeon on this case

i think y’all know where this ish is going 

and jeonghan begins asking u a few questions abt the case, trying to gauge where you are with the info, and its safe to say u have nada dirt on this

so he laughs and begins to explain

this was the first clinical trial this hospital has done in 14 years, and despite being a renown teaching and surgical hospital, it has never quite reached its potential on the research aspect 

so the new head of neuro, dr. jeON, has decided to go forth with the new clinical trial (an experiment where those with the sickness subjected to the study will volunteer to be apart of the research, using themselves as a way to find a cure) for huntington’s disease, an inherited brain disorder that slowly deteriorates one’s ability to move, speak, function, as brain cells being to die off

he’s already got you so hooked on the case that you begin to wonder why no one at ur firm did an extra bit of research in the first place to snatch this gig 

but ur glad anyway CAUSE ITS NOW URS

u probably looked so flabbergasted and numbly excited that jeonghan mistook it for ur cluelessness and nerves, so he goes

“dw, it’ll be fine! dr. jeon here will walk through everything with you anyway, and you’ll basically be with him for the entire course of this trial to document everything, so tomorrow, just immediately head up here”

and knocks on the door labeled “dr. jeon wonwoo, ph.d, m.d., head of neurosurgery”

and for the head of neuro, for someone taking forth in an idea that hasn’t been touched in over a dozen years in such a renown hospital, you did not expect the door to be opened by a 

beautiful

human being 

his glasses sat perfectly atop his face as his sharp yet kind eyes rested upon urs 

and his white coat and black dress shirt today and nice slim pants and a pair of $200 light brown dress shoes bOI

and when he opens the door and finds ur mouth agape and eyes shining with excitement he feels like a leap in his chest 

like who is this beautiful person 

and he scolds himself, no wonwoo stop this nOW 

and he doesn’t know if it’s bc he hasn’t been on a date in like forever or if it was simply u

answer: it was simply u 

but we’ll get to that 

and jeonghan notices the tension so begins giggling and retreating from the scene

so wonwoo clears his throat when it’s just the two of you left

introduces himself and you m e l t bc

his........voice.................

and you stutter ur name and in his head he’s like o h m g what a pretty name what do i do with myself

so you enter his office and its surprisingly extremely tidy and put together for someone that probably has to worry about so much in a day 

and begins to talk about the case with you 

and remember the cute and stuttery person that opened the door to see u like 2 minutes ago

GOODBYE

bc here’s jeon wonwoo talking about science and his eyes light up brighter than anything you’ve ever seen

he talks about huntington’s first to give you a bit of background as to what it is, and then delves right into his plan

his hands begin to move with his words and he smiles when he begins to talk about how no one has attempted this before and maybe this could make a difference in this hospital, his career, and even medical history!!

and he kinda noticed you blanking when he talked about the logistics of the science so he kinda laughs to himself, knowing that science might not be ur thing

but for some reason, ur ok with science if u have this man talking to u abt it 24/7 ;)))))))

and u take notes on this and he notices ur pretty handwriting so gathers up his GODDAMN COURAGE to ask u a simple question

“so you’re a journalist?”

and u begin to tell him that you loved being able to tlak about something that reflected on someone’s experiences and share them with the world, just liek this one 

and he smiles and thanks u, knowing that it must have been difficult to agree to a medical case 

u assure him its no problem, meanwhile swooning over his s m i l e

and it’s only been like 30 minutes but u’ve already developed a crush like wow 

so for the first week, your conversations are a wholesome mixture of science, stutters, facepalming when u say something cringey and accidentally, and hoping to make the other laugh 

in the second week, you begin to meet the patients coming in, taking each of their stories and details with huntington’s 

and for the first time, you see how wonwoo interacts with his patients

and that crush that you developed become sso much more - you have this whole new found respect for him as a doctor

with care and intent, he asks his patients abt their day before going right into details of the treatment, knowing that all these people are doing his career a favour and the least he can do before they risk their lives into this experiment is at least be their friend

and even 70 year old women that can barely move anymore still manage to blush at the sound of his voice 

u see the way he holds their hand when he’s explaining the process and the courteous nod of his head as they talk to him and u know this man is more than just a surgeon and that he’s just an amazing human 

by the third week, your conversations have now transitioned to telling each other what u did last night and what ur planning for dinner tonight 

and u know to bring him coffee every morning now

the first time u did it, he legit had STARS in his eyes bc o mg u r so cute 

and u guessed it right the first time, that he liked his coffee black with just a dash of sugar

GET THE METAPHOR

by the end of the month, the more you learn about him, the more you’re amazed

you guys become closer and share the passion of wanting to help ppl in some way

and ur relationship now has become a complete budding and teasing relationship and there’s literally never a dull moment with u 

ur fav thing to do together is to do acrostic poems

u also take bets on who’s sleeping with who in the hospital

he always wins 

“its not fair u OBVIOUSLY know more abt them than i do!!!”

“hey babe, dont hate the player, hate the game”

and then u have to keep ur knees from buckling bc bABE ? ?? ? ?

the nurses always comment on how you’ve brought him so far out of his shell and he never really used to talk to anyone besides his patients, but he’s been treating his residents to dinner, helping the nurses out with the paperwork, and it’s only been happening since u came

and u r like

. . ,,, ?? me?

and they’re like yes! do u not notice how red he turns everytime u walk into the room?

you soon learn his favourite colour is blue

his favourite band is my chemical romance 

im kiddin g 

his best friend is mingyu and he’s a chef 

you learn that he has a younger brother and his first ever splurge was buying him and his parents a cottage by the ocean

also that he never really eats at home and he barely ever gets to go home bc of the gruelling hours and so he tends to just eat in his office before he checks up on his patients during night rounds 

you also learn that he’s having a housewarming party for his new condo this saturday and was wondering if yoU’D LIKE TO COME ALONG???

by this point, your research was mainly complete and you were a third finished with ur piece on this

so ur like y know what? SURE

and u try ur fucking best not to blush, but as you leave for the night, jeon wonu does a HUGE happy dance in his office before realizing that his walls and doors are glass and peopLE CAN SEE U WONWOO GODDAMn

but he texts u his address with a smirky face 

“jeon wonwoo why are u sending me a text w a smirky face” 

“idk that was my attempt to be cool did it work” 

“no”

“oh”

so it was ur day off on the day of his party and u know wonwoo doesn’t really throw stuff like this cause he only has a "small” group of friends

“it’s only gonna be u and my small group of friends”

“how small”

“well i grew up with these guys, there are abt 13 of us”

“THIRTEEN ISN’T SMALL”

and usually you’d be fine bc u have no problem meeting ppl but like these are wonwoo’s brothers???

you wanna try so hard to impress these people bc--

wait wonu isn’t ur bf??? WYD

SNAP OUT OF IT 

so u slap urself and then take like four hours to find the right outfit and do ur hair nicely 

and u show up in ur fav outfit and look bomb asf yas 

and he opens the door after u knock

and

oh

my

lord

he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt and ripped jeans 

jeon wonwoo

phd

md

head of neurosurgery 

in ripped jeans 

rip reader

and as u lose ur words, he also loses his and ur both just standing there clearly REALIZING THAT UR IN LOVE WITH THE OTHER PERSON AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME YOU’VE EVER WORN ANYTHING OTHER THAN PROFESSIONAL CLOTHING AND WOW? SO? NICE?

so he snaps out of it bc yes i’m hosting this party thts right, and brings u inside 

you hear a bunch of exclaiming and hushing from inside the rooms and a lot of limbs knocking into the walls as 13 human beings sprint from inside of the condo to mEET THE JOURNALIST THAT JEON WONWOO HASN’T SHUT UP ABOUT IN TWO MONTHS 

and they all rush out and ur a bit overwhelmed but introduce urself and then scan through all the faces

you notice nurse!jeonghan, head of pediatrics!chan, his best friend, mingyu, and--

wait

“KWON SOONYOUNG???????”

yes ur best friend from uni also happens to have grown up in the same neighbourhood as surgeon jeon and u cant believe ur luck

so hoshi jumps out from the herd of men and tackles you with a hug and u can’t believe this until wonwoo explained he didn’t tell them ur name bc they would go crazy stalker-bitch mode, hence why they were so excited to meet u today 

so the rest of the night was spent with everyone being completely loud and tipsy and pushing the two of u together in an attempt to be slick they’re not 

and u see the bond that all the boys have and how boisterous wonwoo is around them too and u feel so lucky and ur heart is so full to witness a group of people truly in love and as close with one another 

so by the end of the night, as they all leave, soonyoung stops u at the door before he goes and tells u how happy he is that after losing touch post-uni, u’ve managed to bump into each other today again

but he also hugs u and tells u that wonwoo hasn’t shut up abt u 

and that he hasn’t been in touch with his brothers in a rlly long time bc of stress and anticipation with this new project

and that although wonwoo doesn’t do this much, he can tell that he’s super comfortable around u and that he seems to glow when he talks abt u 

and ur like omg s o noyougn  st op po

so after he leaves, you stay behind to help clean up 

but you’ve also decided

to confess

bc ur project is almost over and the paper is almost finished and ur ok with leaving on this note, regardless of if he reciprocates the feelings or not 

u just had to tell him, it was in ur nature to 

and u almsot back out but at the door, just as ur about to leave 

you were gonna say it 

and then 

his lips are on urs and god they’re soft and ur eyes just close immediately and his two hands cup ur face, intensifying the kiss, holding u up and taking up ur space as if he owns it and wow, it does things to u 

after what feels like an eternity, you part and u look at him with his swollen lips and rosy cheeks and glistening eyes and u almost cried right then adn there

bc wow ur in love with jeon wonwoo and u can’t believe u haven’t even told him that 

“i’ve been waiting to do that for so long”

“idiot, i was gonna confess first”

shrugs “i guess i just beat u in everything then”

that gets a smack on the head

until he asks u to stay the night and he can drive u both to work in the morning tomorrow and u agree bc how can u say no and so u end up staying over and wearing his sweater to bed and he lies there in bed literally hyperventilating bc SWEATERS ARE HIS WEAKNESS LIKE WHAT

so u drive into work the next morning with ur hands intertwined and in the corner of ur eye as ur walking in, u see head of pediatrics!chan slap a fifty dollar bill into nurse!jeonghan’s hands

so the rest of that month is spent going through with each patient and stealing chaste kisses in the x-ray viewing rooms and getting teased by everyone in the hospital 

even the patients 

until by the third month, the trial hits its first roadblock 

patient 04 had died on the table just as jeon wonwoo was inserting the second tube, and as surprised as u are that this was the first malfunction with the trial, it hits u nonetheless

hearing the news, u drop everything and go to his office after the surgery

this was the first taste of adversity in ur relationship too and u were curious to see as to how you guys were going to deal with this, esp since ur work was integrated into ur personal life 

but u walk in and there he is 

eating a freaking popsicle 

jeon wonwoo’s patient just died on the table and he’s in here eating ice cream

and u didn’t know if u were confused? angry? horrified?

and u close the door behind u as u walk in and draw the blinds for the glass walls and windows 

and as u turn around from doing that, he chucks the popsicle into the bin, walks up to you slowly and drops his head onto ur shoulder

you freeze, unsure if he’s crying or not, but u hear steady breathing and his arms slowly creeping around u and ur sure he isn’t 

but u can tell that he’s exhausted and scared, even if no words are shared between the two of u 

so you both stand there for god knows how long, holding each other, breathing each other in, releasing all tension and heartache from the day without a single word, just the sound of heartbeats and breathing 

until finally he lifts his head, eyes droopy and a small smile on his face, arms still around you, when u cup his face and tell him that ur so damn proud of him 

everything is going to hit a roadblock at some point, and this was bound to happen. we entered this knowing that it was science; anything can happen. just hang in there, wonu, we can do it 

and that was the first time wonu said i love u out loud 

and for all the people that doubted he was going to ever get a girlfriend with his head stuck in so many textbooks, it was the head stuck in the textbook method that even got him here to meet u in the first place SO SUCK IT

and so by the time u finish ur paper and the trial is reaching its end, there was a mixture of patients that successfully responded to the trial and those that didn’t make it 

but ur paper gets high acclaim from hospitals across the province for its research and editorial skills

and wonwoo received the highest achievement award from the board for his endeavours with the trial 

and after many long and gruelling months filled with work and chaste kisses here and there

you finally have time to take a seat and take in everything 

and marvel at wonu as a surgeon and as a human

bc how in the damn world did u ever get so lucky with science??

this,, ,, ,, is so long but enjoy bc i love jeon wonwoo 

:)

[inadeepanddarkdecember]

[[ this is kinda rambly and piecemeal and out of order since its an edited convo off of discord from before cy’s heart got replaced, but i decided i wanted this Extra Large thalassemia infodump on my blog. go read this primer first for basic info on thal; cyrus’s form is beta thalassemia major. ]]

even with a perfectly healthy and functional heart, cy'd still have a too fast pulse and likely have arrhythmias; that comes with the territory of his anemia, and he could still develop heart failure again later in life. the problem with cy's current heart is that its been scarred to shit by the extra iron in his body from his blood transfusions and hes developed cardiomyopathy as a result, which at this point is virtually guaranteed to kill him before he turns 30, even if he takes perfect care of himself and never develops any other complications from his thalassemia ever (which aint fuckin likely). this failing heart just deals worse with arrhythmias he already has, especially under stress, and already struggles to keep up enough blood pressure.

bone marrow transplants are currently the closest thing to a cure for thalassemia we have and hellll no he has not had that done i doubt hes even on a waiting list. with his shit in the state hes in, its questionable if he'd even survive the process its pretty intense, nevermind the finances and healing and finding a match and even so much as qualifying to have it done.

cyrus goes in for a blood transfusion every three weeks. when transfusion dates get close, within a few days, hes more tired; he doesnt go out; he can be moodier; he can get headaches and dizzy spells. he feels best after a transfusion, then its just a slow decline till the date rolls around again. i tend to rp him within a week or two of being transfused most of the time simply bc its easier to get him out there interacting with people.

sometimes they coincide with transfusion dates, sometimes they don't, but he has longer appointments to check up on his other bodily functions every so often. theres general stuff, looking at his counts, then more specialized appointments to keep an eye specifically on his heart or check up on his liver and other organs as needed.

thalassemia by itself kills a person through not having enough blood to get oxygen around the body; this is solved through blood transfusions. chronic anemia means chronic transfusions. which would be fine! except chronic transfusions cause a build-up of iron in the body, and that shit is toxic and where the more fatal complications tend to stem from for thalassemia patients. also, being anemic means your body thinks it needs iron, so it's prone to absorb more from food than the average person, an added bonus. consequently, there are certain foods cyrus avoids. legumes, dark leafy greens, etc. look up any list of iron-rich foods, and thats a list of shit cyrus ought to be avoiding or indulging rarely. (funnily enough, these lists also are often advertised towards anemic people because those who arent transfused have the opposite problem.) part of his tea drinking habit is because tea inhibits iron absorption, along with he just likes it. coffee works too and he doesnt object to it, but he prefers tea.

another consequence of chronic transfusions is that you end up with a lot of old shitty dead blood cells in your system, and your spleen is left to clean it up. unfortunately, when faced with that much to clean, it can enlarge (splenomegaly) and become overactive (hypersplenism). so it starts removing healthy blood cells too quickly and too early, which can cause the anemic patient to need more blood when being transfused, which risks more iron, and not to mention its generally uncomfortable for the patient with the enlarged spleen. in short, this happened to cyrus, so his spleen has been removed. spleens, however, also play an important role in the immune system, so he was already kinda vulnerable as an anemic, but having no spleen makes him doubly at risk of infections. he takes antibiotics as part of his daily pharmaceutical regime.

during cold and flu season, docs tend to strongly suggest he wear surgical masks during school and whenever hes around a lot of people in public places, but he almost never does. he doesnt like the attention it gets him esp in school, but sometimes he'll do it when hes on public transit or anything. he does carry hand sanitizer with him a lot of the time tho

bc his immune system is fragile, he often goes in-patient for what would be minor sicknesses for us, esp if theres a fever. he tends to be hit hard by them, and being sick can make his counts plummet as his body tries to fight off the disease.

coming back around to iron related bullshit, iron overload is treated by iron chelation, for which there are mainly two medicines, deferoxamine and deferasirox, and cyrus uses the latter because i have never been able to find out enough goddamn information about deferoxamine. deferoxamine is the more common and cheaper of the two medicines; its injected subcutaneously over the course of 8-12 hours and has its own list of side effects and the process itself tends to be kinda painful from the accounts ive read. its done at home, often while the patient sleeps bc... well, when else are you gonna get a child to sit still for 8-12 hours. its definitely the one cyrus was on for a while, when he was younger. bc ive had a hellish time finding info on the pump used for deferoxamine and more about that medicine generally, cy’s currently on deferasirox. slightly different side effects, but otherwise does the same job in pill form.

thalassemia patients who've been cared for properly should be healthier than cyrus is. most patients his age havent had a heart attack already and arent dealing with heart failure, not yet. his parents have always struggled financially to keep up with his medical bills, but there was a time when he was still young that they still thought they could manage if they just worked hard enough. they were too proud to accept help, and he suffered for it. they eventually gave in but even then still struggled to keep up. sometimes a sudden unexpected change in insurance policy would fuck em for a while finanacially. so sometimes they'd not fill a perscription for a while or wait longer than they should to take him in-patient, hoping he might just tough out a cold or smth. sometimes he'd manage to do that and have abysmal blood counts next time he went in, and a couple of times he got so sick he was legit on death's doorstep by the time he got to the hospital and needed way longer to recover. sometimes cyrus would be too fussy about the deferoxamine and they didnt have the energy that night to force him to accept it or he'd turn off the machine himself after they left. not too often, he was pretty good about just accepting it and did most of the time, but it def happened more than a few times. and if it had already been activated, they couldnt reuse it and had to throw the dose out, in which case that was it he skips it no replacement they cant afford it not in the budget.

and because the effects of iron overload are long-term ones for the most part, it was easy to be like "ehh he seems fine for now". like, they knew the risks, but it was hard to see them as anything but so far in the distance as to be irrelevant. cyrus himself isnt great about the whole self-care thing either; his depression has helped nothing. he's been known to just flush or toss pills in a small spiteful act of rebellion, all his parents care about is that hes still alive and their money, and medicine's expensive, so wouldnt it just piss em off to throw it all away. he'll eat foods he shouldnt for similar reasons, along with just the pleasure of it. and sometimes he hits the sort of suicidal low where he just.... doesnt see the point. each dose he takes is a choice to keep living, and sometimes that choice isnt one he wants to make.

no one quite realized how bad he was tho till his first heart attack. he was so young; the docs dont rly know when hes skipping, so they werent watching too closely for the effects of it. and the damage his body took over time was amplified by his frequent stress. the heart and liver are the ones most affected by iron overload; his liver is somewhat damaged too, but thats not too bad yet, not as bad as his heart.

other little thal things: hormone levels can get super fucked. cy's puberty was a bit delayed, and his testosterone levels remain kinda low compared to average, so hes not as hairy as his genetics might otherwise dictate. he will never be able to grow a proper beard; it'll always be way too patchy and uneven. and despite what his touch aversion and other factors like stress and said low testosterone might lead you to believe, hes got a pretty strong sex drive, though he suppresses the hell out of it.

he was homeschooled for his first few years of elementary bc health concerns, but that couldnt be sustained bc of cost. so he rejoined public school since then. i wouldnt be surprised if his peers used his puberty delays against him, but i'd expect they were making fun of him less bc he was a late bloomer and more at his general girlishness, esp since this would also be around the time he was growing out his hair.

he has had people do the "lookit me ive befriended the sad disabled kid arent i good <3" schtick (which esp pisses him off bc its similar to shit melinda pulls) and hes met the people who try to be nice to him for three days then turn a 180 on him when he doesnt immediately cheer up and get all buddy buddy with them. and hence he now treats kindness from strangers with extreme skepticism, suspicion, and aggression. (thomas also feeds into this but ye) it scares off plenty of legitimately nice people who he could have befriended, buuut.

Oh, a couple Fun Facts I forgot to mention. bc anemia, he bruises easy and injuries generally take longer than normal to heal. And in part bc depression and in part bc meds are prone to fucking with his appetite, either killing it entirely or just making him nauseated, he tends to not eat enough and is kind of underweight. Melinda put him in charge of dinner most nights as part of a genuine good faith effort to ensure he's getting at least one good meal and get him home when he's supposed to be.

[ohh-kaye]

2020 Resolutions

oh god this year was a disaster

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

fuck this. let’s just go through my failures this year bc tbh i haven’t looked at this since i posted it and i’m positive that i didn’t actively attempt to achieve whatever’s on here.

1. Keep reading! (YES)

THANK GOD. Here’s my Goodreads 2019 Reading Challenge for you.

I’m writing this post in advance and it’ll be up on the 31st. I’m reading A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin right now and I don’t think I’ll be able to finish it and therefore read 22 books this year (I hope I do though). I’m glad I read this much but also disappointed. Glad because I read 17 last year and disappointed because I read 22 2 years ago and that was during the hectic year of nursing school.

21 is not bad though. The Lord of the Rings set me back because it took me almost 3 months. Was it worth it??? yes. pls go read it. it’s great.

2. 200 stars on Duolingo? (EH?)

Duolingo had an update this year and they’ve replaced the stars with crowns so I don’t know what to make of this. Are they equivalent values? I don’t know because I have 188 for German, 167 for Spanish, and 134 for French. So are these equivalent to stars??? I don’t know.

I did write on my note about this from last year that i don’t think I’ll make it past a 200-day streak and look here bby

so maybe I should’ve trusted myself more and actually put “Maintain streak for a year” like I should have.

3. Collect puzzles. (YES)

I’ve finally bought a 4x4 and a 5x5 and I bought more tangles this year and I bought a little metal wire connect puzzle. I’ve been meaning to buy more but I can’t afford them bc I’m unemployed woohoooooooo. Everytime I go to op shops, I immediately go to the kids/ toy section first to look for puzzles because that’s where the gold mine is most of the time.

4. Prepare for the GAMSAT. (YES)

No excuses. I’ve been studying daily since August for the March 2020 sitting. I’ve also been recording a weekly update of my study experience which I’ll collate, edit, and upload when I do get into Medicine because there’s no point in doing a full weekly study vlog if I don’t get in. I’m sparing myself from embarrassment and saving the experience of recapping this adventure when (if?) I do get accepted.

*fingers crossed*

5. Watch more musicals! (NO)

This is sad. I did go to Aladdin and Book of Mormon because I bought those tickets last year but those are the only musicals I saw this year. I couldn’t afford to go see any shows even though I really wanted to. You don’t realise how many times I’ve frequented the Adelaide Theatre Guide website just to browse through any shows that were running. I was going to go see Les Mis, Miss Saigon, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, West Side Story, and so many other shows but I passed because I couldn’t justify the purchase because I didn’t have a steady income. Yeah, I could’ve watched as many shows as I could but also... couldn’t.

6. Travel. (NO)

I’ve decided that travelling sucks and I’d rather be home.

7. Therapy. (NO)

I don’t know why kid myself with this. I can’t afford therapy. BUT! I feel like this gap year from work has helped a lot. I’ve been non-stop working since I arrived in Australia and by the end of last year, I was exhausted. This year off was so relieving because I finally had a chance to breathe. I’m still not the best, mentally, but I’m energised and looking forward to opportunities now whereas last year, I would’ve told you that I will kill myself. I still have not-so-very-nice thoughts and they’re few and far between these days but oooo boi when they’re there, I’m ready to go. I’ll tap out. Not thinking so much helps so maybe we’ll keep trying this next year.

3 - YES

3 - NO

1 - EH????

Not bad. Half and half and one outlier. I honestly thought I’d fail miserably. The ones that got no with, I’m surprisingly not too devastated by.

Moving on to 2020 resolutionsssss.

I’m thinking of this on the fly because I’ve yet to prepare anything.

Maybe we’ll keep it achievable?

1. KEEP YOUR FRICKING NURSING JOB THIS TIME!

I wrote a post earlier this year about losing my grad job. I was conflicted with my feelings. I’ve always hated nursing and I still do. When I got that first job, I was horrified because I knew I didn’t want it because I didn’t want to be a nurse anymore. I’ve mentioned this several times on here about my feelings for this profession and they haven’t changed. If God chose to listen to me this time, he went all out and took away what I hated the most. That was really extra for Him to do but thanks I guess. The thing is, I HAVE to be a nurse now. Not because I want to but because I can’t be unemployed forever while I wait for Medicine to turn out. I’m never going anywhere with just staying at home and feeding off of the limited resources we have as a family. No bullshitting this time. We have to do a good job now. I’m ready.

2. Read. read. read.

I’m putting this in every year. My Reading Challenge goes up by 1 book a year so we’re at 15 books for 2020. I’m worried about this because I have job now so I’m going to be okay if we at least complete it. I won’t be aiming for 20+ next year. It’ll be great but I’ll but myself some slack.

3. Buy a car.

Honeeeeey. We’re putting this on here. Let’s be crazy and put this on here.

I hate driving but also owning a car is another step in independence. I need this. I really do.

4. Pass the GAMSAT.

I’m expecting a lot from myself with this. If I’m being truthful here, I don’t think I’ll pass the March 2020. I hope I do. Flinders Uni consider 50 scores for all sections and I’m holding out on hope that I get the bare minimum. I’m working hard and I hope it goes well.

Optimism is not good for me because I’m setting myself up for disappointment.

I know I won’t get it thought. Is it still optimism if I optimistic about not passing?

Seriously though, I’m willing to take the September test if that’s what it takes. However long it takes Medicine. I will get you.

5. Be acne-free???

I went to the doctor this year. He’s so fucking hot btw. HAHAHAHAHAHAH no srsly he is. He put me on antibiotics which I’m finishing the last round of before I go on to just using spot cream. Then if that goes well, I go back next month and he’s thinking of putting me on Accutane. I’m acne-free with the antibiotics but as all health professionals know, we can’t be on this forever. It’s not good for me goddammit. So I saw Accutane coming. But if he decides to go through with it, I know my face will light up like a Christmas tree before everything gets better. But I have a job now that requires me looking at people and people that have eyes and can see me and can see that my face is cystic for 6-8 weeks (?) before it gets better and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i’m scared.

I just want clear skin boiii. Adult acne sucks.

6. HAVE A HEALTHY BMI.

I’m going through an emotional time as I type this. I’ve been pretty good with food this year. I haven’t weighed myself because I thought that I didn’t need anymore and that I was somewhat satisfied with where I am right now. But now, I’m worried that the thoughts are coming back.

This whole eating problem has been brewing since I was 10 and would show itself by me being terrified of weighing myself or seeing how much I weigh. THIS particular thought is scary to me these days because I know that this is how it presents itself and it’s back. And I feel uneasy and insecure again.

I feel a strong urge to start starving myself again and I thought I was done with this.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

this really sucks man.

This morning I literally put WEIGH SCALE on my fucking to buy list because I was conjuring up scenarios in my head where I’m weighing myself in secret every morning.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

So let’s frame this in a healthier mindset. I want a Healthy BMI. NOT BORDERLINE HEALTHY (which was where I was when I stopped starving myself the last time this happened) BUT ACTUALLY HEALTHY. And not through the lens of insecurity this time.

Please be good to yourself this year.

7. SEE KATYA AND TRIXIE LIVE!!!

Let’s end on a less crazy way.

YOU WILL MEET KATYA AND TRIXIE THIS YEAR AND HUG THEM AND TELL THEM THAT YOU LOVE THEM AND THAT THEY’VE MADE YOU SMILE AND LAUGH AND BE SO FUCKING HAPPY THROUGH ROUGH PATCHES. YOU WILL TELL THEM THIS BECAUSE YOU WILL DEFINITELY MEET THEM. YOU MUST. YOUR FIRST PURCHASE WITH YOUR FIRST PAYSLIP IS THE MEET AND GREET TICKET TO SEE THEM. YOU WILL MEET KATYA AND TRIXIE. I REPEAT. YOU WILL MEET KATYA AND TRIXIE.

Final notes as we put this year to a close.

2019 was a challenge and there were some trying times in there. I spent January waiting to start my job and relaxing as much as I could to prepare myself for it. Come February and all of that went away and I lost my job. We went to Sydney during the same month (which the vlog has yet to be edited). March and April were spent studying for the PTE and I aced that shit. May was sad. June through to July was spent moving houses. August (to present day) was spent fixing the new house and attempting to make it somehow presentable AND MY GAMSAT REVIEW BEGAN. The end of September through to the beginning of October, I did a Hospitality course and met Complex and I found out that I got offered the same job I lost for next year. November was nothing special. And here we are right now. December. 

I’m feeling anxious but hopeful and I’m trying not to think about things too much because I get overwhelmed and it leads nowhere.

I just want things to start getting better so that I start feeling okay.

Maybe 2020 will turn out to be that way.

:)