#on top of the last couple months being awful for my mental health

[sigridhawke]

This week has destroyed me emotionally but at least I found some energy to try draw my boys again ;; I miss drawing them and think of them often.

[Leather and Linen: The Memory Banks] [Leather and Linen - AO3 story link] [Tumblr post]  

[luveline]

could we get a glimpse into asf birthdays post-hogwarts? maybe r is having a bad time and isn’t feeling good and she worries that her sadness is ruining fred’s birthday but actually fred would rather spend his birthday in bed with ghost than at any sort of party. no pressure though lovely girl <3

love u!! fem!reader

cw mental health issues

Fred didn’t plan a party for his birthday. He works it out like this; it’s his birthday, and he loves you, and you don’t like parties, so he doesn’t really want one. He wants to spend an important day with his most important girl. He wants to see his family for breakfast, and so you go, and that’s enough of anybody else for a whole day. 

“What did you want to do for dinner?” you ask. 

“We just had breakfast.” 

“I know.” You frown at him in a faux of annoyance. “I’m just asking, so we can prepare.” 

“We’re gonna order something. No preparing. A feast. George might come over.” 

“If he doesn’t, he should be ashamed of himself.” 

“I’ll tell him you said that.” 

“Tell him!” You wrap your hand around his wrist for a few seconds. “Don’t tell him.” 

You seem a little out of sorts today. Making your very best effort to not let him in on the secret. Too bad for you, Fred knows you now. He knows when you’re depressed, when you’re freaking out, when you’re about to tip into overstimulation. He reckons he has a thirty percent chance of rescuing you, but he can see the guilt already taking shape on you. You’re unhappy, and you’ve never felt as ashamed of it as you do now. 

You’re squirming. 

“You know what I want for my birthday, lovely girl? You’ll never guess.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want to spend the next couple of hours in bed with you.” 

You manage a smile, though you’re not in the mood for the innuendo you’d misheard. “I don’t know if…” You list off as he takes your waist into his hands, as he pulls you stomach to stomach and leans back. His hands twine over the small of your back. 

“I wanna sleep with your hands in my shirt,” he says. “That’s all, Ghost. Not seducing you.” 

“You can seduce me.” 

“Maybe I’ll try again later,” he says offhandedly. “Will you come and lie down with me?” 

“I know what you’re doing,” you say, letting him pull you as he begins to steer you from the kitchen doorway to the hallway into his room. Your room, just as soon as he asks you to move in. Most of your stuff spots the room, and there have long been drawers emptied for your perusal. 

The birthday card you got for him lays open on the nightstand. He guesses every penny you’ve been paid in the last month was spent on his gifts. He doesn’t understand when you’d managed to buy all this stuff, ‘cos you’re always together, but presents and wrapping paper still lay at the end of the bed as proof of your secrecy. It’s impressive and worrying. He likes it better when you have no secrets.

“I’m gonna need a wheelbarrow,” he says. 

“Surprised you know what that is.” 

“Oh!” he says, pulling the duvet back, and encouraging you down into the mattress with a gentleness that contrasts his snarky tone. “Oh, oh, oh. You’re being mean. That’s cool, I can be mean too. I’ll be so mean.” 

He takes his presents from the bed to the dresser and shakes the blanket out, little shards of papers and tape falling onto the floor for later cleaning. You’re watching him silently. You hold out your hands. 

“Aw, babe,” he says with a sigh, climbing into bed and on top of you, his face slotting in the space over your shoulder. He closes his eyes to breathe you in. Blind, the smell of your perfume is stronger, sweeter. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

“I love the way you smell.” 

“Freddie.” 

“Sweetheart, I’ve never been better in my life.” 

You curl your arm behind his back. He has to stress how it feels, the perfect weight on him, the perfect size, everything about you is what he wants and he shouldn’t be surprised at how much he loves you, but it catches him off guard anyways. He really, genuinely, just wants you to be as happy as he is —he wishes he could take your unhappiness and put you on better footing. It must be quite disconcerting to feel sad all the time. 

Fred worries it’s scarier than you can handle. The last thing he wants is for it to overwhelm you. 

“You smell like heaven,” he mumbles, pressing his nose to your neck. 

“Sorry.” 

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” 

“It’s your birthday.” 

“I know,” he murmurs, “you got me all those presents. You gave the cutest wake up kiss anyone’s ever gotten.” 

Good morning, you’d said quickly, pressing a soft peck to his lips, your hand on his cheek. Happy Birthday. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you say, nearly breathless. 

“Nothing has to be wrong, Ghost. It’s okay if you don’t feel very well.” 

“It’s your birthday,” you repeat quietly. 

Fred gives you a smattering of soft kisses. “I know, but it doesn’t matter,” he promises, “don’t feel bad. Let’s just have some quiet time. Maybe you’ll feel better tonight.” 

“What if I don’t?” you ask. 

“I won’t mind.” 

You slip your hand up behind his shirt, fingertip trailing over the ridges of his stretch marks. You’re obsessed with them, and you always say the same thing when you feel them, a whisper he can barely hear. “You got too tall too fast,” you say, fingertip higher, hand flattening as you reach the space between his shoulders. “Do you think you’re done growing now?” 

Fred has no idea. He tells you as much, the afternoon spent whispering conversation until you turn quiet. For a while you cwtch in quiet, and he gives you a couple of minutes to yourself to make lunch, which he eats and you thank him for but don’t touch. By dinner time, you’re feeling well enough again to sit up. You hold his hands and ask if he wants to watch TV. 

It’s a great birthday. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for writing a paragraph on how I want to drop my friends?

(15F for ref, everyone in here is also F and around the same age)

In 2022, I returned from a six-week camp session with friends I only see once a year (pretty shitty experience ngl, but I still had fun), A couple days later, they accused me of stealing this girl's shirt since I was the last one to wear it. I told her I didn't and I wouldn't. I had a similar steal it because. They proceed to accuse me, so to get out my feelings I write this lengthy paragraph in my notes app expressing my thoughts and what I don't like about the group. This never gets sent out, and we stay friends.

In 2023, they went to camp again (for the last eligible year so it was very special to them), but I stayed home due to pre-existing commitments. This was also the time when the notes app trend was going on, a.k .a. where people would post their notes app and all the antics they wrote. I also posted a video like this, and on the sixth slide, I put the paragraph that I wrote in 2022 (it said 2022 at the top). They didn't immediately see this because they weren't allowed to have their phones, but I private the video before they got back due to a mental health issue I had accidentally aired out. At this time, I saw nothing wrong with the paragraph being included because all the issues had blown over.

A couple months later, I un-privated the video because YOLO and the group found it and immediately got hated on so hard for the video. They post pictures of me to social media stories write paragraphs about how awful of a person I am, create lies about me, and comment on all of my Tiktok posts where I talk about the issue, despite me being vague.

I don't know where I stand in this issue because yeah, I didn't go to the trip this year, and the paragraph was admittedly rude, but they didn't even give me a chance to explain, and getting body shamed on a private Snapchat story when they know I had an ED isn't something i think I deserve, but I need outsider perspective.

The paragraph for reference:

I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. The whole entire time I was at camp I felt isolated because I was not as involved and as social with the boys as you guys were/are, and that might not be your fault, but you guys have no care in that being the only thing you discuss on this group chat. Every time I text about something else, it always gets pushed to the side and now you are accusing me of stealing (name)’s top. I agree, I was the last on to wear it, but distinctly remember throwing it back into (name)'s trunk. I am sorry it did not make the trip back home, but it is not my fault. I don’t want your slutty top anyways, I only borrowed it because my ebb to street wasn’t going to work. I have done so much for you guys, like letting everyone borrow my clothes, giving away my lululemon, and while some of my pieces were stolen, I am not pointing fingers at random people because I have control of my feelings. So many words have been wasted protecting the reputation of Cabin 10 from others who think you guys are attention-seeking whores (you want names? It’s the whole fucking camp), and everyone looked at me in pity when I cried into my hands because I was so sad. I have heard you guys talk shit about me in front of my face (*giggling and whispering* Are you going to try out for the play? No that’s weird. Both heads turn towards me, and laughter erupts out of the two mouths. You know who you are), and you guys have talked shit about each other to me, so I can only imagine what has been said about me. I felt ashamed about my passions, the only personality trait you guys addressed was that I was so mean and I was smart (you only revealed the latter on in private, the former was told to everyone). I am done feeling horrible about myself because you guys are so wrapped up in what every (camp) boy thinks of you, so I am cutting contact. You have ruined my camp experience to the point where I am not coming back.

What are these acronyms?

[begitalarcos]

Hey Guys

Wow it's been quite some time. In regards to my last life post (that I don't remember making) but did happen and was very difficult to deal with all the fall out for like... more than a month after.

I'm sorry I left you all with that and then just disappeared again. Things have been weird the last couple months... to put it in simple words... shit sucks

The falling out with my daughter caused a huge rift between several people who (were not involved but still had a very loud opinion about things) and quite a few uncomfortable conversations.

I unfortunately started drinking as a way to deal with not dealing with things (I'm good now but I had about 3 weeks of just being smashed on the regular) and during that time I suffered an awful fall which resulted in me slipping a disc in my back. Possibly 2 of them but I've had such a hard time dealing with doctors lately that no one in the medical field has been particularly helpful. So I've been living off a cocktail of painkillers for almost 2 months now (which I hate), I was going to physio but then my insurance decided not to cover my sessions until I could PROVE I was actually hurt.

Tomorrow I go for an assessment with a new doctor to try and get my insurance to cover treatment again, my MRI isn't even until August of next f*cking year. -_-

Our healthcare system is an absolute joke right now.

On top of being in CONSTANT pain (not being able to sit or lie down for very long either cuz I lose feeling in my legs) my daughters disability/mental health program has decided to just... not help anymore until she gets a new assessment. Even though its been almost 3 years and she's still on a waiting list for an adult psychiatrist.

So the last week or so now everyone is coming back to me to try and fix/smooth things out again (after I was basically pushed out of her life because I was "making shit up" and "didn't actually care" and apparently was just being a control freak) and no one has apologized for the way they treated me or forced me out of helping my own kid. Nope. They just expect that now that she has no financial coverage that I should be the one to speak for her again cause they have no idea what to do. -_-

My husband has been solid thankfully, even though his relationship with Sassy has suffered so much because of the people around her who have influenced her... not always for the better. But I at least have maintained a sense of control in a way that's worked for me.

I told everyone who has given me grief for the past couple years about Sassy (including Sassy) that if I am going to advocate for her and get this stuff sorted out that I'm doing it my way, and if I get any push back or flack from anyone - then I'm done. They can figure it out themselves and I wash my hands of it all.

My husband thinks I shouldn't have gotten involved again at all, but I know (and I knew things were gonna blow up eventually) if I don't fix this... its gonna become my problem again anyways.

This past month or so I've had some really good breakthroughs with my therapist about my toxic coping skills, people pleasing and lack of boundaries with family members.

I feel better about things though than I ever have and now that I am standing firm with my boundaries and my convictions its been much easier for me to deal with any gaslighting or potential drama that people have tried to start up with me.

I know this got super long winded and I didn't intend for it to be as rambling and trauma dumpy as it was but - it is good to get things out and clear the air. As I feel like I sort of left an air of weirdness here for quite sometime.

Working on getting back to the things that I enjoy and stop becoming immersed in other peoples drama and things that I can't change.

I've missed you guys and crikey has Tumblr changed since I've been away. But I'm hopeful and I look forward to getting back into fandoms and gif sets and all those things I loved so much again <3

much love to you all

B

[polarisbibliotheque]

So like, less of a suggestion and more of a question - I recently found your works and have just been blown away by the details (like, seriously, you're on the top of my favorite writers list) and just how... perfect you craft everything? I genuinely inspire to be like you, but the problem is that I've hit a rut - I'm super unsatisfied with my writing, and whenever I try to get back into the writing zone, I just fall flat. Is there any advice you could give on how to improve one's writing? What would be your tips and tricks at getting into that writing zone?

(Do apologize me taking SO LONG to answer, but I had some health emergencies the last couple of weeks and ended up in the hospital – I’m doing better now, chilling at home and trying to recover. My doctor is 90% sure I have Crohn’s Disease and I’m having many ups and downs trying to find a proper treatment that I seem to respond to. BUT…)

…I hope you are aware of how much you made me smile, blush and almost indulge into my teary eyes upon reading this. Hahahaha seriously, thank you SO much!! I can’t even thank you enough, I’m just in pure awe that another being in this big ol’ world we live in thinks so highly of my writing!!

I mean, not even I think that highly of my writing. Notice a pattern? ;)

One thing I learned being an artist – not only writing, I also draw, play the piano, write music on my free time/when inspiration hits, everything creative, I’m there, doing it – is that we’re never really satisfied with our work. We will always think we could’ve done something better, and we’re definitely going to be pretty “meh” about a lot of things we do – even when other people think it’s a masterpiece.

And that is good! We’ll always strive to perfect our skills! You just have to remember to appreciate the work you do even when you’re not completely satisfied with it. You will get to where you want to – but then, you’ll wish to improve even more! And that is awesome!

But hey, I do have some tips and tricks on improving and getting into that writing vibe!

For the people getting to the party now, my main tip on improving is here, in the first part of the answer for this ask! Now, now…

(long post below, as expected YEE BEEN WARNED!)

Regarding improving:

Read. A. Lot. Hahaha I know that’s quite an obvious one, but it’s really important. Personally, I think reading mindlessly just to fill a quota of “I read 25 books a month” doesn’t work. It works when you absorb it – when you allow yourself to plunge into the world of the book you’re reading, feeling the characters, the emotions, the settings… That helps you build your “mental library” so to speak! And sometimes you’ll find things and expressions you like that you might use both on your daily speech and while writing – for instance, I have this awful thing of saying “there’s a lack of wings to my words” whenever I’m speechless, because of Homer’s Odyssey. I freaking LOVE that book, I loved that expression, I use it all the time, and it has definitely bled into my writing.

WRITE! A LOT! Write bad stuff, good stuff, short 2 pages thing-ys that you go “hey that’s a good idea!” but you’ll never actually turn into a full story, random scenes, fanfiction, stupid fanfiction, serious fanfiction, self-indulgent stories, stories for your family, stories for yourself, stories for whoever wants to read or not, dreams that could be great stories… The point is to write. It’s much like drawing or playing the piano: if you don’t practice, you won’t get better and you won’t develop your style. The more you practice, the better you get! So don’t be afraid to write bad stuff, cringy stuff, or ridiculous stuff – or even stuff you thought would be awesome and turns out bad, or stuff you think will never turn into anything that turn amazing! One way or another, you’ll be refining your craft!

Identify what you like on writers you admire. I started noticing that while reading The Silmarillion. The Lord of the Rings is my favorite book since I read it for the first time when I was 15, but I didn’t pick up The Silmarillion until I was around 22 – and by then, I started underlining with a light pencil all the phrases I liked most, something my mom did on her old books when she was around my age. I then started taking a look at what I liked about Tolkien’s writing so much – and in other books too: what kind of phrases seemed to resonate more with my soul. Which ones brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my face. And then I notice I tend more to the unconventional ways of describing things.

For instance, instead of going like “she was beautiful, with pale skin under raven dark hair, blue eyes shining on her fair face” I tend to go for the unconventional, sort of eerie, not so much taken for granted kind of describing “her beauty glowed like the first pale star to glisten in the evening sky, under a deep sea of dark, velvety hair, making her eyes twinkle like sapphires with a smart look while carrying the light she kept in her soul”. If I had to, the second one would be how I’d describe Arwen or Lúthien, giving them that ethereal otherworldly beauty they have. It's also the one that evokes more feelings inside of me rather than just a mental image.

That’s why I try to describe some things in a different light. When I’m writing, I want people to feel something – but how can you describe that feeling of joy when you hug someone you love and the whole world fades for a minute? That’s when I go for the “his heart bled with gold while his hands never wanted to let them go. For a minute, time seemed to stop and there was nothing else but his heartbeat intertwining with theirs, beating as the same song – even if theirs was more melodic while his was more melancholic. It was that kind of tune that made his lungs not remember how to breathe and his eyes pour – while his lips reflected all the gold that cascaded from his heart.” It’s a quick (rather ridiculous) example, but I do think about some things: how when I feel like that, I tend to have a hard time breathing and I do cry, but it’s because I want to smile so much I cannot contain it. Then I try to describe those feelings with metaphors and poetic stuff because I’m a melodramatic bitch.

Jokes aside, it’s because I like that sort of writing that has that beauty behind it – or more of a melancholic approach. It’s what resonates the most with me and I adopted it, even if sometimes it feels too… Abstract. I like that ability of people piecing the abstractness together and having their own interpretation – and that’s what makes people have different feelings while reading the same thing.

Is this for everyone? Absolutely not. I bet some people despise all that poeticness I like to put on words to lace them like a painting, you know? So, the more you re-read the things you like, you’ll start identifying what resonates with you and you can apply that to your own writing!

And that doesn’t mean you’ll have to be locked on that writing style as well. I’m currently trying to finish a book (I hope someday I can publish it) which is a cyberpunk style story, with lots of inspiration from Cyberpunk 2077, Blade Runner, John Wick (yes, Keanu Reeves sends his regards) and all that poetic writing doesn’t quite fit there. I’m using more of a direct approach, but there’s a lot of existentialism and reflecting on overcoming grief, trauma, owning your own life and contemplating one’s own mortality – and that’s where that poetic, metaphoric, melancholic, bittersweet characteristic of my writing style comes into play. And then everyone starts cursing and shooting each other again :)

Having a style doesn’t mean getting stuck in it – it means knowing when and where to use it!

Now regarding getting into the writing zone:

I freaking ADORE music and it helps me A TON while I’m writing. It’s like setting the mood. I’m trying to be sexy, or mysterious, or having that vampire-y vibe? Depeche Mode playlist it is. Fight scenes? Metal and Electronic. I need to freaking focus and get to work without thinking too much about the music (or start dancing like crazy whenever a song I love comes in and there I am, dancing and singing in my room at 3 a.m)? Piano playlists – classic, modern, everything and anything, as long as it is piano.

Playing music that goes with what I’m writing also helps. For my cyberpunk book, for instance, I put on the Cyberpunk 2077 OST playlist/radio on, or I search for “Cyberpunk Ambience/Playlist” on Youtube and let it roll while I write. For my King Arthur stories (yes, still working on them), I put on Celtic music compilations, Enya, Loreena McKennitt or the piano playlists. For my vampire stories, be the medieval or the near-future one, dark piano, Dark Wave, etc. Perhaps searching for that one playlist that has to do with your story setting and listening to it for some time might get you in the zone!

I also usually write deep in the night. Because I’m a spawn of Dracula. After everyone at home has gone to sleep, I make myself some hot tea, sit on my computer, start listening to music and write. That’s because I know I won’t be interrupted, and I can do just that. Sometimes, I start writing at 1 a.m, other times earlier, other times later. Try to notice when your ideas seem to flow better and when you get more into the zone – but please, don’t be unhealthy as I am and go to sleep at a decent hour. I’m not an example here with my sleeping schedule hahahaha

Cringy moment: when I’m stuck, I act the last scene I wrote as one of my characters in the shower and, usually, ideas start to come in (and I have to get off the shower). Hahahaha now that’s just a weird one, but I have NO idea why, my best ideas arise in the shower. Water has a weird effect on me, so sometimes I just stand there with warm water pouring over my head and, lo and behold, I’m exiting the shower in a hurry because I just got my writer mood back HAHAHA so maybe some very mundane activity – like cooking, taking the trash out, cleaning the room – might be where your writer brain will come to life. You never know.

Needless to say, I talk to myself a lot, sometimes as if I’m talking to the characters. That is a very bad coping mechanism I developed when I was being bullied at school – I used to pretend Dante was with me when I was alone or something had happened and I needed someone by my side, so nowadays I have a very easy time writing this man. I started doing that with some of my characters, and that goes for repeating lines or part of the stories I’m writing to see if I can get un-stuck. It’s not the greatest of things, but it works. My neighbors might think I’m crazy, though xD

When I’m completely unmotivated or I keep staring at the blank page without being able to write, I try to immerse myself in what I’m writing about. So, if I’m stuck on my cyberpunk book, I watch some Cyberpunk 2077 let’s plays, I re-watch the Edgerunners anime, I re-watch Blade Runner, I re-read some parts of Do Androids Dream of Electrical Sheep? or I, Robot, I listen to Blade Runner’s soundtrack, I even try to play Cyberpunk 2077 (while praying not to get motion sickness or not having my pc exploding from overworking). If I’m stuck on my King Arthur works, then I re-watch the 2004 movie (may the gods bless Ioan Gruffudd and his wonderful Lancelot and Mads Mikkelsen as my beloved Tristan), re-read the 3 books on the Chronicles of Arthur series, listen to some Celtic music, research Arthurian stories for hours on the internet, search for my encyclopedias at home to see if they have something on King Arthur, read obscure translated manuscripts from ancient times on it … So, immersing yourself on reading, researching, listening to music, watching movies, playing videogames, listening to stories, watching series, reading mangas, watching anime, documentaries, going to the movies, basically doing anything that has to do with the theme you’re writing, may get you in the mood. Next time you sit down to write, it might flow wonderfully!

I don’t force myself to write, though. If I do, I usually can’t write a single decent word and I’ll hate it. If things aren’t flowing – and this I learned with my mom, who also draws – I leave it for a while and go do something else. Maybe I’ll have some warm tea, or watch a completely unrelated movie, or read my current book, or talk to my parrot in the kitchen, play some piano, draw a little, or just take a good nap. My mom says it refreshes the head and the eyes, and when you come back to it, you’ll be a lot more inclined to find things that weren’t working and let those creative juices flow.

I also have a very weird search history and I’m not ashamed of it. All writers do, and it’s better to have a weird search history than not knowing what you’re talking about, honestly. And sometimes, researching takes a lot more time than writing and might get you motivated – time spent learning is never wasted. Even if you’re learning what kind of dates grow in Greece and are offered to Apollo (bless his heart).

Sometimes, I write something completely unrelated, with a very different theme, and stupidly goofy – and that gets me back to the writing vibes. Sometimes there’s just this need of writing something for the sake of writing, and you just want something foolish to make you smile like a goof. It’s valid and it might be your ticket out of writing-rut-land.

Now some little uncalled for advices:

I spent too long being self-conscious and too serious about it. If it’s not your style, don’t force it. Some people need structure, other people thrive in chaos – know what’s your style and go for it. I hate planning novels, for example. But I will outline the main points of the story and the ending – the rest, well, the characters have to show me whatever else they’re doing, and I have to go with it. Sometimes there are huge arcs I didn’t plan as a main point of the story, but they pop up in the middle of it and they are important – I like leaving that room for impromptu writing/creating. So, find out how it works for you, not how it works for everyone else.

You don’t have to create masterpieces right at the first time you’re writing. Take my King Arthur thing-y for example. I wrote the full story when I was 15. When I was in college, I decided to re-write it. And then, when I was at work, I decided to re-write the re-write. And now, I just took all my files, read them, thought about it all, outlined a whole new story and decided to write anew. Not re-write, but take all that work and write as if I had never written anything before – in the original file, the main characters were 15 years old and in school, now they have their jobs at Universities and work on the secret society that is now a lot more fleshed out and built with loads of new characters around (including a new one I created yesterday after months not thinking about it).

If I hadn’t written the Twilight-sort of embarrassing thing when I was 15, I wouldn’t have this whole universe, characters and story to build upon nowadays. It wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was a good idea – and I’ll keep working on it until I’m happy with it. It’s been 13 years I’m working on it now, maybe when it reaches its 15th anniversary, I’ll be able to finally let it see the light of day!

Don’t listen to the “NEVER DO THIS!!” advices. Seriously. Writing is a form of art – and, as in all art, there isn’t a right or wrong. By all means, see what people are saying it’s bad and you should never do – I watch and read those advices so I can learn to be better too! – but don’t take it to heart. As Captain Barbossa would say, it’s more of a guideline than rules set in stone. Sometimes, something people say you should NEVER EVER do is something that works perfectly fine for you and your style of writing. Learn to make up your own mind: learn new things, listen to advices, but absorb those that resonate with you and leave those that don’t. That’s how you create your own opinion about things and how you find your writing style!

One fun thing to point out on this as an example: me, my mom, my sister and my dad ADORE reading. My sister loves Jane Austen, my mom is a super fan of Dostoyevsky and Russian literature, while my dad lives for Isaac Asimov and all things sci-fi. I love sci-fi, my mom can’t stand it. I read Dante’s Inferno in a week and my mom couldn’t get past the first verses. My sister can’t read poetry at all and is terribly bored by Lord of the Rings. My dad read my Chronicles of Arthur books and even told me to buy the complete the series. Me and my sister enjoyed Khaled Hosseini’s books a lot, but my mom never felt like reading them.

All of this to say: it’s not a matter of who’s more intellectual than the other, it’s a matter of who likes which kind of literature and writing styles. Some people are more comfortable with one way of writing or a certain kind of literature and can’t stand others – and that’s ok. Writing is pretty much the same. THERE ARE NO FIXED RULES! BE A REBEL!

If it helps you: character sheets. Around 8 years ago – or more – I searched and searched online for the character sheet that could help me the best. I had never done it before and thought it was quite useless, until I downloaded one and started filling the infos on my main characters of my Arthurian sort of story. Lo and behold, they became SO MUCH BETTER and that’s when I started rewriting everything: I understood all characters a LOT better and made better decisions when writing them. It doesn’t work for everyone, though, but it’s a lot of fun for me. Currently, I don’t use it much because I now know what are the main things I need for my characters to seem alive, but it’s always nice to have a reference when you’re writing.

My cyberpunk story, for instance, it has A BUNCH of characters with scars, different hair colours, different eye colours, the way they dress, birthmarks, cyber-implants, cyber-prothesis, dressing styles… And sometimes I get lost in it. So it’s nice keeping a character sheet when I go like “wait, she has burn marks on the left arm or the right arm…?”

And keeping a file on worldbuilding might be helpful as well. I noticed that writing my cyberpunk thing. The first thing I wrote was a huge file explaining the city, the factions, the districts, people’s styles, who are the viruses, the sub-types of viruses, the political parties, the police and secret police, the difference between artificials and organics, how does access to the world works, what is the Ocularis system, the most important corporations, their names, their owners… And all those things will probably never appear on this story.

But I felt a HUGE difference. Instead of info-dumping right at the beginning to make the reader understand how the world is built and how it works, I started it right at an important point in the story. No one knows anything about how things work, but, as the characters speak to each other, they talk about so many things that the reader catches things and pieces together how all things are organized.

Don’t try to explain everything. Tying with I said before, if you have a very good idea of how things work, how the characters relate to each other, how they react and how they think, you won’t need to info-dump. I usually think I’m seeing my characters going about their day and that is ALL I’m describing: what they are saying, feeling, thinking and doing. If I feel something is missing for people to fully understand, then I add something quite minimal to help. But I don’t overexplain: people are intelligent and they can piece things together.

Don’t go full Marvel movies and explain everything as if no one can understand unless you say it. Go Nolan and try to make people understand with images, feelings, glances, metaphors and such. It’s very effective in writing! (Don’t get me wrong, I do like Marvel movies, but they have become those kinds of movies that require little mental effort because literally everything will be explained in a huge monologue or through dialogue. You don’t always need dialogues – and if you say “oh that’s too ambiguous and people won’t be certain about it” that’s the beauty of art: it’s always up to interpretation)

Having someone to read and give you feedback might be very helpful too. I have a few friends every now and then I send some of my stories so they’ll read and give me an honest feedback. I try to listen to their opinions and refine my work – but if I think they critique doesn’t make sense, I thank them anyway and keep on doing my thing. Like I said, know when to take what makes sense and when let go of something that doesn’t. Also: feedback is NOT a personal attack. DON’T TAKE IT TO HEART. See it always as something you may need to improve – and you’ll improve quicker.

At the end of the day, writing is art. And all art is relative.

Your art will be great to some and horrible to others – and that’s ok! Again, learn to NOT make it personal (the critiques, I mean, because art is always personal and that’s wonderful, I think).

And repeat after me: you will not please everyone. The point is to make yourself proud. You’ll find your people along the way.

Do it because you love. Do it because it comes from your heart, from your soul. The world has become so filled with content, mindlessly created by artificial intelligence so we will keep consuming, that things have lost so much of their soul.

To make art, to write, is to have soul. If you have that heart, that passion in your work, it will show – and people will follow. When you sit to write, don’t make it a chore, don’t make it an aesthetic tiktok post, don’t follow the routine of this or that famous artist – do what you have to do and let your heart flow. Do it for you.

I think that’s the main advice I can give. Don’t do content to post on social media and look good, do your art. Push your boundaries, test new things, write in ways you never did before, but do your thing.

When everyone is doing the same thing over and over again, you’ll realize your words will stand out by doing what you want to do.

Again thanks for attending my TED Talk xD

[celestialtarot11]

Babydoll I’m coming in with my two parts🩷🩵 you mentioned spooky stories before and to add our own, so here I am. Although mines not about spirits or any demonic creatures, I think it still could be described as something lowkey outta this world. I am interested in spirituality and witchcraft and have been aware of casting spells without being aware of doing so. Listened to way too many stories of people being victims of love spells and curses. And as we all know, evil spirited people are around us. That’s why last year I did a protection spell on myself. To keep me away from all the evil and to make me more aware when something is just not right. And I told people about it. Everybody laughed because spells. “You should pray” yada yada yada. I set intentions to the universe every single time I burn incense to keep me safe and protected. Early this year I started noticing a certain patern with a person I considered my best friend. We are talking about years of friendship. First, I started to notice how critical of others she is. She would see a TEENAGE GIRL with a crop top and call her an attention whore. A random kid. And this would happen other times too. She would be critical towards people who somehow resembled me in a way. Then, she would openly say how unhappy she is for people in happy relationships. Like I understand being a little jealous someone is happily in love, but more in a “god I see what you did for others” way not I’m unhappy with my life and I will belittle others who live a better life or have something I don’t. This has been going on for around two months and talking to her was taking a toll on me. To the point of me having ZERO energy whenever I texted her. There was a moment, when I did shadow work on myself and decided to hold myself accountable and generally work on being a better daughter and a friend and a human being in general. My mental health got so much better, I was so happy with myself and my accomplishments and had a drive to start loving myself the way I deserve to. To actually allow myself to love me without feeling guilty. So I told her. I simply told her I’m happy with myself and I feel like my mental health is finally improving. That I’m fighting against my depression. Do you know what I heard from her? How miserable she is and how awful her life is. Like babe, I’m there for you but please be there for me too. So I turned and started being there for her again. Every happy moment of my life I shared with her, she wouldn’t even once say that’s she’s happy for me. Mind you, I didn’t win a lottery or even get a promotion. I was simply getting better mentally. When I would tell her about something that bothered me or I had a problem with, her problems were worse. She wouldn’t even ask. But she was so active when I said I was sad. it’s like it was giving her some sort of satisfaction. And it’s been like this every day. Thank god I didn’t see her for some time. But when i finally did, I felt like I aged a couple years. I was getting angry and annoyed when I looked at her and this never happened! We’ve hang out for a few hours and those hours were the worse time of this year for me. I felt physically exhausted and sick. And so I did my best to try and postpone the next meeting and to straight up ignore her messages. And so we didn’t talk for a week. I was back to my normal self. She messaged me again and we texted for some time. I was once again angry annoyed. But the worst thing is, I started getting blemishes all over my face. I healed my acne around that time and had a skin care routine that was going on for really long, so no way ma makeup or cosmestics did it to me. My diet did not changed one bit. And I looked like I had chickenpox. A week before, all my flowers at my office fucking rotted. They didn’t die. They were rotten. I’ve never seen anything like that before. And so I was on holidays crying because my face was fucked up. And instead of fading away it was getting worse and would itch more with every day. Two weeks. I had this for two weeks. Along with headaches.

No way girl—First of all, I’m sorry your growth was not celebrated in the ways you deserve to have it be. Its important to have friendship and those who want you to be well. Wishing anything less than that is harmful, and thats what she did. She may never have been direct, but her response was enough.

I would like to say: props to you for doing shadow work and taking accountability. You deserve recognition and to be appreciated.

I also have heard in the witchy community plants will die to absorb negative energy. Maybe thats what happened there! Your plant babies were protecting you :,) but I am sorry. Some peoples energies are truly like a poltergeist, it effects not just you but thats around you.

I really hope you cut her loose 🤍

[callmeghostly]

Okay, well this is going to be different from my horny weeb content but I don't know where else to post it...

TW: Mental Health discussions, trauma dumping (possibly), General Angst

if you are not in a good headspace to read this, don't. please - Take care of yourself, I'll be back to my regularly scheduled shit posting after this brief message.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay -

To make a long story short, I'm.. I don't know what is going on anymore. I feel like a shell of myself, an empty husk.

To clarify;

these last few months I have been back and forth about being an absolute shell of myself, In November I lost my job without any real reason - Not to worry though, I started a new job this past Tuesday, this will come back up later.

I also have been in a relationship for the last, almost 6 years (again, this comes into play shortly)

Now, none of you know who i am, or what I am like outside of this chaotic website, which is why I'm sharing it here. I have been slowing spiraling and I have no one to talk to about it so I'm going to scream it into the fucking abyss and hope that works.

This last week while it should've been happy and refreshing, has been absolute bullshit and hell in a handbasket. I've been feeling some type of way about my relationship for months now - Am i comfortable? you're supposed to feel like roommates after the initial honey moon phase, he's just not the affectionate type, Etc. The more time I spend online the more i don't find myself 'awwing' at couples, I feel jealous, unloved and unwanted - I'm 24, I should know that EVERYONE on the internet is only going to show the best side of themselves, and I do.. so I can't help but find myself confused over all of this. I've noticed I've pulled away from him, not becuase I want to necessarily. Heres the thing, I know he cares - He wouldn't have been there for me through half of the things he has been if not, but at this point I feel cared for - not loved, and only cared for out of obligation.

On top of this, I feel like my strongest assets are not knowing how to communicate with people effectively and by proxy, pushing those people away.

I feel like the fights I get into, both with my partner and my friends, are due to lack and breaks in communication in tone. Which is definitely something I need and am trying to work on.

In this last week I have gotten into, verbal disagreements we'll say, with two of the people in my life, on the same day and ever since then, I've been foggy mentally.

So, lets wrap back around -

I started my new Job this past Tuesday, it was fine - however due to my fucked sleep schedule from being out of work for 2 months I had been up since 12am and I had to set through training from 8:30-5. I was fucking tired and ready to just crash, however that same night content that I had been waiting on dropped, now something to note - My partner and I have a 2 bedroom apartment, one we use as an office- I get very loud and obnoxious when I see things I enjoy, which he doesn't like to listen to me scream (which is fair) so I told him, possibly rather harshly to admit my own fault, to give me a few minutes becuase I knew I'd be screaming (from excitement) or he could put his headset on, and That pissed him off and other than some hurtful words we didn't talk much therefore ruining both any appetite or enjoyment for the content I was watching, never the less I tried to do both and regardless, my night was soured regardless.

Moving forward from that, I trauma dump on one of my friends - she was so gracious to listen and I would like to be clear, I am in no way trash talking her or this situation. I know she may see this (If you do, Hi I love and appreciate you, I promise) I just... Need to frame the situation. She listened, gave me advice and tried to make me feel better, in turn I came across as an absolute dick, misreading a conversation and upsetting her causing her to log off for the night.

5 days later, I can't shake either of these incidents and to them, life is back to normal, and here I am - Screaming at strangers on the internet for someone to care.

I don't know what to do, I feel like a cornered animal with no outlet or way way of escape - I just, I want to fall in love with being alive again and I feel like that is the worlds hardest ask - I'm slowly shutting myself out and down..

There is no way to wrap this up peacefully, light heartedly, or humorously. There are so many other things I could add to this, and while no one is going to read this - It's gone on for long enough. So, I'll end it here.

Moral of the story; Take care of yourself, try to love yourself first and maybe things will turn out okay for you.

to whoever may see this, I'll always be here for you all if you need someone to that, I promise.

Sincerely,

Ghostly

[swampythesweetsketch]

For context.

I'm 25 now.

I had plans to do things for a week. My birthday day was Monday.

The week was supposed to also double as a mental health week.

Because last year for my 24th, my mom "kidnapped" me and took me to a city I didn't want to be in just so we can see Weird Al live.

I love Weird Al. I cannot handle concerts.

I had issues with my body as well, even before being dragged into a people-heavy area.

Funny enough, the big rule for the concert was to be clear of covid.

I caught Covid and lost almost a month of work. During my time quarantined, I was miserable and was becoming heavily depressed. When I was cleared and could go back to work, I promised myself that I wouldn't let a repeat happen.

Well it wasn't a repeat this year. But it's been awful.

I don't care if I sound like a ass. I'm tired. It's Wednesday.

I was supposed to have fun on Monday, I worked all day instead and came home to my mom trying to kiss my butt and convince me to order pizza cause she wanted pizza. Instead, she made porkchops and I had none cause my lunch was interrupted so many times while working, and I lost my appetite at the end of the day.

Tuesday I wanted to go to a farmers market in town, and even without telling my family, my mom took my dad out for an appointment. Okay.

And today I'm back at work.

Then she came back and left for a town visit. Then came back and left for... ???. Then again. And again. By the time they got back, the farmer's market would end in a half hour, it'd take me a half hour to get there. I gave up and tried being nice to myself and did some work around my room and felt empty.

Reason they kept leaving?

"Oh, Swampy can watch the puppy while we go."

I was supposed to be able to look at some coworkers to cover my shifts for a couple days. I don't work a normal retail job. I work for the elderly and clean/cook for them.

I'm tired. I'm so tired.

I'm already halfway through my shift with my first client. They let me go when I finish everything. And I'll have to go to another client in a while and stay until 5 cause they want me to stay until their other workers confirms they're actually coming to help them. And they've had so many people drop them. It's only me and maybe 1-2 other people helping them.

On top of today, one of my appointments got canceled.

Would I really be in the wrong at this point to disappear for a day?

I've been doing this job since the pandemic started and haven't stopped. My last birthday wasn't what I wanted to do, it's what my mom wanted. And I hated the aftermath of that mess.

Is it normal to want to cry on/around your birthday?

[jungkook97]

life update!

i feel like i haven’t done a long essay about my current life in a very long time (~mid 2019 i feel) and i just wanna pop in and say....YO

so idk how many people are still active on here who used to read my really dark stuff, but it’s been a wild rollercoaster since then. for anyone who followed me on twt, i got fired from one of my jobs back in 2020 during the start of the pandemic and fell in one of the darkest holes i ever been in. mind you, this job meant the world to me at the time, and for a week i laid in bed all day just sobbing to anyone who would lend an ear. 

i had lost a core group of friends on top of realizing i was being sexually harassed at work by a fling gone wrong + being in a horrific car accident like...things weren’t really panning out for two whole years. i was wondering if i had made the right choice to move out here from my abusive home because i kept being thrown into situations where i was in danger or overextended myself over and over again for people who did not care. it was getting to the point where it was a vicious and endless cycle of hurt and pain that actually persisted until a few months ago. 

my depression fell below my time back home in 2016/17 to where i started to spiral to the point where i had serious suicide ideation. that ideation turned into planning, and that was truly when i went to go seek help immediately after it happened a second time in the span of a year. lasted 10 whole days in the hospital and found out i had borderline personality disorder which made 100% so much more sense. i knew i was neurodivergent for a while, but i never could piece what i had for the longest.

anyway, i continued therapy with this new diagnosis. 2021 was my first year of healing and coming into the second half of 2022, i really can’t recognize myself and where i had been for the past couple of years. i truly wonder if i really made it out officially, but i can confidently say that i’m in such a better place than i ever had been. 

for the longest, i struggled with identity, depression, anxiety, toxic relationships, overextending myself for others, people pleasing, you name it. i had so many realizations and wakeup calls ever since my late teens and into my early 20s. i remember sobbing uncontrollably on my 25th birthday on a therapist’s couch just suffering from complex ptsd, the days i spent crying in my backstock room because of my situation at my job at the time, the nights i felt wickedly lonely in a room filled with people who didn’t care, etc. i lost an awful amount of friends and loved ones and yet, i still gained so many and still feel so loved right now.

my family and i have been healing. for the first time, my dad told me he was proud of me and my achievements and my mom and i hashed out so much in our talks in the recent months. my brother and i aren’t doing so hot, but i still got a lifetime with him to figure it out hopefully. 

right now, i live in my own place on my own without much worry about making ends meet or dealing with anybody who i couldn’t vibe with entirely. my friendship circles are rock solid and i’ve been looking at romance in a much more nuanced and balanced way. i realized my views on love changed a lot when my crushes both irl and celebrity are genuinely fucking great people and it’s only a matter of time when i am ready to date someone who matches my life path and grow with me. 

i’ve been well aware of my mental health issues, going to therapy, eating better, taking my days and time off and refocusing on what really matters to me. i realize i create and communicate things well and yeah doubts still form, but i feel more and more confident by the day that fuck, i am a talented, intelligent, beautiful fucking person who deserves the universe and all the universes. 

i’m deeply empathetic and no longer at a fault anymore, i’ve became more selfish, and my passions are lining up perfectly. i work at a job that challenges me with management and coworkers who genuinely care, i graduated with a degree in what i was deeply passionate about, and i participate in communities that really fulfill my needs. i have boundaries now that come up fast and protect me from so much potential harm. i stand up for myself more than ever before, louder and more convincing. 

there are so many things i need to work on ofc. i do need to be more bold and be more uncomfortable to be even more spectacular. i still need so much help with the work/life balance thing and not give in to #capitalism and work hustle culture. the self doubts of an ambitious and overachieving human being still linger on, which you know, is typical when ur filling in big shoes all your life lol

i want to create more coming into the second half of 2022 and really until the next decade. i’m seeing more people just having their life together whether it’s finding the love of their life, being able to travel and have such an amazing lifestyle, even more than i am and fuck, i wanna be there! i know i’m getting there. 

i truly made the best choices for me until this point in time. when i put myself first in those certain awful core memories of mine, my life changed for the better: 

got fired at a job? got a much better job. 

friends and family who didn’t care? cut them off and never looked back. 

lost interest in something from time and trauma? healed and got back into it even DEEPER.

wanted a better life? kept fighting for it. 

i just know things are looking up and better. the worst i ever felt was having covid which was very recently and work burnout, but in terms of the trauma and the crippling depression? i think most of that is behind me right now, in the rearview mirror looking rather sad bc they’re being left behind for good.

all i hope is that it stays there. 

[thesibfiles]

Courtney going on tour right after?

Theres a misconception that after Kurts death, Courtney went straight on tour right away. This is false. The album was already set to release a few days after and they couldnt change that on such a short notice. Promotion for the album was cancelled and she pushed back the tour 4 months.

“Live Through This was supposed to provide Love an opportunity to step out from her famous husband’s shadow. “It’s annoying now, and it’s been annoying for nine years, Love said in a 1999 Jane Magazine interview of always being connected to Cobain. Released four days after Cobain’s body was found, the album’s promotion was put on hold. Rather than retreat from the public eye, Love openly mourned and helped fans of Cobain and Nirvana make sense of the singer’s death. She sat with grieving teenagers gathered outside the couple’s Seattle home and recorded a reading of parts of his suicide note that was played at the singer’s memorial that gathered near the Space Needle. In the days following his death, Love showed a very raw and emotional side and admitted that, like many fans, she didn’t have all the answers. 

It was, and still is, impossible for people to discuss Live Through This without noting the irony of the album’s title. Love has said the name was not a prediction at all, but instead a reflection of all she had endured in the months leading up to its release, including a very public custody fight with the Los Angeles Department of Family Services over daughter Frances Bean. Rumors suggested that Cobain had written much of Live Through This (it’s Miss World, not Mister, just FYI). “I’d be proud as hell to say that he wrote something on it, but I wouldn’t let him. It was too Yoko for me. It’s like, ‘No fucking way, man! I’ve got a good band, I don’t fucking need your help,’” was Love’s response to critics in Spin’s oral history of Live Through This. Love and Cobain often shared notebooks and lyrics with each other, and while there is talk of Cobain’s influence on Love’s work, or the writing of all of it, less is mentioned in the press of her impact on his lyrics and music. Rather than sucking all the life out of Nirvana or threatening the success of the band, like many assumed she would do, she inspired Cobain. Fun fact: In Utero, Nirvana’s last album, was named after a line from one of Love’s poems.

Sadly, songwriting rumors would be replaced by other rumors. Women are often vilified and condemned for the deaths of their male partners. Love, like all women, was supposed to save her partner from death and addiction. Fans of Cobain projected all their anger and resentment over the loss of the Nirvana front man onto Love, and soon she was blamed for not only his addiction but also his death. There are even two movies devoted to the theory that Courtney killed Kurt: the awful Soaked in Bleach (2015) and the equally awful Kurt & Courtney (1998). If you think we’ve come a long way, baby, sadly we haven’t. 

One year after Anthony Bourdain’s death, Asia Argento is still being blamed, and in September 2018, Ariana Grande had to take a break from social media after fans blamed her for the death of her ex Mac Miller. A few months later, she would be blamed for new beau Pete Davidson’s mental health and addiction issues. It’s amazing she finds the time to write hit songs what with all the dude destruction she has going on. When women are not being blamed for the deaths of the men in their lives, they are being attacked for not grieving properly. “She wasn’t crying. She’s got $30 million coming to her. Do you blame her for being so cool?” a hospital staffer said of Yoko Ono following John Lennon’s murder in 1980. 

About four months after Cobain’s death, Love went on tour to promote her new album. Some questioned and judged why she would go on tour so soon, but Love has said it was a necessity. She had a young daughter to support. She needed to work. She also, sadly, still needed to prove herself. “I would like to think that I’m not getting the sympathy vote, and the only way to do that is to prove that what I’ve got is real,” Love told Rolling Stone in 1994.

Twenty-five years later, Cobain’s death still hangs over Live Through This. In the days leading up to the anniversary of Cobain’s death, former Hole bassist Melissa Auf der Maur wrote an open letter to music magazine Kerrang saying she “would not stand for Kurt’s death overshadowing the life and work of the women he left behind this year.”

“We were extremely well designed for each other,” Love has said of her relationship with Cobain. In a letter reprinted in Dirty Blonde: The Diaries of Courtney Love, she calls him “my everything. the top half on my fraction.” The two had similar upbringings, both came from broken homes and spent childhoods shuttling between relatives and friends. They both grew up longing for love and acceptance. When we tell the story of Kurt and Courtney we talk about drugs and destruction, but we don’t talk enough about love.

The two also shared an intense drive and ambition. “I didn’t want to marry a rock star, I wanted to be one,” Love said in a 1992 Sassy interview. Evidence of her drive can be found in the many notes and to-do lists she kept, some of which are collected in Dirty Blonde. There are reminders to send her acting résumé to agencies, to write three to four new songs a week, to “achieve L.A. visibility.” A scene in the documentary Kurt & Courtney features an ex of Love’s reading from one of her to-do lists, which has “become friends with Michael Stipe” as the number one task to complete (not only did Love do this, but he is her daughter’s godfather). This ambition is not surprising from a woman who, when she was younger, mailed a tape of herself singing to Neil Sedaka in hopes of getting signed. Love knew what she wanted at an early age, and what she wanted was fame.

She was certainly living by the “do not hurt yourself, destroy yourself, mangle yourself to get the football captain. Be the football captain!” motto she championed in the 1995 documentary Not Bad for a Girl. Ambition is often a dirty word when it is used to describe women and Love is no exception. She has been repeatedly described as calculating and controlling when she should be rewarded for her blond ambition and viewed as an inspiration. Critics and the press often call her a gold digger who only married Cobain for fame and money. They fail to mention that when the two met Pretty on the Inside was actually selling more copies than Bleach, Nirvana’s debut album. Even post-Kurt, Love’s intentions were always under scrutiny. On the Today Show to do press for The People vs. Larry Flynt, Love refused to talk about her past drug use, despite the host’s repeated questions, saying the topic was not an appropriate fit for the show’s demographic. She was right, but it didn’t stop a writer from describing the move as “calculating” in a 1998 Spin piece.

Cobain was ambitious too; he was just much slyer and more secretive about it. He was known to call his manager and complain when MTV didn’t play Nirvana’s videos enough, and he would correct journalists who misquoted the band’s sales figures in interviews. While success is typically celebrated and rewarded for men and it certainly was for Cobain, he also had to be mindful of the slacker generation that loved Nirvana and greeted success — and especially mainstream success —

While female celebrities like Love are criticized for their rebellion, male celebrities, like Cobain for example, are celebrated and mythologized for it. Cobain and Love both struggled with addiction, but it is Love who is repeatedly vilified for her drug use. “She was vilified for being a mess, for being a drug addict, for not being a great parent — in other words, all of the things we expect in a male rock star,” said Bust magazine in a piece in the magazine’s 20th anniversary issue, which featured Love on the cover.

We make jokes about the drug antics of male celebrities from Keith Richards to Charlie Sheen, idolizing their debauchery and depravity. The new Netflix/Lifetime movie by Jack Daniels, The Dirt, about Mötley Crüe, takes the band’s excesses to almost comic levels. Check out crazy tourmate Ozzy Osbourne snorting a line of ants by a hotel pool! Such zany antics! I would love to see Lindsay Lohan try to get away with that. We never allow women to live down their arrests and their addictions, but we repeatedly allow men to have a redemption arc. Robert Downey Jr. was in and out of jail and on and off drugs for much of the mid to late ’90s, but we rarely, if ever, talk about his past.

When Love isn’t being attacked for her addiction issues, she is being judged for her parenting. Love’s first unflattering press was “Strange Love,” the much publicized 1992 Vanity Fair profile by Lynn Hirschberg. While the piece talks at length about Love’s drug use and constantly questions her parenting ability, it doesn’t paint Cobain in the same light. “It is appalling to think that she would be taking drugs when she knew she was pregnant,” says one close friend in the piece. Hirschberg relies on many unnamed sources and focuses often on the tabloid-like aspects of Love’s life and addictions. “Courtney has a long history with drugs. She loves Percodans (‘They make me vacuum’), and has dabbled with heroin off and on since she was eighteen, once even snorting it in Room 101 of the Chelsea Hotel, where Nancy Spungen died,” she writes. “Reportedly, Kurt didn’t do much more than drink until he met Courtney.” (Even when it is reported by Kurt and Krist that Kurt tried heroin in 1989, way before Courtney, It was also known that he smoked weed and used caugh syrup to get high in 1989 and 1990.)

This double standard was common in coverage of the couple. In Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck, the 2015 documentary by Brett Morgen, Love asks her husband, “Why does everyone think you’re the good one and I’m the bad one?” Later in the film we see a scene of Frances Bean’s first haircut. The child sits on Cobain’s lap while Love searches for a comb and scissors. The camera shows Cobain nodding off, and while he maintains that he is just tired, it’s clear he’s not. The scene is painful to watch, especially because those around Cobain carry on like nothing in wrong, giving the feeling this is just like any other day in the Love-Cobain household. The scene is a reminder of how the press treated Cobain’s addiction when he was alive. They just carried on like nothing was wrong, instead directing all their judgement at Love.

[mings]

Some context...

...in relation to that last post. This is a lo-o-o-o-ong read, so feel free to skip right by if catharsis bores you.

This starts way before I joined tumblr; in fact, long before tumblr was even a thing.

Twenty years ago, we lived in a huge house backing onto the English Channel. We moved there from Scotland, which turned out to be (probably) the biggest mistake of my life. 

Within nine months of buying the place, the company I’d moved to work for nearly folded. I and most of the workforce were made redundant. That set in motion an existential battle with our mortgage insurer, which refused to pay out because I “must have known” when taking out the insurance. (I didn’t, and they eventually caved in after destroying my credit record, but that’s another story.)

Work wasn’t immediately available; none that would at least cover the bills. We got inventive, wrote a business plan, obtained finance & bought a franchise. It went pretty well for the first three years, but we had to bust a gut to make the required income. It wasn’t easy. Eventually, the franchise operator messed up relations with several key players in our insurance market. Within three months, we lost 75% of our revenue. I had to close the workshop & find part time work to make ends meet. Ultimately, we decided to close the business, sell the house and downsize to something more manageable.

What’s the relevance of this? We tried hard to keep our precarious financial state form the kids. Maybe we didn’t do as well as we thought. Our son had already become withdrawn. He’d fallen in with a group of local lads about whom we had grave misgivings. Of course, there was no discussing it. We were “over-reacting” and unreasonable. It was around that time that he decided to jack in his education. I couldn’t criticise; I’d done the same. I pulled some strings and got him a job at our local Royal Mail delivery office.

We moved to our new place. It was a stressful move. Trying to fit into a house that was literally half the size was never going to be an easy task. One afternoon, our son came home from work and soon after announced he was going out. “See you later.” Only we didn’t. He didn’t come home that night. Nor did he turn up for work the next day. Nor the day after. And nor the day after that. Within a week he was written up for unauthorised absence. We had no way of contacting him. His case was heard in the following weeks. I could offer no mitigation. He was sacked for abandonment of duty. That tag that means he’ll never work for them again. 

We still had no idea where he was. We only knew he was alive because we met a couple of his friends who couldn’t believe he’d not been in touch. Still no word. My wife was in shreds; I suspect any of you who are parents can identify with that. I was alternating between trying to prop her up and stay on top of my job, all the while under a constant barrage of barracking (Oh, we don’t mean anything by it, it’s just banter....)

About three months in I’d had enough. Sleep was a scarce resource so I rose at the crack of dawn and started on a trip, rousting one after another of the friends and acquaintances that I knew, following leads until finally I tracked him down to a sordid bedsit several towns and 40 miles away. At least he answered the door and looked sheepish. He offered no explanation or apology, and has never done so to date. He refused to come back home, but promised to keep in touch. 

We know he bounced from one sofa to another in the next few months. He spent time in some of the worst areas in the county for drug abuse. He fell into a relationship with a girl that looked promising initially and subsequently fell apart. Later, he surfaced in another town with another girl whom he subsequently married. She often spoke of his irascible temperament and moods. Ultimately the marriage was doomed; she was younger than him, found a new interest and moved out. One wonders now how much of that was her and how much she’d put up with before voting with her feet.

He’s stumbled from one financial crisis to another. Money just evaporates. It’s as though adulting is a mystery beyond his reach. I’ve lost count of the times that we’ve thrown money at him and I don’t want to even think about how much. It’s literally thousands, always a loan, yet he never, ever pays back.

He left his job. That was inevitable too; he worked for his ex-father-in-law’s company. Heaven only knows how long the writing was on the wall; it was pretty swift once she left. He drifted again. He chose to live in a squalid flat with no heating rather than move back with us. Absolutely his choice, not ours. 

We moved to Scotland. That meant all his stuff had to go into storage. Quick rewind - he moved all his stuff to ours when he gave up the house he & his ex lived in, but refused to move back home. I had to rent a storage unit to make space for all his gear & when we moved I shifted all his gear into the store, gave him the key & told him I’d paid three months up front; after that it was his to deal with. Apparently, he surrendered the store and moved all his gear into the flat...

Fast forward to a couple of months back. He’d run out of options at the flat. His flatmate was “really difficult” to live with. His ex had moved away, taking their son with her. He had nothing left to stay for and, surprise, he’d lost his job again so he couldn’t afford the rent. 

My wife convinced me we should give him one last shot, citing his fragile mental health. I agreed on the strict understanding that we are simply no longer in a position to support him. He assured us he’d be applying for work as soon as he got here. We rarely see him before midday...

We agreed the end of the first week in March. We knew he’d arrive with a ton of stuff so we had (again) to create space. That’s infinitely more difficult now we’re running a B&B, but we set to the task. Suddenly, two weeks sooner than we’d agreed, he rented a van and was on his way. No discussion, no warning. We only found out because he put something on FB. 

Finally, after trying to reach him most of the day, he phoned. Whilst we should have been relieved, instead we were treated to a barrage of abuse because all the petrol stations were shut. Of course they were. It was in a national lockdown and why would they stay open when there was no one on the roads? JFC, who embarks on a journey in sub-zero temperatures across some of the most inhospitable country in the UK without enough fuel? With a six year old child. Yes, not only did he forget to tell us about his change of plans, he forgot to tell us he was bringing his son too.

We drove south through the night for two hours to find him somewhere in the Cairngorms where he’d run out of fuel. No fuel meant no heaters at 1500 feet in deep snow. The ambient temperature was -5ºC/23ºF & with wind chill that was probably around -10ºC/14ºF. We found him & refuelled his van. No thanks, just another barrage of abuse, because he was tired. We took his son into our car & drove the two hours back in near silence. I think we knew then that it was an awful predictor of what was to come.

We’ve had row after row. He accused me of being passive-aggressive in the last. He actually ticks all the boxes for passive-aggressive behaviour. I’ve never been tagged with that before; if anything I’m too forthright, blunt even. That’s a failing to which I will admit. If by that he meant that I don’t talk about the elephant in the room, it’s only because we fear it’ll lead to another explosion.

He never saw the damage that we sustained during our fostering years. He was never there. Yet here we are, experiencing flashbacks to those traumatic incidents; the parallels are exact. We have the benefit of years of training. We recognise manipulative behaviour when we see it - we were trained by some of the nations best exponents - and we know divisive tactics implicitly.  What he doesn’t know is that he will succeed only in pushing us closer together and alienating himself even further.

There are clear and well-documented links between cannabis and mental health issues. He is allowing the drug to determine his life choices. Although I may be wrong, I think he’s cultivating skunk, which is nothing like the weed that circulated in my youth. The smell that pervades our hallway is instantly evocative of high strength Afghan resin. It’s also going to be acutely difficult to eradicate before we’re due to open.

We’ve endured 20 years of this treatment. I know that even if we have a ritual burning, it will only be a matter of time before we’re back here again. We’re old. We’re tired. And we’ve worked our socks off (and still do) to achieve what we have. Maybe somewhere along the way we missed something. But I’m at a stage where I’m so far beyond this I just want it to stop.

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 06 (knj)

Chapter 6: Garlic Pasta and I Miss You-s

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon visits his parents and Yoongi and Y/N bond over their past.

word count- 4.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, slightly smutty, strangers2lovers

warnings- drinking, talk of mental health and panic attacks, violence, blood, stalker

a.n- sorry for this chapter being late! i had major burn out this last few weeks but I finally got it out. Tell me what you think!

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

“I hate you Kim Namjoon! Get out!”

Namjoon looks at you with an amused smile as he drops his bags at the door of your bedroom. You’re sitting in your bed, your comforter fully around you, even on top of your head, as you loudly blow your nose, some show blaring on the television. Even though he feels bad about passing on his cold to you, he can’t help but find your red nose and whining adorable. The past few months since Namjoon returned from tour had been few of the best you’d had in Korea. Although you both still had remarkably busy schedules, you had found a routine of spending time together at least once a week, usually ending your Saturdays together to spend as much of the Sunday together as possible. It didn’t matter how you spent your time, whether it was spent going out on dates or sitting silently reading or cuddling, all that mattered was that you were together.

“Aw baby, I’m sorry!” He sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your burittoed body. He kissed all over your face obnoxiously, much to your chagrin as you groaned and tried to get him off you, worried to get your snot on him. “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll cancel going to my parents and stay here to take care of you!” He punctuated that with another kiss on your lips. Hey, he’d already suffered through this cold, might as well take advantage of being able to be near you now.

“No! Shut up! You’re not cancelling.” Since things were slower at work, the company had decided to give Namjoon and the boys the week off. He had spent the first day with you, going to the most recent Ji Hye Yeom exhibit yesterday, and was going to go visit his family for the next four days. When Namjoon told you he was planning to spend the majority of his vacation with his parents, he was bracing himself for a negative reaction, a learned response from his previous relationship. His ex would always hate that he would visit his family for extended periods when he got time off and wouldn’t prioritize his relationship with her. He was surprised and relieved to hear you not only excited that he was visiting family but encouraging him to spend more time, upping his initial ask of two days to four. He liked that you always encouraged him to call his mom when he was on tour, as did his mom, so much so that she had started to say ‘my beautiful daughter’ whenever she referred to you in front of him.

Namjoon stood up as he watched you rant about the importance of visiting family, one arm out from your duvet heaven as you waved it about to emphasize your points. He almost giggled at how endearing you looked sniffling through your tirade, hair a mess and voice a little hoarse. Taking off his jeans to get comfortable, he chuckled at your wide eyes and dramatic gasp.

“No! We’re not having sex right now you maniac!” You whine as you lie down with the covers over your head. Namjoon gets into bed, pulling the comforter from over you to sneak inside, his arms snaking around your grumbling form to pull him to his chest. Although you complained, you snuggled into him, feeling the safe comfort that only Namjoon provided you.

“I just wanna nap with you before I leave.” He kissed the top of your head as he tangled your legs with his. You poked your head up from where it was hiding in his chest to look up at his smiling face as he cupped your cheek to place a chaste kiss on your lips. Caressing the skin once he leans away, he looks at you adoringly.  “Sorry for getting you sick, baby.”

———————————-

“Your boyfriend is a tyrant. Please never get sick again.” Yoongi took off his beanie and mask and shook his head to fluff his hair as you went through your phone to finish placing the order for takeout. After talking to Namjoon about how you had spent all of yesterday recovering, and even facetiming to ensure him that you were fit enough to be working again, he still didn’t believe you, forcing the only member of his band that was in Seoul during his vacation to make sure you were truly alright. You would be annoyed if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his overt concern. You were glad to spend time with Yoongi - he was pretty similar to you and you both had been slacking on hanging out lately. A few months ago you had decided to host a whiskey exchange where you would share bottles of your favourite liquor together, only for it to fall apart after two hangouts due to your busy schedules and Yoongi’s new relationship. It was nice to be in his company again, his mellow energy a great contrast to your usually loud friends.

“What did he say?” You question, laughing. Yoongi had called Namjoon many funny nicknames before but hearing him call him a tyrant made you laugh, picturing your boyfriend getting stern and demanding someone pay you a visit.

“You wanna see?” Yoongi chuckled as he pulled his phone out, navigating to the group chat and handing it to you. You couldn’t help but smile as you read Namjoon pleading to the group to check in on you, asking if anyone was around. Yoongi said he was around but refused only to relent once the other boys pressured him and Namjoon pulled in a favour Yoongi owed him from 2015.

“Ooof. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Good to know Jungkook would literally kill for me though, and that you hate to hang out with me.” You threw an ice cube at him from where you were putting them in your glasses.

“He wouldn’t. He’s just a suck up.” He dodged your attack, sticking his tongue out in triumph. “And you know I had to make Namjoon suffer a bit.”

Rolling your eyes at him as he smirked, you watched him pull out his bottle from his backpack. Your Craigellachie 16 no match for his Glenfiddich 30, you chastised him for buying such an expensive bottle for just the exchange. However, you were not going to say no to a glass of that and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you enjoyed your drinks. You were the first to break the silence.

“How’s your bae?”

“Oh haven’t you heard? Bae is no more! Broke my heart and left me to suffer.” Yoongi scowled as he dramatically grabbed his chest, before downing his drink. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was joking but his usual deadpan was missing.

“Shit… I’m sorry Yoongs.” You looked at him softly, making him scoff.

“It’s fine. Going to get a sick album out of this.” Yoongi waved you off, as he reached in his backpack again to bring out three bottles of soju. “Let’s get drunk!”

“That’s… one way of looking at things. You want to talk about it?” You knew he didn’t want to talk about it, it was probably still fresh and you didn’t want to impose but you wanted to give him the opportunity to share if he wanted to.

“Nah it’s fine. It was the usual anyways. ‘You’re always busy.’ ‘Why won’t you share your feelings with me?’ ‘Do you love me more or your career?’ I say good riddance.” He scoffed once again as he poured himself some more whiskey, sipping it blissfully.

“Well good to know you’re not hiding your pain.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but decided to get drunk with him anyways, taking up his offer to refill your glass. You had an extremely light day at work tomorrow with it being Friday and all, plus you knew that once Yoongi got drunk he would tell you how he was feeling. He was a very talkative drunk.

“Oh you know it. I’m nothing if not in touch with my feelings!”

Soon you and Yoongi were wasted, sitting on opposite ends of your couch as the television played the ‘important videos’ playlist on Youtube, laughing maniacally at each random short video that popped up. The food you had ordered was sitting on the coffee table, half eaten and getting cold. Having not heard Yoongi’s giggle in a while you looked away from the screen to see him staring into space, a slight frown on his lips.

“Dude. You good?” You poked him with your foot to break him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry just realized I’m single again. Fuck.” He looked at you with wide eyes, as if he had just had an epiphany. You frowned at him, sad that he was feeling this way. In the past six months, you had come to learn that although Yoongi often talked about how much he loved being alone, in reality he put a lot of pressure on himself to find someone to be with.

“You know you’re worth more than a relationship, right?” You placed your hand on his, smiling reassuringly.

“Don’t go all Dr. Phil on me. I’m not that sad. It was like two months but it felt nice to call someone mine, you know?” He rolled his eyes at your concern, but held your hand tighter as he finished his sentence, averting his gaze with a melancholic look. He looked at you again sighing. “How did you get over your last breakup?”

“Um… not healthily. I almost sold my company.”

And so for the next hour, you told Yoongi of how messed up your previous relationship had made you. You don’t think you had talked about it in depth about your breakup with Beomseok for years now, but somehow drunk off extremely expensive whiskey and extremely cheap soju it felt natural to share the details about your most toxic relationship with Yoongi. Beomseok and you met when you were initially still in Canada, visiting Seoul in hopes of expanding. You were busy and he tried to help you as you adjusted to a new country, but as your relationship grew so did his tendency to ensure you relied on him. As hard as it was to admit to Yoongi, Beomseok had made you dependent on him, so much so that when he left you after two years of you accommodating him, you broke down. You started having terrible anxiety, using alcohol and cigarettes to take the edge off. Panic attacks became the norm so much so that you had contemplated leaving your position. You couldn’t see your friends, worked from home, and just buried yourself away. It took half a year of self destructive behaviour and for you to wake up in a bed with someone you didn’t remember to knock some sense into you and get yourself into therapy. Yoongi then talked about his own relationship issues, the two of you bonding over your struggles with mental health and shitty coping mechanisms. It was weird to think that Yoongi hadn’t been one of your close friends before this night.

It was around two in the morning by the time Yoongi left and you felt the emotions of the night catch up to you. You hadn’t thought about Beomseok in years, and thinking about him made you feel extremely sad for past you. You didn’t deserve how he treated you and you wished you could go back in time and shake some sense into yourself, and save the heartbreak. Lying in bed, drunk and emotional, you mourned for your old self and her faith in the world. However, looking at your phone you saw the photo of you and Namjoon - him standing behind you with his arm on your shoulder as he pretends to take a bite off your cheek as you grimace - and you were reminded that you were in a much better place now with a much better man. To say you looked forward to Namjoon returning tomorrow would be an understatement.

———————————-

Namjoon: I’m back!!! Namjoon: I miss you!!! Namjoon: Come over!!! Namjoon: I’m cooking for you!!! Y/N: Um… should I call poison control now or later? Namjoon: I’m back after almost a week and this is the welcome I get? Y/N: Babeeeee you know I love you! Namjoon: Prove it. Eat the pasta I’m making Y/N: Did anyone at least help you cook it? Namjoon: IT’S GOING TO BE GOOD. COME OVER. Y/N: Ok ok. No need to yell… Namjoon: Good. See you in an hour? Namjoon: I’m at the dorms btw Y/N: See you soon jooooooonie Y/N: I miss you too btw Namjoon: I love you too btw

You punched the code to the dorm and were greeted by a very excited Moni as you entered. The white dog jumping up at your legs, his tail wagging wildly behind him. You bent down in the entryway to give him a few scratches behind his ears, cooing and calling him a good boy.

“All this love for Moni, what about Joonie? I’m a good boy too!” You heard Namjoon shout out as you made your way through the large living room towards the kitchen, Moni playfully following.

“Aww is my good boy jealous?” You set your eyes on your boyfriend huddled over a cutting board, concentrating hard on cutting what seemed to be garlic, his jaw set. Namjoon was dressed in a blue overalls under which he wore a black sweater, the hood atop his head, the hair of which was now back to his natural dark brown, his nose scrunched as he attempted to keep his glasses from slipping. You don’t know if it was not seeing him for a while or the fact that he looked so cuddly, but you felt butterflies, your stomach somersaulting. You hadn’t felt them since the beginning of your relationship, and you were a bit unnerved that he still had that effect on you six months later.

“Holy shit. You look like a hot minion!” You almost yelled as you walked towards him, startling him enough to look at you with wide eyes under his black rimmed glasses and yelp.

“Don’t scare me like that! I almost cut my hand off!” He tried to glare at you but was soon smiling widely as you ducked under his arm to stand directly in front of him between the counter, putting your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. It felt amazing to have his plush lips against yours again, his familiar scent enveloping your senses till it felt like you were drunk off of him.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his lips. Your hands found your elbows as you pulled him in closer and deepened the kiss, making him moan, his tongue massaging yours as his hands went to your hips, pulling you to him. Before you could lose all your senses you felt a sharp poke on your lower back, and you reluctantly pulled away to look behind you.

“Joonie! You’re still holding the knife!” You said in alarm as his eyes widened again and he dropped it on the counter immediately before looking at you sheepishly and apologizing. “Control yourself. I don’t want to spend the night in the hospital!”

“Then stop distracting me! Go sit there and watch me make you the best pasta of your life.” He smirked and his eyes followed as you moved around the island to sit at the stool, bending down to pet Moni as he settled at your feet. Namjoon knew he was a terrible cook, but he had spent the time at home perfecting this recipe, subjecting his mom to the first few horrible tries, till he figured it out. It was a simple five ingredient dish but it was the first he’d learn and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to impress you. You always cooked for him, from experimental recipes you had found online to traditional Korean food that was second best only to his mom’s, and though he was always happy to do the dishes, he wanted your reunion to be special. He cooked almost quietly, blushing slightly at your words and looks of encouragement, plating it like restaurants would before placing it on the dining table and sitting next to you with a bottle of wine, anticipating your reaction.

“What the fuck? You can cook!” you exclaim as you dig in for another bite. Namjoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he grinned at his success, finally digging into his meal. “I love the garlic. But damn, is this your way of telling me you don’t wanna kiss tonight?”

“Baby, I find even your gross morning breath irresistible, a little garlic’s not gonna stop me.” he laughed and you scowled at him, nudging him with your shoulder, as he leaned over to peck your lips. You weren’t trying to placate Namjoon, this pasta was absolutely delicious, the right amount of seasoning and everything. It warmed your heart that despite his firestarter tendencies he went through the effort to make you a home cooked meal.

As you ate, you talked about your days apart. You recovered from your cold within a day and had been back at work, and even though he scolded you for going back too fast Namjoon loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how you had managed to renew a contract with a client today, switching the period from their usual 1 year to 5 years. You had been working on this for a whole month, taking it upon yourself to attend meetings with not only the directors of this company but even the interns. He squealed with you at your success, high-fiving you and finding your excitement extremely adorable. You also talked about how after two bottles of soju Yoongi had finally admitted you were now his closest female friend and he agreed that you both should now tease him about it relentlessly.

Namjoon told you about how excited everyone was to have him home for that extended period of time, and how healing it was to be around them after the cacophony of tour. Apparently his sister had recently started learning how to make loom bracelets and he showed off the purple one on his wrist, telling you about how he had a matching one for you in his bag. Namjoon looked refreshed and you were glad you convinced him to spend the extra time home. He had also managed to bring back another bonsai tree to add to his collection, taking the time to explain how in a few years he could potentially tap the mini maple for some syrup. The image of your clumsy boyfriend trying to tap a tiny tree made you laugh. As the conversation continued and you both finished your food, you saw his mood dip a little. You silently lean forward cupping his face, as he nuzzles into your touch.

“My beautiful, hardworking boy. What’s wrong?” You coo with a soft smile on your face as your thumbs stroked his cheekbones and he pouts exaggeratedly before his hands go around your waist pulling you into his lap.

“I missed you.” He whispers as he nuzzles his face in your chest, his arms tightening around you. Namjoon felt cocooned in your sweet floral vanilla scent, and even though he’d been home just this morning, this felt like home too - just being in your embrace. He felt his heart swell with adoration as you stroked his hair slowly, whispering affirmations into his ear, slowly forgetting his worries about not spending enough time with you.

Usually when you both met after being apart, it was all desperation to get naked, but for the first time this felt much more intimate. He could hear your heartbeat and it soothed him. He suddenly envisioned both of you old and weathered in each other’s arms and he couldn’t fight the grin that made it on his face. He showered you in kisses, moving from your chest to your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, where he stayed, kissing you firmly as his arms wind tighter around your waist. You lost yourself in his touch, wanting nothing more to be consumed by him as you tugged lightly at his hair, swallowing his moans. Before things could escalate you get startled by a loud thud.

“Wow! Right where we eat!” Jimin clicked his tongue in disapproval, as you both sheepishly stared at him.

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed as he came over to Namjoon and you, dragging you into a hug as he kissed the top of both of your heads. The two men seemed overly excited, and as Namjoon explained to you how he thought he was alone in the dorms tonight since no one has been around in weeks, the two interrupted to say that they had come to start a movie marathon, hoping to stay up all night since they had the day off tomorrow to marathon the Batman franchise as they had a bet going on as which one was the best.

“Do you guys want to join us?” Jimin asked politely as he munched on leftover pasta on the table. You excitedly opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word out, Namjoon looked at you sternly.

“Nope.” He refused the boys as he looked at you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear before he nipped at it. “Baby, ignore your obsession with Batman. I want my dessert.” His voice was a few octaves lower than usual and his words made you shiver, a blush creeping up your face as a nervous giggle escaped your lips. Maybe you could skip rewatching these old movies, just once.

Bidding a quick goodbye to the boys and ignoring their smirks, you both made your way to Namjoon’s room. As soon as you were out of sight, Namjoon pulled you into another kiss, slotting your lower lip between his, making your heart race as he walked you down the hallway towards his room. You almost tripped over his bags haphazardly strewn in front of his door.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to go to my room yet.” He chuckled against your lips as his grip on your hips stabilized you. You giggled as you turned around to open his door, his lips on your neck instantaneously as he rubbed his growing bulge against your butt. His touch had you breathless as you moved in his room, Moni following closely behind you. Removing himself from you he picked up his dog and moved him outside murmuring an apology to the whining canine as he shut the door.

Without wasting any time, he pinned you against the door, your makeout session getting heavy. Your eyes were screwed shut as you mewled, his lips along your neck igniting a fire in you. Your hands moved from his hair to the buckles of his overalls, snapping them off as they fell to the ground unceremoniously. “Oh look! Easy access!” you exclaimed as he smiled against your skin.

His lips met yours again, his hands kneading the flesh of your sides under your shirt. You could kiss him like this forever, the way his tongue explores your mouth as if he doesn’t already know every crevice of your body, as if he’s worshipping you. His kiss slows down, turning from a sloppy fiery heat to intentional moves made to make you moan as he moves you towards the bed, dropping you to the middle as soon as your knees hit the back of the bed. He stands above you removing his shirt with one hand as you move backwards and soon he’s slotting himself between you.

“Fuck I love you.” He whispers as he kisses your cheek, moving towards your ear. You moan loudly as he grinds against you. Your hands run over his back, feeling the muscles as he continues to kiss your neck, biting it before soothing it with wide licks of his tongue. You used to be embarrassed by the marks he left behind but somehow as time passed you craved them. Jiyoung had even nicknamed him your vampire, and you’d be lying if that didn’t make you giddy.

Realizing you were still fully dressed you pushed at his chest, making him lie next to you as you straddled him, one of your knees almost slipping off the edge of the bed. You giggle at your clumsiness as he holds your hips to steady you and you slowly unbutton your shirt. As your skin becomes visible he runs his hands up your stomach to your chest, squeezing each breast as he reaches your neck before pulling your face to his.

“Mhmm… my pretty girl.” He almost growls as he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands cupping your face as you grind on him. Suddenly you feel a tug at your hair, making you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss. Before you know it you are on the floor, laughing at your clumsiness as you see his confused face, eyes still closed, lips puckered.

However, your laughter dies as you hear a loud screech. That’s when you feel that your hair was still being tugged as you looked up to see a tall, bulky woman, probably in her late thirties calling you a slut. Before you can even register what is happening you feel a sharp pain across your face as you realize you’ve just been punched. You taste the iron before you notice drops of bright red on your chest.

You cup your nose with one hand as you hear chaos ensue. Namjoon yelling your name as Moni barks loudly outside the room. You are aware that you are still lying on the floor but your eyes refuse to open as you hear scuffling before the door being slammed and Jungkook’s voice.

Everything’s a blur and you hear a loud blood curdling scream. Before you can register that that noise came from your mouth you hear your arm snap just as the most pain you have ever felt in your life turns your arm numb. You don’t remember much after, only grunts and shouts of your name. The last thing you hear is Namjoon’s voice calling your name repeatedly as he holds your head.

——

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[brimstoneandstardust]

Low Activity, Illness, Job Burn Out, New Orleans trip, Mental Health and Murder...aka, where I’ve been for for the last few weeks.

 Hi mates!!! I’ve been wanting to post this for a bit but...yeah. I couldn’t make my brain muster the words much less put them in some sort of sensical order. 

 I’m sure it’s been noticeable that my replies are going out at a snails pace lately.  There’s been a shit storm of things contributing to this in my real life and I just wanted to explain why I may seem like I’m ghosting a bit lately. IT”S NOT INTENTIONAL! I PROMISE!

So some of you on here that I speak to regularly already have some idea what’s going on, others maybe not as much and for some reason there a bunch of new lovely people following me--so hello! I’m sorry you’ve walked into a bit of a shit storm around here. Don’t mind the mess. :)

Firstly, it’s just been that non-stop busy time of year for my fam when my kids go back to school and birthdays and all that. So not only am I working a ton to pay for all this stuff but there’s like a million fucking social events every weekend, even the ones I work. Now that was mostly last month---well, I still haven’t recovered from it physically or mentally or hell even financially. I got sick recently--NOT COVID--and just have not been able to bounce back, leaving me really physically drained all the time. On top of that, I suffer from IDA--Iron deficiency anemia--and because I haven’t had a transfusion in forever and my eating habits are even worse than normal on top of the stress and work...physically I’m held together with ducktape and denial. 

Tackling the mental health issue...stress and issues at my job have caused my mental health to steadily decline, but the last couple of weeks has been new levels of suck. I’ve been getting attacked physically at work fairly regularly by volatile residents and dealing with really shitty management and coworkers. I’ve been in a really bad, dark headspace for awhile that I’m doing my best to cope with and push through. Anxiety attacks are frequent these days. Like way more than I’ve ever had in my life. Which is no fun. 

On the subject of MURDER...there was one. At my job. A murder-suicide to be specific. It was an awful, awful event that of course has affected everyone pretty strongly. Yet once again management is shit and hasn’t really done much to take any further measures to ensure that the staff is safe, not to mention the residents. This incident has obviously compounded the burnout feeling and the mental health decline.

With life being a real turd lately, I just haven’t had time or energy to get as much out as I would like. I’m trying not to beat myself up over this because we all know real life has to come first. This is a hobby not a job. But writing has always been my go-to coping mechanism and primary self care. And honestly I don’t know how I would get through any of this crap without some of you wonderful, darling people I get to talk to on here. You know who you are!!

Today and tomorrow I have basic chores and some packing for my upcoming trip to New Orleans. As much anxiety I have about leaving the kids and hubby alone for 5 days, I know that I am in desperate need of a break. I’ll be spending the time there with my dad. I am really hoping it goes well. It’s a total toss up with that man. 

Today and tomorrow I will be trying to do a bit of a reply catch up on here, getting as much out as I am able. I’ll be on sporadically while I’m on my trip I’m sure, but probably won’t be posting any actual replies I get in that time frame until i come back home. 

I am really hoping this trip serves as a much needed break and recharge and I am looking forward to getting things going with more regularity on here again. I appreciate you all so much for your patience and writing with me and sticking around through my episodes and what not. It means the world to me.

I hope the rest of you are having a wonderful spooky season so far and are taking care of yourselves <3<3 thanks for listening to my rant

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

sometime in this last week, or this week coming, my blog has turned/turns 10. god. a decade old. a whole ass chunk of my life i’ve spent on this hellsite. when i began on here, i was a kid. a lost, lonely, depressed and anxious 15/16 year old kid. a kid scared of her future. a kid confused about her future. what to do for uni. to change schools or not??? to do drama/acting at uni or english/philosophy or to move 8hrs away to another regional uni to “escape” her “washed up, dead end hometown” that was so typical of all the pop-punk music that she was listening to at the time.

she was a tad overdramatic, loud, “funny” (as described by her school friends) and terribly forgetful in regards to homework and school assignments. she was angry at the world, most especially the catholic school she was fucking sick and tired of attending. but she was convinced that since she was the so-called “funny girl”, that she simply couldn’t be depressed or anxious. she believed herself unloveable because she didn’t look like a weird mixture of hayley williams and emo-pop queen lights. but now, i no longer believe that i have to look like the women that i looked up to in the ~emo scene~. fuck beauty standards. i am loveable.

in the years since joining tumblr, i’ve managed to get through business college, my undergrad degree and, well, failed out of postgrad due to obvious burnout and health issues amongst other things. although i’ve lost many friends irl and many followers/mutuals online on here. for those who’ve stuck around to see me get through all of this, thank you. to all the friends/casual mutuals that have since deactivated or only followed me for a short time then unfollowed; thank you.

like obviously i was never/have never been a massive popular blog on here, like thebootydiaries or vampireapologist (who has since deactivated a couple of months ago) with tens of thousands of followers. my follower count is still close to the 8,000 range at 7,892. obviously that’s still a lot of people (and of course, porn bots lmao and many, many non-active blogs), enough like one super old post from like 2012 tumblr pointed out, enough for a small to medium sized city or town, or something like that. i don’t know how many people i’ve really reached. i really don’t know how i actually amassed this small army of people.

i am aware though, that on other platforms like snapchat (lmao does anyone even use it anymore in 2021???)/instagram/youtube/tiktok etc, i’d PROBABLY be considered as some type of ~micro influencer (🤮🤮)~. hell, i actually had a bot slide into my notes about being one on here on this hellsite back in 2019. i don’t know if i’ve ever actually ~influenced~ anyone on here with my shitposts (when i started making some) or my personal posts. i don’t know my reach. even though, now, i do occasionally get featured on buzzfeed listicles (although pay me buzzfeed along with the OPs of those original embedded posts), i still don’t know how many people i’ve reached… and even with my very occasional checks of google analytics lmao. on top of this, grappling with the loss of followers at times is much, much easier than it was when i began on here and the first few years following that. i know that my follower count doesn’t determine my worth and stuff.

but over these 10 years, i have grown. i turn 26 this year. back in 2011, 15/16yo me never thought she’d be here. she was partially down the suicidal thoughts hole, with things about ~picturing her funeral and wondering who’d bother to turn up. if only she could pretend to be dead for a day to see who’d give a fuck~ and 16-18yo me was defs down it with her HSC hellscape thoughts in 2012/2013. that 3rd floor tafe/tech women’s bathroom window drop and the thought of scarring her class for life (and that cool dude from catholic school that she crushed on who ended up at tafe with her) with jumping out of it onto the concrete below. instead, she just posted on fb about ~being a failure~ etc which ultimately did lose her a bunch of facebook friends lmao. it was practically the same thing. her mental breakdown after the end of her hsc, where she let her earrings go green and get infected in her ears because “fuck self care, bc what the fuck is it??? i’ll never get better! let me fucking wallow in my self loathing bc it’s the only thing that i’m fucking good at!!!” so i no longer have my ears pierced. oh! it was just all too fucking much!!

i am happier today. i no longer have those semi-suicidal thoughts. hell, i almost died in 2020 from a fucking bowel aneurysm, after my stomach tumour excision surgery. that forced me to put things into perspective. i appreciate the little things . i appreciate the very few friends that i actually have. yes. i’m still depressed and anxious. some days are still shitty and hard. but nowhere as hard and shitty as they were back when i began on here 10 years ago.

how the fuck last 10 years have gone past, with my ass on here; clearing out my blog and caring more about doing that than my uni work (lmao whoops); having made some lifelong friends both internationally (from the US) and long distance domestically in australia, it’s been a long ride; i honestly have no fucking idea. obviously over these past 10 years, i’ve debated with myself over and over and over again whether i should delete/deactivate this account or not. would it make me healthier??? more than likely. but then when i have meltdowns or just inner ramblings i have to get out somewhere, where else to post??? on fb?? obvs not. it’s “attention seeking” or the like on there. no one will read them. no one will resonate. but on here??? even if i got/get one “like” in the notes or one “yo i feel this” response in the tags or replies, it feels like i’ve reached someone??? okay yeah. i know this place IS NOT therapy and i’m not using my followers as amateur (or probs even actual professional) armchair psychologists…. which is a thing i think people need to stop doing internet-wide: but that’s a whole other post that i reblogged a few days ago lmao. i really need to get another therapist, actually lmao.

but it’s the community i’ve found hard to leave. i have what feel like friends, when i’ve never been employed (still as of yet); and when all of my irl friends/acquaintances are working and doing the whole ~adulting~ and ~grown up life~ thing right. it’s also the frenzied rabidness of spite with hating staff’s godawful ideas. the memes. oh the memes. and also the RaWrInG 20s XD emo scene reemergence on here that’s kept me here. the messy petty drama from time to time of big blogs fighting it out.

this place really is bizarre and fun sometimes. and also the fact that i can still hide behind the ridiculous “roaring pikachu” URL that i made all those years ago. i am anonymous. it’s freeing. but on fb it’s all like “WHY WONT YOU ADD A BANNER IMAGE AND TELL US 20 FUN FACTS ABOUT YOU!!!!!???? LET PEOPLE WHO HAVENT SPOKEN TO YOU IN 10 YEARS KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU BECAUSE WE’RE ALL FRIENDS HERE!!!” and the same goes for Corporate Hellscape Facebook™️ (linkedin) but in the professional sense instead. y’all know fuck all about me really. besides my posts. and i love that and live for that. okay yeah. y’all know more about my mental health than my fb feed obvs… which is probably a terribly unfortunate thing. but still.

over the last 10 years then, my superiority complex for being ~so original and intelligent~ or whatever the fuck i had in high school, has all but ebbed away. i’m not that smart just because i went to uni. hell, i literally did NONE of my in-class work and none of my philosophy readings in uni….. so i have fuck all idea of how i got through undergrad like that lmao. i’m not original when so many people can articulate the same thoughts that i have, but like, sometimes better, on a post (even though sometimes/most of the time the Tumblr User Hot Takes Tuesday™️ takes on here are fucking awful lmao). but still. originality is not something i really have anymore. or really had in the first place lmao.

so will i deactivate after these 10 years, like i’ve been saying for so, so long??? i honestly have no idea. but just know. thanks guise. have a nice gpoy selfie day XD. grab your wands. your tardises. grab your war paint. grab your whatever the fuck other fandom specific stuff that was one that hella cringe post from 2011 til 2015 random tumblr. that relic is as old as time itself. just as this mysterious roaring pikachu is for someone whose too loyal to leave this W E B B E D H E L L S I T E that’s just as much of a train wreck as she is. lmao.

[joheun-saram]

To Make A Power Couple (knj) | 6

Chapter 6: Garlic Pasta and I miss you-s

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Summary- Namjoon visits his parents and Yoongi and Y/N bond over their past.

word count- 4.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, slightly smutty, strangers2lovers

warnings- drinking, talk of mental health and panic attacks, violence, blood, stalker

a.n- sorry for this chapter being late! i had major burn out this last few weeks but I finally got it out. Tell me what you think!

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

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“I hate you Kim Namjoon! Get out!”

Namjoon looks at you with an amused smile as he drops his bags at the door of your bedroom. You’re sitting in your bed, your comforter fully around you, even on top of your head, as you loudly blow your nose, some show blaring on the television. Even though he feels bad about passing on his cold to you, he can’t help but find your red nose and whining adorable. The past few months since Namjoon returned from tour had been few of the best you’d had in Korea. Although you both still had remarkably busy schedules, you had found a routine of spending time together at least once a week, usually ending your Saturdays together to spend as much of the Sunday together as possible. It didn’t matter how you spent your time, whether it was spent going out on dates or sitting silently reading or cuddling, all that mattered was that you were together. 

“Aw baby, I’m sorry!” He sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your burittoed body. He kissed all over your face obnoxiously, much to your chagrin as you groaned and tried to get him off you, worried to get your snot on him. “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll cancel going to my parents and stay here to take care of you!” He punctuated that with another kiss on your lips. Hey, he’d already suffered through this cold, might as well take advantage of being able to be near you now.

“No! Shut up! You’re not cancelling.” Since things were slower at work, the company had decided to give Namjoon and the boys the week off. He had spent the first day with you, going to the most recent Ji Hye Yeom exhibit yesterday, and was going to go visit his family for the next four days. When Namjoon told you he was planning to spend the majority of his vacation with his parents, he was bracing himself for a negative reaction, a learned response from his previous relationship. His ex would always hate that he would visit his family for extended periods when he got time off and wouldn’t prioritize his relationship with her. He was surprised and relieved to hear you not only excited that he was visiting family but encouraging him to spend more time, upping his initial ask of two days to four. He liked that you always encouraged him to call his mom when he was on tour, as did his mom, so much so that she had started to say ‘my beautiful daughter’ whenever she referred to you in front of him.

Namjoon stood up as he watched you rant about the importance of visiting family, one arm out from your duvet heaven as you waved it about to emphasize your points. He almost giggled at how endearing you looked sniffling through your tirade, hair a mess and voice a little hoarse. Taking off his jeans to get comfortable, he chuckled at your wide eyes and dramatic gasp.

“No! We’re not having sex right now you maniac!” You whine as you lie down with the covers over your head. Namjoon gets into bed, pulling the comforter from over you to sneak inside, his arms snaking around your grumbling form to pull him to his chest. Although you complained, you snuggled into him, feeling the safe comfort that only Namjoon provided you.

“I just wanna nap with you before I leave.” He kissed the top of your head as he tangled your legs with his. You poked your head up from where it was hiding in his chest to look up at his smiling face as he cupped your cheek to place a chaste kiss on your lips. Caressing the skin once he leans away, he looks at you adoringly.  “Sorry for getting you sick, baby.”

----------------------------------

“Your boyfriend is a tyrant. Please never get sick again.” Yoongi took off his beanie and mask and shook his head to fluff his hair as you went through your phone to finish placing the order for takeout. After talking to Namjoon about how you had spent all of yesterday recovering, and even facetiming to ensure him that you were fit enough to be working again, he still didn’t believe you, forcing the only member of his band that was in Seoul during his vacation to make sure you were truly alright. You would be annoyed if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his overt concern. You were glad to spend time with Yoongi - he was pretty similar to you and you both had been slacking on hanging out lately. A few months ago you had decided to host a whiskey exchange where you would share bottles of your favourite liquor together, only for it to fall apart after two hangouts due to your busy schedules and Yoongi’s new relationship. It was nice to be in his company again, his mellow energy a great contrast to your usually loud friends.

“What did he say?” You question, laughing. Yoongi had called Namjoon many funny nicknames before but hearing him call him a tyrant made you laugh, picturing your boyfriend getting stern and demanding someone pay you a visit. 

“You wanna see?” Yoongi chuckled as he pulled his phone out, navigating to the group chat and handing it to you. You couldn’t help but smile as you read Namjoon pleading to the group to check in on you, asking if anyone was around. Yoongi said he was around but refused only to relent once the other boys pressured him and Namjoon pulled in a favour Yoongi owed him from 2015.

“Ooof. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Good to know Jungkook would literally kill for me though, and that you hate to hang out with me.” You threw an ice cube at him from where you were putting them in your glasses. 

“He wouldn’t. He’s just a suck up.” He dodged your attack, sticking his tongue out in triumph. “And you know I had to make Namjoon suffer a bit.”

Rolling your eyes at him as he smirked, you watched him pull out his bottle from his backpack. Your Craigellachie 16 no match for his Glenfiddich 30, you chastised him for buying such an expensive bottle for just the exchange. However, you were not going to say no to a glass of that and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you enjoyed your drinks. You were the first to break the silence. 

“How’s your bae?”

“Oh haven’t you heard? Bae is no more! Broke my heart and left me to suffer.” Yoongi scowled as he dramatically grabbed his chest, before downing his drink. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was joking but his usual deadpan was missing. 

“Shit… I’m sorry Yoongs.” You looked at him softly, making him scoff.

“It’s fine. Going to get a sick album out of this.” Yoongi waved you off, as he reached in his backpack again to bring out three bottles of soju. “Let’s get drunk!”

“That’s… one way of looking at things. You want to talk about it?” You knew he didn’t want to talk about it, it was probably still fresh and you didn’t want to impose but you wanted to give him the opportunity to share if he wanted to.

“Nah it’s fine. It was the usual anyways. ‘You’re always busy.’ ‘Why won’t you share your feelings with me?’ ‘Do you love me more or your career?’ I say good riddance.” He scoffed once again as he poured himself some more whiskey, sipping it blissfully.

“Well good to know you’re not hiding your pain.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but decided to get drunk with him anyways, taking up his offer to refill your glass. You had an extremely light day at work tomorrow with it being Friday and all, plus you knew that once Yoongi got drunk he would tell you how he was feeling. He was a very talkative drunk.

“Oh you know it. I’m nothing if not in touch with my feelings!”

Soon you and Yoongi were wasted, sitting on opposite ends of your couch as the television played the ‘important videos’ playlist on Youtube, laughing maniacally at each random short video that popped up. The food you had ordered was sitting on the coffee table, half eaten and getting cold. Having not heard Yoongi’s giggle in a while you looked away from the screen to see him staring into space, a slight frown on his lips.

“Dude. You good?” You poked him with your foot to break him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry just realized I’m single again. Fuck.” He looked at you with wide eyes, as if he had just had an epiphany. You frowned at him, sad that he was feeling this way. In the past six months, you had come to learn that although Yoongi often talked about how much he loved being alone, in reality he put a lot of pressure on himself to find someone to be with.

“You know you’re worth more than a relationship, right?” You placed your hand on his, smiling reassuringly.

“Don’t go all Dr. Phil on me. I’m not that sad. It was like two months but it felt nice to call someone mine, you know?” He rolled his eyes at your concern, but held your hand tighter as he finished his sentence, averting his gaze with a melancholic look. He looked at you again sighing. “How did you get over your last breakup?”

“Um… not healthily. I almost sold my company.”

And so for the next hour, you told Yoongi of how messed up your previous relationship had made you. You don’t think you had talked about it in depth about your breakup with Beomseok for years now, but somehow drunk off extremely expensive whiskey and extremely cheap soju it felt natural to share the details about your most toxic relationship with Yoongi. Beomseok and you met when you were initially still in Canada, visiting Seoul in hopes of expanding. You were busy and he tried to help you as you adjusted to a new country, but as your relationship grew so did his tendency to ensure you relied on him. As hard as it was to admit to Yoongi, Beomseok had made you dependent on him, so much so that when he left you after two years of you accommodating him, you broke down. You started having terrible anxiety, using alcohol and cigarettes to take the edge off. Panic attacks became the norm so much so that you had contemplated leaving your position. You couldn’t see your friends, worked from home, and just buried yourself away. It took half a year of self destructive behaviour and for you to wake up in a bed with someone you didn’t remember to knock some sense into you and get yourself into therapy. Yoongi then talked about his own relationship issues, the two of you bonding over your struggles with mental health and shitty coping mechanisms. It was weird to think that Yoongi hadn’t been one of your close friends before this night.

It was around two in the morning by the time Yoongi left and you felt the emotions of the night catch up to you. You hadn’t thought about Beomseok in years, and thinking about him made you feel extremely sad for past you. You didn’t deserve how he treated you and you wished you could go back in time and shake some sense into yourself, and save the heartbreak. Lying in bed, drunk and emotional, you mourned for your old self and her faith in the world. However, looking at your phone you saw the photo of you and Namjoon - him standing behind you with his arm on your shoulder as he pretends to take a bite off your cheek as you grimace - and you were reminded that you were in a much better place now with a much better man. To say you looked forward to Namjoon returning tomorrow would be an understatement.

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Namjoon: I’m back!!!

Namjoon: I miss you!!!

Namjoon: Come over!!!

Namjoon: I’m cooking for you!!!

Y/N: Um… should I call poison control now or later?

Namjoon: I’m back after almost a week and this is the welcome I get?

Y/N: Babeeeee you know I love you!

Namjoon: Prove it. Eat the pasta I’m making

Y/N: Did anyone at least help you cook it?

Namjoon: IT’S GOING TO BE GOOD. COME OVER.

Y/N: Ok ok. No need to yell...

Namjoon: Good. See you in an hour?

Namjoon: I’m at the dorms btw

Y/N: See you soon jooooooonie

Y/N: I miss you too btw

Namjoon: I love you too btw

You punched the code to the dorm and were greeted by a very excited Moni as you entered. The white dog jumping up at your legs, his tail wagging wildly behind him. You bent down in the entryway to give him a few scratches behind his ears, cooing and calling him a good boy. 

“All this love for Moni, what about Joonie? I’m a good boy too!” You heard Namjoon shout out as you made your way through the large living room towards the kitchen, Moni playfully following. 

“Aww is my good boy jealous?” You set your eyes on your boyfriend huddled over a cutting board, concentrating hard on cutting what seemed to be garlic, his jaw set. Namjoon was dressed in a blue overalls under which he wore a black sweater, the hood atop his head, the hair of which was now back to his natural dark brown, his nose scrunched as he attempted to keep his glasses from slipping. You don’t know if it was not seeing him for a while or the fact that he looked so cuddly, but you felt butterflies, your stomach somersaulting. You hadn’t felt them since the beginning of your relationship, and you were a bit unnerved that he still had that effect on you six months later. 

“Holy shit. You look like a hot minion!” You almost yelled as you walked towards him, startling him enough to look at you with wide eyes under his black rimmed glasses and yelp.

“Don’t scare me like that! I almost cut my hand off!” He tried to glare at you but was soon smiling widely as you ducked under his arm to stand directly in front of him between the counter, putting your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. It felt amazing to have his plush lips against yours again, his familiar scent enveloping your senses till it felt like you were drunk off of him. 

“I missed you,” you whispered against his lips. Your hands found your elbows as you pulled him in closer and deepened the kiss, making him moan, his tongue massaging yours as his hands went to your hips, pulling you to him. Before you could lose all your senses you felt a sharp poke on your lower back, and you reluctantly pulled away to look behind you.

“Joonie! You’re still holding the knife!” You said in alarm as his eyes widened again and he dropped it on the counter immediately before looking at you sheepishly and apologizing. “Control yourself. I don’t want to spend the night in the hospital!”

“Then stop distracting me! Go sit there and watch me make you the best pasta of your life.” He smirked and his eyes followed as you moved around the island to sit at the stool, bending down to pet Moni as he settled at your feet. Namjoon knew he was a terrible cook, but he had spent the time at home perfecting this recipe, subjecting his mom to the first few horrible tries, till he figured it out. It was a simple five ingredient dish but it was the first he’d learn and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to impress you. You always cooked for him, from experimental recipes you had found online to traditional Korean food that was second best only to his mom’s, and though he was always happy to do the dishes, he wanted your reunion to be special. He cooked almost quietly, blushing slightly at your words and looks of encouragement, plating it like restaurants would before placing it on the dining table and sitting next to you with a bottle of wine, anticipating your reaction.

“What the fuck? You can cook!” you exclaim as you dig in for another bite. Namjoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he grinned at his success, finally digging into his meal. “I love the garlic. But damn, is this your way of telling me you don’t wanna kiss tonight?”

“Baby, I find even your gross morning breath irresistible, a little garlic’s not gonna stop me.” he laughed and you scowled at him, nudging him with your shoulder, as he leaned over to peck your lips. You weren’t trying to placate Namjoon, this pasta was absolutely delicious, the right amount of seasoning and everything. It warmed your heart that despite his firestarter tendencies he went through the effort to make you a home cooked meal.

As you ate, you talked about your days apart. You recovered from your cold within a day and had been back at work, and even though he scolded you for going back too fast Namjoon loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how you had managed to renew a contract with a client today, switching the period from their usual 1 year to 5 years. You had been working on this for a whole month, taking it upon yourself to attend meetings with not only the directors of this company but even the interns. He squealed with you at your success, high-fiving you and finding your excitement extremely adorable. You also talked about how after two bottles of soju Yoongi had finally admitted you were now his closest female friend and he agreed that you both should now tease him about it relentlessly.

Namjoon told you about how excited everyone was to have him home for that extended period of time, and how healing it was to be around them after the cacophony of tour. Apparently his sister had recently started learning how to make loom bracelets and he showed off the purple one on his wrist, telling you about how he had a matching one for you in his bag. Namjoon looked refreshed and you were glad you convinced him to spend the extra time home. He had also managed to bring back another bonsai tree to add to his collection, taking the time to explain how in a few years he could potentially tap the mini maple for some syrup. The image of your clumsy boyfriend trying to tap a tiny tree made you laugh. As the conversation continued and you both finished your food, you saw his mood dip a little. You silently lean forward cupping his face, as he nuzzles into your touch.

“My beautiful, hardworking boy. What’s wrong?” You coo with a soft smile on your face as your thumbs stroked his cheekbones and he pouts exaggeratedly before his hands go around your waist pulling you into his lap.

“I missed you.” He whispers as he nuzzles his face in your chest, his arms tightening around you. Namjoon felt cocooned in your sweet floral vanilla scent, and even though he’d been home just this morning, this felt like home too - just being in your embrace. He felt his heart swell with adoration as you stroked his hair slowly, whispering affirmations into his ear, slowly forgetting his worries about not spending enough time with you. 

Usually when you both met after being apart, it was all desperation to get naked, but for the first time this felt much more intimate. He could hear your heartbeat and it soothed him. He suddenly envisioned both of you old and weathered in each other’s arms and he couldn’t fight the grin that made it on his face. He showered you in kisses, moving from your chest to your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, where he stayed, kissing you firmly as his arms wind tighter around your waist. You lost yourself in his touch, wanting nothing more to be consumed by him as you tugged lightly at his hair, swallowing his moans. Before things could escalate you get startled by a loud thud. 

“Wow! Right where we eat!” Jimin clicked his tongue in disapproval, as you both sheepishly stared at him. 

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed as he came over to Namjoon and you, dragging you into a hug as he kissed the top of both of your heads. The two men seemed overly excited, and as Namjoon explained to you how he thought he was alone in the dorms tonight since no one has been around in weeks, the two interrupted to say that they had come to start a movie marathon, hoping to stay up all night since they had the day off tomorrow to marathon the Batman franchise as they had a bet going on as which one was the best.

“Do you guys want to join us?” Jimin asked politely as he munched on leftover pasta on the table. You excitedly opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word out, Namjoon looked at you sternly.

“Nope.” He refused the boys as he looked at you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear before he nipped at it. “Baby, ignore your obsession with Batman. I want my dessert.” His voice was a few octaves lower than usual and his words made you shiver, a blush creeping up your face as a nervous giggle escaped your lips. Maybe you could skip rewatching these old movies, just once.

Bidding a quick goodbye to the boys and ignoring their smirks, you both made your way to Namjoon’s room. As soon as you were out of sight, Namjoon pulled you into another kiss, slotting your lower lip between his, making your heart race as he walked you down the hallway towards his room. You almost tripped over his bags haphazardly strewn in front of his door.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to go to my room yet.” He chuckled against your lips as his grip on your hips stabilized you. You giggled as you turned around to open his door, his lips on your neck instantaneously as he rubbed his growing bulge against your butt. His touch had you breathless as you moved in his room, Moni following closely behind you. Removing himself from you he picked up his dog and moved him outside murmuring an apology to the whining canine as he shut the door.

Without wasting any time, he pinned you against the door, your makeout session getting heavy. Your eyes were screwed shut as you mewled, his lips along your neck igniting a fire in you. Your hands moved from his hair to the buckles of his overalls, snapping them off as they fell to the ground unceremoniously. “Oh look! Easy access!” you exclaimed as he smiled against your skin.

His lips met yours again, his hands kneading the flesh of your sides under your shirt. You could kiss him like this forever, the way his tongue explores your mouth as if he doesn’t already know every crevice of your body, as if he’s worshipping you. His kiss slows down, turning from a sloppy fiery heat to intentional moves made to make you moan as he moves you towards the bed, dropping you to the middle as soon as your knees hit the back of the bed. He stands above you removing his shirt with one hand as you move backwards and soon he’s slotting himself between you. 

“Fuck I love you.” He whispers as he kisses your cheek, moving towards your ear. You moan loudly as he grinds against you. Your hands run over his back, feeling the muscles as he continues to kiss your neck, biting it before soothing it with wide licks of his tongue. You used to be embarrassed by the marks he left behind but somehow as time passed you craved them. Jiyoung had even nicknamed him your vampire, and you’d be lying if that didn’t make you giddy. 

Realizing you were still fully dressed you pushed at his chest, making him lie next to you as you straddled him, one of your knees almost slipping off the edge of the bed. You giggle at your clumsiness as he holds your hips to steady you and you slowly unbutton your shirt. As your skin becomes visible he runs his hands up your stomach to your chest, squeezing each breast as he reaches your neck before pulling your face to his. 

“Mhmm… my pretty girl.” He almost growls as he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands cupping your face as you grind on him. Suddenly you feel a tug at your hair, making you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss. Before you know it you are on the floor, laughing at your clumsiness as you see his confused face, eyes still closed, lips puckered.

However, your laughter dies as you hear a loud screech. That’s when you feel that your hair was still being tugged as you looked up to see a tall, bulky woman, probably in her late thirties calling you a slut. Before you can even register what is happening you feel a sharp pain across your face as you realize you’ve just been punched. You taste the iron before you notice drops of bright red on your chest. 

You cup your nose with one hand as you hear chaos ensue. Namjoon yelling your name as Moni barks loudly outside the room. You are aware that you are still lying on the floor but your eyes refuse to open as you hear scuffling before the door being slammed and Jungkook’s voice. 

Everything’s a blur and you hear a loud blood curdling scream. Before you can register that that noise came from your mouth you hear your arm snap just as the most pain you have ever felt in your life turns your arm numb. You don’t remember much after, only grunts and shouts of your name. The last thing you hear is Namjoon’s voice calling your name repeatedly as he holds your head.

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[mckitterick]

unhappy times

ironically, for someone so open about my mental health stuff, I don't post a lot of a personal nature, but I'm having a really bad time rn

(yeah, so's everybody, which is part of why I've not said much. unlike many, I still have my health, a job, and I'm safe and have food and a house etc)

on top of all the other #Apocalypse2020 nightmares, I've been living with my ex for more than a year after we broke up (we’re still best of friends, her job was eliminated due to cost-cutting, she has v little savings, etc). she's packing the last of her stuff rn, moving out on Election Day (!)

she has been my nesting partner for 15 years (give or take a few months here and there during what we called our Troubles). she’s been part of almost all I do. everything in my life is about to change

the house is simultaneously filling up with boxes, and emptying of all these things we've gathered over the past 15 years. some staying, some leaving.

every single thing related to her or us makes me cry. so many decisions I made to make a nice life with her now seem strange and alien - things, organization, all kinds of choices.

my executive function’s at an all-time low, though I still manage to teach engaging classes (or am just lucky to have a bunch of very engaged students), and even participated in a talk yesterday about the Gunn Center and science fiction for WVU’s Asimov Symposium

but that's about all I'm good for rn. haven’t done much astronomy (didn’t even pull out my telescope for the Halloween Blue / Hunter’s Moon), written practically no fiction, nor worked much on vehicles, nor done much fitness activity, nor...

know how one's mental health is usually improved by reaching out to friends? problem with that is reaching out takes way more spoons (or spell slots) and executive function than I could hope to have for a while now. so except for the folks who contact me when I have the oomph to respond, I've been awful at being a pen pal with a couple sweet people who’ve been sending me cards and texts, or even staying in touch with long-time friends going through their own traumas and important life moments

but I just got nuthin. which makes me feel even worse. rinse, lather, repeat. ugh

two more days.

only two more days, and then this stage of moving ends, this phase of my life ends, this change concludes. at the same time we learn if our country's future is leading to authoritarian dystopia or something more hopeful

if you've read this far, I'm not sure if I should say Thanks or Sorry 😂😭

just venting, because the emotion needs to go somewhere or I’ll crack open (per my “Hydraulic Theory of Psychology”), and I guess (since the fall of LiveJournal and such) Tumblr has sorta become my personal blog

thank you, friends. your being here has saved my sanity during this Hell Year. a new stage of life is about to begin for us all