#or at least make the beginning steps towards sorting the mental health

[the-everqueen]

ok but how do i convince my parents not to come to graduation?

[ynsvnte]

Gilded Lily — Park Jongseong

— pairing: ex!Jay x gn!reader (ft. Heeseung)

— Genre: angst, post-breakup, moving on, oneshot?

— warnings: crying, mentions of getting old, bad health but it’s not describe

— wc: 1.5k (1565)

— Synopsis: moving on from your ex wasn’t easy. But you knew you had to make to the end. And after all those years of radio silence of not hearing a word from him. He came along one day..and oh boy was it different..

Part one , Masterlist

Now it's been long enough to talk about it

Years have passed by now. And at least to say you haven’t seen Jay. Not once. You still from time to time get the bittersweet feeling. Moving on from him was easier said than done. There was still a tiny piece in your heart. Shouting and wanting his love back. But you knew, knew right in your head that would be a bad idea, and you definitely don’t want to experience the same thing again. The time moving on from him was difficult..is one way to describe it. It wasn’t so easy. Him being your first love, and just breaking you, was very heart wrenching to say the least. It made you realize how fragile you were as porcelain. Just like how porcelain can chipt. Doing damage. It wouldn’t break you instantly but rather slowly. The stages of moving had three as you sorted them out number one being. The beginning, of course. Second is realization, third is the end. You’ve reached the end. Or maybe not…

But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way?

The beginning includes lots of crying, lots and lots of crying. It was your first ever breakup, you didn’t expect him to do something like this. He seemed so caring towards everyone. He wouldn’t dare to hurt anyone’s feelings. So why did he hurt yours? That’s a question you would ask yourself. It was hard. The cycle went on for months and months. Maybe 6 months.. crying about a man that didn’t deserve you. Said your best friend. Your best friend supported you all the way from the beginning to the end, and you appreciate it so much. You wanted him back. Still deeply in love with him. You would go through your old photos with him, messages. Memories would flood your mind. Which wasn’t helpful in any way. Your overall health got affected. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Mentally you felt so broken, drained, depressed. You weren’t your usual self. Emotionally crying. Crying. And more crying. He was the perfect man in your eyes. Everything was going perfect, you’ve never doubted him before. But that night you wish you never saw what you saw. She wasn’t just a friend like he used to claim. Sure you let him have girl friends. You never had a problem before. But oh boy were you wrong. It’s stupid to think that you didn’t notice it before. Physically. You wouldn’t even try to get out of bed. Always being drained of energy because of all of that crying. Only getting up to use the bathroom and eating. Yes physically wasn’t the worst but you weren’t in your best state . The break up took a toll on your part. You didn’t know about Jay either. Maybe he was happy with his new lover. Living his best life while you are over here suffering.

Always the fool with the slowest heart

Realization, Luckily having major support from friends and family. They helped you each step. Your best friend helped the most. Always trying to make time for you. Even when she was the busiest person. It made you realize your worth, and how you should move on. That this time you were facing your old problems. You took it slowly not wanting to rush. You started to take care of your health. Deleting any photos of you and him together. And getting rid of old things that made you think of him. You wanted to be a better version of yourself. One that he never should ever destroy and own. You got better day by day. Your smile returned to your face. Everything was going back to how they used to be, when you weren’t broken-hearted. Your thoughts were now very different, having a positive outlook. You now smiled and it wasn’t for him.

Turn off all alarms and lie to me

The end. It’s completely not over. Yet some might assume it is. It’s not for you. You can still feel some part of him in you. You thought you were never going to see him again. You sometimes think back to that day. The day he lost you. You also thought if he ever tried finding you. Which you didn’t think so because he was someone else. It does hurt at times to realize he wasn’t the one for you. And how you were never going to grow old with him, get married. A because of his mistake. You’re very proud of yourself for how far you’ve come. In this situation. You’ve found someone new. And already being engaged to him.

Your first encounter with Jay after years was when you were by yourself shopping for your new home that you recently bought. Jay stood there recognizing the woman, whom he deemed to love the most. In flesh.

“Yn..” a voice speaks out. You look around and meet a pair of eyes staring right at you..

“Jay..??” You say confused. You never thought you would see him again. “Hey..how’s it going…” Jay said softly, happy to see you. “Good, and you..?” You asked. “Wish I could say the same..” he stated making you confused.. “What..? What about your girlfriend..?” You mentioned the woman he cheated on you with. Lord..the memories.. “We, we’ve been alright..just kind of in a rocky situation right now..we just broke up..soo” he says. You nodded your head..

“Yn..I know I was wrong for what I did..but please take me the back..” as soon as he said those words. You were pissed. Who does he think you’ll forgive him easily.

“No, I’ll never. Jay you don't know the damage you did to me. I actually thought I was having nightmares. I thought you would come back and tell me it’s all not real. I waited. I waited for you to tell me it was all a lie and it wasn’t really, but no. I was crying, crying everyday about someone who I thought was my forever. My forever who broke my heart. My forever who was also my first love. I was so foolish to think you would come back. And thought that for 6 months. 6 months, hoping you would come back, comfort me, tell me there isn’t another girl. Nobody knew how much I loved you, even you…eventually I gave up. I moved on Jay..there’s no..no chance..” you ranted out, crying..oh you wished you didn’t cry. Now Jay was looking at you in shock.. he knew you loved a lot but not this much..

“I’m sorry..that’s how it ended..I never meant it..” Jay wanted to hug you, hold you in his arms like the old days. “If you never meant it, why did you cheat then? Sorry isn’t going to cut it..” you said before leaving him standing there..not giving him time to reply..

Your next encounter was 2 years later when you and your fiancé, Heeseung, were out on a date, spending quality time together. You were busy holding hands and faced him, you didn’t notice someone was there. Making you bump into them.

“Babe! Watch out..” heeseung warned you.

“Huh what do you mea-“ before you could finish, you crashed into someone causing them to let out a grunt. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” You tried apologizing. You quickly look up and realize who the person was…

“J-Jay…” you say shocked. Jay also realized it’s you. You.

“Yn..is that really you??..” Jay said before pulling you into a hug. You awkwardly hug him back and pull away from the hug.. “it’s been years…” you said. The air was uncomfortable as you faced your ex-lover. “Yeah..it has..and who is this…” Jay referred to the unknown man standing next you staring at you and Jay.

“Oh this is my fiancé, Heeseung. Babe, this is my old friend, Jay” you said introducing them to each other. Fiancé..how?? Jay never thought you would move on from him..well it has been approximately 6 years since you had any sort of contact with him. How small is the world huh..?

“Did you say..f-fiancé..?” Jay managed to say. Still surprised. “Yes..fiancé..” you said nodding your head..

“Well nice to meet you, Jay, but me and Yn have to get going..” heeseung said while looking at Jay with stern eyes. Jay noticed his stare and awkwardly nodded. Heeseung knew who he was, and what he did to you. He hated and still hates him..because why would someone hurt someone so precious. “Right..” Jay responded. Heeseung starts walking away and you follow after, suddenly you stop. You turned around..

“Jay, I’m sorry…but this is how it ends..I wish you well…” you say running to catch up to heeseung. Jay watches you walk away. With the man who he thought was supposed to be him but will never be. He hopes you will be happy. It will make you happy. Tears now flow down his face..and a sad smile appears on his face.

“Thank you, thank you..for being my love..” he says softly and turns around walking alone in regret..for giving you 6 years of hell..

We’ll live in spaces between walls

.・✫・゜・。. .・✫・゜・。. .・✫・゜・。.・✫・゜

"Maybe in another world, you would have chosen me."

- K.L, Midnight thoughts #3 (via vodkapoetry)

Author’s note: thank you to this anon for the idea. And I didn’t think some will like it bc no lie I hated it. Like my writing isn’t the best but Ty!! I also did want to use this song for a fic and I took my opportunity!! And did bad with Sunghoon back in October soo.. also happy new year everyone let’s hope 2024 is a good year!!

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Movie Analysis: Henry's Seclusion and Perception-Part 2

A little follow-up of this post after I realized something while watching Henry flinch after Alex tried to hold his hand during their Paris date.

This is more up to interpretation but in the same way Henry was isolated in a space without any sort of moral support during the week after the email leaks while Alex wasn’t, I think the same could be possibly said with their view on public displays of affection.

I’m gonna preface by saying that even in the RWRB Movie verse, both UK and USA are evidently mostly LGBT+ friendly. Alex’s US kind of goes without saying, while for Henry, given the sheer amount of people that ended up coming to support him all across the country, I think the same could be said for his UK.

So given that their big environment is LGBT friendly, the difference here is their own circles.

Before President Claremont was elected, Alex was just like any of us, as he put it himself, “an anonymous working class kid”. His socializing circle wasn’t really limited. On top of that both of his parents are democrats. Even before he figured out his own bisexuality, he was definitely exposed to LGBT communities and individuals, colourful queer people who showed off their gender, sexuality and relationship/partner proudly. Besides, from his interaction with Nora, his mom, even Henry during the NYE party, Alex is clearly a physically affectionate person to begin with. He is used to displays of affection, and has see queer public displays of affection.

So when he starts to fall for Henry (which I firmly believed started properly since the state dinner), he doesn’t really register displays of affection as something to be hidden despite now being in a homosexual relationship. This aspect is not that different in his mind. The only times we see Alex really make an effort to conceal it is when they want to… do dirty things, like the polo match (Matthew/Prime release the full scene please) and the DNC hotel visit, which in any case is something that one would make effort to hide even for a bit.

Look at the movie again. Alex reaches out to hold Henry’s hand in Paris, Henry flinches. Alex steps forward to kiss Henry at the airstrip after the night in the V&A, Henry stops him, even if it’s private airstrip with only Henry’s staff. The one sentence Alex said that sent Henry spiralling and trying to break things off was “We could walk through Austin holding hands, and it won’t even matter if anyone sees us.” (which is one of my favourite lines in the book by the way, granted used in a different situation) Alex finds public displays of affection towards Henry very natural.

Henry doesn’t.

However much he loves touching and kissing Alex in private behind closed door throughout the entirety of their relationship, he was never comfortable, or confident for them in public settings, even if there’s actually no one except their own professional secret service/ personal staff there.

And I think one of the contributing reasons is unlike Alex, he never really got to see queer people be openly proud of their identity and partners.

Henry, as the prince, has his social circle and travels limited. You’re not gonna see him on the subway or walking through Trafalgar Square. He’s not gonna be able to walk the streets and just see queer citizens out and about the way Alex did. Given the context clues in the movie, I’m guessing he’s limited to causes the crown wants to serve (veterans, climate, diplomacy, which all have their own values as social issues but doesn’t suit Henry) and unlike the royals in our world (yes I pay some attention to the irl royal family) he couldn’t even choose topics that interest him, that he wants to serve, like arts, LGBT, and mental health (there’s a sequel idea!!! Henry getting to choose how to use his title for causes he’s part of and care about), plus it’s clear his family, the king at least, had no interest in getting involved with LGBT issues, so he didn’t have any chance to approach the community while on duty either. Considering his grandfather warned him against pursuing relationships when he was 18, he probably was forced into some sense of shame or fear regarding any possibility of having a public relationship, which was also part of his argument during the Kensington confrontation. Seeing as Nick and Matthew decided Paris was Henry’s first time with someone he actually had feelings for, I’m guessing past hookups in said “English Boarding School” were done out of sexual frustration and some degree of rebellion, but even then it was more on the sexual side instead of anything truly affectionate, and that was still extremely secretive with stacks of NDAs.

So on Henry’s part, he was secluded in a almost forcefully heteronormative environment, never really got to see people like him in real life, in front of his eyes (reading queer history and news about LGBT rights is very different from seeing it yourself), and was told that this was something to be ashamed about, something he can’t do, something impossible. That’s why he never felt confident enough to ask for touch or touch Alex in anywhere remotely public. (He was drunk at the karaoke, and I think most of the Texas vacation was on the Claremont-Diaz’s private property, so those don’t count)

Until the palace pride protest, where thousand of people like him came to storm the palace with their rainbow flags and banners, their support, and their own identities display.

Faces with this massive display of queer pride right in front of him, Henry, maybe for the first time, sees so many people like them, and he sees that it’s okay for him to be gay, that there is nothing selfish, shameful, repulsive or unacceptable about who he is and who he loves. They’re here for him. They’re just like him. They’re proud of it. They show it.

So this time, in front of his family, a window away from the outside world, it’s his turn to ask for Alex’s hand, held between his. He’s finally confident enough in everything so tell Alex, through a wet smile, “I love you.”

Both of them look out, at the sea of colourful love and pride. Alex, who has seen this many times before in his life, but probably the first time he sees this knowing he’s part of that sea. Henry, who gets to see the crowd be proud of something he’s tried so long to conceal and hide.

Henry can be proud of his sexuality too.

And he shows it, on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, with thousands of people cheering for him and his boyfriend. 

[hornyjockstrapman]

Part 1

The door to the elevator opened and I stepped in pressing the button for the lobby. The door closed behind me and I checked myself out in the reflection of the elevator door. I was wearing a pair of white short swimming trunks and a pair of black flip flops. I was carrying a small back pack which had sunscreen, a book, and my phone and a pair of headphones. The elevator stopped before I reached my destination. It came to quick stop and the door opened. A woman and a man stood at the entrance waiting for the door to fully open. They quickly stepped inside and the door closed fast behind them and begin to move again. The man was maybe 40 to 50 grey hair mixed in with more of a dominant black. Grey facial hair which again was mixed in with black. He was wearing a pair of swim shorts and a shirt. The woman he was with was wearing a bright pink bathing suit. There was quiet but awkward silence. It was welcoming to not have to exchange pleasantries even though it did feel weird not at least saying hi to them. I turned and glanced over at the guy who was standing with his back against the side wall of the elevator. The woman he was with was standing close to the elevator door hoping it would move faster. I decided, against my better judgement, to say hi to them. We did after all live in the same building. I had never seen them before but with my work schedule I didn't see much of anyone in my building. Also, I would normally take the stairs and didn't really stop to have a conversation, not even pleasantries, with anyone.

"Hi, you guys heading down to the pool today?" I asked trying my best not come across as being awkward or weird. The woman quickly responded "yes…that is why i'm in a bathing suit after all". She never broke eye contact with her phone. The guy she was with stood up solidly no longer with his back to the elevator. He leaned over and put his hand out "Hey, I'm Matt. And yeah we finally have some time and good weather so we decided why not get out of the apartment and go down to the pool." I shook his hand. I was happy to have sunglasses on so that Matt couldn't see my eyes and how much I was eyeing every inch of him. Matt stood back against the wall of the elevator. "Yeah, I hear you on that. Everything has been quite chaotic for me so I'm happy to have some time off just to decompress." I said softly. "Oh yeah? What kind of work do you do?" Matt asked. "I'm in IT…internal IT support for pretty much anything electronic". I replied back to him. "Oh nice. That's a solid profession to be in. I've been working as a therapist for about twenty years now and she's been the manager of a team of nurses at the local hospital for about ten years. So our life is chaos especially hers." He said as he took off his glasses and held them in his hands. "Oh I bet that does keep you two busy. I can't imagine all the stress of being a nurse. You all are truly life savers every single day. We owe nurses everything. And well therapist are life savers too. Mental health is such an under appreciated and under utilized part of health care." I said as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. The woman whom I never got her name stepped out of the elevator still looking down at her phone. She looked up for all of a minute and turned toward the pool. Matt stepped out of the elevator behind her and followed. I followed behind Matt. He was very well built. Not a lot of muscle but enough to show that he did work out. His legs were nicely toned with black hair covering every inch of them. The swimming shorts he had on didn't show off his butt or anything enough to make any sort of determination but Matt definitely had the dad bod going for him. Matt spoke quietly to her "you could have talked to him a bit you know he was giving your profession a lot of praise!" he said. She didn't respond. "Christine!" he said with a bit more tone. "Yes?" She said almost oblivious to what he had even said almost oblivious to anything anyone had said in the past five minutes. "Did you hear what I said?" he asked. "No. sorry. The girls at work are having a bit of a meltdown right now and I'm trying to sort this out over the phone." she said. She stopped and looked at him. "What happened? she asked. "The guy in the elevator was giving your profession…and mine a compliment and you didn't say anything." He said. They both continued to walk toward the pool. I could hear what they're were saying even though I was a few feet behind them.

[maplecornia]

chapter eight

m.list | sea of treasure m.list | bts m.list | ateez m.list | stray kids m.list | playlist

word count :: 3.5K

pairing(s) :: taehyung x female!reader | mingi x female!oc | hyunjin x female!oc | jimin x female!oc | jungkook x female!oc

genre :: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | idol au

summary :: “how can I hope to move on?” 

warnings (constantly updated) :: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2025 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language | mentions of rape | childhood trauma | multiple forms of abuse | mentions of blood and injuries | toxic relationships | mentions of alcohol and drugs | r*pe | assault | graphic depictions of all the above

taglist [OPEN] :: @myork | @eunbinism | @soobmint | @jaeyunverse | @hyunjxnxee | @yesv01 | @kpopppy | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @cana | @eridanuswave | @kodzuskook | @gongiz

Kallista was ready to go home. 

The music was beginning to give her a headache, her feet had grown sore from all the dancing, and her legs were starting to ache from all the clubs she had visited that night. In all the mayhem, she had lost track of the group that had adopted her for the night and after a few twists and turns down the crowded streets of Itaewon, found herself here. Alone, cold, and tired in an obscure club hidden deep within the crevices of multiple alleyways and street corners. 

She can only assume it is a nightclub meant for the celebrities of Korea to frequent, for in the past hour she has already spotted at least five or so idols and actors milling about the crowd, some even lounging in the VIP section at the back. A select few she recognizes from the posters Yen used to hang up on their apartment walls, and she smiles to herself at how jealous she would be if she heard Kallista just happened upon a club full of them. But then she remembers that Yen will soon be calling these celebrities her colleagues, so really what is there to be jealous of? And just as quickly as her smile had appeared, it fades away. 

Sighing, she turns from the crowd, and back to her drink. 

While there are plenty of fine-looking men and women frequenting the club, many of whom she's already succeeded in flirting with on the dance floor, Kallista has yet to find someone that catches her eye. Someone with whom she wouldn't mind spending a few moments of company, hopefully enough to last her through the night. 

Instead, for the past hour or so she has been sitting idly by at the bar, twirling her straw in a drink that has since grown lukewarm and untouched, as she surveys the room, looking for some sort of activity or event to spark her interest and coming up empty. 

In short, she was bored. 

And Kallista Davis HATES being bored. 

So when she gets the call, Melody's contact flashing up on her screen, she's all too happy to push her lukewarm drink away, flip off the man who had been leering over her shoulder for the past hour, and begin to make her desperate escape. 

And just as she does, he steps across the threshold of the club's entrance, quickly becoming victim to the scrutiny of the partygoer's eyes as they flash to him and stick like sweat to the back of his neck. 

For who would dare look away once they caught Jeon Jungkook's eye? 

Jungkook strolls reluctantly into the club, Kim Mingyu holding tight to his forearm as he drags him through the crowd, straight towards the tables in the VIP section that Kallista had been eyeing not a moment ago. Mingyu murmurs to Jungkook incoherently, pointing out multiple different forms of single women across the floor. Suggestions that Jungkook is quick to turn down, his face cold and hard with pretension as he makes his way to the tables. 

"What about her?" 

"No." 

"Her?" 

"Mingyu, I swear to God." 

Jungkook is grateful for the brief reprieve as he plops down on the couch encircling the table, and Mingyu pauses from his continued pestering to order them a round of drinks. However, it is short lived as the server leaves and Mingyu turns to Jungkook with a smirk quickly growing on his face. 

"How about him?" 

"Mingyu..." 

"What?" Mingyu sighs, squeezing onto the couch beside him. "He was clearly making eyes at you." 

"Oh my God." Jungkook allows his face to fall into his hands as he shakes his head, hoping that perhaps this will erase the pounding headache that has already begun to throb through his skull. 

"Don't know why you're so touchy, it's not as if you've never hooked up with a guy before," Mingyu mumbles, reaching for the peanuts that decorate the tablecloth and leaving Jungkook speechless. 

"That isn't--I didn't--I don't know--" Mingyu smirks at his flustered state, complete with the red hot cheeks and fury in his eyes. Jungkook can barely manage to shove his friend over before he jams his hands into the peanuts and he begins munching on them himself. "What are we even doing here, anyway?" 

"I'm hurt," Mingyu pouts, "I thought you liked hanging out with me." 

"I did. Before you got it in your head that I'm some lovesick idiot." 

Mingyu snorts, jostling Jungkook's shoulder a bit as he leans back against the comfortable couch cushions. 

"You are a lovesick idiot." 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, exasperated. 

"How many times do I have to tell you?" When the waiter returns with their drinks, Jungkook falls quiet. Before Mingyu can say or do anything, Jungkook shoves his elbow into his stomach and nods to the waiter, passing him a tip before he walks away. 

Ignoring the way Mingyu has curled up into a fetal position, coughing violently, Jungkook reaches for one of the many glasses the waiter left behind and downs a shot in one quick gulp before speaking again. 

"I'm not interested in moving on."

"Why not?" Mingyu manages to say between coughs. "There are a million people who'd bend over backward just for a chance to see you, much less sleep with you." 

Jungkook spares him a glance as Mingyu recovers and reaches for the liquor, wincing a bit as the bitter taste makes its way down his throat. 

"I'm not interested." 

"Oh come on, what was so special about this girl anyway?" 

Jungkook swallows hard, avoiding Mingyu's eyes as he reaches for another shot. "I don't expect you to understand." 

"Good, because I don't." Mingyu scoffs. "Why get hung up on her when you can have anyone else? Bonus points if you can find someone that isn't in love with your best friend and creates a rift between you and your teammates." 

When Jungkook sets his empty glass down, it shakes the table, sloshing the liquid in the remaining glasses that spot the surface.  

"Why do I even tell you anything?" Jungkook hisses, glaring at him viciously. Mingyu rolls his eyes, almost as though he were used to this kind of response from his friend. 

"You know I'm right." Jungkook clenches his jaw, refusing to meet Mingyu's eyes as he turns to him. "I mean, look at how many people are here, look how many are already making eyes at you at this very moment! You can't find anyone else you'd rather be with than her?" 

Mingyu is right.

Half of the club was watching him, and had been ever since he entered, Mingyu clinging to his arm. He could feel them, piercing at his back as though if they looked hard enough they could manage to burn a hole straight through him. 

While it has gotten a bit easier over the years to ignore their stares, it's always been impossible to erase them. They've remained a constant reminder of who he was, a tickle burning hot at the back of his neck refusing to let him forget his place as their idol. They always follow him, burning hot and blistering, watching him and every move he makes. 

It didn't matter if he wore his hat and sunglasses tonight to hope to somewhat mask his identity, nor if he had tried his best to dress inconspicuously to not draw attention, his mere existence drew all eyes to him.

It always does. 

He knows better than anyone what half the world would give to be with him. What they would do just to stand beside him, to get even one night with him amongst an eternity of others. Perhaps the notion should flatter him, perhaps he should take his friend's advice and make use of their attraction, their desire to try and ease his own broken heart. 

But he cannot.

For the only thing he can think of when he looks out into the crowd is how much he longs for her to be there. How when he feels their stares he can't help but look over his shoulder to hope that he'll find her smiling back at him like she had once before. Foolishly hoping that one day she will long for him as much as he longs for her, and living with the disappointment, the dreadful knowledge that his hope is nothing more than that. 

Foolish. 

"None of them are her." He murmurs, half to himself, and it isn't until Mingyu shouts to him over the music that he realizes he has said anything at all. 

"What?!" 

"Nothing." Jungkook chuckles nervously, shaking his head as he reaches for another glass of liquor. Hoping to possibly drown everything out with the bitter taste. "Look, can't we just go? I--"

That's when he sees her. 

It was just a glance to the side. A brief overlook of the crowd. That was all it took for his eyes to latch onto her. All it took for all reason and thought to escape him, his words falling numb on his tongue. 

She stands, tall and slender, with scarce clothing covering her limber limbs as she paces slightly in agitation, animatedly speaking on the phone. The lights dance across her skin, glimmering like stars in her dark eyes, as her tightly bound hair swishes around her slim waist each time she turns.

In a word, she is dazzling.

So dazzling that Jungkook sits there, frozen, his eyes unable to move away from her. Struck still each time those obsidian irises dare to glance his way, but not really see him. Holding onto the precipice of expectation of recognition, only to have her glance over him as though he were another nobody in the crowd, rather than the idol he has been forced to live up to his whole life. 

And he finds himself longing to meet her, to know her name, to hear what her voice sounds like, what words she's saying to the person on the other line, to be able to know her like he once wished he knew Yen. 

"Melody, I can't understand you." 

Kallista isn't aware of Jungkook's eyes on her, after all, what's one more pair of eyes amongst a throng of others that have ogling at her for the entire night?

She's always been used to the attention, some may say she even craves it at times. It's nothing new to her, being the object of other's desires, and over the years she has used that desire to her advantage.

Use them up before they use you, leave them always wanting more, never let them get the upper hand, and never ever allow foolish things such as feelings get in the way of clear, rational thought. 

However, this mindset has hindered her perception of other, arguably more important things, such as emotions and empathy. Things that could be handy when dealing with a sniffling child on the opposite line.

"I saw her." 

Melody finds herself pacing, in a dark street, in front of a lone convenience store, the bus, and its driver, long since gone. She can't seem to recall how she ended up here, nor when she stepped out of the vehicle and began moving down the lone streets of Seoul. The only thing she can remember is the ongoing flow of tears blurring her vision and the incessant, numbing pain that has continued to tear her heart into pieces ever since she left her sister at that bus stop, not even an hour ago. 

She sniffles as she holds her phone with shaky hands, trying to wipe away the tears that have already begun to stain her skin in their wet, salty onslaught. 

"Who?" 

Melody sighs at the question. "Who else, Kalli?" 

It takes Kallista a moment to realize, her attention a little preoccupied with a small fight that has broken a few yards away. She hums in amusement for a moment before gasping sharply and turning from the distraction, as the answer comes to her. 

"You saw Yen?" 

Melody stops in her tracks at the mention of her sister's name, and her lips tremble, her voice wavering when she dares speak again. 

"Yes."

"Oh, Mels." Kallista swallows hard, an equal amount of sympathy and panic rising in her throat as she hears the thick, pitiful, whimper on the other line. "What happened?" 

"I hate that nickname," Melody wails, her heightened emotions finally taking over and all reasonable and rational thought escaping her. 

Shit. 

Jungkook should be grateful that Kallista is too preoccupied scrambling for the best way to calm her best friend's sister down, when it was her best friend who caused this dilemma in the first place. If she wasn't, she may have heard Mingyu's unnecessarily loud protests even from her spot across the club. 

"Why not?!" 

"Dude, shut up." 

Jungkook smiles nervously at the few partygoers who heard the outburst and manages to dazzle them enough to look away, at least for the time being. But that temporary distraction won't last for long if Mingyu cannot learn to shut up.

"Oh come on, man!" Jungkook sends him a glare, but it only manages to quiet Mingyu a few decibels as he continues. He gestures toward Kallista, who is still attempting to calm down Melody over the phone. "She's exactly your type. Ask for her number, send her a drink or something!"

Jungkook sighs, peeling his eyes away from Kallista once more and trying his best to focus on the leftover, melting ice cubes in his glass. 

"The answer is no." 

For the first time that night, Mingyu drops his happy-go-lucky facade and reveals the worry hidden deep underneath. 

His concern goes far beyond wanting his friend to get laid. Ever since their performance all those months ago, he has noticed Jungkook almost disappear into himself. It's not just anger that plagues him, it's almost as though there's this heavy weight of melancholy and misery hanging over him. It's twisted him, made him into someone that Mingyu hardly recognizes.

At this point, he wonders if even Jungkook can even recognize himself.

Mingyu may make jokes, and he may push too much, but he cares deeply about his friend, and he hates seeing him this way.

So hurt and dejected. So angry and helpless. 

All he wants to do is help, but he can't if Jungkook isn't willing to help himself. 

"Can I level with you?" 

"Do you ever do anything else?" 

"You have to let her go." 

The words surprise him, and when he looks at Mingyu next, he's thrown off by the innate concern written on his face. Mingyu doesn't try to hide it or play it off as something unimportant, as he usually would do. All he does is fix Jungkook with that look in his eyes, making it hard for him to turn away. 

"She doesn't feel the same way as you do. I know you feel betrayed, I know you're angry, but you can't keep doing this."

Jungkook swallows hard. He knows what he will say next, he knows what he's been waiting to say ever since Jungkook showed up on his doorstep, angry and confused the night after the performance. They are words that he himself has repeated in his mind during late nights when she was the only thing on his mind. Words that echoed in his member's eyes when he forced them to choose sides. 

"And what exactly am I doing?" 

"Hoping she'll change her mind." 

Jungkook scoffs. 

Jungkook may be familiar with these words, but he does not want to hear them. He does not want to recognize them, to provide them with any meaning or acknowledgement, lest he make those words true. 

"You're wrong." 

"Then prove it," Mingyu smirks, nodding back to Kallista once Jungkook's eyes meet his. "Send her a drink."

With that, Mingyu stands to join the chaos of the dance floor, leaving Jungkook behind with his thoughts. Jungkook swallows hard, shaking his head as he turns away, and finds his eyes locked on Kallista once more

"Melody please, you have to calm down." 

"I-I can't! You weren't there!" Melody has since sat down on a picnic table located outside of the convenience store, furiously wiping her tears away only for a couple hundred more to quickly warm her cheeks and take their place. "You should have seen her face, Kallista. She looked so hurt, so guilty, and I just left her there!" 

Melody thinks back to the way Yen stood there, staring after the bus as she left her behind. The deep sadness in her eyes, the unspoken pain hidden deep within the mask she still feels she must maintain even with the knowledge that Melody can see through it. But most prevalent was the guilt. The guilt that has been eating at her sister's heart ever since she left Melody behind that night. 

The guilt that now tears Melody apart, piece by piece.

"I don't even know if she got home safe or if she's okay. I feel terrible, but then I think, doesn't she deserve it? She did all this to me, so doesn't she deserve to feel some kind of pain, remorse even?"

"Sweetie, you're rambling." Kallista murmurs, which only leads to another breakdown from Melody as she hides her head in her arms, her shoulders shaking pitifully with her sobs.

"You don't understand." 

"I think I understand fine." 

"No, you don't!" 

Kallista winces in pain, pulling the phone away to rub her ear at the sharp feedback.

"Okay, fine I don't, I'm sorry." She sighs when Melody doesn't answer her, rubbing her temple as she wanders to try and find a place where it's quieter. Perhaps a bit closer to the bar. "Look, do you need me to come get you? Take you home or whatever?" 

"W-what?" 

"Melody? Can you hear me?" 

Melody pulls her phone away from her ear, only to find that her battery is at one percent, and draining fast. Panicking, she snatches it, trying to explain the situation to Kallista with what little time she has left. 

"Kallista? Are you still there?" 

"Melody? I can't hear you--" 

But with one harsh click, the line is disconnected and as Melody pulls the phone away, she sees that her phone has finally died. 

"Perfect." 

Still reeling from her breakdown, and a few stray tears making their way down her cheeks, she stands from the picnic table, almost running into a couple exiting the store. She apologizes quickly, bowing slightly and seeing the bottles of alcohol they carry. The couple says something in response to her apology, but Melody isn't listening to them. 

She stares at the convenience store doors, spying the alcohol on the back shelves. She ponders for a moment, and almost turns away, but at the last minute she turns on her heel and enters the store. 

Kallista curses under her breath as she pulls the phone away and sees the line disconnected. After clicking a few buttons she's able to see where Melody's last location was and immediately shoves her phone in her purse. She stands, ready to leave, but is stopped in her tracks as a bartender places a drink in front of her. She looks up at him, confused. 

"I didn't order anything." 

The bartender smirks, as though this were an everyday occurrence, and nods across the room towards the VIP section, right at the booth where Jungkook sits, waiting in anticipation. 

"Courtesy of the man across the floor, ma'am." 

Bewildered, Kallista tries to protest, but the bartender steps away to tend to a group of women who have arrived, shouting boisterously for drinks. Sighing, and a little perturbed, Kallista turns, following his gaze. Searching for the man who was foolish enough to interrupt her grand escape. 

But when she finds Jungkook's eyes staring right at her, she finds herself struck still and speechless. 

She would be a fool if she didn't know who he was. The dark hair, the sparkling brown eyes, the arched brow, and the fit physique…If anything she would be more surprised if a single soul in this club didn't recognize him, not to mention the whole world. No, the more important question here is why he sent her the drink, why those eyes are looking straight at her, why he can't seem to look away even when she does, even for a moment.

After a while, she can't help but smile, turning back to the drink he sent her. She spies the napkin that sits underneath it, a simple message written in careful English. 

Join me?

It's only two words, but it makes her laugh, and she immediately glances over her shoulder to catch him smirking bashfully as he looks away for the first time. Even from here, she can see the blush rising on his cheeks, though he may try his best to hide it with the bill of his hat and she can't help but chuckle. Biting the inside of her cheek she considers the offer and almost decides against it, but once those dark eyes come to meet hers once more, she finds she cannot refuse. 

"Sorry, Melody." She murmurs as she grabs the drink, glancing up at him over the glass rim when she takes a sip. "I'm no longer bored." 

CH. 09 coming soon

[mental-health-advice]

All my life the majority of my friends have had either something serious going on, some sort of trauma, some big mental health issue, have been at least somewhat suicidal, have wanted to and done SH, and or have needed a lot of emotional support. I’m so so tired. The question may sound rude but I need advice, please.

How do I stop attracting these types of people as friends? They are valid, but I cannot handle them being suicidal all the time, all of their various mental health issues, their trauma. It has been much of my life and I cannot take anymore from people. I want to meet healthy and at least mostly stable people. I typed out a whole thing describing things, but it was long and unnecessary.

Please, I am going to be in a situation where I can make new friends, and I do not want to get stuck in the same situation again, like the last times. I can’t keep doing this, it only makes my mental health dramatically worse.

Hey there,

This is not a rude question to ask at all and you are so right in saying that it can be really difficult to draw ourselves out of the circle of knowing and being friends with people who may be somewhat more stable than those that you know currently who are really struggling themselves as well. At the same time, it’s also a really difficult question to answer as sometimes we are just drawn towards a certain group of people and there is no rime or reason to it. This is something that I am still struggling to work out myself as I too am prone to meeting and making friends with those who like me, struggle with their own mental health stuff of varying degrees.

I think though the most important thing to know though is that in the beginning when you first start to struggle with your own mental health it is only normal to be drawn to those people who struggle with similar things to yourself as it can help to bring a person comfort knowing that they are not alone and that there are others out there that struggle with their own mental health too. This can then draw out throughout the years, even when you start to work on and begin to improve yourself with your own mental health, and then from there it can just be automatic to continue to be drawn or attracted to the same people like you and to find yourself as being kind of like the emotional support or ‘counsellor’ type of person for them.

In answer to your question though, I think that it’s great that you have been able to acknowledge and separate your needs right now and the types of friends you are wanting to have currently in your life, this is step one. Step two may look something like having a positive mind set and knowing exactly what you are wanting or expecting from new friends - for if you don’t know what it is you are looking for then it’s all too easy to fall back to past patterns of making friends who are struggling with their own stuff. Also keep in mind that no matter what kind of new friends that you make, it’s always OK to let the other person know if you are unable to support them emotionally with whatever they are needing from you at the time. Just gently let them now that you are not in a great place yourself to be able to support another person but let them know of other resources or supports that they can access to get the help/ support they are needing if you can. Sometimes it can also be helpful to just start a fresh with new friends, for example, getting to know them but not feeling pressured to share information about your past if you are not comfortable in doing so – this may also help to deter others from seeking help and support from you in copious amounts if you take things slowly and draw a line between what you choose to share with them and what you don’t want them to know in the beginning or at all.

Making new friends can be and is difficult for a lot of people and especially trying to find those friends that match to where you are in life right now. If you focus on the positives on life though and not talk as much about your own struggles then you may find that the friendship stays as being just that – a friendship without the need to support the other person in ways that is detrimental to your own mental health.

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going OK!

Take care,

Lauren

[capriciouscaprine]

oooooops, accidentally called out my mom about her weird eating habits yesterday! (followed by my usual rambling about this fun little body hobby we share)

she was fussing about me not getting everything out of her car when I was helping her out (she had told me to do one specific thing, which I had done), and I joked that I didn't want to be asking questions about all of her stuff, and when she said, 'like what?', I said, 'oh, you know, all of your rice cakes' which she has also mildly joked about before (she'll have more than one pack open at a time rolling around in the passenger seat), but this time she got all serious and mumbled something about wanting to look good for my cousin's wedding in July (when she's been buying them for 10+ years now at least)

I handled it in the moment by pointing out that she's made it this far in life and has friends who love her no matter what (of course this means nothing for how you feel about yourself), and she just brushed it off and moved on

meanwhile, I'm HYPED to stick to what I've been doing and work towards being even more consistent and doing more aka consuming less

from other people's comments and behaviors towards me, I seem to be teetering on the edge of 'are you okay?'/being 'too' small (5'4", one-thirty at last check, skele just barely beginning to pop out) with about four months still to go before this wedding with all the relatives who are very supportive of each other but still gossip about which eating plans each of them and their friends are doing

I WILL be their warning, their omen, the representation of what happens when you take that sort of talk to the extreme, because ultimately there is no way to be, essentially, fatphobic in moderation

once you value being small and alter your life to chase that even as it makes you miserable, there is no way to do that in a healthy way:

if you are healthy, you are working out because you value the strength and flexibility of your body or the camaraderie of the gym, you eat a variety of vegetables and proteins because they are tasty and keep you full and energized, and you enjoy your drinks and desserts because they're tasty and fulfill you emotionally; a scale might be informative, but mostly because it's good to know if your weight changes suddenly, because it could be an indicator of a health issue of some sort (tumors can show up as weight gain, a digestive illness can present as a loss, etc)

we aren't healthy, and we (should) know that; restricting, doing only liquids for days at a time, straight up pacing to hit step goals, consuming media specifically to encourage all of our behaviors, etc: all symptoms of a particular illness that we would claim openly on here except for the part where our blogs keep disappearing over it

the younger folks among us might not realize it consciously (and some older folks, too), but we're all here because of societal fatphobia that values being tiny over being healthy; there are SO MANY people who are considered medically overweight that are by all other metrics perfectly healthy, but their doctors aren't satisfied until they're under a certain BMI, even if that results in muscle loss, anemia, etc.; fat people are uniformly treated worse for doing the exact same things as skinny people (eating, sweating, shopping, existing), to the extent that they are on average paid less for doing the exact same job as a thin person

anecdotally, I've noticed that the people on here who acknowledge this and work to combat internalized fatphobia (no 'fat inspi', no using fat folks as a comparison in 'unkind inspi', no making fun of other people to motivate yourself) often seem to have better mental health than the folks who indulge in it; reacting negatively, even in your own head, to someone simply existing while fat just keeps your brain full of negativity, which, we have a famous phrase relating to that sort of thinking: 'if shame worked, it would have worked already'

your 'why' can't just be 'to not be fat'; there's nothing wrong with being fat, and in plenty of situations it's even beneficial for your health

which, to circle back, alllllllll of my relatives, every 'mainstream' adult I've heard talk about traditional eating less culture (excuse me for avoiding potential no-no words) with their no breakfast/only nuts for lunch/pull the crust off bread/whatever 'rules' or branded eating plans, all of them are only trying to not be fat

and all of them are failing at it

to be 'successful' at what we are doing, you must be clear on how our goals are not to be healthy and knowingly, consistently engage in unhealthy habits, all the while pretending that you totally aren't doing that and everything is fine

we really don't want to encourage anyone to be like us, because we want them to be happy without restrictions; we just know that once you're in here, you know there are advantages (attention, kindness from strangers, improved salary, being listened to by doctors, getting gendered correctly, and more) to be claimed by sacrificing that happiness in specific ways, and we will unashamedly share those specific ways with each other

[heavensbeehall]

Still More Chapter 19

It seems like [the Arena was built for District 4] it, anyway, with all the water, when I bet only a handful of the victors can swim. And there was no pool in the Training Center, no chance to learn. Either you came in here a swimmer or you'd better be a really fast learner. Even participation in the initial bloodbath depends on being able to cover twenty yards of water. That gives District 4 an enormous advantage.

Some readers have speculated that Snow wanted Finnick to win, so he could keep selling him. This is highly possible. But we know from Plutarch that arenas are built in a day and this one was being put together before the Quell announcement. I suppose they could have added water to the center--if there was sand or simply shallow water?--fairly easily.

It's also possible the Arena has salt water because Plutarch wanted to make sure Finnick got to the Cornucopia first, since Finnick seems to have the most information on the plan of all the tributes (besides perhaps Beetee).

But REGARDLESS, I do like the idea that Snow thought he'd be hindering everyone but Finnick with the water and Katniss is like "lol my dad taught me to swim in that lake YOU KNOW ABOUT, idiot."

A quick survey of the rest of the arena shows that most of the tributes are still trapped on their plates. Wait, no, there's someone standing on the spoke to my left, the one opposite Peeta. It's Mags. But she neither heads for the Cornucopia nor tries to flee. Instead she splashes into the water and starts paddling toward me, her gray head bobbing above the waves.

I just want to point out that Mags seems to have swum from her plate towards Peeta, avoiding the Cornucopia because she knew they would all meet up there. And I sort of picture her having a grand ol' time.

My grandfather lived on the beach and he swam all the time (he died at 82 so he was even older than Mags), even when we felt the water was too cold. He thought we were wimps.

Finnick has reached Peeta now and is towing him back, one arm across his chest while the other propels them through the water with easy strokes

This is a fairly common lifeguard tow for heavy surf. Where's my Baywatch/District 4 spinoff?

[Mags] is one of the few people who actually likes me.

I'll probably get into my theories on Finnick's mental health situation later, but what I think he means here is "Mags is one of the few people who actually knows me and still likes me."

"Katniss has remarkably good judgement."

I like how they all bond over the fact that Mags is awesome.

"...no one in this arena was a victor by chance." He eyes Peeta for a moment. "Except maybe Peeta." Finnick knows then what Haymitch and I know. About Peeta. Being truly, deep-down better than the rest of us. Finnick took out that tribute from 5 without blinking an eye. And how long did I take to turn deadly? I shot to kill when I targeted Enobaria and Gloss and Brutus. Peeta would at least have attempted negotiations first. Seen if some wider alliance. But to what end? Finnick's right. I'm right. The people in this arena weren't crowned for their compassion.

I hold his gaze, weighing his speed against my own. The time it will take to send an arrowthrough his brain versus the time his trident will reach my body. I can see him, waiting for me to make the first move. Calculating if he should block first or go directly for an attack. I can feel we've both about worked it out when Peeta steps deliberately between us.

I like this exchange because it's the beginning of Katniss thinking everyone knows how great her man is, even though they haven't known him very long. (Here it kind of sounds like she thinks Finnick might be into him, which makes the "kiss" at the beginning of the next chapter even funnier to me.)

And then Peeta does the exact thing Katniss thought Peeta would've done at the Cornucopia. Because he is a sweetie. (Though Katniss seems to have forgotten he killed in the previous arena and didn't try to negotiate with Cato.)

In summation: Peeta and Mags are really carrying this alliance, despite the two of them being figuratively carried (by Katniss in Peeta's case) and literally carried (by Finnick in Mags' case).

[werebiyourside]

Biphobia - The Fear of Fears

As discussed in the first post on this blog, biphobia is generally described as “The internalized or outward disdain for the bi orientation”. This, like all terms I will talk about here, can get brushed aside with thoughts like “Is that really a thing?” or “Many people in the LGBT+ community deal with this sort of thing; what makes a bi version of it so different?” My own answer to that is the fact of how overlooked bisexuality and biromantics are in these types of issues, and how little research seems to be seen by both the public and researchers alike. Many in the LGBT+ community get their representation through gay or lesbian stories - either biographical or scripted in shows or movies - and not much thought in public media is given towards the orientation right in the middle.

Case in point is Pennasilico’s explanation of how these terms are different from things like homophobia, and the specific “threats” society puts on bisexuality. The study points out what they call the binary phrases that distances that bi community from society, talking about how a gay or lesbian person “plays for the other team” or “swings the other way”, and how it still signifies society’s thought that you can only like one specific gender. This also brings into focus the monogamistic view of society, and how bi orientations create both a fear of a solid sexual orientation in peoples’ eyes - a need to have a grounded yes or no to liking one specific gender - and also the fear of opening doors to “sex-blind” talks that question well documented sex separatisms that also affect transgender and intersex communities. With what feels like the foundation of the modern society being shaken, it’s easy to fear something that many of the public could call promiscuous and the lust of immoral relationships, and for people within the LGBT+ community to feel threatened by an orientation that could, in their minds, hurt the progress that lesbians and gays had made (2019, pp.23-24).

Morrison et. al’s main purpose of their research was to prove that these fears existed. An online questionnaire with over 300 participants from an institution in West Canada was studied, as well as online forms with mostly North American origins, were studied to see negative attitudes towards bisexual men and bisexuality. They observed in their study that heterosexuals were more biphobic and discounted bisexuality more, but that gay men also discounted it more than any other part of the LGBT+ community questioned. It also shows that the storied way bisexuality is presented to the public can change the way a person views bisexuality, taking into account how much the media and common stereotypes mattered in their research (2016, pp.9-13). 

Both of their studies show how public fear of bisexuality and how it’s presented can create biphobia. With that, it’s imperative that the representation of bisexuality become more accepted and varied, and that informed discussions on what bisexuality actually is are had to abolish old stereotypes and misconceptions. Of course, this is just the beginning of misrepresentation that we will discuss, and I know it won’t be the last. But if we all take a step towards trying to learn and accept the bi community, it would make a world of difference. And, no matter what, at least this little blog will be bi your side.

Citations

Morrison, K. E., Gruenhage, J. M., & Pedersen, C. L. (2016). Challenging binaries by saying good bi: Perceptions of bisexual men's identity legitimacy. Journal of Bisexuality, 16(3), 361-377.

Pennasilico, A. (2019). The invisi_les: Biphobia, bisexual erasure and their impact on mental health. The Invisi_les: Biphobia, Bisexual Erasure and Their Impact on Mental Health, 22-28.

[healthcarespeed]

Creating The Switch Over: Exactly How To Shift To A Far Healthier Way Of Life

In a world where convenience food is a heartbeat away and the chair seems continually appealing, transitioning to a healthier lifestyle belongs to starting a mission for the divine grail. Yet similar to in the tales, where the ideal compass and also the wise guide brought about excellence, the adventure to a healthier you is effectively available. Allow's discover the measures that can easily enhance this intimidating mission in to a manageable truth.

Assess Your Present State of Health

Just before scuba diving right into any sort of project, recognizing the starting point is vital. In the realm of health, it starts along with a straightforward assessment. Consider your diet plan, workout routines, tension amounts, rest trends, and also mental well-being. Are actually there constant problems like constant exhaustion, body weight complications, or even stress-related symptoms? Recognizing these is actually essential as it establishes the stage for the modifications required. Explore the world of wellness, physical fitness, and supplements with new-fitness.com web site for trusted relevant information as well as effective methods.

Understanding Your Habits

Examine your everyday habits. Do you frequently take in high-sugar beverages? Is fast-food a staple in your diet? Are you investing many hours a time in non-active tasks? These habits, commonly subconsciousness, are the foundation of your health. Recognizing all of them is the 1st step towards transforming them.

Watering the Plant of Healthy And Balanced Eating

Health and nutrition is the keystone of really good wellness. Begin through incorporating even more whole meals into your diet. Vegetables, fruits, whole grains, healthy healthy proteins, and also healthy and balanced fats need to form the mass of your dishes. Steadily decrease processed foods as well as foods higher in sugarcoated as well as sodium. Tiny, continuous improvements are actually much more sustainable than drastic diet overhauls.

Crafting Your Fitness Program

Physical exertion is non-negotiable when crafting a much healthier lifestyle. Start through locating a physical exercise or activity that you appreciate. Perhaps as easy as a regular stroll or even as energised as joining a Zumba lesson. The key is actually to make it a routine, trying for at the very least 150 minutes of moderate-intensity workout weekly.

The Power of Preparation: Getting ready for your fitness experience is as crucial as the quest itself. Planning your workouts, select the style, place, as well as time in advancement. Spend in excellent exercise attire and outfit as these small preparations can easily motivate you and also strengthen your commitment to this new lifestyle.

Reactivating along with Rest: Rest and also recuperation are equally necessary elements of an active way of living. Create certain to get adequate rest, which normally indicates 7-9 hrs for adults. Include remainder times into your exercise routine to stop fatigue as well as enable your body to bounce back appropriately.

Changing Your Mindset: A sensible change in the direction of a healthier lifestyle is actually a mental video game. It's certainly not almost a bodily improvement; it's about transforming your connection along with your body and also wellness.

The Art of Self-Motivation

Discover your 'why'. Whether it's to lead through instance for your household or to feel great and spirited, anchoring your quest to a personal motivation makes it even more effective. Visualize the advantages of a much healthier lifestyle, including managing to stay up to date with your youngsters or even climbing a tour of staircases without panting.

Interacting the Community

Look for help from close friends, loved ones, or maybe on the internet communities. Discussing your objectives can easily make them a lot more concrete as well as make accountability. Involving with others on similar experiences can easily offer motivation and ideas. Always remember, one biscuit does certainly not reverse all your effort, equally as one healthy and balanced dish carries out not perfect your diet. It is actually the total of our steady selections that shape our health and wellness. So, if you mistake, recognize it, and also continue along with your more healthy lifestyle.

Transitioning to a much healthier way of life is actually a private quest, loaded with its personal distinct challenges and also accomplishments. Through embracing the above mentioned methods, certainly not just can you produce maintainable changes but likewise find an additional lively and also satisfied variation of your own self. Each tiny measure is a success, driving you ahead on the path to wellness.

[realisationanddoubt]

Unleashing repression

I've been putting this off for a little while but apparently I'm mentally healthy enough that I can't repress things as well as I used to. A palpable irony to that. It means that current circumstances have actually affected me far more than I would expect.

It's always exacerbated by relationship issues. That's always the way isn't it. It was supposed to be casual. That's always the way too, huh? We agreed. I checked in so many times and you always agreed it should be casual. You were lying though. I suppose I knew it too. Things were always a little tense. You'd fly off the handle when I spoke to basically anyone but you. You were possessive over me before you ever had a right to be. Yet I pursued. Because I was lonely. Because I enjoyed the physical affection.

It was stupid of me. Of both of us. Everyone I've spoken to about it says it's not my fault. I was clear. I constantly communicated. Yet I saw the red flags and ignored them. You certainly think it's my fault. That I used you. When you seemed ready to actually date I asked you if you wanted to date me and you shot me down.

I don't know where I stand here. It reminds me of my relationship with Nichola in a way but I don't know if I'm over adjusting. You've said some things that have really hurt me. If I choose to discard that as just mean things am I being overly sensitive? Am I being self-centred, only thinking about myself?

It's so easy for me to believe I'm at fault. Therapy hasn't been able to fully take that away. I'm better than I was though. Better at rationalising, at examining. So let's examine.

I'm struggling to think it through properly. It's as if I've put up an emergency wall. Fenced it all in to avoid it. I suppose the first step is to figure out why. I know why the fence is there of course. It's because my self-esteem is too fragile. If I pick at this scab and find that I'm in the wrong it feels like it will confirm everything my past traumas said to me.

I'm not wrong though, am I. Keep going, don't let this train of thought escape you. I make stupid decisions sometimes, everyone does. You're insecurities weren't mine to control though. I saw what I thought to be red flags but it would be arrogant of me to assume it was my duty to control your feelings. I'm not responsible for how you feel just as you aren't for me. No one can control another person to that extent. I know this. I've tried. Far too many times with far too many people. Tried to keep them happy at all cost. Tried to make myself so small, so convenient in a bid to make others lives easier. I didn't this time. To begin with at least. I definitely did towards the end. I faltered. It happens.

It wasn't casual because I only wanted sex. It was casual because you were already with someone. Unhappily of course. Someone you'd told many times you didn't love, told him you were only together for the kids. I couldn't invest in that though. Not again. I couldn't tie myself to someone who would possibly never leave their life for me. I've played that game a million times. After you did leave him I did try to pursue you but then it was too late. Honestly, us being together in any form would have undoubtably been devastating to my mental health. I was more than willing to let you break me down all over again

You did I suppose. I didn't want to get angry or upset with you. I couldn't. Every time we saw one another it was an insight into what I did wrong. That's how it always is I suppose. Never a flurry, just a constant trickle that erodes.

It's almost like the old me vs the new me. The habits of giving in, relenting, trying to change for someone every time they bring up issues is ingrained deeply in me. But I am someone else now too. There's that part of me that can stand up. Tell myself I deserve better than that.

It sets about a sort of crisis. Trying to not people-please. Trying to live up to expectations. The reality is though, you wanted me to be someone I'm not. You wanted me to not display any traits of mental health issues. Not allowed to be depressed because it made you not feel wanted. Not allowed to forget or be impulsive ala ADHD because it made you feel like you didn't know where I stood.

I think that's the crux of it. We could never understand one another. To you anything I did was with malice. You said I only supported you to fuck you despite the fact we were friends for almost 5 years prior to anything happening. Despite the fact it was just a drunken night that we agreed to keep on a casual basis.

I am not broken, cruel, malicious as you often imply. I'm just different. I just think differently. Any time I meet someone with those neurodiverse traits they understand instantly. Hell, even most people who are neurotypical seem to understand my intentions.

I've discussed this with friends but never with myself. I defaulted back to my old crutches. External validation. It's taken me a long time to get any kind of internal validation and it's ok that I struggled to apply validation to myself. This is the first scenario post therapy that has challenged these issues.

I went through this with my mother. With Nichola. Now with you. This insistent that I am wholly responsible for their mood. That it is me that needs to fix it. That I need to tend to all your needs and emotions, I need to make you feel secure, I need to be the one to do it all.

I don't though. Not anymore. It took some time to get here but less than the last two times. I'm getting better. There is nothing to even forgive myself for. I would be mortified at the idea of trying to make someone solely responsible for my emotions and self-worth now. I've been there too.

I continue to improve on myself. I don't yet have that confidence to know when I'm in the right. Or perhaps it would be arrogance to be that sure of myself. I don't even know. But I'm doing better than yesterday. That is all that I can ask of myself.

I tried really hard to consider every point you brought up. Nothing I did was good enough. You always acted as if I wasn't good enough. Talking to you makes me feel like a shitty person. I'm not though. I'm just not. That shouldn't be so hard for me to type.

I persist. Despite mental health issues, despite relationship issues, despite everything I will continue to persist. I matter. I matter to me. I'm worth more than this.

[kthynes]

the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.

warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health

**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.

If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!

-end rant-

This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:

@princess-evans-addict

@mrs-djokovic

@slut-for-chris-evans

@saltyflowermakertaco

@bitchyslut99

@patzammit

@itskikiyooo

@maximeevansblog

Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.

Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.

"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.

In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.

"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.

"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."

"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.

"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.

"I'm not Jenny."

"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.

"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.

"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."

"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.

"No I'm not her assistant either."

"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.

"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"

"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."

"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.

"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.

"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.

"It's clear that you're drunk."

He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"

"I do now." You say tersely.

"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."

Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.

"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.

"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.

"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"

Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.

"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.

"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.

"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.

"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.

"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."

"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”

You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.

"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”

Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"

"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.

"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.

"Far from it."

"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.

"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.

"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.

"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."

"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.

"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.

"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.

"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.

"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.

"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.

"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."

"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"

"Pretty much."

"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"

"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."

"And what made you come to that realization?"

"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."

Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.

"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."

"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."

"Wow."

"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."

"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.

"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."

"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.

"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.

"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."

"Sure, on me and that'd be great."

"Thanks."

"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.

"Nice."

"You have a goodnight now Chris."

"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.

He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.

[crimsonwolfie]

A Love Like In The Movies - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Prompt: You (the reader) have had a crush on Stiles, your best friend, since forever. Only...he likes the popular girl, Lydia...or so you thought.

Warnings: tinges of sadness, loneliness and a hint of heartbreak...but a ton of fluff :)

Word count: 3,071

masterlist

You tug at your bag, shoving about 3 books in at once in an attempt to be out of class as soon as the bell rings. Walking with your head down and hands clasping your bag up, you harshly bump into the new kid Henry, knocking him to the floor along with all his books and your papers....clearly you never remembered why your nickname was ‘Wobbly Whittmore’.

“Oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” You utter with one hand on your mouth and the other helping him up off the floor. He stares up at you with a dazed look and a small smirk, watching you help scramble up his papers and books.

“It’s chill, don’t worry”

You look up at him with a shy smile, clearly embarrassed for your clumsiness. “It’s not, honestly i’m so sorry. You haven’t even been here for a week and already you’ve been practically beaten up..” you shake your head “that usually happens at least 3 months in” you wink at him, laughing lightly. Henry laughs back whilst collecting more papers from the floor.

As you both sigh, your hands collide briefly. It was just for a moment...but it made you feel something. At first it was shock, but then something you’ve wanted to feel for so long...just with someone else...Stiles. Henry’s eyes dart up at you, his cheeks heating up slightly.

“I...sorry i should get going” he quickly adverts his gaze and gets up, picking up what’s in his hands “how many people can say they’ve encountered the nice Whittmore in their first week, huh?”

“Oh god you know about my brother already?” you huff, handing him his books “Some friendly advice since you’re obviously a decent guy...stay far away from him.” You laugh, once again feeling embarrassed for being related to...well...Jackson.

“Yeah he has a...well...a reputation so to speak. Thanks again, see you around, Y/N”

“Later Henry!”

Walking through the halls you can’t help but think of Stiles. He’s adorable, cute, beautiful, funny, smart, geeky but in the best way, kind, gentle...the list quite literally goes on forever. But in all the time you’ve known him...he’s always liked Lydia. The girl who your brother used to date. Since they broke up, Stiles has never been so smitten. Sure, she’s gorgeous and actually really nice...but she’s who he likes...she’s not you. I mean, you never know...he could like you. You’ve never actually mentioned it to him. But then if you do, and he turns you down, you’d be crushed... completely!

“Hey Y/N!” Stiles appears from around the corner of the lockers, making you jump a little.

“Jesus Stiles, don’t do that!” You hiss as you hold your hand over your heart. He throws his head back giggling. ‘God how cute he looks when he’s happy’ the little voice in your head says.

“You up for a movie marathon after school? I got your favourites...” he moves closer

“Harry Potter?!” You squeal, clapping your hands together 

“Only the best for the best” he smiles with all teeth showing. You silently fist pump the air as he holds his hand out for you to high five him, which you do. Your hands hover in the air, skin hot to the touch, until he breaks apart and places his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll go and find Scott and ask if he’s in. Knowing him, he’ll want to bring Allison and with Allison comes...”

“Lydia” you sigh

“Yes! She’s just so brilliant, isn’t she?” Stiles hummed, his face cheeky and merry like a child eating ice cream. You tried to hide the hurt with a faint smile, because seeing Stiles so happy just warmed your heart. You didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.

“What’s up Y/N/N?” Stiles’ smile faded into a frown, concern painted across his perfectly honeyed eyes. Seeing this, you can practically feel your heart drop.

You fiddle with the rings on your fingers as your soft Y/H/C hair slips in front of your face. “What? No...nothing. Rough day that’s all-”

“HEY Y/N” You look up to see Henry running towards you with one arm stretched out towards you, the other holding his bag strap. “You left this, when we spoke earlier” he hands you a pile of papers, all with your name on.

“Oh, my god...I’d be totally screwed if I didn’t have this for tomorrow’s math class. I’m so sorry. They must have got mixed up with your papers” you take the papers out of his hand and shove them into your bag, smiling shyly at both boys staring at you. “Thanks Henry, you saved my math grade” you laugh, causing Henry to blush and bite his lip ever so subtly, placing his hand on your arm and squeezing it playfully.

“No worries, Y/N. I’ll see you around” he winks at you, earning a frown from Stiles. 

“Who’s that geezer?” He remarks, his face furrowed with a mix of both dislike and anger. Little did you know, Stiles didn't like seeing other guys flirt with you. He began to feel this deep pit in his stomach, his blood beginning to boil. 

You turn to face Stiles, pushing your hair back behind your ear. Sheepishly you pat him on the shoulder “i’ll see you at 3? Parking lot?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies hesitantly, fidgeting with the rim of his flannel. You notice something’s got him wound up but decide it’s probably just him nervous to spend time with Lydia and continue to walk down the hall, making your way to health class.

━━━━━━━━

All throughout the rest of your classes for the day, you just felt empty. Nothing but heartbreak, emptiness, loneliness. Thoughts of him and Lydia snuggling up in blankets whilst eating popcorn and watching the movie kept bubbling around your brain. You tried to snap out of it, but nothing would work. You thought about just cancelling on the meet after school, knowing it would be way less painful. ‘They probably wouldn’t even notice I'm gone’ you thought. Your mind was like a prison that you couldn't escape...

“this must have been what Sirius Black felt like for 12 years” you mutter under your breath, not caring who heard. Sounds of faint chattering, pencils scribbling and the monotone voice of Mrs Rawlings can be heard around you, but none of it distracts your train of thoughts. Just begging for some sort of peace, you crash your head into your arms on the table.

“Hey, Y/N” you felt a gentle nudge on your forearm and look up to see Scott staring down at you, his hand on your arm. “What’s up with you dude? And who’s Sirius Black?”

You sigh with an overly dramatic eye roll, unwillingly plucking up enough strength to say once again that you’re ‘fine just a bit tired that’s all’...

“Tired.” is all you can spit out before shoving your head back into your arms. Little did you know, Scott could sense what you were feeling...I mean you didn't lie - he sensed tiredness...just mentally. Along with hurt, pain and loneliness.

“You sure? Well maybe after school you’ll feel better. Say, d’you reckon Allison likes...I don’t know...flowers? I... I was going to get her a bunch before I pick her up to go to Stiles’” You felt your tears drop into your sleeves, soaking both your jumper and your face as Scott continued. “Do girls like flowers? I’d ask Lydia but I'm closer with yo...”

“Yeah flowers whatever.” you mutter without lifting your head up. Scott scrunched his face, his brows furrowing. Usually, you were so much more supportive and excited for him - heck you were even more excited than him when you found out about him and Allison! You guys always told each other everything. ‘Something is definitely going on’ he thought to himself. He decided it was best to not say much more right now since he was already on a report in Mrs Rawlings’ class.

Just as Scott was about to hand you a note in class, the final bell rang. Instantly you popped up and grabbed your books, practically sprinting out of the door. Scott tried to stop you, but was called behind class by the teacher. You knew he was going to follow you, that's why you ran. No matter what, he couldn't see you like this, otherwise he wouldn’t drop it and would demand to know who hurt you - how could you tell him it was his own best friend?! As you’re jogging, you bump into the one person you wanted to avoid...

“Woah, slow down there cowgirl” Stiles holds your shoulders with his hands, his grip firm and comforting. He takes one look at you and notices your wet, blotchy eyes. You hang your head low in an attempt to hide your face from him...clearly it doesn't work.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s up? Who hurt you?! his smile fades drastically upon seeing the state you were in. Obviously you weren't going to tell him, so you just decide to make up something...

“I failed my health class for the semester”

“Y/N it’s not the end of the world, you can always retake!” he sighs

You turn over to him with your hands in the air, shaking your head. “No you don’t un...you know what, Stiles? I can’t come over later. I’m sorry.” 

He steps back in surprise, both hands leaving your shoulders and grabbing his bag straps around his arms. Suddenly, you feel angry at him...though you instantly regret snapping at him. “i...I’m sorry” is all you can stutter as you run out the door, leaving Stiles standing there wondering what he did wrong, for what felt like hours, until Scott saw him.

“dude what're you doing? We got a marathon to start” he smacks Stiles on the back full pelt, leaving Stiles to stumble a bit.

“Have you spoken to Y/N today?” he asks, his voice trembly, quiet.

“Of course I have. Why, haven’t you?” The alpha replies

“No I have, it’s just...she was upset and i tried to help but she just...” he trails off   as Scott steps closer, Stiles’ eyes dull.

“She just what?” he asks, his voice calm and gentle

“She said she failed health class...”

“Wait, no that's not true - I got pulled behind class today because Mrs Rowlings wants me to have a tutor for health class and suggested Y/N since she’s acing everything!?” Scott explained. Stiles jerked his head, brows furrowing once again.

“Wait what?” his hand flew to his forehead as he leaned against the lockers beside him. “She snapped at me. I think I did something, Scotty...but I don’t know what. She’s been distant for a while now ever since Jackson and Lydia broke up, and I mean I know that her brother hates us but I just didn't think Y/N would choose her brother over us or me and i...”

“Stiles, stop.” Scott grabs both of Stiles’ shoulders and makes direct eye contact with him. “Listen, okay? I think I know what’s up”

“You do?” Stiles’ eyes brightened insantly. He knew something was wrong with his best friend and he knew he would do anything to fix that.

“She likes you, dude. Really likes you. And I thought you would have figured that out by now...she’s always doodling your name in class and covers it whenever someone passes by. Plus, she talks about you all the time.” Scott understood why you had been distant, and he didn’t blame you.

Stiles’s cheeks flushed a bright shade of red as a smile began appearing. His heart started pounding quicker than Quicksilver in the X-Men films, butterflies swarming around his stomach and ribcage. “Seriously? Then why is she distancing herself from me?”

“Because she still thinks you’re in love with Lydia...her heartbeat quickens when she’s with you, or when you guys touch in some way” Scott’s tone becomes more serious, which is unusual for Scott. Typically, he’s always goofy around Stiles so clearly he meant what he was about to say next... “But when you’re with Lydia, her mood changes. I can sense it...It’s sort of sad, lonely...” his face melts just thinking of all the times he’s felt that same pain. “You gotta tell her how you feel, Stiles. Tonight.”

“But I can’t...she’s not coming!” Stiles replies with a croaky voice.

“Then you go to her!” Scott replies, his eyes wide with hope and his hands pressing on Stiles’ back, pushing him towards the door “go now, dude!” Stiles picks up his pace and jogs to the door, one hand gripping his bag strap and the other fiddling with his keys in his pocket. “And let me know how it goes” Scott shouts as Stiles leaves the building.

━━━━━━━━

As you reach your front door, you feel a tear trickle down your cheek. All you could think of was Stiles. How he would, at this moment, be snuggling and giggling with Lydia. You have nothing against her, in fact you are actually really fond of her, but it breaks your heart to know you aren't the one who can make the boy you love, fall for you. A pain runs through your chest as you slam the door shut, your breathing wheezing. Leaning against the door, you slide down...completely breaking down.

“Why doesn’t he look at me that way?” you mutter to yourself, head in arms as your cheeks soak into your sleeves. “All I've ever done is try and make him happy, try and make him realise how incredible he is...and he still doesn't see me the same way”

Nose sniffling, eyes red, head fuzzy, hands shaking and top wet...you get up. ‘You did the best thing. It was the right decision to stay home’ you think, knowing it would have just ruined your friendship if you told him how you felt. And anyway, you wanted him to be happy. And clearly, that wasn't with you...

You ran upstairs and changed into a comfy pair of joggers and an oversized top, chucking your slippers on and grabbing a blanket before heading back downstairs. If you couldn't join their movie night - you’d have your own! 

Snacks and a drink were sitting on the table beside you on the sofa, with the television on ready and curtains closed. Just as you had got yourself in a comfy position, the doorbell rang. You grunted, kicking the blanket off your legs and dragging yourself towards the front door. Opening it, you felt your breath escape you. It was Stiles, standing at the door, with a bouquet of beautiful flowers in his hands. His hair was messy as if he’d run his fingers through it a thousand times, his cheeks were flushed brighter and pinker than bubblegum, looking as if he was out of breath from rushing somewhere. You go to say something, but before you had the chance, Stiles speaks, “Hi! I uh....I didn’t know whether you were mad at me or whether you were just having a rough day but it seemed like you were mad at me so I wanted to see if you were okay and uh...I got you these” His arms stretched to give you the flowers, his face ridden with nerves. You looked down at the flowers and then back up to Stiles’ face.

“Why would you think i was mad at you?” You questioned, brows furrowing at the confusion of what was happening. “These are gorgeous, thanks Stiles” you coo with a smile on your face, taking the flowers from Stiles’ hands. As you grab them, your hands touch Stiles’, causing your cheeks to flush and your heart to flutter. Stiles’ own cheeks flushed at the touch of your hands, too.

“You seem distant with me lately. And Scott told me why...” he begins, fingers fidgeting with the rim of his checkered shirt “I like Lydia...” he trails off.

Upon hearing these words, you feel your heart drop. Mouth dry and sadness creeping into your mind, you feel clouded with emotions and thoughts. Why would Stiles come over, give you flowers and then declare his love for Lydia? “Yeah I kno...” you begin until he cuts you off,

“She’s my friend. And she’s amazing...but she doesn’t wait for me after classes. She doesn’t call me to check in once in a while. She doesn’t do anything in her power to make sure I'm happy or know I'm loved...” his beautiful brown eyes stared lovingly into yours, your heart lifting and beating faster with each sentence he says...

“She doesn’t know me, and I mean the real me...the one who suffers with anxiety, who needs a nightlight and needs constant reassurance on even the simplest things” you smirk at the mention of a nightlight because, well, you were the one who actually got it for him...because you knew he wasn't doing too good. “She is my friend, Y/N, but she isn’t my best friend. And I like her, but I don’t love her...because I love you. It’s always been you”

There’s a soft wind that blows between you both, causing you to shiver and shake with both excitement and chills. Stiles’ eyes glittered in the sunlight like an ocean surface in summer, tears welling in them. You bit your lip which trembled with an overcoming emotion of happiness as you leant forward and grabbed him, cupping his face in your soft hands and bringing your lips to his in a desperate yet passionate way. Feelings of euphoria and desire filled both of your hearts like a fire burning bright, lips moving sweetly in sync as in destined for one another. His hands wrap around your waist as you bring your hands through his hair. Nothing felt more perfect than this moment...all your worries gone and your heart fuller than ever before because the boy who holds your heart, who has held your heart for years, is finally in your arms. Stiles’ warmth radiates onto your cheeks as you smile into the kiss, earning a smile from Stiles, too. Breaking away to breathe, you both look down and giggle, hands intertwining with Stiles rubbing circles on your palm with his thumb.

You look up at him, smiling, as you speak “I...I love you too”. Stiles coos as he pulls you closer to him to break the gap now between you both, “I gathered” he laughs, kissing the top of your forehead affectionately. “So, how about that marathon?”

Hope you guys like it! x

[thestarrynightslover]

It’s Hard Sometimes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,975

Warnings: Yelling, arguing (gets a little physical, really just a little bit!), high risk-pregnancy, slight mentions of fertility issues, mentions of anxiety and overthinking, and a lot of angst.

Summary: Jay and the reader are married, but start having a hard time after they found out that (y/n) is pregnant. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I made this piece of almost pure angst mostly because I feel like Jay is such a well-built character, who gives us a lot of space to talk about mental health and anxiety (even though I don’t think I developed it very well, lol), so I wanted to use this space to try and add to the conversation with him. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Your Saturday morning just couldn’t get any worse. 

Or, at least, that’s what you thought after having been mugged at the subway and then asked to go pick up your stuff at the 21st District, where your husband works. You had to go in because they had apprehended your bag as stolen property. But you were hoping that,  maybe, you’d be able to sort it all out without Jay seeing you. 

“(y/n), hi! Here to see Chuckles? Cause they’re all out working on a case now.” Trudy said with a small smile on her lips, while you just prayed she wouldn’t notice how relieved you were to hear that.

“No, uh, I’m actually here because there was an incident at the subway and the responding officers told me I had to come in to get my bag back. Also, sign something, I think…” You answered shrugging your shoulders to make it seem like nothing. But, of course, Trudy knew better, she always does.

“Oh my God! I heard about that, just didn’t know you were one of the victims! Are you okay? García, go get (y/n) a glass of water!!!” She quickly shouted at the young officer, not waiting long to turn back to face you with a concerned glare: “Can I get you anything else?”

“Oh, no, Trudy! You don’t need to worry about me! It wasn’t a big deal!” You said, also noticing that she was already going through some evidence bags, looking for the one that contained your things. “But there is one thing that I’d appreciate from you…” Hearing that, she didn’t even let you finish:

“Yes, of course! Anything, just name it!” At that, you shot her your brightest smile. Maybe Jay was right and the tough Sergeant Trudy Platt did have a soft spot for you. 

“Well, it’s just that… You know how Jay can get, so maybe you could not mention any of this to him? I just don’t want him worrying, the way I know he will, over something like this…” You would’ve continued but Trudy had the weirdest look on her face and, then, you got it. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” She didn’t bother to answer as your husband turned you to face him and the other members of the Intelligence Unit.

“So, what is it you don’t want me to worry about, huh?” He had a playful smirk on his lips, but his eyes showed you he was already worried. And now you had no other option but to tell him what happened.

“Well, um, there was a little confusion at the subway today and the officers said I had to come in…” You would gladly stop at that, but you knew that Jay wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him everything, so you just went on: “To retrieve what I, um, lost.” God, you couldn’t even look in his eyes right now. 

“What you lost? What kind of confusion are you talking about exactly, babe?” In spite of the pet name, his voice was already showing off a bit of irritation.

“It was a, um, robbery,” at that his eyes almost jumped out of their orbits, so you quickly added, “but it wasn’t a big deal! Nobody got hurt! The officers tackled the guy pretty fast, as soon as he stepped out on the station! And everything is here,” you said raising the bag  Trudy handed you a few minutes earlier, “so, really, there’s nothing to worry about!” You told him, not being able to conceal the exasperation in your voice.

“Nothing to worry about? You just got mugged, (y/n)! We heard a call about that over the radio, it was an armed robbery! Or did you happen to miss the gun on your face when he was getting your bag, huh?” He asked and, even though you knew that the only reason why he was lashing out like that was the concern, the way he said what he said made you feel really small and brought tears to your eyes. “Actually, what I’d like to know, to begin with, is why were you even riding the subway alone, after our talk from the other day, huh?” You could feel the eyes from every person in that District on you and, as much as you knew where Jay was coming from, it was starting to really bother you.

“I was just going to the library. Sorry I didn’t think I needed an escort to do that!” You wish you wouldn’t have said it with those exact words, but you were reaching your limit.

“But we talked about it!” He snapped and you jumped back a little. Then he added, more calmly: “You should have called me.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he always did when he was disappointed and upset about something, and you just felt yourself getting smaller and smaller, as the tears started falling. As if all of it hadn’t been enough, he asked: “Are you okay, though? Because, you know, given our circumstances, you’re to avoid going out on your own to prevent this kinda stress from hitting you, babe.” He explained that to you like he was talking to a child. Like he was the only one who heard what the doctor said. And that was it for you. As much as you loved the man, you just didn't have infinite patience towards his overprotective dad-to-be mode. 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you just go ahead and say ‘I told you so’, huh? Because I can tell you’re dying to do it!” God damn those pregnancy hormones because you were fuming with anger and the tears just kept going down at full force.

“Babe, that’s not what I-”

“The hell it isn’t!” Part of you really wanted to let it all out. All the hurtful words that were just waiting for a go-ahead at the tip of your tongue. But the other part of you, the rational one, knew that wasn’t gonna do any good for you or Jay. Or your baby. So you decided you’d leave instead. “You know what? It’s probably best if I go home now!”

“Okay, then, I’ll drive you.” You heard Jay saying, with a deep sigh, but you couldn’t even begin to think about an entire drive home with him at that moment.

“No way! I can do that by myself! And don’t worry I’ll get a cab this time!” As you headed towards the exit, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. You turned around and it was Jay. He’d never done that before. “Jay, you’re hurting me!” You breathed out, trying not to be too nervous. When your eyes met his, he let your arm go quickly, looking absolutely stunned by his own behavior. 

You knew that the healthiest thing to do right then would be to try and talk to him about it, but you couldn’t. At that point you needed the space more than ever, so you took the opportunity to just leave the District and go home.

After you stormed out crying, every cop in that building laid their eyes on Jay. To say they were completely shocked by the previous scene was an understatement. Almost everyone there knew you and Jay and how you two were great together. But, more importantly, they knew Jay Halstead wasn’t that kinda guy ⎯ or at least they thought so ⎯ and now they were all wondering.

Still, Trudy Platt, who wasn’t about to have any more of that drama at her District, ordered loudly for everyone to get back to their tasks, while shooting Jay a worried look, because, as much as she knew for a fact that he wasn’t that kinda guy, she cared a lot about you and had, obviously, witnessed the whole thing. 

After the little gathering of cops had been dissolved, it was Voight’s turn to speak up: “Alright, Intelligence, let’s get back upstairs, we still have a lot of work to do on this case. And, Jay, you should go home now.” He said with a stern look, despite his concern for the detective.

“But, sarge, I-” Jay started to protest, like Hank knew he would.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Halstead. I know your head is not gonna be on the case until you fix whatever that was, so, now, the best thing you can do is just calm down and go home.” This time Jay knew there was no point in arguing, so he accepted the defeat and went upstairs to get changed in the locker room before leaving. 

As he got there, he saw his reflection in the mirror and that was when it hit him. All of it. From your incident to your tears, to his aggressiveness. He really messed up. He let his fears get the best of him and he hurt you, he made you cry, fear him, even. So he started crying himself, like a little child whose favorite toy had just broken, like there was no tomorrow. By the time Voight went there to check up on Jay, maybe give him some advice, that’s what he saw: a grown man sitting on the floor crying his eyes out. So he did the one thing he could think about doing, to try and make that man he considered like a son feel better: he sat there by Jay’s side and put a hand over the detective’s shoulder until the crying sufficed. 

“So, you and (y/n) been on the odds lately?” Hank asked after a while.

“No, uh, not really.” Jay started whilst sniffling. “It’s just that this week we got some news that messed with our emotions a little, but, Hank, I swear I have no idea why I did that! I would never do anything to hurt her, you gotta believe me! Please?” He pleaded, in desperation, for someone who knew it, who knew him.

“Jay, Jay!” By then the sergeant had to shout to get the frantic young man’s attention back. “Jay, I know you wouldn’t hurt her, you hear me? I know. I know you love her more than you love yourself, hell, everyone here knows it! They were just… A little surprised to see you two arguing, that’s all.” Hank tried to make it sound a lot less bad than it actually was, and Jay appreciated that. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on between you and (y/n), huh? Maybe I can help you somehow… Or maybe you just need to vent.” Hearing that, Jay decided that he should take Voight’s suggestion and just talk about it already.

“Well, here’s the thing, sarge, (y/n/n) and I, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. And, um, we were having a bit of a hard time with it. But then last weekend we found out that it worked, she got pregnant, and we were so happy about it!” He almost smiled at the memory. “But then we went to the doctor to check it and all that, and found out that it’s a high-risk pregnancy, meaning she’s gotta take it real easy from now on, otherwise the baby’s life and her own would be in danger! And I’m terrified ever since we left that hospital! Because the simplest thing could take her away from me! My everything, sarge, she is my entire world and I can’t live without her.” He said shaking his head in a way that made even Hank Voight feel a bit of sadness. “So when she said she’d been robbed at gunpoint… I just lost it, you know? What if I’d lost them?”

“Ah, Jay…” Hank knew exactly what the detective was scared of, after all, he had already lost a wife and a son. “Look, I know this can be hard, trust me. Camille and I had our issues before Justin came, as well… But you said it yourself, you’re both happy, aren’t you?” Jay didn’t even need to think before answering that question.

“Yes, of course, sarge! But-”

“No buts! Look, Jay, I know what a big heart you have and I know how much you care, how- how intensely you care, I know, okay? But sometimes, with things like this, you just gotta keep going and hope- just hope that everything is gonna work out. So here’s what you’re gonna do: go home, make up with your wife and start planning a nursery, or whatever else you, parents-to-be, have on your to-do lists these days.” At that, Jay chuckled a little, feeling grateful to have this second father to set him on straight.

“I know you’re right, and I really appreciate you saying this to me… I’m pretty sure that (y/n/n) said something among those lines after we got back from the doctor’s appointment too. The problem is that sometimes it seems like I can’t control my own thoughts. Then, next thing I know, I’m freaking out…” Hank thought that he sounded so frustrated saying that… He really felt for the kid.

“Listen, Jay, you- you just try, okay? You just try your best. And talk to (y/n/n) about it, just let her know what’s going on in there.” He pointed to Jay’s head, as they had already stood up.

“Alright, I will try. Thank you, sarge. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” They half-hugged and the detective went home to you.

The thing he wasn’t prepared for, at all, was finding you: the woman he loved more than anything and anyone in the entire world, sitting on the floor, leaning your back against the bed in the bedroom you two shared, crying and shaking. You were scared of him. That broke him in a way he never thought possible. He wanted to hurt himself, as punishment for hurting you, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you. So he gathered some courage to speak through his shame instead. “B- babe?”

You shivered, but you didn’t wanna be afraid of him. That was Jay. Your Jay. The man you loved. The man who loved you. You knew he would never hurt you or your baby. But your body didn’t seem to be listening to your brain. Still, you wanted to say something. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t know what to say, so you just stayed silent, trying to stop the sobs. He decided to make a move: He sat down on the floor like you, but still giving you some space. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost whispering, “I’m so, so, so sorry. You don’t need to say anything, or to forgive me, or do anything, really. I came here willing to talk to you. To do anything to get you back. But now I see just how much I hurt you, so I’ll give you all the space and time you want.” You still couldn’t seem to find your words. It was that same man, you knew it. Why couldn’t you just tell him that? “I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom, or even go to Will’s if it makes you more comfortable?” Just by the sound of his voice, you could tell he meant it. And that was your Jay.

“No,” you spoke so lowly, that you weren’t even sure he’d heard it, “I want you to stay.” And you really did. But you needed to understand, in order to be able to forgive him. “Just- just tell me what happened there? Why?” You tried, a little louder this time.

“Long story short? I was scared to death.” He said with a long and heavy sigh, looking so much older than he’d ever done before; at the same time, you could see the bags under his eyes, from all those sleepless nights he’d been having lately.

“Scared? Because of the robbery? Baby, you’re a cop! You’ve heard of that kind of thing a million times before, and you know it’s not that big of a deal!" You tried to reason with him, even though you were afraid too, at the time.

“I know!” He said, in a tone that made you flinch a little and, then, more calmly: “Look, I know. And I know that you’ve been through tougher stuff. And that you can handle yourself. But that whole thing could’ve gone badly for you, for the baby, for us, in a thousand different ways. Besides, it’s not just that. Ever since we left that exam room, on Monday, I’ve been scared, worried. Because, according to the doctor, the tiniest problem could get you on edge. Because of the tiniest problem, I could lose you. I could lose everything, babe!” You could only stare at him in shock, after hearing that. Of course, you understood his concerns, but you had been so absorbed in your own fears, that you never thought about how much the whole situation was affecting him. Your formerly brave soldier, now tough detective, was also a very anxious man ⎯ who always overthought every single detail of everything when it came to you ⎯ and was, now, crying his eyes out, sobbing like a little kid by your side. So you did the one thing you thought could make him feel better: you pulled him closer to you, letting him break, into your chest, as he listened to your soothing heartbeat.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. Shhh, I’m right here and I’m safe. We both are. You don’t need to be afraid, because we’re not going anywhere, baby.” You promised him with tears already pricking through your eyes, as well. 

And, like that, you two stayed, crying in each other’s arms, just holding each other. With a renewed hope that everything was gonna be okay.

[creatingnikki]

What 2020 has taught me

1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.

2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.

3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.

4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.

5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.

6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out. 

7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?

8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices. 

9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make. 

10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it! 

11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up. 

12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday. 

13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.

14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same. 

15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people. 

16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful. 

17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away. 

18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you. 

19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs. 

20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight. 

[stargaze-sunflower]

Hello! Could you do some Dewey and Louie bonding? Or maybe Dewey protecting his brothers? Your writing is amazing btw.

This ask is from way back when I was taking prompts sajdskj I'm sorry its so late but I dug up something that I wrote for the green beans discord and it sort of fit this so I cleaned it up a bit :]

The context is that Dewey and Louie have been stuck in a magical forest that shows them their worst memories, but it kinda starts near the end of that story so asjdkkjsa anyway I hope you enjoy!! <33

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Dewey’s worst nightmare used to be Huey being freakishly tall, but now that he’d been introduced to freakishly tall trees in a disturbingly magical forest, he might be reevaluating that decision.

“We’ll get out of here,” Dewey said, softer than he might’ve, had it not felt like something was watching them. “We always get out.”

“Yeah, sure, we always escape magical forests that trap us and show us our worst memories,” Louie grumbled, sarcastic and defensive; tired and lost.

“You know what I mean,” Dewey said, standing up from where he’d been kneeling in a patch of bright green and glowing moss. He held out a hand for Louie to take. “We’re two-thirds of the Duck Boys, we’ll be fine.”

“It only takes once, you know,” Louie said, taking his hand and rising on slightly shaky legs. “And then always turns into sometimes, and my mental health will somehow get worse.”

“We’ll be fine,” Dewey reiterated, his chest squeezing a bit at Louie’s words, at the fact that he was so scared of sometimes. “I mean, we could probably use some help, sure. Or ideas. Or a miracle.”

“I’m afraid I’m out of stock,” Louie said drily.

Dewey laughed a bit, glad that most of the horrible tension from earlier had dissipated into something more manageable. Running from reruns of their worst memories until Louie collapsed into a panic attack had not been the fun adventure he’d been hoping for.

Still holding Louie’s hand, Dewey turned to take in their surroundings for what had to be the thirtieth time. There were trees as far as he could see, and they were taller than he could even fathom, so much so that he couldn’t see the sky, couldn’t tell if it was night or day. Patches of glowing green moss were spread haphazardly across the forest floor and growing near the bases of the trees. And speaking of trees…

“Do you think we should try climbing?” Dewey asked, his head tilted backwards at an uncomfortable angle as he searched for one worth a try. All the branches were at least twenty feet in the air.

“Nope, no. Absolutely not,” Louie said, tugging on his hand as if to shake the thought of it from his head. “I’d rather you didn’t fall and die, thanks.”

“Maybe one of those giant deer we saw earlier would catch me.”

“I don’t really want to see that either.”

“What? But it’d be so cool!”

“Do it on your own time, then,” Louie said, but a small smile was pulling at the corner of his beak, and Dewey grinned.

“That sounds like a challenge,” he said, teasing.

“That was the opposite of a challenge,” Louie said. “That was a thinly veiled plea to never leap into the arms of a giant deer.”

Dewey pouted playfully. “You’re no fun.”

“No, I just happen to have common sense and a healthy fear of injury.”

Something in the air shifted.

(“Fear, you say?”)

Dewey jumped about a mile in the air, startled, as Louie yelped in poorly concealed surprise. The voice seemed to come from all around them, layered and echoing and amused. Slowly, they turned around, and with wide eyes they took in the figure in front of them.

It was a child, glowing with the same light that had formed imitations of their family members just a few minutes ago. The child looked like a ghost, or a hologram, and despite its youthful appearance, Dewey got the feeling that it was older than anything he’d ever met before; ancient and magic and terrifying, like the trees surrounding them and the creatures they’d encountered throughout their adventure.

But it looked like a child.

The figure smiled, and Dewey blinked, feeling Louie’s grip on his hand tighten as they stared at the entity in front of them.

“Who are you?” Dewey blurted, forgoing a polite hello in favor of getting straight into whatever this was.

(“I am the forest,”) the child said, as if that were a perfectly normal and reasonable response. For their family, it might as well be. (“Why are you here?”)

“Trust me, I’d rather not be,” Louie spoke up, stepping out from where Dewey had subconsciously stepped in front of him. He gave the forest spirit a long, resigned look. “So if you could point us towards the exit, that would be great.”

(“There is no exit,”) the forest said, that amused undertone to its voice again, and then it smiled. (“But there is an escape.”)

“Okay, uh, can you point us to the escape, then?” Dewey asked, already frustrated by the word games the thing was playing.

The forest hummed as if deliberating, and the leaves around them rustled in an echo of it, low and haunting. Dewey felt Louie shiver.

(“It is something you have to find for yourself,”) said the forest spirit, floating forward a bit. (“All I can be is a guide. It is up to you, whether you leave or not.”)

There was a moment of silence, in which Dewey got the impression that the trees were breathing, or something equally as ridiculous.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Louie asked, growing bolder in his irritation. “We want to leave. Let us out.”

(“Freedom is not free, child,”) the forest said, for a moment sounding exactly as ancient as it really was. Sounding sad, almost. (“You have to give me something in return.”)

Dewey glanced back at Louie with a question in his eyes, and Louie just shrugged. Bargaining with the forest. Sure. Now he’d seen everything.

“What do you want?” Dewey asked.

(“An answer,”) said the forest, tilting its head to the side as it examined them. (“An answer to a question.”)

“Great,” Louie said flatly, exhaustion and resignation seeping into his voice. “Ask away.”

What Dewey had expected was some sort of riddle, or trick, or maybe an impossible task. What he got was something completely different.

(“What are you afraid of?”) the forest asked, and Dewey’s breath caught. The child frowned. (“No one ever tells me the truth.”)

“This has happened before?” Dewey asked, and the spirit shrugged.

(“I’ve lived for centuries,”) the forest said, looking around at the trees that were growing tall and proud around them. (“There are always those who wander.”)

“And do you let them leave?” Louie’s voice was careful in the way that meant he was scared. Dewey lightly squeezed his hand.

(“It depends on what they tell me.”)

Dewey swallowed, feeling the pressure begin to press in on him from all sides. He was the older brother here; he had to make sure they made it out.

“Okay,” Dewey said, after a few long seconds of eerie quiet. “I’m sacred of heights, and thunder, and— and rivers.”

He heard Louie’s rushed breath of surprise at his declaration, because there were definitely some things in there that his brother hadn’t known.

(“That is the truth,”) the forest acknowledged, (“but it is not enough.”)

“Why not?” Dewey asked, halfway to being offended.

(“What are you afraid of?”) the forest spirit repeated the question gently. (“More than anything.”)

“More than anything?” Dewey parroted, and the forest nodded. He’d never met a forest who could nod before.

Sighing, Dewey turned to look at Louie, who was staring back at him in resigned bewilderment. The glow from the moss cast him in an eerie sort of lighting, but he supposed it reflected the mood well enough. Eventually, Louie broke eye contact and sighed.

“Okay, sure, if we tell you our greatest fear, then you’ll let us leave?” Louie asked, apparently making sure that if he bared his soul, it would be for a good reason.

(“Yes,”) said the forest, simply. (“You will be free.”)

“Great, not ominous at all.”

“Do you even know what your greatest fear is?” Dewey asked, glancing at Louie over his shoulder. He wasn’t even completely sure if he knew his own.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Louie said absentmindedly, not meeting his eyes, and Dewey’s stomach twisted into anxious knots.

(“Will you tell me the truth?”) asked the forest spirit, and it almost sounded like it was excited. (“It has been a long time since I’ve heard honesty.”)

“It’s been a long time since I’ve practiced it,” said Louie, “but I’ll do my best.”

The forest nodded, something like a wry smile pulling at its lips. (“That is the truth.”)

“Thanks,” Louie said, and then in the same breath: “I’m afraid of being useless. Of having nothing to offer that makes me worth keeping around. I’m afraid of hurting people, of letting them down. I’m afraid that I’ll be left behind because I’m the only one who doesn’t always like where we’re going.”

Dewey stood rigid in the wake of Louie’s confession, his hand gone still and clammy in Louie’s tight, shaking grip. The weight of the words was not lost on Dewey, who suddenly had something new that he was afraid of. He never wanted Louie to feel like any of that was even possible.

“Louie?” Dewey’s voice wavered around his little brother’s name, but Louie ignored him in favor of staring challengingly at the forest spirit.

There was a long pause, in which everything was hauntingly still.

(“That is the truth,”) the forest said eventually, a bit of pride making its way into its voice. (“Thank you.”)

“Yeah,” Louie said, sounding equal parts fragile and relieved. “No problem.”

Big problem.

“Louie,” Dewey said, looking at him with confused, hurt eyes. “Why do you— You know we’d never do any of that stuff, right?”

Louie just shrugged, smiling a bit awkwardly.

“Somedays it seems more rational than others,” he said, and then, “It’s your turn.”

Reluctantly, Dewey turned back to the forest spirit, who was standing there serenely and watching them patiently. Right. His greatest fears.

“I don’t like to think about being scared,” Dewey opened up with, deciding to just wing it. “So I guess I’m afraid of being afraid. I’m afraid of missing out, being ignored. I’m afraid that no one will ever think I’m special or unique. It would really suck to be thought of as boring, you know?”

(“I do not know,”) said the forest spirit, kindness shining through its old eyes as it looked at him. (“But that is the truth. Thank you.”)

“Sure,” Dewey said, feeling slightly sick. “Anytime.”

“Though preferably never again,” Louie added, his voice thin and weak.

Dewey turned to look back at him, and found nothing but sadness and understanding in his gaze.

“You’re special, Dewey,” Louie told him, “and the fact that we’re standing here talking to a forest spirit is testament enough to the fact that you couldn’t be boring even if you tried.”

Despite himself, Dewey started chuckling, and Louie joined in with giggles soon after, all of the tension tumbling out of them in the form of laughter. The forest spirit smiled at them.

(“Laughter is rarer than honesty,”) the forest spirit mused. (“Or at least it is so where I come from.”)

“It depends on the person, I think, more than the place,” Louie said, and how did their lives reach this point? Making casual conversation with the embodiment of a magical forest. “Can we go now?”

(“Of course,”) said the forest, leaning back against a tree, seeming completely at ease. (“I told you the truth. You may go.”)

“Oka—"

“Why did you need to know our greatest fears?” Dewey asked suddenly, overcome with curiosity. “Are you holding them hostage now? Will we not be afraid anymore?”

(“I am a magical being,”) the forest spirit said, smiling up at the leaves above them, (“but even I cannot make you fearless.”)

“Then what was the point?”

(“To make you brave.”)

“Brave?” Louie asked, frowning a bit.

(“Honesty and Bravery are closely connected.”) The forest shrugged. (“To have any of either is to wear your heart on your sleeve.”)

“That’s another thing I’m afraid of,” Louie said softly, a bit wonderingly, and Dewey glanced at him sharply. “Being known.”

(“And yet you are,”) said the forest, glancing at Dewey and smiling softly. (“And you are loved all the same.”)

“I’d call that a miracle,” Louie said, a wry grin growing on his face even as Dewey squeezed his hand in a silent reprimand.

(“You may call it whatever you want.”) The forest around them began to change, the trees shrinking and shifting in the corners of Dewey’s vision. (“But I call it the truth.”)

The glow of the moss began to fade away, leaving behind a depressing normalcy. The trees had molded themselves into a mere shadow of their former glory, sunlight passing through the leaves that hung shortly above them. Before long, the only thing left of the magical forest was the figure in front of them, fainter and more translucent now that its home was back in… whatever realm it had come from; Dewey didn’t really know much about the logistics of magical forests and such.

“Bye,” Dewey said awkwardly, uselessly, and the forest spirit laughed brightly, eyes crinkling.

The laughter lingered even after the childlike figure had disappeared, until even that was carried away on the wind, leaving Dewey and Louie standing in a perfectly average sort of forest, staring at the spot where the last of their adventure had just vanished into thin air. Too much had happened in the past few hours. Too much to even begin to process.

“That was… something,” Louie said faintly, and Dewey snorted.

Understatement of the century.

Dewey opened his mouth to respond, but the harsh sound of the bushes to their right moving around pulled his attention away. Huey and Webby came tumbling through the underbrush moments later, looking wild and worried. Dewey and Louie turned to look at them with wide eyes, and Huey sighed in relief.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Huey said, rushing over to them to pull them into a hug. “Where have you been?”

“And why were you holding hands and staring at a tree?” Webby added, scanning them for injuries.

“It’s a long story,” Dewey managed, finally letting go of Louie’s hand as they shared a look.

“Yeah,” Louie agreed, looking back at their other siblings, “and we’re not telling it until we’re far, far away from anything resembling a forest.”

“The trees have eyes and ears,” Dewey said, nodding seriously, fighting a smile when Huey and Webby looked properly baffled now.

“And the forest talks like a poet from like, 80 centuries ago. I don’t—” Louie cut himself off with a yawn. “I don’t know. I’m tired.”

Hueys face softened into something concerned and caring.

“Okay,” said Huey. “Okay, let’s go home.”

The wind ruffled their hair gently as they were led back towards the Sunchaser, and somehow the rustling of the leaves sounded like a goodbye. Dewey looked towards the sky and smiled.