#or better yet stop posting about it. go to therapy. get a hobby

[a-side-character]

PSA

If you're going to be posting pro anorexia/ed stuff, PLEASE use the actual tag : pro-ana

Some of us are actually trying to heal from that nonsense, and trying to block all the new censorship y'all have come up with is exhausting.

This isn't TikTok, this isn't Instagram, you can say adult words here.

Also, if you're going to be encouraging people to starve and destroy themselves, at least have the strength of your convictions to say the words. All this censorship lets you distance yourself from it, pretend it's something it's not.

Call it what it is. Say the words.

[idolomantises]

I think I’m gonna discuss this once and hopefully never have to bring it up again. Originally I wanted to talk about it on Twitter but people are very disrespectful when it comes to mental health so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Basically, I haven’t been doing so great, mentally. Nothing bad has happened to me, I’m safe and surrounded by people I care about, and it’s been like that for months. I just, I haven’t been feeling good.

For people who do follow me on accounts like Twitter and Instagram, you may have noticed I haven’t posted anything new since January. I was struggling to feel motivated to make something for my main accounts despite having countless ideas I’d love to work on. I feel better now and do plan on getting something done in March, but that sudden lack of motivation is pretty rare for me. Art is not only my job but a big hobby for me, I just love drawing. I did get some nsfw art done at least.

I don’t know what really prompted my mental health decline, I’ve been getting a few worried messages and fanart because someone insulted my art. But that didn’t hurt me at all, it actually boosted my account and patreon.

I guess I just… got sad?

I have a really bad tendency to suppress and even ignore my trauma and feelings of guilt. And I guess one day I really sat with my thoughts and I just, lost it I guess. I have so much traumatic memories and sudden and intense feelings of self loathing, something I’ve never felt in almost a decade, that it got overwhelming. I couldn’t reassure myself, I couldn’t really talk to anyone about it because how do you confront things that happened years ago? You feel almost irrational. It’s just memories that haunt you, it’s nothing physical or tangible and yet it’s a crushing feeling of anxiety, self hatred and resentment.

I was crying almost every day, and crying so much that my eyes kept hurting long after I was done, and I could barely see my own screen. I’ve had paranoid thoughts about myself and others, thoughts I can’t get into because they’re so deeply irrational. I was feeling suicidal urges and thoughts of self harm. I don’t see myself doing it, but it’s so frequent and overwhelming it’s like I’m already planning my suicide note.

I was talking to my therapist about it, that I was starting to hate being alive. That I hated living. That I could spend the next 50 years of my life with no more conflict or trauma and I’d still be in intense misery and turmoil. They’re feelings I couldn’t really bring myself to tell friends about because what could they say? How do you calm yourself down and reassure yourself. I can’t even talk about my trauma verbally without crying. And it’s funny because sometimes minor irks started to affect me negatively. I was feeling anxious about what to draw because I didn’t want to do deal with homophobic backlash.

I went to a therapist, I talked to friends, Ive been working out more and eating better, I did everything I should do to improve my mental health and all of a sudden a single night just sitting in my room destroyed everything I was slowly building up over the past 5 years.

It’s been really difficult for me. I think also, I just felt so much guilt over not being the best person I could be. I decided to lessen my online usage, not just for my mental health but because I really wanted to work on being a better person. I want to stop hating myself and letting my trauma push me down and I want to do just be better and do better as a person. A lot of people have been very forgiving and kind to me but I don’t feel like it’s enough and I want to do more and I want to feel better about myself. I want to give everything I can to people around me. I’ve been going to therapy a lot more lately and things are getting better for me, but it’s been a very slow process.

I just want to repeat that nothing serious has happened to me. Nobody attacked me in a way that negatively affected my health. A lot of people, friends and strangers have been really nice to me these past few months. I just was doing a lot of self reflecting and unintentionally forced myself to confront a lot of my trauma. I’m saying trauma a lot. I don’t want to get into depth about what I endured because it’s my business but people who do know me know how bad things were for me. I don’t want to feel like that again. I want to feel better, and I want to do better.

Sorry for the long read. That’s just how I feel.

[trubbishrubbish]

Happy Last Day of 2023. Here's a long overdue update over how I have been.

As you recall, Jabberwock Genocide Part 2 was uploaded 3 weeks ago. And the only thing I did this whole month of December after Part 2 was uploaded was that I went to Canada to climb a huge mountain and confront my other self because it’s cheaper than going to therapy.

Just kidding, I just worked on more Jabberwock Genocide, nothing else.

This is a positive as I have made so much forward progress in the animation and the upcoming part 3 that you guys won’t have to wait 9 months for more Genocide Jack fun time. However, there is a cost to just working on Jabberwock Genocide, one that I’m currently struggling to find a way to deal with.

Basically, all my free time, focus and thinking has been dedicated to Jabberwock Genocide, but other stuff I do and create I have left to the dust.

My output in making Genocide Jack posts has just stopped.

I keep neglecting to share updates to my Sho Shrine. I am still getting new stuff for it but I have not yet organized it and taken picture of it.

I have barely played any new games. The last game I have beaten that is new was Super Mario Bros Wonder. I loved that game, but I had a hard time sitting down to play it for long sessions as I wanted to work on Jabberwock Genocide.

And tragically, I have really neglected interacting with my online friends. This I feel the most guilty of as I have no excuse for it. I know there are friends I used to talk to a lot before that I have now stopped engaging with for a really long time. If you are one of those people I just to say that I am sorry for ghosting you. I still consider you a friend I don't want our friendship to slowly die out due to lack of communication on my end.

This is my struggle. I love making Jabberwock Genocide. It’s honestly the most enriching thing I am currently doing in my life. I’m creating a story with my favorite character, Genocide Jack. I’m developing my skill as a sprite animator. I’m constantly thinking about how to create a particular scene with the limited resources I have. I get a real kick of joy when I am creating a scene and suddenly an idea comes to mind that I love and I put it in the animation.

I feel so satisfied when the ideas I have for a scene that I see in my head are transmitted into actual animation on my editor. More often then not, what I make in the final product is better than what I imagine in my head. Every single line, every single detail, every single joke, it all feels so amazing to craft them into a video.

It’s crazy to think that just a few months ago, I was at a low point in the animation where all of my motivation was drained and I struggled to make progress for weeks. But now, I feel so freaking happy and elated just thinking about the animation. Heck, even doing really tedious tasks like making every single sprite jump a little is still enjoyable to me. I’ve been working on this project since August 2022. I never expected this to be what is now when I first started writing down ideas. But I am happy the project did turn into this, because I really, truly enjoy working on this.

But… That’s the problem. I enjoy working on Jabberwock Genocide so much that any other hobbies, I find less fun. I rewrote my brain to dedicate huge parts of it to think about Jabberwock Genocide. I’m fully being this attached to a project like this isn’t healthy. I should be consuming different media and doing other activities and talking to my friends. I know this but I find it difficult to summon the energy to do it.

I’m still trying to find a good balance between working on the project and doing other leisure activities that I enjoy doing. I’m going to make this a goal for 2024, it might take me a while to find that balance but I will try to. Hopefully when I do, I can slowly rekindle friendships that I have abandoned.

That’s what I wanted to say. Thank you for taking the time to read this. See you in 2024.

[opinated-user]

Lily: "My black slave trader character is great representation and so is her chronic murderer fascist daughter!"

Me, looking up from a fanfic I'm reading where the President of the United States is black, aroace, a dad, a dork with a secret nerdery hobby, composed but ends up melting in the presence of cute animals, and is committed to reducing poverty and inequality in the United States: "Actually I'll take this, thanks. I'd rather have an Asian author who writes us like humans with problems, quirks, kindness and self-control than have the latest white rendition of Badass Black Boss Bitch."

Lily, louder: "The slaver being black isn't problematic, it's fine!"

And she wonders why black people aren't thrilled with her. Am I supposed to thank her for yet another depiction of black women as violent, aggressive, hateful and devoid of impulse control? Am I supposed to ignore the real-life legacy of slavery and pretend a black slaver isn't in poor taste? Why? So some white woman who doesn't even respect the culture of the Native tribe she pretends she's connected to can feel better about her racism?

I'm tired of black criminals. Framing the black criminals as fascist good guys doesn't make it better, it makes it worse. And making being a violent, angry Sith an inherent part of a black character? Fuck her. No, seriously, Lily? Go fuck yourself. Black people are not inherently violent or angry.

The angriest, easiest to enrage person in the room is Lily in every room she's in. She shouldn't project her flaws onto other races, she should get therapy.

I don't know how she got these ideas in her head about race but she's old enough to know better.

i said it on another post, but it actually does feel like LO can't separate black people from their oppression in her mind and since she has been accused of fetishizing black people, it comes off as if she's fetishizing black oppression too.

the whole issue with alaina's mom is already gross enough, but then you add the implications she put about how all storm trooper were intentionally chosen by skin tone (as Finn first identified Alaina's blackness as being similar to all other storm troopers he knew) and just... i can't comprehend why, in a fictional setting where characters regularly coexist with aliens of other planets, she still made a point to reinvent black slavery. even if you argue that she pretended to make the empire look worse, and by extension kylo ren, she still didn't need to do that. the empire is known to have commited genocide and use violence against insurrection... but i guess LO sees those two things as positive, so she has to shove racism there because her protagonist is black so of course she need to still live racism. as if blackness didn't have any value if it wasn't attached to racism. which is racist on itself.

honestly, at this point she should stop trying to fix what was already broken because it's clear she's only making things worse. from having her black mother into a slaver who trafficked a white child now she's making her into some sort of political martyr as martin luther king... despite no one apparently caring or even thinking about her death after it happened. she's just making it worse.

[fatesealer505]

Super uncool serious post 😞‼️‼️

I don’t know how much I can say before risking being fakeclaimed or something,,, uh this is gonna get personal but realistically speaking I expect nothing and nobody out of this so read as you will if you got nothing to do. I will most likely forget about this is an hour or so anyway.

So what have I done whole I was gone..

Nothing. Absolutely, literally, down-to-my-core nothing. I don’t mean it too literally, but my days have been recurring enough for me to no longer remember that much about my days and how they are spent. I do remember who I am on most days though.

Uh. I don’t know if it’s pure laziness or if I’m currently suffering a big burnout. I haven’t really played anything or talked to anyone and ironically enough I’ve lost sleep as well. Of course (if I said this before I apologize) I’m still keeping up with GGST and now I’m back on Skullgirls.. somewhat. As for Genshin I had to stop playing because of my storage and disinterest, unfortunately. However, I still love the characters I got with all of my heart and believe they clutched when they could.

My social battery’s just gotten so low and it’s like everything annoys me (not y’all though, I think the people I last saw on here are all wonderful), as if I have nothing and don’t like having anything either. I’ve put a lot of thought on this and how it’s ended for me - as I am simply a teenager in the countryside who “knows nothing” and also a big “know-it-all” but that aside, I’ve decided I won’t be trying to improve very much at all as that only puts a bigger risk of a worst relapse than what I am in now. I’ve made peace and accepted my situation for what it is, and I know who’s at fault, including myself.

I will not risk therapy either since my purchases are supervised and I can’t drive yet, followed by living in a very.. right-wing retirement area. It isn’t my best option nor decision, but until my bs catches up with me or I somehow survive, it might as well be the safest. That being said, I can’t confirm nor deny anything, but if someone does read this, please do not slap labels on me or assume a disorder.

I have sunken from a straight-a’s kid to a “if i pass we good” teenager, which could very well be just because of my mental development but it’s working.. I think. I don’t know, educational success isn’t giving me anything considering the state of the country, and I honestly do not think it will. Some may call it upsetting or flame me for it, but that is one of the outcomes I’ve long since accepted.

Before someone reaches out, I’m not that much of a good person. It’s nothing personal, like I said before you all seem like lovely people - I’ve just been carved (and placed by myself) into a more nihilistic mindset. I’ve tried hard but to say I am now would be a lie because as mentioned - nothing’s happened.

So, what will you do mr fatesealer 505 ???

Well, I’m gonna have to grow up. This summer, I was planning on getting a permit since everyone has their license (we’re just sophomores calm down like..) and hopefully a tiny job to keep my hands busy. If I do, this means I get to leave school early. Hip hip hooray.

What does this mean for my uploads?

I’m not sure. I’m trying to relearn digital art the best I can and luckily it seems I haven’t lost my spark in its entirety just yet. Do not assume my life-altering failures will postpone my mediocre hobby.

Despite my utter lack of every fucking thing (bless those who have stayed with me) I would like to try socializing just a teeny bit more just online. Not real-world, there are creeps my age (thank you Texas, I could not ask for better..)

Unless someone spawns and wants to talk or have me expand on my totally untubular experience, you’re free to go ahead.

I will not be changing my avatar. The silly is love and life. And so are all of you for what you have given even if I have never spoken.

Thank you.

[clementines-writing-corner]

mental health, the inadequacy of words, & being kind to yourself

Hello friends.

I am going to be very transparent with you all. I did not get anything done this week. It was a very rough week for me mental health-wise and I could barely drag myself through completing my class assignments, let alone think about writing creatively for fun. (Technically this blog is a class assignment for now, but I try to think of it as a fun hobby so I don’t burn my inspiration out. Having to post once a week for class is just extra motivation to continue to work on my creative writing as opposed to neglecting it for “more important tasks”.) 

I was disgusted with myself this week. I was bone dead exhausted. I kept wanting to cry and cry and cry and never stop, yet the tears would never come. I was so, so very angry, at life, at the world, at myself,  in a way that I rarely ever experience. I felt like I could shatter to pieces at any minute. 

I had a talk with my cousin the other night at a family birthday party about the inadequacy of language, particularly the English language, to truly capture emotion. I envy poets and authors who have the skills to evoke even a mere fraction of the emotions they are feeling or projecting upon their characters through the limited conventions of words. I hope to harness such skills someday. I am most certainly not there yet. I cannot even begin to describe to you the depths of my headspace this past week, and yet I still try. To be quite frank, I have not had a depressive episode so bad in months. It makes me all the more glad that I finally made the decision to attend therapy/counseling. 

I know at least one thing my wonderful therapist (she truly is lovely) will tell me when I visit her this week. I need to practice being kind to myself during tough times. I often get so frustrated when I can’t find the motivation to “properly” do my work or devote my time and energy to something important or beneficial, such as working my creative writing muscles as I do in this blog. And I have always been the type of person to project that frustration and anger inwards, instead of letting it explode outwards. But being negative will only keep me trapped in a vicious cycle of mean thoughts and hurt feelings. Being kind to myself, and giving myself space to rest, recharge, and eventually regain motivation is extremely important. I would do well to remember that more often. And I don’t think I’m the only one who could use a reminder. 

I apologize for dumping that on y’all and the jumbled mess I feel that this post has become, but I think it’s important to be transparent about my ups and downs, in life as well as in my writing. I’m still pulling myself out of the hole I dug this past week. Yet, I do want to reassure you all that I am okay. I may not be great, or even good, but I will get there in time. I am okay.

Whatever you all are going through this week, please remember to be kind to yourselves. And even when it’s hard to, try to remember to dot your j’s and cross your t’s. (Sometimes satisfaction is found in the little things.) It will get better soon. It will.

With lots of love and positive vibes to carry you into this next week, 

~Clementine J. Quincey 🪷

P.S. This post was a bit of a downer (much like my week) so here is something that made me smile this past week; a bright spot in the midst of some cloudy weather, if you will. 

Autumn is my favorite season, (I oft tell my friends I was built for autumnal weather), and this song is just so hauntingly beautiful and melancholic. It almost hurts in a good way. When I stumbled across it this past week, I played it on full blast in my car with my heat pumping but the windows rolled all the way down on my way to class. It was the best. ᕱ__ᕱ

[the-altered-sequence]

Language is powerful, and I’m targeting it at myself

I started writing because I had a cool dream once. I dreamed of genetically altered people hiding underground from some sort of hateful enemy, and it was compelling enough to make it real. I was in love with post-apocalyptic stories and settings but hadn’t yet found an example that embodied all the traits of the genre I wished I saw more of. So I wanted to be the change. I wanted a story where the main character wasn’t a ultra-traditionally-masculine action hero, the women don’t shave their pits, there are major queer characters, and a dog that doesn’t die. I wanted to write characters that felt real, traumatized by their world, but strong enough to keep going, because when I wrote it, I needed that strength to push through my own life.

Bound to Ashes went through so many drafts and changes, it being my first serious attempt at fiction writing. I printed copies at the library to hand out to friends for feedback. One of them even mailed the binder back to me from Italy where he was WWOOFing. I also learned how to format it for eReaders and self-publishing, which I did in 2014.

I think it’s a pretty okay book. If you want to read it, it’s available on Amazon and where you get most other ebooks.

After I finished it, I got really into NaNoWriMo, and wrote other stories. Sequels, new settings, different worlds. But around 2017, I basically stopped writing. Submitting BtA to publishers and querying agents was fruitless and discouraging. I started re-focusing on my visual art instead. Visual art has always been my passion and where I do my best creations-- and it was much more financially viable than writing. I began encountering traumatic responses to things in my life and wanted to address them-- so I turned to writing. I wrote The Plunge, book 4 of The Altered Sequence, in 2022 for NaNoWriMo. Not only did it help with my own life, but I realized I really missed writing. And I benefited greatly from having a true hobby, something I couldn’t be tempted to monteize. Writing fiction about these characters I’ve had with me all these years was the ticket.

I write for myself first and foremost. If I want to write a fun and indulgent scenario, no matter how unrealistic, I lean into it. (Within my own tolerances of cheesiness, of course.) My characters have become like real people in my mind, and thinking of them gives me repose and relief from the stressors of day-to-day. I write (through metaphors) my own problems and conflicts into my stories so my characters can solve them to prove to myself they’re solvable. A bit like art therapy. Language is powerful, and I’m targeting it at myself to help myself out. Writing these has been a present for myself. Re-reading them, I’d forget passages, and experience them for the first time. Reading a book that’s explicitly written for you is a rare experience. It rules. You should try it.

The more I write, the better I get. Bound to Ashes had almost eight full drafts, all very different. It is completely unrecognizable from its first draft. Now, I’m on book 5, brainstorming stuff for book 6. And the draft count is 1-2 now. They’re writing themselves. My prose is becoming tighter, less confusing. It’s almost a shame that to get into the story, one must first read BtA, now the most amateur-sounding of them all. But if you do read it: I love you. And I hope it helps you as it helped me, or at least offers you a refreshing take on post-apocalyptic sci-fi.

The purpose of this blog is to have a place where I can put my Writing Feels and hopefully connect with other fiction writers. I love characters that feel real and I love the authors passionate about them. And I’ll be doing NaNoWriMo again this year, so there will be some shenanigans in November to look forward to.

Stay tuned for Wattpad links to the sequels. If you read this, you’re awesome and I appreciate you.

♥M

[critical-goat]

How Your Relationship With Them Changes (Younger Brothers)

{The post for the older brothers can be found here, the last three can be found under the read more under Satan’s section, no spoilers}

 Satan

Unlike a few most of the others, not much changes in your relationship with him. He already trusted you with so much, and so many of his insecurities and his faults have been laid bare before you and you had loved him even then. He will always how tender and soft you were with him and he is forever grateful for it.

His anger doesn’t get any easier to deal with, but you’re helping him find healthier outlets. It helps, but only for trivial matters. Nothing can really stop the way he gets whenever Lucifer is being decidedly insufferable.

When too many stressors pile up and his rage explodes, it’s best to get out of the line of fire heaven and hell forbid you ever are directly harmed by his anger, he would never forgive himself and seek him out afterwards, in the fallout of his anger, when he arguably needs you most, There isn’t much you can do about it, not without years of therapy (that you are not truly able to give) but you being there makes it easier to cope sometimes and that’s all he could really ask for.

Satan likes exploring and trying new things, and if he can share that with you? Even better. He’s going to try and pull you along into his newest hobbies and is more than eager to learn about and get into any you might have.

Even if he can’t always try new things things with you, he’s more than content to be off doing your own things in the same room. He enjoys the intimacy of being alone together and sometimes appreciates the space.

Make no mistake though, he will eventually gravitate back into your orbit for quality time.

Asmodeus

He becomes a lot more honest about his insecurities, but only when they’re getting to him the most. Don’t be too put off that he wouldn’t be willing to to talk about it whenever you ask. It’s already an accomplishment that he’d admit to their existence. Be gentle with him, he’ll come to you when he’s ready and when he does.... the reflief of being so close and comfortable with someone? He loves knowing he can trust you with the deepest and darkest parts of himself.

It doesn’t happen to him often but he’d still rather focus on you and bolster your own confidence than focus on the inner workings of his insecurities. Just remind him that being vulnerable isn’t all that bad.

Intimacy with him becomes a lot less sexual. Sex is kind of his thing and he absolutely does enjoy it, but knowing you aren’t there for his sex appeal, but for who he is underneath the title and the charming smiles means so much to him.

So for you, in your moments together, your intimacy is chaste and pure, but no less indulgent for the both of you.

Asmo wants all you you and everything that comes with being with you. Your good days, your bad days; your beautiful, your ugly. All of it.

You don’t always have to be perfect or amazing or composed or flawless. He’ll love be there for you through it all. You’re so wonderfully you and that’s all he could ever ask for. 

  Beelzebub

Makes up the last of the ‘doesn’t change much’ squad. Like Satan, he’s always been honest and upfront. Sweet man just wants to keep you happy and safe. You are his world and he shows it.

He’s not good with showing his emotions so he will, and has from the start, speak his mind as plainly as possible. And yet loving you has always been straight forward for him.

Daily kisses are a must for him, with morning kisses being his favorite (it’s certainly the best way to wake up if you ask him). Other affection levels will fluctuate based on your preference, as he relies on your for what’s alright with you. He always waits for your ok before giving any public affection unless you’ve stated you don’t mind. If you’re touch averse, he’ll refrain altogether and only ever wait for you. Beel will follow you any where and every where you’ll allow him, often times looking like a body guard which is fine by him.

Food and snack times (and packing extras) will be an important part of the dai;y routine but your presence satiates and fulfills him enough he can focus on other, more important things. The gnawing hunger never really goes away but its more than he’s had in the past and it’s the most free he’s felt of his burden since his days as an angel.

  Belphegor

Belphie will take the longest to open up, honestly. He has a lot of emotions to sift through and so many things to get past before he puts in the effort to change for you. Once the changes happen, its very noticeable to everyone and seems to happen over night. He will refuse to address that he was ever reluctant to begin with you can try to have a talk with him about it, but the only answer you get boils down to how he finally feels ready to be with you in full.

As a sort of apology to make up for the amount of time it took to get to this point, he quickly familiarizes himself with you, your preferences, your schedule, and does whatever he can to make your daily life easier and less stressful in the most minimal and sleepy brat ways possible. Sometimes its easy to forget there ever was a reluctance because of just how well he seems to anticipate what you want.

He’s no longer tests the waters and is rather forthcoming with his desires and expectations from you and the relationship. All he really wants is exclusive rights to your lap as a napping spot. No sharing, not even with Beel (group cuddles with Beel still happen, his twin just isn’t allowed your lap, that’s HIS hissss).

You don’t have to worry about him sleeping the day away or wasting moments you could have spent together because he’s awake a lot more often and can almost always be found attached to your side. He eventually admits that you’ve given him the motivation to make the effort to stay awake. He wouldn’t miss spending time with you for all the naps in the world. Just don’t be surprised if he starts asking you to carry him places.

[lightcomingthroughthedarkness]

So I'm in a weird dating situation and I'm just confused and thought lets ask tumblr, lol.

So over the summer I started dating a guy. The first time we met, things went well but I had a gut feeling something wasn't right but I couldn't for the life of me put my finger on it. It was just a gut feeling, something just felt off.

We kept on dating all summer and we realized almost right away that we are very different people. I'm direct, honest and go all in. Even though I'm an introvert in most cases, I felt like I needed to be upfront with him about my intentions. So much so, that I admit, I was overdoing it a little. He was more chill and wanted us to slow down and just date and see where we'd end up. But if I have a feeling or a thought, I share, in the name of being honest and upfront about my intentions. Not him. He's a thinker and needs time to form his thoughts before speaking. And if he doesn't feel like saying something, he keeps it to himself. So to say the least, our style of communication was veeeery different. I acknowledged this and talked to him about it so we could better understand one another. Again, he helped me chill down a little and just be in the moment so I didn't think it was all bad.

What I noticed almost right away, was that I was always more interested in his life and asked him thousands of questions about his work, his family, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes etc and he thought I asked "too many questions". He felt like I was overdoing it. Meanwhile, he never really had many questions about my life at all. I brought this up so we could communicate and discuss. His answer was that he was interested in me but that his communication style was different. He wasn't used to direct questions but would rather see us talk and discuss and through discussions, learn more about one another. So I tried that by backing down on questions and letting it flow. He tried too, by starting to ask me questions to show his interest (which he later admitted that he had to google "what to ask someone you're dating")

However, I noticed again that not much happened in regards to him learning more about me. He'd freely share information about his family, his work, his life by sending me photos and little funny stories about them/him. It was important to him that I knew that he was beloved by friends, family and co-workers. It was also important to him that I knew that he was capable, respected and valuable. Even though I later found out he was leaving his job due to a disagreement with his co-boss in their shared business.

Since we had agreed on a more "free discussion" style of communication, I didn't wait for him to ask me, I just shared photos and information about my life too. The difference was that I always had some follow up question about his life, I showed interest in his relationships with his family members, I made small comments about things he'd share with me to show him I was listening and that I cared to learn more. He would never do the same for me. He'd acknowledge what I shared with him but had no follow up questions or comments. He even said once that it was too soon for me to share private information because "we aren't there yet" while he had already sent me family photos of his family. Sometimes I felt like my photos/stories about my life were sent out into the void. I couldn't understand how you show interest in someone's life.. by literally having nothing to say?

At the start of us dating he was direct with me that he expected us to have an active sex life because he believes sex is part of dating. I agreed but wanted to wait until I was more comfortable with him. He kept telling me he wasn't interested in a relationship without the sexual part. Finally, I felt more comfortable and told him I was ready after our 3rd or 4th date. But then he started acting weird telling me he thought it was better to wait longer, as I had originally wanted to do. I was so confused and felt rejected. I again was upfront and told him I was ready. So we made plans and met up. Turns out he needed to tell me that he had been suffering from a lot of stress and psychological pressure from a lot of different things in life so it affected his physical health. I was shocked. He had made it suuuper clear that he expected sex.. only to keep such information from me. I was supportive and wanted him to know that I was a safe place for him.

So while all of that made me confused and I did bring it up several times with him, he kept showing up. He would always text me, always tell me good night/good morning with heart emojis, always reach out during the day to catch up, always asked to see me and hang out with me, even when we'd argue he'd never call me names, he'd never yell at me or touch me unless I wanted him to. He just kept showing his interest by showing up. Even though I thought some of our contact lacked depth. But I was willing to let a lot slide.

But since the summer, we've been doing long distance with me planning on visiting next month. So we kept in touch by text mostly. Again, he kept on showing up. Not one day went by without him reaching out to me. In that way, he made his interest clear. He kept using pet names for me and was always very sweet like that.

But still, our communication didn't improve much. We still had a lot of big differences about values and life. Sadly, I never really thought he took my feelings seriously about how sad I was that our communication was lacking. I mean, the guy kept showing up in a lot of ways, even through long distance... but he couldn't ask one question about my life or make me feel like he was truly interested in ME. Instead he thought I was overdoing it, trying to shape life to fit a "rule book" and how I just couldn't live in the moment like him. To me, it felt like he was just ignoring my reasons for wanting to make my intentions clear and that I didn't want to waste my time with someone who didn't share my intentions. He said he did, that he too was dating me with the intention of a future together but that we just differ in our ways to get to that future. Again, I was willing to let it slide that perhaps I wouldn't get ALL my emotional needs met and that I needed to trust the process.

While learning more about each other, he told me how he is a stubborn person and will cut a person out of his life if he believes "the other person doesn't deserve to be in his life". He did this to his best friend after they had a fight. But his friend "clawed" his way back into his life and finally he relented and realised his friend "valued their friendship over a fight". He told me he doesn't trust anyone but "god and myself". He told me if someone likes him, he likes them back. If a woman breaks up with him, he'd stop caring about her in 5 seconds because "why should I care if she doesn't care" and then she'd be dead to him. I learned that he had lost his mother as a child and a part of him doesn't feel whole and his only wish is that he'll see her again in the afterlife. I once asked him if he ever forgive people in his life for making a mistake, he said "never". He said if someone wronged him, he'd wait 50 years if he had to but he'd always "find a way to get even".

He told me about an ex, how she cheated on him when they were teenagers. She came back and wanted to date again, so he went out with her and they ended up having sex.. only for him to throw her out right after they finished because she was a "bitxh for thinking he'd take her back". He basically made her believe they'd fix it, played her for some cheap sex and then kicked her out. He was furious with me when I called him out on that behavior and he said "only god can judge me".

He also told me he had gone to therapy a few years ago but he was very private about why he went. So I told him a little about why I went but still, he didn't share much. He just said "I'm a complex person to understand. I have a lot of love to give but it's your job to find that love". He always felt judged, criticized or offended by me, even though it was never my intention. I could question something he had said or done and he'd get annoyed with me for "judging him all the time" or "always expecting the worst". I asked him how he wanted me to communicate with him so we could minimize situations where he'd feel that way but he didn't have an answer, just that I "talk normally".

All of these stories made me feel weird and I wasn't comfortable with it. Then one day we had an argument about our lack of communication and I was just so fed up, I decided to ignore his good morning text and didn't text him all day but I posted a story on instagram about something completely irrelevant to our relationship (a story with my niece). I needed to think, to understand my own feelings and try and understand what our problem was before reaching out.

Later that day he got annoyed and told me to stop behaving like a child. So I finally reached out and texted him back. I asked him how come he couldn't understand that it hurts my feelings that we can't even seem to TALK to each other without misunderstandings, how he makes fun of me by saying I need a "rule book" to life etc for simply wishing we could be better at communicating. He said he didn't make fun of me and that he didn't believe my reaction was normal since the fight wasn't that big a deal.

What did he do? He broke up with me right then and there. Told me it is unacceptable to him that his partner ignores him/his texts and that he can't handle being ignored. While I agree, I should not have ignored him but rather talked to him about it, I'm only human and was growing so frustrated. I said, lets talk about this, lets talk about triggers and what deal breakers we have so we can better understand each other and not repeat the same mistakes. He said he wasn't interested and that he could "never forgive me for this mistake". He couldn't see himself spending his life with someone who ignores his texts because what if this happens again? No, he was not interested in giving me a chance to explain or for us to learn more about the other. I asked him if maybe there were other reasons for him losing interest (me being so direct, too open, moving too fast, my own issues that I work on every day and acknowledge etc) he said no, it was just that ONE mistake, my not answering one text message.

I told him that I thought his reaction to my not returning ONE message, after a fight, was a bit of an overreaction but he said he couldn't risk it, in case I do this again in the future. He said he refuses "to be made a fool" by me so he is no longer interested to continue dating because I had shown my true colors by not texting him back but still posting on instagram as if I didn't see his text. He said "that was clearly directed at me" even though I explained that I have a life outside of him. I asked him if he still liked me and he said that he did but that it wasn't enough after my mistake.

So I asked him what we are going to do about my visit next month. He said he is willing to see me if that's what I want, to see him, but he's not interested in a relationship any longer. He also said he's willing to still text with me sometimes and that he doesn't want to come across as "the bad guy". So if I want to stay in contact with him we can do that, we can talk and we can meet up too. But nothing else.

Wtf. I am no longer interested in a relationship with him after all this.. but what the actual fuck. Am I crazy here.. or maybe is his "black and white" way of thinking just impossible to deal with in a relationship? I would have accepted and respected his decision 10000 times over if he had said that he no longer likes me and doesn't see a future for us. But breaking up over my not returning ONE TEXT MESSAGE?! 🤷🏻‍♀️

[cmtuckerly]

25 Things I learned by 25

1. A dream isn’t the same as a passion. Publishing a book is a dream, but writing is a passion. You can’t take away passion. 

2. Don’t expect to become an adult during undergrad. You’ll definitely grow, but you’re still figuring things out. You’ll make mistakes. Undergrad is when you can still have fun, do whatever you want, and not be answerable to anyone (rejoice in not yet having a supervisor or boss to report to). You can take whatever electives you want. You can choose to study for that midterm for as much or as little you want. It’s one of your last times to be chaotic (whatever chaotic means to you) before going into the workforce or starting grad school, where you have responsibilities have and to answer to a supervisor. 

3. You don’t need to impress anyone with your life, especially not your friends or relatives. It’s your life and you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with the choices your make, not them. Their judgements and approval aren’t going to be what sustains you. It only matters whether you’re happy with what you do. 

4. Age differences matter less when you get older. When you were 18, it felt weird being in the same class as a 19 year old. But when you’re 25, you’ll be working on projects with people who are 22, 33, and 50, and everyone’s opinion has comparable weight. You gain a lot of wisdom and maturity when you work with people outside of your age cohort. Also, stop putting so much stock into your 20s. After having a year taken away from my 20s due to the plague, I’m trying to tell myself that being young is more of a state of mind than an age range. Likewise, I find the label “old soul” pretentious as heck. 

5. Living harmoniously with your housemates means that you should communicate clearly what your expectations are for the bathroom and kitchen. Tell your housemates to clean their own hair from the drain after they shower instead of letting everyone’s hair clog it up after a month. Tell your housemates to clean their food from the kitchen drain after they do their own dishes. 

6. No matter who shames you, don’t feel bad about staying up til 4am and waking up at 2pm. In a way, sometimes it’s a privilege to have a school/work life that allows you to have a dysfunctional sleep schedule. Embrace it while you can.  

7. Don’t feel regret for the mistakes you made or the things you didn’t do. You only wish you made a different decision now because you have hindsight. At the time you made that decision, you didn’t know any better and thought that was the best choice. Those series of decisions and mistakes you made helped form the person you are and the wisdom you have now. So why regret that things that helped make you you?

8. It’s okay to lie to your family and friends in order to make it easier to get some space to breathe. You don’t owe anyone your time or explanations. 

9. ”Your vibe attracts your tribe”. Something I heard from a youtuber. There will always be at least one person out there who likes what you do, no matter how niche it is. You’ll always find an audience for your voice. Keep doing you.

10, Some deadlines are flexible and some rules are bendable. Don’t always do things by the book. Things will work out. They’ll be fine. Rejection also doesn’t mean you’re not good enough or not capable. Rejections means you weren’t given that opportunity, but it doesn’t mean you are incapable to learning that knowledge. It’s also why going to college and having a post-secondary education isn’t necessary for success. Likewise, don’t take failure so seriously. Learn from it, yes, but it’s not going to matter in the grand scheme of things years from now. 

11. Don’t mistake being nice for flirting. You’ll make yourself too vulnerable that way. 

12. Invest mental energy into something meaningful. Staring at someone’s instagram profile or a celebrity’s photos on google images isn’t going to change anything. Similarly, that trip to Paris you took, the fairy lights in your room, or the hipster cafe you spend your time in doesn’t make you more artsy or cultured. The great plague of 2020 taught me to re-evaluate and redefine what’s left of my personality when I’m stuck at home for a year. 

13. My favourite form of therapy: wandering solo. Whether it be walking through a city, a summer music festival, hiking through a forest, driving, or going to a museum or art gallery on my own. There’s a lot of freedom when you’re alone and anonymous.  

14. Go eat alone in that restaurant (when safe and appropriate). No one is noticing. And if they do, take pride in the fact that you’re more open-minded and confident than they are. 

15. No one remembers the mistake or embarrassing thing you did in your meeting or presentation. People have better things to remember and think about in their lives. 

16.  Fate is just meaning that we choose to give to certain coincidences. It’s not real. 

17. Meet-cutes don’t end in happily ever after like they do in the movies. But they do make for interesting stories.

18. Don’t expect to meet the love of your life at a cafe, bookstore, social dance night, or whatever special event. People are mostly there to work, find a book, practice their dance skills, and socialize with their friends. They’re not paying much attention to people around them. 

19. Maturity is being able to have a celebrity crush and knowing that it’ll never work out in real life and being okay with that. It’s all about learning how to have a healthy balance of emotional attachment and emotional distance. 

20. I think one martini gets me just as tipsy as 3 glasses of wine. I need to do more tests to find out though. 

21. A good conversationalist and someone who has the same interests as you doesn’t mean they’ll be a good partner. There are lots of people who fit that criteria. That’s why we have friends. 

22. Fake it ‘til you make it. Feeling unconfident? Pretend that you are! Shy? Pretend to be the charismatic person you always wanted to be. No one will be the wiser. All the world’s a stage. Everyone’s trying to act out the best versions of themselves. As a shy introvert, I’m always worried about stuttering and betraying to others that I’m not as knowledgeable or confident than I actually I am. But I find that it somewhat helps to think less about what people think of me and to think more about the effect that I want to have on others. By projecting outwards, I become a little less self-conscious and ruminate inwards less. 

23. Spending a lot of time with someone doesn’t mean you’ll be friends with them. After pulling all-nighters for group projects and seeing my group members more than my own friends and family for 4 months at a time and then never speaking to the group again despite how much we’ve bonded during the group project, I finally understand why actors don’t always become close friends with their co-stars. 

24. Read. Learn how to tell stories, whether visually, orally, or textually. You’ll learn how to think more clearly. Unplugging from your phone and computer for 2-3 hours to do this really helps. 

25. Be creative, curious, open, and spontaneous. Make the most of a disappointing situation. Be positive. Everything is an opportunity, from being stuck in traffic to being stuck in a grocery line. Everything can lead to a story that can be told later. Drive aimlessly for an hour every weekend and notice how the landscape changes and how neighbourhoods shift. Be open to taking up new hobbies. Be open to reconnecting with an old friend over coffee, even if the homebody inside you wants to cancel everything. 

[bellakitse]

So I have been letting the current state of the world and my personal life get in the way of my writing, something that is very much therapy for my depression. In an effort to get out of my funk, and be able to write my longer fics, I have decided to do Flash Fiction Friday. 

Every Friday I will strive to post a quick fic.

This first one is dedicated to my two best friends, my support system, and truly the great loves of my life. @insidious-intent​ (who made this beautiful gif above) and @beka1820​ (who holds my hand through every story I write) I don’t know what I would do without you two in my life. Love you darlings.

So here we go, the first Stef’s Flash Fiction Friday.

All the Reasons

In the three years TK Strand has been dating Carlos Reyes, there are many things he’s come to adore about the man he loves more than he ever thought possible. He loves that Carlos is a ridiculously cheery morning person, where TK will hit the snooze button at least four times before he has to groan out of bed; Carlos gets up at least ten minutes before his alarm, whistling as he heads for the bathroom. If he didn’t love him so much, TK would smother him with his pillow for this.

He’s endlessly amused that Carlos likes to listen to Latin Trap music while he cooks, shaking his ass better than any stripper as he stirs sauces or chops up veggies.

TK appreciates that while horror movies freak him out, Carlos will still watch them just because TK enjoys them. He holds Carlos close as he hides his face in the crook of his neck as a thank you for putting up with his hobby.

He all but melts when it’s time for them to go to bed. For how big Carlos is, he insists on being the little spoon when they sleep. Carlos will arrange them to his liking until TK is practically on top of him, covering his body with his own. Only then will Carlos fall into a peaceful sleep, a soft smile adorning his face as he dreams.

TK loves that Carlos isn’t just his boyfriend, the man he loves, or his soulmate, though he’s certainly proven to be all those things. He’s also TK’s best friend. The one person besides his father that he can be at his worst with. When he’s all but broken from the memories of past mistakes. When temptation rears its ugly head, and his hand itches to reach for a bottle – beer, or worse yet, pills. It’s Carlos that is there, never judging, always ready to hold him as he cries and rages over an addiction that will never completely go away. It’s Carlos that dries his tears and tells him how proud he is of him. It’s Carlos that promises him he can overcome his shortcomings and that no matter what, he’ll be there standing next to him as TK fights his demons.

He loves how gentle and kind Carlos is, not just with him but also with his family, friends, and TK’s own father. He still remembers when, early in their dating, with his dad still in treatment how Carlos took it upon himself to care for both of them. Making hearty soups for Owen when he realized that both the Strand men weren’t fans of the kitchen, and he would make Owen shakes meant to help with detox from the chemo. More than once, TK found Carlos in their kitchen cooking and keeping his dad company until he arrived, not wanting his dad to be alone as the treatment took a harder toll on the man.

Most of all, he loves that he’s never once doubted that Carlos loves him just as fiercely as he loves him. He’s an all or nothing kind of guy; he knew from the moment they first kissed that if he opened his heart to Carlos, he would hand it over to the young cop completely. It’s why he resisted so hard at the beginning of their relationship to let it grow. Once he stopped fighting the gravitational pull that is Carlos Reyes’ entire being, loving him became as vital as breathing for TK. To be loved back by Carlos is a blessing he is thankful for every day.

“You’re a million miles away.”

TK startles out of his thoughts; he looks up from the couch to see Carlos leave their kitchen with a plate in his hand. He smiles as Carlos sits down next to him, kissing him on the cheek when he’s settled before he offers him a spoonful of the flan he’s been working on.

“Mmm,” TK moans at the rich flavor that fills his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

“I added coconut this time,” Carlos informs him, chuckling when he opens his mouth for another bite.

TK smiles around the mouthful, pleased by the treat Carlos is feeding him.

“So, what were you thinking about?” Carlos asks as he takes a bite for himself. “You seemed deep in thought.”

“I was thinking about all the reasons I love you,” he answers honestly, his heart tripping over itself at how Carlos’ expression softens in that way that is just for him.

“Are there a lot of reasons?” he asks, teasing in that loving way of his.

“I could fill a library with books on all the reasons I love you, sweetheart,” he tells him; the smile he gets in return is brighter and warmer than the Texan sun. “I want to be with you forever.”

“Really?” Carlos whispers, his voice filled with so much love for TK, it instantly makes him come to a decision. The reaction to it is so intense, it amazes him it’s taken him this long to realize. He gives it voice before doubt has a chance to seep through.

“We should get married,” he says, his conviction growing with each word. He’s never been more sure about anything in his life.

Carlos looks at him, brown eyes blown wide, the thankfully empty dish in his hand going slack. He continues to stare at TK for a moment, not seeming to realize that his silence is making TK’s heart skyrocket. Then, he gets up without saying a word, leaving TK behind as he heads for their bedroom.

TK blinks rapidly, not sure what’s just happened. His throat feels like it’s closing, and his blood roars in his ears, but he doesn’t have a chance to have a breakdown before Carlos comes back into the living room, breathing hard as he clutches something in his hand.

“Are you serious?” he asks in a rush. “Did you mean what you just said? Do you want to get married?”

TK looks at Carlos, taking in the tense of his shoulders, he looks like a spring ready to go off, but his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes that TK loves oh so much, look so full of hope and anticipation, TK forgets that his heart started to break just moments ago and nods.

Carlos exhales, his whole body going soft as he comes back to sit down next to TK.

“I bought it six months ago,” he says as he opens his hand to reveal a simple white band with a trio of diamonds encrusted in the middle. Carlos smiles as it makes TK gasp. “I have been trying to figure out the perfect way to ask. Leave it to you to beat me to the punch,” he says, tenderly amused.

“I didn’t do it perfectly,” he whispers now with regret as he looks at the beautiful ring in Carlos’ hand. “I just blurted it out, and I don’t even have a ring.”

Carlos shakes his head at him. “Baby, the fact that you feel the same way, that you want to marry me too, that makes it perfect,” he answers with a gentle smile as he wipes at the tears that have now slipped down TK’s cheeks. “Can I put it on you?” he asks, chuckling when TK nods rapidly in agreement.

He isn’t done slipping it on TK’s finger before TK pulls him into a hard kiss. They’re laughing and crying by the time they come up for air. He presses his forehead against Carlos’, taking in that beautiful smile of his. “I’m going to tell you every day all the reasons I love you.”

“How long is that going to take?” Carlos asks teasingly, his smile deepening as he brushes his lips against TK’s once more.

TK smiles back, his heart so full it feels like it will burst. “Only the rest of our lives.”

[enthusiasticsobrietyabuse]

Re-post from r/MeehanSurvivors Reddit Community. An Enthusiastic Sobriety Counselor Survivor Story.

TW: References to child pornography, conversion therapy, homophobia, masturbation, and sex.

I would love nothing more than to preserve my admiration for the program, if only for the reason that it would be easier to do so, but after years of being deceived, I find it utterly absurd to disregard any contempt on the basis of the misplaced gratitude that it saved my life. While the program undoubtedly contributed to my success in a number of ways, it has nevertheless become clear that I’ve walked away with trauma that, even after all of this time, I fail to wholly understand. What I do know, however, is that my disillusionment with enthusiastic sobriety is heavily rooted in how I was treated, as the people who claimed to love me evidently made it their mission to eradicate who I was and, likewise, transform me into a duller, lesser version of themselves. I will never know who I could’ve been had they honored the parts of myself that needed nurturing, only who I am today and the damage I’ve since been left with.

From the moment I joined the program, I knew exactly what its expectations were. It was made abundantly clear throughout the treatment process, where I was bombarded with endless conversations about what it meant to be a winner - a concept given context far beyond a sober individual working the twelve steps. I was not only told how to behave, but what to believe about every area of my life. It did not matter if those areas were deeply personal, as evidenced by the countless discussions related to sex; in fact, I would not only learn who we could and could not fantasize about while masturbating, but what we could and could not do sexually - as if we could not be trusted to determine for ourselves the actions we take in our own bedrooms. I also found myself on the receiving end of many conversations revolving around whether or not it was acceptable to shave one’s own pubic region, as was a commonly held belief that a shaved pubic region was not only unnecessary, but a product of one’s own vanity that, incidentally, mimics child pornography. Perhaps more disturbing, however, was the ideology surrounding pornography, in general, that we were ordinarily subjected to. We were first told that no self-respecting woman would want to be with a man who’s actively watching porn; then, we were told that it alters a man’s behavior so much that women will be able to recognize whether or not they watch it. The possibility of romance was used as a weapon against us by the counselors, as well as group members, to conform to their principles, rather than allowing us to establish our own and when that didn’t work, personal attacks were their next best option. I remember being asked if I really wanted to be the guy who’s strung out on porn the rest of his life, as if it was some kind of crippling addiction that would keep me from getting anything I ever wanted out of life. Even more importantly, however, it was through these frequent exchanges that I became familiarized with “Pavlov’s Dog Theory,” a scientific study so bastardized by the counselors that it existed solely to explain away the possibility of any non-heterosexual orientation. Being insecure with my own sexuality, it was of course music to my ears to discover that my attraction to the same sex, a perversion as I then recognized it, was the result of watching too much porn and could be easily resolved by the work outlined by the program. For the next few years, I would work endlessly to alter my sexual orientation back to “normal” and apparently did so well enough that I was eventually asked to attend the Meehan Institute of Counselor Training.

When I was in counselor training, most of what we discussed had very little to do with counseling; in fact, the information required to pass the state-mandated test was tossed aside in exchange for the radically inappropriate teachings that came directly from the program itself. Examples of this, of course, include the explanation that non-heterosexual orientations were not only “unnatural” but an expression of one’s perverse desire for instant gratification, usually resulting from either their addiction to porn, as I had already learned in outpatient, or their unresolved childhood trauma. It was also reasoned that an attraction to the same sex was often a natural consequence of being in an abusive relationship with a member of the opposite sex, a belief supported only by the theory that the person, in question, had unlikely resolved their own fear of getting hurt again. Some people were just “pussies” that had decided to seek the “easier, softer way,” an almost comical assumption given that there is nothing “easier” or “softer” about being queer. I would actually be referred to as a “pussy” while sharing to one of the program's many directors that I had sexual thoughts about other men. His solution for me was that since “there is nothing romantic about two men butt fucking each other,” I should spend the time wasted fantasizing about that on where I would like to take a girl on a date. It’s these ways of thinking that we, who’s families spend $5,600 to send us to counselor training, learn for the three months that we’re there. It’s these three months, where we are taught that absurdity is a natural substitute for science, that earn us the right to then counsel others, many of whom are children. I never could've imagined the abuse that would follow, despite the seeds that had been sown throughout the better part of my recovery.

A few weeks after I graduated from counselor training, when I was working the Step One shift, a couple of the program's directors took me away from it to smoke cigars with them. It was there that they talked to me about how I needed to work on developing more masculine qualities, perhaps by engaging in a hobby that was, according to them, “outside of my comfort zone.” Later on, one of my coworkers would lecture me for the way I had reached out to a girl in the group, explaining that she, along with others, might think that I’m gay for agreeing to watch a “chick flick” with her. Another coworker would make fun of me for crying to a song that reminded me of my dead parent, for the reason that it was, according to her, a “gay” thing to do. In one of the monthly purpose meetings, the director made jokes about me being “inside” of another male counselor - something that was received only with laughter. Bob Meehan himself would even tell the training class following my own that while I deserved the upmost respect for taking everyone’s shit, I was probably gay. When I would share how I felt, in reference to these incidents, I was told that my options were either to “change it” or to “own it.” I began to internalize all of this and, due to my own desire to be accepted, I began working even harder to change these qualities that had been deemed unacceptable by those around me. I would later be celebrated in a purpose for denouncing a dramatic television show for the reason that when I watched it, it made me feel like a “faggot;” however, even that wouldn’t satisfy those around me, as my sponsor, who was also my coworker, would suggest that I stop watching Friends, as well, due to the fact that it was the kind of show his wife watched. I would experience similar criticism from yet another coworker who suggested that I only liked “girly shit” for “shock value” and that it was nothing more than my ego attempting to differentiate myself from everyone else. If by now you’re wondering why I even participated in these conversations, all I can say is that it was always in pursuit of becoming a better man and I trusted that the staff had those answers. I couldn't have been more wrong, as I can't help but notice today that what I was subjected to is in direct opposition of the very laws that protect employees from this kind of treatment by their employers; however, in the program, what’s illegal is classified as “spiritual.”

For years, I felt relegated to a subclass of human existence and for what reason? I spent years working on the things that made my life unmanageable primarily because the people around me decided that it was. Furthermore, I was promised that if I stopped watching porn, which I did for years, my brain would rewire itself and I would no longer be attracted to men. As stupid as that sounds now, why wouldn’t I, as an 18 year old, believe what I was hearing from who I only presumed to be trained professionals? I trusted them and really worked hard to take their every suggestion, going as far as becoming a member of Sexaholics Anonymous, despite the fact that I had never even had sex at that point. It was nothing if not incredibly painful to do the same thing over and over again, only to be told to get up and try again by the very people who would describe that as insanity in any other case. I was never once told that what I was doing wasn’t working for me; instead, I was told to try harder. In all of the time I spent in the program, I was never even given the option to try something different until after quitting, when someone told me that my sexual orientation, whatever it may be, was perfectly acceptable and far from a determining factor in my ability to effectively work a program. It took years to hear that, the majority of which were spent somewhere that I definitely should have. That is not only unacceptable but they should be absolutely ashamed of themselves.

Alas, the problem I have with the program is not necessarily that they’ll never apologize to me, but that they lack the self-awareness to even consider it. When I shared my concerns about the program with one of their counselors, he dismissed them with the statement that it’s a perfect program ran by imperfect people and that I should judge them not by their actions, but by their intentions, which coincidentally, contradicts the program’s reliance on a quote from the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous that states exactly the opposite. He also told me that I was angry and resentful, despite the fact that I was neither. When I shared my concerns with another counselor, he dismissed them with the suggestion that perhaps the counseling I received, in regards to my sexual orientation, resulted from how I presented it to the staff. His feedback was not only highly insulting, but a complete bastardization of the facts. Not only was I brutally honest about that area of my life, so much that it's all I spoke of, but I was the client and it was far from my role to ensure that the counselors did their job. I was little more than a child at the time; nevertheless, the implication that my negative experiences were all my fault only served as evidence that any attempt to cooperate with the program, and convince them of the ways in which I was harmed, is futile. Why would I want to, anyway, after years of watching any criticism of the program be rationalized as the delusions of “bailed kids” or “disgruntled ex-staff?” The only answer would be to prevent it from happening again, although to think that outcome is even a possibility appears naïve at best. They’ve made it abundantly clear where they stand, that they’re right, everyone else is wrong, and there’s no reason for them to change anything - lest of course it threatens their credibility, which in that case they only become more insidious in their transgressions.

TLDR: The program not only intrusively dictates the sex lives of their clients, but has proven itself to be particularly unloving toward those who are LGBTQIA+. It is a cultural issue that can not be reduced to a few examples of bad counseling. It is clear that they see no reason whatsoever to change this.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Trigger Warning: searching for abusers online, feeling hopeless, fear for future, mention of medication

I don’t even know why I’m posting this.

Been in a weird headspace for this past week or so. I can’t really explain it other than a sense of being trapped and frustrated.

I’ve started a new job that I’m doing well in, I guess, and I do find the work engaging and interesting. I should be happy. And yet I spend most of my shift at home sitting at my desk barely moving and staring at my screen in panic when more and more emails arrive.

Then spend my time off work brooding about the big ominous “future”. I’m scared about what will happen. My parents aren’t getting any younger and one day will be gone. I’m not getting younger either; I just can’t visualise myself succeeding in my career or having a loving relationship, or being able to look after my autistic younger brother. I mean, my parents have said categorically they don’t expect me to look after him when they’re gone and want me to live my own life. I’m not doing that though. I feel like time is running out and I want to run away.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Then today I just decided to go and try and find the guys who assaulted me in school on social media. I don’t even know why I done that. To see if karma got them? Or punish myself to see if they’re living better?

Well, I couldn’t find them in any case. Maybe a small mercy. I’m crazy, a disappointment. Probably do dread the future because I know deep down in my core that I don’t have a future.

The thing is, I take about 50mg a day of Sertraline medication since about late 2019. The Doctors previously have said they want to reduce me further, though I don’t know. I’m wondering if I do need my dose upped. Then feel stupid at having to go back up, like I can’t cope with life otherwise. People will write me off.

Ugh, actually hate myself and wish I could go and sleep, not waking up.

Hi anon, 

I want to start off by saying that you are valid. And your feelings are valid and understandable. You aren’t alone in feeling like time is running out. This is a relatable feeling to me honestly. As hard as it is, I try not to get too caught up on “time running out.” It’s also taken me a long time to quit focusing so much on the future. I am working on focusing in the here and now. 

What is something today that could make you feel happy, or at least a little better? Is it watching a favourite show? Going for a walk? Partaking in a hobby? It’s okay to stop and enjoy the moments as they come. 

You are not alone in looking up your abusers. People do it for all sorts of reasons, but whatever the reasons, you are valid. And you aren’t alone. 

Is therapy accessible to you? Being able to talk to someone who can help you navigate some of these thoughts and help come up with coping skills might be useful to you. 

Do any followers have any advice? 

April

[swaps55]

Random Sam headcanons, thanks to some recent Discord questions and back and forth between the RLRO and myself: 

If Sam were a teenager in the 2000s, what would be his favorite band? 

Sam would probably lazily belt out every word of "If I Had A Million Dollars," by Barenaked Ladies, off-key, with emphasis on "haven't you ever wanted a MON-KEY?" And if someone snorted and said, "betcha twenty bucks you can't do One Week," he'd have grinned and won himself $20.

Who was his mentor? 

Anderson is definitely a mentor to Sam, but there was also another very important figure: Guthra Tulak, a one-time krogan shaman who had been ostracized from the Krogan Empire for reasons I haven't figured out yet. I'm still mulling over a lot of the details, but as a post-BAaT, pre-Ascension Project biotic, Sam had astronomical potential but there was no good training program in place for human biotics. 

Enter the Ares Project, a highly classified experiment in which the Alliance brought in Tulak to work with a handful of teens who were not only high in biotic potential, but also had incredible aptitude scores that suggested they'd go far in the Alliance. The thought was that the krogan could provide a completely different approach to the biotics while also giving these kids a chance to learn from one of the most formidable species in the galaxy. It was a brutal program, but Tulak turned out to be a good choice - she was wise and dedicated, if you were willing to do the work. Sam was. He connected with her pretty quickly, and for the first time in his life felt understood by someone. 

In addition to learning biotics, he also wanted to learn about the krogan, and she taught him everything he wanted to know. As such, he feels very comfortable among the krogan people, and "gets" them more than most humans do. Tulak is responsible for Sam's signature biotic fighting style: "if you get in its face fast enough and hit it hard enough, it'll probably stop bothering you." 

What’s something Sam does to indulge himself? 

Sam’s never been a material person outside of his gear, and he’s terrible about spoiling himself. But post-war, Sam gets some equine therapy as part of his healing process, thanks to Mrs. Alenko, who's owned horses her entire life. To Kaidan's horror, Sam decides he likes it and takes up riding as a hobby. Now he constantly comes home with new tack, brushes, etc. Kaidan doesn't know what any of it is for, and 90% of the time Sam doesn't either. Thank goodness Mrs. Alenko does.

Kaidan: Are you...are you modding the horse? 

Sam: ...maybe. 

Kaidan: It's a horse, Sam. Not a gun. 

Sam: That sounds like quitter talk. 

Kaidan: ..... 

Sam: [pats the horse]

What does he name his fish? 

He names all the jellyfish Blasto, except one, which he calls Squishy (Sam has no idea which jellyfish is actually Squishy; when someone asks, he just peers at the tank, pretends to look, and points at one).

Every single fish is named Kevin. Every one. Picture him scooping a dead one out of the tank with a heartfelt, "I really liked Kevin," right before dumping a new Kevin into the tank.

He convinces Garrus that Kevin is really just a human word for "fish." 

"Not according to my translator," Garrus says with a healthy dose of skepticism, because he's been down this road before. 

 "It's a slang term," Sam swears. 

Eventually Garrus is reluctantly convinced, because Sam really is the type who would just call his fucking fish, "fish." So Garrus starts referring to fish as "kevin." Even does it once when ordering sushi, which is when he learns that of course it's all bullshit, really, he knows better, but he's in so deep at this point he's going to go down with that ship, and continues calling fish Kevin with a "fight me about it" attitude. 

So Sam says, you know what, fuck it, fish=kevin, now and for always, and has in fact ordered “swordkevin” at a very nice restaurant, even though Garrus was millions of lightyears away. That was one of those moments when Kaidan had to remind himself that he loves this man.

[onyourzeus]

• beat of my heart | ydw

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: beat of my heart  pairing: yoon dowoon (of day6) & you genre: fluff, non-idol!au, college!au words: 4.3k

author’s note: finally, a dowoon fic that i thoroughly enjoyed writing (hence how long it is) it went on a different track than planned, but isn’t that how most of my fics are turning out to be? lol. please do enjoy!

this dot fic is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: wonpil (currently only have 2/5 completed)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

there isn’t a lot that occupies dowoon’s mind. he gets classified as an introvert by people who have known him for years but this doesn’t mean too much for him

sure, he likes to keep to himself and only open up to people he’s trusted for a while which… is the kind of life he wants to lead

with that being said, other things that goes under Dowoon’s Approved Interests would be: playing the drums, playing a ton of games, and… animals 

upon entering college, he wondered if he’d have the free time to care for animals just like when he was younger, volunteering at the nearest animal shelter in which everyone who worked there knew who he was

and always regarded him as the shy little boy but also borderline an animal whisperer. it gave dowoon lots of fun memories to look back on his childhood, and for a moment he considered studying veterinary science to continue his passion for loving dogs cats and everything in between

but another love of his life was introduced in first year high school, and that is the drums. as his social circle expanded (as much as he permitted it to, so not by a lot), so did his club activities in music and even playing as a filler in different bands became his priority (next to academics) 

he still visited the shelter from time to time, it wasn’t something he could just drop so easily; bonding with stray-turned-angelic pets waiting for their forever family was his form of therapy, in a way, when music got too complicated at times or when he’s struggling with a class

and then there’s playing league or overwatch or pubg to release stress in a more high-energy fashion

so when the time came that he needed to choose a major, the first thing that came into mind was music theory. he wanted to get better at playing drums, understanding notes, and improving his performance skills overall

he’s experienced frustration over figuring out the rhythm for certain songs he liked to play before, so this is what made him decide that music is the type of interest he’d want to pursue as a career

and bonding with animals… well, would be just that. this way, he doesn’t get burnt out with the one hobby he feels much peace with. his happy place, if you will 

so imagine dowoon’s surprise when he learnt of a volunteering organization on campus that caters to helping out local animal shelters on the weekends. literally what he has been doing since he was a wee lad

it was perfect timing to have passed by the club booth during intro week, he already planned on auditioning for the established bands on campus (day6 sounds like a perfect fit for him, tbh) but he hadn’t reached that level of confidence with his drumming skills yet

distracting himself with going to the shelter every so often would help him leave the dorm for a bit (his roommate ha subtly asked many a times for him to ease off of the mouse clicking during the late hours of the night and shouting, “gg” over and over) 

the first few times he went to the org’s events at the shelter, it was… a little awkward

one, he didn’t know anybody and two, he isn’t exactly the cute little shy 10 year old he once was that knew every auntie and uncle in his small town. 

and everyone else in the event… already seems to know each other. dowoon recognizes the guy who handed him a flyer talking to the animal shelter coordinators up in the front. he had been lost in the crowd of his peers that he has no idea what’s going on

he just wants to pet sum dogs and play laser pointers with cats, is that too much to ask for?

suddenly, everyone had dispersed into groups and apparently you choose where you want to be included in

great, dowoon is just smiling awkwardly to himself as he feels the tips of his ears blush bright red

“hi! dowoon, right? do you have a group to join?” he whips his head to the sound of your voice, just a few feet ahead of him. he’s confused as to why you knows his name, so he points to himself and feels the flimsy paper nametag attached by double-sided tape on his shirt

oh, duh. they had the new prospective members do it a while ago 

he sees your name too, and remembers it in the back of his head like a prayer

dowoon shakes his head, perpetually shy and blushing hard now. you feel a sense of guilt singling him out like that in the crowd, so you approach him more closely and signal to follow you

“i’m part of the board members, and we don’t have enough people in our group so you can come join us!” as publicity chair, it is your duty to make others feel comfortable and welcomed in the org. and this is your time to shine

“we’re looking at some bigger doggos today, do you have any pets, dowoon?” you try to make polite introductions as you lead the group to where you’re assigned. like a lost puppy on his own, dowoon follows suit. he’s grateful for some guidance, and actually seeing the animals calm him down for a moment

and it doesn’t feel like everyone’s staring at him anymore as he hears chit-chatting surrounding the place

so he focuses his attention on you instead, and he somewhat regrets it

he’s not those guys who don’t have girl friends, but most of the friendships he’s formed with them are due to the fact that he was introduced by a mutual friend

so dowoon is, how do you say it, entranced by the way you talk about your first big dog in the house 

and the two that followed after, and how you stopped playing with your friends from the neighborhood

because all you needed in life were your golden retrievers and newfoundland

dowoon finds himself sharing his own childhood experiences of spending time at a shelter, but never having a dog of his own

“family allergies,” he shrugs and you pout for him in frustration 

wow, he’s never seen someone so invested by the fact that he never got to own a pet for himself 

“well, dowoon,” you tell him as you’re approaching the section of big dogs, “i hope you enjoy your time here. this is one of the biggest shelters near campus, and fortunately a lot of dogs and cats get adopted every month!” 

your enthusiasm for #adoptdontshop makes dowoon feel excited again, he’s just itching to be back doing what calms him down in a therapeutic sense

you instruct the other members to join in a pair or a trio to assist the shelter coordinators with grooming some of the dogs and going for their scheduled walks

this makes dowoon suddenly panic inwardly again, why does everything have to be done in groups?

“want to come with me?” you ask him in the middle of his inner monologue. you’re met with a look of surprise similar to how he reacted when you called out his name just a few minutes prior

“me? you’re not partnering with anyone else?” you shake your head, “as you can tell, they’ve already made up their minds. you’re one of the only new people i saw come to our event today, so i’ll be glad to show you around!” and you genuinely are. it’s rare to see a newbie look so obviously excited to be here, let alone by themselves

usually the people you’ve come to know who join your events are just there for the instagram stories or a pseudo-date of some sorts. you’re happy they’re helping out the shelter with taking care of the pets even for a few hours in the day, but their intentions lie far and beyond with what you have in mind joining the org

however, having approached dowoon and giving him your usual spiel on your love for dogs— he was actually listening and nodding along to the right moments!!! it was so refreshing, especially with the way he’s just excitedly tapping his feet right now awaiting where you’ll lead him next 

“oh, let’s hang out with lady! she’s actually going to be adopted soon, but i want you to meet her,” you lead dowoon to one of the bigger stalls on the right where lady was. you call out to her, and immediately you see a tail of a fawn colored pitbull sway back and forth

she comes near you first, sniffing and licking at your petting hands. lady senses dowoon standing idly by your side, and you’re about to tell him how to approach the dog when dowoon does it for himself

he bends down to her level, lifts up a loosely closed fist and lets lady smell her first. “hi lady, nice to meet you. my name is dowoon,” he coos at her, finally lady lets him in her space as her tail wags even faster

“that’s amazing,” you point out, “we had a really hard time teaching her to trust new people” 

dowoon shrugs, grinning while he’s at it and you can tell how modest he’s trying to be. but the way he’s rubbing lady’s belly and chuckling at her snorts make you believe that dowoon knows what he’s doing. and he’s enjoying it to the fullest 

“thank you for trusting me, miss lady,” dowoon tells the dog who has completely fallen in love with him too. you just watch him, in awe of the scene before you until dowoon looks your way

he catches you having a weird, goofy smile and so you fake cough your way as an excuse and tuck a hair beneath your ear. “does she need to go for a walk?” he asks you, tone inquisitive and hands busy petting lady much to her delight

“we can, y-yeah,” you find yourself a little out of breath, so out of the ordinary for you. but you comply to his wish and ask the coordinator for lady’s leash and the record book. 

and that’s kinda how you and dowoon started hanging out a lot on the weekends. after that first event you met him, you’re quick to tell him about the incoming ones the org has for the following weeks (albeit some were supposed to be a secret, you couldn’t resist) and that you’ll be really happy if he came

for the pets, of course

dowoon had informed you that he’s trying to join a band on campus, so he might not be at every event you described. although he’ll do his best, for all the other dogs and cats he hasn’t met yet. you become curious about the guy, but not enough confidence to ask about this band or anything other than his love for animals

so for the next few weeks of the semester, whenever you get to lead an event you’re always looking for a shy boy in the crowd. and 80% of the time, dowoon comes through

there are instances when the other board members ask you to proceed with a diff group or a diff task, and before they can sweep dowoon away from your group…

“ah, actually he’s interested in becoming my intern, so i think it’s best to keep him under my wing!”

“we’re doing interns??? now?? i thought we canceled that—”

“he’s just interested, nothing too serious or finalized but yep— ah, dowoon, over here!” 

what a save, and gladly dowoon didn’t hear

he’s actually formed a few acquaintances within the returning members, and it makes you proud to see him come out of his shell a lil

even if you don’t know much about him yet, just his major and the band he’s trying out for (which is looking very good, in his terms) as long as dowoon voluntarily wants to attend the events, it’s a success to you

“who are we meeting today chief?” dowoon would tease you once the event has started, and it’s becoming a running theme in your guys’ greetings

hmm, you decide, major,” is what you’d call him (as you squeal and squirm involuntarily inside) “bathing ole’ mister winston or trying to teach tiny toffee how to sit and stay for more than two seconds?” 

dowoon visibly shudders, remembering the time the english mastiff mister winston slobbered him so much as a form of thanks for keeping him squeaky clean, and you basically laughed at his face for 15 seconds straight

“let’s teach toffee some tricks today,” he relents as you already knew the answer but wanted to see reactions of his flashbacks 

you’re not sure if any one of the board members have noticed your particular liking to dowoon. if they did no one said a word because the whole point of the organization is

to have fun with animals and prepare them well for their furr-ever home, which is what you and dowoon love doing together. there’s a kind of synergy that you feel being with dowoon and working with one dog

dowoon knows more techniques on how to calm down anxious dogs than you’ve ever learned being in the org

you have to admit sometimes you’re still skittish, jumping from loud sounds or yelping in response to mister winston pawing at you (and his paws are bigger than your face) 

or maybe it’s the fact that dowoon is there teasing you instead, intentionally hiding from you when you need a helping hand only to return with a handful of kittens in his embrace. “sorry, they were calling out to me and i couldn’t resist.” 

you’d roll your eyes and attempt to get upset, but the way his own shines and his shy giggle coming out of him when the kittens fight their way to nuzzle against his cheek— it’s harder than you thought

anyway, you tell yourself that you’re keeping dowoon by your side because the two of you learn a lot together, and the back and forth coordination you have with tougher to care for dogs makes the job easier, it’s really that. it really is

or maybe it’s more… because as the weeks go by and dowoon couldn’t come round the shelter on the weekends, he asks if you want to see him practice with the band he’s joined

unfortunately, a lot of the times clash with your events or other school related activities, so dowoon insists on sending you videos of him playing the drums

it was a wild ride of messages, to be honest, because at first the camera would just be showing the ceiling, and then it would be recording his shoes, then just the surface of a drum until the vibrations shake it off of wherever dowoon was putting his phone against

nevertheless, you’d listen to how he plays the instrument he truly loves, and it was another side of him that got you feeling enamored 

the day has come that there was no event at the shelter, and dowoon alongside other day6 members were having a busking session on campus grounds

“i’ll record you this time, dowoon, you don’t have to rely on faulty angles and physics anymore,” you tell him minutes before the gig started. you’ve seen dowoon give off a positive, excited aura in the shelter, but being with his bandmates and sitting in front of his drums— you’re observing a different side of him

and it’s addicting. to watch

“oh, guys by the way, she’s the one i was telling you all about,” you hear dowoon tell his members while you stand on the side. a question mark pops in your head, what does he mean by that???

soon after, everyone introduces themselves to you and shakes your hand. and you’re stunned, having known their names before (courtesy of dowoon) but not really associating a face with it 

“you didn’t tell me your friends are good looking,” you tease dowoon, “you’re hanging out with the right crowd,” you add, poking him on the side to watch his reaction

and you get what you wanted, ears blushing and hands shoving you away playfully 

around you, a crowd has started forming and you notice people from the org watching on the sidelines too

posters fill up the air with names of the members— and even dowoon

huh, why does that hurt a little inside (maybe you should have made a poster too? you glance at dowoon to see him gazing upon the cheers of the crowd and perhaps his name in sharpie, enclosed in hearts by his supporters)

that hurt a little more too

you shake away the weird feeling, and remind yourself that you’re here to record him for the first time, and to listen to him play live

when they finally begun their performance, you became more speechless than you thought. you’ve gone to indie music gatherings before and have watched a couple of up and coming bands do their thing

but day6 is something else— and most especially, you know the drummer

the ones those girls behind you are screaming your ear off for 

he’s a god with the drums, eyes closed in parts that require careful and soft beats but you see the fiery look in them once the song comes up to its peak 

it was thrilling, it was a sight to behold. dowoon in his other element, another side of dowoon you’d love to get to know more of

you resist from screaming his name so that your recording doesn’t sound ugly (you’re sending it to him after all), but that doesn’t mean your heart isn’t beating as loud as the rhythm of his drums 

a few times during the performance, you catch him looking at your direction, but you’re not sure so you just raise a thumbs up with one hand while the other holding your phone feels strained as they go on

it’s ok, it’s all for dowoon

an hour later, their set ended with a bang and girls and guys alike flock to the members to get a poster signed or something else of theirs (dowoon had already given you a pre-signed poster. friendship benefits?) 

you didn’t want to leave without congratulating him for a very successful first gig, so you sit by the benches. a little farther away from the platform where they performed to give yourself fresh air, and understand why your heart continues to pound so hard and so fast

and the cheers for dowoon’s name playing back in your mind

it’s the after show adrenaline, you tell yourself, rewinding the footage you recorded to pass the time

your mistake since it was all just dowoon

there were times when you “accidentally” zoomed it in his face, and kept it there. for minutes on end

god why does he smile like that, stop you’re hurting my HEART

“someone’s a fan,” a low, litling voice creeps up behind you

and your first instinct is to punch the invader of your personal space

which you did (albeit not as strongly as you wanted) but when realizing who received said punch…

“dowoon holy shit WHY WOULD YOU GO BEHIND ME LIKE THAT” 

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOUR REACTION WOULD BE SO VIOLENT”

so uh, there you suddenly are

in the college’s nurse office

with the drummer of what seems to be a rising band on campus, dowoon

getting his bloody nose (literally) checked out, and asking him serious questions without you in the room

“did she really think i’d punch you like that???”

“i think it was really nice of her to look out for me, you know,” dowoon smirked, and the two of you had already come out of the office and you were ready to actually punch him for real this time

but you decline your desires because you still feel a bit guilty 

a part of you knew it was dowoon, the voice was a dead giveaway, but you’re “logical reasoning” says you didn’t want him, nor anyone, to see you admiring his face on video. playing it on loop 

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, cringing at the turn of events tonight “can you still make it to the band’s after dinner party? can you still eat with your nose like that?”

“you’re so weird,” dowoon replies, pinching the bridge of his nose as he elicits a short “ow” of pain, and you can’t help but feel so terrible

“ughhhhhh dowoon pls say i didn’t break your nose or else your fangirls will hate me”

“what” 

“you heard me don’t make me say it again”

“say what again :)” at this point he’s just messing with you, his nose doesn’t look crooked anyway and he definitely knows there were girls fawning over him!!

“c’mon, i’ll pay for the uber to take you to the restaurant,” you urge, it’s the least you can do for physically hurting the person who seems to be confusing you what draws the line between being a friend and… potentially liking them more than that 

dowoon doesn’t respond, just shakes his head no and walks alongside you

“what do you mean no???” you’re baffled, why would he decline such a good offer?? 

“no i’m not going to the dinner, it’s fine i get to see them every day,” he reasons out. he stretches his arms and evokes a yawn. “besides i’m pretty beat from the gig, so i’m just gonna crash back at the dorm”

you’re not convinced, what if he’s just pretending to be sleepy so he doesn’t bother you anymore? biting your lip, you contemplate on persuading him to go but buying his dinner (you’re not sure how that will work) until he stops in his tracks and

pinches your cheeks

to stop you from thinking as your eyes land on his

dowoon huffs, eyebrows creased with concern as he says, “you look like one of the dogs we fed last week who wanted more food in his bowl, but he doesn’t know he’s on a diet.” 

he.. really compared u… to a dog???? 

“what do you mean by that,” you counter, cheeks heating up from the sensation of his fingers pinching at them. not too painful, but enough to consciously feel the pressure of his touch on your face

not to mention his focus is all on you

“you’re upset because i won’t give in to your apology gift,” he explains further. “but really, i’m fine. you didn’t break any bones, and you aimed for my nose. if it were my hands that got hurt then it’ll be a different story”

you groan outwardly, not knowing how to best him out of his logic

“c’mon the bus is coming soon, let’s call it a night,” he says, releasing your cheeks from his grasp and instead, tugging at your hand to follow his lead this time

you don’t let it go

once you enter the bus, dowoon finds an empty two seater and slides right in by the window seat, patting the one next to him. you reluctantly take the spot, still reeling from the way he held your hand so effortlessly, still confused about how you feel about him, still wanting to make it up to him

“is there an event tomorrow?” dowoon asks, escaping you out of your reverie. you churn your brain to think as this is a good opportunity to divert your attention somewhere else

“i believe so. i’m not leading the event, but it’s basically adoption day at the shelter. did you want to come?”

“of course, if you are”

“oh,” that caught you off guard… he can always come to events even if you aren’t, he’s a member now and he’s good friends with the other board members…

“if you’re not, then are you busy doing something?” he yawns again, eyes becoming droopier by the minute as the bus takes it leave

“not really… we can go… together,” you attempt to string coherent sentences together, but the sight of dowoon dozing off at the electric hum while the bus moves entrances you

his pale soft skin contrasts the tiredness in his voice, trying to keep himself away by answering you

“mm. yeah, i’d like to go with you...anywhere… with you,” he starts mumbling, head dangerously close to colliding against the window

silently, you chuckle. and admire the hardworking effort you’ve seen dowoon achieve so far, it makes you momentarily forget about figuring out your feelings

cause it’s kinda obvious with the way you’re seeing him right now, usually you’d tease him, take a picture for blackmail or even feel slightly awkward sitting in the bus next to each other

but right now, you admire him. and wish you can talk to him more about the band, about his dreams, about going to events “as long as it’s with you”

you hear him continuously mumble string of phrases that are incomprehensible at this point, and instead of making fun of the guy (you’ve done enough damage to his nose), you gently tell him, “sleep, dowoon. i’ll wake you up when your stop is here.”

“mmkay,” he gives in, breathes out heavily and

leans against you

resting his head on your shoulder, even making himself more comfy by nuzzling his cheek by the junction of your neck

in a way it sets your heart aflame

but on the outside, you feel at ease. that he can easily take the hit with his nose just mere moments ago and willingly let his head, and his mind rest for a little right by your side

you don’t have to wonder about your feelings anymore

you’d want this to happen more in the future, and hopefully

you’re just wishing upon a star here, that dowoon feels the same

[sdottkrames]

Can We Get Back To Science? (Please)

@comfortember Prompt 11: PTSD

Summary: My rewrite of that Iron Man 3 end credit scene where Bruce falls asleep and insists he’s “not that kind of Dr.”

Notes:  I honestly thought this scene was funny at first, but then the more I thought about it and the more I came in contact with people who struggle like Tony, the more it REALLY bothered me. I would never fall asleep when someone, let alone a friend, is bearing their heart to me. Both Tony and Bruce deserved so much better. 

Trigger Warnings: thoughts/talk of suicide. It’s not terribly detailed, but please, please be safe!

Read on AO3: Here

“A famous man once said ‘we create our own demons.’ Who said that, what does that even mean? Doesn't matter, I said it cause he said it. So, he was famous, and now it’s basically getting said by two well known guys. I don't, uh,” Tony sighed, realizing he was going off on a tangent. “I'm gonna start again. Let's track this from the beginning.”

Tony wasn’t really sure what had prompted him to call up Bruce in the first place. 

Maybe it was the fact that Pepper had used the term Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and after researching it until 4 AM one night, he’d been forced to begrudgingly admit she might be right, and all the sources he’d read said to get therapy for it.

Or maybe it was because after confiding in Pepper, he had finally felt some measure of freedom. The burden he’d been carrying for months lifted ever so slightly off his back, as if he’d given some of it to Pepper in the course of that conversation. But of course, he didn’t want to go to just anybody. He needed someone else he trusted completely, like Pepper but more...doctor.

Perhaps it was the memory of Bruce admitting his experiences trying to take his own life that made Tony think of him. After all, the only thing that had kept Tony doing the same thing was the hope his friends would live if he stayed alive to protect them. His life meant nothing. He’d gladly give it up if it meant they would be okay; they’d all probably be better off without him, anyway. Bruce, he thought, he hoped, would understand.

Whatever the reason, he had called, and Bruce had come. So he started from the beginning. He laid it all on the line, sparing no detail. It was surprisingly liberating, and the more he talked, the better he felt.

“So, if I were to wrap this up, tie it with a bow, or whatever,” Tony said finally, “I guess I'd say my armor...it was never a distraction, or a hobby. It was a cocoon. And now, I'm a changed man. You can take away my house, all my tricks and toys. One thing you can't take away...I am Iron Man.” A thrill went through him at the thought. When he’d first become Iron Man, he’d thought he knew who he was, what he was meant to do. That person had been wrenched apart, tugged and twisted and molded into something completely different. Now he knew that new person. He felt lighter than he had in months. “Thank you by the way. For listening. Plus, something about just getting it off my chest, and putting it out there in the atmosphere, instead of holding this in. I mean, this is what gets people sick, you know. Wow, I had no idea you were such a good listener. To be able to share all my intimate thoughts and my experiences with someone, it just cuts the weight of it in half, you know. It's like a snake swallowing its own tail. Everything comes full circle. And the fact that you've been able to help me process...” He trailed off at the look on Bruce’s face. “What?”

For his part, Bruce was shocked. Tony had always been so flippant and confident, he had never imagined that his friend would understand the thoughts that he himself had struggled with for so long. The thoughts that could sweep a person off their feet, carrying them down the river of self loathing, slowly suffocating them. Bruce had nearly drowned, but when he found it wasn’t possible, he’d been forced to learn to swim. It seemed Tony needed to learn as well.

“I’m sorry. I’m not that kind of doctor,” Bruce said, his eyes full of apology. “I’m not a therapist. It’s not in my training.”

“So,” Tony scoffed. It didn’t matter to him that his friend had no degree in psychology. He didn’t have a degree in thermonuclear astrophysics when he’d started working with the Avengers, yet he’d still been able to help.

“I don’t have the-”

“What? The time?” Tony couldn’t quite hide the hurt. He knew he’d talked too long. His cheeks burned and he began reconstructing the walls he’d started to break down. He’d talked for too long, got wrapped up in himself. As usual.

“The qualifications,” Bruce corrected gently, stopping Tony’s thoughts from spiraling further. “You need more than I can give you. You have PTSD, Tony. You should see a certified professional.”

“Oh.”

“But I am your friend, and I can always listen.” Bruce’s voice was incredibly gentle and oh so genuine. “I’m really glad you called.” Tony felt his momentary panic subside.

“Thanks for picking up.”

“Any time.” Bruce hesitated, seeming to choose his words carefully. “Tony, you know I would care if you were gone, right?”

Tony looked down as he blinked back tears, trying desperately to save face. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Of course.”

“I mean it, Tony. I know those thoughts. I’ve had those thoughts. I know how real and powerful and persuasive they can be. But I would care if you were gone.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Tony said, took a steadying breath, trying to force the mutinous tears back in line.

Bruce understood Tony’s discomfort. He cleared his throat. “Do you want to go work in the lab or something?”

Relief flooded Tony at the change in topic. Science was familiar, easy. He slid off the chair he’d been sitting on. “Please.”

He led the way to the lab, and they fell into a companionable silence. It was comfortable. They understood each other.

Later that night after Bruce had gone to bed, Tony was cleaning up before JARVIS turned power in the lab off (part of a “Lights Out” protocol Pepper had created to make sure Tony got sleep). He paused as he noticed a piece of paper on his desk that he definitely hadn’t put there.

Tony,

Please call me any time you need to talk, and I mean ANY time. I’m always here. And I meant what I said earlier. I would care if you were gone. My life wouldn’t be the same without you. You deserve to live. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, alright? Including yourself.

-Bruce

With nobody there to hide from, Tony let out a ragged breath as tears began coursing down his cheeks. However, these tears did not hold the sharp sting of self doubt and loathing. These tears were warm with gratitude and relief. 

He wasn’t alone.