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jeonqqin · 4 years

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man up. [m] | pt. 6

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: language, eventual smut, heated kissing, minor groping, a wee bit of angst

A/N: sorry this one was late... like all the others. but hey you can’t blame me for trying lmao

▸ request

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

—UNEDITED

Your head began to spin as your eyes dropped to the text sent to you, the number attached to a name that you least expected. You would never admit to how fast your heart pulsed in your chest as you skimmed the words over and over. Had Jisung said anything to her about what happened?

Was she upset with you for sending her precious boyfriend into a panic attack?

Maybe you were walking straight into a bear trap but you couldn’t bring yourself to decline or ignore her message. The guilt of hurting Jisung was too fresh, so you had a hard time doing anything against him—and in a way, ignoring Hyunae’s messages was just that. You just hoped it wasn’t an elaborate set up where she jumped you and scratched your throat out with her excessively polished fingernails. But even if she did, it was pretty fair to say that you deserved it.

So after your first class, you were able to hop on the bus for a quick trip to Haven, the thought of your next class lodged in the back of your mind. After the incident in Minho’s apartment, you hadn’t stepped a foot back inside. Granted it had only been twelve hours at the most, but it felt like days when it seemed like everyone was mad at you. Word of what happened traveled fast, and despite no one in your group of friends asking you about it specifically, you knew that they knew. You suspected that Changbin was the culprit, but you really couldn’t blame him. He didn’t exactly know the extent of the situation.

But it was hard when even Felix seemed hesitant to talk to you.

Chan was still there to text you every hour, even after you explained most of the situation to him. But he remained understanding and sweet.

As he was all the time.

When you walked into the diner, a burst of warmth enveloped you and your nose turned up at the scent of comfort food and coffee. It was nice, and eased some of the tension in your muscles.

Hyunae sat along the inside booths where most of the diners traffic was, close enough to the door that you could run if you needed to. She had her eyes cast down on her phone and your arrival hadn’t been noticed—you could’ve turned around and left then and there, ending all of your messy doubts and fears for the day. But you couldn’t. Your feet continued forward without your consent, dragging you those last final inches to her table.

With the new presence, she looked up.

Hyunae’s eyes widened for a second, darting over your form as if to double check that you were really there.

“I kind of didn’t think you were going to come.” She exhaled a small laugh, motioning towards the other side of the table where a still hot cup of coffee sat.

You took the cup in your cold hands, “Thanks…”

You didn’t know what to say—the ball was in her park and she was in control of where things headed.

She sighed, leaning back against the booth, her pretty skin flushed with the nip of the air. “I’ll just cut to the chase… I wanted to apologize for what I did—for everything that I did. I’ve been a bitch for a while, and I only realized it now.”

With her avoiding eye contact, you could openly gape at her confession, because—what?

The Hyunae was apologizing to you?

“I don’t—I don’t really understand why you’re suddenly apologizing.” You said, voice hoarse.

Hyunae tugged her sweater closer to her form, arms curling around her waist as someone else walked through the door, sending a blast of cold air through the diner.

“You know, for being a complete bitch to you while Ji and I were dating. It was all a jealousy thing to be completely honest. I didn’t actually—”

You blinked, waving your hand out to stop her rambling. You weren’t sure that you could process the first half of her words, let alone the endless ramble that she was capable of spewing.

“Are…” you swallowed. “Are you guys not together?”

She frowned, brows furrowed.

“Jisung broke up with me, Y/n. Did he not tell you?”

The scratch of a broken record echoed through your head as you nearly dropped the ceramic cup of coffee all over yourself.

“What?”

She nodded slowly, “I thought you would be the first person he told, considering…”

“Considering what?”

Her briefness and dodging was only making you frustrated, your hand waving in front of her face to finally gain her eyes. You had no idea that Jisung broke up with her, and you had no idea why. Some part of you hoped that the reason had something to do with you, but you just pushed that load of feelings away. It wasn’t fair to think of such things while the girl who had recently been broken up with sat directly in front of you.

You really were a god awful person.

She laughed a little, her eyes taking in your complete disbelief.

“Well I’ll be damned. You two really are perfect for each other, huh?”

Before you could ask exactly what that was supposed to mean, you watched as her cheeks flushed a bright red—this time not at the fault of the air. Again she laughed, all humor aside, and her hands lifted to her face as tears leaked from her eyes.

“God,” she sniffed, frantically moving to wipe her face with her sleeve. “You both really suck.”

You leaned forward awkwardly, passing her a napkin from the holder with a small tilt of your head. “I’ve come to realize that recently.”

She gave you a look that read, “don’t agree with me” and it managed to pull a laugh from your own throat. Hyunae might’ve been a little bit of a bitch, but it wasn’t without reason. She was insecure and jealous and those two things are away at someone like a virus. It was almost impossible to not feel such things at your age.

You always forgot that you were barely out of high school, the years of petty emotions and fake relationships hadn’t quite yet been erased from your minds. You were all in the same boat.

Just trying to learn along the way.

“You know what’s funny…” Hyunae smiled, her eyes wet. “I always kind of routed for you two. I didn’t really know it, but it was always in the back of my head.”

You felt your lip wobble, but you bit it down, clenching your jaw. There was no way in hell that you were going to cry. You weren’t going to do that—you had no reason to. Hyunae was the one who just lost her boyfriend, and she was the only one who was supposed to be sad.

“Every time you and him were together it just looked so right. I don’t know…” She swiped her hair over her shoulder with a sigh. “I honestly couldn’t believe it when he asked me to be his girlfriend, I thought you two had been a thing for a while—” right, you nearly forgot about the time when Hyunae was simply a friend. “—but then he came bounding up with a goofy smile on his face and that was it. It was over.”

Hyunae and Jisung had some math class together back in high school, he didn’t tell you much about her, but you knew enough to think she was a decent person. Back in those days, Hyunae was much different; sporting a thick pair of glasses and dark hair. But still just as gorgeous, as everyone with two eyes could see.

She followed Jisung around like a lost puppy, and even had to be shooed away by Minho a few times. You were just glad that she listened, since Minho’s temper had been much worse then. You didn’t remember the details but you did remember the day that Jisung jumped back to your house with a big smile and flushed cheeks. It was a time when you were still an angsty teenager and listened to terrible love songs when you were in emotional distress. So that news was a real punch in the face.

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what else to say, she wasn’t exactly your friend, so you didn’t know how to take in and process the information that she just threw at you.

Hyunae shook her head.

“Don’t be sorry. I had a feeling before that it was going to happen sooner or later. Who knew it was going to be so much later?”

You sent her a small smile. She wasn’t half bad when she wasn’t completely ignoring your existence and sending murderous glances your way.

The waiter rounded up to your table—unfortunately, not Jeongin—and proceeded to ask you what you wanted to order. After Hyunae promised to pay for your meal as well, the two of you talked for what seemed to be hours. You didn’t talk about anything at all—going on about classes and professors that you couldn’t stand. Your mind was clear for the first time in weeks and it was beyond refreshing to talk to her about things that only another girl would understand. Being around boys every day of your life had taken a toll on you and you hadn’t realized it until you were laughing as Hyunae ranted about how obviously sexist your communications professor was.

You could be yourself around the boys, of course. But with her, you could be someone you hadn’t been in a long time.

With a fry between her fingers, she hummed, leaning her chin on her hand.

It was only a matter of time before she reverted to what she came to talk to you about, and you tried your hardest to redirect the conversation each time it looked like it was going to be lead down that spiral of absolute hell—

“I think you guys would be cute together.”

You deadpanned, flicking your empty straw wrapper in her direction.

“Are we really talking about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named right now?” You quirked a brow, not at all happy with the way she snickered at your question.

“If it makes you feel better, Y/n… I think I’ve had feelings for Hyunjin for a long time as well.”

“Oh yeah, my guilt is cured.”

She nearly snorted her water, sputtering a little bit around her mouthful. You took a bit of pride in that.

“I actually missed your sarcasm, believe it or not.”

Sighing, you threw all of your remaining trash onto one plate, your belly finally full and happy. “Wow, you actually remember when we didn’t hate each other?”

“You really hated me?”

“A little bit. Your whole lovey-dovey act was a bit sickening.” You shrugged.

“Because you’re in love with Ji?”

You froze immediately.

Hyunae couldn’t just drop it? Her constant mention of Jisung was really putting a damper on your mood, and the itch of fight or flight was really beginning to kick in once again.

And to think things were going so well.

“No,” you said, shaking your head quickly. “No no, I have a boyfriend. Sort of... I’m not in love with anyone—”

“Y/n, look at me. Please,” she reached over the table to tap your chin with her pretty manicured finger, her face pulling into a soft smile. “Darling, it’s been almost two years since we graduated high school, and nothing has changed between the two of you since then. Even while you were dating other people. He still looks at you like you hung the damn stars and you still blush whenever he calls you those stupid little pet names he has for you. You’re both whipped.”

Your face softened under her stare. Her words hit a cord inside of your chest, but it was just something that made your head hurt when you thought about it. You didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it.

“Jisung and I have only ever been friends. Yes, we’ve been good friends for a long time, but he has never told me anything about liking me. If he can’t tell me something as simple as this then I don’t think I can—”

Suddenly her eyes were hard set, piecing fiercely into yours. It stopped you in your tracks immediately.

“Don’t make me get any more upset with you, okay?”

Hyunae was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

“Listen,” She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. “Jisung is the best guy I’ve ever dated and that probably won’t ever change. I want him to be happy, and I want you to be happy too. So please just think about things. I’m here telling you that this boy is head over heels in love with you—that he has been for years. His fault here is the fact that he’s so oblivious to his own feelings that he can’t see yours. He just—” her hands flailed in front of her, searching for her next words. “—doesn’t know how.”

You sighed. “I always liked Jisung when I was a kid. Hell, even earlier this year I could turn to you and say—yes, I am in love with Han Jisung.”

Hyunae blinked.

“But who the hell am I to say that I’m in love with someone? I’m not—I’m definitely not.” You sighed, mind wandering back to when things barely crossed your mind for longer than a minute. Things had been tossed around so lightly. “It was frustrating because it was so easy to like him when I was young. There wasn’t this huge word hanging over my head like there is now.”

Hyunae pushes her empty plate to join yours, speaking without a care. “You know that you don’t have to love him, right? You could simply like him.”

You felt the weight behind what she was saying in your chest, you didn’t have to label what you felt for him if you still weren’t sure. The only problem with that was that you knew what you felt for Jisung, and it was stupid. Because how could you look at someone and know how you felt when you hadn’t even seen every side of them?

You couldn’t remember when he had last been serious with you. Never once had he looked at you with the eyes of an adult and told you about his inner thoughts. That wasn’t who Jisung was, he avoided those thoughts.

He was only ever happy around you, and whether that was a good or a bad thing, you had no idea.

“Was Jisung ever serious with you?”

Hyunae was momentarily stunned by your out of place question but she recovered with a small hum. “Well, a little bit. Whenever he was upset or tired he’d get a little snippy, but serious? I’m not really sure.”

That was just how Jisung was.

“Huh…”

“Oh,” she chirped suddenly, her lead raising as if she remembered something. “There was a moment when he was always serious.”

Your head quirked to the side in question, eyes wide with curiosity. Despite knowing him for years, there was still plenty of unknowns to Han Jisung, and you were curious to know more.

“What is it?”

Hyunae’s mouth opened for a moment, then closed. Many things flashed over her face at once, but it was safe to assume that she was rethinking her words. Your chest fell.

Her eyes darted away from yours, guilt flashing over her features. “I don’t think I can tell you that.”

“Not fair,” frowning, you pouted. “That’s the worst cliffhanger ever.”

She tisked, small smile pulling to her lips. “Well,” she shrugged. “You could always move forward to find out.”

She was right, you could.

There were many things you had to move forward with, many people you had to have a conversation with; Jisung definitely being one of them. With a mental list of all the people that you had questions and answers for, everything only just began to clear themselves up. It was small, but it was something. Your head was always busy anyway, having things clearing out was like a breath of fresh air that you could barely reach.

But it was still something.

“You’re right. I think I just have to start with someone else.”

Hyunae smiled, “Get on with it then. Hurry your ass out of here.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting this,”

Maybe you shouldn’t have listened to Hyunae.

Your heart was pounding radically in your chest as you sat straight as a board on the spinning office chair of the notorious recording room. You hadn’t seen it since that day it all began—honestly it had seemed so long ago. The room was cleaned up and organized, all the wires neatly tucked into the back instead of sprawled all over the floor, and you found yourself focusing more on that than the person in front of you.

You almost had to force yourself to your chair, everything feeling way too heavy for your liking.

“What do you mean?”

Chan ran a hand through his messy curls. It was only a few days ago that you had wanted to run your own fingers through his dark hair.

“You and Jisung aren’t very subtle, but uh, I was just hoping you could like me—” he paused for a moment, filing through his mind for the right words. “—as well, I guess.”

“Oh…”

“Hey, it’s fine. Jisung’s a good guy, you guys will be good together.”

Had you stepped into a parallel universe where every ex was supportive instead of filled with rage?

“But—well, I don’t even know if we are going to end up together or anything like that. My head has just been all over the place lately and I definitely never intended to drag you into this mess. I feel awful, god I’m a terrible person, aren’t I—?”

“Y/n.” Chan said, voice firm.

Your cheeks heated at the realization of your otherwise embarrassing ramble.

“Sorry…” You squeaked.

Chan sighed, leaning more weight against his desk. “Don’t be sorry. I just don’t want you freaking out here. You need to know that I’m an adult too, none of this is all your fault.”

You froze for a moment—one stupid moment just looking into Chan’s pretty brown eyes and realizing how weak they made you feel.

Chan’s mouth curled into a sympathetic smile as a tear rolled down the apple of your cheek. His hand reached forward to swipe the intact droplet with his pointer finger, and a small giggle rippled through his chest.

“God—Don’t cry, stupid,” he suddenly brushed his hand over your face, an attempt to raise your spirits to the very end. “You’re making me feel bad.”

“I hate you…” You sniffed, swatting his hand away with a quiet sob.

As his finger ran over your wet cheek to collect the little drops that leaked down, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry so you did both, once again crumbling under his touch.

“Hey,” he smiled. “You can’t hate me. I should be the one hating you.”

Your lip jutted out into a pout, one that he wanted so badly to kiss from your lips.

“Then we can hate each other.”

Chan hummed, watching as your jaw clenched in an attempt to keep your emotions from falling down your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see just how conflicted you were, he knew that much.

“Okay. We can do that.”

And he leaned down to place a soft kiss to the top of your head, careful of the affection he gave you.

But it only made your stupid heart hiccup in your chest, opposed to the way it would’ve raced had it only been days prior.

With Jisung it was warmth that spread over your body, but with Chan it was like floating in a pool of water with all your clothes on; encasing and safe and just a little sticky.

You were sure if you wanted to chase after the brief relief that Chan brought to you, it was difficult to tell with the way you were trying to find your answers. Was one more chance unfair to Chan? Even after explaining your inner (and slightly unknown) thoughts and feelings to him about Jisung, could you still salvage anything if you tried one more time?

“Can I… kiss you please?” You asked, neither looking in his eyes or at his plump lips. You really liked his lips.

Chan smiled, eyes darting down to your little pout. He liked your lips too.

“You want to?”

You hummed, a small nod to tell him that you were too embarrassed to confirm his words with those of your own. But Chan was understanding and patient. He didn’t push you to do anything as Jisung did—Chan was so perfect, why the hell did you think about Han Jisung?

What was wrong with you?

You didn’t want to answer that question. You wanted it all to go away—the fear, the confusion, everything. And the way Chan was looking at you made you feel it all simmer down to nothing. His eyes were so soft.

You were backpedaling, you knew that. But it was hard not to when Chan felt so safe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His lips quirked up.

You felt bad for not liking Chan the way you liked Jisung. He was better to love and he showed you everything you had missed before. He held you when you were sad, cooed into your ear that everything was going to be alright when it was him who was taking the loss. Why did he do that?

Leaning forward, you all but collapsed into his embrace, finally feeling his soft lips again.

One thing you loved about Chan was his arms. You loved how they felt around you, and how strong they were. A lot of people liked his arms for those reasons too, you supposed. He may have been your first, but you certainly weren’t his.

How long were you going to go back and forth?

Reassurance was what you had with Chan, but with Jisung there was time. You took your time with him unknowingly, watching him with your brother as they played video games in Minho’s room. You were yelled at, pushed, and locked out, but you still got back up and pushed back. As uncool of a sister you were back then, you persisted.

Minho and Jisung would tease you and pick on you all they wanted, but you were still there at the end of the day. Tear stained cheeks and dirty clothes, and you were still there carrying your silly crush on your big brother’s best friend.

There was time spent building something to stand on, years of pining and banter lead to a feeling that you couldn’t just replace with a kind heart and a kiss.

No matter how nice the lips you kissed were.

Chan knew this too. He knew you were thinking of so many different factors at once, and he was still pulling you tight to him, aware that your kiss would be his last from you. What he felt with you was terrifying.

You both meant to forget.

His arms held you tight, hands respectfully placed on your waist as you pushed and pushed into the embrace. The kiss was all new and too intense, but there was something screaming at you to just keep going.

It grew more heated and your emotions mingled as a small voice began chipping away at the back of your mind; telling you that you didn’t deserve it, that you didn’t deserve him. Even as you found yourself lifting to your knees and straddling his waist, the voice persisted, not even silenced by the soft words that Chan spoke.

“I feel like you’re going to break if I touch you.” He admitted, voice unstable.

You shook your head in a daze, “I won’t, I promise.”

You wanted the thought of Jisung out—the thought of him touching another girl the same way Chan was touching you. Did he hold Hyunae like this? Did he kiss her like she was the most precious thing to him? Was there a chance that he would with you? Did he even want to?

You wanted no part of that thought so you pushed further.

“I’ll be okay, Chan. If it’s you, I’ll be okay.” You murmured.

Chan’s heart thudded in his chest.

And in that moment, he almost forgot that you were in love with someone else.

“Okay, I’ll take care of you.”

You smiled, a small burst of heat running over your cheeks.

“Sap…”

Chan nearly responded with, “but I’m your sap” but he managed to bite his tongue, distracting himself by slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt. His hand was cold but not unwelcome as it felt along your stomach, and for the first time being with Chan your thoughts slipped—his hand was too strong, too rough. It wasn’t soft and pretty like Jisung’s, it wasn’t warm and comfortable like Jisung’s had been around your waist that morning. Chan’s hands were veiny and cold to the touch. Of course ther was nothing wrong with that. But they weren’t Jisung’s.

All it took was one hug from Jisung to stir up your head, huh?

But he had felt so nice against your back, his with but muscular build feeling like it was meant to be there all along. He had hugged you from behind back in high school many times, his chin resting on your shoulder and his breath fanning over your neck. It was hard to focus then, and it had been hard to focus that morning as well. How did you not know it was Jisung?

Sure, he and Chan were similar in height but Jisung just fit differently.

And when his eyes landed on your neck, it had been the feeling of panic that crossed you. You didn’t want Jisung to see you like that—with another man’s markings over your throat.

A sudden thought crossed your mind as Chan slowed his lips journey on your neck…

Was it really Minho that was preventing you from dating?

The look in your brother’s eyes had been one of disappointment, but he hadn’t done anything, and deep down you knew there was no way he would really hurt the person you were in a relationship with. Of course he would scare them away and make it clear that he wasn’t a fan of you dating, but there you were, watching him do it, barely giving your big brother a slap on the wrist—

“Y/n,” Chan called, and you hadn’t even realized that he had taken his mouth off of your shoulder. “Babygirl…”

He tested the name on his tongue.

But his doubts were confirmed as you frowned. The nickname would’ve once sounded like heaven leaving his lips, but now...

He sent you a small smile after studying your features for a moment.

“Do you miss him, right now?”

Your eyes widened at his words—you did.

“No. Of course not,” you said, shaking your head with shaky inhales. “Why are you asking me that?”

There was an internal battle behind Chan’s eyes as he watched your face morph into discomfort. He was a little frustrated.

Chan removed his hand from underneath your shirt.

“If we’re going to be friends, Y/n… I don’t want you to lie to me anymore, okay?”

The shock that his words gave you made your eyes well up. It was like a punch to the gut to hear Chan scold you. He had never done such a thing before and you knew—you knew for sure that you couldn’t keep lying.

When you cried, Chan didn’t wipe away your tears, he simply kept his eyes on yours as his hand rubbed small circles on your back. You needed to cry, and of course Chan knew that.

He was Chan after all.

“I’m so sorry—” you hiccuped, swallowing air as your palms lifted to cover your eyes. “—this sucks. This really really sucks.”

Chan sighed, feeling the sleepless nights catch up to him as he watched you break down. It was the worst feeling. It wasn’t that you were very obviously in love with someone else despite how his own chest aches for you to sink back into him and kiss the tiredness away, no—it was the fact that it was tearing you apart. That was what hurt him the most.

“Go see Ji.”

Chan topped your head up with his finger, leaving one last peck to your tear covered lips.

“He’s probably still upset.”

You nodded, laying your head down on his chest with a shaky sigh. “You’re a good guy, Chan…”

“Yeah, I know.”

688 notes · View notes

skylar102 · 4 years

Note

First of all, congratulations on 400 followers!! That's awesome! You deserve it 💙💙💙 For your prompt opening: I have an angst prompt because, well, you know me. I was thinking that Alec has a hard day with the Downworld Cabinet and Magnus is torn between his fellow Downworlders (who are all telling him Alec is wrong; whether he actually is or not is up to you) and his loyalty to his boyfriend. Angst ensues. Perhaps a bit of crying, if you're feeling adventurous? Thanks! No rush to write it :)

So this turned out more angsty than I planned but hey I’m not gonna complain about that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Warning for self harm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus comes home to a quiet loft. He knows that Alec is here because his bow and quiver are on the rack by the door. There’s no lights coming from the living room and the french doors to his balcony are closed.

“Alexander?” he calls out. There’s no response.

Magnus thinks back to the cabinet meeting he just got back from. While the one that Alec has created is leaps and bounds ahead of anything any other Institute, or Lilith even the Clave, is doing, the Downworld Leaders of New York still wanted to have another with just them.

Judging by how tonight’s meeting went, he can only imagine Alec’s meeting with them. Meliorn, Lorenzo, Maia, and Raphael all hounded him about Alec and his unwillingness to budge on certain topics discussed at the meeting. Of course, being Alec’s boyfriend meant that everyone flocked to him about complaining about the shadowhunter.

Magnus regrets agreeing to accompany Lorenzo to the meeting, but when the High Warlock requests your presence at a cabinet meeting you don’t turn it down. Of course, if he had known it was going to be a shout fest about how his boyfriend is handling the recent downworld disappearances, he would have declined.

While Magnus knows that Alec is working nonstop to find the person causing the disappearances, he understands why the other’s are so upset. Magnus doesn’t believe that Alec insinuated that the person responsible was a downworlder over a shadowhunter. Magnus doesn’t want to accept that was the case, but being against four people in that situation doesn’t hold any power, especially when the said four are fueled with anger.

“Alexander,” he calls out again.

The kitchen is empty, there are no plates in the sink which means Alec has not eaten yet, and knowing how stressful this week has been for Alec also means he probably missed lunch as well. He checks the bedroom and sees everything is where he last saw it when he left that evening.

Magnus is starting to worry. He knows that he tuned the wards to allow Alec to know when he arrives at the loft. Mostly for selfish reasons. Magnus could never say no to welcome home kisses and hugs and Alec excelled at both of those. Coming home to a quiet loft, while is not out of the ordinary, but most of the lights are off save for a few lamps is new.

Magnus starts to move at a faster pace. He checks every room in the loft and turns up empty. He’s about to grab one of Alec’s sweaters when he hears a noise on the roof. A loud thump. A cold dread fills his stomach. Magnus doesn’t stop to guess the sound as he rushes towards the spiral stairs that lead to the roof. He takes two steps at a time to get to the roof faster. A million scenarios filling his mind as he reaches the roof.

He halts before opening the door. If Alec is hurting himself he doesn’t want to bust through the door, scaring his boyfriend. He takes a deep breath to compose himself before he turns the knob. The sight that greets him has his stomach dropping.

After Alec moved in, Magnus didn’t want the noise of workout equipment clunking through the loft, so he compromised with his boyfriend to put it on the roof and magic the patio to block out all types of weather. That way he could work in his apothecary in peace while Alec got in his daily workout. Magnus was more than happy to oblige if it meant that when he took breaks from potion making he got to ogle at his boyfriend.

Magnus wants to burn the equipment to ash at the very moment.

There’s equipment scattered about the roof like it was thrown to the side. Heavy rope is frayed and torn, like someone overused them, and judging by the small red stains on the ends, someone did. Magnus takes his eyes away from the equipment and focuses on Alec.

His boyfriend is going at the free-standing punching bag like it murdered his family. Every jab and kick directed at the bag is loud and painful. Magnus winces at every hit. Alec hasn’t noticed him yet, too focused on destroying the bag in front of him. The blank look on his boyfriend’s face has his heart breaking.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers between hits.

He watches Alec’s head tilt his way but his boyfriend doesn’t stop his attack on the bag. If anything he seems to go harder and faster.

“If you’re here to yell at me too,” Alec pants. “Then just get it over with.”

“Yell at you- Alexander I don’t want to yell at you.” Magnus begins to slowly make his way to Alec, not wanting to upset him further.

“You should.” Alec delivers a particularly hard punch to the bag. “Everyone else did, why not my warlock boyfriend as well? Seems only fair.”

Magnus knows that Alec is in a bad mindset right now, but he still flinches at the words.

“Alexander, you have to know that I would never do that,” Magnus reasons.

“You did once before with the Soul Sword. Why would this be any different.”

Magnus has heard enough. Right as Alec is about to land a right hook, Magnus magics the punching bag away with a swirl of blue sparks. Alec stumbles forward with his momentum but manages to balance himself. His boyfriend’s chest is heaving and he’s covered in sweat. He doesn’t turn to address Magnus, his gaze focused on Brooklyn’s rooftops.

“Alexander please,” Magnus begs.

“What do you want me to say?” Alec demands turning towards Magnus. “That I fucked up? I know I did, I ruined the one good thing I had going for the downworld because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“I'm sure that is not true.”

“I threw out the idea that a downworlder could be responsible for the kidnappings of other downworlders because it hurt watching people I know and trust bash my people and say it was someone under my command,” Alec explains. “I should have kept my mouth shut but I want to explore all possibilities with the cabinet before we jump to conclusions.”

Alec scoffs and begins to pick up the weights on the ground. “Seems that a shadowhunter insinuating the possibility that a downworlder was responsible for this was unimaginable. I was trying to cover all grounds with the investigation, I don’t even have suspects.”

“Alexander you have to understand how that sounds to them,” Magnus tries to justify. Alec stops his movements, his hold on the weight tightens. “For hundreds of years, we’ve had to endure-”

“You think I don’t know that!” Alec turns and shouts at him, making Magnus take a step back. Alec has never shouted at him before. “You think I don’t know how much my people have wronged downworlders? That I don’t think about it every single day what my people have done, what I’ve had to witness with my own eyes? I am well aware of the atrocities my people have committed.”

Alec’s chest is heaving and his hands are clenched tight around the weights in his heads. It’s only now that Magnus realizes that it’s not sweat dripping from Alec’s hands. It's blood.

“Knowing all of that, knowing what my people have done doesn’t mean that I am not going to explore all avenues on this investigation. Maybe I could have worded it differently but I’m not about to just focus on a group of people without any evidence to back it up. That would make me just as bad as the people before me.”

“Alexander,” Magnus interrupts, he can’ take his eyes off Alec’s hands. “Perhaps we should head inside.”

“Why so you can continue to tell me how I fucked up in a place that I call home?” Alec laughs hollowly, he puts the last of the weights back on the rack. “I’d rather sleep at the Institute tonight.”

Alec walks past Magnus. He doesn’t hesitate to grab Alec’s bicep stopping his boyfriend. He knows that if he lets Alec walk through that door, their relationship will never recover from this. Magnus doesn’t want this strain to weigh on them both.

“Alec please, don’t leave,” Magnus pleads, his grip on Alec’s arm tells him how much his boyfriend is trying to hold it together. Alec’s arm is shaking so much that Magnus is surprised he was able to clean up the weights with how bad he’s trembling. “Let’s just, go inside and talk about this.” Magnus reaches for the hand closest to him, magic already sparking at his fingertips. “And let me heal your-”

Flinching at the small touch on his hand, Alec rips his arm away before Magnus can heal it.

“Don’t,” Alec clips hoarsely. “Just don’t.”

Alec starts to move towards the door again, but Magnus is there again before his boyfriend can take another step. This time wrapping Alec in a hug from behind. He locks his hands to his wrists so that Alec can’t pull his arms apart. He feels the stuttering breathes that Alec is taking. Magnus rests his head at the base of Alec’s neck and closes his eyes. It hurts feeling how much Alec is shaking in his arms, how hard Alec is trying to keep it together.

“Darling, please,” Magnus whispers into his boyfriend’s neck. The nickname has a quick sob escaping Alec’s lips. “I know that we are going to have different opinions on this and I know that you are trying your best. Maybe you could have worded things differently, maybe you worded them perfectly and the others were too high strung to listen to reasoning, but please. I don’t want to fight with you and have you leave.”

The shaking has increased and Magnus can feel drops of water hit his arms. Magnus releases the locked grip and moves in front of him. His own eyes start to water at the sight that greets him.

Alec’s face is covered in tears streaks, his lower lip clenched between his teeth to stop sobs from breaking out. Magnus cups his boyfriend’s face and begins to wipe away the tears.

“Why is everything I do not good enough?” Alec quietly sobs out.

That’s all Magnus needs to hear. He pulls his boyfriend into his arms as the sobs get louder. Magnus tucks Alec’s head into his neck as he cries. A hand goes to the back of Alec’s head while the other rubs up and down his boyfriend's back. Magnus feels his shirt tighten as Alec grips it. Magnus quietly rocks them gently back and forth.

“I got you, darling,” Magnus whispers into Alec’s ear.

Magnus’ focus is all on Alec, he doesn’t know how much time has passed as they stand there. He doesn’t stop the embrace, doesn’t pull back. He waits until Alec is the one to let go. Even when Alec does eventually loosen his grip on his shirt, Magnus doesn’t want to let go.

His hands immediately go to Alec’s face again to wipe away the remaining tears on his boyfriend’s face. Alec, clearly exhausted from working out and crying leans into the touch closing his eyes. Alec’s breath still shudders even as the worst of his emotions have passed.

“Alexander,” Magnus sighs. “Can I please heal your hands?”

Alec doesn’t open his eyes when he nods. Magnus releases his head and moves his hands to Alec’s. Gentle blue sparks caress Alec’s hands as Magnus sets about healing them. He watches his magic stitch Alec’s hands back together and clean off any blood. As the last drop disappears, Magnus raises Alec’s hands pressing a kiss to each knuckle.

“Let’s head inside, take a shower and go to bed, hm?” Magnus suggests as Alec stands there with his eyes still closed. Alec shakes his head.

“No, I- I should call the members of the cabinet and apologize,” Alec says.

“That can wait until tomorrow,” Magnus reasons, already pulling Alec towards the door. “I think a night’s rest will do everyone some good. Continuing the conversation when emotions are still high is not going to help anyone.”

“Magnus I can’t just leave it like that, I should-.” Magnus presses a finger to his lips.

“None of that,” Magnus stops. “We are going to go inside, you are going to hop in the shower while I cook up something for you and you will eat it, and then we are going to fall onto the bed with my best linens and I am going to cuddle you until you fall asleep.”

Alec lets out a huff as a small smile appears on his face. Magnus doesn’t remove his finger until Alec nods his head.

“Excellent.” Magnus grips Alec’s arm and pulls him inside.

When they get to the main floor, Magnus shoves Alec towards the show with a stern look, getting a small chuckle out of Alec. Magnus heads to the kitchen and starts preparing a small meal. He doubts that Alec will want anything hearty so he settles for making soup. By the time he pours two bowls, Alec is walking out of their room in sweats and a t-shirt with damp hair.

They eat in silence. Magnus can tell that his boyfriend is not in the mood to talk by his drooping eyes. A yawn breaks past Alec’s lips as he finishes the bowl. Magnus magics the empty bowls to the sink and drags Alec towards their bed. It’s telling how tired his boyfriend is when Magnus just has to give him a light push to get into bed.

Magnus crawls into bed on his side and drags Alec to him. Alec rests his head on Magnus’ chest and melts. Magnus hums a soft song as he feels the tension leave Alec’s body and soon enough small snores fill the room. Magnus kisses the top of his head and reaches to turn off the bedside lamp.

#alec lightwood #magnus bane #malec #angst #shadowhunters #fanfiction #my writing #this was a lot of fun to write #i hope you like it :D

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kenmasgameboy · 4 years

Note

15, 38, 54 or 88 for Kuroo? Maybe fluff to angst??

hi bb!! i hope you like it!!! i really liked this idea. i kinda went off the rails a bit and made it v deep lol i was like “I can do this in blurb form” and then went a lot longer HAHA. hope you like it!!!!!!

15. "Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice.”

38. “I wanna go home.”

54. "The moment I held you… something changed in me.”

88. “Doesn’t it bother you that everyone thinks we’re a couple?”

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You are the infamous Nekoma VBC manager. It had been a long time since there had been a manager before you, but you were happy about it. You’ve always loved volleyball and the guys on the team were really fun, well everyone except Kuroo Tetsuro, the captain.

He was everything you wanted in a partner. His sly cleverness, his dry humor, he’s smart, and the most attractive person you’d ever seen just to make it harder on you. You guys were quick to be comfortable around each other, even in your first year together he was always your favorite person to make quippy conversations with. You never failed to make each other laugh. Your friendship never became a problem until your ex-boyfriend ended your relationship due to your dedication to the volleyball team, accusing you of your closeness to Kuroo as to why.

This happened more frequently than you’d like to admit, everyone thought the two of you were dating. It only became worse as third years, the captain and manager of the volleyball club dating seemed almost as appealing as if he were to date the captain of the girl's team. The thought made your gut twist in an envious spiral. He wasn’t yours, you had come to terms with that recently.

But after you realized that, you realized you thought that because you actually liked him. And now you couldn’t stand to be around him in the slightest. The thought of how he held you after every breakup, after every letdown, after every bad test score, he was always there. And it was the same thing back, always. He could always call you. When he became the captain he made it very clear he trusted your opinion on everything, you’d go with him and Kai to every meeting, be trusted to do the recruitment, be included in the team bondings.

It wasn’t until a few months ago you realized you looked for him in every school assembly, you watched him and took the most game notes for him, you saw things that reminded you of him forcing your cellphone to take a picture and send it to him. And when he was around all you could do was admire him. Even if he was off flirting with someone else. He flirted with other classmates, it bothered you only when people would tell on him to you as if you were his girlfriend. You weren’t.

You huffed a large sigh, taking all the sweat-filled towels in your heavy hamper basket to take to the laundry machine. The only way to fix this was to try and distance yourself. Practice just ended, after everyone was done cleaning up, Tetsuro will ask to walk you home. And you were planning to say no again. You had to stay in this laundry closet sanctuary as long as you could.

“Oi! Y/N-chan, lets go!” Sure enough, as if on cue from your thoughts he appeared in the doorway.

“I’m going to stop by the convenience store actually, sorry Kuroo I don’t wanna hold you and Kenma up. Just head on without me.” You politely declined. You grabbed your bag and tried to leave without a fight.

“That’s fine. I don’t mind walking you.” He said, leaning against the doorframe. You were looking at him from inside.

“I don’t think Kenma’d like the extra exercise.” You tried.

“He probably wouldn’t, too bad he didn’t come to practice today,” Kuroo smirked, he knew he had you cornered. You had no way out but you also knew that being alone with him would be bad for your heart.

“I’m pretty sure he was, I thought I talked to him today.” You said, a confused brow arch and you shifted your weight off to one side.

“Manager, you feeling okay recently? You’ve been acting a little–” He started but you didn’t want to hear it from him.

“I’m fine!” You said, flustered and annoyed you tried to scootch past him but he grabbed your hand, his face getting more serious than it was before.

“Hey, talk to me.” He begged you, a face that could only resemble a puppy dog, “I know you’re avoiding me, so what did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything in particular, Kuroo. I just need my space.” You said, curling your face into an embarrassed expression, “We’ll talk another day. Just for today, I wanna go home.”

“Fine, but I’m walking you home.” He declared, still not letting go of your hand and instead he interlocked your fingers. It wasn’t uncommon for you two to be physically affectionate, in fact holding hands wasn’t even off the table, but interlocking your fingers took the act to another level of intimacy you couldn’t handle from someone you knew didn’t like you in the same way.

“What? No, I told you–” You were tired, you couldn’t let him do this. But he just gripped your hand tighter, scared that you were going to disappear any second.

“Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice. I’m making sure you get home safe.” And there was the nickname. He flirted with you nonstop it drove you mad, at first it was funny but now it drove you insane with the way it made you feel. But he flirted with other girls, there was no way it was special in the way you wanted it to be. You let him take you out the door into the night time but only so you could get a cool breeze to cool the heat of embarrassment on your cheeks.

“Stop it.” You said, not walking anymore you released your fingers and stuck them straight out, “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not my boyfriend, and even if you were–”

“You’re right.” Kuroo released your hand. You weren’t expecting him to react calmly. You had half a mind to run away, but your feet stayed put. You needed to talk about this with him now.

“Doesn’t it bother you that everyone thinks we’re a couple?” You asked it quietly, under your breath almost as you readjusted your posture. But he heard you, loud and clear. It was a question he really didn’t want to address.

He had experienced different things than you, boys would come up to him asking if you two were dating because they wanted to take a shot at you. He always had to say no to that question and each time it crumbled a piece of his heart as he had to watch them approach you. But he had no place to stake his claim. He was fine with just being your friend, but he’s not fine with you ignoring him.

“Yeah.” He said, it was solemn and forced. His back was still facing you. He prepared himself to answer his long-awaited question of how long he would be able to not confess his feelings to you.

“Then we’re in agreement. I think that it’s best if we don’t hang out as often anymore. It’ll give us room to breathe and work better and maybe you can date whoever you want now without them worrying about going through me.” You said, biting back the tears you knew you couldn’t let fall. He finally turned back to you at the last condition.

“I don’t want that.” He said, a large weight being released from his shoulders. “If that’s what you want, fine. I’ll do it. But it doesn’t bother me that everyone thinks we’re a couple because it annoys me. It bothers me because I want it to be real.”

“Tetsuro..” You breathed but it felt like everything had been knocked out of you, “But you– I don’t– I thought you liked someone else.”

“Who else would I actually like? I’ve felt that way since you ran into my arms in our first year after getting a bad chemistry test score that we studied so hard for. It was just– I don’t know. The moment I held you... something changed in me. I should’ve said something sooner, I know that. But you were always dating someone, and if I told you and you didn’t feel the same way I’d never get to hold you again.” He confessed everything to you, every minor detail of his craving for your touch. Kuroo Tetsuro was panicking in front of you, “It’s more than like at this point, I love you and only you Y/N. I can’t let you leave without knowing that. I understand if you still need space–”

“You... idiot.” You can’t leave him like that, after what he said you don’t think anyone could pry you away from him. You let your tears fall, feeling them wet your cheeks and down your chin in happiness. The magnetic force it gave you to run towards him and jump into his arms again.

Your fingers pulled on his neck and he grabbed your thighs to stabilize you around his waist before traveling up your back. His face was surprised, shocked out of his seriousness before he understood without you saying anything.

“Never stop holding me.” You whispered your beg, rushing your head into the crook of his neck, “I love you.”

Kuroo smiled, pulling your hair to bring your face to his. He couldn’t waste any more time. He smashed your face into him, the most passionate kiss you’d ever shared with anyone, he was perfect for you. The way you molded together in every form of the phrase. You could feel him pulling you as close to his body as possible, your hands pushing his shoulders and face into yours.

“Now will you let me walk you home?” He asked when you two had calmed down, foreheads still pressed.

“Yeah, only if I can walk you home after.”

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

5k celebration prompts!

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art-thropologist · 4 years

Text

A Portfolio of Recovery

If you’ve been following my entries, you’ll know that I recently had to go through some medical treatment. I am at a point now where I am willing to share some of the products of the art therapy that went along with that process. With each piece I’ll explain the prompt or the intention behind it and how I interpret the visual cues.

Please note that I will be talking about eating disorder behaviors, body image, and trauma. I use vague terms, but if these are triggering topics, then do not read. If you are in need of help with an ED, NEDA can get you support.

“Timeline” (2019). Color pencil on paper. Prompted.

The only instruction was to create a timeline that represents the development of my body image. Instead of using text I felt more comfortable conveying sentiments through line and color. The horizon line in the center represents the neutral base while rises indicate positive emotions and declines are negative. The timeline is divided into five stages with vertical lines; infancy, lower school, middle school, high school, and college.

The main colors change as my favorite color changed over the periods, but also reflecting other experiences. I began with blues and yellows as a toddler. Open and wide like a shining sky. I was a happy kid. Who didn’t think themselves invincible back then? I first started having issues with self worth during Elementary school. I was picked on for being ‘dumb’, bullied for being too emotional. Most of the time I was told to ignore the bullies. That doesn’t work. So then I was told not to react. That didn’t work either. It just taught me that I was the one causing issues. I began suppressing displays of emotion. I liked myself, but I figured that I was just always going to be someone else’s punching bag.

Middle school was supposed to be a time of growth. You finally become a teenager. In my case, you have a bat mitzvah and are then an adult to the community. Kids were still relentless in bullying. Add in tween hormones and angst, and you have a powder keg. I hit a growth spurt but I didn’t ‘measure up’ to the other girls. When my parent’s got divorced I blamed myself even though there was nothing I could have done. I felt buried under the pressures of being the perfect daughter as shown with the brown curve. My sister (only 3 years older than me) was my parent; waking me up, getting me to school, taking me to Hebrew school, getting me dinner, etc. Over this period I was forced to become self-sufficient. I had to. I was complimented a few times for being so adult for my age. I latched on to that as a way to build up my self worth. If i couldn’t be pretty, at least I could be mature. I was looking forward to high school as a promised land of new beginnings.

I guess I got what I wanted.

I’m not going into details about what happened. It was a traumatic event. That’s all you need to know. But it left me angry, broken, grieving, and hateful. Once again, I blamed myself even though what happened was in no way my fault. The way I was treated as a result only tore my self worth and body image to shreds. I was ugly. I was at fault. I wasn’t worth caring. I wasn’t good enough. Several years of therapy have let me process a lot of this period in my life. It was the start of my ED behaviors as I tried to make myself worth caring about. Black tainted my experience through a series of deaths. My lowest point was when I realized that I would be the next one if I didn’t get help for my ED.

Hope is purple to me. I began seriously writing in high school (nothing good. Nothing you write in high school is good. You think you’re the next Harper E. Lee or John Green with these big themes that you really don’t understand yet. But it was a way to get some of these big emotions out.) It gave me something to value about myself when I was still belittled as ‘stupid’. When I started college I began to get therapy for anxiety and my ED. Since then I’ve been building myself again. I am stronger. I am a survivor. I do not exist for the approval of others. It sparked a new light, a new fire for me.

“Dance” (2019). Colored pencil on paper. Free draw.

The three overlapping figures represent different dance styles that I’ve done. Red is Hula/Shawl. Green is Irish Step. Blue is Judaic Circle. It all overlaps to me.

“Movement” (2019). Oil pastel on paper. Prompted

Visualizing a group exercise where we were passing items across space. I’m the blue.

“Animals” (2019). Colored pencil and watercolor on paper. Prompted.

Draw three animals. The first is how you think others see you. The second is how you see yourself. The third is who you want to be.

Owl. The wise one. Solitary. Nocturnal. Independent. An omen maybe.

Salmon. Swimming upstream and trying to overcome the currents. Needs others to survive.

Fox. Cunning. Sleek. Adaptive. Wild.

I like the insular style of Tomm Moore and definitely took inspiration here. I wanted all of the animals to be connected in some way, so that style seemed best suited to that.

“Pondshore” (2020). Oil and chalk pastel on paper. Prompted.

What stood out the most during a walk outside?

“Nature walk” (2019). Crayon and oil pastel on paper. Prompted.

How did the nature walk make you feel?

I felt movement from the trees blowing in the wind, the grey sky over head, and my own body.

“How rare and beautiful it is to even exist” (2020). Pencil on paper. Prompted.

Create a mandala.

I pulled on the Tomm Moore style again with all of the components flowing into each other in some way. There are birds flying into the distance, a vine that becomes a raging sea, a woman before a fire, a sun in the sky and a half moon setting. Yes, the title is from Saturn by Sleeping at Last.

“Lyric” (2019). Colored pencil and pencil on paper. Prompted.

What inspires you?

I use sinuous lines of lyrics create my figure. I’m inspired by music and these are songs which have stuck with me.

Blue: “Hello, I've been waiting for you/ I didn't know if you'd recognize my voice/ Cause I've been whispering your name and I've been imagining this day hoping that I’ll say/ Welcome home/ Welcome home. (“Welcome Home” by Joy Williams)

Orange: “Well, I've been deep in this sleeplessness/ I don't know why/ Just can't get away from myself/ When I get back on my feet I'll blow this open wide/ And carry me home in good health” (“Who Do You Love” by Marianas Trench)

Red: “This is gospel for the fallen ones/ Locked away in permanent slumber/ If you love me let me go/ 'Cause these words are knives that often leave scars/ The fear of falling apart” (“This is Gospel” by P!ATD)

Yellow: “How do you write like you're/ Running out of time?/ Write day and night like you're/ Running out of time?/ Like you're running out of time/ Are you running out of time?/ How do you write like tomorrow won't arrive?” (“Non-Stop” from Hamilton)

Purple: “When I die/ I don't want to rest in peace/ I want to dance in joy/ I want to dance in the graveyards/ And while I'm alive/ I don't want to be alone/ Mourning the ones who came before/ I want to dance with them some more/ Let's dance in the graveyards/ Gloria, like some other name/ We kept on calling ya” (“Dance in the Graveyard” by Delta Rae)

“Billowing out a River from My Lungs” (2019). Watercolor, colored pencil, and oil pastel on paper. Free draw.

I’m actually working on a newer version of this. It was just something to explore mediums and a bit of meditative practice.

“Emotions (Sadness, Creativity, Loneliness, Hope, Grief, Sonder)” (2019). Watercolor on paper. Prompted.

Pick six emotions and represent them.

Sadness is dark to me, heavy, and spiraling. It’s a whirlpool that drags you down.

Creativity is spontaneous, bright and orange like flowers. I tried to convey that with different strokes and a golden spark in the corner.

Loneliness is hard and harsh absence. That feeling of emptiness despite being surrounded by love and compassion.

Hope is green, a path in the forrest that is moving upward, forward.

Grief is red and raw at first and then the longing fades in, dark and deep.

Part 2 is coming soon

#my art #a portfolio of recovery #art #art history #art historian #hey look art

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joannawoo · 5 years

Text

Mental Health is Important

It's been a long time since I've written a longer post. My last one was around my birthday, just as I was about to embark on my birthday trip to Australia. Today is World Mental Health Day so I figured it'd be a good time to talk about that and what I've experienced since the end of March.

I ended my last post with the words that I can now look back on and laugh at, "I know that no matter what happens, I’ll maybe not enjoy the whole ride, but at least I’ll probably get a good story out of it. :)" By far the most interesting chapter of my career so far, but also a very important one related to my mental health. Recently, I started reading The Empath's Survival Guide by Judith Orloff. I find that I have better control over how others affect me now, but I was really struggling from the beginning to April right up until the end of August and there were so many different factors that contributed to it.

While they probably didn't even think anything of it, for months, I felt awful for not always checking in with the North folks who were let go. I started my role at HelloFresh, learning about things and relationships before my start date. Between wrapping up my time at Mappedin and starting at HelloFresh, I never took the time to reflect on my trip to Australia and there are still hours of unedited underwater footage from when I did my dives in the Great Barrier Reef. Now, the trip seems like a very distant memory. To this day, I still feel bad about not checking in with everyone, but have realized that they would've reached out if they needed help and that I am not responsible for their happiness.

Prior to moving to Toronto, I knew that loneliness would hit me like a brick wall. I had pre-emptively set up a doctor's appointment in for 1 month into my new job just to make sure I'd have professional help if needed. I also tried my best to find a community there. I signed up for ultimate frisbee and reached out to a Krav Maga gym. Neither of those really worked out as I was working 14-16 hours a day and didn't have time. I also asked friends to reach out to me, drag me out, invite me out, and that actually worked decently well. I had several friends over to cook with me, making sure I was eating right, and got to connect with certain people a lot more. I tried to date in Toronto as well, but again, didn't have time nor did I have the mental capacity to do that. I ended up having to see my doctor at least once a month and was referred to start seeing a therapist as well. It just kept spiralling downwards to the point where I knew I needed to move back to KW and get away from all that was associated with Toronto. Somehow being physically closer to friends and family resulted in me seeing everyone less. For months, I wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping, hated everything, was severely depressed, and just barely got through each day. Having to decline coffee dates and refusing to find time to help others made me hate myself. I knew it wasn't me. Every trip I took during those months, my enjoyment was taxed. For several nights each week, I'd just either stare blankly at the TV or cry. At some point, I stopped asking for help because for once, I didn't even know how to ask for help any more. I'm the type who doesn't ask for help generally. The first time I ask, it's mostly because I desperately need it. When I'm too far gone, I no longer have the strength to ask. My usual tactics didn't work. I completely lost myself. It really sucked.

I'm very lucky in that I had the option of just throwing in the towel and deciding to move back to KW. I am so thankful for my family doctor because after one of our sessions at the end of July when I scored much too high on her depression assessment, she asked if I had considered just moving back. Right after that, I made my decision. A month later when I had a follow up appointment, I scored significantly better on that same depression assessment. Friends who had the opportunity to see me in July vs September have mostly all commented on how much visibly happier I was. I started having time for myself again and even had a little bit extra to help others again. The move back has made me feel whole again. The lunch, coffee, and dinner dates haven't really stopped since moving back and I'm back to a very full schedule of activities again which I love.

With seasonal affective disorder, my mood just takes such a sharp downturn around October/November. I cannot imagine how bad it would've been if I was still in Toronto right now. Being a leader in HR, I've always felt the need to remove barriers for others. I try to open up conversations around mental health whenever I can because I know how lonely it can be. I share my stories of success and failure hoping that others might benefit from them. I love hearing other people's journeys as well because we're all so different.

People comment all the time about how open I am, but I've been talking about mental health for so many years now that it just seems like a normal thing to do for me. The scariest part this time around though, was that my normal methods of dealing with depression didn't work. Normally my 3-step process is 1. Eat dark chocolate. 2. Exercise. 3. Reach out to friends. This time, I just kept drowning further and further. Let that sink in (no pun intended). I've had about 20 years of experience dealing with depression and had a foolproof science-backed solution to repair myself / re-balance brain chemicals...and I still couldn't get myself out of it. Mental health issues are fucking hard. Love yourself and be kind to others.

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