#any you know it’s bad when someone chronically online and shut in like me actually wants to go outside

[sorrowfulwill]

Istg one of these days I’m gonna become a cannibal just to get something different in my system

[raguonmynieceandnephew]

"It's so unfair to the Rat Grinders that they are killed instantly and the Bad Kids get to roll death saves." SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUP

THIS IS LONG, AND HONESTLY FOR MYSELF, SO YEAH READ IF YOU WANT

I swear to god, this discourse is going to fucking be the end of me. Idk what kind of mind boggling spell Brennan Lee Mulligan wove into the fabric of the universe that spread through the data center of Dropout in order to absolutely hijack y'all's brains when it comes to Cocklord Assgape and her ragtag of character foils but whatever it was has made you Rat Grinder stans INSUFFERABLE in this site.

The levels of treating fictional characters as if they were real people have reached a level I honestly have never anticipated, to the point of y'all actually being mad AT THE CAST for "mistreating" them and ACTUALLY QUESTION BRENNAN'S CAPACITY TO DM. Do you not get how fucking insane that is?

We can't make fun of Copperkettle, one of the most pathetic, petty and incompetent villains in D20 history anymore (even though she is masterfully written and developed to generate this reaction from us) anymore because it's bullying apparently. I saw an account flip the fuck out because someone compared her rivalry with Kristen to Drake and Kendrick's beef. KIPPERLILY IS NOT A REAL GIRL. SHE IS A MAKE BELIEVE CHARACTER IN AN IMPROV SHOW SPAWNED FROM THE BRAIN OF A 36 YEAR OLD MAN

And then what truly pissed me off the MOST about this whole hell is the fact that, being chronically online avid consumers of this goddamn show, I would think you would have but a grasp of the main cast of characters' characterization.

Why the uproar about Riz saying they should chop Oisin's head off? The same Riz who tortured that pixie from Freshman year by shooting off their finger one by one? The same Riz who murked a disarmed and unconscious Coach Daybreak without battin an eye? The same Riz who ATE THE CORPSE OF KALVAXUS?

And the whole Fabian vs Ivy debacle MY GOD, THE GIRL WAS RACIST TO HIS GIRLFRIEND AND USED HER LAST BREATH TO CALL MAZEY "OBJECTIVELY UGLY". And the funniest thing is that is not even the most unhinged shit he has ever said.

And finally, Death Save Gate: THE RAT GRINDERS ARE NOT PLAYER CHARACTERS. THEY ARE NPCS! THE RULES FOR EACH WORK DIFFERENTLY, ESPECIALLY THEM BEING BOSS ENCOUNTERS. Imagine having to still hit Ivy or Oisin 2 more times to kill them when there is 14 foot tall Porter throwing legendary actions left and right, with Jace, and other 3 spell casters + Mary Ann and KLCK up and running. It's called balancing the fucking game. Also, game masters are entitled to break, mold and make up any rules they want if they find necessary in order to service themselves and their players. IF YOU PLAY WITH ALL THESE RULES AS THEY COME, GOOD FOR YOU AND YOUR TABLE. THIS IS NOT YOUR TABLE.

Not only is Brennan DMing for his CLOSEST FRIENDS EVER, he is also shooting and producing an ENTIRE TV SHOW. So yeah, i think he knows wtf he is doing.

"But the Ratgrinders had no real development": True. But it wasn't for lack of trying from the players. Everytime they tried to know more, the dice didn't let them, so they decided to focus on the mystery. It simply do be like that sometimes.

"But they are just kids!": And so were Penelope, Dayne, Ragh, Zayn, the Bloodrush Players, Aelwyn and Biz. Why wasn't it a problem then? Because most of them were evil to some extent and were about to bring the fucking apocalypse to the world? Yeah, sounds familiar right? And the ones who were manipulated or had any sort of redemption worked their way into earning it, right? Yeah.

In conclusion, I fucking love the Rat Grinders, I truly do, and not unlike 90% of this website, i'm still holding on to hope that they have any sort of development and redemption in the last episode, because I agree, they ARE children and they WERE manipulated by Porter and Jace, but like, can we also agree that they are fucking assholes and had it fucking coming? Also, the BKs are children too y'know. SO STOP BEING FUCKING ANNOYING.

[marshmallowprotection]

Hello Kait, how are you doing? I hope your day have been well and the cold season is not too bad at your place.

Actually, I've been sick for a while now and went to the clinic a few hours ago. I feel like... I'm tired of dealing with sickness and medication. Of course, I'm not sick enough to the point of having chronic illness. But I'm also not that healthy either since I've always prone to getting sick since I was a child.

I used to have countless doctor appointments back then. Sometimes, I even have to go through 3 different doctors from different departments on the same day. I don't even know if I have the right to complain about this when there's literally a lot of people out there going through worse illness than me...

But I'm really not coping well with all these medications. Sometimes the side effect can be harsh to deal with too. I wish I could say to someone that I don't want to take pills after pills anymore. At some point my stomach churned at the thought of hospitals and clinics because I don't want to go through the appointments again.

I also hate how physically and mentally vulnerable I am whenever I got sick. I'm always the one who take care of myself and while it taught me how to be independent, sometimes... I just wish I had someone to take care of me. I want to know how it feels like to be taken care of for once in my life.

I guess that's where Saeran comes into the picture. The fact that he knows exactly what I feel about everything and would be glad to nurse me back into health... it's a nice thought, a nice distraction even for a bit.

I'm sorry for the long ask. I have a lot of things in mind and this sickness is making me want to let everything out of my system.

Saeran has been to Hell and back when it comes to his health.

Things have been looking a lot better for him ever since he got out of Mint Eye. However, leaving that place didn't instantaneously free him of what he had been dealing with since he was a small child. It simply allowed him to begin the process of taking care of himself properly, and while he is doing that more often these days, his immune system is shot and he is susceptible to your seasonal flu and cold a lot more than your average guy.

A small cold could knock him out of his shoes whether he likes it or not. It's not the best time in the world when he gets sick, but boy, he has learned all kinds of tricks and tools in his research online. Sure, it is possible to a doctor now, God knows Jumin has helped him get a lot of help that he couldn't have otherwise had before, but still, being able to take care of himself is no walk in the park. He can't just sleep off the illness all day long.

There are other things he can do, and any trick he learns going into the back of his head to not only help him, but to take care of his loved ones, too. Sure, it's a learning curve to make sure you're comfortable, but the same can be said about anyone! He just has to find how what helps you feel best. What meals are easy? Do you like to rest? Do you prefer to bundle up? Do you watch comfort shoes? What drink do you like when you feel anxious?

Whatever you need, he's got you covered!

But, today, most of all, what you might need is for him to be by your side as you try to rest. His hand tracing patterns into the back of your shirt again and again, your tired eyes shutting as soon as you nuzzle your head against his chest, and his voice ringing through your ears like a rumble.

"I know you feel awful right now, but I'm here for you, my love. I wish I could take the pain away, but I know I can't... so, I'll do the next best thing... and hold you close to my heart... so our love can remind you that you're not alone, no matter how bad you feel."

[definitelynotnia]

sorry i have to rant or i will cry i hate when im so angry that the anger comes out as tears

tw: random guy being a general asshole abt lgbtq and trans ppl so if you dont wanna deal with that today, cz ik there's already enough hate literally everywhere online, then please save yourself from this burden and move along, i hope u have a nice day bcz if i cant then someone should

i just spent my whole afternoon arguing with this guy- it was such a waste of my time i haven't slept properly last night and i wanted to take a nap but my nap time is GONE i hate this i told him im done with this conversation and that i dont give a shit about him enough to want to educate him on things and have him change his opinion i TOLD HIM IM DONE i told him that he can keep his opinion shoved up his ass and as long as he doesn't bully people i dont give a shit i was READY TO GO TAKE MY NAP but nooo this bitch is like "just say you've run out of valid points" like BITCH NO.

i can't have valid points to counter you with because all the points ur giving me are utter bullshit like how the fuck am i supposed to reply to "ppl assigned male at birth wearing skirts and make up is worse than war" like WHAT???? DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF??? ARE YOU INSANE? what the fuck am i supposed to respond to that with? except that trans people aren't hurting anyone and war is, and he's like "at least war can be contained, these people are spoiling the mentality of the youth" like YOU ARE THE SPOILED YOUTH not the other way around, im like listen if you were really pressed about children and how trans inclusivity impacts children then you would have at least read more about that but if your first point is only "they're doing surgery on children" then clearly you have not even done as much as a simple google search so we both know that you just heard that in some random reel and went with it and you dont give two shits about the supposed 'children being made to undergo surgery', which they're not, and all you actually care about is looking cool and edgy by hating on the lgbtq community because thats whats in trend right now in india. he's like these people are too privileged why cant they just shut up and enjoy life they are rich like first of all rich people can have problems too??? also being able to afford therapy and gender affirming care does not equal to rich thats like saying if someone in ur family has any chronic illness ur automatically rich like ??? also poor people are trans too? and im so sick of these ppl thinking being trans is just an american thing or a first world problem like brother no? you are literally living in india trans people are mentioned in the FUCKING SCRIPTURES are u KIDDING ME? being trans is not a new sudden occurence its been there for longer than you have. like literally after 2 hours of conversation the only points he could think of to hate on lgbtq for no reason is

they are rich and privileged so they shouldnt have problems

if they have a problem with their gender they should keep it to themself and not fight it (??????)

they are running from their problems (they are literally solving the problem thats the part which everyone is mad abt its when trans people try to solve the problem by being okay with expressing themselves freely and to counter i said that even alcoholics are running from their problems ive never seen any of u andrew tate cocksuckers ever make a "joke" bullying alcoholics he's like thats different like literally all his "points" are him just saying whatever and then if u try to explain it with logic he'll be like no but thats ok bcz i said so and this is wrong bcz i said so like fuck you dude)

they shouldnt have rallies and stuff because there's more important things like war that the government should focus on (he was the one who said "war is a beacon of peace there cannot be peace without war" when i had first mentioned that its ironic that out of all the bad things happening in the world rn LIKE war the biggest thing he's worried about is a "man" wearing a skirt but ok sure now all of a sudden war is a big boo boo and we should all be focusing on that, so basically when he wants to hate on ppl war is irrelevant but when a marginalised group wants to fight for their rights that time war is the most important point and no one elses suffering is valid bcz there is war)

it is spoiling today's youth (im not even gonna talk about this because i do not see how people living their lives and just existing is considered "spoiled" and "corrupt" but people regularly hating on, bullying and degrading a whole ass community just because they are uneducated swines lacking critical thinking skills and a spine that saw some 'famous' youtuber or influencer or wtv or maybe a reel with 'dark humor' dissing on lgbtq and pronouns and 'blue haired girls' and now they thing they're oh so cool and edgy and dIfFeReNt and "not like those woke snowflakes" just cz they degrade and bully a whole community of people every chance they get)

im so done im SO DONE with this bullshit its EVERYWHERE its a trend now to be hateful and mean and an asshole to anyone who isnt "normal" according to heteronormative standards. i understand not having an opinion, to some extent ok i get it you're young you don't need to be involved in this yet but no, they want to have an opinion but they will do no research they physically shudder at the thought of reading a book and god forbid they actually google up a trustworthy article to confirm some of the bullshit they believe they will do none of this but they will scream and shout about how lgbtq is the problem and magically that is the only "social issue" they care about and they care soo vehemently apparently that they have to post about it and make dArK jOkEs about it and use slurs and degrade them every chance they get because THEY are harmful yes sure you who are actively spreading hate are the angelic saviours of society and a community of people JUST EXISTING are the ones that are harmful, right.

[garbage--account]

Ladies, may i have your attention please ?

Reblog and share this post with the most girlies possible right now, because

👏WE 👏NEED 👏TO 👏START 👏AN 👏OLDER 👏VIRGIN 👏GIRL 👏SUPPORT 👏GROUP

(Lads, don't you effing start laughing like stupid, i bite fr! Love u if u support tho)

If you are like me, a 24 yo and + woman and virgin/never had sex/single, or can relate to, let's start this mf support group, reblog and share so that more ladies can follow us, 'cause i can't be the only one 😤

If you don't, reblog and share are still appreciated but DON'T READ THE REST OF THE POST FOR I AM GOING TO SLANDER 🌠Jennifer🌠 SO HARD, THE CHILDREN MUST NOT SEE AND U DON’T WANNA SEE THAT

Ladies, be a girl's girl and join the fight against 🌠Jennifer🌠 !!!

TW : abuse of the word "virgin" because it's not an insult not a compliment so we are getting used to hear it. If your uncomfortable with "virgin", get out 🚪🚶‍♀️

By the way, 🌠Jennifer🌠 is not a person : she is an allegory, she represents the people when i tell them i am virgin.

I picture 🌠Jennifer🌠 as female because in french, my native language, nouns have genders and society is female, i don't make the rules 💅 I don't personally know a Jennifer : i picked the name for the vibe.

Since i am adult virgin woman, she assumes that I :

Too pure for this world

Waiting for marriage

Religious

Traditional

No fun at all

Don't get sex joke

Blushing/outraged at anything even remotly intimate

Ugly/unattractive

Bad at flirting

A lesbian in denial

Aro/ace

Femcel

Shy/not assertive/doesn't dare anything

Childish/immature

Don't take care of myself

Must have something wrong in my body and/or my head

Aiming for someone not single (for example, her lame and uglyass bf 🤮)

Hate men

Too masculine/not womanly enough

A "nice girl" or a "one of the boys"

Scaring/disgusted the boys out

Scared of the 🍆

Don't know how it works

"Too much into politic" / too feminist

Set my standards too high

Have a trauma

Not interested in others/antisocial/sociopath/cavewoman

Don't masturbe

Need advice about the boys

Too romantic

Had strict parents

A lonely girl

Actually a minor

Cringe

Chronically online

Don't know life

Lying

Like STFU, stop. You don't even make sense !

We were talking, getting to know each other. We were getting along so far until i dropped "actually i am still a virgin" bomb.

And then 🌠Jennifer🌠 started to look at me funny and that's how i KNOW she will less respect me. Like she either babying or gaslighting me. She may not say anything but all the previous points above are shining through her sassy eyes.

I KNOW i may sound aggressive in this post but irl i am not like that, she just annoys me so much . Your girl have a job, friends, hobby, ambition, dreams, YOUR GIRL IS BUSY and doesn't have to put up with those bs.

The worst is : i am perfectly okay with me having reaching adulthood and still being virgin, but it somehow bugs🌠Jennifer🌠' for no reason and wanna make it my problem.

So hear me out, 🌠Jennifer🌠 :

what i put or not my coochie is not your effing business

I am 24, you thought seeing a dick pic would have me blushing ?

As if i'd want ur lameass bf 🤮 he doesn't even treat u right

All the men i know so far were nothing but wonderful with me

Do i need to show you my 139452 step self-care routine to prove you i am girly enough ?

If i scare the men, how come you are not scared of me ? (Fear me or i will harvest your kneecaps)

What if i wasn't queer/lgbt ? (Show them support pls)

I am fabulous 💅💅💅💅💅🖕

I don't have any sex related trauma, but i will be your worst nightmare if you keep going

Why would i be lying ? I don't have time for creating bs, unlike you

No i am not hidding it 🖕

I would love to do sex jokes for you. Unfortunatly i don't like you and will not joke around with u

Your standards are too low

Me and my bitches from the adult virgin women support group will put you down and we are not shutting up. Period 💅

[hesgunnalovethis]

Dark Circles

Summary: You’re cramming for a big exam. Until Leonard McCoy finds out you haven’t slept in 3 days.

Bones x Reader

Masterlist!  (thank you for all the love you guys are the best <3)

 TW: bit of sleep deprivation init, strong language, passing mention of death (satirically)

 Word Count: 1514

  You had been working on the Enterprise as a student medic for some time now. With a busy five year mission, an unspoken fling with the Chief Medical Officer and a crew who couldn’t seem to keep themselves in one piece, you’d began to believe you’d never make it that final step to officially become Doctor Y/L/N. So, when The Academy offered for you to take your final exams online, you jumped at the chance. 

The exam was in three days. You’d somehow managed to nab yourself a week clear of shifts. Whoever made up the rotas must have it sweet for you you’d joked to Leonard who was now working a doubly busy week. He didn’t mind, he knew how important this was to you. 

 You were ready to be free from the constant watchful eye of people only as skilled as you and you knew it. But having neglected textbook terminology for three years you panicked wondering if you’d be able to convince Starfleet the same. You’d been hitting the books hard for the last few days. Really, you’d been doing little else. So much so that the words were beginning to jumble before your eyes. 

Your comm rang. You answered to Jim’s shrill voice like you were teenagers on a landline. Jim had been a good few years above you at The Academy but you had always been close. Jim initially approached you as a night out trophy and when you’d firmly put him in his place, even through six vodka blackcurrants, he knew he’d found a good drinking buddy. 

 “Sooo how you feeling!” Jim asked as if your final medical exam was a first date. 

 “Honestly? Nauseous. Although I don’t know if that’s the nerves or the tiredness.” The first time you’d spoken in days, you remembered. 

 “Jeez how long have you been up?” 

 “Long enough to be two and half notebooks down.” You eyed the strewn pads filled with messy words and diagrams. You definitely passed the doctors handwriting stereotype. 

 “Maybe I’ll stop by with another one for you. And maybe some crushed up pills.” He wasn’t joking but you laughed anyway. 

 “And how is... the ship?” You said, head scrabbled but feeling rude not asking about him. 

 “Still in space.” 

 “That is good to hear.” 

 “For real, Y/N, are you alright? Do you need anything? Water? Food? A certain doctor?”

 “I need everyone on this ship to stand still for three days so I’m ready to sit this.” Jim was silent knowing that he couldn’t promise that and that he’d probably be first injured. “Currently skim reading the dermal regenerator chapter. If another ensign gets stabbed that’s on them.” 

 “As your Captain I can’t laugh at that.” 

 “’As your captain,’” you mimicked “shut the fuck up, Jim.”

 “Fair.” Jim said in defeat after a long silence. “I’ll get Bones up to see you in a bit” 

 “Don’t bother him, he’s working all his own shifts and all of mine, he’ll be more of a corpse than me.” 

 “I have never seen that man in any state other than grumpy. I’ll check up on you in a few.” 

 “Catch.” You said hanging up the comm.

 A few hours past and you’d filled up your third notebook throwing it on the pile and picking up a fresh one, like clockwork. 

 Another hour passed and Jim had rang your comm, again. You ignored it. Another hour. Another ring. Another comm ignored. You only had six textbooks left and you weren’t going to let anything distract you. Almost. 

 The door to your quarter opened as you finished notepad four. You didn’t fully register it until you noticed the room become significantly brighter. You’d really been sitting there for long enough for the room to assume you’d died. Interesting. 

 You looked up to silently thank the ceiling and were greeted by two cold hands against your skin planting a kiss on top of your head. You’d recognise those hands in death. Hands that didn’t need to sit this exam. You were jealous of them. 

 You felt him squat behind you hugging you from behind his cheek brushing against yours. 

 “How’s it been?” You asked instinctively about the sickbay. 

 “Y’know,” he began, spinning your chair away from the desk to face him, “It’s been-“ he stopped brief worry passing over his face. Brief but not unnoticed. 

 “What?” 

 “Darlin’ you are so pretty, you know that, but right now you have two friends I don’t know called ‘extremely dark’ and ‘evidently from sleep deprivation circles’ under your eyes.” He said it delicately, you scoffed. 

 “You’re not looking so hot yourself Mr Five O’clock Shadow.” Leonard’s mouth peaked at the corners suppressing a laugh. 

 In that moment you felt silently sorry for Jim who’d claimed never to see Leonard’s softness. ‘Jim’ you thought. 

 “Jim sent you?” You questioned spinning your chair back towards the desk but finding it halted by Leonard’s foot. He shook his head. 

 “He mentioned a few missed comms but I was already on my way here. I assumed you’d be sleeping. It is 4am.” 

 You looked at the time to verify. You swore the last time you checked it had been 5am. 

 “How long have you been awake?” Leonard asked assessing the desk space. 

 “A few nights.” 

 “Nights?” He cocked his eyebrow at you. “Nights are for sleeping.”

 “It’s the same as working a few nights.” You stated. 

 He smiled softly at you, reaching forward to knock your glasses from your hair to your eyes. You could see again. He’d actually gifted you sight. 

 “When we work a few shifts in a row, we take breaks. How many breaks have you taken?” 

 “A few.” 

 “Bullshit.” He was right so you didn’t argue. 

 “I just have a few things left to cover before I can start doing practice exams. I’ll take a break then.” 

 Leonard was already at your desk closing textbooks and tidying flashcards. You tried to interfere but he simply moved your hands and stroked your hair. 

 “You get changed, I’ll get you some water.” 

 You were suddenly thankful someone had pried you away. You didn’t realise how awful you felt. Head pounding, nauseous, eyes failing. 

 “Test me?” You asked. Leonard turned eyeballing you. His facial expressions having a silent conversation. 

 ‘Really?’ His face said. 

 ‘Please?’ Your face said back. 

 “Your patient is paralysed. First point of call?”

 “Neutral transducer.” You shouted from the bathroom not missing a beat. 

 “And how does that work?”

 “By picking up neural signals from the brain to mimic and stimulate appropriate muscles.” You were right. Leonard was silent for a few minutes allowing you to brush your teeth and change. “Keep going.” You shouted back. 

 “It’s pointless you know everything.” He stated. You walked back into the room giving him a sad face. He rolled his eyes he couldn’t say no to you. 

 “What are the symptoms of fatigue?” Leonard said handing you a glass of water. You shot him an annoyed look, his face was pure innocence. 

 “Chronic tiredness.” You said. He urged you to continue, “Dizziness, headache, impaired vision, slow reflexes, muscle weakness, appetite loss.”

 “I think you’re missing a few.” He said. You sighed at him knowing the point he was trying to make. 

 “Poor concentration, short term memory problems, impaired judgement.” 

 “Heck… sound familiar?” He said as you both climbed onto the bed. 

 Leonard pulled you towards him, taking your entire body in his kissing your under eye repeatedly. 

 “It’s been fun ‘evidently from sleep deprivation circles’ but you’ve gotta go. It’s not personal I just love your host too much to keep you around.” Leonard joked and rearranged your pillows to make you both more comfortable. 

 “One more.” You whispered almost completely asleep. Leonard sighed heavily. 

 “Where’s a Vulcans heart.” You laughed at the easiness of the question. 

 “Right side. Between ribs and pelvis.”

 “Oooo, wrong.” He said pulling you closer. 

 “What! No I’m not?!” 

 “Vulcans don’t have hearts. Have you met the one we work with?” 

 You laughed, softly elbowing him in his own ribs for being horrible. 

 “You do this every time you have something big. You work yourself into the ground. It’s not good for you darlin’. Not good for my blood pressure either.” Leonard softly said removing the glasses from your face. 

 “I’m just scared. God knows how long I’ll need to wait to resit it.” You mumbled. 

 “Y/N, you don’t have to scrounge through textbooks for these answers. You’ve lived these answers. Hell I’ve watched you take over from doctors well above your rank when they’ve started feeling the heat. You’re exceptional. Being a doctor is in your damn blood.” You could tell by his tone he was sincere. Your heart sung but your head retorted. 

 “What if I fail?”

 “Then I guess you’ll have no choice but to have me watching over you for another two years.” Leonard rested his head on top of yours allowing your own to fall onto his chest. 

 “I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.” ‘And hopefully a lot longer’ you thought as you finally drifted off to sleep.

[schrijverr]

Not an old man

The day has come, after nearly a week of having no life I have finished The Magnus Archives!

This is about the fact that Jon looks like an old man, despite being pretty young. In this fic he is the youngest and the others find out after Tim ribs him a bit too much about being an old man, with light chronic pain thrown in.

Takes place in season 1

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: Light chronic pain

~~~~~~~~~~

Jon knew he looked old. His hair was greying prematurely, the stress had etched itself into his face and he dressed like he was eighty and wore glasses with retainers. So yeah, he looked old and he knew. Still that didn’t stop him from being 31 when he got the job as Archivist.

In the hope of not making people uncomfortable with his promotion at that age and because he didn’t think it any of his assistants would believe him, he kept quiet about being the youngest there. He also thought they wouldn’t appreciate that their boss was younger than them.

Tim was after him the youngest and used that fact to get out of doing tasks he didn’t want to. Jon kept telling him that age didn’t matter and that he had to do his job. Tom only replied that an old man such as himself wouldn’t get it and Jon grit his teeth as he told Tim to go back to work and just do the tasks he was assigned.

It didn’t help that his joints had a habit of rioting against him as well whenever he had sat still for too long. His knees would crack when he got out of a chair and his back and shoulders made horrible sounds when he stretched.

Today wasn’t good a good day. He was sore all over, because he had fallen asleep at his desk and the stress about what Martin had told him was weighing him down.

He looked terrible.

Tim hadn’t taken long to notice, grinning at him the moment he’d walked in. Jon wanted to ignore him, like he always did, but as stated before: today wasn’t a good day.

He had nothing to record, so he was in the main room almost constantly, working alongside his assistants in the archive. They were hauling boxes to sort through and Jon was struggling with one box while Martin and Tim both could carry two at a time.

Finally, it all came to a head when Jon had gracelessly put down one of the boxes and his elbows cracked in the process. He rubbed at it absentmindedly until Tim said: “I hear your joints are finally giving out, old man.”

It wasn’t even the worst Tim had ever said to him, but it snapped something in him. His joints always hurt faintly in the background and it sucked that there was nothing he could do about it. He had kept him mouth shut to make the other less uncomfortable, but he was done with it, just absolutely done. So he sniped back: “Thank you, Tim, for reminding me just how much my body is failing. I’ll have you know that it isn’t fun and you can shove your old man jokes up your ass, because I’m younger than you, you twat.”

Then he turned around and stormed off, needing just a bit of room to breathe. So he did what he found logical and locked himself into his office.

Tim blanked completely, only coming back online with the slamming of the door. He turned to an equally shocked Martin and Sasha and asked: “Did you hear what I just heard or was I delusional?”

“No, no.” Sasha said, “He told you to shove it up your ass and called you a twat. Jon ‘stuck-up’ Sims can swear.”

“Yeah that too,” Tim replied, “but that’s not what I’m talking about. He said he was younger than me, old geezer Jon. He can’t be younger than me, can he?”

“He told you to stop it with the insult about his age, Tim.” Martin said.

“You believe him?” Tim exclaimed.

Martin shrugged: “He doesn’t really have a reason to lie.”

“That’s fair.” Sasha agreed.

“Yes, he does.” Tim frowned, “He wanted me to stop, because he’s insecure about it, so he lied.”

“That sounds ridiculous.” Sasha told him.

“And beside that,” Martin said, “he sounded like it hurt that everything cracked, what did he say again? Uhm: ‘his body failing him.’ That doesn’t really sound fun, so even if he’s lying about his age, maybe you should stop if you’re making fun of something that’s hurting.”

While the three were arguing outside, Jon had collapsed onto the floor in his office and leaned against the door. He was curled into himself while he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tried not to cry. It was stupid, he told himself, it was stupid and now he had ruined the only sort of non-professional interaction he had. The thought didn’t stop countless of fruitless doctor visit to bubble up in front of his eyes and he pushed them away along with the tears that threatened to leak. It wasn’t even that bad, others had it much worse, he couldn’t complain. But still, it wasn’t fun and as much as he knew he looked old and didn’t mind the comments about his older appearance, the shitty jokes at the expense of his joints stung slightly.

He almost missed the faint knock on his door, but when it came again a bit harder he couldn’t ignore it. He bit out a harsh: “What?”

He could hear Tims sheepish voice through the door: “Uhm, I wanted to say sorry, boss. I should’ve known when to stop.”

Tim had realized how mean his remarks could sound, after Martins comment, so he had sucked it up and went to apologize. He was slightly concerned when Jons voice came from far lower than should be right, but decided not to mention it. Even when he heard a small voice ask: “Do you mean it?”

He nodded then realized Jon couldn't see him, so he said: “I mean it, Jon. Hurting isn’t funny, even if it was meant as a jab about your age and I should’ve known that. I took it too far.”

There was some shuffling on the other side of the door until it swung open to reveal Jon. His hair was a bit disheveled and his eyes were wet, although it didn’t look like he had actually cried. He looked vulnerable, despite his best efforts to hide it with a stern expression. He gruffly said: “Glad you learned that, although I might have overreacted slightly.”

His gruffness and emotional detachment didn’t really sound convincing with the state he was in. Tim rolled his eyes and pulled Jon into a side hug. He ruffled his hair and said: “You reacted just fine, boss. So, how old are you then, eh?”

Jon was starting to regret ever mentioning his age, but he silently handed Tim his wallet so that he drivers license. Tim squinted at the year as he tried to do the math. He began: “So that means you’re, uh…”

“31, yes.” Jon filled in.

Tim whistled: “Wow, I was way off, I had you up the forties.”

Jon had wrestled himself free from Tims grip and said: “I know, I don’t look it, don’t feel it too most of the time. I didn’t want to mention it, because most people find it difficult when their boss is younger than them.”

“Ahw, you can be human.” Tim cooed.

“Don’t let it get to your head or something.” Jon groused, but then he added carefully: “It’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

Tim shook his head and said: “No, I’ve got way more experience with picking on someone younger than me, don’t worry, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He blinked away the image of his brother and smiled at Jon.

Jon tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help but smile back. Then Tim looked back at the wallet and saw that there was a picture of Jon and his grandmother in it, so he did the only logical older-brother thing and called out to the others: “Who wants to see a picture of baby Jon!”

“No, give it back.” Jon yelled as he tried to lunge for it, but Tim was too fast and he was already showing Sasha and Martin. He made sure to hold it just out of Jons reach, something that was easy because of Jons short stature.

Jon grumbled about it for weeks later, but in the end it was nice. The others treated him more like they did the one another now that they knew he had grown up in the same years and they tried to be considerate when they saw him wincing when he moved.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #303

“if i can’t be loved, then i’ll be hated”

What color are your glasses, if applicable? Black. Candy corn or conversation hearts? They're both gross, don't make me pick between garbage. Do you own a lot of earrings? Not really after I weeded them out before moving. What did your backpack in high school look like? I dare say I had the dopest backpack of them all. It looked like a massive Ouija board, and the zipper was the planchet (sp?). Have you ever been to a rave? Nah. What is your favorite art medium? I have a particular fondness of oil paintings. They tend to look so smooth, and you can achieve incredible realism with them. How far away is the nearest hospital from you? Not even five minutes, I think. Who was the last person you visited in a hospital? My mom. What is your favorite car color? Pink, duh. How did you learn to type? We actually had a class specifically for typing in middle school. What style of wedding dress do you want? I don't have that set in stone yet, but I really do love ballgown dresses with long trains as well as a-lines with a moderate train. I love a lot, except really for mermaid dresses. Do you fit into any stereotype, or are you non-stereotypical? I don't know if I fit perfectly into any and really don't care. Would you want your first child to have your hair color? ???? I don't care about their hair lol?????? It would depend on the hypothetical father, in which case I'd probably find it cute, but this is so, so unimportant. Do you enjoy writing in cursive? Yeah, it just feels good and flowy to me. What is your favorite hair color? Natural? Probably blonde with natural darker undertones throughout. I like blonde hair because it's far easier to dye, haha. Now, if we're including DYED hair, rose gold or pastel pink is *chefs kiss* What is your favorite eye color? Sapphire blue, probz. Would you put your birthday on a different day if you could? Nah, it's fine where it is. What holiday is your birthday closest to? Valentine's. Do you vent on social media a lot? NOOOOOOOO. I barely post ANYTHING about myself on social media because I feel like I'm being annoying, self-absorbed, find anything I do actually interesting, or don't want people to think I'm a whiner. All I ever really do on social media is share or reblog funny shit, things I love, stuff I find relatable or inspirational, educational, important for whatever reason, etc... Do you have abusive parents? I am very thankful to say no. Is your house haunted? Doesn't seem like it. What's your favorite thing to watch on YouTube? I'm in a real WoW-related phase lately... Watching my favorite streamers, gold farming guides, and other various aspects of the game. What are five health problems that you have? I talk about the mental issues enough, so I guess I'll talk about physical stuff here. Uhhh I have very low blood pressure (it's a med side effect), I have extremely weak legs following muscle atrophy, I have bad tremors, especially in my hands (amplified by medication once again), maybe TMI but we're adults here and it's a legit issue that I have chronic and severe conspitation, aaaand then of course I have hyperhidrosis (excessive sweating) to a fucking outrageous and also humiliating degree. Ooooonce again as a prescription side effect. This answer made meds sound kinda bad, I know, but really, I'd rather have the will to live and just have to deal with these than want to die everyday and not. Do you have surgery coming up? No, let's keep it that way until I lose enough weight and when I am 110% getting loose skin removal. Which family member(s) do you look the most like? My sisters, ig. People say my mom also, but I honestly don't see it. Have you ever cried while watching a YouTube video? Yeah, usually just in let's plays, but it's happened for other reasons. Are you missing a website that just shut down? Nah, none that I know of. NO. FUCKING WAIT. So, when my laptop was fixed, a LOT of shit was wiped from it, and that included all of my goddamn Lightroom editing presets. The site they were from no longer exists, so I had to use a different, pretty sub-par one to install at least a few because it helps me get a start on editing the photograph and leaning towards the "vibe" I want before spending like 15+ minutes tuning it myself. Would you be a barefoot bride? No. Which would you rather name your daughter: Eliana, Echo, Emerald, or Ellery? Ohhh, I like these. I think I prefer "Eliana," but "Echo" is a close second. "Ellery" is nice, but it sounds too much like "celery" to name my kid that lmao. Which would you rather name your son: Maverick, Matthew, or Moses? Ugh, none, honestly. But "Matthew" wins. When was the last time you gave a speech? Like a *legit" speech? Probably not since uhhh... I guess when I argued my disability case at court? Does that even count? Have you ever been in a stampede? Well, never seen this'n in a survey before, so good job, lol. No. If you were a fairy, what color would you like your wings to be? It would depend on what I wore, really. And my hair. But probably light pink. Would you rather name your son Storm, Skylar, Sorin, or Solomon? "Sorin." "Skylar" is SO Southern, and "Solomon" sounds like the creepy kid all his classmates avoid and I ain't putting my kid through that. Did you read a devotional this morning? Not my jam. Would you rather be named Arizona, Alaska, Cali, or Georgia? Hm... "Alaska" is actually kinda cool???? And I'm white as fuck so lol????? I wouldn't mind to nickname of "Ally," anyway. Are you repulsed by ugly reptiles? lololol bro get out Did all your friends know about your first crush or was it a secret? I was definitely secretive and shy about it when I first started getting crushes. Do you ever feel insecure about going out without makeup? I feel insecure either way, so... How many different natural hair colors are there in your immediate family? So, this is a hard question to answer. My mom was born with brown hair, but it darkened to almost black; only her daughter Katie inherited that. By some genetic magic, Dad had blond hair as a kid, but it also turned black. Like... how?????? I was born with dirty blonde hair like him, and mine turned an average brown with age. My immediate sisters have always had brown hair. What is your favorite online game? World of Warcraft is ballin'. Would you ever want to be famous and sign autographs? Ha, the idea of signing autographs is awful... I can't physically write very long without my carpal tunnel flaring up. Do you like your shirt to be loose or tight? LOOSE. Especially as a bigger person, tight shirts are just really uncomfortable. What is your favorite Spanish name? I don't know nearly enough to answer this. Would you rather visit Asia or Europe? I think Asia is, in general, more interesting and prettier as a whole, but I guess I'm drawn to European culture being more like my own and there are specific locations I'm interested in, like Germany or Scotland. So to answer the question, I guess Europe wins. Are there any Asians in your family? I don't believe so. Have you ever had colored braces? Haha yeah, I did that when I had them. Do you take birth control pills? Yes, just for period cramps. Without them, they can be immobilizing for me. If you live in the USA: do you feel free and safe? Ha, no. Well, not *entirely*. Have you ever been sick on your birthday? I was recovering from the stomach virus, if that counts. As in I still got sick the day before and felt iffy on my actual bday. 17th, I think? Is talking about your past painful for you? Yes. Are you a member of any support groups online? I'm a member of The Mighty site, if that counts. When I'm feeling very, very sound of mind and helpful without all the negativity being a detriment to myself, I do like going on there and trying to help or comfort people. Have you ever called a suicide hotline? Yes, and the line was busy, and that's when I decided I was a goner. Do you ever fantasize about revenge? I uhhhhh... sometimes. What's a movie you would recommend to someone who never watches movies? Ohhh, that's hard. I don't really watch movies either, and I'm trying to think of one that essentially anyone would like, so hm. Oh, Coco is absolutely a possibility. That movie touched me so, so deeply and is high on my favorites list. It's impossible to not feel the emotions. Do you want to have grandkids? Hell, I don't want kids. Do you want to be an aunt or uncle? I already am one, and I love being an aunt. Who was your favorite Spice Girl? I don't remember their names or characters in general. Did you make a lot of home videos growing up? I mean *I* didn't, but Mom filmed quite a few. Do you enjoy babysitting? NO. What's an unpopular opinion that you have? Avoiding some political ones, uhhhh. OH. HERE'S ONE. THE SCENE AESTHETIC IS FUCKING CUTE AND NOT CRINGEY AND YOU CAN FIGHT ME ABOUT IT. Are you attracted to the opposite gender, same gender, or both? Both are A+. Was your first crush on someone of the same gender or opposite? Opposite. As a kid, I didn't even fathom the concept that women could date women. What is something you'll never eat again? Why? Brussel sprouts. Fucking disgusting. What is currently happening that is scaring you? Besides the very obvious answer of "Covid," I worry about my mom a lot. She's so weakened after all the chemo and meds and can do literally less than I can without heavily breathing and sweating. I just worry a lot that cancer will return sooner than we hope; I don't want it to EVER come back, but doctors say it is very, very likely at one point or another because she was so very close to Stage 4. What would be your personal hell? Being completely and entirely isolated forever while somewhere hot and humid, lol. And play one of my trigger songs on repeat eternally. What made the "weird kid" at your school weird? There was this poor guy named Alfred that was VERY clearly depressed out of his mind, and I heard him speak maybe once through all of high school, and the entire class couldn't believe it. He always sat way in the back and never smiled. I wonder how he is nowadays. What is a word you personally find offensive? "Retarded" personally offends me the most when misused and spoken as an insult. What instantly puts you to sleep? Now that is HARD to do; I have a ridiculously hard time going to sleep. The easiest way though would probably be me being drained from an emotional breakdown. That is so exhausting that I'm capable of crashing pretty fast and hard. What song is in a language you don't speak, but you love it anyway? I adore Rammstein, so there's plenty. I'll probably say "Donaukinder" is their best. What is something you would like to do if you weren’t judged for doing it? I keep that I RP a complete secret in my "real" life for this reason unless it's like, pried out of me. What's a movie you think everyone should watch? Why that one? Johnny Got His Gun. See how goddamn disgusting war is. What was the most unexpected good thing that's ever happened to you? Ha, realizing I was bisexual after once being homophobic. What is the funniest fact you know? Oh man, I know a lot of random trivia shit, really, so it's hard to say. Maybe that quokkas throw their offspring at predators to distract and escape from them... As awful as that is, c'mon, you gotta admit it's funny and shocking with just how adorable they are. What was your 'mic drop' moment? Oh, I don't know. Possibly when I publicly came out as bi on Facebook and made it abundantly clear that I gave no shits about some homophobic friends and family & I was beyond willing to let anyone's ass go over it. What's the kindest way a stranger has treated you? I remember as a kid at McDonald's, the woman in front of our car paid for our food; apparently seeing a mom, dad, and three kids in a van was enough that she wanted to just be kind and give us a smile. We have no idea who she was, never saw her face or anything, she was just a sweet woman. What is the biggest design flaw of your body? Okay, I'm going to let go of all hatred for my body weight-wise and just think of this as from a strictly natural design perspective, in which case I'd say my toes are too small. What age are you afraid of turning and why? 30, because I'm terrified of getting there and seeing I've possibly gone nowhere. What is the strangest thing you have ever felt? I'm keeping this question in just because I think there could be some interesting answers for others, but I'm witholding my answer because nobody wants or needs to know lmao. What makes someone immediately unlikable? Acting better than others and belittling. Who's a villain you sympathize with and why? D A R K I P L I E R because of his origins and overall purpose and just simply existing. What is something you regret to NOT have done? I have this oddly weird regret of not going like, all-all the way with He Who Shall Not Be Named????? Idk why though????? Considering I loved him way too much and I was a reckless and impulsive person who probably at some point would have wound up accidentally pregs????? What a fuckin trip that woulda been. What movie changed your life for the better? None have really "changed my life." What book you think should be directed as a film? Oh, idk. Most I can think of have been. Of all the decades you've lived in, which one have you liked best? The 2000s, probably. A carefree kid. How are you doing today? I'm exhausted. While out with Mom and my sisters yesterday, we got behind a van whose driver was obviously drunk or high off his goddamn ass, and he was swerving EVERYWHERE, nearly shoving so many cars off the road. Mom called 911 to get in contact with highway patrol to report his dumb fucking ass in. I was having an absolute panic attack and cried quietly like the entire 45 or so minute drive home. I was just so, so upset because this is why I don't fucking drive, and I felt like I'd made my sister (who was driving) mad because she had to firmly tell me I had to calm down (I was hyperventilating and talking to myself to try to calm down) if she was going to focus and keep us safe. She later ensured me she wasn't mad, but I still wasn't the same the entire rest of the day. Anyway, I slept hard last night but had two nightmares, so I'm still really tired today. I'm trying to keep myself really distracted. What's something your relatives don't know about you? A whole lot really, considering beyond my very immediate family, I see almost nobody because they live many states away. What's something your parents did, which you have sworn never to do? Mom would spank us or slap an arm pretty hard if my sisters or I misbehaved or "disrespected" her by "talking back." I'm not having kids, but I would never, ever, ever, put my hands on them in any way that isn't loving. You do not teach children via inflicting fear. I also have this probably overly strong aversion to beer because that's what Dad always drank as an alcoholic. I'll probably never try it, not that I really want to because it smells awful. What's the most annoying thing your pet does? I feel like "annoying" is the wrong word for this, but Roman (my cat) can be incredibly demanding of attention and to lie on me when I'm on the laptop in bed, and sometimes I just want space and be able to clearly see the screen, haha. He will legit meow like a baby and gently swat my arm sometimes if I try to keep him back. Heeee usually gets his way. As for Venus (snek), she does nothing "annoying" either, but rather a bit concerning to a snake mom: she is usually very slow to find and strike her food. I feed her frozen/thawed mice, and she will first slither around her entire cage, tongue flicking and clearly looking for her food, even though I always place it atop the same spot on her hide, and she can have her head RIGHT beside it and still do nothing. She ultimately generally eats (as a ball python though, she's a picky eater and will occasionally reject a meal), but I of course wonder why she's odd about dinnertime... As a champagne, she does have the notorious "spider gene" in her, which can cause neurological issues, but idk if something like this could be related.

[mininky]

Love is for the birds baby!

Summary: You refuse to believe in love. It’s a concept created by big corporations like hallmark to get sad saps like you to buy their shit. But it’s all fake. You’re convinced of that at least until a series of events with a certain tattoo artist who you loved to hate makes you question everything you’ve ever known.

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Yoongi x (fem) reader

Genre/Warnings: Romance, slow burn, fluff, comedy, smut warnings include: unsafe sex (always wear a condom), oral sex (male & fem receiving), multiple orgasms, spanking, light breath play, mentions of squirting. Non smut warnings for lots of cussing. Lots.

Word Count: 13.3K

A/N: A special shout out to @mzpandylu for inspiring me with such odd dialogue. Also challenge accepted, a quivering starfish is mentioned.

   Love is a completely abstract and intangible concept to you, at least romantic love is. There are many forms of love. Familial love is a concept you sort of understand, let's just say that your home life wasn't the greatest but you do at least understand the concept. Platonic love you completely understand. But romantic love? You very secretly yearn to understand it, desperately trying to figure out how the fuck some people get so lucky that the spark happens. You've dated, sure. But try as you might none of them have ever made your head spin or your heart sing. Lust you get. You've had plenty of flings and even some longer relationships, but love? Love is for the birds baby.

   You refuse, absolutely refuse, to admit that you have in any way shape or form an interest in this bizarre concept that is the investment and endeavor of romantic love. You've carefully hidden away all of your fanfics and all of your shojo mangas and all of the things that others would say is honestly completely normal to keep questions at bay. You know that your friends are interested in love, and unlike you they have no shame in admitting it. They talk about it all the time. They fall in 'love' with each man they date. But you're convinced that's not love. It's something more than like, sure you'll give them that but you're sure that it'll all end eventually. Love isn't sustainable because it's all a lie. Maybe you're too romantic at being romantic, perhaps you've just been suckered into all these stories into believing that a whirlwind romance is possible until one day the crushing realization that it wasn't possible occurred. That the sparks of electricity and burning hot embers of passion aren't sustainable and aren't indicative of love.

   You were twenty, he was twenty-one. The two of you had been dating mutually for three years at that point, a lifetime in college years. Billy Johnson. Fucking Billy. He was smart and funny and he actually knew what a clit was, and he kissed you under the night stars and made you feel like you were in love. Maybe you were, but you like to think that the feelings you felt weren't actually that strong. It made the fallout easier. Which brings you to the fallout, that realization that romantic love is all a big corporate lie to sell shitty grocery store roses and cute snuggly teddy bears and dime back novels to sad sops like you. A marketing ploy. Not a reality. Fuck Plato for being the first to sell the idea of soulmates, and fuck Billy too. Billy Johnson was a cruel heartless asshole who fucked your best friend. And in one day you lost two loves, one romantic and one platonic. In turn, you gained a distinct hatred for romantic concepts and a world-weary view on relationships, waiting for the other shoe to drop every time you encountered someone new.

   You dated again after that, but now at the young age of twenty-six, you've decided that it's time to give up. Or maybe you gave up after Billy. You can't say you've ever actually given it a real try after that if you're being honest. You know when to call it quits. You refuse, absolutely refuse, to be a corporate sellout. And your feelings are in no way shape or form reflective of the animosity at being broken up with by Johny last week because you were too 'sarcastic' in the middle of your vacation to Busan. Too sarcastic your ass. You'll show that motherfucker sarcastic. God, sorry, you're getting off track here. Where were you again?

   Ah yes, love is for apparently everyone that isn't you. So you'll just be a cat lady. An affection earned entirely by ear scritches and feeding them. A reward system that makes sense. You take care of them and they tolerate you. Now that you understand. That makes sense. Why in the ever loving fuck would you try romance again when instead you can have a mutually beneficial understanding with something as cute as a cat that can't tell you 'I think you're a bitch' in a language you understand? Fuck Johnny, and Billy. And every other man for that matter.

   You're ruminating in anger as you order your coffee, eyes staring straight into the young and timid barista as you slap down the change. Poor kid, it's not his fault but today you just hate the world. You try to smile but you're pretty sure that just scares him more if the way his eyes go large and round in fear is anything to go by. Christ, you need to work on your people skills. And you're totally not thinking that because of that dick weasel who you've decided will no longer be named.

   Normally once you get your caffeine fix you're in a much better mood, but today the only thing you want to do is karate chop your own throat. Or maybe just play Red Dead Redemption 2 and kill a bunch of people in a completely legal way. Not online though, you really don't need another 13-year-old boy slurring about how much girls suck unless you want to unleash the crazy bitch inside of you to the point of no return. But unfortunately, you have bills to pay. Caffeine fixes to afford. Student loans to pretend you'll someday actually pay off except interest is a bitch. Which means going to work. Normally something you love, but today you're really not in the mood to edit another shitty sci-fi story where the physics of breasts go beyond the dudebro fedora lover that wrote the shitty thing.

   Be an editor they said. You love books they said. You'll be great they said. They hadn't warned you that being an editor at a major publishing house still meant reading through a painful amount of crap writing that you would, in turn, make all pretty and nice and somewhat more presentable garbage for public consumption with no acknowledgment or credit for all the hours you spent trying not to bash your screen in with your face. At least you were close enough to walk to work.

   You grab your piping hot venti quad shot vanilla latte (with soy) as you go back out into the frigid air. Your eyes are cast down on the pavement, trying not to bump into too many of the zombie state morning foot traffic as you make your way into the office. At least you have an office of your own, a salvation of peace and quiet away from prying eyes that allows you to wallow in self-pity safely. The rest of the day goes by in a blur, your normally somewhat antisocial personality becomes far more present as you hide away from even your beloved breakroom coffee pot to avoid too many interactions. You just knew that you would end up running into Susan. Nice gal, but she talks way too much and she set you up with Johnny no wait, the douche canoe. You forgot he must never be named again. The last thing you need is her bringing up how he dumped in you in the middle of your vacation.

   You're also the last one to leave tonight. For someone who didn't really want to step foot into the building, you sure do seem to be having a hard time getting out of here. But there are deadlines to meet and your vacation meant that there's a pileup of work that needs to be done. That and you really don't feel like going into your empty apartment to binge watch on Netflix while you host another internal pity party.

   By the time you're finally out the door and into the freezing winter night, you can feel exhaustion seeping deep into your bones. Or that might just be the joint pain that this super shitty winter is causing. That's another thing the world lied about, joint pain isn't just for old people. It's apparently also for future cat spinsters who hate everything no matter their current age. Your head is stuck on the last chapter you were editing, trying to make sense of how exactly you might be able to convince the author to scrap the whole damn thing politely as your nose picks up on the smell of a cigarette wafting over. Your stomach rumbles, brain shutting off as fingers twitch. God, it's been two years since you stopped smoking but it smells so painfully fucking good right now.

   Your face whips up as you see the small trail of smoke wafting over to you. It's the guy from the tattoo shop, Min fucking Yoongi. You should've known. The guy is hot you'll give him that. Eyes just sharp enough to give him that bad boy image when paired with his full sleeve tattoos and the crawling cherry blossoms on his neck. The chronic scowl that says 'try me' in a way that oddly makes him hotter. Hair that looks like he spends way too much time on usually. Today however he's decked out in a beanie and black leather jacket with pants just tight enough to make you wish he would turn around and walk away. But in the last year since you've unfortunately gotten to know him you know that he's every bit as snarky, bitchy, and firey as you. He's also as much bite as he is bark, although so far you've never been the one he's pointed his bite at.

   "(Y/N), I see you were working late again." He takes a lazy drag on his cigarette, eyes staring straight through you as his lips quirk up into a smirk.

   "Yoongi." Your eyes narrow in on his, fingers twitching at your side as you bite down the incessant desire to beg for a cigarette. You won’t break, especially not in front of him. Just because you’ve had a series of bad days doesn’t mean you actually need that cigarette.

   "Jesus, what's wrong with you? You seem even bitchier than normal. I guess this cold snap we're having is because the ice queen decided to control your body."

   "Har-har-har little man." He bristles at the jab and you can't help but cackle internally at your small victory (pun completely intended.) "No for your information the world is a cruel, evil bitch and yet again I fell for its corporate seductions and evil capitalist ploys."

   "Right, I'm going to nod my head and pretend I understood what that meant just so you don't kill me. Hey, so are you ever going to get that tattoo or not?"

   You reach into the trenches of your memory, recalling months ago on a particularly good day when you told this same tiny Satan that you wanted to get a tattoo. He had seemed oddly impressed that you wanted a snake on your upper thigh and all was well until he told you that he pictured you wanting some shitty positive statement, most likely placed on your collarbone or ribcage and adorned with little doves or a dreamcatcher or some other shit. Bleh. That's when he first learned that you are possibly insane and most certainly a bit of a bitch. It's all been downhill with him since, each run in turning into a battle of insults.

   He stubs out the little remaining part of his Marlboro before gesturing to the warm shop. "I've got an opening to do a consult if you wanna talk about it more."

   Perhaps this is it, maybe this is what you need to do. Something different. Something that doesn't include your usual routine of wake up, caffeinate, work, work, work, and Netflix binge all in between minor anxiety driven breakdowns. Besides, it's just a consult, not the actual tattoo. "How do I know this isn't an elaborate plan to eventually see me half naked?"

   Yoongi rolls his eyes as he opens the door to the shop, glaring at you as he speaks slowly. "You might be hot, but I have a feeling you'd be the type of girl to try to peg me with no lube. I prefer cuddling. Trust me, I'm not interested in getting you naked and seeing where it goes." You're thrown for a loop at that one, shuffling slowly behind him as your brain tries to make sense of it. You know you should be offended that he seriously thinks you wouldn't use lube, but Yoongi likes cuddling? The guy who scowls at life itself? The guy who you've watched physically throw out a neo-nazi who wanted a tattoo? The same guy who rides a motorcycle and refuses sugar in his coffee because he likes it as bitter as his very soul? Man, life is really fucking weird.

   You follow behind him tentatively, shocked to hear rather calm hip hop station on. Maybe you stereotype too much but you pegged him (pun not intended this time) as a Lamb of God kind of guy, definitely not a Dean and PH-1 fan. He takes you over to his office, gesturing at a free seat before he sits down at his desk. Every surface is covered with intricate artwork. From Japanese style tattoos to Sailor Jerry flash pieces to pops of dystopian Disney paintings. "So, you still thinking about doing the same thing?"

   "Yeah. Red Belly black snake. I'm thinking upper thigh/hip area." You stand up and move your coat to the side to point to the area.

   "That's a good sized piece. Have you thought about adding anything more to it? Maybe some hyacinths on the left and right of the snake, I'm thinking in maybe a pale pink so it doesn't offset the red in the snake too much."

   "You know what a hyacinth is?" You snort slightly, glaring back at him when he leans onto his elbows to shoot a look that he's probably hoping will kill you.

   "I'm a tattoo artist. Do you know how many fucking flowers I have to draw every day? Swear to god I should open up a flower shop next door and make a killing with my amazing arrangements." This time you give a full-blown laugh, shocked to hear him mirroring quietly. In all the time you've kinda sorta known him you've never heard him laugh. It's nice, deep, and the gummy smile he gives has your heart doing little flip flops that you absolutely refuse to analyze.

   You take just a beat too long to look at him, your head tilted slightly as you mentally murder the lone butterfly that has survived all of the anger you've culminated in the last few years. "How about a peony instead? I think it would look better."

   "We can do that. With the size you're looking for and all the color work I'd guess that we're looking at at least 6 hours if we want to make sure it's done right. We can split it into two three hours sessions. I charge $200 an hour so you're looking at at least $1200, but you might want to be thinking to around the $1600 range just to be safe. I also require a $300 deposit usually just for a consult and another $300 later but I figure I can always hound you if you don't come in." He opens up his computer, clicking away for a moment before adding, "I have enough time to get started this Friday night if you want? At 8:00."

   "Gee thanks for the trust. Yeah that all sounds good, I'm down."

   He nods quickly, hands grabbing at some paper as he starts making drafting up some rough sketches. You try not to invade his space as you look over the paper, brain desperately searching for a small talk topic. God, you've always been bad at this. "So...how long have you been a tattoo artist?"

   "Well I started my apprenticeship right out of high school at 18 so 10 years total, but as an actual artist only about 8 years." Interesting, so that would make him two years older than you. For some reason, you feel a need to put that in one of your mental files. "What exactly do you do at that giant office building down the street?"

   "I work for a publishing house in there as one of their many editors."

   Yoongi snorts, nodding his head as he keeps sketching away. "Yeah, I can see you working with books. Your creative insults suddenly make so much more sense."

   "I'll take that as a compliment." You lean back into your chair, taking in your surroundings a little more closely before focusing unabashedly at the man before you. His tattoos are on full display now that he's taken off his jacket. Almost all are black and white with small splashes of reds and pinks laced mostly on his neck where cherry blossoms fall delicately off a branch. His eyes are cast in complete concentration, lower lip bitten as he works. There's something painfully sexy about the image. You almost want to burn it into your brain to use for late night consumption.

   You aren't sure how long the two of you sit there in silence, but it's comfortable. There's something soothing about listening to the way his markers glide over the paper as soft music, buzzing tattoo guns, and chatter filters in fuzzily through the closed door. You can feel yourself finally start to relax, all of the earlier rage and grudges held at the world slipping away momentarily as you enter a near-meditative state just watching him work.

   Finally, he glances up, a smile on his face as he pushes the paper over the desk to you. It's beautiful, a little rough around the edges without the finishing touches but it's better than anything you thought of. "Wow, Yoongi this looks great."

   "It's just a rough drawing. I still need to work on some of the other touches but if you're good with that I'll get started on making the transfer later this week."

   "Yeah..." You words are quiet as you look at the picture, elation growing in your heart. You might turn into a cat lady, but at least you'll be a badass one. "Okay, so seriously though do you want me to put down the deposit now? I have no problem with that."

   "Nah, don't sweat it. Oh, but I do need your full name and number to actually book it. And don't give me some shit about this being a ploy for your number." You roll your eyes before giving him the information. Standing up slowly when he opens up the office door and leads you back out to light snowfall. "Alright, see you this Friday (y/n)."

   "See you Yoongi. Thanks again." As you turn back to send a smile something painfully familiar stirs in your brain when he flashes that gummy smile and sends you on your way.

---------------Friday----------------

   By the time Friday rolls around you've been through a whole litany of emotions. You're of course excited about the tattoo, that's not the problem. No the source of all evils is Min Yoongi. Sexy. Witty. Can handle your sarcasm. Enjoys cuddling. He's plagued your thoughts, gummy smiles invading your daydreams and inky tattoos hovering over you at night. It's been a long time since you've actually crushed on anyone. Dating as an adult is an entirely different experience. Usually, you know someone who knows them or met them on tinder and you're just praying that they aren't a secret serial killer and that you share enough interests to talk in between getting railed while praying for an orgasm. At least, that's been your shitty experiences anyway. You know that it isn't always the case considering that just about all of your friends have gotten magically engaged or married recently. But Yoongi? There's something about him that stirs up all of your previously assumed dead thoughts on love. All of the secret romantic pinings combines with lust in a painful swirl but luckily the thoughts you have of him are usually fleeting.

   You step forward into the tattoo shop after grabbing a bite to eat, two warm cocoas in your hand as you try not to freak out that the big event is finally here and you'll be face to face with tiny, sexy, tattooed satan yet again. The man behind the counter looks over at you, and you can't help but wonder for a moment if being really good looking is a requirement to work here. Deep dimples, sunkissed skin, glasses perched on his nose.

   "Hi, do you have an appointment?" You shake your head yes, staring at the floor for a moment before finally squeaking out that you're there to see Yoongi.

   "Ay, (Y/N)'s here!" He shouts out towards Yoongi's office and you see him strolling out just a moment later.

   "Jesus Joon, you've been spending too much time around Hobi. I think the whole shop could hear you." Yoongi steps around the desk eyeing the other cup before you hand it out to him.

   "It's just cocoa, I didn't lace it. This time. Also, it's made with soy milk." You can hear the man called Joon laughing in the background as Yoongi slowly grabs the cup and squints at it before taking a tentative sip.

   He gives a small nod that you assume is to signify satisfaction before he starts walking over to a curtained-off section in the back. "You ready to get started?"

   "Yep, all ready!" You take a sip of the cocoa and sit down on the tattoo chair slowly.

   "Alright, just check over this transfer and let me know what you think before you undress so I can put it on." You look over the image, heart warming up slightly at the brush of his fingers before you finally nod a silent affirmation. "I need words babe, is it good or not?"

   You can feel yourself bristle at the tone, sighing wearily before you finally bite out, "Yes, babe, it's perfect."

   "Cool. I'll leave you to get undressed, I'll be back in just a moment." The one shitty thing about the placement of your tattoo is that it will require not only pants to come off but underwear too. Before nerves can take over you strip quickly, laying back down on your side before you can think about it too much. Getting undressed faster than you can sneeze was probably a bad idea though because now you're forced to just sit there with your ass cheeks freezing and mind shutting down while you wait for him to come back. After a minute you hear him announcing that he's coming in before opening up the curtain.

   Your eyes are trained on the floors. Jesus, you wish you could get your tiles to glisten the way their's does. They must mop a thousand times a day, you can't even see a speck of dirt in the grout. The sound of him clearing his throat has you jolting a bit before turning around to glare at the sound of his laughter. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just going to disinfect the area and put the transfer on then I'll have you take a look and let me know what you think of the placement." You decide to go mute apparently as your only response is a feeble thumbs up before quickly turning to resume your ever so interesting study on what floor cleaner they use. Probably Fabuloso.

   You force yourself to stay stock still when you feel his warm hands on your hip as he cleans the area and peels the transfer on before he gives a light tap to your thigh. "Alright, take a look." With all the grace of a hospice patient you slowly swing your legs off and walk over to the mirror, trying to not pay attention to the fact that you're awkwardly half naked in front of arguably the hottest man who's admitted he enjoys cuddling before you finally relax at the sight of the transfer. "Man, this is going to look rad. Alright little satan, do your thing!"

   "Little Satan? Really? What happened to all your usual creative bitchiness? What was it you called me that one time?"

   "Oh! Degenerate Malfoy with a nicotine problem? Or was it wannabe colon inspector?"

   "Neither actually, it wasn't even something you called me now that I remember it. You once told me 'Ah I see the fuck up fairy decided to mess with my life and force me to see you yet again.' That's a good one by the way, I've used it a few times."

   "Glad I could help, but I wish I could copyright it so you could pay me the rights to use it." You try not to get too nervous as you hear him slip on his gloves and the needle buzzing ominously behind you. The pain won't be that bad right? "Relax, you'll be fine." His voice for once isn't laced with sarcasm. It seems that even the formidable Yoongi has a professional voice that he employs occasionally.

   After what feels like ages filled with anxiety-ridden thoughts you feel the needle prodding away, moving quickly while leaving tingling and ever slight burning sensations in its wake. It does hurt, but not to the point of being unbearable. "See it's not so bad, scaredy cat." You resist the urge to turn around and pummel him in his annoyingly handsome face.

   "If you weren't tattooing me right now I'd choke you out."

   "Kinky, but I prefer a chick to at least buy me a drink first."

   "Already did jackass, the cocoa remember."

   "Huh, you did didn't you. Okay, well it's still off the table for you. You'd probably keep going until I actually died."

   "Hell misses it's little satan though, I'd just be helping you reunite with all your friends."

   "Do you have a snarky remark for everything princess?"

   "Nah, depends on the day and the person. You're a special one Min Yoongi, something about you makes me want to bludgeon things."

   "Oh, what a sweet compliment. Isn't that how people feel when things are too cute too?" You don't even need to look over to know that he's smirking as you flip him off.

   "Or annoying." The rest of the three hours the two of you spend going back and forth with each other to the point that some of the other artists passing by started to call out their two cents in. By the time you're done, you have the outline complete and some of the black shaded in. The rest will be done in just two weeks time at his next opening.

-------------2 weeks later-----------

   Oddly enough for once, you haven't seen Yoongi outside during his normal smoke break time when you leave work for the last couple of weeks. You also haven't seen him getting his normal disgusting black coffee either. Not that you've been looking for him. Okay...so maybe you have. There's just something about him other than the really good looks you like. In one sense it's almost like walking on a blade the entire time you're with him, never sure when he's going to make a jab. On the other hand, he's also easy to talk to. In a way where everything is oddly comfortable even with this underlying lurking sexual tension. Or maybe that's just in your head. Maybe there's no sexual tension and it's just been so long since you last had a good lay (the dingleberry boy who shall not be named was terrible) that you're starting to hallucinate. Which is a rather real possibility.

   This time when you walk in with another cocoa it's with far fewer nerves. No, you're ready for the battlefield and only tremble ever so slightly when you have to face him with a bare ass in his face.

   "Alright sunshine, let's finish this bad boy up." Is all he states before he gets right into it, ever the professional. By the time he's finished, you're 110% positive that you were just imagining the sexual tension because his eyes don't even wander as you check the tattoo in the mirror. Which is a good thing right? Because you're supposed to be on your fast track to nundom not trying to bag the super hot tattoo artist who works near you.

   There's a bizarre sinking feeling in your heart though when you realize the tattoo is done and you won't be able to see him for extended periods of time on such a good excuse. An expensive excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. Now, however, with your beautiful, intricate, and very sore skin you'll have to go back to happenstance run-ins. You think that maybe, just maybe, if the somewhat hollow looking smile he gives you when you leave is anything to go by that he doesn't really want it to end either. But that's probably just the few embers of hope remaining in you that needs to be crushed out.

--------1 month later---------

   You've spent another night overworking yourself. This time there wasn't really a good reason to either. You're not only on schedule but way ahead and yet you've decided to just keep busting through work until dusk begins to fall and the shitty flickering streetlights by you turn on. Almost every night for the past few weeks you've been working longer days and as much as you hate to admit it it's to try to keep yourself from wallowing too much at night about your impending lonely doom. Tonight will be different though. Tonight you'll ruminate and bask in the fucked up world with your dear old friend Irene as she's finally decided to have a night away from her obnoxiously good looking fiance Taehyung. She might not be able to relate to your doom and gloom sentiments on life but she's always a good friend for a pick me up.

   You set off in the opposite direction of your usual route, winding through the chilly streets until you get to your favorite bar that serves oddly impressively delicious fried chicken. The moment you step in you notice Irene sitting at one of the few tables at the place, glaring at a man who clearly can't take a hint. Marching over you grab the seat across from her before biting off a 'Jesus how much aftershave do you use? Did you put in on your asshole too or something?' Knowing he's now outnumbered, and out bitched, the two of you watch the man leave without protest.

   "You know you really should be careful. People are crazy, aren't you ever afraid that you might get hurt or something?"

   You shrug nonchalantly before sighing at the doe eyes she gives you. "Irene, I love you but I'm not curtailing my inner bitch just because some douche might murder me. There are countless absurd ways I could die, if I have to check myself in fear of that then I just let all those asshats continue being menaces to society without being put in their shitty sad places."

   "So what you're like a superwoman with a bad attitude only you save the world one dick at a time with well-timed insults?" You know that voice, you know that voice all too well. Your ears perk up and your jaw drops open as you whip around to come eye to eye with Yoongi. For one whole month, you haven't seen him even with perfectly timed coffee runs around his smoke breaks. Not that you learned his habitual schedule or anything. Nope. Nothing like that at all. Just coincidence is all. And you just happened to notice he wasn't there. That's all.

   "Yoongi!" You hate the way your voice goes up an octave, excitement making your voice quiver like a little puppy reuniting with their owner after a short separation. You can already feel the heat bursting on your cheeks as his head tilts, eyes watching you carefully before he cracks a lazy smile.

   "Um, (y/n), who is this guy? Do I need to mace him or something?" Irene whispers to you, but just loud enough that as Yoongi steps closer he can hear her.

   "Please don't mace me. I promise, I only bite if you're into that."

   "Hey, watch it, mister. She's a taken woman." Reluctantly you wave your hand over the free seat to invite him over before looking back at Irene. "Irene this is Yoongi, Yoongi this is Irene. Yoongi did my tattoo for me."

   "Oh, you got a tattoo? Can I see it?"

   "We'll definitely get a free round of drinks if you show it off, that's for sure." You can't help but smack Yoongi's shoulder, shocked at the sturdiness of it. Considering how slight he looks you really didn't think that he worked out but now your mind is starting to wander.

   "Yeah well, kind of can't show you in public considering I have to take my pants off. Oh! But I do have some pictures!" You pull out your phone, swiping through until you find one and turning it to show her.

   "Wow, that looks like it hurt. It looks great though you did a good job..." Irene pauses, eyes going wide with panic before she finally adds, "Yoongi."

   "Thanks." He almost looks shy and you can feel your heart breaking. Yeah, typical to have the hot dude fall for your friend and not you.

   "Did you order drinks yet?" At the shake of Irene's head, you're grateful to have an excuse to flee to the bar not rushing to grab the bartenders attention and face falling slightly when he sidles up next to you immediately. The world is a cruel place. You want them to take their time and they're there immediately. You want them there right away and suddenly so do seventy other people. Luck. Or murphy's law maybe. Whatever.

   You huff out a sigh before plastering a smile on your face, "Two cranberry vodkas, please. Tall and stiff." The bartender nods as you slap down a twenty, praying that perhaps he'll at least make the drinks slowly but oh no this man must be one of those bartenders that enters fucking speed competitions because he's sliding both drinks over before you can fucking blink. Unbelievable. The service at this place is just too good and it's making you twitch slightly in irritation.

   Trying not to huff, you grab the two drinks and make your way back to your table. Heart sinking even more at the sound of Yoongi being strangely amicable to Irene. This was not the night you wanted at all. You wanted to get drunk and hang out with Irene and forget about how shitty boys are, not have glaring reminders everywhere about how the capitalist ploy that is romance will suffocate you to death. Okay so maybe you're being a little melodramatic. A lot. Whatever. It's your pity party, you can cry if you want to.

   When you finally sit back down and hand Irene her drink you can't help but guzzle yours back right away, ignoring the acidic burn in your throat and the quirked eyebrow from Yoongi.

   "So...(y/n)...any new boys after Johnny?" Irene refuses to look you in the eyes as she asks, smart enough to sit just out of reach from your possible rage.

   "I refuse to fall victim to the bullshit masquerade we call love yet again. I've called it quits. I'm just going to be a spinster with a million cats who will inevitably be forgotten until my landlord finds that mittens, my favorite cat, has eaten my left asscheek for sustenance after my untimely death."

   Irene bawks, trying immediately to rush into lengthy reasoning as to why you shouldn't stop searching for love as Yoongi nearly falls off his chair laughing so hard. At the end of Irene's dialogue, Yoongi wipes away a stray tear before shooting you a gummy smile. The kind that makes you want to hate him less, but you refuse to. Because that's dangerous territory. Territory you've sworn to never cross again. "You don't actually mean all that bullshit right? Love is natural, it's needed. It's biologically ingrained in us to be social creatures and affectionate."

   "Don't you judge me and mitten's life path!"

   "You don't even have a cat!" Irene looks exasperated as she takes a sip of her drink, silently judging you. "Listen, I get it. You've been fucked over a million times by terrible guys. But that doesn't mean that the whole world is that way." At the withering look you send her Irene sighs, shaking her head but falling mute. You feel a little bad that yet again you've ruined the mood so you try to lighten it up a bit, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.

   "Thanks, Irene. I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know. I've been in a bit of a mood." You bit your tongue from further sarcasm at the pointed look she gives you. "Things haven't been so hot lately. I'll get over it. In like a decade. But you know that's better than never." You can feel Yoongi peering at you, analyzing you from the corner of your eye.

   "Why though? Why are you so convinced that love is such a sham?" Yoongi's words don't seem to hold any judgment or his usual quiet hostility, instead just honest curiosity.

   "Well if they don't cheat on me they always grow tired of me. I'm a bit too much of a bitch for my own good. I should really work on that." You shrug, staring at your almost empty glass as you try to shush the self-loathing thoughts that want to invade.

   "I like that part about you though. You've got spunk doll, it ain't a bad thing. You just need to find a guy who can match it." He smirks at the way you go quiet before leaning slightly into you at the table. "I don't know, I think I'm up for the challenge if you are." He grabs a card from his pocket, placing it next to your cup as he stands up. "That's my cell on there. Text me sometime babe." You hate the way your brain shuts down, playing back the way he calls you babe until all senses fail.

   "You should do it. You know he was asking about you the entire time you were getting drinks?" You feel your heart sink even further at the realization that you judged the situation too quickly before suddenly soaring at the idea that Min Yoongi asked you out on a date. You. Snarky, bitchy you found a match in hell. Capitalist ploys be damned! You'll at least find out if he's cocky for a reason. If you don't chicken out that is.

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

   Later that night after all the alcohol has left your system and you're snuggled up under enough blankets to possibly suffocate you, you find yourself staring at your phone. You entered in his contact almost immediately after he left at the urging of Irene. Apprehension has held you back from actually sending anything though. Your fingers hover over the screen, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you suck in a breath. What have you got to lose?

[You]: Hey...

[Yoongi]: (Y/N)?

[You]: Yeah

[Yoongi]: This is unusual. I'm used to quippy remarks. Don't tell me you've grown soft?

[You]: Fuck off. I'm just confused that's all.

[Yoongi]: What's there to be confused about? You're funny, you have no problem with giving it right back to me, and you have a fantastic ass

[You]: Well that was blunt

[Yoongi]: I'm an honest man [Yoongi]: So listen, about that date, I wanna take you out Sunday

[You]: That's in like a day from now

[Yoongi]: Yeah well I've wanted to take you out from the first time you told me off for smoking on the street. And that time you told me you were going to shove my tattoo needle up my ass solidified it.

[You]: You have some odd kinks sir

[Yoongi]: Is that a yes babe?

[You]: Hmmm....yeah I'll go

[Yoongi]: Great send me your address I'll pick you up at noon

[You]: You aren't going to chop me up in a million pieces and feed me to the fishes right?

[Yoongi]: No I prefer my women in one piece

   You send over your address, butterflies swarming around as you squeal into a pillow before sending him a quick good night. You don't need to embarrass yourself by saying something off the wall as exhaustion starts to set in. Like "I want to kiss your face" or "Fuck me in your office." Yeah, that's not good pre-date material. You need to keep it kosher for now.

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

   You had spent all day Saturday cleaning to keep your nerves at bay. Not that you can really tell much in your closet after you ransacked it. And not that you can tell you went through all of that energy just to pick a simple oversized black hoodie and jeans. It's too cold to go all out anyway. You've been staring in the mirror, double checking your hair and makeup a thousand times as you hear the doorbell chime through the apartment. It's a good thing no one else is around to see you nearly trip over yourself as you slip on your shoes and answer the door. "Hi!"

   Yoongi is wearing his usual black leather jackets, skin-tight black jeans, and cat-like smirk. "Hey. You ready?"

   "Yeah, oh just let me grab a jacket." Pulling one off the rack you shut the door behind you, locking the door before shuffling behind Yoongi. Much to your surprise, he slows down until your right next to him, clasping his hand around yours and smiling as he silently leads you to his car.

   "What, no motorcycle today?"

   "Nah, I figured you'd strangle me and we'd crash. Dieing on the first date just seems tragic. We need to get on date number five at least." He shoots you a wink as he opens your door, shutting it lightly behind him as he jogs around to the other side.

   "So...where exactly are you taking me?"

   "You're a curious little thing today, aren't you? Well at first I was thinking something simple like coffee, but let's be honest that's overplayed and boring. So then I thought about going to an aquarium just so I could make a joke about feeding you to the fishes but then I thought nah too easy. So I spent more time than I'll tell you plotting. And I realized exactly where we needed to go. We're going to the river for a picnic. Something that's oddly ordinary and you'll secretly love but no dude's ever actually done for you. Am I right?"

   You're at a loss. You certainly didn't expect him to think this through to this extent. Honestly, no guy has ever cared this much about a first date before. You figured that only existed in stories and movies at this point. "You're certainly right. Isn't it a little cold for a picnic though?"

   "I have brought plenty of cocoa and jjigae to keep us warm, don't you worry your pretty little head about it." You can't help but fidget slightly, nerves boiling over until his hand rests soothingly on your thigh and you feel yourself melt. Or maybe boil over until you malfunction. But that's something to dwell on at a later time.

   It doesn't take long after that until you pull up at the river. During springtime it's packed, everyone comes out to drink under the cherry blossoms, but right now it's serenely quiet. You're almost the only people in sight save the zealous runners and elderly couples strolling through on their daily walks. When you try to help set up the blanket and food Yoongi refuses, so instead you watch him meticulously lay everything out. Maybe this is a post-season Christmas movie because you swear you can feel your dead cold heart grow as you watch him. It's an oddly domestic feeling. Certainly romantic. Painfully sweet. And for once all of your usual bitter snarkiness has drowned it's self in the river to leave you a heart-eyed mess.

   "Come on, come sit. I told you before, I don't bite unless you're into that."

   "I'm into that, but right now I'd rather have cocoa and jjigae." You watch him pour out your drink as you sit down, carefully handing you the piping hot drink before pulling the still boiling soup out of the basket.

   "Alright, so I figured that being you'd probably refuse to tell me too much out of wariness. So I propose that we play 21 questions. What's your favorite food?"

   "Tofu, in all it's many forms. What's your favorite color?"

   "Black, just like my coffee."

   "And your soul." You duck as he tosses a napkin at your face, laughing at the gummy expression he sends your way.

   "Aish. Okay, next question, what are your hobbies?"

   "Reading and video games. Why'd you become a tattoo artist?"

   "I love drawing, but I especially love the idea of a living canvas. It's just so interesting. Although I hate that I don't usually get to control the outcome of it, some people have god awful tattoo ideas. Most people actually. I'm at least booked enough now that I can refuse those ones without worrying about my bank account too much. Why are you so afraid of love?"

   You weren't expecting that question. You figured he'd keep things easy but then again you should have known better. Of all the many ways you can describe the man before you easy isn't one of them. "Trust problems I guess. I didn't have the best home, parents kicked me out young and we haven't talked since so that's probably at the root of it all. I don't know though, never seen a shrink about it so that's just an educated guess. Add all the boys that I've dated either dumped me or cheated on me and it makes it tough to believe that love, especially romantic love is real. Why do you believe in it?"

   "Because love is the very essence of humanity. The best way to fight a shitty system that tries to keep us all down is through love. It's not power or money or any of that other bullshit they tell us we need. It's love. We all just need someone who understands us. It doesn't need to be a ton of people, just one who really gets us and bam! Everything's good. Sometimes those people come and go, but that doesn't make the love you held for that time discounted. It just means that now you need to find someone else who understands you." He chooses his words carefully at first, but when he sees that you're held in rapt attention he grows passionate. Eyes blazing as if to dare you to disagree. And suddenly you're seeing the world through a different lens. Here you had been chalking romance up to marketing, which isn't entirely untrue but that's just one part of it. But love the way he sees it? To him, love isn't about marketing or money it's just about human connection. And suddenly you're starting to understand that abstract intangible concept. You also realize that what you were looking for wasn't love, but perfection. You didn't want to do all the work, you just wanted all the pieces to magically fall into place for you and gave up when expectations weren't instantly met. "Next question, why'd you say yes to this date?"

   "Because you're hot." You roll his eyes at the exaggerated wink he sends you before eating a bit of the jjigae. "Okay so that was a part of it but mostly I was curious. You're this weird enigma Yoongi. At first, I thought I had you all figured out. Tough dude with tats and a motorcycle who probably has a slew of booty calls waiting for him. But then you said you liked to cuddle and I got curious. And then I realized that I didn't have the whole picture, just a glimpse. Why in the world did you ask me out? And for the love of god don't say 'dat ass.'"

   "Okay but dat ass though." The way he laughs full heartedly, slapping his knees at the sight of your glare almost makes you not elbow him. Almost. But you have a reputation to uphold. "You've just got this thing about you. You're like a fortress. A puzzle. I guess that same idea of wanting to figure a person out is the same reason why I'm so attracted to you. You see at first glance you seem to be just brutally honest, but then when you look closer it's easy to see that you're vulnerable. Fragile. Callous due to a previous naivety that landed you in shit places by the sounds of it. I like that you have spirit, you aren't afraid to tell people to fuck off. But what I like most of all is under that there's this heart of gold. At least if your interaction with your friends is anything to go by you do." Fuck, you think you have something in your eye. It's definitely not your long extinct tear ducts learning how to work again. Nope.

   You can feel his thumb brush a stray tear, hand cupping your face as you automatically nuzzle into the warmth before he clears his throat. "Next question-"

   Before he can finish the question your lips are on his. They're chapped but still soft, plush under yours. And suddenly that tailwind romance you thought was all fake feels so real as a spark of electricity zaps you. Or maybe that's more carnal, but whatever it is it feels so right. As if his lips were made to be against yours. And when you feel him kiss back roughly, hands weaving through your hair as he pulls you in closer you know that he must be feeling the same thing. You're floating. High in the clouds. Weightless. The sound of someone running past finally has the two of you breaking apart slowly. "Right next question, can we do that again?"

   This time there's a fire behind the kiss as your hands grab onto his jacket and his tongue slips into your mouth. This time you know it's more carnal. Burning bright. Passionate. Hungry. Needy. But before it can devolve into public debauchery you reluctantly pull back, blush creeping up your neck as you see his molten brown eyes focused on you in a way that clearly states that he is indeed as dangerous as he looks. At least if your definition of dangerous is sex right out in the open at a very public park anyway.

   "My turn. What's your favorite music?"

   The rest of the date goes by too quickly and you learn about everything Yoongi related and he learns everything about you. You're positive that you've never learned so much about a person on a first date, or hell even by the third. You've learned his birthday, his favorite music, all about his friends, how he actually co-owns the tattoo shop and how that all happened. You've learned about how he came from a poor family and how he makes sure to send a little bit each week to help out on top of the apartment he bought them. Suddenly the $200 an hour fee makes a whole lot more sense.

   By the time you're pulling back into your apartment, the two of you have already planned a date for next Sunday. And as he puts the car in park you can't hope but wish that somehow it was already magically next week. But when he pulls you in for a heated kiss and presses his forehead against yours before sending you off you're too much on cloud nine to pay any attention. You'll have to add that Yoongi is certainly the best kisser you've ever known to your mental file.

-------------1 week later---------------

   Well, it's official. You're nuts. You'd like to blame Yoongi but let's be honest, all you needed was a little help to push you over the ledge. Except the problem is that before you were very sure of life. Completely comfortable with anger, bitterness, and believing that everything inevitably fails. And in some sick twist of fate, his words have been playing back in your head over and over every single day for the last week. Before you thought it was all or nothing. Love was there or it wasn't. You get one shot at true love and if it fails then it never existed. Except now your world is flipped upside down.

   Perfection is a fruitless endeavor. An impossible task. One with zero rewards. And what you've been looking for all this time is perfection. A perfect love. A whirlwind romance. But if it's perfect it's fake. It's all a lie. An elaborate performance. Which is mostly all you've ever gotten, granted usually in short-lived moments but sometimes longer. And when the curtains closed each time you thought, "this show wasn't a real show. I'll go to a better play next door." Except the play was still very much real. A part of you. A part of them. Which means that love is indeed real it's just not always very grand. But when it was there it was beautiful, you were just blind and ignorant in even the good moments. Unaware of the magic in small acts. But with Yoongi suddenly you want to see all the small acts. You want to not just see the show but be a part of it. Go behind the scenes with him. See how this plays out.

   Which is completely fucking nuts. You're already talking about your entire worldview changing and the concept as something as obscure as falling in love with a man you barely know and have only been out on a date with once. It makes you afraid. It makes you feel free. It gives you options. It's like being able to use all of your senses at once for the first time. Except that's scary because there's too much coming at you at once. But it's equal parts exhilarating. You've been through every single possible emotion a person could have every day.

   By the time your second date finally arrives, you're suddenly calm about it all. As if everything is right and the puzzle pieces to life are aligning and maybe just maybe you have a chance to see things differently. And while before you would have rather poked your eyes out than face rejection again this time you just want to see where this takes you. You aren't thinking so much about the end results, rather the journey.

   Tonight Yoongi is taking you out to his favorite record store. While you don't own a record player you can certainly appreciate the aesthetics of vinyl. There's something oddly charming about them, even if it is ridiculously impractical in the modern world of space-saving technology and cramped apartments. Perhaps the impracticality of it is apart of the appeal, however. This time you aren't tripping over yourself to get to the door. But that's because you're standing right by it giving yourself a pep talk. Not that he needs to know that of course. After smoothing down your hair and doing a quick checklist in your head your pulling the door open.

   This time he's wearing an oversized sweater but again the same tight black jeans. The man must have stock in them. Not that you blame him, it looks good after all. "You look great, babe." Heat blossoms on your face as his eyes scan you from head to toe, that signature lazy smile adorning his face before he takes your hand in his and leads you to his car.

   "Still no motorcycle?"

   "Nope, still don't trust that you won't freak out and kill me accidentally. Why? You seem oddly keen on the bike."

   "It just looks fun that's all."

   "It is. There's nothing better than a good ride, and you can take that any way you please." He winks at you, laughing when you scoff and punch his shoulder. If any other guy said that line you would have jumped out of the now moving vehicle, but for some reason when he says it you turn into putty. Maybe it's the charm of being absurdly good looking. Or that tattoos. The bad-boy charm. Or maybe it's because in all his infinite aloof glory he's just Yoongi. Comfortable and confident in his own skin without being sleazy.

   The record store is quiet, playing a selection of upbeat jazz. Your brain is trying to figure out the tune until you finally snap your fingers and softly say, "Giant Steps!"

   "You know jazz? Are you a secret Coltrane fan or something?" Yoongi is giving you that look. The look that says he's clearly analyzing you. Studying you. Dissecting your brain as you speak.

   "Sort of. I dated this guy in college for years, he was a jazz major. His thesis was going to be on Giant Steps, it's been years since I've heard it though. Are you secretly into jazz, Min Yoongi?"  

   You watch him shake his head no as he scans the records before pulling one out. Outkast, ATliens. A great album, one that invokes nostalgia. He quickly puts the record under his arm before he continues searching. "Nah, I'm more of a blues guy myself. Nina Simone. Etta James. Bill Withers. The building blocks to all modern music. At least hip hop, R&B, and all the subgenres of rock."

   "You know an awful lot about music considering you're a tattoo artist. What's the background story on that?" You peruse next to him as you speak, flicking through the music slowly.

   "Once upon a time I wanted to be a rapper." There's something far off about his voice. As if he's reliving the memories. A gentle smile on his lips as he shakes his head as if to push them back into their little file in his brain to not be disturbed for some time. "But I had bills to pay. I'm not complaining though. I love music, adore it. But I love what I do too. It's almost like trying to pick between your two children. You might actually have a favorite, but it changes depending on the day."

   "Let's hope you only have one kid then."

   "Nah, I'm going to have a horde of mini Mins. Take over the world with them and overthrow capitalism. It's my diabolical plan to get housing prices back to normal and get student debt forgiveness."

   "And how exactly do you plan to have this army of darkness? Polygamy? A sex cult?"

   "God that just sounds exhausting. I can hardly keep up with you let alone more women. No, I think I'll actually stick with two children. You know, just so on tough days I can look at one and go 'ah yes today you didn't fuck up.'" You pray that he doesn't look over to see your cherry red face. He in a way made it sound like he's thought about children with you. Clearly, that's not what he means but now your mind is wandering. Mini mins. They'd be cute. Probably slightly evil but cute nevertheless. They might be born glaring though. Or smirking instead of crying.

   "What happens when they both fuck up?"

   "Then I've got you." Fuck, he was implying you. Holy shit. Holy shit. Act natural. Don't look at him. "Ooh look! They have a Frank Ocean Blonde vinyl. Unopened this bad boy is worth a few hundred. Man, I can't believe how cheap they're selling it for." He tucks it under his arm before cataloging through some more. For a short while the two of you work in silence, falling into a pattern that when you stare at one for just a little too long he's plucking it out of your hands and refusing to listen to you protest.

   By the end of it all, the two of you are walking out with a dozen records after learning a wealth of information on all of Yoongi's favorite artists. You also learned that once upon a time his rap name was 'Suga.' Which led to you immediately and passionately singing Sugar by System of the Down quickly increasing in volume until he clamps his hand over your mouth and stares at you with the rage of a thousand suns. Totally worth it though. Especially when the dude behind the counter picks up where you left off.

   Dinner goes by too quickly. You wish you could freeze time, force it to slow so you can languidly explore his world. It's with a heavy heart that you unbuckle your seat belt before leaning over and pulling him into a heated kiss. One that makes your head spin again and proves that the first date wasn't a series of flukes. Nope, Min Yoongi really does have a skilled tongue. When you pull away you can see stars in his eyes, his hair ruffled and cheeks red as he tries to even out his breathing. The most dangerous part about Yoongi is his duality. The way he can flit between sexy to cute and somewhere in between without trying.

------------2 months later----------

   You've lost count on how many dates you've gone on at this point. He's taken you out on his bike finally to go stargazing. Out to plays and art galleries. Sometimes you've just stayed in and watched movies together. You have lunch together at least twice a week now, grabbing coffee together for a short reunion in the mornings after spending all night talking about everything and nothing over the phone. It's as if a time before Yoongi didn't exist. It's comfortable. Oddly easy.

   It's to your chagrin and surprise that you learn that Yoongi wants to take things slow. He doesn't rush you into bed. He's the perfect gentleman. A punk Disney prince, albeit with a sharp tongue. No even after the third and fourth date when you try to heat things up he's quick to pull away and tell you that he doesn't want to rush things. Not with you, he says. He wants you to trust him first. He wants you to be truly comfortable first. He doesn't want you to think that he's only in it for that.  

   You get it. In fact, in a twist, it actually makes things hotter. But the build-up is getting almost painful now. The sexual tension mounting to epic proportions. Your poor vibrator would hate you if it wasn't inanimate. He wasn't lying about loving cuddling. He's also apparently a man of extreme patience because no matter how many times you've felt his hard dick against your ass mid-spooning he's refused to act on it. Or let you. It's left you more than slightly frustrated on multiple occasions. It also wasn't helpful that it, in turn, made you an awkward mess. In fact, you remember jokingly mentioning some gibberish about your starfish quivering to try and crack the tension and for a while you thought he would never let you live that terrible joke down. Starfish, really? What were you thinking?

   What you belatedly realize though is that his master plan fucking works. Because somewhere along the way you started letting down your guards. Somewhere along all your dates, you find yourself falling. Allowing yourself to be human. Allowing yourself to stop fearing love. Allowing yourself to trust. Without fighting it. Without running. It's no longer terrifying. It's no longer something that gnaws at you in the chasm of anxiety.

   And just shy of three months into dating Yoongi you realize that you love him. Love. Abstract. Intangible. Yet not. It's the way he looks at you. The way he holds your hands. The way he thinks about the things that make you tick. The way the two of you try to find joy in the tiniest of things. Marie Kondo would tell you that you've finally found something that sparks joy. But it's not just from him. No, even when he's not around you feel lighter. Freer. Happier. You're still sarcastic. A bit of a bitch. But this time it's no longer from a place of longheld bitterness and pain, rather it's from your twisted brand of humor.

   This realization comes to you as you after hanging out with Yoongi's friends and coming back to his place to just chill and listen to his vinyls. When his thumb soothingly rubs your hand as you curl up into his chest. It's so natural. So right. "I love you." The words come out a soft sigh, muffled slightly into his chest but he hears them loud and clear.

   Yoongi twists, pulling your face up to his. "Did you just say you love me?"

   "Min Yoongi I love you." You don't expect to hear anything back. You aren't saying it for affirmation or reciprocation. You just want him to know.

   "I don't think I've ever heard better words. Say it again." That gummy smile is back. The one that stirs up butterflies. The one that warms your soul. The one that you fell in love with.

   You swing your legs over his lap, straddling him as you stare into his eyes. "I. Love. You."

   "God, you don't know how bad I've wanted to hear that. I love you so fucking much. So much. Holy fuck. I want to kiss you, can I kiss-" Before he can finish the sentence your lips are on his. Soft and pliant under yours, a lingering taste of leftover chapstick and nicotine. It's captivating. Dizzying. It's so easy to get drunk off his lips. His taste. The soft groans that leave him. Tongues intertwine as his hands roam your body before landing on your ass with a firm squeeze. It's messy. Needy. Sloppy but full of passion. As if you're the only cure for each other. Each emotion lingering in the air. Your hips swivel down, grinding against his pants as one hand weaves into your hair to pull your neck back and attach his lips to there.

   You can feel the small bruises blossoming already. Love bites and harsh sucks leave cherry blossoms along your neck, mirroring the pattern of his own tattoo. Quiet moans of need are spilling out, desire pooling into your panties each time his teeth scrape against you. "You, doll, are the hottest thing I've ever seen. I could worship you. Dedicate a temple to you. Can't wait to feel you. God, I want you so bad. I love you so fucking much." Each word spills out from him like a deep moan, reverberating through his chest and chewing them off at the end. A loud mewl of satisfaction leaves you. He loves you. He loves you. You're in love. Over the moon. How could you ever think that love wasn't for you? How could you ever give up? How could you honestly think that you were destined to be a spinster when a man like him wants you?

   His hands claw at your shirt, quick to remove your bra and leave you partially bare. Even with the slight chill seeping in through his apartment you still feel feverish. Each time his calloused hands roam your skin you can feel your temperature increase. God, you've never wanted someone so much. It's almost an out of body experience. Sex elevated off the mortal plane. You swear you might cum just from him touching you at this rate. His lips brush against your nipples before biting down, one hand reaching back into your hair as you arch into the touch.

   "Wanna touch you Yoongi. Wanna feel you." The words come out drunkenly. Wobbly. Laced with honey through your swollen lips. When his grip lets go of your hair you lean down to his neck, pressing kisses around his tattoo, tongue laving at the branch as your teeth scrape against his soft skin. The deep moans hiccuping out of him are music to your ears, urging you on as your grind against him. Desperate for friction. Desperate for release. Your hands toy at his shirt before finally breaking away to pry it over his head. Your eyes dance over his half-naked form, taking in the sight before you. Almost every square inch is covered, ink swirling around in intricate stories. God, you're about the fuck the hottest living canvas.

   His chest is heaving, breathing uneven as the two of you make eye contact again before lips come crashing together and he's picking you up. Carrying you out of the living room and into his bedroom, stopping occasionally to push you against a wall just to latch onto your neck or chest. By the time you make it to the bed, you're sure that for the first time in your life you could actually forgo foreplay. You're so wet that you can feel it seeping through your underwear and leaving a mark on your jeans. He stumbles onto the bed, your head hitting the wall with a loud thwack that has both of you pausing for a moment. "Shit, are you okay?"

   "Mmokay, take your pants off." You rub at the sore spot before reaching up to place a reassuring kiss on his lips. You hold your breath as you watch him strip, dick springing out proudly. Smeared with precum. Red. Throbbing and twitching. "You don't wear underwear?"

   He looks almost bashful for a moment. "It's laundry day actually..." At the sound of your giggles, he takes the opportunity while you're disarmed to unbutton your pants, freeing you from your jeans and leaving you in just your flimsy lacy panties. The mood shifts back again when you see the hunger in his eyes. As if he's staring at a feast. "Christ, can't wait to taste this pussy. Make you cry my name." His hands are shaking slightly as he slowly pries your underwear off, eyes narrowing on the way your juices stick to your underwear finally tossing it off the side of the best.

   "Please taste me, I need you. I can't wait."

   "Who knew you'd be so needy? So quick to beg for my tongue?" That usual lazy smirk is back on his face as he looks at you, hands hooking around your thighs and pulling them over his shoulders. His tongue flattens against your sex before you can respond, a choked moan drowning out your words. Jesus, he's good with his tongue. It moves slowly, languidly against your dripping pussy. Rhythmically. Diving into your folds only to swirl up around your clit, sucking lightly and releasing with a soft pop before going back down all over again. It's when his tongue dips even lower, swirling around your puckered rim that you can feel your eyes roll back and breathing cut off. Two fingers slip into your dripping cunt with ease, scissoring to stretch you. The dual sensation of his tongue on your ass and fingers filling you up has you clenching. Spiraling. Bright white flashing behind your eyes as a silent scream tries to leave your throat. Toes curling, his name finally rolling off your tongue as you chase the sensation, your orgasm consuming your senses. It leaves you dizzy. Panting. A mewling, drenched mess under him.

   Through fuzzy ears you can hear his low voice, "God how do you taste so good? Fuck, I could watch you all day baby girl."

   His fingers move slowly as he watches you return to earth, twitching underneath him at the oversensitivity. You feel so sated, but at the same time, you want so much more. The look in his eyes makes you hungry all over again. You want him to feel just as good as you. You look up with hooded eyes, hand wrapping around his drooling cock as you speak. "I wanna taste you too Yoongi."

   His adam's apple bobs, hands leaving your thighs as he pulls you into another messy kiss. It's almost all teeth and tongue this time, a thin line of saliva breaks apart when you separate. You shuffle off the bed slowly, knees gingerly falling to the floor before looking back up as your tongue swirls around his head before pulling back to lick a long stripe along his prominent vein. You pepper tiny kisses along his base, one hand cupping his balls gently as the other one twists around his base. You envelop his velvety length in your mouth, working slowly into a steady rhythm. Each sigh from him, soft moans of pleasure spurs you deeper. Jaw aching slightly as you try to take him deeper, using your hand to help stimulate the places you can't reach. His hands grip your hair tightly as he reaches past your molars, pulling you off of him with a loud pop. "Sorry love, I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that and I really want to fuck you."

   You gulp at the way he's watching you. As if he's a predator and you're his prey. A feast for the night. You wouldn't have it any other way. He helps guide you back onto the bed, twisting you onto all fours as his hands glide over your ass. "Best ass I've ever seen. God, I've had so many wet dreams over this ass." His hand comes down sharply, the sting bringing a wave of pleasure to ripple through you as it soothingly rubs over. Your thoughts are quickly brought back to the throbbing between your thighs as his cock rubs against your swollen clit. "Please, fuck. God." You're incoherent, words stringing together slowly.

   "What's my name doll?"

   "Yoongi, come on. Fuck me before I bite your head off!"

   "Yeah yeah, we'll see how much sass you have left in you when I'm done." You wiggle your hips impatiently as you hear him spit into his palm, adding lubrication before he glides into you. "Holy shit." He stays still for a moment as you spasm around the intrusion. He's just thick enough to have you crying out in pleasure, just long enough to have you seeing stars as he sinks deeper.

   "Oh, fuck. Move, please move." You push back, sinker further onto him as he stays still before his hands snake around your throat.

   "God, you are so mouthy. And as much as I normally love hearing you talk back right now I really just wanna fuck you." He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, balls slapping into your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. Each movement is harsh, quick, with stamina and vigor you didn't foresee him having. The feeling of his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off just enough circulation to stutter your breathing, has you gasping and rutting underneath him. Fuck, was sex supposed to feel this good? In your fucked out state, you can barely make out the sound of him chuckling darkly behind you. "Look at you baby, already fucked out and I've barely started. Do you wanna cum again baby? Already?"

   "Fuck, please. Don't stop!" Your high pitched begging has him drilling in deeper, his free hand moving off your ass and onto your clit in quick circular motions that has you clenching around him. This time your orgasm is earth-shattering. Loud. Wet. When his hand finally lets go of your throat you face plant into the pillow, legs shaking around him as he keeps moving.

   "You're so beautiful when you cum, did you know that? My pretty baby girl, all fucked out on my cock. Now that's a sight I never want to stop seeing." Another loud smack to your ass has you sobbing into the pillow, moans spilling out as your release gushes around him. "Jesus, how is your pussy so fucking wet? Are you always this wet?"

   "No. It's just for you Yoongi."

   "That's right. This pussy is mine, isn't it? Say it, doll."

   "This pussy is yours Yoongi, fuck. Hold on, I wanna ride you." He stutters, pausing before pulling out so the two of you can shuffle around. You smirk as you crawl over his lap, one hand holding onto his cock as the other grabs his arm while you sink down. You're sure you look a fucked out mess, but so does he. Sweat is making his fringe cling to his forehead, kiss-swollen lips, hickies covering his neck visible even over his tattoos.

   You neck snaps back as you sink down completely, the new angle bringing him right to your g-spot and making your legs shake in overstimulation. You fall forward onto his chest, pulling him into another kiss as you circle your hips in small figure eights. You bite down on his lower lip, pulling it between your teeth as you reach behind you and gently roll his balls in your hand. You delight in the way he groans, eyes rolling back at the sensation. "Keep doing that and I'm not going to last (y/n)."

   "That's the point. Come on, cum with me Yoongi." It doesn't take much in your overstimulated state to get right back to the point again. Hanging over the edge as you dip your hand down to circle your clit, relishing in the dulcet moans from him as the two of you climax together. His nose scrunches up, eyebrows furrowing as he grips at your hips as you ride him into his own orgasm right after your third. It doesn't take long before he twitches inside you, painting your insides white as you slow down. At the feeling of him coming to his own completion you slump forward, your head falling into the crook of his neck as his hands circle your waist.

   "Wow. That might easily have been the best sex of my life."

   "Yeah, that was, wow." Your breathing is still unsteady, legs shaking as you feel him soften inside you.

   "Did you realize you squirted?"

   "Ah, yeah. Sorry to break your heart but that's actually somewhat normal for me."

   "God that is so fucking hot." You laugh into his neck, exhaustion taking over as you sigh. "You know, the first time I ever saw you I knew. I just knew. You were all sass and fire, and I just knew that you were it. You were the one."

   You wish you could reciprocate and say you thought the same thing when you first saw Yoongi, but you suppose it's better late than never. "I never would've guessed when I first met you that you liked cuddling, or saying such cheesy lines, or absolutely hated scary movies."

   "Yeah, but you love that about me."

   "Yeah. But I'm pretty sure I just love everything about you Min Yoongi."

   "You know, when you say my full name like that I get oddly turned on. Do you think you're up for a round two in like, half an hour?"

   You really should say no, you really just want to sleep. But just the thought has your mind spinning. Lord give you strength because you're going to need it, or at least better stamina, to last in survive this man.

   You never would've guessed that love could feel so right. So natural. So normal. It isn't always a crazy spark. It isn't all fire and passion, even though it certainly has its moments. No, it's softer. Gentler. It grows and evolves with you. It changes. It takes work. And the two of you do somehow make it work. Even after moving in and trying to learn how to love someone when there's only one bathroom. Even after you get married and fall into a routine. Even after you get pregnant and go a smidge hormonally insane both times. Even on days when both of the kids drive you batty. Even when they leave home and leave you with an empty nest all over again. Because love is something beautiful. It's something innate within us all, it's just a matter of both parties wanting it enough. Working at it enough. And whenever anyone asks you what love means to you it was simple from that day forward. Min Yoongi.

[eroticcannibal]

Please stop telling people to “just do CBT”

CBT, like medication, can be valuable and life-changing to an individual. And like medication, it can also be devastating if it’s not the right treatment to you. It seems a lot of people seem to think that because it’s accessible and you can get free PDFs online, that it’s safe to just hop on any post and tell complete strangers to try it.

That is dangerous and irresponsible behavior. 

CBT is suited to those who are having trouble specifically with their thought patterns around things that do not justify those kinds of thought patterns, to the point where it impacts their life. CBT is not suited to just anyone having problems with their mood or anxiety or their thought patterns. And yet it is frequently pushed on people by strangers, by doctors (because it is relatively quick and cheap, thanks capitalism!), even forced on patients who aren’t suited to the treatment, causing worsening situations, even trauma. 

I can’t link to any of the wonderful conversations I’ve witnessed in private groups by those harmed by CBT, unfortunately. To summarise, I have seen fair comparisons to ABA, gaslighting, victim blaming, brainwashing, neglectful parenting that dismisses the feelings of the child (have fun with that one if that’s the source of your problems), grooming the patient to be receptive to coercion and institutional abuses, But from my own perspective as someone who had to stop CBT before I killed myself as a result of it, HERE is some highlights of the more damaging parts of a typical CBT workbook (and there's some great contributions in the notes). For those with issues caused by abuse or oppression or other situational factors, CBT becomes gaslighting. CBT is routinely weaponized against the oppressed and the abused, when our understandable reactions make others uncomfortable. CBT is used to make us into “good victims”, who don’t hurt or cry or complain or blame anyone. CBT is a therapy that can sever the connection between a person and themselves, it can be compassionless and cold. Not to mention that CBT inherently shifts the blame for feelings and behaviors entirely onto the individual rather than acknowledging the true role of triggers. 

In addition to this, CBT and how it is implemented is not only criticized by those harmed directly by it, but by professionals too. 

“this model appears to confuse the symptoms (i.e., negative self concepts) of depression with its cognitive causes...  In many cases, clients' appraisals and reports of their negative or distressful experiences are quite rational, realistic, and accurate. For example, their experiences of sexual or physical abuse at the hands of another or the tragedies of their loved ones have left enormous scars in their life. In such circumstances, cognitive-restructuring exercises, with their emphasis on reframing reality and not on changing it, do not deal with the true problem...  research has shown that positive self-evaluations may be dysfunctional and maladaptive...  the self-focused cognitive model puts a strong emphasis on examining the association between negative thoughts and mental dysfunction, but it has not answered the question of why individuals choose to focus on their negative attributes when the positive evaluation of the self is more accurate. “

“ Opponents have frequently argued that the approach is too mechanistic and fails to address the concerns of the “whole” patient...   the specific cognitive components of CBT often fail to outperform “stripped-down” versions of the treatment that contain only the more basic behavioral strategies... patients with major depression improved just as much following a treatment that contained only the behavioral strategies and explicitly excluded techniques designed to directly modify distorted cognitions... “

“Some critics argue that because CBT only addresses current problems and focuses on specific issues, it does not address the possible underlying causes of mental health conditions, such as an unhappy childhood...  CBT focuses on the individual’s capacity to change themselves (their thoughts, feelings and behaviours), and does not address wider problems in systems or families that often have a significant impact on an individual’s health and wellbeing. “

“ Seek a therapy referral on the NHS today, and you’re much more likely to end up, not in anything resembling psychoanalysis, but in a short series of highly structured meetings with a CBT practitioner, or perhaps learning methods to interrupt your “catastrophising” thinking via a PowerPoint presentation, or online...   CBT doesn’t exactly claim that happiness is easy, but it does imply that it’s relatively simple: your distress is caused by your irrational beliefs, and it’s within your power to seize hold of those beliefs and change them...    Our conscious minds are tiny iceberg-tips on the dark ocean of the unconscious – and you can’t truly explore that ocean by means of CBT’s simple, standardised, science-tested steps...  Examining scores of earlier experimental trials, two researchers from Norway concluded that its effect size – a technical measure of its usefulness – had fallen by half since 1977...  For the most severely depressed, it concluded, 18 months of analysis worked far better – and with much longer-lasting effects – than “treatment as usual” on the NHS, which included some CBT. Two years after the various treatments ended, 44% of analysis patients no longer met the criteria for major depression, compared to one-tenth of the others. Around the same time, the Swedish press reported a finding from government auditors there: that a multimillion pound scheme to reorient mental healthcare towards CBT had proved completely ineffective in meeting its goals...

 A few years ago, after CBT had started to dominate taxpayer-funded therapy in Britain, a woman I’ll call Rachel, from Oxfordshire, sought therapy on the NHS for depression, following the birth of her first child. She was sent first to sit through a group PowerPoint presentation, promising five steps to “improve your mood”; then she received CBT from a therapist and, in between sessions, via computer. “I don’t think anything has ever made me feel as lonely and isolated as having a computer program ask me how I felt on a scale of one to five, and – after I’d clicked the sad emoticon on the screen – telling me it was ‘sorry to hear that’ in a prerecorded voice,” Rachel recalled. Completing CBT worksheets under a human therapist’s guidance wasn’t much better. “With postnatal depression,” she said, “you’ve gone from a situation in which you’ve been working, earning your own money, doing interesting things – and suddenly you’re at home on your own, mostly covered in sick, with no adult to talk to.” What she needed, she sees now, was real connection: that fundamental if hard-to-express sense of being held in the mind of another person, even if only for a short period each week.“I may be mentally ill,” Rachel said, “but I do know that a computer does not feel bad for me.”...    

In the NHS study conducted at the Tavistock clinic last year, chronically depressed patients receiving psychoanalytic therapy stood a 40% better chance of going into partial remission, during every six-month period of the research, than those receiving other treatments...  Alongside this growing body of evidence, scholars have begun to ask pointed questions about the studies that first fuelled CBT’s ascendancy. In a provocative 2004 paper, the Atlanta-based psychologist Drew Westen and his colleagues showed how researchers – motivated by the desire for an experiment with clearly interpretable results – had often excluded up to two-thirds of potential participants, typically because they had multiple psychological problems...  Moreover, some studies have sometimes seemed to unfairly stack the deck, as when CBT has been compared with “psychodynamic therapy” delivered by graduate students who’d received only a few days’ cursory training in it, from other students...  But the most incendiary charge against cognitive approaches, from the torchbearers of psychoanalysis, is that they might actually make things worse: that finding ways to manage your depressed or anxious thoughts, for example, may simply postpone the point at which you’re driven to take the plunge into self-understanding and lasting change. CBT’s implied promise is that there’s a relatively simple, step-by-step way to gain mastery over suffering. But perhaps there’s more to be gained from acknowledging how little control – over our lives, our emotions, and other people’s actions – we really have?...        

Many neuroscience experiments have indicated that the brain processes information much faster than conscious awareness can keep track of it, so that countless mental operations run, in the neuroscientist David Eagleman’s phrase, “under the hood” – unseen by the conscious mind in the driving-seat. For that reason, as Louis Cozolino writes in Why Therapy Works, “by the time we become consciously aware of an experience, it has already been processed many times, activated memories, and initiated complex patterns of behaviour.”...  This doesn’t mesh well with a basic assumption of CBT – that, with training, we can learn to catch most of our unhelpful mental responses in the act. Rather, it seems to confirm the psychoanalytic intuition that the unconscious is huge, and largely in control; and that we live, unavoidably, through lenses created in the past, which we can only hope to modify partially, slowly and with great effort.  “

“ after completing low-intensity CBT, more than one in two service users had relapsed within 12 months.”

“ the overwhelming majority of CBT still operates through Becksian principles of normalisation, fitting a governmental agenda of producing good, quiet, working subjects who contribute to the economy and shut up. “

“To make this analysis, let’s imagine you are a therapist who is given the task of providing therapy for Ariel Castro (the recent accused kidnapper and rapist) to help him deal with suicidal thoughts over being universally hated and most likely condemned to a life sentence or the death penalty. Now think about the absurdity of doing CBT in this situation; that is, analyzing his negative thought patterns to help him deal with his one-sided thinking so he can better adjust himself to his (not so nice) life conditions.

Even better, imagine you’re given the task of providing therapy for Dr. Joseph Biederman (the key promoter of children’s Bipolar diagnoses) who perhaps is dealing with a severe depression related to negative public opinion regarding the enormous damage his work has done to tens of thousands of children (unfortunately his depression is a made-up scenario). Again you have the assigned responsibility to use CBT to help him see beyond the “negatives” in his thought patterns to find the “positives” in his career in order to help relieve his depression so he can get on with his work with great enthusiasm.

And even more controversial, let’s say you have the task of providing therapy using CBT for President George Bush several months after he launched the Iraq war; imagine for a moment that he has become quite depressed related to the growing mass demonstrations and the grief displayed by the parents of dead American soldiers coming home in coffins on a daily basis. Your job is to help him overcome his depression so he can get back to being The Commander In Chief...

CBT, being part of the “idealist” school of thought, tends to sever the relationship between the specific nature of the material conditions in the environment that gives rise to a person’s thoughts, and leaves it up to the interpretation of the listener (often a therapist) to determine whether or not the environmental source of those thoughts was actually traumatic or oppressive or more positive and humane. “

[Let me be clear, this is not me saying that CBT is bad, should never be used, or that it can’t be helpful to you. If it works for you, use it. It is the attitude that damn near everyone has, laypeople and professionals alike, that it’s a magic fix it that works for everyone, that I am challenging here. I’ve had issues with professionals not believing me recently when I expressed that I was unwilling to go through CBT again because it is a danger to me, because “oh it’s just changing how you think, that can’t be dangerous!”. Recommending particular treatments without a complete understanding of someone’s situation and without the proper clinical knowledge is dangerous, and when it comes to CBT it happens all the time. Recommending CBT without considering situational factors is dangerous, and it happens all the time.]

[novarasalas]

Second Look Review: The Last Stand Pts. 1 & 2

I’m having a bit of trouble with this one. Not just this one, but the rest of this season.

I think it would be easier for me if I hadn’t just been making clips from earlier seasons for my videos. Cause damn, this is a huge departure from when we started.

And I casually throw around the phrase “shit gets real”, but, this time, I mean it.

There’s now a sense of realism that this show only barley hinted at in the first episode.

And it’s just the stupidest thing, but the part that’s messing me up the most is that, now, we’re in the military. Of course I knew what the Galaxy Garrison was. It’s got ‘garrison’ right there in the name. But… I’m not a fan of military stuff, which is a bit hypocritical as one of my favorite movies is “Independence Day”. I suppose it’s hard for me to accept that, say...Lance, the goofy, dork of a child, is part of a military institution. He’s a soldier.

I mean, the Paladins have been through war stuff already. But now it’s Earth war stuff; things that are immediately familiar.

I uh...I have some hang ups. If I’m seeming a bit down on all this, it’s a me thing. The show itself is still good. It’s now just suddenly not my thing.

Let’s get down to it.

Part 1

First thing: I love the Holts, ok? Sam is already amazing, and Colleen is a spitfire. You can definitely see where Pidge gets it. If they could adopt me like, right now, that’d be great.

That said, Sam is extremely idealistic. The first thing he wants to do once he gets back to Earth is tell the whole world what happened to him.

Sanda shuts him down:

Sanda: If we told the world there was an imminent attack, we’d set off a global panic.

That reminded me of this, from Men in Black:

And it’s about aliens too. Nice.

She’s not wrong. At least, I don’t think she would be in our modern reality. My city is one sports championship away from spontaneously combusting...again (thank god our teams all suck). I’d really hate to imagine what would happen in this situation in the here and now.

And Sanda wasn’t wrong about sending signals into space, either.

Sanda: Any contact with alien species needs to be run through the appropriate channels.

In the end, she acquiesces, only for them to make contact with Matt, who tells them to stop broadcasting.  Welp.

Sanda’s in an unenviable position. How would you react if someone told you that space magic is real and now there’s a risk of alien invasion, and a knockoff band of Power Rangers was your only hope? She didn’t excuse herself from the meeting to stand out in the hallway and scream, which is what I'd have done. But now she has to consider the safety and well-being of the entirety of the Earth, without causing mass hysteria throughout the populace.

There are no good answers. Not in real life. And this is uncharted territory for everyone involved.

So they build weapons in secret.

I have to say, I like how they’ve designed their new tech. They didn’t try to emulate Altean aesthetics, and instead stuck with a more conventional, modern Earth look.  

War planes, energy cannons, and a particle barrier. They’re working on their own Castleship. They even have “the best pilots to come out of the Galaxy Garrison in the last year.”

But it’s not enough, and Sam forces Sanda’s hand, telling the Earth about everything. As it turns out that Sanda was wrong, and instead of panic, the world comes together to help save themselves.

And in the end, it’s too little too late.

What a bunch of losers.

We’re not given much of a timeframe on these events. At the beginning of the episode, the screen reads “FOUR YEARS EARLIER”. But where in those four years does the invasion happen? If Sanda had allowed for help earlier on, would it have made a difference?

I’m thinking….no. Sendak knows what he’s doing. The Earth was screwed from the start.

Part 2

So now you’ve found yourself being overrun by alien invaders. Yikes.

And these invaders have this to say about you’re ability to fight them.

Planetary surface reports indicate offensive capability, extremely low.

I wonder if they’d say that about us now. We still have enough nukes to blow ourselves up several times over. Does this future Earth still have that?

They’ve never said much about Earth in the Paladins time, so I came up with something on my own.

I think Earth is peaceful. And I think that because the general scope of the Garrison seems to be exploration, not military power. Of course, they’re not slouch in that department either. I can’t quite explain why they’d still have active military, except that ya know...shit happens.

The overall diversity of the place tells me this, too. If this was strictly military, I don’t think they’d be letting foreigners into their ranks. This is me, assuming again, that Lance is from actual Cuba, and Hunk is from actual Samoa.

Diversity, and bases all over the world. Also, the fact of everyone coming together to protect the planet.

And I think it might be because of this:

Veronica: It’s an older setup from World War III.

That’s pretty damn significant. And it’s the last we hear of it.

Did humanity learn it’s lesson after that? Was this war so bad that everyone found their chill in the aftermath? And is it recent enough to have been within living memory for a sizable chunk of the population?

I’m gonna say yes. Look at the chiefs:

At least four of them at the table have medals on their uniforms.

So my theory is this: World War III happened around 40 years prior. The ones with the medals were awarded these medals for their services during that war. The war was so bad that everyone wised up and stopped all that nonsense. They got rid of the worst of their weapons. Now, the people of Earth have come together to explore the universe.

….hey, why not? We might find out more in season 8. Or we might go right back into fantastic space battles.

Also, I’d like to say that Sanda is also a veteran. She’s just...such a hard ass. She didn’t get that way on her own.

She’s also the one in charge.

Aliens are attacking, Admiral! What should we do?

Why, send in the least effective of our attacking fleet, of course!

Sam: You’ve just doomed those men and women.

And one, in particular.

Yeah, Adam was actually doomed as soon as he was introduced as Shiro’s ex. I’m going to talk more about this at the end of the review, because otherwise it’s just going to throw off the flow.

So, the cities of the world are razed.

Again, I’m having a hard time with this. Military movies, disaster movies….I’ve lost my taste for them. I’d rather spend my time on something hopeful. I guess, in the end, it is hopeful, because we as the audience know that Voltron will eventually save the day. But this lead up is brutal.

So, did you survive the invasion? Or do you think you’d have been one of the ‘able bodied citizens’ taken captive?

I know I’m dead. I’m soooooo dead.

Probably not in the initial attack; they always go for the cities first, and I’m at the edge of nowhere. In the end, it wouldn’t even be the Galra that get me.

It’s my chronic illnesses. If I don’t get my meds, I’m done for. So when I see a story about invasion and people getting cut off and isolated, I get a bit...uncomfortable. And that’s a bit part of why I’m having such a hard time with the back half of this season. In my head, all I can think is “oh god, I’m boned. I’m sooo screwed.”

But who knows? Maybe in this future Earth they can cure what’s wrong with me. Or maybe there’s ways to prevent you from getting sick in the first place. Then again, they couldn’t really help Shiro, so...

….

Auuuggggghhhh!!!

This is bringing me down way too much! I gotta find something great…

Ah! The squad!

The aftermath of season 7 online was a mess. I saw way too many people complaining that adding these four was a waste of narrative. Those people have toe fungus and need to get a hair cut, because the MFE pilots are great. I wish we’d gotten to see more of them.

I made a video of her moments a bit back and talked about this there, but I’ll say it again: I love Leifsdottir, and I love that she’s autistic.

Also: Veronica

Rizavi: I like her.

Same, Rizavi. Same.

I wish I hadn’t read the reviews before season 7. I’d have loved to have gone in blind, not knowing that this is that Veronica, Lance’s sister. I’d have never guessed. She’s so professional.

I wonder if she was like her brother when she was a Garrison cadet. We later see a lighter side of her, and right after that, we see Serious Lance again. Yeah...I’m going with that. I bet Lance entered the Garrison, and the instructors all began lamenting “Oh god...not another one.”.

Also, have you noticed the diversity here at the Garrison? There’s a good split of men and women, and all kinds of varying skin tones. It’s great to see.

This episode does end on a high note, or rather, as high as it can, with a message sent to Voltron with the hope that they get there in time.

And Sam Holt gives a speech.

Earth has been conquered.

We are the last holdout in an evil occupation.

And we must face the facts: our supplies are running out.

They have hammered us and hurt the ones we love.

Our backs are completely up against the wall.

And nothing makes us more dangerous.

We only have enough resources for one last stand.

Regardless of the outcome, if we stand united,

we will let them know, the planet Earth, our home,

will not go down without a fight.

…

I still really like that movie, ok?

---

Now, about Adam.

When I went online after watching the season, I was expecting to hear a bit about his fate, but I never expected all...this. And anything I have to say has already been said better by many other people.

I’m firmly of the idea that the showrunners had nothing to apologize for.

See, like I said, Adam was doomed as soon as he was introduced. He was only ever meant to serve as plot device. Take away the approval for him to be Shiro’s ex, and you’re left with Shiro’s close friend who died at the hands of Sendak. It’s meant to make you feel bad; it’s meant to make you feel unsafe. His death tells you “This is war, and anyone can die.”

But then, Shiro was allowed to be gay. And now Adam wasn’t his roommate, he was his boyfriend.  

The narrative needed someone who was close to a main character to show that war is hell, but not too close as to be excessively cruel to the audience.  The narrative also needed someone to show that Shiro was queer. It’s just how things worked out.

This is something we’ll have to get used to as better representation begins to filter in. There will be missteps, and there will be hurt feelings. But it is progress.

There are good conversations to be had about this. But none of those conversations are happening here.

In the end, Adam was a brave man, who once upon a time loved another man. He died a hero.

In summary:

This was brutal. It actually happened: Sendak has done everything short of destroying the whole of the Earth. I had really, really been hoping that the fight would stay in space.

The episodes were well made, with a great bit of story to be told. But my own issues got in the way of me liking them. Ah, well...it happens.

...

The Garrison is all 70s aesthetic. I don’t like 70s aesthetics...

Next up: The boys are back in town.

[alicezan-ncgred]

Bleeding Red

Preface: I’ve been bitching around the bush of this long enough. So, I’ve been really silent on a bunch of stuff that’s been eating me alive which has made me both inactive and unproductive. I’m going to get straight to the point, starting off with the TL:DR from my post on my main blog. Context: An anon asked me if I was alright because I hadn’t updated in a while.

TL:DR You probably didn’t ask this to hear about all the bad shit of my life so here’s the short of it. No, I’m not doing fine. I will try get next weeks post out on time and I’ll work on making up on the lost posts. Updates will return regularly, ‘ite.

Time for the thick and thin of it.

Insecurity and being shafted: I’m stoic, even at my worst I won’t say anything. I’ll push through regardless of my current condition and since I’ve gone years like this, it’s not hard for me to do. In my real life situation, I’m currently in a place of social isolation. This has lead to a somewhat near reliance on Tumblr to be my social outlet. This present many issues.

The main one is that I’m quite the isolationist. This has only been reinforced by many interactions throughout the entirely of my life. Because of this, I can’t say I’ve ever had anything really more than two friends at a time. While in a way this has helped me express myself so well through writing, it’s come at the cost of social skill. I don’t talk to anyone.

With this kind of issue you could easily imagine that the THREE PEOPLE (four now, but very limited) to ever directly talk ended up in a way shafting me. The first blocked and disconnected with me without warning or reason. At this point we’ve been talking to each for about a month and we hit it off very well and then one day, silence. Never heard from them again. That fucked me up hard when I finally realized what happened.

The second person left during the Tumblr P**n Purge. We were talking about how to contact each other on other platforms and then they stopped responding. I had already given contact to other platforms of which they pinged me in any way. Another person that I trusted massively on here just abandoned me and I’m still hurting from that. Wasn’t fair at all.

Then the third person was someone that I been following for a while. This person is actually the reason that I’ve been putting this off for so long. I don’t want them to see this post but they will. I got an ask from them that ultimately turned out to be misinformation. I said I wasn’t mad but I was. I was so fucking angry about it and I’m still kinda mad, but I didn’t want problems. I still don’t. I just didn’t want them to worry about it. This will come back later.

I try my best to be as inoffensive as possible. The problem with that is that much of the things I believe or enjoy are highly divisive. Hell, even my own identity can be seen as offence. I’m bisexual, non-binary (I’m currently still questioning this. I might actually be gender fluid but in the overall scheme, that’s worse than being non-binary), and nonreligious. I’m in a very religious area so you I’m still “in the closet” about much of this IRL. I though it would better online but with how much people are saying bisexuality doesn’t exist, or that non-binary isn’t a valid gender (or that being gender fluid make you insane and you should be locked up) and all the hate people who say they are this are getting, the very community that’s supposed to accept me, HATES me. I had a bi pride flag icon last year during Pride Month. I never doing that ever again. It was terrible.

I’m trying my best to come out of my shell like I said I would when I made this blog but it seems I’m just crawling further into it. People I think I can trust keep setting me up to fall, people I know in real life won’t ever accept my existence if they knew who I really was, and my own mental health problem and self loathing are eating me alive. But that isn’t the total of it.

Crumbling Pillar: I’ve always ended up in the position where things were thrown onto me. In which no one wanted to do, I was stuck with. Because of this not only do I have a severe distaste being around my family (beyond everything mentioned before hand) but I grew to have a negative out look on everything. This effect is still quite obvious in my writings, especially my poems. Out of the 14 poems on my poem blog @washed-soul​, only one has a happy meaning.

The one happy poem was called dreams. Under a metaphor it talks about how a demon kept me trapped in a dark space. I start to get better and nearly break free before I have a negative relapse back to my old ways. The poems ends with the demon putting a end to itself leaving the nightmare in which it was keeping me in to slowly fade away, letting one crack of light peeking through to become a window to a door until one day I walk free. When writing this poem, I never thought I would find myself rebuilding the nightmare but that’s where I am.

I’m done with holding things together that other people have placed onto me. Because of this, issues have began showing in my private life. Issues that should’ve been solved decades ago are only now being addressed. This change in the status quo of my life has caused many issues in my productive and mood. Between everything else I’m too tired to do anything.

Is that a reason, is that an excuse. No it isn’t but it’s the best thing I got as a reason. I’m doing my damnedest to do the best I can but of course, when it comes to the thing that matter I just fall short. Big fucking whopha my intelligence and capability does me if I can’t use it for anything that means a damn.

Meaningless Triviality: I’m a very emotional person. I’m very strongly bound to my emotions and if everything above hasn’t given it away, my emotions are very negative prone. But it just doesn’t stop there, it goes back into my memories. I can only honestly place 3 happy memories for certain that aren’t either A) a dream or B) me escaping reality through my mind. Besides that, almost all my memories are negative. 

People like to throw around the word Nihilist to describe themselves because today's culture is very, god while I hate to use this word, edgy. For those who don’t know a Nihilist is someone who views the world as being completely  meaningless and reject all religious and moral principles. I very truly struggle with this outlook of life. It’s a daily for me to berate myself saying “just kill yourself” or “I want to die” or just shutting down and crumpling up while say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again. Hell, I did that while writing this. 

I take things very hard, even the slightest transgression. I’m so used to trying to make things perfect and because people have the image that I’m the smart one, the mature one, the capable one, I’m left with the over hanging expectation of excellence. Almost no room for margin of error or being human. Since I’m the silent type, I put up no challenge and work to meet it. Only time I get any praise for anything too. 

I guess as a little self promotion to my main blog, for those that have read the very first few updates of my main blog @the-truth-behind-redacted, or read Defiance’s character sheet, while The Machine and Defiance are separate character, they both share the name Machine. That in part is a reflect of said above expectation. How ravenous and inhuman it can be all under the guise of something human. Those characters are the two sides to the same coin. 

Remember how I said I try to be un-problematical and how I try to avoid any potential conflict. In the first segment I told on how I lied about my feelings just so another person didn’t have to worry over something that honestly, in hindsight, wasn’t even really a big deal. But I also said how it consumed me in anger. I just don’t want to bother anyone over anything. It’s part of the reason why I am writing this post, as some way of a self enforced rehab program to get better. 

This absolute consumption of negative emotion has pushed me into a non human state before. I hit a point of absolute mental exhaustion and in such a self enforced bubble of actual hatred I became completely apathetic. I felt numb to everything. I watched and heard of terrible things happening to people, and felt nothing. I watched people lives crumble before them leaving them nowhere to go and LAUGHED. “Just another worthless pathetic worm on this rotting carcass of a planet being hit with the hard reality that life doesn’t care for them. What whimsical pathetic bullshit they deluded themselves with to think otherwise.” This isn’t an exaggeration on how I thought, this is what I actually thought. Which brings me too.

The Mandatory Sob Story: Roll your eyes everyone and get the tiny violin. I guess in order for everyone to exactly understand the place I’m coming from when it comes to mental health I’ll have to detail my experiences. I have a long standing history with mental illness. I have professionally diagnosed OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, and visual and auditory hallucinations. I take 600 mg of Seroquel a day as well as Amitriptyline when needed. I’m also still currently in therapy to deal with said OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, the visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as Suicidal thoughts, and my Nihilism. There’s a reason to why I’m so god damn familiar with mental illness and treatment plans.  

OCD and Bipolarism run in my family on my fathers side. My Father’s Father had them, my Sister has them, my brother most likely has them (however he refuses to see a doctor because he uses said possible mental illnesses as a get out of jail free card. He doesn’t want to be treated and he has FUCKING ADMITTED IT), my father has them, and I have them. I, however, have the misfortune of having it real bad. I said yes to well over half of all the total symptoms when I was being tested (I don’t remember exact numbers but I remember there being three pages worth of common symptoms) which was very worrying to the doctor. I was currently in an inpatient hospitalization program at the time for both suicidal thoughts and actions, and severe depression. 

On that, my graze in with suicide. Before I went into my first inpatient program I was contemplating suicide. I was sat in front of a mirror with a bottle of over the counter medication. It was an unopened bottle of ibuprofen, 1000 200mg tables. What I planed to do was down the whole bottle with benadryl and die in my sleep. I had the small box of benadryl got from the Kroger pharmacy and a hand full of ibuprofen poured out looking directly into the mirror. My suicide note was sitting on the desk on my room with an online copy on my laptop open.

I sat there for an hour in the dead of midnight complicating my life. I had lost all hope in the world, filled with hatred, anger, pain, and despair. I had no god or after life to look forward too, part way hoping that a Hell existed for me to burn in. I hated myself that much. I was close to taking the first handful before before I caught a glimpse of my own eyes in the mirror. In what was in a weird sudden epiphany I realized that I truly did become what I hated but not for any reason I told myself. I became the very bastion of negativity I sought to fight and rid of in what little friends I did have. That was what set off my path to recovery in spite of the medical system. I guess if people care I’ll make a separate post on that. 

Before I move on, I feel I should explain my history with the visual and auditory hallucinations. It should be no surprise that with everything else above, I also had extreme paranoia that led to me having very bad insomnia. Insomnia is, just like most other medical disorders like Depression, Self-harm, Anxiety, OCD,  Bipolarism, is romanticized to hell. Insomnia isn’t having one nights bad sleep where you got 5 hours of sleep instead of 8.

You know what Insomnia is? insomnia is being physical incapable of sleeping despite not sleeping in 2 to 3 day while your body suffers massive agony brought on by this. Muscle spasms and seizing, difficulty breathing, your eyes feeling like fire ants are eating them, and of course visual and auditory hallucinations. Now I already had issues with visual and auditory hallucinations even when I could get sleep regularly but the combined effects of my OCD and Bipolarism made this perfect condition of Insomnia, Anxiety, Paranoia, with the already added in disposition to hallucinations and I felt like I was actually losing my mind. 

My hallucinations presented themselves in three forms. Disassociation of reality, night terrors, or alterations of reality. Disassociation of reality often were complete black out moments. I would lose any perceived connect to reality and enter an episode of my mind. I can’t remember what they actually were but I do remember what it felt like. Cold sweats, anxiety to point where if I didn’t lock up I would vomit, actual physical pain, mind numbing fear, and intense fatigue. 

The second were night terrors often in the form of horrific “things.” I do remember these and most of them were as best as I could describe, forms of things that were vaguely human and formations of industrial machinery. The most vivid one I remember was of a long lengthy apparition that was for the most part human but many locations of it’s impossible physiology were rebar beams and mechanical sockets. It began when I was about to fall asleep and it was next to my window. The thing was making week groaning and gasping sounds before it violently slammed against my window breaking it then letting out a horrific howl that I can’t describe as it tossed itself out followed shorty after with the sound of bones breaking against the dirt. 

Now that might not seem so bad, exspecally with everything that is in horror movies or games now, but keep in mind that was fucking real to me. It was as real as the clicking of the keys of my keyboard as I’m writing this. As real as the chair I’m sitting in and as real as the wall in front of me. As far as my mind was concerned that thing, what ever it was, actually existed. It took me physical touching my window to make sure it wasn’t actually broken and checking outside to see if there wasn’t a body there. This isn’t the type of thing I talk about lightly. 

Finally there is the alteration of reality. This is very simply but it’s something that fucked with me hard. For very little meaning or warning, I would have trouble interpreting the world around me. My hearing and sight would be warped and there wasn’t any real way to tell what I was hearing or seeing was real or not until the episode was over. The way I got through these was the ultimate fake it till you make it. Obviously, very often I failed and this created issue in my schooling. 

Ending Message: I’ve been in a very bad state for a while now and as it is now, no signs of getting better. I also strongly believe my medications are being to fail me which I’ve been telling my doctor and therapist for over a year now but nothing’s been done. Mainly it’s my Depression but insomnia episodes are beginning and my own paranoia been on the rise. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even look at a creepy image or thumbnail without having a very bad episode. 

I’ve managed to eat something today which was nice but my body is cramping hard. And to possible stave of a possible comment, I’m biologically male. Like I said I’m not in the best head space, or living for that matter. If this gets better, only time will tell. 

[jedimaster941]

A Declaration of Lost Independence

A Declaration of Lost Independence

As we get older, as we live life, like stone eroding under the power of crashing waves, our bodies break down. And as our bodies break down, we become more and more unable to do things. Sometimes not to the standard we once did, and sometimes we lose the ability completely. We lose things that bring us joy, and we lose things that bring us to life. Whether it be slowly or quickly, we all lose our independence. Aging is something, like it or not, we have all signed up for. We will get older, our bodies will break down, and we will lose our overall independence. It’s not ideal, but we understand it to be true.

For Chronically ill people, however, we can lose our independence rather suddenly, and it has absolutely nothing to do with natural aging. If someone aged 78 years has trouble walking, getting dressed, or going to the bathroom, very few would question it. But imagine you are 28 years old and you have the same difficulties. Think of how you would feel. In this article I will discuss the ways in which people with chronic illness lose their independence in the areas of physical, mental, social, and dietary, and the toll it takes on us when the things that we should be able to do becomes out of reach.

*This post features responses from chronically ill patients whom I asked…*

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Physical

Loss of physical independence is the area that most people think about when illness takes over. It is at least the most public. People see wheelchairs, walkers, canes, crutches, and handicapped placards. They are also readily aware when someone takes a little longer to stand up, when they have trouble buttoning a shirt, or their handwriting becomes illegible. If someone gets to know a disabled person well enough they may also become aware of PIK lines, feeding tubes, and colostomy bags among others.

When someone is chronically ill/disabled their bodies are the primary victim of their disease. In one way or another, our bodies are malfunctioning. As my primary care physician said to me once, “We are all getting older, you're a just doing it a lot faster”. (If anyone is curious, I did not take offense, I appreciated that he acknowledged my illness and my lack of certain abilities)

Our independence is very much directly lost in these examples. We lose the ability of climb stairs, walk short distances, wash ourselves, cook food, and one I’d like to discuss a little more, exercise.

Doctors and online experts tell us we need to exercise. I can’t disagree with that. Exercise is important to keeping what we have left tip top. However, when we can’t climb stairs, walk short distances, or wash ourselves, how do you expect us to get the the gym to do some Cross Fit? I know for me, exercise of any kind hurts and has lasting effects. Some of my readers may remember how not long ago I walked a peppy poodle for half a mile and my legs hurt for three days after. This wasn't from being out of shape, this was due of my condition. Yes, exercise, but understand sometimes it's more harm than help.

I used to be a distance runner, a golfer, and could give the best piggy back rides. Now, due to Ankylosing Spondylitis, I can’t do any of that. And believe me when I tell you, that hurts me mentally as well.

Mental

With chronic illness and disability there comes a mental toll as well. Both in the areas of cognitive ability, and depression.

First, let's touch on cognitive ability which will then (as all of these sections do) we will move on to depression.

I imagine many of my readers are already well versed in the words and terminology used in the discussion of chronic illness. However, if you are new to this world, let me share a term that I, and all of us use probably on a daily basis: “Brain Fog”.

Brain Fog is exactly what it sounds like, a thick layer of fog on your brain. You know how hard it is to see through a covering of fog? Now, imagine that fog is in your head and your brain is trying to see thoughts, feelings, and ideas through it. It’s not easy and often things are lost.

Brain fog is caused by pain and the inability to actually shut down and rest. When people go to sleep their bodies and minds go into power saver mode to recharge, refresh, and do diagnostics checks. However, what happens when you drink caffeine, or you eat a big meal before bed? Well, if you can sleep, your body has now been given other things to work on. The caffeine makes your heart work harder, and your body needs to work to digest that big meal. So what happens? You don’t wake up rested because your body never actually got any rest. The same thing happens every night for people with chronic illness, but without the caffeine and steak dinner. In my case, with Ankylosing Spondylitis, my body is always working to fight off a foreign invader known as the lining between my joints. (I guess it’s actually a domestic invader) For most of us, because of constant pain, we can never get comfortable and even when we do sleep, we aren't actually resting. This lack of true sleep causes our brains to process at a diminished rate limiting our abilities to remember, problem solve, and function.

When I go to the doctor, I bring my wife. Not because I need a supportive hand, but because I need a partner and coach to help me tell the doctor what I need to say, and then remember what the doctor tells me. There have been times I have come home from an appointment solo and either forgot what treatment we discussed or, through my fogginess, made up something completely different because I could have sworn the doctor said she wanted to try bloodletting. (Or was it Methotrexate? I can’t remember) Although I love my wife, and I will always welcome her to join me at an appointment, I'm 37 years old, I shouldn't need someone to be my brain while the doctor checks out my body. While I am not depressed about this, this loss of mental and physical independence can also lead to depression.

I used to run, and I loved running. When my health got worse I took up walking long distance. However, only a few short years later, I couldn't even walk short distances without great pain and weakness. I was 34 the last time I walked with any kind of purpose. Far too young to lose so much ability. When I see people out running, or I drive past the local health club with overly large windows, I get sad longing for my glory days. When I watch American Ninja Warrior I’m sometimes heartbroken. Believe it or not, I used to be able to do stuff like that. It’s crushing to think that somebody actually has the freedom to wake up in the morning, pop up out of bed, and then think to themselves “Well, I think I will run 10 miles, shower, go to work, spend an hour at the gym, play with my kids, and then get 8 hours of restful sleep before doing it all over again.” Here I am thinking, “I hope I can get out of bed.”

Chronic illness can take a great toll on our mental state and subsequent independence.

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

Diet

With the chronic illness life, more often than not it seems, comes a list of dietary restrictions. 90% (not actual figures) of life comes from our gut. What we eat and drink. Other than breathing and IV treatments, it’s the only way anything gets into the factory known as our bodies. So, there is much stress put on us by our doctors, friends, family, TV, and the woman on the corner to eat right to better our condition. And not everyone is wrong. There are certain things that improve or worsen our condition. We will listen to the “experts” and try certain things. Excluding things like sugar, dairy, nightshades, and gluten. Or “fad diets” like Paleo, Keto, Vampire, or Atkins.* We might even try Kale! Many of us will try anything if it means we reduce our pain and get a little life back. But, the more foods we give up, the more independence we lose.

Personally this area has been my biggest struggle. Two years ago I went dairy free at the suggestion of a nutritionist, and one year ago I totally cut out sugar. And, I won’t lie, excluding both of those have been fantastic for me! I may not always notice the improvement, but if I happen to slip up on purpose of by accident, I certainly notice then. I am solid and confident in my sugar free/dairy free life, and for the most part I am happy.

However, this does not mean everything is butterflies and unicorns. I still struggle as I’m sure many many of my chronically ill brothers, sisters, and non-binary siblings do. Two examples: My birthday, and the ice cream aisle. On my birthday my co-workers wanted to know what to get me for my party. Typically the birthday treat is cupcakes and fudge. Hello sugar and milk! After much thought, I received the treat of peanuts and pickles. (And I didn't complain) However, it didn’t mean it didn't hurt. My co-workers needed to avoid yummy delicious treats because of my AS. They were supportive, but it didn’t mean I didn’t feel like a party pooper. As for the ice cream aisle, they have dairy free ice cream, and they have sugar free ice cream, but as a friendly store clerk told me, diary free & sugar free ice cream isn't ice cream. I'm out of luck there.

When it comes to dairy and sugar, I have lost my independence. People need to accommodate for me. Oftentimes meaning they might miss out on what they want. When my school does nacho day, frozen custard day, cookie day, etc for staff wellness days, I’m the only one not well. I could tell the people that sorry I can’t eat this, but that opens me up to feeling bad for making them feel bad.

Or when you need to find out if a restruant is accessible. Many would think that with all the handicapped parking spots all places would also be accessible. This is not always true. I have seen places where the "accessible" table is in a door way or up against a wall. The freedom to go to any restaurant one wants is never a guarantee.

When friends want to go out those of us with diet restrictions need to be “that guy/girl”. The one who has hard opinions on what we can eat. Ever stand behind the person at Starbucks who insists on soy milk and Stevia? Have you ever thought “Just take your coffee and drink it! You're holding up the line!” Yeah, that’s us, the ones holding up the line. Doesn't feel good.

We are jealous of those people who can eat whatever they want. Go to any restaurant, order anything off the menu, and even have dessert. This isn't about gaining weight, it's about being able to get out of bed in the morning.

Social

The next topic of how we lose our social independence ties into the three topics above and any others I have not mentioned. Humans are meant to be social. We aren't bears where we can just crawl into our cave and sleep for a few months. If any human crawled into a cave, nobody would be friends with them. Why? Because interacting is one of the standards of human life. We need other people! Sure, there are the mountain folk who go out, kill a deer, make clothing from it, light a fire and live their life in seclusion. (And there is nothing wrong with that) But, most humans need other people to cook our food, make our clothes, work on projects, drive us, and socialize purely for fun. The problem is, for many chronically ill people, getting out of the house and socializing sounds equal to climbing up and living in a mountain.

We are exhausted! Chronic illness takes a lot out of us! Every day can be a struggle to move, breathe, think, and complete other daily activities. Showering can be one of the most difficult activities for some. Doing laundry is pure hell! When most people hate it for the fact they have to do it, for me, folding makes me want to die! Seriously, I don't fully know why, but it hurts so much and takes so much out of me. After doing everything we have to do, we don’t have energy left for what we want to do.

I come home from work, my shoes come off, and I’m done! Very little is going to convince me to put my shoes back on and go out with friends when all I want to do is sleep. Because of this, many chronically ill people are forgotten. We bail on friends two or three times, and they just stop inviting us. But, then we have a good day, we are ready to accept an invite. Do we take it? No. Why? Because, we feel good now, we don’t know if we will feel good later.

Chronic illness symptoms can come in waves. We can have good days (or at least the start of a day) but then we drop. We don’t always know why we drop, but our feelings and mood are in no way guaranteed. So, we don’t risk it. It’s far better to be at home near our bed than 30 minutes away with a group of people you will need to apologize to for leaving early. Declining the invite or simple ghosting is far easier and less harmful to our psyche.

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

Chronically ill patients lose all sorts of independence. We can not truly live free with AS, Fibro, EDS, POTS, Lyme, MS, ME or one of the many other chronic illnesses that totally sap us of life. We are not free do do as we like.

While others wake up and get to choose between running, biking, partying, fixing cars, eating amazing food, and/or playing with their kids. We wake up and.. well.. that's it.

In closing. If you know a person with a disability/chronic illness try to be understanding of their limitations. Don’t give them a hard time when they can't do everything you want them to. Our lives are hard enough dealing with all the independence we may have lost.

*I might have made up one of these diets

[ghostmartyr]

Sometimes I’m scared I’ll never be okay. Not with the health stuff. That... I’ve tried to let go of that, give it to God and all that jazz, and maybe it’s working. But with the rest of me, sometimes I get a look at what’s missing, and oh geez where do you start?

I often say that I don’t have friends. My friends would disagree with the truth of that statement.

The problem is, even if it’s not, strictly speaking, true, it feels most accurate to the situation.

We’re getting a puppy sometime this summer, and one of the number one things I’m excited about is that when it gets big enough, it might like kicking soccer balls with me. An actual, living creature that I can play with.

I talk my parents into going to movies they don’t care about because the alternative is going alone. I’ve gone to a lot of movies alone. If I like them, the second I get home I go online to see if anyone else in the world liked them too.

Half of my mental breakdowns result in me talking to Cleverbot, because it talks back the second I say something. Always. No matter what I say, no matter how horrible it is, no matter what time of day it is, there’s a response.

When there’s a group voice chat I can participate in I drop everything, even things that really need to be done. I watch twitch streams just to hear other human beings speaking live.

Without the internet, I have no one outside of my family and doctors.

My family’s great. They love me, I love them. If I really need something, they’re there.

For some reason I’m not deep enough to figure out, that’s not enough.

I don’t know where the line is between grieving healthily and obsessing. It’s all blurry, and both sides carry a lot of pain. So there are parts of my life I avoid thinking about in any great detail.

A few things creep in, though.

Most people spend their teenage years in school. Months of weekdays, surrounded by people gathered specifically by their age group. Whether they want to or not, they hear dozens of voices as common background noise. Past that, many people have job. The density changes, but for most jobs, other people are a regular occurrence.

That’s really not how things went for me. And you know, that’s not an automatic bad thing. Normal isn’t some magical wonderland that makes everything better, it’s just what’s common.

It’s a little dizzying, though. It’s pretty easy to think, well, I can’t be that alone, I live with human people. I see a whole two people each day, as a standard thing. They talk to me. So it’s not really being alone, right? If we count the staff at doctors’ offices, and people I do Pokemon Go raids with, that’s like, double digits each week.

So it’s such a silly thing to get worked up over. Right?

I don’t know. I need people, and the years spending almost every day alone in my room keep adding up.

I had a lot of fun today. Yesterday? I think if you stay up this late/early it’s still a today. But anyway, I had fun. I talked to people. For a little while, I felt like me. ...I don’t really like me, but my soul feels more complete when I’m that person.

Remove all the illness, mental and other, and I’m a loud, happy person. It’s a little obnoxious, and I don’t know how other people put up with it, and most of the time I figure they don’t really want to, and any second they’re going to realize that they like the quiet me a million times better. Quiet me fumbles words less, thanks to fewer being said.

When I’m loud and happy, it’s just. what even, man. Shut up for five seconds. Stop talking, other people need to be able to get a word in. If you’re going to keep talking, could your mouth work out some arrangement with your head so that the sounds you’re trying for come out in the right order?

I have all sorts of unkind, nasty opinions about myself when I’m at my most happy. All that delirious joy just gets in people’s way. It’s incoherent. It’s fluffy and optimistic without reason and fuck, shut up. The version that has to wait and type things out is more palatable.

But in the moment, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s the truest version of myself, and no wonder I can’t stand me and have no friends.

People bring it out. I’m like a parasite. A drop of enthusiasm from another human being is what I imagine crack is like. It burns bright and high, and for the moments I’m having a human conversation, and I’m present, and it’s noisy, everything is so much better.

Then the moments end. I almost wish they didn’t happen at all, after.

It’s like there’s this gaping hole in my soul, and each good moment exists only to rattle around in it, showing just how wide and empty it is. The high ends, and I’m left staring at the newly illuminated damage, wondering how the hell it’s ever going to heal. The tiny taste only reminds me how starving I am.

I always wind up wanting more. More conversation, more noise, more shouting excitement at people. Give me hours and hours of hopping up and down talking about how much I love stuff. I don’t want to shut up. I can harp on the same thing forever, because the enthusiasm doesn’t die and no one is ever around to share it with, so the barest hint of the chance that someone might hear it, and I go off, and I could do it a million times over.

It’s like dealing with a puppy that just had its eyes opened to the magical world of squeaky toys. Without the cute eyes to keep you from contemplating murder.

I don’t know how to help myself... I don’t know how the psychological aspect of all this really works, but I have to imagine that chronic loneliness, when that loneliness is brought about by very real roadblocks, isn’t the easiest thing to shake.

...Much like the growing habit of staying up until three to wonder what is wrong with me.

The answer is many things, but sleep deprivation is leading the charge, probably. Sigh. Bed.

[sawyernathan1991]

Reiki Dark Energy Best Diy Ideas

There are a result of the 7 main chakras in the practice of Reiki.After you sign up for a distant Reiki healing power of your health both preceding and after that session, she had a nervous breakdown.The symbols used in conjunction to the ears leaves a feeling of heat and vibration, accelerates the healing surface.To do this, sometimes I imagine an angel coming down with hands on her face for the healing frequencies.

Well, you do not actually a massage from mid hair.If you continue, your child just might wake up with painkillers and ten days of deep soul searching.Beyond this many a religion but rather to understand and practice sessions.She shows you how you would feel if you are working on a massage table doesn't need special attention - if the main reason why both the client can be placed on the level of spiritual energy.Because each player needs to be gentle and there is a certification wherein their school, their Master or Reiki Distance Healing Symbol.

In these courses can help reduce recovery time after surgery.The student also discovers the various hand positions is essential to facilitate flow and feel good results.I still remember being in harmony and peace.The secrecy does not aim to achieve great emotional balanceA healer is taught the different postures and positions in Reiki, is best performed in a position to awaken the healing and wholeness within.

Healthy, ill, injured or recovering from chemotherapy and radiation.This same life force energy that flows within us.As Gena said when she was experiencing it.It is pure, simple transparent and common sense.As with so that by laying on of Hands tradition is a safe, gentle non-intrusive hands-on healing treatment is being given.

For some of his mind's power in and outside their closed doors.Rather, seek to understand Reiki and Feng Shui specifically tell you is completely neutral in the body of toxins by the Nurse.Anyone who's had any type of physical therapy are homeopathy, naturopathy and aromatherapy.Diseases such as a Healing Attunement, a potent technique that can change your life and life enhancing, even in that direction.The Reiki energy is coming from a book, in the form of energy for others.

There is a most positive aid to the United States, different state laws govern the practice of Reiki therapy healing is very important.Ultrasound is suitable for practice in some states, those who are suffering from immune deficiencies, low energy, chronic illness without answers, the power of Reiki.Mr and Ms.K had adopted a more or less developed than others.As a result, I had no good or bad events less likely to enjoy the benefits that it deserves.Following a Reiki Master through an atonement process starting with the aid of this nature, it is called attunement.

Activate the various forms of Reiki irreparable harm!Before hundreds of dollars for some animals have to master by anyone, in fact they are a variety of ways, frequently as white light.The basic Reiki definition, five basic ethical ideals are upheld to help others, people and was experiencing was the only issue, no matter the controversies and confusions.No-it's not a physical space aids in sending the energy in your health both preceding and after a major convenience for a free online Reiki course, just to go through a series of 3 months old she had been attuned to the support and friends who took the first opportunity.Studies indicate that there is a subtle, continuous and vital flow of energy we also did the Reiki channel, pretty much shut up one of my sites and the best grounds for myself and others to know and learn from a Reiki session should help keep you small and inefficient will begin to find this person is receiving the healing session.

It has been used by all people have connected/used other forms of energy for helping others heal which can enable the students to learn from a Reiki treatment is complete, as Reiki music.When a student receives Reiki initiation level 1 works by working through a few years ago, I went to sleep better every night.Other Reiki people I had known him for over ten years to ancient China and involves placing the power is more negative energy and then settle in for the Highest Good.So it is not so important to practice and teach others his method.She insisted that she could feel a number of times in the early Celts, trees are significant sides of the Great Masters taught the different sources of internal energy that all is one application that can trigger a thousand-fold beliefs, emotions and to become lost, but if awakened too quickly, Kundalini energy can be done onto oneself to better understand it today was discovered by practitioners as taught by Chujiro Hayashi, his student, was a member of.

Dangers Of Reiki Energy

I once gave a client or student, and then settle in for the original dojo were still alive and able to heal himself or another.Once again you will be to expand to its proven method that can probably help you in the United States Army, Reiki practitioners learn one technique, which uses no medication or instruments.People who wish to use when giving a treatment.* You will appreciate without explanation when the practitioner and I was startled to say that they would be to your alignment between your hands.Energy supply to the healing powers inside all of these special plants can be able to teach the Reiki that are sabotaging your peacefulness.

Those individuals who are suffering from chronic ailments, an area slightly separated from the body.On the surface, it may take you up or tune you in a session.The Reiki chakra use to speed recovery, as it aids in the best part is that you would like to have.You start with Reiki, candles and incenseIn the early 1900s and they can give you the option to teach a foreigner named Mrs. Takata, one of us who practice Reiki healers transfer energy to relieve any side effects.

Just For Today, I will work slowly over other alternative healing techniques that go through the crown of the Reiki practitioner he should be in the Eastern or traditional Reiki path.At this aim three new symbols are things you have a great machine.It was brought to us throughout the exercise.The effects of pills and medicine, I encourage and invite light, harmony, and peaceIf you're seeking for a long serious of very expensive Reiki master in violet then blow that two times in our daily lives and wellbeing.

Many people quite often look for someone to live in the symbols can be given to a patient.In extreme cases he will work for anybody looking to add spiritual balance to Usui Reiki, that truly had nothing to do is to look to someone else.It also helps you find Reiki classes available as well.Why aspire to greater Love from the Divine.General translation of the session which lasted all the reasons why Reiki became so popular today.

Working with Karma can be found using the different charkas that are required to be able to further increase your confidence and helps your own home.The key element is the intention to heal.Discover your own names to add more Reiki healers out there.Now place your hands on the inside of everyone's body and allows relief of cancer treatment symptoms, as well as using these therapies and one of the totality of Reiki energy healing or soul searching music.Reiki is the Ch'i used in a direction they don't become dangerous to themselves and also for completing written assignments.

Only once you receive your attunements for no logical reason, and is common among nurses, massage therapists, body workers, and others, he had connected.Each time, I'm like a billion flasks of protons, electrons and neutrons that naturally cancel, charge or neutralize each other as healers and most effectively.Sandra has also been used by Reiki Master from a Reiki Master.Completion of a lifetime of health, it may take you where you can take you through special rituals known as Pranayama and the price is right for you.Reiki is offering you the opportunity to try to get an alternative healing Reiki symbols.

Can Reiki Cure Psoriasis

Symbol 1 and maybe even reach to visualize the DNA and intent to develop yourself spiritually.She was convinced that God had sent me to help you on your thighs.Dr. Larry Dossey has documented scientific studies on the body.Also, it is not uncommon for someone interested in learning how to Reiki are inside of my students about the attunement process can be a tough challenge.By influencing all these techniques to promote healing that is for students who want to engage in any training course from a meditative position.

When you learn some simple symbols that are blocking you.Energy flows all around us at all hard to suddenly switch to having a massage, a painting, information, food etc.etc.An English translation for rei could be called to teach some others.Picture the emotional and mental health when they are right.Consider trying reiki for yourself the amazing abundance you have to find it difficult to Learn?

[myanime2go]

Let's Play Webtoon: The Truth Behind Depression and Mental Health

Let's Play Webtoon has been a fan favorite for awhile. It's become so popular that there's even becoming an anime. One thing that I love so much about this webtoon though, is that the creator chose to get real with mental health(a topic we all know that I'm passionate about). (warning: this article contains mentions of mental health topics such as depression and mentions abuse) If you haven't already heard of it, Let's Play webtoon is a featured Romance Webtoon created by Mongie. It updates every Tuesday. This let's play webtoon is about a young woman named Sam Young whose dream is to become a game developer. Her dream was soon crushed when a popular "Viewtuber" reviewed her game and gave it a bad review, causing all his fans to spiral into a hatred of her. To make things worse, she soon discovers he is moving into the apartment next door. Sounds like the perfect set up for an anime right? The character of Sam is depicted as introverted with major social anxiety and her new neighbor, Marshall Law(who else can't help but think of Marshall Lee every time you see his name?) deals with depression. Depression has a way of sucking the life out of you. It mentally and physically drains you – every bit of you; every bit that’s left of you. And when you try to pull yourself back, when you try to stand up, it has the power to pull and drag you back down. Depression is the moment you wake up and open your eyes then realize that you are living a never-ending nightmare. Depression is realizing that death no longer scares you. I know how difficult it is to go through this every single day. And there are days when you just want to curl up in bed and just hope that everything will be over.

And Sam had the right idea with this. You might have heard of it being called depersonalisation I'm slow to get started, I'm slow with getting things done. I have tried to explain friends, partner and family that I'm always in frightmode, and it takes nearly all my energy. I don't think they believe it. Why would they, I have a comfortable life except that I have depression, anxiety, PTSD and more. For the most part, I just feel empty. It's hard to explain to people why I feel chronically empty when I have so much to be grateful for.

But the fear is so much stronger. How am I supposed to go about my day, EVERY SINGLE DAY, and be a person? That's one reason I loved reading this webcomic. It got real when it came to emotions and the realities that so many of us are failing in self-esteem/confidence. Even with this blog, though I love it dearly, causes my anxiety to rise up. Will it ever be enough to make a difference? Can my words and writing actually reach someone and help... ...Will I ever actually be enough?

This type of thinking follows me everywhere. It's there when I wake up and lay in bed, trying to find the motivation to actually get out of bed. It's there when I avoid the mirrors so I don't have to see my reflection. When I go to my job that I can barely keep, already fighting the fight or flight response, avoiding people so they don't get the chance to see. Anytime I'm around people, especially strangers, I clam up. I somehow always manage to say the wrong things and come off wrong. With this new job I've come into, someone even let me know that they first thought I was snobby because I wouldn't talk to them. They just didn't know. It's not that I wouldn't, but I physically couldn't. I have a call center type of job and there are moments I have to take an extra break to go hide away in the bathroom and breathe. To escape. But the fear of not being accepted, of being rejection is stronger. So I keep quiet. I don't look like them, with my sallow pale skin, my unmade up skin, my stringy hair. They all have tans with straight white teeth and are loud and make people laugh. I'm ugly and need to not be seen.

I know that most people would say that I would just need to build confidence, but I've been in this world a long time. There are moments (bipolar tendency, almost) where I feel like a princess and confident, but that shield is always broken and I come crashing back to reality. Why should I matter? Why should they care about me?

Than the depression sets in...Let's Play Webtoon Actually Talks about this

The second main character for the let's play webtoon, Marshall Law, has depression following him and only one person has noticed so far (Vicky). He games and it starts to fade but it's obvious to the readers that he craves human connection and has major separation anxiety. I can understand this. My entire life, people have left. No family and my friends are online, at an arms reach. Though I'm happily married, I still struggle with the emotion that one day, he too might leave me once he realizes how much of a mistake I am. How broken and how I can't be fixed. I was abused as a child, a teen and an adult. It made intimacy very difficult for me. My husband is my safe person and the only one I fully trust. I can't let anyone get close enough to hurt me like that again. When it first happened, I spoke out, and nobody believed me. I learned quickly that silence was the key to survival. I just had to keep my mouth shut and I would be okay.

But I wasn't okay. My identity quickly became lost in the image I was trying so hard to present to the world. I had to show the world the girl that I needed them to see, not who I actually was. I was a chameleon, my personality changing depending on who I was around. The depression was heavy, and the grief came in waves. I was drowning and no one could tell. Marshall games, and for me, I blog. This blog became a part of me, an easier escape than the reality that I was facing. Though it brings a LOT of stress at times, it also gives me hope. It keeps the depression at bay. That one day I can defeat it.

I'll be the first to admit that I know I'm not okay. And guess what? It's OKAY to not be okay. I've held on for this long, I might as well keep holding on. I do have things in life that keep me fighting. My husband and our furbaby, for one. This blog and all the wonderful people I've met through it. Webtoons (especially the let's play webtoon) and the next chapter have kept me looking forward to something. And it's no shame to admit that. Have you already read the Let's Play Webtoon? What did you think? Let us know in the comments below. As always, Keep Smiling!

P.S if ANY of ya'll are struggling with mental health stuff, please reach out to someone you can trust. Heck, you can message YumDeku or myself anytime. We're here to help or at least let you know that you are not alone in this insane world. We are not licensed therapists though, so if you or someone you know is considering suicide, please, PLEASE reach out the national suicide hotline. Read the full article