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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 2 years

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Prominence [WCh. 2.46]

Social Media AU ; Idol AU ; Added Unit AU CW/TW: Language Genre: Comedy, Romance Pairing: NCT x Idol!Reader, Seonghwa x Reader Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 4.1K

Notes: I was debating on posting this but... fuck it. Better sooner than later, more time for me to develop things hehe Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

20 February 2022

Everything felt hazy.

His vision blurred and his ears ringing, it was a strange experience and all he was doing was slumping against a bench. The side of his face was pressed up against the cold glass of the bar window with one leg was extended across the bench and the other stretched out off the side. He was so tired. Where did Yunho go? Or Yangyang for that matter? He could've sworn he was just getting into the taxi before someone dragged him out and placed him on a bench.

Maybe he was dreaming. He'd just close his eyes and wake up in the dorms, hopefully. Yes, definitely. He was ready to have the best sleep of his life. Tour's back on track, ATEEZ's career is going well, his relationship's fixed and on temporary hold. Life's great. He'll probably call you tomorrow, catch up on things, maybe he'd get to see Mars again, hm, he can hear him barking away now. His face began to heat up, thoughts of you bouncing around his head. He's so glad. You're both talking again, you're both on good terms again, he just has to wait for a few more months and it'll be like you never broke up in the first place.

But... he still has a few things to tell you. He has to apologize for that text still. He still can't believe he typed it out, what the hell was he thinking? Treating you like that? He'd hate him too.

"Wow... I really lucked out with her..." he mumbles. He truly did. And he had yet to tell you about what Juliet had on her phone. Oh, no, his head was spinning, just thinking about it all stressed him out so much. He just got you back, is he ready to risk it all again?

He had to tell you.

He wished you were here.

"Seonghwa?" It was like he could hear you anywhere if he put his mind to it. "What are you doing here?" Your voice is what convinced him to pry his eyes open again. Still, the world was fuzzy around the edges, but you were in full focus. The ringing came to a stop, and all he could see and hear was you. A small smile settled on his face.

"You're here," his words slurred together and your brows furrowed.

"Hey, Park Seonghwa!" Despite the sternness in your voice, it was still soft. "I thought you went home."

"I am home..." he mutters. Your shoulders slumped.

"You're literally passed out against a bar window, Hwa, this isn't home. In fact, you are far from it."

"Home... is wherever you are..." his eyes slip closed again and he hears you sigh. He'll tell you in a bit, he's so tired right now.

"Geez... hold on, okay?" You moved his leg and sat next to him on the bench. "Come on... pick up..." you mumbled.

"(Y/N)!" He heard Yangyang's voice over the phone. "Surprise~"

"How much did you drink, jackass?!" Seonghwa snickered, you could be so cute when you're angry.

"Like... two...?"

"Two shots...?"

"Two... two-teen?"

"Oh my god... well you and Yunho left Seonghwa here."

"No, no, that was intentional."

"What do you mean 'intentional'?!"

"I dunno, it was Yunho's idea."

"So you just left him in the cold, on his own, in public- Oh my god, you're impossible when you drink." Seonghwa felt something drape over him. He opened his eyes slightly. Looks like his coat, that's weird, he handed that to you earlier.

Oh, wait, you're right in front of him. He chuckled to himself and shut his eyes again.

"You're the one to talk! You cling onto the closest person to you like a koala and you won't let up until you pass out!"

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is..." Seonghwa mumbles.

"Shh, don't encourage him," your voice continued. "At least tell me you're at the ATEEZ dorms."

"Yeah, yup, mmhmm. 'Cept Yunho's getting lectured by Jonghoong now."

"Hongjoong."

"That's what I said."

"Okay, well, I'm coming to drop Seonghwa off and pick you up, so you'd best prepare yourself because I swear I'm gonna give you a piece of my mind, we have an early schedule tomorrow, are you out of your mind?! It's midnight! It's midnight and I'm going to have to deal with your complaining tomorrow-"

"Yes, I'm out of my mind. I set my three-year crush back up with her fairy tale boyfriend who's so head over heels for her he stayed in his room for two weeks straight while she repeatedly cried 'Love is over!' 'I was a horrible girlfriend!' 'I will never date again!' and, my personal favorite, 'my super hot boyfriend, oh shit, ex-boyfriend, is gone for-."

"Okay, stop!" You groaned.

"Don't listen to him, you're a good girlfriend, bestest ever," Seonghwa yawns. "And I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," he shakes his head.

"I know, honey, I know, and I need to get you home," you squeezed his leg and returned to the call. "But... You stayed in your room for two weeks straight?" He felt you grab his hand and squeeze it before letting go.

"Mmhmm..." He moves his hand around his lap absently, looking for yours to hold. When he doesn't find it, his arm drapes over his chest instead.

You must hate him.

His lips tugged into a frown.

"Geez... Was Hongjoong even allowed in?"

"Uhh... dunno, just heard from Seoyang."

"Yeosang."

"That's what I said."

"Oh my god... you're going to get us fired. When you're hungover during schedule tomorrow don't cry to me," you grumbled. Seonghwa assumed you hung up the phone. "Okay, I need you to cooperate with me here," you placed your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. He opened one eye to look at it.

"Hm?"

"I don't know if this is going to work... I'll just drive extra slow," you muttered. You pulled one of his arms over your shoulder and slowly guided him to the motorcycle. "Are you awake yet? Seonghwa?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Because I'm going to need you to hold onto me, yeah? I don't want you to fall off."

"Okay, I can do that," he nods his head up and down, the world beginning to spin when you held the sides of his face.

"Don't do that, you're going to make yourself sick," you said. "And as much as I like you," you like him. Seonghwa's lips tugged into a smile again, "I will never forgive you if you throw up on me," you finished.

"Okay," he nods his head slightly now. You climb onto the seat first and hand him the helmet, once he was ready he climbed behind you, essentially slumping his weight on you and holding you close.

"Alright, ready?"

"Mmhmm," he hums against your shoulder. You revved the engine. "Wait!"

"What?" Your shoulders tensed. He didn't mean to frighten you.

"Nothing, I just love you."

"Oh my..." Whatever you said next was masked by the engine. You pulled his arms tighter around you and took off, slowly, of course. He looked around, the city lights molding together and the chatters muting. He was tired, his eyes heavy. But you said not to sleep, he had to hold on. When would be the next time he gets to have you this close anyway? Your helmets knock together and he groans.

"Great... another obstacle..." He sighs. It's like the world's against you two.

"Huh?" He didn't answer, just tightening his arms instead. This was nice, he liked this. He sighed, leaning more of his weight against you. He liked this, he missed it. It was so cold, but you were so warm. If he could make this moment last forever he would. When was the last time he held you like this? He's made so many mistakes, so many, when was the last time he held you like this? He couldn't remember, but to be fair, he couldn't remember how many drinks he's had either.

Much too soon, you pulled over again, pulling your key out of the engine.

"Seonghwa, we're here," you said. "Hwa, you... you can let go now."

"Five more minutes."

"That's not how this works, Hwa," your voice was still as soft as it was earlier, "we have to get you inside."

"No..." He holds you closer, if that was even possible.

"I'm going to need backup, aren't I?" You muttered. He could hear the dial tone from your phone.

"(Y/N)! Hyung was just about to call you, your friend's here!"

"Yeah, I know. I have Seonghwa with me and I'm outside, can you give me a hand, San?"

"You have San's number?" Seonghwa asks.

"I have all of your numbers," you answered.

"Oh, shit, is he as hammered as Yunho and Yangyang are?!"

"Probably? I just need some help getting him up, yeah? He doesn't want to let me go."

"I don't blame him."

"Hey! I can hear you, Choi San!" Seonghwa leans forward, trying to speak into the phone.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, hyung. I'll be right down, (Y/N). Want me to bring Yangyang?"

"If you can, I'd appreciate it. But if not I'll just come back up with you."

"San you'd better not be trying to steal my girlfriend!" The sentence was just barely understandable.

"Oh, god, he really is drunk. If he was sober he'd never say that out loud, haha! I'll be right down."

"Seonghwa, come on, let's get you inside," you tried to encourage him again. "It's cold out, it's so you don't get sick."

"But if I let go..." he squeezes you. "I won't be able to hold you like this again..." Again, your shoulders relaxed.

"Just a few more months," you muttered.

"Exactly..." he responds. Somehow, you pry his arms off of you and climb off the bike. You held onto his hand and tried to tug him off the seat. "No."

"What do you mean 'no'?!"

"I don't want to."

"I wonder if I'm this difficult when I'm drunk," you sighed.

"Never fear, Choi San is here!" Seonghwa whipped his head to the side and San walks out of the complex.

"You've got coffee spilled all over you!" Seonghwa's eyes go wide.

"I know," you responded. "Think you can help me out here?" You turn to San.

"I got it," he walks over to Seonghwa. "Hyung, we gotta go, Hongjoong's going to flip if you don't come inside."

"No, no, I don't want to," he shakes his head again.

"Why not?" You and San both ask.

"Because... if I go inside... I have to wait a few months to be with (Y/N) again..." he crosses his arms.

"Oh my god, this is rich," San bellows. "Yangyang should've come down with me, he'd eat this up!" He laughs.

"That too!" Seonghwa points at particularly nothing. "That... that guy... ugh... gave me so many headaches back then, he's going to give me more now," his speech slows down and his head starts nodding off.

"Think we should just wait for him to pass out," you ask.

"Nah," San takes his phone out. "Hyung, I'm serious, we should go upstairs."

"No..." he shakes his head again. San looks at you. He places his hand on your shoulder.

"If you don't come upstairs with us right now, I'll take (Y/N) on a date," San smirks.

"No! Absolutely not! Are you insane? Why would you do that?" Seonghwa stumbles off the motorcycle, slowly making his way to the entrance of the dorms and pushing on the door that clearly says 'pull.'

"I should've done that first," you snapped your fingers.

"Always works, as soon as we mention you this guy is on it," San laughs. "Alright, let's go." You walk past Seonghwa and pull open the door for him. San, meanwhile, leans Seonghwa's body against his so that he could have support. You both enter the elevator.

"I hope Yangyang hasn't been too much of a problem," you say.

"Eh, he's been fine. He's filling us in on all the details right now, drunk, of course, but it's kind of interesting," San says. "Before I came down he was just telling us about how he'd been pining for you since 2018."

"Oh my god, that's so embarrassing..."

"You should see him! He's more embarrassed than you, we didn't have time to tease him because he started begging Yeosang to let him back into the Investigation Team group chat," he chuckles, but then quickly stops when he realizes what he said.

"It's okay, I know about it. Mark told me," you reassured him.

"Cool, even better. What did you think about my theories?"

"They were way far from the truth, but I appreciate the creativity," you laughed. Like music to his ears, Seonghwa absently reached for your hand. But when you crossed your arms over your chest instead, he could only pout.

"Wish Wooyoung was here to see it, though, that guy would've gone feral laughing as hard as we are," he says.

"Where's Wooyoung? I was looking forward to seeing him."

"He went out with a friend, he should be on his way back soon though," San says. The elevator opens and you walk into the next hall, the ATEEZ dorm in sight. The sound of the other members laughing was barely audible.

"I swear he'd better not be saying shit about me, he knows too much," you snickered.

"I'm sure it's all good things." The sound of keys against a lock and then a door opening. The sounds of everyone's voices got louder. "The missing member has returned!" San announced. Seonghwa smiled, they all care about him.

"(Y/N)! Our missing ninth member! Thank god! The world is healing!" Mingi shouts. Seonghwa frowns. They don't care about him.

"Tatertot! It's been so long I forgot what you sounded like!" Yeosang cries.

"Aww, come on, I was just one phone call away," you said. "Hey, is Hongjoong here?"

"Yeah, he's in his room," Yeosang answered. "Yunho and Yangyang are there too."

"Got it, I'm just going to do a switcheroo and be out of your hairs."

"No! Stay! This is the most relaxed we've seen hyung since the whole thing," Jongho insists.

"Aw, I'm sorry guys, I have a schedule tomorrow morning, I'll come visit soon, Seonghwa will explain things when he's sober, I'm sure," you continued. Seonghwa wanted to add on, really, he did, but for some reason he was too tired to even walk right. San readjusted his grip on him and they started walking again, even the voices around him seemed to mute out. Soon, he was placed in his bed, or what he assumes to be his bed, and everything felt comfortable, too comfortable. He dozed off as soon as he felt someone run their hands through his hair.

"Hongjoong, hey," you nodded your head to him once San pulled the door open. He was seated at his desk with Yunho and Yangyang standing in front of him. San sat Seonghwa down on his bed and the latter collapsed against the pillow, passing out immediately. "Poor guy, doesn't even have the energy to change into something more comfy," you shook your head.

"Hey, (Y/N), long time no see, here to grab this guy, right?" Hongjoong motions to Yangyang, who sends you a small wave. Looks like he's sobered up a bit before you entered.

"Yeah, but, I wanted to talk to you too, actually," you admitted. "I wanted to apologize to you," you stood between Yunho and Yangyang. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble to you all, it really wasn't my intention, but intentions have nothing to do with effects, right?"

"Apology accepted," Hongjoong stands up. "Are you two okay now?"

"Wait... just like that?" You ask.

"Of course? What, do you want me to make you pay for dinner or something?" Hongjoong laughs. "I'm just glad you and Seonghwa made amends, this is the first time he's looked so peaceful while asleep," he points to Seonghwa. "Honestly, he told me everything from his end, and to me it sounded like a series of unfortunate and unpredictable events. What matters now is that you talked things through, and you can begin to move on from it all," he says. You hear sniffling next to you and you look at Yunho, who wipes a tear from his eye.

"Yunho? Why are you crying?" You ask.

"It's just... it's so moving," the tears slip down his red-tinted face. Next to you, Yangyang sniffles too and you and Hongjoong both sigh.

"And you?" You ask.

"I just lost ₩120,000..." he frowns.

"What?!"

"Mark bet me that you'd be getting back together with Seonghwa and I bet against it," he groaned. "I just remembered that bet now," he frowns.

"And here I thought you cared," you teased him and rolled your eyes. "Oh well, what can be done, right? I'll see you both soon," you said. "Yangyang, let's go."

"Yes, ma'am," he follows behind you, head hanging low.

"Bye, (Y/N)! Drive safe!" Jongho calls out.

"I will!" You waved goodbye and walked out, Yangyang in tow. You were both quiet for a while, but you couldn't stop your curiosity. Once you were both in the elevator, you spoke up. "Yangyang."

"(Y/N)?"

"Why did you try so hard to get me and Hwa back together?" You leaned against the back wall of the elevator. Yangyang just points at your reflection on the metal doors of the elevator.

"You're smiling," he says. "Last time you had that resting face was when you were dating. After you broke up, you either looked sad or pissed all the time so... figured I'd at least try to help you out," he says. You looked at your reflection now, true to his words, your lips were settled in a subtle upturn, and you hadn't realized that they looked like that until now. "Figured I'd do one last good deed before I head back to China, you know?" He shrugs.

"You always act like we're just going to stop being friends when you move out, seriously? I'm still going to nag you nonstop, you know."

"Yeah... I know," he shrugs again. "Just... the dynamic's different, you know?"

"I know, but we still have a whole month together, the three of us."

"Not sure about that."

"Why?"

"I'm about to go on the death machine again while drunk."

"Oh my god, you're not going to die!" You pushed him lightly.

"I had a good life, good fans, good career..."

"You're so dramatic! At least I know you'll sober up soon," you groaned. The three stages of Drunk Yangyang, as you put it. First, untouchable happiness; second, unavoidable honesty; and third, unbearable dramatics. After those three stages he either passes out or sobers up, and you hoped that you'd be at the dorms by the time he hits either of those stages. You both step out of the elevator and he darts off towards the restrooms. "You couldn't have done that up there?!"

"No!" He shuts the door and you complained. You shifted your weight onto one leg and waited for him.

"Oh! Jung (Y/N)!" Wooyoung called your name from the entrance. He waved his hand so you could see him and you waved back. "What are you doing here? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love when you visit, but, like, you know," he rambles.

"I just dropped Seonghwa off. There was a bit of a mixup and somehow Yunho and Yangyang came here instead and left him at the bar, so... yeah," you explained.

"Oh... oh! Does that mean you two are back together?!" His eyes light up.

"Well... not exactly," you shook your head. "We're on good terms now, but we agreed to wait until we're both free to properly restart things," you say.

"So you're both still technically single then?" He asks.

"Yeah, pretty much," you nodded. "Nothing wrong with that though," you quickly added. "Hey, I heard you went out with a friend, how was it? You guys don't usually have time to go out."

"Yeah! Ah, I had so much fun! He's on his way in, actually, it's late and his dorms are pretty far from here so Hongjoong is letting him spend the night, he'll probably head up in a second, but I gotta make sure my room is clean!" He says, knocking the side of his head with his palm. "It was nice seeing you! I'll talk to you later!" He rushes into the elevator and is off.

You glanced toward the hallway, he's been in there for a while, and something told you that he wouldn't be out for a bit either. You should probably at least start the engine so you could get home quicker, you'd just wait for Yangyang outside. You pulled your phone out to check the time while you opened the door, not noticing that you dragged someone with it, and finally realizing it once you walked right into them.

"Whoops!" You exclaimed, dropping your phone and grabbing onto his wrist with one hand and the door frame with the other to catch his fall. "I am so sorry, I should've been paying attention to what I was... doing..." your voice trailed off when you noticed just who it was you ran into. You gasped and your hand slipped for a moment, which he responded to by grabbing onto your wrist instead and you tugged him up without thinking about it, leading him to crash into you this time. He grabs the door frame and holds you steady. "Sorry..." you apologized again.

"Don't worry about it," he laughs. "Are you alright? You look pretty worried," he pulls away from you, and you both step back inside.

"I'm good, sorry for bumping into you, I can't..." you cleared your throat. "Whoa, I could've gotten into so much trouble," you huffed.

"I'm serious, it's fine, you're not hurt, are you? I might've grabbed onto you too hard," he looks down at your wrist.

"Yeah- Wait, no, no it's okay, I'm fine," you waved your hand in front of him and he chuckles.

"I'm glad then, I'm just here because Wooyoung offered, so I'll head up," he says. "He told me to wait outside but it's freaking cold so I figured I'd just wait in front of the dorm until he was ready. Told me he had to ask Hongjoong but I know he's actually shoving everything into his closet right now," he shakes his head. Right as he said it, the elevator opened again and Wooyoung bounded out.

"(Y/N)! You're still here!" He says, but he quickly redirects his attention back to his friend. "Sorry for leaving you outside, just had to do something really quick, ready to head up?" He asks. He looks between you both and knocks the side of his head with his hand again. "Ah! Where are my manners? I don't think you two have ever actually met, huh?"

"I mean, I know of him, at least, hard not to know who he is," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly.

"I can say the same about you, actually," he winks at you and you tried to ignore the sudden rush of heat in your face. Wooyoung's eyes dart between you both.

"Anyway... (Y/N), this is my best friend Yeonjun," he says. "Yeonjun, this is my close friend (Y/N)!" He introduces you both properly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm a huge fan of ANiMA," Yeonjun says.

"(Y/N)! I'm ready to go home!" Yangyang stumbles out of the restroom, holding his head in one hand. "I think I've sobered up enough to go on the death machine."

"Quit calling it that! No one's died on it!"

"Yet."

"Ugh, sober my ass," you shook your head. "Sorry to cut this short, but it was nice meeting you too. I'll head out, see you soon, Wooyoung!" You waved at him and Yangyang linked his arm with yours, tugging you out with him.

Yeonjun, meanwhile, stayed for a little while longer, his hands in his pockets and his body leaning back to watch you go. Wooyoung held the door open button on the elevator.

"Hey, let's go!" He says.

"Huh..." he shrugs, letting his gaze linger on the door a while longer before following his friend into the elevator.

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saltymcsaltything · 2 years

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I can't believe it, but I actually feel like I've turned the page on a really rough period in my life

tl;dr warning: This is wayyyyyy too long; don't read it. Skip to the end where it says [ TL;DR ] for the mega happy ending, you'll skip all the background trauma, the drama, the highs and the lows, but also all the funny bits. Or at least all the bits that *I* think are funny. YMMV, buyer beware, don't take any wooden nickels, and don't wizz on the electric fence.

TW / CW: Mental Illness, Self harm, Medical Trauma, Death, Parental Death, Surgery, Hospitals, Doctors, Needles, Anesthesia, Panic Attacks, I apologize if I missed anything

Other Warnings (because that last list seemed grim) : Excessive length, sesquipdalean loquaciousness, spelling errors of very long words, egregious typos because of my motor disorder, poor attempts at humor, using humor at inappropriate times, laughing at my own jokes, explaining the jokes, *not* explaining the jokes, bad puns, snark, self deprecation, probably repeating myself, way too long, so many big words, flippancy in the face of serious situations, overreactions in the face of minor inconveniences or simple misunderstandings, too many warnings, attempted sarcasm, actual sarcasm, inappropriate use of bulleted lists, being overly dramatic, never knowing when to shut up, shit... I just typed shit instead of shut I better fix that...

So, yeah... I kind of snapped out of a (checks calendar) 3+ year extended burnout/depression/funk, and in a lot of ways, a much longer period of a slow but erratic decline in my overall mental health. Read on to discover my *shocking* secret to wellness and self-fulfillment! /s

Apparently, what I really needed to suddenly...

dramatically elevate my mood

dramatically reduce my anxiety

rekindle my emotional connection with my wife

rediscover what it is to feel gratitude

get a little boost to executive functioning

get a huge boost of natural dopamine (ahhh, that's the stuff!)

feel reinvigorated in my eternal quest to wrangle my various and sundry physical health issues

was...

[ DRAMATIC PAUSE ]

Surgery.

...wait, what?

Allow me to explain.

Of all of the things that have been weighing me down over the last several years, the one that first knocked me out of my groove was a sudden, sharp decline in my physical health. Around 12-13 years ago, at age 29, I was at the absolute peak of my health - stronger, better toned, and happier than I had ever been. I worked out 6-7 times per week and *loved* it because I was addicted to the endorphins and the dopamine, and, more importantly, it was something my wife and I were both into and enjoyed doing together.

TW / CW: Medical Trauma - so much ahead. /g

*For real* stop reading now if this is a trigger, it starts mild but just keeps escalating from here, and it keeps popping up over and over. Then again, Medical Trauma is one of my biggest triggers, so although I've processed what follows, I'm still maybe more sensitive to this than others. I dunno, it's so hard for me to gauge, it was so bad for me at the time, but my perspective is so shifted now.

TFW you feel like your TW / CW requires such a long explanation that it probably needs a tl;dr /hj

But at age 30 I just... crashed. HARD. I started getting horrible tension headaches that eventually turned into debilitating migraines after every workout, and I had to give it up. Unfortunately, it didn't stop there, and over the last ten years almost every aspect of my physical health has declined, except for the overall effectiveness of my immune system, which went way too far in the other direction and instead of getting sick a lot, I instead have horrible reactions to *gestures vaguely at the entire planet*. I had already had multiple episodes of anaphylaxis from my allergy shots, and dozens of severe reactions that felt almost (but not quite) as bad. I had an epipen for years and came close to using it a few times, but the less severe reactions never quite hit the same level of panic inducing tightness in the throat before they subsided. I really need to remember to get another one... That was all *before* I got even sicker and started to react to foods, flowers, the subtlest of fragrances and... nothing (or at least nothing I could identify.)

Over the course of about 3 years, I declined sharply. I developed joint pain with numbness and tingling, both of which spread throughout most of my body. These were joined by nerve and muscle pain that moved around and fluctuated in severity, from mildly annoying to spending 48 hours in bed on the verge of tears. I saw around a dozen different doctors and received increasingly frustrating non-diagnoses or misdiagnoses, and had a few nasty reactions to medications that "might help, let's try it and see" before I finally gave up and went solo with diet, exercise and supplements for the next 6 years, with some success but eventually a sharp decline in 2019 that has continued until now. The whole ordeal up to that point is an entire post of its own...

Along the way, *lots* of other things went wrong in my life, and I developed or finally acknowledged a grab-bag of mental health conditions - Anxiety (an old friend), Depression (previously only an occasional visitor, now a constant and far more intense interlocutor), and CPTSD (who the hell invited this guy?). My Autism, ADHD, Dyspraxia and Dyslexia (with some OCD traits thrown in for good measure) were diagnosed only recently, but that diagnostic process really only happened because the combined weight of everything else made every masking or coping technique evaporate in July 2020, and suddenly traits I had successfully used various cognitive measures to manage or outright suppress sprang out of their hiding places and landed directly on my face.

Literally. [ LENGTHY TANGENT INCOMING ]

TW / CW: Self harm

My absolute most aggravating trait/behavior as a kid was trichotillomania - hair pulling. I had long hair (a rat tail, cuz 80's) and in addition to twirling and chewing on it, when I was stressed I would pull strands of it out. It wasn't super noticeable - - my hair is pretty thick and it was only ever a few at a time, but I still hated it because I did it mostly unconsciously while twirling my hair and would only realize it after I noticed I had a few strands of hair in my hand. On rare occasions I would feel some itch or irritation on the back of my neck and pull some hairs consciously, somehow convinced it would help, but it was still more of an "oops, why did I do that" and I was able to stop after a few hairs. I hated it because it hurt, and eventually I stopped altogether.

Flash forward 30+ years, and my go to hair-based stim (my favorite kind) was now the almighty beard stroke. But under stress, this would lead to irritation, probably from increased sensory sensitivity (thanks, autism!) I would feel the irritation and compulsively yank out hairs where the irritation was, convinced there was an ingrown hair and fully conscious of what I was doing, but unable to stop because I could never seem to find the source of the irritation, if it even existed. Once I had pulled a small patch it became impossible to stop, because whenever I absent-mindedly reached up to stroke the beard, my fingers would find the patch, and start pulling. I was only dimly aware I was doing this, at least for the first few minutes. Once I did realize it became a battle with the compulsion, and I've been on the losing end more often than I care to admit. I have two patches that are just barely starting to regrow, and I still keep catching myself messing with them.

The worst part was when I pulled out a root that was really thick (extra keratin? oil buildup?) and it would actually make me bleed a little. Then I'd get scabs, then I'd pick at them, and pull more hair because of the added irritation. Lather, rinse, repeat. 🙄

I'm supposedly pretty smart, but struggling so hard to control behavior that I 100% knew was harmful made me feel... not smart. I've used harsher language than that to describe how my inability to use my "intellectual giftedness" to stop doing things like this makes me feel, but I recognize how ableist it is to insult someone's intelligence, even my own. But it does make me feel like a failure.

So, yeah, a whole mess of personal failure, right on my face... 😒 Nothing like a little self-harm/self-loathing combo move to signal the dawn of the "Obviously Autistic Salty" era. /s

[ END LENGTHY TANGENT ]

After all of this, even with a little forward progress in my mental and physical health (3 years of therapy and a new Doctor as of 2019, who has done 1000% more in 3 years than a whole platoon of Doctors did in the same span), I still felt like I was losing ground almost as quickly as I was gaining it, if not more so. My joints have been declining rapidly for the last 9 months, and my crazy bad allergies (actually allergies + MCAS) have reared up recently in new and entertaining ways (in other words, annoying and terrifying ways).

So, in the midst of all of this I found (mostly on my own) a problem with a clear, straightforward solution: I had a weird bulge in my lower abdomen. I had already figured out the right anatomical term for the area because of a major nerve that had been injured or severely inflamed by a previous procedure that went... poorly. Massive hematoma, much pain, attempted drainage with a huge needle, not nearly enough local anesthetic, almost passing out in a puddle of my own sweat and blood, nerve pain, months of pain when walking, and now here we are with a weird bulge in the same area. Fantastic. /s

But hey, I learned some anatomy so I could tell my Doctor which nerve was destroying my life (and thankfully she put me on a medication that actually worked for the nerve pain.) So when weird, squishy lump that sort of comes and goes and pops up suddenly or expands whenever I sneeze or cough shows up in that area, I simply searched for "anatomical-term + hernia" - I got a quick answer that matched what I was seeing, and the encouraging text in an actual medical source "can usually be self-diagnosed" - I find that text a little ironic given some of the fallacious arguments against self-diagnosis I have seen with respect to Autism in particular (that argument being self-diagnosis is never valid in *any* context and always requires a Doctor of some kind, whether PhD or MD).

Yay, I properly diagnosed something, all by myself! However, I did get my Doctor's assessment to *confirm* my diagnosis (she agreed, high five!) and then got an ultrasound to assess the extent.

It wasn't the worst hernia ever (ultrasound report said "small" even though I thought it looked pretty big, would hate to see a "large" hernia). My Doctor said I could wait and see how it progressed but that it wouldn't get better on its own without surgery and it might interfere with and get worse from certain activities (like lifting, exercising, etc). It was also intruding into an area where I had existing nerve pain - - although, again, thankfully well managed with medication.

I decided not to wait all that long, as I *really* need to exercise (correctly, this time) to rehab my flakey hip, which happens to be on the same side as all this other mess, because of course it is. My wife's theory - and she's probably right because she generally is - is that walking awkwardly (understatenent) for months due to the lingering complications from the previous procedure probably made my underlying joint problems much worse on that side. I *have* to correct my gait and strengthen the damaged muscles and whatnot - and no I can't be more specific than "whatnot" because hips are complicated and I'm no orthopedist, okay? Don't even get me started on shoulders... WTF is a rotator cuff?

I took my time finding a surgeon; I knew I really wanted one that was like "Hernias are my jam!" It's not a codified specialty of its own - it falls under general surgery - but it *is* a thing. There is a community of surgeons who dig hernias and after a great deal of research (after the fact), I can appreciate why, especially laparoscopic and robotic. There is a *lot* going on in that area (don't Google "triangle of doom" if you are the least bit squeamish, especially AMAB folks, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!) It's honestly really fascinating if you have the stomach (or other relevant organs, heh) for it. I figured a self-professed hernia aficionado would be the best way to avoid complications as long as my obstinate and sometimes outright malicious body was willing to cooperate.

So I found me a good hernia doc with a solid rep for explaining things clearly (because autistic) and for *compassion* (because *autistic and mentally ill!*) The above, it turns out, was actually an understatement - compared to other Doctors (and I even include my primary care, who is pretty awesome), she is hands down the nicest, kindest and most patient Doctor I have ever seen, and the most willing to explain things in excrutiating (heh) detail, including answering all sorts of super specific questions that a lot of Doctors might find annoying.

I was up front about my diagnoses, particularly the Autism, ADHD and mental health conditions. I didn't want any of that to come as a surprise in case I got, oh, I dunno, totally panic stricken about something. And of course I got totally panic stricken a few times leading up to the surgery, because panicking is what I do best. /hj

The initial consult went totally fine (yay!). She was, as advertised, super nice, explained everything clearly, was really pleasant to talk to (I didn't even mind the smalltalk), was gentle and not abupt with contact during the exam, and didn't seem phased by my being autistic. Some doctors or nurses have gotten wide-eyed and kind of sputtered for a second before regaining their composure, but she was unphased. It was kind of refreshing and I mentally binned her as "good people."

Unfortunately, it was a bit of a... struggle, to put it mildly, in getting scheduled, and a lot of increasingly - you probably already guessed it - *panic stricken* voice mails on the scheduler's answering machine. That was, it turns out, just bad luck - as if I typically have any other kind. When I finally broke down and called the front desk and (in a panic, naturally) explained what was going on, and that I'm autistic and struggle with uncertainty and *really* needed to get scheduled so I could plan everything else around the surgery, I found out the scheduler had an emergency and was out for several weeks and I didn't wind up on the list for her backup to follow up with due to some kind of clerical error. If I had called them two weeks earlier after I didn't get a callback within a few days of my first voicemail, I probably wouldn't have panicked so badly, or wound up waiting 3 weeks before getting on the schedule, but what would be the fun in that? /s

TW / CW: Panic attacks

Note: I am not using panic lightly. I had at least two borderline anxiety/panic attacks - I still don't totally understand the difference - if someone has a good, concise explanation I'd love to hear it. I had to take Xanax to keep them at bay, and that is something I do very rarely. My anxiety can be pretty bad - I'm sure there are people with worse presentations but this isn't just "heh, I got a little nervous" - this was tachycardia, heart pounding in my chest, pulse in my ears, whole head feeling inflated, labored breathing and "I better do something now while I can still think or I'm going to pass out. " If I didn't already know I am prone to anxiety and panic attacks, I'd have thought they were heart attacks.

TW / CW: Hospitals

The day of the surgery, I knew I had been more anxious than usual for the previous week. My baseline anxiety is pretty high, I'm just used to being constantly on or at least very close to the edge, so this was bordering more on barely keeping it together but somehow not quite falling apart. But when the nurse put the wristband on me in the waiting room, officially admitting me to the hospital, I did essentially fall apart - although more gently than I might otherwise have because I had wised up and took the Xanax that morning. But I still absolutely fell apart in an extremely quiet way. I suddenly felt my senses get cranked up - the lights (which had been not bad as far as lights in a public building go) and the sound of other patients talking (with what had been a perfectly normal volume level) became overpowering and I felt the awful sensation of being simultaneously punched in the head and kicked in the stomach, and felt the dizziness and nausea take over my body. It became all I could feel.

I knew I needed to soothe myself and I had come prepared. I tried to tell my wife I was going to listen to music with the noise canceling headphones on so she would be able to listen for my name to be called, but I couldn't push the words out, my mouth wouldn't move, it felt glued shut and desert dry, and my breathing was becoming rapid and shallow. I put the headphones on, turned on the music, and texted her to ask her to listen for my name because I was scared and overwhelmed and needed to deal with it, and I tried to do that with distraction, music, a stim toy, and the reassurance of my wife holding my hand.

TW / CW: Death, Parental Death, Medical Trauma

I realized later that I should have reflected on what might happen in that environment more than I had instead of trying to distract myself from the heightened anxiety of the previous week. Hospitals hold bad memories for me, memories of my parents sick and dying, in pain, struggling to breathe, hooked up to machines, my Dad with his legs swollen with fluid until it was seeping out of his skin as his heart began to fail, my mom's wheezing, rattling breath from asthma, COPD and pneumonia, and the knowledge (but not the visual image, since neither she nor my Dad had ever let me witness this) of her on a ventilator, multiple times across three separate hospitalizations, until she finally refused a tracheostomy in her last lucid moments. But those images, memories and emotions weren't something I had consciously acknowledged or prepared myself to address, and I had never processed those fears as they related to my own fear for my life. I started having flashbacks to those moments and the emotions I felt surrounding all of that trauma. My parents deaths had hit me hard - the catalyst leading to my emotional collapse and forced unmasking in July 2020 was my mom's death, much as my Dad's death way back in 2003 has been the catalyst for a persistent recurring depression every year leading up to the anniversary of his death, something my wife noticed long before I did (thanks, poor interoception/alexathymia!)

So that was what I was faced with in my own mind as I tried to help the Xanax do its job. I couldn't fathom going back into pre-op unable to speak, I wasn't sure if I could keep my phone with me to help communicate and I was too shakey to write legibly - I was dreading the prospect of trying to make myself understood without words - I am hyperverbal in the sense that words are really my only real means of communication - my nonverbal communication is, essentially, something I had to practice for public speaking in high school (one of the ten events in Academic Decathlon) and I have to force it. The more stressed I get, the flatter my affect and the more my nonverbal communication deteriorates - my learned facial expressions, vocal tones and gestures are the first things to go and the last things to return, replaced by anxious body stims like fist and forearm shaking (like nervous hand flapping, but that requires wrists that actually consistently bend and don't crack and pop painfully, so the arms move but the hands are stiff) or rocking and pacing.

But after about 45 minutes (not bad!) I got my words back and turned down the senses a little. We'd gotten there early and there were some delays, which turned out to be a blessing because I needed that extra time. I was still really anxious on the way back, but it was back to on edge and looking over instead of clinging to the edge by my fingers over the chasm of utter despair and panic.

It... got better. The numerous nurses in pre-op - I lost count and once they took my glasses to store with my clothes, I could barely see their faces to tell them apart, and I am garbage at remembering names - were all super nice, and gently humorous and cheerful, which helped. There was this vibe of "we know how to handle absolutely anything" mixed with "we recognize that patients can be scared shitless, even middle-aged man-shaped creatures, and that's okay and we'll do our best to make it as easy as possible. "

I don't know how much of it was them just being super nice in general, and how much was my conditions being clearly disclosed. I'm going to assume an anxious but otherwise pleasant patient is a lot better than an angry one, so they probably aren't inclined to be anything other than nice, but I'd also like to give them credit for managing to not come across as infantilizing even if I was acting a little like a nervous kid -I don't feel like I vibe "42 year old dude", especially when I'm surrounded by unfamiliar faces. I'm a weird mix of meek and chatty/jokey. My constellation of diagnoses were on my chart and I was upfront about it verbally (yay, words!) When they asked how I was feeling I told them I was super nervous but otherwise okay, and that I am autistic/ADHD, and have audio processing and working memory issues. I'd like to believe it made a difference.

Whatever the reason, nobody seemed phased (yay for not feeling othered!) - they asked what they could do to make me comfortable, gave me a cool heated blanket that I will struggle to describe - it was like an air pillow attached by a hose to a machine blowing warm air - so it was ventilated but still warm - and they each explained what was going to happen next. If I asked them to repeat something, they did so without hesitation, and the same if I asked for clarification, like this fun exchange between a very patient nurse handing me a marker after giving me the relatively simple instructions already, and a still super anxious and confused me:

Befuddled Me: What was this marker for again? I missed some words there... well, a lot of words actually...

Calm nurse: It's to mark the side with the hernia.

Confused Me: Oh, wait, *I'm* supposed to mark which side the hernia is on?

Patient nurse: Yes, that's right, make an X and then initial next to it.

Perplexed me: Oh, shouldn't you do it? You're way more qualified with anatomy and would know where the cuts go.

Bemused nurse: No, it's just to mark which side the hernia is on. The surgeon will know where to cut but the side is critical. We have you do it because you should know better than anybody where it is.

Forgetful Me: Oh yeah, lol - what do I put again?

Incredibly patient nurse: Draw an X in the general area and then initial it.

Me: [successfully draws on myself after figuring out how to write my initials upside down]

Whenever they needed to check the marking (*everybody* checked it), they waited patiently (heh) for me to figure out how to get the stupid hospital gown up high enough while laying on it, and then verified the mark without touching me (the less unnecessary touch, the better). When they had to touch me - like to put in the IV, which is typically not a huge deal for me since needles don't usually bug me - they still asked me first or told me what they needed and why, so I always had a heads up. The anesthesiologist - cool as hell, same first name, joked about it - asked if I'd ever had any issues with anesthesia (oh yeah, horrible dizzyness, confusion and nausea on waking) and he said they could give me something that should help. I kept getting calmer and calmer. By the time the surgeon came by for one final review of everything (and to initial the marks as well) I was... actually pretty good, all things considered. She then asked if she should check the other side with the scope - if there wasn't anything there it wouldn't take much longer and if there was anything to fix it would save having to go back in again later. I agreed (I mean, yeah, scope all the things, just in case). She was super nice. I was pretty much as calm as I was gonna get at that point.

Right before they wheeled me into the OR, they asked if I was ready and if I was feeling any better. I got a little anxious when zero hour came and said I was getting a little wound up again and the Xanax was not really working, but they gave me a minute to soothe and squeeze my wife's hand one last time, and then I was mostly okay again. I nervous shook my fists on the way back and that seemed to help. The OR was too cool looking for me to notice my anxiety as they helped me up onto the table and got me positioned. I asked if the anesthesia would be all in the IV or if there would be gas - the gas during my tonsillectomy smelled gross to me - but they said the only thing in the mask would be oxygen while I went under and that they'd handle everything else after I was out and I probably wouldn't even remember being in the OR at all (I did, because I am always at least a little bit unusual). They put the mask on my face, it did not smell nasty and seemed to be just oxygen and then...

*BOOM* I'm awake, and not like just a little awake, but fully awake and only mildly inebriated. Like, two or three glasses of wine, max. I hear the nurse saying something like "How are you feeling" as my eyes pop open, and I am talking immediately. I don't remember a lot of what I said. I do remember saying my throat was sore and the nurse telling me that was normal because of the breathing tube. Brief moment of "...wut" as I process that - because of the association of intubation with my mom on a ventilator that hits me a little, but instead of a sucker punch to the gut it's more like me smacking myself on the forehead. It's pretty standard, I knew that but conveniently forgot, and I'm actually glad nobody mentioned it to me when I was all wound up. I think I even said that to the nurse.

Apart from that, I don't remember much else of my silly but largely lucid babbling - I was aware I was speaking clearly and only occasionally slurring (motor issues make slurring hit really early in the process of inebriation), and I know I had jokes of the self-deprecating variety. I remember because I remember myself relaying some silliness I had done (maybe doing yoga with hypermobile hips, or running with shin splints since my joints were feeling crunchy, and reminding me of my various self-owns when exercising, as I sat up) but I remember saying "cuz I'm a dumbassss" with a lot of enthusiasm a couple times at least, and a "0/10, do not recommend, hard pass" at least once. I think I even caught a chuckle or even a laugh in response (post-op nurses were also super nice).

I was pretty lucid, all things considered, and within 20 minutes I was basically sober, and asking to see my wife. But I felt gooood, and not doped up (that is never good to me, hate that nasty floaty feeling because it's bad not really movement and confuses my brain and makes me dizzy). I wasn't dizzy at all - the anesthesiologist knocked that shit out of the park (yay anti-nausea drugs!) A solid 11/10, would huff that cocktail in the breathing tube again. I really wanted to tell my wife how good I felt waking up. I was super pumped. There was dopamine. I was in a *really* good mood.

Then some weird but amusing stuff happened right after my wife came in that made me go "Wait, is that not normal?" One of the two nurses noticed my heart rate was really high (for normies, not for my weird-ass self) - like 130. I didn't even notice because lol, 130? That's hardly high for me, especially when I have been anxious for weeks. They rushed off to check with the surgeon and anesthesiologist and came back saying "they said you should be okay, but we'll keep an eye on it." I said something to the effect of "I've seen it as high as 165 while laying down before so I don't even notice 130." I got a shocked look from both nurses and hastily added "that was a drug reaction, the one in my chart. This is just anxiety." Remember that "let's try this and see if it works" comment from wayyyyyy up there? Like, 8, or 9 years ago right before I gave up on doctors? Yeah...

I was next told I needed to drink plenty of fluids (not a problem at all, I was thirsty as hell because I wasn't allowed any liquids after midnight the night before, which had made the mandatory emptying of my bladder a few minutes before going to the OR a bit of a struggle) and was told it was because I had to pee before they could let me go (I had no idea why at the time although my wife said they had told me why. .. audio processing issues strike again.) I did as told and downed a couple of drinks - water, watered down apple juice, watered down cranberry juice, guess they were trying to push more water and less other stuff, or trying to go easy on my sore throat with anything that could be tart or acidic. Can't fault either logic.

The nurse said I could walk to go to the bathroom but that someone had to be with me at all times and it could either be her or my wife - she was nice enough and all but I don't particularly like anybody watching me go, let alone basically a stranger, and I opted for my wife. When I took my first step, with the nurse gently assisting me upright and out of the bed (I felt fine but I had fresh incisions) my ankle snapped loudly - but that is once again totally normal for me. I'd been on my back for several hours and they get like that - my feet overpronate even more without any weight on them than they do when I am standing, and things get out of alignment. The nurse was obviously shocked at the noise and was like "OMG, are you okay?" and I nonchalantly replied, with a little chuckle, "yeah my ankles do that all the time whenever I get out of bed." I got a concerned look in reply that said "whoa, that is *not* normal" and a hesitantly spoken "oh, okay..."

lol, my body is weird

With respect to operation "pee while under strict supervision", my wife was amused by the whole process and just kept asking "are you done yet?", which I wasn't until I gave up after about 5 minutes of standing there with my, well, ya know, in my hand, to literalize that figure of speech. After I failed attempt #1 (my bladder holds a lot), the nurse met me with a wheelchair, not necessary but kind of fun to get wheeled around. The other nurse asked if there was anything else I could drink that might produce the desired results. I perked up (heh) and said "Coffee? Coffee works, do you have any?" She said "Decaf, right?" and I said "regular if you have it, please, please, please" explaining that caffeine calms me down, half-jokingly, and also that it helps me go, totally seriously - it's true about both but with respect to the calming aspect I didn't expect them to believe it. That's a trade secret of the stimulant attenuated sub-class of ADHDers. To my surprise, she said "Sure, how many cream and sugar?" and I just about lost. My Damn. MIND. I had gone without coffee for nearly 18 hours and my soul was withering from lack of caffeine. The Adderall keeps me from getting super bad caffeine headaches, but I needs my coffee, and decaf doesn't hit right. Plus, I really was hoping it would drop my heart rate to ease some of their anxiety. Sounds weird, but I felt bad making these nice folks nervous.

I got my coffee, hot, sweet and creamy to tame the bitterness (not knowing for sure what kind of strange diesel is in a hospital staff coffee maker. I assumed it would be like the sludge my dad and oldest brother made and consumed gallons of working 18 hour days in the military.) It wasn't bad though, although the heat did bug my throat a little, but once I got a good sear in the back of the old esophagus it was golden. And my heart rate eventually dropped back near 100. I knew this because the annoying beeping of my monitor that was so out of sync with my neighbor's in the next bay finally evened out and the dissonant beat became much less irritating. I happily pointed that out the next time the nurse came to check in, only to watch it creep back up after a few seconds. Oh right, nice folks, these nurses, but social anxiety is still a thing and a hospital is still a weird and unfamiliar setting.

Finished off my coffee, another cup of water, and after maybe 10 minutes, I think I'm ready for round two. I get to walk back, supervised again, and within about a minute we're back in business. Weirdest feeling though, because I'm still numbed up from the local anesthesia and I don't feel the muscles like I normally do. Whatever, mission accomplished. I come out with two thumbs up and l'm good to go. I get wheeled out to the Uber, and we have a long ride home in the middle of a heavy rain. But I feel good.

Things are great the first few days. My abs are sore and I'm icing frequently, taking lots of nsaids and Tylenol, but it's really not that bad. I'm used to pain and this isn't all that much worse. I'm able to drive without too much discomfort the next day as a test run, so I head back to work two days post surgery. I'm basically fine.

But my body has a little curveball. After about 5 days, the glue on one of my incisions starts to break apart because of hairs regrowing through it. Once the seal is broken, all hell breaks loose. There is an angry red hive under the glue and it itches horribly. There isn't enough benadryl or hydrocortisone in the world to soothe it and I'm forced to manage it mostly with ice packs and gritted teeth. I'm getting distressed.

It gets worse. The following night I get overheated while sleeping (yay, poor temperature regulation!) and I have a nice bout of the night sweats. This is a problem. The glue on the other two incisions was still intact, but the sweat softens it and it starts to slough off. Worse, the first incision is now bare, and the hive is now covered in water blisters. I'm worried now, because the blisters are going to pop, and that means exposed broken skin, and that means potential infection. Shit.

I call the surgeon's office. I leave a (panicky) message, but it takes a whole to get a call back. Which I miss. Eventually get another call in the late evening (surgeon's hours are no joke) and explain everything as well as I can despite being pretty freaked out. She isn't phased - the reaction is rare but it happens, and it shouldn't affect healing. Get some recommendations on how to manage it, have a little chuckle when I explain that I have an inverted reaction to benadryl (I get wired instead of sleepy) and she responds with mild surprise. I thank her *profusely* and she seems surprised by my reaction but in kind of a genuinely touched sort of way. I guess people calling about minor complications usually don't get all effusive normally.

It's another two weeks before the follow up. I'm managing the hives but it's non-trivial. The blisters burst but heal up okay, and the hives directly around the incisions fade, but others pop up nearby, and eventually wander to anyplace I've ever had an outbreak of hives before. I am now reacting to yet another hypoallergenic deoderant. Yay, armpit hives! But I can deal - this isn't fucking with my healing, it's just annoying. I am able to draw "help" on my belly with my nail and it stays for 45 minutes. Yay, dermatographia!

The day of the follow up I am absolutely on edge. There's nothing wrong per se, but I can't really tell if the incisions are as healed as they should be. I have no frame of reference - never had internal sutures, and never had incisions this deep before. I'm paranoid and looking for anything that looks off. I just can't tell. I get to the office early and park, but then somehow get lost inside the building because of confusing signage. I'm not late because I had plenty of cushion, but I've been wandering around the building stressing out for a while and walking quickly with bad legs and a cane is draining. I finally get checked in and then sit in the waiting room, headphones and fidget cube ready to go so I can calm down for a bit.

But they are ahead of schedule - I get a song and a half in, maybe 5 minutes tops, and I'm still wound up. I go back for my vitals and they are wild: BP 165/95 and He 145. Pretty bad considering they never got that bad hiking 4000 feet up a mountain when I had full mobility. But I know it's anxiety/anticipation. I want thus to go well but I'm terrified something will be wrong. Even worse, after how well I've been treated, I don't want to become a problem patient, having to be seen over and over again for some nagging complications. I've been there, and the doctor in that case quickly got irritated by my distress and my stubborn inability to recover according to his timetable. I couldn't stand for that to happen again, to feel like a failure and a burden.

Fuck, I know that is such an irrational thought process, but try telling that to my emotions. I clearly have some kind of complex but I don't even know what you'd call it. Medical RSD?

But...

[ TL;DR ]

The surgeon comes in, we talk a little, I ask a bunch of questions I've written down, and then she checks the incisions. And they're *fine*. I'm not healing slowly, nothing is going wrong.

I'm *okay*

This is the part where I pause to explain that I have been emotionally numb for years, in the sense that is very hard to express emotions in the moment, and they tend to get stuck until they manifest in distressing ways. I haven't even really been able to feel or express positive emotions even when I knew I was above baseline. I've struggled with an inability to cry in grief or scream in anger or laugh in joy for anything real for myself. Fiction or other's experiences allow me a taste of relief because somehow it's okay to feel for others. Just not myself

But I got swamped by a wave of relief and joy. I could feel it physically like a cool splash on a body that was sizzling with anxiety. I really felt that wash of coolness.

And then I burst into tears. In the surgeon's office. I'm bawling and stuttering out thank yous. The surgeon is taken aback but only briefly. I tell her how much her kindness has meant to me, and how much of a 180 it was from my previous experience. But I can only get so many words out before I can't talk and have to take a deep breath and try to reset to default - nervous but jokey. I'm too overwhelmed to try to articulate anything other than a quip about it being a shame she doesn't fix hips too.

I am fucking stunned. I get to the car and just sit there for minutes trying to process what happened. I head back to work because I finished earlier than I expected, and I sit at my desk, open my email and just... light up. My brain is screaming "LET'S GO!!!" and I feel the dopamine hit. HARD. Harder than my first dose of Adderall. It's almost too much. My vision sharpens and everything looks outlined. I'm reading text... and blazing through it while understanding it. My eyes are tracking, I'm not skipping words or slipping to the next line mid sentence. It's *flowing* like it hasn't in months.

I get shit done. I start tasks, finish tasks, switch tasks. Tasks are happening, and it's just making the dopamine hit harder. I'm buzzing. I get home, I tell my wife that I'm okay, and I'm bawling all over again. I'm a mess but I'm a happy mess. Everything feels different. Every task ahead of me seems doable instead of insurmountable. I feel good even with my wonky hip and my bad knees and my *gestures vaguely at everything except the hernias*. Oh, yeah, I said hernias plural, she found a second one that wasn't visible (an occult hernia - spooky!). That second hernia was pressing on another nerve damaged in that other procedure. Some very distressing chronic pain that I thought was permanent is fading - the worst of it is gone. *Pain is gone* is not something I often get to say. Holy fuck, this fixed things beyond what it was supposed to. How fucking awesome is that?

And my mood is *still* fantastic. It take just a little reflection to bring back the good vibes when something negative happens. It's like Kevlar for negative emotions - it still hits and it still hurts, but it doesn't tear a hole in me. The pain fades. I can feel angry and not spiral into rage. I can feel sad and spiral into despair. I can feel anxious and not spiral into panic. I'm... resilient. Not in the "you've survived something horrible and you're scarred by it, but you're still hanging on despite the trauma" but in the "you haven't sustained trauma from the horrible thing, you've walked through the fire and felt the heat, but not been burned"

So now what? I keep working on it health. I keep this win in my mind, in my box of #things to look at when I'm sad, and I remember what it felt like to turn a corner, and what it felt like to have so many people show me genuine care through a difficult experience that had me on the edge of panic.

I'm on mobile and can't put in a cut, but if anyone makes it through this whole-ass dissertation, I hope you enjoyed the ride, and I hope it gives you a little lift. If it didn't, I will offer to send you gushy messages of thanks for what a wonderfully caring and kind person you are to make up for it. I'm getting really good at that.

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ofmermaidstories · 2 years

Note

I ttly get you on the the cannibalism thing, it's not really my thing but i also think it's such a cool narrative device for the act of consuming and being consumed, be it by feelings positive or negative or any other thing that significantly takes over our lives! Or just for horror sometimes, it depends on the story really sfdsfs It really would depend on what you'd want to do with it really ill read whatyou dish out, i get not wanting to do something that is completely depressing i don't mind a bad ending if that's what the story needs for whatever reason. I dunno what your threshold would be for that though but if mc gets to do a good "if i go i take you with me you assface" it's depressing but enough for me, or maybe "my sacrifice will help whoever tries to solve this situation after me", like a Rogue One situation. The torture porn that ppl are into most of the time and i don't personally like is stories where the mc has no agency whatsoever during the whole thing and doesn't even get revenge in the end, which i think is kinda the point for people who like it (the extreme power imbalance, submissive helpless mc, etc) i'm just too petty for it like sure i wanna suffer but i want to Win in some way in the end. In any case, when it comes to cannibalism i don't often read it unless it's just part of a story im interested in, atm i only remember one recent example of a short little story i liked about a mermaid, so maybe you'll like it? (https://rotworld.tumblr.com/post/188689800352/day-24-feast) (in case u dont wanna read it because of the thang: a village has a yearly tradition of eating mermaid flesh to increasy longevity, so they keep one around too weak to escape n carve her up evey year in the festival to eat it's flesh until they have to catch another. Mc decides to offer themself to the mermaid to eat so that she has enough strenght to escape. At the end the mermaid tells them that flesh from a mermaid freely given gives some type of immortality too, and gives a pieace of herself to mc and boh escape towards the ocean with a little bit of revenge on the side)

PART II:

(also fair warning: while the mermaid story has a happy ending, almost all of rotworld's stories and drabbles have bad ends besides other disturbing themes, so this one is more of an exception than a rule, just in case anyone's thinking of cheking their stuff out, they put warnings!)

Do you have that one thing that, whether it’s rational or irrational, fills you with both revulsion and anger every time you see it? Because I do. And for me it’s this oil painting: Saturn Devouring His Son.

Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes you are my arch nemesis, and I will meet you in Hell old man.

(‼️📍 cw/tw: cannibalism. it’s cannibalism. if you’ve made it this far it’s quite clearly cannibalism. 📍‼️)

How I feel about that hateful painting is how I feel about cannibalism in general LMAO. In poetry? Amazing, 10/10. As a metaphor? Perfect, incredible, 10/10 of ten? An actual act where one human being devours another? NO. And yet—it literally never stops me from interacting with media that features it??? I read the google preview for Tender is the Flesh which was like, a good 30 pages and was… yeah. Yeah. The only reason I didn’t finish it was because my local library doesn’t have a copy and I didn’t want to spend money buying a book and keeping it my home when the very idea of it threw me into such a turmoil that I couldn’t eat meat for a week LMAO. The only other story that’s had that same power over me was Neil Gaiman’s short story for PETA (“Babycakes”. I read it on the train home years ago and was so upset I had to call someone and be talked off the metaphorical ledge). And yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like??????????? Hannibal is one of my favourite TV shows—I bought the damn series on youtube!!!—and Silence of the Lambs is one of my favourite movies!!!!!! Attack on Titan??? One of my favourite animes precisely because of the horror.

I couldn’t tell you what the difference is. Maybe it’s that Tender was written by a woman who eventually stopped eating meat herself. I used to follow the chef that worked on Hannibal, here on tumblr, and reading her thoughts about like, how to replicate certain cuts of long-pork with real pork (or beef or whatever) was always fascinating. It has never had the same kind of horrified chokehold on me and oh my god i can feel myself spiralling LMAO i hate it here (it’s fine, im fine).

ANYWAYS, the Moonfish idea I threw out in the open was a random one, because to me Dark Content should cover topics that are unsettling, and unsettling for me is the horrific idea that you might come face-to-face with your end and can see it clearly and know—it’s gonna be slow, and it’s gonna be awful. The inescapable horror of both your mortality and pain.

(And also it’s mainly because my other favourite genre to read is Whump, and I really like the idea of taking whatever fave character we have atm and fridging the love of their life LOL i’m sorry, im no better than a man……. murdering the love interest for male motivation 😔🔫 it’s probably never going to happen, it’s just gonna be a horrible little AU that sits in my brain and rots me from the inside out, it’s fine, this is fine)

Idk, Spookies, I agree with you that if you’re gonna read something as heavy as devouring then like, there needs to be some kind of emotional pay off, even if it’s vindication or melancholy. I’d argue that’s especially important in a POV as intimate as second-person!!! You’re right in there in the trenches—if you’re being dragged through the mud boots first then like, you need some kind of satisfaction. I read the rotworld fic you linked—rotworld is a lovely writer, and I felt nothing but dread the entire way through that piece 🥺 Hopefully both of them are happy, out there in the ocean somewhere.

(i think im gonna make a salad tomorrow night… with lots of croutons and absolutely no seafood or meat. i hope your weekend treats you gently, Spookies 🌷✨🍐)

#ofmermaidstories-asks #‼️📍 content warnings at beginning of post 📍‼️#cw.cannibalism #tw.cannibalism #mermaids drown people: dark content #goodnight sleep tight: bed time queue

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scoopsahoy · 4 years

Note

Maybe reader listening to Steve give Dustin relationship advice in 'The Spy' and in 'The gate' and they're basically just really confused?

ぺ word count ⋰ 1k

✰ tw ⋰ none :)

❍ cw ⋰ swearing

✐ masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

You followed close behind the unexpected duo of Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson, helping them lay down raw meat on the train tracks, still not grasping the concept of what they were doing.

You knew they were trying to attract some creature, but what it was still wasn’t clear. But you and Steve were supposed to hang out that day, so you went with him.

The yellow gloves made your hands sweaty, and your feet were aching. The bucket handle was hurting your fingers, and the smell of the raw meat hurt your nose.

“All right, so let me get this straight,” Steve said as you lingered behind. “You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?”

“All right, that’s grossly oversimplifying things.”

“I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?”

“An interdimensional slug? Because it’s awesome.”

“Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn’t, I-I just... I don’t know. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard.”

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?”

You rolled your eyes at the hair joke.

“It’s not about the hair, man. The key with girls is just... acting like you don’t care.”

You raised your eyebrows, stopping in your tracks for a few seconds as you processed his advice.

“Even if you do?”

“Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you corrected, shaking your head.

Steve groaned before directing his attention back at Dustin.

“Then what?” Dustin said.

“You just wait until, uh... until you feel it.”

“Feel what?”

“It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?”

“Oh, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere-”

“No, no, no, no, no. Like a... Like a sexual electricity.”

“Oh.”

“You feel that, and then you make your move.”

“So that’s when you kiss her?”

“No,” you and Steve said in unison.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Romeo.”

“Sorry.”

“Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a... I dunno, like a lion. But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a... like a ninja.”

“What type is Nancy?”

“Nancy’s different. She’s different than the other girls.” Another eye roll came from you as you tried — rather unsuccessfully — to block their conversation out.

“Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess.”

“Yeah, yeah, she is.”

After Steve told Dustin how to style his hair and pick up girls, you pulled him aside as the small one kept walking.

“Listen, Steve, I know you’re trying to be helpful, but maybe you shouldn’t be giving sex advice to a fourteen-year-old boy.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because he’s fourteen.”

“So?”

You sighed. “Well, telling him to prance like a lion while being stealthy like a ninja... that’s not the way to pick up girls.”

“Worked for me.”

“Yeah? And how many of them were just hookups?” He didn’t answer. “Look, you’re my best friend, and I love you, but maybe you should leave the advice to me. A girl.”

He nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll just tell him to talk to you if he has questions.”

“Good.” After a few seconds of silence, you smiled. “Farrah Fawcett spray?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. And, like I told him, if you tell anyone I told you that, you’re dead, Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, got it. I’ll keep your dirty little secret.”

—

You sat in the backseat of Steve’s car, helping him chaperone Dustin to the Snowball dance. When he parked, you leaned forward and rested your elbows on the seats.

Getting a good look at Dustin’s attempt at a mullet made you chuckle to yourself.

“What?” he asked you in an offended tone.

“Nothing, you just look like a dork.”

He rolled his eyes before Steve got his attention.

“All right, buddy, here we are. So, remember, once you get in there-”

“Pretend like I don’t care.”

“You don’t care.”

“I don’t care!”

You rolled your eyes. You were honestly shocked that Dustin was taking his advice, despite you warning him that it wouldn’t work, especially on Max.

“There you go. You’re learning, my friend. You’re learning.”

Dustin adjusted the rearview mirror to check his hair one last time before Steve fixed it back.

“Hey,” Steve exclaimed.

“What?”

“Come on. You look great, okay? You look... You look great. Okay? Now you’re gonna go in there...”

“Yeah.”

“Look like a million bucks.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”

“Like a lion.” He purred at Steve, showing off his teeth. You both gave him a confused look, Steve inhaling sharply through his teeth.

“Yeah... Don’t do that, okay?”

“Okay.”

Steve stuck his hand out and they shook. “Good luck.”

Dustin nodded before you got his attention. “If I were you, I’d just be nice to her. You’re a charming kid, Dustin. You’ll get any girl’s attention, especially with that... hairdo.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I know so. And don’t act like you don’t care, girls hate that shit. If you like her, she deserves to know. Just ask her to dance, and I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

He nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. Like Steve said, go slay ‘em dead.”

He opened the door and got out before you climbed over the seat and plopped down next to Steve. You both watched him walk in before you looked at him to see he was staring at you.

“What?” you asked.

“You ruined my advice.”

“Good. It was awful advice,” you joked. You watched his eyes travel inside, and you looked to see if you could find what caught his attention.

You saw Nancy at the punch table, her hair curled in tight ringlets, wearing a plaid dress. She looked beautiful, but seeing him still gushing over her made you sigh.

You waved a hand in front of his face, breaking his focus.

“Hey, Romeo, you wanna stop staring like a creep?”

He looked at you. “Sorry.”

“Now, are we going through a drive-thru like you promised? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, sure. If you admit my advice was good.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just starve,” you said in a fake defeated tone.

You both laughed before he put his car in drive and you rode off towards a restaurant still open.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x reader fanfiction #steve harrington x reader imagine #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine

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dystopiandilfs · 3 years

Note

Thoughts on the Tadca tag? I believe it's only a twitter thing that centers around c! Tommy and c! Dream's relationship. I did some digging and the tag was said to only be used so people who wouldn't want to see c!discduo's relationship can easily blacklist it.

Tbh I understand why that is— considering in rp they don't really have the healthiest of relationship— but like, why not tag it with tw//manipulation, gaslighting or even abuse? Considering that honestly, it's expected of their characters to interact in a toxic manner (speaking as a c! Dream Enjoyer and yes I fully acknowledge his wrongdoings and yes I can still enjoy the mystery around his character).

Another thing is that, there are some questionable content made under it. Perhaps the blanket statement of "c! Tommy's relationship with c! Dream" has invited really weird interpretations of them. One of which is c!Dream being obsessed over c!Tommy (i.e. c!Dream being possessive and wanting to be c!Tommy's only friend, c!Dream being protective over the scar c!Tommy gave him etc.) to which imo, is very OOC. C! Dream's obsession is towards c!Tommy's purpose, that he's a means to an end and imprisoning him could bring the server back to its former self.

While I'm fine with interpretting fictional relationships differently in a way considered as taboo (i.e. over possessiveness, stalkish behavior etc.) for the sake of exploring how taboo relationships work, I think Dsmp seems to be the type of media where interpretations like that seems... Weird as hell? Maybe because these fictional characters are tied to real people? I dunno.

Tldr: I understand using the Tadca tag for easy blacklisting but I don't understand what the contents of the Tadca tag should be in the first place. The blanket statement of "Exploring c! Dream and c!Tommy's relationship" has invited really weirdchamp interpretations that seems to (accidentally or purposefully) misinterpret c!Dream's 'obsession' towards c!Tommy.

From what I understand the tag was originally used to shorten the whole cw and tw tags because they'd take up an entire tweet. It was originally to discuss pre election Tommy and Dream things (as it was created long before exile) like the original disc hunt and Dream purposely digging out area around Tommy's base "to spy on him" which btw wasn't what it was originally.

Originally the whole tunnel system was because Tommy had asked Dream to random appear in the background of his stream like a presence over his shoulder and Dream did it to make travelling easier. It then got randomly added to lore by fans in headcanons just after the election and Tommy went along with it. There's a clip somewhere of him talking about it and then showing off the tunnels and mini secret hideouts.

Tommy and Dream catch all or Tadca was supposed to be tag where you talk about Tommy and Dream's canon relationship but then some weirdos started to flood the tag with extremely gore based art which wasn't what the tag was for since it was meant solely to discuss the story, theories and headcanons without having to add 37 separate trigger tags.

The tag creator then asked people to stop using it because of the weird art being tagged with tadca so the tag stopped being used as often until recently a tweet that contained a gross drawing circulated around that used the tadca tag and bought up the entire thing again.

From what I've gathered the tag was originally made by a group of inniters to discuss Dream and Tommy's canonical relationship without having to rewrite all the trigger tags each time.

Unfortunately like the internet does the tag got ruined by some gross people deciding to put some disgusting nsfw art of a minor and an adult in the tag which in turn gave the once innocent tag a shitty name.

Personally I think it's best to not use that tag and if they want to discuss anything to do with DreamSMP discduo they should just tag it //c!discduo. I personally never understood the point of needing to use all the trigger tags when discussing DreamSMP things mainly because you should expect the mentions of manipulation, blood etc. It's like watching a cult classic horror film and getting upset that there wasn't a bunch of content and trigger tags everywhere. If you're on DreamSMP twt then you should expect potentially triggering topics to be bought up.

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dragonsplz · 3 years

Text

tw/cw again i think?

maybe this thing will hide it a little bit? i dunno, if someone actually does stumble upon this shit let me know if i can make it so you have to actively click something to be able to see the content like idk discord spoilers? anyways a couple days i took a bar and a half of xanax plus 2x my regular dose (i have only abused my xanax once in the past because generally i was just pretty worried about running out and not having any any when i needed them but the xans pretty much stopped working so my psychiatrist put me on klonopin but ironically i’ve been too anxious to go to the walgreens to get them) anyways yeah massive amount of xanax for little me and according to my housemates i lost like three days of time and did some wack ass shit and i remember none of it but anyways i have finally returned to a state of consciousness slightly above the level of my snails’ and I Feel Good But In A Bad Way. i feel very,,,,, out of control and part of me is like you have So Much Access you really could just drop a bar every now and again and it’s like I'm craving it like i Understand vaguely what it’s probably like to have an addiction and i know if i am not careful i will have one but i don’t really care about the state of my body anymore i don’t think. at least not for now. i stopped cutting awhile ago because i moved and now there’s not really anywhere i’d be able to without somebody noticing but i also gave myself a concussion and i don’t even think i thought about doing it before i did it but anyways i don’t know if what i’m craving is some high i can’t remember or if it’s the not remembering things. i don’t like really have any concept of time so i can’t tell how long it’s been but i think i’ve generally been stoned at least once a day. sometimes i feel bad and swear it off but then like two hours later I'm on the back porch with a preroll. i think maybe thats addiction, too, but weed won’t kill me so i don’t really think about that much. anyways today after i regained consciousness (i was on the kitchen floor and was like in and out of it for two or three hours) i spent several hours just wandering back and forth from the big recliner in the living room and the kitchen because my housemates said they hadn’t been able to get me to eat for the past couple days but everything just kinda sounded disgusting. i think i managed to get down a slice and a half of three-day-old pizza. honestly i feel really bad because my grandmother sent me home after thanksgiving (dw, cover tests before and quarantine after) with the homemade rolls i really love and i think i’ve eaten maybe one and I'm honestly scared to look at them because they’ve probably gone bad by now and i just wasted food my siblings could have been eating. i didn’t even realize how much i still thought like that until i moved out. like obviously even being away i feel like that. and i think i’ve been hallucinating/having delusions but I'm scared if i tell my psychiatrist she’ll call my grandmother and tell her (and i think she already called her when i told her i was having suicidal ideations again) and/or call the authorities and have me hospitalized. so like thats scary and all and i can’t tell if maybe i’ve developed Something New or if it’s just some new fresh hell of a mixture of my depression/anxiety/ptsd and of course i want it to stop but man i am so afraid of going back into the hospital I'm already kind of a disordered eater and last time i was in the hospital i lost 10 lbs in 9 days and I Took Note Of That. also they wouldn’t let me have my binder but the girls are allowed to have bras and they misgendered me and deadnamed me but they let me have a room alone but i can’t remember if the rumor about depression during the holidays is true and i really don’t think i can afford to be roomed in a girls’ room with another actual girl-identifying person like i really think that dysphoria would kill me like i really think i would pull a kyler and man i miss kyler so bad man i was never allowed to grieve his death like my grandmother really forced me to go back to school the weekend after i found out he killed him. idk sometimes i think his suicide affected me worse than royce’s and royce lived in my dorm. i had classes with royce. but maybe it’s because i can’t really remember much from freshman year anyways. also damn this is long and i think i maybe had a point when i started writing this but it is long gone by now. i keep getting distracted by everything but when i started writing that chapbook like nothing disturbed me i got up once to make Another cup of coffee but otherwise i just sat in that recliner typing. i wrote 25 entire pages between the time that i ate the pizza and idk sometime before now but there were really no milestones between eating the pizza and now and i actually really have no concept of time so i don’t actually know how long that was but it felt like no time and forever all at once and i feel like that a lot but it might just be the weed. i think i used to use weed as a coping mechanism but now i feel that there’s no point. i said to my housemates today that i feel like if albert camus had a character that was an existential father of three with a really dark sense of humor and i feel like a good dad as this character but also i really can’t stand children like a friend of a friend asked me to babysit for her and it’s not like i didn’t have empathy like i did an interview with her at the beginning of covid when she was pregnant and i thought my senior thesis was going to be on covid and i was so excited doing the interviews like man do i have anthropology brain but never transcribed them so it’s a good thing i withdrew from the semester because my peers have all recently had their thesis deadlines and i definitely would not have met them. oh but anyways I'm sorry everything is distracting me but also what am i say I'm really just throwing this into the void of the universe via the internet so nobody is actually trying to follow this anyways it wasn’t like i didn’t have empathy for her but i knew she had other options and her child upset and disgusted and drained me of all of my energy so i said no but i don't think that makes me a horrible person. oh but anyways a tangent on a tangent i guess because i think i started this tangent intending to end the other tangent where i say i think it’s just muscle memory now and not a coping mechanism but my housemates still thinks it helps so sometimes they’ll bring me one of my prerolls which is nice and all but i can't help but think how lost they would be if i was having a really hard time and they tried to give me my vape or something but i told them i was quitting? like dw it’s not like toxic the way this is happening i promise but i don’t actually know how to phrase it in a way that doesn’t sound Like That. anyways i hope nobody finds this but if somebody does please know that while i am vaguely concerned, i am safe. at least for now.

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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 2 years

Text

Prominence [WCh. 65]

Social Media AU ; Idol AU ; Added Unit AU

TW: Language

CW: None

Genre: Comedy, Romance

Pairing: NCT x Idol!Reader, Park Seonghwa x Idol!Reader

Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her)

(W65/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[Main Masterlist] | [Prominence Masterlist]

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: Not sure what to put in the notes today…

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

With a heavy sigh, Seonghwa put his phone down. He doesn't know what he was expecting when Wooyoung suddenly shook him awake asking him rapid fire questions, but seeing a picture of you out with your ex certainly wasn't one of them. He rubbed the middle of his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. He recognized a few people in the picture, he was sure he could see Carson and Rebecca off to the sides, he's never met them personally but you've shown pictures of them to him. Then, of course, there was you and Daniel in the center. You called him a few days ago during this meet up and you've told him that something felt off, but he couldn't help but feel strange about this whole circumstance. A quiet whimper led him to look down, seeing Mars at his foot. The pup laid his head on Seonghwa's foot and sighed.

"Yeah, I'm worried about her too, bud," he reaches down and scratches the area between Mars' ears. "Your mom's in a lot of trouble right now," he nods slowly. He had to call you soon, there's no way your company took this lightly, and to be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure on how he felt about you talking to previous lovers. Seonghwa would say he's a pretty reasonable guy, definitely far from the jealous type, but there was just something odd about you with Daniel that threw him off. He trusted you, he really did, and he knew as well as anyone that pictures hid so many things, but with everything else going on he had a right to be skeptical. Dare he go on Twitter right now? Dare he see what kinds of bull shit people were saying this time?

Before he could make that choice, your contact appeared on his phone. He answered it before the first ring could end.

"(Y/N)," he stood up. At the sound of your name, Mars' ears quirked up and he sat up with his tail wagging. "(Y/N), are you alright?"

"It's really bad, Hwa, I don't... I don't even know what's going on," your voice was shaky. "First there were, like, I dunno, three or so tiktoks? Then the picture on Twitter and... fuck, it's really bad."

"Just take a deep breath, (Y/N). It had to be from when you went out with your friends, right?" Seonghwa took a deep breath himself.

"Right, yeah. I showed up late and suddenly Daniel did too. I didn't even know that they invited him, but I guess it was out of courtesy or whatever," you spoke quickly, a telltale sign of how stressed you were on the situation.

"And you really have no clue who could've taken the picture?"

"No, Hwa, I don't know who took the picture, but I promise you that nothing is going on," you sounded worried. "It's not anything bad. I've told you about him before too, I just don't know what the hell he's doing posting shit from...

"(Y/N), deep breaths. It's going to be okay."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay?! I'll try to fix this, I promise. I'll talk to him and..."

"No, don't do that, don't talk to him yourself," Seonghwa started pacing his room. If you were seen even in the same room with your ex then this would no doubt become an even bigger scandal, and he knows that neither of you can handle that right now.

"What do you mean?"

"Just think about it, (Y/N)."

"Well if I don't talk to him then it's only going to get worse and... argh, I hate this so much."

"I know, I know. And to be perfectly honest with you, (Y/N), I do too," Seonghwa caught himself when he realized the tone he was using. But he believed himself to be justified in this situation. It's one thing to hang out with Yangyang, your best friend who Seonghwa just knew liked you as much as he did, but it's another thing to be with someone you'd previously been in a relationship with. And after seeing those tiktoks, he was scared. And that was such a strange thing to admit, why did he feel scared of this person? Scared of losing you? Was that it? He took another deep breath as Mars tried to nudge him back to his bed.

"I said I was sorry... I just..."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, (Y/N). You just should've been more careful," Seonghwa sits on his bed to appease Mars.

"Yeah, I know I should've been more careful going out with friends, but I didn't even know that they invited him, Hwa!" Your voice was louder now, and Seonghwa felt his own anger grow.

"Still! You couldn't have, I don't know, moved to another seat? Told him to sit somewhere else? (Y/N), to put it bluntly, people are out for your neck and you think you can be so reckless to sit next to your ex-boyfriend? I want to believe you that nothing's going on, and I do. But this whole thing is your fault, (Y/N)," Mars barked next to him, standing in an offensive stance. Seonghwa covered the speaker of the phone and glared at Mars. "Shh. Bad boy," he scolds Mars. Mars' ears move downwards before he barked again. "Quiet," Seonghwa commanded. Mars only growled. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What the hell do you mean 'it's my fault'?!" Your voice dripped with anger and Seonghwa clenched his jaw.

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant."

"No, no, explain yourself. I've been perfectly fine with you visiting your high school friends, hell, I've even met some of them and they're all wonderful people, how's this any different?" You had a point there, you'd been nothing but understanding, especially given the fact that similar to your situation, a lot of his high school friends had been girls. None of which he dated seriously, at least, but when he explained it to you, you were only understanding of it all. "And let me remind you that I didn't know that they invited my ex to our get-together, my ex who I have not dated nor spoken to for three goddamn years. Now, please, explain to me how this is my fault?" Seonghwa stayed silent. You were right on this.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. All of this was just poorly timed..." Seonghwa rests his arms on his knees and leans over them slightly. Seonghwa felt Mars hop onto his bed and soon the pup squirmed onto his lap, trying to help him calm down no doubt.

"I'm sorry, I know, I don't... we're both just really tired and now with this hounding us... I'm so sorry, Seonghwa. I'll fix this, I promise you. He's my ex anyway, I just have to do some digging to find his number. God, this couldn't have come at a worse time."

"It really couldn't have. It never does with you," he bites back his tongue when he heard your quiet gasp.

"I gotta go." You weren't alright. "I'll call you back once I've figured out what I'm going to do. Just... just don't open any of your Universe messages, yeah? I took a quick look at my Bubble ones and... fuck, this is going to be horrible. Bye, I'm sorry again, I really am, I'm..." He hung up the phone before tossing it on the pillow next to him. Again, a long and drawn out sigh left his mouth and he leaned against the wall. After a few minutes, he gets up and opens the door to his room, San and Mingi stumbling back. Seonghwa stares at them, he really should scold them for eavesdropping, but he really didn't have the energy right now. Mars followed him out and bit the bottom of his shirt.

"Mars, heel," Seonghwa held his hand out. The dog didn't relent, instead he tried to pull him towards the door. "Bad dog! Heel!" Seonghwa commands once again. Still, Mars didn't budge. Seonghwa grabbed a hold of Mars' collar and then under his head, trying to gently pry the dog off of his shirt. Finally, after an eternity, Mars let go and barked. Seonghwa looked over to the clock, it was a good couple of hours before Mars had to go on his walk, but maybe the conversation riled him up or something. The door to the dorms opened and Yunho walked in. But, and this caused Seonghwa's heart to jump out of his chest, Mars bolted out of the door. Once realization hit, the eight members ran out.

"Mars!" Wooyoung cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted as they ran down the hall. Then, and Seonghwa would've thought this was impossible if not for the warning about how this breed was too smart for their own good that he received when he first adopted the shiba, he spotted Mars sitting in the elevator as the doors closed.

"How does he know how to do that?!" Hongjoong waves his hands in the air and Yeosang noticeably looks away.

"I... uh... That may be my fault," he clears his throat.

"How the hell did you teach a dog how to use the elevator?!" Mingi shouts.

"I don't know! I was just taking him out for a walk one day and he pressed the button himself!"

"How does that even work?!"

"He used his snout!"

"The dog is getting away!" Wooyoung interrupts the conversation and they all dispersed, a few taking the stairs and a few going into the other elevator. Seonghwa was part of the former group with Mingi, San, and Jongho. The quartet ran out of the building and looked every which way. Seonghwa and Jongho took off to the right while Mingi and San moved to the left, the opposite reactions soon brought them back together.

"Why are you going that way?!" Seonghwa asks.

"Uh, we should be asking you that!" Mingi responds.

"Mars' walking route is that way!" Seonghwa points behind him.

"What do you mean?! I've been taking him this way!" San takes a step back.

"What?! Why would you do that?"

"I thought that was the right way!" Mingi adds on. Jongho just takes off in the original direction he went in.

"Well, one of us is bound to find him. He's barely a year old, how far could he have gotten?" Seonghwa shakes his head and the quartet break once again, filled in by the remaining four members who see them running off in opposite directions.

When a car rushed by him, Seonghwa could only think of the worst possible outcome. He shook it out of his head, he's pretty sure that Mars was smart enough not to cross the street so suddenly, or at least he hoped so. If he was smart enough to know his own walking route then that should be fine, at least. Seonghwa couldn't do this to you, you already had this whole scandal going on and god forbid you found out that Mars ran off he was certain you'd pass out on the spot.

"Mars! Mars come here!" Seonghwa shouts.

But, Seonghwa was right about one thing, Mars is a very smart dog. So smart that he hid behind a trashcan right as Yeosang ran behind him. He waited for the light to turn green before crossing the street with the crowd of people, happily trotting along the sidewalks of Seoul. He'd walked this route many times, sometimes with the one they called Winwin and sometimes with the one they called Jongho. He usually had more fun when the one they called Johnny took him to his dad's house, though, because he always gave him pizza. Mars easily dodged the busy footsteps of people commuting around, and he ignored the grabby hands of children and other passerbys. He stops at an intersection, looking both ways before crossing the street. He was pretty sure that he was almost to his mom's home. The hardest part would be getting in.

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