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coasttocoastusa · 4 months

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Well hello there, look what I did today!!!

I cannot even begin to tell you how much of a leap today was for me. I said in the last post that I haven’t flown for 6 years. I don’t know if I mentioned that since then I’ve tried to fly a few times with varying levels of success. First, I made it as far as the gate and turned back, the time after that I didn’t even make it to the airport. So… I didn’t want to get too excited about the chances of today happening. Mainly I didn’t want to jinx it but also there are factors beyond my fear of flying that come into play on the day. But, I did it!!! And I didn’t without any medication and without a companion 🙌🏻

So let me fill you in on how I got to this point.

I’ve known about fear of flying programmes for a while now. They’re not necessarily cheap and until recently I didn’t think I was in the right head space to try it. A couple of months ago though I started paying privately for counselling. I have a session every week and we deep dive into everything in my life from childhood to what happened in work that week. It’s been giving me a lot of confidence particularly in the wake of my recent at-sea meltdown.

And so, about two weeks ago I decided to sign up for the EasyJet Fearless Flyers course. When I tell you it took me a week to even book it because I was so scared I am not exaggerating. Everytime I thought about it my heart rate went up. I would talk about it but then it would keep me awake at night thinking about what could happen if I did the course.

I found the courage to book it just before my second counselling session focussing on my fear of flying. I’m not gonna lie I told my counsellor I would see how the course was and fill her in at the second session… then panicked because I hadn’t booked it and thought she’d tell me off, so it was much more about being told off than feeling capable 😂

What I didn’t expect is that by the end of my first run through the course I would feel excited!!! I am not joking, of all the emotions I was expecting that was not one I considered most realistic. The course ran through a number of things that we were told needed to be done in that specific order. It started with a couple of modules about the psychology of fear and what your brain does when you have a phobia. Then there were some modules where a pilot answered previous questions from participants. There were varying degrees of realism to these questions… “Will the wing fall off” was one of them… that’s when I realised “oh wow, brains really do come up with some insane scenarios don’t they”… you’ll be relieved to know that obviously the wing cannot fall off.

The most important part of the Q and A for me was the explanation of crosswind landings. It wasn’t hugely in depth but it was enough to know what I wish I’d have known as I was experiencing one. Clearly it was enough reassurance to get me on the plane anyway!

The final modules focussed on coping mechanisms. I was shaky because the first two techniques didn’t work for me. One focussed on breathing (given my past of health anxiety focussing on my breathing stresses me out more). The second focussed on visualising. I am one of a number of awkward people who happen to have a thing called Aphantasia. That means I can’t visualise anything, like when I close my eyes and try to imagine it’s just black no matter how hard I try 🤦🏼‍♀️

But the third one!!! It worked! I don’t know how it worked but it did. Something about tapping certain parts of your body in a particular order. You have to feel your fear as much as possible before you tap and somehow it resets you, like you’re restarting a computer.

Armed with this knowledge that not only was I in control but I was able to help myself if I panicked I managed to stay calm in the run up to the flight. I’m not joking, I even got a full nights sleep last night, that’s completely unheard of for me before a flight.

So today, I went to the airport. The universe was testing me the whole time. I got to the check-in desk and they’d lost the pack with my name on it so I had to stand to the side. In the past I would have spiralled thinking it was a sign that I wasn’t meant to get on the flight but I didn’t. I waited and it turned out it was just stuck to another pack. Then I went through security and set off the alarm thing, they did a whole search and I was so focussed on the flight that I forgot I HAVE A METAL ANKLE!!! 😂🙈

So on I went, there was a lot of waiting. The flight was delayed… I had so much time to reconsider boarding. I didn’t even consider reconsidering because I knew I wanted to do this. I was first in the line at the gate, ME?!

As I boarded the anxiety began to creep in more, as we sat there waiting to taxi I was bored more than anything but as we set off down the runway the nerves hit big time! I would say take-off is my least favourite part of flying. There are sensations I’m not used to, there’s no going back even if you wanted to and you’re out of control. As we bumped up into the air (lots of wind, a very light plane) I tapped away and I checked on my new friend that I made who was across the aisle from me. We did it!!!

The flight was bumpy, we were in the air for 35 minutes and I’d say 90% was turbulent. Before this course, had I made it onto the plane I’d have panicked big time. This time though, we had a pilot talking us through every sensation, every noise, every boring little movement of the plane mechanics (I honestly think a big part of this process is to bore you into submission with technical speak until you realise you’re not a pilot and you don’t want to be 😂). So yes, I was anxious but nowhere near the levels I would usually be. I had a bonus moment of asking if I could use the toilet since the seatbelt sign was now off, as I was on the toilet I heard them announce “I would encourage you all to walk around, even use the toilet if you need to, I know some of you will never have done that on a plane” and the level of smug I felt for getting in there first and avoiding the rush was honestly worth it!

As we flew through the sky, I had a moment of clarity. A moment where I popped on my favourite flying song (California by Phantom Planet) and welled up as I looked out at the clouds. I just genuinely did not think I would ever fly again given the number of times I’ve tried over the years! It was incredible to know I’d done this all by myself. My success wasn’t tied to anyone else, I didn’t need anyone by my side because I did this alone! (And without medication no less!!!) .

I’ve only ever flown once before by myself, coming back from Turkey through a thunderstorm. It was solidly turbulent for hours 🤦🏼‍♀️ back then I had been on edge but it hadn’t been enough to stop me flying again. I’m hoping that today was a return to that mindset. My current motto is “uncomfortable is not unsafe” it’s something I’ve been reminding myself because of my meltdowns. When you’re in full blown meltdown mode it is one of the most horrible feelings but you’re safe, it’s your brain telling you to slow down but it’s not telling you you’re unsafe which is how I often read it.

On that same theme, my biggest take away from this entire thing has been “you wouldn’t expect the sea to fall away from underneath a ship and in the same way the air can’t fall from underneath a plane either” so as we bumped on through the clouds on our way back to the ground I thought about the ground as the bottom of the sea. It helped a lot, there was much less “gripping” as we bumped on by. After we landed they told us that that was on the bumpier end of landing and that we should be proud. I would say it was almost to the level of the turbulence before the crosswind landing I had. It was uncomfortable but I was glad! Had we had a perfect flight today I’d have worried about the possibility of turbulence in the future. Now I know that next time will probably be much more steady.

It’s now about 7 hours after landing and I’m overstimulated af but I’m so proud of myself. I never thought I would fly again, I definitely never thought I’d fly alone! It’s the best kind of overstimulation because it’s rooted in happiness and excitement and pride.

I cannot wait to keep chipping away at this fear. I’m hoping to fly again really soon, they told us today to keep flying regularly so we can continue putting the work in. That’s the plan, I just cannot wait to get back out there!!!

#phobia #travel #neurodivergent #flying

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apenapaperandadoofus · 4 years

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in relation to my drowsy share, anyway can we have the rfa + minor trio's take on an mc that is so crazy for a fictional character meanwhile they are in love with mc? they be like: hELLo - crackhead anon

Hey there crackhead anon! I’ve missed yaaaaa

RFA+minor trio with an MC who is in love with fictional characters (instead of them *insert sad violin music*)

Part 2 here!

Zen:

Aight listen

At first he’s chill about it

He just thinks you don’t know how to pick up hints, because he’s literally been flirting with you for a while now

But then, after time passes and you still don’t realize he’s hitting on you, and you’re still sort of fangirling over this fictional character, he WILL be a bit mad

I mean why do you need to romance 2d boys when he’s there??? Do you just not like him??? What was wrong with him, mC pLeAsE

Truth be told, he will try and act like your anime/game character. He WILL do it, all he can to get you to understand he LIKES you

You like angry bois? He will become an angry boy. Tsunderes? Well, it’s not like he l-likes you or anything baka! Cool flirty type? He will up his game

Although it takes a while, Zen finds out one of your favorite confessions from your favorite game, and decides to copy it! He will be all romantic and everything

Thankfully you were FINALLY able to understand that he likes you, and it’ll probably be a funny story you tell everyone in the RFA

Yoosung:

Angry boi angry boi

Yoosung has never flirted in his life

Well, he’s not good at it, it’s not something he has really done before

Imagine the PAIN this poor guy must be through when he finally takes the courage to flirt and...

You don’t get it

HOW?

Zen has even tried giving Yoosung some advice, which usually works,but you’re still not picking up his hints!

One day Yoosung finds you smiling at your phone screen and he’s lowkey ready to fuck a bitch up

But then he sees you’re playing a game... ANS GETS EVEN MORE JEALOUS

I mean, come on! You’re choosing an AI over him? Why MC WHY T_T

After curling up in his bed and crying for three hours, Yoosung decided to just tell you and get it over with.

He was really scared, and his hands shook as he dialed up your number.

You immediatly answered, which made him let out a little yelp, and after a bit of stammering Yoosung decided to confess his feelings for you.

“I...I love you Y/N. And, I-I know I’m not exactly your type of guy...like the ones in your game. I’m not really like...like them but I, I promise I will do my best to become the type of man you want to be with!”

....

“Y/N please speak I am panicking.”

You laughed. “It’s alright Yoosung. Truth is...I like you too...and you’re exactly like the guy in my game, why do you even think I was romancing him? You don’t have to change, I love you for who you are.”

Yoosung tried his best to hold back his tears, and after the two of you hung up he gave a little WHOOP

Jaehee:

So, Jaehee was really taken aback when she realized that she had feelings for you. After all, she never really thought about having a partner before

She was really new to the experience. Sure, she had been confessed to in her high school days (I mean look at her she probably got so many love letters AHG) but that was all she knew.

So she went to Zen for advice, which was great! The thing neither of you had planned though, was that you would be far too focused on your anime waifus to realize that Jaehee was flirting with you

Honestly she isn’t even mad. She’s just confused. I mean, she gets what it’s like idolizing someone, but I mean, Zen was real.

So Jaehee lays low for a while. To be honest, she feels a bit jealous whenever you gush and fawn over this character, or this other character, because your eyes light up in such a beautiful way, she can’t help but want them to light up like that for her.

After months and months, Zen finally decides to tell you that Jaehee likes you. He had taken you out to dinner, and you almost dropped your fork when he told you.

Immediatly, he drove you to Jaehee’s house. She came out in her cute pijamas, with no glasses on. You were honestly about to die.

After saying bye (and thanks) to Zen, you went to sit with Jaehee in her living room, and there you confessed your feelings for her. Jaehee was super confused,after all you would never shut up about the character you liked, and she really believed she had no shot. Yet, here you are, confessing to her. Jaehee can’t help but smile and blush.

She will always tease you about your character crushes, but she understands you. She has even found a few of her own! (But she’ll never tell you.)

Jaehee thinks it’s really funny how you never understood that she was trying to give you hints, or even the time she used a pick up line on you (Zen’s idea) and you two laugh about it when you lay in bed, cuddling.

Jumin:

He is very confused

First of all, he’s dealing with a LOT of emotions right now

And then second, when he decided to express his feelings for you, you don’t really understand?

Which is super confusing, I mean, it always works in his soap operas

Instead though, you are in love with a fictional character.

Excuse me what?

Jumin really doesn’t understand

MC he’s fake pls love me

Honestly I think this would lead to a really funny montage of Jumin buying you super expensive things, and making the biggest romantic gestures, while you just remain clueless as to what’s going on lol

He gets a whole orchestra to play your favorite song, he always gets you your favorite flowers or chocolates, he’s always doing the most romantic things he can find on the internet! (Yes he had to look up how to flirt lol)

One day, you’re both talking on the phone, and it’s late at night. The moon and stars are getting the both of you super sentimental, and at one point while Jumin is looking out into the balcony, he smiles and then whispers your name.

You immediatly stop talking and blush like crazy. Then, before you could say anything else, he starts speaking again.

“Y/N. There’s something really important I have to tell you. In all my life...no one has ever gotten to make me...make me feel so much. I’ve always been told to bury my emotions, to never show them. Then you came along and I found that I could never stop myself from...from feeling...I’ve never felt like this before, the feeling of loving someone, of cherishing someone. They weren’t feelings I hadn’t known until I met you. You have changed my life. And I mean it, Y/N. I have become more open, it’s as if my heart was a frozen lake and then you came and melted me away and well, what I’m trying to say is that I love you.”

“Jumin that was the best confession ever, I- I love you too!”

Afterwards Jumin is fine with you going crazy for a fictional character, as long as he always ends up getting tons of hugs and kisses too.

Jumin was never really jealous, except the times when he left for business trips, because he knew that some games had these audios to help you sleep (you told him a while ago) and that was the only thing that made him a bit worried.

One time when he came home early, you jumped up from your bed where you were playing and ran up to hug Jumin. Your phone screen was still on and he could see the character smiling seductively at you. He may or may not have stuck his tongue out at it for a split second (he had all the right to though, I mean why would you want a fictional character when you have JUMIN ajfbdbsb)

Saeyoung:

So, after the whole ME ordeal was over, you two still hadn’t really tied the knot. You weren’t even together.

Saeyoung had realized that he liked you, more than he’s ever liked a person before, and he felt that it was alright now...after all, there was no more agency, or weird cults or whatever.

He thought it would be fine.

Oh how wrong he was

Saeyoung does have his own way of showing his affections, by bulding apps or robots, anything of the sort! Yet you still didn’t seem to understand that he liked you

Instead you were head over heels for this one guy in a stupid game.

Listen, Saeyoung was pretty jealous alright? He kept trying to flirt but you didn’t understand, and you actually seemed to be in love with a fictional character! What was he supposed to do now?

Well eventually he figured out how to make his feelings clear for you.

One night, you opened up your game after a long day. You loaded your file and hummed the games background music as you progressed through the story, and giggled whenever your favorite character would appear.

Then, when your favorite cutscene was about to happen, your computer froze.

You frowned and gently tapped the screen, seeing if that would make it work. But no.

You panicked and clicked your screen, trying to restart your computer, to close the application, just to figure out what was wrong.

Then suddenly some text appeared, as if from the game, and a sprite you had never seen before (but was familiar) appeared on the screen.

Saeyoung?

You raised an eyebrow and went out into the living room, looking at the camera and trying to ask Seven what was going on, but he didn’t seem to reply.

You then grabbed your computer and kept clicking through the game.

“Y/N” it said. “It’s me! God7! Aren’t you feeling so grateful right now? Knowing that the one and only Savior of Justice is right here, inside your computer! Not everyone gets this sort of treatment you know? Anyway, the thing is, I hope you’re not mad that I hacked into your game. Oh, don’t worry though! I will fix it as soon as we’re done talking...well...the thing is....Y/N. I know it’s really weird that I’m talking to you through this, but I feel like it’s the only way I can get you to understand how you make me feel. Thanks to you I got my brother back, and the RFA is closer than ever. I don’t even have an agency to work for anymore. You’ve done so much for all of us. And the thing is, during that process I...I fell in love with you. I love your smile, your voice, your eyes, your face, everything. Yet you only seem to have eyes for that game character, hmph! How dare he try to get between my beautiful 606 and me!? To be honest...I don’t know if you like me back. For all I know you’re ready to marry that one guy, but I just have to be honest now, and tell you how I feel. That’s all. You don’t have to reply yet though! I’m sorry I can’t be like those guys in your games, but I’ll show you that 707 can be way better than them! Anyway, I think I’ve kept you for too long. I’ll go now...bye!”

A woosh sound effect was heard, and then your computer turned back to normal, your character smiling up at you, the romantic music playing on the background. But you just sat there, blushing.

Seven....liked you?!

Holy shit! And you didn’t even realize!

You quickly turned off your computer and ran over to the living room, getting in clear view of the camera. You waved your arms frantically and smiled at the lens as you said “I love you Saeyoung!”

Did he hear? You didn’t really know. Well not until you heard a knock on your door and when you opened, Saeyoung quickly ran over and hugged you.

He lets you still be crazy for fictional characters, the only rule is that you can’t buy any body pillows of them.

“Why buy them when you have me! Y/N, you know I’m the best quality for a body pillow” he winked at you, and you rolled your eyes.

In conclusion, the two of you always laugh remembering how you never got that he was flirting, and how in love you appeared to be with the fictional character.

#mystic messenger #jumin han #saeyoung choi #saeran choi #mysme #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jihyun mysme #choi bois #mysme zen

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greylunar · 4 years

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hi! I took your quiz and the result was wrong but I loved it and your writing, where can I find more of that?

HahahA I respect this ask IMMENSELY thank you very much for it, and for loving the quiz despite it’s flaws. Prose wise, I’ve got a frighteningly long star trek fanfic you can read, and other than that I think I’m just responding to everyone who asks me about poetry/writing with a poem under the keep reading, and you can find my writing and those posts under the “tal writes” tags because i literally haven’t put my writing on here before so! Hope that’s okay! if yall have a better idea let me know haha

Warnings on this poem: its about the Trans Experience TM and discusses themes of vaguely internalized homophobia and transphobia as well as dysphoria, but ends positively and is more about learning how to own your identity and your gender? Yes haha i think that about covers it

This Poem Is a Real Male Bathroom, For Real Men™️ Only

I know something is wrong when he turns around at the urinal.

Despite being new to this whole bathroom thing, I am certain that there is a rule about this specifically.

As he asks me what my name is, I wash my hands.

I almost say Miles, the name my mother says she would have given me if I was born a boy, but my brain tells me that this is Too Gay. My own name does not even cross my mind.

Miles is the name of my grandfather. He worked in the same steel mill for forty-six years. I do not believe he ever looked at a man for more than five seconds at a time. I know this, because he is the one who taught me to keep my head down at the urinal. To keep my head down at all times.

Still, I say Max. In my mouth, it sounds like a dogs name.

I stand there and try to remember the steps that go into washing your hands as he keeps talking. I am aware he is facing me completely now, I am aware of his frame in the background of the mirror I cannot look at, I am aware that there is one rule in male bathrooms, and so my brain keeps looping and repeating do not look up do not look up do not look up.

He asks me what my number is, and when I recount this to my mother a week later, I cannot find a way to describe how it feels like a threat. How it feels like wanting to count the tiles to the exit door but not being able to stop washing your hands because you simply can’t remember how it’s done anymore, what that last step is that lets your brain know the process is over. I try and work through it again. I restart, get more soap.

He keeps saying things. My brain flicks through quotes in my head like rapidly choosing what to wear into battle. I misremember the one I end up choosing, find myself unable to fix the clasps on a breastplate that I built for myself, it should have fit me. I feel like this strangely has to do more with what is inside my chest versus the flesh that lies on top of it, regardless, I play the quote again.

“The poet’s job, in the midst of the flood, is to remember the color of the water.”

And again.

The sink is just clear. I am trying to convince it to be blue, for a grocery list of reasons and the ghost of a voice saying “poetic cinema”, when he says something else, and I blink and it is Wednesday.

I joke to my friends that I am not sure if my superpower is time travel or teleportation. We decide that it is the latter because if I could time travel, I would just go forward til things were better. Instead, I just end up somewhere else days later, blinking back into my body, trying to remember how I got there. I am not wearing my jacket anymore. I still can’t find it now, and I only have a vague recollection of frantically looking for a sharpie to scribble out the rainbow flag on the outside, not because I am ashamed but because I have always needed a safety blanket, even now and it just doesn’t feel safe anymore.

My sister made it for my eighteenth birthday, not to celebrate my birth but my continued existence, she says it is a gift so that I can remember how brave I have been.

I am wearing it when I am too scared in an empty cafe to hold the boy I want to marry’s hand.

Six people write down brave as an adjective to describe me out of ten for a class project. I realize, after an hour of not understanding these results that everyone who has said this is LGBT. They do not think I am brave in my actions, they know I am brave for being alive.

I do not like that my sheer existence is heroic.

Later that night, or maybe a month before, I have been teleporting so much lately that I can’t remember time, I ask my partner if he thinks I am gay enough.

He asks me what I mean, and I do not know how to answer him,

I cannot tell if people see me as a boy or girl when they look at me anymore or if I just look small.

I tell him that it feels like I am just now realizing that I have missed my train and that I have been sitting at the station for eighteen years waiting for something that simply will not come,

When a girl tells me I am pretty I think of how I pictured myself looking in college.

I stand next to my little brother as we get out of the car and he is three heads taller than I will ever be,

I remember joking with him, when I did not know anything, that I would always make a better soldier than him.

I remember the first time I realized he would always be stronger than me when a news alert goes off on my phone saying I am too expensive to be in the military.

I tell my boyfriend that I have never seen myself as trans as I picture my father in Germany, my grandfather taking a picture of him in uniform as he helps pull a man over a wall my father made sure crumbled, I wonder if the picture took him more than five seconds to take, or if it’s okay to look at men through glass, through a viewfinder.

The only picture I have left of his is one of my mother holding me as a child, and there is much love in that single faded frame that even the photo paper feels soft, and still, today, I cannot help but wonder what he would think of me.

The water in the bathroom is clear as I wash my hands. My name is not Max. I know this because it took me four years to choose the perfect one. To make sure it fit right, like a safety jacket.

On a Thursday, my therapist asks me why I am scared, and suddenly I am in bed reading a text from a friend that asks the same thing, and maybe it actually is time travel.

“I do not know,” I say, both times, and they echo and I can’t make out which voice is mine, the high pitched one in my head or the one people hear when they meet me again for the first time in years.

I do not know, I say, because I have never been righteous I have never been angry. The group chat talks about what kind of historical gays they are. Elliot says he would have been an 80’s escort, in rich extravagant clothing, taking women to parties their husbands could not attend. Phoenix is a second brick at stonewall kind of gay, apparently. They ask me what I would be doing then. I say Berlin and Vietnam, respectively.

I have made it a goal, for the past two years, to tell someone on the internet every day that I love them. I did this after a person I barely knew died. His mother made a post about how we should not say that he “committed” anything, because that it makes it sound like a crime. I tell people I love them and sometimes it still feels like I am committing the act of love.

A boy once wrote to me saying he was happy I was finally writing happy poems. Even as I tell myself that life is circular, and sometimes backwards can still be forwards, I try to make this poem happy for him.

As I write this, I know I am traveling faster than the speed of light. That a few days from now I will blink and wake up and find this on my computer and wonder how it happened.

I will continue to taste the word brave on my tongue and try and use it to wash the sound of Max out of my mouth.

I will continue to try and name of the color of this flood, but it does not feel colorful, it does not feel rainbow. It still looks clear when I wash my hands.

I am itching more lately, and I try not to think about being allergic to my body.

The water is clear when it washes over skin that I cannot tell is mine.

The water is clear still.

I turn the faucet off. And I dry my hands. I have remembered these steps, in the end.

The water was clear, still.

And I am in love, still.

And I am love, still.

And I try to think of how all these things can exist at once.

And I land on the answer.

I am in multiple places at once.

I refuse not to call this a superpower.

I have decided to title this poem This Poem Is a Real Male Bathroom, For Real Men™️ Only.

And I want the guy whose penis I did not look at in that bathroom, to know,

That this poem is not for him.

Because I was the only real man in that room.

#tal asks #quiz mention #tal writes #okay to rb #your-url-is-problematic

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f-a-n-d-o-o-m · 4 years

Text

A new mask - part 2

I’m really proud of this chapter! It’s definitely better than the first, and kind of wish I was able to start it here, but story wise it didn’t work.

I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!

PART 1

READ ON AO3

Chat Noir’s new sidekick- or do we believe that he really has no idea who the new figure is?

Hawkmoth- the word scrawled inside the bank. Is this the new villain’s name?

PARIS IS UNDER ATTACK FROM A NEW EVIL!

Ladybug’s failure- or is she working with them?

IS THIS THE END OF LADYBUG?

Marinette threw her head on her desk. She couldn’t bring herself to read any of the articles, but also couldn’t bear to turn away.

Her parents assumed her negative mood was down to exam stress- speaking of which, having a test on Monday wasn’t helping her mood! The notebooks were scattered over her desk, and her highlighters were uncapped. Two of her last three black pens were basically dead, and the beautiful colour-coded sticky notes were no longer colour coded. Also, she wasn’t actually studying.

Peeling her face up from the desk, she restarted her ‘study !!! You can do it Marinette !!!’ playlist, which she made a mental note to change the name of, decided to change the name immediately, then started playing her newly titled ‘Study :,(‘ playlist, and returned to her art homework.

Halfway through deciding whether she should use her pink or yellow highlighter to highlight this one particular note, the back of her brain mumbling that it doesn’t matter, her computer notified her that the news had updated with the key words ‘hawkmoth’ in the article.

Immediately, Marinette opened the article. Her eyes widened, and she threw highlighters down.

“Honestly Hawkmoth?” Ladybug yelled. “You’ve literally just robbed a bank! What do you need more money for?” She tapped her fingers on the side of her leg. “You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t have time for this. I’m a busy lady, you know.”

Hawkmoth turned back to the restaurant. It was a really expensive one, the sort where Marinette doubted there was too much cash on the premises anyway.

“Ladybug, you’re on the wrong side here.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m not joining the dark side or whatever. Come on, I don’t have lon-”

Hawkmoth lifted his arm and something flew out of his suit with a bang, shattering the window. Ladybug’s mouth went very dry, very quickly.

“Keep talking, and I won’t miss.”

Ladybug’s heart rate rose. This wasn’t like the comic books. That was an actual bullet, he had an actual gun in his suit. With Chat they fought, but this wasn’t like that! She was a teenager, she wasn’t supposed to get into these kinds of situations! She was supposed to worry about school work, not getting shot!

Schoolwork! She had a test coming up! She didn’t have time for this! It was so inconvenient, and selfish!

She should just leave. Hawkmoth had his back to her, she could run back to her apartment, she was a teenager, nobody should expect her to get into a gun fight with this lunatic. They say don’t bring a sword to a gun fight, and there was a serious chance that trying to bring a freaking yoyo to one could cost her her life.

Silently, she turned to go.

“Is this everything?” Hawkmoth’s voice reached her ears.

“Y-Yes,” A man’s terrified voice reached her ears. She screwed her eyes shut, hating it.

“You’re lying.”

“No- no- no i’m n-not! Peop-ple p-pay on-n card-d-d,” The voice continued, and Ladybug started shaking.

“I said you’re lying! You must be!” Hawkmoth’s voice rose, and Ladybug risked it and glanced back to see him with his hand against a poor worker’s head. Remembering the gun hidden in his suit, Ladybug felt like she was going to vomit.

Before she could back down, or she began to quiver uncontrollably, she screamed “NO-”. She threw her yoyo at his arm, pulled it away from the worker and into her direction. Despite the mask, she could tell Hawkmoth’s eyes widened, then narrowed before she was diving away from bullets.

The villain snarled in anger, and stormed out of the restaurant. The same roar from last time started, and the suit began to lift off the ground.

Her heart beating in her ears, Ladybug ran forward. She threw her yoyo, wrapping it around his waist. She planted her feet onto the ground, but it did nothing as he suddenly took off into the sky, dragging the red bug behind her.

For the first second, Ladybug was silent. It was like the speed that she had been dragged off left her voice in the restaurant, trapped in that endless ‘no’.

Then her voice caught back up to her, so she did the logical thing and screamed.

Hawkmoth didn’t seem to notice her being dragged behind him, until he started to change direction, and the weight attached threw him off course. Then he saw the bug.

He reached for the yoyo string, the low sunlight glinting off something, and swiped his hand through it. The string snapped, and Ladybug started to fall.

Hawkmoth twisted back the way that he came, and flew off, not once looking back on the superhero.

Ladybug continued falling.

Her yoyo was snapped, there was nothing to do to catch herself. She turned around to glance at the ground. They had been flying really high, so they had a long way to go before she was at building level, but all the same she could recognise the high walls of the Agreste House. The rising ground made her feel sick, so she screwed her eyes shut and flipped back to the sky.

Adrien was going to find her splattered body. Would they even know it was her? They’d probably figure out it was Ladybug. Maybe when Marinette disappeared they’d connect the dots. She should have made a will or something. Her parents could get her designs, Alya her old suits, Adrien… What would Adrien get? Maybe some of the designs that she made that were inspired by him? That didn’t seem like enough. It was his house she would be splatted outside of, after all. What did she want to give Adrien? What would someone as kind, and sweet, and pretty as Adrien want?

Marinette felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, and she didn’t think it was from falling. Probably. She was pretty sure it came from the realisation that she wanted to give Adrien a kiss, and from the second realisation from that one- I have a crush on Adrien.

What a great time to come to that realisation!

Marinette felt something wrap around her, and screwed her eyes up tighter. This is it, this is the ground, it’s wrapping around me because I’m actually spread out across the concrete…

“Why hello there M’Ladybug. How kind of you to drop in.”

She would recognise that voice that sounded like a smirk anywhere, any circumstance. She was sure of it.

Chat Noir landed on top of a roof, far away from the Agreste house leaving Marinette relieved she wouldn’t have to look at Adrien any time soon.

Feeling awkward even though she didn’t have any reason to, Ladybug stepped out of his arms. “Thanks, Chat Noir.”

Chat Noir bowed. “Any time, My Ladybug.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

Chat Noir smirked. When was he not smirking?

Ladybug brushed down her suit, just needing a moment to think. “Why did you save me?”

Chat, for once, took a moment to think about his words. He grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to let you die.”

Ladybug glanced at him warily, then gave him a polite smile in return. “Well, thanks.”

She turned to go, then realised her yoyo was still… Well, no longer a yoyo.

“Mind helping me down from this roof?” She asked, turning back.

Chat blinked at her. He glanced at the string hanging from her finger. “O-Oh! Of course.” He walked towards her, then hesitated. “Actually, first-”

Ladybug tensed up. Chat bit his lip. “Can we talk? Quickly.”

Ladybug stared at his masked face, trying to pull apart the situation. “Sure… What about?”

Chat seemed to brighten up. “Well, this new Hawkmoth guy, right?”

Unsure how to reply to that, Ladybug just slowly repeated “Right.”

“What if we teamed up to beat him?”

Ladybug huffed a laugh. Chat didn’t. “Wait, you’re serious!” She stared at him. “Chat Noir, you’re a bad guy.”

“But so is Hawkmoth!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m willing to be a bad guy just to get rid of him!”

“You wouldn’t be becoming a bad guy! I’d be becoming a good guy!”

Ladybug stared at him, chuckling slightly at the ridiculousness of his words. “That’s not how it works.”

Chat Noir opened his mouth, and closed it. He looked at the ground, then an idea seemed to reach him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone.

“Your suit has pockets!” Ladybug sounded more excited than she should have at that. He blinked at her.

“Yours doesn’t?”

Ladybug made a face at him. “It’s skin tight, Chat, where would I put pockets?”

Chat rolled his eyes. He unlocked his phone. “I lied before.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

“About why I saved you. It wasn’t just that I couldn’t let you die.” He turned his phone towards the red and black hero. “This was why.”

Ladybug stared at the grainy, black and white image. Her hand covered her mouth when she realised what it was.

“Is that security footage from the restaurant?”

“Some news company got a hold of it. They were playing the whole event live on their website.” His finger pointed to a clearly spotted figure in the doorway. “This is you.”

Ladybug watched herself turn around, facing away from the restaurant, and freeze. She watched herself tremble, her fist clench. She looked so scared, so unlike a hero. Embarrassment and shame filled her. So many people will have seen this. Everyone would know how weak she was. Ladybug closed her eyes. “Okay, Chat. Thanks.” She bit out, and spun to go.

“No- Ladybug, wait!” Chat leaped forward. “Just watch!”

Ladybug opened her mouth, but he held the screen in front of her. She watched herself turn around, and pull Hawkmoth’s arm away from the worker. Chat paused the video, before she pulled it and before Hawkmoth began shooting at her. She looked at the mask, and despite the grainy footage she could see the war of determination and fear on her expression, through the eye holes and the tightness of the mouth.

“That’s why I decided to help you. You could have so easily swung away then. Nobody knows who Ladybug is, you could just throw away the mask and it would be over. You were so clearly scared, but you didn’t. You chose to stay, you chose to fight, you chose to save that guy, you chose to be a hero.

“It is like that. Now I want to make that choice! I just wanted to be free, you know. Yeah, I know I’ve been the ‘bad guy’ up to now, but I haven’t really done anything that bad! I’ve never actually stolen anything, or killed anyone.”

“Because I’ve stopped you.” Ladybug didn’t look up from the paused video.

“Yeah, but I haven’t really been trying to either. Sure, at first I kind of was, but I wasn’t really trying! I just wanted to have some fun. I wasn’t really thinking of stealing anything, just messing around, being myself.”

“So go out with your friends then!”

Chat went quiet. “I didn’t really have any friends then. I do now, and like I said, I’ve not really been trying now! I’ve been sitting outside a bank for five minutes! Once I hovered around the Eiffel Tower for half an hour before you turned up. I just wanted to do something, get away from my- some people.”

Finally Ladybug looked at him. “It’s ridiculous that your first thought when you were bored was to rob the Louvre.”

Chat laughed lightly, and Ladybug found herself chuckling too. “So what do you say?”

Ladybug stayed silent. Clearly excited by the lack of a ‘no’, Chat continued talking. “Come on, if we work together we can totally take down Hawkmoth! Besides, he has no care for when to attack. He might try it during the school day, or in a test-” He seemed to catch himself.

“School day?” Ladybug said cautiously. “How old are you, Chat?”

Chat Noir didn’t meet her eyes. “Fourteen…” He mumbled.

Ladybug couldn’t help the snort. Chat glared at her. “No, it’s not that- it’s- I’m fourteen too. It’s just funny that the reason that I could never use you as a personal excuse to skip maths class is because you were probably also in maths class.”

Chat joined her laughter then, and then they were both gasping for breath, smiles reaching their eyes.

“So?” Chat asked finally. “Can we be partners?”

Ladybug looked at him. “Okay.” She said, with a small smile on her lips.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #gun #falling #amarok here #A new Mask #!!!#Really proud of this part

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takemedancingmaine · 5 years

Text

Safety Net

“But I think what gets me the most is the way that she said it.”

“Said what?” I asked.

“This morning while I was making breakfast, Ashley was on her way out and she just said, ‘Next time don’t sleep with someone I told you I think is cute.’

“She told you she thinks he’s cute?” I asked Mehar, watching as she walked across campus and I ate my lunch at my desk. I was actually just about to get up and start making a cup of tea.

“Well, yeah,” Mehar shrugged. “But Ruby, you know Ashley. She thinks every boy is cute and she never makes a move. I mean, if I never slept with anyone she found attractive I would never sleep with anyone. Besides, he approached me. Not the other way around.”

“Is this your way of telling me that you like a boy?”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes as she waited at a crosswalk. “He’s no Niall, but he’s sweet and I wouldn’t mind sleeping with him again. Plus, he was telling me about tennis, trying to get me interested. I don’t think I’d hate it.”

“Tennis?” I asked, wondering if I’d missed something.

“Yeah,” she said. “He’s on the tennis team. He said he would have to get me out to a match, or we could just watch tennis on television and that way he could explain all of the rules to me.”

“And you’re considering watching sports,” I said incredulously. Who was my sister?

“I am.”

“So you do like him.”

I watched closely as she narrowed her eyes and then looked up as a car horn honked in the background on her end of the call.

“You like a boy,” I gasped. “Mehar! You like a boy!” I started bouncing up and down in the back corner of the kitchen while I waited for my water for my tea to boil. Louis glanced over at me and laughed quietly to himself when I shrugged and said, “My sister,” before I turned my attention back to Mehar. “My baby sister likes a boy! What's his name?”

Her face did that fluctuating thing it sometimes did. It was going back and forth between amusement, anger, frustration and, back to amusement. “Andy,” she said finally.

“Andy?” I asked with excitement colouring my tone. “Mehar, I need you to tell me everything. Please.”

My sister then spent the next hour detailing Andy in every possible way, including sexually--which I did not need to know, but she shared anyway. I was excited for her. Where I had been in relationships and had been in her shoes as well, Mehar had only ever been someone who used boys and then left them as soon as she was satisfied. She wasn’t scared of the emotional side, she just liked her lifestyle. In some way, I was kind of proud that she was doing what made her happy.

This boy, Andy, was tall with an athletic build, light wavy hair, and dimples. He seemed really cute, and from the sound of it, even though they started the relationship on a physical note, he likes her back. He offered to get her coffee this morning and even made sure she got home safely from his place, driving her back to her apartment with enough time for her to get to change and get to class.

She told me about how they’d texted all morning, too, which in itself was an anomaly after Mehar slept with someone. She usually cut all contact afterwards. This was all new territory for her.

Still, now that she was talking about Andy, telling me about his smile and the fact that she was willing to upset Ashley, her friend and someone she lives with, I felt like something shifted in my sister.

“I’m not all that worried that Ashley will be mad at me for sleeping with him. But Rubes, what happens if she finds out I’m going on a date with him?” She asked now.

“You’ve got a date scheduled?” I practically screeched. At this point, I had finished my lunch and was back at my desk, alternating between glancing at Mehar on the phone now that she was back at her apartment, and my computer screen.

“No, I’m saying if we go on a date,” she clarified. “What do I say then?” she asked.

Louis poked his head into my office and when he realised I was still on the phone he came around and stood beside me, so that he was in the frame, now.

“Hey, babe!” he smiled at my sister, who I swear swooned when she saw it. If she hadn’t just spent an hour telling me about a different boy, I swear.

“Hi Louis,” she blushed and then looked back at me. “Seriously, Ruby, what do I say?” she asked, almost desperate.

“About what?” Louis asked, already interested in what was happening.

“She might be going on a date with a boy that one of her roommates told her she thinks is cute,” I filled him in.

“Does she know him or does she just think he’s cute?” He asked, his contemplative face now situated firmly on his features. It was a testament to the kind of guy that Louis that he would willingly enter into this conversation. It might have something to do with him having five younger sisters, but it could also be that he’s just that good of a person.

“She just thinks she’s cute,” Mehar told him. “But she somehow found out I slept with him last night and already said a snide comment to me this morning.”

Louis shrugged. “So what?” He asked. “She doesn’t know him, and if you’ve got a real shot at something don’t let her stand in the way. She’s just imagining it, but you’re living it. Take that shot and run,” he insisted.

I nodded in approval. “Don’t let her dictate your happiness and what you want,” I echoed.

“So you’re saying if I want to, go on a date with him and see where it goes? Let Ashley be pissed off?” She asked as she looked between the two of us.

“Exactly,” Louis said.

“Yeah, and if what you’ve told me about Ashley is true, she’ll just move on to another cute boy in the near future anyway and forget all about Andy,” I added.

“That’s true,” she sighed. “I just don’t think I’ve ever wanted to see a boy at all after we’ve slept together, except to sleep together again, but this might be different and I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“And that’s fine, love,” Louis assured her. “We all have those moments in life where we have no idea what we’re doing. Look at Ruby, she came up here and didn’t know anyone, but she knew what she wanted and made it all happen. I didn’t know what I was doing when I decided to use my business degree and actually open a bakery. You can learn about things and see things from afar, but you can’t ever really know until you’re in the thick of it, doing it all yourself. But you’ve got people on your side, babe,” he assured her. “At the very least you’ve got me and your sister. That counts for something.”

“It does,” she said back. “It means a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Louis smiled. “Now I’m sorry, but your sister needs to help me with something because I’m a little slow on the uptake. Can she get back to you?” he asked.

“She can,” Mehar laughed. “Love you both.”

“Love you back!” Louis put his hand over his heart.

“Love you too, Meh,” I crooned and ended the call before swivelling in my seat and facing Louis head-on. “What can I assist you with, Tomlinson?” I asked.

“I just needed you to reset the computer system and start it up again, because I had my computer freeze on it again and I can’t reset it from my terminal, so I need you to,” he explained.

“Ah,” I nodded. “Let me just save this.” I saved the spreadsheet I was working in and then exited that and the computer program we used to track the business before I found the software to reset the whole backstage of the system.

“Is your computer off?” I asked him before clicking it.

“It is,” he nodded, “but it’s also installing updates…” He trailed off with a cringe. I laughed.

“Got it.” I clicked restart and the whole system began to shut down to repair itself and then restart in working order.

“So are you still on for game night at Weed’s Tavern?” I asked him while we waited.

“I am,” he nodded. “I’m rather excited. We’re going to play Sorry and I’m going to destroy your ass, Singh.”

“In your dreams, weirdo,” I shook my head. The computer was telling me that the system was back up now.

“Alright, go get yourself back to work,” I shoved him away. “You’ve got things to bake and salaries to pay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved me off before stepping out and heading back to his own office.

I think I was starting to scare Niall.

In the three weeks since my panic episode on my way to Niall's, I'd had more. They were smaller scale-episodes, to be sure, but I was still having them.

Sometimes they would hit me when I was at home and I couldn't remember if I locked my doors the first two times I had checked. Sometimes they would hit me when I was lying in bed at night terrified I'd have my dream again.

Other times I would just be doing something simple, like stirring fried rice in a wok and Niall would come up behind me to hold me close and I would jolt and pull away like I'd been electrocuted like he had electrocuted me.

It had gotten to the point where Niall wasn't sure what would set me off, but neither was I, so we would just tiptoe around each other. It was odd. Ever since we’d met neither of us ever felt the need to act wholly and completely ourselves, and yet here we were, shadows of who we typically were.

That is not to say that Niall wasn’t helpful, he was. Him knowing gave me some sense of relief, lessened the guilt that tore away at my, but the circumstances under which he found out had rocked me to my core. It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with what happened.

I could see that the burden of keeping this from our friends was weighing on him, too. He would drift off into his own thoughts and Liam would have to repeat himself two or three more times before he got Niall's attention back. Or he would make a face, just for a split second, whenever someone in the group suggested going out at night.

I was still having trouble believing I had told him. It felt like I had been shaken to my core like I was thrown off balance. I couldn’t believe I’d told him. I had no way of taking the story back, folding it neatly into the place I had been keeping it all this time. No matter what else happened, from here on out, I would remember Niall, because by telling him, he had become part of that story, of my story, too.

That weight was hanging over me. The thing about the truth, I was finding, was that even when you wanted to hide it away, it demanded to come out. Events had conspired to lead Niall to my truth. What worried me the most about this was that it meant somehow everyone else would be led to the truth.

That was another thing about the truth, the more people that knew it, the harder it was to hide it. It was just poised to fall out and be found out. Niall knowing was just the first step. It was causing me to constantly fret about what the next step was.

It didn't take Niall long to put together that Thursday night was self-defence class. If we ever got together on Thursday, it was always after seven-thirty, giving me enough time to get home and shower after class. It was the only day I'd put a time restriction on our going out or spending time together.

I was noticing how perceptive Niall was. It seemed he picked up on little things, tendencies of mine that had shifted since I’d been attacked. Whenever we left my house together he watched as I locked both front locks, only after checking at least the top back one. He noted that I never walked around with my hair up, only putting it up after I would get somewhere. He seemed to notice, for the first time, that I don't carry a purse--ever.

Just two days after my episode on that Thursday, he texted me during his lunch break and asked if he could come along with me to my class that night. I had dropped the pen I'd been using to the floor and had to take deep breaths to calm myself down before responding.

Which was how, six hours later, Brian met Niall and Niall was introduced to circuit training. I'd gotten many glances through the class, from both Brian and Niall, as a result of various tasks and workouts. It seemed both eyes were on me when Brian discussed how to use a structure (a wall, a fence, a porch railing, to your advantage when attacked. I steadfastly ignored both of their gazes.

I was genuinely impressed with how well Niall kept up with the class. The cardio wasn’t easy, even for someone like me who did workout every day. I knew Niall trained and played pickup soccer whenever he could, but I didn’t think he’d handle burpees and squat jumps like a pro.

After the session we were refilling our water bottles, sweat dripping from every orifice on our bodies and Niall grumbling about how sore he was going to be in the morning. He was red-faced and his hair was damp and hanging around his eyes. He looked cute as he struggled to catch his breath. Although, when I looked at his sweat-soaked shirt and caught a glimpse of his biceps, ‘cute’ was far from my mind as other thoughts flooded in.

I shook myself and forced myself to focus on his words.

“I'm just saying,” he said, “that I didn't realize it would be that hard of a workout. My knees are going to be rubbish for a week after this.”

I laughed as I stepped back from the fountain and he took my place. “I told you it would be a lot and that you didn't have to come.”

“I did have to come.” He levelled his gaze at me. I had to look away from the intensity of it, but I knew why he felt that way.

“I appreciate it.”

“I'll do anything to support you, Ruby,” he said as he pulled his water bottle back and taking a sip before he recapped it.

I blushed as we zipped up our coats and picked up our bags, slipping the straps over our shoulders.

“How was your first class?” Brian came up to us, walking out with us as we descended the steps to the main floor.

“Brutal, if I'm being honest.” Niall was wincing with each step but tried his best to hide it from both of us. It was sweet that he'd sacrificed his body in order to help me through whatever I was going through, but a part of me wanted to chastise him for being dumb enough to hurt himself.

Brian nodded. “Sorry,” he said before he held the door open for us, the frigid cold of January greeting us the moment the door opened.

“Does this mean you told someone?” Brian asked me quietly as I passed by him to get outside. Brian knew Niall was my boyfriend. I'd told him a while ago. When they met and I introduced Niall, Brian’s eyes lit up as he smiled and looked back and forth between us.

I nodded.

“You really did tell someone?” He asked his volume back to normal. He was a mixture of curious and impressed.

“It wasn't on purpose,” Niall said, answering for me. His words may have seemed bitter, but his tone was understanding. Brian picked up on it.

“Something happened? The nightmare?”

“I thought someone was following me and had a panic attack,” I said, my voice breaking on the last word. Niall placed his hand on my back. I could feel his comforting touch through my heavy jacket: it grounded me. I took a deep breath in and held it before slowly blowing it out.

“You okay? You need any extra sessions?” Brian asked.

“I don't know what I am,” I said truthfully. “I'll let you know about extra sessions though.” I shot him a grateful look. He nodded.

“How are you handling it?” Brian asked after a minute of us walking in silence. “You were pretty adamant that no one would find out.”

“I feel off,” I said. I could feel Niall's eyes on us, but he was silent, letting this conversation play out. It was a little unnerving, but also a comfort that he was still by my side. He didn't seem jealous that Brian knew quite a bit and he had been in the dark. He didn't seem to envy Brian's ability to help me feel physically more sound in my life. He was handling this very elegantly.

“That could be a good thing.”

“A good thing?”

Brian shrugged. “It may seem counterintuitive to you, but all I'm saying is now that someone else actually knows, you might finally be able to start moving past this, moving forward.”

“I was.” I sounded defensive, even to my own ears.

Brian didn't say anything for a minute, just watched me, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. “If you were, the wouldn't be affecting you as much. You wouldn't start having nightmares months after it happened.”

I frowned down at my feet but didn't respond.

“M’just saying,” He nudged his arm against mine. I just looked up at him. We were all quiet for a bit as well continued on.

“I'll see you next week unless you need me before then. It was nice meeting you, Niall,” he said eventually as he turned and started off down the street toward the train.

“You too, mate,” Niall agreed with a nod and a small wave.

“Thanks,” I called after his receding form.

Silence enveloped the two of us as we kept on toward my apartment. It was not uncomfortable, but it felt so loud that I kept running through conversation topics in my mind. I couldn't settle on anything though, so we kept on in silence.

“I like Brian,” Niall said eventually as we climbed my steps.

I punched in the code. “He's been pretty great,” I said.

“So the nightmare?” He asked, his voice low, even. “How bad is it if you told him?”

“It unnerved me enough that I called him after the first time I had it. And ever since then, if I have it again we do an extra session together. Mostly just on the punching bags and running through moves.” I turned the deadbolt and opened the door, Niall watching as I carefully locked the door behind us before heading up the stairs.

“How have you been hiding that from me?” He asked.

“The nightmare?” He nodded. We’d slept over with each other more than a handful of times. He wanted to know how he'd missed it. “I don't have it when I'm with you.”

“No?” He asked.

I shook my head, unlocking the top door and letting us in. We kicked off our shoes and dropped our bags to the floor.

“Why is that, d’ya think?” He asked, following me into the kitchen.

“Because ever since I've met you I've felt safe around you. Even when you were basically a stranger, something about you just makes me feel calm.”

Niall was quiet for a long time after I said this, just leaning back against the counter as I moved around and started making a quick pasta. I could feel his eyes on me.

“Do you want ice?” I asked once the water was heating on the cooktop. I was absolutely changing the subject. No regrets.

“Huh?”

“Your knee,” I clarified when he bunched up his face in confusion. It was cute.

“Oh. Yeah.” He nodded. “If you have any.”

I went to the freezer and pulled out a bag of peas. I grabbed a tea towel and wrapped it around the bag before handing it over to Niall. He smiled and went over to my table, where he sat and propped his leg up on the chair beside him and I watched as he gently placed the ice on his knee, heard him sigh as he did.

“Is it always that hard?”

“The class?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Brian’s pretty intense.”

“And all of the informational stuff?”

“Some weeks it’s more, some weeks it's less.” I shrugged. “Knowledge is confidence. It's also safety. The more we know how to protect ourselves the less it'll probably be necessary to protect ourselves. The thing is that we’ll probably never need these skills, but knowing them protects us, too.”

“You feel safer?”

“A little?” It came out like a question.

Niall took the peas off of his knee, stood up slowly with a little wince, and then came over to me. He put his hands on my arms and guided my gaze up to meet his.

“Well you are,” he says. “Safe.”

Looking into his eyes, seeing the sincerity on his face, I really felt like it was true. “I know.”

Three weeks later, even though I had felt it to be true at that time, that I knew I was safe, and even though I felt safe around Niall, the panic attacks still happened. I still felt unsafe even though I knew I was perfectly fine.

Now I was sat and watching him as he glanced up at me for the millionth time. He was trying to be sneaky, pretending he was looking at the clock behind me, or just looking around casually, as if just realising the sun had gone down outside the windows or noticing that there was a new song playing softly from the speaker he kept on his counter.

I think it bothered him that I was still afraid, because if he made me feel safe if my classes made me feel safe it didn't make sense why I was so on edge. As hard as he tried to understand it so that he could help me as best as he could, nothing seemed to fit together to make it make sense. I didn't even understand it. It didn't surprise that he couldn't figure it out either.

“Niall,” I said now as he glanced up again and pretended it was because he heard something outside.

He met my eyes and looked sheepish, his cheeks flushing when I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Sorry,” he apologised and looked down at the first in his lap. I had been leaning with my head on his shoulder until I moved and was lying down so that we were perpendicular to each other, my legs tangled with his which were perched on the coffee table.

“Don't apologise.” I nudged him with my foot.

“I know I just… I feel helpless.”

I propped myself up on my elbows so I could better see him. “Helpless?”

“Yeah.” He moves the guitar to the floor and pulled my legs up into his lap, his fingers dancing lightly across my calves. “I mean, I don't know what to do to help you. I think I do. And then I don't. It's literally eating me up that I can't help you when you need me to.”

“I don't need you to help me, Niall. I'm fine.”

"Fine,” he repeated and I wondered why it was I kept coming back to this, a word that you said when someone asked how you were but didn't really care to know the truth. His tone alone, low and clear, let me know just how much he didn't believe me.

He didn’t say anything else. He just studied my face and eventually nodded and then leaned over to pull me close to him, wrapping me up in his arms.

“So what are you reading?” he asked.

I had downloaded a book to my phone and was reading it as we lounged around. We had cooked together, made a tofu stir-fry, and then when it took us an hour to try and decide on a show we’d ended up reading and playing guitar and listening to 70s and 80s rock softly from the speaker that was still playing.

“It’s a non-fiction about the Cambodian genocide called First They Killed My Father.”

“Is it any good?” he asked.

“Its unbelievably good,” I said, nudging my legs against his, enjoying being snuggled against his side. “It’s world-altering knowing the things that humans have done to each other. I can’t imagine living in that kind of situation.”

“I’ll have to read it after you,” he said.

I nodded.

“It’s definitely worth the read. I’ve gotten more and more into non-fiction recently, too,” I told him. “Also,” I glanced up at the clock, “I’m definitely staying the night tonight. I’m way too tired to make it home at this point.”

Niall smiled warmly at me. He’d looked at the clock enough times throughout the evening that he knew it was approaching midnight. Plus, we’d discovered that we liked the intimacy of sleeping together. There was something calming about it.

“Okay.”

I yawned and snuggled further into Niall and further into the couch, my eyes more focused on the backs of their lids than the words on the screen in front of me.

“Long day today?” His smirk made me smile softly as I looked up at him. His hair had long since flopped over into his eyes. Earlier, it had been floofed up by his constantly running his hands through it all day, but as the evening progressed the floof deflated into a messy mop atop his head. It was endearing.

“Louis’ been in the Bucktown location for the past three days since the front of house manager has been out. She had her baby two weeks early, and everything is fine, but the temporary replacement can’t come in early because she’s got another gig and it’s become this whole big thing. He’ll be back next week, but it’s just been a lot for him, and for me.”

“Yeah, he mentioned he’s not been sleeping well.” Niall nodded.

“I can imagine. He’s even tried to get his sister Daisy to call in sick from work for a few days to help him out. He’s handled it though, found someone to take up a lower position for the time being while one of his cashiers fills in, in the interim.”

“He does know what he’s doing. I worry about him though.”

“He’s got the weekend off, but I have a feeling he’s going to try and work from home the whole time.”

Niall chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“But you don’t have to worry, you’ve got enough on your plate. You’ve got two days off as well.”

“I’m going to take full advantage of them.”

“Good,” Niall said.

We sat together in peace for a little longer, Niall’s gaze lifting from his guitar to me less frequently. Only slightly so, but it counted. Eventually, it got to a point where my eyes would not stay open no matter how hard I tried. The last thing I remembered was Niall carrying me to bed and him climbing in beside me.

“Ruby!”

It was the terror in his voice that sunk fear into every fibre of my being. It was the terror in his voice that pulled me out.

I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, but I felt myself shaking all over, I could feel the wetness from my tears on my face and knew that my throat was raw because I’d been in the dream, and had been screaming. I sat up as I brought myself back to reality and focused on Niall’s eyes as he watched me, a sadness sinking into him that I couldn’t even begin to describe. He looked like he was in physical pain as his own breathing, much like mine, was forcefully returned to a semi-normal pattern.

I wiped my tears away and hiccuped as I turned to face him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He pulled my hands away from my face gently and kissed my cheeks, my forehead, my chin, my nose, and eventually--delicately--my lips for the briefest of moments. His eyes met mine in the darkness of the room, of his room, and I saw the helplessness that took up within them in the last few minutes.

“Do not apologise to me, love,” he whispered back. “Please don’t ever apologise.”

He pulled me close and held me as my body relaxed, the adrenaline leaving my system and leaving me feeling weak and tired as I finally stopped shaking. I sagged against him and took deep breaths, filling my senses with him, using him to ground myself and reassure myself that I’d woken up, that I was safe, that I was no longer in danger, that I hadn’t been in danger for months.

“Is it always like that?” he asked after a while.

I nodded against his chest. “Yes.”

His breath left him in a shaky whoosh, but he held me steady.

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this love,” he said. “I wish I could fix it.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not okay,” his voice was soft, but his tone was firm. “You waking up crying is not okay.”

“I know,” I conceded his point. “I know, but… but I meant that it’s okay that you don’t know how to fix it.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad…” he trailed off. “I had no idea.”

This was the first time I’d ever had the dream while staying with Niall. Somehow, just his presence wasn’t enough anymore. Somehow, whatever adverse effect he’d had on the dream before was nullified now. Whatever the reason, there was no longer a safe space for me, awake or asleep.

“What happens if you fall asleep again?” he asked, worry clear in his tone.

“It only comes once a night,” I reassured him. “I’m in the clear now.”

“You’re sure,” he asked, pulling back to meet my eyes again.

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

After a while, we had calmed enough to lie back down and attempt to find sleep, but I couldn’t. I ended up just pretending to sleep until morning. All I could think about was that the last safe space I’d had was stripped from me and that I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep soundly again.

#it has been WAY WAY too long #and I'm so sorry about that #I'm honestly not sure when you'll get another chapter #but here we are anyway #please leave me some feedback if you liked/didn't like it #and thank you for sticking with me if you're still out there reading this #fic: only ticket home #fic: OTH #OTH17 #1dff

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pixelpolaroid · 5 years

Text

Patience is Key- Chapter 1

Black Out

The way that the harsh plastic pressed against his underarm wasn’t the most comfortable position to be in, but he was the only person that had a moment to look over the generator. All the others were working with their patients. After finding the fuse box, the younger lad moved the awkwardly shaped flashlight from his arm to now be pressed between his chin and chest. It shone down on the huge dust covered manual, the shape of which seemed like it hadn’t been touched in years. Usually during a power outage, the generator would quickly jump to action a few moments later. But ten minutes went by with no power and people were starting to panic, and that’s not something you want at Venefic’s Hospital.

He’d been quickly flipping through the index, looking between the diagrams in the book and the circuit board in front of him, but in such an already stressed out head space, he found it even harder to find exactly what the problem was. The buzzing on his belt nearly caused both the book and flashlight to fall from his grip. He sighed out heavily. God he hated those stupid walkers they were required to have at all times. Especially since one of their patients had a habit of stealing the batteries from the back. “Chase you there yet?” He heard a familiar feminine voice call from the other end.

He closed the book and put the walker to his ear while holding down the talk button. “I’m in the basement, what do you want?” He knew that she was going to scold him again for taking too long, not like he needed the extra anxiety. Chase probably would’ve worked better just knowing the stupid walkie talkie was off, but then he’d definitely be written up for that.

“Well are you fixing the breaker yet? We’ve got a lot on our hands up here,” He could hear the slight panic in her voice, but it was heavily covered with a forced composure.

“I’m doing my best!” He snapped back. “Cassandra I could do with a bit less backseat working here. Why don’t you just deal with the patients and let me do what I need. Maybe then all our jobs would be easier!” He was going to regret being snappy with her, he knew it, but a large part of him didn’t care.

From her response, it sounded like she didn’t have the time to deal with Chase’s continued attitude. “You’re brother is having to deal with half of his patients all at once. Either fix the power now, or come up stairs and help us!” He could sense the desperation in her voice. She needed a break.

It was late when the power went out. No one really knew why. The building was fairly new and the lighting system never had problems before. There wasn’t a storm and just from looking outside, they could see other buildings in the city still had their lights out. It seemed completely out of the ordinary, but accidents happen even at well built places. That’s why Chase was here. He wasn’t exactly qualified to be a handyman, but he knew enough to be helpful and it was a fairly easy job.

Chase let out a heavy sigh, looking between the large book that felt like it was in a different language, and the fuse box. “Give me another five and if I don’t have this figured out, I’ll come up and help you guys,” He promised in a defeated voice.

Chase was already putting the walker back on his belt when Cassandra responded. “Please hurry up, people are going to start getting cold.”

Running has hands over his face and through his hair, Chase went back to flipping through the book he hardly understood. Chase may not have been an electrical engineer, but he was pretty sure he should be able to figure out a blown fuse or something. The weird thing was that everything looked fine. He reached up and switched the main switch on then off again… nothing happened. He did that with multiple switches in the box and hoped that maybe by some miracle all the lights would come back on but of course they didn’t.

Once the five minutes went by, Chase gave up, and did as he promised. Heading up the stairs he could hear a commotion going on, not to his surprise. He came out through the large steel door that only him and a few other doctors had keys to and heard the wave of scared patients crying and few seemed to be banging on their doors, and he was pretty sure someone was howling like a wolf. He shone his flashlight down at the ground as he started looking for his brother. Other doctors were hurrying down the halls, panic going through them as well. He passed one doctor that had a patient walking with her, a blanket wrapped over his shoulders. He kept his eyes down, but Chase could see his whole body shaking, as he passed, the patient looked up at the lad, his eyes were dilated looking and Chase quickly pulled his gaze away. Nothing like working at a mental hospital.

It took him about 10 more minutes to make it to the front desk area. There weren’t a lot of doctors there right now and he’d been manning the front desk when this chaos started. While the madness was still pretty loud where he was, Chase stood as close to the door as he could and started pulling out his phone, looking up electricians in town. After about five minutes of searching, he wasn’t surprised to see that all of them were closed, it was 3 am in the middle of the week after all. He let out a few swears and switched over to his messages, quickly sending one off to his brother.

“Couldn’t get the lights on. Where are you? Do you need a hand?”

While he waited for a response, Chase decided to start looking for Cassandra. Although right now that was like looking for a specific chicken on a chicken farm, except three quarters of the chickens are mentally unstable, and the rest are running around trying to calm the other chickens. Even Chase, who was in no way as certified as his brother for this situation, was starting to feel like one of those chickens. He saw one patient lying on the ground under a table while their doctor talked to another patient. Part of him wanted to try and help the person, but he was in no way qualified to do such a thing.

When he started working at Venefic, the number one thing he was told was to not try and assist a patient without a doctor’s consent. He was only meant to make sure the building was working on a technical stance. The biggest issue in his typical days was helping the receptionist restart her computer and keep her occupied while it installed updates. Right now though, he felt way out of his league, but still wanted to help. He wanted to find his brother, he was the one that got him the job here in the first place, so chase constantly felt like he owned him one.

Just as he was thinking about that, Chase felt his phone buzz, much less aggressive than the stupid walkers. Looking down, as expected it was a text from his brother. “Second floor, wing B, possible 10-10.”

Wonderful. That was probably the last thing Chase wanted to see in his messages. A 10-10 meant there was a fight, or one of the patients was getting violent. Now, Chase was a pretty strong dude, so without stopping to respond, he hurried to the second floor, knowing that his brother was much much weaker and would need the help. He could worry about calling an electrician later, for now they needed to handle the issue now.

Chase ran past a few more doctors with blankets and new gowns for their patients. He barely even registered the patient standing alone in the hall until he’d accidentally bumped into his shoulder. “Sorry mate,” He said instinctively. He paused as he looked back. He recognized this patient, he was one of his brothers. Now that Chase was looking at him, he could tell what the patient was doing. His lips were moving, but barely even a whisper came out, Chase couldn’t catch any of it. This was the one that would talk to voices in his head, chase couldn’t remember what his illness was called, but it had a really long name, he remembered.

Though as Chase was about to continue searching for his brother, the man before him stopped muttering and looked at Chase dead in the eyes. He felt himself freeze where he was standing as the patient looked at him with a curious expression. “Chase?” He muttered, that sent a chill down his spine. How did he know my name? Chase wondered. Any response was dried in his mouth. “She doesn’t like you,”

Chase narrowed his eyes at him. “What?” He knew he should just ignore the guy and continue on, but he was curious. “Who doesn’t like me?”

“She doesn’t like that you’re here,” The patient looked off, towards seemingly nothing. “No don’t lie,” He muttered, his voice getting low again and he dropped his head again and kept muttering.

Chase felt himself backing away slowly, then quickly. He left the muttering man alone now and jogged past the rest of the wave of people to find his brother, but his words stuck in his mind. “She doesn’t like that you’re here,” Who was he talking about?

#patience is key #pixel writes #chase brody #septic au

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kimjongdaely · 7 years

Text

The Labyrinth [Bonus]

All members; EXO

Genre: Mystery, horror, choose your own adventure

Warnings: Violence, blood, language, character death

Summary: You are now on The Labyrinth. Are you ready to play?

Prologue (1) (2)│Overview│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4 │Chapter 5│Chapter 6│Epilogue│Bonus

One year ago...

He types away quickly on his keyboard, codes flashing across his computer screen as he finishes the final touches of the game.

Learning coding in private really paid off. This game is just what he needs—a way to escape. A way to cope with the pressures from his life.

He finally finishes the code and he breathes out a sigh of relief, cracking his sore knuckles and leaning back in his chair to admire his work.

He loads up the game, pressing start.

The Labyrinth became a viral game in Korea within days of its release. No one knew what it was—it was unheard of until it suddenly popped up on search engines and game websites.

People were curious, of course. What could this game possibly be about?

So they downloaded the mysterious game, excited to play.

You, of course, was no exception.

The Labyrinth is an interactive game. Earphones are recommended to be fully immersed in the game, and players could chat with each other throughout the game.

It seemed like the typical horror/mystery game in the beginning, with the standard menu screen and overly dramatic spooky music.

But no.

Everyone underestimated it.

Once you play, you can’t stop. It’s designed like that. So terrifying yet incredibly addicting, a mixture of horror and curiosity as you play, almost as if you were in a trance.

The game objective is simple.

To get out.

The game seemed boring at first, when you first loaded it. You typed in your username and the graphics of a standard labyrinth popped up. You were confused at how to play at first, the controls were slightly confusing. The arrow buttons were used to move—easy. But then there were a bunch of different commands such as shoot, fight, defend, etc.

It overall seemed weird, but you shrugged it off, thinking you would understand as you play.

The game seemed simple enough.

That’s when you get your first message from another player.

This game has a bug.

You click on the little pop-up message in the corner of your screen, opening up the chat box and you type back: Really? What bug?

My avatar won’t move. My game is just frozen and the only thing I can do is chat. wtf

You quickly type back: maybe try restarting.

I tried. It won’t restart

That’s odd...You think to yourself as you quickly try to restart the game too. Just as the other player says, you can’t. You click on the exit button on the menu several times, but there’s no response.

You decide to just power-off your computer, so you hold down the power-off button. Nothing.

“The hell?” You mumble as you try again, thinking you didn’t hold it down long enough. Still nothing.

You quickly type back to the other player: my computer won’t even shut down. Maybe we should contact the GM.

That’s when another message pops up, this time from another player. The player’s username is GM.

“Oh,” You say to yourself, letting out a breath of relief. “I guess they realized there’s a bug too.“

You quickly open the message the GM sent you, but your heart drops to your stomach and your blood runs cold when you see it.

This game cannot be closed until you’ve either won or lost. Game objective: get out.

You re-read the message a few times, feeling your body grow cold as dread fills your body.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard as you reply to the GM: you must be kidding me! I don’t have time to be on my computer 24/7

Not a second later another message pops up.

Then you better make sure your avatar doesn’t die while you’re out. Good luck :)

You stare at the message in disbelief, going back to the previous player you were talking to. Did you get a message from the GM?

The other player replies instantly.

Yes.

The GM said we can’t exit the game until we win or lose.

You feel slightly relieved to know you aren’t the only one who received such a message. What do we do now then?

Idk...

The other player answers honestly.

Maybe I should just die so I can end the game quickly.

You contemplate that decision for a moment, thinking that it would be a good strategy to end the game. There’s a green number on the top of the screen that tells you how many players are currently online, and it suddenly blinks red before another message from the GM pops up.

One player has died.

The large number blinks red several times, the same message popping up from the GM for over twenty people. Others must have used the same strategy by dying so they could end the game.

Another message suddenly pops up and you click it open, this time from a stranger.

DOn’T DiE

You furrow your brows at this message, checking the username of the player, but the person’s username is crossed out.

Another message comes from the stranger.

WHAteVER HapPEnS

DoN’T DIe

This user is no longer in the game.

Your heart pounds loudly as you quickly go back to the previous player, typing frantically. Hey, are you still there?

The player replies.

Yeah

Why?

You type: I just got a really strange message. Someone told me not to die no matter what and then the player got removed from the game. I don’t think dying is the best strategy.

Wtf

This is crazy

You breathe out, answering: yeah, ik. Btw, what’s your name?

Kam

Let’s be friends so we can stick together

You agree, and a friend request from Kam pops up immediately afterward, which you click accept.

You start to navigate the labyrinth, trying to find the exit. You see several avatars of other players around you, each of them also trying to find the exit.

The graphics are dark and glum, each turn seeming the same as the last. You bump into a few other players, and each conversation is always crisp and short and filled with anxiety. Everyone is eager to get out.

Whenever you had to go out to buy food or to work, you would always be incredibly anxious, but also glad at the same time. It reminds you that there’s life outside the game, that there are still people unaffected. You started taking shorter shifts from the place you worked at, to the point you only left for an hour or two everyday.

While you were gone, you made sure to keep your avatar hidden in the game, somewhere in the shrubs and bushes or others structures that existed in the game in attempt to keep yourself alive while you were away.

Having Kam around was also a plus, since she would help look after your avatar whenever you were away, and you would do the same for her.

You never really understood why the other player told you not to die. The game lasted for over a month now, and the player count has dropped drastically over that time.

Whenever a player dies, you could hear their screams. Gut-wrenchingly painful cries that made your blood freeze and your hair stand on end as you wait for it to end. It’s sharp, piercing and even when you take your earphones out, you could still hear it ringing in your head.

What is dying in a game like? Is it really this excruciating?

But then news articles started bombarding the country with news of players of The Labyrinth who were reported to have gone missing from families and friends, only to be found in their rooms, eyes glued to their computer screen and mind gone completely insane.

So far, the majority of those who lost their minds have been players who lost in the game.

You messaged Kam about it, and she says that she also saw articles like that. She warned you to be more cautious while playing, scared one of you might lose your minds too.

The game lasted six whole months before someone finally found the exit, immediately sending out a mass-text to all the surviving players.

There were more than 700,000 players in the beginning.

Now there are only 11.

And those remaining 11, including you, are the only ones who were able to win the game.

Kim Junmyeon breathes out a sigh of relief when he finally makes it to the exit, following directions from the sole player who was able to find it.

His sanity is hanging by a thread as it is, hearing thousands of players die, their excruciating cries for help but receiving none. Occasionally he bumps into a player at the verge of death, having fallen in one of the many fatal traps that the GM has littered around the labyrinth. The gore and blood that appears makes him sick, even though it’s just on a computer screen.

He thought it was all over; he had made it out. He could go back to his usual life.

But then a message pops up, and no matter how many times Junmyeon clicked on the exit button, he couldn’t leave. Groaning in frustration, he goes to his message box and clicks on his new message.

It’s from the GM.

Congratulations! You have been chosen to start the next round of The Labyrinth. Only one player may survive The Labyrinth. You must win, or die.

Whatever sanity he managed to preserve was broken with just three sentences that glared at him from his screen.

Panic fills his veins and lungs until he can’t breathe—suddenly he snaps, clutching his hair as he gnaws his teeth together. No, no, no, he thinks frantically, I can’t die. No. I can’t—What about my company? What about my life? Everything I’ll leave behind?

His breathing becomes ragged as he loses control over himself. He beat the game...only to find this? To find that the game didn’t end, and that a new one needs to be started?

All his regrets and dreams crash into him like violent waves—until it suddenly settles down into a calm pool of decision.

There’s only one answer.

He needs to win.

One and a half years later...

There’s a soft knock on the door that interrupts your chat with Kam, who you invited over that afternoon. She looks at you with raised brows, silently asking if you were expecting anyone. You shook your head ‘no,’ rising from your seat to open the door.

It was Jongdae, who gives you a soft smile and a wave when you open the door for him. “Jongdae? What brings you here?”

He looks sheepish, his hand coming to rub his neck as he struggles to look anywhere but at you. “I...um...I have something to tell you...”

He momentarily looks past you, meeting Kam’s eyes. He looks surprised for a moment, before a light smile graces his face. “You two are together. I guess that makes it easier for me.”

You look at him with furrowed brows, confused. “How about you come in.” You step aside to allow him into your house, and he takes a seat across from Kam at the dining table. You sit next to Kam, facing him.

He takes a deep breath before finally starting, “I have something to confess.”

There’s a pause as he tries to collect his thoughts, wondering how to say it. He finally blurts out, “I made The Labyrinth.”

“What?” You exclaim, eyes growing wide as you stare at Jongdae, who looks embarrassed to admit it.

“Yes.” He bobs his head slowly. “I studied computer coding in private, and created that game out of my own selfishness.” He takes a sharp breath as he starts explaining everything. “As the second son of the Kim family...I was never getting the company. I knew that. I always knew Minseok-hyung didn’t like me...I didn’t like myself either. I always felt so alone...No one really cared about me. I spent a lot of time alone in my room...and I came up with The Labyrinth. It started out with me being unhappy and angry with my life, creating a labyrinth that was hard to escape from just like my fate. It was my cry for help—but I never thought it would do so much harm. I never...I never wanted that.”

Jongdae let’s out a quiet sob, making your watch him with pity. “I’m so sorry.”

“Everything’s already in the past.” You say softly, trying to soothe him.

Jongdae nods, his expression determined. “Yes.” He rummages the backpack he brought with him, pulling out a laptop and setting it on the table. He types furiously for a moment, before turning it towards you and Kam. “As the survivors of The Labyrinth, I would like you two to finally destroy the game.”

The coding of the game covers the screen, and just one click of the delete button will clear everything away.

You glance at Kam who nods, a small smile gracing her face. You look back at Jongdae, who looks at you encouragingly. You take a deep breath, your hand hovering over the keyboard.

One click, and everything will really be over.

You press down on the delete button, watching the game code disappear. Jongdae smiles widely at you, closing the laptop. “I’ve already erased it from all websites and computers that had it installed. It won’t be seen ever again.”

You nod at this, feeling yourself relax after so long. Finally, the game that caused all this misfortune is gone. Jongdae looks relieved, glad to have this off his chest.

He bows at you and Kam, biding you goodbye. He leaves, and you close the door behind him, feeling your worries and fears leave with him.

The Labyrinth has officially ended.

Congrat@!&ns!

You have been chos#n to s!art the n$*xt r@und of The Lab!@#&*%.

@NLY O#!NE PL*!&YER C@#N $URV!V#

O#!NLY @NE

ON#%!#^&

This game has been deleted.

Epilogue│Overview

The Labyrinth Mini Masterlist

A/N: Finally the long awaited bonus chapter. Sorry it took so long! The ending is open-ended, so what happens next is up to your interpretation! I’d love to hear some of your thoughts and theories! There are still a few trivia questions unanswered, so maybe I’ll make another extra to answer them. Or maybe you guys can start making your own spinoffs of this haha 😂 Thanks for reading this guys! It was fun to write~

©kimjongdaely

Send me your answers!

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bbreactions · 8 years

Text

Big Bang Reactions to their sweet, shy S/O becomes agressive while playing a game

[GIFs not mine] [I'm sorry but I have no knowledge about games so I'm just gonna write about some that I've heard of]

++ If you could, can you please check out my BFF's fanfic about Matthew Espinosa I really like her writing and she just started so please give her some feedback about her writing^^ Thank you [https://www.wattpad.com/381335865-fall-for-an-angel-matthew-espinosa-chapter-1]

T.O.P He organized a dinner with other members at your home because you are living together and he also bought some new games for Nintendo control. You played games sometimes, but you were not a skilled player. After the dinner, he dared you to play a battle game with him. He didn't play games a lot but when he did he was very competitive. When it came to winning you are very aggressive the whole opposite of your personality. The game started and you couldn't help yourself but start screaming and cussing. He was very surprised how you reacted. He stared at you screaming for a while and then smiled and played on. He was happy to know you have the other side- not shy side of you. After he won the match you cursed even more and hit his shoulders. "WAEE?! WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME WIN?!!" "*Smiles* I'm just better" /you walk away and he laughs more but comes after you

G-Dragon He never had time to play games, but you played games with your friends at your house often. He finally had a free weekend and you decided to challenge him to play a game with you. He accepted your challenge. Your friends always told you how loud and aggressive you are while you're playing games but you forgot about that and played the game. He didn't give a lot effort into playing but you did and when he was about to win the game you started screaming and said some curses. He didn't really expect this side of you but he thought it was cute how angry you were about losing a game. After that game, he just wanted to play more games with you until he lost and save you screaming and jumping because of happiness. He loved letting you win and then watching you jump on the couch and singing Fantastic Baby. *you turn on Fantastic Baby and start dancing on the couch* "HAHAHAHAHAH....STAAAWP...*dies from laughing how cute you are*"

Taeyang He loved playing games but he wasn't the best at it and you were just all about winning. Your friends dared you to play Just Dance with him and you knew there is 1% chance of winning towards him. But you decided to do it. You danced to Mr Mr by Girls Generation and you killed it. You danced as you saw but he was getting all the moves right but you weren't you couldn't handle to see him winning so you started screaming at him why is he so good. You gave up and cursed at him. He sat next to you and listened to all your curses and then laughed because he never saw this side of you. He just kept laughing, making you jump on his back which made him laugh even more and you ended up hitting him but he just didn't stop laughing. He was amazed how angry you can get by losing a game. "YA! STOP LAUGHING! WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING YOU STUPID! STOP IT YOU ..." *literally dies from laughing and can't say anything bc he is laughing so hard*

Daesung You were bored and decided to play games on your TV. You had a karaoke game and microphones so you decided to sing. You were gonna lose towards him and you knew it. He brought the microphones and gave you the pink one which he ordered only for you. You chose the song Bolbbalgan4 Grumpy and he chose Goblin OST 10 by Urban Zakapa You scored 1500 points but then he started to sing and after a minute of singing he hit 1600. You had to do something so you jumped on his back and screamed in his microphone. He got really scared when you suddenly jumped on him but then he realized what you wanted to achieve and he let you. He got you off his back and pushed you to the wall. His face close to you and one hand on the wall. You felt like you were in drama and he loved how you looked scared but happy at him. "*you screaming* BLAHHHH BLAHHH LAA LAAA..." "*realizes what you are doing* kekekekekkekekekek..."

Seungri He liked playing games on the computer so once he wanted you to pass a mission for him at GTA San Andreas. You decided to play it because you heard it is a good game. You sat in his lap and started playing. You had to restart the mission a couple times to realize what you actually had to do. He felt provoked by the fact you sat in his lap but when you failed the mission in 10 seconds it was just amusing. You tried not to get angry at him and restarted the mission a couple times before you started yelling at the computer. He didn't stop laughing nor was he surprised, he just laughed even louder making you hit him in the shoulder quite strongly. Before that he thought it was cute but when you hit him with all of his anger he wanted to get revenge so he tickled you until you were barely breathing. "You mot* er fu* ker! THAT'S NOT FAIR. I WAS CLEARLY SHOOTING AT HIM FROM BEHIND THE CAR OMG" "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHH I guess you won't make it Y/N. HAHAHAHHA"

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averagequeerstuff-blog · 7 years

Text

Christmas Eve

12/24/2017

10:25

The universe does not want me to make this post tonight. This is my third fucking time restarting my writing. The first time my browser decided to randomly refresh and I lost a nice long entry I was just about to post. I learned the lesson that I should probably type my entries in Word before pasting them into a Tumblr text-post. The second time I unplugged my laptop on accident when I got up to get Meatball off of the T.V. stand. She was knocking shit off, like cats do. You can stare at them and say “No!” while they make direct eye-contact with you as they swipe shit off and onto the floor. Pesky little shit. While I was getting up, I unplugged my laptop by accident which needs to be plugged in to stay on. Needless to say, Microsoft Word proved to be incredibly useless and it didn’t save my progress. So now I’m moving onto Google Docs. This has been a not-so-relaxing night of failure and lessons learned. I’ve also been reminded I need a new computer really fucking badly. It doesn’t stay turned on unless its plugged in. The charging cable easily falls out. Letters are skipped while typing. I thought writing was going to help me relax, but really it's just made me realize how much I hate technology. I spent almost two thousand dollars on this laptop, it’s not even 2 years old, I have taken pretty damn good care of it, and here we are. Sigh. Without further adieu, I start this entry for a THIRD time, nearly an hour later from when I first started at 9:30 pm. Hopefully it’s as detailed and good as the first two times, but I’m giving myself some slack. Feet don’t fail me now.

It’s Christmas eve, as you can probably tell by the date on the top of this post. I’ve been listening to Dolly Parton’s Hard Candy Christmas on repeat for almost an hour. It’s starting to get just a LITTLE old at this point, but Dolly Parton is a queen and I always have time for her. I don’t really like Christmas and my dad doesn’t really celebrate it either, so whatever. I’m sitting alone in the room I’m staying in typing and scrolling aimlessly through Scruff and Grindr. Probably not the best idea to be on these apps. I’m just horny, sad, and in a small very sparsely populated state. Probably the worst combination in the history of all combinations, ever. Once again, the universe is out to make me miserable.

Can you tell how dramatic I am yet? It’s pretty fucking incredible.

Yesterday I went to Riverton for two reasons: the first reason, to visit my grandma Peggy. The second, to meet up with two friends, Robert and Shayna, at a 2-spirit meeting on the reservation in Fort Washakie. It was great to see my grandma. She looks a lot older than I remember her looking, and it made me a little bit sad. I really need to get better about staying in touch with my family members. I got busy in college and neglected a lot of relationships. You live and you learn, I guess. I’m going to start committing myself to calling the family members I love. I need to hold myself more accountable for this. Her dog Cesar recently passed away from problems with diabetes. He was the same breed as my dog, Cleo (Get it, Cleo and Cesar, cute right?) who also currently lives with my grandma. I sent Cleo there when I left to college because I figured my grandma could take better care of her than my dad could. My dad doesn’t hate animals, but dogs in particular take a lot of love and affection to be happy and healthy. My dad is not the most affectionate person on earth. Although, he seems to really care about the pets that live in his house now. I think he regrets a lot of things in his life, how he used to not care about animals being one of them. My dad and Cynde have 3 cats... Bubbles (my good boy who I grew up with. He is getting old now) Miley, and Maximus. Miley and Maximus are scared of everything. They are also aggressive self-petters... Meaning, if your hand or appendage is dangling from an arm rest, they will come up and aggresively rub their faces on it and “pet” themselves. Miley gets really into it. Maximus is more cautious than she is. My grandma is a total animal lover, and has a big yard and garden for Cleo to run around in. Cleo was happy to see me, and she definitely remembered who I was. My grandma also has a lot of cats and another dog named Shorty. They are all fucking adorable. My favorite cat of my grandma’s is one named Gravy. He is 2 years old. He’s a soft and sleepy boy. He’s very cuddly, too. His mouth falls open when he’s really relaxed and sleeping. I took a picture:

My grandma seems happy and healthy. She made us a big dinner last night… Turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, bread, and pie. It was tasty and my dad and I brought a lot of leftovers back to Greybull.

A funny story that involves both my grandma, AND the pie: my grandma is sort of a conspiracy theorist. She would never call herself that, however. One of the first things she did when I got to Riverton was hand me a packet telling me how I can spiritually awaken myself during the holiday season and how now is the best time to do so... Anyways- back to the pie. She recently purchased this small plastic tube, I’m assuming from the internet… I tried not to ask a lot of questions because I didn’t want the conversation to go on for hours. My grandma explained to me and my dad after pouring us two glasses of water that this water in particular was better for you than regular water because it had been run through this “device” (the tube). Apparently it helps purify the water and add oxygen to it. Cool I thought, all fine and dandy. But then she started talking about using the tube to restructure unhealthy foods by blowing into one end and circulating the air you’re blowing out of it around the food on the plate. She said it can help restructure the molecules within the pie to make it a little healthier and draw out the toxins in your body and the heavy metals in your brain from bad food and vaccines (You can’t make this stuff up). My dad and I just humored her and nodded our heads, trying to make the conversation end. I love my grandma, but I worry about her being on the internet sometimes.

The drive to Riverton yesterday morning was pretty rough. We had gotten up at 7 am to drive about 2 hours there and the weather was less than ideal. Thankfully my dad was driving because I had spent the night before getting drunk at Ashley’s. Ashley and I had made plans that night to go out “bar-hopping” in Greybull. Yeah. It was EXACTLY as you’d expect. Disappointing. I believe there are 4 bars in Greybull. The Silver Spur, the Smokehouse, Lisa’s, and another one whose name I can’t remember right now. The Silver Spur and the Smokehouse were like, grossly well-lit, and no one in the bar was under the age of 40. Bars… If you want to help your business and attract a younger crowd please do 3 things:

Turn off the bright, ugly, fluorescent lights. Ambient lighting is nice.

Don’t be in Greybull, Wyoming.

Stay open past 10 pm.

We ended up going to Lisa’s, a locally owned bar and restaurant. Honestly, not bad. I had two Chimney-Rock Margaritas, and a lot of chips and salsa. I saw two of my classmates from high school. One I used to have a crush on, the other, well, let’s just say, the good ol’ high school glory days are DEFINITELY over. That’s all that needs to be said. It's always nice to see people who used to relentlessly bully you go way down hill after high school. Karma, maybe? We went back to Ashley’s that night and I got progressively more drunk off of gin and La Croix (sounds white, I know). I think I ended up leaving her house at like 4:30 am after her brother Josh woke me up after I fell asleep on the basement couch. I got home, sadly ate some Ruffles potato chips in bed, and woke up an hour and a half later to sit in a cold car and drive to Riverton. Everything ended up being okay, thank god. I take good care of my body, obviously.

Like I said at the beginning, I also went to Riverton to meet up with friends. Robert and Shayna work for Wyoming Equality and have done some pretty amazing things for LGBTQ+ people in our state. They invited me to go with them to a 2-spirit meeting on the reservation in Fort Washakie. It was really amazing to gain a new perspective from a community I previously did not have a lot of knowledge about. I listened to everyone’s stories and experiences. It felt important. It IS important. There was a gift exchange of hand-made gifts when the meeting was over. I made a drawing to contribute:

I unofficially named it “There is power in a limp wrist”. I made it to kind of serve as a reminder to take pride in queer identity. I believe there is power in queer identity. I believe queer people are special.

After the meeting we went with everyone to a new Hookah bar in Riverton. The bar owner is black and queer. I think it is pretty great Wyoming has something like that. I’m happy that a black and queer business owner is being supported in Wyoming. It’s things like this that give me hope when I feel like the whole country is going to shit. Later that evening we went and ate at the Wind River Casino. After dinner, I put a dollar in the penny slot and won 5 dollars. A 500% profit. Go me. It paid back half of my meal. I had a good time. A little bit of my faith was restored yesterday. As I said, there is power in queerness.

It’s 11:20 now. Almost Christmas day.

Happy Holidays.

-E

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sending-the-message · 7 years

Text

Never Trust the Online Reviews by DanJosephWrites

They say it's hard to restart your life after prison. I'll tell you it's damn near impossible. I used to be a business analyst cranking out spreadsheets and presentations in a cubicle. Good money, decent hours. Then one night it happened. We were out at a bar and this guy kept talking to my girlfriend. He was being a creep and just wouldn't leave her alone. I told him to fuck off. He spit in my face. I snapped, and cracked him with a beautiful shot halfway up his jaw-line. I turned around to see my friends reactions, and when I looked back the creep was bleeding out on the floor. It was a freak accident - he hit his head on a sharp corner on the way down and that was that.

Eight months and tens of thousands of dollars later I was headed to lock-up for manslaughter. Me, the preppy Finance major from a state school, going off to a medium-security prison. I won't dwell on my time there, just trust me when I say that you never want to be put in a box like that.

I got released early six years later, and it felt like I had been in a time capsule. Everyone else had moved ahead while I was stuck washing prison jumpsuits and eating rubberized food. The girlfriend that I had literally killed for was a fat, married mother of two now. My friends were on track for management positions at consulting firms. My own family shunned me after the damage I had done to our 'good name and reputation.'

So I ended up desperate and almost alone in Jacksonville. I had one contact left from school, Sean, that let me stay in his garage until I could get back on my feet. Well, that was the plan at least. Then his wife searched my name online and found out that I was a murderer. So I ended up desperate and very alone in Jacksonville.

After weeks of hunting for jobs on the public library computers I finally heard back for an opening. Shit hours and minimum wage for a sketchy call-center, but I needed the money. The hiring manager, Bill, sent me some forms to fill out. I swallowed the lump in my throat and checked the Felony box on the first form and added my now-boilerplate explanation of how I killed a guy by accident that one time. I pressed send.

I wasn't optimistic; I had been down this road before. Everything was great until the whole felony thing. Turns out most hiring managers didn't want to call me back after that. I guess I get it; I wouldn't have wanted to share an office with a dirty felon back when my life was happy and perfect.

But Bill e-mailed me right back saying that I was hired. I couldn't believe it, so I point-blank asked him if he had read all of my materials, and he assured me that he had. He said something corny about how he was interesting in the man I was now, not six years ago. I started that next day.

After a marathon bus ride and a hike across the city I made it to the office. In truth it was the dirtiest floor of a nearly-condemned building tucked into a rusting old industrial park. The setting seemed appropriate.

Bill met me at the door. He was a fat guy, balding with yellowed teeth that drew attention away from the busting seams in his shirt. He was the guy who showed up to 40-and-up speed-dating events wearing a cheap suit and borrowed cologne.

"Tim!" he boomed with a harsh voice. His greasy hand clasped mine. "Let me give you the grand tour!"

The carpeted hall opened up to a hive of dated computer screens. Sad, sallow people slumped in front of them, like well-trained zombies in headsets. I figured that's how I'd look in a few days here too.

"This is where the magic happens," Bill said. "We contract with travel websites and resorts primarily. You'll be working on customer service; helping folks with booking and their arrangements while they're guests at the resort. We do some new work with travel review sites too, but you'll learn about that later."

He stopped and leered at me. "Do you believe in the Bible, Tim?"

I didn't know how the hell to answer that, so I didn't. He cackled and thrust a heavy binder into my arms.

"This is your Bible, Timmo. Transfer numbers, scripts for every possible situation...if this thing knew how to talk it would take your job in an instant, mkay?"

I nodded. This couldn't be too hard. Bill led me over to a scrawny, beady-eyed guy in a red and black bowling shirt.

"This is Leon, the shift-lead. He'll be monitoring your calls to make sure you're doing everything by the book."

Leon bared his teeth in what I think was supposed to be a smile. Then Bill took me into his office to sign some paperwork.

"By the way...if for whatever reason a customer calls and says there's an emergency or they want to talk tot he police, you patch the call into my office, okay? The transfer line's on the first page of the Bible."

"Sure."

"Okay. Great, champ. One more thing - since we're adding new clients every day we really need to ensure their privacy and security. So sign this Non-Disclosure Agreement.

I leafed through the many pages. It seemed severely restrictive. Judging from the one pre-law course I took in college this thing wasn't legal and wouldn't hold up in court.

"Uh...and if I don't feel comfortable signing it?"

Bill chuckled. "Ohhh Tim, you young guys are great jokers. You could do that, and then I would fire you." He leaned over the desk and his voice lowered. "Good luck finding another job as a felon when your one work reference tells them what a horrible, insubordinate employee you were."

Jesus Christ. "Alright man, alright. Here." I signed the damn thing.

Bill patted me on the shoulder with a heavy paw. "Faaaantastic! Go to your desk, study the Bible, and Leon will get you up and running on the system. Welcome aboard."

The days flew by. Overtime shifts, hours of mind-numbing calls about a stupid bed being a queen when the customer specifically requested a king, or the balcony being to small, or the room not looking exactly like the pictures online.

I read the shitty scripts, the customers cussed me out, and they hung up. I quickly learned that the joke was on them. Our online reviews stayed at 4.8 stars. It didn't matter what your customers thought if you controlled the rating systems. Leon snickered and told me that the resorts all had 'arrangements' with rating companies to make sure their reputations stayed golden. We copied this practice, and people kept on booking.

Strangely I didn't get to know my co-workers. Bill kept us separated, small-talk was forbidden, and there were no breaks. And of course, nobody stayed around after a twelve-hour shift to shoot the shit.

I remember when I handled my first emergency call. It was from a scared woman on an excursion. Let me explain - basically companies offered day-trips like boat rides or four-wheeling trips in the desert to customers staying at resorts. The woman calling me was on a four-hour catamaran trip off the coast of her resort.

"Help!" she whispered into my headset. "The crew are robbing us. They beat my husband and took him away. Call the police!"

A shiver ran down my spine, and my fingers fumbled for the transfer page.

"Hang on ma'am, I'll connect you to the manager." I patched the call to Bill, flagging it as an emergency. I watched him take it through his window, and hang up a few seconds later. I sat there, wondering what had happened. I couldn't take not knowing. I walked over and knocked on his door.

"What?"

"Uh, that lady. Did you help her?"

Bill looked confused. "Huh?"

"The woman who just called!"

"Ah. She was drunk out of her mind, ignore it."

"Uh..she didn't sound drunk."

"Listen kid, I've worked with that company for years. They're good guys." Then he remembered our roles. "Are you on a break? Get back to your desk!"

I scurried out of there, but that call stuck with me. I was exhausted after my shift but I couldn't sleep. I searched for the problem company online - Eduardo's Excellent Tours and Excursions, and laughed. they had a perfect 5-star rating, of course. I gave up for the night and passed out, waking up to my shrill alarm clock just a few hours later.

The calls were normal for a while after that, but my suspicion grew with each day. Something wasn't sitting right about this whole thing. Finally, on a whim, I went out and bought a phone tap. When it was my day to clean Bill's nasty office - oh yes, we had to clean his office out every day as part of our job - I brought the tap with me. My hands shook as I struggled to hook it up to his phone. I was finishing the job when Leon barged in. My breath caught in my throat.

He leered at me, then said "your shift starts in five minutes."

"Oh, right. Be right there." I finished up and left, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I waited a few days to make sure Leon didn't suspect anything and Bill didn't notice the tap. After four days I figured it was safe, so I linked it to my headset. I got a chance to test it a week later. A man called me, frantically babbling.

"Help you need to call the police! Th-the catamaran excursion, Eduardo's excursion. They took my wife!"

"Slow down sir. What do you mean?"

"They said she was too drunk and needed medical care below-deck. But we both swore off drinking years ago. They're lying and I don't know what they're doing down there!"

"Okay hang on sir." I transferred the call to Bill and waited, holding my breath until it hurt.

A moment later their conversation entered my ear. The tap was working, thank god. The man repeated his story, and Bill told him the local police would be dispatched immediately. Then he hung up and took a smoke break. I watched him leave, no-one called the police.

I felt sick. I had confirmed it, this company was enabling god knows what to happen to innocent tourists. I...was getting paid minimum-wage to lie and cover up the tracks. But I thought back to my first conversation with Bill and knew he was right. He'd fuck me over and leave me unemployed and homeless. I decided that all I could for now was to collect more information and find out what was going on.

I had been dragging ass at work before then. Obviously, no-one was terribly motivated in that environment. But now I had a purpose. I doubled my customer engagement speed so that I could get back to spying on Bill more often.

Listening in was like torture. Most of his calls during the work day were to phone-sex lines, and this dude was into some far-out shit. Finally one Friday I struck gold. I caught him on a call to the owner of Eduardo's.

"Look shithead, we got a problem. Cut out this sexual shit. Stick to the original plan - rough 'em up a bit and rob 'em, and go on your way."

"My friend, it was a mistake. One guy got drunk and tried to go too far. We stopped him and...made sure he wouldn't do it again."

"I don't want to know, just don't let it happen again. And up my cut 10%, I'm catching a lot of shit for you up here."

"Fuck off. Best I can do is 4."

"Fine, fine. Look, I gotta run. We'll talk later."

Eduardo hung up. Before I could do the same, I heard something else.

"Tim, my office." It was Bill. On his phone. I gasped and looked up to see Bill staring right through me. My heart raced as I took off the headset and staggered towards his office. He sat me down and glared silently for a minute.

"You think a guy in my kind of business is stupid? You think I'd talk that openly about that shit if I didn't pay attention to exactly who was listening in?"

I shook my head.

"Good, college boy. Now you're using that big brain of yours." He sat on the edge of his task, looming over me. "I can tell you're going to be a problem, so here's a proposition. Keep working here and doing the right thing, and I'll give you a 2% kick-back every time we contract a successful robbery or...other item. Look, you eavesdropped. We don't tolerate sexual harassment. Just robbery, no lasting damage. Well...some of our newer companies like murder but they're a lot rarer, and you have to deal with the black market for organs and it's complicated. Anyways, that's the smart play."

He leaned further, his belly resting uncomfortably on my knee.

"Then there's the alternative. I plan hard drugs in your locker and you go back to jail."

I stared dumbly at him.

"Oh yes. Who do you think they'd believe? A disgraced former murderer, or old Bill - the pillar of the community giving a second chance to criminals?

I shuddered at the thought but we both knew I was still trapped.

"Atta boy. Back to work, then. Keep an eye on your paychecks and you'll see the extra money when good things happen."

As I shuffled numbly back to my desk the phone rang.

"Hello, how may I help you sir or ma'am?"

"Hi. Um, I booked a king bed but the resort says they have my name for a a twin?"

"No problem ma'am. Let me send an update over and you should be all set." I tapped some keys and submitted the form. "Okay, that should be resolved. Anything else?"

"No. Well, actually while I have on you the phone - my husband and I are torn between excursions. How's Eduardos? They have great reviews online."

My stomach felt queasy as I sensed Bill's leering eyes on me. My voice was wooden. "Ed's is great, 5-stars for a reason. Enjoy your trip."

"Thanks for your help!"

I hung up.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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greylunar · 6 years

Text

This Poem Is a Real Male Bathroom, For Real Men™️ Only.

“I know something is wrong when he turns around at the urinal.

Despite being new to this whole bathroom thing, I am certain that there is a rule about this specifically.

As he asks me what my name is, I wash my hands.

I almost say Miles, the name my mother says she would have given me if I was born a boy, but my brain tells me that this is too gay. My own name does not even cross my mind.

Miles is the name of my grandfather. He worked in the same steel mill for forty six years. I do not believe he ever looked at a man for more than five seconds at a time. I know this, because he is the one who taught me to keep my head down at the urinal. To keep my head down at all times.

Still, I say Max. In my mouth, it sounds like a dogs name.

I stand there, and try to remember the steps that go into washing your hands as he keeps talking. I am aware he is facing me completely now, I am aware of his frame in the background of the mirror I cannot look at, I am aware that there is one rule in male bathrooms, and so my brain keeps looping and repeating do not look up do not look up do not look up.

“The poets job, in the midst of the flood, is to remember the color of the water.”

And again.

I joke to my friends that I am not sure if my superpower is time travel or teleportation. We decide that it is the latter, because if I could time travel, I would just go forward til things were better. Instead, I just end up somewhere else days later, blinking back into my body, trying to remember how I got there. I am not wearing my jacket anymore. I still can’t find it now, and I only have a vague recollection of frantically looking for a sharpie to scribble out the rainbow flag on the outside, not because I am ashamed but because I have always needed a safety blanket even now and it just doesn’t feel safe anymore.

My sister made it for my eighteenth birthday, not to celebrate my birth but my continued existence, she says it is a gift so I can remember how brave I have been.

I am wearing it when I am too scared in an empty cafe to hold the boy I want to marry’s hand.

I do not like that my sheer existence is heroic.

Later that night, or maybe a month before, I have been teleporting so much lately that I can’t remember time, I ask my partner if he thinks I am gay enough.

He asks me what I mean, and I do not know how to answer him,

I cannot tell if people see me as a boy or girl when they look at me anymore or if I just look small.

I tell him that it feels like I am just now realizing that I have missed my train, and that I have simply been sitting at the station for eighteen years waiting for something that simply not come,

When a girl tells me I am pretty I think of how I pictured myself looking in college.

I stand next to my little brother as we get out of the car and he is three heads taller than I will ever be,

I remember joking with him, when I did not know anything, that I would always make a better soldier than him.

I remember the first time I realized he would always be stronger than me when a news alert goes off on my phone saying I am too expensive to be in the military.

I tell my boyfriend that I have never seen myself as trans as I picture my father in germany, my grandfather taking a picture of him in uniform as he helps pull a man over a wall my father made sure crumbled, I wonder if the picture took him more than five seconds to take, or if it’s okay to look at men through glass, through a viewfinder.

The water is bathroom as I wash my hands. My name is not Max. I know this, because it took me four years to choose the perfect one. To make sure it fit right, like a safety jacket.

On a Thursday, my therapist asks me why I am scared, and suddenly I am in bed reading a text from a friend that asks the same thing, and maybe it actually is time travel.

“I do not know.” I say, both times, and they echo and I can’t make out which voice is mine, the high pitched one in my head or the one people hear when they meet me again for the first time in years.

A boy once wrote me saying he was happy I was finally writing happy poems. Even as I tell myself that life is circular, and sometimes backwards still be forwards, I try to make this poem happy for him.

As I write this, I know I am travelling faster than the speed of light. That a few days from now I will blink and wake up and find this on my computer and wonder how it happened.

I will continue to taste the word brave on my tongue and try and use it to wash the sound of Max out of my mouth.

I continue to try and name of the color of this flood, but it does not feel colorful, it does not feel rainbow. It still looks clear when I wash my hands.

I am itching more lately, and I try not to think about being allergic to my body.

The water is clear when it washes over skin that I cannot tell is mine.

The water is clear still.

I turn the faucet off. And I dry my hands. I have remembered these steps, in the end.

The water was clear, still.

And I am in love, still.

And I am love, still.

And I try to think of how all these things can exist at once.

And I land on the answer.

I am in multiple places at once.

I refuse not to call this a superpower.

I have decided to title this poem This Poem Is a Real Male Bathroom, For Real Men™️ Only.

And I want the guy whose penis I did not look at in that bathroom, to know,

That this poem is not for him.

Because I was the only real man in that room.”

-Taliesin Grey

#look yall please dont discorse me with this #im just tired #taliesin personal #poetry #tw: negativity #tw: anxiety #tw: transphobia #tw: homophobia #tw: disasociation #disasociation #homophobia #transphobia #anxitey #poem #slam poetry #slam poem #if i didnt tag anything or didnt tag somethign right please let me know #long post #long poem

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