#have always been ​annoying and frustrating and deeply triggering and depressing for me

[celestial-sapphicss]

home school is frustrating to watch not because the show is bad (i love the show i have so many thoughts) but because despite the wildly different reasons (and stakes and intensity), seeing the education institution systems making students do things without any explanation or logic or reason just because they can and being absolutely unreasonable is very real of them.

[finned-fish]

Vent Post

⚠️Trigger WARNING⚠️

Physical Abu//, Sui//, Sui//al ideation.

Really do hate interacting with new people. It's been so long since I've done that. Well, did it today in phasmo and rediscovered that I am a nuisance to all.

I am that "everybody leaves me" person, except it's more accurate to say they don't interact with me on a closer level in the first place. People do figure out why.

Autism, OCD, ADHD combined type, Chronic Generalized Anxiety, Chronic Major Depressive. All diagnoses of mine. Traumatized regularly and consistently.

I forgot that I talk too much, or that I do something wrong. Idk what I do. I don't know what it is about me but no matter how much I mask, mirror, or even script up entire new personalities, I'm just off-putting. People dislike me. Either that or they coddle me. Treat me like some young adolescent that still needs to learn how to properly communicate and interact with others. I hate it.

I always see people talk about how horrible the "everybody leaves me" person is, or the "nobody wants to be friends with me" person is. Someone was talking abt that and said "especially when they don't even know why." I don't know why. I don't know what I do wrong. Nobody will tell me. It doesn't seem like I've wildly offended anyone. I don't know what I do. If someone just told me what I do wrong I'd fix it. Why am I such a problem? What do I do wrong?

I'm consistently ignored, undermined, dismissed, and coddled.

That or I'm constantly annoying, frustrating, too loud, or too talkative.

I try so hard to be right for other people.

And I hate it when people give me that fucking "just be yourself bullshit." All that "being myself" got me was severe physical beatings multiple times a day.

I'm supposed to move in with the two people I love most. Never in my life have I cherished a connection as much as I do with these people.

Even when I had someone who I was deeply in love with and who was deeply in love with me. She gave me everything and accepted me purely as I was. And then she killed herself. And I didn't know to cherish the connection more. I cherished her more than anything, but I did not know then that cherishing her and cherishing our connection were two different things.

So I don't know if I can move in with these two people. If I am that "everybody leaves me/nobody wants to be friends with me person", I don't want to interact with them or hurt them like all those videos and all those people say the "everyone leaves/no friends" person does.

What should I do? I don't know what to do. I've hovered my finger over that block button so many times. To just disappear.

Is it greedy not to? Should I just disappear for them? Am I being selfish? I love these two people so much, and I don't want to disappear from them.

I don't know what to do anymore. I'm just sinking. I'm so comfortable with them and I am myself around both of them, and every time I say something or send a message, it feels like I pinched a nerve. I worry so severely that I've done something wrong. It doesn't even matter if they're typing their response or talking to me, I still worry.

And I try to act like I don't worry. I don't constantly put myself down or require constant reassurance from them. I am not forcing a codependent relationship or anything. So I don't think that's it either, since I do a pretty good job of that.

I don't know what I'll do when it comes time to move in. I can't imagine myself getting any better or being any better by then. At so many different points at my life I've been sure that I reached my max potential and still wasn't enough, and I was wrong. It's happened over and over and over again. And after all those times of still getting better, I'm also still not enough. And once again I'm at a point where I think I've reached my max potential. And that there is nothing left for me.

And so now I just wonder how long I can keep going before I make a decision? I have such a strong feeling of doom. And I know what it is. I feel it in the strings, and I know that I'm only going in one of two directions.

I move in with them, and that's as far as I can see. The strings end there. Or I fall the other direction.

If I may be dramatic for a moment:

It's a massive pit. It's oozing such horrible doom. I can't describe the potency of it other than saying that it squelches out and climbs up the strings that I feel are tugging me into it.

And saying these "two directions" I already know I'm only going in one already. I am careening towards suicide so rapidly. I think I just didn't wanna sound utterly hopeless or cliché but there isn't another direction. No strings pulling me towards those two. I look and there's none. And I'm not going to make any.

I don't know when I will commit, but I know it's going to happen within the next six months. It feels somewhere between late January and early April.

Is it cold or heartless to be this analytical? Is that the problem? I can use "both halves" of my brain — emotional and intellectual — in tandem and as completely separate entities. It's not the same as turning my emotions off, either. No matter how heightened my emotional state it I have perfect analytical clarity. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe people can somehow feel that and they don't like it.

Now i do feel heartless. I feel entirely neutral — and even at peace — when I ask myself "which part do I cull?"

And I don't care, actually, because I'd do anything to fix myself. So I don't really feel anything about how horrible I imagine that ultimatum must sound to others. And even then I don't know if it sounds that horrible. But if I had to terminate one of those two parts of me I wouldn't hesitate, I just need to figure out which one it is.

And unfortunately, there's no strings with the answer to that.

[mavmax]

The Art of Vulnerability | Maverick + Sooyun

When: June 21st, 2021

Where: Maverick’s Apartment

Warnings: Emotional breakdown, Depression, Self-loathing

Featuring: @sooyunjeong

Maverick laid on Sooyun's lap, his mind was in and out of watching what was on tv and his own clouded mind. He felt guilt, but he didn't show it to her, he wanted to be brave for her, be tough, and protect her. That was what he had to do, after all, but, even then, he could feel himself fighting back tears, when one managed to slip down his cheek, and he tried wiping it away before it landed on her lap.

sooyun jeong

Sooyun was watching a kdrama, a show that was beyond cheesy romance and figured it was a decent show to watch while she unwind from practice and her hand began throbbing from over using it. She was preoccupied by the male lead aggressively shouting in korean when she felt him move, glancing down at him on her lap, she reached down to smooth his hair with her left hand and leaned over to catch a look at his face. “Are you okay?”

Maverick froze at Sooyun’s question for a moment. Should he say that he was okay? Smile it off and nod and go back to the show? Or should he show the vulnerability, open up fully for once and let down that wall that he knew he had put up at Pride. He let out a shaky sigh, and shook his head quietly.

sooyun jeong

Sooyun realized that this was going to be something serious, her mind racing through reasons on why he was upset, so many ideas racing that she tried not to appear overwhelmed. Instead she tilt her head, “what’s wrong?”

Maverick could feel a part of him fighting to not even show a semblance of vulnerability. Part of the wall wanted to go up, to show that he got this, that he could lie and say he was tired, but in reality...the other part wanted to open up to Soo, he was hurt, exhausted, frustrated all at once. "I'm tired," He began softly. "I'm tired of not feeling like I'm wanted by anyone."

sooyun jeong

Hearing his voice, the difference between his usual tone and this one, she realized that perhaps he was hurting. Sooyun turned his face to look up at her, “what are you talking about? You are wanted.” She said softly, it pained her to see him like this, she can see the vulnerability in him and it made her realize he was always having this facade up.

When Sooyun turned Mav's face towards hers, his vision was instantly blurred by tears as he shook his head. "People are always like 'hey, you want him? cause I don't', whenever I do something that's just...a part of me. I've had that, my whole life. There was a part in my life, where I felt really unwanted and whenever I hear it, I can't help but wonder if everyone's...better...off without me. So, there's that," He responded calmly, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to escape him. He was finally letting down his walls.

sooyun jeong

Sooyun felt an immense guilt fill her chest, thinking back to when Soo thought she was joking but realized it was a trigger for Maverick, her eyes soften as she used her thumb to wipe away the tear that was ready to fall. “Mav…” she trailed off, her voice shaking, swallowing down the feeling as she gave him a smile. “Life without you would be boring, when I said that…when I said those words to Blaine, I was joking—not knowing that it affects you deeply. I’m sorry I said those words without thinking about your feelings. I was just angry at what your ex did to you without your consent and I took it out on you.” Sooyun lowered her gaze, talking about feelings and such was still a hard thing for her to do but she was slowly growing to understand. “I love everything about you Mav, even the parts that annoy me, I still find myself loving you even more.”

Maverick took a shaky breath to calm his own breathing, it was hard to even address his own feelings without feeling like he was drowning in them. Soo's touch, however, kept him afloat. He took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "It's not your fault, you didn't know," He said softly. When her gaze shifted, he knew that it was hard for Sooyun to open up, too. It was something both of them had in common, after all. He reached his hand up to her cheek. "It's something I didn't think I'd ever talk about, my sisters know, Eric knows by proxy...but, I wanted to be strong for you, that's why I didn't want to say anything, you know? I love you and I just...I wanted to be that protective boyfriend."

sooyun jeong

“You don’t always have to be the strong protective boyfriend Mav, you’re human, just be open with me.” Soo reassured him, meeting his eyes once more and leaned into his touch, taking in his features and pushing some of hair away from his face. “I’m tired of people thinking they need to be strong for me, I’m a big girl and I can handle anything thrown my way…I want you to be okay….to be mentally okay as well.”

"I've always had to...be the protective one, you know? The one time I just...existed, well, we know what happened there," Mav chuckled dryly, but he nuzzled into Soo's touch. His vision getting clearer as he focused on her warm brown eyes. "I know...trust me, I know you're capable. Hell, you broke your hand for me and I can't help but feel guilty. I don't want you to hurt yourself for me," He sighed. "I wanna be okay, I wanna be vulnerable around you, you know?"

sooyun jeong

Sooyun rolled her eyes and lightly flicked his forehead, “I didn’t break my hand for you, I broke it because I was so mad that I didn’t hold my hand correctly for a fist. All I was thinking is just one bop to the face would do but I didn’t think she had it in her to fight back.” She grabbed his hand and brought it up to her mouth to kiss it, “you need to stop blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”

Maverick chuckled lightly at Soo’s finger flick and he used his free hand to rub his forehead lightly. “I know, I just…I still felt responsible, you know? I know she deserved the sock to the face which, was epic, but, yknow,” he sighed. He smiled at her gesture and as a result he slowly got up to finally face her properly. “I’ll try,” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.

sooyun jeong

Sooyun let her lower lip poke out in a pout and wrapped her arms around him, nudging his forehead with her own, “Since I’m still learning new things about you…we should make up a word to inform each other we are upset instead of storming out of the room. When you left abruptly, I wanted to chase after you but obviously they made me go check my hand then I had to go on stage. I don’t want you to face these situations alone…I want you to be able to lean on me.”

Maverick smiled at Sooyun’s cute pout and curled into her instinctively, letting his own warms wrap around her small frame. He rested his forehead against hers and let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, we can do that…I’m sorry for storming out, by the way. I tend to do that before I lash out and I don’t ever want to at you,” He said softly. “No, no, I get it, which by the way, you killed it on stage. Broken hand and all,” He teased. “I won’t face it alone, not anymore…” His hand went softly to her cheek and he then said, “This sounds basic, but maybe code red? Or just saying red? I could also hold your hand if I say it if we’re standing next to each other?”

sooyun jeong

“Code red can work…red…it’s simple and easy to remember.” She agreed with him, she wanted to be able to be there for him, through the good and ugly of it. She knew relationships weren’t always going to be fairytale like, it was supposed to be hard to learn to lean on someone other than yourself. “If you lash out on me, I will find it incredibly hot to see you pissed and allow you to yell at me,” She admitted with a smirk

"I was thinking the same, nothing too complicated, you know?" Maverick offered with a small smile. It was definitely huge progress than before. It wasn't always going to be rosy and easy. Sometimes there was going to be bumps in the road, sometimes they were going to clash, but through Sooyun, he learned how to lean on someone emotionally rather than go into it independently, because after all, a relationship was two people and their emotions, not just one. "Babe," He laughed, shaking his head. "Are you saying you want me to be a little more aggressive?"

sooyun jeong

Sooyun laughed, "Yes that's exactly what I am asking, because instead of storming out, just grab my hand and pull me away somewhere quiet and you can take your frustrations out on me--or if you need a shoulder to cry on." She let her cast rest onto her lap, she wanted Maverick to at least lean on her in tough times, to think that two months ago she wouldn't have cared yet here she was.

"I'll do better and not storm out on you, but I also won't yell at you because I know that shit sucks...but, if you want me to be aggressive, all you gotta do is ask," Mav teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "But yeah...I'll let you know when something's bothering me from here on out, I promise." And he meant every word. A few months ago, she would've been the last person he'd go to, but she was there for him and understood him.

sooyun jeong

"But what if I want you to grab me and we leave and I allow you to take out your frustrations on me?" She playfully batted her eyelashes and laughed, reaching up to caress his cheek, "As long as you know I am here now, i will support whatever choices you make--I'll most likely question it but I will be here."

“I’ll wind up giving you so many hickeys,” Maverick chuckled at that thought of how rough he’d be with Sooyun. He nuzzled his cheek into her hand and the devilish grin had softened into his usual smile. “Thank you, Soo. And just know, I’m here for you too, okay? I know this opening up thing isn’t easy for both of us, but, I wanna make it work for us. Just like you’re doing for me.”

sooyun jeong

"Like you don't already? Who are you trying to play?" Sooyun laughed, the sound of the show playing some sappy music made her realize the show they were watching ended but at the moment she didn't care, Maverick was opening up to her and she enjoyed that. "We're working on it, we've both been hurt as you stated so of course it will take some time for the both of us to learn how to trust again. I want you to know I would never cheat on you...even though I was notorious for having multiple lovers, I can be faithful."

“But they’re tiny hickeys. The other ones out of frustration would be huge,” Maverick chuckled. It definitely didn’t help they were having this talk as the sappy kdrama music played in the background but at the same time, it was fitting for the moment. At Sooyun’s words he nodded with a smile, his hand reaching up to her cheek to caress it softly. “You’re right…and for what it’s worth, you won’t ever have to worry about me straying from you or getting hurt. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

sooyun jeong

"Small or large, they're still hickies," Sooyun laughed, "And besides, pretty much everyone knows we're dating at this point, which by the way, I love how we said we'd keep it on the down low, yet here we are." She knew her manager was most likely having a ball with that, soo on the other hand didn't care as long as people knew that Maverick was her boyfriend. "You better because, I don't think I can break my left hand or maybe I can ask Jae for advice."

“Hmmm…I guess you’re right,” Mav chuckled as he carefully watched her neck. “My favorite one is fading though, bummer,” He pouted for a moment. “Oh, definitely. Which is funny cause we did say we’d keep it on the low but here we are, holding hands and being cute in public…I like it though. I feel like it just brought us closer together you know?” He pointed out with a grin. “Um yeah let’s not break the other hand but hey push comes to shove, I’ll make out with you in public…or we could ask Jae for the best course of action?”

sooyun jeong

Sooyun could feel the heat of his gaze on her neck, the spot where the hickie he placed, it had her shiver in delight of him replacing it. She mentally told her hormones to relax as she tilt her head, "I mean...you can always place another one there again." She suggested innocently, but she knew that once he started anywhere near her neck she would allow it to go further. "I feel like Jae would just suggest to whack them in the face, but making out in public isn't so bad."

A smirk curled on Maverick’s lips as he watched Soo purposely tilt her neck towards him to show off the fading hickey, but also give him a free invite to add onto it. “Hmm,” Mav purposely leaned forward, letting his breath fall onto Soo’s neck. “Tempting but I should behave,”. He chuckled. “Yeah that’s true…let’s do less battery and more making out.”

[benyhw]

Day 3 - Reflections on emotional maturity

"Wielding sensible arguments can at points be as effective as telling a person with vertigo that the balcony wont collapse or a person with depression that there are perfectly good grounds to be cheerful" A lot of our mind is not amenable to hard-headed logic, not when emotions are involved

Yet, truly facing and understanding our emotions and then still be able to act with some rationality and logic is a testament to emotional maturity. There is more to love, forgiveness, trust than what we think we know.

I am sorry for my hurtful words, said in times of emotional turmoil. I regret my texts and posts, impulsive and raging. I've spent a lot of time reflecting on my actions, your thoughts and feelings and ultimately your decision. The turmoil I initially faced was truly a mixture of shock from how sudden things changed as well as the immense void your disappearance has caused. Given time, I have calmed down and could examine myself deeper on many levels.

I learned that I can be loved and that I can have wants and needs. I learned that my careless acts can hurt even when I don't recognise it at that point of time.

I know my mistakes and can see its damages. I triggered this whole chain of events, rocking what was a seemingly stable relationship. I see that we are flawed, but not un-deserving of love. Our innate reactions and nature is built upon by our past, regardless whether we consciously know it or not. Some traumas and hurt that forms our current insecurities are born from history we may not even remember. Though this doesn't discount our current wrongs, it does help to allow us to understand people better.

I do know, that I can and should listen to what I want and love, not only to that of other's demands or requests. I can be selfish in love and loving. I can earnestly seek forgiveness and then put in action to repent and atone for the wrongs I've made. Yet forgiveness and moving on from the hurt I've caused, is not mine to give or take. It is for me to earn and for you to heal from. I can only do what I believe is best, in terms of my love for you and love for myself. I do feel, we both have a lot to learn in terms of emotional maturity and have ways to go to truly understand what it means to love, to hurt, to trust and to forgive.

=====

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGV5o6UHjxM - Stay in or Leave a Relationship We expect to be deeply happy in love, and, therefore, spend a good deal of time wondering whether our relationships are essentially normal in their sexual and psychological frustrations or are beset by unusually pathological patterns which will impel us to get out as soon as we can. What films or novels we've been exposed to, the state of our friend's relationships, the degree of noise surrounding new sexually driven dating aps, not to mention how much sleep we've had, can all play humbling large roles in influencing us one way or another. How much of our unhappiness can be tightly attributed to this particular partner, and how much might it, as we would risk discovering five years later and multiple upheavals later, turn out to be simply and inherent feature of any attempt to live in close proximity to another human? Try to have another conversation with your partner in which you don't accuse them of mendacity, and instead simply explain, quite calmly, how you actually felt and how sad you are at quite a few things Consider the annoying traits in all previous partners we've had and people we've known, that our current partners happen to not have, what do we manage not to fight about?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLq1ktogxn4 - What infidelity means There are, of course, many cases where infidelity means exactly what Romanticism takes it to mean: contempt for one’s relationship. But in a great many other cases, it may mean something really rather different: a passing, surface desire for erotic excitement that coexists with an ongoing, sincere commitment to one’s life-partner. The best way to recover after an infidelity may therefore be to ignore what Romanticism tells us that infidelity has to mean, and to consult instead a more reliable source of information: what we ourselves took infidelity to mean the last time the idea crossed through our minds or our lives. It is on this basis that we may – with considerable pain of course – come one day to be able to forgive and even in a way understand and accept the apologies of a repentant partner. It is on the basis of subjective experience of unfaithful thoughts that we may redemptively enrich, complicate and soften what happens when we end up as their victims.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRaaqN2Atxw - Why We Go Cold On Our Partners Going cold is, in this story, simply the unavoidable consequence of familiarity. he loss of interest isn’t either natural or inevitable. The boredom is something at once more complicated and more active. It exists because we feel hurt by, angry with, or scared of our partner and because we haven’t found a cathartic way to tell ourselves or them about it. Tuning out isn’t inevitable, it’s a symptom of disavowed emotional distress. It’s a way of coping. We’re internally numbed – not just a touch bored. To learn to cope, we need a prominent mutual awareness and forgiveness of this dynamic of sensitivity and distress – and a commitment to decode it when disengagement and indifference descend. When we've gone cold, we may not truly have lost interest in our partners, we might just need an opportunity to imagine that we are quietly really rather hurt and furious with them and we should access to a safe forum in which our tender but critical feelings can be aired, purged and understood without risk of humiliation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgQvqi6aYD8 - The Secret of Successful Relationships: Rupture and Repair Repair refers to the work needed for two people to regain each other's trust and restore themselves in the others mind as someone who is essentially decent and sympathetic and can be a good enough interpreter of their needs Repair isn't just one capacity among others, it is arguably the central determinant of one's mastery of emotional maturity Good repair relies on at least 4 separate skills: The ability to apologise The ability to forgive - To do so requires us to extend imaginative sympathy for why good people can end up doing some pretty bad things, not because they are evil but because they are in their varied ways tired or sad, worried or weak. It lends us energy to look around for the most generous reasons why fundamentally decent people can at points behave less than optimally. We cling to rupture because it confirms a story which, though deeply sad at one level, also feels very safe: that big emotional commitments are invariably too risky, that others can't be trusted, that hope is an illusion The ability to teach - They give their listener time and know about defensiveness and as a fallback, accept that they may have to respect two different realities. They can be in the end bear to accept that they will always be a bit misunderstood even by someone who loves them very much The ability to learn - They have a lively and non-humiliating sense of how much they still have to take on board. It isn't a surprise or a cause for alarm that someone might level a criticism at them. Its merely a sign that a kindly soul is invested enough in their development to notice areas of immaturity, and in the safety of a relationship, to offer them something almost no one otherwise even bothers with: feedback.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ci-zID4EAPU - How to deal with trust issues 1. Ask yourself how your reactions line up with reality - The thoughts we may have may not always be an honest perception of what is happening 2. Learn to be non defensive when you communicate - Chances are, people take the time to talk to you because they care about you and not because they want to hurt you 3. Let people know what you need and be direct about it - In order to build trust, you have to be open and honest. People often have trust issues because they are afraid of getting hurt. Trust issues are developed when too much focus is concentrated on the pain, but not enough on overcoming the pain. 4. Give people a chance to show you who they are - Give people time to show you their true colours, and you may be surprised that you can go through challenges well together 5. Practice open-ended conversations that allow disagreements 6. Confront your fears and don't allow them to hold control over you - Remember, you have the power to work through your struggles openly and honestly. You have it in you to connect and build trust with others

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-K5btaxEFY - How to forgive It can be so hard to forgive because – so often – we simply are in the right and the scale of the folly, thoughtlessness and meanness of others seems utterly beyond our own measure. But there are 2 inviolable ideas which should nevertheless, in the face of the grossest behaviour, be kept in mind to increase our changes of being able to forgive: 1. We must remember how the other person got there, to this place of idiocy and cruelty - Every irritating fault in another person has a long history behind it. They became like this because of flaws in their development, which they did not choose for themselves. To forgive is to understand the origins of evil and cruelty 2. There are difficult things about you too - Not in any area remotely connected to the sort of lapses that destroy your faith in humanity. But in some areas, quiet areas that you forget about as soon as you've travelled through them, you too are a deeply imperfect and questionable individual. Gently, you have - in your own way - betrayed. Nicely, you have been a coward. Modestly, you have forgotten your privileges'. Unthinkingly, you have added salt to the wounds of others. We must forgive because - not right now, not over this, but one day, over something - we need to be forgiven too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVeq-0dIqpk - How to build (and rebuild) trust There is 3 facets of trust: Authenticity in actions, Rigor in logic and communicating that logic, True empathy towards the other

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NhyfBi-Ad4c - Loving and Being Loved We start knowing only about being loved. It comes to seem, very wrongly, like the norm. Parent and child may both love, but each party is on a very different end of the axis, unbeknownst to the child This is why adulthood, when we first say we long for love, what we predominantly mean is that we want to be loved as we are once loved by a parent In a secret part of our minds, we picture someone who will understand our needs, bring us what we want, to be immensely patient and sympathetic to us, act selflessly, and make it all better we need to move firmly out of the child and into the parental position of love To be adults in love, we have to learn, perhaps for the very first time, to do something truly remarkable, for a time at least, to put someone else ahead of us.

=====

I know, making this decision has not been easy on you. You struggled internally alone for 5 weeks before taking the brave step to pursue what you believed was right now. I can only imagine the turmoil you've been put through. I cannot and will not blame you for loving yourself more.

When I look at myself and what I've gone through in the past weeks, I do wonder how you are coping along as well. I do believe in what we had, which meant that these days were probably not as easy on you too as you make it seem. I never imagined that my actions were seen as infidelity to you and that while we know it was not ill-intentioned, the feelings you've felt and the hurt I've caused you are valid.

I hope the above few points and videos can eventually help you to heal and move on, to feel ok enough to love another again some day. I am always here to openly talk about us, about our feelings and about what we each want now or in the future for ourselves. In the past 2.5 years, have you done and said anything to anyone or just innately felt that you would feel afraid to tell me of? Has there ever been any breach of trust on your end or guilt, before my current mistake that made you feel betrayed? I am open, with no judgement or shame, to talk about these, if you are ever willing. I have done you wrong, and I truly have repented. I will never ever breach trust like that ever again, not even at the cost of feeling uncomfortable in sharing how I feel.

I too will love myself, doing my utmost best to pursue things I want and love because they make me happy. It is ok to be selfish in love, something I have learned from you that I am grateful for. Take care, I am only 1 text away

Love, Ben

[tokidokitrash]

I’ve never written a fic before (ok maybe when I was like 13) and I was just struggling a little mentally tonight. It’s a Long rambling off the Top of my head and it’s not gonna be any good but I tried. I would appreciate any constructive criticism you’d shoot my way.

It did help me feel better after writing this, so that’s a silver lining:D

I know the mysme fandom is kinda not as strong as it used to be, but reading other people’s fics really brightened my day, since I’m always on my own due to work.

I had this set as a longer timeline compared to the limited days in the game, and my MC clearly struggles with her own inner depression demons,

Sorry in advance about some stuff further down. I couldn’t help myself.

Italics are either MC’s thoughts or flashbacks.

———————————————————————————————

The way we are - 01

Dreadful, depreciating thoughts slowly crept their way into your thoughts, almost like they bore down on the back of your tightly shut eyes.

‘Not this again...’ you mentally scold yourself.

It had been a few weeks since your last battle. The constant struggle you fought deep within you- one only you knew about.

No one knew. No one could ever know. No one would be able to accept you. No one would be able to help either ways.

You curled yourself into a little huddle on your bed. The air-conditioner wasn’t on, leading the air to a standstill. It was suffocating, the stagnancy. But honestly, you couldn’t be bothered with the discomfort.

‘Stagnant air... stagnant just like my life has been...’

You chastised yourself again, me talking rolling your eyes at yourself, this time for being such a dramatic little bitch in your own little mind.

You hated yourself.

Things were actually getting better these past few weeks. You had the RFA and managing their affairs kept you solidly occupied.

Truthfully, that fateful day you encountered them, and they laid out the opportunity to you to help them be their new coordinator, you mentally leapt with joy at the chance.

Yes, the whole thing was pretty fishy, bogus, weird.

But you’d craved and relished the idea that you could be of some help to a greater cause. Your heart soared at the thought of being of use to someone.

It did come as a plus that the members of this new group were all such...unique personalities.

The lively, dramatic, narcissistic but caring Zen.

The adorable, innocent, wide-eyed Yoosung.

The strong and (seriously) overworked Jaehee.

The stern, calculative business man with the strangest streak of humour, Jumin.

And the mysterious hacker with the flaming red hair, the one whom you’d always felt you could ‘click’ with best, the one you were most attracted to,707.

In their own way, they lit up your life, the way they seemed to always be concerned with your wellbeing, peppering your day with their funny arguments and conversations.

Then shit hit the fan, didn’t it?

It had already been a few days since the whole ordeal with ‘Unknown’. It’s events still played fresh in your mind, but yet right now, they seemed so very far away.

Seven had come to your rescue, but since that day, he’s been anything but a knight in shining armour.

Before the incident, you both had so much fun through the limited calls to each other and the chat.

You felt warm feelings towards Seven blossom in your chest every time you heard his voice. And with the way he seemed to flirt back with you, you had the slightest impression that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in you too.

It felt so nice to banter with him, to feel some sort of electric connection between you two.

But these days, it seems that the happy-go-lucky, capable 707 was gone.

The other day, he even lashed out at Yoosung, who called you, distraught and crying over the incident.

You’ve tried to be strong, you understood that whatever transpired that day must have triggered Seven towards reacting this way. Constantly pushing you away, harshly berating you for leaving his sight, then berating you once more for coming too close to him. You wanted to be here for him, to let him know you cared for him more deeply then he knew and you’d accept and like to hear his story. You’d like to think of yourself as capable of helping provide comfort and reassurance to this beautiful mess of a man, despite whatever attitude shocking revelations of danger he may throw at you.

The key word here, is that you ‘tried’.

And sometimes, life gives you so much lemons, you get really sick of fucking lemonade.

You haven’t really left the room for about...maybe 2 days now, you estimate. Only sneaking out for essentials when you didn’t hear typing and it seemed that maybe Seven was asleep. Wallowing in your self-hatred, you think about the things you’ve wanted to accomplish and how you’ve failed them all.

Dammit, even the man you were so into seems to hate you now- and why shouldn’t he?

Depression had sinked her filthy claws into your heart once again, and though you may have won that battle against her before, you knew, deep in the recess of your mind, she was always waiting to crawl back out.

You hated every fibre of your being. Some days you’d wonder why you were even alive. What did you exist for? Even replying the emails from potential guests seem a chore too monumental right now. Why should they care about your invites? You’d ponder over what to send them, then delete everything you’ve typed out of fear you were being out of line or plain stupid, giving the RFA a bad name. Then you’d start to hate yourself more for letting the guests wait on your reply, get more upset with your own inefficiency. It was a vicious cycle in your mind, and it was always tough to break out of it.

You’ve managed before, and kept a happy persona in your interactions with the members. And that’s what you tried to do for Seven, even as he was scowling away, brows scrunched up in frustration at either his computer, or your mere presence. Either way, he let you know you were an annoyance he couldn’t be bothered to entertain.

And you started believing him.

So you’ve locked yourself away in your room. This was your problem to deal with. Your demons to face. You found a small comfort in hearing Seven typing away in the living room. It was odd, but knowing he was there made you feel safe...but so unwanted.

‘Come on MC... you’re a tough girl, so tough this one out. Yes you’re pathetic and there’s nothing more you hate in this world but yourself, but snap out of it.... please... happythoughtshappythoughtshappythoughtskittenspuppies..seven’svoiceandjokesandthoughtsoftakingyoutothemoon...’

Growling in frustration, you pull the pillow over your head and tried to scream into it, only to end up sobbing uncontrollably. Why were you like this? It’s so illogical...so, so stupid.

If only you could force yourself to be happy and cheery.

But admittedly, Seven’s attitude and coldness towards you really shut that cheery side of you down, faster than you’d like to admit.

You recall the freshest wounds he had inflicted upon you... you had tried to talk to him, as he seemed a little nicer that morning, despite being extremely sleep deprived, giving you a nod when you brought him coffee, and didn’t tell you off when you went to sit near him. You had wanted to express a little gratitude for how hard he was working for your sake.

—————

“Hey, Seven... thank you for working so hard fo-

‘“I’m just going to stop you there, you don’t have to say anything to me. You can just leave me alone.”’

“Aish~! I know that~! You’ve said that before, I just wanna thank you- you’re going to hurt my feelings you know” you pout, trying to stay light-hearted.

He takes off his glasses and rubs his temples upon hearing this. Sighing loudly, he adds;

“I don’t care about how you feel at all. I can’t be bothered if you’re hurt. I’m busy and don’t have time for this, so stop bothering me already!”’

“ I just-‘

‘“ just leave me alone.”’

You weren’t sure what made you decide to do this, but you whine quietly, feeling defeated, and perhaps this was actually a last ditch attempt to see if he cared.

“Seven...I’m going to start crying if you keep being so mean to me..”

He pauses, then he shifts in your direction,stony faced, cold liquid gold eyes bearing into your own brown eyes.

‘“Even if you cry, it doesn’t really matter to me.”’

Hearing that, you flashed him the best smile you could manage, hoping your pain wasn’t too obvious, muttered a few apologies and excused yourself to your room.

————-

...you were scared too, after the whole incident. But it seems he truly did not care about how you felt, like he hardly gave it any thought. like you were only a problem he had to fix ASAP to get a move on his life.

——————————————————-

Hours had probably passed when you jolt awake to a knock on your door.

“Oi, MC.” he starts in an annoyed tone “Are you okay? I tried calling you but your phone is dead. What are you doing in there for so long anyway?”

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you knew it must have been quite awhile if Mr cold-and-I-don’t-care-about-you was checking up on you. The room was dark, air still stale. Picking up your phone, you realise you haven’t checked it since the start of your mental battle. Yes, it was dead.

“MC?” You thought maybe you picked up a hint of worry though all that irritation this time. “.....I’m coming in.”

‘Wait what? Nonono did I lock the bloody door? He can’t see me like this I-‘

You bolt up from the bed, nearly tripping on your sheets as you rushed for the door, but you were a beat too slow, and the door was already ajar before your hand could touch the handle.

Golden irises pierce your gaze as your eyes adjusted to the invading light from outside your room, he pauses for a moment and his eyes seem to widen in shock at the sight of you...and your probably very disheveled appearance.

Hurriedly, you press your body against the back of the door, holding , preventing it from opening any further.

“MC?!” He called as he tried to peek his head past the door’s opening to get a better look at you.

You cleared your dry and raspy throat before finally replying the redhead-

“AHHHHh Seven! Geez, don’t you know that you’re supposed to give a lady more time to respond?! You can’t just open doors so suddenly you gave me such a start! Nearly let you see me all horrid looking after taking a nap ahaha ha”

Good lord you hope you sounded convincing, and not at all like you’ve been crying for the last godknowshowlong.

Seven goes quiet for a moment, and the tension in the air still hangs over you two. You notice one of his hands shift and holds onto the door frame as he steadily starts to push the door towards you. Trying your utmost best but failing to be lighthearted, you yelped and tried to swat his hand away, still fervently trying to push the door back against his force.

“Holddddup what are you doing Seveny stop trying to open the door! Didn’t you hear what I said???”

“I heard you. But I said I’m.coming.in.”

He pushes the door harder and you know you’re no match for his strength, and in a last ditch attempt to hide your appearance from him you grab a large towel you had hanging behind your door, wrap it over your head, letting it drape down your shoulders and dash for the corner of the room behind the door. You squat down, huddled in your new corner, and you hear Seven cuss when the door gives way easily at your absence, causing him to stumble into the room. Hearing him cuss a bit more, you sense his gaze sweeping the room, before feeling them land upon your huddled up frame at the corner. There’s a long pause before he quietly asks, incredulously

“..........MC, wh-what are you doing over there”

“I told you I was indecent looking now.... so I’m just going to stay in this corner since you so rudely barged in.” You quipped. Your choice of words may sound harsh but you say them in a sing-song manner. Seven just stays quiet after your reply, which leads you to ramble on, hoping to fill the silence

“So, uh, what’s up? Did you miss me? Come here cuz you’re missing little old me? Ahahhaha or did you manage to find something about this whole....shenanigan? Anyways a-aren’t you busy and all? I won’t bother you anymore so y-you don’t have to worry about me either ahhahaha...hahahah”

I sound insane.

You hear him sigh loudly, again, and it kind of reminds you of how your parents used to sigh at you when you were a disappointment. He mutters under his breath sometimes that’s sounds like ‘fucks sake’ and it cuts you off from your ramblings. You can’t stop the tears from springing to your eyes. You were still hurting, still wallowing. Trying to hide whatever negativity by being weird and using your own brand of humour. And now he was real, in your room and invading your space, you could feel your mind trying to come up with something, anything to avoid possible questions and maybe get him to leave.

“What’s all this? You’re being real weird now, hiding in that corner. I’ve seen you after your naps and you don’t usually look like....that. Turn around and face me, MC.”

You take a deep breathe through your nose, your way of stifling your sniffs from new tears,

“Ahhh you’re so indelicate, I can’t turn to face you, so uh why don’t you just wait outside and I’ll come out when I’m ready?”

“And when will that be? Talk to me MC. Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

No shit, Sherlock.

“Yaaaa Please God Seven, have mercy and give this lady a chance to *sniff* prep herself first”

You could almost hear him rolling his eyes at you, when he says

“Get out of the corner before I drag you out. Seriously, what are you even doing? “

Given his snappiness, you wouldn’t be surprised if he acted out his threat. But his question gave you a chance to exhibit your messed up coping mechanism.

“What am I doing? Fine, I’ll tell you. I’m not hiding myself, I’m prepping for my next cosplay.”

“HAH??” In a very, very annoyed tone.

“Here, look. “

In that moment, you slowly turned your body to face him, and put your hands down on the floor, still in a squatting position but with your hands between your knees. Towel still draped across your head and shoulder, you whisper in a low, slow voice,

“E.......Ed........Edward.....................Nii-san”

“..............’’

“GODDAMMIT MC “

Seven’s loud, booming shout really startles you, as you realise he’s left the room. You started to worry you’ve made him real angry this time, and wait for more cussing and shouting.....only to hear cussing and...laughter? His laughter grows, and soon he’s bellowing, and the raucous peals of laughter is music to your ears actually. Even though you’re still hurt from his words and demeanour, you’ve come to realise the effect this gorgeous man has on you, and it warms your heart a little that you’ve managed to make him laugh for the first time in a Long, Long time. He’s still cackling when you waddle towards the door, still covered mainly by the room’s darkness, peek out at him but with your body still in the same position.

“Hey man” you catch his attention and he stares at you, wiping tears away from his eyes “that’s not cool- that scene wasn’t funny at all in the anime-god you shouldn’t be laughing at this.”

Seven has his hands on his knees as you send him into another mini laughing fit.

You stay like this for awhile, feeling a little better after making 707 laugh, despite it not being your original plan at all. You hoped he’d have forgotten all about how you looked and how you ardently tried to hide from him the fact you’ve been a mess these last 2 days.

Now it just feels a little bittersweet. This whole thing is quite similar to how you’ve always dealt with hiding your hurt and pain from others, and a teeny, tiny part of you was sad that you felt the need to hide your feelings and emotions from the guy you adored.

Deep down, you wanted his comfort, but yet, was too afraid to seek it out.

You were now convinced that Seven perhaps truly had no feelings for you other than just as a ‘member of RFA’.

“Anyways...god Seven?”You whispered quietly once his laughter completely dies down. He looks up, having taken off his glasses to wipe his tears again.

“Ah?” He mutters breathlessly, looking at you through his fringe.

You realise you have it real bad, as this sight of him makes your breathe hitch a little and your heart beat faster. You will thoughts of him away as you continue

“I’m going to go and wash up, then um, head to bed now....“ you shift your hands to grip the towel’s ends, making it cover more of your face. Seven seems to notice how tightly you’re gripping the towel, and patiently waits for you to speak as your struggle to find the words.

“..I’m sorry about the other day, today. Well. Everyday. I hope you feel a little better... good night, okay? Take care of yourself, Remember to eat and sleep and I’ll just be here I Guess an—“

you stop yourself. You were rambling again. Pointless rambles. You forced a small smile, internally dying as you were now telling yourself to give up these feelings, bid him good night once more, and gently shut the door.

—————————————————

I’m sorry about the joke again. I had the idea and I couldn’t put it down.

[bhumblebih]

Into the Unknown (Bang Chan au)

Genre: angst+fluff

Warnings: I suck at this pls bear the shitty fic i wrote. I just thought i could do something lol

You know how there are days, where you just feel super lazy and don’t feel like doing anything because you’re just so done with everything. With life, with opportunities that you could’ve taken if you had made a different decision in the past. It all comes down to that one butterfly effect that changed it all. This was exactly how Kara felt until a special someone comes into her life.

It all started when she moved away for University. She had chosen to move to a different country for her Bachelors in hopes of finding new, better people to befriend with and also because she wanted a change in her lifestyle. She could’ve gotten into a university of the same worth in her hometown but triggered by the changes caused by some of her decisions, she decides to go to a University where she knew no one, in hopes of finding a new group and ultimately thinking that it’d change her life for the better.

The first semester goes by quickly and she realizes that her friend group is totally different from her and its been very hard to make new friends, so she just sticks with the people that she met on the orientation day. She was totally devastated by the fact that this was, in fact a hasty decision and that it’d have been way better if she had joined the University in her hometown. At least she’d have been able to meet her friends frequently. Deeply depressed by this realization, she continues to live her life like this until she met someone that forced her to think differently. 

Waking up at 7:00 made her regret her decisions even more as she had to take the bus for her to make it on time for her first lecture, which to her dismay was the lecture she hated the most. On her way to the class, she realizes that she forgot that she had lend her book to her groupmate for an assignment they were working on. 

She calls her friend and says “Hey Hyena, the class will start in about 5 minutes. When will you come?” to which her friend, Hyena replies “Hey, I wont be  coming today because I’m sick but don’t worry, I had Chan take it with him so he’ll give it to you as soon as he can so let me know when you get it.” 

The conversation soon ended with Kara telling Hyena to get well soon. Chan and Hyena were neighbors and he is also Hyena’s childhood bestfriend. Kara and Chan never got along. Kara always thought that Chan had a personal vendetta to tease Kara as much as he can. And as for Chan, the fact that someone other than him is getting close to his bestfriend didn’t sit well with him so he just thought he’d do something to scare off the new girl. Thing with Chan is, even though he had other close friends but he was the closest to Hyena because of spending a huge part of his life with her. He experienced most of his firsts with her and vice versa. Also being in different departments made him think that their friendship would fall apart as he had seen his other friends slowly get distant, to the point, they rarely talk or meet now. This kind of stuff scared Chan because he thought of losing friends as a segment of his life falling apart. 

Kara looked at her phone again to see only 5 minutes were left till the lecture started and she was basically losing her shit because she didn’t want to get embarrassed again in front of so many people. Thing with this professor was that he was very serious about teaching and just wanted the students to be attentive and actually gain something good out of this class instead of cramming. But Kara, clouded by the negative thoughts and absolutely regretting her decisions, put no heed to this. Only 2 minutes eft, and Chan was still not here but so was the professor. After 5 minutes, she saw him running towards her with her book in his hand. 

“Hi, sorry about being a bit late. I couldn’t find a spot to park and came as fast as I can” said Chan while breathing heavily. He was actually hoping to mend his relationship with Kara after having a really talk with Hyena about it. Maybe they could be a group of 3 and just enjoy their university life as it is. After all, Chan did believe that everything happens for a reason and maybe Kara coming into their life was a good thing? 

Kara was fuming when Chan finally approached her. She was sure that he did this just to spite her so she’d get embarrassed in front of everybody. Thinking this, she angrily said,  “Don’t ‘Hi’ me! I never thought you’d be so petty to come late just to get me embarrassed. You could’ve just told Hyena that you didn’t want to do this! Next time at least try to come up with a better excuse. Everyone knows that you travel by bus.”  

Chan was dumbstruck by what he heard. He thought that she’d be thanking him for bringing her book and they can finally start off with a fresh start but boy, was he wrong. He had recently bought a bike to travel around because his apartment was kind of far and traveling by bus just seemed like a hassle to him because it took a lot of time to reach his stop. He saw Kara angrily walk away towards her class. He thought maybe he had done something wrong but he just couldn’t understand what it was. Thinking this, he went to the cafeteria to meet his friends.

Kara enters the class and she is relieved to see that the professor hasn’t arrived yet. She sits in the second row, next to her other groupmate, Seungmin. He was a good friend of Kara and they got along pretty well. If anything, Seungmin and Hyena were the only good friends Kara had. She didn’t interact with anyone else enough to be good friends with anyone else. “Wow, its very rare to see the professor come late. I wonder what’s taking him so long?” Kara muttered while opening the book to the topic they were supposed to study today. 

“Yeah but look he just messaged in the group that he would schedule a makeup class for today later this week. Damn! he could’ve messaged earlier so i could sleep a few more hours. I’ve got a practice baseball match for the sports week next month.” Seungmin said sadly. Hearing this, Kara lost all her motivation to study. Could it get any worse?, she thought. 

“That’s stupid. Messaging us last minute that he isn’t going to come. Are we a joke to him?” Kara went on to rant about it. Seeing this, Seungmin smiled to himself. He just thought how cute Kara was being, ranting about all that stuff. He always thought that she is a nice person who thinks too much. He hoped that she’d lose that ‘I’m so done with everything’ look from her face. He always tried his best to cheer up Kara as much as he can. 

“I know its pretty frustrating but isn’t it good in a sense? We can spend some time together since I’ve got nothing else to do. Do you want to go to the cafe?” asked Seugmin hopefully. “Sure. I haven’t had my breakfast yet.” Kara replied, feeling a bit better that at least she wouldn’t have to spend all this free time alone. 

Walking towards the Cafeteria, she laughs at a dad joke Seungmin made when she realizes that she forgot to message Hyena about the book. She quickly messages Hyena and lets her know that she got the book. After a while, they reach the cafeteria and Kara can see from a distance that Chan sat there with his group of friends. She tries to sit as far as she can from their table only to end up finding the only spot lest was beside where Chan sat. 

“Oh god, its been so long since we spend time together. I’m glad professor didn’t come today!” Seungmin exclaimed. “You’re right! It has been long. I really miss the time where we used to chill around and stuff, yknow?” Kara replied.

“Yeah, those were the fun times but anyways I have this practice match later today. Do you want to come watch me play? I heard the buses will go later than usual today because of the upcoming sports week.” Seungmin asked. 

“Oh sure. My introverted self wouldn’t want to interact with anyone else so I’d rather watch you play than sit somewhere alone and have to make weird eye contacts with strangers.” Kara laughed. “That’s amazing then. I can walk you to your bus later as well since I’m planning to go to a gaming zone with Chan later. I’ll be leaving with him.” Seungmin said. “Oh, but the busses would’ve left by then. How do you plan to go to the gaming zone?” Kara asked curiously. She was hoping that it wasn’t what she thought it was. “Oh Hyena didn’t tell you? Chan recently bought a bike which is so cool at least we won’t have to wait for the bus.” Seungmin exclaimed happily. Whereas Kara wanted the ground to swallow her. She was so embarrassed over the fact that she didn’t give him time to explain his part of the story and she outright bashed him about something he wasn’t even wrong about. “That’s nice. And no, she didn’t tell me about it.” Kara said sadly once she realized that she was in the wrong. She made a mental note to apologize to Chan about what she said but deep down she still thought that maybe he did something wrong because in her head, it all seemed too good to be true. For Chan to go out of his way to give her book just didn’t seem true.

Time skip to the practice match

Kara sat in the bleachers waiting for the match to start. She saw Seungmin waving at her from afar and she waved back happily hoping for him to win when suddenly hears a familiar laugh from her right. She looks over and sees Chan screaming “OI FELIX! YOU GOT IT BRO!” to a blonde haired guy who looked embarrassed. Chan sat down next to Kara excitedly until he looked to his left to see Kara looking at him, annoyed by his screaming. Chan wanted to do it again just to annoy her but remembered that he had a talk with Hyena about how he will try to be nicer to Kara and decided not to do it and gave Kara an apologetic look. Seeing this, Kara feels bad and decides that this might be the right time to apologize to him. 

“Hey Chan, I wanted to apologize for being rude to you in the hallway. I didn’t know you had bought a bike until Seungmin told me about it.” Kara said apologetically. This warmed Chan’s heart and made him think that maybe Kara wasn’t as bad as he thought. “It’s okay! It is partly my fault for teasing you so much. Obviously you’d think that. But I really hope we can start over?” Chan asked hoping for her to give him a chance. “No, its my fault too for never making an effort to fix things between us but yes, I’d love to start over.” Kara replied happily. 

After this, they happily rooted for their friends to win and Chan even bought popcorn and drinks for the match. Kara was overwhelmed by the fact how genuine Chan was. He was a carefree guy who deeply cared for his friends. They later exchanged phone numbers because of how much fun they had.

Time skip to a few months later    

One Sunday night, Kara wakes up in the middle of the night with an ache in her heart. The same familiar ache that she got when she missed her old life and regrets making some decisions. She missed her family, her friends, her home and basically everything she could think of. She felt horrible over the fact how she has misjudged her decision of moving somewhere else would resolve her short term problems. Even though the past few months have been amazing, she still missed her hometown. The past few months, she’s been meeting Chan and Hyena everyday where they’d make short trips to the park or the pet cafe near their university or just hang out and chill in the campus somewhere. Her life did get a bit better than before but she just wasn’t in the right headspace at the moment. Kara decides to take a walk to get rid of the ache in her heart. She walks to the park near her apartment and buys chocolate milk on her way. When she reaches the park, she sits on a swing and thinks about how drastically her life changed just from that one decision. Oh, how she wished her life would go as she planned it to be.  

Chan was walking home after a long game of football with his friends. His apartment was close by so he just walked to the football ground. On his way, he passes the park that him, Hyena and Kara sometimes hang out in. He sees someone on the swing sipping a juice or something. He couldn’t see properly because of the dim lights. He thinks that it might be Kara because of the body structure but he wasn’t sure. So to confirm, he messages Kara where she is to which she replies that she was in the park to get some fresh air. Chan had noticed this before as well that Kara frequently goes to the park to get some “fresh air”. He goes over to the swings and sits beside her. Kara looks shocked to see him. She didn’t think he’d show up like that but she doesn’t say anything.

“What’s on your mind?” Chan asks. “It’s nothing. I just came out to drink chocolate milk.” Kara mutters sadly. Hearing this, Chan is sure that something isn’t right. “You know you can talk to me right? I don’t like seeing my friends sad. You can share it with me if you want to. I wont judge.” Chan says genuinely wanting her to open up so he can help her. Kara looks at his eyes and she realizes that he’s being genuine and she feels warmth in her heart knowing that someone is willing to spend their time in making her feel better. She ends up telling him everything. By the end of it, she’s crying and Chan hugs in hopes of calming her down. He knew that she was in pain and wanted to do something about it. “Come on, I have to show you something.” Chan says. Kara looks up at him confused as to why would he randomly say that but nonetheless, stands up and follows him to his bike. 

They travel for about 15 minutes when Chan suddenly stops and makes her close her eyes. He leads her to a high ground where they can see the whole city from above. They sit down near an edge and Kara is too mesmerized to say anything so Chan starts talking. “I know that it can be hard for you to adjust to a new environment. And that whatever you planned didn’t come true but this is life. Its unpredictable. We all have our ups and downs but you know what the best part about it is? Its that its never going to be the same. Things change. Its sad now for you but it wont be the same always. Sometimes you have to let go of the picture of what you thought life would be and learn to find joy in the story you’re living. So don’t worry, you’ve got me and I’ll always be there for you. You’re not alone. And like I always say “Don’t be sad, Bitches need cash”” 

Kara laughs at what he said but deep down what he said touched her heart. It all seemed so genuine and she started to realize that she had to look at life from a different perspective and maybe life wasn’t too bad. But one thing was for sure that the guy sitting beside her has her heart and she doesn’t regret moving here and meeting this pure soul.

[timeshuffles]

so yesterday i saw what i believe is a huge misinterpretation of ‘monster’ and specifically the reason elsa surrenders at the end, and i’m still annoyed about it, so to be 100% clear about my take on this: ‘monster’ is not about elsa surrendering because she thinks she’s a monster or because she’s intimidated by hans. ‘monster’ is not about elsa being a passive observer of her own story. ‘monster’ is not about an angry mob storming in to burn the helpless, frightened witch. 

‘monster’ is about elsa grappling with the very real consequences of her decision to run away from her coronation and turn her back on arendelle when it needed her most, which has resulted in a situation where lives are in danger and foreign usurpers have taken command over the crisis.

‘monster’ is about elsa coming to terms with the damage her father’s instructions and her rigid adherence to them has done. 

‘monster’ is about elsa weighing her desire to disappear into the wilderness where she feels safe against her sense of duty to her country, her people, & her sister, and deciding to walk the difficult, uncertain path of a queen instead of hiding herself away again or giving up and killing herself. 

‘monster’ is about elsa triumphing over her worst inclinations. 

from the moment she hurts anna as a child until the moment hans shows up at her ice palace with the mob, all of elsa’s actions are guided by anxiety, depression, and guilt. ‘monster’ is the turning point, the moment when elsa finally takes a clear look at herself & her past and consciously chooses to break free of those psychological chains and live.

and in order to do that, elsa has to surrender.

see, in the show, the way ‘monster’ is staged, elsa is alone on stage for the first half of the song. she can hear the mob approaching outside, and they are important only insofar as their arrival will force her to make a choice: she can’t continue to pace and fret and do nothing as she has since sending anna and kristoff away from the ice palace.

beyond that, elsa is not scared of or even particularly interested in the mob. her focus, instead, is on herself, her magic, and what she can do to put an end to the crisis she created when she lost control: 

It’s finally come, come to knock down my door. I can’t hide this time like I hid before. The storm is awake. The danger is real. My time’s running out, don’t feel, don’t feel. 

the method she has always used for controlling her magic no longer works, but that doesn’t stop her from instinctively falling into it even though she knows it’s not going to work.  (& one thing the musical does, which i like very much, is directly echo pieces of ‘monster’ during ‘colder by the minute’ to emphasize that these harmful thought patterns are still very much there in elsa’s mind even after she chooses to reject them, eg. “conceal, don’t feel, don’t feel, get back into the cage!” while also using the word monster in a different way so that it is less self-referential and more like elsa is treating her magic like an adversary she now needs to beat.)

Fear will be your enemy, and death its consequence. That’s what they once said to me, and it’s starting to make sense. All this pain, all this fear,  began because of me.

the assumption of both elsa and her parents throughout her life was that the prophecy pabbi delivered to her after saving anna’s life meant that other people’s fear of elsa and her magic would be the cause of elsa’s death. however, elsa is now beginning to interpret the warning differently: it is her own fear that is putting other people’s lives in danger, because she suppressed her magic out of fear, and then after losing control ran away out of fear, and that directly resulted in the devastating summer blizzard they’re trapped in now.

Is the thing they see the thing I have to be? A monster, were they right? Has the dark in me finally come to light? Am I a monster, full of rage? Nowhere to go but on a rampage? Or am I just a monster in a cage?

now... in the interpretation that i disagree with, the one that prompted this post, the writer of that took issue with the line “am i a monster, full of rage?” on the grounds that elsa is not an angry character and — yes. to an extent that’s true. but i think it’s very important to remember that the feeling that actually causes the blizzard, the actual trigger that makes elsa lose control over her powers at the coronation, isn’t fear. it’s anger. she loses her temper with anna and yells at her and it is that burst of, yes, rage that shatters her grip on her magic.

the whole storm is borne out of anger and only exacerbated by fear. elsa recognizes this. and this verse is her — somewhat poetic — way of interrogating those feelings. the blizzard began because she lost her temper for just one second; what if the reason she can’t get it back under control is it’s being fueled by all the pent-up frustration and anger she feels about her situation (forced into isolation and loneliness by dangerous magic she can’t control, with no end in sight)?   and what if the reason she can’t stop the blizzard is simply because she’s just too weak & ruled by her emotions? 

( i also think it’s an intentional parallel to ‘dangerous to dream’, in which elsa laments “i can’t be what you expect of me/and i’m not what i seem” and “i can’t show you i’m not as cold as i seem” — she longs to open up and be herself with both her subjects and especially her sister, whereas in ‘monster’ she confronts her fear that she is exactly who she now appears to be.)

at this point in the song, the mob interjects again, and elsa is visibly startled by their cries. which, if you ask me, is a very strong point of evidence in favor of ‘monster’ really not being about the mob; elsa is so deeply absorbed in her introspection that she loses track of the people storming into her home to kill her. anyway — the reminder of their imminent arrival pushes elsa out of this mournful speculation and into urgently evaluating her options. 

What do I do? No time for crying now. I started a storm, gotta stop it somehow. Do I keep on running? How far do I have to go? And would that take the storm away or only make it grow? I’m making my world colder— how long can it survive? Is everyone in danger as long as I’m alive?

knowing that the “conceal, don’t feel” method has been unsuccessful so far, she considers running even further away and hoping that the storm will follow her away from arendelle. but since that didn’t work last time, she also begins to consider that perhaps only her death will guarantee the safety of her people.

( i have seen a surprising amount of backlash against the suicide ideation threaded throughout ‘monster’ and i really do not understand where it comes from. no one argues that elsa isn’t depressed — because she is, and it’s perhaps even more overt in the musical than in the film. she never worked through the trauma of nearly killing her little sister when she was ten, she’s spent the last eleven years living in near-total isolation and silence, her country is locked in the grip of a magical winter she caused and has no clue how to stop, and just hours ago she nearly killed her sister again. in purely emotional terms, it would be a miracle if the thought of suicide didn’t cross her mind in this dark moment — and on top of that, she has an actual genuine reason to believe the world would be a better place without her in it, because her death might end the blizzard, & that kind of logic has incredible power on a mind that is already entrenched in habits of guilt and self-sacrifice. )

( i think it’s also worth noting that this is the second time in the show elsa asks herself “what do i do?” — the first is in ‘dangerous to dream,’ after she manages to get herself coronated without freezing her scepter: 

Father, I did it! Now what do I do? I can’t stop smiling, how strange— does this mean that things are different? Could they really change? And could I open up that door, and finally see you face to face? ...I guess a queen can change the rules, but not the reason they’re in place.

and once again, its use here feels like an intentional inverse of its use in ‘dangerous to dream,’ where instead of being so giddy with success and optimism that for a second she considers relaxing the strict rules she holds herself, now elsa is in a situation where the rules are crumbling all around her, she’s beginning to see that they never protected anyone in the first place, and she has no fucking clue what to do without them. )

anyway, this part of the song is when the mob breaks into her ice palace and finally enters the scene proper. and the physical staging of this moment is really important, because it’s what really drives home the balance of power here and what elsa is doing in this scene. because what’s the first thing does elsa when a mob of scared, angry, armed men break into her sanctuary? 

she turns her back on them.

like — they don’t even get to ENTER properly because she controls the space, and elsa barely even spares them a glance. and just as elsa denies them entry into her palace, she refuses to be distracted from her internal quandary.

Was I a monster from the start? How did I end up with this frozen heart? Bringing destruction to the stage, caught in a war that I never meant to wage. 

if anything, the arrival of the mob becomes, to her, a kind of symbol of how badly she has failed them. like — just imagine how desperate you’d have to be to storm the castle of somebody with powers like elsa’s in the middle of a blizzard so deadly cold that you know you will die if you stay in it. 

this verse is, i think, really elsa empathizing deeply with the mob and recognizing herself through their eyes — she waged war on her own people. it was an accident, yes, but that doesn’t end the devastation nor undo the destruction she has already caused. she’s not afraid of them, because they are completely at her mercy. and she’s not angry at them, because she understands the fear and pain fueling their anger. 

& most importantly, she still sees these people as her subjects, and that makes their safety her responsibility in her mind. which is what brings her to: 

Do I kill the monster?

ultimately it is the sight of the ordinary people she has failed — not anna, who has a personal history with her and thus trusts and loves her in a way no one else can, but regular subjects who are scared and hurting and confused and are literally just innocent bystanders in a disaster that grew out of a simple spat with her sister — that pushes elsa into actively contemplating suicide.

Father, you know what’s best for me. If I die, will they be free? Mother, what if after I’m gone the cold gets colder, and the storm rages on? ...No! I have to stay alive to fix what I’ve done, save the world from myself and bring back the sun.

this is the most important verse all of ‘monster’ and, i would argue, the entire show in terms of elsa’s character development. why? because it is a direct echo of the conversation young elsa has with her parents after almost she almost kills anna — even the melody is the same: 

AGNARR: We must keep her powers hidden from everyone, including Anna. 

IÐUNN: What?! No, they’re sisters, we can’t ask expect them to stay away from each other—

ELSA: Mother, it’s how it has to be. What’s best for her is best for me. Father, I’ll do what you say—

AGNARR: We’ll help you to control it. I know we’ll find a way.

IÐUNN: Only until we get more answers, and then

ALL: We’ll find our way back to be a family again...

as a child, elsa took her father’s advice and hid herself away, shut down all her emotions and metaphorically ends her life in order to keep her powers hidden (“i can’t laugh, i can’t cry, i can’t dream, i can’t live without it bursting out!”). in contrast, her mother rejects the idea that she must live in fear, objecting to keeping her isolated from anna and later trying to comfort her when she’s upset instead of scolding her to keep it hidden.

& here, as a woman facing down all the myriad ways that her father’s teachings have failed her and her country, elsa consciously chooses to follow her mother’s advice instead—embracing life, and trying to control her magic without sacrificing her life in both the literal and figurative sense. she chooses to seek out the answers her mother wanted, the better alternative that her parents went in search of when they left arendelle on the voyage that killed them. 

If I’m a monster, then it’s true there’s only one thing left for me to do, but before I fade to white, I’ll do all that I can to make things right. 

so this is her conclusion: if it’s true that she really cannot end the storm any other way — if she really can’t bring herself into balance, if she really can’t find a way to rule her emotions instead of being ruled by them — then, yes, she will kill herself as last-ditch effort to save her people. ultimately, she values their wellbeing above her own life. 

but.  she is not there yet. it’s kind of funny because, despite the fact that elsa is literally planning to kill herself if she can’t stop the storm any other way, this verse is, in contrast to the despairing tone of everything leading up to this verse, actually filled with hope and determination. this is elsa rejecting the idea that she’s a monster, rejecting the idea that the only way to keep people safe from her is to lock herself away and suppress all her feelings, rejecting the fear her father’s ideas represent. this is elsa saying “if my father was right about me, then i’ll die, but i don’t think he was right anymore.”

& having articulated this conclusion to herself, she finishes up the song by taking the first step in acting upon it. how?

by taking control of her magic and setting her people free. 

I cannot be a monster. I will not be a monster— not tonight!

the other big point of contention in posts i read yesterday that prompted this post is the idea that elsa surrendering to hans at this point makes her — weak? passive? a helpless object in her own story? but the thing is —

elsa still holds all the power here. after she lowers the ice, the mob readies their weapons and advances on her...

...but all she has to do to make them back off is tilt her hands at them.

a mere glance over her shoulder and they recoil. they don’t dare actually attack, and elsa holds them back like this for several seconds with nothing but the power of their own fear — and then she surrenders by saying, “I surrender, take me to Princess Anna.”

because the thing is. she doesn’t surrender because she thinks she deserves it. she doesn’t surrender out of guilt or because she believes she’s a monster. she surrenders, i think, for two reasons: 

first, these are her people and it is currently so cold that they will freeze to death if they stay in the mountains. she needs to get them to safety. surrendering and allowing them to escort her down the mountain, back to the comparative safety of arendelle (where there’s fire, food, blankets, and plenty of shelter), is the best way to accomplish that. 

and second, anna came after her with nothing but trust and love and unshakable belief that elsa could get the storm back under control. elsa drove her away out of fear, but now that she has consciously chosen to fight against her fears and try her best to end the storm, she wants to accept the help anna offered her — and given that catalyst for all of this was, as i said, elsa losing her temper with anna during an argument, it’s also not unreasonable for her to think that maybe resolving that argument with anna will help end the blizzard too. 

in any case, she now has a pressing need to get to anna as soon as possible, and every reason to think anna is already back in arendelle, and surrendering is, again, the best way she can think of to accomplish this. 

& also, i’ve pointed this out before, but elsa is still positioned as the one in charge after she surrenders. we see hans gesture for two guards to go up and put elsa in shackles, but when they actually go to do so, they wait for her consent before even attempting to actually put them on her. 

they don’t try to force the shackles onto her hands — they don’t even touch her. while hans and the duke of weselton (both foreigners with no legitimate authority in arendelle!) posture and bicker with each other about who is in charge, these guards—actual citizens of arendelle—WAIT for elsa to to grant them permission to put her in chains. she slowly holds up her hands, then nods, and only then do they actually move to restrain her. 

she is in charge. she is the one holding the cards throughout this scene. 

& throughout the rest of the act?   elsa is willing to play along with hans’s authority only for as long as his decisions do not interfere with hers. she wants to see anna, he wants to bring her to arendelle — that works for her. he says anna isn’t back yet and she’s to be imprisoned until anna returns — that’s fine, she’d be waiting in arendelle for anna anyway. but the second he gives an order that doesn’t align with her own goals, she breaks the shackles and leaves. 

( caissie also rolled her eyes at him after “i charge queen elsa with treason” when i saw the show again in july. it was delightful. )

ANYWAY. this got a hell of a lot longer than i intended because i have so many goddamn feelings about how important ‘monster’ is and how necessary it is for the development of elsa’s character to have her fight this vicious internal battle between her greatest strength (compassion) and her greatest weakness (“conceal don’t feel” & the ethos of self-sacrifice) and emerge triumphant after a lifetime of clinging to her father’s misguided lessons but — 

TL;DR ‘monster’ is elsa battling depression, anxiety, guilt, and self-loathing so she can whole-heartedly accept the responsibilities of rule, choose life, and finally turn away from “conceal, don’t feel;” her subsequent surrender is equal parts deep compassion for the mob and a calculated decision that allows her to accomplish all her goals in the safest and most efficient way possible based upon what she currently knows of the situation. also pacifism does not make a character helpless or weak and at no point does elsa lose or relinquish control over the mob situation thank you for coming to my TED talk. 

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder

TITLE: Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 20 / ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-dark midnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki falling in love with a Midgardian and his words to Thor about Jane during Dark World coming back to haunt him. “It would be a heartbeat. You would never be ready.”

RATING:  M for Mature

NOTES/WARNINGS: ~▪︎~FOR THE WHOLE STORY~▪︎~

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Check Masterlist. It's going to be a long read. I try to keep each chapter around 3,000 words.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

!-!TRIGGER WARNING(S)!-!

So many triggers, read ALL of them!

Swearing. Angst. Death. Depression. Violence. Self-harm. Regret. Carelessness for safety. Doubts. Torture. NSFW. Smut. Fluff. And Of Course- Mischief.

Summary: The new Avenger.

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Everyone was watching the news after Alicia's interview.

The news a background sound to Alicia as she looked out the window and sipped tea. Alicia thought she heard it all. 

Her bullies claiming to be her friends. 

Loki wasn't good for Alicia… She was too innocent for him.

Alicia glanced at the TV as they talked about Asgard, 18 people dead. Is she really cut out to be an Avenger? Alicia's words, 'the Avengers created their own mess before being heroes' the headline along the bottom.

She was able to drastically minimize casualties and handled the situation very well.

Someone Seriously reiterated how Loki got Alicia. Another jumped in, "Careful, Alicia just might give you that look when she's pissed off and give you a well thought out comment to get you away. Besides we know from past interviews, Loki said she had charm."

There was a laugh between the reporters as they agreed and then they went onto the weather, joking Thor was in a good mood today and the sun was expected to stay out.

Alicia glanced at Loki who was staring at his tea with his fingers tracing over the ridge and handle. Alicia smiled at him and pushed her unworried thoughts aside as she grabbed his restless hand. His eyes flickered to hers.

Alicia asked with a caring smile, "Worried about something?"

The annoying voice with the usual insult, "Loki is putting on a show, he is a full on diva."

Alicia glared, "One more word Tony and I'll tie your lungs together."

Tony gestured towards Alicia, "I'm really starting to question if Loki is the one to worry about."

Clint warned Tony, "she could make you suffer slowly. She learned a few things from her sister-who specializes in torture."

Alicia smiled as she lifted an eyebrow to challenge Tony.

"Ok Sour patch kid." Tony snapped his fingers and clapped loudly. "That's your hero name."

Loki suggested, "You could go with sour patch kid." Alicia glared at Loki. "Sweet and sour?" 

Rolled her eyes half heartedly as Alicia thought back to things she was called before. Mostly insults. Then one stuck. She looked at Loki, speaking loudly, "Peacekeeper."

Realization hit his face quickly, "you can't be serious. That is a direct challenge to Luit."

"He got the name from our fan base." Alicia sipped her tea and spoke nonchalantly, "Have you found those cuffs yet?"

Loki held her stare and then narrowed his eyes as he spoke, "We are not doing torture training."

"It's going to happen." Alicia played with the rim of her mug, "Marci is already working on them…" Alicia's eyes fell to her moving fingers, "and she's almost done." 

Alicia heard Loki stand abruptly and looked at him. His hand picked relentlessly at the other and his gorgeous emerald eyes were wet. "You have no idea what you are doing. No idea what that is going to do to you." His words were caring but growl was prominent, then the words were harsh and his voice was strangled. "Must you be so mindless when it comes to your well being? You need babysat every second because it's so hard -impossible, to keep you safe."

Alicia was startled when Loki hit the table at his last word. The words stung in her chest. Her eyes burned with tears. Ever since she..hurt herself Loki never really left her side. If he did, there was this look he sent any one in the room before he left. Alicia realized she was being baby sat. She was this burden everyone needed to watch constantly. 

The room was silent. Friction from the oxygen moving in the air could be heard. Maybe it was the loud thump in her ears as her heart constricted. Alicia rolled her lips into her mouth as she looked at the dents and splinters Loki's hands still rested in. Her chest stopped expanding and contracting so her breath would not hitch and shake. 

Alicia knew from a sideline experience Loki lashed out when hurt or pushed to far. Maybe she has been this huge stressor. There was this voice of reason, saying Loki cared but he was just overwhelmed. Alicia saw his frustration. He has been trying so hard to keep her safe but the future had different plans.

Alicia stood slowly, staring at his chest. Not able to make eye contact. She saw his hands clench tighter and she swallowed to force her heart back into her chest. Her fingers graze the table as she walked past him. Let her hand ghost over his, hesitated to give that reassuring squeeze. She whispered, "we need time to cool down." 

She walked out, using her vague memory of the new place to get her to her room. Tears blurred her sight but she wouldn't let them fall. Not until she locked the entrance door to her meeting room, the one to her bedroom and collapsed on the floor in heart wrenched cries.

Loki stood straight. Hands opened and rested on the table. He stared at indents then turned to go the way Alicia just walked. There was a familiar heavy hand on his shoulder. Loki dipped his shoulder and kept walking but the hand gripped so tight it was uncomfortable. Finally, a reasonable reaction for his outburst. 

"You both need space."

Loki turned and glared at Thor, so tempted to plunge something sharp into his brother. 

What would Alicia do? What would she say?

Loki locked his jaw and tensed his muscles so he was still. Closed his eyes and breathed. Thor was right. Loki had been suffocating their relationship because he was worried about her. There were no guarantees of safety, thus, his insistent watchful eyes. Loki got out of the grasp and went to the window. He picked at his hand in thought of how to make it up to Alicia. 

The picking got worse, especially as the reporters on another TV talk show discussed all their distaste for Loki and how Alicia was way too good for him. How dare Loki believe he could have someone so perfect. He had magic over her. Had her so deeply mind controlled she couldn't break free.

Were they right? Loki cast many illusions in his time of loneliness… could he have put her under some love spell? Loki's eyes closed as his jaw rolled then closed. Lips pressed together in a firm line. Had he messed up even the slightest thing when he put her to sleep? 

"We will go check on her." Jane spoke up.

Loki opened his eyes. The sun set Alicia never got to finish, was gone. The lights of the city below shining as the sky got darker. The stars were unable to be seen with the light pollution, but Loki had seen enough stars for the rest of his life. His eyes saw Natasha lead; Jane, Valkyrie, and Pepper. He knew they would care for her. 

His eyes fell to his hands that insisted on healing the small skin that was picked away.

Why must he heal so fast? It wasn't Seder. It was his damn blood, his heritage. It had always been... Odd. To heal so fast. He remembered his mother being so distraught at his arrival at the medical rooms for treatment. 

He had a wound that was brought on by fire serpents. The Hel fire would not heal on his skin and it hurt so terribly that he could not focus his Seder. His mother's grim face filled with expectations that he had not known yet. Now he understood why she insisted on her personal room and sent the others away. Even sent her own healer to the other side of the door.

Loki looked up and saw Thor talking with the others near the loud TV. Turning from the reflections Loki stepped with purpose to the real world.

"Thor, has Eir assigned a healer?"

Thor blinked and his eyebrows scrunched. "No. She hasn't, but she is gathering the best healers for Alicia to potentially be paired with. You know there is a system."

Loki growled, "I know."

Thor patted Loki's shoulder and promised Loki, "I will call her now to check on progress. Go relax before the party."

Loki nodded and swallowed at the disappointing promise.

Alicia's tears had poured out of her when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was Pepper. The others were behind looking down at her, making her feel; like a burden, weak, and pathetic. Natasha picked the locks when Alicia did not come to the door. They helped her onto the bed and Alicia quickly put up her brave and strong facade. She teased herself and said she was being absurd.

Jane leaned forward to be seen, once Alicia saw her she spoke. "You have been so stressed. We see it. You have worked yourself constantly and it's no wonder you need a break. Loki doesn't let you breathe."

Alicia wipes at tears, "he knows my worries of the untold future. Loki is tortured at the idea I will be harmed again. He was..terrified when he found me. The knowledge that could happen again is...unnerving."

Jane stared at Alicia with concerned eyes, speaking softly. "Thor is pushing the issue of getting you a healer. He called so many times Eir told him not to call and she will get a hold of him...but there is a process." 

Yes… the damn process. Driving everyone, especially Loki insane with the wait.

An Oracle focuses on the witch in question with the chosen healers in the room. The Oracle warns them all of challenges the witch will throw at them. Once the ones up to the challenges are left in the room they sign a contract. The vision that is the most vital is burned to the healers mind and they have to figure out how to heal themselves so they could heal the witch. There is a contract the healers go through so they can not give information concerning the worst vision.

Alicia looked at her hands, she was told by Eir it was going to take time to find her someone that was compatible. It was just a safety precaution to allow the healers mind to fix itself so they can heal the witch through anything. The part of the contract that kept the secrets, to let the future unfold naturally, is that they can not tell what the Oracle showed them. The Oracle's contract is a spell so they can not tell anyone the vision or they will die as their voice box swells and closes off any air.

Alicia swallowed, her hands shook a little and played with them. "Are the healers having a hard time? I mean, if I didn't already have the worst vision, yet...what's in the future?"

There was silence. A heavy question hanging by a frail tie.

Alicia looked at the clock as a servant came in after a quiet knock. Alicia stood and smiled, "I guess we have to get ready."

"If you need anything."

"Thank you Natasha. I will be alright." Alicia waved her hands towards the door, "go get ready. I will see you all at the party."

Alicia's servant did her hair in a half updo. Bangs framing her face with loose curls that cascaded to her waist. Her make up made her glow compared to the flushed and tear stained cheeks. Alicia's eyes were dark from despair but the eyeshadow of darker natural colors helped push her usual bright eyes to appear as normally displayed. 

"You really know how to pull someone together…"

The servant smiled into the mirror, "you are always put together when I arrive."

Alicia muttered a quiet thanks from embarrassment, she had not realized she spoke allowed. Once the look was complete, Alicia looked in the mirror. Loki's colors decorated her and she hoped he was alright. She wished they would be able to fix the tension that was left unattended.

Loki was in the party area, watching eagerly for Alicia to arrive.

"Do not worry Brother, she will be here. Jane swore Alicia was fine."

Loki didn't say anything but his eyes darted to the various entry points. Each face was not hers. He saw hundreds of faces but none of them held the beauty that adorned Alicia. Loki was turned and guided to the bar.

A relaxed, carefree voice reached his ears, "You are going to feel like an eternity passed if you keep waiting like that. You need a distraction."

"Valkyrie, I'm not drinking."

"Just a glass of wine. You will be relaxed." She poured Asgardian wine into a glass and she drank right from the bottle.

Loki wanted Alicia's touch but he could not have it. Loki took a drink, this would have to do till he had Alicia in his arms. No one comforted Loki. It was obvious Alicia was the favorite for everyone, that Loki was the one in the wrong… As usual. Everyone was listening to her about the damn torture training. No one understands the pain she would be in. His hand threatened to shatter the wine glass but he envisioned Alicia's hand in his. 

A woman sat close to Loki at the bar. She pointed over his shoulder and he saw Alica talking with a man. He moved to get up but the woman held his arm. He knew the woman was Asgardian just by her grip. Her voice was low as she states, "she seems to be having a great time without you." The woman's hand went to his chest and the slightest amount into the jacket where her fingers drew signs onto his taunt muscles. 

"We could have a good time too." Her smile and voice were heavily suggestive. The woman's eyes tried to unlock his mask but were unable to shine a light through like Alicia. Everything about Alicia was subtle, a respectful and unnoticeable display of her needs for him through a flirtatious side glance and shoulder raise. It was when Loki would smirk at her and pull her a little closer she would bite her lip.

The woman's tongue slid across her lips and said, "I heard of how rough you love to be. You can't do that with her." And that hand went lower in his jacket, "you can with me."

Loki glared and plucked the woman's hand from him, "I am not interested." Loki turned and did not walk with the gentleman prance as he started out with. Loki fully prepared to tear the man apart and his intentions must have been obvious because people were getting out of his way. 

Alicia's back was to him until she pushed the man away and snarled at the man. "Touch me again and I will cut your hands off finger by finger." And Alicia turned. She stumbled back as she almost collided with Loki. Anger on her face as she huffed. Then she looked shocked, relieved, and a little worried when she finally took in his face. "Loki."

Her anger fit with his colors, appropriate if taking in the meaning behind them. But her beauty brought life to his colors in a positive light.

"Love, are you alright?" It was many questions in one. Referring to before and now.

Her smile was warmer, "better now." Loki followed her glare then took her to the bar once she said, "let's get a drink." Alicia tugged on his hand, "he is not worth the attention." Eyes followed them to the bar, Loki got the same Midgardian wine as Alicia. She went to the deck outside. "I was trying to get to you but that idiot stopped me." She rolled her eyes in frustration as she took a rather large gulp of the wine. 

She never let him go. For their image first. The man's well being… was the reason Loki wanted released. Loki knew she realized his plans, thus not letting go. They had an image she was trying to maintain.

Alicia was staring towards the city, eyes following the cars on the streets below. The light from the obnoxious party illuminating her skin. She did not match her surroundings. She was too...godly for anything other than marble, gold, and with the view of a natural landscape. Loki longed to see her in the settings of his home.

In Asgard.

The wind blew hair in her face and Loki instantly used his hand to pin the offending obstruction away. Her eyes met his. Her makeup was in place, even though Loki would always insist she went without it.. He agreed, unspoken, that it did enhance her beauty. 

Her hair was blowing in the now gentle breeze of the warm summer night. Her neck wrapped in a simple choker and rope necklace that hung along her breasts that were enhanced by the tight top. Loose shoulder less straps that took his eyes back up to her collar bones, were those straps should have been designed to be. 

Her head leaned into his hand. Encouraging the touch. His eyes closed as he felt the tight feeling leave his chest.

Loki felt her gentle kiss on the palm and her warm breath as she spoke, "I love you. I appreciate your worry but…" her face turned so he could take in her every feature once he welcomed the current world. He was prepared to face his punishment. "I hope my healer is assigned soon. We haven't had very much time to ourselves recently and I feel...smothered."

That was it? That was his punishment? She desired space… "I apologize. It was not my intention."

Alicia smiled, "I know… You are worried." Her eyes looked all over his face and her hand went to his chest to rest there. Her breath was deep, "you are so handsome."

Loki smirked, "I'm handsome? Just solidifying this now?"

Alicia rolled her eyes, "I guess you are if your going to be so cocky about it."

Loki hummed and took her hand, "let me have a look at you." He spun her slowly.

The dress flared out after her waist, the slit was perfect for him, but not for public eyes. The dress lifted in the spin to show her heels that were just two inches and he couldn't help but be amused. She was clumsy in anything higher. Her shoes were a simple ankle strap, similar to their first date. Loki let her stop spinning and she gestured to herself, "am I to your satisfaction?" The dress wrapping around her at the stop and moved back and forth till it stilled.

Loki smiled and kissed her gently, "always." He grinned with teasing words on his tongue.

"You better think before your next words."

Loki chuckled and then inspected her first, "you didn't spill your wine. I'm impressed."

Alicia huffed and gave him a tap on the chest. "Forget the wine, I need it. That man got away with his hands, I'm impressed with myself for that."

Loki couldn't stop the laugh from escaping his throat, "You are starting to sound like me. Treasuring small accomplishments to everyday civilians."

"That guy pissed me off."

"Shall I take care of him?" Loki turned to go towards the bustling party and smiled when he felt a tug back. "I can't just let him go for distressing a fair maiden."

Alicia fanned herself as if she was a fair maiden that needed saving, "Oh, how very heroic of you." Alicia threw herself into his chest and blinked up at him, "my hero." 

Loki laughed but didn't miss the chance to play along, "do my heroic actions get a reward?"

Loki could tell she was trying very hard not to laugh and keep up their act, "you may grace these lonely lips with yours kind sir."

Loki smiled, "as you wish." He kissed her slowly, as if it was the tender first kiss from an actual hero.

Someone cleared their throat and Alice giggled as she pulled away to hide her face in his neck.

"Make out later. We got shots and dancing to do." Susan pulled Alicia to the bar as Alicia yelled at her not to have too much but Susan claimed she has not been out in a long time. The two of them did not hang out in a long time and needed to relax. Susan slapped the bar, "Two shots!"

"Susan, no." The shots came as Natasha smiled and told her to enjoy herself.

Susan held her shot glass out and said with a slur, "you are getting on the floor with me. Shot or not. I still can't believe you have magic. "

Alicia looked at Loki. He looked highly amused.

"He hasn't seen your club dance?" Susan slapped the bar urgently, "two more shots!"

"For your sake, I'll take the shots. This is it for both of us." And Alicia threw back her head and grimaced.

Susan winked at Loki, "You're going to love this!" Susan pulled Alicia to the dance floor quickly after Alicia gave Loki a long kiss and a heated stare. "Make eyes as you dance, give everyone something to watch."

There it was. The reason Alicia was so reserved. People to watch. 

Loki wondered if the alcohol would make her forget the image she showed. As soon as Susan was on the floor she instantly started to dance. Susan was dancing as if someone was grinding on her from behind… Loki watched as Alicia eased into it, so unnaturally nervous. She danced timidly at first and was barely able to keep her eyes on Loki.

Loki watched with interest. A few songs in and Alicia was mostly keeping eye contact with him. Taken by the alcohol as she swayed her hips and the rest of her body followed as if her hips were the puppet master. Everything flowing smoothly and looked as if her hips were the source of the energy. Her hands moved as if to showcase her hips then would go to the sides of her body and rolled so smoothly.

"She dances like a Sakarian seductress." Valkyrie said and then took large swallows of alcohol as she watched Alicia from around the bottle.

"A goddess of fertility." Thor replied and took a few gulps of his beer as Valkyrie pointed at his reply and held her drink up in cheers.

"Seductress and fertility? I already said no little Loki's." Tony pointed at Loki, "don't even think about it." And then Pepper tried to get Tony to end the party.

Loki didn't pay any attention to them. Alicia was dancing. So inviting. So.. sultry and seducing. Loki noticed he wasn't the only one swayed by her moves as he watched the same guy from before moving towards her. Loki was already preparing to get up.

Alicia felt hands on her hips from behind. She knew immediately Loki was not the one getting friendly with her. She pried the hands off her and turned with a glare. It was the man from before. Not able to keep his balance and a crooked grin. His heavy slur was further proof,  "Still too good for me? You with those secrets you kept..? I bet you keep secrets in bed… Loki is probably.."

Alicia ignored the man's rambling that never really ended in a complete thought. She stayed out of reach of the man and kept Susan behind her, "you are drunk. I suggest you leave."

Alicia heard Susan saying she would go get security.

"Does Loki overcompensate with his ego?"

Alicia laughed at the ridiculous question, "I assure you he doesn't need to overcompensate for anything."

"So screwing a whore like you is easy." He grabbed Alicia but she got out of his grasp and pushed him away. He stumbled into people, thus getting attention,  "Come on baby doll, Let me take a turn. I don't mind sloppy seconds."

Alicia saw movement, and Loki was coming towards them. She instantly felt sober, Alicia knew there would be trouble, more gossip for the media. "You need to go."

"Only if you come with me." The man's grin seemed to grow as Alicia pushed on Loki's chest, repeatedly telling him she was fine. "The whores beast has him tamed well. She must be a great fuck for him to not add her to the list of people he killed.. like he killed all the people of New yor-"

That was it. She had it with everyone. The whole world knew she was not defenseless now. She debated if she should keep pushing Loki away, let him go, and then the idea she has always wanted to do. Alicia said, "fuck it." She turned and knocked the guy on his ass as he sported one hell of a bloodied lip. Before Alicia could do anything else, Loki grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him. 

"No baby doll. You're the one who takes it rough…" Alicia tried to pry Loki's fingers from her that were holding tightly and might be bruising her. The man got up and stumbled forward, effectively falling on all fours. He gestured under him, "I'll show you a more gentle approach than the monster."

That made her stomach turn and her to see a pitiful excuse of a man. She was held onto by Loki as she tries once more to get to the man. "you want added to my list?"

Security finally pulls the man to his feet. Loki growled, "Get him out of here, or I'll let her go."

The man laughed and slurred more insults at them. Then he heaved up a foul amount of alcohol, causing everyone to groan and laugh. 

Alicia smirked as Susan stood in front of her, "just like old times."

Alicia groaned, "don't remind me."

Loki was pulling her away and he was smiling. "I think you can kiss your perfect role model image away after tonight, Darling." Loki hummed as he pulled Alicia outside for fresh air. He put her against the railing and trapped her with his body. He eyed her with amusement and desire. She stared back as her arms on his shoulders, moved fluid but not organized anymore. "Perhaps we can have fun in public now?"

Alicia's slur was becoming obvious, "maybe. Nothing too crazy. I don't want anyone thinking they can join." Her lips found his neck as she grumbled,  "I want you to myself.."

The working of her mouth was holding purpose as it worked against his skin. Loki chuckled slowly, "Are you possessive when intoxicated?" She sucked a little more causing Loki to teasingly purr, "keep that up and you'll leave a mark."

Alicia pulled back and eyed the area Loki felt a little more chilled from the crisp air. "That can work." And she grinned up to him. Her fingers pulled him by the neck as she kissed him with fever. Loki let her have a few seconds of fun before he pulled away from her and she whined his name. Loki picked up Alicia as she was losing the ability to stand.

He asked, “You had more than you should have, didn’t you?”

“Maybe a bit.” Alicia said pinching her fingers together.

Loki could tell she was in a very fuzzy state of mind. “Come on, Darling. Let's get this out of your system.”

“What are you going to do?"

Loki picked her up and carried her swiftly through the party. Alicia groaned, telling him not to move so fast. He took her to her own room. Through her personal living room set up for her personal meetings, then to her bedroom. Keeping in mind to move her slowly onto the bed. He removed her clothes slowly as well but left her underwear on for now.

Alicia groaned, “Loki I don’t think I can have sex.”

“I know, Love. That is not the plan tonight. We need to get that alcohol out of your stomach before it gets too far into your system.” Loki picked her up and took her to the bathroom. He put her in front of the toilet.

“Oh come on. Please don’t make me throw up in front of you.” She was starting to visibly wobble as the legal poison worked its way to her system.

Loki held her hair and pressed his hand to her stomach letting his seder work, “No other way Love.”

Alicia tried moving his hand away as she started to gag, “Loki. please don’t.”

It must have been 10 minutes of expelling the liquid. Loki gave her breaks to let her get her strength back. She groaned how she promised to never drink ever again. “Good Love. I really don’t want to do this again.” Then he let her finish expelling everything in her stomach.

“I feel so gross. I can’t believe you made me do that.” Alicia wiped at her face with a wet cloth Loki put in front of her. She stood and went to the sink. She brushed her teeth and ignored Loki, even though he was making himself busy getting a bath ready. She stood there and stared at the mirror where Loki stood now. His hands were running up and down her arms and sides. He unclasped her bra and helped it slide off her body. What was in the mirror was bare. His eyes meeting hers and stayed on hers even though she was exposed. Alicia turned and hugged him, “You really didn’t need to do that.”

Loki followed her gaze to the bath, “Satisfied in everything, Love. Anything you need. Anything you want will be yours.”

“What if I just want you?” There was still a slur...

Loki pried her hands from his erection, “You have me. But. Not tonight, not that way. You need rest. You are going to have a hellish morning."

[septic84]

Phil’s right to be Sad

Phil feels the need to withhold his true feelings from Dan to protect him. Dan wants none of that. 

A03

“I can't be depressed, that's Dan's thing.” I overheard Phil say one day to who I can only assume was his mum. It hurt me, deeply, but not for the reason you would think. When Phil says these types of things, I know it's never malicious, it is just a statement. The reason it hurts me is my mental health issues overshadow everything else. I wish Phil didn't feel that way, but I knew that was who he was. Kind, self-sacrificing, compassionate to his own detriment. I have noticed that Phil has been more irritable as of late, he isn't sleeping properly and is mentally foggy. I know these signs. I feel awful that Phil can't say what he means, or what he wants to me. He constantly is censoring himself due to the foreshadowing of the effect on me. He doesn't ever think of his own well-being. I feel guilty because of this and it has caused a crisis or two.

He is my best friend, trying to protect me. I wish he knew how I yearned for him to speak earnestly with me about these things. I know the reason he doesn't; he has convinced himself that my issues are worse and that by him saying anything even close to implying he was depressed, it would be almost as if it is an insult to my suffering. This, of course, was ridiculous to me. in reality, I think it would help me understand him more and maybe even myself if he shared these feelings when he had them. I often wonder if he is more quiet about it as everyone has coined Phil as a "ray of sunshine," which he typically is. Perhaps he is afraid of letting people down.

“No mum, I am fine. I just am tired.” I walked into the room nodding at Phil who gave me a weak smile. “I will, thanks. Bye.”

“Hey, Phil.”

“Hi.” He yawned and set his phone down. “Do you feel good enough to record some gaming videos?”

I cocked my eyebrow at him. “Do you?”

“What? Yeah. I'm fine.”

“Clearly.”

He scowled “What?”

“Phil,”

“Dan,”

I shook my head. “Be honest with me,” I sat next to him. “You look like you haven't slept properly in days.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I have been having issues, but I am fine. Nothing another cup of coffee won't fix.”

“Really, Phil?”

“Yes, really, Dan.” He was clearly getting annoyed.

“Go take a nap, Phil. After we can decide about filming, yeah?”

“No nap.”

“What are you, 5?”

“Shut up.” He snapped. “What are you, my mum?”

I tried not to smirk. “Want to or not, you need one, mate.” I stood up “You are really grouchy.”

“Well excuse me, Mr. Positive. Don't let my mood ruin your bleeding life.” Phil threw his hands up in the air and sighed. He stood up and looked at me as if he were going to say something else, instead he walked away, shaking his head and went to his room. I didn't know if he would sleep or not, but maybe he would rest.

I decided to cook because I wasn't sure what else I could do for him. I knew that he didn't want to open up to me, so I figured the next best thing was comfort food. Halfway through I heard Phil come into the kitchen. His hair was a mess so I knew he had at least laid down for a while.

“Less grumpy?” I asked hesitantly.

“Um, yeah. Sorry.”

I waved him off. “I am making dinner.”

“I see that it smells wonderful.”

“It should, it's your favorite.”

“You didn't need to do that Dan.” He said softly.

“Nope. Still did.”

“Well, then I am lucky. I was a jerk earlier.”

I didn't respond, I continued to cook in the tense atmosphere of the kitchen as Phil watched me. He seemed so heavy, it was almost palpable. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know how to be on this end of it. So many times I had put Phil through this and suddenly I was very aware of how difficult it must have been. Years and years of me refusing to tell him that I was struggling and him just watching me suffer. Did he feel like I felt now? Helpless, frustrated, fed up? I was too lost in my own head to notice Phil had left the kitchen until I went to ask him about dinner. Where had he gone? Turning off the stove I walked out into the lounge to find him, tears forming behind his eyes. I sighed.

“I know you're not okay, you know?” I sat next to him. “You don't have to talk about it, but I am here.”

“I'm still tired.” He choked out.

“Phil, please.”

He quickly blinked back the tears. “Please what?” he said, hoarsely.

“What do you need? Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jesus, Phil. Do you think I don't notice how upset you are? How exhausted?”

“I'm not-”

“Don't, Phil. You don't have to talk about it, but please don't lie to me.”

“It's not like you were always honest with me, Dan.”

“I know that,” I said softly. “Look where it led.”

He shook his head, “Fine, I'm sad.”

“Do you know why?” I remember when I started to open up to people about how I was feeling, a lot of the time they would ask why without even ascertaining the thought that I may not know.

He shrugged. “More than one reason.” He started to twist his hands together. “And no reasons at all. I don't know.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He looked at me, his cheeks flushed and the sclera of his eyes was bloodshot. It was clear he was desperately trying not to cry. “You don't need to deal with my shit, Dan.”

“I think I should get to make that decision, don't you? Let me take care of you as you do for me. It's okay.”

“I just want to be alone right now. Let me know when it's time to eat.” He stood stiffly and walked back into his room.

I clenched my teeth. Was I this frustrating? Had I been making Phil feel like this for years? I stood up and went back to the kitchen to finish dinner. He had asked to be alone, but I wanted nothing more than to force myself into his room and hug him. I wondered how many times he had thought the same thing when I was holed up in my room. How many times his heart hurt like this, just wanting to make me feel better?

When dinner was done, I knocked on his door after setting the table. “Dinner,” I said softly, returning to the kitchen. It took about five minutes, but when he came to the table I knew he had been crying.

“What would you like to drink?” I asked.

“I don't care.” I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. I sat down and started to eat one of the most uncomfortable meals we had ever eaten together. He said nothing, he didn't look at me, and he just picked at his plate.

“You don't have to eat it,” I said after I had watched him push the same forkful around his plate 5 times. “It's okay.” I made sure my tone was as even and unassuming as possible.

“I'm sorry, Dan.” He rubbed his face with his palms. “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“That's okay, though,” I encouraged. “Sometimes it's hard to sift through all the feelings and thoughts, yeah?”

He looked up at me, “I know it so much worse for you. I shouldn't complain.”

“What are you on about?” I was confused.

“Here I am, filled with self-pity and you, you have actual depression. I suppose I seem like an insensitive jerk.”

“Phil, are you insinuating that because I have depression that you can't be depressed?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“You know how ridiculous that is, right?”

“I don't have a diagnosed illness, Dan.”

“It doesn't matter, Phil. You still can be sad, or upset or whatever you're feeling.”

“I guess.”

“No “I guess” about it. You are too considerate of others for your own good.” I shook my head and said gently, “You have a right to be sad, Phil.”

“Thanks.” He didn't sound like he believed me.

“Why don't I make you a cup of hot chocolate and we can sit in the lounge and maybe watch something?”

He nodded resolutely and got up. I put away the food and made the drinks, retreating to my room briefly to retrieve the bag of marshmallows I had hidden from him. They were intended for a baking video, but it didn't matter. He needed them now.

“Here,”

A smile cracked his lips. “You hid these really well, I had no idea.”

“Oh, I know Phily. Enjoy them, friendo.”

“Can we just, like, maybe sit here? Not watch anything? Is that stupid?

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah,”

“It's not stupid,” I assured. So that's what we did, sat together sipping our drinks, being still and peaceful together. I understood this. Sometimes I didn't want any stimulation, but I didn't want to be alone, either. We sat for at least a half of an hour before Phil said.

“I don't want to trigger you.”

“How do you mean?”

“You have been feeling better lately. I would hate to ruin that for you.”

“Phil,” I patted his leg. “You know as well as I do, anything or nothing at all can trigger me, that isn't even the point I'm trying to make. It doesn't matter. It isn't important how this affects me right now.”

“It is, though.”

I felt my chest constrict with emotion. “You are my best friend. You are supposed to talk to me when you need too. I am okay right now, Phil. I am in a good place. Please talk to me.”

“Lately I just am so tired, so sad. I feel like my life is at a low point and I don't even know why.”

I nodded.

“So I feel like maybe I am depressed, but I don't know how I could be. Or maybe I am just sad for now. But I can't tell why. If I think really hard, I can come up with some things, but none of them seems enough to feel this, “ He stopped, “Whatever this is.”

“Lack of sleep can do that, too.”

“Yeah,”

“Too much idle time does too, for me anyway.” I took a deep breath. “Do you think you should see someone?”

He crinkled his nose. “No,”

“Phil,”

He held his hands up, “This isn't a pride thing, Dan. I really don't think I need a doctor.”

I nodded, “Okay.”

“I am just really confused.”

“That's okay. You don't need to try and figure it out now, or ever if you don't want. What do you need from me? What can I do for you?”

He smiled sadly, “Just this, here, right now.”

I nodded. “Don't ever sit alone with your demons because you are afraid to let them play with mine. I have mine on a leash now, I can deal with yours, okay?”

“I still, worry,”

“I know. That's okay. Let me worry about me for now, yeah? You worry about you.”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course.” I smiled at him widely

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

And that's how we spent the evening, only occasionally talking, slow and peaceful. I knew he still was concerned about me, but I guess that was out of my control. For now, I would just take care of Phil to ensure he knew he had the right to be sad.

[gratuitous-fiction]

Office AU - Part 1

Summary: AU narrative that takes place in an office environment. The main character is a mentally ill female who struggles to make it through each day and deal with her symptoms. Part 1 details her experiences with the illness, and how she comes to meet Loki on her lunch break.

Word Count: 1,738

Warnings: Mental illness, depression, anxiety, anger, etc. Potentially triggering.

A/N: This first part is a lot of exposition about the main character’s mental state. I promise it pays off in the end, and in subsequent parts.

Other parts of this story (as well as other stuff I’ve written) can be found here.

Taglist:  @1800-fight-me​ @asheslokisgirl143​ @sarahivi​ @namelesslosers​ @markusstraya​ @ablogoffanfics​ @onebloodypoet​

Getting through work the day after an episode was never an easy task.

Sometimes, she would call in sick or work from home if she simply could not face the day. But today, she had some things she needed to get done that would require her to go to the office. She did not relish the thought of dealing with that environment when she was in such a state. Too many people. Too much noise. Nowhere to hide.

As she parked her car in the office building’s lot, she could feel the urge to cry. No, she thought, I can’t cry now. Not now. I have to go to work. She felt completely drained of all energy and wondered how she was going to get through the whole day like this. I’ll need a cup of coffee, she thought. Maybe two.

It was a pretty standard winter morning. Snow was on the ground, fallen two nights before. The sun was out now, and the air was cold and brisk. She watched the breath flow from her mouth as she stepped out of her car and locked the door. There was a strong wind against her as she walked up to the building. She pulled her scarf up around her mouth and nose and felt tears forming in her eyes. Thank goodness it’s just from the wind.

She always stopped in at the office cafeteria first thing to get a cup of coffee. This morning, there seemed to be more people than usual in there. She tensed up as she walked by the others in line at the coffee station. She had to wait for two other ladies to finish pouring their coffee before she could get hers, and these two ladies were taking their sweet time, chit-chatting and moving slowly. She felt her hands clench into fists. What was it with people always wanting to chit-chat?

Finally, she was able to start pouring her coffee. Large hazelnut, with extra cream, no sugar. She took her coffee the same way her father did, which never failed to amuse her. It wasn’t the only way she was like her father.

The elevator was mercifully empty. There was not much she disliked more than having to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with others in a crowded elevator. Not today, thank goodness. She took a deep breath as the elevator rose floor by floor. She sipped her coffee and took in its warmth and bitter flavor which she loved so much, and savored being completely alone, even if it was very brief.

The elevator opened, and she reluctantly walked out and swiped her badge at her office door. She entered a large area full of cubicles, already bustling and humming with life.

“Good morning,” said a voice. She felt her body tense up as her brain frantically tried to determine who was speaking to her. Oh God, she thought, please don’t talk to me. Not now. Not today. She spotted the chubby man with sandy brown hair and glasses smiling at her.

“Good morning, Matt,” she said flatly. Thankfully, that was the end of the exchange. Matt went about his business and she made her way to her desk.

It was 11:00 by the time she finished her coffee, and she hadn’t done much work. It was almost impossible to keep her mind on what she needed to do. Her thoughts kept wandering, back to the day before and the meltdown. She couldn’t exactly remember what had caused it in the first place. All she remembered was the pain and fear, the screaming and crying and pounding on the walls and the police officer showing up at her door and the paramedics arriving soon after. They wanted to take her to the hospital, but she convinced them not to. After all, she had been in that situation so many times before and always got through it.

As she sat at her desk, the sounds came at her one by one. The click-click-click of fingers on keyboards. The girl with the annoying laugh. The guy who wouldn’t stop coughing. Various beeps and tweets from random cell phones. Brian in the next cubicle munching loudly on chips. Murmurs of individual voices rolled up into a larger, more looming hum. It all became too much for her. She could feel her heart start to pound inside her chest.

She got up from her desk and walked out of the room into the hallway. Out here, even more sounds flew at her. People talking on their phones. Laughing. So many voices. They were surrounding her, threatening to drill inside her head and eat away at her brain from the inside. She felt her throat start to tighten, her breathing speed up. She was suffocating in this sea of noise, and she had to get out.

She knew she couldn’t hide in the bathroom, because that place was always too crowded. Instead, she headed for the stairwell. At least there, she could hide from most of the people. She made her way down two flights, then when she felt she was far enough away from humanity, she sat down on the cold, gray stairs and leaned her head against the concrete wall.

That’s when the tears started. Her head filled with images of the day before. All the pain, all the grief, all the frustration came flooding back and overflowed through her eyes.

She couldn’t hold it back. The tears turned into heaving, shaking sobs. She pounded her fist against the wall, hoping that the physical pain in her hand might distract her from the searing agony inside her head.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?”

It felt like two hands were grabbing onto her throat and pulling hard. She tried to fight, but struggling against them only made them grab and pull harder. She gasped for breath as her head began to throb and her ears began to ring.

“Hello?”

She realized the voice was talking to her. She looked up, bleary-eyed, to find a stocky man in a security guard uniform standing over her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said in a raspy tone, “I’m fine.”

“Okay, just making sure,” said the security guard, and made his way further upstairs.

She inhaled deeply, her lungs filling completely. She held her breath for a couple of seconds, then exhaled. She looked around at the brightly-lit, pale walls. She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms, trying to make herself feel something, anything. Instead she just felt numb. Her face was wet with tears, and the congestion in her nose made her head ache. She wondered how long it would be before she could make herself get up and go back to work.

The numbness was a welcome respite from the hypersensitivity of yesterday’s episode. When the anxiety and panic hits, it’s like every nerve in her body is turned on High and receptive to every tiny nuance in sound, light, and smell. The muffled music coming from her neighbor’s apartment was like ten thousand blaring trumpets. That’s what had started the whole episode -- the music. She was just not in the mood to hear someone else’s music, she never is, so the mere presence of it made her explode with rage and fear. It felt as though her personal space was being violated, even though there wasn’t anyone else in her apartment.

She cried, she screamed, she pounded the walls, trying to get the noise to stop. Eventually, someone in the building called the police and so she had to explain herself through heaving sobs that the music was what was making her so upset. The police called for an ambulance, and the paramedic took her vitals and asked if she wanted to go to the emergency room. Luckily she was able to convince him that she didn’t need to go.

She had been to the hospital for episodes before, and it was always the same thing. They would give her a sedative of some sort and keep her for observation. Sometimes they would admit her to the psych ward for a week where she’d have her meds adjusted. That happened five times. It had gotten to the point that it was very easy to tell when she actually needed to go to the hospital. A standard panic or anxiety attack was not a good enough reason.

Somehow, she was able to get up from the stairs and go back to work and make it through until lunch time. Of course, she had to stop in the bathroom first before she returned to her desk to make sure the little bit of makeup she put on that morning hadn’t smeared into a hideous mess.

At lunch time, she made her way downstairs to the cafeteria, where she assembled her usual salad. She paid for it at the register and headed to the tables to sit down and eat. She always ate alone. The cafeteria was fairly crowded. She was able to find a place at a two-seat table in the corner. She sat down, put her purse on the table next to her, and started to eat.

A few minutes went by uneventfully, with her mindlessly munching away at the lettuce and cucumber with Ceasar dressing. People chatted around her, but she did not listen. She was in her own head, still trying to process the day before. So when a man approached her table, she took no notice. It wasn’t until he spoke to her that she came out of her haze.

“Excuse me,” said the man, “But there’s nowhere else to sit. Do you mind if I share your table?”

She looked up at him. He was exceedingly tall, with long, black hair. He was wearing a black suit, with a matching black tie. He looked a bit like what she thought the devil himself might look like if he walked the earth. But there was something about his piercing blue eyes and calm tone of voice that somehow made her feel strangely comfortable with his presence.

She didn’t really want to share her table, but it appeared she had no other choice, and there was something so intriguing about this man, so she agreed to let him sit.

“Thank you,” he said as he set his tray on the table and sat down. “My name is Loki. Loki Laufeyson. I work on the eleventh floor.”

[theliterateape]

A Conversation About Guns In Schools

by J. L. Thurston

I meet lots of interesting people. We all do. Even introverts have occasional conversations. The other day I met an older man, grandfatherly, who was and always had been a people-person. He chose to talk with me and I’m glad he did.

We were in the ER, in a patient room. His wife had tripped on the sidewalk and was awaiting stitches. He sat in a chair beside her bed, both of their faces turned upward and slightly to the side as they watched the miniature television screen mounted in the corner of the ceiling.

The news was going on about the latest shooting. You know the one.

“Can you believe all this?” the old man hissed.

His wife pursed her lips, as though able to taste the bitterness in the world, and gave a solemn nod of agreement.

Feeling the need to reciprocate in the spirit of socializing, I said, “It seems like there are more and more shootings these days.”

The old man looked right through me. He’d seen three times the years I had, he had wisdom I could only dream of.

“You think they should take away guns?” he asked me in that knowing voice teachers often use.

In my line of work, I know enough to bite my tongue when it comes to opinions. Especially on heated topics such as Trump, immigrants, and guns. If I said the wrong thing to a patient, they could report me and I could be reprimanded. It’s just so damn easy to offend people.

But there was something in this grandpa’s voice that made me think it was safe to express myself. His eyes glistened with real interest. I don’t know. I felt like I could talk to him, which was too rare of an occasion to let pass by.

“Honestly,” I began, hoping my next statement wouldn’t bite me on the ass. “Guns or no guns, if someone wants to kill people they will find a way.”

He gave a wry smile and nodded. My shoulders sagged in relief and there was a squirm of pride in my belly. I had won the approval of this nice, wise, old man.

But he wasn’t through with the conversation. “What do you think about people wanting to arm teachers?”

I actually hadn’t heard that one, yet. My first response was a bark of laughter. In my mind, I envisioned a teacher of my past packing heat. In seconds, this scenario played out in my head. Mrs. Schnell, my algebra teacher, strutting back and forth in front of the marker board with a Glock resting comfortably at her hip. She was a thin woman, bony, and always wore high-waisted pants with her shirts tucked in. In her youth she was very beautiful, and had retained beauty and health in her golden years. For pep rallies this woman would do the splits with the cheerleaders. I’m not making this up.

But there she was in my brain with a gun. I suppose she popped up foremost in my imagination because she was so sweet and fair and kind, and even funny, but math terrified me almost as much as a gun would.

It was a reasonable scenario that my brain formulated for me to ponder over. What did I think? What would it be like to have the stress of class and the knowledge that your teacher has the means to kill a rogue student in order to save us? Could she have pulled the trigger on one of us? If any of us had lost it and gone nuts, could she push away the motherly love she undoubtedly developed over the years of teaching the same kids? Even if it meant saving lives?

“I think it’s a little absurd,” I concluded. “But I can see why people want it to be an option.”

Not to name names, but I thought of another teacher of my past. This one wasn’t so kind. He had a short fuse and a rough life. He had hard opinions and grew easily frustrated when a student refused to bend to his will.

A friend of mine, Kayse, knew the Bible pretty well in those days. She made a comment in class that tattoos were against God, in the terms that He considered our body a temple and tattoos would be a form of desecration. This teacher didn’t like that kind of talk, even in this small town with nine churches. She ended up bringing a Bible to class just to show him she knew her references, not really in a pushy way but annoying nonetheless, and he became so angry he threw a chair against the wall.

What if he was armed? I’m sure he wouldn’t become enraged so badly that he’d shoot a kid. But… I actually wouldn’t put it passed him. He had a temper that would shame an Irishman. I witnessed this over a single Bible verse. How would he react when a boy threw a spitball at him? Or refused to stop Tweeting in class? What would he do to the kid from the rough family, who swore a lot and wasn’t afraid to yell at his teacher?

It’s horrible to think a teacher would gun down a student because the student was being a little shit. But in the heat of rage, people have been known to murder their own parents. I’m not saying it happens a lot, but I am saying that it does happen.

The old man broke up my thoughts with a story. “When I was a kid, we used to have Pest Contests. Do you know what they are?”

 At first, I thought he had said Piss Contests, but my ears caught up with my brain and I shook my head. “No, sir.”

A soft smile formed on his graying lips at the memory of his boyhood. I think he must have had a very happy childhood, judging from the serenity brightening his face. “A couple times a year we’d have these Pest Contests where all the boys could bring their rifles to school. Nearly all of us had our own rifles, and those who didn’t have ‘em would bring their daddy’s. At recess, we’d go out into the woods outside the school and we’d all shoot at birds and squirrels. We’d collect our kills and whoever had the fullest game bag would win the contest. So, imagine, a school where the lockers were wooden and didn’t even have doors on ‘em, and almost each and every one of ‘em containing a loaded rifle.

“Times were different, back then,” he continued, his eyes shadowing now as they gave a sad glance back to the television screen. “We didn’t think about killing each other. We even got whooped by our teachers and never for a second would I have raised violence toward them. It just wasn’t an idea rolling around in our heads. I suppose, there must have been Pest Contests somewhere else that ended in injury. Maybe one or two that ended in tragedy, I don’t know. You didn’t really hear about much back then if it wasn’t in the paper or on the radio. We weren’t really afraid of getting hurt like that.”

He had gone from the joyful carefree days of his boyhood to the dark and twisted present we live in. The change in his eyes nearly broke my heart.

“I have a stepson who’s a freshman.” I began a little story of my own. “He overheard another student threatening to bring a gun to school. That boy listed names of kids and teachers he wanted to shoot. My stepson was worried. He told his friend’s mom and they reported it to the police. I was at work at the time. When I heard that he had gone to the cops I was pretty mad. I kept thinking that my mother would have beat my ass if I’d pulled a stunt like that.

“But my stepson lives in a different time. His school is constantly locked up, there’s metal detectors at the doors, drug sniffing dogs get passed by the lockers. Schools get shot up frequently. He’s grown up in a world where being murdered in school is a very real possibility. Once I realized that, all my anger faded. Instead, I wanted to cry for him and for all the kids of this generation. I can’t imagine not feeling perfectly safe in the classroom. If a kid threatened to shoot up the school in my day we just called him a spaz and forgot about it. But not anymore.”

I took a breath. The old man was paying close attention. His eyes encouraged me to go on. “What I’m saying is, yeah, times are different, but the problem isn’t taking guns away or adding new ones. The problem is kids who are wounded so deeply their souls are fractured, and no one helps them. These kids get broken so badly that they give in to the call of violence. We live in a culture that considers therapy as shameful. We are embarrassed to seek mental help, and we are mostly blind to kids who need help with depression or anger. So, the bottom line isn’t guns. It’s failing to save the shooters before they become shooters.”

It was a daring statement to make while in a position that limits opinions. But this grandpa, in all his years of experience with joy and success, pain and lamentation, puffed out his chest and smiled approvingly.

[roycebrakcet-blog]

I’m a deeply unhappy person but I don’t know how to show it to anyone

I’m the lowest common denominator in every broken relationship in my life, so it must always be me at fault. My relationship with my mum was so poor I ran away, and I know it was because she was emotionally unavailable, drank too much, and whenever I tried to tell her something was wrong she never even tried to do anything to help me, but it’s my fault. My relationship with my dad fell apart and he physically hurt me and violently took my belongings and goaded me to kill myself before kicking me out, and I know it happened because I was already damaged goods and he’s traumatised too, but it’s my fault. Friends and lovers I either abandoned, or they had to abandon me, because I mistreated them having never known a healthy relationship in my life, but it’s my fault. Nobody else shares any of the blame, because it’s all my fault.

I know it doesn’t even work like that, but I don’t know how to apply it and believe it. I know my mum was fucked up by her mum and my birth dad, and that she should have sought help before it got to the point she couldn’t keep a home and her kids were suffering. I know my dad is traumatised too and that he was frustrated because even though he tried to help me he didn’t know how to fix me, and that some of what he did to me is still downright wrong. I know some people have hurt me and I’m allowed to feel that way, and I know some people tried to help me and realised they couldn’t because they had their own lives to work through. None of the reasons anything happened to me dictate blame on anyone. Life is just an indiscriminate bitch and all the intertwining factors happened to come down on me by chance. It could have been anyone.

I’m angry because I couldn’t protect my mum all those times Chris hit her. I’m angry that social services never put me and my siblings into care when I was living in a home where I saw him hit her so hard her cheek split open. I can still see the blood and the police lady when I think about it. I’m angry that mum ever kicked me after going through abuse herself, and I’m angry she lied to the school and said she never did when I came into the head teacher’s office sobbing over it, and I’m angry that they believed her when they knew there were already problems at home. I’m angry my dad ever raised a hand against me knowing I was already terrified and the only way I knew to express that was to lash out. I’m angry at myself for somehow letting that and everything else turn me into a rabid animal instead of an average child, but how was I supposed to know what a healthy relationship looked like when all I’d seen and experienced was abuse and neglect? Still I blame myself for hurting so many innocent people the way I never want anyone to be hurt.

I want to cry over everything I had to go through and everything I’ve lost but I don’t know how. The only time I cry is during counselling with Adrian, because then it’s okay, it’s his job to help me learn how to let myself feel again - but then even when I do cry, I dissociate so hard I lose chunks of time and forget the last ten minutes, half an hour, the entire session. Sometimes he asks how something feels for me in a physical sense, like where in myself I’m experiencing grief, and I don’t know how to answer. It’s like I’ve become so worthless to myself that there’s a permanent disconnect between my feeling and thinking mind. There’s something about it being too much pain and grief to bear, too.

The only thing I do really feel any more - not all the time, but a lot of it - is anger in varying degrees, like a knot in my chest and throat. I’m hostile and snippy with everyone, but I don’t want to turn into my birth dad, so I isolate myself and hide away. In college I go under the stairs, or behind the vending machines, or lock myself in a disabled stall. In my flat I ignore my phone. I can’t go to some of my classes because the people in them trigger rage so bad I’m afraid I might shout at or physically harm somebody. I hate it and I never, ever want to do those things or instil the kind of fear I felt when I was shouted at and hurt, because no matter how annoying anyone is being they’re still a person.

I stopped seeing all my friends bar one, who’s been through some shit too, and gets it when I’m all wrong in my head. Even though a lot of them are also depressed I just don’t feel like I belong with them, and some of them have said things to me which make me think they don’t really want me around. One of them made it very clear she despises me after I’d spent a year thinking we were good friends. I don’t want to be around them any more, I guess, because it hurts too much to feel so alone surrounded by people. It’s easier to feel alone when you are actually alone. I was always on the edges of their groups - being around them just makes me more acutely aware of the feeling that I’m a robot or an alien trying desperately to mimic standard human behaviour and go unnoticed, but failing on both counts. I was invited to a party tonight by my closest friend and some other people I know were meant to be going, but I just don’t belong in those big howling groups of people I only half know and don’t even halfway trust. It’s horrible and I just feel even more isolated and by the end of the night I always feel so distanced from everyone else I contemplate suicide, and usually end up cutting.

I’m angry at people who get to have nice, average, relatively happy lives. I’m jealous even of people who are depressed without having a rough past, who can just take a pill every day or go to the state school limited course of six counselling sessions and carry on functioning just fine. What did I do that they got the perfectly normal life nobody bats an eyelid at and I got the fucked up one that makes people treat me like a zoo exhibit when I share it? It doesn’t even work like that, there’s no reason for me to have been given this lot and for them to have been given another, but it’s hard to understand that there just isn’t any explanation. The universe doesn’t know what “fair” is, it doesn’t even know what “chance” is, it just exists around a set of mathematical principles we can’t even fully explain. We can’t explain it and it can’t explain us.

I want to feel the full spectrum of emotions like your average person does. I want to let myself love and trust somebody so I can be who I actually am around another human being again, even though every time I’ve tried that I’ve been hurt and hurt the other person. My closest friend, the person who gets me most out of everyone I’ve met in life, has only seen me cry once when she was with me immediately after a counselling session, and now I’m pushing her away and I don’t understand why. I guess I don’t want her to get any closer to me in case she realises I’m a monster and not a man, because then she’ll run and take another little piece of my soul I can’t replace with me, like I give away to everyone who’s ever mattered to me. I want to protect her and myself.

Staff in college have been speaking to the support team saying they’re worried about me, and they’ve been mentioning how I look physically unwell a lot of the time. I’m tired and drained and people say I look pale and I wring my hands. Most of all I’m tired. I want to sleep.

[claytonsarah1990]

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[cascadedkiwi]

A Peek in on My Darker Moods

This is an excerpt from my 2017 NaNoWriMo novel draft in which I basically managed to put into words what I’d been feeling (semi-depressive) beyond my extended writer’s block I’d been dealing with over the past couple years. This character, Shoshan, is not a writer, but an artist, but all the sentiments are from me as a writer. Not being able to write makes me feel like a failure, especially when it is ingrained in my very being as my only natural affinity.

“I don’t show this to Saffie or anyone for that matter,” Shoshan murmured, fully aware Maggie could hear him but not in the strength of mind to keep it locked inside like he usually did. “When I get like this it’s like… these moments when everything around me seems dull, like I just give up. Nothing’s worth trying anymore. Any and every little sound of normal life is annoying and I go from feeling dull to being annoyed and angry and then frustrated that I’m stuck in this loop inside my head that I can’t explain or share with anyone.” He sighed lifelessly. “Just hearing them moving around, going on with life normally makes me feels horribly annoyed and think thoughts like ‘Why can’t everyone just shut up? Why is life so loud when all I want is silence?’ I don’t want to cause any more trouble for Mom so I keep it to myself in my room – not that she would understand if I tried to share it with her. The way she powers through everything she’d probably just try to get me to do the same.” He lifted his hand and circled his index finger around and around as he mumbled on. “Enter that miserable cycle again of wanting to do something, having the idea in my head but just lacking the strength and motivation to actually get up and move a single muscle towards actually doing that thing. It makes me feel like a failure. Like, how am I going through life, through school, and all the other stuff I do when I can’t even escape my own thoughts?” Another audible breath streamed out of one his nostrils and he rubbed at the defective one. 

“Most times I sleep these no good feelings off but honestly, there’s no telling what triggers a mood. Sometimes, if there’s something I’ve been wanting to do, like a certain picture I feel like drawing, I’ll start, right? And it’ll be good for a while. Work on it at a steady pace every day. Then I get really busy and have awful time management and end up skipping a day. The next day I draw less lines. I’m distracted. Staring off somewhere or reading aimlessly when I could be drawing. This continues for a few more days before I buck myself up and surprise myself with finishing a whole section of the sketch in its entirety. I’m ecstatic. I feel accomplished.” He laughed at himself. “I even show Mom my little achievement. I think, ‘this could work. I could try this again tomorrow.’ And I do try. I try to replicate the same thing I did before with another section.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t. It was a one-hit wonder moment like they always are. I’m not consistent. With anything outside of required schoolwork, I’m less than sporadic in what I would consider successes. I mean, I can produce stuff that I’m happy with but it takes me forever and that makes me feel like I’m lying to myself, deceiving myself and those around me. Art is supposed to be my passion. I mean, no matter how long I end up not drawing or suffering from artist’s block – and not even true ‘I’ve got no ideas’ artist’s block. The artist’s block I have is just that I don’t sit down and draw even when I get an idea for something I think would be interesting. I don’t make the time. I know I have the time, mind you, but… somewhere inside of me is afraid of drawing becoming a chore to me, something I have to do every day because it’s a requirement. I don’t want drawing to just be about meeting deadlines and fulfilling requests in my future. I want to draw because it makes me happy, because I feel inspired and want to put that inspiration on paper, maybe even share it with people one day.”

Shoshan caught Maggie’s smile in the glance he threw her way and smiled in defeat. “You see it, too, right? How I get when I talk about drawing. I really enjoy it, I have a natural basic affinity for it. I’m no art genius or anything like that, but drawing is something that just comes out of me. I don’t do it on a schedule or even because I’m good at it. I draw because it’s something I can’t seem to get away from. The shapes are always up there, floating around in my mind, twirling and swirling together to form the next possible Cane Moss Sugar Sketch.” He blinked to tamper down the water he felt in his eyes. “It’s always like this,” he said, turning to her for the first time. “I just have to let time do its healing thing. The mood always passes. Even when it goes on for days, it doesn’t affect my obligations. I’m able to focus on classes and homework, but outside of that regimen I’m nearly lifeless. I basically become a hermit. I don’t go outside, I don’t talk to anyone unless they approach me first, I hardly come out of my room. What would start out as me recharging from being social would stretch into… “ He made a face, the muscles in his cheek pulling to one side. “…one week and then two of just not checking for anyone outside of my house. The only person I would really hear from is Sorrel because he knows how I get sometimes.” He huffed. “Says he’s just making sure I’m still alive outside of school.” A cracked smiled stretched his lips a bit. “I never really feel like answering his texts but for his sake I’d send something back. Otherwise he’d show up at the house which was a whole new demon to deal with.” While Sorrel accepted and understood that Shoshan experienced boughts of depression, Shoshan knew that Sorrel didn’t comprehend nearly how deeply those moods effected him, how those feelings of misery and loss stemmed from the deepest parts of his heart. Sorrel wasn’t the affectionate or sympathetic type, he usually just left Shoshan to himself when things weren’t 100% copacetic. He’d hang around in the vicinity, but never physically got close to Shoshan, instead milling about with Violet until he had to leave for a job. It wasn’t ideal, but Shoshan appreciated his effort. At least if one of these boughts did claim him one day he wouldn’t be alone long. That thought made him shiver. If anything did happen to him, he’d definitely want to Sorrel to be the one to find him, not his mother and definitely not Saffie. He could never dream to doing that to his little sister, his literal heartstring.

[judeblenews-blog]

An ode to Apple’s awful MacBook keyboard

Yes I am very late to this. But I am also very annoyed so I am adding my voice to the now sustained chorus of complaints about Apple’s redesigned Mac keyboard: How very much it sucks. Truly, madly, deeply. This is the keyboard that Apple “completely redesigned” in 2015, in its quest for size zero hardware, switching from a scissor mechanism for the keys to what it described then as the “new Apple-designed butterfly mechanism” — touting this as 40% thinner and 4x more stable. Reader, there is nothing remotely beautiful and butterfly-esque about the experience of depressing these keys. Scattershot staccato clattering, as your fingers are simultaneously sucked in and involuntarily hammer out a grapeshot of key strikes, is what actually happens. It’s brutalist and unforgiving. Most egregiously it’s not reliably functional. The redesigned mechanism has resulted in keys that not only feel different when pressed vs the prior MacBook keyboard — which was more spongey for sure but that meant keys were at reduced risk of generating accidental strikes vs their barely-there trigger-sensitive replacements (which feel like they have a 40% smaller margin for keystrike error) — but have also turned out to be fail prone, as particles of dust can find their way in between the keys, as dust is wont to do, and mess with the smooth functioning of key presses — requiring an official Apple repair. Yes, just a bit of dust! Move over ‘the princess and the pea’: Apple and the dust mote is here! ‘Just use it in a vacuum’ shouldn’t be an acceptable usability requirement for a very expensive laptop. Apple has also had to make these keyboards quieter. Because, as I say, the act of using the keyboard results in audible clackclackery. It’s like mobile phone keyclicks suddenly got dizzingly back in fashion. (Or, well, Apple designers got to overindulge their blue-sky thinking around the idea that ‘in space no one can hear you type’.) Several colleagues have garnered dagger glances and been told to dial it down at conferences on account of all the key clattering as they worked. Yet a keyboard is made for working. It’s a writing tool. Or it should be. Instead, Apple has made a keyboard for making audible typos. It’s shockingly bad. As design snafus go, this is up there with antenna-gate. Except actually it’s much worst. You can’t not ‘hold it in that way’. You can’t press keys on a keyboard radically differently. I guess you could type really slowly to try to avoid making all these high speed typos. But that would have an obvious impact on your ability to work by slowing down your ability to write. So, again, an abject mess. I’ve only had this Oath-issued 2017 MacBook Pro (in long-held-off exchange for my trusty MacBook Air, whose admittedly grimy and paint-worn keys were nonetheless 100% functional after years of writerly service) for about a month but the keys appear to have a will of their own, whipping themselves into a possessive frenzy almost every time they’re pressed, and spewing out all manner of odd typos, mis-strikes and mistakes. This demonic keyboard has summoned Siri unasked. (Thanks stupidly pointless Touch Bar!)  It has also somehow nearly delivered an ‘I’m not interested’ auto-response to a stranger who wrote me at length on LinkedIn to thoughtfully thank me for an earlier article. (Fortunately I didn’t have auto-send enabled so I could catch that unintended slapdown in the act before it was delivered. No thanks to the technologies involved.) At the same time Caps Lock routinely fails to engage when pressed, as if it’s practising for when it’ll be broken. It equally countlessly fails to disengage when re-pressed. ‘Craps Out Lock’ more like. I fear it’s beset by dust motes already. Which is hard to avoid because, y’know, everything in the world is made of dust. The keyboard also frustrates because of the jarring juxtaposition of having individual keys that depress too willingly, seeming to suck the typos from your fingers as letters get snatched out of sequence (and even whole words coaxed out of line), coupled with a backspace key that refuses to perform quickly enough (I’ve had to crank it right up to the very fastest setting) so it can’t gobble up the multiple erroneous strikes quickly enough to edit out all the BS the keyboard is continually spewing. The result? A laptop that’s lightning quick at creating a typo-ridden mess, and slow as hell to clean it up. In short, it’s a mess. A horrible mess that makes a mockery of the Apple catchphrase of yore (‘it just works’) by actively degrading the productivity of writing — interrupting your work with pointless sound and an alphabetic soup of fury. The redesigned keyboard has been denounced by Apple loyalists such as John Gruber — who in April called it “one of the biggest design screwups in Apple history“. He precision-hammered his point home with this second economical sentence: “Everyone who buys a MacBook depends upon the keyboard and this keyboard is undependable.” Though it was Casey Johnson, writing for The Outline, who raised the profile of the problem last year, kicking up a major stink over her MacBook keys acting up (or dead) after a brush with invisible dust. Since then keyboard-related problems have garnered Apple at least one class action lawsuit. Meanwhile, the company has responded to this hardware headache of its own design like the proverbial thief in the night, quietly fiddling with the internals when no one was looking. Most notably it slotted in a repair earlier this year, when it added a sort of silicon gum shield to wrap the offending butterfly mechanism, which is presumably supposed to prevent dust from wreaking its terribly quotidian havoc. (Though it’s no use to me, right here, right now, with my corporate provisioned 2017 MBP.) We know this thanks to the excellent work done by iFixit this summer, when it took apart one of Apple’s redesigned redesigned keyboards and found a thin rubberized film had been added under the keycaps. (Looking at this translucent addition, I am reminded of Alien designer HR Giger’s biomechanical concoctions. And of Ash’s robotic hard-on for poking around inside the disemboweled facehugger. But I digress.) Shamelessly Apple tried to sell this tweak to journalists as solely a fix for those noisy key clicks. iFixit was not at all convinced. “This flexible enclosure is quite obviously an ingress-proofing measure to cover up the mechanism from the daily onslaught of microscopic dust. Not — to our eyes — a silencing measure,” it wrote in July. “In fact, Apple has a patent for this exact tech designed to “prevent and/or alleviate contaminant ingress.” And the date on Apple’s ingress-proofing key-cap condom patent? September 8, 2016. Read that and weep, MacBook Pro second-half 2016, 2017 and first half 2018 owners. So if, like me, you’re saddled with a 2017 (or earlier) MBP there’s sweet F.A. you can do about this fatal design flaw in the core interfacing mechanism you must daily touch. Abstention is not an option. We must typo and wait for the inexorable, dust-based doom to strike the space bar or the ‘E’ key — which will then make the typing experience even more miserable (and require a trip to an Apple store to swaddle the misbehaving keys in rubber — leaving us computerless, most probably, in the meanwhile). There is an entire novel written without the letter E. I propose that Apple’s failed keyboard redesign be christened the ‘Gadsby‘ in its honor — because, ye gads, it’s awful. This is especially, especially frustrating because the MacBook Air keyboard was so very, very good. Not good — it was great. It was as close to typing perfection I’ve come across in a computer. And I’ve been typing on keyboards for a very long time. Why mess with such a good thing?! Marginally thinner than what was already exceptionally thin hardware is hardly something consumers clamour for. People are far more interested in having the thing they bought and/or use actually doing the job they need it for. And definitely not letting them down. (Or “defienmtely nort letting them down” as the keyboard just reworked the line. I really should have saved every typo and posted a mutant mirror text beneath this one, containing all the thousands of organic instances of ‘found poetry’ churned out by the keyboard’s inner life/poet/drunk.) If shaving 40% off the profile of the key mechanism transforms an incredible reliable keyboard into a dust-prone, typo-spewing monster that’s not progress; it’s folly of the highest order. Offering free repairs to affected users, as Apple finally did in June, doesn’t even begin to fix this fuck up. Not least because that’s only a fix for dust-based death; There isn’t a rubber film in the universe that could make typing on these keys a pleasing experience. What does it tell us when a company starts making the quality of its premium products worse? Especially a company famed for high-end design and high quality hardware? (Moreover, a company now worth a staggering $1tr+ in market capitalization?) It smacks of complacency, misaligned priorities and worrying blindspots — at the very least, if not a wider lack of perspective outside the donut-shaped mothership. (Perhaps there’s been a little too much gathering around indoors in Cupertino lately, and not enough looking out critically at a flaking user experience… ) Or else, well, it smacks of cynical profiteering. Clearly it’s not a good look. Apple’s reputation rests in large part on its hardware being perceived as reliable. On the famous Steve Jobs’ sales pitch that ‘it just works’. So Apple designing a keyboard that’s great at breaking for no reason at all and lighting fast at churning out typos is a truly epic fail. Of course consumer electronic designs won’t always work out. Some failure is to be expected — and will be understood. But what makes the keyboard situation so much worse is Apple’s failure to recognise and accept the problem so that it could promptly clean up the mess. Its apparent inability (for so long) to acknowledge there even was a problem is a particularly worrying sign. Having to sneak in a late fix because you didn’t have the courage to publicly admit you screwed up is not a good look for any company — let alone a company with such a long, rich and storied history as Apple. More cynical folks out there might whisper it’s design flaw by design; A strategic fault-line intended to push users towards an upgrade faster than they might have otherwise have unzipped their wallets. Though Apple offering free keyboard repairs (also, albeit, tardily) contradicts that conspiracy theory. Yet the notion of ‘built in obsolescence’ persists where consumer computing hardware is concerned, given how corporate profits do tend to be locked to upgrade cycles. In Apple’s case it’s an easy charge to level at the company given its business model is still, in very large part, driven by hardware sales. So Apple doing anything that risks encouraging consumers to feel it’s intentionally making its products worse is also folly of the highest order. Apple does have some active accusations to deal with on that front too. For example, a consumer group filed a complaint of planned obsolescence in France late last year — on account of Apple performance throttling older iPhones — something the company has faced multiple complaints over and some regulatory scrutiny. So again, it really needs to tread carefully. Tim Cook’s Apple cannot afford to be slipshod in its designs nor its communication. Jobs got more latitude on the latter front because he was such a charismatic persona. Cook is lots of good things but he’s not that; he’s closer to ‘safe pair of hands’ — so company comms should really reflect that. Apple may be richer than Croesus and king of the premium heap but it can’t risk tarnishing the brand. The mobile space is littered with the toppled monuments of past giants. And the markets where Apple plays are increasingly fiercely fought. Chinese device makers especially are building momentum with lower priced and highly capable consumer hardware. (Huawei displaced Apple in second place in the global smartphone rankings in Q2, for example). Apple’s rivals have mercilessly cloned its slender laptop designs and copypasted the look and feel of the iPhone. Reliability and usability are the bedrock of the price premium its brand commands, with privacy a more recent bolt-on. So failing on those fundamentals would be beyond foolish, with so many rivals now pushing cheaper priced yet very similarly packaged (and shiny) alternatives at consumers — which also often offer equal or even greater feature utility for less money (assuming you’re willing to compromise on privacy). When it comes to the Mac specifically, it clearly has not been Apple’s priority for a long time. The iPhone has been its star performer of the past decade, while growing its services business is the fresh focus for Cook. Yet when Cook’s Apple has paid a little attention to the Mac category it’s often been to fiddle unnecessarily — such as by clumsily reworking a great keyboard for purely cosmetic reasons, or to add a silly strip of touchscreen that’s at best distracting and (in my experience) just serves up even more unwanted keystrikes. So thrice blighted and the opposite of useful: A fiddly gimmick. This is worrying. Apple is a company founded with the word ‘Computer’ in its name. Computing is its DNA. And, even now, while smartphones and tablets are great for lots of things they are not great for sustained writing. For writing — and indeed working — at any length a laptop remains the perfect tool. There’s no touchscreen in the world that can beat a well-designed keyboard for speed, comfort and typing convenience. To a writer, using a great keyboard almost feels like flying. You wouldn’t have had to explain that to Jobs. He honed his Mac sales pitch to the point of poetry — famously dubbing the Mac a ‘bicycle for the mind’. Now, sadly, saddled with this flatfooted and frustratingly flawed mechanic, it’s like Apple shipped a bicycle with a pair of needles where the pedals should be. Not so much thinking different as failing to understand what the machine is for. Via: TechCrunch Read the full article