#he breathes and the social battery of everyone in the room hits numbers in the negatives

[philophobic-paracosm]

i tried

not awful for the first screenshot edit ive ever done ig

i had to SCOUR for a screenshot they'd fit into, considering if they were in the actual show, they'd have like 3 minutes of screentime

that's how unimportant they are they're literally the physical manifestation of a subplot lmao

if you saw me say Ripley was 8ft tall in the tags of another post do not listen to it i forgot 8ft is like absolutely massive lol they're barely taller than eda

imagine forgetting to check what the lineart thickness is for the actual show before drawing it sobs

im so glad i can draw their face without them looking like a horrible abomination now they used to look so crusty

DO NOT. bring leaks/spoilers into my vicinity i will fucking decimate you

[syntheticpoetry]

Constellations

Summary: When the text comes in from Tina, Kurt can hardly believe what he is reading. When Blaine doesn't respond to his messages he thinks his heart may actually stop beating. AO3 link || FFN Link

Author’s Note: I was watching Shooting Star and overcome with a million emotions, mostly having to do with the fact that we don't get ANY conversation or scene with the NYC gang during this insanely emotional episode. So this is my take on it. A little bit of canon, but a little divergence for the Klaine scene I desperately wanted to see as well as Kurt, Santana, and Rachel’s reactions. I promise there is a happy ending in this through the rollercoaster of emotions that is Blaine's mind during this absolutely horrifying ordeal. Big thanks to @roxymusicandlayers for beta reading this for me!

“And I am lost, so lost, but you’re the constellations that guide me.”

_________________________________________________________

“Alright guys, start texting and tweeting, whatever social media you use.  Let everyone know what’s going on here.  But don’t say where we are, shooters have smartphones too.” 

Blaine hears Mr. Schue’s urgent whisper as though he is underwater.  The words sound muffled and heavy with the depth of the room’s collective terror embedded into every upturned syllable.  Despite his best effort to keep the hysteria at bay, they know he is just as frightened as they are.  Blaine bites his lip and remains so still that every muscle starts to quiver, threatening to give way.  The burn feels familiar, like the ache he gets from lifting weights in the gym with Sam, and he pushes through the pain as though it is just one more rep away before they can finally rest.  

Any slight movement will betray his feigned composure and he knows the domino effect of his breakdown will begin.  Around him the gentle, frantic padding of fingers against glass echoes around the room like a discordant symphony of additional gunshots.  He knows they are not as loud as they actually sound in his head.  But the panic in his chest still swells.  He hugs his knees tighter.  The small movement is enough to send the first wave of tears down his cheeks.  He bites his lip harder and tries to focus on the pain of teeth against flesh instead. 

‘I should do what they’re doing.  Pick up your phone.  Keep it together.’

“Blaine, it’s okay.  It’s going to be okay,” Sam reaches a hand out and the touch of his fingers against Blaine’s forearm sends thunderbolts up his spine.  “Where’s your phone?” 

Blaine opens his mouth to speak and instead gasps loudly, the breath shuddering on the sharp intake of air.  He claps a hand over his mouth and squints his eyes shut as more tears come.  His mistake was moving at all.  Statues never cry.  He stretches out one leg and wrenches the phone from his pocket to see it at 1% battery.  With one hand pressed firmly against quivering lips, the muffled whisper comes convulsing out in staccato bursts.   “It’s— it’s almost— d-d—” 

He can’t bring himself to say the word dead.  As though breathing life into it will somehow fulfill some unspoken prophecy, and he is bound to doom them all by simply uttering it.  Sam squeezes his arm and whispers back, “Do you want to text anyone with my phone?” 

Blaine nods frantically when his phone screen finally turns to black.  He gingerly places it on the ground in what feels like slow motion, taking extreme care not to make a sound, and extends his hand out to Sam.  He thinks back to Mr. Schue’s garbled words and wonders if they really are underwater.  

“I can’t get in touch with my mom,” The subdued sound of Marley’s panicked sobbing ricochets off of the walls. “She won’t respond!  What if she— there’s no back way out of the kitchen!” 

While Kitty and Jacob whisper empty reassurances Blaine stares at Sam’s phone in his hand like it is a foreign object.  He knows what he is supposed to do with it, but the phone numbers in his mind are written in invisible ink.  

‘I can’t even remember my parents’ phone numbers.  Oh god, what if we die in here.  What if I never see them or Cooper or Kurt—”

A flash of hands clasped tight, buried deep into a mattress fills his vision.  The breathy whisper of his own name makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  His trembling thumbs begin to fly seamlessly over the keypad and he has never been so thankful for autocorrect before.  Just as he hits send the dull pounding sound of running footsteps in the hall crescendos until—

Rattle! Rattle! Rattle!

The jittering of the door handle makes them all collectively jump as though this is just another lesson in synchronisation for their next competition.  Blaine’s heart slithers its way into his throat, and he drops the phone.  It slides away from him and bumps into Sam’s ankle.  Sam’s leg jerks and sends it careening across the floor of the choir room where it settles underneath the piano.  The entire scene is something straight out of a shitty comedy movie that feels completely unbelievable, like the chances of something like this happening are one in a million.  The irony of the realm of impossibilies reaching its peak today is not lost on him.  The entire room stills.  Blaine wishes that stupid ticking of the metronome in the center of the room would. Just. Stop.  It feels like a countdown.  

Smash!

Blaine jumps again and presses his hand harder to his mouth to suppress the sound that begs for escape.  He hugs his knees closer to his chest in a one-armed embrace and tries to will the demon perched on his shoulder whispering unpleasantries to vanish.   The burn settles in again.  Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Artie struggling to sit himself up against the cabinets.  He wants to move, wants to help him; but when he tries to unhook his arm from his knees, nothing happens.  He continues spectating as Sam begins lifting Artie up by his shirt until he’s sitting comfortably upright.  Then he witnesses the moment of pure panic in his best friend’s eyes right before Sam hisses frantically to Mr. Schue, “Brittany doesn’t have her phone, she’s in the bathroom! She’s all alone!” 

___________________________________________________

“Oh honey, no goddamn way!” Kurt snatches the remote back from Rachel.  “Santana and I were here first, you don’t just get to come in and throw a hissy fit about having a bad day so you can put on whatever you want.  How do you know we didn’t have a bad day too?” 

Santana averts her attention from the television to watch them instead, positively beaming.  Their fights are honestly her favourite thing to watch.  Always far more entertaining than whatever trashy reality shows she and Kurt had been immersing themselves in lately.  Today it had been a marathon of the first season of Rock of Love. 

“Well, considering you’re both in the exact same spot I left you in this morning I seriously doubt it,” Rachel huffs loudly and sinks down into a creaky wicker chair, arms folded tightly across her chest.  Kurt rolls his eyes at her and changes the channel back before the gentle buzzing of his phone across the coffee table distracts him from Rachel’s moodiness. 

“Go make some popcorn and I’ll let you vent— oh,” Kurt stares down at his phone.  

“What?” Rachel lowers her arms, keeping them folded across her stomach still, and exchanges her scowl for curiosity. 

“Sam texted me, he usually never…” The rest of his sentence trails off once he opens the message, leaving them to stare.  He loosens his grip and drops his hands against his thighs, the phone resting precariously on his open palms.  After the fourth quick scan of the text the message still does not seem to sink in. 

Sam 12:36 p.m. I love you so much and I’m so sorry about everything that happened I’m so glad I got to see you at the wedding you’re amazing and deserve everything in the world I’m so proud of you don’t ever settle for anyone less than perfect because that’s exactly what you are 

‘This can’t be for me.’

“Kurt, what is it? What’s wrong?” Rachel leans over, her palms on her knees now, her brows furrowed in concern. 

“What’s Trouty mouth saying?” Santana snatches the phone from him.  He does not even protest her invasion of privacy, his brain is too busy slicing through the fog to decrypt the reasoning behind the message.  She frowns and looks between the screen and Kurt a few times.  “Did I miss the part when you and Sam got together? No way my gaydar is that far off.”

“There’s no way that’s for me.  He obviously meant to send it to someone else.  Do you think he meant it for Mercedes?” Kurt plucks the phone back from her hands to reread the message before typing out a reply. 

Kurt 12:44 p.m. I don’t think you meant this for me? 

“What did it say?” Rachel pipes up and cranes her neck to try to read over Kurt’s shoulder.  Kurt tilts the phone to show her.  “Ooooh, wait did something happen between them at the wedding? Wasn’t he there with Brittany then though?” Kurt shrugs and scrolls through his contacts until he lands on Mercedes’ name. 

Kurt 12:50 p.m. Okay maybe random question but is there something going on with you and Sam again? I got the weirdest message from him just now 

Mercedes 12:55 p.m. ???? What did he say? 

Kurt takes a screenshot of the message and forwards it to her. 

Mercedes 1:00 p.m. Omg nope nothing happened with us at the wedding.  Maybe he meant to send it to Brittany? Has he not replied? 

Kurt 1:02 p.m. Nope

Tina’s name flashes across the top of his screen in a drop down banner and he taps on it.  “Oh my god.”  The words come out small and frightened as he reads the message.  “Tina just said—”

“She just texted me too,” Santana replies in an eerily despondent voice that Kurt has never heard her speak in before.  It suddenly makes the situation feel ten times more real.  For once, she’s silent as she stares down at her own phone, frantically typing out a text.

“Me too,” Rachel whispers.  “Oh my god, do you think everyone is okay?” She stands and crosses the room, pacing by the window as she rereads the text over and over again.  “Kurt, have you heard from Blaine?”

‘Blaine.’

Kurt cannot find the words to respond to her as he taps on his favourites list.  Blaine’s name is still at the very top.  He had told himself he had never gotten the chance to adjust the list and remove him after their breakup.  Really, he never had the heart to erase his name.  The sight of it now makes his throat constrict.  He tries to speak but no sound comes out.  

“Brittany isn’t texting me back.  Neither is Sam,” Santana borders on hysterical as she grips her phone between her hands like it is her only lifeline.  Kurt mimics her action as he composes a text to Blaine. 

Kurt 1:10 p.m. Tina texted me are you ok

“Has anyone heard anything from anyone else?” Rachel asks.  Neither of them respond. 

Kurt cannot look away from Blaine’s name.  The feeling washes over him suddenly and intensely, dragging his logical mind into the riptide of superstitious terror as he recites the name silently like a mantra.  If he looks away, he might lose him forever.  It doesn’t make any sense to think that way.  He knows it.  But it provides some tiny semblance of comfort and control as he tethers himself to it and waits for a response.  Two long minutes pass by and still nothing comes. Tina’s name and phone number fills the screen, swallowing Blaine’s name, and he finally finds his voice, the words frantic and choppy as he taps multiple times to decline the call, “Someone call Tina, she’s calling me.  Someone call her so she stops calling me!” 

The sight of Blaine’s name again anchors him down once more and the rest becomes background noise. 

'Please be okay.  Please be okay.  I’m never saying goodbye to you, you idiot.  Just text me back.  Please.’

__________________________________________________________

“Mr. Schue, I have to get to her! I have to make sure she’s okay!” 

Blaine watches, horrorstuck, as Mr. Shue and coach Beiste struggle to restrain Sam.  He is thrashing wildly in their arms, his quivering voice crescendoing past the panicked whispers that everyone else has adapted.  It isn’t until coach Beiste whispers something in his ear that Blaine cannot hear, and Sam locks eyes with him that he finally settles down.  Blaine exhales sharply, lungs blazing and heart thudding at the base of his throat, and realizes he must have been holding his breath at some point.  Sam slinks back over to their corner and sits beside Artie, his head hanging down in defeat.  Blaine tries to parrot back the same empty promises Sam had whispered earlier, wants to tell him everything will be okay even though he is not quite sure if he believes it himself, but nothing comes out.  

“Maybe she’s with Tina,” Artie whispers hopefully to Sam.  “Maybe she isn’t alone.”

Blaine takes note of Artie’s lack of confidence and how he is careful not to speak in absolutes.  But maybe he is right.  He thinks about the word maybe in the context of his life.  Maybe Kurt did not want to admit how much their hookup at the wedding had meant.  Maybe he and Kurt really are back together.  Maybe Kurt still loves him.  Maybe he will see him again when this entire ordeal is finally over with.  ‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a pretty good word the more he thinks about it.  ‘Maybe’ feels like hope.  ‘Maybe’ feels like a second chance.  

The sound of a door opening breaks through Blaine’s inner dissection of the word, and he looks over just in time to see Mr. Schue skulking out of the door.  It reminds Blaine of one of Finn’s video games about spies and stealth.  Maybe they will get another chance to play it together after this.  He clings to that and tries to focus on the upcoming Friday night dinner with him, Burt and Carole as Marley’s sobbing continues to grow louder.  Her gasps for air further enforces his previous belief.  Maybe they really are underwater. 

It isn’t long before the choir room door opens again and a collection of cheerleaders rushes in followed by Mr. Schue.  Blaine watches Sam vault off of the cabinets like a spring loaded toy to pull Brittany into his arms.  She has never looked so terrified before.  But there is no sign of Tina amongst the red and white uniforms.  Blaine forgets about the maybe’s floating around his brain like buoys at sea and feels like he is drowning again.  He twists his head away and stares down pathetically at the blank screen of his cellphone, willing it to magically come alive.  

‘How could I have forgotten to charge it? I used to lecture Kurt about this all the time.’

Maybe it is a sign.  Maybe it is a metaphor of sorts.

He does not know when Artie began recording them with his phone, but the start of Marley’s hiccuped confession fills his lungs with water again.  “In the bottom of my desk drawer,” She breaks off to compose herself.  The volume of her crying sends off alarm bells in Blaine’s head and he tunes out the rest of her message.  He looks towards the hastily strewn barricade against the door.  Maybe it will prove to be sturdy, but it does not feel like enough.  The continued tapping of fingers against glass screens fills in the gaps of silence between the metronome and scattered crying when Artie pans the camera onto Blaine.  It feels like a slow dance towards a death sentence.  Maybe the rhythmic ticking really is a countdown. 

“Blaine, do you want to say anything to anyone?” 

He drops his face down into his knees.  Maybe he should take the opportunity to leave behind one tiny fragment of his life before he becomes another forgotten statistic.  But Artie has already redirected the phone towards Sam and Brittany when Blaine looks up again.  Maybe he has missed his chance.  ‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a cursed word now.  Like something sinister and evil and concrete.  Maybe he has inflated the word with too much hope causing some sort of rebound effect.  Maybe—

“All clear!” 

The words break through the hurricane in the choir room and suddenly everyone is getting to their feet except Blaine, who still feels sluggish and dazed.  Sam and Brittany approach him and hold out their hands.  He stares at their open palms, trembling and sweaty, and his body acts before his brain does to grasp them.  They lift him up like he is made of helium despite the lead shackles he envisions around his ankles.  He becomes aware of Sam’s arms around him and shakes away the anchors in his own arms to return the embrace.  The burn is still there, leaving his muscles fatigued and weak, but he cannot bring himself to let go now that he has latched on.  

“It’s okay, it’s okay.  See? We’re okay,” Sam whispers against his ear before Blaine realizes why he is taking such extra care to console him.  The sound of his own sobbing, punctuated by rattling intakes of air, reminds him why he tried to remain so still at the start of all of this.  He buries his face deep in Sam’s neck to muffle the sound and feels the addition of Brittany’s slender arms around both of them, leaving him sandwiched in between.  The shuffling sound of footsteps towards the door leads to the eventual end of the embrace and Sam jogs over to the piano, crouching down to retrieve his phone before they join hands and follow everyone else on the way to the parking lot.  

“Blaine, I have a charger in my car.” Sam says as he raises his phone to his ear.  Brittany slips her hand away from Blaine and he hears her whimpering Santana’s name before seeing she has also pulled out her phone.  Blaine laces his fingers with Sam and clings tightly as they weave their way through the crowd towards Sam’s car.  “Mom, hey I’m okay.  We’re okay.  We’re outside now— please don’t cry, I promise I’m okay.” 

When Sam finally pulls his hand free, Blaine thinks he might just float away.  It takes Sam only a few seconds to wrench open the car door and jam his key into the ignition.  “Blaine, here— Wait, Kurt’s calling my phone.  Mom, let me take this, and I’ll call you right back? Blaine’s phone died, he has no way to— yes, I’ll be right home as soon as I can.  I love you too.” 

Blaine’s fingers are numb by the time Sam has pressed the phone into his hand.  Kurt’s frantic, breathless voice breathes life into them, and he curls them tightly around the device just before it is about to fall.  “Sam! Brittany called Santana and said you guys made it out.  I can’t get in touch with Blaine, is he—”

“It’s me,” Blaine exhales and the volume of Kurt’s sob makes his knees shake.  He leans against the car door but slides down it as Kurt continues to cry loudly in his ear.  

“Why weren’t you answering me?” Kurt sputters out, his voice traversing the length of his entire vocal range like a warmup. 

“My phone died, that’s why I texted you with Sam’s—”

“You didn’t say it was you!” Kurt’s voice rises three octaves.  Blaine presses the phone closer to his ear like it will actually close any of the distance between them.  “I thought it was a mistake! I thought it was Sam! Why didn’t either of you get back to me on— Blaine, are you crying or laughing?” 

“Both, I think,” Blaine responds airily between watery laughter.  In the timespan of less than two hours he feels as though he has mastered every element associated with human emotion.  The fire in his lungs has been reduced to embers as Kurt’s voice continues to blanket him.  The laughter should feel inappropriate, but it feels like letting go.  It feels like a release.  He finally feels grounded.  “The stupid phone— it was insane— I dropped it and Sam kicked it under the piano— if you saw it— I’m sorry, I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing, but it just feels so good to hear your voice again.  I thought I was never going to hear it again or see you or—”

“Don’t you ever, ever, write a message to me like that again!” Kurt interrupts his rambling and suddenly the laughter becomes lodged in his throat.  Maybe he had been wrong to assume all of those ideas about them earlier.  Maybe Kurt’s next few words will feel like an actual gunshot wound.  

“Kurt, I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I told you I’m never saying goodbye to you,” Kurt parades through his apology, trying to sound bold and certain.  Blaine can see the hairline cracks in the foundation as Kurt wavers through the next command.  “Don’t you ever try to say goodbye to me like that again, do you understand me?” 

“Understood,” He replies with the remnants of his previous laughter, the solitary sound coming out strangled and relieved all at once.  “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“You’re sorry you—” The way he says it sends shivers down Blaine’s spine.  It is the same breathy exhale that had been reserved for their night in the hotel as their hands sank deeper and deeper into the mattress.  “Blaine, you must have been fucking terrified, how can you focus on me?” 

“Because I love you,” Blaine says simply.  For once there is no anxiety or fear to cage the confession.  It flies freely over the soundwaves and he does not worry about the reply because he already knows the response without Kurt having to say it.  But Kurt says it anyways. 

“I love you too.” 

‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a second chance again.  ‘Maybe’ feels like a promise. 

[usernameorwhatever]

stuff i guess

Crazy how one conversation can really change things. A week ago, Jim was hanging out with Anna without a care in the world. But now he found himself sitting on the couch alone, the tv just a black screen because he lacked the enthusiasm to even grab the remote and turn it on. His phone sat on a spare cushion next to him, and every so often it would vibrate with a text or notification which would in turn cause him to jump to retrieve it ... only to be slightly disappointed every time it was spam or someone he didn't really want to talk to, and then he'd toss it back aside again. Rinse and repeat.

At some point Dustin tried to start up a conversation, but it didn't really go well. Not that it was particularly unusual for Jim to go long periods of time without talking -- such was his curse, the ability to be both the life of the party and the loner in the corner content to sit with shades on and watch everyone else. Dustin eventually relented and left to go get lunch, and without much else going on, Jim found himself scrolling through his phone. First it was social media, but none of that was interesting and he always ended up on Anna’s Instagram. It always led back to her for some reason. Every so often he'd open their message thread in his texts to make sure he didn't miss anything from her, but of course she wasn't going to text him back. She might even have his number blocked. Nevertheless, Jim's thumbs would periodically type out a long message, read over it a few times ... then erase it all throw his phone back down.

What was this feeling? Hadn't he been the one to turn her down? So why was he so ... like, bummed? It didn't make any sense. He'd lost friends before, but not like this. It was like part of his soul just wasn't there anymore. Nothing was entertaining. Not even Fast and the Furious. Nothing felt fun when compared to how he felt when she was next to him doing these things, watching these things. Hot chocolate and the clicking clacking of puppy steps haunted him. The image of her in her stupid little yellow soccer shirt thing haunted him. All of the things he had been avoiding for the time he spent with her somehow found their way to him all at once. It felt ... like a breakup. But how could it be a breakup? They weren't together. He made sure of that. So he had no reason to stalk her social media, or wonder who she was talking to ... was she talking to anyone? Surely there was a swarm of guys just waiting for an opportunity to pounce on her. And he had no reason to be bothered by that.

But he was.

He paced the living room, walking back and forth like some kind of maniac, fists clenched, his mind racing with all the possibilities ... her, vulnerable because of him -- guys hitting on her, her biting her lip and smiling ... and ultimately, he could see the vision of her walking towards a locker room door while everyone was running around to get ready for Dynamite. Only it wasn't his name on the door and it wasn't him opening it to let her in and it wasn't him closing it behind her with the distinct click of a lock.

It was him, though, that was throwing the remote control across the room. It exploded in a mess of plastic and batteries just as Dustin opened the front door with a surprised, almost frightened look. Jim took a deep breath and reached up to run his hand through his hair. "So, uh ... I think I messed up." He said after a few moments of silence, and both men exchanged a long glance before turning their attention towards the broken remote.

[knjnvrland]

Prank Wars - ch. 6

> pairing | jungkook x reader

> word count | 4.5k

> genre | college!au, fluff, smut, angst

> warnings | swearing, some really vanilla sexual acts, fingering, unprotected sex.

> synopsis | College can be a stressful time in anyone’s life as it is, why don’t we throw a little prank war in the mix to make it harder?

> fic masterlist

> A/N | English is not my first language, I’m sorry for the eventual spelling mistake, please let me know if you find any!

CHAPTER 6 - No-Bra Girl

Your room was way too bright, did you forgot to close the windows the night before? You woke up annoyed, feeling like you could sleep for 5 more hours at least, but something inside you said you shouldn’t. You extended your arm to your bedside table to try and reach for your phone, but came up empty. Still dazed, you opened your eyes and took a look around: yup, the curtains were left wide open, and by how bright it was, even for a winter day, you could tell the sun has been up for a while. Alice was still asleep on her bed on the other side of the room, you noticed she had the patience of getting into her pijamas, while you only bothered to take off your jeans and bra and fell asleep wearing the same shirt you had on the night before. Oh! The night before! You knew you should’ve said no to the going out after Hoseok’s performance, but how could you say no to Jimin when he was so happy that he didn’t mess up the backup dancing? Hobi too, was so happy to finally deliver what he had been practicing the entire semester, you just had to go. But you surely didn’t need to drink as much as you did.

You got up with a groan and stretched your back, walking over to Alice’s bed to look for her purse. It was on the floor besides her, as always, and you checked it to see if she had your phone. When you realized it wasn’t there you decided to nudge her just to ask, you knew you needed it for something, you just couldn’t remember what now. Alice turned around, not yet awake, and you nudged her again.

“Hey, Al, do you have my phone?” You whispered, when she seemed more awake.

“Huh?” She opened one of her eyes and looked for your face.

“My phone. I can’t find it, do you have it?” Noticing the confused look in your friend’s face you continued “from last night, you must have took it when we got out”

“Have you checked my purse?” She opened her other eye and letted out a yawn.

You signaled ‘yes’ with your head “it's not there either”. Alice frowned and turned to pick up her stuff, looking once again.

“Then I don’t have it, love, you must have forgotten it at the bar, maybe check if one of the boys have it?” She took her own phone from under her pillow and gave it to you, and you dialed the first number you found: Yoongi’s, obviously.

It rang until it reached his voice mail, and the same happened with every single boy you called next. You began trying to call you own number, hoping whoever had it was a nice enough person to give it back, but with no luck still. You kept calling their numbers and after almost half an hour of it, Alice stopped you.

“They're probably passed out, your phone will appear eventually.” She took her own device back from you. “Maybe focus on studying?”

And that’s when it hit you: all your notes were on your phone. You kept them there so it was easier to study on the go, instead of taking notes in your computer like everyone else. And you had a final in two days and already lost half of all the braincells you could spare that morning in search of one of your stupid friends and brothers. And so the panic ensued. You started to hyperventilate immediately and could tell Alice noticed when her eyes grew twice as big as they usually were.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” She took your hands in hers, a method she learned would help someone to focus. It worked on you for a split second, but then you were back to panicking. There was no way you could have all the work done and all the notes taken again in time for the test, you’d fail and have to repeat the entirety of the class and then you’d mess up all your curriculum and have to postpone other classes to still maybe graduate on time and you knew you had to graduate on time otherwise there would be no way you could maintain yourself without your parent’s help and being the youngest you knew they were getting fed up with their children needing stuff all the time and- “Hey, y/n. Breathe.”

You took a deep breath on auto-pilot and finally focused on Alice on her knees in front of you. “All my notes are on my phone, I really need it today.”

“Ok, I’ll drive to Yoongi’s and see if he has it, I have a key to his place, I’m sure we can find it.” She stood up, and you realized she was already showered and dressed, probably doing it all while you called the guys non stop. “I'll come back as soon as possible, I’m taking my phone but keep your computer on so I can message you on facebook if I find out anything” she gave you a peck on the head and left without looking back.

You started to pace around the room, but finally you realized it was to no use and took your books to the living room, sitting on the floor by the coffee table to try and redo all your work, just in case your phone was lost forever.

Jungkook woke up earlier then he wished he did, but he was getting late on school work because of all the practices and end-of-year games he was playing, so he had to make the best out of his weekends. He had a test on Monday and although it wasn’t a final, yet, it still accounted for a good amount of his grade. He also needed to tidy up the place and get his laundry done. There were few things in life that Jungkook took as seriously as his laundry, he just couldn’t stand dirty clothes piling up and his worst nightmare came through when the washing machine in his building broke. Lucky for him, the dorms were closer than the boy’s place and Alice was nice enough to give him clearance to use the machines that were on the basement, and so he had been doing for a while.

He parked his car as close as he could to the entrance and noticed Alice’s wasn’t in it’s usual place. He went straight to the basement, taking his clothes with him in a white laundry sack. Getting there it wasn’t hard to spot the machine assigned to your floor. The building had three rooms per floor and a machine for each of them, with a couple baskets provided and a schedule on the wall. The time assigned for Alice and you was mornings, but you usually washed your clothes late night, after the other room had taken theirs out, so you wouldn’t have to wait there, just having to return the next morning to retrieve your clean itens. Jungkook didn’t knew this when he first started taking his clothes there, just assuming one of you was faster then him in the mornings. 

It was Alice that explained this habit of yours to him, and told him she usually just took your belongings out and left on the basket on top of the machine, so you’d just come and collect it later. He started to do the same and for the first couple of times it was all innocent, but he grew annoyed fairly quick and, just as a small social experiment, started to take an item of your clothing every time he found the washing machine filled with your stuff. It wasn’t supposed to go on for as long as it did, but you never noticed and so he kept going. It has been almost a month now, and he had already filled a drawer at his place with your stuff; mismatched socks, a few shirts, a pair of jeans he knew you liked and even a bra once, granted, but he only took it because the thought of you, at 21, still wearing bras with cute animal printed on them amused him to his core.

He did the same that day, picking up a grey sweater he had seen you wearing a lot lately and putting it inside his bag. He took out his phone to listen to some music while he waited, and realized he had a few missed calls from Alice, and a message on the group chat asking if anyone had seen your phone. He almost forgot about it this morning, but at the last second he remembered to take it with him to drop it off to you. He had done nothing bad to it, just took a couple of selfies so you’d remember who saved your ass when you retrieved it, and just before he could do anything else, another message popped up on the group chat.

Alice (yg gf): srsly guys, where are you?  Alice (yg gf): I’m @ Yoongi’s and he’s not here?? Alice (yg gf): Has anyone seen anyone? Alice (yg gf): Jungkook doesn’t seem to be home either??? Alice (yg gf): unless,,,, is he dead? Did any of you finally ended him? Alice (yg gf): (jk JK, ily) Alice (yg gf): aha jk jk, got it? I’m so funny lol

Jungkook chuckled to himself and began to type, but someone else was faster.

RM hyung: what got into you this morning? Alice (yg gf): Finally! Do you know where’s everybody? RM hyung: Nope RM hyung: Just got home, there’s no one here Alice (yg gf): wtf where’s everyone? Your sister’s freaking out RM hyung: ?? Alice (yg gf): she lost her phone Alice (yg gf): all of her notes were on it RM hyung: let me shower and I’ll send her what I have from last year Alice (yg gf): yeah do that Alice (yg gf): and pls let me know if you find anyone else Alice (yg gf): I’m going to Jin’s to see if there’s anyone there RM hyung: for sure RM hyung: ttyl

Jungkook locked his phone and took yours from his other pocket, climbing the stairs to your floor so he could return it to you. He only ringed the doorbell twice before you opened the door. Your hair was a mess and he could tell you still haven’t showered. You were wearing the same shirt as the night before and a pair of sweater pants, and the look you gave him when you opened the door warned him you were not in a good mood.

“Hey..?” He greeted you, uncertain.

“What do you want?” He widened his eyes at your rude response and you felt a bit bad and took a deep breath “I'm just having a terrible morning"

“Something related to this?” Jungkook lifted your phone so you could see it and you grabbed it immediately. It had run out of battery but it sure was yours. “You’re welcome."

“Oh my god I’ve been looking for this all morning” you stepped back inside, going to your room to retrieve your charger and turn your phone back on as soon as possible. “You have no idea the hell I’ve been in without it”

Jungkook followed you, closing the front door behind him. He took in the mess you made out of the living room. There was a cup of probably cold coffee staining the glass table and your books were open everywhere. Your laptop was also open but on the sofa, and he could see the messenger tab opened in Alice’s contact and way more blue messages then gray ones, so you must’ve been spamming her without a break ever since she left. There was a blanket on the floor, even though the heater was on a very high temperature, and he picked up a pink marker on his way to your room that he believed was in your hand just seconds before.

“Really why can’t you pick up your phone?” You plugged in your phone but it wouldn’t turn on just yet, so you were pacing around, picking up stuff and dropping it again, clearly anxious and trying to occupy your hands with something “I've been freaking out since I woke up, you could’ve at least texted Alice last night to tell her you had it. I have to tell her you’re here, she’s driving around town looking for any of you, really, what happened after we left for you all to disappear? Yoongi hates to sleep over anywhere that’s not his house, oh great, now I’m worried something bad happened to anyone else. But if it was serious we would know, right? I just really have to focus on the test I have monday, I can’t stress with anyone else’s business. That’s why I never had friends, they’re so much work! Now I have to worry about weather Jimin and Hobi and oh God even my brothers, I have no idea where they are either and I can’t even begin to-"

Jungkook couldn’t stand your pacing around anymore, and as much as he tried to grab your attention to explain, you never. stopped. talking. So he did the only thing he could think of that would surely shut you up: he kissed you. And you know what? You kissed him back. But only for a second before you pushed him away.

“What the fuck?” You were trying to catch your breath. If because of all the talking or the kiss not even you were sure, but Jungkook had this smug smile on his face and you just hated it.

“I couldn’t shut you up” He stated, like it was nothing.

“Never do that again! What if anyone find’s out oh no they already think there’s something weird between us now is not the time to-“… and he kissed you again. But now he had his hands on your waist, pulling you closer, and you took a little longer to react.

“Will you stop?” You pushed him away, confused about the whole situation.

“You were going to start spiraling again, I’m just doing preventive control”

“I'm not going to deal with this now” you turned around, searching your phone again, but it was still dead. You pretended to check the cord, that you knew for sure was just fine, but could still feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. “Stop looking at me.”

“I'm not.” Jungkook deviated way too fast, just giving you the confirmation that he really was watching.

“What are you still doing here, anyway?” You turned back at him and he had his hand on his back, scratching mindless, the motion lifted his shirt just enough for you to peek at his v line. He wasn’t looking at you, so he didn’t notice it, but when your eyes finally locked, you could see there was something there that was new.

“I don’t know, really. Waiting to see if I have to shut you up again…?” He gave you a boyish smile, and although you tried to remain annoyed, the corner’s of your mouth gave you away. “You liked it.” His smile grew.

“No I didn’t" you were quick to answer this time, trying to get out of your room and back to your studies, but Jungkook held your waist again, softer this time, and made you look at him.

“I can do it again” it was barely a whisper, but you were close enough that you understood it perfectly. You couldn’t deny that the kiss did indeed shut your mind up for a bit, as well as your mouth, and it would be nice to have the distraction. You stood on the tip of your toes and started getting closer to him. But you also had to study quite a lot that day, and Alice would be back any second now.

Jungkook noticed your uncertainty and, before he himself could think too much about this, he closed the distance between the two of you.

This kiss lasted longer, at first he was shy, but when you reciprocated, the both of you established a rhythm and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, to which you responded doing the same. He had one of his hands still on your waist and the other at the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You had both of yours on his chest, filling him up a little, you admitted. The first move came from you, lowering your fingers through his torso, stopping just at the hem of his shirt. He broke off the kiss and took a good look at your face. Your pupils had doubled in size and a silent question was asked. The answer was your lips back on his. There was anger in the touch, but also passion. He knew the best sex came from either of those scenarios, and the thought of having a bit of both excited him to no end. You motioned for him to take of his shirt and you separated a little for him to do so, finding each other again immediately after. You closed the door and took a few steps back, until you felt the edge of your bed behind your knees. The both of you found the mattress while breaking the kiss for just enough time so you could appreciate his nice physique. 

He started to lift off your shirt and you raised your arms to allow him. 

“Didn't pick you out as a no-bra girl” he breathed out, trying to mask how turned on he was at the sight of your exposed breasts. You rolled your eyes and pulled him back to you, scratching him on the back of the neck as a warning sign, but it had the opposite effect, as all it took from the boy over you was a moan. “I can play dirty too”.

Jungkook then bit on your lip while moving his hand all the way under you to grab your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. You jumped a little in surprise, but had no other reaction seeing as not a second later he grinded a bit on you. You opened your legs more as a reflex, letting him get comfortable between them. You started to move your hips a bit, trying to get in sync with him while still keeping the rhythm of the kiss. You could feel how hard he was getting and the sounds he made gave you all the clearance you needed to extend one hand between the two of you and start to draw the outline of his member on his pants. He groaned into the kiss and you could feel yourself getting wet because of the sound and the friction.

You started to kiss his neck and he freed one of his hands only to untie the knot on your sweater pants and make his way in between your legs, starting to move his fingers in circles over your panties. You could feel how hard he was and shoved him from over you so you could both get naked already, before any of you had the chance to second guess what you were doing. You never saw someone take off their pants as fast as Jungkook took his, but you were quick to follow.

Before he could get himself comfortable on top of you again, you signaled for him to lie down on your bed “I like to be on top”, his eyes widened not because he was surprised, honestly, he knew you were a control freak, but the time it took him to get comfortable was enough so he could get a good look at your body and damn, he was turned on. You started to kiss him again and he moved one of his hands to massage your clit in between the two of you.

“Don't you want a little bit more of foreplay?” He broke the kiss again to ask but your only answer was to motion on top of his hard member, silencing him immediately. He helped you get in position and soon enough you could feel him getting inside of you. It took you a moment to adjust to his size. It’s been a while since you last got laid and you admit you started to forget the feeling. “Is this okay?” Jungkook had his hand on your waist, waiting for you to move first, you could tell it was taking a tool on him, but his eyes showed nothing but concern. That is, until you started moving. He closed his eyes and threw his had back as you began to go up and down on him, slowly at first but in a nice rhythm.

He started to help you out a bit, guiding your waist with his hands, and you lowered yourself to kiss his exposed neck a bit more. The position gave you the extra friction you needed and you started to move faster. You bit his collar bones as he moaned, and you could feel his chest getting sweaty, but it didn’t bother you at all. He started to trust harder into you and you could feel yourself getting close to your climax, he grabbed the back of your neck pulling you closer so he could kiss you some more, and you could tell he was not far either, as his movements were starting to get sloppy. 

You were really almost there when a sound deviated your attention. On your bedside table your phone had just turned on, and an avalanche of notifications came through all at once. It served as a wake up call and before you could do anything else, you felt Jungkook coming undone under you. You lifted yourself from him and he tried to hug you to keep you close, but you were already getting up from the bed and looking for your clothes. You couldn’t see the expression on the boy’s face as you got dressed again, but confusion was a given. There were few moments in his life where Jungkook was left speechless, specially after having sex with a good looking girl, but you really threw him off. He didn’t know how to react at the sudden change of mood, and could just lay there, watching you get as far from him as possible. Was he that bad at sex? He was sure he wasn’t. Granted, this time wasn’t his best, but he could tell you were enjoying just a moment ago.

You walked to your phone to check what was on it once you were fully dressed again, and with you peripheral vision you could see Jungkook getting up to put on his clothes too. Aside from a few social media notifications, and a few messages from your classmates either asking you for your notes or sending you theirs, it wasn’t much. That is, until you saw a few texts from Alice.

Alice <3: ok asshole I know you have y/n’s phone Alice <3: i’m going home now to tell her Alice <3: and as much as it annoys me Alice <3: i don’t want you dead Alice <3: and you will be as soon as I tell her you have it Alice <3: so you should probably show up Alice <3: like really fast

“You have to go” you didn’t even look at Jungkook and you had no time to worry about hurting his feelings right now “Alice is coming”

“Oh shit, okay.” He only had his shirt left to put back and as he was doing it you got a final glance of his abs. Damn it y/n now was really not the time. “We should talk about this though” Did he catch you staring? From the smirk on his face, probably. But again: now was not the time.

“I was stressed, you were there, no big deal, we talked, now please go” you said while walking to your front door, with Jungkook trailing behind.

“No, I mean it” he was annoyed “I don’t want to make things weird” you took a deep breath with your back turned to him. You didn’t want things to get weird either, and you knew it was best if the two of you took a minute to talk about it, but the thought of Alice getting home and sensing something had happened was mortifying and you didn’t want to risk it.

“It's not weird” you turned to him then, but you didn’t sound convincing at all “really, we’re good, nothing changed, I still find you an asshole, but we’re friends, let’s stay friends, alright?” His lips were pressed together in a thin line and you could not guess what he was thinking at all, but he nodded his head and grabbed his bag he had left by your entrance door. You felt bad all over again so, just as he was leaving you grabbed the hem of his shirt and made him look back at you “we're okay, right?”

He took a second to answer “yeah, we’re okay.” He didn’t change his expression, but you could tell he was genuine, so you let go of him and he left. You closed the door, but only felt relieved once you heard the heavy door of the stairs closing behind him.

You probably stayed a second too long leaning on your door, collecting your thoughts, but your phone started ringing and you noticed it was Namjoon, probably receiving all your facebook messages at once and wondering if you were alive. You would worry about Jungkook some other time, you had a final to ace.

…But you should probably take a shower first and relieve the rest of your stress.

Jungkook got back to the laundry room to get his things, but he didn’t even remember getting there. He was the type of person that liked cuddling after sex, even if it was just a one night stand. He really wasn't used to being thrown out as fast as you did him, and he couldn’t tell if you were really okay or if you hated him. For fuck’s sake, you were his friend's sister, what kind of mess was he getting himself into? By the time he reached the machine, he had already convinced himself that your reaction, although annoying, rude and a little bit hurtful to his ego, was probably for the best. He was removing his clothes from the washing machine when he noticed yours, still on the basket he had put them in. It would probably be there for a while and you would probably forget about it until Alice finds it and brings it up to you. 

Without a second thought, he grabbed the basket and dumped all that was on it onto his bag with his stuff. He closed it with a bit of difficulty and got the hell out of there. Jungkook was no thief, he always intended to give you your clothes back, and that hasn’t changed. He was just thinking of a more creative way to do so, now.

>A/N | I have a really hard time writing fast/small smut scenes, sorry, it will get better in the future, promise. Let me know what you think, though! Also, if your name didn't show up in the taglist please message me, I'm afraid I might get lost in the notifications and forget to add someone. Have a nice day, wherever and whoever you are :)

TAGLIST |  @w1tchcraftt​ @girlwiththeglittereyeliner​ @teresaisla​ @nctssidehoe​  @kawaiimusiccollection​ @nininek12​ @livewittykid​ @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore​ @planhtarxhs​ 

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

[emba-93]

My Story pt. 1 and 2

So here is a little piece that I wrote after the second miscarriage. Reading it now is heartbreaking as I had no idea at that point how much much more was to come. I read this now almost from an outsider’s perspective as I was so full of hope and still had no grasp of the pain that was coming. Please be aware this will be huegely triggering to read and gets quite graphic in places. I’ve very much come to term with my issues towards recurrent miscarriage policies and why investigation has to wait until it’s happened more times.

“Miscarriage. Not a nice word is it? But that’s what it is. It’s not a *sympathetic face* LOSS. It’s not a stillbirth until you are 23 weeks pregnant. It’s a miscarriage. And thanks to hundreds of years of stigma surrounding people just absolutely do not talk about it. How can it be that something that affects 1 in 4 pregnancies is so socially avoided? I’d like to really drill down on the fact that it is 1 in 4 pregnancies. It’s not 1 in 4 attempts or even 1 in 4 women but 1 in 4 PREGNANCIES. That’s such a large proportion of people that go through this in their lifetime and yet how many people do you know that have had one? I personally have experienced 2 and on both occasions, there were at least 5 women in the same ward at the same time as me going through exactly the same thing. So why don’t we hear more about this life-changing event and why are women so afraid to speak about it?

My first miscarriage came in November 2018. I believed myself to be 12 weeks pregnant and we were just days away from the first scan. This pregnancy had not been planned but we were both over the moon and had already told our parents and a lot of our close friends as we already just so excited! Miscarriage wasn’t even something I’d thought about. Nobody talked about it. I didn’t believe I knew anyone who had gone through that and so all that was inside of me was excitement and nerves about a baby that I was sure would be with us in May. Three days before the scan I saw a small amount of blood when I had gone to the toilet. It was a tiny amount but it was there. I obviously Googled it and was filled with so many mixed messages. It was an ectopic pregnancy. It was a miscarriage. It was in an infection. I t was fine- just implantation bleeding. I then did the next best thing and asked my sister-in-law (a gynae nurse) what she thought it meant. Her advice was that it was probably nothing to worry about but I definitely go to a hospital to be sure. (In the months following this I did hear about a number of people who had experienced bleeding which had turned out to be nothing but I wasn’t one of the lucky ones)

That Monday morning we made the terrifying journey to the nearest hospital which I had never been to before. There are no words to describe that journey. I silently cried the whole way there, feeling sick to my stomach. I knew something wasn’t right. A few days earlier I had mentioned to my friend that I didn’t feel pregnant at all and it turns out I was right. We arrived at the hospital with all of those Google articles and explanations racing through my head, repeatedly telling ourselves and each other that it was fine and that we had nothing to worry about. The sonographer had that quiet sympathetic face that I have become so used to seeing now and as it was my first scan, he explained how he was sure everything would be fine but if he was to ‘go quiet’ it just meant he was concentrating. He went quiet. It felt like he was quiet for way too long and I began to cry. I knew it was over. He told us that he couldn’t see a 12 week foetus in there but we may have got our dates wrong (we hadn’t) and explained that he would need to do an internal examination to be sure. Hospitals have to have 2 sonographers present to confirm miscarriage and so then there were 2 of them staring at this screen whilst I had the probe inside of me searching for heartbeat that wasn’t there.

My husband told me some hours later that the foetus had only made it to 8 weeks. I don’t remember any of that. All I remember was crying in that dark room and then being at home an hour later in bed. The nurse explained everything to us apparently but I don’t remember anything she said. The thoughts you have in those first few hours just go round and round and they are so consuming that you don’t want to think about the next steps at all. You have to rely on someone else for that.  I had never experienced loss like this before but the feelings bubbling up inside of me were all hitting at once and it was too overwhelming. I sobbed for a good 24 hours before having to make a decision on what I was going to do next.  I felt huge waves of guilt: what had I done wrong? Maybe I’ve overworked myself? Were those shopping bags I carried too heavy? Had I stopped drinking alcohol too late? Had I eaten a bad egg? And how the hell did I not notice 4 weeks earlier when I had actually stopped being pregnant?! Then came the embarrassment: how do I tell everyone? Will they all think I’m a failure? Why has this only happened to me? Why does no one talk about this?

In those first few weeks after the miscarriage, I had the hardest physical time. I went for the tablets to help move things along a bit quicker but they didn’t work properly. I had no clue what I was doing and felt like I couldn’t speak to anyone about it because I didn’t know anyone who had gone through it. So I sat on my own in my house, slowly bleeding high volumes of blood for 2 weeks.  I was in complete agony, off my nut on codeine because I had no idea that this wasn’t normal! Eventually I thought it was all over. I went out for a drink with a couple of friends after weeks of not leaving the bathroom, let alone the house and apart from a few period-level pains, I felt back to normal. 2 days later the agony started up again. I decided to have a bath to soothe my back and try to relax and I had barely slept. The bath water turned bright red and I knew something was wrong. I screamed in pain and was just so confused at what was happening. I slowly got myself out of the bath and shuffled over to the toilet but even that metre distance was too far for me and suddenly blood was spilling out of me all over the bathroom floor. My phone was in the bathroom but only at 10% battery. In that moment I honestly thought I was going to die. Noone had prepared me for this.I managed to get my husband home from work with my phone battery’s dying breath but in the half hour waiting for him, I honestly thought I wouldn’t be conscious by the time he got home.

Men get so overlooked when talking about miscarriage. It’s just as much their loss and they have to grieve too. In my experience, he was so much more concerned that I was ok and making sure he was supporting me. In turn, I was constantly worried that he wasn’t getting his time to deal with it whilst looking after me.  I didn’t appreciate his level of burden until he was home and cleaning the bathroom and I watched him scoop the pregnancy tissue that I had just lost out of the bath. He just got on with it whilst I sobbed and watched him. At least, I thought, it was all over now and we could move on.

Following on from the bathroom trauma, I went back to work and felt fine for a week. But when the pains started to build back up 1 week later, I knew something wasn’t right. I returned to the depressing GAU unit where I had already been dealt one blow and didn’t fancy getting more bad news. I had another external and internal scan and was told that there was still a lot of pregnancy tissue left in there and there was a good chance it was causing an infection, hence the pain and the fact I was still bleeding nearly 1 month after the miscarriage. So there I was again: more tablets, more pain, more blood and more tears. This time I had the added excitement of antibiotics and anti-sickness tablets as this tissue that was left over was actually making me really sick. I just wanted it to be over. That day I spent 8 hours in the GAU.

Despite 3 weeks of pain, I had no idea that the real trauma hadn’t started yet. I had been so focused on the physical aspect of the miscarriage that I had no clue where the real pain was. This is the second important reason for talking about miscarriage. Once all of the pain and bleeding had cleared up, I had to deal with all of those questions that had run through my head initially. The biggest and scariest of these, of course, is ‘why am I the only one this is happening to?’ This question really needs to be split in half: why has this happened? And who else has it happened to? Both of these will be answered 10 times a day by the people around you: ‘it’s really common’ ‘I know loads of people who have had miscarriages’ ‘it’s nothing that you did wrong’ etc. Your friends are trying to help but it really doesn’t. Being told that it’s ‘really common’ isn’t helpful when you just have no evidence of that (I knew no one this happened to at this point). No-one talks about it which meant that both the emotional and physical pain was a complete surprise that there was no advice or true sympathy for. You get a lot of ‘my daughter had a miscarriage and went on to have a healthy baby a year later’ or ‘you’re only young, plenty more time for you yet!’ That’s great, but what about the baby I just lost?! It’s a grieving process. If you lost a grandparent, you wouldn’t say ‘it’s ok, I have 3 more!’

The biggest question for most women is WHY? Unfortunately, most of the time, they have no clue why you’ve miscarried. And this area of medical research is so incredibly underfunded that finding answers is just such an unlikely possibility. One thing I was told a lot was that ‘It just wasn’t meant to be’ which as you can imagine, is not what my scientific brain needed to hear. I wanted statistics and solutions and I just wanted them to look inside me and tell me where the problem was like some sort of uterus MOT. I also read quite a few times that a miscarriage was your body’s natural way of ending a pregnancy that would never have made it to term. And once again: OK BUT WHY?! Healthcare professionals obviously give us guidelines of ways to avoid miscarriage but they are things that we all give up anyway. These guidelines are things such as cutting down caffeine, avoiding alcohol and smoking completely, taking folic acid and obviously not taking recreational drugs. Most women do all of these things anyway so it’s not too helpful in most cases. As far as I know, after a miscarriage, you are unlikely to think ‘oh so that’s why I wasn’t supposed to smoke 20 fags a day’.  I know a lot of women also struggle with conflicting medical advice online vs. their midwife vs. friends’ personal experiences. Diet and exercise are a huge example of this. We know that you need to exercise and eat well when you’re pregnant. But also don’t START exercising if you didn’t pre-pregnancy and don’t go on a diet whilst pregnant either.  This leaves us lazy junk food eaters feeling like we’ve already harmed the baby before we’ve even got to 4 weeks. Going for a run will hurt the baby but so will not exercising?! Help!! Then there are the rumours you hear which just aren’t true. Having sex whilst pregnant is ok if you are comfortable doing so. Working long hours is ok too believe it or not, as long as you are eating, drinking and sleeping well alongside this.  Having a fright, experiencing stress or just feeling really sad also does not harm your baby. Again, if miscarriage was talked about more, then perhaps we would not be putting all of this blame on ourselves and others. Repeat after me: you did not cause this, I did not cause this.

In March 2019, I experienced my second miscarriage. I was so much more careful this time. I didn’t even so much as smell a glass of wine, I ran away from cigarette smoke like the plague, I ate at least 4 pieces of fruit a day. I was determined that I would not let it happen again. Again, no matter how many times you are told that it isn’t your fault, you will believe that it is in your power to control it. You will believe that if you miscarry, it’s because you stayed at work that extra hour or you lingered in the vape cloud a little bit too long outside that bar. Whatever your reason, you convince yourself it was you. You reach a point where you do not enjoy pregnancy. Which, to put it bluntly, is shit. With the first pregnancy, I was so happy, I enjoyed taking the vitamins, avoiding the nights out and even the nausea because I knew what it meant. But second time around, the excitement had faded and it was replaced with pure fear. I was terrified. We decided that this time we wouldn’t tell as many people other than those who needed to know or had guessed. I didn’t feel the secret bubbling up in me and the need to tell everyone I knew and worked with because I just knew how awful it was when you have to tell them the opposite news later on. Another thing we did differently was book an early scan privately because, no matter how much you beg, and despite the history of miscarriage, they just won’t scan you early on the NHS at all. So, £80 later, we were waiting to go into the room to be scanned in a private clinic. I wanted so much to be excited and I had been a lot more sick and hormonal this time around so I assumed this was a positive sign. I lay on the bed whilst the sonographer told me the spiel about ‘if I go quiet, it’s just because I’m concentrating’ I felt so overwhelmed and wanted to run out and cry. I couldn’t go through this again. Once again the sonographer went quiet and asked how pregnant I ‘thought I was’, and when my last period was. I knew there was something wrong again. She had found the foetus which as expected measured 8 weeks and 1 day. There was no heartbeat. I remember my reaction this time: one long wail/sob/cry. “Not again” I shouted at her. My husband held me there for what felt like forever whilst I sobbed into his chest.

The clinic referred us to the hospital but as it was a Sunday there were no sonographers there to do a second scan. I spoke to a gynae doctor who booked me in for an appointment 2 days later in the GAU. No chance of an earlier appointment due to backlog. So I began my 48 hours of sobbing, grieving and ultimately false hope. As I had to wait for the scan for so long, I had managed to convince myself that the first scan was wrong. 8 weeks and 1 day was exactly right which meant that my baby had died on the day of the scan. I reasoned that it was too much of a coincidence and that she was just a crap sonographer who couldn’t find a heartbeat. But her diagnosis was confirmed by the doctor at what had become my absolute nightmare hospital which I could now only associate with bad news. There was no heartbeat. 8 weeks. Again.

Based on the agony and length of what I had gone through less than 4 months earlier, I opted for surgery this time. And I was booked in for the next morning. It’s a day surgery so you sit in a waiting room full of people for a full day, waiting for it to be your turn. My husband wasn’t allowed to stay with me which is just as cruel as it sounds. I had never had surgery before so I was terrified and had to wait all alone for the procedure with no food or water for what ended up being 6 hours. There is little point going in to too much detail about the inadequacy of the nurses that day. But in summary, I was barked at several times and got zero sympathy for what I was going through, I was ‘misplaced’ twice, I was referred to by my middle name more than once and by a complete other name many more times, and the icing on the cake was the nurse asking me ‘do you think there could be any chance you are pregnant?’ By the time I got to surgery I was pretty scared, not only that they thought I was someone completely different, but that one of the ‘rare’ complications could be about to happen to me or that when I woke up, I would be completely alone.

Surgery went well and only resulted in a few days of pain afterwards. Which, compared to last time, was a huge relief. But when I woke up I was completely alone and they had lost the paperwork which allowed me to return to the recovery area and contact my husband. So I sat on my uncomfortable bed, with an extremely empty stomach, a woozy head and a massive sense of emptiness and just had to wait until I could finally go home and recover. The doctors signed me off work for a week this time to recover from surgery but with the pain dying down so quickly, I was left with a lot more time to dwell on my feelings and come to terms with the fact this had now happened to us twice. Now try and tell me there isn’t something wrong with me.

1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. And 1 in 100 women have 3 or more miscarriages in a row which they call recurrent miscarriages. On the NHS, your miscarriage will not be investigated and you will not receive any tests until you reach this stage. I’m sorry but this is bonkers. It is honestly cruel after a person has endured 2 miscarriages at 8 weeks to tell them that, despite a clear pattern, they still need to go through it 1 more time before it is looked into. Tommy’s, the charity, began research into miscarriage in 2016 as they agree that it’s not good enough. They believe that so many miscarriages have underlying causes that can be cured if more research is done into it. It’s not just about preventing the miscarriage either. I, for one, would find it so much easier to move on if I knew why it had happened to me. I can’t change the past but perhaps one day I can make peace with it.

SO now the healing process has to start again. It is not easy to write about what has happened to me. My experience, I know, is only a blip on what some women have endured. I would never claim to ‘understand’ another person’s pain or suffering.  I have to crack on with all of the pregnant women and babies in my life flourishing around me and hope that in the future, people will be educated properly on the frequency and effects of miscarriage. I have to be brave and talk about it so that when this lonely and terrifying experience happens to the next person, they will hopefully know it is normal, it is not their fault, and they are not alone”

So there it is. It was really hard to write, even harder to re-read several months later and a huge challenge to write. If this helps even one person, then it’s been worth posting.

[sherristockman]

Psychological Aftermath of Natural Disasters Dr. Mercola By Dr. Mercola With Texas, Florida and the Caribbean still reeling in the aftermath of hurricanes Harvey, Irma and Maria, the physical destruction is readily apparent. Less easily quantified is the effect of natural disasters like hurricanes on the human psyche. Not surprisingly, a study on the impact of Hurricane Sandy, which hit the East Coast of the U.S. in October 2012, revealed that experiencing personal and property damage during the storm increased the risk of long-term post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) symptoms.1 However, as the U.S. Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) points out, natural disasters affect mental health not just during the event but before and after as well. "The toll and trauma that stems from disasters can contribute to stress and anxiety, acute stress reaction and ability to self-regulate — and for some, posttraumatic stress disorder," they note.2 If it seems like natural disasters are becoming more frequent, it's not in your head. The number of events increased threefold from 1980-1989 to 2000-2009.3 This makes it more important than ever to be aware of the psychological toll that natural disasters exert, as well as ways to help circumvent it and heal from the trauma. Anyone Can Be Mentally Harmed by Natural Disaster, But Children May Be Most at Risk People may have a wide range of reactions to experiencing a natural disaster, from stress and fear to depression and feelings of insecurity. Among those with preexisting mental health problems, natural disaster is likely to make them worse. Meanwhile, some people who had no preexisting problems may develop mental issues after the storm. Baylor College of Medicine professor and executive vice chair for community psychiatry told MedicalXpress, however, that children in particular should be closely monitored following a natural disaster. "The way kids react in these situations is very different from adults," he said. "Families need to watch out for the warning signs that kids may not be coping well with the events they've experienced."4 Warning signs may include isolating themselves or hiding in rooms, changes in eating habits or having fewer social interactions. A child may also have trouble getting over the loss of a favorite item like a blanket or toy. Among school-age kids, meanwhile, the ramifications can extend into their ability to succeed in school, due to both practical considerations and psychological consequences. In 2008, for instance, research found exposure to Hurricane Katrina increased aggressive behavior in high school students via PTSD and poorly regulated emotion.5 The extent of PTSD and other mental health symptoms in youth exposed to traumatic events vary widely, however, with PTSD increasing in those exposed to both a hurricane and community violence and decreasing in those with more social support from their peers.6 Speaking with The Atlantic, Joy Osofsky, a professor of pediatrics and psychiatry at Louisiana State University, also noted that the severity of a natural disaster's impact on children is associated with the stability of their broader environment.7 In particular, lack of stability and family chaos may harm the child's academic performance,8 whereas getting back to a routine can be therapeutic. "For instance, children who may have had a close relative relocate following the storm, or whose families experienced outsized economic strain," The Atlantic reported, "were likely to show greater signs of stress than those who had more stability. In the midst of such upheaval, Osofsky said, schools had the opportunity to be a source of stability." Natural Disaster Coping Strategies One of the best ways to alleviate anxiety if a natural disaster is approaching is to be prepared. The Anxiety and Depression Association of America (ADAA) recommends creating a plan ahead of time,9 including knowing where you'll go if you need to evacuate and compiling a preparedness kit with basic supplies, such as nonperishable food, water, a flashlight, a battery-operated radio and extra batteries. In addition, stay informed on the latest weather updates and warnings to help you feel you have some control over the situation. At the same time, accept that you cannot control the path of the storm and can only take the best steps to be prepared and take precautionary measures based on the latest information. The American Psychological Association (APA) further recommends emotionally preparing for a hurricane by:10 Having a plan and implementing it Getting the facts to determine your risk so you can take reasonable actions Making connections with family members and friends as an additional source of support Staying healthy via proper diet, exercise and rest, as a healthy mind and body will help you to make the best decisions and better deal with any oncoming threat Maintaining a hopeful outlook to help you through the storm and its aftermath After a natural disaster strikes, many find that doing something constructive and positive helps them to cope. You may consider donating blood, volunteering or cleaning up brush in your area to give you a sense of purpose and hope. Many experts also recommend getting back to your normal routine as soon as possible, and avoiding exposure to news stories if they contribute to your stress and anxiety. Meanwhile, take care of your body — eat well, sleep and exercise — to keep up your physical and mental stamina.11 Use Relaxation Strategies to Keep Calm If you're riding out a storm or trying to calm yourself as a hurricane approaches, relaxation techniques can be invaluable, and simple strategies, like breath work, can actually increase your resilience to stress. In the Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, researchers reviewed data showing controlled breathing, or pranayama as it's known in the practice of yoga, may be beneficial in the treatment of depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder and for victims of mass disasters. "By inducing stress resilience, breath work enables us to rapidly and compassionately relieve many forms of suffering," the researchers concluded.12 One of the most effective breathing exercises to reduce stress and anxiety comes from the Buteyko Breathing Method, which involves making a conscious effort to breathe through your nose instead of your mouth. As such, it focuses on small breaths taken through your nose, as follows: Take a small breath into your nose, followed by a small breath out Then hold your nose for five seconds in order to hold your breath, and then release your nose to resume breathing Breathe normally for 10 seconds Repeat the sequence Other methods to help you invoke your body's relaxation response and counter the effects of stress include meditation, guided imagery and the Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT). Research has shown that EFT significantly increases positive emotions, such as hope and enjoyment, and decreases negative emotional states, including anxiety.13 EFT is particularly effective for treating stress and anxiety because it specifically targets your amygdala and hippocampus, which are the parts of your brain that help you decide whether or not something is a threat. You can watch a demonstration of how to use EFT in the video below. Manage Your Stress Before, During and After the Storm Stress due to a natural disaster can be long-lasting, but your resiliency to the stress can make all the difference in how well you're able to cope and how quickly you're able to bounce back. For starters, choose healthy foods known to support a positive mood. Among them: Green leafy vegetables Organic, free-range turkey Fermented foods Wild-caught Alaskan salmon, sardines and anchovies Blueberries Dark chocolate, in moderation Avocado A daily dose of sunshine may also help to stabilize your mood. Serotonin, the brain hormone associated with mood elevation, rises with exposure to bright light and falls with decreased sun exposure. In 2006, scientists evaluated the effects of vitamin D on the mental health of 80 elderly patients and found those with the lowest levels of vitamin D were 11 times more prone to be depressed than those who received healthy doses.14 Low vitamin D levels are also associated with an increased risk of panic disorders.15 If you find your mind is running wild with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, try to switch it around for the better. Teri Harbour, a stress management instructor at Frederick Community College near Washington, D.C., told news outlet WTOP, "We so often use our imagination to worry and to fear. Let's flip that around to use it to envision the best and to seek out the positive. We're going to feel better if we're doing that. We're going to have less stress; we're going to be fortified against the stress that's coming at us."16 She also recommends not only detaching from the situation if you find you're overly focused on the stressor, but also detaching from screens. "With the digital age, we are living a very fast-paced life," she says, "and I think stress affects everyone more today than ever before because things are so instant with technology. It can be very overwhelming and we sometimes don't even realize how stressful it is."17 Sources of Stress in America Are Changing Stress in America is nothing new, and the top stressors have long been money, work and the economy. In APA's 2017 Stress in America report, however, an increasing number of Americans cited stress not only related to the political climate but also to their personal safety.18 Thirty-four percent of Americans said their personal safety was a very or somewhat significant source of stress — the highest percentage since 2008. Fifty-nine percent regard acts of terrorism as a significant source of stress, as well. A survey of Americans' top fears conducted by Chapman University in 2016 also revealed that nearly one-quarter of Americans are very afraid of devastating natural disasters like hurricanes, earthquakes and floods.19 If you need immediate counseling to help you deal with the psychological effects of a hurricane (or any disaster situation) call the Disaster Distress Helpline 1-800-985-5990, which is run by SAMHSA and operates 24/7, 365 days a year. You can also text TalkWithUs to 66746 to connect with a crisis counselor. For more long-term help if you're having trouble moving past your anxiety and fear, or if you think you may have PTSD, professional counseling may be appropriate. Virtually everyone, however, can benefit from SAMHSA's tips for coping with a natural disaster, which include, as mentioned, taking care of yourself with a healthy diet, proper sleep and exercise, and avoiding the use of drugs and alcohol. In addition, put off making any major life decisions until after you've had time to recover from the disaster. They, too, recommend limiting your exposure to news and maintaining your regular routine, but do be gentle with yourself and allow time for recovery. "It is important that people try to accept whatever reactions they have related to the disaster," SAMHSA notes. "Take every day one at a time and focus on taking care of your own disaster-related needs and those of your family."20