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1-800-seo · 3 years

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1-800-SEO presents: — Where Is My Mind?

genre: dystopia/slight angst/escapism

pairing: Johnny Suh/Gender Neutral Reader

warnings: IV’s/needles, intravenous use of narcotics, bad coping mechanisms, alcohol use, depictions/descriptions of poverty to a degree, implied sexual activity, dreams

word count: 2506 words

in affiliation with: @127-mile ‘s

drive in fic collaboration

summary: Based in a future where your wildest dreams can be lived in for a few hours through intravenous methods, vices and virtues blur. Scraping by is all you can do, and escapism is all you live for. Maybe that will change when you meet him. (Loosely based on Inception.)

The familiar haze of mental fog clouds your mind, it coats the edges of your thoughts like a viscous syrup. You find yourself in a wheat field, the golden crops stretching for as far as the eye can see ahead of you. The swirling breeze passes over your hands and you feel it tickle, a sensation you’ve not felt in a long time. After taking a crisp piece of the surrounding plants into your hands, you feel each and every texture it offers with a fingertip. It’s not like you’ve ever touched real wheat before, you want to imprint it to memory. With the piece of crop still in your dominant hand, you turn your head, body following its arc too, and your eyes meet a cottage. The building just exudes a comforting energy, it's homely even when your real home is nothing alike. The trees that are positioned off to the side of the cottage provide the right amount of shade, one side of the house has full direct sunlight and the other is gently shaded, but in a comforting way. You drop the wheat and make your way over to the cottage. As you make your way up to the front door, following the perfectly placed path, you take in the smell of the decorative flowers that adorn the surrounding gardens. The smell of real flowers is something you’re not used to. Finally upon reaching the door, you outstretch your hand to grasp the door handle. The moment your skin makes contact with the sun-heated metal, a blinding hot white shoots across your vision, and pulls you out.

Waking up is never easy, but it’s not like you’re not used to it. The moment you open your eyes you are met with the same dingy apartment as almost every other wake up. Your arms feel weak from lack of circulation as you reach across to pull out your IV. It doesn’t sting, you’ve done this so many times, it’d be surprising if it did. As your eyes adjust to the light you start to make out the time, it’s displayed on the heads up view of your plexi-wall, and reads 11:36PM. Stars, it’d been 7 hours since you last ate, and your body is definitely letting you know as it starts to wake up from its lulled state. You shift your wobbly legs away from the crusty office chair you were sitting on and begin to make your way over to the food dispensary. You hold your palm over the sensor as a silver sachet slides out and into your palm. You make quick work of depositing its contents into a bowl and mixing it with hot water, your hunger spurring you to be swifter.

Before you know it, all of the food has been devoured, your stomach full, and the night is ready to be conquered. You have no desire to leave the flat, nothing calling you besides money to leave the (lack of) comfort of your home. But of course, money always beats out desire, and so you hastily put on your shoes and proofed jacket, grab your safety umbrella and backpack, and leave. Things had to be paid for, and your credits were seriously running low, if you wanted to continue with your expensive hobby, it meant scrounging. You’re not dumb, you knew that daydreaming wasn’t a cheap, safe, respectable, or even remotely healthy hobby to have, but at this point it was escapism, freedom from pain, and so you’d do anything for that sweet peace.

Once you’re at street level, you put up your umbrella. At this point it’s better to be safe than sorry, the acid rain warning that you saw on your dash ringing out in your memory. It never used to be like this, acid rain was once unheard of, but in the last ten years pollution came to the point that even the water cycle couldn’t be trusted. That’s the joys of living in urban scum, you think to yourself. Your ears register the faint sounds of sizzling rain droplets on your umbrella and you're grateful for it now. Your pace quickens, and after a blur of around 20 minutes walk, you arrive at your workplace.

Workplace was definitely too light of a word to call the building that stands before you. The imposing structure juts out into the dark with brightly coloured lights on its each corner, signalling its presence, as if it was easy to miss without the lights. The commonplace sound of thumping bass echoes about the street for meters, and it only gets louder as you walk up the stairs and into the building. A sign reading ‘Sondaero LivingSpaces’ greets you, but you know full well the people here are barely living. Oh no, this type of place is home to some of the most prolific daydreamers; well, the most prolific for the underground scene. You step through a set of large doors and out into the main courtyard. It’s an indoor park, filled with neon bioluminescent plants, and jarringly placed speakers. If this was any other establishment, the sea of ravers surrounded by people daydreaming on cot beds would be jarring to you, but you’re so used to it that you couldn’t care less; or more so, you’re plainly desensitised to it.

You find your way out onto the dancefloor and surround yourself with people - the more people the better, it just makes your job easier. Safely hidden in the palm of your hand is a biometric chip you crafted yourself. Implants are a little drastic in your opinion, especially when cosmetic, but this was a necessary thing to you considering it earnt you money. The function of the chip worked like this: every person is assigned biometric numerical values by the government of their country, this is to make controlling their finances easier without having a physical device like a debit card or a mobile phone. Instead each user is assigned these numerical values based on their facial bone structure, and the chip's job was to scan this using minute sensors. All you had to do was simply wave your hand in the direct vicinity of their face, and await results - those results being the chip draining their bank account of credit and depositing it into yours. The waving part is complicated in normal use, but when at a club, where wild dancing is the norm, it makes hand movements so much less conspicuous. As you imagine the small amounts of money gradually making its way into your account a man approaches you to your side.

The guy has long-ish dark brown hair, with eyes of the same colour and a tall stature. He begins dancing near you, slowly moving closer and closer towards your vicinity. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to this man, he was objectively good looking, and the smirk he was wearing on his face was hard to ignore. Before you know it, he’s leaning in your ear and shout-whispering: “hey, do you wanna get a drink with me, angel?” The confidence in him to skip all normal greetings is astounding to you, but in some ways that makes him even more attractive to you, so you whisper-shout back “yeah!” and lead him over to the bar by the elbow.

After you have a few drinks in you, dancing becomes thoughtless, and swaying and grinding on the nameless man is even easier. “Yo, what’s your name?” You ask over the pulsing beat. His response is a finger trailing up your spine with the words ‘Johnny’ leaving his lips. Maybe those disquieting thoughts aren’t only silenced by daydreaming, maybe this could be another outlet. That thought curls in your mind, the wispy tendrils of a coherent thought fading like a misty night.

A few more drinks in your systems leads you to going home with the man, but your memories fade away as the night (or should you say early morning?) carries on. It passes by in a blur and the next thing you know you’re being startled awake by a cat sitting on your chest, with an unearthly headache.

Once you finally manage to extricate yourself from the cat’s grasps, you sit up and immediately notice the sleeping form of Johnny next to you on the tatami, his chest rising and falling with each breath. As quietly as you can, you tiptoe up off the tatami floor, acknowledge the ache throughout your entire body and move towards his kitchenette for a glass of water. Unbeknownst to you, Johnny apparently has a rudely noisy water purifying outlet attached to his faucet, and it decides to make itself known the moment you hover your palm over the on sensor. Johnny quickly stirs awake at the noise, and he sleepily opens his eyes in your direction.

“Wha-what’s going on?” He asks, squinting as his dark eyes adjust to the light. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just trying to get some water.” You respond, tottering back over to the tatami, glass of water in hand. “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t really remember much of last night, did we uh- what did we do?” You’re aware your question was haphazard, but the incessant hangover looming in your head has your thoughts less than clear.

“If you are wondering if we had sex, the answer is yes, but the only thing I remember is waking up covered in… unsavoury stuff...so that certainly was a way of knowing how. I also know that apparently at some part of the night we decided to dream ‘cause I had to tidy up the gear earlier, but to put any worries at bay, I’m clean and vaccinated so...yeah.” He finishes the end of his sentence, trailing off. Well, at least the mystery man is somewhat of a gentleman, and he’s not gonna give you anything nasty which is always a good thing. You realise his late night cleaning must’ve turned to yourself at some point considering you are somewhat dressed and clean, but you can’t find it in you to care, you’d come to this shameful point so what did a bit of aftercare matter.

“Oh ok, and thanks for letting me know. I’m clean and fully vaccinated too.” You respond, unsure how to act around him. Perhaps he feels your apprehension, and in answer he pats a spot on the tatami next to him, just away from his cat too. You make your way over to the spot, feet padding on the floor as you go. “Your cat’s cute, they decided to sit on my chest this morning. Despite knocking the breath out of me, they’re pretty charming.” Johnny’s eyes widen at this knowledge before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. It’s somewhat comforting to hear such a genuine laugh; it takes your mind off the world of insincerity around you.

“I apologise for Ten, he gets cuddly in the mornings.” Johnny picks up his cat to give you more space, Ten’s legs sprawling wide in the air before being put down to safety.

There’s something so warm and familiar about Johnny’s presence, it has you naturally leaning into him, and his arm comes to rest around your shoulders as your head gently leans on his chest. The feeling is just so warm and despite knowing you don’t know him well, it almost feels like you do. It feels like a lover long lost, and now he has returned a warm feeling spreads throughout your chest. It’s almost inexplicable, and if you were to try to justify it to anyone other than yourself, a wave of embarrassment would certainly wash over you.

Looking down at you, he meets your eyes, and they seem somewhat fond; not what you were expecting to see. “Do you fancy dreamin’?” He asks, still maintaining eye contact? “Hmm, sure, hopefully I’ll remember it this time.” You reply with a smile and he reciprocates.

Before you even open your eyes you’re met with the sensation of skin on skin. Beneath your fingertips you feel, what you suppose is a firm chest, and when you open your eyes your suspicions are confirmed. Your hands are resting on Johnny’s taut chest, and of course this is what an unscripted dream with the two of you looks like. You feel that you are naked too, and his hands rest gently around your waist, a relaxing gentle weight reassuring you he’s still there. You meet each other’s eyes and the tension is palpable in the air. He dips his head down and kisses you, lips melting together with ease. His hands move from their placing and trail down to cup the small of your back, your bodies meeting infinitely closer.

The two of you move together like jigsaw pieces slotting into place, there’s no conscious thoughts, only the two of you existing in this dream space. Part of you can feel Johnny’s thoughts swirling as you share the hazy unstructured scape. There’s hints of lust mixed with a sleepy mindset, probably left over from waking up moments ago in the real world. He’s set on being a lazy lover right now, selfishly devouring you with no haste in any of his actions, just taking these moments for himself. He can feel your thoughts just as much as you can feel his, he knows you’re feeling relaxed with him and he’s pleased at that, he knows how good you feel right now and he’s proud. He wants to use all of this time to make you feel good. You’re both in agreement that losing yourself in each other is ever so easy, and so you both fall into the other's grasps.

The second time you wake up, Ten is resting on your feet, warming them from the slight chill of the room. Johnny had roused quicker than you, and he’d already removed the IV from your arm. You spot him winding up the fluid bags and putting them into the insulated case they reside in. “How are you feeling?” He asks whilst disposing of the needles in the marked sharps box. “Good, lighter than usual. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, albeit mostly imaginary.”

The floaty feeling remains in the forefront of your consciousness. Despite feeling lighter, less burdened, you’re aware that you need to change your vices. Constantly daydreaming, forming relationships through them, isn’t healthy. Continuous escapism isn’t a way to live; numbing yourself over and over again won’t solve anything. With a new fervor to gain meaning in your life, you rise from your place on the tatami. “What are your plans for today, John?” You ask, perhaps vices and meaning aren’t that different from each other.

long time no see! this is my penultimate fic :(( hopefully u guys enjoyed it! I know it’s not like my usual style and is somewhat offbeat but I hope it makes sense hehe <3

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storagerental-blog1 · 5 years

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Storage Rental

Forget spring cleaning! New Year’s was the best time for me to clean up my life.

I remember when I realized that something in my life had to change.

I had woken up in my room surrounded by chocolate wrappers, an empty tub of ice cream, and a pile of tissues in the bin. My phone was on voicemail for the past two days, primarily because it was covered under a pile of my ex’s love letters and I didn’t feel like touching it.

The ice cream didn’t mix well with the wine I had last night, and I felt sick to my stomach. It was the second day I woke up like this this week. At 25, I didn’t see my life being this way. I thought my apartment would look like those in magazines, and that I’d have a hot guy by my side!

Despite my best efforts, I just had gotten dumped by my ex Cassius. It was a toxic relationship. My room was a mess and I looked like a totally depressed wreck of a girl. I had guzzled down way too much red wine while crying over him. My life needed an overhaul!

It was December 27th, shortly after Christmas. Though I’ve never done it before, I started to put together a New Year’s resolution to clean up my life and find a way to break through all the horrible energy of 2018.

Giving your life an overhaul sounds like a world of expenses and efforts, doesn’t it? Believe it or not, I only really needed good friends, an online therapist, and an on-demand storage service called Shed.

I realized what the root of many of my problems was pretty quickly.

At first, I didn’t really know what to do. Should I go to a therapist? Should I go to rehab? I took a look around my apartment. It was a mess, and I realized that a lot of the things that were becoming such a burden during my time living here all dealt with stuff.

My ex’s jacket was still on the floor. My kegerator was full of booze. My yoga mat had turned into a carpet. My calendar that once had my schedule planned to the minute was nothing more than a dusty piece of wall decor, crowded by a pile of CDs from Cassius.

My friends and I banded together to clean up my life in 13 different ways. Here are some ways you can do it, using my process as an example.

Toss out your ex’s stuff.

I called my friends Frank and Steve over. They know me as a tidy person, which is why they were totally stunned when they walked into my apartment. My relationship with Cassius left me (and my apartment) a wreck. They asked me if I needed help, and I quickly said yes.

We started to toss out his stuff. I chucked out his love notes, some of the CDs he bought, as well as some of the other goods that reminded me of him. Everything went well until we turned our attention to his crust punk vest.

Steve pointed out something: Cassius loved that vest, and he was probably going to come back from it eventually. It was priceless thanks to the limited edition signed patches on it. If we threw it out, he would be very likely to call the police over stolen property.

We didn’t want it in the apartment, but we didn’t know what to do. I then looked at Cassius’s Airpods, his designer boots, and the iPad he left behind. This was a serious issue!

Steve pointed out that he had a storage unit with Shed that we could use, and this ended up being our saving grace.

Shed has one of the coolest concepts I ever heard of. It’s on-demand storage facility that will pick up your items, catalogue them, store them, and also deliver them the very same day you need them for free. He owned a large garage-sized storage unit, and soon, we figured out what to do.

We used Steve’s Shed app to call them over. Within minutes, the crew catalogued all of Cassius’s goods and shipped them away to safety. Frank grabbed my phone then texted Cassius, telling him to claim his goods in 30 days or we’d throw them out.

I found a way to draw a line in the sand with Cassius. He couldn’t just store stuff with me anymore and there was no way to excuse him hanging around anymore.

Clear out all the useless junk in your home!

With my ex’s junk out of the way, I almost immediately felt my life getting a bit better. Not having to see his stuff everywhere kept the memories of us away, and in its own weird way, helped me feel better.

I then looked around my home once more. We started to work on another way to clean up my life: getting rid of all the things I didn’t use or enjoy.

We tossed out torn clothes, broken dishes, broken gaming consoles, and so much more. It was a haul! In total, we threw out around six trash bags of stuff. My studio apartment stopped looking cramped and started to look a lot better.

When I woke up, I realized I still had a lot of stuff that I wasn’t sure what to do with. I used these items a little bit, but not enough to have them constantly out and about. (Looking at you, Mr. Breadmaker.)

Though it was great to have Cassius’s things stored in Steve’s storage, I realized that it was time to get my own. Storage through Shed would give me a healthy amount of time and space to figure out what I should do with each item—and also clear room in my apartment.

Before my best friends showed up, I ordered some storage space from Shed and got them to pick up a bunch of my old DJ gear. My room immediately looked a lot better.

Put all your “vice” items away.

I know that my drinking is a byproduct of my relationship with Cassius, and that I typically won’t drink if I don’t see things around me that remind me of drinking. The best way to break the bad habit, I figured, would be to develop an “out of sight, out of mind” attitude.

When Shed’s people arrived, I asked them to pick up my kegerator, my bar kit, my bartending books, and the home bar I built for the parties Cassius wanted to throw at my place. As they left, I realized that drinking just became a lot harder.

Clear your mind with regular therapy.

Though cleaning my home took a lot of work and accomplished a lot, everything wasn’t alright. It still hurt. I was still grieving my breakup, craving beer the moment I woke up, and feeling pretty anxious. Cleaning up my life meant that I would have to get someone who could clean up my mind, too.

Knowing that, I booked an appointment with a therapist. We spent the day talking, and I’m currently getting my treatment for depression. It’s really helping me move on.

Take time to give your apartment a serious scrub-down.

Now that all the extra goods were gone, my place was remarkably easy to clean up. I called my friends over to help. Within a couple of hours, we were able to vacuum, sweep, dust, and organize all three rooms. My apartment looked good as new, and more importantly, also smelled great once again.

There is serious truth to the health benefits of keeping a clean home. Frank, who has pretty bad allergies, looked pretty relieved once this task was through. It was now a healthier environment for everyone.

Clean up your finances.

I’ll admit it: Cassius put a serious toll on my personal finances. Steve was the one who pointed out that I wasn’t able to pay for pizza delivery, and well, I ended up spilling the beans. Thankfully, Steve worked in finance and was able to help out.

We put together a plan to pay down debt, improve my credit score, and also avoid late fees. Oh, and we also got Cassius off my phone plan, because he really should learn to stop being a leech.

Believe it or not, having a clean home made it easier to focus on the financials. There were just fewer distractions along the way.

Pick up a side gig.

Even with all the sweeping changes that I was making, Cassius still was getting free rent in my mind. Everyone knew he was bad for me, but I didn’t want to fully let go quite yet. Eventually, it came to a head with my therapist who mentioned that it could be something to do with my schedule.

I started to take a look at getting gigs playing music at parties. I started to get extra work! Every time I’d have a gig, I’d ask Shed to bring my gear the day before. The day after, it’d go right back to Shed. It was a great system that helped me earn money without losing space.

Give your social media a scrub.

While browsing the world of Instagram, I came across Cassius posting something about us. Almost immediately, I unfollowed him. Then, I realized that I probably had 50 other people from his toxic crowd with access to my social media.

I looked in my inbox, and was already getting some really intrusive questions from his friends. Unfollow, block, unfollow, block. Deleting my public trainwreck of a breakup post was a must, too. There was a lot of work to do.

After about an hour of unfollowing and scrubbing, my social media accounts had fewer followers—but it paid off by having less stress.

Clean up your health habits.

Cassius was not the healthiest person out there, and it wasn’t just his excessive drinking that made him awful. He ate poorly, his hobbies were toxic, and honestly, he didn’t really even respect my need for healthy habits.

I looked through my kitchen cupboards and threw out all the food he’d normally be trying to shove down my throat. I called my friends from my old weight loss group, and we all went out grocery shopping together. My kitchen was full of foods ready for clean eating, and no soda was visible in my home.

The moment I promised myself to stick to clean eating, I ordered my old food processor home from Shed. I forgot how much I love my sweet potato purees!

While you’re at it, clean out your subscriptions.

Cleaning has a wild way of gaining momentum. This even spread to my email, which I actually only recently remembered having. It’s true. My breakup so deeply affected me, I didn’t check my email for a week!

My inbox was flooded with stuff and reminders of all the little subscriptions I had. News updates I didn’t need, weird little ads for things I no longer wanted, and litter that got rid of my mind’s focus—it was just too much. I cleared out the subscriptions I no longer used.

While it was a little work, by the end of my cleaning binge, I saved about $50 on needless subscriptions that I no longer used. It was a nice chunk of change.

Give your social circle a trim, too.

Cassius called within two weeks, asking for his stuff back. Admittedly, I was tempted. I didn’t want him to stay gone. I still cared about him. I set up a time, called my friends, and then got Shed to drop off his goods.

When he came by, Frank and Steve wouldn’t leave my side. We handed him his stuff. He looked around the apartment, which now bore a striking resemblance to how it looked prior to us dating. He asked to come back, and I told him to get lost.

After that night, Frank and Steve helped me prune my address book. My life finally felt together again.

Reference : https://shedstorage.com/

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