#she was like ‘your mental health is always my number one priority

[cowlovely]

huh

[superhero--imagines]

Dating Luffy Would Include

A/N: Reposting because someone mentioned that Luffy is canon!ace, so these headcanons are just Luffy being Luffy, there's not a need to call it out (Which I see the point of.)

* So Luffy is Ace

* That’s canon

* I am convinced you guys started dating because when you guys landed at a port town, everyone went their own ways, and you and Luffy went together to eat at a busy tavern

* You’re sitting across from him, studying the menu, discussing what you're both going to get

* “This is kind of like we’re on a date,huh?” You say jokingly after he orders for you both

* Something in his head must have clicked right then, that yeah this does feel a little like a date, and yeah, he does like it

* His face breaks out into the biggest grin, “should I order some wine?”

* In his head I think drinking wine is the most date-like thing

* He orders the wine

* You’re half surprised when mid-way through the meal he gets this serious look in his eyes.

* “Can I kiss you?”

* You almost do a spit take, choking on your drink

* “Where is this coming from?!”

* If he wanted a taste of your food he could have just asked not that he ever had before though

* “I want to know what it feels like.”

* It’s a fleeting kiss, nothing more than a peck, but it brings heat to your face

* It’s also at this moment that you realize it’s gotten unusually quiet in the tavern

* You can practically feel the burn of stares

* Luffy feels nothing, instead he grins wide and says:

* “Hey (Y/N), let’s date and be partners.”

* The tavern goes wild

* “Isn’t that straw hat Luffy?”

* “Did he just ask them to be his lover?”

* With your face, as hot as the sun, hidden behind you hands, you nod

* “Okay.”

* He’s such an affectionate baby

* If you guys split up, and he meets back with you again he grins and stretches his arms out, wrapping them twice around you before tugging you towards him

* “(Y/N), I missed you!” He’ll say while nuzzling his face into your neck

* He loves it when you do that thing where you hold his face in both your hands and sprinkle kisses all over his face

* I think his kisses are pretty chaste, just quick, fluttering, pecks

* I think there’s a lot of insecurity on your end at first, because you don’t really know where you stand in his life, and how he feels about you

* He’s only got one thing on his mind — being king of the pirates

* If you had to bucket his ‘love’ in order of priority you’d say number one is himself and his version of freedom

* With his friends as a close second

* And then there you are, a seemingly distant third

* Given his personality you wonder if he knows being your “partner” doesn’t equate to just being your friend

* “Luffy what do you think we are?”

* His head tilts to the side, eyebrows twitching

* “You’re my partner.”

* “Yeah but what do you think that means?”

* “That it’s you and me until the end,” he says without an ounce of hesitation.

* “No matter what happens, no matter where you go — I’ll always be there for you and you’ll be there for me too.”

* In a way, it’s more than you could have hoped for—because when Luffy says it, it sounds like a promise

* You take his hand in yours and squeeze

* His mouth breaks out in a grin

* He loves you so so so much, don’t ever doubt that

* He would literally never cheat on you even though he seems to capture hearts with clueless rizz everywhere he goes

* “You going to go give your girlfriend a kiss before she leaves?” You ask Luffy, swallowing hard to keep from looking at Boa Hancock any longer than you have to

* A woman so beautiful she could give you an entire slew of self esteem and mental health issues at the of her sight alone

* “Why would I say goodbye when you’re right here next to me?”

* And just like that he’s got you blushing and mumbling to yourself

* And just like that he’s laughing

* He’s got you wrapped around his finger

* But don’t think he isn’t wrapped around your finger too

* You look at your plate with increasing concern

* Luffy’s fork slides in and out of view, depositing a glistening piece of fruit with each visit

* “Luffy what are you doing?”

* “You like these right?”

* Yeah, but so does he

* The entire crew shares your sentiment as they watch him with gaping mouths

* Luffy sharing food, you never thought you would see the day

* “Thanks Luffy.”

* “Anytime!”

* You’ll take it though

* God, just the thought of seeing gear 5 Luffy?

* Like he’s laughing up there, his silhouette hangs in front of the moon

* And it feels like you’re looking at a god

* This is what Patroclus must have felt like watching Achilles in war

* You’re brought to your knees at the sight of him

* His gaze swings to you, that same laugh rings in your ears—Luffy’s laugh

* “There you are! I was looking everywhere for you!”

* His arms wrap around you twice, bending space and time to bring you to him.

* “I missed you!” he says, nuzzling his face into your neck

NSFW

Under the cut

* So like I said he’s somewhere on the asexuality spectrum

* I don’t think he’s sex repulsed, but it’s definitely not the first thing on his mind

* So if you want to have sex with him you’re going to have to initiate

* Be direct, because he doesn’t understand any other way

* “Luffy I wanna sleep with you.”

* He grins, “Of course! We can take a nap together anytime you want.”

* “No, like…I want to have sex with you.”

* Oh.

* Ohhhhhh

* “Yeah, sure.”

* He’s willing to try it out.

* His verdict?

* “It was nice but I wouldn’t go out of the way to do it again or anything.”

* His favorite part was seeing you all flustered and panting with that sweet look in your eyes.

* His heart gets about ten times bigger from the memory alone

* He’d take a picture on a Polaroid and keep it in his pocket if he could

* He might get aroused occasionally, and seek you for some ‘alone’ time for stress relief, but it’s few and far between

* He’s a very confident boy, but this one would get to him

* “Am I enough for you?” He’ll ask one night hence you’re alone

* He’s only ever dreamed about being king of the pirates, about ultimate freedom

* So he never realized what a big deal sex was to other people

* And at the end of the day he doesn’t feel sexual attraction

* Maybe that’s a big deal for you

* You put your arm around him and hold him close

* “You’re more than enough for me Luffy, you’re my dream boy,” you promise

* And if you kiss his forehead afterwards?

* He might actually cry

[indigoraysoflight]

Be Strong, Dear Caryler.

Hi there, fellow Caryler.

The fandom is a CRAAAZY place right now. Everything feels chaotic and uncomfortable. You want to be excited but things feel uncertain. Perhaps you open your social media to find some good news but end up feeling confused, anxious, and frustrated. Maybe it doesn't even feel worth chasing the Caryl dream. S2 can't get here quickly enough, so you can see Caryl together again.

I hear you. I'm in the same place so I completely get it. No one can deny that last year was traumatizing in many ways. I'm sure you have feelings about it and your own way of dealing with those feelings.

If you're excited about the spinoff because you adore Daryl and want to see what happens before Carol gets there – that's valid. I hope you find what you're looking for from S1. If you're sad, hurt, and overall frustrated with the way things went down last year (and are dreading the possible ship baiting in S1), you're allowed to feel that way. Maybe you're conflicted and don't know where you stand. That's okay too.

YOUR FEELINGS ARE VALID. No matter what they are.

This is where I stand: AMC made it "untenable" for Melissa McBride to be in the spinoff because they moved it to France. AMC and other co-workers spoke on Melissa's behalf, but I only believe what she said (and/or didn't say). She decided to come back to us for S2. I trust her judgement and know she would only agree to what's best for herself and her character in S2. I think AMC still has a final say on things like the title, which is sad because her character deserves to be on it. So far, everything about S1 has made me anxious, so I am withholding my view. I only intend to tune in when I see my dealbreakers. I will watch S2 to support Melissa and Caryl.

We may or may not share the same perspective about what happened with the Caryl spinoff, the current spinoff, or last year's disaster – but I respect yours.

Please take care of yourself. This fandom can sometimes make you feel isolated and lonely – especially if you meet people you're not aligned with. I was fortunate to meet people in the fandom a few months ago (when I felt so alone, I was ready to quit) who were kind and supportive. They honoured my feelings and opinions regarding the show. That helped me honour and accept my own feelings about it – the good, bad and the ugly.

If you ever want some clarity, want someone to geek out about Caryl with or just need to chat with someone in the fandom, my ask box is open. I'll do my best to respond and talk to you.

Please remember that your mental health is the top priority. If you're struggling, please reach out to someone in your support system or get help. (Here's a directory of mental health crisis numbers)

We're all in this together. Caryl will always be endgame.

[asshlyyyy]

It's Only Love

Thank you so much for this request. I was actually writing something similar to this, and I still will. I want to try and get my request box cleared, and I really want to get back into writing.

I wanted to have this more on the happier end, considering I will have one that will be extreme sadness and angst. I hope that the comfort you wanted is present? I didn't do too much, more like... understanding and knowing Elvis.

Masterlist

Pairing: Elvis (or Austin!Elvis) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Death, Sadness, Greif, Fluff, Spelling and Grammatical Errors Mostly Likely. Let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 1.6k

"Could you do a fluff with Austin. Where the reader’s brother passed away and it’s his birthday and he just comforts her and they go to visit his grave"

In life, everyone had a mental priority list. If somehow you don't know what a priority list is, it is as simple as it sounds. It is a mental list that everyone has that shows who is the most important. Whom you rather be spending most of your time with. Whom you'd want to take the most care of. For some people the first person is themselves. For other people, it can be their significant other.

Your list was quite simple actually. First things first... the first person was your husband. You lived with him and breathed the same air as him twenty-four-seven. No matter his crazy ass schedule. You followed him everywhere he went, even if it meant you suffered just as much as he did. He was the love of your life, and you would do anything for him. Hell, you would risk your life if it meant saving him.

Next on your list came yourself. Just like your husband, self-care and self-health were very important. Being able to be openly available for your husband, and not have him have to deal with your own weight... just makes things quite easier. Not to mention, it's good to have a good self-care and self-love system. Because then you're less stressed, and your husband doesn't have to hold stress for you.

Third, on your list came your family. Now, this excludes your husband considering he is number one on your list. This includes the family you were born into. So, your mother... your father, and your brother. It was a small family, but it was your family. You loved them all very much. Nothing could lose your love for them. They all meant something to you and they all brought you something.

Your mother was an absolute angel. She always tended to you when you cried and made sure you knew how to understand your emotions. She also taught you how to care for others and how to understand their feelings. Your father taught you how to be tough. He taught you how to be rough. Your brother taught you almost everything else. When your parents were working, he took care of you. He taught you the things your parents didn't want to teach you.

Everyone else was below number three. Your friends, other relatives, Elvis' friends. They all appeared lower on your list. You wanted to focus your breath on people more important than those you hardly saw. Plus, you were sure that your friends were just using you at this point to get close to your husband.

A couple of weeks ago you got the worse news of your life. Your best friend, your older brother, passed away. Death affected everyone differently, and while someone like my husband can’t feel what I feel towards him, he still feels sad. He was a friend of his, and you were glad the two got along. You two were home when your mother phoned you. You broke down right there and couldn’t get the words out.

It wasn’t until later that night Elvis found out the news. So, while you dealt with the hard details of his death, Elvis took time off. He knew what it was like to lose a loved one. Especially a brother. He may have not known his, but still went through the same situation.

As you woke up, you felt your whole body fall apart. You knew what today was, and you’ve been dreading it since his passing. A birthday is a time to celebrate getting old int. Taking in a new age, but he was stuck at the age he died in. How do you celebrate something so happy, when they are no longer around? Do you just stop celebrating their birthday?

You were new to this whole death situation, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t know how you were supposed to do anything. Did you still celebrate their birthday? All these questions and you got no answers…

You stared at the ceiling blankly and shook your head. You turned to look at your husband, but instead, you just found his pillow and no body.  You let out a sigh and pushed yourself up into a sitting position and heard the door open. You turned your head and watched as Elvis walked in.

“Good mornin’ darlin’.” Elvis said as he noticed you were awake.

“Morning,” you replied tiredly.

“I figured we could go to the cemetery today?” He suggested as he opened up a few of the blinds. You looked at him confused. He wanted to go to the cemetery.

“You want to go…?” You confused. He let out a hum and nodded.

“I always visit ma mama on her birthday. Figured we could visit ya, brotha.” You smile softly and nodded.

“I would love that.” You replied.

You got yourself up out of bed and made it to the closest. You two get dressed and soon you two went downstairs. You decide it would be best to eat before you two leave. Of course, you two were going to stop to get some flowers. Why wouldn’t you? You couldn’t exactly buy anything for him to use, so get him some flowers to show that you care.

“What kind of flowers do you get someone?”

“Usually ones that remind you of them.” You replied as you looked at the selection of showers the shop had. Elvis hummed and looked around also.

Elvis picked up a bouquet of flowers and looked towards you, “what about their favorite flowers?”

“That too, but when its cases like this… well… it’s always best to go with ones that remind you of them.” You replied and looked at the flowers in his hands. You smiled and nodded. You didn’t know if he picked them up on purpose or not… but either way they were perfect.

“Yeah, these remind me of him. They hold that sense of… look I’ll fucking kill ya, but I’ll also love ya.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his explanation.

You took the flowers from him, “of course they do.”

You two went to the checkout and paid for the flowers. You then made your way over to the cemetery where your brother lay for the rest of time. It wasn’t that far of a drive, but it sure felt like forever. It felt like it did so long ago. The first drive out here was a painful one, and Elvis had to make many stops.

You’re still pained by his loss, but you knew that he was still around. He was up in heaven giving his advice now to those who need it. You smiled softly as the gates appeared in front of you. Maybe today wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it would be. You had your husband by your side and your brother.

“It’s not too bad outside,” you commented as you guys came to a stop.

“Not too cold, not too hot,” Elvis replied in response. You nodded and got out of the car.

Being in a cemetery can be quite frightening. There are hundreds of dead people, and not to mention these places can be sort of like a maze at some points. Never knowing where you are, or where the person you’re looking for is. It is all one big place to get lost in.

“You ready?” Elvis looked over at you.

You nodded in response, “let’s go.”

The two of you made your way over to his grave. Being here in the cemetery reminded you just how real this was. It always feels like a fever dream, but when you’re standing here… it is reality.

“Hi Aiden,” you said softly and laid the flowers down. “Happy birthday,” you smiled weakly.

Elvis wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “Happy birthday man.”

“You would’ve been thirty today. Ya old man,” you chuckled lightly

“‘M turnin’ thirty soon.” Elvis pointed out.

“And then you’ll be an old man,” you poked his chest lightly. You pulled away from him and sat down on the grass.

“Great, just great.” You laughed gently at his reaction and shook your head.

“Elvis picked those out for you, so if you don’t like it haunt his ass.” You talked to your older brother.

“Hey now, I didn’t sign up for a bullying class,” Elvis commented as he sat down beside you.

“You signed up for it when we got together. Don’t make this about yourself either, it’s Aiden’s birthday.”

“Oh, of course, my apologies. Go on,” he motioned his hand out. You chuckled lightly and rested your head against his shoulder.

“I thought today was going to be hard. Instead… it’s easy… It sucks that you’re stuck at twenty-nine forever… but at least you got to experience everything. Who wants to get old anyways? I think it’s overrated.”

“You think everythin’ is overrated,” Elvis spoke up.

“I don’t think you are.” You smiled at him.

“Mhm, just kissin’ up to me now.” You chuckled once more and closed your eyes gently.

“I miss you Aiden… we all do… but I know you’re here with us each and every day. Mostly because I know you would want to haunt us all.”

“Is that why my toothbrush is always downstairs?” Elvis started to question.

“Maybe,” you giggled and pushed Elvis lightly.

While a couple of hours ago today may have seemed like the hardest day… it turned into an easy day of remembrance. You got to spend it with your husband, and the two of you spent some time with Aiden. You really wished things turned out differently, but God had a path for everything… and he just reached the end of his.

Original Ask: "Could you do a fluff with Austin. Where the reader's brother passed away and it's his birthday and he just comforts her and they go to visit his grave."

If you don't know, my taglist is broken. While I work on figuring out a different method, I am just tagging mutuals. I hope to get it up and running in a little while.

Mutual Taglist: @babyhoneypresley, @emmymaehereeeeee, @venus-haze, @austinstyles

[bitchywaifuwu]

Could u do a Do Shik request? Please

Where he and y/n used to date but then y/n broke up with him because he was being to clingy/possessive. So as a result of then breaking up he kidnaps her and keeps her in his basement. Few months later when y/n escapes and has do shik chasing her down she gets hit in the head with something hard and gets knocked out. When she wakes up in the hospital not knowing or being unable to recall what’s happened for the past 5 years or so the doctors diagnosed her with amnesia. Do shik takes advantage of that and tells y/n that they are lovers and have been dating for 5 years successfully tricking y/n and taking her back home like nothing ever happened.

im so sorry this has taken me so long to post, ive had to take a bit of a break for my mental and physical health and i stayed away from writing for way longer than i thought i would. i will try to put loads out now to make up for it though

do-shik x fem!reader

warnings : manipulation, kidnapping, forced starving, short coma, memory loss, abusive relationship, assault?

the grip on your wrist was strong - tight - and do-shik clearly wasn’t planning on letting go of you any time soon.

“you can’t leave me! i won’t let you!”

over the few years you had been dating do-shik, he had slowly become more and more possessive. it was hardly noticeable at first and whenever he told you that he “just wants to spend more time you, after all you’re always so busy with all the work your boss dumps on you,” you would brush it off and take his word for it. however, him calling your workplace and quitting your job for you with no discussion about it beforehand was too far. him not letting you answer your phone anymore was too far. and him not letting you see your friends or family was way too far.

you were finally fed up and you couldn’t just ignore all of the red flags that had slowly been popping up everywhere. you needed to get the fuck out of that house, and more than anything, you needed to get the fuck away from your boyfriend.

little did you know that decision would be the worst you would ever make.

three months. three months since he broke into the tiny house you and your mum were staying in and stole you away in the middle of the night. three months of worrying about her - not knowing what had happened to her and if do-shik hurt her. three. fucking. months of being borderline starved to death until you have to grovel at your captor’s feet, begging him to bring you even the smallest crumb.

even though he was almost a complete stranger to you again, you were easily able to identify that the expression stretching across his face each time was one of glee.

it took a lot of work but over the time you were hidden away within the depths of his home, you had gained his trust. not much, but enough for him to let you have free reign over your room and wander freely while he was away. you waited for him to leave late at night, most likely to find his next victim, and began planning your escape.

you had memorised the layout of the room, what was in it and where everything was so that when the time came for you to leave, he wouldn't be able to find you. most of your plan had been perfected; you would find the makeshift key you had made out of hairpins and scrap pieces of metal, pick the lock, and leave about ten minutes after hearing the car out front pulling out of the driveway.

you weren't sure where you would go but you did know that you would run as far away as you could. maybe even change everything about you. just so that you could be free again.

fresh air had never tasted so good, never smelt so different from the humid, musky air you got down in the basement. you finally felt free.

instinct kicked in and you ran. you ran as fast as you could through the winding roads and alleyways. priority number one was find a crowded area - somewhere you could get help and finally have do-shik locked away forever. the rough roads hurt and your bare feet were burning from the open scrapes on the soles.

the city was close. you could smell it, hear it, taste it on your lips. the sound of people shopping late at night, the scent of food from stalls on the street. you were so close. it was just a bit beyond the corner - only a little longer.

and then everything faded, a sudden sharp pain in the back of your head spreading across your whole body and as you lost consciousness you heard somebody shout for help.

when you came to it was bright. too bright. you could feel needles stabbing your brain over and over millions ever second. someone was holding your hand in a soft, clammy grip. you didn’t recognise him but by god was he beautiful.

“y/n? fuck i thought i lost you. why did you have to worry me like that?”

tears fell from his eyes onto the hand he still hadn’t let go of. his shoulders shook as he sobbed and you felt bad for not knowing who this man was. why didn’t you know who he was when he seemed to care about you so much that he would worry about you?

“who... are you?”

your voice was quiet and scratchy. how long had it been since you had used it? you couldn’t tell but your hair looked longer than you liked. the man’s eyes glistened with more tears and he looked hurt.

“you don’t remember me? i’m your fiance. we were going to get married 4 months ago - you went into a coma not long before the wedding. do you really not remember me?"

a simple shake of your head told him all he needed to know and he looked dejected, like he had lost all hope.

"but i'm willing to try and remember you. i'm sure you were important to me before."

his former expressiom morphed into a grin. it was a good thing you mistook the twisting feeling in your gut as a side effect of the medicine.

[thelatebloomerdiaries]

5.15.24 🌛 Curly Fries, Sweet Tea, Hard Talks and Insanity.

When that one girl on TikTok said you pay for rent in with your mental health when you live with your parents SHE WAS NOT LYING. I had a good day, UNTIL, I tried to talk about my break up with my mom and dad and they just made everything my fault and that I was overacting. My friends I met from last job are the best because even though they explained to me what I need to work on they also tried to see where I was coming from. Like they called me out on my bullsh*t while also holding my ex accountable. It put me in a slump where I really considered committing myself to the hospital because I always allow myself to be baited in conversations with my family. I even thought about just quitting school, getting to jobs just get out of here. But now I've regrouped I realized that some of my prior plans will have to wait because I need to prioritize one major thing at a time. The number one priority is my health, then school. Everything else is irrelevant. I also after having my almost 3rd breakdown this week decided to still pursue cloud computing, but maybe consider putting it a bit on hold. Anyways today was an escapism day where I just calmed myself and tried not to feel like a big, fat, aging failure. Back to positive affirmations:

How someone treats you is a reflection of them NOT you.

Every action does NOT deserve a reaction.

You are your top priority. PERIOD!

You health doesn't stop at the gym, talk to YOU NICE!

You need to be your own biggest fan and show up for you unapologetically.

[problematicfanfics]

// rant

tldr; dad’s a pos and i wasted my time on shit no one cared about

softball was my absolute life from kindergarten up until two years ago (tenth grade) and my dad never gave a shit about me in the sport until he could extort it to gain some slight political power in my new area but he has literally paid over $1,000 for my sister to play the sport on various teams, gotten her various lessons, and spent it on equipment meanwhile i used to have to cry and scream in order for him to even think about driving me to a practice as a kid. i used to have to walk upwards of an hour+ with my catchers gear, gloves, balls, bat, etc (that i paid for all on my own) to get to my practices, or beg my teammates parents for rides to games. he nor my mom have once showed up to anything i played in (i played various sports and did many clubs throughout my school career), and i would always ask him to come throw a ball around with me or teach me to ride a bike or spend literally any time w me and he always refused. now this month long trip in greece he brought his and my sister’s glove to play softball. and didn’t bring mine. or tell me to bring mine. or like. anything. and i told my sister “go play with dad, he brought your gloves” and she said “well i didn’t fuckin ask him to”. bitch. i wouldve fucking KILLED for my dad to do that. i would STILL kill for my dad to do that. i WISH he would just come up to me and say “let’s go to the field” the way he does with her. it’s not fucking fair bro like. please i’m a star 😊😊😊🤣🤣🤣🤪🤪🤪🤩🤩🤩

i quit softball this year because i was ruining my mental health with it. i was absolutely demolishing myself for a sport no one gave a shit i played in. i spent my entire childhood playing so many sports and always dropped them for softball/baseball, it was always my priority. always my number 1. i had fucking dreams of playing D1 for colleges ever since i was a kid. but my cheapskate of a fucking father couldn’t be bothered to help me achieve anything. i’m so mad. i could’ve been doing something else with my fucking life. i literally spent 12 years busting my ass on this damn sport. and no one, not once, thought that with my drive and passion and dare i even say talent, i could do more. i had no options as a kid. and watching my sister, who was handed everything i wanted and more on a silver platter, throw all of it into the trash chute because she wants to be some basic white bitch, makes me wanna fucking rip my hair out. why don’t I get to be a basic white bitch? why don’t I get to play D1? why don’t I get to run around and do fuck all the way she got to? why did I have to play mom for 12 years of my life, never getting to pursue or do anything i wanted to do??

can i also say i suffer from fibromyalgia, a chronic pain disorder, and it’s something i was born with. so since i was 9 years old i’ve been screaming crying in pain every night and day desperately fighting through it because i just loved sports that much?? i quit catching because it was deteriorating my knees and there would be days after games where i couldn’t walk. my coaches played me less after i quit catching because they were mad at me for quitting since i was “the best catcher on the team” and decided to dig back at me like it was my choice?? like my physical and mental health wasn’t on the line? like it pains me to think i cant do physical activity anymore i love it so much but i walk to and from my classrooms and i want to break down from the pain. i’m so tired. i just want to be passionate about something again but every time i am i am just fucking hated on idk what i’m doing wrong

[promiseiwillwrite]

February "Whatever comes Up"

So things are winding down for the February Segment of this spell.

And I think I've brought things full circle.

In ways I did not expect.

Of Course.

When I entered into this month, the entity I contacted was Grandmother, in a rather Slavic sense.

She was very clear that is was time for me to work with creation of textiles, and told me to pick between knitting and crochet. I told her that I didn't really know enough about either one to know the difference.

She told me I had three days to gather information and decide.

On the third day I grabbed some Chopsticks out of my kitchen drawer and started knitting my first scarf.

The resulting scarf is Thick and Wooly and Lovely.

I learned some things about another application of some of the skills I gained from therapy.

I am sure everyone has heard of Re-framing. This has been very useful for me.

But this month I was having trouble with some intrusive thoughts and depression, and some troubling health developments. I had reason to not feel very good or okay. My emotions really reflected what was going on, but my thoughts and anxieties were not in line with that.

So Grandmother told me "Now Turn it Over."

Like Knitting... Sometimes mental health stuff has to be looked at from a Completely Opposite Viewpoint. Sometimes Re-framing isn't enough. Sometimes you have to take whatever intrusive thought and turn it completely around on itself, or inside out and see if the thing that your mind is seeing only as a problem is actually something else entirely that is being perceived mistakenly as a problem or threat.

Someone very Clever made a post about a "Moon's Advocate". I didn't re-blog it and I should have... But essentially, rather than "Devil's Advocate" providing a contrary or oppositional view, the Moon's Advocate asks "Does this Matter?" and "If So, Why?"

And so casting off from there (oh no, knitting puns) I finally came around to what Grandmother intended to teach with Knitting:

That I, in my concerted efforts of Many, Many years, have prioritized betterment of the self, self improvement, at all costs. And now, it is time for a change.

I expected my experience of Baba Yaga to be one of unpredictable change between her kind and cruel aspects. I expected the lessons to be hard and harsh.

But this is how I have been with myself.

She didn't have to lift a finger in that area, because I'd already done all the work there that was needed.

And the lesson she had for me, taught through injuries to my body, and pains and intrusive thoughts, was that I needed to shift my priorities in a big way, and actually prioritize enjoying my life. And Not as number nine out of a list of ten. But In the top four things I am doing and being and valuing.

And it means sitting down, and shutting up, and listening, and knitting, and unminding myself from all the shit I normally worry about, and doing some things I've always wanted to do but have never allowed myself time or permission to do.

[freezethebeez]

Catalyst ranboo spent 117 years doing fuck all? Also, how does his whole blood-ED thing work?

yeah pretty much. that's why his mother visits at least once a year. she takes him outside and asks him to show her around town (even though she's seen it) just to make sure that ranboo doesn't shut himself away from the world completely.

and FINALLY SOMEONE ASKS ABOUT RANBOO'S ED. i've been waiting to go into detail about it because it's such a big part of his character, but i didn't want to bring it up randomly because it could be triggering to people. so uh, yeah trigger warning for disordered eating under the cut.

ranboo's ed is pretty similar, if not the same as someone struggling with anorexia, just blood edition. since there's no low calorie blood or whatever, ranboo doesn't really have any choice but to just Not Eat. which is exactly what he does. and it gets to a point where he can't help his hunger yeah yeah we know how this goes.

there are quite a few reasons why he starves himself. one of them is, you know, the death of Raine– which wasn't his fault, but survivors guilt and all that. the other one is that ranboo would just rather feel empty. if he's had any blood whatsoever, even if it's just a tiny amount, he feels sick and sort of unclean and impure and yeah being hungry all the time sucks but to ranboo it's better than eating.

he's also not worried about his weight or appearance because he doesn't like looking at himself anyways. he's more just super focused on not eating, that's it.

now, this could just be classified as ranboo feeling guilty about eating people, however it does take a huge toll on him mentally and his fear of biting someone and just drinking blood in general is so big that i think it counts as an eating disorder. plus normal vampires tend to drink blood once a month, so ranboo is fairly far from normal.

his thought process when it comes to drinking blood will be discussed a little more in chapter 8, so i don't want to say too much at the moment. it's about as similar as i could get it to someone with a restrictive ed though (mostly just having that Fear of eating).

also, for the record, when vampires are as hungry as ranboo they tend to smell a little closer death. they look a little more dead than usual, thinner as well, and ranboo's mom can Definitely Tell (which, again, will be touched on a little more in ch 8). essentially all the symptoms and side effects that come with a restrictive ed are present in ranboo.

while we're on the topic of ed's, i'd also like to quickly touch on tommy's. his isn't as prominent since he's not really a main character plus he's recovered (yay!! good for him), but it's still definitely there. his ed was also restrictive like ranboo's, and was mostly caused by a lack of motivation and want to have control in his life. he would only eat one meal a day, if that, and they would be very small meals. a couple more details on the effects of this are shown in chapter 9.

i've tried my best to convey the harm of eating disorders in this fic as someone who has struggled with one myself. that's right, hot take, eating disorders are Bad. like. really bad. if you're struggling with one yourself, please do your best to take care of yourself, and know that my dms are open to anyone who needs support. and if someone you know may have one, be there to support them. your health and safety should always be your number one priority.

but yeah tldr; ranboo has basically the same thing as human anorexia just with blood, same side effects and everything.

[eazy-group]

Kim lost more than 200 pounds

New Post has been published on https://eazydiet.net/kim-lost-more-than-200-pounds/

Kim lost more than 200 pounds

Transformation of the Day: Kim lost 200+ pounds. We’ve been following her amazing journey online, so we asked her to share how she has kept the weight off and maintained her focus.

Social Media Instagram: @kym_nichole

What is your current weight? Healthy numbers and the scale can be triggering for me, depending on my mindset. However, I’m 5’9″ and between 240lbs – 250lbs right now. I’ve lost 200+ pounds from my heaviest weight. I’m still losing weight but also gaining defined muscle. 

How have you maintained your weight loss/continued to lose weight? I prioritize nutrition, counting macros, and drinking a gallon of water daily. I also work out 5-6 days weekly with focused yoga, stretching, and mindfulness throughout my regimen. When it comes to exercise, strength training is a priority! I lift 4-5 days per week and, of course, I do some cardio for heart and endurance health. 

Lifting heavy weights has been a game changer for my body recomposition goals. And ladies, don’t worry, you won’t look like a man. If you like a toned, defined look (and most importantly, you want to maintain mobility and strength), then you need to lift… especially my sisters over 40! 

Looking back on the lessons you’ve learned on your journey, which one stands out the most? Celebrate all the wins and stop comparing myself to others. This has always been my journey, and comparison is really the thief of joy. Once I learned that lesson, I was kinder to myself. I could also celebrate others without thinking their success somehow diminished my own. 

Would you like to offer any new or different advice to women who want to lose weight? Your race, your pace. There are no quick fixes. No matter the path you choose, long-term results and success only come to those who put in the work. 

Obesity and food addiction are diseases and should be treated as such, mentally and physically. You have to take care of your whole self. There’s no shame in needing and asking for help. Whether it’s therapy, medical interventions, coaching, training, accountability partners; whatever you need to live your best life, is what you need to do. Research, learn, and invest in yourself, even if you start out by just carving out time to focus on you every day. You are worthy! 

<![CDATA[.prevNextBtnbackground-image:none;]]>

window.fbAsyncInit = function() FB.init( appId : '1531644400444480', xfbml : true, version : 'v2.2' ); ;

(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Source link

[coratcoretdikepala]

Mom

I made this post as a thank you letter to my mom.

My relation and connection with my mom are not that good  since January this year.

There is something missing between us. She used to be my everything. The one who I really love and look up too. As I am growing up and mature enough, I am more aware that my mom has strengths and weakness and some of her weakness are not good for my mental health.

Yesterday, I accompany her to Pasar Baru to buy fabrics for my wedding. She is very nice yesterday, she agrees to the fabric we choose. The price is very affordable. I told her to go to D boutique but she is afraid of my father will mock her. She thinks 2,5 million is too expensive for her. Afterhat, We go to songket shop. She loves one songket and has bargained the price, I have set budget for her. She tries to bargain the more expensive one. I told her, who will pay? Oh I am so meant at that time. And I am sorry mah.

She still my mom who is not confident who wants to have marhilong2 things. The one who needs my support. She thinks that she does not have anyone in this world other than me. How can I understand her complicated relationship with my father?

She is extrovert just like me. She must go out she must talk to people and so on. Who is her truly friend? There is no one in my head. Oh my dear mom, I want to tell you that I love you so much. But now, I also want to teach you that I cannot fulfill all of your wishes not because I dont want to but I dont have source for that.

Thank you for always trust me to always support me. You were my number 1 support system for 26 years of my life. Thank you for your encouragement and the curse you made so that I can go to UI and able to work at my current firm. Thank you for all the good quality foods and education you gave to me. I know it is beyound your limit. Oh my dear mom, I know that our home is not a safe place but I know how much you try to make a safe place outside the house, you always pay my school and course fee in time, you always give me enough money so that I can buy a good food in school.

Our relation should be healed and you need to understand that I will get married soon. I am still your lovely son but you also need to understand that I will become husband and father. My priority family will change mom. I will try to support you as much as I can mom, to accompany you, to bring you to restaurant or salon once a month or in more frequent duration. Mom, thank you. Thank you so much of everything. I am sorry for being arrogant. I cannot repay all of your kindness and love as I am not obliged to help you all the time if I am not capable financially and emotionally because our relation is not transactional business but it is love. Who can pay or repay love? No one. I hope next time our relation can be healed. I love you so much oh my dear mama.

Thank you Jesus, the almighty God for letting me understand this process. Please always be with me in my heart to teach me how to respond things in good way. Thank you, God. Hope your love always be in me.

Duren Sawit, 20 Juni 2022.

[deepdarkdelights]

Lady of The Night (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Victorian Era, Time Travel, Misogyny, Jack The Ripper Murders, Forced Relationships, Forced Stripping and Dressing, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of dead bodies, Depictions of a corpse, Depictions of Wounds, Use of Drugs, Illicit Behaviors 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview:  You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. 

You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you. 

A/N: Yay! It’s my first fic up after my two week break! So, this is pertaining to the Jack The Ripper Murders. For storytelling purposes, the timeline of events has been altered as well as details of the crimes. This story may not be for everyone so please read the warnings and take them into consideration before reading. Your mental health and wellbeing should always be your number one priority. That being said, I hope you enjoy! 💜💜💜

You could see your blurry reflection in the glass of the watch face you held in your hands. 

You wiped away your tears with the heel of your palm violently as you sniffled tiredly. It had been a long day. 

You were coming to terms with the fact that you were the last living member of your family, everyone else had died and moved on. Your mother had been young when she had you, but she was also young when she left you. Mere moments after you had been given life and were brought into the world, she had departed shortly after. 

All you had ever known was the warm, comforting embrace of your grandfather. He had been more like your father your entire life and now he had left too. And all you had to remember him by was his old, Victorian house, some grainy photographs, and his pocket watch. 

Today had been the day you learned of his last will and testament, and he had left you everything he had ever owned, especially that pocket watch. He had carried it everywhere with him for as long as you could remember, the long, silver chain neatly clipped to his vest at all times. He would often remove the watch from his pocket, swiping his thumb over the sealed lid fondly before flicking it open and tracking the time. He had never once been late to anything, something he bragged about often. 

If you closed your eyes, you could visualize a scene that was not unfamiliar to you. You would be seated on the floor in a pile of pillows by the fireplace, the flames crackling and emanating a comforting warmth. The scent of black cherry tobacco wafting under your nose as your grandfather settled a thick book on his knees, pausing his reading aloud to puff at his tobacco pipe. You would giggle happily, wrapping your quilt tighter around your body as you watched him attempt to blow smoke rings. He would then slip his hand into his pocket and remove the watch, the chain clinking about as he flipped the watch open. 

“It’s almost half past nine, don’t you have school tomorrow?” He would ask you, raising one eyebrow in questioning. 

You, at ten years old, were familiar with what this meant, and you absolutely refused to head up those creaky stairs to bed when the two of you were in the middle of embarking on an adventure. 

“Please, just one more chapter!” You would beg, eyes wide and watery with a pout settled on your lips. 

“Alright,” He would concede after a long pause of faux thinking, “We do have time, don’t we?”

But that's where your grandfather was wrong. You didn’t have nearly enough time. You were twenty two when time came and took a hold of your grandfather and left you in the dust. That was the thing about time, it moved quickly and was unforgiving. Twenty two years was not enough, you were far too young when you said your last goodbyes. 

Fuck, and now you were crying again. 

You laughed humorlessly to yourself, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and wiping your tears away again. Crying would do you no good, he would want you to be happy. Death did not mean the end of a life, it meant the celebration of one, was something he had once told you. 

It was time to start celebrating then. 

You uncorked a bottle of wine, throwing the cork into the sink and having a staring match with a wine glass before you sighed and grabbed the bottle by its neck and left the room. You lit the fireplace before sitting down in your grandfather’s chair, throwing a leg up on his ottoman and taking a swig from the bottle. That made you feel a little better. 

You tilted your head back before turning your face into the fabric, the scent of black cherry tobacco still clung to the chair. Your eyes burned again with unshed tears as you nestled your head closer to it, breathing the scent in deeply before taking a longer swig of wine from the bottle. You were sure you looked pathetic. 

You groaned in irritation, the last thing you had wanted to do was throw yourself a pity party yet here you were, drowning your problems in wine like a young mom who is questioning why she didn’t use protection. 

You sat up, grabbing the neck of the bottle and setting it on the side table before standing up on weak knees. It was too weird being in that room without him. You weren’t ready to move on so quickly. So, you killed the fire and shuffled up the creaky stairs and headed to your bedroom down the hall. 

Once the door clicked shut behind you, you flung your clothes off into the corner of the room and grabbed an old, large, band shirt you tended to use as pajamas. After you slipped the raggedy fabric over your head you slid beneath your sheets, fisting the comforter in your hand and pulling it up to your nose. 

You could see the silver of the watch glinting under the moonlight on your night stand. Without much thought you reached across your bed and grabbed it, pulling it under the blanket with you. You  twirled the delicate chain around your fingers as you pressed the latched watch to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as sleep tugged at your mind. But, despite that, your head was still filled with the memories of him that you tried to shake away.

You missed him, and you wanted to go back and see him again. 

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next morning, it was to the smell of warm food wafting throughout the house. In your delirium you rolled over and buried your face into your pillow, you were sure it was just your grandfather whipping something up. 

And then you were jolting awake. There were two things you knew: one, your grandfather was a terrible cook who considered spam as breakfast, and two: he was dead. 

You shot up in bed, your sheets pooling around your waist as you cocked your head towards the door, listening in silence. You could faintly hear the sound of pots and pans clinking and the clacking of heels along the wood floor of the hallway. 

Someone was in the house. 

You snatched your phone from your bedside table and slipped free from the warmth of your bed. The pocket watch swung into your thigh, the chain still wrapped around your fingers from the night before. You kept your phone on the ready, prepared to dial the emergency line in seconds. 

When you opened the door you stuck your head out into the hallway, swinging it from right to left. You couldn’t see anybody, but the scent of food had gotten stronger. 

You allowed your door to swing shut behind you, the knob clicking with an air of finality. The floorboards were cold beneath your bare feet as you made your way down the stairs, dodging each squeaky board from years of practice. You knew this house like the back of your hand. 

Once you had descended the stairs you found yourself in the first floor hallway, the kitchen door to your right. Your eyes fluttered shut and you took in a deep breath before tensing your body with determination and flinging the door open so hard that it slammed against the wall. 

A cry of shock echoed through the kitchen, the clash of pot and pans forcing a scream from your throat in response. Standing in front of you was what appeared to be a maid, her wispy brown hair tied into a bun at the base of her neck beneath a hat matching the long black dress and crisp white apron she donned. She looked like she had been pulled straight out of the nineteenth century. 

The two of you stared at each other in shock for a moment after your scream had died down and fizzled out. Her hand laid limply on her chest over her heart as her shoulders heaved with surprised breaths. 

Her gaze flickered up and down your form, her cheeks quickly reddening at your state of undress. 

“I cannot believe this!” She suddenly cried, throwing down the spatula she held in her other hand. “I’ve told the young master numerous times to stop consorting with heathens like yourself!”

“Heathen?” You echoed in confusion. “Hold on, what the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

“In your home? The audacity! You lay with the young master once and you believe yourself to be the lady of the estate? I will not have a harlot like you traipsing around!” She yelled back. 

“Lady, what the fuck are you on? You’re the one who broke into my house! Get out!” You screamed. 

“Emmett, Emmett come quickly! The young master let in another stray!” She called.

In a matter of seconds a man entered the room dressed in a three piece suit and gloves, he looked much like a butler. 

“Again? This is the third one this month, Mary.” He sighed in disgust, eyeing your form. “The indecency of this one, running around naked.”

You were speechless, all you could do was dumbly look down at your bare legs. The shirt you wore was fairly big, it covered everything important. Still, you grabbed at the hem and harshly pulled it down further, your mouth agape at his words. 

“Come now...miss. It’ll do you little good to linger here, we wouldn’t want to get the authorities mixed up in this, they aren’t fond of your kind as you know I’m sure.” 

You couldn’t think of anything to say until he approached you, gripping your arm roughly and tugging you out of the kitchen. 

“Get your fucking hands of off me, fucker!” You yelled, struggling to free yourself from his grasp. 

He tutted to himself as he ripped the front door open, “Such colorful language and such poor manners. Well, I suppose that is to be expected from women of your status.”

“Stop!” You cried, digging your heels into the floor. “You can’t throw me out of my own house! If you don’t leave I’ll call the cops, I swear!”

The butler merely shook his head, tired and annoyed with your antics. “Have a pleasant day, and for your own sake, find yourself a husband and stay off of the streets.”

And with that, he threw you out onto the front porch and slammed the heavy, mahogany door shut, the lock clicking into place. You spent the following moments banging your fists against the door and demanding to be let back in, once you realized how futile that was you unlocked your phone and dialed the emergency line. 

But you weren’t met with anything, no ringing, no voicemail, nothing. Your face scrunched up in confusion, your phone didn’t have a signal...how was that even possible?

And that was when you realized, for certain, that something was very wrong. When you finally looked up from your phone, you were surrounded by trees. 

You stumbled backwards in surprise, knocking into the front door behind you. All of the houses that once lined your street were gone. For miles around you all you could see was a dense forest and dirt and gravel roads. Your sweet, elderly neighbors house was gone, the ice cream shop that you could once see from your house was gone, the sidewalks and the fire hydrants were missing. It was as if they had never been there in the first place. 

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself, your stomach turning and your heartbeat thundering violently in your chest.

Everything was gone, how was that possible? Where did everyone go? Where did all of the buildings go? There was no way that they could all have been decimated and replaced with trees that towered higher than your house in one night. What in the absolute fuck was happening?

You crouched down to your knees, weaving your fingers through your messy hair as panicked sobs wracked your body. You had no explanation for what was happening, you had no idea what the hell was going on. Your phone wasn’t working, you were kicked out of your own home, and everyone was missing. 

You sat there for a moment, crying to yourself in a complete and utter panic before you realized that you needed to at least try and find someone who could help you. You allowed yourself a few more moments to squeeze out some more tears, heave your last sobs, and dry your wet face. You had done a lot of crying the past few days, enough tears to last you a lifetime. It was time to get to work now and figure out what was going on. 

So, you stepped foot onto the manicured lawn before you and made your way to the dilapidated road ahead of you. The dirt and gravel dug into the bare skin of your feet causing you to wince and jump in pain. It was better and easier to walk alongside the road rather than on it. 

The more you walked, and the further you walked, it became apparent that it was not only your street that had suffered changes overnight, but your entire town. What had once been a shopping district you frequented often in your teens was now a sea of never-ending trees. You hadn’t seen this much greenery since you went hiking years ago. 

The home that you remembered was much different from the sights you were seeing now. Your house had been the only Victorian on the street, the others newer builds that had popped up over the decades. It looked like any other street you had ever seen, an amalgamation of history in a couple blocks. But now, it appeared to be a clean slate, devoid of noise, devoid of life, and devoid of structure. 

In an eerie way, you felt like you were at the beginning of time, back before humanity had cultivated the earth and turned vibrant greenery into concrete jungles. It was as beautiful and it was lonely, if you hadn’t had that run in with the maid and the butler earlier, you could have assumed you were the only person on earth. How startling and stifling that would have been, to be just a house plopped in the middle of nowhere, with not a person in sight. 

It was not unlike how you felt now, alone walking alongside an empty road surrounded by trees. You could feel the miles passing as dirt clung to the soles of your feet, the skin burning in protest as you continued walking aimlessly in search of any signs of another person or house in the area. 

The thick layer of dark clouds hanging in the sky was not doing anything for your mood. You were certain you would be doomed to spend the day or possibly even the night in the trees trying to take cover from the onslaught of rain that was sure to come. 

And, just as you had predicted, all it took was one roll of thunder through the sky before the clouds let loose a torrent of rain. Your only saving grace was that the rainfall was not ice cold, but lukewarm. Your other concern was that where there was thunder, there would be lightning. At least you weren’t the tallest thing in the area though, a tree was more likely to be struck than you were. But that would be the cherry on top of your shitty day wouldn’t it, to be struck by lighting as well? 

But, just as your hopes were about as low and hell, you spotted something in the distance. The structure was familiar, you were certain you had seen those peaked roofs and stone walls many times before. Yesterday you had been driving on the highway when you passed the country club, and now you were certain that’s where you were. Where you stood now and once been home to a highway, and mere miles away was the country club you had passed everyday on your way to work. 

If you were lucky, the staff would take pity on you and maybe you could shower and get some food in you before you called the authorities to deal with those intruders of yours. 

By the time you finally made it up to the country club, you were completely soaked to the bone. The only pieces of clothing you had on, being your underwear and your oversized t-shirt, were drenched with water. You looked like a drowned rat if you were being honest with yourself. 

But, even in your panicked and miserable state, you took notice of a few things. The signs that once held directions and the name of the club were gone, nothing there that even hinted at their prior existence. The parking lot was long gone as well, not to mention the caged in tennis courts and the golf grounds. It was all missing. The only thing that stood as familiar to you was the large, Victorian manor itself, and the grand water fountain in the center of the roundabout. This roundabout was made of gravel though, instead of the cement you remembered it being. And, to your disdain, the tiny pieces of gravel had returned to puncture the delicate skin of our feet once more. 

You were tired, you were cranky, and you were wet. All you wanted to do at this point was run inside and collapse on the polished floor.  

You sped over the gravel as fast as you could before running up the stone steps, sliding under the cover of the roof that was fixed over the front door. You raised your hand up and curled your numb fingers around the door knocker. And, with difficulty, you swung the door knocker against the rich wood of the front door frantically. If there was a doorbell you would have been annoyingly ringing it nonstop, so you had to settle for banging the door knocker violently instead. 

While you were mid swing the door was ripped open violently, your soaked form almost being tugged inside as you were still attached to the knocker. A man stood in front of you, he too was dressed in a three piece suit, gloves adorning his hands and polished oxfords sitting under the hem of his pant legs. His suit was much finer than the butler’s from before, but the expression on his face was just as, if not even more, stern than the butler that came before him. 

“Please,” You huffed out, using your best pleading gaze. “I need help.”

“I think you are mistaken, miss. I do not believe you have any business with the master of this estate.” He responded coolly, a harsh edge to his tone. 

“Wait please!” You cried as he backed away and attempted to shut the door. You gripped the door frame, wedging your arm in place to keep it from closing. “I just need to use your phone.”

“I’m sorry miss, but -”

“Claude? Who’s at the door?” Another voice echoed from inside. 

“Please, can I come in for just a second?!” You called inside as you heard the click of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Master, I think it would be best if you let me take care of this.” 

“It’s alright, Claude, step aside.” The voice responded. The butler, Claude, edged away from the door in uncertainty before disappearing inside the depths of the club. 

Seconds later, a new man replaced him, opening the door much wider than the butler had. Your heart dropped into your stomach in astonishment and embarrassment. He was probably the most attractive man you had ever had the privilege of seeing and for a moment you were convinced you had fallen into an alternate universe because all of the men you had seen on a daily basis were nothing in comparison to him. 

He was rather tall with tan skin, dark hair, and a set of dangerous dimples. It took everything in you to restrain yourself from delicately poking one of those smooth craters in his cheeks that was calling out to you. 

With a sudden jolt you realized he had been staring at you just as intently as you had been staring at him. His lips had parted and his eyes had darkened. You could feel his gaze traveling over the dips of your collarbones and the exposed flesh of your legs and arms before settling on the thin fabric that stretched over your chest. 

Heat instantly flooded beneath the skin of your face, your arms crossing over your chest. In your moment of hysteria you had forgotten your lack of bra and the rain. You were sure this man had seen more than you had wanted to show him. 

His tongue swiped over his lower lip at your action, his dark, half lidded eyes flicking up to meet your own in a rather sensual stare. 

“Are you a lady of the night?” He asked, his voice deeper than before. 

Ah, that was a term that you had become rather accustomed to today. Well it’s synonyms at least: heathen, harlot, and now lady of the night. 

“No!” You cried in frustration, you had no issues with sex workers, what you did have an issue with was that because of your state of dress everyone had come to assume you were looking for some!

“Please, I just need help.” You sighed, your shoulders dropping from the stress you had endured all day. 

The look in his eyes had all but disappeared after your omission of the truth. You were not a lady of the night, you were just scared, confused, and in need of help. 

“Come inside.” He said, opening the door wider. 

You looked up at him in surprise, shocked to see a gentle smile gracing his lips. Before he could regret offering you shelter, you hastily entered the front room, your arms still wrapped securely around you as you felt the warmth of the building rush through you. 

Yet again, though, you noticed things were different. The front desk was gone, the signs pointing to the bathrooms and the changing rooms were missing, and there weren’t any people other than yourself and the man that stood before you.

“Where is everyone?” You asked him, turning to face the man as he closed the door behind the two of you. 

“What do you mean?” He asked you, equally as confused as you were. 

“This is a country club...where are all of the guests?” 

“Country club?” He laughed, his dimples becoming more prominent as his eyes filled with mirth. “This is my home, there isn’t a country club for miles.”

“What?” You whispered to yourself, the water from your shirt sliding off of you and tapping against the wood of the floor rhythmically. 

“They’re still fairly new after all, not many around here I’m afraid. You must be lost then?” He mused. 

“What do you mean they’re new? They’ve been around for years, this is one. I’ve been here numerous times!” You explained, exasperated. 

“Are you feeling well, miss?” He asked, stepping closer to you without letting his gaze wander as it had before. 

No, you weren’t feeling well at all, you were incredibly fucking confused. What he was saying didn’t make any sense, none at all. Country clubs weren’t new, they had been around for over a century now. 

And that was when it all began to make sense. All of the pieces suddenly had fallen into place. All the houses on your street were gone, the shopping center, the highway, the signs and the parking lot were missing from the country club. Your phone was unable to get a signal in the hours that had passed. You had encountered four strangers that spoke in a manner you had not heard often and dressed like they were from a different era. 

“What - what year is it?” You asked, your body trembling now from anxiety and from your wet shirt. 

“1891, of course.” He responded, his face appearing even more confused than it had before. He was looking at you in concern as well, he wasn’t sure why you would be asking him such an obvious and ridiculous question. 

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say as you began to stumble backwards, your legs going weak underneath you as you slumped to the ground. Your vision was focusing and un-focusing, your head feeling light as you could faintly hear his panicked voice in front of you. It was beginning to sound further and further away though as your bare thighs met the cold, wood floor beneath you. 

You were having a stressful day.

~~~~~~~

When you woke it was to a cold compress against your forehead and the feeling of a plush mattress beneath you. For a moment you thought that you were at home again, that the past few hours had all been some fever dream and your grandfather was taking care of you in your state. 

But the feeling of the thin, silver chain still wrapped around your fingers assured you otherwise. That had not been a dream in the slightest. 

You jerked forward, the cold cloth flying onto your lap as your hands scrambled across the top of the duvet reflexively searching for your phone. 

“It’s alright, relax, you’ll only worsen your condition!” A voice seethed as hands settled on your shoulders and coaxed you back against the pillows behind you. 

It was him again, the man with the dimples. 

“You have a fever, it won’t do you any good to move around too much.” He lectured you, his hand waving around as he scolded you. 

You quickly caught sight of something wrapped up in his ringed fingers, it was your phone. 

“Give that back!” You yelled, snatching your phone back from his hands and holding it tight against your chest. You were glad that your phone was password protected, not that he would ever know what to do with it even if he managed to unlock it by accident. 

“What is it exactly?” He asked you as he relented, taking a seat in a chair that had been moved to your bedside. 

“It’s none of your business, that’s what it is.” You replied, shooting him a look that he reciprocated with shock and astoundment. He probably had never been spoken to like that before, a man with what you could only assume held power, status, and wealth. There was a part of you while still shocked at your predicament enjoyed the idea of fucking with some rich people. 

“As a guest in my home I think I have every right to know.” He shot back with a quirk of his brow, jerking his chin up. 

The audacity. So, as petty as it was, you refused to dignify his statement with a response. 

“Fine, if you won’t tell me then I’ll have to assume you don’t know what it is either and you stole it just like you did that watch. It’s to be expected of someone of your...nature.” He insinuated, his gaze flicking over your form from head to toe.

“My nature?” You replied, your skin going hot with untapped irritation. 

“Well, a prostitute of course.” He answered with such certainty it made you want to scream. 

“For fuck’s sake how many times do I have to say I’m not!” You yelled, throwing your head back against the pillows. 

“Well of course you are, with that way you looked coming up here you were practically naked, how could you not be a pros-”

“First of all,” you interrupted, “The proper term is sex worker and you have no right judging women who have no other choice and even if they did choose it you still have no right to demean them for taking up a profession that employs a service and receives payment for it like any other job!” 

“Secondly, the manner in which I am dressed does not mean you get to make baseless assumptions about me or my job without knowing why I look this way in the first place.”

He sat there for a moment, stunned. A long pause of silence passed between the two of you before a smile split across his face, those dimples returning in full force. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Did I ask?” You retorted, annoyed, and overall confused from his sudden change in demeanor. A voice echoed in the back of your mind that maybe he had a thing for women putting him in his place but you quickly shoved that down in embarrassment. 

“Well it’s only proper, you’re already in my bed anyways I figured you should know my name.” He replied with a boyish smirk.

You choked in confusion and shock before softly muttering your name in response. You did owe him that much, he had taken you in and taken care of you. That was the only thing you would give him though, his prior attitude still stung. 

“I’d like to inform you that despite your progressive thoughts not everyone will see eye to eye with you, miss. You’re lucky you found your way here, there’s a murderer stalking these streets.”

“A murderer?” You echoed, your blood chilling in your veins. 

“You don’t know of Jack the Ripper? That’s what the public titled him at least.” He explained. 

Holy shit, the timing was perfect. Namjoon had told you the year was 1891, whatever had caused your slip through time sent you right back into the tailend of the Jack the Ripper murders. You had been lucky that he hadn’t stumbled across you, because despite your beliefs that your attire didn’t mean anything, everyone you had met had mistaken you for a sex worker. It would be expected that the infamous ripper himself would have thought the same and your name would have joined the list of victims. 

That was too close of a call for you. 

“Has he killed recently?” You asked out of morbid curiosity, you were hoping, selfishly, that you had arrived after his last victim. 

“He’s been rather active, I should know, I’m the one investigating him.” He said, a look of irritation falling over his features as he crossed his leg over the other, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“You’re an officer, then?” You asked. 

He responded with an annoyed snort, rolling his eyes. “Thankfully no, I’m more of a private investigator. I’ve been employed by some officials high in the government to do the work the police have been ruining as of late. How embarrassing, three years and they still haven’t managed to pin the murderer.”

Ah, so you had struck a nerve. He didn’t like the police, noted. 

“Tell me more.” You probed, your genuine curiosity winning over your unease. 

Namjoon appeared to gather himself, his gaze that had once been far off returning to you. “Detail such grizzly deaths to a lady? I’m afraid not.”

“Where I come from we don’t take sexism lightly, Namjoon. And, not to mention, I’m a journalist. Trust me, I can handle it.” What you said was true, as a journalist you were receiving a once in a lifetime opportunity, you were given the chance to witness the investigation of the world’s most well known cold case.  

“You’re a strange woman, unlike any other I’ve ever met before.” He said softly, an amused light in his eyes.

“You’d be surprised just how much we are capable of.” You shot back. 

“Fair enough,” He smiled, enthralled with the back and forth the two of you had engaged in. “I’ll tell you more in my study, I’ll send for a maid to help you dress.” He said before standing up and heading towards the bedroom door. 

“I’m interested to hear your thoughts.” He called over his shoulder before the door clicked shut. 

As soon as he left, you felt like you could breathe freely, a deep exhale of air passing between your lips.

So, you had slipped through time. Your thumb rested between your lips as you nervously chewed at your nail. You were coming to terms with the fact that somehow, some way, you had retreated into the year 1891. The next issue that you needed to resolve was how you were going to get back to your own timeline. You didn't belong here, that was for sure. Just from your previous conversation with Namjoon you knew that you were drastically different from anyone of this era. At this point, you were sure that was bound to get you in some sort of trouble. It was probably best to lay low around people other than Namjoon who had already been exposed to your modern ideals.

As you sat, stewing in your thoughts, a series of gentle knocks echoed from the door to the bedroom. You peeled the sheets away from your body and stilled for a moment. Somebody had changed your clothes. Where you had once worn your faded tour shirt you were now dressed in a long, flowing, silk nightgown that just brushed the tops of your toes. It was rather pretty and ridiculously comfortable but that didn't lessen your anxiety from having a new state of dress from what you had passed out in.

Another set of knocks, less gentle ones this time, spurred you to move faster. As soon as your bare feet met the plush carpet beneath you, you rushed to the door. Upon opening it, a maid stood there. She held a few items in her arms, her face obscured by the dense pile of fabric she cradled. Without saying a word you moved aside and held the door open for her. You could faintly hear her mumble out a weak thank you, muffled by what she held.

She shuffled over to the bed and dropped everything on top of the mattress with a heave that swung her small body with it.

"Alright, Miss. Are you ready?" She asked, turning to face you with a pleasant smile.

"Ready for what exactly?" You replied.

"Well, to dress you of course."

Your face flushed in embarrassment, that was something you had conveniently forgotten, people of higher status like your host did not dress themselves in this period.

"Oh, that's alright, I can manage on my own."

"Are you certain?" She asked, an apprehensive look crossing her features as she stopped laying out the clothing items, her hands halting over a corset.

Fuck.

"On second thought I would love the help." Yeah, there was no fucking way you were learning to lace that thing on your own.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a struggle it would have been to dress yourself had you not appreciated the help the maid had given you. In Victorian fashion, layers were undeniable and you couldn’t help but flinch at the thought of how hot these women had to get in the warmer months. 

You had also assumed the corset would have been troublesome, given how you always heard about its bad rep via movies and literature. In reality, it was quite comfortable. It wasn’t overbearingly tight and you could breathe perfectly fine without a single hint of dizziness. You couldn’t help but ask the maid about this in astonishment. 

She giggled as she smoothed your dress, “Tightlacing you mean? Why, is there someone you’re trying to impress?”

Your face burned with heat at her insinuation, “No, no, I was just curious.”

“It is quite fashionable, but not very practical, no?” She said with a hint of a smile as she stepped back from you. “Well, if that’s all you’ll be needing of me the master is waiting for you in his study, would you like me to escort you? It’s not very far.”

“Oh no, I’m sure I’ve distracted you enough, if you could just point the way that’d be very much appreciated.” 

“Of course!” She chirped, guiding you into the hallway of the manor. “Just head straight down that way, it’s the door at the very end of the hall!”

“Thank you for all of your help.” You smiled gratefully before your turn and began your walk through the hallway. 

The manor was gorgeous with pane glass windows that stretched from the length of the floor to just below the ceiling that were framed with thick, velvet curtains. The floor beneath your shoes was parquet and a deep mahogany that shone proudly in the daylight that filtered into the hallway. You had not seen all of the manor but you knew, just from this glimpse, that the rest of it radiated wealth and power just like its master. 

The clicking of your shoes against the polished hardwood echoed down the length of the corridor as you approached the doors to the study. You had never been to this floor of the manor in your timeline, it had been long since roped off and only elite members were allowed access. Now, it appeared you could roam freely to your heart's content. 

Your knuckles brushed against the door, three knocks in quick succession sounding out into the quiet hallways and study. 

“Come in.” Namjoon called, his voice steady yet distracted. 

You pulled the heavy doors open and slipped into the study. Upon entering you noticed a number of things, for one the study resembled that of a library. The space was vast with bookshelves towering over you as well as everything else in the room. 

Namjoon was seated behind a desk, his fingers resting at his temples while he flipped through a set of papers placed on the surface of the table. While the rest of the manor had appeared clean, almost sterile really, this space had gone untouched by the staff. Various books laid open or bookmarked on the floors, couches, and his desk. 

Upon further inspection you noticed textbooks and medical journals strewn about, anatomy pages glaring back at you. 

“Are you a doctor, Namjoon?” You asked, lifting one of the textbooks up to get a closer look at what he had been reading. 

“A doctor?” He laughed, “I consider myself to be more of a scholar, really-”

Whatever else he had meant to say ceased, the words failing to part his lips. He was looking at you again, not unlike the way he had looked at you when you had appeared on his doorstep scantily clad and drowning in a torrent of rain. 

He made you uncomfortable. 

“Look at you, looking like a lady. You could have fooled me if I did not know any better.” He said, the corner of his lips tugging up into a sarcastic grin. 

“Such a gentleman.” You huffed with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “If you’re not a doctor then what is the point in reading things like this?”

“To catch a killer, you must think like a killer.” He hummed, tapping the tip of his forefinger against the side of his head. 

“You’ll never catch him.” You said, the words escaping you before you could even think about the repercussions they would have. 

“And why would you think that?” He asked, his eyes narrowing with a challenging look to them, the irises were dark and sent a cold chill down the length of your spine. 

“Call it intuition.” You replied, thinking quickly on your feet. “If countless others who are far more qualified and knowledgeable have failed to find him, it’s improbable one individual will bring him down.” 

You had unknowingly just challenged his intellect, if this were a dance you would have quite literally just stepped on your partner's toes. 

Namjoon stood quickly, his chair shooting back as he rounded the desk and approached you. You stumbled backwards in surprise but did not manage to dodge him as he matched your pace. His hands had settled on your waist, spinning you around to pull you back into his chest. 

His voice was soft and mellow beside your ear as he spoke, “Each victim was a prostitute, all found in the east end of town. Already there is a location and a motive, no?” 

“Now, here is what I find interesting.” He hummed, swiftly gripping your chin and pushing your head back onto his shoulder. His fingers ever so lightly brushed down the column of your throat before drawing a line across it from left to right. 

“Immediately he slits their throat, and right after? Disembowelment.” He said, his other hand that was settled on your waist migrated to your lower abdomen, his fingers caressing another line over the clothed flesh. 

“Most people, those ‘investigators’ for example, would say he hates women. But on the contrary, I think he is quite fascinated. With every murder he takes something that is uniquely theirs, would you happen to know what that is?” 

“Their womb.” You managed to say. You were trembling and you were certain that he could feel it. He was scaring you, the reality of your situation was suddenly becoming rather apparent. 

That could have been you. 

“Exactly, and to do something like that you would need some medical background, especially considering the speed and technique with which he does it.” He confirmed, his hands resting on your waist once more, this time turning you to face him. 

“So, if I were a ripper who was fascinated by women, where would I be?”

“Well...everywhere?” You replied, stepping out of his hold.

“Yes and no. We have a pattern and a motive, someone who is targeting prostitutes in the East End. My money would be on a hub for illicit activities, and with my sources I have a clue as to where he will strike next.”

That piqued your interest. “And where would that be?”

“If I know anything, it’s that the rich don’t like to follow rules and love a good party. Every now and then viscounts, dukes, and aristocrats alike will gather and dabble in illicit activities together. These parties change location every now and again, but most commonly we see them in the East End. Chances are, we can find a doctor with devious intentions at the hub of them. So, do I seem qualified to you?”

“This was your way of proving your capability to me?” You huffed, shaking your head. 

“Yes, and it appeared to work.” He smiled, leaning back against his desk with his arms spread behind him on  its surface. 

“Well, luckily for you, I’m interested.” You responded, jutting your chin out as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Interested?” He echoed.

“If you want to catch a killer, what better way is there to do so than draw him out?”

“You’re offering yourself as bait? Are you neurotic?!” He laughed, shaking his head from side to side as he popped off of his desk. “Do you really think I would allow that in good conscience?” 

“I don’t need your permission to do anything, Namjoon. What I am offering is an agreement of mutual satisfaction. You get a way to bait the killer and I get the story of a lifetime.”

You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. 

You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you. 

“So, do we have a deal? You asked, extending your hand out to him. 

The silence that hung between the two of you was unsettling. His dark eyes lingered on your hand for a moment before flicking up to your face and back down. His lips were pursed in thought and you could tell he was debating with himself heavily. There was a soft ringing in your ears as the quiet stretched on. 

A sudden smile spread over his face, one that you thought almost appeared devious. He laughed to himself and then shook his head before breaching the space between you and gripping your much smaller hand in his own. He gave your hand a firm shake before tugging you forwards and pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand with a grin. 

“We have a deal.” He confirmed. 

“What a fucking flirt.” You grumbled to yourself beneath your breath, anxiously sliding your hand over the fabric of your skirt. “So, when will this party take place?”

“One week from now.” He said, raising his hand to hold up one finger. 

That was much longer than you had wanted to spend in the Victorian era. Far much longer. 

“And what will we do in the meantime?” 

“Well investigate, of course.”

~~~~~~~

Days had passed in Namjoon’s company, and for all of the investigating the three of you (Namjoon, Claude, and yourself) had done, no results were accomplished. But, on the other hand no murders had been committed in the East End. 

You were halfway through the week until the party, and despite your efforts there was absolutely nothing. You were becoming as frustrated as the inhabitants of the East End as well as your fellow investigators. Among all of your “resources,” you were caught at a dead end just as the police were. 

You had heard of Jack the Ripper in your youth, you were once an avid true crime fan. But, for the life of you, you could not remember who the next victim was and where their corpses would be found. And for all you knew, protecting that individual would only cause someone else to lose their life. Time was tricky and fickle, and if it was set in stone, it did not matter who would die so long as someone was drafted into the void. 

You assumed. 

Your host had been...strange, to put it simply. You had thought to yourself that that was just in his nature, he was easily distracted, unfocused, yet insanely intelligent. But his mannerisms were unusual. He seemed completely unfazed by the case he had been assigned to, the only moments in which he showed a visceral response were when he dealt with you, or the police force. He hated them intensely, you could only assume because of how ineptly they were handling the case itself. 

And, most frequently, you found yourself going head to head with him. And boy, did he enjoy the challenge. And, if you were bold enough to admit it, you would say he derived pleasure from the arguments the two of you would get into. He would constantly fix you with that confident smirk, the one that told you he believed he was always one step ahead of you. And fuck, did it piss you off. And he was very much aware of that. He loved a good challenge and you were far different from any of the women he knew of. 

He often wondered how far he could push you before you snapped. 

And if his cocky behavior wasn’t enough to piss you off, it was how much of a blatant flirt he was. There was nothing more frustrating than someone arguing with you while flirting with you at the same time. And your constant refusal and rebuttal to his advances only seemed to fuel the fire. 

The cover of night time became your one refuge, that was when you had an excuse to stay away from him. You could have the whole night to yourself and be free of him until the morning. 

Usually. 

Normally, you slept through the night. But for some reason your body woke you. It was either late at night or extremely early in the morning. No sunlight entered the room, it was still incredibly dark. 

At first, everything appeared to be perfectly normal. That was of course until you noticed a figure seated in the chair by your window mere feet away. You immediately jumped and began to scramble backwards out of the bed, the sheets twisting around your legs and slowing you down. 

It was the call of your name that made you freeze. 

Namjoon was sitting in your room at an ungodly hour...watching you. 

“Namjoon?” You hissed, pulling the sheets back up to your chin. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” He answered, pressing his palms onto the armrests and pushing himself up to stand. 

“I really wish you would have.” You grunted, pulling the blanket around you even tighter. “Do you know how creepy you -”

“Two more women are dead.”

Silence. 

“What happened?” You whispered, your fingers going limp. 

“One woman was murdered late last night and the other an hour ago. It was a double event.” His tone was flat, completely absent of affect. 

The three of you could only hold him off for so long, and it looks like he lashed out as soon as he was given the chance. Two women within the span of a few hours were killed, and you couldn’t help but feel like that was your fault. 

No matter what you do, someone will die. 

“What do we do now?” You asked, sullenly looking to him from your point on the bed. 

“We have to go meet with the authorities.” He answered, distaste evident in his voice when he uttered the word ‘authorities.’ 

“Come, we don’t have much time.” He urged you, snapping the sheets back to the foot of the bed while pulling you up to your feet. 

You stumbled as he tugged you forward, your head spinning from the sudden motion. You were struggling to see, your eyes still heavy with sleep despite the dreadful news you had heard. The feeling of his hands at the back of your nightdress certainly shocked you awake. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You snapped, smacking his hands away from you. 

He appeared frustrated, his eyes dark and his face set in irritation at your refusal. “I just told you, we don’t have much time. All of the maids are still asleep, it’s far too early to call one of them for help and you certainly don’t know how to dress yourself.”

“I can manage on my own, I don’t need your ‘help’.” You argued, stepping away from him in an attempt to create some distance between the two of you. “You don’t know the first thing about women’s clothes anyways.”

His jaw tensed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before releasing an annoyed sigh. “Trust me I have undone a few corsets in my time, it’s not as difficult as you make it out to be.” 

“And just as I said, I can dress myself I am not a fucking child.” 

Before you could move his arm shot forward and his hand wrapped around your forearm tightly. Despite your struggling he yanked you towards him, his other hand gripping your elbow. 

“As stupid and insufferable as you like to think I am, I know you are not from here.” He said, his voice low and dangerously quiet. “You don’t speak, act, or even walk like you are from here. The more you hide from me the harder this is going to be. You need help, now you can either be a brat and I have to force you to do as I say, or you can play along and we can get this done and get to work. It’s up to you.”

He had just told you he knew you were a time traveler without explicitly saying it. At least that was the way you took it. But the way in which he spoke to you did not seem to insinuate that he meant that you were a foreigner. Many of your interactions with him would have led him to believe you were from a different time and, not to mention, you had done a terrible job of hiding your phone from him the first day you arrived. You had done a poor job of concealing that from someone as smart as him. 

“And what if I don’t want you to see me?” You tried one last time. 

“It wouldn’t be anything I haven’t already seen.”

So, he was the one who had changed you the first day you had arrived in 1891. There were many red flags waving in the back of your head, and like an idiotic bull you had failed to recognize a single one of them. Some journalist you were, you had missed all of the finite details. 

“Turn around.” He finally said, his voice firm. 

And, with no other choice, you did. It was incredibly awkward on your end. Despite the attractiveness of your host, you had no desire for him to strip and dress you. Unfortunately for you, he did not care. You understood the urgency to leave and your little spat had already delayed your departure. But you were a person who valued your dignity and autonomy, you weren’t built to live in a society such as this one. 

You tried your best not to focus on the feeling of his touch, but it was incredibly hard to ignore. Instead of touching you as little as possible, it felt like he took every chance to caress, graze, and linger on every inch of bared skin. 

For a moment, all movement stilled. You were only halfway dressed, your corset exposing everything upwards of your chest leaving your collarbones, arms, shoulders, and neck on display. You shuddered at the sudden feeling of fingers smoothing over the column of your throat, not unlike the incident in Namjoon’s study. 

He was absolutely quiet as he pressed his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, softly breathing in and out as his fingers continued to stroke the skin of your throat from left to right in a gentle, slow, sawing motion. Your heart was pumping frantically in your chest in what could only be described as fear. Your back was ramrod straight, a harsh line in comparison to the relaxed form behind you. 

Why were you so afraid of him? It was like every nerve and muscle in your form was begging you to leap away and run for your life. But he wasn’t dangerous, right?

You jolted at the feeling of lips just brushing against your shoulder as he pulled away from you and finished helping you dress, far quicker than he had been before. His demeanor was suddenly resigned, professional, and cold. It was like he had suddenly mustered a sense of self control in mere seconds. 

Who exactly was Kim Namjoon?

Said man was retreating in the direction of your bedroom door, his hand grasping the doorknob as he called over his shoulder, “Meet me out front, and please be quick about it.”

That was when a thought suddenly intruded your mind. 

“Namjoon? How did you get into my room? The door was locked.”

He stiffened for a moment, his hand tightening around the doorknob causing the muscle to strain and his knuckles to whiten. He said nothing, his head jerked to the side for a moment like he was gesturing in disbelief. 

He raised his head and stared at you, and then without saying anything, he left. 

~~~~~~~

You stared at the face of your pocket watch, the delicate chain wrapped around your gloved fingers. The hands of the watch were still, the familiar ticking of the watch was silent. It was like time had completely stopped. And in a way, maybe it had. 

The carriage halted to a stop spurring you to snap the watch cover closed and pin it back into place. 

Your companion quickly exited and stood outside, reaching his hand out to you to help guide you from the compartment. Despite the sudden animosity between the two of you, you placed your hand in his own and allowed him to help you down. The layered skirts of your dress swirled around your ankles, they were heavy and made it hard to climb in and out of transportation. Begrudgingly, you managed to say your thanks between gritted teeth. 

“Try to behave.” He whispered beside your ear offering his arm to you. 

You hooked your arm into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead the way. If you had it your way you would be fifteen feet in front of him carving your own path through the East End. But, your lack of knowledge of Victorian etiquette had already managed to get you in trouble and the last thing that you needed was more trouble. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, quickening your pace to match his long strides. 

“The previous crime scene has already been cleaned up by the task force, but the one from this morning is still intact. I have been instructed to go over their findings as well as conduct my own investigation.” He explained. 

“Alright, what can I do?” 

“What you can do is stay right here.” He instructed, bringing the two of you to a stop at the mouth of a narrow alleyway. It was already blocked off, warning the public to steer clear of the area. 

“You have to be kidding? You really expect me to wait here for you while you go and investigate? I don’t take kindly to being told to just sit and look pretty, Namjoon.” You glared. 

Namjoon titled his head back and let out a sound of annoyance, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically with an exasperated sigh. “For once, will you please listen to me? This is an active investigation and I am asking you, a civilian, to stay put. I swear, I will tell you everything you need to know for your story, alright?” 

Another bitter silence passed between the two of you. He knew you were incredibly dissatisfied with what he had said. But he was just as stubborn as you were, that being the reason the two of you butted heads so often. 

He shook his head, jaw tensed with anger as he stepped away from you heading in the direction of the alley way. 

“Stay put!” He called over his shoulder, waving his hand at you as he disappeared, his form melting into the darkness of the alley that had yet to see the glow of the early morning sunrise. 

Now that, that pissed you off. You were not some dog that would obey his every command, the more he told you not to do something the more it made you want to do it. 

You waited for a few moments, for his sake and for the very fact that it would piss him off that you refused to listen. You were an impatient woman, and you would be damned if you listened to a single thing he said. 

The air was crisp and cool with the lack of sunlight, your breath fogging the space in front of you as you slunk down the dark alleyway. You could hear Namjoon’s voice echoing down the brick tunnel, he sounded enraged. There were several other voices attempting to speak over him, but they were evidently failing. 

And then there was the smell, it was horrid. The cramped space was packed full of the scent, it was indescribable. The only prominent smell that was familiar was the tangy, coppery odor of blood thick in the morning air. 

But what you hadn’t been expecting was that the body was still there, slumped against the ground haphazardly like it was nothing more than trash. An officer was still there, knelt down next to her body. He was prodding her flesh with a grimace, holding a handkerchief over his nose to block out the scent. 

“Christ, she’s still warm!” He called out, jumping up to head back to the investigators while giving you a full view of the carnage laid out before you. “He could still be close by!”

Multiple sensations bombarded you at once. A scream was caught in your throat as your stomach began to churn from the sight before you. You raised a gloved hand to cover your nose and mouth as you leaned against the wall, your knees feeling weak. 

It was bad, worse than you could have possibly imagined. 

There was blood, more blood than you had ever seen in your entire life. And whatever it was that was laying before you just barely looked human. But the parts that did look familiar was what made it so unsettling, so wrong, so horrifying. 

Namjoon was calling your name. 

You were still in shock when he grabbed you, his hand cupping the back of your neck and forcing your face into his chest blocking the grotesque view you once had. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders, cradling you closer to him. 

“Her...her face.” You stuttered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“Are you that inept at your jobs that you couldn’t keep a civilian from entering a fucking crime scene?!” He yelled over your head, his voice vibrating deep in his chest. 

“I told you to stay put.” He mumbled, his lips pressed to the crown of your head while his thumb stroked the side of your face as you shook in his hold. This was the gentlest he had ever been with you. 

You had never seen anything like that before. Whatever words he had spoken were falling on deaf ears, a sharp ring was echoing throughout your head, numb tears streaking your face and ruining his jacket. 

You could feel his hands slide to the curve of your jaw, forcing your head up to look at him and only him. 

“From now on, you listen to me, okay?” He said, his eyes darting over your face to make sure you were retaining what he was saying. 

You weren’t sure what was more concerning to you. The fact that he was suddenly so gentle with you, or the fact that he paid no mind to the corpse mere feet away from the two of you. 

There was something wrong with Kim Namjoon. 

~~~~~~~

Whatever investigation Namjoon had managed to conduct during your moments of shellshock provided nothing new. The choice of murder was the same, albeit the brutality was by far the worst of all the victims before. 

Her body had been warm indicating the perpetrator could still have been close by, but despite that knowledge the search parties could not find the culprit that had been described. There was no man covered in blood hiding in the shadows of the East End, he had disappeared like he had never been there in the first place. 

A few days after the murder had taken place, Namjoon had informed you the killer had made contact. His face was grim as he described what had transpired. A letter and a parcel had arrived addressed to the taskforce, inside was what appeared to be a human kidney and a letter signed with a flourish, “Jack The Ripper.”

He was playing with them. 

Your dreams were plagued with the memories of the sights you had seen that day in the early morning light of the alleyway. And instead of forcing you into submission, it made you angry. The initial sight had rendered you imobile, weak, and defenseless. You had never seen a human look like that. But with each dream you dreamt as the week melted away, you festered in guilt and rage. 

Your fellow Victorian journalists had called him a monster, but you knew better. He was not a monster, he was a coward preying on women in the veil of darkness. Cowards harmed the weak and the defenseless, he was a caricature of a monster. 

And you wanted nothing more than to rip the Halloween mask off of that faux monster. 

This thought is what lent you strength as you and Namjoon reentered the East End, prepared to once and for all unmask the killer that had escaped the two of you. 

You were dressed expensively, and rather salaciously, to blend in with the aristocrats around you. Namjoon and Claude appeared comfortable in the environment and it made you wonder if this had not been their first time attending an illicit party. Namjoon had explained to you before that he was often hired by government officials to do the jobs the police often failed to do, so it would not be unexpected if he had been there more than once. 

You were bombarded by various sights that had you sticking close to your companions. When Namjoon said “illicit” parties, he meant it. The amount of illegal activities taking place was astounding. No matter where you looked, something was going on. Various partygoers were drinking unmarked liquids, inhaling unidentified substances, or swapping large amounts of money for some unknown service (although you had an inkling as to what they may be). 

At one point in the night you had tried to locate a bathroom only for Namjoon to pull you away from the door you had attempted to open. 

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” He said with an all knowing, tight lipped grin. 

“Really, and why not?” You asked, your hand resting on your cinched waist. 

“I didn’t picture you as one for...group activities.” 

“Group activities...there’s an orgy in there?!” You whisper yelled, frantically wiping your hand on your skirts with wide eyes. 

Namjoon wheezed out a laugh, guiding you away from the room and back towards the center of the pseudo ballroom. “What can I say, this is a sinner’s paradise.” 

“Sinner’s paradise, more like Chlamydia’s Palace.” You huffed, your cheeks hot. 

Namjoon laughed again only to be stopped by the presence of his butler, Claude. His hand concealed his mouth as he whispered something to Namjoon. Whatever it was he said seemed to please Namjoon while also provoking an indescribable look to wash over his handsome features.

As soon as Claude stepped back, Namjoon spoke. “I need you to stay right here, okay? Don’t talk to anyone, don’t drink anything, just keep to yourself until I return.” 

Your eyebrows pinched together in irritation and confusion, “But, Namjoon -”

“Remember what happened the last time you refused to listen to me?” He snapped, raising his eyebrows in emphasis. 

You pressed your lips together, turning your head to the side. Yes, you did remember what had happened the last time you ignored his instructions. 

Namjoon sighed, propping his finger under your chin and turning your head to look at him. “Please, trust me on this one thing.”

You thought to yourself for a moment, the last time you didn’t listen it hadn’t exactly gone well for you. This was just one thing he was asking of you after all of the things he had done for you, he was asking for just one moment of cooperation. 

You lowered his hand from your chin and took a breath. “Okay, I trust you.” 

A look of pure elation erupted on his face. He gave you a wide grin, his dimples deepening in his cheeks. 

“I’ll be back.” He said before retreating into the crowd with Claude following close behind. 

And then you were alone, but not alone for nearly long enough. 

Your hands fiddled with the pocket watch your grandfather had gifted you as you walked, your head down and your gaze focused on the glass face of the watch. It was almost like everything had gone wrong after he had died and left it in your possession. 

Far too distracted from your internal thoughts and the presence of the watch, you missed the incoming form barreling towards you. Within seconds you were knocked to the floor, the layers of your skirts luckily breaking your fall. 

“Ah! Sorry, sorry, sorry, my bad! In a rush, I’m quite late I’m afraid.” The voice rushed out, a slight wheeze accompanying it as he appeared breathless. 

You felt two hands grasp your own and carefully help you into an upright position. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” You said, irritation clear in your tone. 

“No really! Forgive me, it’s my mistake.” He said.

You adjusted your dress, making sure all of the important bits were in place before finally looking up to see who exactly this man was. 

You were not expecting it to be him. Not at all. 

“Grandpa?” You asked softly, taken aback. 

It was him, he looked years younger than when you had last seen him, but it was him. You had gone through countless scrapbooks as a child and the face that was staring back at you was the younger version of the man that had raised you. 

“What?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling as his shoulders shook. 

Your gaze zeroed in on the chain of the watch clipped to his pocket. And, without saying a word, you pulled your own watch free and showed it to him. 

All mirth completely left his body, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out. His lips parted in shock and distress as his eyes traced over his own initials carved into your watch. His hand patted his own chest frantically as he pulled the watch free and held it beside your own. 

They were identical, down to every nick and scratch in the silver finish. 

“How did you get here?” He asked, his voice low and serious in a way you had never heard before. “Did they send you?” 

“Did who send me? Nobody sent me. I just woke up here, other people were living in my house and everything was gone.” You explained as he pulled you to a corner of the ballroom. 

“This isn’t right,” He mumbled, flipping open his own watch. “You’re a time anomaly, there can’t be two of us here at the same time.”

“Two of us?” You echoed. 

“Time travelers, dear, it runs in the family I’m afraid. What was I thinking about giving that to you without explaining?” He said, his words flying so quickly to the point that you were struggling to keep up. 

“Then let’s leave, show me how to get out of here! There has to be a way!”

“You can’t just leave, you’re here for a purpose, you didn’t just come here by accident.” He said as a blue glow began to steadily thrum and pulse from his watch. “Oh no.”

“Oh no? What, what’s happening?”

“I have to go, I’m being called back. Whatever you do, you cannot change anything, do you understand? Who are you staying with, what have you done?” 

“I haven’t changed anything that I know of. I’ve been staying with Kim Namjoon.”

His eyes widened as the watch began to pulse even stronger than before. “Kim Namjoon! Listen to me, you need to go, you need to get as far away as possible he -”

But before he could finish what he was saying he disappeared. It was like he had blipped out of existence, like he had never been there at all. 

You spun around in a circle, trying to see if he was truly gone. All of the party goers did not appear to be phased, it was like they hadn’t seen a single thing that occurred. How was that possible? Fuck that, how was any of this possible?

All you knew was that you were going to follow his advice and get the fuck out of there and out of the East End. 

You forced yourself through the thick crowds of people, pushing, checking, and elbowing away anyone that got in your way. You winced as one particular shove sent a whole glass of wine pouring down the cleavage and dress of one inebriated woman. It didn’t really matter though, you were sure she could afford another one with the way she had been slamming back drinks all night. 

You threw open various doors in an attempt to find a way out, each time you were met with an increasingly more disgusting or disturbing sight. You didn’t even know some of those positions were possible for fuck’s sake. 

Finally, when you threw open a door you were met with the smell of crisp, fresh air. A way out. 

It was a slim alleyway of the East End, just barely illuminated by the crescent moon that hung in the pitch black darkness of the sky. A sudden sense of paranoia washed over you, the last time you were in an alleyway it had ended poorly. But you knew you didn’t have time to think about that. 

Oh, if only you did. 

The minute your heeled feet met the ground you were greeted with that all too familiar scent. There was blood nearby and lots of it. You could hear shuffling a few yards away, and you knew that you fucked up. 

Your throat felt tight as you attempted to swallow, you were certain you could taste the blood on your tongue from how strong the smell was. And, when you finally turned to face whatever was in that alley, you were horrified. 

A few yards away you spotted three figures, two on the ground and one leaning against the wall. And beneath the three of them, a crimson river steadily flowed through the cobblestone. 

You took a step back, your heels scuffing the stone spurring only two of the figures to look up at you. A scream bubbled in your chest at what you saw. Claude was hunched over the figure of a woman, blood splattered over his face and down the leather apron he wore over his clothes. You could see bloodied tools in his grip as he settled back on his hunches, pausing his motions mid incision.

And then there was Namjoon, the once blank look he wore on his face suddenly lighting up with intrigue at the sight of you. 

“Claude? Why don’t you take the lady home.” He spoke, gesturing to the corpse. 

Claude looked between you and Namjoon for a moment, appearing conflicted. But he did not hesitate any longer as he scooped up the woman’s corpse and retreated down in the dark depths of the alley. 

Namjoon was quick as he approached you, you barely made it a few feet away before he grabbed you by your forearms and pinned you up against the wall, hushing you as panicked cries parted your painted lips. 

“I’m sorry, darling. But, I did tell you to stay put didn’t I?”

“Why?” You managed to say as you trembled in his hold, ugly sobs wracking your entire form. 

“Women only want me for one thing I’m afraid. My money. I thought that maybe I could help those women who had nothing, that they could give me love in return if they didn’t know who I was. But they were just the same, motivated by money. I would give them my love and beg them to stop selling themselves but they just wouldn’t listen to me. Every single one of them failed my little test. They were greedy, and selfish. They didn’t deserve to be women. So, I hurt them just like they hurt me.” 

You didn’t know what to do or what to say, you could only focus on the rising feeling of panic in your chest. 

“I knew someone would eventually catch on to what was happening. But how ironic was it that they assigned me to the case out of all people? Those fucking investigators are so inept they never saw it coming. And Claude, well his loyalty was extremely helpful. If you don’t want to be caught, don’t commit the crime yourself.” He whispered. 

“All I wanted was to give them my love, but each and every single one of them broke my heart. All of them except for you.” He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek that made you violently flinch. 

“You were such a little spitfire, and when you showed up to my door I thought I was going to have to kill you on sight. But you proved me wrong, you’re the only one deserving of my love.”

A blue light suddenly lit up the space between you, the glow of the watch casting sinister shadows over the ripper's face. 

Immediately he reached for the watch at the same time as you, and without much effort he wrenched the watch free from your hands and shoved you down to the ground. Your head met the stone first and on impact black spots blurred your vision.

The watch pulsed vibrantly in his hands, humming like a heartbeat. A wicked laugh shook his shoulders as he flipped the face open. 

“So this is how you did it?” He asked, swinging the watch by it’s chain recklessly. 

“Namjoon, don't’!” You cried, struggling to stand. 

But it was too late. A feral scream ripped its way out of your throat as you watched him slam the watch into the ground and violently dig the heel of his shoe into it. The glass shattered, the metal bent, and the blue glow stuttered, weakly thrumming before fizzling out and plunging the alley into darkness. 

The ripper stalked down the alley and stood over you, a viscous smile pulling at his cheeks as he slowly tilted his head to the side. 

“Don’t look so surprised my love, there is only one way I’d ever let you leave me.” 

[nctsjiho]

Shocking Truth Behind NCT JiHo’s Hiatus Revealed + SM Official Statement And Apology

July 24, 2021 By J. Mitchel (K!Today)

After an internal investigation of SM Entertainments financial reports, specifically those regarding NCT, the likely reason of JiHo’s hiatus from April to May of this year, has been revealed. The reason why this information, which I’ll be explaining in a bit, is only deemed ���likely”, is because anonymous sources said this is only “part of a bigger problem”. However, what I’ll be diving into in a second is fully factual (unless stated otherwise), backed up by plenty of evidence, and I can conclude that this has been a driving factor of JiHo’s hiatus.

Visas, Working As A Minor And Bing A Foreigner Working In The Idol Industry

For those who aren’t aware, Geovanna Dubois, otherwise known as Lim Jiho, and debuted as JiHo, moved to Korea in late 2014. At that time she was only 13, turning 14 soon in international age, which made her a minor. Because her family stayed back in France, where she lived prior to becoming a trainee, she had to be assigned a guardian.

This guardian was an employee at SM Entertainment who was not particularly close to JiHo; it was stated that:

“(the guardian) was only in charge of legal affairs regarding JiHo and everything else: housing, medical needs, schooling, leisure and so on, was taken care of by other employees and managers - who kept in contact with JiHo’s family - until she was no longer a minor”.

However it was revealed that JiHo’s guardian had not taken care of their part of taking care of JiHo. For a total of 6 months, they did not provide JiHo with the right Visa (this does not include failing to renew her Visa when renewal was due). For a total of 4 months - beknown to managers and other employees - they violated the rules under the Child Labour Laws in Korea. And for her whole career up until April of 2021 they did not provide her with her fair earnings she deserved (more on this later).

Until 2020 all of this went unnoticed by the higher ups in SM Entertainment. An ex employee, who wanted to stay anonymous stated:

“There was always so much secrecy going on in the office. I felt insanely guilty towards JiHo because she wasn’t given fair treatment behind the scenes. Employees would fake reports about the state of JiHo’s legal documents. I thought it would all stop when she debuted, but things continued as they were.

… They withheld money from JiHo’s wage to pay off debt caused by the mistakes the employees made. One day the department got a 10,000,000.00 Korean won (around 8,500 USD) fine for violating Child Labour Laws. Instead of going to the boss, employees would take money from JiHo’s bank account - the guardian had full access to it - or would write it off on JiHo’s trainee debt. Something like this shouldn’t happen in such a big company as SM.”

If you thought this was bad, that was only just the tip of the iceberg.

Unfair Pay

As mentioned before, part of JiHo’s hard earned money would go to paying of debt and fines, but that’s not all.

JiHo is one of NCT’s rappers. But did you know she also participated in writing lyrics and sometimes help in arranging songs? Especially for Japanese releases. For most of her work she did not get credited, but apparently this was because of the percentage of her input being “too low”.

Whether this is a fair reason or not is not something I can comment on. In my small amount of research in this area I have found that not everyone gets paid the same just because they are credited in a song. And even if I find that logical, by that statement I would assume that JiHo should have been credited for every song she participated in.

However, that’s where I found out the reason as to why she might not have been credited for every song she worked on.

Comparing her with other members of NCT who have put in similar amounts of work into writing, producing, arranging music, as well as overall performing, making public appearances, modelling and other schedules, taking in account the money employees took away for debt, JiHo on average would receive only 80,6% of what her colleagues would earn.

Keeping that in mind, I suspect that if they would’ve credited her for every song, it would’ve been more obvious that she didn’t receive the payment she deserved whenever this news would come out. However if that was the reason behind this, they failed, because almost every source who is covering this news has at least mentioned this.

Today’s Reality

Before we go into SM Entertainment’s official statement and apology (yes I was also surprised by this), let’s talk about how these events have affected JiHo.

Of course we don’t know all the small details, and according to the previous anonymous ex employee there have been some problems with an ex manager, but in the big picture JiHo did not get affected by these past events on a day to day basis. Having said that, one thing does break my heart in this whole story. The same ex employee also stated that:

“While all this was going on, one of the managers - or maybe it was the guardian themselves - contacted JiHo’s family. They told them lies so that they would not ask JiHo to go visit them back home. Since her Visa wasn’t always okay, it might have caused problems once she left Korea. They also told her family it might be best for them not to visit JiHo because she was ‘doing fine’ and them visiting would ‘cause a distraction’. I once had JiHo’s mother on the phone, she seems like a sweet lady, who was heartbroken not being able to see her daughter for years, being under the impression that visiting her daughter would be a burden to her and her career.”

I hope that with everything that I’ve shared here, you can understand the severity of these events. Knowing that this is only a small percentage of the whole situation makes me scared to hear what else was going on. But let’s hope that things look better for JiHo’s future.

SM Entertainment’s statement

“This is SM Entertainment.

Earlier today, documents and numbers surfaced that we weren’t eager to show to the public. These documents revealed things that you weren’t meant to see either. For the longest time, we, the higher ups in SM Entertainment, were unaware of what was going on behind the scenes. That’s our mistake, and we want to own up to it now.

We should have been more thorough. We should have been more involved. But as we were tricked into thinking everything was fine, we decided to put faith in our employees and let them operate as they were.

Even though we felt cheated and tricked, we were not the real victims here. Lim Jiho, one of our idols, is the one who got tricked the most.

For the years we’ve known her she has grown incredibly much. She’s one of our most hardworking idols. She’s skilled in everything she does. She’s an inspiring and friendly soul and we, SM Entertainment, are extremely honoured to have her as one of our idols.

We are sorry to JiHo, to her family, her friends and her fans for all the discomfort, uncertainty and pain we have caused them. A simple sorry isn’t enough and that’s why we have decided to take some actions.

For JiHo: As you are aware, JiHo is now also under Esteem. The statement we have issued before still stands. We will work together with Esteem to provide JiHo with all the opportunities she deserves so she is able to grow in an even more talented and loved artist.

We will not only take accountability for the financial injury JiHo suffered, but also will try our best to put her emotional and mental health first. Many of these things we have and will continue to discuss with JiHo privately. She will, if desired, reach out to fans and friends on her own accord to talk about her side of things. So to respect her privacy we won’t go further into detail.

For family and friends: We are incredibly sorry towards JiHo’s personal and private relationships to which we caused damage. From the many foreign artist we have under our label, we know that homesickness and missing friends and family is natural. We did not mean to put even more of a strain on her relationships. Again we want to respect the privacy of everyone who is involved, so we will be reaching out to JiHo’s close family privately to issue a personal apology.

For the fans: We are again incredibly sorry towards all of JiHo’s fans who have been worried about her not only during her hiatus this year, but throughout her whole career. We know you want to see more of JiHo and we, along with Esteem and of course JiHo, will try and give back to you as much as possible by providing you with the content you deserve.

We know that the fans will be the happiest if JiHo is happy, so from now on we will make extra sure that JiHo’s happiness is our top priority.

Our apology doesn’t excuse our past actions and from now on we will try to be more transparent as that is something we heard many fans shared their concerns about. We want to let you know that most of the things we’ve discussed here are things we’ve been working on ever since JiHo’s hiatus started. But since the news is now public we want to assure the people that actions are indeed being taken.

We would also like to let everyone know that there have been actions taken in regards of the employees, managers and direct contacts who were at the base of all of this.

From now on we will be focusing on making things right and moving forward. Thank you for your patience.

Fans are happy to hear that SM is taking actions. Even if some things go unexplained and many fans don’t believe SM is being completely “transparent”, they are content things seem to start going into the right direction.

When more news surface (which I have a feeling it will) I’ll be updating you guys about this. For now I’ll leave you with some of the fans’ reactions to the situation.

What do you think about SM’s apology? And how do you feel about hearing the truth about JiHo’s hiatus? Let us now in the comments bellow or on our Twitter @KNewsToday

[missmentelle]

lately ive been struggling with delusions and i cant bring them up with my current psych because she's really ableist. im not sure when ill be able to get a new psych, but im hoping soon. often im unable to tell that my delusions arent reality and i talk about them as though theyre real, and its starting to upset my friends. im wondering if you have tips on how i could manage this until i get a new psych, or maybe tips on how i could find a psych thatd work for me? i havent seen a new one in yrs

Hey, I’m really sorry to hear that you’re dealing with an unsupportive psychiatrist or psychologist. It’s always very disappointing when a mental health professional holds such damaging views about the people they are supposed to be supporting. 

Unfortunately, there is not much you can do to manage delusions on your own, aside from getting on the right dose of the correct medication. It is, unfortunately, not really possible to talk someone out of a delusion. It’s especially unlikely that you’ll be able to talk yourself out of a delusion, as by definition, you won’t be able to tell if you’re in the middle of one. You can try to prevent delusional episodes by keeping your stress levels down as much as possible, but this is not foolproof, and it may be very difficult to avoid stress while you are living through an unprecedented global pandemic/climate catastrophe/economic crisis combo. 

If you struggle with delusions and you don’t have the correct medication yet, the best thing that you can do for yourself is to make sure that the people around you are aware of the situation and know what to do if you start having a delusion. This is a symptom that really takes a team effort to manage properly, and it’s essential that your friends and family know what to do:

Loved ones should be made aware of your delusions, including their common themes. It can be an extremely scary experience for everyone involved when someone starts saying and believing things that are completely detached from reality. Your loved ones need to know that this is something that happens to you sometimes, and they need to know some of the common delusions that they should look for. If you often have delusions that involve thinking there are secret messages on TV, for instance, that’s something your loved ones should know to look for so they can recognize it as soon as it starts happening. 

Loved ones should record the time, duration, intensity and content of your delusions. Whenever you have a delusional episode, the people around you should note down what you were doing when it started, how it started, how long it went on for, how intense it was, and what kinds of things you were saying and doing. This information can be helpful for trying to figure out what - if anything - makes you more likely to have a delusion, and what kinds of delusions you are more likely to have. When you do find a good doctor, this will also be useful information for them to have. 

Loved ones should remain as calm as possible. Delusions are often very scary for the person experiencing them - it is common for someone experiencing a delusion to believe that someone is after them, that they are being monitored by the government or some other large organization, that someone is sending them secret messages through ordinary TV broadcasts, or that their food has been contaminated or poisoned in some way. These are very scary, and people experiencing delusions are often in a state of extreme panic or fear. This is why it’s important for loved ones to recognize what is happening, and remain calm - if they also become panicked or fearful, it will only make you more afraid. To best support you during a frightening delusion, they should aim to be collected, reassuring and soothing. They should speak in short, clear sentences, and validate your emotions - if you seem very frightened, they can simply say “That sounds very scary, I am very sorry this is happening to you.”

Loved ones should not “play along” with the delusions, but they also should not try to talk you out of it. It is not possible to talk someone out of a delusion. Playing along with a delusion is also unhelpful, as it can make the person experiencing the delusion more agitated and even more disconnected from reality. Instead, your loved ones should simply try to redirect you - they should assure you that everything is okay, allow you to express your feelings and experiences, and then try to turn your attention toward a conversation or activity that is less frightening for you. If you are suddenly panicked that all the food in the house has been poisoned and are insisting you need to throw out all the food, for instance, your loved ones should not argue with you, but should simply assure you that everything is okay and try to direct you to another activity, like going for a walk with them. 

Loved ones should try to safeguard you until the delusion passes. The vast majority of people who experience psychosis or delusions never become violent. However, there is a risk of harming yourself or ending up in legal trouble while in a deluded state, and loved ones should take steps to try to make sure you are safe. You should, for instance, absolutely be prevented from driving while in a delusional state. Some people have a tendency to make strange online purchases or book plane tickets while delusional - if that is the case with you, it’s probably best if you be prevented from accessing your credit cards until you’ve recovered. 

If you become a danger to yourself and others, or if your delusions aren’t passing on their own, your loved ones should seek help right away. There are, unfortunately, limits to what your loved ones can manage on your own, and your safety has to be top priority. If you are at serious risk of harming yourself and your loved ones aren’t able to keep you safe, there needs to be a plan in place for how to get you help. If your loved ones can safely transport you to a hospital, that is one option. If they cannot, they should contact your local mobile crisis mental health team, if possible (this is a travelling team of mental health nurses and professionals who respond to mental health emergencies - this service may or may not be available in your area). If it exists, your loved ones all need to have the phone number for that service and be comfortable calling them. If 911 is the only option, your loved ones need to know when to make that call, and they should be prepared to accompany you to the hospital to advocate for your, or to request a patient advocate once you arrive (most hospitals in North America, at least, will have an advocate available - this is a person who knows your rights and ensures that everything is being properly explained to you and your family).  

As far as locating a good doctor goes, I think your best bet is to seek out recommendations from your peers - try to connect with people with similar mental health struggles in your area, and ask them if they are happy with their current doctor. There may also be an organization in your area that can make recommendations - most areas will have a local schizophrenia or psychosis society (or something with a similar name) that may be able to point you toward doctors they’ve heard good things about. If your area has a specific psychosis team or clinic, that may also be a good place to start - they will specialize in your specific symptoms, and generally have a better understanding of how to work with you in a constructive way. 

It’s also important that you start looking for a new doctor right away. Early intervention is critical when it comes to symptoms of psychosis - the sooner you get proper treatment, the better you’ll respond to treatment and the greater your odds that you’ll be able to successfully manage your condition. Although delusional episodes may pass on their own, the underlying condition won’t - without treatment, delusional episodes tend to become more severe and longer-lasting over time, and you may begin to experience other symptoms of psychosis like auditory hallucinations or a severe disruption of your sleep patterns. Early treatment can mean a huge improvement to your overall quality of life, and I really cannot emphasize enough how important it is for you take that step as soon as you can.  Best of luck to you! MM

[onlyherefortheshowmances]

So I saw someone else get an anon message that said: “I hate to admit this, but I really can't shake the feeling that Benji loves Victor more than Victor loves Benji at this point.” I wanted to respond as well, because I think this is something people are probably seeing a lot and I really want to explain how I’m looking at it (from personal experience and just from looking at and examining the characters).

CW/TW: Mental Health, suicidal ideation/action mention, Addiction, Emotional Trauma, sex mention, Predatory relationship mention, catholicism, homophobia, misunderstandings, lack of communication, spoilers for love victor seasons 1 & 2 [let me know if I missed anything please]

I want to be frank in saying that Benji is my favorite character and I project onto him a lot (along with seeing a lot of myself in him). I’m also white AF, so I’m sure some of you think that’s relevant, but I really don’t think it is in this particular case. I do also however identify with Victor in a number of ways and I am trying to see the characters both as complex individuals with deep personal histories. Both have suffered traumas and both are clearly dealing with a lot of their own shit on top of being sixteen/seventeen and dealing with junior year of high school and all the pressures and expectations that brings for everyone.

I think what people are interpreting at loving someone more/less is actually about prioritizing someone/a relationship more/less. In my mind, from what I see on screen and interpret, they both love each other beyond words. They are both very much in love with one another. It comes down to how they display that to each other and to the public as well as where on their list of priorities this relationship falls.

Let’s start with Victor, struggles and life:

He is dealing with internalized homophobia and associated thought-patterns stemming from his upbringing in the Catholic church as well from the vocalized homophobic remarks from his mother (toward himself and Benji as well as likely at other points in his life toward strangers), his father (stating that he hopes Adrian doesn’t turn out ‘like that’; the scene in S1 where they’re at the church in Texas and he calls the hairdresser ‘flojito’; etc.), and his grandparents (on his birthday and likely at other points in his life). As a result of this, Victor tried to make himself straight (or at least interested in a girl) by dating Mia because he did like her as a person and everyone was telling him that’s what he was supposed to do. He ended up hurting her and almost losing her friendship (temporarily, he did, but she does seem to have forgiven him now).

He is dealing with outside homophobia as well. That kid on the very first day he was Creekwood responding to Benji helping him up. Felix’s comment that same day of ‘you don’t want to give people the wrong idea.’ The basketball team/gym class guys roasting him about not hooking up with Mia on the ferris wheel. Felix saying he’d be crazy to not like Mia. Lake asking ‘are you gay or something’ when he brought Felix along to Mia’s house, etc., etc. Some of these things may seem innocent enough, but they weren’t. Not to Victor who was already struggling to accept even the possibility that he might be gay. Once he managed to come out to his parents, obviously his father got better fairly quickly, but Isabel continued to struggle for six months which put even more pressure on Victor to try to lead this double life. Once he came out at school, the whole fiasco with the basketball team also occurred and that was a lot for him, because Basketball as always his safe-space. It’s where he went to get away from all the other pressure. It was something he didn’t have to think about and now suddenly, he did. Those pressure are also affecting his ability to think about what he may want and it seems affecting his ability to think (at all sometimes) about how any of that is also affecting Benji. It’s affecting him so much that he’s basically blind to how it’s also affecting Benji to see him suffer. He doesn’t even consider that possibility until Felix brings up how hard it is for him the night Felix breaks up with Lake and Venji get caught having sex.

Victor also has struggles away from just his coming out and accepting himself journey. He has the struggles associated with his parents separation. Until fairly recently, Victor always thought his parents had a perfect relationship. He saw that as the ideal. Get together in High School, get married right away, stay together for ever, happily ever after. That’s what he was raised to expect. And now he’s seeing their relationship fall apart before his eyes. Hell, his devoutly Catholic mother had an affair, and he’s wondering if it’s really possible for your first love to be your only love especially after he and Benji start butting heads, so he’s already vulnerable to that viewpoint when Rahim brings up the possibility. He gets so lost in what’s happening to his parents and what Rahim is saying about it not usually working out that he forgets how in love he is and he sort of loses his will to fight for what he wants, because maybe it’s just doomed to fail anyway (until he sees Benji at the wedding and it sort of hits again - and then Felix’s speech thereafter, obviously). He kind of loses his way by getting caught up in the statistic improbability of your first love being the one and watching his parents’ marriage potentially fall apart and he wonders for a moment if it might be easier, if it might be better to just walk away and go toward Rahim who he seem to get along with and seems to understand the things Benji doesn’t about him, but what he fails to examine in that moment is that he’s only barely scratched the surface with Rahim and that Rahim doesn’t know him like Benji does and that every relationship has it’s ups and downs and what it always comes down to is how willing both parties are to work to make things right. How much you’re willing to step into the other person’s shoes and try to understand. In my opinion, even if he were to walk away from Benji and go to Rahim, that bubble of understanding isn’t going to last forever either. He’s failing to remember that when he got together with Benji (and for most of the summer it seems) that’s exactly what it was like and failing to remember that they have grown beyond that into a deep soul-altering love for one another that deserves his time, energy, and effort and NEEDS those things to keep it going.

Now let’s talk about Victor’s priorities in life:

Victor has always been close with his family, especially his mother. The strain on that relationship is very taxing on his mental well-being. He has a hard time ‘standing up to’ her or talking back to her, etc. because he loves her and he just wants their easy, close relationship back. He already overcame his own anger at her affair to get her back, but now she’s the one pulling away because of his sexuality and it’s hurting him because if he was able to forgive her for something that was actually wrong, why can’t she forgive him for something that he has no control over. So he loves his mother and his family and he hates disappointing them. He has spent most of his life fixing his family’s issues (as he explains to Simon in S1), but now he is the issue and he doesn’t know how to handle it. When in 2x1 he decides to just bring Benji over and try exposure therapy with his mom, it backfires in a big way. Even though they barely touch each other. Even though Benji just says the word boyfriend once, it’s too much for Isabel and Victor desperately wants to please. He desperately wants to not lose his mother (who has always been the person he is closest to), so that causes him to take a step back from going against her and the steps he still takes (telling her he wants her to call Benji his boyfriend not just his friend, the whole conversation outside the church, the conversation with Adrian, etc.) are things that Benji doesn’t get to see happening and it frustrated Victor that Benji won’t even listen to him when he tries to say that his mom is making progress at all, because she is so important to him and yet it seems like Benji just doesn’t even recognize or care about that. This leads him to say the thing he does at Brasstown before Benji runs out, because he assumes that it has to do with Benji being white and of course, that is part of it, but I think Victor in that moment is so overwhelmed by the rejection of his mother and now the refusal of his boyfriend to even try to understand that he snaps. He forgets all the struggles Benji has told him from his own past and he just lashes out which causes Benji to leave [more on Benji’s viewpoint of this whole thing later].

Victor also loves basketball. It’s true that in some case LGBTQIA+ individual participate in certain activities to make them seem more ‘normal’. Gay men participating in sports to seem more macho is a common one, so Benji thinking that’s why Victor plays basketball makes sense to an extend, but he never bothers to ask Victor about, only makes assumptions, and Victor feels like the fact that he actually likes sports makes him ‘not gay enough’ (see conversation with Andrew). What he’s forgetting entirely is his encounter with Bram and the gay basketball league in NYC from episode 1x8. There are many ways to be gay, and sports gays do exist and are perfectly valid. That’s not the type of gay Benji or his friends/bandmates are, but it is the type that Victor is and Benji failing to recognize that and failing to understand or even ask Victor about that drives one of many wrenches into their relationship. In episode 1x5 when Benji shows up to Victor’s first game back on the team and does the Go Grizzlies dance with the other basketball girlfriends, it definitely does a lot of help Victor realize this was just a miscommunication/misunderstanding rather than anything malicious. Basketball and his teammates continue to be a priority for him after this, but that seems to be something Benji is now capable of understanding.

Finally, Victor loves Benji. He wants to be with Benji; there is zero doubt about that. However, for Victor when he’s put on the spot (as in episode 2x8) and basically told he has to choose his mom (who has raised him and been his closest confidant and biggest supporter for his entire life) or his boyfriend (who he’s known for almost a year and been dating for six months and is helplessly in love with) it processes as an error message in his brain. He just wants everyone to get along. He’s not mad that Adrian knows that he’s gay (he’s wanted him to know for months), but he is upset that his mom is now even angrier. [see my section about Benji in this moment, for more about Isabel’s reactions as well] In his mind, telling Adrian could wait. In his mind, he was willing to go along with his mom’s requests for a while longer just to keep the peace so to speak. He didn’t want his whole life to fall apart and that’s what he thought was about to happen in that moment. That’s why he asked Benji to leave. He didn’t want to make his mom any angrier. Could he have chosen his words better? Yes. Could he have made Benji understand better? Yes. But he’s sixteen and his brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity because post-sex brain is definitely a thing and he was also looking at his mom who has already been horrible and barely able to look at him for six months, looking even angrier after he finally thought they’d made some progress after church the previous week.

So in conclusion, regarding Victor:

He loves his family (especially his mom). He loves Benji. He loves Basketball. Obviously, he’s not going to prioritize basketball over either of the human beings involved, but I think it’s important to at least note it’s importance in his life. As for Isabel vs. Benji. To Victor, these are the two most important people in his life. All he wants is to be able to love both of them and have both of them love him in return. When they are pit against each other, especially directly, it’s hard for him to make a choice. It’s hard for him to say ‘no’ to his mom and it’s hard for him to say ‘no’ to Benji, but in the moment (episode 2x8 specifically), he takes Isabel’s side, because he knows the ramifications of saying no to her and of making her even more angry that she already is are far worse than the ones for asking Benji to leave for the night. He failed to realize however, how close Benji already was to the edge and how upset he was going to be and how little he understood (or was willing to try to understand) about the situation. This is something he really needs to communicate with Benji (even though it’s not quite as important now that Isabel’s apparently come around). I think it’s important for Benji to understand that Victor values his relationship with his mother enough that it’s difficult for him to go against her without a lot of preparation and having a fully fledged reason, etc.

Now for Benji - Struggles and Life:

The obvious of course is that Benji is a sixteen/seventeen year old that’s barely a year sober and attending AA meetings regularly. Recovering from Alcoholism is difficult at any age let alone for a teenager. One of the most important factors in recovery is looking at the things that led you to drink in the first place. Looking at things that may be considered triggers and either learning to avoid those people/situations or learning healthy alternatives in those situations. I have multiple family members who are both actively drinking alcoholics as well as those in recovery. I also lost my best friend/ex-fiancé to alcoholism a few years ago, so to say I have some personal experience in this arena is putting it lightly. Benji admits to Victor in 1x7 that he used to drink a lot because he knew he was gay, but didn’t want to be. To me that whole story screamed, I’m an alcoholic and while a lot of others agreed with that opinion. I was not shocked that Victor didn’t understand that underlying truth. Those that don’t have intimate familiarity with alcoholism often do not recognize the signs (either as they happen when when they are not directly told). It is made clear in episodes 2x7 & 2x8 that Benji hates this part of himself, in fact he says as much to Victor when he arrives at his apartment late the night of his birthday. Benji has still not fully accepted that the alcoholic part of himself that attends AA meetings and drinks orange juice while his friends are drinking vodka is one and the same with the part of himself that loves Victor with all his heart. This is something I’d really like to see him reconcile and work on in season 3 and beyond. Understand that you can’t compartmentalize yourself. You are but one whole person and all facets of yourself are in fact part of the singular you. [Not accounting for those with dissociative identity disorder.] It’s not directly mentioned if he’s still struggling with urges to drink, but most if not all alcoholics do, especially when experiencing those aforementioned triggers. Seeing Benji meeting with his sponsor after the incident with Isabel/Victor is not shocking to me and if anything, that was the healthy and correct response on his part. The reason he was drinking in the first place was that he was gay and didn’t want to be (internalized and probably external homophobia) and he just experience some really intense homophobia at the hands of his boyfriend’s mom (and partially said boyfriend himself). Benji’s lack of understanding of where Isabel was coming from in episode 1x8 speaks volumes to just how traumatize Benji still is about his own experiences with homophobia. The only thing he can think about in that moment is that this woman hates me for being gay. She hates her son for being gay. Being gay isn’t okay, etc. What he doesn’t factor in is that Isabel is also devoutly Catholic. I honestly don’t think it’s the gay part of the sex that horrified her the most. The Catholic faith is also very clear on the practice of abstinence from sex (at all) prior to marriage. She would’ve responded the same way had she walked in on Victor having sex with a girl, in my opinion, but in the moment Benji’s own trauma is overriding his ability to understand that because all he can see is the homophobia. This is especially true after she calls him Victor’s friend rather than his boyfriend and that in my opinion, is why he snaps. Could he have phrased it better? Yes. Could he have said it without shouting? Yes. But he is a freshly seventeen-year-old whose brain is not functioning on all cylinders in that moment.

Sort of coupled with his alcoholism and recovery therefrom is the allusion his mother makes to ‘dark times’ following his accident. I do have suspicions that perhaps he was also struggling with mental illness, and likely continues to. Depression to the point of suicidal ideation or actions (possibly only in the form of drinking, but possibly in other forms as well). Anxiety is pretty obvious from his actions and reactions throughout the series as well. I also think he is dealing with some sort of trauma-based disorder stemming from the homophobia he experienced (especially the instance of his father taking him to strip-club). It may go as far as C-PTSD (which I myself am diagnosed with) or it maybe something less (or even more). I’m not in the habit of sticking mental health diagnoses of people (fictional or otherwise though). Dealing with these things on top of what in his eyes feels like rejection from not only Isabel, but in a way from Victor as well likely causes some very unpleasant thought patterns and the potential for thought spirals and the likely. I also see indications that he could suffer from co-dependency (whish I also have dealt with in the past), but I’m honestly not sure if that’s me projecting or if it’s actually there.

Then on top of all of that, his boyfriend who he loves more than anything in the world, tells his deepest darkest secret to someone he’s literally never met or spoken to and that said boyfriend has only known for maybe a week at best and thinks it’s no big deal. In that moment, I can 110% see why Benji requests to take a break and I feel that choice is 110% the right one to make. What is a relationship built on if not trust? Victor just destroyed most if not all of the trust Benji had in him. That doesn’t mean he stopped loving him, just that he doesn’t trust him. Love isn’t something you can turn off and on like a light switch especially not the kind these two share. I definitely think Victor has a lot of explaining to do and a lot of apologies to make. I do also think they both need to have a really long, really honest and open conversation. Benji needs to be willing to get a little vulnerable and explain why certain things are causing him so much distress, but he also needs to be willing to listen to Victor explain why he can’t simply go against his mother as Benji seems to think he should. They both really demonstrated a degree of selfishness this season along with an lack of communication and a lack of willingness to understand or even try to understand each other’s points of view and that is a recipe for disaster in any relationship.

There also exists the issue of Benji’s parents. His mother especially seems to overstep quite frequently and insert herself into his life where she was not invited or expected. I do wonder if this was always her personality or if this is something that started after Benji’s accident. I have a hunch it was likely the latter. I see indications that perhaps there was some neglect or just general indifference on his parents part as he was growing up. They clearly missed that he had started drinking heavily and that he stole his dad’s car that night. He was also evidently dating Derek for quite a while before the accident. (Derek is another section by himself though.) This not to mention the fact that his father took him to a strip club and paid for a lap dance when he was no more than sixteen if he was even that old, in an effort to turn him straight. Benji tells Victor in episode 1x7 that he and his dad used to be close and that they used to go to Dollywood on road trips and other such things, but that he’s been distant since he came out. We see from the scene where he walks in on Benji and Victor making out that he’s not vocally/outwardly homophobic, but I would not doubt that he still harbors some of those viewpoints in himself. It’s evident to me that Benji is not close to his parents (he may once have been, but at this point it’s pretty clear that he’s not anymore). Benji doesn’t have siblings to the best of our knowledge. It’s also mentioned that his nana (like a paternal grandmother) is deceased, so it’s really not clear how much contact he even has with his extended family or how much of one exists. For these reasons, in his mind, there is no circumstance where his family (especially not his parents) would take precedence of his own happiness or Victor’s. That is why it confuses/hurts/angers him that Victor doesn’t stand up to Isabel, because if the roles were reversed, he would have no problem at all telling his own mother (or father) off. He doesn’t seem to comprehend Victor’s need to keep his relationship with his mother intact. I’m very glad Isabel pointed out to him that Victor has stood up to her and risked their relationship for him, but the disconnect still lies in that Benji isn’t a fan of the fact that he didn't’ do that in his presence and that he didn’t do more.

Then there’s Derek. Derek is at least a sophomore in college in season 2 as he was clearly in college in season 1 as well. Meaning he is at least 19/20 when Benji is 16/17. They had been together for a year the previous spring (episode 1x6) which means they started dating when Benji was 15 and Derek was no younger than 18 (I think he is like at least a year older than the youngest possibility). Georgia’s age of consent is 16, and there are no ‘Romeo and Juliet’ laws in place in the state meaning it is categorically illegal for anyone 18 years of age or older to engage in sexual acts with anyone 15 years of age or younger unless they are legally wed, meaning until Benji’s 16th birthday, this relationship was illegal in general not to mention the predatory nature of someone in college dating a high school sophomore to begin with. They generally don’t prosecute if the people involved are within 4 years of each other though (which coincides with ‘Romeo and Juliet’ laws in other states) which they could’ve been within depending on Derek’s actual age and birthday. It doesn’t seem like charges were filed either way which is questionable on Benji’s parents part. Benji also tells Victor in 1x10 that Derek made him feel bad a lot of the time about the things he like and about being a romantic, we also see Derek crap all over Benji’s special anniversary date in 1x6. The toxicity of that relationship is sure to have left it’s mark on Benji and carried over into his new relationship with Victor. I also find it questionable that knowing that, Benji was shitting all over Victor’s love for basketball at one point (isn’t that exactly what he complained about Derek doing to him about his interests?), though as you see in my earlier comments, I do understand that perhaps Benji wasn't’ fully aware that Victor actually liked basketball and wasn’t just doing it to seem straight/make his dad happy/etc. I also think it’s quite confusing that Victor managed to come up with that date idea for Benji in 1x6 and then the best he could do for Benji’s birthday was champagne and sex? I’d be more than marginally hurt over that if I was Benji, to be completely fair. It is also worth it to note that Benji stayed with Derek for over a year despite all of their problems (which goes back to the possibility of co-dependency issues) and yet he was willing to break up with him just to chase after the possibility of Victor. They had already connected on so many levels even prior to that night that even the possibility of that relationship made Benji willing to leave someone he’d been with for more than a year (obviously Victor’s little speech in the hallway played a part in that).

Benji’s Priorities:

In Benji’s world, he has a few things that could be considered priorities.

Maintaining his sobriety is obviously one, but he keeps that separate from everything else. I don’t see it being held above or below anyone or anything. It’s just a completely separate thing to him (which again I feel he needs to reconcile). He was able to do that while also appeasing his friends and Victor (see episode 2x4 where he switches out his cups).

His music/band is obviously a priority, but again that’s something basic that everyone knows about and accepts. He doesn’t have choose between that and anything or anyone else that we’re shown.

Victor is his primary priority however. To him, that is the most important relationship/person in his life. He doesn’t know what he’d do without him. He says he loves that part of his life which I take to mean, he loves who he is when they’re together and not so much when they’re apart. To him, there is no question of who he would choose if there was a choice in front of him between Victor and literally anyone else (including his parents). That is why it confuses/hurts/angers him when the choice isn’t so simple for Victor when he actually has to make one between Benji and Isabel. Benji isn’t close with his parents and he doesn’t seem to understand what it is like for someone that is. Even if his parents didn’t come around right away. Even if they still may not be fully on board with everything, it didn't’ matter that much to him, because he could stand up to them because he didn’t care about destroying a relationship, because there already wasn’t much of one to begin with. This leads to him not understanding that Victor is seriously conflicted in the moments where he is made to choose between his boyfriend and his mother, because to Benji that choice is crystal clear. Again, they could really do with an honest conversation about this where Benji actually listens and tries to understand where Victor’s coming from, because right now, I think he just doesn’t quite get it. It’s clear that Isabel’s speech at Brasstown helped him to understand or at least start to, and obviously now that Isabel isn’t so much of an obstacle everything becomes a little easier, but it is still something that I really feel they need to discuss and understand about each other.

In conclusion:

Both of these boys need therapy (individual, family, and couples), and they would really benefit from a lot more open and honest communication where they both are able to speak honestly about their needs and desires as well as both being able to listen to and understand (or try to at least) one another.

[lexiwright]

Night out

Benny watts x reader

I'm so so so sorry this to so long to come out. I had planned it to be out for new year and then I kept changing my mind so it may not seem like it makes sense apologizes, I'm also promptly moving tomorrow. I literally was told my parents couldn't handle me and my mental health anymore and am not getting kicked out just ( space for everyone ) so yea I'm feeling very low and just so no one wonders why the next one will probably take so long. I'll be living with my real mum who has her own issues too so we will see

Trigger warning - slight alcohol miss use. Slight drunken abuse (not from benny he would never.)

Some cuddles and fluff

Prompt - ”Can you please come and get me ”

--------

It had been a less than successful night. Your sure others wouldn't agree but you sat next to a gutter at the side of a very quiet road in front of a building of which merely hours ago you had been drinking aside friends in had drunk adults spilling from the door as everyone came and went.

Your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you glanced around and spotted a payphone a little down the street. Pulling yourself off the ground and reaching for your bag you stumble your way away from the slow rumbling music that clung around the door from inside. It got distant and you fell into the booth.

You thought about how the night had started. The party had been on everyones mind for days. You were going with cleo and the boys. Beth was even gonna meet you guys there. Who was in New York for a few days, staying in a hotel a few blocks from the party. Although she didn't stay long, trying to keep sober.

You guys had got there around 11. In time for the beginning of shots being pasted around. Which you off course accepted. Kick starting the night with some vodka.

All went well for a few hours, by about 2 you'd put back your fair share of drink. And that's when it started to hit you. You weren't a stranger to the results of alcohol tho and kept going like it was nothing.

But apparently your uneven walking had caught the attention of some...less than pleasant individuals. They had tried talking to you before and you just ignored them. They had a look in their eyes that you weren't comfortable with so you didn't dwell on them.

But they had dwelled on you it seemed. They noticed as your balance had started to wobble. Quite possibly noticing when your words all slurred together. And definitely when you stumbled in front of them as you had unsuccessfully attempted to step past one of them. But there was no call for the man to grab you. And not in a way to help you balance. You told him to let go. But his hands had other ideas. You tried to pull his hands off of you and your not sure what happened next but he slapped you.

You probably did something wrong you thought. You always screw things up.

Some words were exchanged and you rushed out. Not after kneeling him in a not so nice place. he tried to grab you. Ripping the shoulder of your one straps. It was a cheap dress but now you had to make sure you help up the strap just in case.

You felt humiliated and your face hurt.

You found some money in your bag, next to some mint gum that you decided was a higher priority.

Benny hadn't come to the party. He thought it sounded stupid. And when you had stepped out of your room into the middle of the apartment he looked at you and snorted.

” what do you expect to get in that get up?” he asked suggestively.

You didn't think anything of it and giggled at him. But now you thought maybe it truly was your fault an that you seemed like you were asking for it.

Shaking your head to clear it of such thoughts. Which made the small booth spin a little but you stuck with it. Putting in the coins and trying to remember the right numbers for the house. You felt sick as you listened for the click of the phone being a answered and a harsh voice on the other end speaking.

”hello?”

It was Benny. Hopefully you hadn't woke him.

” Benny?” you whispered out. Realising you had to speak

” Y/N?” he questioned. Voice softening a little.

You twirled the cable as you stared at your shaking hand.

Your throat seemed to close up as you looked for the words. To explain how drunk you had got. To explain what the men tried to do to you. Why you hadn't come home yet even though it was now 3.

” Y/N what's the matter” he asked sternly.

Your eyes pricked with sudden tears and with a slight choke you sobbed out.

”Can you please come and get me ”

”what happened where are the others?” he seemed startled

” I don't know. I'm sorry. Please Benny.”

There was a split second of silence and then

” I'm coming to get you stay right where you are. ” and then another click.

You waited. Felt like a life time. You thought about a lot of things. Part of you was worried Benny wouldn't come. That he would leave you here. You struggled to keep your self balanced so you went over to a step and sat down. Put your head in your hands with your elbows resting on your thighs.

You sighed. Maybe you should find your own way. You sat up and ran your fingers through your hair.

It wasn't to long before a taxi pulled up in front of you and outstepped a slightly frustrated looking Benny.

His hair askew and a loose black shirt, he took a few long strides to reach you.

Looking up you giggled at how tall he looked. Sighing at your antics he held out a hand and began to pull you too your feet.

Wobbling considerably you made it to an upright position and with a long arm around your waist you stumbled your way to the taxi.

You some how got in. A testament to what a person would do to get away from a party.

You could tell he hadn't noticed your strap or face yet, you had concealed it well. Somehow.

Time didn’t work for you so you’ve no idea how long it took to get home. But when you did benny got out first to open the door for you and pay the driver.

Thanking the man. He shut the car door and watched for a second as it pulled away before turning his attention to the more presssing matter of the drunking idiot before him. Giggling at a joke he obviously missed.

He noticed your face. You saw the moment he did and he stepped closer. Enough to see the outline of a hand.

This was when Benny realised there was a little more to this story of you just getting blitzed as he, for the first time took in your appearance, clocking the strap you were holding up with your arms folded.

A hint of rage passed through him before he calmed and took your hand to get you inside. You were barely three steps into the building befor you asked

“How am I supposed to get down the stairs”

Slurring lightly.

He sighed. Not for the last time and leaned down to hoist you into his arms and proceeded with caution as he walked with you. You giggled some more as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging into him.

You were drained. And you wanted to sleep. Leaning your face into his neck you've never felt safer.

When he reached the bottom he placed you down gently and unlocked the door to let you both in. This time just holding you round the waist as you wobbled down the small set of stairs. He then pulled you to the sofa and sat you down.

After doing the usually after drinks things like water and getting you a jumper and some shorts of his he then sat next to you and spoke for the first time since you's had got in.

”are you going to tell me what happened?” he gently pushed. Not wanting to push you over the limit but he was concerned.

Your face fell and you nodded a little and told him very roughly but enough that he understood what had happened. He was angry, to say the least, but knew there was nothing he could do about the disrespectful toad roaming the streets. So he settled to offer you an open arm for you to cuddle into him. You of course jumped at the offer and snuggled into the warm man.

You didn't want to go to bed and Benny knew that. Knowing you'd not have the effort to get up and both being quite comfortable where you both remained.

You spotted a book on the coffee table and looked up at Benny with puppy dog eye that you knew he couldn't refuse.

” will you read to me?” you pleaded.

He chuckled and lent forward to retrieve the book. It happened to be the hobbit. ( I know it's not for everyone but I know it's written before Benny time so apologies please roll with it)

As he started to read chapter one an unexpected party and began describing the hobbit hole. You felt yourself begin to doze off to the soothing tones and his other hand rubbing soft circles on your upper arm.

It wasn't how the night had supposed to go but you were with him now and you felt protected. Knowing he came to your aid.

(with regards to the slap Yes I know this is a little unrealistic it lasting that long but I once got one that lasted a few hours ( I’m not being hit just to clarify it was a joke with some pals who one of them was telling me about a slap match to see how much he could take and the other we were with friend had really went for it and it was actually shockingly sore and my drunk ass went I can take it and he was reluctant at first and then went to go and did it before stating that was hadn’t been hard enough and went again even harder and it left quite a mark and we all laughed so ya. ) but just pretend if you don’t think it would )