#that blank 'why wouldnt i be keeping count?' stare

[mo-ok]

Important Ryouma moments I need people to see part 1/?

bonus:

[bakutae]

haikyuu headcanons #2

today's menu:

a plate of oikawa tooru with a side of akaashi keiji, an appetisers worth of kenma kozume and a tall glass of bokuto koutarou

scenario:

where you try the 'kissing my best friend' trend on him

oikawa tooru

alright, so you were going through tik tok, scrolling through it until iwaizumi walked past and stole your phone, vigorously typing in something in the search bar

so he introduced you to the whole concept and he wanted you to try it out on oikawa cause he desperately wanted to see his reaction

'what if i tried it out on you instead'

'w-what? then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore! besides, oikawa would kill me'

you were confused by what he meant by the phrase 'oikawa would kill me' but you let it go and hastily agreed to do it

you asked iwaizumi to help plan the whole thing, since the two of them were mostly together

you and oikawa had gotten significantly closer ever since you were cheering for aoba johsai in one of their volleyball matches because your friend had practically made you go

and towards the end of the match, the opponent hit the ball too hard, causing it to fly to the audience

all the oikawa fangirls immediately reached for the ball, hoping to toss the ball back to him personally

unfortunately for you, you were swarmed by fangirls and some of them were so aggressive that they actually pushed you away just to get the ball, resulting in you suffering quite the injury

you had no choice but to sneak off to the restroom to treat your wound as the match continued

you were limping out of the toilet and he caught sight of you and apologised to you

he seemed to have taken a liking to you and started clinging onto you quite often, and therefore the two of you grew quite close

it was another one of their matches, but it hasn't started yet and the members of aoba johsai was just wandering around the event venue

as usual, oikawa was surrounded by his fangirls when you sauntered over to him and made sure his eyes were fixated on you, before glancing at iwaizumi from the corner of your eye then briefly nodding

you mouthed the lyrics to 'death bed' and when the beat dropped, you pulled oikawa towards you by the collar of his jacket and pressed a firm kiss to his lips and quickly pulled away

all of his fangirls were yelling in fury and glared at you i wouldnt be surprised if one of them pushed you away fangirls are scary

but oikawa though, he might be shocked for the first couple of seconds after the kiss, then he'd smirk and pull you in for seconds and you panic, glancing at iwaizumi

now you understood why iwaizumi said that oikawa would kill him

akaashi keiji

bokuto was getting on your nerves

ever since you and akaashi had gotten close, he was annoying the both of you constantly, whining about how you 'stole his best friend'

and so, you wanted to get back at him and at the same time, confess your feelings to kill two birds with one stone

you weren't exactly sure if it'd work though, but he's not ignoring you like he does with other girls so you considered it a major advantage

you wanted video evidence on how you stole his potential lover away from him and wanted to see his reaction really badly

so you approached tatsuki, asking him to help you film the whole incident on your phone during one of their trainings, and you managed to get their managers and coach agree too

even the managers themselves wanted to see how bokuto would react to you kissing akaashi in front of everyone

poor bokuto

so one day, during their training, you appeared out of the blue, which made bokuto feel sour already, since he knew that you'd be here for akaashi

so you watched them train and waited till they had their water breaks, when you passed tatsuki your phone, and have him film on the audio that you chose

you counted the beats in your head as you called out to akaashi, eyes still facing the camera to check if tatsuki was filming

he nodded briefly and you approached akaashi

bokuto was talking to akaashi as usual until you tapped akaashi on the back and he turned around and stared at you in confusion

your mind blanked out when your gaze met his and your body froze, though you knew the beat was already off and you should have kissed him by now

face awkwardly breaking into a smile, you hastily flung your arms around him, and kissed his cheek, feeling him stiffen against your touch, but relaxes after a while

the two of you stayed like that for a while before you felt someone tear the two of you apart

of course, it was bokuto

he was frowning and whining at the same time and kept on telling you to 'stop hitting on his best friend'

akaashi simply smiled and stared at you, his gaze instantly softening

bokuto caught sight of that and began to throw his tantrum

tatsuki came to you, phone in hand as you showed akaashi the video, and the rest of the members began to crowd around your small device

'it was a tik tok trend, akaashi. where you kinda confess to your best friend. but i wanted to see bokuto's reaction too'

akaashi's face turned significantly redder and bokuto started sulking again lmao

kenma kozume

i don't really know if you can text your friends through the nintendo animal crossing but let's pretend you can

you and kenma were addicted to animal crossing ever since it came out and the two of you had been playing for days on end, irritating all of nekoma's members but no one had the heart to stop him

you were trying to search up animal crossing hacks on tik tok and downloaded tik tok for that reason only

however, you stumbled upon humans in your for you page, contrary to your animal crossing filled one and you got curious, so you watched it to the end

that was when you learned about the trend and you decided to try it on kenma, with a twist

you were going to type the kiss in chat and find out his reaction through there

you didn't think it was ever done before so you were quite curious as to what his reaction would be

you weren't going to lie, kenma was very attractive, and if he showed any small sign of reciprocating your feelings, it would make you really happy

so you and kenma were on a whatsapp call, while the two of you were catching bugs, trying to catch the biggest one of them all when you told kenma about a hack you saw on tik tok

though you couldn't see him, your heart was still pounding and your hands began to sweat as you waited patiently for his reply

however, he replied through the call

'why are you typing in chat aren't we in a call right now?'

'kenma just play along!'

he grumbled but typed 'okay hit me' in chat anyways

so you quickly typed in the word in the chat and pressed 'enter'

however, you eyes widened in shock as you wrote *piss* instead of *kiss*

kenma burst out in laughter through the call, occasionally snorting as he was chuckling with glee

'did you just... piss on me?'

you didn't even tell him to type in chat anymore

you wanted to die from embarrassment as you felt your cheeks flush red immediately and you tried to explain yourself

kenma was still giggling uncontrollably as you felt your cheeks turn ten shades darker

'i... wanted to type kiss instead but-'

the laughter abruptly died down and you bit your lip, heartbeat suddenly increasing as more silence filled the air

you soon saw '*kisses y/n*' chat bubble appearing on top of kenma's animal crossing character and your heart stopped beating

'l-like that?'

bokuto koutaro

this boy-

he'd probably be the one doing the trend on you because he's too scared of confessing straightforwardly

and he wants to be a tik tok star so he thought that starring a beautiful girl like you would cause the algorithm to show his videos on everyone's for you page

so he brought you to the school rooftop after school and y'all would be talking about schoolwork and things like that when he suddenly pulls out his phone and asks you to wait

he starts frantically pushing buttons on it and you thought he was sending an important text message so you waited for him

until he started muttering under his breath and you could still hear him clearly, but to bokuto he was probably mumbling

'why isn't the audio working? it was working this morning when i checked...'

he nervously glanced at you and you just looked at him in confusion, you had never seen bokuto this serious and nervous before

'WHAT? WHY DID THEY DELETE THE AUDIO AT THIS PERIOD OF TIME? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KISS Y/N NOW'

at that moment he knew, he messed up

you didn't know what he was trying to do, but you kind of got the gist of it

but bokuto was scarred; he was glancing at you with big bug eyes, mouth agape and the grip on his phone loosened as it dropped on the ground

you picked it up for him and caught sight of his screen where it was filled with the captions 'kissing my best friend to see if they like me back'

bokuto would just be frozen the entire time, still not believing that he had just said thise exact words in front of you

it was way worse than straightforward confessions which made him really nervous as he anticipated for your reaction

you found the trend really cute and was really honored that bokuto wanted to try to trend out, especially on you

with his feelings practically displayed out in the open, you couldn't help but tease him a bit

'aww bokuto, are you sure you didn't mistake me for akaashi instead?'

'n-no! of course not! akaashi is just my best friend-'

you had a feeling he was going to keep rambling about how akaashi and his' relationship was purely platonic and you decided to shut him up with a kiss

and damn did it work

but now, he had to worry about what to say when people asked about how you started your relationship and boy was it going to be fun teasing him about it

taglist: @sugacookiies @sushij1ma @shiggywiggy

message me to be added into my taglist!

[endless-array-of-tom]

Nightmares [loki oneshot]

Pairing: Loki x Reader; Loki x family (angst)

Genre: MAJOR FLUFF AND ANGST

Word Count: Around 2,000 words?

Warning: Starts off with some major angst stuff... I warned you

A/N: I’m off hiatus for a bit, and decided that I would be attempting to continue series and finish up/publish the requests that I got from a lot of people. I apologize for being on hiatus for so long, honestly I wasn’t expecting to be out this long. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the requested oneshot!

Summary: Loki has a nightmare, and goes to the reader to comfort him.

     Loki’s gaze wandered to the fields of flowers, staring at the weeping willow by the small shimmering lake. Seeing the small figures playing around, his eyes glimmered. Running through the grassy fields, his arms extended forward.

     “Mom! Thor! Odin!” Loki yelled, his pace began to quicken as they turned their heads. A sudden rumbling made Loki’s eyes widen, he gazed at his family.

     “Run! Go!” Loki screamed, his family only smiled and turned, unaware of what was going on around them. The ground shook again, knocking Loki off of his feet. He attempted to stand again, but the quaking of the ground underneath him was too strong. Tears pricked Loki’s eyes as he crawled, his family only a few yards from him.

     The world split into two. The giant hole was right behind his family, their panicked expressions made Loki’s stomach turn.

     His father was the first to fall. Loki clenched his jaw tightly, slowly attempting to stand up. He didn’t know why there was a small feeling of regret when his father fell, but he wasn’t as important to him as the two others-- who seemed too horrified to move. His knees were buckling beneath him--but he ignored his aching body.

     His brother and mother began to lose their balance. Loki’s vision was soon clouded, as his breaths began to come uneasy. Leaping outward, he grabbed his mother’s and brother’s hand as they began to fall, holding them as his life depended on it. The veins in his arms popped instantly, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his body as he stared at them.

     “I can’t go…” his brother muttered,“... not like this.” Loki’s arms were trembling, his body slowly starting to slip into the hole. Loki’s mother, Frigga, gazed at him, tears forming in her eyes.

     “Honey. Let us go.” Loki shook his head furiously, biting his lower lip. He soon tasted a metallic fluid but refused to think about anything else.

     “I-I c-can’t,” Loki croaked out. “I’ll lose you. I’ll save you. I can do it.” Loki’s arms burned; his whole body began to feel like it was set ablaze. He couldn’t lose them. They were all he had left in this cruel world-- as much as he refused to believe it, pushing them away every chance he got. The truth was now revealed in the worst case scenario. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut.

     “Look at me, brother.” His brother rasped, Loki complied. The first thing he saw was his brother’s icy blue eyes, and how they were filled with sorrow. Loki’s never saw that look on his brother’s face.

     They were always filled with hope.

     Joy...

     Happiness...

     Faith...

     “Loki…” his brother trailed on. “I want you to know… that I love you. I really do. I want you to know that--no matter what, I’ll still keep my promise to you. I’ll watch over you, I’ll protect you. But I need you to be strong.” Loki began to wail, he didn’t want to hear the ending, he shook his head frantically.

     “No. Don’t finish it. I don’t want to hear-”

     “Loki. I want you, to let us go. Live your life that you dreamed of Loki, you think I didn’t see the journals you secretly kept in your chambers?

     “Do what you want Loki. Mother, father, and I--we’ll watch over you from above. And when the time is right--we’ll become a family again. But that won’t happen for a very long time.” Loki stared at his brother’s eyes, seeing the small tears drip down.

     His brother didn’t cry. Because he was strong… so the fact that he was now…

     “Loki, sweetie.” His mother interjected, she brought her other hand up to touch his cheek, Loki tilted his head to her hand, feeling the warmth emitting from it. Tears brimmed from the corners of his eyes.

     “You’ll do great things, never forget that. No matter what anyone says, what anyone might do--you trust your own instincts. We’ll be beside you through your journey, and we’ll help you guide you to your happy ending.

     “I love you, my son. But it’s time for your family to go.” Her grip on his hand began to loosen, Loki panicked.

     “NO! You can’t do this to me! I don’t want you to leave! Don’t leave me! I’ll be able to help! We’ll all be safe-”

     “Loki. Ever since you were little, you despised the word ‘goodbye’, so let’s just say we’ll see you later. Far from now. But we’ll see you eventually. Remember that.” His brother said, loosening his grip as well. Loki’s eyes flooded with tears, tightening his grip on their wrists.

     “You’re not leaving me alone! I can’t be alone! I-I-I won’t be able to h-handle it. Who’s going to teach me to do things? Tell me to take risks? Who am I supposed to look to when I-I’m vulnerable. I-I can’t do this. I want to come with you.” Loki blurted.

     “You’ll do remarkable things without us. Good people who care for you will guide you--and you’ll have great allies along the way. Trust me, Loki.” His mother said reassuringly. Her grip loosened more. “I love you.” His brother’s grip loosened as well.

     “Do well, little brother. Remember--there’s nothing you can’t accomplish.”

     Loki’s mind went blank. The ringing in his ears multiplied, uncontrollably shaking.

     They were gone.

     Loki gasped, jolting from his position in the bed. He grabbed an old mirror; his tear-stained face was disgusting. He looked at the mirror again, seeing the little boy with onyx bangs covering his eyes, his smile brighter than the sun itself. And beside him, were his two parents and elder brother, holding hands with one another. He threw the mirror across the room, hearing it shatter against the wall. He grabbed his tunic, squeezing it tightly.

     He couldn’t breathe.

     His hair stuck to his forehead, he scoffed. He hated his onyx hair. It reminded him too much of them. He checked the time, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to get any shut-eye before his day began.

     His feet moved on their own. Making their way off into the bathroom sink, he twisted the handle, watching the water pour into the drain. He cupped his hands, letting the water fill them--the cold temperature making him feel more empty. He brought the water to his face, letting the cold feeling spread. He turned off the sink and ruffled his hair. He looked up, staring at his reflection.

     “Remember--there’s nothing you can’t accomplish.”

     “But I couldn’t save you.” Loki breathed out. “If I was able to accomplish anything, I wouldn’t feel so broken inside. I would’ve been able to save you, to hold you all.” He stared at his reflection, his bottom lip trembling. “I would’ve been able, to tell you all how much I appreciated you. But I was too selfish to admit that I did.”

     “If I could accomplish anything--I should’ve told you all I loved you. Even when I knew I wasn’t going to be able to see you all for a long time. I could’ve even tell them ‘I love you’ back.”

     Staring at the picture frame, he frowned at the old memory.

     “I’ll see you later, mother.” He muttered, leaving his chambers… “because you never liked goodbyes.”

     He blamed himself for his mother’s death, although he hated to admit it. If he wasn’t corrupted in such ways and shown the bloody monster to the staircase-- she would still be alive-- supporting her idiotic son. His mother was someone truly there for him, and someone that would stick along with him while his father would rant about Thor’s excellence.

     He made his way out of his room, his feet moving on their own. He moved through the empty streets of New York, the flashing lights reminding him of his nightmare.

     Slowly trudging up the driveway, he noticed it began to drizzle slightly. Hearing the rain, he smiled and looked up to the sky.

     He paused his movements, letting the rain fall onto his body.

     “Loki! What are you doing?” A voice interrupted his thoughts, one that seemed extremely worried. Loki opened his eyes, face-to-face with a cross figure.

     “What did I tell you about standing in the rain? Get inside for crying out loud!” The figure bickered, pushing Loki into their house. Slamming the door shut, the figure sighed.

     “I have a change of clothes for you, from the last time you were here.” Loki nodded his head, silent. The figure immediately picked this up but decided not to ask right away.

     “I’ll make us a cup of tea while you change-- after, we can talk about it. Is that all right?” The figure asked, cupping Loki’s cheek. Ice cold.

     Loki nodded, grabbing the change of clothes and made his way to the bathroom.

     “Thank you, (Y/N),” Loki whispered, kissing the top of (Y/N)’s forehead. (Y/N) hummed in response, making their way to the kitchen.

     When Loki arrived in the kitchen, (Y/N) had set the kettle down on their dining table, pouring the hot liquid into two teacups. Turning their attention to Loki, they grinned sadly.

     “Have a seat, Loki. I have all night.” Loki nodded and sat in his chair, grasping the teacup gently. Taking a sip of the sweet substance, he stared at (Y/N).

     “I presume you’re here because the incident occurred again?” Loki nodded slowly in response; (Y/N)’s eyes widened, setting his/her cup down on the saucer. Loki stared at the ground, hearing a chair scrape against the floor. Two hands grasped his, making Loki stare at the figure.

     (Y/N) smiled softly, sitting on Loki’s lap. Wrapping his/her arms around Loki’s torso, [s]he buried his/her face in Loki’s neck, inhaling his scent softly. Rubbing his lower back in small, calming circles, they began to hum softly.

     Loki wrapped his arms around her/him as well, listening to their voice. The silence of the atmosphere soothed him, his breathing beginning to get closer.

     (Y/N) removed themselves from Loki minutes later, leading him to their bed.

     Making their way out of the room, Loki grasped his/her hand tightly.

     “Don’t leave me too,” he pleadingly spoke out. (Y/N) inhaled deeply, tucking herself/himself into bed beside Loki.

     “I won’t Loki, you know I won’t.” Loki frowned at (Y/N)’s statement; would she be around him… and for how long?

     Loki wrapped his arms around (Y/N) tightly, his demeanor changed completely when he was down and depressed.

     In the morning, he knew that he would be back to being a sarcastic know-it-all, teasing his lover to the brink of exhaustion; but in moments like this, he knew he could depend on (Y/N).

     (Y/N) knew that Loki was someone who needed a lot of comforts, he had experienced so much as a child, and not to mention his life overall. And (Y/N) wanted to there for him, not out of pity, but as a sign of commitment; that he/she cared for Loki so dearly, that they were willing to embrace Loki’s differences, and help him overcome his demons he had troubles dealing with.

     It wasn’t hard either. Loki didn’t like to converse about it-- unless he was completely distraught, the sheer touch of someone he cared for around him, was enough to comfort him in the toughest times he faced nowadays.

     You stared at Loki’s sleeping figure, sighing to yourself. No matter how much he did, or what he did, you still loved him; even after all the damn things, he put you through.

     Grabbing your phone, you quickly messaged Tony.

[13:02] FYI, I’m going to be with Loki for a while, so don’t send the damn Avengers like you did last time.

[13:10] All right, thanks (Y/N).

     Shutting off your phone, you smiled and cuddled closer next to Loki. You loved him, everything about him made you feel like you were soaring. And you would do anything to make him feel happy and know that he had a place in the world.

     Your eyelids began to drop slowly, losing consciousness.

...

     What you didn’t know-- was that something bigger was about to emerge from the unknown, and test your limits…

thank you, next request should be up soon!

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Directors commentary on might have cherished you more wisely please

oh GEE that was a tough one

that installment went through probably more genuine rewrites, plot-wise, than anything else in the series

in its earliest incarnation, the way Virgil was going to get in the casket was actually that Virgil was going to get spooked by some mortality thing (i waffled, but one i kept coming back to was that he noticed her getting taller) and flip out, and he was going to kidnap her to fairyland to protect her

i dont delete fucking anything so here’s an excerpt from that version:

“I’mjust trying to keep you safe!”

Greta’swhole body flinched, and she gave startled yelp and clutched at herears.

Virgilgaped, horrified, as she pulled her hand away and her fingers cameback bloodied.

Shestared down at her fingers, and after a long moment her frustratedexpression flattened into something blank and yet somehow stillimpossibly furious.

“Iknow that, Bruderspinne,” she said flatly.

Sheheld her hand out, as if to show him.

“Thequestion is, who’s going to keep me safe from you?”

Durant was going to give her a way to “escape” and trick her into giving Virgil the poison

you can probably figure why i scrapped this - it makes Virgil come across as significantly less sympathetic, and strays uncomfortably close to the kind of territory that Durant gets into, consent-wise.

there was also a version that happened much earlier timeline wise, which featured Greta’s father, and her having to trade them, and similar one where she had to trade Trudi.

in yet another, Virgil actually ran away out of a sort of misguided “i dont want to watch you die,” thing, Durant tricked Greta into believing he’d kidnapped Virgil, and sent Greta on a “quest” to retrieve him. When she found out he’d run away of his own accord, they had a huge blow-out fight, and it was only after Greta wasn’t even talking to Virgilanymore that Durant tricked him into the casket.

that one came closest to being the one i used, but similarly it makes Greta come across as, frankly, a bit of a spoiled bitch, and i knew i was risking a bit with having an “original character” (she’s the dragon witch but considering canon dragon witch has one fucking line im pretty sure it doesnt count) feature so prominently, i didn’t want to give reason a people to like. despise her.

the other major thing about the Dragon Witch Backstory Bits is that the cloak? LITERALLY not possible the way i’ve done it.

this tapestry, woven from spider silk, took 70 people 4 years tomake, and they were catching the spiders and harvesting the silkdirectly from them. Greta had to collectit, one web at a time, and shewas alone. also, on a wild spider web, only the outermoststrands (the dragline) are usable for something like weaving, becausethey arent sticky

so actually, my math isway off – but its off in the opposite direction you’d think itwould be. Only 100 years (with a decent gap in the middle where noone was working on it) is not just fast its fucking miraculous. iteasily could have taken centuries.

i touch on this in-text but - This is Durant mockingGreta. He gives her a task that is completely physicallypossible – there is no riddle,no trick she has to figure out, no puzzle to solve. The only obstacleis that Greta is human, and just doesnt have thetime.

It also end up being his downfall – he gaveher a task he knew she wouldnt live long enough to complete, becauseit never occurred to him that someone else wouldkeep doing it afterGretadied. He only said the taskhad to be completed – he never specified that it had to be Gretabecause why would anyone else care? things like family, loyalty, love - these dont factor in for him, so he assumes they dont for anyone else

Nowon the other hand, this also points us towards Greta’sbiggest mistake – she doesn’task for help. It’s an impossible task for one person but those 70people above didnt even need half a decade.

Andthats it. Thats the whole story, all of Love and Other Fairytales, right there. Nobodyin Wickhills asks for help.Everybody thinks they know best. Everybody thinks they have thesolution, and they all have a piece of it, but you need allthe pieces.

this got FUCK OFF long but i was excited lol

[vellihor]

選擇 ° chpt 1.

genre 》 skz mafia!au

word count 》 1125

warning 》 angst, violence, gore, etc.

__________________________________________________________

韩国。

CHAN

"I HAVE TOLD YOU OVER

A THOUSAND TIMES! WHAT PART

OF IT DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?"

changbin shrugged his shoulders while my voice boomed and resounded through the whole room, possibly the whole warehouse.

i sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"only set the bomb off

if you have to changbin. not as

and when you like. stick to the plan and

let minjung do the talking first."

i breathed out.

i looked up to see changbin shrugging ignorantly and rolling his eyes for the nth time.

minjung was sitting at the couch with her legs on the armrest. with a lollipop in her mouth, she mouthed changbin "i told you so".

changbin rolled his eyes at her. again.

"minjung get over here. and

how many times do i have to

say it ??? no. eating.

in. my. office."

i said without looking

at her, eyes still on changbin.

she walked in front of my desk, casually throwing her lollipop in the bin. her boots muffled by the carpeted floor. shoving her hands in her pockets, she looked at me with a blank face.

i plopped down on my brown leather office chair, i stared at them with a poker face.

"pull that one last time and you

are gonna stick with each other forever."

they widened their eyes and nodded quickly.

"never again."

HYUNJIN

"I HAVE TOLD YOU OVER

A THOUSAND TIMES! WHAT

PART OF IT DO YOU

NOT UNDERSTAND?"

it literally rang throughout the whole warehouse. all three levels of it. yep the whole god damn gang heard it.

we all knew minjung and changbin being partners just literally spelt trouble. but only god knew why chan put them together.

we all froze when we heard chan yell. we all hushed to try to eavesdrop their conversation. i mean it wasnt everyday that we hear chan yelling. but nothing. it was dead silent.

until the door swung open with a bang.

and all of us watched as two idiots bickering while walking out sassily as if their mother had just grounded her two kids for breaking curfew.

minjung walked out with changbin behind her. we could already hear them arguing from miles away. i rolled my eyes and turned back to the pool table. for god's sake keep these two apart already. i couldnt even sleep properly because they were apparently bickering early in the morning at 5am and gave no fucks for the other people trying to sleep. guess what the fight was about. it was both of them waking up at the same time to use the bathroom and they were fighting over who should use it first. i swear it almost ended up in a fist fight. they just didnt want to let the other win. 

if this continued, i would be moving out soon enough.

__________________________________________________________

WOOJIN

"i already told you to trust

me on it. BUT nooooo you

just HAD to do it your way."

"oh great so its my fault now.

i wonder whose brilliant idea

was it to just KNOCK on their

door and talk to them. like oh

hey hi im from your neighbourhood

gang just here to knock the wind out

of you bozos. "

we all looked up at them as they bickered non stop even on their way down the metal stairs and with minjung's combat boots stomping way too loud on the metal.

"well you could have helped me

with my plan so that it could have

at least worked!"

"did you ever ask? no? i thought so."

god changbin and minjung never knew when to stop arguing with each other. i sighed as i threw the tablecloth on the table and hurriedly made my way towards them.

"hey hey HEY cut it out.

come on guys break it up."

when i reached them, they were already at each others' necks, face to face, ready to fight. i yanked changbin behind me by his shoulders.

i held changbin back while yubin held minjung back. they were like kids having a stare-off and not backing down before the other. yubin got fed up and started shoving minjung away from changbin.

minjung eyed changbin one last time before storming towards the shooting range. and changbin taking long strides to his room and slamming the slide door shut.

i sighed and looked at yubin. we both knew only the two of us could stop them fighting because changbin somehow only listens to me although minho chan were also older than him and yubin was the only girl older than minjung. we were absolutely drained from keeping these two ticking time bombs apart almost everyday. it was definitely a plus that yubin was changbin's sister.

i looked up towards chan's office and sighed. i knew that he wanted the best for the gang but this definitely isnt it. these two idiots would only burden the gang further. we just couldnt see how they would be able to work well together.

to be honest yubin was not exactly the calmest person either. let me point out an example out of the many that i have experienced in my past four years with them.

like that time hyunjin and yubin fought over whose fault it was that their target got away. both of them were competitive people so they were always trying to outdo the other. and in the midst of showing off their own abilities during a mission, they let their target slip away.  that day they came back with bruises on their faces. clearly indicating that they fought with each other. both of them were at their peak at that point of time and yubin was one not to be messed with if she got pissed. and hyunjin busted a lip and had a nasty cut on his cheekbone. you would think hyunjin wouldnt hit a girl. oh ho ho yubin came back with a bruise on her cheek, a twisted ankle and scratches on her arm as well. that day the two suffered from chan's and jisung's rage. they werent scared of chan. they were terrified of jisung because he never gets angry.  they apologised to jisung and chan. but apologising to each other? hell to the no.

in conclusion minjung and yubin are absolutely different from your typical ladies. to be honest the guys were flustered when they first met them. the guys thought the girls would fawn over them like the girls on the streets do. however,  these two young fierce ladies would rip throats out with their bare hands if they wanted to.

i sighed as i turned to the kitchen countertop and started preparing dinner. obviously waiting for someone to come and help me prepare dinner for ten kids.

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Danny Phantom Drabble - It Took Me By Surprise

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Title: It Took Me By Surprise

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of death, murder, and blood

Inspired By: artistically-gay.tumblr.com/post/180906397891/it-took-me-by-surprise-the-hatred-in-his-eyes-i

Summary: Ghostwriter knows of his past well and he knows how good he and his brother were together. He thinks that it's long since been time for them to go back to that.

::

“We should wait.” The words were almost drowned out with how quietly they were said, Andrew’s fingers slipping against cool gray steel and pulling out a few droplets of what was now his blood - ectoplasm. Ectoplasm was the name of it, now. He paid it no mind and instead let his neutral gaze slip into a glare. “We still don’t know how many-”

“We’ve had worse odds,” Andrew snapped, sitting up more so he could see over the edge of the shattered rocks they were planted on, a lair just in their sight. “He’s right there. I can kill him myself.” This was his first mission in such a long time, after all, and he wanted to make it count.

“Andrew.” There was no White Fang tonight, just an unsure and unsteady Randy who looked like he wanted nothing more than to return to Andrew’s own lair and forget this whole night. Andrew felt his irritation grow. Randy never could realize the good they were doing, in the old days, and now it seemed he still didn’t understand. “It’s dangerous.”

“Stop being so hesitant.” Standing up, Andrew readjusted his hold on one of his throwing knives, feeling the ectoplasm at the tip of his fingers gather even more as he ran them along the edge. “I’ll kill him with or without your help.” Their target was a ghost, after all. This had only been borrowed time and nothing more.

Randy was silent and still beside him, uncertain look on his face finally fading into something blank and calm as he stood up as well. Two guns, both black and sleek as a piece of the sky, were clasped loosely in his hands. “As you wish.” The words were said softly, but not whispered. Andrew grinned.

“Good evening, White Fang.” Now this was going to be fun. It had been such a long time since the Priest had been able to play with his White Fang, after all. “Death never could take you forever.”

There was no word of defense or protest in any manner, Randy clasping his guns more tightly before launching forward, Andrew taking a moment to admire him before following after. There was no care for the long years that had taken place between now and then. There was only a mission, a target, and his blood slick against his knives.

::

“Stop leaving me out of things!” Andrew’s words were shrieked and torn out of him like glass from a wound, the words bouncing off the walls of his lair as he glared at Randy with everything in him. “You always do this! You always run away!”

“I’ve done nothing but try to keep you safe!” Randy snapped back, face etched into a snarl as he stalked forward, pointing at Andrew. “You’re the one who wants to run away from the truth of things!”

“Me- Me?! I’m not the one who made us run away from home! I’m not the one who ran away from me that day on the docks! I’m not the one who ran away when we tried to find each other!” Andrew didn’t bother trying to quiet himself, only screaming louder and louder as he felt tears start to cloud over his vision.

“Andy…” Randy looked like he was being hit with too many emotions at once, Andrew not able to muster up any of the guilt or pity that he would usually feel. Let Randy feel like this. It was what he deserved for trying to abandon him again. “I’m not- I’m not trying to run away from you.”

“Then what are you doing, Randy?” Andrew let the tears fall, knowing that the path they burned down his skin would be felt even worse by the man in front of him. “If not from me, then what are you trying to run away from?”

“I…” Randy still couldn’t find the words, and Andrew still couldn’t find the way to make him talk. No matter what button he seemed to press on Randy to trigger something, none of them ever let him in. “Forget it. I’ll stay here.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Andrew said quietly, knowing he was flushed from crying and feeling how his voice wanted to break and crack. “Is that so wrong?”

“No. I guess not. I’ll stay, Andy.” There. Nothing to worry about. Randy just needed to remember that they were supposed to be in this together.

::

It wasn’t hard to make the small changes he wanted - all without Randy really noticing. They may have been ghosts, but it wasn’t too difficult to grow out his hair into a nice, short ponytail. It earned him a few odd looks when Randy first saw it, but he didn’t question it, in the end.

After that, it was easy. Black started replacing the gray in his wardrobe before it began replacing the purple, as well. It was so much nicer to look down and see himself wearing black instead of that dismal gray he had fooled himself into liking.

Soon he began wearing his knife pouch again, the pouch firmly strapped to his leg and in just the perfect reach of being able to grab a knife out of it. If he started carrying the knives again, too, well… Randy never said anything.

Then he started humming that song that had been hidden for so long and even that fell on deaf ears. Oh, Andrew certainly saw the looks he was given, but Randy never did anything to stop him, and Andrew had never brought it up.

“Andrew?” He tried, occasionally, but never for long. “Are you, uh… Did your coat get damaged or anything? The purple one? I could fix it up for you, if you want.”

“I just thought I could use some change,” Andrew smiled, the smile soon dropping. “Do you not like it?”

“It’s just… familiar, is all.” The comment had Andrew fighting to hide a smirk. Poor White Fang had been chained away for far too long, this time. Andrew needed to start pulling him out. He must have gotten lost in his thoughts, because Randy took his silence as an end to the conversation. “Nevermind. I guess it’s just my imagination.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Andrew muttered, letting the tears come to his eyes – tears that he knew were acidic. “Do you really think I would go back to that so easily?” Randy had never responded to his tears, but White Fang always answered.

“No- Andy, that’s not what- Of course not.” Randy struggled through the words, but Andrew could see the flash of White Fang curled up in his eyes. Andrew wanted him back. He was so sick of this charade of pretending they were normal.

“Don’t bother. I know what you think of me.” Andrew walked off, giving Randy something to think about as he soon went back to humming. He had no doubt it wouldn’t be long now.

::

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, though. When it happened, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be the Priest and White Fang standing together, claws ready to strike and fangs ready to tear. They were supposed to be a team. They were meant to be a team.

It wasn’t supposed to end with Andrew pinned to the ground and a hand around his throat cutting off any hope of air. If he were human, Andrew had little doubt that he would already be dead. “You stupid child.” There was no Randy on top of him. There was only a ferocious White Fang with nothing except hatred in his eyes.

Andrew couldn’t drag in the breath he needed to form words, forced to do nothing but stare up at White Fang as he pressed him down into the ground, blood (or was it ectoplasm?) covering them both. White Fang had been many things, but he had never been angry. This was anger. This was anger.

“We could have been happy. We were surviving. Why would you take us back.” The words were hissed in French, a language that had once meant warmth and comfort and now only filled Andrew’s stomach with cold dread. “You stupid, stupid child.”

It took longer than he wanted, but it wasn’t just anger in White Fang’s eyes. It was White Fang’s anger, but it was Randy’s fear. Did… he really not want to return to how they used to be? He had never complained in the past. Did Andrew really push him so far that he hadn’t even been able to say no?

There was hatred in White Fang’s eyes and fear in Randy’s. Andrew couldn’t breathe and there was ectoplasm (blood) covering them with old weapons just in reach. Andrew could only stare as he took it all in, utterly surprised, because, well. White Fang’s hatred he could have handled, but Randy’s fear of him?

The hand around his throat loosened, White Fang gone and Randy left looking at him with shaking shoulders. “We could have been happy, Andy.”

Well… If Andrew was reduced to nothing but the murderer, then at least he had a liar standing beside him.

[boop-bri]

Try Again

Written By: Admin Hobicat

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader (ft. Hoseok)

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 4,751

AN: Here’s part two to Experimenting I’ve been meaning to upload. With the way I ended it I almost want to make a part three. Idk if I should though. If you guys think so let me know. The ask box is open if anyone wants to request something. I’m currently working on a Jeonghan smut 👀 lol. I can’t add a link to the first part yet 😥😥 but if you want to read it cause you haven’t just click on my page and search masterlist and the story will pop up along with my others. I need to make a masterlist eventually though lol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So when’s the last time you’ve seen Yoongi?”

“It’s been about a month now I think. I don’t plan on seeing him again. He broke up with me so what’s done is done.”

Hoseok scoffed, rolling his eyes at my comment. Hoseok and I sat in a cafe outside of the boys dorm. It’s mostly just us hanging out, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to develop very small feelings for him. Ever since Yoongi and I broke up Hoseok has been by my side trying to cheer me up any way he can.

“You know he talks about you a lot. Its obvious that he misses you. Maybe you should come by and talk to him or something.”

“Why would I talk to him? He. Broke. Up. With. Me. I’m trying to move on Hoseok. It’s for the best anyway. All we do is fight when we’re together. Why should I be with him when he continues to act like talking to me about our problems like a normal adult is too hard for him.” Hoseok frowned, taking a sip of his coffee, before nodding.

“Yeah I get that, but this could give you closure. You both obviously need to resolve some things.”

“I don’t know Hoseok. I’m not really up for talking to him right now. Especially after the last argument we had.” Every time I think about the fight my heart begins to hurt. Flashes of that moment began playing in my head as if to remind me why I needed to move on.

“What’s your deal Yoongi? Why are you bitching at me over something as stupid as me wanting to eat your ass? I thought you liked it? We haven’t even had sex in almost a week.” This was the fifth fight Yoongi and I have had since last week.

“I do like it, but you keep constantly asking. I’m not always up for it yet you still beg me. I’m not always up for sex (Y/N). Besides sorry I have things to do other than tending to your wants.” I was baffled. Yoongi has never talked to me this way before. Sure he could say some snarky things when he was in a bad mood, but this was different. He almost seemed angry towards me and not at whatever issue he had.

“Beg you?! I’ve never once begged you for shit Yoongi. I thought since you liked it so much that you’d just be up for it all the time. Excuse me for not knowing. Is it too much to want your boyfriend to pay attention to you and want you sexually? It never was a problem before so why are you making it one now? Whatever issue you have doesn’t give you an excuse to come at me like this.” Yoongi kept his back to me, continuing to work on whatever he was working on. I could feel my anger rising the more he didn’t turn around to face me. This whole ignoring me thing he seemed to be doing more often when we fought was getting old very quick.

“It felt like you were begging me for it. Look it doesn’t even matter. I’m really busy so I don’t have time for any of this. I have songs I need to finish soon. I’m just going to go to the studio and work there. I’ll see you later.” Finally Yoongi turned around to face me, a blank look on his face, before moving towards the bed to grab his jacket. Stepping in front of him I stared him straight in his eyes.

“You always do this Yoongi. When we get in a fight you just up and leave and don’t come back till the morning or stay at the dorm. I’m tired of it. If you can’t stay here and talk to me like an adult then what’s the point?” Yoongi looked past me looking annoyed at me stopping him.

“I have to finish these songs. I’ll be back later.” Yoongi walked around me on his way towards the door. All the anger I’d been feel that’s just piled up along with him just constantly blowing me off was finally too much.

“If you leave now don’t bother coming back Yoongi!” Time seemed to slow down in that moment. As I turned to face him, angry tearing filling my eyes, I hoped he would just come back and hug me. I hoped he would turn around and tell me he was sorry and say what was wrong with him. I waited what felt like forever then he finally moved, towards the door.

“I’m serious Yoongi! If you leave we’re done! I can’t keep doing this with you! All this fighting constantly only for you to leave and ignore me like I’m not even here! I’m over it!” Silence. Yoongi still kept his back to me seeming to pause for what felt like forever before he opened the door. My heart felt like it was sinking into the pit of my stomach as he walked out with his back to me, and just like that our relationship was done.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” I blinked as my mind came back to the present. Hoseok had a frown on his face while his hand touched my shoulder.

“I’m fine. I actually have some stuff I need to do so I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. You still coming over Saturday to hang out right? Yoongi is gonna be busy all day so you won’t have to worry about him showing up. You’ll be gone before he comes home. He’s been staying late at the studio a lot.” My heart hurt a little bit to hear that. He always buried himself in his work and neglects himself when something bothers him. Hoseok got up from his chair, walking with me to open the door and leaving out with me.

“Yeah I’ll be there. Thanks for hanging out with me for a little bit. See you Saturday.”

After hugging we went our separate ways. I

I couldn’t help but to glance back towards their apartment and to my shock there Yoongi stood across the street. He just stood there staring at me like he’d never seen me before. My heart began to ache the longer we looked at each other until finally he turned towards Hoseok who had made it over to him.

That having been the first time I’d seen him in so long I didn’t know how to react. Had he seen Hoseok and I hug? Would he ask Hoseok about me? Why did I even care? My heart immediately went into overdrive and I quickly made my way to my home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally it was Saturday. Just getting off of work I was beyond tired and making my way towards the boys dorm. After seeing Yoongi those few days ago I felt strangely more excited to go over to hang out with Hoseok. Maybe it was because I hoped Yoongi would show himself. Or maybe I was just excited to be around Hoseok.

“Took you long enough to get here. The pizza was getting cold.” Hoseok said as he opened the door.

“Oh shut up. There was traffic. Are you gonna move so I can come in?” Hoseok stepped to the side to let me in and once inside I immediately glanced around for any sign of Yoongi.

“So you’re sure Yoongi isn’t gonna show up, right?”

“Positive. He texted me a few minutes ago that he’s gonna be at the studio for most of the night.”

“That’s good.” I mumbled. That was a lie though. I almost felt disappointed that I wouldn’t see Yoongi.

“Where’s the rest of the boys?” I asked when I noticed how quiet it was. It was rarely ever quiet when I use to come over to see Yoongi.

“They went out to see some movie and go eat. It’s gonna be just for awhile.” Walking towards the couch I could feel this sense of longing come over me.

I hadn’t been in the dorm for awhile. It was almost weird not seeing Yoongi sitting on the couch with his headphones on waiting for me. Flopping down onto the couch, the smell of pizza filled my nose and immediately my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten dinner yet since we planned on eating pizza and I was beyond starving.

“Sounds like someone is hungry. Let me go get some plates. Why don’t you find a movie on Netflix we can watch. Just don’t make it scary.” Rolling my eyes I scroll through Netflix and just to spite him I ended up picking a scary movie I had planned on watching on my own. I mostly picked it as a joke to see his reaction, but a small part of me really wanted to watch it.

“Got the plates. (Y/N)! I said no scary movies!” Hoseok pouted as he sat beside me.

“The movie probably isn’t even that scary. You’ll be fine. If you get scared just cover your face or something.” I said jokingly. Hoseok huffed and bit his lip as he looked at the screen.

“But…” I could tell he was getting a little freaked out at the thought of watching this movie. I almost changed my mind and picked​ another movie, but before I could pick the remote up Hoseok grabbed it first.

“Alright fine. I’m brave I can handle it. You’re right it probably won’t even be scary.”

“You know we dont really have to watch this. I mostly picked it to mess with you.” Hoseok shooked his head and puffed his chest out as if to show how he could handle this.

“Im a big boy (Y/N). I can handle it.” I almost wanted to laugh. We both knew he wouldnt be able to handle it. Halfway through the movie hell probably want to turn it off.

“Alright if you say so. It’ll be fine. If you get too scared I’m always here.” Hoseok nodded, grabbing some pizza and placing it on his plate. Following his lead I grab some as well then before he pressed​ play.

The movie started playing and so far Hoseok hadn’t even flinched at the cliche jump scare the movie started off with. I was starting to think he wasn't​ as scary as he claimed to be. That was about until halfway through the movie when a scare that even got me popped up. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone yell so loud. Hoseok grabbed on my arm, pulling me closer to him, till I was squished up into his side.

“You okay?” I felt the need to ask. It was my fault we were watching this movie that he would probably get nightmares from.

“I’m a little better now that you’re closer. Fuck I didn’t think the killer was gonna pop up like that.” I was a little too stunned to reply back to him considering what he’d just said. The small part of me that was beginning to develop a crush on him didn’t know how to respond so I just decided to stay quiet.

For the rest of the movie Hoseok and I sat cuddled up together, holding each other every time something scary was happening. I had completely forgotten about hoping Yoongi would show up. At some point during the movie Hoseok had grabbed the blanket behind us and placed it over us. By the time the movie had ended I was starting to feel a little sleepy and I think Hoseok could tell.

“Hey if you want you can lay on the other end of the couch and put your feet on my lap. I don’t mind. You must be tired from work.”

“I am a little tired, but I’m okay. I’ll just stay right here, if you don’t mind.” I could feel Hoseok tense beside me before he relaxed.

“I, uh, I don’t mind. Wanna put on another movie?”

“Sure. I promise I won’t pick something scary this time.” Hoseok chuckled, his chest rumbling against my ear. I felt so soft in that moment. His laugh was one of the things I liked about him. Even when he just chuckles I can’t help but smile at him.

“I appreciate that. I don’t know if I can handle another scary movie.”

For the next few hours we just sat and watched movies to pass the time. Occasionally making a game out of the movies to make them more fun. By the time the last movie finished playing it was almost ten o'clock. I was beginning to get more tired, but I was so comfortable laying against hoseok I really​ didn’t want to move to go home.

“Its getting pretty late (Y/N). Maybe you should be getting home.” He was right. It’d be smart to leave now before it became too​ late. The boys were probably on their way as well. I was just having too much fun being with Hoseok.

“You’re probably right. I have to get up a little early for work tomorrow anyways.” I sighed, sitting up away from Hoseoks side, before moving the cover off of me.

Glancing over at him I was a little surprised to see him staring at me with this look on his face that made my chest tighten. Hoseok smiled at me, handing me my phone off the table and my chest tightened some more once our hands brushed together. Hoseok was always attractive to me yet I only ever considered him like a friend. Especially when I was dating Yoongi.

“I guess I’ll be going now.” My voice came out almost like a whisper as we stared at each other.

“That’d be the best thing. Its getting late after all.” I nodded, but didn’t make any signs of moving. Neither did Hoseok.

He actually began moving closer, his hand that was on top of mine moving up my arm. Hoseok had moved so close now. So close all I had to do was lean forward just a little and our lips would touch. His hand was now resting against my cheek, warming my skin. I felt like I was floating. This moment didn’t seem real, but I almost didn’t want it to end. There was a nagging voice in the back of my mind that I couldn’t make out.

“(Y/N).” Hoseok whispered softly. My body shivered as his thumb stroked my cheek.

“Hoseok I-”

“Do you want me to stop?” His face moved closer, our noses touching at this point.

A part of me wanted to tell him to stop. That this wasn’t right. He was Yoongi’s friend as well as mine and we had only been broken up for a few months. Yet another part of me that had an attraction towards hoseok wanted to keep going. To see what it’d be like to kiss him. I shook my head, not having a voice to tell him not to stop. Hoseoks eyes seemed to light up just before our lips touched. Instantly I felt tingles as our lips moved against each other in sync.

Hoseoks lips are so soft, a lot softer than I thought they’d be. Sliding my hands up his back I grabbed onto the back of his hair, licking his bottom lip for entrance and he let me in without a fight. Our tongues pressed together, softly stroking each other, as I moved to straddle Hoseok. Things were starting to get heated the longer we kissed. Hoseoks hands were stroking my sides under my shirt and I hadn’t even noticed I’d started lightly grinding against him until he let out a soft moan.

“What the fuck!” My body froze at the sound of the door slamming closed and the familiar voice yelling at us. I quickly got off of Hoseok. My heart was racing a mile a minute.

“Yoongi! I thought you were staying at the studio?” Hoseok stood up from the couch, running a hand through his hair, as he looked everywhere but at Yoongi who was fuming by the front door.

I couldn’t help but to stare at him. He looked skinnier than the last time I saw him like he hadn’t been eating that much and if the dark bags under his eyes were anything to go by he hasn’t been sleeping that much either. Why did my heart hurt to see him so drained.

“I was, but I felt tired so I decided to come home. It’s a good thing I did too.” The earlier anger in his voice was now gone and replaced with the indifferent tone he would use when we fought.

“Look, Yoongi, it’s not what you think.” Hoseok said making Yoongi scoff.

“Well what I think is that my ex and one of my best friends are hooking up behind my back. Is that not true?” I still hadn’t gained the courage to speak up. I hadn’t seen him in so long and for this to be the way we see each other again was not how I wanted it to happen.

“We’re not hooking up behind your back.”

“Sure looks like it to me. Look you know what I don’t care. You two do whatever the fuck you want. I’m going back to the studio.” Yoongi glanced over at me and I don’t know if it was the sad look in his eyes​ or the fact that he was leaving, but I suddenly felt like I had to speak up.

“Yoongi wait!” Yoongi stopped, his hand just about to reach for the door and stood there.

“What do you want?” I flinched at the cold tone in his voice.

“We need to talk.”

“Too bad I don’t want to talk to you.” Yoongi opened the door, preparing to walk out again, but stopped last minute.

“Fuck it. Fine you want to talk, let’s talk.” I don’t think I’d ever seen Yoongi move as fast as he just did to walk over to me and grab my arm. He pulled me out of the living room towards his and Jimins room.

“Wait slow down Yoongi.” Yoongi threw the door open, pulling me inside then slamming it behind him.

“You want to talk. So talk.” He walked away from the door with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Everything that I had wanted to say to him. Everything that I had kept bottled up inside of me for so long suddenly just vanished now that we were alone in the room.

“Don’t you have something to say? Aren’t you going to try to justify why you were about to sleep with my friend? Aren’t you going to fucking say something?”

“I wasn’t going to sleep with Hoseok.” I said softly.

“I doubt it. If I hadn’t have walked in when I did would you have stopped him?” I thought it over in my mind and realized that yes I would have stopped him.

“I would have. I never intended for it to go that far. I never intended to even kiss him. It just happened. Besides we’re not together Yoongi. I can do whatever I want.”

“You’re right. You can do whatever you want, but why with my friend?” Yoongi took a few steps towards me as he talked.

“I told you already it just happened! He’s my friend too!” I took a few steps towards him as well.

“You two sure look like more than friends to me. Why don’t you just admit that you like him. Probably have since we we’re together. I saw the way you two would look at each other. How long have you two been fucking each other? While we were together? Since we broke up?” I froze. I couldn’t believe he had just said that. Just accused me of fucking Hoseok while we were together. Is that what he thought of me?

“So that’s what you think of me? You think I’m some slut that would cheat on her boyfriend? You really must not know me then Yoongi. Is this why you would act like such an asshole to me? I can’t believe you. You’re such an asshole I can’t believe I was ever with you. You can go fuck yourself Yoongi. I’m leaving.” Turning around to make my way towards the door I didn’t even get halfway there before he was stopping me.

His hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me until my back was pressed against his chest. I just stood there not knowing what to do or how to react. I was angry at him, so angry, but I was sad too. Sad that we had gotten to this point. We use to be so happy together and now all we do is argue.

“I’m sorry (Y/N). I didn’t mean that. I’m just angry and hurt. I’m sorry. I don’t think you and Hoseok had anything going on. That wasn’t  the reason I was such a dick to you.” A part of me knew that he hadn’t meant to accuse me like that, but that didn’t make the hurt go away.

“Then what was it? Why do we always fight so much Yoongi? What happened to us?” Yoongi didn’t answer me. He just wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his forehead against the back of my head.

“It’s my fault. I’ve never been good at expressing my feelings and every time you wanted to talk all I’d do is push you away. Im just so stressed. Between making songs pretty much all day, practice and the tour we’re about to go on I’ve just felt swamped. That doesn’t make how I acted right. I should have just talked to you about things. I’m sorry.”

“Do you even love me Yoongi?” Yoongi tightened his arms around me more.

“Of course I love you.”

“It doesn’t feel like you do.” I said as I moved away from him. I turned to face Yoongi, tears filling my eyes as I looked at him. I was so tired of the constant fighting between us. Yoongi didn’t answer, just looked down to avoid my eyes.

“Why do we even bother trying? We’re not good for each other Yoongi. If this is all we do then we don’t need to be together and make each other miserable. If we can’t even talk to each other about our problems why bother.” Yoongi’s head snapped up to look at me and there was a fire in his eyes.

“I love you (Y/N). I’ve barely been able to sleep since we’ve broken up. I’ve hardly been eating. All I do is think about you. I’ve written so many songs about you since I can never get you off my mind. You have no idea how much I fucking miss you all the time. Every day I hate myself more and more for fucking up and walking out on you. Every day I regret it and I’ve been thinking constantly about how to win you back. I know I hurt you and ruined us, but trust me when I say I won’t make the same mistake again. ” Every word he spoke pulled at my heart while my mind screamed to just leave.

“I miss you too Yoongi. I miss you so much I would cry myself to sleep at night. We may have our good times when we were together, but there’s been more bad than good. Being with you is just so hard. If you’re not making music all the time then you’re gone halfway across the world or busy. I dealt with it cause I love you, yes I still love you, but I don’t know if I can do it again. Not if all we’re going to do is argue over stupid things. Not if you can’t talk to me.” Yoongi shook his head, his hands grabbing ahold of mine.

“This time will be different I promise. I won’t just walk away and shut you out anymore. There’s nothing I can do about being busy, that just comes with being an idol, but I promise to try my hardest to make time for you. Please give me another chance. I don’t want to lose you again​.” I could tell Yoongi meant every word he said, but the hurt I still felt made me hesitate to try again. Then there’s the fact that I do have some feelings for Hoseok. The feelings may be small, but they’re there.

“How do I know that though? How do I know that you won’t push me away anymore? Communication is a big part of being in a relationship Yoongi. You have to talk to me when you’re stressed. When you’re upset about something you have to talk to me and not pick stupid fights over small things. I don’t want to do this with you again only for us to end up back like this.”

“I understand (Y/N). Of course we’re going to fight. Every couple fights that’s normal, but we’ll have more good times than bad times. I’m sure of it. You mean the world to me and when I left it felt like my world crumbled​. Please just give me one more chance. I won’t fuck up this time.” That was the final thing I needed to hear from him to make all the doubt I had go away. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my heart. It would take some time for us to be the same in our relationship, but I was willing to give it another shot. My love for him was strong enough to try again.

“You know I really love you Yoongi. It’s going to take some time for us to get back to the way we use to be, but since you’re so willing to try so will I.” I could feel a smile make its way across my face as Yoongi pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly to him. Happiness began swirling up inside of me the longer we hugged. I had really missed him. I missed hugging him and just being with him. Even with what happened with Hoseok earlier I knew being with Yoongi was what I wanted more.

“But what about Hoseok? You two kissed. Do you like him as more than a friend? I know he has some feelings for you whether he’ll admit it or not.”

“I’d be lying to you if I said I didn’t have a small crush on him, but it mostly came from how nice he was being to me while I felt hurt. He was there for me Yoongi. The kiss was nice, but it honestly doesn’t mean much to me I promise. It really just happened and it went too far even though I did like it. I’ll have to talk to Hoseok though.  I need to make sure we’re going to still be friends after that.” Yoongi pulled away from me with a frown on his face.

“Did you like his kiss better than mine?”

“You want the truth?” Yoongi nodded his head, his body tensing up, as if he was waiting for the blow to his ego.

“Hoseok is a great kisser to be honest but there was no spark between us when we kissed. Though when I kiss you Yoongi I always feel like my heart’s going to burst with emotion. So I’d say your kiss is better.” I almost wanted to laugh at the satisfied look on his face. Even though I’d just lied about not really feeling anything in the kiss I knew it was for the best.

“I love you Yoongi. Don’t hurt me again.”

“I promise I won’t hurt you. I love you (Y/N).” Yoongi pulled me into another hug and I felt beyond happy. Yoongi’s hand softly stroked my face, his thumb rubbing against my lip.

“Are you going to kiss me already?” I asked. He smirked and shrugged as if to tease me.

“I don’t know. I think you’ve done enough kissing for one day. Don’t you think so?”

“Oh shut up Yoongi.” I said with a smile on my face as I pulled him towards me for a kiss. Just like I expected I felt nothing but sparks while butterflies filled my stomach. This was the right choice I could feel it in my gut. I just hoped things would be okay between Hoseok and I.

[trouvvaille]

[[I want this here for reasons... i love this so much, and it needs to go on this blog]]

vvicissitudo hey meen hey did u see im on for nearly fivve days noww

brackishbarracuda im proud tbh

vvicissitudo yeah? i feel accomplished

brackishbarracuda how long have I wanted u to interact w ppl istf

vvicissitudo i mean i wwouldn't call this accomplished but i feel that wway

brackishbarracuda I do shut up

brackishbarracuda don't actually shut up

vvicissitudo ahaha i lovve you i aint really TALKIN to people offerin idle comments maybe

brackishbarracuda it's a start

vvicissitudo yeah yeah it is am i uh doin good

brackishbarracuda you could stand to loosen up a bit

vvicissitudo yeah true but u kno me prickly af they gotta get thru the hard shell first

brackishbarracuda it helps when you give em half a chance

brackishbarracuda they aint gotta b best buds right off the bat u can b a casual friend

vvicissitudo u really think im bein TOO prickly

brackishbarracuda i just want u to have a chance to get out more clams

vvicissitudo i like wwhere im at

vvicissitudo besides most a these guys they aint gonna be here in six perigees

brackishbarracuda casual friendship enjoy em while it lasts get a decent conversation an if they dont come back oh well

vvicissitudo i guess so hmm but half a them aint replied to me or commented on my followw

brackishbarracuda so let it go and start another one later ppl got lives

brackishbarracuda whats up w u tho

vvicissitudo listenin to music up top lookin at the wavves s gonna rain not storm i think just rain

brackishbarracuda u wanna go for a swim when it starts

vvicissitudo shore its alwwavves nice

brackishbarracuda what uh

brackishbarracuda I mean we ain't talked reely much

vvicissitudo do wwe gotta?

brackishbarracuda and I got quads commin outta my ears

vvicissitudo ahaha that u do wwhat wwould wwe talk aboat me still feelin shitty ovver the other night? cause thats a thing

brackishbarracuda we aint gotta

vvicissitudo there aint much i feel that needs t be talked aboat

besides the wwhole thing ww... that.

i feel guilty

is it my fault?? wwhat can i do for that

but uh

other than that, nah. storms an rain an wwavves are good

talkin about that spill earlier tho got me itchy ZZ3B\

brackishbarracuda ive been takin deep breaths and movin em

vvicissitudo yeah

does that help

brackishbarracuda no

vvicissitudo tried pourin spring wwater dowwn my neck

felt nice but ddn't wwork

brackishbarracuda I just been tryin naut to think aboat it sometimes they ain't wanna open and I half panic for a second also it ain't ur fault also what do you think about the bouys 38/

vvicissitudo thats terrifyin to think aboat

noww i gotta open mine up an check em

ugh

wwhat you really think so?

an uh, wwhich bouys

brackishbarracuda yeah u didnt force her hand she fucked up an she shoulda been straight w him and i tried to fuckin tell her that but no an the clowns

vvicissitudo They're good. I aint too much talkin to em yet Tho uh.

Wwhich clowwns

brackishbarracuda clams the two im datin zee and arlequin

vvicissitudo I kno that... Just wwondered

Theres a lotta clowwns U kno i nevver paid much attention to em

brackishbarracuda would u

vvicissitudo Pay attention? Noww, yeah, I'm startin to

brackishbarracuda theyre good people

brackishbarracuda an i want u to be a part a all a my life vvicissitudo

i wwant to be part of it all a it i didn't followw any clowwns before an noww that i do

its hard

vvicissitudo i keep seein the text, the wways they talk an i see you happy an i feel bitter aboat me because you're my happiness u got a full house im glad for u

brackishbarracuda nearly anyway

vvicissitudo i just hate myshellf rn its nothin that

vvicissitudo its nothin to wworry aboat itll pass

brackishbarracuda i alwaves worry aboat you

vvicissitudo i hate wwhat loz did meen i hate it i think i'd rather havve just had one heartbreak to deal wwith i didn't evven get any closure i got to kiss him once i got to hold him as he fuckin died along wwith you an wwhere does that leavve me

vvicissitudo in limbo wwaitin wwonderin wwheres my makara wwheres my red wwheres the one wwhose gonna fill that hole an then i see ur makaras an i feel terrible cause i don't

vvicissitudo want to get to knoww them because i knoww ill just get hurt an i knoww they aint mine evven if i wwant them to be part of this family an its part a wwhat i posted aint no one talked to me last night i mentioned arlequin once in his owwn post

vvicissitudo that other captor  nevver replied to me evven after i said somethin that other ampora, the wwhiny one he liked posts datin back a wwhole swweep an pike a hundred posts besides im trying, i swwear for you but i dont my heart aint in it i dont i don't knoww wwhat to do here anymoray

brackishbarracuda you keep tryin

vvicissitudo been almost a wweek a godamn record that ivve been on doin social things

brackishbarracuda an im proud a u for it

vvicissitudo i got you thats al i got its all i wwant

brackishbarracuda an im tryin my damdest to help u change it

vvicissitudo i aint wwant to be hurt no more meen

vvicissitudo prince or princess charmin is comin to me this tide i wwanna knoww ur makaras but not ovver social media i wwanna knoww em wwhen they're ovver for tea or  sleepovvers or meetin the kids or meetin me

vvicissitudo it feels useless. *i* feel useless

brackishbarracuda you dont want to know where id b without you

vvicissitudo youd be sadder

vvicissitudo probubbly givven up by now

brackishbarracuda id be dead

vvicissitudo wwhat about ur cro

brackishbarracuda what the fuck about him

vvicissitudo wwould he havve found you or wwould you havve been dead beshore then

brackishbarracuda long fuckin before then

vvicissitudo wwhat wwould havve happened i can see u runnin urself into the ground

brackishbarracuda runnin myself into the ground bitin off more than i can chew gettin pissed and sad and naut havin a good enough reason to naut do stupid shit

brackishbarracuda every single tide you patched me up every single tide youve found me when i was low every tide you talked me outta somefin or made sure i was safe i mean fuck clams you saw what i looked like w/o u for a fuckin perigee

brackishbarracuda efin if id never met you you know how closed off i was how angry id have gotten into a fight i couldnt handle burned myself from the inside out

brackishbarracuda itd a been the oil clams

brackishbarracuda efin if naut literally cept thered b nobody to clean me up to carry me home to show me what the fuck home /was/

brackishbarracuda i wouldnt a had the kids oar you oar vis

brackishbarracuda you are fuckin necessary

vvicissitudo u wwouldn't havve evven had loz wwould u i i just realized that it wwas cause a me you met

vvicissitudo wwasn't it the first big thing wwas wwhen tavv tried to "help" me

brackishbarracuda i woulda had rez and fangs and they woulda left me and thats it

vvicissitudo yeah. wwhat about noww

brackishbarracuda i aint efin shore i woulda had sally

vvicissitudo pike are you happy noww

brackishbarracuda all i know is i aint happy w/o u

vvicissitudo awwww

brackishbarracuda youve literally saved my life so many dam tides mine and sallys and the wrigs does that sound useless to you

vvicissitudo you an the wwrigs are the only ones wwho seem to appreciate me yes, you're the only ones wwho count really an truly u remember wwhen u took me to that play

brackishbarracuda yeah

vvicissitudo an they stood in a roww an thanked us personally for comin i wwant that i wwant it all the tide i wwant people appreciatin me i tell people im wworkin on somethin to make helmsmens livves after the helm better i get "its impossible"

brackishbarracuda that aint a good example clams u kno how hard it is to accept good shit when it aint in your hand

vvicissitudo i tell people im a docterror an a chemical engineer an i get "so wwhat else do you do" i tell people im a reader a wwriter

vvicissitudo a pacifist an i get blank stares an topic changes i get fivve note threads on this hellsite an then nothin thats howw it alwavves goes

brackishbarracuda did u think for a minute that maybe ur just ten levels above everybody else an they aint kno how to talk aboat that shit

vvicissitudo i mention my name an people are pike "who" an i gotta say "eridan" before they realize an then they assume wwrongly a me i aint wwanna be smart if it means no one wwants to talk to me

brackishbarracuda ur doin good shit clams bc ur smart

brackishbarracuda bc a whats happened to u and who you are

vvicissitudo am i a good person

brackishbarracuda betta than me by a long shot

vvicissitudo wwhy i dont wwant to be better than u i wwant to be ur equal

brackishbarracuda then get me to where u are and dont u dare lower urself for anybody

vvicissitudo > You're stunned into silence for a bit.

brackishbarracuda i aint the best person in the world i aint that smart

brackishbarracuda im shit at p much anyfin that aint kissin somebody oar fightin em you aint

vvicissitudo or makin someone feel good aboat themselvves u do a damn good job of that

brackishbarracuda shut up for a second that aint the point

vvicissitudo im cryin AND laughin ill havve u knoww

brackishbarracuda good 3B* point is you deserve a crown more than i ever have

vvicissitudo wwhhat

brackishbarracuda you can patch ppl up and help people w real cod dam problems w real applications you kno history and all that shit you read you write you study ur in ur lab u work hard too hard but u aint a useless bump a log

vvicissitudo but you aint wwanna rule

brackishbarracuda do i look like i could manage anyfin close to rullin rn by myself

vvicissitudo that aint the point u don't WWANNA rule

vvicissitudo period do you??

brackishbarracuda why do you think i asked dirk to let me do political shit

vvicissitudo but wwas that because u foresaww this convversation or because you wwant to

brackishbarracuda its pike i told him im tired a runnin

vvicissitudo yeah?

brackishbarracuda yeah

brackishbarracuda idk wtf good is gonna come outta it but

vvicissitudo i can name good

vvicissitudo u bein by my side me being by ur side are you sure u wwanna do this last chance to back out u knoww

brackishbarracuda i aint got nofin to rule clams its kinda far from a last chance but yeah

vvicissitudo alright then

vvicissitudo so uh wwhat rule wwhat the wwhole planet?? this uh provvince, this continent, this bit of planet wwe call home i mean theres things wwe gotta think of

brackishbarracuda hb we just start w the bit were on yeah

vvicissitudo so wwe need to get scoutin parties together to see HOWW big it is an if anyone else livves on it an if anyone else livves on it then we gotta dispute

vvicissitudo buy their land rom em in exchange for goods or services a emperor aint bein servved hes servvin others pike wwe provvide food or electricity an they trade us

brackishbarracuda clams calm down

vvicissitudo ideally rn wwe feed their family/take care a their land in exchange for their servvices in helpin us scout out- wwhat oh

brackishbarracuda do u kno how many tides i had to retype clams calm bc lemme tell u

vvicissitudo uh oops

brackishbarracuda too much at once aight lets just

brackishbarracuda keep our shit to ourselves baby steps yeah

vvicissitudo babysteps yeah ideally this thing wwe livve on is only an island otherwwise wwe got barriers to wworry about pike cae said

brackishbarracuda either plan on defendin what u got or be ready to run right i aint runnin

vvicissitudo i lovve u <>

vvicissitudo u an ur beautiful soul

brackishbarracuda i love you too

brackishbarracuda <> <><><><><><><><><><><> aight im done im good thats outta my system

vvicissitudo thank you for listenin

brackishbarracuda you aint quaded to me for my looks 3B*

vvicissitudo damn right im quadded to u because of u

[samanthasroberts]

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

[adambstingus]

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/167431371812

[allofbeercom]

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

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Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2iTRz6N

from Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship