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sugurus-slxt · 3 years

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are you tired of this? - Iwaizumi

Type: angst (happy ending)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of mental illness

Note: Y’all are married in this story and um I’m not so if I mess up well I sincerely apologize

Hope you guys enjoy the story

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Thursday [11:15 p.m.]

“I just came home a little late what’s the fucking problem?” He shouted at you for the second time tonight. “I didn’t say there was a problem Haji. I just wanted to know what came up,” you spoke softly trying to keep a calm composure. The truth was your insides were shaking, every possible bad thought that you could think of hurtled at you over and over. You were just worried something had happened to him, your anxiety had calmed since he came home but it seems you had made one wrong move and here you were. “And I already told you the boss needed me to do some extra paperwork to take in some new trainees,” he spoke harshly but a bit calmer than before. He pinched his nose bridge between his fingers. “I’m not having an argument with you right now, forget it. I’m going to shower,” he turned to walk away from you but you grabbed his hand.

He turned to face you, “What!” He exclaimed loudly making you nearly jump out of your skin. “The dinner i-its getting cold… umm do you want me to heat it up?” You asked hoping he’d calm down, but it seems tonight was different he just got even angrier. He grabbed your wrist tightly, “What the fuck do you think? Dammit all you do is worry and cry! Now you don’t even have common sense. Sometimes I wonder why …” he stopped, words dying in his throat. Tear welled in your eyes; it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was going to say. Forgetting the pain of him squeezing your wrist, you shouted at him for the first time tonight, “Say it! Say it Hajime!” He stood mouth hanging open, not one word. You couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down your face. There wasn’t one emotion but instead too many, everything you’ve bottled tonight had busted like a dam.

You tore away from his grip, every inch of anxiety, depression, panic, all the emotions were pouring out of you in tears, sobs and every word you cried out next. “What! You don’t know why you married me? Huh? Is that it Iwaizumi? Well I’m so sorry I worry about my husband ok? I’m sorry that I can’t control when I get depressed. I’m sorry that every day I pray for you to return home safe. Tell what else you wonder about me! Tell me!” You pushed him as hard as you could. “Do you really wanna know what I think because I don’t think you can handle it,” he asked in a scarily calm tone. You knew you weren’t prepared for what came next but your emotions clouded your judgement. Neither of you meant anything you said, you knew that. Well you hoped because you know you hadn’t meant any of it. Every fiber in your body loved this man but tonight you weren’t backing down even if it meant you’d get hurt. “Go ahead!” You shouted pushing him again.

“Dammit stop pushing me! I’ll tell you but don’t blame me because you asked for it,” he never backed down. He knew that would be best right now but he didn’t care today was hard and he was just mad that you couldn’t get that. “You cry too much. You worry much. You get things wrong all the damn time. Something as simple as cleaning the house can end up in a disaster. I am always fixing you fucking messes. Not to mention you are so childish. For fucks sake grow up. Sometimes I wonder why I married you yeah ok because I’m so sick of this,” he stopped, he wasn’t shouting but his tone was angry as he belted out everything he though was wrong. “Haji- I,” you didn’t know what to say. Everything had gone numb. You thought that he didn’t mean it, but he seems so serious so calm. It was scary, it was as if he knew he wanted to say this for a while. May he was tired of you, tired of this, was he going to leave you. He continued but his voice softened, “Sometimes I just want to scream. I get off all of my steam hitting that punching bag till it breaks but nothing helps like letting it out but I’m not mad. I really am not. I'm frustrated and I’m tired. So tired angel. So fucking tired” He hung is head looking at the ground and you looked at him but you just couldn’t see him clearly, the tears blurring your vision as you asked the scariest question of them all, “Are you tired of this? Tired of us?”

He just gave out a sad chuckle and you caught it somehow, in the moment you caught it, the tear that fell on the ground. You’ve never seen him cry. This was different for Iwa and you just looked at him as he sat leaned against the wall. You tried drying your tears and went and sat cross-legged next to him on the floor, looking at the ground as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The silence was deafening but it didn’t stay like that for long. “Tired of this? Yes Tired of us? Never,” he said softly. Your head shot up, “So you’re not leaving?” He turned and wiped the remaining tears from your cheek and smiled with his tear stained face,” I could never leave you” He smiled it was warm and genuine.

“I wouldn’t rather do any of this with anyone else. Even if we are fighting. It's ok to make mistakes. It's ok to cry. It's ok to be sad, to be worried or to feel to not do anything. I know this isn’t easy for you. In fact I wasn’t even mad at you tonight, I was never mad at you to begin with. It’s just… ” He says cupping your check and stroking it with his thumb. Your wide eyes held anticipation, “T-thank y-you for saying that. And thank you for b-being honest with me. Even if you said it didn’t make you mad, I- I still want to try for you but Haji I know there’s more so p-please tell me,” you pleaded stuttering in between.

He moved his hand from your cheek and rested them on his knees as he turned to look straight ahead. “I was mad at myself because I always seem to mess up. I –I promised to make you happy, keep you safe and healthy but it seems like I always cause your despair or make your bad days worse. I make you cry, I don’t spend enough time with you. Babe you’re a trophy wife but I don’t think I’m you’re trophy husband. Hah maybe I should have let shittykawa have you all those years ago. I’m sure he’d always make you smile. Gosh… that beautiful smile. B-baby I-I’m so… so …sorry,” he broke down sobbing into his hands. You couldn’t believe it, all this time you thought that you were hurting him and always messing up but he was thinking the same. You huddled closer to him placing the words together on you head.

“Now you listen to me and let me finish o-ok H-haji,” he raised his head to look at you, tears still spilling out of his eyes, you bent forward and kissed them away and he smiled just a bit. “I love you. Only you are ok. Sure I cry, sure I worry and yes it’s about you but it’s because I love you. I’m going to do that no matter how the day turns out. God dammit you could be with me and I still worry because I never want to lose you. My depression and anxiety are always going to affect me but I always rest happily at night because you wrap me in your strong arms and tell me just what I need to hear. You make me feel like the most special girl in the world. Not a day goes by that there isn’t at least one happy moment for me and that is because of you Haji. And never give me to Oikawa. I will kill you myself if you do,” both of you giggle a bit, “You are the only one for me. The only one can make me happy. You are perfect for me in every way possible. I love you so much,” your cheeks are flushed and eyes puffy but you smile not because he needs it but because even now you’re happy with him. He bends over pulling you into a tight hug, “Thank you. Thank you. Gosh I love you so much. I’m supposed to be making you feel better but still thank you,” he buries his face in your nape. You whisper, “You already did.”

You both sat there for a bit just enjoying each other’s warm embrace. He finally rises up and lifts you along with him. “Let’s go take a warm shower together. We can eat dinner and maybe watch a movie. Maybe cuddle too. No definitely cuddle I think we need that. Ok with you baby?” He looks down at you for a response, “Of course I’d never say no to cuddles but don’t you have work tomorrow?” You ask heart-warmed by his gestures. “Nope. Not anymore. I’m taking a day off. I’m spending it with you. I’m gonna make you smile all day and we can talk about everything but tonight just enjoy each other,” he said kissing your forehead. “If you’re sure. I’m so lucky to have you. I love you so so much,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. His lips molded against yours perfectly, moving in sync. You break the kiss, hiding your red cheeks in his chest. “Hmmm. Six years and years with me and you still get flustered. How cute?” he chuckles to himself. “Hey it’s not my fault my husband is practically a Greek god.” He sets you down and pulls you into a hug, “And yes I’m sure. I’m just as lucky to have you, I love you my goddess.” You both spend the night just bathing in each other’s company and love.

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khadij-al-kubra · 4 years

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Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

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Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon*

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that.

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy; he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses. “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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suekre · 3 years

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So ive followed you a VERY long time (like from the deviantart days lmao) and i only just realised that you were talking about ocd in that post. Just wanted to let you know that i have ocd as well and god it is exhausting and i know exactly how you feel! I finally start therapy for it in 2 weeks. Pls know that i love your art and you very much and appreciate everything you create and share with us. All the best!! X

Hey you, I know you! Thank you for coming to my inbox and sharing this with me, I appreciate that so much. :) I am SUPER happy for you that you are about to get the help you need, that is awesome. I wish I could have had it at the time!

(And oh boy, the good old deviantart days, haha! Always happy to have my longtime followers around! :D)

OCD is exhausting indeed. People who aren’t affected can’t imagine what a nightmare it is. I, personally, am more prone to intrusive thoughts than actual obsessive-compulsive behavior. When people hear „OCD“, they usually think of obsessive hand washing or „leaving out every black tile while walking through a kitchen“ or so, while it can manifest in other ways. I didn’t know back then. I just thought I was going completely crazy at the time. I think I mentioned my disorder at times but I never actually openly talked about my own experiences (where I come from, mental disorders are a big NO NO, because it’s all in your head, just pull yourself together, other people are ACTUALLY suffering, it’s just dumb thoughts, you just need to think positive, y’know).

I kinda feel like doing it now. Just to get it out, and also to occupy my brain and hands and hey, maybe someone else can pick this up and find themselves in my own experiences. I sure know how relieved I was when I found out I wasn’t alone with my what I thought was a ‚Very Weird, Unique and Niche Problem‘.

I gotta admit first - I’m doing much better nowadays. Even my worst days, as horrible as they may feel at the time, do in no way compare to the hell I went through in the second half of 2015. I have come a long way since my last (and so far worst... omg, oof, I hope there won’t be another) episode of intrusive thoughts. But, oh boy, was it intense. It was the absolute worst time of my life, ever. I’m not writing this to scare anyone. Anyone who is familiar with this, will know how bad it is and anyone who can’t relate at all won’t feel affected anyway and will maybe even think something along the lines of „What the fuck?!“. I get it. It DOES sound crazy.

I have always been an overthinker. I always needed more validation and reassurance than other people around me and for the longest time I had no idea why that was. It was usually subtle - always kinda there but never strong enough to actually affect my life in a negative way. I just felt off at times, and not always super good. But I was generally ok, I could always manage.

Until that one episode that changed my life forever. I know that sounds dramatic but, even though I am in a good place nowadays, it sure DID change my life. I was 31, I lived together with my then-boyfriend and I still remember the exact date. Friday, July 24th, 2015. I remember the exact moment when my entire mind collapsed. It’s so weird, it literally happened from one second to the other. I am not making this up to sound more dramatic, it was a matter of seconds.

I was on my way home after work and I felt… restless and stressed. It felt good to get off work (it was my first full time job and... it didn’t go well, to put it nicely) but I was no longer really looking forward to my week off, and our trip to our favorite Open Air the following week. I picked up some dinner on my way, I came home, and I saw my boyfriend in the middle of the living room, he was making some preparations for our upcoming trip. When I saw him, tall and handsome and smiling at me, I smiled back but inside I felt like crying. My smile was fake. Kissing him felt weird, and also fake. And all of a sudden, there it was. The life changing thought:

„I don’t love him anymore.“

A simple thought. I had weird thoughts before, like anyone does, but they never had any greater impact on me. This time, though, that one thought knocked me off my feet. Not literally, I had turned into a pillar of salt somehow. This was the Perfect Man Of My Dreams (at least that was what I thought back then). The man I wanted to spend my life with, the man who made me happy every day! How could that even be, how could I even think something like that?

I felt even more restless. I didn’t tell him, of course. When he asked how my day was, I put on my fake smile again and said it was okay. We ate our dinner (although I had instantly lost any appetite), and I kept looking at him and the thoughts... just kept coming back.

You don’t love him anymore. What if you don’t love him anymore?

On repeat. It was awful. I just couldn’t shake them off.

It’s the stress, I tried to tell myself. You’re overworked. It’ll be good, you just need some rest.

But I couldn’t relax. My heart was racing, my blood was pumping. I didn’t know what was going on. I begged him to leave his work undone and take me out for an after work drink and he agreed. All the time, the thoughts wouldn’t leave my mind. I didn’t want to think them, but they were merciless, they just kept coming back. I felt so helpless.

A few drinks later, I had calmed down a bit, at least so much that I could stand to look at my BFs face again without feeling guilty. There you go, I said to myself, not quite convinced, you’ll be good. It’s already wearing off. When we crawled into bed later, I was tired and relaxed (and tipsy) enough to sleep and convinced that this was just a little glitch, that things would be just fine in the morning.

When I woke up, I felt exhausted. My heart was racing... and the thoughts came back IMMEDIATELY.

You don’t love him anymore. You gotta leave him.

What. The. HELL!? Why are these thoughts still a thing? Why are they still there? Why do they keep coming back?

I kept trying to push them away but the more I tried, the more intense they became. As if they tried to spite me. I started losing focus on everything else around me, the world slowly started to blur. It was just Me And My Thoughts from here. I tried my best to hide my state, and I think I managed for a while, but I felt like a robot any time I talked to someone. When people would pick up on my confusion, I usually brushed their concerns off. It’s nothing, I’m good.

I mean... how do you even tell someone that you just. can’t. stop. thinking. about whether you still love your boyfriend or not? According to the world, that is something you “just feel and know” after all. Except that I didn’t. I had no clue. I couldn’t feel anything. But, according to the world, that was perfectly normal, too. “Honeymoon phase is over at some point, babe. That’s everyday life, you grow comfy, it’s no longer a flash of feelings every day, you know that. You guys have been together for a while after all, what did you expect?!” ... what I felt didn’t feel like comfy everyday life either, though. Comfy everday life shouldn’t come with high key anxiety, sleepless nights and a loss of appetite at any lived second. If that was comfy everyday life, I sure didn’t want it.

So, what do you do when you have no clue about something? Right! Google! Go and ask the world! “How do you know that you still love your partner?”, “Is the love gone?” ... I spent hours, DAYS doing that, but no answer I found was remotely statisfying (or maybe it was for a minute, but the reassurance never lasted long) and I felt that those articles didn’t actually understand what I was asking in first place. I would spend every day like that. Permanently asking myself the same questions, analyzing myself, testing if the Big Feels for the man had decided to come back... nah, not really. Maybe NOW? If I just look at him close enough?! ... maybe if I squint a little?! Fuck, still nothing! Niente! Nada! I am a horrible person, aaah!

(Our open air trip was an emotional disaster by the way, I felt horrible all the time, and the permanent rain didn’t help. -3/10, do not recommend).

If I had known at the time that I wouldn’t spend just a few days but (more or less) six months with this shit... oof. I was already exhausted after those few days.

Over the course of the next weeks I stopped eating almost entirely. I just couldn’t. This permanent tight anxiety knot in my stomach made me want to throw up at the mere thought of food. At my worst point I weighed 138 lbs (63 kg), at 6 ft 1 (1,85 m). I often joked about how I had almost reached runway model standard. I was sick, I was weak, I was scared, but I just couldn’t eat and the bits I DID force myself to eat were burned almost right away by my crippling anxiety. (I still have clothes from that time, and I sometimes beat myself up for no longer fitting into them before I remember that I should NEVER fit into them EVER again.)

Instead I smoked a pack a day. I hardly got any sleep and when I did, it wasn’t relaxing. Always in Fight and Flight mode. My body was at alert level any minute, any day. I’m still asking myself how it could be that I never actually... collapsed. I was always tired, exhausted and malnourished... I dunno, you tell me.

The thoughts never really disappeared. They kept coming back in all variations. You don’t love him anymore. You have to leave him. You may not want to, but you have to. You don’t love him. I had very few “good moments” in between but in those good moments, my mind was usually frantically looking for explanations and reasons behind all this. For ways to improve my relationship, to feel better about my boyfriend. I came up with the WEIRDEST shit. Almost every day I found something new that bothered me. One day he was a little boring. That’s it! We gotta go out more, do more stuff, that’ll change everything. ... aaah, no. Guess not. The next day, it was something else. The day after THAT, it was something entirely different again.

I was suddenly prone to making some HELLA weird impulsive decisions, too. „I gotta break off contact to that one person RIGHT now, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!“, “I gotta talk to my mom about THAT particular incident in my childhood right now, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!”, “I gotta make a trip to the mall JUST NOW, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!”… the decisions made total sense to me the second I made them, for about ten minutes at most, but the initial rush of relief started to fade again quickly and I frantically started looking for new solutions. Google was my best friend. I couldn’t go a day without googling exessively. Overthinking, pacing, googling. Any day, any hour awake. Over weeks. A few months even. My mind was constantly reeling. It was a bottomless pit.

I cannot put into words how exhausting that was. Sometimes the idea of throwing myself out of the next window seemed SO tempting, not because I wanted to die, but because I wanted the thoughts to stop tormenting me.

(I was out of regular therapy at the time, btw. I thought about calling my therapist about it but never did it. I felt isolated, I literally thought I had to do this all by myself.)

At some point, a few months into it, I somehow transferred to zombie mode. The thoughts became a little less intense over time. They were never gone but not quite as nagging anymore. But any time I wasn’t in alert mode, I felt just hollow instead. Sucked dry of any joy, of any emotion, of any sign of life. I just... functioned. Still tried to hide it. I dunno how well I did with that. Probably not at all well. I kept it all to myself, just because it felt that ridiculous. Tried to find excuses. “I’m just tired.”, “You know, there’s a lot going on in my head right now, but I’ll be good.” ... truth is that I don’t remember a whole lot of that time, it’s all blurry. There are just a few significant moments.

Such as that one evening, after work, when I left the building, made a few steps and stood five (or ten? fifteen??? who knows?! not me.) minutes on the spot, motionless, because I could no longer remember my way home.

I got fired from that job, by the way. I’m sure it was mostly due to low performance, I get it, but I can’t blame my poor state alone - they were also assholes.

Anyway.

I had, of course, never stopped the googling and one day, after hours of browsing any niche I hoped I hadn’t browsed yet, I somehow found a blog written by a young woman like me. The description tackled almost all of my thought patterns and I was blown. away. She asked herself the very same questions, with the very same twists, and... she even had a name for it.

ROCD. Relationship Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

I cried for what felt like hours. Out of relief. There was a person in this world who knew exactly what I was going through. And she even had tips how to overcome it. It wasn’t the first time I had heard about OCD, but as it had never affected me in any way before (I, too, associated it with compulsive hand washing and tile jumping), I wouldn’t have thought of it. After doing my own intense research on the subject, a huge part of me and my life finally started making sense to me. Not much was known about ROCD at the time, but it kinda didn’t matter anyway. What mattered was the OCD part. The subject of the thoughts is entirely interchangable. It’s the chain of thoughts itself that has to be broken. Don’t focus on the relationship. Break the chain instead.

The internet also recommended exposure therapy but as therapy wasn’t an option at the time (weird German laws... regular health insurance covers only a limited amount of therapy lessons within a certain span of time and I had used mine up and there was no way I could pay myself), I decided to try it myself, the key points being:

* No more googling, no more reassurance. Learn to live with the uncertainty, learn to live with Not Knowing.

* Let the thoughts happen. Watch them pass by. They’re just thoughts, they can’t harm you. Don’t fight them, just recognize them and let them stay, they’ll get less scary over time.

* Focus on other things, as hard as it is. Try to occupy your mind and your body. Any minute you spend doing something else but brooding is a win.

It all sounded so very abstract at the time, but I was determined to give it a try. Oh gosh, was it hard. After months of emotional torment and getting used to unhealthy ways of coping, it was SO DAMN FUCKING HARD to NOT google. To NOT think. It felt like torment all over again. How was I supposed to just let the thought sit with me!? It was scary, I didn’t want it! Just ONE little peek, only a second, come ON! I won’t do it again after that?!

Oh god, it was the worst, it really was. Trying to break the chain while I was so desperate to save my relationship was terrible. I honestly don’t remember HOW I made it... but I made it. I somehow... clawed and bit my way out of it. I went right through the pain and made it. It’s not actually a linear process but there comes this point (and I know a few people I met on online platforms who would back me up on this) when you know the worst is over. You just know it. Things weren’t exactly good by the time the thoughts were history but I had reign over my own head again, I could actually SEE the world again, and that was worth everything plus my body weight in gold.

I’ll stop right here because the following months weren’t about my OCD anymore, but about figuring out needs, figuring out myself and what I wanted from life and this particular relationship and it’s not quite relevant and another story. (I DID love my ex-BF but it turned out he wasn’t at all good for me, I had ignored all the red flags for too long, and it didn’t take long after this for us to go separate ways)

I hated this particular time in my life while it lasted but I have learned and taken so much from it. It has changed my life in so many ways. I learned that things are never set in stone, not for anyone. That there will always be uncertain times on our ways. That change is always scary. That it’s okay to be scared. That staying in crappy situations for the sake of it isn’t always the right thing to do. Sometimes, doing the right thing (aka leaving a relationship that isn’t good for you) can make you sad. Love does not equal compatibility.

Looking back, I am - in a very bizarre and twisted way - grateful for the experience. It was an incredibly important lesson for me that taught me to be kinder to myself, to look out for myself and to listen to my own needs. That I should put myself first at times. For the first time of my life, I really got in touch with myself and my own emotions. I learned to understand them, I learned where they come from. I learned to cut myself slack at times.

The list goes on and on, but you get my drift. I know myself inside and out at this point. That wasn’t always the case. Not until 2016.

It still comes back at times. Not with such full force, but it keeps creeping back in, pretty much any time I have to deal with uncertainty in my life. Bad news at work, not hearing from a friend for a while that I’m dying to hear from (inevitably thinking that they MUST be mad at me) or when I spot a few symptoms of sickness that I’m not familiar with (I practically never get sick). Not Knowing What Will Happen drives me CRAZY. I hate uncertainty, I need my life to be stable and calm to fully function.

Now, in COVID times, it’s mostly the fear of suffering from an incurable disease. AGAIN. I’m familiar with that, too. I’m not even scared of catching the virus, I just fell right back into overthinking any symptom I have, even if it’s just a short pain in the neck or whatever (you know, things that one usually brushes off). When my life was busier, I was MUCH better at handling those thoughts. Most of the time, they didn’t even come up in first place. Sitting inside and avoiding contact 99,9% of all times, and having little to no actual distraction („reading/watching movies“ doesn’t help me personally, it does’t occupy my mind enough, I usually just stare right through the pages/screen), however, leaves FAR too much time for the thoughts to unfold, once they come up.

This subtle but lingering concern for my health puts my body into a permanent state of anxiety once more. Fight and Flight mode. The pace of my heartbeat is always slightly, but perpetually, increased. It isn’t always outright panic attacks, it’s this constant state of having to be… alert. Something MIGHT happen, y’know. Be prepared. Relaxing and doing nice things becomes almost impossible. Instead, I get tired and exhausted. Depressed, even. It sucks the joy right out of me. I feel like living under a glass dome. I see what’s happening around me but I am unable to connect, emotionally. People keep living their lives and I can watch them, but I can’t be a part of it. It’s a deeply crushing feeling. I manage to somehow function but I don’t really feel alive. My abandonment issues and fear of „getting left behind“ kicked in again, too. I want to catch up and take part but can’t so I stress myself over THAT, too. This only adds to the exhaustion and makes me feel even more isolated.

Hello, vicious circle, my old friend.

I didn’t even realize that I had such huge potential to fall right back into it. It all started… I dunno, by mid/end of January?? It’s a bit blurry this time. It is directly connected to Germany’s recent lockdown, though. A massive case of Not Knowing How Things Will Turn Out. I failed to take better care of myself in the past few weeks. And now I’m here. AGAIN. Ugh.

But well, as I said, it’s not as bad and, as I said, I have at least learned some important things over the years. In this particular case of intrusive thoughts, the first rule is: NEVER GOOGLE SYMPTOMS. And never google shit like „chances to survive (whatever illness think you have at the time)“, either. The mind longs for reassurance but googling symptoms is BAD, as we all know by now. It’s not even reassuring when you do it. Because you’ll inevitably end up diving through the vast internet for HOURS, picking up an entry that some person named Kevin made on a cancer forum way back in 2004, saying that his uncle died the next day after finding out he has cancer and that is, OF COURSE, what will happen to YOU, too. There is no other way. YOU WILL DIE.

Excuse the text walls. I took an opportunity to ramble about my own experience, for the first time ever since it happened (not including the few short talks I had with the few people I met on internet forums).

To anyone who made it this far: Thank you so much for reading. It sure felt good to write this down for once, even if it’s just a short summary (yes, really, I mean, we’re talking six-ish months here), and the descriptions fall woefully short. If anyone affected by the same happens to read this - I am so, SO sorry you are suffering so much. You are NOT alone and you are NOT weird. Talk to someone. Open up. To your doctor, or you therapist, if you have one. To a person you trust. It is the worst but there are ways, there is help. I wish I had known at the time it started for me.

You know now. :)

P.S.: DON’T FUCKING GOOGLE:

#ocd #rocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #relationship obsessive compulsive disorder #mental disorder #sanne rambles

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Photo

richboy!seonghwa (part 5)

word count: 5k

angst, fluff (tw: attempted sexual assault)

(part 4) (series masterlist)

it wasn’t until you were standing in front of yet another mansion that you were starting to regret saying yes to seonghwa’s offer.

because you were truly hesitant from the start. between how well things were going with your new classmates and the fact that parties and social gatherings were way out of your comfort zone to begin with, it sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

you had insisted over and over in the car that it wasn’t a good idea, that people already hated you and that you don’t even know anybody.

“you know me,” was his simple logic.

“so what, i’m just supposed to just follow you around all night?”

“yes.”

that, on top of the way he asked (or commanded rather) with his pleading eyes and soft voice made you feel a little bit more inclined to go.

because maybe a part of you secretly wanted to go and just experience something like that for the first time. put your fears and anxiety and nervousness away for just one night.

(or maybe you’re just lying to yourself and stupidly infatuated with this man).

“i don’t know seonghwa, i’m not really-”

“i’ll bring you home the second you wanna leave.”

you gave him a pleading look which was only met with a blank stare and it was at the moment you knew he wasn’t gonna drop it. so, you decided to be brave and agreed reluctantly. he gave you a smile before putting his number in your phone so you could text him when you were outside.

and now your eyes were scanning the house in front as you waited for a reply, grand pillars and two balconies overlooking the front with immaculate landscaping and a row of luxurious cars lined up in front. you bit your lip hesitantly, hearing the bass from the music and the loud, drunken chatter through the open windows.

your phone pings and you scoff when all he writes is ‘come to kitchen’ because how the hell were you supposed to know where that was in an establishment like this.

you opened the door and were immediately hit with noise. loud booming noise coming from everywhere, the already drunken couple fighting at the bottom of the grand staircase, the loud edm music blaring out of two giant speakers, the clattering of beer glasses in the next room over.

five seconds in and you already knew this was an awful idea.

but you have no choice but to power through because it’s too late now and you didn’t spend the past two and a half days mentally preparing yourself for nothing.

so you peak to the right, to the left and then straight ahead before deciding to go left. people were stumbling all around you, beer pong tables taking up an entire room that was much too pretty and expensive to have alcohol spilt all over the marble floor.

you haven’t been to many parties but you know for a fact this isn’t a normal house party. because this just seems like something out of a movie and you’re really trying to ignore how fancy everyone looks in their button up shirts, couture dresses, and high heels while you’re here in jeans and one of your ‘nicer’ shirts and sneakers.

you move into the hallway where a couple is pressed up against the wall, her shirt nearly off and the guy’s hand inching into the waistband of her pants and you’re so flushed you think you’re getting a fever.

or at least you hope you are because then seonghwa will have to take you home.

upon turning the corner, your eyes focused on the floor after witnessing that, you promptly bump into someone’s chest. you smack into the wall with a wince, the slightest sound of an annoyed scoff ringing through your ears.

“i’m so sorry,” you say frantically, “oh my gosh, are you okay?”

you look up to the man you bumped into and your first thought is while he’s super attractive, he looks a little too old to be here.

“i’m fine,” he laughs out, steadying you by the shoulder with his hands gently, “i should be the one asking you that.”

an awkward fake laugh bubbles out of you, “oh yeah, i’m fine! the walls are a lot harder than they look…and okay what an odd thing to say, obviously the walls are hard,” you mumble out only for the boy…man, grown man in front of you to cackle.

“i meant are you okay here? you look a petrified.”

a breathy laugh leaves your mouth and now you know you’re nervous. “oh, yeah, i was just looking for the kitchen,” you tell him, “my…my friend told me to meet him there as if i know where it is in this mansion. there’s probably three kitchens!”

you feel a little less scared when he smiles warmly at you, turning you around with the hands still resting on your shoulders.

“i’ll show you, he doesn’t sound like a good friend,” and before you can defend him, he asks, “what’s your name?”

“__,” you tell him. his low whisper of “pretty” in your ear causes a feeling to flood through you; you can’t detect what exactly it is but it’s causing the pressure of his hands on your body to make you feel slightly uneasy. “can i get you a drink before i drop you off to your friend?”

your eyebrows furrow at his word choice, a quiet hum leaving your mouth before you shortly reply “i don’t drink.”

the man guides you into the kitchen and off to the side where a full bar is stocked, people perched on barstools and two girls laid out doing body-shots. it reeks of alcohol and sweat and is followed by more rambunctious laughing and chatter.

“oh c'mon, you probably just haven’t found anything you like,” he says lowly in your ear, “i’ll make something for you.”

“no, really, i’m good but tha-”

he shushes you with a finger to your lip and you immediately pull yourself back, a visible grimace on your face that goes unnoticed by him. instead, he throws you a wink before jumping over the bar and pulling out a cup.

you stand there with your arms at yours sides, lost and uncomfortable and wanting to find seonghwa so you can get out of here or at least be around someone you know.

out of your peripheral vision, you feel a pair of eyes on you, the intense burn of someone’s gaze boring into your face, but when you turn, you don’t see anybody you recognize.

when it happens for a third time, you start to fidget and might risk calling your mom to pick you up. but then the mystery man is back, cup in hand with a charming smile on his face.

“here, try this, babe,” he says and you hesitantly take it despite your heart pounding and body stiffening, like your body’s trying to warn you about something.

but you sniff the drink, mystery man laughing in the background, before taking a sip and are pleasantly surprised when you actually like it.

you take another sip and he smirks down at you, eyebrow raised, “you like it?”

a tiny smile crosses your face, lips brimming the cup. “i do, what is it?”

“cherry vodka sour, most lightweights who don’t drink tend to go for it.”

“hey!” you screech, smacking his arm lightly and a small laugh leaves his mouth, “sounds like you know my kind.”

“i definitely do,” he says, eyes shifting down to roam your body and now you regret contributing more to the conversation.

eyes are burning into the back of your head again and just as you turn around to check, you see seonghwa making his way toward you.

your breath catches in your throat, both from the way he’s staring you down and how the blue shirt he’s wearing is clinging to him just right, a tiny bit of sweat grazing his forehead but making him look like he’s glistening.

“y/n,” he says, voice deep and eyes scanning the boy behind you, “what’re you doing?”

“i-i got lost because i didn’t know where the kitchen was,” you say meekly and he tries to ignore the pang in his chest when you’re looking at him like you’re being scolded, when he should’ve came out and got you in the first place.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve got you,” he says, eyes softening when he meets your gaze and then turning to ice when he stares at the man behind you, “what’re you doing with her?”

does he know him?

“just acquainting myself with the newbies,” he says and his voice sounds a lot different now, went from warm and friendly to dark and sarcastic, “why, did you take claim on this one?”

seonghwa only rolls his eyes, pulling you by the arm to put you behind him protectively. “stop coming here, jackson, you’re fucking old and it’s getting creepy now.”

you immediately put your drink to your lips and sip to hide your laugh, you knew he was too old to be here!

“such a little dick, aren’t you park.”

the boy you now know as jackson shuffles closer to seonghwa, attempting to threateningly stare him down. but seonghwa is so unfazed, looking back at the man with a smirk that makes it obvious he’s not taking this as seriously as him.

“relax, tough guy, we’re going now,” he says to him before leaning in a little closer and mumbling something.

but you hear jackson say laugh, asking almost in disbelief, “are you threatening me?”

seonghwa steps back and puts his arm around your waist, eyes never leaving jackson’s.

“no, i’m telling you,” he says sternly and by his tone, you know the conversation is over.

so he drags away from the bar, stiffened body slightly relaxing when you finally make your way over the other side of the crowded kitchen.

“don’t talk to him,” is the first thing he says to you, plopping you down on an open barstool.

you take another sip of your drink, eyes wide as you turn your head to the side. “you’re the one who made me come through this giant house all alone! how was i supposed to know where to go?”

his eyebrow raises at your sassy tone, trying to hide his smirk because a part of him likes that you’re like this with him. but it always seems to be when you’re alone.

“i’m sorry,” he says, honesty in his tone, “you’re right.”

you take another sip before licking your red lips, taking in the cherry taste mixed with the slight burn of alcohol.

“did…i just hear seonghwa say i’m sorry?” a new voice says, “no, this can’t be possible!”

you turn around to see a short boy with black hair, your lips pursing to the side because he is cute.

“this fucking loudmouth,” seonghwa says and you cover your mouth so a laugh doesn’t bubble out of you.

the boy who cackles lightheartedly, throwing the back the rest of his beer and throwing it in to the nearest garbage can. or at least, he attempted too. because he misses and it shatters all over the floor.

“oh fuck.”

“wooyoung!” another new voice says, another short, skinny boy with blazing eyes, “pick that shit up now.”

“i’m sorry, joong, it wasn’t my fault, really.”

“oh? so you didn’t just launch that glass bottle with horrible aim?”

your head snaps back and forth between the two boys, guzzling your drink down as if you’re watching an entertaining movie.

a guilty laugh leaves his mouth and you watch with a small smile as the boy tip toes over to the broken glass. the boy he called joong looks you over, eyes darting back and forth between you and seonghwa until a smirk crosses his face.

“hi, i’m hongjoong,” he says, tiny hand coming up to wave at you.

“hi,” you squeak out, cheeks red because there are far too many attractive men around, “i’m y/n.”

“oh, i know” he says, smirk widening when his gaze moves to seonghwa who’s shooting him a warning look, “i’ve heard all about you.”

“oh?” your voice cracks and a blush covers your cheeks, lifting your cup to your mouth because now you’re nervous and need something to do; but you’re shocked to realize it’s already empty, the last remnants of liquid on your lips.

“oh yes, nonstop actually.”

“hongjoong…” seonghwa’s deep voice warns.

“oh shit, wait, this is the new girl?!” the black-haired boy says, “isn’t she…” he looks around before whispering, “poor?”

“wooyoung, what the fuck,” seonghwa growls, pushing the boy back harshly. a giggle leaves your mouth because for some reason the way he says it doesn’t make you feel bad. it should but you think he just might be…playful?

“see, she knows i was kidding!” he says, tickling seonghwa’s chest causing the boy to roll his eyes and shove his hand away.

“but really,” he continues, “we’ve heard lots about you.”

“let me guess, poor and stupid?” you mumble out because really, what else has there been?

“and pretty. very pretty and…intriguing.”

seonghwa inhales sharply next to you and pink covers your cheeks because every boy at this school must be as attractive as they are rich.

“i’d say the order is probably, pretty, poor, stupid…what do you think seonghwa? do you agree? where does intriguing fall on the list?”

“i think we know where stupid lies on yours,” he snaps, pushing the boy back once again.

you watch the boys playfully argue and push each other, nearly falling off the stool when a laugh bubbles through you at one of wooyoung’s comments.

“whoa,” you say quietly, pulling the back of seonghwa’s shirt for balance. you were hit with a wave of dizziness, eyesight becoming spotty and all your bones and muscles feeling like they were melting. he turns around sharply and catches you by the shoulder, steadying you before looking at your face.

it’s then he notices your cheeks are flushed, which is usually the case, but your eyes are glassy and dazed and all of your movements look…slow and sluggish.

“you okay?”

you blink because you see him, you know it’s him, you hear him but everything’s getting…fuzzy, is the best way to describe it.

“i-i don’t know, i-i think so,” you mumble out and his eyes widen at your slurred speech, “but i…only had one.”

you gesture to the cup between your legs and his whole bottle stills when he looks down at it.

“wait…where did you get that?”

“hm?” you say, trying to look at him but feeling the fuzziness overtake your head.

what is happening?

you feel his finger on your jaw, thumb moving your face around slowly to get a good look at your eyes.

“where did you get that drink?”

“uh- i don’t…old man,” you mumble out, “the old man. by the ba-ar.”

he sharply inhales and the feeling of rage that overcomes him is fast and intense. because he knew the second he went over there that something was off, the way he looked at you, the way he reacted when he saw him coming over.

“hongjoong, we need to talk. now,” he says to him through gritted teeth. the shorter boy hears the seriousness in his friend’s voice and immediately becomes alert, eyeing him and then at you looking dazed and completely out of it.

“wooyoung, sit with her for a sec. and behave, please.”

seonghwa leans down in your ear to tell you he’ll be back in a second. but you feel…weird and vulnerable and only wanted his presence tonight. so you reach out quickly, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and tightening your hold around it.

“no,” you whine, “you told me you were gonna stay with me.”

he swallows the lump in this throat, fear and more anger creeping into his veins because he knows something isn’t right. you feel the sensation of warm skin on your cheek, a finger moving back and forth and you wanna close your eyes because of how gentle it is.

“i’ll be right back, okay? i promise.”

you try to resist the urge to pout but it crosses your face anyway, wide glassy eyes looking up at him before a quiet “okay,” leaves your mouth. his hand lingers on your soft cheek for a few more seconds before he takes the cup from between your legs and guides hongjoong over to the sink.

his friend can tell immediately seonghwa is on edge, eyes burning with anger and fear and hands shaking slightly.

“i’m about to fucking lose it.”

“what happened?”

“come on, let’s dance!” wooyoung says, grabbing you by the hand and up on to your feet; but you immediately stumble over and he catches you around the waist.

“shit, how many drinks have you had,” he laughs out, “more than me it seems and i’m pretty shit-faced.”

“only-only one, so..i-don’t know,” you slur out and you’ve never been this dizzy. what is happening?

“you’re dizzy?” wooyoung asks, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers, “let’s get you some water.”

wooyoung drags you over to the bar, steadying you on an empty chair and asking one of the girl’s behind for a glass.

the room is currently spinning, vision hazy and ears ringing and your body doesn’t feel right. it doesn’t feel right at all, so now you’re staring to panic. what is happening?

“seonghwa,” you call out quietly and wooyoung snaps his head to the side.

“what?”

“where is he? seong-seonghwa?”

“he’s over with hongjoong, he’ll be right back.”

“need him,” you mumble out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you would’ve fallen off the stool if he didn’t catch you around the waist.

“holyfuck, oh god, okay, do not move, ah,” wooyoung panics, noticing one of his girl friend’s and flagging her over, “can you stay right here for a minute please and make sure she doesn’t fall.”

“do i look like a babysitter, wooyoung?” she snarkily replies and he sneers at her.

“yeah, i’d say you got’ve the frumpy babysitter outfit covered,” he spits out, eyeing her, “now just do it for me.”

she rolls her eyes but waves him off as if to say 'go’ and he quickly moves to the other side.

“are you okay?” you hear her asking a few moments later but you can’t respond, almost as if your brain can’t think of how to use open your mouth and speak.

“hey,” you hear her say again but your head lolls to that side as you try to look her in the face.

your ears start to feel clogged and the next thing you know, you’re being ushered down the hallway.

“h-hwa, home,” you mumble out finally, tone whiny and vulnerable.

but instead of a verbal response, you’re ushered up the stairs and into a room. you feel a cushiony softness under you and hum contently into the material, rolling over onto your side and shutting your eyes because you’re finally less dizzy, finally feeling at peace and ready to succumb to your sleepy state.

but then you’re flipped onto your back and there’s a tugging at your chest that’s causing your heart to race because what is happening?

what is happening?

you feel lips on your face, puckered lips trailing over your cheeks and down to your lips. a tongue licks at them and you try to move your head to the side because

what is happening?

even in your completely dazed state, you continue to wiggle away, putting out your lethargic hands to push whatever is happening away from you. but it must not help, because hands trail over your chest, squeezing ever so slightly and a ball makes its way into your throat. they’re then trailing down your stomach slowly until the cold air hits your skin and you think your shirt might be off now.

you don’t even realize you’re crying until you hear a voice mumble, “don’t cry, pretty girl.”

“who..stop…please,” you say, voice broken and sluggish.

“just wait, i’ll make you feel good.”

wet lips graze your neck again and a broken whimper leaves your mouth. you’re not even fully conscious of your body or mind, yet you know you don’t want this, know whatever is happening is making your skin crawl and you want to get out of here.

“st-stop.”

i need to be louder.

but his lips only trail down your neck further, down to your chest as his hands go to your exposed sides.

“sh, sh,” he hums out, breath on your skin and it makes more tears stream down your face.

“stop.”

louder.

“getting there, just gotta be patient, babe.”

when you feel his hands on the button of your jeans, it’s like you gather all the strength you’ve been waiting for. a wail leaves your mouth and then another and another, two screams of “stop!” ripping through your throat until he covers your mouth his hand.

“shut your mouth before i shove my-”

the door bursts open and you try to scramble off the bed but his weight on you makes it impossible. you turn your head to the side and your eyes widen when you see the familiar face.

“jackson, get the fuck off of her.”

“get out of here,” he growls, pushing his hand harder on your mouth, “you’re really gonna be a cock block right now.”

“get. the fuck. away.”

“you wanna a turn next? come back in 15 then.”

you watch the boy shake his bead before stomping over, his hand wrapping around jackson’s shirt and ripping his body off of you. the room is still spinning and it’s so hard to get breaths out but you scramble off the bed, quickly putting on your shirt and moving towards the door.

you watch through tears as jackson stands only to be brought down with a punch. you can’t breathe, can barely see through your spotty vision, it’s like your feet are stuck, looking at the man who almost just…

“go!” the boy screams at you.

“but-”

“go! now!”

your feet finally pick up and you run out of the room, getting only a few feet out the door before you slam into a familiar chest. your eyes meet seonghwa’s concerned ones and it causes more tears to pour from your eyes. a long brewing sob leaves your mouth as you bury your face in his shirt, gripping him so tightly you don’t even realize your nails are digging into him.

he feels like he could throw up, looking at your tear-stained face and scratched chest before you throw yourself into him. his arms wrap around you quickly, hand on the back of your head as his lips fall to your ear.

“what happened? y/n, what happened?”

“i…i don’t…jackson…and then the tut…yeosang.”

his arms fall from your body and you feel him try to move around you into that bedroom you were just in.

“no!” you wail, voice wet and scratchy as you tightening your grip on him. you’re still so dazed you don’t really know what’s happening, you just keep begging “don’t leave me again, p-please don’t lea-”

“where’s yeosang?” hongjoong yelps, san and wooyoung in tow.

“in there.” seonghwa’s arms are back around you and cradling your body, lips pressed against your head and cooing soft spoken words you can’t make out.

he watches his friends bust open the door again and sees jackson and yeosang fighting, the shorter boy dodging lazy punches and fumbling moves. his body is burning, shaking to go in there and join and get all of the pure and utter rage out that’s been building up.

but he can’t, not with you trembling into him and sobbing into his shirt and gripping him like your life depends on it.

he knows that the rage is towards none other than the sick asshole getting his ass beat in there but he’s also mad at himself. mad for not walking out to get you from the start and mad for leaving you again and quite possibly scarring you for the rest of your life.

he can only stand there and rock you, mumble “you’re okay now,” and “i’m not leaving you,” in your ear as he runs his hand through your hair. he sees hongjoong making his way toward the door and turns his body around so you’re closest to the wall, blocking you from the view of san, wooyoung and yeosang dragging a bloody and bruised jackson out of the room.

“can you... home, please,” you stutter out brokenly, chin resting on his chest as you look at him with your tear-stained face and red eyes.

he slowly, cautiously brings his hand to your face to wipe your tears as he nods silently and it only brings another batch of wetness to flow out your eyes. he throws his arm around your shoulders, ushering you down the stairs and out the door to his car.

he helps you in and buckles your seatbelt, asking lowly if that’s okay. but you can only sniffle and nod, resting your head against the seat as another wave of exhaustion rushes over you. he quickly closes the door and is about to go around the front when he sees his friends carrying out jackson.

seonghwa rushes over and pushes the oldest man out of their grasp. he falls back and smacks his head onto the grass before he goes to straddle the man and punch his already battered face.

“i. fucking. told. you.”

he gets in four good, hard punches before yeosang and san rip him off the boy, an animalistic growl leaving him.

“seonghwa, stop,” yeosang says firmly, grounding the boy next to him. he shakes his bruised knuckles out and tries to control his breathing from the rage coursing through his body.

“how did you know,” seonghwa spits out suddenly, “how did you find her.”

he licks his dry lips before hesitantly speaking, “i saw them before in the beginning, when he got her a drink.”

seonghwa’s head snaps to the side upon hearing the words, his eyes narrowing before roughly grabbing him by the shirt. “so you fucking knew,” he growled, “you saw him put something in her drink.”

“how the fuck would i have know that,” he says back with just as much anger, “i only saw him talking to her and then you came over. then she went over with wooyoung and i noticed him watching her when he left.”

“why wouldn’t you go over then,” seonghwa shouts, tightening his hold on his shirt before throwing his head back to stare down wooyoung, “and why did you walk away?”

“she wanted you! i went to get you!”

“hey asshole, where the fuck were you!” yeosang shouts back, pushing with all his strength to get seonghwa off of him. “don’t try blaming us when you’re the one who fucked up, you’re obviously the one who invited her here!”

anger, so much anger is coursing through seonghwa’s veins because he knows his friend is absolutely right. but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to beat the shit out of everyone, to put the blame on someone else and not come to terms with the fact this disaster was his fault.

“it’s no one’s fault but his,” san says quickly, looking into the direction of a groaning jackson, “we shouldn’t be fighting like this.”

“san’s right,” hongjoong says quietly.

seonghwa runs his fingers through his hair, squatting down as rage and guilt and terror and every bad feeling he’s ever imagined comes rushing through him. he stares at the pebbles on the ground trying to get his shit together before he gets back in the car.

but he’s just so fucked up, thinking about the fear that ran through him when he turned around and didn’t see you there, when a random guy hurried over to him and said “yeosang said to get up stairs now,” when you ran out with tears in your eyes and looked completely broken.

“seonghwa, help her now. be with her now and bring her home,” hongjoong says, bending down to meet his friend’s pained gaze.

“hongjoong, how could i have let this-”

“go,” he says sternly, nodding his head toward his car, “she’s waiting and she needs you now.”

seonghwa swallows the lump in his throat, eyes moving from san to yeosang to wooyoung and then to the floor in defeat. he gets up with a huff and walks away silently, opening his car door and slamming it close.

you stir in the seat at the loud intrusion, curled up in the seat and he thinks he could cry looking at you. because he’s barely known you for a week and he already feels…responsible and attached to you. and he wants to vomit thinking about horribly he failed you.

“so what, i’m just supposed to follow you around all night?”

“yes.”

tears sting his eyes and he bites his lip so hard, the metallic taste of blood invades his tongue. he turns on his car and your eyes flutter open at the sound, hazily staring at seonghwa through your watery eyes.

“h-hwa?”

“hey, we’re leaving now,” he tells you softly and he wants to plead and beg for your apology right now. but your eyes are closing again, a quiet hum leaving your mouth as you curl further into the seat.

“okay..just, don’t leave me again.”

he swallows the lump in his throat, biting his abused lip as tears sting his eyes before taking your hand in his and bringing in to his lips. he presses his lips lightly to your knuckle, mumbling promises and apologies against your skin for the entire ride home.

(part 6)

#moodboard #seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #seonghwa moodboard #jacksonwangslander #ilysir

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coldcolourchords · 3 years

Text

Turning 21 - an unwanted landmark

It happened an hour and 20 minutes ago, as the clock hit midnight CEST and the date changed so seamlessly to the 12th, without any hesitation, uneventfully and in complete silence, just as expected. The day I've been negatively anticipating for the better half of the past one year has come, and it caught me sitting at my computer alone in the living room, drinking hot tea on a summer night in a sweater and doing my silly little tasks that I call "work" (because despite my best efforts, middle of the night is still the only time of the day I can function as intended).

I remember ever since I was a child I always used to start mentally preparing myself for my birthday from New Year's Day. Even my mother used to say, "now that it's 2010, you're already 10 to me", even though August was still nowhere to be seen. But that felt good at the time. The beginning of a new year and my birthday approaching meant hope and progress, as the only thing I wanted as a child and as a teen was to grow up and not have to be a child anymore. I didn't like going to school, I didn't like being told to do things, I didn't like not being taken seriously, as I'm sure no one does. But by "didn't like", I mean it caused me severe emotional distress, the stuff that happened to me every single day without my control. It's hard to tell now in retrospect what caused what, but I have memories of developing my two most prominent and persistent mental disorders at around 6 years old (social anxiety and a BFRB) which have isolated me and often subjected me to cooler kids poking fun at me, shortly followed by starting school in the middle of my parent's divorce and moving houses. One of our last dinners in my father's comforting family home at the dinner table, I remember being visibly sad and my mum asking me what was wrong. My slightly belated answer ("everything") did not quite get the desired reception, as she and my little brother went on to have a little giggle over making assumptions about what that must include ("I'm sure she's sad over dinosaurs going extinct too..."). And, from then on, it's pretty much been downhill. I didn't like being home and I didn't like being at school (or at any of the million extracurricular activities my mum had picked out for me falsely thinking they could stop me from hurting myself and not just accelerate it). The ever-present social anxiety, bottled up frustration, high academic expectations and confusion about the nature of my very own self-destructive behaviours did not make for an enjoyable time in any of my 12 years at school. So, obviously, all I could do was anticipate the end. The end of being vulnerable to the very systems that were meant to nurture me and protect me.

I think that was my way of thinking all the way until I turned 19. Two years ago. At 19, I had graduated high school, I was about to start university studying something I was interested in, I had a semi-stable student job I liked and I was ready to move in with my boyfriend (a former classmate), separate from our parents. I had an artistic goal that I was ready to work for in my free time, and living away from home I was finally going to get the capacity to do so as well. And then when all of this happened and my thoughts became occupied with the new kind of responsibilities that came with "adulting", I started getting this overwhelming feeling of "what now?". A couple months have passed in the blink of an eye, it was November and I wasn't happy. I was making virtually no progress on my creative goals, my flat was a smelly mess, I didn't see my friends and I wasn't making new ones, and I found university to be draining and incompatible with my brain. I wasn't enjoying anything. I thought, "is this how I'm going to have to spend another 3 years?".

And then a miracle happened. I had to give a presentation at uni with a couple of other girls, and one of them suggested a book to do it based on. Reading my part of the book to prepare for the presentation has unlocked something in me - it was a book about the way people manage to feel like hostages due to their own decisions and thoughts. First it hurt to read because I had to face the truth: I wasn't really a hostage of expectations, university or responsibilities, I was a hostage of myself and my own attitude. I even wrote a song about this (my ultimate way of being honest with myself), and that's when I've felt ready to start working on myself in order to take back control over my life. And hell, I have done it. In a couple of weeks, I was feeling the best I've ever felt and I went into exam season thinking I was capable of the impossible at this point. Who knew I had it in me? I had gotten through a couple of exams and assignments and I was thinking soon I was going to start improving in other areas of my life as well. I was going to make art, see my friends again, go out, have fun, maybe learn to cook and be a better girlfriend too. Not a lot of that has happened. Came the end of exams and the second half of January and I was already exhausted. My job was at a halt and uni wasn't back on until mid February, so I spent a few shallow weeks at home just thinking "why am I doing this again?". It was difficult, suddenly having too much space for negative thoughts and rumination.

But it was only the start of the pandemic when my race with time has really begun. Which is ironic, because when the restrictions were first announced in my country, I really saw a lot of opportunity in them to grow for myself (and I mean this is in the least "this deadly virus is a blessing in disguise" way possible). University moving online and social gatherings being nothing short of illegal all of a sudden felt more than convenient for my social (but very luckily not health) anxiety ridden brain, and I had imagined this was going to be the most prosperous phase in my life, in terms of moving forward with my goals.

Ever since I was little, I had dreamed of becoming a musical artist. No one ever encouraged me - maybe for a good reason - and I tried to keep quiet about it as well. I was so ashamed of desiring something that was so "unlike me" according to everyone who knew me. I never had a good voice and everyone perceived me as shy, on top of being seen as more of a "STEM girl" (until I went to high school for maths and ended up not understanding any of it anymore). I'd been writing lyrics into my phone since 14 and attempting to turn them into actual songs on my laptop since 17. At 18, I even took a beginner's course in Ableton. Still, I just never felt like anything I wrote was of any worth or that I had a single ounce of talent in any part of the process. But I kept on dreaming and pushing because I thought "if I don't try, how will I know?". My work ethic was awful too, I was an inconsistent writer and an even more inconsistent producer. I never got anything finished because I got lost in the details and gave up due to my perfectionism. Plus, and this is what I perceived to be the biggest problem at the time, I could only record music at home, and my family were home all the time. Moving out, I thought I was going to prosper, then I didn't prosper for a bit, told myself it was okay because uni was making me depressed, then I continued to not prosper, told myself it was okay because I had to rest up after exams. And then it's like the universe said "Stop. You're just making excuses. Stay home and produce those songs now because there will NOT be another opportunity like this".

I put so much pressure on myself then to get stuff done. It felt like my time - all my adolescence I was looking at teenage popstars rising to fame and each year they were just getting younger and all I did was compare myself to them and worry. Worry that I was running late, that no one was going to ever care about me because I am late, but growing up I excused it every time. I was home with my family and stressed because of school all the time, duh, how could I have made good art? But right there, at the beginning of "quarantining", it was just me and my willpower. No school, no job, no impromptu social plans. And who knew how long it was going to last? Some people said only four weeks, some others said months, some the rest of the year. All I knew was I was 19, still young and practically a teenager, and I had to act. And I did. I made two of the worst songs you've heard in your life and I put them both out in the summer under my own name. Like proper released them on streaming services and all. Looking back now, holy hell, how desperate was I, posting it on my social media that people I actually knew followed? With my fear of being ridiculed? I was setting myself up for an emotional disaster. Shock horror: my songs didn't blow up (although I have had a few friends say lovely things about them, at least to me). By the time of scheduling the second one for release (mid July) I was already feeling burnt out. Yes, there was another exam season in the meantime, and the unexpectedness of the elongated pandemic has definitely been a factor as well, but generally I was just so let down by the overall underwhelming experience. I made such bad decisions - why my own full name? Why did I have to let people know and thereby handicap myself? Of course I wasn't going to promote my songs now or even speak of them positively because I feared coming off ridiculous. So I just let the whole thing pass without a sound and made myself sad. By last August, I was back to "what now?".

Needless to say, there were no festivals last summer. Festivals used to be my ultimate summer happy place and I always celebrated my birthday at a specific one (the biggest one in my city to be exact) starting with the 15th. Concerts and festivals were somehow simultaneously an adventurous escape from all my worries and the root of a lot of my confidence issues and anxiety. I dreamed of being on stage and presenting my art to the world, pouring my heart out to even just one person who will listen, the same way that I listen to my favourite artists and what they have to say. Some nights were emotional, some nights were energising, some nights were spent worrying about the people who surrounded me and some nights were just pure jealousy and feeling far away from my goals - you never knew what you were going to get at a gig. I think that overall most gigs were bittersweet experiences for me, but that's how I liked them to be. The whole point was just to feel something. But there were no festivals last year. There were concerts, though, put on by local bands, but lord do I wish there hadn't been any. I went to two of those last summer - one I went to alone and walked away feeling like shit, another I went to with my friends and felt extremely guilty and anxious about the virus after. This second one happened to be two days before my 20th birthday. I spent my birthday worried to death that I got the virus (even though numbers were extremely low at the time in my country and going to small gigs was perfectly legal and deemed not dangerous) and that I was going to infect my elderly relatives who I was going to meet with later. That didn't happen, but I haven't been to a single show since then, and it's been a year. So that's how my first non-festival birthday worked out.

Turning 20 didn't feel good and my birthday aligned with the onset of a bunch of new problems as well as old ones accelerated. I began to think deeply about everything. What was the point of anything I was doing? Was any of it going to get me anywhere? Was any of it causing me joy, even? I didn't know what to do about my musical efforts - should I keep trying to put out songs or admit defeat? I still had that creative drive in me and I worried so much about my role in the world - "I'm not a good friend, not a good girlfriend and not a good daughter, and I certainly will never become a good psychologist directly helping people with their problems. I need to give something to the world - I need to find a purpose". I didn't do stuff because I was anxious, and then I was anxious because I didn't do stuff. But I think at that point I also realised I didn't only want to succeed and produce. I also wanted to live. Having fun was missing from my life too. I rarely saw or talked to friends and my relationship wasn't going well either. Every day I tortured myself looking at other people live their lives on social media and thinking to myself I wanted what they had. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to create, to connect and to matter, but all of these things have only ever caused me anxiety in my life and I didn't know where to go from there.

With the virus getting worse again and the start of another online semester, there was one silver lining to locking myself in again though. During the pandemic, I have been playing a lot of video games, possibly even more than before. They weren't only a nice way to numb my brain and relax - no, the opposite, they were actively giving me a temporary sense of direction and progress with each gaming session. I have always loved The Sims for this reason, I had spent so many years building and perfecting my little worlds to my liking and practicing full control over my characters' lives, but this time I began to feel like it was something bigger. I discovered the Sims side of the internet, something I had not really done before, and the amount of content, help, info and Sims-related entertainment has blown me away. Whole new levels of playing have been unlocked for me and I began to dive deeper than ever. I wanted to be part of the community, so in the autumn I started streaming the game on Twitch and this time I knew better than to tell anyone I already knew about it. That didn't quite turn out as I expected, and my streamer phase was cut short in January by someone I knew from high school accidentally finding my stream. Before that, I would only get moderately anxious before streams, not worried much about what viewers were going to think of me (if they find me annoying they'll just leave and I'll never have to hear from them again), but then that unexpected turn of events ruined everything in my head. All my confidence I had built up was suddenly gone. I never streamed again after that. It wasn't really for me anyway, I told myself.

Instead, insistent on further pursuing the only thing that was giving me joy at the time, I started my YouTube channel initially uploading Sims tutorials, because I thought I had useful stuff to show people that has a greater chance of making someone happy than just watching me try to put together a sentence for 5 minutes straight while my Sims struggle to get in the shower by themselves. And much to my surprise, it was gaining decent traction, although I put a lot of it down to luck even today. But either way, it's been growing more or less consistently ever since, and beginning of the summer I stopped to think "could I not just be doing this for a living now?". "Could this be my new creative ambition?". As much as I would have liked to say yes based on my progress and how I managed to earn the same amount I would have earned in a month at my part-time retail job (we're talking Eastern European sums kids!), it wasn't that simple. Thoughts around this have of course been puzzling me for months now. I like to think of myself as a natural talker, just because I am anxious I am NOT quiet or shy. I can even make small talk very well, it's just that because I'm mortified by the possibility of an awkward silence I tend to avoid situations where it might be required. And I talk to myself all the time. So on paper, talking to a camera should not be an issue. And yet every time I record a video I feel my soul being sucked out of my body because I need to make sure I say every sentence correctly and that ends up in draining 4 hour recording sessions. Editing videos, on the other hand, is a rewarding process, a kind of flow-experience I have not really known before, though extremely long and usually detrimental to my sleep schedule (which is far from being rosy by default). Maybe I just put too much effort into everything, but it really makes you question - is it worth it? Can I really be doing this on the long run without destroying myself? And will I ever get used to the social interactions that come with it?

It's weird, suddenly getting recognition for something, people giving me positive feedback on the daily. This certainly happened more suddenly than I thought it would and I don't think I was prepared. Naturally, people taking the effort to leave me nice comments and messages makes me want to reply, appreciate their kindness and return the favour but the trinity of little demons inside me - social anxiety, impostor syndrome and a chronically low self-esteem - makes this a difficult task to complete. To combat the overwhelming weight of responsibility that comes with making sure I appreciate everyone who appreciates me enough, as well as to shut out the fear that what I have now can be taken away from me any second, I have built up a mental wall between me and my relative success. This wasn't a conscious choice, it's just the way my brain has started dealing with this new situation. I do not allow myself to internalise the rewards of what I work so hard for and that contributes to why, when I look back on 2021 so far, all I see is depression despite having "gotten what I wanted". My YouTube channel has been the only thing bringing hope and the only thing I've got going for me and yet I am incapable of embracing it.

The past one year has been enlightening. It has enlightened me that there must be something deeply wrong with me because I have not been able to enjoy life even at times I had all the reasons to. The times I am capable of letting go and feeling happy for short periods come exactly based on that - short periods. I'm drifting into states of bliss only when I know the situation is temporary and doesn't come with commitment and responsibility. Some of these moments of calmness come to me while walking to the store by myself after dark, getting invested in my video games, meeting up with my friends for an evening every once in a while and writing a therapeutic song just for myself using the simplest chords on the piano. The feeling usually doesn't last and disappears at the first attempt to get back to any kind of organised schedule (that attempt on most days is the simple act of trying to force myself to go to bed). Isn't that ironic? I wanted purpose. I wanted to get it together. And yet... every day is a struggle. I know now, I am the problem. Whether it's a chemical imbalance or another anomaly in my brain or my own fault somehow, it's not my circumstances, it's me. I wanted to be free and to make my life my own, and now I just can't. Every day I worry about running out of time, rapidly approaching death and not being able to say that I have lived. This is why turning 21 fills me with so much panic. I am no longer a child and I'll never be again, although I wouldn't even like to be. I just can't help thinking that I wasted so many opportunities to enjoy myself and to push for my goals. But it's gone now and there's no point regretting how I used to think about life back then. If I look back on my life so far I see a lot of stuff that happened that made half of my brain temporarily happy, but the other half was always filled with anxiety, anticipation to get out or dissatisfaction. It was just never fully right and I keep hoping that there will come a time when it will feel fully right. Before turning 19, I thought independence was going to give me that. Now at 21, I'm not quite sure there's anything that's going to give me that if I don't also start to work through every single one of my issues (although part of me still likes to cling onto the idea that once I'm done with my first and last degree, a lot of underlying stress and guilt will be taken off my shoulders and I'll see everything in a different light). So for a start, I just finally signed up for psychological counselling. I don't know if it will help but it's something and I've done it for myself. I need to do more for myself.

There is so much more I could talk about. Like the pandemic, how I've turned into a hermit, my relationship, struggling to be honest with myself and slowly losing touch with my all time number one passion because of it. I could talk about how I know that society has been deliberately making us (especially women) feel scared of aging and yet I still file it under personal issues, how I've been trying to fix my sleep schedule for a year and a half straight now, the guilt I feel from my family and friends all the time, my inability to concentrate and how I fall into despair concerning the future and present of humanity every time I read the news and people's opinions on social media. I could talk about how I want to cry every time I see a picture of somewhere beautiful in the world - a street in Japan, a lake in the Alps or the trees in the Mediterranean - because I feel a longing that is almost nostalgic for places I've never even visited. There is always so much to still be told to complete the story, but why do I want people I'll never fully know to understand me that well? I need to let go of compulsions like these.

Deep down I just hope that I'm not the only one terrified of growing old.

#21 #happy birthday to me #long story long #welcome to my brain #aging #depression #anxiety #growing up #growing old #young adulthood

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hollowleggedwolf · 4 years

Text

Rambling thought of an older Enby

I am in my 30′s. I found the term non-binary and embraced I was trans only about 5 years ago. It isn’t the whole of me but it is a large piece of the puzzle called my life. Its been a hard road to get to that embracing of who I am and its still rocky at times. I sometimes wonder how I’m still alive. I wonder way did my road have to be so hard. Why did I have to have one more thing on top of all the other things. I tried so hard to be what the world wanted me to be. And it almost killed me.

I look out and so all the other hard roads people are walking down and I just want to help them. I want to fix the systemic systems that forced them to walk those hard roads. I trying to be a voice, a teacher, a fighter, and advocate not only for people like me but for all the others who have been been told they are nothing for being other, not normal. I know I got my privilege's and I’m trying to use them to help. I got my own learning to do. I am also have to you know pay the bills and all that adult stuff.

I can’t do enough. I’m trapped in a Sisyphean system that I keep fighting against. We can all admit 2020 is full of suck,. It scary if you fall into the other category in any way. Its hard to find the good in so many ways. Sometimes it feels like people just want the world to burn. These are not new issues they are just all coming to a head in one glorious disaster year.

Last year I was able to get top surgery. It saved me. I had what was at the time a small window with health insurance to get it and I took it. (Since than I have gotten a job that pays very good and has excellent medical care) I was prepared for complications, to get told no, that insurance wouldn’t cover it, even moments before I gave into the anthisia in the surgery room I was still thinking this won’t happen someone will say no I will never get this. I will be trapped for the rest of my life. I woke up hours later and it was real, no complications, insurance covered it, and I healed up really good. Three weeks after my surgery I started a new job. Still with bandages and T-rex arms with new hope and also fear that the no was still to come. I told my supervisor my pronouns and my name and I got support, and acceptance. It was freeing in its own way. I know so many don’t get that acceptance.

Jump to a year later.

In the midst of having an anxiety attach because 2020 is shit for mental health (especially if you already got depression, OCD, anxiety before you know plague). I curled up in a big minky blanket without a shirt on trying not to scream/cry/meltdown. When I actually feel this minky blanket against my skin, against my chest, against my scars. Soft, warm, made for comfort, made for protection, made to be a hug on a cold hard day. I have had this blanket for ten years it has kept me warm through winter when I lived in rentals that had no heat and it was so cold things froze inside my living space. It propped me up me up when I was healing from surgery so I could sleep, it has hidden me away when my mental health makes me trapped inside my own head and away from the world. I have rended at it with tears, thrown it in frustration, cuddled into it with blissful joy reading so many books. Its just an old worn blanket, not even in a color I like. A gift given to me. But in that moment as it touched my new body healed after a year, waited for most of my lifetime I felt this old minky blanket as if it was the first time. It has never felt so soft, so much more than a blanket. I dissolved into that blanket not with tears or anxiety but with a sigh. A sad smile came over me. I just sat there in quiet under that old new blanket and just let the moment be.

I didn’t know I could sit quiet and just be anymore. I don’t know how long that moment lasted. But it felt good to not be running, moving, fighting. So long I just kept myself busy so I wouldn’t have to think about anything. That is how I deal with things. I constantly say if you stop moving you die. I have lost loved ones and how I dealt with my grief was to disappear into work. Hell its why it took me so long to figure out who I was. When I was a kid/teenager I used to sit for hours looking at the stars just being quiet and letting them drift by.

A year later I still am surprised by the person I see in the mirror because for so long I didn’t recognize them. The mirror for so long was my enemy, a necessary evil to go about the routine of daily life. I felt like I had been in someone else life. I jokingly told friends that who ever body I was living in was going to be real pissed when they got it back because I haven’t been taking very good care of it. I had buried myself so far away under what I was suppose to be, under work, expectations, the cruelty of this world. That I was not enough and I can do nothing of substances.

So what is the point of this rambling thought. Something grand about acceptance or finding your true self. That things get better and society othering you doesn't define who you really are. Keep up the good fight. I guess you could read this as all or non of that.

To me right now in the writing. Sitting quietly just listening and being still wrapped up under a blanket. I want to say thank you to an old minky blanket for being new for a moment. For merging a moment of what was is the new me with something I didn’t know I was desperately missing from the old me. For giving me a moment that was descending into being lost to being one of rising peace which turned into a form of hope. Thank you for being there and letting me rest, so I can rebuild the energy to fight again.

To anyone that reads this rambling thought about my own journey and an old blanket. What has given you a moment a peace so that you can continue along your road (which I hope is not all hard)?

Ok I’m going to go curl up in my blanket and read. Good night internet and try to be kind.

#enby life #enby #nonbinary #Old NB #transgender #old trans #trans #top surgery #hope #blanket #peaceofmind #peacewithin #innerstrength #yeah 2020 is a shit show but blankets are good

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modern-oedipus · 4 years

Text

Covid Vent

No one: Nila, who goes out maybe once in a month due to covid: *listens to coffee shop sounds in youtube to get in mood* It’s really hard to maintain social isolation now that it has been 5 months. But the cases are going up and up and up, hitting my friends and their families. I myself had to split houses with my mother because she had covid cases in her work place. I don’t think I’d isolate myself this much if I wasn’t in the risk group, but I am. Knowing that I am most likely to go to intensive care and experience the trouble breathing again like I did during the asthma treatment is not good. The potential permanent damage on lungs, for someone like me whose lungs are already more prone to sickness compared to healthy people, is also a big no, considering that I’m only in my early twenties and if everything goes well and I live a normal life I’d live around 50 more years. 50 more years with a disability or isolating myself at home? Isolation, obviously. But this pandemic doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. I am only indoors because both my internships are online & college hasn’t started yet. I know that I’ll eventually have to go out if my college doesn’t switch to online education. It doesn’t scare me at all, though, I am not like, “anxious”. I’m concerned, disturbed, alert, but not in a paranoid anxiety. If I end up catching covid, I’m at least mentally prepared to deal with it. I’m also eating healthy and exercising and don’t really have health problems except for that past-lung-treatments that more or less put me to a risk group (risky enough to concern me, even though I don’t have a chronic illness), so who knows, I might just pass it like a flu as well. No one knows. It’s not good overthinking covid, all I can do is to keep social distancing & mask & hygiene, as always. I’m just so suffocated. I’m more prone to be an extrovert. Before pandemic, I’d only use my house to sleep I’d keep being out in public, attending events, ORGANIZING events, going to coffee shops, club meetings, lots and lots of stage plays, tours, everything. I’d sneak into my friends’ dorms and change cities and just so many more “normal” fun things. I was barely starting to enjoy my life again after the depression healed. Now, I’m mentally ok, but physically trapped. The “watch netflix, read books, stay home” thing is kind of overdosing me right now. I like this shit for a week maybe, not for 5 months. I don’t know how to not risk my mental health while keeping my physical health anymore. Of course, to even HAVE a mental health I need to stay alive, so I’m not complaining- health care workers, people who go to job everyday (including my parents), etc. are in such a harder situation. I know. But my own life is also valid, and while not as troubling and concerning as lives of others right now, well, I think I’m still worth caring, at least by myself. I don’t expect any extra outside compassion or validation (we all are in same situation), me writing my thoughts here is more of me just trying to see my thoughts being worded on screen so that maybe I can come up with a solution to these things as I go. Because I’ve always been a problem-solver rather than just merely venting. (I can’t always solve problems though, I need to work on accepting this fact.) Anyway, I just thought, maybe spending more time outdoors in the natural park that is close to my house could be a good thing. But it’s crowded since it’s outdoors and I really don’t want to share any commonly used areas right now. (I used to be more than okay with this before covid, as I said, I’m mostly extroverted and I like community gatherings, but I like being healthy more), so like... Idk, maybe I can just sort of have phone calls and videochats with my friends as I sit outdoors. Except I don’t even know I have that many friends anymore. I mean, I do- I surely do have bestest of friends in my life that I’m grateful for, but like. I am somehow an introvert magnet and while I’d die for most of my best friends (both irl and online) I don’t really think they are as hype about just chatting as often as I am. (I know that this doesn’t mean they love me any less. They love me in their own way & I love them in their own way so that’s OK.) So like. Maybe Nila, have this BRILLIANT idea of making more friends. Except. Like. You’re at home so you aren’t in much of social gatherings [you aren’t in any! That is insane!] and you don’t really know how to make friends from home. I mean, yes there are online friends but like. EVEN WITH THEM. How can I just *trust* them right away? I can’t, so like. I don’t know. I’m bored af. On the bright side, today one of my bff from school called me and said he’s back in town and that we should catch up, he’s literally one of the greatest company ever and he wants to see the doggo, so I’m positive we can just have hour 9242309204 hours long in-depth chats again without getting bored (amazing to have people like that in my life). Anyway. I guess the moral of this is:

- I need to accept “the new normal”

- I need to protect myself but try to keep my mental health as good as possible because I like myself more when my mental health is fine and I can also come up with better creations then

- I need to finish my course work (internship) so that I can relax before school starts

- I need to spend more time outdoors but in isolated areas (good luck finding them!)

- I need to recharge

- I “want to” make more friends or just check up on existing ones! I can’t use the word “need” for this because this would degrade the freedom of the other party. Friends are appreciated, and to some extend, a necessity for social creatures like us, but no “need” will make it happen. I will just make an effort to check up on my existing friends more frequently-- I’m quite selective at this, though, I prefer generally upbringing people who are mature to a certain extend (aka, no obsession, no passive-aggression. yes to personal boundaries, yes to an overall nice attitude [we all can have problems and that’s ok and that’s normal. what /I/ personally don’t wish to be around [with my all respect] is this mindset of “life is a disaster let’s be depressed” thing. I just love love my current friend circle because even if my close friends are just around 7 people, and even if we get depressed or sad or scared, our general look to life is nicer, we don’t make disasters out of regular days, we enjoy talking and chatting, which overall increases our life quality and makes it better. We also communicate & respect & listen to each other and all. I mean. It’s not like that with everyone, and that’s ok, but as I said, this is my personal preference. I prefer having bonds that are good rather than toxic and I am doing my best to be equally good, rather than being toxic to my friends. [I’m sorry I post a lot of Banana Fish to those who don’t know Banana Fish, ok. I know ur bored but like I just cannot help it. I’m trying to tone it down but BANANA FISH.] sOOOOOOOO, SOOOO that’s why it’s not how “i have 29420343204 friends uwu” mindset, like, I noticed I need to be reasonably picky with those I’m close to so that I and people I love can overall have a nice, fun days, which is point of friendship. (I mean. As I said. I’m here on bad days too. But I don’t feel mentally healthy enough to carry the burden of someone else’s depression. It hasn’t even been two months since I’m out of therapy yet, and my mental health is, while not bad, it is fragile. I’d rather not be around those who can [mostly, unwillingly] effect me badly. SO LIKE. - that’s one hell of a long post nila, but long story short FRIENDS or you’ll die out of boredom

- also just finish your coursework i beg you

- thanks for coming to my ted talk, I actually always offer potential solutions on my vent posts, but this time i wanted to write this publicly [i dont think anyone will read this and i dont mind it] because like. why not? it’s just me thinking and I feel as if this could be of use for some people who are reading this & isolating themselves too. anyway, i love u, stay safe.

#quarantine #covid19 #social isolation #social distancing #mental health #friendship #health #nila stuff

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bobbyboops · 4 years

Text

Broken Pieces

Hello to this beautiful community! I hope you are all having a great Wednesday! I have written my first ever fanfic. It is an angsty piece about Bobby x MC. Give it a read if you are so inclined! I am also including a link to the playlist I made to go along with it. I hope you all enjoy! https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/broken-pieces/pl.u-r2yBDkqsAV9rDA

Bobby walked into his Hotel room, fresh tears still streaming down his delicate freckles. He had just been voted off of Love Island, and subsequently lost the only girl who had meant something to him in a long time. He closed the door behind him, and was met by complete silence. Something that he hadn’t really experienced in the last 29 days, and something that scared him more than anything because there was absolutely nothing to distract him from the waves of grief that he had been able to hold mostly at bay over the last 2 weeks, but that were crashing down unrelentingly now. He took off his shoes and sat down on the king sized bed cradling his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and once again replayed the last 4 weeks in his mind. Trying to piece together for the millionth time just what had gone so terribly wrong. How he had let his soulmate slip so easily from his hands.

POV: Bobby

I knew early on she was so much more than just a crush. She was my dream girl. Of course she was beautiful to look at, but I was all too familiar with the fact that beauty was only skin deep, and often (though not always) the most beautiful girls on the outside are the ugliest on the inside. The most beautiful thing about MC was her personality, she had banter for days, she treated everyone in the house with love and respect, and when tensions were high she was there putting out all of the little fires around the villa. Best of all she never made me feel like I was a nuisance, she was always up for a chat, or one of my stupid pranks. She never made me feel like I was inferior to the rest of the guys (which I could see I clearly was.) How was it possible that a girl as perfect as her could see parts of me that I had kept so perfectly hidden? She made it so easy to bring down my walls, but at the same time made me want to build them up higher because there was just no way it could be real. I was preparing myself mentally for her to walk away at any time.

I could tell she was feeling a little bit skittish after what Rocco had done to Lottie, she had told me on our date in the vineyard that she was worried it was going to happen to her. She confessed to me that she had been burned in the past, and I could tell there was more to the story, but I didn’t want to push her to tell me before she was ready. Getting called out as the biggest player of the season hadn’t been the best way to instill faith in my character, and I had only made everything worse by playing up to it. I thought everyone would find it as absurd as I had, and therefore joking about it would solve the problem, but I could see MC was clearly feeling anxious about it all. I was almost certain I had blown it, and honestly I wouldn't have blamed her, as someone who had been blindsided and hurt so many times in the past I probably would have understood better than anyone. But for some reason she had still chosen to continue getting to know me, much to my relief.

That relief was short lived though as I could see Lucas wasn’t ready to give up on the chase. I could see him staring at MC all the time, his eyes following her like a predator tracking its prey everywhere she went. MC had never shown much interest in him… at least not in front of me. But at the next re-coupling he stood up and called her name. She wandered over to me first, offering me some reassurance, but I was slowly starting to unravel.

Waking up the next morning to her angelic face letting me know that the girls were going away had only made everything worse. I hadn’t had the chance to have a talk with her and get an idea about where her head was at. Obviously she still fancied me at least a little if she was willing to wake me up and say a private goodbye… right? But what if her head was at least starting to be turned? As she made her way out to the jeeps waiting below it dawned on me that they were most likely headed to Casa Amor. A chill ran down my spine, and I ran down the stairs trying to catch them before they left. I wanted to make sure she would know that I was going to be waiting patiently by the door until their return. That I would be waiting for her, but as I opened my mouth, Lottie slammed the door and the jeeps pulled away, and my cracks were beginning to show.

I couldn’t control my anxiety after she came back from Casa Amor. Though she had shown up single, and she had been so reassuring that first night back even suggesting we couple back up, I was immediately on self destruct mode. I had asked Lottie to share a bed that first night, and I still can’t work out what possessed me to utter that invitation. Seeing the immediate hurt spread across MC’s perfect face kept me up the entire night. Even though Lottie had ultimately turned me down, I knew I had just sewn another seed of doubt in MC’s already cautious mind. I could feel her slipping away, and my anxiety was the driving wedge pulling us farther apart. I just couldn’t pull myself out of it. I had avoided her for most of the next day, I didn’t know what to say, and I was worried I would say something to further damage our relationship.

Later that evening instead of being able to couple up with her, we were forced to save other islanders. She chose to save Lucas, which had only made me spiral further, and wonder if there was more than meets the eye. Maybe Lucas hadn’t been lying when he said that MC had shown interest in him. I had lunged at him at the time, only to be grabbed by Noah and Lucas by Rahim. My head had been such a mess between the guilt I felt over operation NOPE, knowing that had been the catalyst to the disaster recoupling. Also knowing that Lucas was going full force for my girl. I’m not an idiot, I know how dangerous he is in this game. He is the epitome of everything most girls are looking for. Well mannered, successful, good looking with that slight bad boy vibe that seems to bring girls to their knees. I knew I paled in comparison. I am a goofball, poor, and average looking at best. MC had never seemed interested, but maybe she had just been trying to spare my feelings. Maybe I was really just her “pity case and safe choice” as Lucas had so generously pointed out.

The next morning I woke up and asked for a volunteer to help with breakfast, hoping against hope that MC would volunteer, but Lottie’s hand shot up so fast that MC didn’t even get the chance. I tried to not show the disappointment that was exploding out of my chest. MC looked slightly annoyed, but Lottie was always so hot tempered, and didn’t take well to not getting her way. I just didn’t want to get into it this early in the morning, so I wasn’t going to tell her no.

Lottie announced MC entering the kitchen, and I turned around just in time to see MC saunter into the kitchen wearing a leopard print bikini. My heart was hammering out of my chest, and I could barely think straight. “I’m bound to be hit with a sugar rush soon, because that look is so sweet.” Damn that was a lame compliment, but MC took it gratefully. I offered her some pancakes, and Lottie covered them with maple syrup in the shape of a pentagram. MC quickly stuffed a giant bite into her mouth and hummed her approval.

“Bobby, this is delicious. What has inspired all this then?” She said with that dazzling smile of hers.

“I think we all deserve it, and I’m feeling really optimistic.” I replied.

She went on to compliment me by saying the thought what Lottie and I did for Noah and Hope the night before was sweet. I rattled something off about them being the real deal, which I didn’t believe fully. Noah had been insufferable the whole time the girls were at Casa Amor, and Lottie had already saved him. I honestly couldn’t fathom having to spend the rest of the summer with a dark cloud of a pouting Noah around. If my pal enjoyed life on a leash who was I to say otherwise? I had already tried and failed to save him once.

“It will be totally worth it if Noah and Hope get to re-couple, and everyone else is perfectly matched up.”

I wanted to retract the words as soon as they had escaped my lips. Why did I say something so stupid? I saw the confusion and hurt spread across MC and Lottie’s faces.

“Really? What makes you say that?” MC asked with a shaky voice.

“It’s obvious Gary picked Chelsea because he fancies the pants off her.”

Dammit this word vomit that comes when I am feeling anxious and insecure is just digging my grave. I was silently hoping MC would say something, anything just to show me that maybe I still had a fighting chance, but I knew I had just planted the final seed of doubt in MC’s mind. She would never let her guard down at this point. I just had to open my big mouth.

I thought about just swallowing what little pride I had left and try to fix what I had just broken. Let MC know that she was the only girl I had fancied at all this whole time. Tell her that I was falling in love with her but I was terrified I was never going to be enough to keep her. But just as soon as I went to open my mouth Lottie all but tackled me to the ground trying to get to the sink. She was clearly pissed off by my comments about Gary, and when I looked up MC was gone.

I knew then that I had just screwed myself over, I had lost my chance. But if she could be happy with Lucas I couldn’t stand in her way… right? My anxiety was crashing down hard, and my heart couldn’t bear a rejection at this point, not from her. I had successfully friend zoned myself again, resigned myself to live in my own personal Hell and watch the girl that I had fallen head over heels in love with slip from my grasp and into the arms of a man who was never going to love and appreciate her the way I did. And I knew I had no one to blame but myself.

The last week had been utter torture, watching Lucas and MC get closer. Looking through the window of the villa I could see his hands massage her shoulders in the kitchen as she made dinner, I couldn’t peel my eyes away as he kissed her gorgeous full lips. I was drinking shot after shot, just trying to ease my pain.

I couldn’t help myself during my toast, I had already downed too many drinks and my judgment went out the window. I let it slip that Lucas was a lucky man, and MC deserved better. MC had given me a quizzical look, but I was too much of a coward to just admit that being apart was killing me.

Next a new batch of hyenas entered the villa and caused so much unnecessary drama. I knew MC was stuck in the middle of it, because none of the other girls cared enough about anyone other than themselves and it killed me. When I offered to help the girls all yelled at me to get out. I was barely holding it together, and all this fighting was just making everything so much worse. I was desperately trying to hold off the panic attack that I could feel creeping it’s way in. Eventually I found myself by the pool, looking blankly off into the distance and trying to focus on my breathing as the girls screeched at each other in the background.

Finally by some miracle silence fell across the villa, and my ragged breathing began to even out. At least until I heard her soft voice ask if she could join me. She kicked her shoes off, and dipped her feet into the pool. A few strands of her hair tickled against my cheek as a gust of wind made its way through the villa bringing her familiar scent to my nostrils. She was so close to me, and I was struggling to think straight.

I was so grateful for her company, and she had such a calming presence as she reassured me that nothing was my fault, encouraged me to just have some fun. She reached her delicate hand into the pool and splashed me, shaking my head like a puppy I reached down to splash her back. My heart swelled to think she still at least cared about me enough to come try and fix my problems. I told her that she meant a lot to me, which almost made her look sad, but only for a moment. A warm smile quickly etched across her face, and the closeness and familiarity of having her near was putting all sorts of bad thoughts into my mind. Dangerous thoughts. I quickly excused myself, and left her sitting by the pool. She seemed off, but I figured it was probably just all of the fighting getting to her, and as much as I wanted to be the one to fix it for her I just didn’t trust myself to be around her for an extended period of time. I had already ruined our relationship, I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship as well. I couldn’t lose her, not completely.

Lucas chose her at the next re-coupling, Hannah and Henrik re-entered the Villa. Days were starting to blur together. Everyday moving incredibly slow and painful. Finally the final nail in my coffin, watching MC call out Lucas’ name in the final re-coupling. I felt numb inside, I had always been Good at hiding my emotions, tamping them down until I just felt empty inside. That and humor had been my defense mechanisms pretty much my whole life, but no matter how hard I tried my feelings refused to be numbed. It felt like I was bleeding out, but incredibly slowly like death by 1000 cuts.

Hannah chose me, and I tried my best to seem enthusiastic, but this new version of Hannah was even worse than the original. She was clearly here with a game plan, and that was to stir up more drama, get her petty revenge on Lottie, and then play savior when she “was a good friend” and picked her consolation prize in me. I was hoping and praying we would be the next couple out. I wanted so bad to just go home and lick my wounds in peace, but unfortunately Marisol and Graham were first followed by Jo and Ibrahim. How long was I going to have to endure this?

Finally this morning we had found out we were going to be having a Prom. Hannah had volunteered MC to help me write my speech for her, and to my complete surprise MC accepted. This was the closest contact we had had in days and my whole body felt like it was on fire. I was struggling to keep myself in check, she looked so gorgeous, and I just wanted to grab her and kiss her with everything I had. Everything felt awkward, I didn’t know how to behave, and clearly she didn’t either. When I finally made eye contact, her eyes looked so tired, and hollow. All of her playfulness was gone, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was wrong. Didn’t she get exactly what she wanted?

I was so busy trying to figure out what was wrong with MC that my speech was utter rubbish. Every suggestion I made was wrong, and I just couldn’t bring myself to care. All I cared about was MC and trying to figure out what had taken away that signature sparkle out of her eyes. She and Lucas seemed to be getting along well, Lucas sure liked to lay it on thick, and MC seemed grateful for the attention. Maybe there was more girl drama? I couldn’t put my finger on what could have made that beautiful smile leave her face. I longed to see her eyes crinkle as she smiled, hear that beautiful laugh escape her perfect lips, and more than anything I wanted to be the guy that made her do it, but I knew I had to let her go. Let her be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me.

Later that evening she came out wearing a beautiful white gown with glittery cutouts all over her torso, and beautifully deep cut to see her perfect chest on display. I could barely breathe. I met her eyes for a moment and smiled before we both looked away. Hannah had given me a death glare so many times because she always caught me staring but I honestly didn’t care.I spent the entire evening downing drink after drink, anything that I thought could numb the pain of watching Lucas’ hands hold so tight to the love of my life. But nothing helped.

Finally we gathered around the fire pit, I was praying they would vote us out. Please God let them send us home. I can’t fathom another night of sharing a bed with Hannah, watching Lucas curl around MC, and pretending that I wasn’t dying inside. The votes came back and by some miracle we were on the chopping block. After 20 minutes of painful deliberation the text came in and it was announced that Hannah and I had been voted out. Relief flooded through me like a tsunami. Finally I was being set free. MC made a b-line directly for me. Throwing her arms around me “I’m going to miss you so much!” “Me too” was all I could mutter. Hannah had asked MC to help her pack. I was desperately hoping she would come help me, so I could say my final goodbye in private, keep some form of dignity, but MC followed Hannah into the dressing room.

We finally made our way outside, and Hannah chided me about only having 10 pairs of boxers to pack after I joked about her taking so long packing. I couldn’t imagine she had that much to pack either… She hadn’t been here that long… Just saying. I couldn’t focus on her speech at all, and honestly I didn’t really care to hear what she had to say. I was desperate for MC to know the truth, and I just knew I had to rip the bandaid off. I knew it was selfish, that I should just let her go, let her be happy. But all rational thought went out the window, and I prepared to let the word vomit ensue.

Tears had already began stinging my eyes as I started my speech. MC was avoiding my gaze, but I had to get this off my chest if I was ever going to recover from this.

“I didn’t find love here, or at least couldn’t hold on to it.” Her eyes shot up to mine in complete shock, and I maintained that eye contact.

“If it could have been anyone, it would have been you.” I leaned in close, resting my hand on her shoulder. “Do me a favor… Win.” Her eyes searched mine for answers I didn’t have the strength to give her, but before she could open her mouth to respond I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and I walked away. I was too much of a coward to let her reject me to my face.

The entire car ride over to the Hotel had been painful, Hannah was furiously raging at me for outing my feelings. She dumped me right on the spot, which was honestly a relief. I didn’t have it in me to let her down gently.

Which brings us back to where we began. I had to stop thinking about this. I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out why I could never be enough. I had clearly been sitting here for a while. I looked at the clock beside the bed. 3:30 AM I got up stretching. I walked over to the window, looking down at the mostly empty streets below me. Wondering what MC was doing, was she awake like me? Did she even care anymore?

I decided to take a hot shower, trying but failing to clear my head of this whole mess. A mess I had created because I was too afraid to be honest with the girl I loved. I had let my insecurities and anxiety drive away the one thing I wanted to hold on to more than anything. I put on my favorite pair of doughnut boxers and flopped down on the bed flipping through the channels until I found the food network. Cupcake wars was on, it had always been one of my favorite shows but I just laid there. Heartbroken, and alone. I must have fell into an uneasy sleep sometime after 5, but I was awoken by a faint knock on my door around 6:30 AM.

POV: MC

The last 2 weeks had been torture. I came back from Casa Amor and hoped against hope that my perfect baker boy was still single. When he walked out of the Villa I let out a breath that I didn’t know I had been holding. My heart burst out of my chest, and we both just sat there beaming at each other. I honestly didn’t care at all when Lucas walked out with that bitch Blake. I couldn’t have cared less, they honestly probably better suited each other.

Lucas was attractive, and definitely the kind of guy that every girl dreams of taking home to her parents. A successful doctor, smart, polished. But I just didn’t have much of a spark with the guy, and he honestly kind of rubbed me the wrong way sometimes. He was selfish and calculating. Even if there was a physical attraction there, I knew it would never work out with him long term. He would grow tired of my peacemaking, and careful heart. My sense of humor would annoy him no doubt, and he was just so… posh. I didn’t feel like I could be 100% myself with the guy.

I had dated boys like that before, but I didn’t like the way they made me feel about myself, like somehow what I brought to the table was just never enough. Boys had always gravitated towards me because of my looks, but usually never stuck around for long. I had been cheated on so many times, and the ones that didn’t cheat always made me feel like they were doing me a favor by sticking around, or tried to change me. I had such a hard time letting down my walls, but with Bobby it was so easy. He would smile at me and suddenly it was like I had never been hurt before. I just wanted a partner that would laugh through life with me, and appreciate me for what I am. Someone who cares deeply about the well being of those around me, who doesn’t take life too seriously, has a silly sense of humor, and just wants everyone to get along. Just once I want to love someone, and have them love me back wholeheartedly and I thought I had finally found that in him.

When I finally got Bobby alone that night I was so excited and thought we were on the same page! He seemed so genuinely happy when I suggested we couple back up, but then that night he asked Lottie to share a bed. I was taken aback, and honestly a little hurt. I thought we were both feeling what I was feeling. Fear and doubt started to trickle into my mind… He had been called out for being the biggest player of the season. Was he just using me? Did he just want to string me along, while still exploring his other options? I couldn’t make sense of anything. He had avoided me pretty much the whole next day, barely speaking to me.

Then that night we were forced to couple up with someone to save them. Lottie immediately took Noah leaving me with the choice of Jakub, who honestly I would rather die than couple up with that laundry sack full of meat. Elijah, who was so insufferable. He talked about himself nonstop and refused to accept the fact that he was a hairstylist, not America’s next top model. If I thought Chelsea actually fancied him I would have saved him on her behalf, but I knew her bringing him back was purely because of the comments Gary had made on the video package we received. Finally Lucas, he certainly seemed like the least terrible option, but I wasn’t really thrilled to be honest. I explained to Lucas that we were partnering up purely on a friendship basis, which he seemed bummed about, but I wasn’t ready to shut the door on Bobby.

The next morning Bobby said he was going to make pancakes and was looking for someone to accompany him. I was ready to volunteer when Lottie’s hand shot out of the duvet, I know she didn’t mean to get in the way, but I was annoyed to say the least. He was already borrowing lip balm from her… am I missing something there? Maybe they are each others back up plan? Lottie had been so stuck on Gary, but maybe she wanted some form of security. She had always seemed more into Gary than he was in to her, and now Gary was partnered up with Chelsea. I tried to shake off the fear, but I just needed some form of reassurance. Bobby could be really hard to read sometimes, between him constantly pushing me to go on dates with the other guys, to barely batting his eyelashes at guys blatantly hitting on me in front of him. I thought we had moved passed all of that, and that we were in a really good place, at least until Lucas came out of nowhere and picked me in the disaster re-coupling… But there was always that nagging feeling in the back of my mind that maybe he just saw me as a summer romance at best, and at worst a place holder until someone he actually fancied walked in.

As I entered the kitchen he spun around to greet me, and immediately complimented me, as he always did. He was so good about that. It felt like we were maybe getting back to normal. But then I complimented him and Lottie on saving Hope and Noah, and he responded by saying he thought everyone was perfectly matched up. When I asked why he felt that way he just said something about Gary fancying the pants off Chelsea. My heart sank, I knew it, I knew he had been trying to politely tell me that he was not interested in continuing whatever relationship we were building. How could I be so blind? The signs had been there all along. He was just too nice to tell me to my face that he just didn’t feel the same way. Lottie was furious and on the war path, but I couldn’t be the one to fix it not this time. My heart was breaking, the boy I was in love with didn’t feel the same way, I had come up short yet again. I gathered what little pride I had left, and exited the kitchen as fast as I could.

I had learned long ago to never let them see you cry, so I sulked away to go cry in the bathroom. The hard thing about being such a tenderhearted person is that you care about everyone around you and you will do everything in your power to fix something for somebody else, but often times people just don't reciprocate the sentiment, and you are often left to lick your wounds alone.

I decided to try and make a go of things with Lucas, he seemed eager to make things work, and I was eager to forget about Bobby. I didn’t want to hurt anymore, but the harder I tried to make things work with Lucas, the more Bobby was on my mind. I wanted to hate him, I wanted to feel anything other than longing. I threw myself into the mercy of all the drama in the house, these new girls were closer to feral cats than women. I had zero interest in being friends with them, but the constant fighting was really getting to me. I was suffering enough, I just couldn’t bear the dumpster fire that the villa had become with all the fighting.

Eventually I found myself by the pool with a downcast Bobby. He was sitting there looking like an abandoned puppy. Like me he gets stressed out by all of the contention. He was blaming himself for everything which just made no sense. The girls had practically hissed at him when he was just trying to help. I tried to pull him out of his head by splashing him with water. A surprised smile crossed his face, and his smile could light up the whole villa. He splashed me back, and told me he was grateful that I came to check on him, that our chat meant a lot to him, and that I meant a lot to him too. I knew better than to get my hopes up, that he just meant as a friend. I tried to keep my composure, giving him a small smile, but whatever bandaid I had managed put over my heart had been ripped off all over again, and all that remained was the fresh raw wound. He looked me in the eyes one last time, and I desperately wanted to throw myself in his arms. Kiss every square inch of his beautiful face, but he got up and excused himself quickly. Once again I found myself crying alone under the cloak of night but this time Chelsea found me. She didn’t ask any questions. I think she already knew the answer anyway. She just held me, and let me cry.

Henrik and Hannah re-entered the villa. Henrik had been such a nice boy, granted I had never shown any interest in him before because I was set on Bobby. But he did bring a certain puppy like energy to the Villa, and it was nice to feel sincerely pursued by someone, but I could never cheat on Lucas. I have always been a loyal person, and my heart honestly just wasn’t in it anymore.

At the final re-coupling I stood up at the fire pit, and announced Lucas as my choice. Hannah announced that Bobby was hers. I tried not to wince as she announced that she was just “being a good friend.” Like somehow Bobby was just some consolation prize. He deserved more than that How dare she make him feel like he wasn’t a worthy companion. Lucas pulled me in for a cuddle and told me he was so happy I picked him. I smiled but didn’t even bother to respond. We only had to get through the next few days, and then time and distance would eventually pull us apart, and I would be able to properly grieve without the constant fear of being caught, and without having to see the ghost of once was strolling through the villa on a daily basis. I was going through the motions at best, but luckily I learned to hide my emotions pretty well. Lucas honestly didn’t seem to care, I think he saw me as a ticket to 50,000k more so than a real prospect.

The baby challenge was such a mess. I have always loved children, and always pictured being a mother. Lucas however turned out to be the biggest diva about it. He whined and complained the entire day, which it’s fine if you don’t see yourself with children. I wasn’t asking him to knock me up, but it was a challenge. I saw Bobby playing with Dale across the pool having so much fun as he tossed him in the air. I stifled a laugh as Bobby attempted a trick shot with the poor doll and ended up on the ground with Dale crashing down after him. My mind betrayed me thinking about how much fun we could have together during this challenge. Thinking about having children of our own. Remembering the time when we ended up on the floor after a make out session and he told me it was something to “embarrass the grand kids with.” It took everything inside of me to push those thoughts out of my mind. He wasn’t mine to fantasize about, not anymore.

Then this morning we were woken up with a text announcing that tonight would be prom. The girls were all excited about the thought of picking out new gowns, and dancing around with their partners. I tried my best to be excited too, but my mind was always halfway out the door these days. When we got the text announcing that we would be writing speeches about our partners, I honestly didn’t even know what to say. I liked Lucas as a person. I could see myself being friends with him after this maybe, but it felt so hollow to say that now.

I wrote my speech as quickly as possible just wanting to escape when Bobby entered the room looking for help. Hannah quickly volunteered me to help him, and I couldn’t help myself. I hadn’t been close to him in days, and I longed for his calm and comfort so I agreed. As we entered the roof terrace I could tell he was so uncomfortable, neither of us knew what to say. He rambled off his ideas for his speech and nothing made sense. It was like he had never met Hannah before. He had seemed excited when she picked him, but looking at him now he just seemed like a caged animal. The happy go lucky boy I had known was no where in sight, his signature smirk was gone, his bright eyes seemed dull, and it seemed like he couldn’t wait to get away from me, but at the same time longed to stay. I didn’t understand why he was so determined to keep me at arms length.

When I came down in my dress I saw Bobby’s eyes on me, but he quickly looked away, and so did I. He looked strait out of a Miami Vice episode, his outfit was so fitting for him. I chuckled to myself thinking about all of the banter we could have been bouncing off of each other, and I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked. Lucas had gotten a bit snippy though when he caught me staring. Then when we were by the fire pit it was announced that Bobby and Hannah, and Lottie and Gary were up to be eliminated, Lucas knew exactly who he wanted gone. Bobby and Hannah. He rattled off his reasons, and as much as I hated it, I knew the next day would be easier for me if Bobby wasn’t here. When the text came through Bobby looked so relieved. I once again couldn’t control myself and I ran into his arms. Hannah asked me to come help her pack, I was genuinely surprised by that because I had never really considered the girl as a friend, and even though I wanted to go with Bobby I felt like I couldn’t say no and trudged into the dressing room behind Hannah.

Once we got out front Hannah spat her annoyance at Bobby because he made a joke about her taking too long. I was instantly annoyed. She didn’t have that much to pack either… she had only been here for like 4 days. She was just busy playing the victim with her whoa is me act. Hannah would never appreciate him for who he was, and he deserved to have someone who saw the real him, and love every inch of him.

When it came time for his farewell speech I couldn’t even look at him. Tears were already starting to stream out of my eyes, and I was fighting a losing battle trying to keep it to a trickle and not a full blown flood. But then he said “I didn’t find love here, or at least I couldn’t hold on to it.” and my eyes shot up to find his eyes fixed on mine. “If it could have been anyone, it would have been you.” He leaned in close and whispered. “Do me a favor… win.” I thought I must have imagined it, that I had finally gone completely crazy. I stood there with my mouth agape like a fish but there was no mistaking it, he had looked me right in the eyes and laid it all out. My mind was reeling, but I didn’t even have time to respond at all before he grabbed his suitcase and made his way to the SUV waiting.

Nothing made sense, what did he mean?! He had all but told me he didn’t want me… right? He always seemed so chill and easy going about everything. Nothing ever seemed to phase him. Had it been possible that he was feeling every bit as insecure as I had? That we were both too hurt and scared from our pasts to give each other the reassurance that we both needed? Everyone made their way back into the house like Bobby hadn’t just dropped a whole ass bomb on his way out. Chelsea and Gary both gave me sympathetic looks as Lucas led me back into the villa.

I got ready for bed, but I just couldn’t make sense of anything. Lucas had tried to start something with me, but I told him I was exhausted, which was true, but I knew I wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon. I laid there awake for hours the ceiling turning into a projector in my mind as I watched our entire relationship play out like it was an old re-run of a tv show. Analyzing every little detail.

Around 3:30 AM I got up and quietly made my way to the producers room to wake them. I knew what I had to do. I explained to them that I wished to leave, that I had to go after Bobby. They tried for an hour to talk me out of it, “its the last day MC!” “He will be here tonight. Confront him then.” But I just couldn’t wait that long. I demanded they let me go and finally they begrudgingly relented. Next I had to break the news to Lucas. I silently wandered over to his side of the bed and woke him up asking if we could talk out on the couches. I knew he would not take it well, and I was right. He was furious, his face turned beet red, and he hurled all of his anger at me.

“Are you serious MC? How could you do this to me, to us? You are going to abandon everything that we have built together to chase after that.. that. Loser!?” He was waving his arms like a madman. “I mean it makes no sense! I can offer you the world MC, and you know that! What does he have to offer? Cupcakes and jokes?” The insults left his mouth like snake venom.

“How dare you!” I snarled back at him. Feeling brave for possibly the first time in my life. “Bobby is kind, funny, loving, loyal, and he cares about the people around him! There is so much of Bobby that no one in this house has seen, because they never put in the effort to see it.“ I was in his face at this point. “I don’t think you are honestly even mad about losing me, if you are mad about anything its about losing to him… why? Because you are so much better than him right? Or are you just upset about the fact that you definitely won’t be winning the 50,000 now?”

Lucas looked taken aback by my sudden outburst, I think he had expected me to recoil. But I was honestly so tired of listening to everyone in this damn villa talk about Bobby like he was some joke.

Retreating Lucas coldly responded with “How could you be so selfish?”

I knew I was being selfish, but for the first time in my life I was absolutely OK with it. I knew in my heart I was making the right decision for me. “I’m so sorry Lucas, truly. I never wanted to hurt you. I just know if I don’t follow him now I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

“So you have made up your mind then? You are just going to walk away?” He looked at me exasperated. “Well I can’t wait to see this blow up in your face MC.” There was an animalistic spark in his eyes. He had me right where he wanted me, and he was ready to go in for the kill. “Because he doesn’t really want you, you know that right? He’s just looking for the next best opportunity for himself. Leaving as the heartbroken goofball makes for great television doesn’t it?” He practically spat at me. A self satisfied smirk spreading across his face. “If he wanted you he would have said so any time in the last 2 weeks, not as he was leaving like some coward. You are just making a fool of yourself.”

My word that man knew how to pack an emotional punch. I felt all of the air leave my lungs. I knew he was hurting, lashing out with words he didn’t really mean, or maybe he did. But I knew I didn’t deserve what had just been thrown at me. Tears were streaming down my face, there was no stopping the flood gates once they had opened. I did the only thing I knew how to do. Run.

I ran up the stairs into the dressing room dumping all of my possessions in to my suitcase as quickly as I could. With all of the fuss Lucas was causing everyone else was awoken as well I could hear them all questioning Lucas about what was going on. Chelsea, and Gary were the only people who weren’t shocked, they quickly made their way upstairs helping me pack, which was unsurprising since they were the only people I considered true friends at this point. Everyone else was either siding with Lucas, or just staring at me like I had 5 heads sprouting out of my body. I could feel the joy oozing out of Hope as she realized that her only real competition had just self eliminated. But I didn’t care, I had made up my mind, and there was no turning back now. I gave Chelsea and Gary meaningful hugs and made my way to the SUV waiting to take me to the hotel.

The ride there was excruciating. What if I was too late? What if he didn’t really mean it? What if Lucas was right? Could he have just been using his exit for his own gain? What if I just made a total fool of myself on television for the whole world to see? So many disaster scenarios playing through my head. I felt like I was drowning, but I was fighting like hell to push those thoughts out of my head. There was just no way that the Bobby I knew would ever purposely hurt me and use me like that. I timidly entered the hotel and approached the front desk. I got his room number and made my way there. It was 6AM. It’s too early, he was most likely still asleep I told myself. I knew that was probably a lie, Bobby was always an early riser, but I just didn’t have the balls to knock. I paced in the hallway outside of his room for a half an hour, trying to get the courage, and practicing what I wanted to say. Finally I rapped my knuckles halfheartedly against his door. I heard movement on the other side and fought against the thoughts in my mind telling me to just run away. He opened the door and had clearly been asleep. His caramel eyes staring at me blearily, but instantly snapped to full attention.

POV Bobby

I woke up to the sound of light knocking. I wanted to ignore it, I just wasn’t in the mood or head space to be messed with by production, I was so mentally and physically exhausted, but I knew they wouldn’t go away. The knocking would just continue. I opened my eyes enough to get a good look at the clock. 6:30 I rolled my eyes throwing the covers off of my body and trudged my way over to open the door. Would these hounds ever just let me rest? Had they not seen that I have suffered enough?

Nothing could have possibly prepared me for the sight before me when I opened the door. I stood there in disbelief, surely this was a dream and MC was not standing outside of my hotel room right now. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all, I could see dried up tear trails cascading down her flawless skin. She was in her cherrygate pajamas with a grey sweatshirt loosely hanging over her shoulders. I couldn’t find words, I just stood there eyes wide and mouth agape. “MC?!”

“Hi.” she practically whispered. Failing to maintain eye contact.

“Hi.” I returned confused. “MC what are you doing here?” I was fighting the urge to grab her and just hold her close, she looked like a puppy that had been kicked.

“I left the show.... I left Lucas.” she replied blankly.

“You what?” I stammered out in shock.

“You left me no choice… Bobby… did you mean what you said last night?”

I look at her in disbelief. “MC you left the show? I don’t understand. You know walked away from the chance to win 50,000k? You walked away from Lucas?” My brain couldn’t process the scene in front of me, between the lack of sleep and the fact that I was still trying to wake up.

“Don’t change the subject! She snapped. “Did you mean what you said last night? Do you want to be with me?”

She was almost yelling which was surprising. She looked desperate, manic almost, and like she was ready to burst back into tears at any moment. She awkwardly shifted her weight from foot to foot and took a few deep breaths before gaining the courage to continue.

“Because I want to be with you, Bobby… More than anything.” Her voice was back to a whisper.

All of the air was instantly knocked out of my lungs. My mind was racing a million miles and hour, how is it possible that this angel is standing in front of me asking if I meant what I said? Asking if I want to be with her? Surely I am just imagining this, but even so I can’t contain myself any longer. A genuine smile forms on my lips for the first time in what feels like years, it feels almost foreign at this point. But I finally blurt out

“I meant every word... and I have been an absolute wreck without you... I have never needed someone in my life as much as I need you, and it scares the hell out of me because I know I’m not good enough.”

Tears begin to fall down her soft cheeks, and I notice that they are streaming down mine as well. She throws herself into my arms

“You are more than good enough Bobby, how can you not see that you are perfect?” She pulls back to look me in the eyes. “You are everything that I have been looking for my whole life, and you appreciate me for me… imperfect as I am.”

My heart is beating out of my chest, please let this be real. Please don’t let this be some cruel dream. I pull her back and cup her face to look into her beautiful eyes stroking her cheeks with my thumbs. The signature crinkle and sparkle of her eyes has returned. “I love you MC. More than I ever knew was possible.”

“I love you too!” she sobs into my neck. “So much. “Please never leave me again. I honestly don't think I would survive it.”

“I don’t think I would survive leaving you again either.” I smile at her “I just don’t understand how you could possibly love an idiot like me.”

She smirks at me and answers by crashing her lips onto mine. I hoist her legs up and around my waist and carry her into my room. Shutting the door behind me, and for the first time in my life everything makes sense, and everything is perfect. Maybe two broken pieces have finally found their perfect match, the match that will make them whole, the one who won’t look at them like a broken piece at all.

#litg #litgbobby #love island the game #loveislandthegamebobby

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sadienita · 5 years

Text

I’m Fine - Part 1

Joshua x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

You’ve got enough on your plate right now that you really don’t need to add a soulmate to the mix.

You groaned as you rolled out of bed and made your way across the room just to turn off the alarm. You figured being early autumn that it would still be warm in your room but apparently the weather had decided it wanted to leap right into fall so your room was slightly chilled. You hurried to throw on your robe and got yourself to the shower as quickly as humanly possible. Letting the warm water thaw your body, you stayed in just a little longer than you needed to.

Once dressed and organized you went to grab breakfast and finally checked your texts.

Every single one of them was from your mom.

[Hi honey, good luck today]

[Make sure you eat a good breakfast]

[I checked the weather forecast and your city should be nice and cool all week. No overheating, yay!]

[Did you book your next appointment yet? You said they were supposed to call last week.]

You sighed and your housemate, Iseul, looked up from her breakfast.

“Your mom?”

“Yeah, I mean I know she’s just worried but I can take care of myself.”

Iseul nodded thoughtfully as she finished her toast. “But with everything that started happening in the last year, doesn’t she have at least a little reason to be worried?”

You shot her a look. “I’m an adult, I know she’s going to worry but it can be overbearing and it doesn’t need to be.”

She looked unconvinced but let it go. “You should at least text her back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, typing up a quick response. Your mom was kind but she could be a real handful. She worried easily, though so did you so it wasn’t much of a surprise to see where you had gotten it from. You did your best to ease her worries with your response, hoping she would stop pestering you.

In truth it made you anxious when she was anxious. You had worked so hard throughout your whole undergrad to get your anxiety under control and you had finally managed to work with it and cope with it when things changed. And you mom had been on your case over it since she realized something was going wrong with your body.

You did you best to shove that from your mind, even though your stomach was telling you that your anxiety was building, but you were used to having an uneasy stomach at this point so you finished up packing your stuff before heading out to class.

Today would be a good day. That you were determined about. It was a new semester, a new year and the last one that you would have to do to get your degree. You had prepared yourself. You had snacks for the day, you mentally readied your speech for your profs.

“Hi, so I’m one of your students this year. I wanted to let you know that I’ve been dealing with this health issue and it might become a problem during class. I-”

“Hey stranger!”

Your thoughts were interrupted by Youngmi, as she caught up to you on your walk. As much as you were trying to be excited about meeting new people this year and making new friends, seeing a familiar face was like a breath of fresh air.

“Hey Youngmi, how was your summer?”

“Eh, it was work so not overly exciting but hey, I made money. You?”

“About the same, and more hospital and doctor’s visits.”

“Did you figure out yet?”

You sighed. “I guess we’re getting somewhere slowly. It’s just frustrating.”

“No that’s totally fair. Are you sure you’re good to walk to class.”

You shifted your backpack to the other shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine. I feel fine. Just first day jitters, that’s all.”

Youngmi nodded and you continued your walk. The building was busy when you got there and your stomach started to flip flop. You took a few deep breaths as you followed Youngmi through the crowd to find a seat in the auditorium. The feeling of butterflies and nerves in your stomach was only getting worse and you could swear your face was getting hot. You started to fan yourself and Youngmi gave you a curious look.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’m just feeling really warm and my stomach is nervous.”

Youngmi was about to say something else when the lecturer grabbed your attention. The both of you stopped chatting and focused on the lecture, trying to at least be good students the first day.

But you were distracted. You didn’t feel faint or like you would pass out. You just felt hot and jittery, but you had never experienced this before so you had no clue what it was. You just prayed it wasn’t something new on top of everything else.

After the lecture you and Youngmi made your way out of the auditorium. You found a quiet spot to eat lunch while you were between classes.

“Are you feeling any better?” She asked.

“Yeah, a bit, that was so weird. God I hope it’s not another symptom or something.”

Youngmi grinned at you. “Well I can think of one thing you probably haven’t considered yet.”

You gave her a curious look but before she had even opened her mouth again you caught onto what she was implying. “Hey! Don’t joke about that! I already have enough stress, that’s the last thing I need to add to my plate.”

She chuckled. “Okay but I’m serious, it might actually be-”

“Well hey look at the time!” You jumped up and gathered your stuff. “Best be getting to class!”

Youngmi whined your name but you ignored it. “Think about it, though.”

“Nope!” You took off down the hallway. That whole idea made you anxious. There was a right time for that sort of meeting and a wrong time and this was the wrong time, so it wouldn’t happen just yet. You had way too much on your plate for a relationship right now. You felt like way too much of a mess.

You found your classroom, a much smaller one than the large lecture theatre, and grabbed a spot. You made sure you had room to lie down and as soon as the professor came in you told her what you might need during the semester. You thanked your lucky stars that she was nice about it and had no problem with you doing what you needed to be healthy. More students filed into the classroom and it filled up quickly. You introduced yourself to the people at your table and listened to them talk about their summers or undergrad experiences. As the prof caught everyone’s attention to start class you started to feel the butterflies in your stomach again. You could feel your face heating up and you fanned yourself. There had to be some reason this was happening.

A boy came through the door in a hurry, looking a little flustered about being late. Your heart started to race as a fresh round of butterflies erupted in your stomach. You quickly looked down but you could feel his eyes land on you and bore holes in the top of your head. You knew he had noticed you too and you thanked the powers that be that there were no more seats at your table.

For the whole two hour class you avoided looking at him, though you could feel him staring. You were distracted and stressed. Now was not the time, really really not the time. You needed a plan for the end of class, some way to get passed him and out of the building fast.

The end of the class seemed to creep up on you though, but when the feeling started to subside you looked up and realized he was gone.

You breathed a sigh of relief and packed up your things. Today might not be a disaster. It just might end well.

Or you might have spoken too soon.

The second you left the room your heart started racing and you looked up to see him. He was leaning awkwardly against the wall, waiting for you. He looked up at you and smiled.

The second you made eye contact your stomach erupted with new butterflies and you knees started to feel weak. Some part of you wanted desperately to stay and talk with him for hours. To hold his hand, to kiss him, to fall in love with every little thing about him.”

“Hi,” he said a little shyly, pushing himself off from the wall and approaching. “I’m Joshua. And you must be my soulmate.”

It took you a moment to find your voice and come to your senses but when you did you shook your head.

“I, uh, I have to go.”

Joshua frowned. “Is something wrong, are you upset I didn’t come talk to you right away? Or this morning after the lecture?”

You shook your head. “I just- Now isn’t a good time, okay?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I-I’m sorry, I really just…” Your heart was pounding and you had no idea if it was from your soulmate or your anxiety. You were starting to feel dizzy and you were determined to get out of there as quickly as possible. You darted around him and took off down the hall, not daring to look behind you.

#is it fate #Seventeen #seventeen imagines #Svt #svt imagines #seventeen soulmate au #soulmate au #college au #joshua hong #joshua imagines #hong jisoo #joshua #the first of many parts #im so excited about this you guys

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thegrandimago · 4 years

Text

Experts concerned young people’s mental health particularly hit by reality of the climate crisis

Over the past few weeks Clover Hogan has found herself crying during the day and waking up at night gripped by panic. The 20-year-old, who now lives in London, grew up in Queensland, Australia, cheek by jowl with the country’s wildlife, fishing frogs out of the toilet and dodging snakes hanging from the ceiling.

The bushfires ravaging her homeland over the past few weeks have taken their toll. “I’ve found myself bursting into tears … just seeing the absolutely harrowing images of what’s happening in Australia – it is overwhelming and terrifying.”

Hogan said her lowest point came when she heard about the death of half a billion animals incinerated as the fires swept through the bush. “That was the moment where I felt my heart cleave into two pieces. I felt absolutely distraught.”

The physical impact of the climate crisis is impossible to ignore, but experts are becoming increasingly concerned about another, less obvious consequence of the escalating emergency – the strain it is putting on people’s mental wellbeing, especially the young.

Psychologists warn that the impact can be debilitating for the growing number of people overwhelmed by the scientific reality of ecological breakdown and for those who have lived through traumatic climate events, often on the climate frontline in the global south.

Until two years ago Dr Patrick Kennedy-Williams, a clinical psychologist from Oxford, had spent his career treating common mental health difficulties including anxiety, depression and trauma. Then something new started to happen. Climate scientists and researchers working in Oxford began to approach him asking for help.

“These were people who were essentially facing a barrage of negative information and downward trends in their work … and the more they engaged with the issue, the more they realised what needed to be done – and the more they felt that was bigger than their capacity to enact meaningful change,” he said. “The consequences of this can be pretty dire – anxiety, burnout and a sort of professional paralysis.”

Kennedy-Williams began to research the topic and realised it was not just scientists and researchers who were suffering. “There is a huge need among parents, for instance, who are asking for support on how to talk to their kids about this.”

When Kennedy-Williams began focusing on young people he assumed most would be older teenagers or at least have started secondary school. But he soon discovered worrying levels of environment-related stress and anxiety in much younger children.

“What I was most surprised by is how young the awareness and anxiety starts. My own daughter was just six when she came to me and said: ‘Daddy, are we winning the war against climate change?’ and I was just flummoxed by that question in the moment. It really showed me the importance as a parent of being prepared for the conversation, so we can respond in a helpful way.”

He says there is no way to completely shield young people from the reality of the climate crisis, and argues that would be counterproductive even if it were possible. Rather, parents should talk to their children about their concerns and help them feel empowered to take action – however small – that can make a difference.

A key moment for Kennedy-Williams came with the realisation that tackling “climate anxiety” and tackling the climate crisis were intrinsically linked.

“The positive thing from our perspective as psychologists is that we soon realised the cure to climate anxiety is the same as the cure for climate change – action. It is about getting out and doing something that helps.

“Record and celebrate the changes you make. Nobody is too small. Make connections with other people and at the same time realise that you are not going to cure this problem on your own. This isn’t all on you and it’s not sustainable to be working on solving climate change 24/7.”

This certainly resonates with Hogan, who has set up Force of Nature, an initiative aimed at helping young people realise their potential to create change.

Hogan’s group aims to target people aged 11-24 with a crash course in the climate crisis that helps them navigate their anxiety and realise their potential to get involved, take action and make a stand.

“This is only the beginning,” said Hogan. “We’re going to see massive, massive widespread climate crisis in every country around the world, so it’s about developing the emotional resilience to carry on, but in a way that ignites really dramatic individual initiative.”

Beyond climate anxiety – the fear that the current system is pushing the Earth beyond its ecological limits – experts are also warning of a sharp rise in trauma caused by the experience of climate-related disasters.

In the global south, increasingly intense storms, wildfires, droughts and heatwaves have left their mark not just physically but also on the mental wellbeing of millions of people.

For Elizabeth Wathuti, a climate activist from Kenya, her experience of climate anxiety is not so much about the future but what is happening now. “People in African countries experience eco-anxiety differently because climate change for us is about the impacts that we are already experiencing now and the possibilities of the situation getting worse,” she said.

She works with young people through the Green Generation Initiative she founded and sees the effects of eco-anxiety first-hand. A common worry she hears among students is: “We won’t die of old age, we’ll die from climate change.”

Extreme climate events can create poverty, which exacerbates mental health problems, and Wathuti says she has seen stress, depression and alcohol and drug abuse as some of the side-effects of climate anxiety and trauma in her country.

Even in the UK, a recent study by the Environment Agency found that people who experience extreme weather such as storms or flooding are 50% more likely to suffer from mental health problems, including stress and depression, for years afterwards.

More than 1,000 clinical psychologists have signed an open letter highlighting the impact of the crisis on people’s wellbeing and predicting “acute trauma on a global scale in response to extreme weather events, forced migration and conflict”.

Kaaren Knight, a clinical psychologist who coordinated the letter, said: “The physical impacts related to extreme weather, food shortages and conflict are intertwined with the additional burden of mental health impacts and it is these psychologists are particularly concerned about.”

She added that fear and trauma “significantly reduced psychological wellbeing”, particularly in children. “This is of huge concern to us and needs to be part of the conversation when we talk about climate breakdown.��

One of the high-profile signatories of the letter, Prof Mike Wang, the chair of the Association of Clinical Psychologists UK, said: “Inaction and complacency are the privileges of yesterday … Psychologists are ready and willing to help countries protect the health and wellbeing of their citizens given the inevitable social and psychological consequences of climate change.”

This rallying of the psychological profession around the climate crisis has led to experts around the world forming groups to research and treat the growing number of people caught up in the unfolding crisis, attempting to help them move from fear and paralysis towards action.

But even for those who are following this advice, the scale of the emergency is taking its toll. Kennedy Williams – who has set up his own group, Climate Psychologists, specialising in climate anxiety – said he and his colleagues were not immune from the psychological impacts of the crisis.

“This is such a universal thing that [we] have all been through our own set of climate-related grief and despair, and we talk about riding the wave between hope and despair … it is absolutely as real for us as it is for anyone else.”

Advice for parents

Remember that you do not need to be a climate expert It’s OK to explore learning together. If your child asks a question you can’t answer immediately, respond by saying: “What a great question. Let me look into that so I can answer it properly.”

Try to validate, rather than minimise, children’s emotions If children express anxiety, it’s much better to say: “It’s OK to feel worried. Here is what we can do about it,” than to say: “Don’t worry. It’s all fine.” But always try to support this emotion with suggestions for positive action.

Negative information hits harder Bad or threatening facts tend to resonate more strongly – and therefore stick in the mind. So try to balance one piece of negative news with three pieces of positive news. Have some examples of good climate-related news ready – for example, successful conservation projects.

For younger children, keep it local and tangible Suggest litter picks and school events. For teenagers, encourage them to stay connected at a wider level – help them write to their MP, take part in protests and join local communities and campaigns.

Set practical goals as a family and follow through Record and celebrate your climate successes together (even a piece of paper on the fridge door). Reinforce the message that small actions can make a big difference.

#science #climate change #environment #psychology #anxitey #climate crisis #climate #climate change anxiety

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somescribblestoperuse · 4 years

Text

A moment in history to create change for the better

As I fly out of Phnom Penh, the sun sets, figuratively and literally, on my four-month Cambodian adventure, cut short by two-thirds. The goodbyes were short and sweet - done on purpose as I’ve learnt my weakness over years gone by (tears are usually guaranteed). Even though anxieties and stress and adrenaline have been running high this week, at the same time, it’s not total despondency. It’s bittersweet as I look forward to seeing family and friends. I feel hopeful there is still more to come for my story in this wonderful country and with those I’ve met. Just under different circumstances - at least I would hope…

Within 4 days I’ve packed up my life (for the second time in 4 months), as we were told to return home ASAP. I’m returning to a country full of people that have gone into a state of panic (which I don’t think I’m quite prepared for alongside re-entry shock). But in amongst all the chaos, I realise we really are so privileged as Australians. We have a government that I have enough confidence in to intervene as necessary to get us home, if anything went wrong. I have money to fund my return. I have a support network of family and friends who will provide food, supplies and shelter as needed. While I acknowledge there are many within Australia that will experience their own hardships, especially with jobs jeopardised, we will recover in time - in terms of economy, jobs, health care and otherwise. Our country is developed enough to create innovative solutions and evolve and adapt accordingly, if we focus on the opportunities.

I can’t say the same about any of these points for Cambodia. Most of all, I have serious concerns about the impact this pandemic will have on the Khmer people. Foreigners (Barang) are leaving in hordes. Tourism will die down indefinitely affecting many businesses and essentially the livelihood of many. There is a fine line between those who do and don’t live in poverty. For the average tuk tuk driver, a small decline in their daily income can be the difference between eating or not. For the average family, one health scare - in a country with essentially a non-existent health care system - can be the difference between their children attending school or dropping out to earn money for the family.

It’s a scary time for everyone indeed. But is there any silver lining? I’m an optimistic person and would like to say there is. However, this once again may be coming from a place of privilege - where I don’t have many immediate worries apart from getting myself home and finding another job using a skill set that is fairly adaptable.

So that silver lining: I’d summarize my hope to be that we learn greater awareness, respect and empathy for our fellow humans and this world as a whole. For many that contract COVID-19, they will recover. But that’s not the point - it’s having an awareness of the potential impact on others and doing something to help them. It’s about not fighting with someone in the middle of Woolworths for toilet paper but rather respecting each other and not letting fear dominate. It’s about having empathy for others and realising that we are incredibly connected and social creatures, who rely on one another, especially mentally as we all go into isolation. We have already seen a wonderful example of the good side of humanity come out of Italy, with people gathering on their balconies to sing and dance along to music blasted throughout the area. And those who are volunteering in their community to buy food and supplies for the more vulnerable. And many more examples I’m sure.

This empathy needs to extend outside one’s own country. We need to respect the fragility of this globalised world we live in. If we don’t have empathy and an understanding of the world beyond our borders, we will continue to be baffled and severely affected by any future situations like Coronavirus because our scope was too narrow. We will also never fully understand the impressive impact we can make as a connected global community.

What do I mean by this? Let’s look at the example already coming out of Venice - the canals are clear and wildlife is returning for the first time in a long time as a result of reduced tourism. This has happened in the space of weeks. Sure it’s taken a global crisis but we know it’s possible to create change - we just need to want it enough and to finally take action. It doesn’t have to take a global crisis to implement systemised measures. You might say, ‘yeah but human lives are at stake because of COVID-19 and that’s why we’ve done something about it’. But the thing is human lives will continue to be at stake as a result of environmental and climate change disasters. That’s what we learnt the hard way during the Australian bushfires this past summer. Let’s continue to learn from what’s happening at the moment. In Australia, we had the opportunity to take a stand after our bushfire crisis but we didn’t. Let’s not miss the opportunity again.

As a global community, we can make changes and a positive impact, together. Whether it’s for the environment, looking out for the mental wellbeing of others, or improving the systems we have in place for the vulnerable and underprivileged in our society who are severely affected by incidents and crisis. We just need respect, awareness and empathy for our fellow humans and the world as a whole.

For me, I like to think I have grown in these ways over the last four months in Cambodia but even moreso over the last few days (which you would hope considering I’m doing an awful lot of preaching right now). We were told to pack our things and leave. Don’t say goodbye to everyone. Don’t wait a couple of weeks. Just leave. I can’t even imagine being in a more vulnerable situation, such as an asylum seeker or refugee escaping their country because of war or famine or whatever it may be. Unimaginable fear with no place to go. It’s a position I hope I never have to be in. As I sit on the first leg of my flight home, I’m more grateful than ever before of both my life and the country I live in.

So what’s next? On a personal level, I’m looking forward to two weeks isolation, which may sound strange (and maybe don’t quote me on that in 5 days). I’ll need the time to recuperate, reflect and take those first steps to set myself up again. Also, can’t complain about some Netflix and couch time (again, fully aware of privilege here).

On a global scale, let’s get through these next few weeks and months together. Don’t let fear dominate. Be kind. This will become a significant moment in history with potential to change the world as we know it. Let’s not miss the opportunity to learn from it and create change for the better.

#corona #bekind #covid19

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navalcriminalimagines · 5 years

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Comfort zone - 2

Author's note: the first part was well received and I'm really happy about it!! I don't really know how many there will be but I love writing this series and many more ideas keep growing in my head 😊 I write a lot about panic attacks and anxiety in this series, because it's been one of my problems for years now and I want to express myself about it! If anyone is going through this and wants to talk about it, DM me anytime!! I know how lonely we can feel! ♥️

Tag list (if you want to be tag, just let me know!): @madpanda75 @zombz78

Once again that night, you slept at Rafael's. He gently offered his bed but you felt bad about him sleeping on his couch once more so you told him you don't mind him sleeping next to you. But the two of you were uncomfortable in bed, both on your back, staring at the ceiling and no one dare to move. The only thing you could here was his breath. "Thank you for everything, Rafael," you whispered, in case he was sleeping. "We barely know each other but you are here for me while no one else is," tears field your eyes. The truth was hard to accept. You used to have friends when you were with Jeff. At least, you thought they were friends but none of them called or texted to ask how you were doing.

"You are someone I appreciate, y/n, and that's what friends are for," he answered.

"That's the thing! Are we friends? I mean, we were just co-workers before-"

"Like I said, you and your squad changed me. You opened my heart, while I worked so hard to close it years ago. So yeah, if you want me to be your friend, I happily am," you stayed silent for a moment. It felt good to know Rafael is your friend. And he already proved you could count on him, day or night.

"So my friend won't mind to hold me?" you shyly asked and you heard him chuckle.

"Come over here," he opened his arms, and you rested your head on his chest. He kissed your hair and put his hand on your shoulder, he didn't want to touch you lower, in case you would feel embarrassed. "Try to get some rest, y/n,"

When you opened your eyes, it was still dark outside. You could hear Rafael slightly snoring above your head. You stayed there for a while, considering what to do. Leaving? Staying? Trying to fall back to sleep? You hated when you asked yourself too many questions, instead of appreciate the moment. It was a good thing at work but it ruined your personal life. You managed to controlled it with Jeff but the complicated, lost, anxious and scared young lady was coming back very quickly. It's been a few weeks since you considered taking your meds again. But you remembered the struggle it was to stop taking them. Plus, it was totally incompatible with being a detective.

You finally decided to surprise and thank Rafael with a really nice breakfast. It's been a long time since you didn't have a typical french breakfast. You looked on your phone for the nearest french bakery. It actually was almost half an hour from Rafael's place but you didn't care since it was only 5am. You brought a baguette (french bread), croissants, pain au chocolat (basically croissants with chocolat in it), some raspberry jam and coffee. You got back to the apartment, hoping that Rafael was still asleep but you saw the light in his bedroom. "Y/n?" You heard his sleepy voice. You walked to the bedroom, where he was still under the covers, slowly waking up. "Morning Rafael," you smiled.

"Morning," he mumbled, "where were you?"

"You'll see, but until I say you can, you are forbidden to step outside this room," you smiled and he chuckled.

"You know that's my apartment,"

"Yea but you don't want to get the best detective you've known mad, do you?"

Rafael stayed in his bed until you allowed him to come out of it. A large smile crossed his face when he saw all the food on the table and the smell from it was just intoxicating. He didn't controlled himself when he came close to you, hug you and kissed your temple, "You're the best," he said. You are breakfast silently. It would have been much easier if you were in love with Rafael, or just still in love with Jeff but you hated yourself for only wanting Sonny.

Everything was okay until you prepared coffee to go for you and Rafael. The lack of sleep and thinking of Sonny made you split the brown liquid all over your shirt. "Damnnit! What a dumbass y/n," you yelled at yourself. Rafael rushed at you and saw the disaster in his kitchen. He wanted to help you clean but you refused. He went to his bedroom and came back to the kitchen with one of his shirt. A pale pink. You wanted to refuse but the look on his face didn't let you the choice.

It was big for you but you tucked it in your black jeans. "You look great, don't worry,"

You drove him at his office and went to work. Everyone noticed it wasn't your shirt but they all guessed it was Jeff's. Except for Sonny. He shadowed Rafael for long enough to recognize that shirt. He got it weeks ago that you were closer to the ADA and your partner didn't appreciate it. But who was he to tell you something? You still had your engagement ring. Were you having an affair? He couldn't believe it. You told him once how faithful was important to you, you truly believed in it. You couldn't have break one of your principles for the lawyer. But doubts drove him crazy since you entered the precinct. You look like you didn't have much sleep last night. And you were awfully quiet.

Bored and full of questions, Sonny decided to bother you. At first it was just making faces at you but it didn't work. Then he played with his pen and changed the ink. Sonny threatened to shoot you with the ink. He didn't mean to but when he pressed, the ink split at your chest. The shirt. "Are you fucking serious, Carisi?" You yelled and rushed to the ladies room. Amanda gave Sonny an accusing look and he decided to follow. He knocked but came in before you told him to enter. You were in just your bra, trying to wash the Rafael's shirt with soap and cold water. You turned to see who came in and Sonny just stood there, literally frozen in place as he stares your chest or maybe your "underboob" tattoo. "What do you think- about turning around, Carisi?" You said and he came back to reality. He did turn his back at you and you continued to wash the shirt. The blue ink's stain just kept getting bigger and it was making you madder at yourself and your partner. Sonny could hear you swearing at yourself, he took a little look over his shoulder to see you desperately attempting to clean it. "I'm sorry y/n, I'll take it to the dry cleaner," he apologized.

"It's not mine, Carisi. I have to give it back tonight," you almost cried. You were desperately crying over a little - and not so bad - thing. What was wrong with you?

"Ya, to Barba," he bitterly said. He knew it. You sarcastically laughed between your cries.

"Yes, that's his. And it probably costs more than my rent and yours, reunited,"

"Don't worry, he won't be mad at his precious detective,"

His back was still turn at you but you turned the water off and moved to look at your partner. "A problem, Dominick?" You asked, wiping your tears.

"You changed, y/n. You are really close to Barba and now you're wearing one of his shirts. Did you spend the night with him?" He had to ask. He needed to know. But you couldn't see the look on his face. You let the shirt in the sink and put your blazer on, just enough to cover your torso. You walked in front of Sonny to look at him in the eyes.

"What if?" You simply said. He didn't answer, just took your hand in his and showing off your ring.

"I can't believe you cheated on Jeff. That's not you. That's not my partner. Unless you aren't the person you used to be," you stayed silent for a moment, considering to tell the truth. But it was too easy, and he has a girlfriend anyway. What would be the point to tell him you're in love with him? That Rafael is the only one that knows? That all of your mental issues from the past were coming back? Why would you?

"You don't know me, Carisi."

You grabbed Rafael's shirt and left Sonny alone in the ladies room. You rushed to your locker and luckily one of your NYPD shirt you use to workout was there and clean. You put in on. In the squadroom, Sonny looked miserable but it's better this way, isn't it? He is with someone and seems happy with her, why would you ruin that? But why would he care if you were dating Rafael? You felt your chest compressing, and you started to suffocate. You left the precinct before anyone noticed your panic attack. You drove to the only place you would be able to calm down.

Carmen let you in but informed you that Barba was in a mood. You knocked and heard him, "Carmen, I said no interruptions," he didn't raise his head to see who it was. But the silence distracted him. He didn't see anyone at first until he heard you heavily breathing, sitting on the floor against one of his books shelf. He put his pen down and stood up. As he came closer to you, he noticed you were nervously scratching his shirt. Your eyes were fixing an invisible point. He quickly went to Carmen and asked her for a big glass of cold water. Rafael sat next to you and brought you against his chest. "I'm here, y/n. You're not alone," he whispered. He understood that's what you needed. Someone to lean on. Someone to be here for you. Someone to love you. Just someone.

"I'm sorry," you cried. Carmen came in with the water, she gently asked if you needed something else, but Rafael said it's okay. He watched you drink the full glass. After many panic attacks when you were younger, you realized drinking cold water was helping to go through it.

Rafael patiently waited next to you until you were finally calmed. "Wanna talk about it?" He asked, his arm still around your shoulders.

"I ruined your shirt, I'm sorry," you answered.

"Please, tell me you didn't panic because of it?"

"No, no. It's not- about that," you reassured him.

You decided to tell Rafael about your conversation with Sonny. For the ADA, it obviously was jealousy but you were not buying it. You stayed in his office for a while until Sonny called to tell you, you have a job to do. Outside of the courthouse, your partner was standing against your car, waiting for you. "You didn't have to come all over here, I said I was on my way,"

"You're lucky I didn't say Liv you were with your boyfriend when she asked where you were,"

His ton was driving you crazy. Is this jealousy?

"I didn't ask you to cover me, Sonny," he shook his head in disbelief. What was happening to his partner and best friend?

"Great, next time I won't,"

No matter what how tense it was between the two of you, Sonny still opened to door of the car for you, just like always. The ride to arrest a suspect was long and silent. Both of your phones buzzed. You concluded it was his girlfriend, and Sonny concluded it was Rafael. The rest of the day was heavy. You and Sonny barely talked to each other, you spent your time with Fin, while Sonny was with Amanda. By the end of the day, a decision was made. You entered into Liv's office before she left to see her boy.

"Liv, I want to change my partner,"

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werewolfdays · 4 years

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Ask Her Out - Snippet

of course I had to write Jayde being a disaster bi trying to ask Nadya out on a date for the first time. Probably my last writing post for this year! it’s been a really really good one for this blog and for my writing so I just wanna thank everyone who follows me and reads my stuff (and sometimes actually enjoys my stuff?? still a weird concept for me) and fingers crossed for a good 2020! -

Okay, I can do this. I thought to myself for the hundredth time today. I can do this. It’s not like I haven’t asked someone out before. Well, not someone like her. And not necessarily in this kind of context. For the first time I was actually nervous about doing this sort of thing. I just wish I could get it the fuck together and act normal because that’s what Nadya deserves. Normal.

That made me second guess this. Maybe I shouldn’t ask her. Maybe she doesn’t even like me the way I liked her. Maybe when I kissed her it was only me that wanted it… No. This wasn’t one-sided. I felt it when she kissed me back. But it did little for my confidence because Nadya could do a lot better than me.

The fact that this wasn’t one-sided made me realize that it couldn’t be all my decision. My feelings for Nadya were growing every day. I wanted her in the purest sense and it was becoming impossible for me to ignore unless I wanted to torture myself more than I usually do. The best thing I could do, for both of us, was to be straightforward with her. Ask Nadya what she wanted. If she didn’t feel the same, then I could let it go and that would be that.

Of course that was what I was terrified of…

I found her sitting at a table outside of the Den, studying her medical textbook like she usually does during her alone time. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even hear me approach. The pen in her hand was busy scribbling notes, her eyes scanning the paragraphs and diagrams in the book and double checking whatever she had open on her laptop. It was a fascinating process to watch. I could only imagine all of the information she was absorbing.

Not wanting to make her feel cornered, I sat across from her and not beside her. Only when the table shifted slightly from my weight did she notice my arrival. Nadya’s head snapped up and her expression brightened in a smile, made all the more adorable by the glasses resting on the bridge of her nose.

“Hi, Jay.” Nadya gave her usual greeting with a slight blush. The chilly breeze blew some strands of hair in her face and she brushed it behind her ear with the hand holding the pen, unknowingly leaving a small streak of ink on her jaw.

I smiled half to myself, “Hey, Nadya.”

“Do you need something?” her brow furrowed just a fraction in worry, probably picking up on my anxiety.

“No,” I shook my head, definitely too quickly, “Well, yeah, actually. I wanted to ask you… uh, what kind of food do you like? Or drinks? You know, maybe a special coffee or tea or something… like that.” Jesus, I’m embarrassing myself. The desire to crumble into dust was overwhelming in this moment.

Nadya, completely oblivious to my deeper meaning, asked, “Are you going to the store?”

“I wasn’t really planning on it… unless you needed something?” Well, this was falling apart a lot quicker than I thought it would. At least Nadya didn’t seem aware of how badly I wanted to kick myself.

“I actually might need a few things.” Nadya said apologetically, “We don’t have to go now, but-”

“No, we can go now if you want.” I agreed eagerly. Maybe this would give me some time to pull myself together and regroup my thoughts.

“Great.” Nadya lit up, gathering all of her work and putting it in her bookbag. “Let me just drop this off in my room.”

“Of course.” I got up to follow her.

The entire walk to her room was silent. I spent most of it lost in my thoughts, trying to think of a better way to phrase the question I somehow failed to ask, but became increasingly aware of Nadya’s presence. We were walking side by side, every now and then our gaits would brush our shoulders together and I couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to reach for her hand. Wondering if she would like that. Or if she would even want it.

Nadya unlocked her door when we got to it and pushed it open, “I’ll only be a sec, but you can still come in if you want.”

“Thanks.” the last time I was in her room was when I kissed her last night. Obviously nothing has visibly changed, but it somehow felt different. Just like we did.

I watched Nadya hang her bookbag on the back of her desk chair and rifle through one of the drawers. Watching her do something so simple made me want to kiss her again. Hell, everything nowadays made me want to kiss her. But I wanted our second kiss to be in a different setting where we put everything out in front of us. I didn’t want to kiss her in the limbo of not knowing what we are to each other. And it was a topic I wanted to discuss over something normal, like a dinner date.

Nadya pocketed a folded piece of paper and put her glasses into a smaller bag that she threw over one shoulder. “Okay, I’m good to go.”

Our journey out of the Lodge fell back into silence again. That is until I felt Nadya’s hand brush against mine. The sudden touch made me flinch away like I was somehow responsible for an offensive act.

“Sorry.” I said quickly.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Nadya replied just as fast, “It wasn’t you.”

That answer dwelled in my head for the rest of the walk. Was she… reaching for my hand? Did she want me to reach for hers? Was it a genuine accident? That wouldn’t be too far-fetched considering how closely we’ve been walking together. I don’t think I have ever spent so much effort overthinking such an insignificant moment before. This girl was driving me crazy. She threw me off so bad that it was a wonder I haven’t forgotten how to walk.

Once we got outside, I led us towards the truck, but Nadya hesitated when I went to the driver’s side. My brow furrowed in confusion as I looked at her expectantly, thinking there was something wrong. Maybe she realized what I was trying to ask earlier and it made her uncomfortable. The thought made my stomach drop.

“Can we, um…” her eyes drifted over to my motorcycle parked right next to us, “Can we take the bike?”

I smiled in relief at the suggestion, turning around to look at the motorcycle with pride. “Sure,” then I raised an eyebrow at her, “You ever ridden one before?”

“No,” Nadya answered. I fished in the bed of the truck for the only helmet I had and handed it to her after brushing it off, “But it always looked fun.” she put the helmet on with an excited grin that was infectious.

“It is fun.” I told her, settling on the bike and waiting.

She didn’t move to get on. “Where’s your helmet?”

“You’re wearing it.”

“Jay,” Nadya sighed, raising a hand to undo the strap. “I can’t take your helmet.”

I chuckled a little, reaching up and grabbing her wrist to stop her, “Nadya, it’s fine. I never wear it anyway. It’s yours.”

“You don’t wear a helmet?” her voice sounded incredulous.

“Not really.” I shrugged, letting her go. Nadya glared at me in disbelief, “My head’s still intact.” I pointed out, knocking my knuckles against my temple.

“Yeah, it’s called dumb luck.” she couldn’t have been too mad because she gave me a playful shove.

“You gonna get on or not?” I laughed and tied my hair up in a messy bun.

Begrudgingly, Nadya climbed on behind me. “You really need to work on that self preservation instinct.”

Logically, I was prepared for it. But mentally… When Nadya wrapped her arms around my waist, it sent my mind spinning through a hurricane. Being this close to her again threatened to overwhelm me. We were outside where there were thousands of scents and sounds, but my senses zeroed in on her to be immediately consumed. It both excited me and calmed my nerves at the same time. I had to fight not to be completely lost in her proximity. It was a miracle that I even thought of a reply at all.

“Whatever you say.”

I felt her heart begin to gallop when I revved the engine and I wondered if it was because of me or the bike. Knowing that I had at least some of the same affect on her that she had on me would be reassuring, but there was no way to tell. Not unless I asked. I wasn’t exactly ready to bring it up right now.

The trail out of the Lodge’s grounds was a few miles of windy road through the dense forest that the property rested in. Some stretches of it became too narrow for more than one car to drive through it at a time, but it was no issue for the bike. Still, I kept a relaxed speed to be safe. After all, I did have precious cargo with me now. I could feel Nadya looking around at the gorgeous scenery we were travelling through, watching the trees and what little sky broke through the branches. If I wasn’t focused on driving, I would’ve done the same. I still smiled at the sighs of wonder that Nadya breathed out against me.

It was already pretty cold out and the wind from driving made the weather’s bite all the more sharper. Nadya shivered when I picked up speed during a straightforward patch of trail and she held onto me tighter, resting her chin on my shoulder. I knew it was because I was warm, and I certainly didn’t have any problem with that, but it couldn’t stop my heart from singing with hope. Maybe she liked being close to me like this. I would let her know that she could whenever she wanted to.

We eventually made our way into town and I parked in front of the general market.

Nadya chuckled when I turned the engine off, “Okay, you were right. That was pretty awesome.”

“Motorcycles aren’t always death machines.” I replied while she got off.

Nadya ran a hand through her hair after she took the helmet off and it made me stumble when I dismounted the bike. As if it was instinct, Nadya reached out and grabbed my arm to steady me. That was all it took for the nerves to return. The familiar tingling sensation numbed my arm where her hand made contact and lit the rest of my body on fire.

“You okay?”

“Um, y-yeah,” I nodded, nervously tucking loose hair behind my ear while I scrambled for an excuse, “Yeah, my foot got caught, I think.”

She seemed to have accepted that excuse, much to my relief, and we continued on into the store. I followed Nadya past several isles, rehearsing my second attempt in my head. Then I rolled my eyes at myself. Could I be acting any more like a stupid teenager? What, am I on some stupid romance movie? That idea made me cringe and I wanted to forget this whole thing for a frustrating moment.

Nadya was still oblivious to the crisis I was going through, her eyes scanning the shelves in the medical section with that cute concentrated frown that she does. After a minute, she pulled out the piece of paper that she put in her back pocket before we left and put her glasses on to read whatever was written on it. I waited, somewhat transfixed, as she picked out a few bottles and medical supplies, dumping them in the handheld basket I was carrying for her.

“What do you need all of this for?” I finally asked.

She casted me a playful side-glance, “For you.”

“Me?” A crooked grin appeared on my face, “What makes me so special?”

“The fact that you can barely go anywhere without getting yourself hurt.” she stated nonchalantly while studying the back of a pill bottle.

“Okay, that’s an exaggeration.” I snatched the bottle out of her hand and placed it back on the shelf.

Nadya raised her eyebrows at me, as if to say Really? and picked the bottle back up again. “It happens about seventy percent of the time.”

I scoffed, “Forty.”

“That’s wishful thinking. Sixty.” she fired back.

“Fifty.”

“Fifty-five if you’re behaving.”

I never really thought about the statistics, but her math was probably correct. So I switched tactics, “What about you miss goodie two-shoes? With a disposition and a face like that, it’s a wonder you haven’t gotten mugged.”

“What does that mean?” Nadya asked through a giggle.

“You know,” I felt the confidence that had built up from our banter start to crumble, “Kind eyes… gorgeous smile…” I couldn’t tear my eyes off of her as I waited for her reaction.

A deep blush colored Nadya’s cheeks when she realized the compliment was genuine. Her eyes dropped down sheepishly to the paper she was still holding. After a long, terrifying pause, she handed it to me. It was a list of words that must’ve been medicine related because I only recognized a few of them and couldn’t pronounce many more than that.

“They like the idea of me joining the clinic.” she explained and I pushed away the sinking feeling I felt from her changing the subject. “When I went there earlier today, I saw that the place is pretty barren as far as supplies go, so I made a list and Toby’s father gave me his credit card to buy everything I think we might need.”

“Nadya, this is great.” I told her honestly. Just because I didn’t know how to take her silence at my blatant flirting didn’t mean I wasn’t happy for her.

“Well, it’s really all thanks to you.” her blush returned as she beamed at me. That made up for the dread in the pit of my stomach. “You put in a good word for me.”

I felt my own cheeks grow hot and I handed the list back to her. “Anytime. Anything you need from me is yours.”

We stared at each other for what felt like forever, but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. The gentle look in her enchanting brown eyes made the rest of the store completely disappear. Nadya’s silent gaze spoke a thousand words that I couldn’t decipher in this moment where I was lost in her. Then I was distracted by how far I was from her. Maybe it was only a foot or two, but it felt unbearably like miles. There was a voice in the back of my head begging me to move closer. Begging me to kiss her again.

“I’ve always known I could count on you, Jay.” Nadya told me softly.

I slowly reached for her. My fingers had just barely made contact with her forearm when a loud crackle from the store’s loudspeaker made me jump. An employee called for someone’s assistance on aisle three and I couldn’t care less, but the echoing monotone voice brought me back to earth. Not here. Not yet. The voice in my mind spoke. So I pulled my hand back.

“Did you get everything you needed?” I asked in a somewhat hoarse tone.

Nadya blinked like she just came out of a trance too and looked at her list for a few moments. “Um, yeah. Everything that I can get here.”

I noticed while we were waiting in line to purchase our items that Nadya had grown uncharacteristically quiet. She didn’t speak to me or anyone else except for the cashier when it was our turn. Even her glances were brief. It wasn’t until we got back to the bike that I realized it was definitely something that I did because she didn’t wrap her arms around me this time, she only lightly placed her hands on my sides to hold on.

That heavy sinking feeling filled my gut again. It made me regret every stupid decision I’ve ever made. My mind ran through every single thing I’ve done to cause her offense and I spent the rest of the ride silently reprimanding myself for it. Rehearsing an apology instead of a way to ask her out now. All of it coalesced as one phrase inside my head, She deserves better than me.

Once we got home, I was eager for a turn. Wanting to run and banish all of these feelings from my mind. Or at the very least, try to. Pretend like I can. Maybe if I pretend hard enough, it will actually happen.

I said a quick goodbye while Nadya returned the helmet to the bed of the truck and started to walk away, trying not to look at her because of how painful it was. How painful it was that I already messed this up before it even started.

“Jayde?” Nadya called.

My steps halted and I half turned to look at her. “Yes?”

“What were you really asking about?” she hesitated for a second, her feet shuffling in place like she wasn’t sure about where she wanted to go, but then she tentatively came towards me. “Earlier.”

I knew exactly what she was referring to. And the fact that she suspected was even more surprising considering she had been oblivious up to this point. I suppose I should’ve known that she would put it together. Nadya is too smart to not figure it out. Well, I couldn’t avoid it anymore. More importantly, I didn’t want to. Now was the time to leap into the unknown.

“I was…” the words were still hard to get out. My hands started to shake just like they did when I went to kiss her last night. “I was trying to ask you out.”

“On a date?” Nadya asked, completely bewildered, “Romantically…?”

She sounded so baffled that I let out a half-amused, half-nervous breath, “Yeah, exactly like that.”

There was a long moment before she said anything else, “I didn’t think…”

“Didn’t think what?”

“Well,” Nadya started to fidget with a ring that she was wearing, “I felt something when you kissed me, but… today you were acting weird and I was starting to think that maybe you changed your mind.”

It was my turn to be baffled. How she could think that I would ever change my mind was an impossible concept for me to grasp. My head shook with disbelief and I took a couple step towards her, “I want to be with you. I want you so bad that I’ve been freaking out about it, trying to figure out the best way to tell you. And even then I wasn’t sure you wanted me.”

Her voice was barely more than a whisper, “Of course I want you.”

The relief I felt at her soft spoken words was so profound that I actually felt my eyes begin to mist. I released something between a sigh and a laugh, trying to rein in the emotions that were threatening to get away from me. I felt utterly ridiculous for all of my worries, but in the best way. “Then what’s stopping us?”

Now that we were finally saying it, now that we finally admitted what we wanted, the energy in me was making my skin tingle as though my very soul was trying to break free. Nadya’s gaze remained locked on mine for a handful of charged beats. Her eyes scanned my features carefully like she was looking for any sign that I might be lying. She would find none, of that I was certain. When her warm eyes settled back on mine, a small, shy smile crept across her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Nadya asked.

It took everything in me not to immediately pitch forward, but I wanted this to be all her initiative. “You don’t ever have to ask.”

Nadya’s lips met mine for the second time and it was just as breathtaking as the first. Just as comforting and fulfilling. Only now there weren’t any doubts between us, only a certainty that was powerful and strong. I felt it in the passionate kiss she gave me, in the way her hands went to my hips at the same time mine reached up to cup her face. It ignited my body and drew me closer to her. My thumbs lightly brushed her cheeks, still careful and not wanting to come on too strong, but I couldn’t not touch her. It didn’t seem to scare her. Nadya actually leaned into me more, wrapping her arms around my lower back to pull me even closer. If I could have this every day for the rest of my life, I would die happy.

We broke away to regain breath and I took the quiet moments to let her fill my erratic senses. The intensity with which I felt her was starting to fully dawn on me. How much I cherished having her in my arms. The fact that I knew there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her if she asked. I knew I was falling for her, but somewhere between that realization and now, I had fully fallen. It took me so long to recognize it because it felt different in a way that was hard to describe. But I knew it was the best feeling I’ve ever felt. It gave me hope. It gave me warmth. Most of all, it made me feel safe, and I haven’t felt this safe since I was a kid with my family.

I felt Nadya smile against my touch, “You were freaking out, huh?”

When I opened my eyes, I saw her smile was a little cocky. It made me laugh and I dropped my hands to hold hers. “Yeah, uh, I promise I’m not usually so awkward about this sort of thing. It’s just… different with you.”

She tilted her head slightly, “Why is it different?”

“I don’t know, it just is.” I saw her grin grow wider, so I continued through another laugh, “Don’t make fun of me, I’m trying to be normal!”

“If I wanted normal, I probably wouldn’t have kissed a werewolf.” Nadya giggled.

“Excellent point.” I agreed with a slow, amused nod.

“You don’t have to try to be anything other than yourself with me.”

That meant the world to me. My right hand came up to rest on her cheek again and she leaned into it, looking at me with such a fond gaze. “Let me make you dinner tonight.” I begged softly, caressing her cheek, “And take you somewhere pretty.”

She cradled my other hand close to her chest and started to play with my fingers, “You want to make me dinner?”

“Whatever you want, I’ll make it.”

“Surprise me.” she turned her head to place a kiss on the center of my palm.

My smile was so broad that it was starting to hurt my cheeks. “You got it.”

Nadya’s eyes brightened even more with my promise. “Then it’s a date.”

#ocs #original characters #original story #original writing #My writing #they gay n cute n dumb #thats all I have to say for myself #one last holiday surprise from me to you #also yes I do recognize the whiplash of posting smut and then posting this beginning of relationship #I have no sense of chronological order #no rules just GAY #and yes I will write and post their first date #also FINALLY featuring Jayde's bike #thats like one of the most important objects to her so idk why it took me so long to write about it #I need to put more of it in my writing #my ocs #Jayde #Nadya #Jayde pov

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r-ahh-mi · 5 years

Text

He // Chapter 1

Prompt II Chapter 2

Rami Malek x OC(Beth)

A/N: Here is the first official chapter of ‘He’ which is going to be a Rami Malek x OC fic. I have included the links above to two other pieces of writing that go along with this story line - read them if you feel so inclined to do so, which i highly recommend so you can know a bit about the direction this story is taking. Also, although some portions of this fic will depict things that actually happened, the timeline will not be the same as the original time the events took place. Lastly, there will be some flashbacks all through out this story, so the dashes symbolize the beginning and end of flashback. Hope you enjoy & I would adore your feedback xx

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3k

I’ll start off by saying that I don’t blame him..at least not entirely. I understand he was simply going after his dream and he had to make sacrifices in doing that - truly, I get it. However, no matter how much I can understand where he was coming from, it still hurts. It hurts that he sent a simple text–no, he had his assistant text me to tell me that me and him could no longer be together. So many fucking years together and he can’t even muster up enough balls to tell me that he doesn’t want me anymore, that he doesn’t love me anymore. It was terribly out of character for him, which only made this worse. Rami was never one to do a thing as shady and unpredictable as that.

People always say you see ‘red flags’ or early signs of a disaster about to strike, but that wasn’t the case with us. We were fine, better than fine, we were amazing. We talked about getting married, having children, where we would want to live when it came time to settle down and enjoy life. Never, ever did it occur to me that Rami would abruptly break up with me when he was away filming the movie that would crank his stardom from a average number to being one of the top male actors in the business.

I stood by him when he was no one to everyone, except to me. To me he was everything. Fuck, he still is my everything.

I guess that’s why I haven’t even thought about anyone romantically since he broke things off. It was the furthest thing from my mind to capture anothers heart like I had thought i’d captured his and, although, I knew at one point he loved me like I loved him, he just didn’t love me anymore. Well…I guess now I wasn’t so sure.

See, Rami was one to fall head first into a relationship and that’s something I could admire him for. He was never really afraid to show someone his heart and who he was; never ever bashful in expressing his feelings and when he knew he loved me he told me right away, without hesitation, despite my own apprehensions about it all. He let me take my time and gradually, my heavy stone wall was broken by this boy who had stumbled into the wrong dorm room one fateful Saturday night after he got drunk off of cheap beer.

I was so annoyed when he had loudly barged into my room and plopped down directly on top of my once sleeping form, now I couldn’t be more grateful that he had accidentally gone to the wrong floor of that old stuffy dormitory. We were crazy back then, we really were. I felt so fearless and he was the one who made me feel that way, which was both scary and intriguing that another could make me feel such a way about life when I was anything but carefree, but with Rami, it was easy. Except now things were different. Everything was the opposite of easy; everything was complicated, really, really complicated.

Of course, I could only really speak on my experience of being apart from him and pretending he never existed and that we never existed. I remember how hard it was to not call him whenever I needed someone, he was always the person that I went to with any issue I had, but not anymore….well, except for last night. My head was still dizzy and tired and at times I was entirely positive I was making the entire evening, of him phoning me, up. However, a quick glance through my recent received texts was convincing, and if that wasn’t enough, my call history was sure to smash it into my brain that it happened.

I’m sure you’re wondering what the call was about and even i’m not entirely sure. It was full of sleepy Rami voice which I had missed dearly, but even more importantly I could hear him crying. That hurt, it really fucking hurt, especially knowing that I wasn’t there to give him whatever he was needing in that very moment, but I had to remind myself that I would have been right next to him had it not been for his actions and his wishes. So, guilt was quickly evaded from my memory and worry soon began to take over and it would never leave, i still felt it right this very moment.

He was vague. Extremely vague to me as he expressed his need to just see me. Even now, a mere night’s worth of sleep, and my pulse was speeding up just thinking about him wanting to see me again. It was just too shocking to process and I wasn’t even sure if I had answered him or not, but all I knew is that he texted me my plane ticket information early this morning, that I suppose he had booked last night and now I was in some over priced Uber to JFK airport headed for LAX.

The shaking was bad, the anxiety was even worse, and I had no clue why I had let myself agree to this (if i even had because, again, i don’t recall a lot of what i said during the conversation), but yet I wasn’t protesting to my driver to pull over. Not to mention, I never once thought about just ignoring the plane ticket purchased and letting that be my revenge for him breaking my heart the way he did.

In fact, I’m scolding myself this very moment for not even letting that thought cross my mind earlier..that would’ve made everything so much easier..I could’ve just continued on working my job and eating the same take out twice a week and running around the same park every morning and wallowing around in self pity on the weekend when I wasn’t attempting to be social with my friends.

Who was I kidding, it wouldn’t have been the same. The second I answered his phone call I knew that I wouldn’t be okay, at least not fully and when i chose to date him, I knew I was letting in this incredible human being that would forever leave a lasting impression on me, I just didn’t know, way back then, that that impression may not have been the kindest to my heart no matter how much I wanted the thought of ‘us’ to be a good thing in my mind. Again, he made that decision though, not me..so I shouldn’t feel any blame for it.

Funny how we repeat things to ourselves in order for them to sink into our brains isn’t it? Not like it ever truly works anyways.

I’d never experienced a plane ride quite like that. The couple of hours it took for me to get from one part of the country to the next felt as though a full twenty-four hours had gone by and I wasn’t sure what I was more tired of; physical exhaustion or mental exhaustion. My leg was still twitching, i’m going to assume, because of the hours upon hours it had been bouncing up and down due to the constant stream of anxiety that was running like a current through my body. Not to mention, my nausea due to my motion sickness that never failed to pop up every time the plane landed.

However, despite the numbness in my leg and the frazzled shock coursing through my blood, I kept persisting as if my life depended on it as I walked through the familiar airport. The smell of the various food vendors and even the plainly colored walls and floors all made me smile and think back to the various trips I had made here to visit Rami before we both decided to move to LA together once we had both graduated college so many years ago.

So much money was spent on me going to see Rami at least once a month, but I never dreaded it. In fact, I much preferred California to my small hometown in Indiana, so I didn’t mind flying out to see him, especially if it meant him getting to show me everything he grew up seeing and doing and loving. Not to mention me and his family had gotten very close since my first visit, Christmas my sophomore year of college, when me and Rami were just friends. California started to feel more like a home to me more than shitty Indiana ever did, which is why I never hesitated when Rami brought up the thought of us potentially moving in with one another in LA.

- -

“So I was thinking..”

“Spit it out Rami, you’ve only repeated that exact phrase three times now.”

As I balanced the phone between my shoulder and cheek, I couldn’t help but hope he was finally asking me the words i’d been dying to hear. After a year of not living near each other, I was half tempted to move myself out to LA all on my own and surprise him. Our relationship was an open one and I was positive he wouldn’t have minded that I moved both to be near him and to further my career as an actress. Lord knows Indiana wasn’t doing me any favors in either of those departments.

“...I was thinking..that you should move out here.”

I couldn’t help but sigh happily at his confession, “You know I would love that.”

“Then why haven’t you moved here yet? Do you enjoy making me suffer and have to live with only having contact with you from a phone.”

“Hey! I fly out as often as my paycheck allows it.”

“I know baby..”, His voice was so tender and thoughtful, it made me feel a little less obsessive as I had already started throwing a few of my belongings into a suitcase.

“So, when should I plan to leave?”

It was silent for a moment until Rami suggested me coming down to visit so we could both look at apartments together, just to ensure this was 1000% something that we both were prepared and wanting to do. Although, I already knew I was ready. Honestly, I never even needed to go see the semi-shitty apartment we were about to live in for the next 5 years because I would move anywhere and live anywhere as long as it meant I could be near him.

You could definitely say I was whipped and i’d proudly admit that.

- -

Suddenly, the airport began to seem terribly overcrowded with both people coming and going and I knew I had to be close to where Rami had told me to look for the driver.

I obeyed every single one of Rami’s requests - off the plane, head for a selected Terminal, and then look for a man holding a sign with his last name on it near the main exit doors.

I still wasn’t adjusted to the fact that Rami had afforded a plane ticket and a driver just for me. Not too mention my plane ticket was one of 1st class, not an easily afforded privilege for someone like me, but I had to remember, Rami wasn’t the Rami I knew anymore. He was Rami Malek, a multiple award winning actor; something I was both proud and jealous of, I had to admit, but I saw this coming. In college, there was no denying the talent I saw the very first I watched him give a monologue in front of our class. Everyone in the auditorium styled classroom had goosebumps, I was positive, and we all saw him as competition, except for me.

Of course, down the road we both engaged in some slight competition with who could get the best roles in plays and who would get the best acting gig right outside of college, but when I first witnessed his acting capabilities, I was more curious than anything. Curious to get to know him and speak with him; just to pick at his brain sounded terribly ideal to me and engaging in a some other activities didn’t sound half bad either..

My shoulder suddenly collided with someone, much to my surprise, dragging me from my trip down memory lane to staring at the man in front of me wearing aviator sunglasses and holding a white board in his hand. I examined the man to make sure he was alright, that is until I saw the words ‘Malek’ scribbled on the object in his hands.

Just seeing his last name written out gave me a pitiful feeling in my stomach and I wasn’t able to blame it on the motion sickness now that my feet were firmly planted on the ground.

“Uhm..are you the driver for Malek?”

My mouth stuttered slightly as I spoke his last name, proving saying anything relatively close to his full name would be difficult. I’ll need to make a mental note of that later before I embarrass myself any more than I already have...

The mystery man gave me a brief nod, “Are you Mrs. Malek?”

I must’ve looked like a purely insane individual as I just stared at him, dough eyed and trying to maintain brain function as my stutters returned.

“I--I’m not--No you see we are not--”

“Or are you just another one of his girls?”

And with a snap of invisible fingers, my mood shifted from frazzled to angered, but I shouldn’t have been shocked, I really shouldn’t have been. Rami was no longer the baby faced young man I grew to love, he was a much older, much more matured male who had grown out of his baby weight and into a muscular, beautifully structured bachelor that, i’m sure, every woman in Hollywood was dying to fall for, or rather get on their knee’s for.

“I’m definitely not one of his girls”, I retorted with possibly too much annoyance as the driver silently turned around and began walking towards the exit. Supposing I was meant to follow him, I got hot on his heels as he led the way out of the large main double doors.

No turning back now.

Tag List: @frami-mercury-malek @hazeleyedbeth @sassystrawberryk @amcquivey @cleopatra-knowles @lovelymalekk @mezzomercury

If you’d like to be added to the tag list for this serious, or to be on my permanent tag list, let me know and I will gladly add you xx

#rami malek #rami malek fic #rami malek x oc #rami malek reader #rami malek x reader #rami malek hc #rami malek imagine #rami malek fan ficition #borhap #the pacific #mr robot #busters mal heart #queen

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