#with depression fatigue it can be good to push through and do things anyways

[tytonidyke]

So many things I want to do and make but my body feels like it’s made of lead.. I got up and ate and took my pills and brushed my teeth and that’s about all I can manage right now. Back to bed. I hate feeling like I’m missing out on life.

[plenilune]

what a weird year it's been! this time last year I remember being so high on not wanting to die for the first time in years that I was ecstatic to greet 2023 and find out what I could do in it -- I don't feel that way this year, buffetted about by circumstance and my stupid human body and brain, but I don't feel defeated. I feel like I made a good first pass at a piece of work and now I'm going to take a hack at another draft. I made some good ground. not all the ground I was hoping to make, but a lot I wasn't expecting. I feel good about my ability to keep building a life and a self I can be more and more joyful to occupy.

I tried a lot of new things and some of them didn't work but most of them did. I said yes to a lot of weird shit. I had so many experiences this year. I'm glad I spent a night dancing and smoking on the fire escape outside a masonic lodge and being absolutely drenched in rain. I'm glad Corey and I went on a gorgeous queer group ride with a bunch of other queer cyclists through the streets of our favourite parts of northern Kentucky and then bicycled back home together. I'm glad I had a not-quite-one-night stand and bused home as the sun rose golden and alive and lovely. I'm glad I re-learned the importance of dancing at clubs until I can barely move. I'm glad I saw Oldboy in the cinema and was so adrenalised that I jumped up and down on the sidewalk and screamed waiting for my bus home. I started painting back patches and sewing things onto my clothing and making jewellery and collaging and cropping all my tshirts and sweaters.

I started writing again .god, I started writing again.

and I broke my phone, my glasses, and my computer and struggled financially and took a nightmarish disaster trip to Philadelphia for my grandmother's funeral and I lost access to meds for reasons that were completely my own fault and thus sunk into a mire of depression and fatigue for several months that could have been completely avoided. I struggled to connect to people and struggled to feed myself and been a goddamn wreck. I didn't really accomplish most of the things I thought I was going to, that I started with eagerness and energy at the beginning of the year.

but hell. I built some shit. now I can keep building on top of it. I feel like a completely different person sometimes now, with different possibilities. I fucked up and lost and careened into walls of bad luck over and over this year but I feel better for and about it than I have in a long time. okay, that's new muscles. okay okay okay. new page, new draft, we can go again.

anyway. this year I want to push forward more deliberately on some of the stuff I found out I could do this year -- obviously I am continuing to work on my goddamn space heist book, but also specifically pursue block printing, drag/burlesque, bass, and making zines in 2024 instead of just experimenting with them. bicycle more, cook more, invest in people more, Not Go Off My Meds At Any Point, play more video games, watch more films. (I watched over sixty this year! after barely watching films for so long I didn't know what my own taste was any more, and feeling the shame and confusion of having once been a kid who wanted to go to film school but didn't know what movies they liked any more.)

anyway. here's to all of you who have kept me alive and interested in the world this year. my beloved partner is making arriabbiata and playing jazz in the next room. I have to work first thing tomorrow but tonight I'm going to finish the first season of Better Call Saul and poke at my novel and the day after tomorrow I'm going to have tea and listen to music and sew patches onto my jacket and best flannel. I'm going to keep finding new things to be alive for. I'm going to create a self I want to live inside. I'm excited to know what things are going to happen to me in 2024. I'm excited to learn about new ways to feel joy.

goodnight, 2023. you were a mess and I loved you more often than I didn't.

[gabapentinblues]

journal update 6.7.2025

i slept better last night but now that im awake i feel terrible. my stomach is so messed up and my vertigo is so bad. i can barely move around. i havent told anyone i went off my meds and idk if im going to. i havent been able to find a new psych and i just really dont want to bother. im done. i want to know what life is like without medication.

ive been on meds my entire adult life and im just tired of it. i dont know how much good they've actually done me. going cold turkey on zoloft after being on it for over a decade is a bad idea i know, but i just dont care. i just want to push through it and see whats on the other side. my other two meds are relatively new, wasn't on either of them for a year even so im not as worried about those. but i do feel fatigue and irritability and suicidal ideation, vertigo, nausea, confusion, nearly everything that could be going wrong i think.

it doesnt help that im also in the middle of my pmdd rn, so i would be exhausted and suicidal and irritable anyway. my boobs hurt so bad and i just dont want to be in my body. i just want to pass the day hiding in my bedroom and i probably will. myabe i'll tidy up if i have it in me. i feel less emotionally debilitated but i still feel total anhedonia and disintrest in living. but i might be able to do something today bc im not going to off myself tonight even if i want to.

im just going to keep living like that i guess. wanting to die and putting it off and ig people will be glad im making that decision but i dont feel strong or brave. continuing to live is just the path of least resistance. i dont really want to be on it, but its where i am, and its easier to stay here than change it even if it feels physically unbearable sometimes. which it really does.

i went to sleep easier last night. probably bc i drank a double gin and tonic and it was really strong for me, i could only handle having the one or else i probably wouldnt have even been able to walk straight. but i was able to go to bed and sleep without crying myself to sleep or texting my friend in a complete crisis. i still dont want to live. i more just feel empty today though which is easier to manage.

yesterday i followed up on the two jobs im trying to get so i dont need to do anything else today really. i can just hide in my room. idk what anyone else is up to but i'll probably just stay out of their way. the weekends are hard with everyone being around. my friends are like an hour away, and i dont really feel up for seeing anyone anyway. im more comfortable here in my own bed.

maybe i'll listen to the song we wrote last week and try to write some lyrics for it. ive been really stuck w coming up w melodies and ive just been avoiding it, but actually trying is something i could do. and clean up a bit, maybe even do laundry. i could also work on my sketchbook, or one of my larger paintings. and i could even write if i really feel like it, my depression brain has been making me avoid that too. in april i wrote every single day and i just dont have that motivation anymore, but i want to cultivate something.

i should wash my face and brush my teeth and kind of get dressed. maybe i'll spend a little time outside. im not feeling totally defeated today, but my body is really going to limit what's possible i can tell.

tomorrow will probably be fine too, i'll mostly just do my own thing, dont think i'll go anywhere, im trying not to spend any money. getting a job will be good if only for that reason, i feel guilty running through my savings account. i have the least amount of money i've ever had in my adult life. i feel like im completely starting over.

i still dont even understand how everything fell apart. i made a huge decision to move and it totally backfired and blew up in my face and left me completely devastated and debilitated and diagnosed with bpd. i still dont even know if thats true. i do think it could be, but i also dont care about getting treatment for it bc i've lived my whole life up until now this way and i dont really feel understood or supported by any mental health professionals. i feel better off without them honestly, after the thousands of dollars i owe to the clinic that didn't even help me. everyone is imperfect, no one actually has the answers and i'd rather just figure out how to live on my own.

i thought about doing another iop but the resources in my hometown really arent that great. im going to just keep getting by half dead half alive, waiting for my suicidal thoughts to win and doing the best i can until they do. i have no greater aspirations, im not going to hope for more. this existence, pathetic as it may be, is all i have. i dont care about a career or becoming anything or achieving anything, im just going to live paycheck to paycheck until i cant make it anymore. i'll experience what i can and try to be good to people but i dont even have high hopes for having close relationships when i feel like this. i dont trust myself to be able to be a good partner or best friend to anyone. im going to keep myself on the fringes. maybe thats selfish and cowardly but so what.

i told myself im going to let myself start cutting again if i feel like i need to and just always keep my upper thighs covered. i think thats fine. its fine if i never fully recover or give it up. i might fall back into my eating disorder. having control is so difficult though, my binge eating has been winning, i could maybe see that changing though.

i feel like my perspective on a lit of things has changed since all of this has happened and i just want to keep everyone at arms length.

maybe i'll reach out to my few other friends this summer. ive decided to give up completely on my used to be best friend. its so obvious that if she wanted to talk to be she would and she literally doesnt and im tired of being hurt by that. im not wishing anything negative im not desperately clinging to the past, we just dont know each other anymore, and that was her decision. i have no idea how she sees it, but again that's kind of on her bc she could literally talk to me and she doesn't. ive reached out a handful of times since ive been back and tried to make plans and she leaves me hanging and im just done with it. im not angry im just done with it.

i feel like ive changed a lot. im not hopeful. im unenthusiastic. life doesnt hold the magic that it used to. i feel disconnected from most things. no one understands what im reckoning with just to stay here. its taking everything in me to not fall apart completely. life has no greater meaning to me, im just here until im not anymore and im not hoping for anything better than that. maybe i'll get to travel more and have fun experiences, but maybe i wont. im not owed anything.

i dont know how else to explain it. im never getting married, im never having kids, im never creating a legacy, im never going to have a fulfilling career or a stable financial situation. maybe one day i'll be able to live on my own again, but im not even counting on that. i feel alienated from my family and all my friends are cirumstantial. theres nothing special or meaningful connecting me to anyone. im just here until im not anymore. theres nothing special about it.

monday i get to be alone all day and that will be nice. im looking forward to it, though im not sure what i'll do. it's always a relief to be alone and to get to move at my pace and do what i want to do and not worry about being in anyones way.

tuesday i might see friends. my two friends who are dating want to see me and i might sleep over. maybe we'll have a sexy sleepover idk. we've been messing around, but i don't really feel anything about it and im worried they both have stronger feelings for me than i have especially since one of them is my ex. idk im just going to let it be whatever. we'll see how much like shit i feel and if i feel up to planning something.

i used to care so much about recovery mindset and its crazy how much i just literally dont anymore. im not exactly sure what changed. its probably just how persistent my suicidal thoughts have been. im just looking at all the stuff i have up on my wall from my last iop, and how my old therapist wanted me to reach out to her, and they all talked me up to going to get an art therapy degree and now im just like lol no. i dont have anything to say to my old therapist, i dont know if i'll ever reach out to her and i dont know how long she will care.

anyway yeah that basically just how ive been feeling. its summer and im completely empty inside and i dont have any hopes or expectations. life is just going to keep happening and i feel like complete shit and im done fighting it. im just someone who feels this way. i dont have any plans to improve myself. i was thinking i wanted to go to the gym again, but right now i kind of dont care about it at all. and i cant afford it. maybe things will change if i get a job again.

how hilarious would it be if i never work again and never move out of my parents house and just die one day. that could happen.

anyway today should be fine, tomorrow will hopefully also be fine, and monday will be good. maybe i'll work on art, write lyrics, talk to my friends. maybe tuesday i'll see my friends. and hopefully my withdrawls get better.

[underwhelmingalchemist]

Vent below the cut. Contains discussions of disability, mental illness, lack of productivity, and guilt

I know I need time to recover, but I feel so fucking guilty for checking out rn when my gf is pushing through so much to take care of the house constantly. She's pushing through depression and chronic pain and mental illness and so many other challenges in order to keep things clean and running smoothly while my mom is incapacitated, and I'm just lying in bed making collages in PowerPoint and telling people I need time to check out. Like yes, my body is giving out, but so is hers, and she does what she needs to anyway. She's constantly fighting an uphill battle to do absolutely anything and is still crazy organized and productive and helpful, and I'm like "I came home from work early because I don't feel good :(".

The worst part is that I know she resents me for it. She claims she doesn't, but there was one time she got upset with me and angrily laid out how little I do, even though I had told her about how awful I feel about my lack of ability to be productive and my challenges to do so in the past. Her demeanor when I can't push through it like her is... different than it always is. Cold and pissy.

You know how they say that drunk sayings are sober thoughts? I think the same goes with anger. She was being honest instead of repressing what she felt, and I know now that that's always what's being pushed down below the surface.

And the worst part is that my inability to do anything is all in my head. It's a weird concoction of brain chemicals that fatigue and paralyze me, but don't show anything on the outside. I can be deeply struggling, and it still just looks like me being lazy in bed on my phone. It looks like I have no excuse, because I'm physically abled (mostly)

In the past, while I was scared that nobody believed me about my limitations, I thought she believed and understood me. And now that I know I'm wrong, I can't get it out of my head whenever I'm struggling. And I feel so goddamn awful about what I can't do, and feel even worse knowing how much she resents it and what she really thinks of it all

She claims she understands. She claims she doesn't mind. But the one time she shared her true feelings overwrites all of it

I know that I need to take time to recover, or my mind and body will only get worse, but I feel so goddamn guilty knowing how much everyone around me resents me for it and how much I'm letting the people around me down by resting

I think the worst part is that I get it. I know how frustrating I am, I know how useless I am when it comes to performing basic life maintenance tasks, and know how much of a burden it puts on the people around me who usually have it much worse than I do. But I don't know how to change it. I don't think I can.

I just need some time to rest

It hurts

[eeblouissant]

Goodmorning !!!!! headcanons time :^)

Starting with miss Dorothy because she has the most (simply because of her pre-existing health issues & Sophia dying - had she not she probs wouldn't):

Dorothy aged overnight after Sophia died; mostly due to her chronic fatigue syndrome flaring up & kind of just, never seeming to come down. She struggled with finding the energy to speak, (& exist, really) for almost two years after her death. This depressive episode & chronic illness flare up was by far the most painful experience she's ever gone through - & a very close call. She was so convinced she'd be unable to go on without her Ma that her body began to believe it too. Coupled with her advancing age nearly lead to the worst, & landed her in the hospital to be monitored for a number of weeks.

She became extremely frail; becoming noticeably pale, thinning & losing hair, losing weight, & the ability to walk without an aid. These things became better but never went away, & neither did how much more intense CFS had become for her. You have to be so patient with her; she moves & exists a few paces behind everyone else, but she's still Dorothy after that storm passes.

She wears Sophia's glasses on an extended chain around her neck. The same chain Sophia kept them on - when she had the chain extended she watched over the whole process like a hawk (unable to do it on her own, which is what she would have preferred, and she had tried - but her hands would shake so much that it just ended in tears & a fit of frustration). So no, she doesn't need glasses now, I just loved the angst & implications attached B’) )

At home she should be using a wheelchair, because she had been told by numerous doctors that she absolutely should be using one anyway (more than just at home) - But she struggles to accept how bad this has gotten for her, & can get quite irritated when people remind her. So, even though it feels miserable to walk for windows of time, she settled for a cane. Something she can lean on. At home Blanche & Rose help ease her into using the aid she actually needs, and Dorothy eventually becomes okay with letting them see her sick. They remind her constantly that it's nothing to be ashamed of if it's helping her exist.(And also because they're slightlyyyyy terrified that she'll push herself too far one day & become unable to exist at all without it, simply because they fear the depressive episode it would likely send Dorothy into. She doesn't deserve to lose more than she already had)

On a lighter note: she's really taken to the 1920s vibe. Loose flow-y clothes are easy to get around in & easy to get on & off with little work! Dorothy is also the only one out of the three that accepts the physical (appearance) changes that come with this stage of aging. She's kind of the advocator; when Blanche (especially Blanche) or Rose start to spiral, she pulls them in & reminds them just how beautiful they are now, & how beautiful they have always been. The words "aging is a privilege" have been heard many, many, manyyyy times.

Oh, & her voice got significantly deeper. It seems to just continue doing that; Blanche & Rose adore it. Dorothy is indifferent. (She also talks slower, she misses opportunities to throw sarcasm & playful insults at the girls because the speed of her thoughts just don't match the speed she moves. It gets very frustrating. She has good & bad days with it, Blanche and Rose have learned to wait up for her. She’s also loud — her hearing loss progresses & shows no signs of slowing down.)

Blanche is next - lots of these headcanons mostly revolve around her physical appearance, mental health, & reactions to aging, because I think she's actually the (physically) healthiest of the three.

Deep down she is terrified of aging; terrified of death. Her vanity goes further & has a much deeper meaning than she might make it seem.

This is the root cause of her obsession with appearance at this stage in her life. She's seen what death does, how it completely changes the lives and habits of people & loved ones - herself included. First her George, then her parents, & now Dorothy. She's got a case of anticipatory guilt if you will; really she's the most selfless person in a room, but she masks it well. she fears being vulnerable will open her up to acceptance. She will never accept the eventuality of her own death, & what it might do to her girls (should she pass before them)

She continues with beauty rituals that may have worked for her twenty years ago, but only age her prematurely now. Sun tanning & a lengthy face & skincare routine are not things that are very beneficial to her anymore, but she refuses to change her routine; she's a little stuck in the 80s. She is discovering that there are things that will begin happening that she can't do anything about, & the biggest has been how thin her hair begins to become. It comes on slowly, & it reminds her of her mother. She never thought it'd be something she'd have to deal with, so she never thought twice about when she'd see her mother near the end of her life with noticeably thin hair; compared to what she remembered in childhood. She wears scarves & headbands to cover the spots that are especially bad, & has stopped dying her hair (out of fear the dye will cause it to fall out faster).

She does not experience the memory issues & that awful disease that her mother suffered - she is eternally grateful. However, watching her brother & sister deteriorate takes a massive toll on her. Virginia refuses to see her, because she can't remember her (why would she want some stranger around? Having Blanche around agitates her very quickly, & not knowing why just makes it worse) & Clayton can only remember her. It devastates his husband, & created a divide between Blanche & her brother in law. Blanche visits him once a week, normally accompanied by Rose (the drive home always ends in tears, it would be unsafe for Blanche to drive. Every week she goes on the same ramble about watching her family disappear - Rose can't barely handle it)

She spends all of her time with Rose & Dorothy, because of all the people & things in the world only they bring her true peace. If she’s gotten anything positive out of this experience it’s becoming significantly less materialistic - she couldn’t care less about material things anymore. Her girls are her world, & she wouldn’t change that for anything. (On this — she never mellowed the way people talk about “mellowing in my old age” - she’s still got all the energy she had twenty years ago. It’ll take a lot more than a few years to shake Blanche Devereaux!)

Rose ….. oh Rose I love you.

In terms of health, on a scale from Dorothy to Blanche - she’s exactly in the middle. Something that worries her is how little she knows about her biological family: she doesn’t know how she’ll age. The aging process has been a gamble for her, and there have been more than a few occasions where Dorothy & Blanche have had to talk her out of panicking about all the possibilities. This has been her biggest struggle in aging.

Physically, she ages “the most noticeably” compared to Dorothy & Blanche. She has sharper/wider features (face & nose shape, body type, etc) & so she ages differently than them. She gains healthy weight, & has a few more wrinkles around her face & on her neck, + many many new spots & beauty marks (that her wives shower with kisses!!!). The Girls are shocked at how poorly she takes the process - they had never seen Rose so caught up in vanity before, but she actually always has been! This is hinted at in canon constantly and I think it’s really interesting for her. Where she normally seems a little ditzy & one step behind, she’s actually very aware of her physical appearance & when others comment on it. Like when Blanche offered to share her true & accurate age if Rose shared her weight - they both lied!! It’s not often that Rose isn’t truthful (she’s also just very bad at lying) so I had to include this here.

Otherwise, honestly, I don’t think Rose changes much. She does move away from her house dresses & the like - I think she lives in sweaters & skirts & comfy pjs. She continues to dye her hair too - she’ll never accept the gray. She struggles with a bit of chronic aches & pains in her back & hands (hands especially - thinking arthritis. It just kills her some days) but she has no signs of memory issues or other illnesses that come with aging. She’s also the only of the three that still drives constantly! She has the best eyes & ears of the three. (She’s best fit to still be driving, basically. Not that Blanche absolutely can’t - but she doesn’t much anymore with becoming a bit of a hermit. & Dorothy absolutely cannot get behind the wheel anymore.)

Bonus, for added angst: Sophia’s cause of death was a second stroke. She lived into her early nineties & passed in her sleep. Her last words were ‘goodnight, pussycat.’

(No, Dorothy did not find her, that’s too much angst even for me — Rose did. & she hesitated to tell Dorothy for a few hours because she had woken up so peacefully that morning. ((the last time she’d wake up that way for a very, very long time… Rose had a feeling about it)). Rose sat with Sophia for a while I think, just talked to her. Asked & prayed for ‘how will I ever tell Dorothy about this’)

Not sure if you're taking requests. I love seeing your Golden girls art so much and I wonder what your take of older Golden Wives, (like 10-15 years post series) would be? Please and thank you, no pressure of course 😊

hiiii i hope you don’t mind me responding to this insanely fast but omg I was so obsessed with this idea I just had to … gonna reblog with an essays worth of headcanons in the morning but for now pick out what you will :D

(Also — requests are always open!!!! You have no idea how much I love them aaaaa /gen!!!!)

[thebibliosphere]

Hello Joy! Long time follower and I really enjoy your blog. I just wanted to hope into your asks bc i've had a very frustrating day of doctors appointments and even if you don't have any advice, i was just hoping to rant to someone who'd been around the block with elusive medical illnesses (though please dont feel obligated to respond to this at all), and i apologize in advance for an almost certain lack of coherence.

I've been dealing with quite a lot of doctors appointments over the years, from treating insomnia, my adhd, and depression and anxiety, but long story short we have discovered 2 years ago that I have low b12. I have also been dealing with a chronic cough for 2.5 years. Unfortunately, oral supplements did not work for the b12 and i had to get monthly injections, which stopped when the pandemic hit and, despite doing for 4 months, didnt bring my levels up to normal anyway.

I recently restarted the injections, but my doctor will not approve my request to have more frequent injections, which i think i need, because its not fatally low (its at a 170 based on recent bloodwork). I finally saw a respirologist for my cough, and she has no idea what the cause of it is, even suggested that its psychsomatic, and put me on a different inhaler that i tried before (ive tried a million treatments for it, from post nasal drip meds to ppis for acid reflux to allergy meds, and the inhaler is the only thing that helped a little).

I've gained 20-25 pounds in the past 2 months, when ive been the same weight since i was a teenager (im 22), but my bloodwork continuously come back normal for everything but b12 and vitamin d, so my doctor also has no explanation for that (including normal tsh, and the last time i brought up testing other thyroid factors the doctor told me they dont do that and honestly made me feel silly for asking. Though, granted, my current doctor is a different one). I'm going insane because of how tired i am all the time, and the fact that I feel like a hypochondriac bc all my tests are always normal, and my doctor is only available for appointment once a month.

Sorry for the long block of text, i just feel, when looking at your blog, a sense of hope that eventually i'll have answers and you're just really great. ❤ i hope you had a really good day today ❤

Get a new doctor! Get a new doctor right now!

When you dip below 250 is when you can start to experience chronic fatigue, mood disorders and worsening cognitive function.

170 is when you're on the cusp of things getting seriously bad and depending on your homocysteine levels can start to cause pain and nerve damage. This is also when my hematologist estimates I started to sustain prolonged damage to my nervous system. This was also when I started experiencing the symptoms of early onset dementia.

140 is when my iron and folate levels tanked suddenly and I was so symptomatic my (then) new doctor was worried I had cancer and rushed me through seeing seven specialists in a week. The same day as seeing the hematologist it dipped below 110 and I started hemolyzing and went into medical crisis as my kidneys and heart started to struggle. I owe that hematologist and his team my life.

The good news is the shots you are getting right now are keeping you stable, but your doctor should NOT be waiting for your levels to hit crisis mode to resolve this issue. Please do not give up on this, you deserve better treatment.

Also, what kind of supplements are you taking?

I don't absorb Cyanocobalamin well through my gut, which is the most common type of oral supplement prescribed. What I do absorb through the gut is Methylcobalamin, so if you haven't tried that yet, it might be worth a shot to try and help you manage your levels on your own. Same with folic acid, I don't absorb it for shit, but when I switch to a methylfolate supplement, my numbers start to climb*. If you have tried this and it's been ineffective, then I'm going to emphasize that you need to push your doctor to increase your number of shots to get your levels up because what you are living with is not an acceptable quality of life, and I am so sorry :(

I hope you are able to rest and have better days in store soon. Take care, and if you want to talk about b12 or stuff, hit me up.

---

*Before anyone asks, yeah, I'm aware of the MTHFR gene mutation. I just can't test for it because the procedure is considered to be "investigational" and neither my geneticist nor my insurance wants to run it and I don't want to sell my data to a gene company lol.

[maplecornia]

chapter 30

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.85K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: another yoongles focus lol i just figured out that i really don't have much to say in these things anymore, i might save the a/n's for the end next time

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @pixiekooo | @canarystwin | @cana

This is not exactly how you expected to meet Min Yoongi.

His hand tightens around your wrist as he drags you through the halls of BigHit, and you silently pray that your small legs can keep up.

Looking up at him, you can't help but be a bit confused.

Why is he so angry anyway?

You didn't do anything to him.

Certainly nothing worth yanking your arms off.

Wincing as he turns a corner, your eyes widen as he opens a door and practically shoves you inside a dark room. You stumble a bit, an inner instinct inside of you resurfacing. You find yourself frantically looking for any form of exit, any form of a way out. When you find none, you swallow hard, feeling your hands palpitate with cold sweat and your breathing run short. Turning briskly to where Yoongi stands in front of the door, you step forward, ready to push past him and bolt before you’re hurt, but the look in his eyes stops you.

They’re soft, confused and slightly caught off guard. You wonder if the fear that prickles off of your skin is as evident to him as it is to you. Taking a deep breath, you swallow hard, trying hard not to show your discomfort. Inwardly, you chastise yourself for even considering that Min Yoongi would have any malicious intent towards you, but you can't help it when put into a situation like this...

Dark room.

Blocked exits.

No way of escape.

You can't help but be on your guard.

A bit confused, but choosing not to question it, Yoongi gestures towards a clothing rack to the left. Blinking, you turn towards it, begging yourself to relax. When he advances into the room, however, you flinch and frantically back up, straight into a tray of forgotten makeup and hair products.

He immediately stops at the reaction, and you downcast your eyes shamefully praying he doesn’t realize what you’ve tried so hard to cover up. However, as he takes in your frightened eyes, tense stance, and the shallow breath, he knows that somehow he has triggered a memory.

From the looks of it, even a form of trauma.

Definitely not what I expected.

Taking a deep breath, he turns on the light before turning to you with his hands up in a form of surrender. Almost a peace treaty. "Relax, I'm just trying to get a shirt for you."

You swallow hard, already feeling a bit better with the light on. Chuckling nervously, you straighten and nod, running your hand through your hair.

"O-of course you were. What else would you be doing?" you try to swallow the sudden rise of bile in your throat as you rub your arms violently to ease the chill your memories have brought you.

Yeah.

What else indeed.

Confused, but choosing to leave matters out of his hand alone, Yoongi returns to his task and rummages through the clothes dangling on the coat rack. Once he's found his prize, he turns to you and throws it towards you. Your eyes widening, you hardly catch it before he's already heading out of the door.

"Shirt." He explains bluntly, and you nod, a bit surprised that he used English. You smile inwardly at the sentiment, however. The small taste of home certainly helped you to regain your composure. You give a weak smile and tighten your grip around the shirt, hoping that it would be a better outlet to release the emotions bottled inside.

"Thank you." You murmur, and he nods before turning to leave.

He almost makes it out the door, but when he remembers something, he turns back to you.

"Do you know the way back?"

"Back...?" you mutter, a bit confused, and he rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to smile.

Looks like she's back to normal.

"To the dressing room, you're supposed to help us with the photo shoot today." Your eyes widen at his explanation, and you faintly remember your soiled schedule. Cursing under your breath, you wish you had at least taken a picture of the thing before heading to perform your duties. Maybe then you'd have a backup.

Well, guess that's a good thing to remember next time.

Realizing Yoongi is still waiting for a reply, you snap out of your reverie and smile.

"Oh, yes. I think I can manage." He nods before turning around and finally leaving you alone, the door closing with a few words of encouragement.

"Hurry up."

With that, the door is shut firmly behind him and you let out a small breath.

Well, no need to be so cold.

But then again, it was kind of him to offer you a shirt and not to pry when you had that slight panic attack. If you can even call it that. Sighing, you turn to the mirror and place your hands on the desk, staring deep into your hollow eyes.

It wasn't always this way.

There was a time when these eyes sparkled with life. When they were filled with joy and happiness, not a care in the world. Where you could smile without a weight on your heart dragging you down. Where you could live without feeling guilty of it.

Why do you feel guilty?

He deserved what he got.

He deserved to die for what he did to you.

“But still...he was my father.”

Biting your bottom lip, you hardly notice it as your teeth pierce through your skin and blood begins to trickle down your chin. Only when the taste of iron on your tongue pierces through do you realize. Flinching, you shakily wipe the blood away and lick your bottom lip as though that will erase the pain bound tightly to your heart.

No, nothing can erase this.

I don't think anything ever will.

Swallowing hard, you choose to forget that which is best not to be pondered over. Turning the shirt Yoongi found for you, you slowly unbutton your own, pulling it out of the plaid skirt you've garnered today. You're thankful Yoongi has managed to find you a similar shirt to the one you brought in today. A white button-up that reminds you of the 19th century. Something a high-class man would wear to a gala per se. You smirk at the ruffles at the end of your sleeves and try to avoid your reflection in the mirror as you pull it on over your bra.

The only thing you would see would be another daily dose of self-deprecation and hatred.

You'd rather stop before it started.

Once the shirt is buttoned and tucked safely in your skirt, a few small touches added by you in order to fit your look, you look at your reflection and smile faintly. For a man's shirt, it fits your frame quite snugly. You wonder who exactly it belongs to, but figure you could just ask Yoongi later.

This should do nicely.

Smiling weakly in satisfaction, you turn to the door and open it.

You weren't expecting to see a very fatigued Yoongi leaning against the wall right next to the entrance. So you'd say your reaction was justified.

He would probably think otherwise.

At your shriek, he jumps halfway out of the air before turning to you in surprise.

"What the hell was that?!" He cries, and your eyes widen in ignorance.

"Me?! What about you? I thought you were going back to the dressing room!"

"Well, I--" he breaks off, finding nothing to say, and you raise an eyebrow in confusion. Swallowing hard, he turns his face away from you. "You were taking too long."

Rolling your eyes, you scoff.

Sorry, but I didn't think I was on a time clock.

"Besides, I didn't trust you to get there on your own." He explains, turning back to you with a scowl. You narrow your eyes at him yourself before noticing the slight rosy hue to his cheeks.

Is he...embarrassed?

Clearing his throat, he shakes his head before brushing past you and heading back the way you came.

"Let's go."

You stand there in stunned silence before turning to his retreating figure. Smirking a bit to yourself, you scoff in disbelief before jogging to catch up to him. You want to thank him for his help, but as the two of you head back, you find it hard to start a conversation with him.

Biting the inside of your cheek you turn to him, trying to study his expression.

He definitely has some sort of hidden animosity towards you even though the two of you have never met before now. However, he doesn't seem to hate you. He's been kind to you so far. In his own...weird way. But if he doesn't hate you then what's the reason for his behavior? Sometimes he seems perfectly fine, and then others he seems to be incredibly angry by your presence.

Then again...your presence is sort of foreign to him.

Maybe he just needs time warming up?

"She's hardly qualified."

Or maybe...

He knows you don't belong here.

"Do you need something?"

Jolting back to reality, you blink and find Yoongi to be regarding you with a perplexed gaze. Quickly, you snatch your eyes away and laugh nervously. You hadn't realized you were gawking at him this whole time.

"No, it's nothing..."

His expression changes as soon as you look away, darkens into something nearly unrecognizable. Turning away, he swallows hard, as though holding himself back. You, however, find this as a perfect outlet to start a conversation.

"I was just...wondering...W-why are you doing the shoot here?"

He shrugs, trying to avoid your gaze as much as possible.

"It's more convenient this way. Does the shirt fit?"

"Hm? Oh! Uhm, yes it does. Thank you."

He nods in response.

"Good, that was Enhypen's dressing room. They hardly use it other than the times they visit our company for shoots and such. Sunoo has a smaller build than most in our company so I thought it'd work best for you." He examines the shirt on you, and you can't help but blush, half wondering if you should cover-up. "Hm. It's tight in some areas but definitely better than wearing something like Jimin's."

You blush profusely at the comment and cross your arms around your chest. You have half a mind to smack him right then and there, but as a group of employees pass by you, you're forced to hold back. He smirks in satisfaction at your reaction, and you scowl.

"I see...thank you." You mutter between gritted teeth. He doesn't respond, just continues to smile that smug smile. Turning the corner, you find yourself in another realm of silence, but this time you don't really have the urge to talk to him.

He on the other hand...

"Has BangPD talked to you yet?"

Your ears perk at that and you turn to him, shocked.

How did he...

"I'm sorry?"

"About being a trainee." He replies with that debonair air about him. Swallowing hard, it takes you a while to respond.

“How did you know?” He gives a look at the ambiguous answer, but you meet it as an equally indignant one. You feel as though you have a right to know, and you won’t answer him so easily about something you weren’t aware he even knew about. Sighing when it’s clear you won’t give in as easily as he thought, he answers you.

“BangPD met with us to discuss your training.”

“‘Us?’ You mean...”

“Yes, BTS. He said as shareholders of the company, it was only right for us to know he was considering training you. He wanted our opinion.”

In short, they were deciding your life before you even had a chance to decide.

You don’t know why, but the thought puts a sick feeling in your stomach. The fact that a group of people were discussing whether or not to trust you, to accept you without even half of them getting a chance to know you or your abilities...Who gave them the right to decide that? Who gave them the right to take control of your future?

And what if you say yes? Do they even want you to succeed? What if they do? What if saying no let down their expectations? Why weren’t you told about this? Why weren’t you a part of the conversation?

Was it really too much of a risk?

"So?" He prompts before pausing in front of an elevator door and pressing the up button to the dressing room. "What did you say?"

You give him a look, hoping that will let him know that you don't want to talk about this anymore, but he doesn't seem to care. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly and you find that even if you wanted to, you wouldn't know what to say.

Does he think that this is an easy decision? There are things to consider, your future to think about, people who could be affected...

But really, what is there to consider?

You don't have anything to lose, not really.

And this is your dream.

So why are you hesitating?

You know why.

At the soft ding of the elevator arriving, you break eye contact and turn as the doors open. Stepping inside, you watch the doors slide shut before answering him.

"He told me to think about it."

Yoongi scoffs at the answer, biting the inside of his cheek in annoyance. He knew it'd be like this.

"What's there to think about?" At the question, you flinch but refuse to meet his eyes. "It's a yes or no question."

You bite your lip furiously, at war with yourself.

It's not like he's wrong but...

Yoongi glances at her from the corner of his eye and wonders what exactly everyone sees in her. He wonders what makes her so special. From what he's seen, she's incredibly ordinary. Sure she has a beautiful voice, her face is nice, but she can stand to lose a few pounds especially if she wants to be an idol.

Does she even want to be a performer?

There are so many others who have tried their whole life just to be considered for what they're offering here, and what?

It's too hard of a decision?

Animosity growing like a drug, he scoffs turning away.

"I was against it, you know." You turn to him, a bit confused at the statement. He sighs before continuing, a bit piqued at your behavior. "Your contract. I didn't want you to be considered as a trainee."

You should feel surprised. You should feel wronged, angry. But you feel none of those things. Instead, you understand him.

Smiling a bit bitterly, you turn back to the metal doors.

"I see." You reply, and he turns to you in confusion.

"You're not mad?" You shrug before turning to him.

"Why would I be?" He scoffs at the reply.

"Most would feel offended."

"Well, I'm not. In fact, I'm grateful."

Surprised, he turns to you. "Why?"

"At least you didn't lie or cover it up." You explain matter of factly and he shakes his head at you in disbelief as the elevator dings, announcing your arrival.

"It would've been better if I had." He mutters half to himself as the two of you depart, bowing politely to a few employees waiting to board the elevator. You shrug at the statement before glancing his way.

"Well, maybe I don't like people who beat around the bush."

He can't help but feel a bit stunned as he watches you walk a few steps ahead of him. He can't help but feel that he'll always be a few steps behind you. Shaking the feeling away, he peers your way.

"Are you scared?"

"Of what?"

"Debuting."

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer. Biting your bottom lip in concentration you consider the question.

Are you scared to debut?

"Yes."

Who wouldn't be after all? It's scary not knowing if the public will view you positively or immediately cast you aside. It's scary not knowing whether or not your dream will be achieved, whether or not you'll make it.

"Is that why you're hesitating?"

Spying the dressing room a few feet away, you shake your head at his question before replying.

"No."

You can deal with that fear...but what you're even more afraid of is betrayal.

Like what happened last time.

Yoongi stares at you for a moment and watches as you get that faraway look in your eye, the same look that tells him you're not really here. When the two of you reach the dressing room once again, he can't help but pause a few feet away from you. He has the sudden urge just to look at you, maybe then he'd be able to understand.

"You're not what I thought you were." He mutters, not sure if you can hear him, but at your smile, he knows you never stopped listening. You smile at him over your shoulder.

"I guess I don't like beating around the bush either."

𝔞/𝔫: i feel like this offers a lot of background to yen's past...which may be revealed soon

chapter 31 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[shorkbrian]

Give in to Love

so I have several thots about this. Like with Kiri, he would be like, relieved you’re being submissive but then he’d become like super depressed that you aren’t like idk seeming to live in your body, like you’re just a husk and he’d get so worried and sad and pamper you with so much love.

Yeah so aside from Kiri, a yan that I imagine this type of scenario is with someone like Victor Nikiforov from YOI 

yes. This Bitch right here.

So first fucking off, he’s rich. Money is no problem for him.

Second off, he’s so confident that he would not hesitate to do whatever he wanted.

Third, he’s actually pretty kind (especially to pretty, vulnerable little things like you)

It’d probably start out with the man spilling coffee all over you or something SUPER cliche like that. 

(Warnings - not much. NSFW but only the teeniest tiniest bit. barely even a mention. but obvs Yandere, dub con, dark content.)

He’s in a rush, he was bursting out of the coffee-shop, you just so happened to be walking by and in the direct path of the door and so smacks into you, knocking you onto your butt.

Immediately, you’re being helped up by a silver haired man, he’s apologizing heavily, patting your clothes into place, smoothing your hair, steadying you onto your feet. He’s so sorry, he didn’t even see you! And then the man stops, looks at you, smiles blindingly and blurts out that you’re pretty.

You’re understandably stunned. but you quickly just brush it off, his accent is foreign, it’s probably just a cultural thing. 

Then he’s offering to buy you something to make up for him trying to give you a concussion, asking if you like coffee, sweets, maybe a sweater? You look cold.

And you’re just so tired, life is exhausting, you don’t really even care anymore what happens to you. You don’t protest as the man doesn’t wait for an answer, immediately grabbing your hand and marching you into the coffee shop he had just burst out of.

“Pick anything you’d like, my treat! An apology for not paying attention to such a beautiful thing.” He smiles, gesturing at the menu.

You study it for a second, but there’s too many choices, and it’d just be easier if you didn’t have to, and you’re so used to people telling you what to do and making decisions for you and you’re lost. Where do you even start?

After a few moments of silence, the man (who's been not-so-subtly watching you as you deliberate) speaks up. “Can I pick? I LOVE their raspberry cheesecake! So good!”

It sounds fine, and you’re somewhat relieved that he was going to choose, take the burden of responsibility off of your shoulders.

He buys one of the giant slices, ushers you to table, sits you down. The man watches you take a bite, his face lighting up and giving a little clap when you give a thumbs up. He has his own fork, and he takes bits and pieces here and there from the slice. While you eat, he talks.

His name is Victor, he’s from Russia, are you from around here? What’s your name? 

“That’s such a pretty name!” He says your name once, twice, rolling it around in his mouth like it’s something to savor. 

Victor is a ball of energy, confident, full of life. He’s frankly an intimidating man, with how attractive he is, the obviously expensive suit he wears, the way he dominates the conversation and expertly handles your awkward silences and uncomfortable pauses.

By the time you leave, he’s entered his number into your phone, quickly scrolling to find your own number (even though he was only supposed to put in his own - but you really didn’t care) and note it down.

You’re pretty sure he won’t actually be texting or calling you - he was just being polite, feigning interest in someone as boring and pathetic as yourself.

Lo-and-behold, that evening you get a notification that “Vitya! (:” has texted you.

Hello! Is your body feeling alright?

Immediately confused, you send out a reply

Who is this?

It’s Victor!!! From the coffeeshop, haha. 

Oh, hi (: your contact name says “Vitya” lol what a typo

Not a typo, I like it when pretty girls call me Vitya (;

Baffled, you don’t reply, and no further messages are exchanged.

A few days go by, Victor texts you on the fifth day, asking if you wouldn’t mind recommending some fun local activities. You have to apologize - you don’t get out much, you’re sure there’s info online though.

Victor asks why you don’t go out, you decide to be blunt and succinctly explain the fatigue, you’re anxious, this is your first time being out on your own and you’re so used to other people dictating your life that it feels uncomfortable and wrong to be able to make decisions. 

The man asks if you would go to that coffeeshop again with him. The switch of topic relieves you, but at the same time you’re frowning. You probably word-vomited all over him, complaining about your problems. 

For some reason, you agree.

He meets you at the coffeeshop again, this time not even bothering to ask what you’d like to order. Victor just gets a few cookies, leads you to a table and plops down, spreading them in front of the two of you 

“In case you don’t like one of them. And if you have allergies!”

You smile at his explanation.

Victor slowly becomes a constant in your life.

The texts turn into quick calls, inviting you places, begging you to come sit with him in the park, feed some pigeons. Go to the grocery store with him? He’s lonely, don’t make him go by himself!

Even if you refuse, you’re gently bullied into doing virtually everything he says. It’s not like you mind though, you’re used to it.

He starts showing up at your apartment, you aren’t even sure when you gave him your address, but now he invites himself inside.

The first time he had shown up, completely unannounced, you had protested only once before letting him in. You could tell he was scrutinizing your home, but what did it matter? Victor was wealthy, everything you owned seemed shabby and poor.

He came over most nights, sometimes bringing food, making you sit with him at your table and eat. Sometimes he brought a book, or his laptop, and quietly sat on your couch while you puttered around. He’d always get distracted from what he was reading though, chattering towards you about this or that or the other.

Victor was nice.

He made decisions for you, he made you eat, he quickly picked up on when you were too tired to function, when all you could do was collapse somewhere and fall asleep.

But Victor was also threatening.

If you tried refusing him too many times, or if you mentioned your coworker telling a funny joke (It’s not like he wasn’t funny, the joke was hilarious - Victor just didn’t seem to like it) Victor’s face would sour, eyebrows drawing low, a deep frown etched onto his face. HIs voice would take on a commanding tone, low, as if he was going to do something that neither of you would enjoy if he had to ask again. 

It was scary sometimes.

But he had invaded your life, and you had stood by and idly watched. It’s not like you had put up a fight. You didn’t even know why he hung around you so, with the way you were constantly tired, moving through life like a zombie, sad and sleepy all the time.

Months passed and like every other year of your life, you could barely remember them slipping by. When had Victor become so comfortable in your apartment? It made you uncomfortable, but you were used to discomfort.

It came to a head when you retreated to your room for a nap, body sore and fatigued from merely existing. Victor followed you, nagging about wearing something cooler, to drink some water, how he heard about this new thing recently-

He followed you into your bed.

Like it was normal. Crawling under the covers with you, still maintaining a respectful distance, still talking. You were so tired, you didn’t care about how it made you uncomfortable.

When you woke up, he was curled around you, holding you tight. When you shifted, he had perked up, peeking around your shoulder to see your face. He had been awake the whole time, just chilling.

It was weird.

You were too tired to fight it.

Victor started paying for too much.

Of course it started small, as everything concerning Victor did. Sweets, small little gifts, occasionally a week’s worth of groceries. 

Then it escalated. He was paying for your medications, for your therapies, for your health aids. He started trailing after you to doctor’s appointments, introducing himself as a concerned friend.

You knew this wasn’t good, wasn’t healthy. Something was wrong about this, but you just didn’t care. Something was always wrong, you were always being directed and pushed towards this or that. You just had to accept it.

Then Victor was paying your rent, buying you clothes (since when did friends buy each other underwear?) surprising you with bigger and more expensive gifts until you tried to put your foot down.

You had gotten a stern talking-to, treated like an ungrateful child. And maybe you were? Victor was doing so much for you, shouldn’t you just accept his care?

Victor suggested that you move into his house, since he practically lives at your little apartment anyways. 

“My place is so much cozier! I have a fireplace, I miss it! I want to spend time with you but we could hang out in a more-” He looked around at your apartment “-comfortable place?”

You tried to argue, you did. But it took one disapproving glance from Victor and you were subdued, meekly agreeing to do whatever he wanted.

He called your landlord to terminate your lease. He helped you pack your clothes (that he had bought) into boxes (that he had bought) and arranged for your furniture (that he had bought, always complaining that your couch was bad for his back) to be sold.

Once moving in with him, he got more and more affectionate.

Right from the start, you quickly realized that Victor was very tactile-oriented. He wasn’t shy about physical touch, always wanting to hold hands or giving super long hugs, or begging to cuddle. He didn’t think it was weird, so you tried not to think so either.

Now that you were in his house, his gigantic, expensive house, Victor became even more physical. He showered you with kisses on the cheek, pressed to your forehead, on your shoulder, your neck when he curled around you at night (because of course you slept in the same bed. Victor had just laughed when you asked where your bedroom was)

Eventually, he kissed you on the mouth.

You were surprised, but you didn’t fight it. Why would you?

A heartfelt confession followed - how he had fallen in love with you at first sight, and how every day he fell more and more in love with you. You were his everything, the light of his life, he would die for you.

Don’t you feel the same?

You did, because that’s what Victor wanted to hear.

So now the two of you were dating, sharing kisses and intimate touches and eventually sharing bodies, letting him touch you even though it made your flesh crawl, touching him because he asked you to.

He provided everything, it was simpler just to do what he asked, what he desired. You didn’t even really mind being told what to do, what to wear, what and when to eat - it gave you a sense of comfort, knowing that you didn’t have to make decisions for yourself like that.

Victor would take care of you.

Even when you didn’t want him to

After all, it was simply easier to give in to love

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Colours of Rain Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

This date is dedicated to anyone who’s had a tough and tiring week in school or at work 🥰

The date begins with MC heading to the office at the ungodly hour of 6am, right after landing at the airport.

She’s tired but has to sit through a sudden and lengthy meeting with Yuelai Entertainment (“Yuelai”).

Yuelai is a reputable company which suddenly changed its mind regarding establishing a long-term partnership with MC’s company.

The representative from Yuelai bears bad news, saying that a partnership is unlikely due to budget constraints. MC asks for another chance to redo the proposal, but Yuelai gives her a vague response and leaves.

MC feels downcast because her staff members have been working very hard on the proposal, and all their efforts seem to have gone to waste. Anna tells her to rest, but MC wants to create a new proposal to change Yuelai’s mind.

She heads to Victor’s office later in the morning to present her weekly report. She starts dozing off.

A fountain pen taps my forehead. My eyes snap open in shock, and I am faced with an expressionless Victor.

Victor: Don’t get distracted during the meeting.

MC: Only the two of us are here…

I mutter under my breath, letting out a yawn.

Victor: Stayed up late again?

MC: I had a late flight, so I spent most of the night in the airport. And there was a sudden meeting at the office this morning…

I rub my tired eyes, feeling dejected as I recall the bad news from this morning.

Victor stops flipping through the material in his hands, raising his head to look at me.

Victor: Have you been feeling tired recently?

MC: Not really.

I deny instantly. Victor pauses, frowning slightly.

Victor: Just look at your eyebags. Even the pandas in the zoo recognize you as their relative.

MC: It’s just that everything is packed together so I’m busier than usual. I’ll be fine after getting through this period!

Victor: You’re really doing fine?

I nod without hesitation.

MC: Mm, I can handle it!

Goldman showed me Victor’s schedule for these two weeks, and the extent that it is filled to the brim is shocking. Compared to him, my workload is not worth mentioning.

Victor: Do you have any work this afternoon?

MC: Why do you ask?

Victor: I’ve read through your proposal and there aren’t any big issues. Go back and get a good rest. You’re not allowed to stay up late over the next few days.

I pause for a moment, look at the pile of work on Victor’s desk, and take out my laptop.

MC: I’ll stay here with you. Being able to stay with you is my best form of relaxation.

Victor: …up to you.

Victor lets out a sigh, a smile slipping onto his face.

Victor: How’s the deal with Yuelai Entertainment?

MC: This… I’m still not sure about their final decision.

I avert my eyes, even more determined to create a perfect proposal for Yuelai Entertainment.

MC is just about to ask Victor for advice when she receives a call. She has to return to the office to deal with a difficult guest on their talk show.

After that, MC finds one of her staff crying from stress

Thinking of how to comfort her, MC recalls the many trials she faced since Ch 1 of the main storyline, and how she plowed through them all

After that:

I finally have a short break and I rub my sore temples, the fatigue built up over the past few days overwhelming me.

The weather is fine and the leaves are swaying in the breeze. I stare at the clouds and find myself suddenly missing Victor. The time spent with him this morning was probably the only time I felt relaxed in days.

Someone from Yuelai calls MC. While MC’s company crafted a very unique proposal, Yuelai sees no future in having a long-term partnership with a small company like MC’s. Yuelai hangs up on her before she can even negotiate.

Depressed, she decides to walk home because the next bus would only arrive in an hour. To make things worse, it suddenly starts pouring.

The rain is so heavy that the bag she uses to cover her head slips out of her hands, her items falling all over the ground. Her neatly arranged documents get drenched too.

I want to escape from the spotlight. I don’t want to face tomorrow. I want to find an empty corner and just burst into tears. 

The phone lying in the water vibrates, signaling an incoming call. I rub my swollen eyes and reach for my drenched phone.

MC: Hello?

Victor: Where are you?

My voice is lodged in my throat. It never crossed my mind that Victor would call me at this very moment. I take a deep breath and pretend to answer in a relaxed manner. I didn’t want him to hear that I was about to cry.

MC: Why are you calling me at this time? I’ll be home soon, what about you?

Victor: …I see you.

MC: What did you say?

Victor: Turn around.

I follow what he says and am met with blinding headlights.

The car stops. Someone steps out of the car, opens an umbrella, and walks towards me.

Under the amber streetlights, his silhouette becomes clearer in the rain.

I stare dazedly at Victor, thinking that I’m hallucinating. The tears I had been suppressing threaten to overflow.

Victor frowns and looks at me, letting out a sigh.

Victor: How long do you want to stay in the rain? Come here.

I rub my eyes. Not caring how embarrassing I look, I rush into his arms.

The feeling of acid that has been accumulating in my heart finally escape. I bury my head in his chest and burst into tears.

The umbrella is tossed aside. He places his outercoat over me, and the residual warmth disperses the cold.

Victor: You’re crying so badly. Seems like you’ve suffered a lot.

MC: I’ve already worked so hard… I’ve tried everything… I don’t know what to do… so that I can be even better…

I speak and pause through my tears. Victor pats my back gently, his actions slow and tender.

Victor: I know. You’ve already done very well. I can see that.

His voice is impossibly gentle in the gradually lightening rain.

After some time, the rain finally stops.

I look up at him with my reddened eyes. The Victor standing in front of me still doesn’t seem real.

Water droplets from the trees above pelt onto his shoulder. Even the front of his shirt has a large patch from absorbing my tears.

MC: This isn’t a dream right… you… why are you here?

Victor doesn’t answer. He gently wipes a tearstain off my face.

Victor: To fetch a dummy home.

In the car, MC realizes that she has lost her house keys in the rain so she’s unable to return home.

Victor: We’re heading to my home anyway.

MC: Y-your home?

I suddenly think about the sight of me sobbing my heart out earlier.

MC: Victor…

Victor: What is it?

MC: Can you forget about my whole bawling incident just now?

Victor: Don’t worry, I’ll get my outercoat sent to the dry cleaners tomorrow.

MC: …

Victor: What happened today?

Faced with this sudden question, I don’t know where to begin. Maybe it was the sudden meeting with Yuelai Entertainment this morning, maybe it was dealing with the difficult guest, maybe it was the heavy rain…

Maybe the culmination of all these things left me helpless and made it clear that I am not as strong as I thought.

MC: I realized that I’m not as capable as I thought… the more ambitious I am, the more helpless and small I feel when met with failure… I feel like a good-for-nothing…

Victor: You really are stupid.

MC: Why are we on the topic of my stupidity again.

I mutter softly, but turn to look at him curiously.

MC: You look like you’ve never lost control of your emotions before.

Victor: I have.

In the tranquil evening, his voice becomes quieter.

Victor: I’m no different from you. There are many things I cannot do or force to make happen. It’s okay to not be strong, it’s okay to not do well. You don’t have to bottle up your emotions.

I stare at his side profile, recalling what he had once said to me—

Victor is also an ordinary person.

[Note] She’s making reference to Victor’s Understanding the Human World date

Victor: I won’t tell you to keep holding on no matter what difficulties you face. That isn’t realistic. There will come a time when you will become an even better version of yourself who will have enough courage and experience to deal with all of this.

I suddenly have a realisation.

MC: You are an ordinary Victor, I am a mediocre MC. Everyone will definitely experience joys and sorrows in life. It’s just that people have different thresholds of endurance.

He laughs lightly, not denying my words.

Under the gentle streetlights, he pauses. It is as though an inordinate amount of time passes before his voice reaches my ears, but every word is crystal clear.

Victor: But before that, I hope you can learn to rely on me. At least with me, you always have the right to be vulnerable.

After they reach Victor’s house, he towels her hair dry and covers her with a quilt. Victor prepares to take a shower and asks MC to get him a change of clothes. 

When MC enters the bathroom, Victor is in a state of undress – his shirt is half-open and his tie hangs loosely off his neck.

MC places the clean clothes down, but slips on her way out because - I kid you not - she keeps thinking about how she can see Victor’s abs through his shirt lol

Victor: Be careful!

Victor’s warning comes too late. I lose control of my body, falling against Victor. I hear a pain-filled groan from behind me.

Feeling something warm, I have a bad feeling as I lift up my head.

Under the bright lights, Victor pushes himself off the ground with his palm, leaning his back against the white tiles. His fringe is messy, beads of water on the tips of his hair.

His wet, half-translucent shirt sticks to his skin, revealing a sculpted abdomen that is usually covered and hidden.

The shower hose is at the side, and the sound of water continues to resound.

My line of sight trails from his leg upwards and finally settle on his handsome face. I feel slightly dazed.

Victor: Seen enough?

MC: No…

I bite my tongue before the words leave my mouth, trembling as I remove the hand that is still on his chest.

MC: One misfortune after another, haha…

Victor: Stand up. How long do you intend to sit on the floor?

Victor stands first before pulling me up. He then retrieves a towel to wipe off the water droplets on me.

Victor: There really isn’t a single moment when I don’t have to worry.

After this, MC chills on the sofa in the living room and looks around.

She sees her proposal on the table. Wondering what criticisms Victor has in store for her, she decides to flip through it:

Unexpectedly, every page is filled with more comments than usual.

“Not bad”

“There’s some improvement”

“Worthy of commendation”

Not only are there praises that I don’t normally see, but there are also extremely detailed examples and analysis.

A CEO who has a thousand things to do each day is so detailed and meticulous?

I can’t help but let out silly laughter, my fingers trembling lightly. I gently touch the handwriting that belongs to him.

In my most fatigued and embarrassing moment, Victor was the one who came to me with a hug.

He is the only island that I, a little boat which has drifted off course, can rely on.

Victor: Why haven’t you gone to sleep?

MC: …I can’t sleep. I was waiting for you.

Victor has stepped out of the bathroom and is now standing behind me.

He wipes his damp hair with a towel, water vapour faintly surrounding him. He looks at me, his line of sight following my actions to the proposal on the table. He looks surprised.

MC: I promise I’m not working. I was just looking around… and saw this.

I nod towards the red-coloured comments and cast him a smile that says: “I understand everything”.

Victor: I was just curious to see whether a silly technique of encouragement would be beneficial to you.

I’m not surprised that he isn’t speaking from the heart…

MC: It’s not silly at all, and it’s extremely effective! I recommend that you use it very often!

He ignores my teasing, walks around the sofa, and sits beside me.

I look at Victor, whose profile has been caged in a halo. Only the sounds of our breathing echo in the quiet air.

Victor: Your eyes are still swollen.

I subconsciously touch my eyelids.

MC: D-does it look ugly?

Victor: Mm, very ugly.

There is a smile in his voice.

MC: …then stop looking!

I lower my head dispiritedly, pulling the quilt over my head.

Victor: You dummy.

He looks even more deeply into my eyes. The breathing that falls on my ear is very gentle, very steady, and very long.

Victor: From now onwards, I’m the only one who can see your crying face.

💧

Phone Calls: First // Second

[of-faunsandyellowflowers]

Hello! I saw that you posted about working with Cernunnos, and I'm interested in working with him honestly, but there's one problem. I'm Chronically Ill, and have been bed bound almost all day, so I'm worried about how good of a devotee I can be when fatigued or depressed. Do you think Cernunnos would be alright with a Chronically Ill follower, and how he might even be able to help? And do you have any ideas for how to worship him while having little energy? Thanks so much, I appreciate it!

Hi! I get this question a lot from people actually. I'll post this one publically so ppl can see. This is going to be long! I apologize for that.

First and foremost: disabilities/chronic illness are NOT an issue for most deities/spirits that help guide is. There are some who are very old and quite unwilling to interact with humans due to past grievances or trauma that these souls have endured, but it's not a disability thing.

This is something that many many many of us here on earth experience (myself included, I am autistic with adhd, major depressive disorder, PTSD and major anxiety alongside IBS, Fibromyalgia and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome). I get this question a lot, and I've had this question myself.

Cernunnos (link to my long post about it which also mentions this) actually has a soft spot for chronically ill people and adores helping comfort them and bringing them guidance. You do not need to worry about this being a burden within your work. Theres SO many ways to practice magick, ritual, meditation and be a devotee to a god even when this way. I'm a dark forest/green witch (non wiccan) and I'm also a kitchen witch. These forms of magick bring me the most comfort and work best for me. Find the types you are drawn to, and incorporate them into your day. It doesnt need to be big. Divination, for example, is a good way to communicate with your gods when you are unable to meditate. Little things are just as impactful as the large ones and require minimal effort. Make tea with certain ingredients and enchant a spell for it....etc.

The first piece of advice I can give you is to get yourself into the mindset that you are, and shall always be good enough for a god to help guide you. This will not only raise your vibrations but will also set you on the path that you need to be. I fall back on this sometimes. This doesnt mean become conceited. We still need to show respect to these divine beings and when they offer guidance, be nice. DO NOT demand things.

Second, meditation is INCREDIBLE. it does NOT need to be some in depth 'find your soul' type meditation. With adhd, I have an awful time trying to concentrate. One thing Cernunnos has told me is that I must take my own time, and be patient. Even 5 min a day helps. Meditation opens you up to spirit more, grounds you, and makes it easier to do spirit work the more you do it and the longer tou do it. It is also VERY good way to cope with disabilities as it calms our mind down as well as body.

Third, grounding is 100% needed. This is why I mention meditation, through this you can learn to ground. Grounding is an exercise which literally 'grounds' your soul into your body, calming you and giving you a better base for when you start doing more magick. It's very easy to learn and takes minimal effort.

4th, learn divination. This can be tarot, oracle, pendulum...whatever YOU feel is best. This is the way I normally talk to Cernunnos when my hearing is blocked.

5th, learn how to put up wards. This is mentioned in my Cernunnos post that I put up. A lot of people on here will state you do not need them. Heres the thing, you do. It's not because Gods cant protect us, it's because Gods have SO many people that they work with and theres so much that we as humans? We dont know about. As someone whose been attacked BY a malicious spirit, I can concur you do need wards when you do magick. They also are essential because they teach you defensive magick which Gods would want you to know anyway when you get to the point of travelling in the astral, but that's more advance magick. Anyway how to wards is in that link!

6th, in my link I shared it talks about a lot of ways to get in contact with Cernunnos but I'd like to mention some ways I do it as a chronically Ill person myself. I'll also list ways I personally offer him things.

Meditation outside (not during winter)

Dancing (he adores dancing)

Listening to irish/celtic music

Cooking with his favorite foods

Tarot

Telling him about my day out loud

Telling him I love him, thanking him for his guidance

Wearing his pendant.

Singing in irish

I'd also like to note that Cernunnos has such a soft spot for his disabled devotees, he will literally yell at you sometimes if you are pushing yourself too hard or being disrespectful to your body in anyway. And some warnings: if you choose to work with him you HAVE to be respectful to nature. This doesnt mean be vegan. Cernunnos adores meat, you just need to honor it. Always give an offering or ask a plant prior to picking. Make friends with your local fae (just offer them things to keep the peace), talk with your trees. Be kind to the earth. That is his #1 rule when working with him. I've seen him get furious over trees be cut down too soon. He hates how corrupt our world has become.

He loves us, but he wants us to respect ourselves, our home, and so forth.

Again I hope this helps and you guys are always welcome to reach out to me about him!

[emilyearthwoods]

Your results are "healthy".

TW; ableism

Before I start giving you my life story, I think I should introduce myself and also provide a trigger warning. If you are sensitive to situations that involve gaslighting, trauma, a mental health crisis or can connect with this blog post it is advised to read at your own discretion.

If you are in the community or an ally, please feel free to interact, share or comment on your experiences with living with ableism.

Hi, my name is Em. That's short for Emily but I prefer Em because it's gender-neutral and everyone's always called me it over my actual name anyway. I'm a British Genderfluid pal from the East of Anglia. I have many chronic conditions which are all fortunately and unfortunately invisible. If people were to describe me they would probably say I am a happy friend who always wants to do good for others. the sad truth is I mask my true self so others don't have to feel alone in their struggles. I have been living with chronic pain and fatigue since the age of 9 but it became unbearable when I hit 21. I gave up on getting help for almost 7 years and this is my story dealing with ableism.

Please note: I am extremely fortunate I am white and of the middle working class. I recognize my privilege in the systemic climate and those who are not white and are disabled have it the hardest to get taken seriously due to racism and a system built on white supremacy. So, knowing what I've been through, you cannot imagine what it must be like for them

"your results look good from our end, I don't know what's causing it" - most of my medical professionals

To live with a debilitating chronic illness that cannot be picked up on the system is infuriating. To the point where I have been called hypochondriac by people who are in my life because they then believed without a diagnosis, I must have been exaggerating about my condition. I have had countless partners in my youth tell me to my face and behind my back that I am faking or not trying hard enough.

When faced with ending my life with my own hands in 2013 due to my PTSD, depression, and chronic pain my manager at the time screamed at me in front of the entire canteen because I was "faking". I had only come in to tell him I'm signing myself into A&E so I don't end my life and that he would have to cover my shift for the next few days. BTW, he also told people my partner at the time beat me even though I had 2 black eyes from a CAR ACCIDENT.

"you're doing things, you can't be in that much pain" or " you just need to do yoga" - a doctor

I have been fighting for the diagnosis of Fibromyalgia all my life but, no matter how many tests I have had they all came up negative.

Between the ages of 9 till 17 I was often admitted to the hospital with shooting electrical pains and screaming a bloodcurdling scream because I couldn't control my own body. If you can imagine having extreme pain jumping from your thigh to your toe back to your thigh, to your head to your other leg, and around and around.

How do you explain to a child that although they are experiencing extreme pain there is no known cause? they simply discharged me and stopped looking for answers. So, so did I.

Fast forward to age 22, I am newly married and have just got a mecfs diagnosis because after losing my dog traumatically I decline rapidly and I'm sleeping roughly 20 hours a day. All of a sudden, the pain I had pushed down and pushed down was back with a vengeance. That's then when I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia.

There were no tests, I told my doctor that my pain was getting too unbearable, and the response was met with "yeah, fibromyalgia runs in your family (it does) so it must be that and it's also common with mecfs. I'll add it to your diagnosis."

did that stop ableism and problems with interacting with others? NO.

It has made it harder to digest because now that I have a diagnosis the only way you can get support is my own research and symptom management. I now live with chronic anxiety due to medical trauma and the constant fear of my tests coming back "normal" which they always do.

How are we meant to help ourselves when others we put our trust in don't know either? Nothing has changed for me other than pain medication. I am still without help or support. I am not disabled enough in the eyes of the healthcare system and everything no matter what I go in for is either blamed on mental health or fibromyalgia.

This has resulted in something called inner ableism. If you would like me to elaborate please let me know in the comments but to summarise, a little would to describe it as constant conflict towards oneself for not being disabled enough or too disabled.

"it's probably just your fibromyalgia"... " have you been depressed lately?"

I hear it a lot. Over the years of trying to get diagnosed everything was pinned on depression despite not being depressed. What made me depressed was the lack of support and understanding. How is one supposed to navigate the ableist world outside if there isn't someone who will listen and help us adapt when we need to use aids to get upstairs or can't even attempt it? Without my meds, I am unable to do anything but sleep because I feel everything. I feel my stomach digest my food which is painful! I feel my muscles move and throb, and I cannot do anything but sleep.

will it end?

probably not but I will continue to fight for myself and for others. It is incredibly difficult to navigate a world that will continuously put you down and tell you that what you are experiencing is false. This world might be cruel towards disabled people but I want to step up to the front to make sure we have a safe place and an area on the internet to be heard, feel valid, and understood. Most people who live with chronic pain feel like they have no options left and that needs to change. Please be understanding, check on your friends and family or ask them if they need anything or spend time with them. We don't all want a cure but we all want recognition that we are doing our best.

I hope you are managing well, that your spoons are full and your pain remains low.

[pinkjeanist]

“cigarette daydreams.” || giran

     - It’s one of those nights, and apparently, Kagero’s having one of those nights, too. 

a/n: warning for depressive reader and themes. this was really self indulgent. [navigation]

It was one of those nights where existing was just a little too hard.

The rain began to beat harder against the window as you felt yourself slipping further into the numb feeling that had climbed its way out of your throat hours before. You didn’t know how many episodes of the show you were watching had passed. You weren’t even sure if you knew what the show was about. But you let it play, only moving to close the “are you still watching?” message when it popped up. 

Kagero had told you earlier that morning that he might not be home until the next day, which meant that he definitely wouldn’t be home until noon, at the least. You used to interrogate him every time he left on one of his trips to make sure he wasn’t getting himself into something too dangerous (he always did, anyway), but you eventually accepted the nature of his work for what it was, and made him promise to come back in one piece. Now, though, the world felt empty without his hands running through your hair, or the smell of his cologne laying with the cigarette smoke. You felt empty. But there was nothing to be done, except letting the next episode play. 

It must have been past midnight when you heard the door open and close, accompanied by the sound of shoes sliding on the polished, wooden floor. You forced yourself to sit up and look over the couch.

“Kage?” 

He dropped his keys into the bowl by the door before coming around the corner, smiling as he saw you. The sight of him had your heart racing. You didn’t know when you’d felt it stop. “Hey, sugar. What are you still doing up?”

“You said you’d be home tomorrow…” 

He looked at you for a long moment with a solemn gaze before he replied: “The dude called off the deal. Can you tell me what you’re still doing up?” 

You collapsed down into the lying position you’d been in before. You mumbled, “Watching TV.” 

Kagero sighed and moved to stand by the couch. You tried not to meet his gaze as he looked down at you. “I think we both know that’s not true, sweets.” You hugged your pillow. “Another night?”

Your nod was all he needed to move closer. His hands stuffed his pockets as his head nodded to the TV screen. 

“What’s it about?” 

You paused. “He’s like...a detective. I think Mads Mikkelson eats people...and the dude from the Matrix is in it.”

“Keanu Reeves?”

“No, the pill guy…”

Kagero took the remote from where you’d dropped it on the floor earlier and brought up the episode details. He gave you a worried look. “Sugar, you’re on the finale of the first season. How do you not know what the show’s about?” 

“I don’t know…” You mumbled. He sighed and kneeled in front of where your head laid on the arm of the couch.

“What’d you have for supper, sweets?” He muttered, fingers running slowly over your hair. 

Your eyes closed under his touch. “Popcorn.” 

He answered, slowly and softly, “That don’t sound like supper to me, sugar. Can you eat some fruit for me? Bananas? Strawberries? The strawberries are a couple days old so they probably aren’t so sour.” 

You took a long second to consider it. “...Strawberries, please.” He kissed your forehead, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I’ll be right back, sweets.” He took the empty popcorn bowl on the stand next to you and padded into the kitchen. 

It didn’t feel real. You’d accepted before that he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow, and that he wouldn’t be there to help you. The thought of it had allowed you to fall deeper into the void, and now that he stood at the top with a rope, you weren’t sure you’d be able to reach. Whenever nights like this happened, and you had nowhere else to go, you had it sorted out by the next day. Now, he had to see you like this- distant, dejected, depressed. 

He never directly mentioned it, though, aside from what you repeated to him about your condition from your last therapist, who now was back in Shibuya where you and Kagero weren’t so welcome by the crime syndicates anymore. You hadn’t gotten a new therapist, and he’d never pushed. So here you were, glued to the couch, helplessly waiting for your strawberries.

You didn’t deserve him, you thought. He deserved more. 

“Sugar.”

He was standing in front of you, a small bowl of strawberries in hand. You let out a sigh through your nose as he set them on the stand. He kneeled down next to you again, hand again coming to rest on your cheek.

“Do you have any words for what you’re feeling, sugar?” 

“I don’t...I don’t know.” He pulled away only to sit properly on the ground before moving his hand back to your face. Your hand moved up to cover it, squeezing. “I’m sorry.”

“You ain’t got nothin’ to apologize for, sweetness.” He kissed your forehead, and then your lips before pulling away again. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

You shook your head into the pillow, so he reached into his pocket to pull out an opened pack and his lighter, making quick work of lighting it. You melted further into the couch at the scent of the smoke, but you couldn’t help but worry. “How many of those have you had today?”

He tried to put the cigarettes back in his pocket. You frowned. “Not too many…”

“Let me see the pack.”

He stopped, and you stared at each other for a long moment before he finally relented with a sigh. You frowned at the sight of the pack when he handed it to you. “This was full when you left. You’ve only got three more.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I know I said I’d try…” 

“Don’t apologize.” You reached for his free arm, and hesitantly, he let you put his hand back on your cheek. “You tried your best. I know you did.”

“But it wasn’t enough.” 

“It’s always enough for me.” His shoulders fell, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “What happened?” 

“Business. As usual.” He held the cigarette between his lips and reached for the bowl of strawberries, moving one next to your mouth. You took a careful bite so as to not let the juice run down onto the couch. “The dude’s secretary or whatever told me to wait. I was sitting there for three hours. Couldn’t do much else.”

“And then he bailed?”

“Yeah.” 

“Bastard.” You took another bite of the strawberry. You could see the fatigue in the way he looked at you over his tinted glasses. It wasn’t a good night for him, either. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I think we’ve both done enough apologizing for the night, yeah?” He muttered, bringing his face closer and setting the top of the strawberry back in the bowl. He quickly took another drag of his cigarette and aimed it away from you. “I thought we agreed to stop doing that.” 

You almost apologized for apologizing, but just nodded instead. He reached up to the ashtray on the table and knocked the cigarette against the side before placing it back between his lips. “You’re gorgeous, by the way. In case you didn’t know.”

“I haven’t showered in two days,” You grumbled. You could feel the ickiness in your skin against his hand. 

“That don’t mean you ain’t gorgeous, sugar. Can’t take away beauty.” 

“What if I turned into a worm? Would you still think I’m pretty?” You smiled for the first time that night as you asked him your question, and you felt your heart flutter when he smiled back. 

“I’d think you’re the prettiest worm in the world. No other worm compares.” It was nice to feel something again, hearing that. It wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world, but if Kagero would love you as a worm, that was all you needed to hear to know he was with you. 

You could see him at the edge of the void. He was smiling for you. You reached up and put your hands on the rope. 

“I think you’d be a handsome worm,” You said, not really sure what you were saying anymore but knowing that you meant it all. “I’d marry you as a worm.”

He looked at you a little different when you mentioned marriage. It wasn’t a bad sort of look, though- it was one of realization, a little “oh” moment over something you’d never considered before. Your eyes opened a little wider when you considered your own words, and then realized that you’d meant them.

If he’d love you as a worm, you might as well say it: “I wanna marry you.” 

He took a long drag of his cigarette. “I don’t think I’d be a good husband, but I’d marry you a million times over. Worm-form and all.” 

“Never said you had to be good. Just that you had to be.” 

He looked like he was gonna cry, now. You’d never seen him look like that. “Then I guess I will.”

You could feel yourself start to climb, away from the dark and up into smoke towards fancy cologne and a familiar gap-tooth grin. It felt nice, climbing back up without any fear of falling, or any worry of what was at the top. Kagero was waiting for you, and he’d wait as long as it took for you to find the surface again- even if you were a worm.

-

taglist: @knifeewifee @hanniejji @wesparklebitch @bvnnyclouds @katsukis-sad-angel

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist. 

[notveryglittery]

we could fall through december

summary: winter made everything so slow. roman didn’t think it fair.  ship: romantic roceit (roman/deceit) / wc: 1,600 warnings: sympathetic deceit, self-doubt/hatred, seasonal affective disorder, emotional outburst. let me know if i need to add anything. a/n: first fic of 2020 and it’s a gift!! feels good, feels organic. hope you like this, @rusted-but-golden <3 

read on ao3 | @fandersfic-roceit​

—  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  — 

Roman wondered what it was keeping him from getting out of bed.

Was it the “loss of interest?” Maybe it was the “sleep deprivation.” It just as well could have been the “lack of concentration.” Knowing his luck, it was all of the above. It was every symptom Google had listed, the apathy and the mood swings and the fatigue. He had so many things to do. There was plenty of time to do them. It was barely even noon yet which meant he had the entire day to finish the projects he’d started…

The clock flashed mockingly at him, reading 3:27. The projects he’d started had been ages ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he had picked them up. He wasn’t even sure what the date was.

Roman rolled over, burying his face into his pillow. It made breathing unnecessarily difficult. Kind of like how everything else was unnecessarily difficult. Like, why couldn’t he just kick the blankets off and get his feet on the ground? He was a prince! He was a knight! He was tough, self-assured, resilient! He had faced monsters larger than this. He faced blows to his ego like this daily.

Why did the lack of sunshine make so much of a difference?

Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of sunshine in his life already! Patton himself might as well have counted as one’s regular dose of vitamin D. Sometimes, Roman was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of Virgil’s smile or to hear a rare but treasured laugh from Logan. Those alone ought to have been enough to combat any gloomy day.

Finally lifting his head, Roman narrowed his eyes, squinting out the window. Not to mention, Thomas lived in Florida! The Mindscape should have reflected that. They barely had winter! It was more like extended fall. It didn’t even snow or rain (save for their consistent 3pm storm that lasted no more than an hour every day). Sure, the sun was obscured often by cloud cover but… well, it was still there! He had no excuse to be all mopey and sluggish just because the temperature had dropped.

…

Maybe he ought to just take a nap. Roman blinked, hard, and released a frustrated groan. With more effort than he’d care to admit, he lifted his arm and scrubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes, which had, quite rudely, begun to burn suddenly with tears. This was so stupid! Forcing himself to sit up felt like a herculean task, but he shoved the covers away and reached blindly for his bedside table. Instead of grabbing a tissue, though, his uncoordinated movements instead just knocked the box of Kleenex to the floor.

“Oh, come on!” He snapped, choking back a sob.

A knock sounded at the door.

“I’m busy,” he called back, without hesitation.

“You’re lying,” responded the visitor.

Roman muttered a curse under his breath. Any other day, he’d be delighted to see his beloved. As it were, he’d been avoiding Deceit just as much as he’d been avoiding everyone else. Was it a good idea to isolate himself when there was a figurative (might as well have been literal) storm cloud hovering over his head? Of course not. Not like he ever had any good ideas to begin with, anyway.

“Roman,” Deceit purred from the other side of the door.

“Fine, fine,” Roman sighed, unlocking the door with a halfhearted snap of his fingers. “Come in, then.”

At least Deceit’s arrival had distracted him from crying any more. Running a hand through his hair to try and tame his bedhead, Roman watched as Deceit let himself in. He closed the door gently behind him. He looked as exquisite as always, not a hair or thread out of place. He was carrying two containers.

“Move over,” Deceit said, seating himself on the mattress without waiting.

He set the tupperware down and turned to Roman. His eyes scanned over Roman’s face. A lot of good his poker face did him when Roman was intimately aware of every one of Deceit’s expressions and facial tics by now.

“Hi,” Deceit said softly.

“Hey,” Roman replied, muted.

Roman shifted, pulling the sheets more tightly around his waist. God, he hated winter. It was so cold. He didn’t even have the energy to conjure a space heater or electric blankets.

“Brought you lunch,” Deceit offered, picking one of the meals up and prying the lid off.

The container was full of grilled cheese sandwiches, cut into hearts. Roman looked at Deceit, unable to resist grinning a little bit.

“Patton insisted on helping,” Deceit grumbled.

Roman reached for the other and found it filled with tomato bisque. It was warm in his hands. Without a care in the world, he lifted the bowl to his mouth and drank the soup straight from it. His arms ached doing so but damn if it didn’t taste good.

“There are spoons, you know!” Deceit said, scowling.

Roman licked his lips. “Sorry.”

They ate in relative silence after that. Sometimes they took turns dipping the grilled cheeses into the soup. At one point, Roman shyly held up one of his half-eaten heart shaped sandwiches and Deceit rolled his eyes as he held his own half up against Roman’s. Deceit would talk occasionally; about Virgil and Patton taking up the living room for a blanket fort that no one else was allowed in; about Thomas and Joan’s latest additions to Reasons to Smile; about the debate he and Logan had recently regarding whether or not Pluto was a planet.

“Did he end it with viva la Pluto, fuck you?” Roman asked, reaching forward to… His fingers twitched and he pulled back, looking away.

“Of course he did,” Deceit answered. He waved a hand and the containers disappeared. A heated blanket appeared in their place. “Come here, then.”

Roman hesitated. Deceit twirled a finger in the air, changing into comfy loungewear. The next movement was directed at Roman, whose pajamas were replaced with clean ones that smelled just slightly of lavender. Deceit shoved the blanket into Roman’s lap.

God, again with the stupid tears—

“Shh,” Deceit hushed him, hands coming up to cradle Roman’s face gently. “I know. It’s okay.”

“It isn’t,” Roman croaked, allowing himself to curl his fingers around one of Deceit’s wrists. “I’m supposed to be str… stronger than this.”

“Is Patton weak when he has his Days?”

“Of course not,” Roman defended, vehemently.

“Surely, Virgil is when he panics over the tiniest of things.”

“He isn't!”

“Then why, Roman, would you think yourself weak for this?”

“It’s just a lack of sunlight,” Roman scoffed, dropping his hand to his lap, where he proceeded to pick at his chipped nail polish. He tried to turn away, tried to break their locked gaze. He was pathetic enough without having to see Deceit’s pitying expression.

“Ro,” Deceit interrupted those thoughts, tone scolding. He let Roman go, knowing better than to keep his hold when it wasn’t wanted. “Logan’s with Thomas right now but don’t think for a second that I won’t call him here if that’s what it takes.”

“We’re not going to bother him with this—”

“Bother?”

“You know what I mean!”

“Actually, I don’t,” Deceit disagreed, sneering. He hated when it came to that. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“The first result for "things people also ask" when you search for seasonal affective disorder is whether or not it’s real,” Roman snapped. “And I’m not real, not technically, so how can something like seasonal fucking depression affect me!”

Roman gestured towards the floor to ceiling windows that comprised one wall of his room. The sky was bright blue. “Even if it did, I have complete control over the Fantasy Realm. I could just pop in for a few hours of basking in the sunshine and I’d be all better! I can’t even do that, though!”

“Dearheart, you know vitamin D in the Fantasy Realm would work just as well as hugs and food do.” Deceit tried not to think about the last time Roman had forgotten this. It’d been… frightening, to say the least.

“They literally have lamps that do the same thing but go off I guess.”

“Alright.” Deceit said abruptly.

He grabbed the heated blanket and draped it over Roman’s shoulders. Then, with perhaps more force than necessary, he pushed Roman back down onto the pillows.

“Hey!” Roman shouted, not appreciating being manhandled, thank you very much.

Deceit didn’t answer and instead just sprawled himself on top of Roman’s chest. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but whenever you start to talk bad about yourself, one of the reasons is because you’re touch-starved.”

“I am not—!” Roman would have finished his sentence if Deceit hadn’t buried a hand into his hair and scraped his nails along his scalp. Goosebumps erupted on his arms and at the back of his neck. “That…” Roman’s eyes slid shut. “That is cheating.”

“We’re not done talking about this,” Deceit promised, carding his fingers through Roman’s locks. “Right now, though, I think you could just use some physical affection and a nap.”

“I’m…” Roman sighed, melting under Deceit’s gentle touches.

“Hmm?” Deceit hummed, shifting so that he was a bit more comfortable and so that Roman could still breathe easily. “What is it, my articulate amor?”

“M’sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Deceit insisted, leaning up just close enough to press a kiss to Roman’s jaw. He tucked his face into the crook of Roman’s neck.

“... Okay,” Roman agreed haltingly. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you, your highness. Rest now.”

Whatever Roman had wanted to say was overtaken by a huge yawn. He shuffled as best he could further under the blankets, warmth wrapped around his shoulders and laid reassuringly on top of him. The idea of returning to this discussion scared him more than he thought it ought to but… He supposed he could work through it if he had someone so secure and patient like Deceit to help him.

[idk-maybe-i-did-it]

Scars: Year four, Chapter thirteen

Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of self harm,

When Y/n L/n awoke she couldn't find it in her to move. Not a single limb. Her entire body felt numb, and weak,

The girl raised her wrist and fiddled with her fingers for a few seconds, until the pain set in and they had to drop. She felt fatigued and depressed. More than usual anyway. Y/n couldn't keep her arm up for more than a few seconds and had to take breaks before she could try to move again.

Everything felt, numb, and she felt too small in Remus's bedroom. She felt like the walls were stretching everywhere and like there was no escape in sight.

So she stood, and tried to walk to the door to get away from the inevitable body-trap.

Only for Remus to walk into the bedroom at the very moment she dropped. The boy had to catch the blood and energy drained girl in his arms before she fell; he pulled her over to the bed and held her up in his lap. "Love your body is fatigued and blood-drained. It'll make you hurt even more if you try to move that much... just lay down with me and I'll read a book and you can try to eat some food or chocolate okay?"

The tired girl nodded and let Remus cover her back up before the feeling of being trapped returned. ____________________________

After Remus left and Mare helped Y/n into some clothes, his elder sister came towards him, " Remus, why don't you and the boys go out and hang around town today? I can stay with Y/n and we can hang out and bond and start wrapping you guy's present's." The other boy opened his mouth to object but before he could utter a word, the older female held up a hand and silenced him with a smirk,

" Besides, I already settled it with mum so you also have no choice. And, you need to hang out with the boys your age, if you hang out with Y/n too long you'll turn into a girl yourself." Remus retaliated by elbowing his sister's side as she too.

Mare pushed him towards the main house door where Sirius and James were waiting for him. Remus turned around and caught one last glimpse of his older sister before he was hauled out and pulled away from the place he had come to call home by his two bestfriens.

By the time the three of them had reached the main town, James, Sirius and Remus had already plotted many ways to explain to the population of Hogwarts that they were back again; all of which included 'coming back with a bang'.

" Padfoot, I'm hungry and Moony looks tired of walking, I suggest we go somewhere to eat. Remus?" James finally spoke up about his needs and him and Sirius turned their attention towards Remus. Remus, who had previously been thinking about life and Y/n and whether or not Y/n would like what he got her for Christmas and wondering how Y/n was, paid no attention and didn't care to look look at the other two boys. His brows were furrowed and his lips were parted slightly.

Sirius sighed heavily and grabbed Remus's shoulders shaking them hard, " Remus Lupin, Stop Daydreaming About Your Damn Wife And Snap Out Of It." The taller boy immediately snapped to attention and he did nothing to stop Sirius from shaking him back and forth; the boy managed a sentence between his torture sentence and he said such with irritation and full confidence, " I wasn't daydreaming about Y/n Sirius. Now what'dya want?"

Sirius finally let go once James pulled him off of the poor boy and they started walking again, " We're hungry and you've lived here the longest, you should know somewhere we can go." Remus looked down and bit his lip in concentration before letting out a sigh, " Well, there is this one place I took Y/n to last week... but if we go you're paying James." His tone had a sense of finality to it. He looked towards James and Sirius before heading off towards the small diner. ____________________________

" Wait Y/n! You said that when you and Remus went out last week he took you to that one diner, the one with neon lights on the side?" Mareabelle asked the younger girl whom of which was currently mixing a patch of icing beside her. " Yeah, the one with those blue neon lights on the sides. What about it?"

The older girl leaned forward on her elbows and stared at Y/n incredulously. " What do you mean, 'what about it?', Y/n that's where dad took mum to on their first date! And when you told me about it, it sounded like a legitimate date!"

Y/n's face flushed furiously and she turned her attention back towards the cookie batter in the bowl she was holding. " Mare I already told you, it wasn't a date."

" Y/n you cannot tell me that it didn't feel like a date!" The older girl moved her arm up and lightly shoved Y/n's shoulder making her flinch, wincing lightly. Mare recoiled and rolled up Y/n's sleeve to reveal a barrage of blood-stained bandages trailing her upper bicep to the middle of her arm.

" Y/n- Oh lord I'm so sorry. Honey you never told me- When did this happen?! Is this what Remus was trying to tell me about earlier?" The addressed girl looked over to the bandage and rolled her sleeve back down. " It's nothing Mare."

Mare looked at Y/n in slight anger, " Y/n, how can you say that this is nothing?! You're hurting yourself again and with the stress and memories of what that kid did to you yesterday I'm throughly surprised you haven't done it again today!"

The other girl, now slightly annoyed, turned on Mare. " Okay, so how about this, you can ask questions while we do this, then, you can have full rights to drag me off and do whatever you need to calm down your nerves and fix the bandages." ____________________________

Remus had finally guided them towards the place of which they were to eat at and the first thing Sirius did was move out to touch the door, " REMUS- Oh My Godric Gryffindor this is the place that you and Y/n had your date at?!" Sirius Black recoiled and looked over at Remus, giving him the 'bitch' look and raking him over with his eyes. "Good choice Moony, you'll win all the girls with this one..."

And under his breath he added, " and maybe a few guys too..."

Of course Remus didn't hear that last part. But the other of the three did. ____________________________

After Mare had taken the batch of Christmas cookies out of their oven she immediately whisked Y/n off to Remus's bathroom.

When she got there she didn't expect to see the sink so clean, well aside from the pink tinting, and she quickly instructed Y/n to pull off her shirt. To which she obviously said no to.

" Y/n, I cannot help unless I can see the wound clearly. And I know that your bare body is reserved only for Remus but you gotta make an exception right here-'

The elder teen never got to finish her sentence for the younger one started wacking her over the head with a book. " Yeah, I deserve that... But either way I still need you to take the shirt off so I can see your arm clearly Y/n. You can put it back on after I finish dressing the- the uh, wound..."

Y/n nodded silently and pulled her shirt off, wincing slightly when it came time to pull her bruised and bloodied arm through it's sleeve. Afterwards she moved and sat on the sink's counter so Mare could see her arm better. The girl's face was tinted a light shade of pink and soon, you could hear groans of pain from the younger girl as the other pulled the tightly wrapped bandages off of her body.

" Remus's stuff seemed to help the bruising go down a lot... and you didn't cut too deep either..."

The rest of her sentence was drowned out by the front door opening and James, Remus and Sirius barging into the house.

Mareabella quickly grabbed the wrappings and things needed for patching Y/n up and went to work carefully but quickly. The two of them did not want the boys to come in and see her arms; or bare upper body either for that matter.

The elder girl had almost finished wrapping the bandage around Y/n's slit-up arm when the door to Remus's bedroom burst open.

" Mare! Y/n! Are you two in here!?"

They could hear the worry in Remus' voice when he yelled out those words and Mare didn't even try to stop him when he went to open the bathroom door to reveal the two girls.

" Oh thank Godric you're okay. I thought something had happened to you two. Don't scare me like that again please."

Remus walked into the bathroom and stood leaned on the sink next to Y/n, pretending she were in a shirt again.

" Did you and the guys have fun while we did our things?" Remus' head snapped up to look Y/n in the face but the highest his head would go was right where her shoulder was. So, he sat up a bit and placed his chin on her shoulder, nuzzling his nose into her neck, " Yeah, we went that diner I took you to and talked and we walked around and thought about what pranks to pull on innocent people once we returned to school yet again. I see you two had fun, you made cookies, and pudding and you also wrapped up some stuff too."

Once Mare had finally finished wrapping Y/n's arm and had left the two of them alone, Y/n turned to Remus and leaned her head on his shoulder.

" thankyou..."

The taller boy already knew what she had meant by the simple gesture and gently grasped her right wrist, moved the back of her hand up to his mouth before he placed a kiss to it.

" There's nothing to thank me for love."

____________________________

Later that day while Y/n and Mare were busy wrapping things up for his mum and Remus was busy lulling the excited children to sleep he couldn't help but allow his mind to wander to what Sirius had said earlier.

" Wait James no, we can't just hook Remus up with some random chick here, he has a damn wife."

James scoffed and Remus's head snapped up at the suggestion.

" I don't have a wife Sirius."

The boy in question shook his head and shoved another fork-full of pancake into his awaiting mouth.

Once he had finished he looked back up at Remus with a quirked eyebrow. " Oh yeah, then explain to me how you knew I was talking about Y/n earlier when I told you to stop daydreaming about your wife huh?"

Him and James smirked at the expression on Remus' face after those words and exchanged a fist pump. Sirius pulled his leather jacket closer to his body and leaned forward, " C'mon Moony, just admit you fancy the gal and we'll back off."

The brown haired boy rolled his eyes and moved his head backwards to, " Look at the sky", before turning his gaze back to the two boys before him. " Okay so maybe I fancy Y/n. Why's it so important to you two anyway?"

The two black-haired boys shared matching mischievous looks and grinned back at him. " Well, one thing, so we can tease you about it. For another thing, to ask why we were walking you two down the isle."

That sentence threw him off balance and a look of great confusion settled across the boys face.

" Oh you know. Yesterday when you picked up Y/n bridal style. I think it's safe to say that was the wedding and with how beautiful my baby Sis was lookin I can see why you'd wanna marry her. Of course I would never marry her I'm just pointing out-'

James cut the rambling bimbo off, " We get your point Sirius."

Remus steadied himself and went back to tucking the children in. Tonight was Christmas Eve so they needed to be asleep.

Yet, Remus couldn't help but think about how Y/n would look in a wedding dress. Not a dress too fancy and most likely one that would cover her arms but keep her shoulder open, those were the kind of shirts Y/n normally wore around Remus and the ones she had been comfortable in so he just assumed she would wear a dress like that. The shirt would be simple, ankle length, classic, white plain silky looking skirt that matched perfectly with the dresses upper half.

Remus attempted to keep those thoughts out of his head for he knew they were wrong and that he didn't need to be thinking about Y/n in such a way.

But every time he thought about Sirius and what he said he just couldn't keep the train of thought out of his head.

The boy was thrown from his thoughts as someone knocked at the door to the children's bedroom. Remus quickly swiveled around on his heel and turned to see Y/n wearing one of his shirts and a pair of her jeans.

She quietly walked into the bedroom and stood next to the boy, her head only five inches away from being level with his. She wrapped both her arms around the boys neck and leaned her head on his shoulder, yawning. Remus wrapped both his arms around the girl waist and hoisted her up where she wrapped her legs lazily around his waist and her head moved to his chest.

" Mare and I finished."

Remus gently swayed his body to the sound of the music his mum was playing in the kitchen in their record player. " Oh yeah?"

The girl nuzzled her head into his chest again and yawned once more. " Yeah, and I'm tired so let's say we go to bed now."

Remus pretended to be in thought and went back to swaying. " Nah, I like that music mum's playing downstairs. How about we dance to that 'til she turns it off and I can carry you to the bed after."

Y/n sat listening to the gentle beating of Remus's heart for a moment before nodding. " Fine but you have to carry me downstairs too."

Remus let out a chuckle and a small 'yes ma'am' before he started to walk downstairs with the girl in his grasp.

The two of them could hear the music clearly by then.

Hey Jude, don't let me down

You have found her, now go and get her

Y/n stood up and placed a hand on Remus' shoulder taking her other hand in his while he placed his free hand on her waist. The two of them were pressed near each other and Y/n was content with listening to Remus's heartbeat from where she was.

Remember, to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better

Remus and Y/n continued to gently sway back and forth to the music, gradually making their way around the living room.

So let it out and let it in,

Hey Jude, begin

You're waiting for someone to preform with

Y/n was gently pulled out and gracefully twirled around in a slow circle before she was pulled back into Remus' grasp.

Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember, to let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better

Remus twirled the girl out again and puller her back in, lifting her up and twirling her gently in his arms once before pulling her back down.

Na, na, na na na na,

Na na na na, Hey Jude

Na, na, na na na, Hey Jude

Slowly, the music came to an end and Remus spun Y/n around and back into his arms once more, her back to his chest.

And if only for that moment,

the two felt perfectly content with the world ____________________________ I think my words have said enough __________________________ Drop a vote, drink some water, eat some food and remember You Are Loved! ^ - ^

[kzzzo]

chapter 3 - baby you don’t have to worry

“baby you don’t have to worry” that’s it, that’s the line

series masterlist - here

previous | next

a/n: the chapters just keep getting longer. also, angst?? my favorite genre to write. enjoy the second update of the day!

-

The day started off as usual, with your alarm going off to wake you up. You cook, eat breakfast, shower dress up and take care of the triplets. After quite a few months of doing the same routine, living it became easier and easier. It’s just like any other day, except for one thing.

“Mama, can stay home?” You looked down at Takeo tugging on your coat and pouting at you. The way his lower lip protruded combined with the fluttering of hos thick eyelashes (which is fortunately the only thing he inherited from his father) tugged on your heartstrings. You wanted to give in so badly but someone was going to report in class today and you just knew your terror professor will be giving a quiz right after it.

             “Aww, I’m sorry, baby. Mama really needs to go to class today.” Your son hung his head low in defeat. You crouch down to his height and tilted cupped his face so that he’d look at you. “How about I come home early and then we’ll buy snacks and have a movie night?” His face lit up slightly and you nodded.

             With that you drop them off to daycare and went straight to class where Kuroo was waiting on your desk. He smiled and waved at you so you did the same. The past few months had the two of you getting very slightly closer. You willingly approach him by yourself now to ask about previous lectures. But no, it’s still not close enough to Kuroo’s liking.

             “Good morning, (Y/N).”

             “Good morning to you, too, Kuroo. May I have my spot?” He moved out of the spot he was sitting in. You gave him a curt smile then proceeded to shove earphones into your ears before taking out the homework you didn’t get to finish the night before due to Kazuo’s crankiness.

             Kuroo defeatedly went back to his seat beside Bokuto and Akaashi and (lightly) slams his face on his desk. You were being so difficult but he didn’t want to give up because the past few months with you has him whipped for God knows what reason.

             “You better not bring that depression of yours to volleyball practice later.” Bokuto says as he prods Kuroo’s shoulder.

             “Coming from you, Bokuto?” Akaashi replied, to which Bokuto sputtered. Kuroo sighed without lifting his head. But he’s not giving up, no. Maybe he’ll try to catch up to you later after class and he’ll finally get to ask you out.

             “I’ve been thinking,” the two bickering males turned to their deflated friend. “Why the fuck didn’t we sit near the door?”

             “It’s Bokuto’s idea to sit by the windows. I believe his exact words were ‘that way when people look up into our classroom, they’ll see me’.” Kuroo clicked his tongue and went back to his deflated state until their professor arrived.

             There were six minutes before the last class ends. Kuroo’s heart was pounding, his right leg bouncing on and off the floor. This time for sure, he’ll talk to you before you even walk out the door. His eyes went back and forth from the professor to you, repeating until he tired himself out. Two minutes. He saw you shoving your things into your backpack discreetly, careful not to anger your professor with the fact that you’re packing up before he dismissed the class.

             Ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two and… as the words ‘dismissed’ rolled off of the elderly male in front of the class, Kuroo prepared himself to dash to the door. When the professor left, he was at the door in no time, Bokuto and Akaashi giving him a thumbs up from their seats.

             You were surprised to see Kuroo by the door, lightly panting. ‘Did he run here?’ you thought but shrugged it off.

             “Hey, are you free?” Kuroo felt pleased as he finally got to say those words to you.

             “Like, right now? Not really.” You reply, remembering your promise to Takeo.

             “Oh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “How about next time?”

             “Hmm. I usually have work after classes.” Oh. Oh. So that’s where you went after class. Now he finally understands why you’re always in a hurry to leave. “I’m not sure but maybe I’ll get free time someday. Let’s just talk about it over text, okay?”

             “But we don’t even have each other’s number.”

             “We don’t?” You glance up, thinking. “Oh, you’re right. Here.”

             And with that, Kuroo finally got your number. He’s actually been agonizing over how he’ll ask you for it but here you were, offering it to him first. It wasn’t such a defeat after all. Sure, he wasn’t able to ask you out, but hey, he got your number.

             “I really have to go now. Bye! Let’s go out next time.” Then you were gone. He stared at you as you jog through the hall. Unbeknownst to him, he had been smiling ever since you offered your number. You saw him but because of your dense ass you thought nothing of it, again.

             “Earth to Kuroo.” Akaashi said as he snaps his fingers in front of the bed headed male. “So how’d it go?”

             “Got her number.” was all he said before he and Bokuto fist bumped. “Come on. Turns out I’m attending practice anyway.”

             You run as fast as you can to the daycare to pick up your boys, feeling your lungs burning. Nonetheless, you continue running until you see the familiar building with adorable paintings of animals, clouds and rainbows. You see fellow parents picking up their kids. You felt your heart slightly ache when you see some leaving with a complete set of parents, with a father alongside a mother. Did the triplets ever wonder where their father was? Have they felt envious when the other kids talk about their father? You shook your head at the thought. When they ask, you’ll find the best answer where you won’t break their hearts like yours did.

             You enter the building and approached the room your boys were assigned in. The children were separated by age groups so that the teachers can take care of them better. When you arrived at said room, you see one of their teacher’s eyes widen before she gives you a smile.

             “Ms. (Y/N), you’re early today! You’re here to pick them up before my shift ends. Come in, I’ll call the triplets.” You smile back at her and followed her inside. Both Kazuo and Masao were playing blocks with the other children while Takeo sat in the corner quietly. Your heart broke at the sight. “Takeo has been gloomy the whole day and maybe even sleepy. Did he not get enough sleep last night?”

             “No… he was the first to sleep last night.” The teacher picks him up, whispering that you were there to pick them up then she handed him to you. “Thank you for your hard work today. Kazuo, Masao, let’s go.”

             “No, it’s my pleasure. They’re really fun to look after.” The two of you work on setting up the triple stroller before placing them in. “Have a great night, Ms. (Y/N). Bye-bye, Kazuo, Masao and Takeo. See you tomorrow!”

             You wave goodbye to the teacher then started walking away. You quickly fixed up the small ‘roofs’ of the stroller before asking the three what snacks they wanted to buy.

             “Mama…” Takeo quietly whined.

             “Yes, yes, baby. We’re on our way home, okay? Just wait a little while.”

             You made a quick stop to a bakery by the subway to buy the triplets their promised snacks. By the time you arrived in your apartment you were exhausted, to say the least. All you wanted to do was put the boys to bed then pass out but you promised to have movie night and you intended to keep that promise. That being said you positioned yourself in front of the stroller to raise their ‘roofs’. You were surprised to see the three sleeping peacefully. Their, chests rising steadily. Except for Takeo who was breathing in deeply. He was breathing so hard that his belly gets sucked under his ribs and seeing him turning pale made you pale as well.

             “T-Takeo? Takeo! Baby?!” You pick him up and you see the tears forming in his tightly shut eyes. “Takeo! Wake up! Don’t go to sleep, okay? Stay with Mama!”

             You panicked and even more so when you remembered that you were supposed to pick up his medicine today after work but that slipped out of your mind when you decided to not go for the boys. It felt like everything was falling apart but you had no time to panic. You hold Takeo close to you to rush out, hoping to ask a neighbor to take you to the hospital.

             Meanwhile, Kuroo was in the elevator, calmly whistling as he spins his car keys with his finger. When the elevator opened, he was met with as woman (who strangely resembled your form) carrying what seems like a baby. He got off the elevator with the intention of approaching the woman in case she needed help.

             “Excuse m-“ You turned at the sound of a voice, surprised to see Kuroo standing there, who seemed just as surprised. “(Y/N)??”

             “Kuroo! Help me! Takeo is..! My baby! Help my baby!” He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you’re his neighbor, that you have a child or that there is a child breathing very heavily in front of him. But just like you, he didn’t have time for that.

             “M-my car is in the parking lot. I know where the nearby hospital is.” You probably did, too, but that wasn’t what mattered.

             “Please take him to the car first. I-I have to take the two… I can’t leave them here. Please!” You urgently hand Takeo to him before rushing back to your apartment. “Please, Kuroo!”

             Adrenaline took over Kuroo’s body, he was rushing to the elevator in no time despite the fatigue he felt from practice. He frantically pushed the button multiple times, as if doing so would make it arrive faster. When it did, you had barely caught up, carrying two more (confused) children. The moment you stepped into the elevator your legs felt weak but you didn’t give in. Not until you know Takeo’s going to be alright.

             Kuroo rushed through the streets. Normally he’d be more obedient of the law and drove in accordance to the speed limit but this was an emergency. The woman he loves is currently in the back seat, tightly holding to her son who was hardly breathing and her two other sons who were crying in confusion.

             Finally, you arrived at the hospital and Takeo was taken to the ER. Kuroo was left at the lobby, with two toddlers sleeping on his lap while you nervously wait outside the ER. Takeo was finally in the hands of professionals and you should be able to relax more but you just can’t. Then, you remember your two other sons who you left with Kuroo so you walk back to them.

             “Kuroo,” He looked up from the two boys. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” With that you broke down. Finally letting your legs give in as you sobbed.

             Kuroo adjusted Masao so that he could hold both of he and his brother with one arm, using the other to pat your head, the only part of you he could reach at the moment. He wished he could hug you, but he was kind of in a difficult position.

             “He’ll be alright. His mom did her best to make sure of that.” You sobbed even harder upon hearing his words, quite the opposite of what Kuroo thought would happen. “H-hey.”

             You wiped away your tears and stood up, taking Kazuo from Kuroo. He watches you sit down next to him, adjusting your son on your lap.

You clear your throat, “This is Kazuo, the first born,” then you point to Masao. “That one’s Masao and… the one in the ER is Takeo.”

Using his one arm he pulls you in for a hug. Once again you were sobbing, finally expressing the fear you felt just moments ago properly. You both stayed in that position until you stopped crying. Or more like when Masao complained that he was being squished.

“When my water broke, I was worried. I was only thirty-five and a half weeks in. I knew that multiple pregnancies tended to end up preterm so I don’t know what I as expecting. I had to go through C-section. They said Kazuo and Masao were perfectly well for preterm babies but Takeo…” you paused when you felt tears well up in your eyes. “Well, he had to stay in the NICU longer than the two because of lung problems. We had to wait until he could breathe on his own before we got to take him home. Even then, we had to be attentive of him. So, I stopped school for a year.”

“Do you… wanna talk about this whole thing or..?” You contemplated whether you should tell him about the whole situation. He did seem to be genuinely curious for the sake of curiosity and hearing you out rather than asking for the sake of blabbing, so you did. Though only from the moment you found out about your pregnancy three weeks in, your ex-boyfriend broke up with you, your grandparents taking you in and having the triplets early. Kuroo was a very good listener. He took in every information you shared to him the whole time, even when he adjusted a squirming Kazuo.

Kuroo didn’t know what he could do for you so he settled with holding your hand and giving it a squeeze.

“That means I’m older than you by a year.” You playfully smiled at him. “I could’ve been your senior.”

“That would’ve been fine either way.” He replied. You smiled warmly at him then gave his hand a squeeze as well.

“Thank you so, so much, Kuroo. I don’t know what would’ve done if it weren’t for you.”

“Anything for you.”

[boggirlsummer]

Wet Hot American Summer

August 18 Zoey and I thought we fixed the leak in my tent but we were wrong. I spent the early morning inching away from a puddle that finally pushed me out around 8 am - time to get up anyway. Too rainy to cook or make coffee and I left camp aimlessly. I could barely see anything through the smoke and clouds which threw a wrench in my non-plan to drive around and take photos out the car window. Grand Tetons and Montana and Wyoming were up there on my teenage bucket list (lmao, dream big!), mostly for the landscapes and western vibes and maybe a few cathartic renditions of Wide Open Spaces. I just hiked all summer so I feel like I earned a few days of all-american automobile tourism.

Cozy

Decision fatigue is a ball buster on solo trips (and in life) and sometimes I refuse to change course even when it’s clear that a plan isn’t going to work out. I drove around Tetons alternately listening to the directions and making random navigational decisions, so Google kept yelling at me to make a u-turn. Eventually I got annoyed with both of us and stopped for snacks at the general store. I’ve been making my way through all the kettle chip flavors and so far honey dijon is the best and korean bbq is the worst.

Drove straight through to Yellowstone hoping the storm would let up, but by the time I got there it was 50 degrees with rain expected all afternoon. I thought it would be SUMMER once I left the Bay Area, so all my sweaters and warm jackets are in vacuum sealed bags that I don’t have the space in my car to open. I wasn’t loving the idea of being wet and cold in Yellowstone all night so I talked the campground lady into refunding my site reservation and headed for Big Sky, Montana.

I felt bad leaving without seeing any of the Yellowstone sights so I stopped at Old Faithful on my way out. I knew laughably little about what I was looking at and when a bunch of people started gathering I thought to myself, is this thing gonna explode or something?? And ya turns out that’s the entire point, it shoots a bunch of water and steam into the air every few minutes. I bought a cup of coffee and watched halfheartedly. The only other attraction I know about is the rainbow glory hole and there was so much traffic to park in the lot I said screw it and went on to Montana.

No LTE between Yellowstone and Big Sky and I was without a place to sleep - luckily my sister was available to do some emergency concierge work for me. I eventually found a nice campground near town but the obscene number of bear country warning signs freaked me out. I backtracked to Big Sky to buy a $50 can of bear spray, what a rip. Feeling beat today so I made it up to myself with a bowl of chicken curry ramen and a Sapporo. It was no nugget curry, but it did the job ☺️

Reading the bear spray instructions before bed - you’re supposed to use it once a charging bear is two to three seconds from reaching you. Wtf. I can’t do anything in two seconds. Finished Year of the Monkey at last. Almost fell asleep with a candy wrapper in my pocket, instant death. Also I got my period and I’m worried this is going to attract the bears.

August 19 I broke my own rule. I drove to Bozeman this morning and had a chicken fried steak at the Western Cafe, “The Last Best Cafe.” I had a nice chat with two old guys at the bar, initiated by ME! We talked about my trip so far and books (I was reading Walden Two and one of the guys had Woman in the Window with him, and we agreed that both authors are pretty nuts). Good time all around and then one of them secretly bought my breakfast 🥰 I’ve only ever had creepy men buy me drinks at bars so free CFS with no strings attached was a revelation. My smile lit up the cold dark streets of Bozeman.

Too early for hostel check-in so I killed some time hanging out in a coffee shop and wandering around Main Street. When I’m alone in a new city I usually get on the apps, it’s fun to hang out with a real LOCAL and have an AUTHENTIC experience. I did this on my first night in Sydney last year and my date won $7,000 at a bar raffle he’d been going to every week for three years and then bought us a night’s worth of top shelf shots, bad coke, and dumplings. Obviously I was his good luck charm so I should’ve gotten a cut of that $$$ but whatever… Eventually we went back to his depressing loft outside of the city. It was barely furnished and full of his shitty art and luckily he didn’t have any condoms so I was able to decline sex without feeling guilty (I had condoms of course but didn’t disclose). He tried to fuck me again around 4 am and I was so confused I thought he must have found a condom while I was briefly sleeping. He had not. I snuck out at 6 am and caught the bus back to the city. Not the most restful night but nice to get away from the hostel for a little while. But ya I updated my Hinge location to Bozeman and got hella conservative men swiping on me 🥴 My profile isn’t anything crazy but I don’t think I’m giving off Megyn Kelly vibes. Are they playing some sort of sexual bingo? Are they out to stealth me? Seems sus.

If you are a man on Hinge with a naked photo on your profile I WILL screenshot it and I WILL make a collage of my collection once I have enough material and I WILL sell it as a NFT and I WILL make $0 cuz y’all are freaks. This is the tamest one I’ve got, text me if you want a photo of a naked man covering his junk with a pineapple.

Ooooieee hostel is grungy and subterranean and not the kinda place you want to spend many conscious hours in. I took myself to the movies to escape - another thing I really missed last year. I saw The Night House, which I would describe as an architectural horror? I’ve been thinking about architecture a lot lately, this cool site Zoey sent me has some interesting interviews and stuff. In the movies I ate an entire bag of sour gummy worms and a box of junior mints.

Had a freaky bookstore experience earlier today, not the first time this summer. I originally wrote a longgg paragraph about synchronicity here but I got self conscious and started wondering if hearing other people’s stories about synchronicity is like listening to them talk about their dreams. I personally love talking about dreams (call me and tell me about your crazy dreams!!) but things definitely get lost in translation and sometimes they’re straight boring (like when my old coworkers and I used to dream in Excel, fucckkk). So I get why people find it annoying and here at Bog Girl Summer we can’t afford to alienate any of our readers. All I will say is that I walked into a bookstore today with synchronicity very much on my mind, went to the psychology section to buy a baby Jung text, and there saw a literal sign that said “Staff Pick, Introductory Jung: Synchronicity.” So yes, I bought it. Don’t forget y’all - I have a psychology degree so please don’t come after me about confirmation bias and all that lol. It’s very possible that in this summer of upheaval I’m desperate for some kinda sign that I’m on the right path. Let me have this one 😘

I also bought this postcard which spoke to me because most days I feel like I’m trying to drink out of a firehose