#I AM DETERMINED TO FIND BAD BUNNY TICKETS

[dulce-cafecito]

....

#I AM DETERMINED TO FIND BAD BUNNY TICKETS #I CLAIM IT #IN THE NAME OF JESUS #lmao #personal

[the-creative-lounge-blog]

Third Shift Kakashi - A Lounge Round Robin Story

In this modern AU in-server event for November, Loungers tell the tale of Kakashi's night shift at a convenience store/gas station one sentence at a time.

What is a round robin story? A round robin story is a story that is written by multiple people. Participants take turns contributing a sentence. The last sentence is sent to the next person, who adds their sentence, and then the process repeats through an established amount of time (our event lasted one week).

Participants in Third Shift Kakashi were contacted via DM with the last sentence, and they replied with one new sentence.

Often, round robin stories don’t make sense and they’re meant to make us laugh. To ensure this, a ridiculous topic was chosen from among the MANY fantastic plot bunnies that are Kakashi Lounge-originals:

Third shift Kakashi: Our favorite tired ninja dork punches in at 10pm to begin his third shift at the 7-11 (or Speedway, Circle K, Kwik Trip, or your country's equivalent of a 24-hour gas station/convenience store). Strange things happen during his nightshift but participants decide what those things are. The Slurpee machine gains sentience. Ōtsutsuki aliens land in the parking lot. Cheeto-fingers Obito tries to steal jerky. Deidara tries to use a fake ID to buy beer. Granny Chiyo comes in and pays with pennies. Any and all of these are believable occurrences from 10pm-6am, and more. The weirder, the better.

The only rules were to keep it rated T, and no romantic pairings.

This dumpster fire masterpiece of a round robin story was written by: @maiikawriter, @fleuraison7, Kitera_Matar, /vastments, @mouseymightymarvellous, @thetoxicstrawberry, @myaekingheart, @mallml, @nibbler747, @syusukewrites, @asiriyep, @azuzel23, @tenzosnewleaf, and @hkandiu (all contributed sentences are in italics and each are double-spaced) with opening and closing paragraphs written by @ohayohimawari:

Kakashi sighed as he punched in twelve minutes late to his shift. He’d been late enough times to warrant a written warning from management, but that threat was nothing compared to what he experienced during his overnight shifts at Konoha’s 24/7 convenience store. He pulled his book out of his back pocket with more hope than expectation that he’d actually find time to read amidst the strange things that occurred between 10 pm and 6 am. 

Yukiko and her lover were just getting around to second base and ready to confess their love in this chapter when he’d had to leave for work.

Kakashi pocketed the worn Icha Icha volume reluctantly, hoping for a quiet shift so that he could dive into it again later, and took his prepared bag to head out to his workplace.

Kakashi walked through the store, prepared bag in hand, Icha Icha in his pocket, and sighed as he saw the repeat customer hovering by the front counter.

“No, Naruto, we still haven’t received the limited edition Gutsy Shinobi ramen cups; I told you I’ll call you if we get them.”

Kakashi never heard Naruto’s reply, because his voice was suddenly drowned out by the deep growl of engines pulling into the station, and any hope he had for an uneventful shift was dashed just as quickly as Naruto’s chance of indulging in the delicious goodness of Gutsy Shinobi ramen with the arrival of the Akatsuki Biker Gang.

The group of delinquents strolled into the store as if they owned the place, all sporting matching black leather jackets with red cloud patches on the shoulders and back--an omen that things were about to go south very quickly.

Without seeming to lift his eyes from his book, Kakashi sighed to himself as he watched them clumsily stuff candy bars and Slim Jims under their jackets... were the Akatsuki having an initiation night?

Should he bother confronting them?  The long expired Slim Jims they were about to partake in might be punishment enough.

Kakashi put on his best fake customer service smile and didn't say anything - whatever they were stealing, he wasn't paid enough to care.

He sighed. ‘Sir, if you lick the candy bars one more time it’s a week ban. Not so funny when you can’t get those stale nachos, huh?’

Just to prove his point, and maybe because he was feeling a bit exasperated by now, Kakashi carefully unwrapped a candy bar of his own and inhaled the whole thing in two seconds beneath his mask - leaving the visitor stunned, staring wide-eyed with new appreciation at the silver-haired man’s obvious authority on the subject of candy-bar licking.

"Ew," Naruto reminded Kakashi of his presence at the same time that Deidara tried to sneak a six-pack of Budweiser beneath his shirt, so he changed tack to deal with the Akatsuki Biker Gang because he wanted to keep his loyal customers.

Although, 'loyal customers' was a bit of a stretch at times; yes, they frequented the place often, but more often than not they also gave him quite the headache.

He was too tired for this shit at this hour of the day. 

Kakashi did what he was best at - feigning boredom and being unaffected by what was happening in the hope that the problem solved itself.

Kakashi pulled out his beloved Icha Icha and proceeded to hide behind the vivid orange cover as he ignored the problem happening in front of him.

The Akatsuki biker gang couldn’t be so easily ignored, as Hidan proved when he snatched the orange book from Kakashi’s hand.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Kakashi said pleasantly, his best customer service smile sharp as blades under his mask, “but that’s not for sale.”

Hidan squinted and flipped the book sideways in a gesture that made Kakashi think he had never held a book before, let alone read one, and Kakashi’s eyes flicked to the closed-circuit camera in the corner as he contemplated forgoing his service training in order to retrieve it, but stopped when he noticed the suspicious red smudges that the man’s fingertips left behind on the cover of his cherished Icha Icha.

It was too bright to be anything ominous - in fact, it matched the same shade as the cherry-flavored Slurpee they offered - but Kakashi wasn’t about to let Hidan slide on stealing a mouthful of frozen delight, or marring his favorite book, so he growled, “You owe me two dollars for the drink and a new copy of Icha-Icha.”

"Two dollars!--look, I'd pay ya, but my partner's a real Stooge [sic] with the purse strings... how 'bout I make it up to you in the stock room instead, if you know what I mean?" the gray-haired religious fetishist suggested with a waggle of eyebrows.

Kakashi considered the offer as it would lessen his shift duties and afford more time to read, however, just then his, Naruto’s, and every head belonging to the Akatsuki biker gang turned to the main entrance when the cheerful ding sounded announcing the arrival of another repeat customer, Granny Chiyo, with her fists full of scratch-off lottery tickets.

Granny Chiyo, was a legend not just for being the bad-ass take no names grandmother of one of the more dangerous Akatsuki gang members, but also for being thrifty.  She slammed the scratch off lottery tickets on the counter, and reached into her jacket and pulled out Kakashi's most dreaded item - the jar of pennies.

She placed the jar on the counter with a loud clunk before reaching inside and pulling out pennies one by one, counting them on the counter under her breath. "This will only take a moment" she assured him, "I want to be precise!"

Kakashi took in the mayhem around him with a glazed 100-meter stare.  There'd been worse nights, right? No machetes yet, right? All he needed was to make it to break time and have a smoke. 10 minutes.. Kakashi inhaled deeply and cleared his throat 'Take ALL the time you need Ma'am.'  He shouldn't get involved right? He needed to man the till, right?

Kakashi smiled at Chiyo who was determined to pay for her weird collection of knickknacks with a gajillion pennies, but couldn't help glancing at the security camera that showed an energetic teenager mid-dance battle with the local biker gang; the only thing more bizarre would be Gai showing up to join them and to be honest he wouldn't be surprised.

The universe was not about to pass over an opportunity like that; if Kakashi had learned anything in his long years, it was that the best way to handle the sudden burst of GREEN and NOISE that assaulted his senses (out of seemingly nowhere) was to remain calm and tip a casual “Yo” to his rival while keeping an eye on Chiyo, the teenager, the biker gang, and the dance battle all at once... Gai would probably join the dance battle in a few minutes anyway.

Because, hello my dear, he wasn't going to leave his dignity in pieces. Better dead than ridiculous ... Although maybe ...?

He ran a hand through his already unruly hair as he rolled his shoulders, getting ready for whatever lay ahead; a quick glance at the clock confirmed his shift still had a long ways to go.

There was no time to relax when the biker gang was already making a move on some products, thinking he wouldn’t notice.

Kakashi decided that losing his job over a bunch of tough dudes acting like broke teenagers wasn't worth it, so he strode over to them first; maybe Gai would help him if they got violent - not that Kakashi would need help with that though.

And that was when it all exploded as Gai joined the dance battle causing them to knock over a display onto the Akatsuki teenage biker gang who exploded in rage causing both the aged Chiyo and Naruto to get knocked to the ground.

Kakashi in panic rushed to Naruto almost running over the old Chiyo and got out his flute then started to bang in on poor knocked-out Naruto's head, the Akatsuki teenage biker gang all nodded as they understood that it was an extremely necessary step of Cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

Gai—either unconcerned, not noticing the damage, or convinced that anything can be solved with the power of dance—dropped to the ground in an impressive worm, once more pulling the attention of the Akatsuki members.

Instigated by the impromptu dance party, the eccentric masked Akatsuki member jumped up onto a tower of canned diet Coke and started beat boxing, and Kakashi could only watch in horror as Gai’s worm morphed into break dancing.

Kakashi sighed and rubbed his tired eyes from behind the counter as he watched Gai break dance down the snack aisle to the rhythm of the masked man's beatboxing, onlookers pumping their fists and cheering as another Akatsuki gang member started to rap about how "art is an explosion."

'What the hell,' was the thought that echoed through Kakashi's aching head with increasing volume; what the hell indeed?--and as he ripped off his red vest  and leapt to the top of the counter, the crowd, one by one, turned toward him and fell silent: the cheering onlookers, the masked beat-boxer, the pony-tailed blond... until, at last, the only sound and movement was the frenzied tricking of Gai as the spandex-clad man danced on, unaware.

As he crouched on the counter he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go through with this - but desperate times called for desperate measures.  He grabbed a Slim Jim and held it up as a mic.  There was only one song that would shut them up.

Kakashi started the song softly, but got louder with each word, one hand leading the dance as he ever so slightly got closer to the crowd and then- 3am really was the witching hour, huh? - the crowd joined his dance and with each Ey macarena they were inching a little closer towards the exit in perfect synchrony.

Just then, Naruto regained consciousness and after blinking several times at the chaotic crowd, exclaimed, “What happened to the old lady that was here?”

Kakashi dropped the Slim Jim mic at these words, and glanced where Chiyo had once stood only to find a list of her purchases and her payment-the jar of pennies-waiting to be counted. He ran a hand down his face, noticed the mess below the dripping slurpee machine, spied Deidara passed out in a corner with empty beer cans around him, Kisame and Itachi not-so-secretly pocketing sunglasses, while Hidan sang and Gai danced on with abandon.

Irritably grabbing the mop for what would not be the last time that night, Kakashi unceremoniously stepped over Naruto.

Kakashi briefly considered whether or not this job was really worth the $7.25 per hour it paid him, before surreptitiously mopping himself within a meter of Itachi and Kisame, who he surprised with a heavy “Thwack!” of the mop handle across the backs of both their legs, causing them each to drop a pair of sunglasses and clap their hands across their backsides to smooth the stinging sensation.

He laughed devilishly, enjoying the momentary respite  from the craziness of the shift and the antics of his so-called customers; was anyone actually buying anything tonight?

No matter, they didn’t need to, as long as they would get out.

But they just wouldn't get out, so Kakashi had to take more drastic measures - the fire alarm would get him into trouble with his employer, faking a power failure seemed like a safe option though, so he went over to the power box, turned off the main switch and listened with a deep satisfaction to the surprised screams and commotions in the shop.

“Lights are out,” Kakashi stated obviously, walking carefully back towards the register, “so if everybody could put any unpurchased items down and carefully head towards the still illuminated exit signs, that would be greatly appreciated.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by murmuring, and then the faint crumpling sound of what was either plastic encased items being set aside, or even more likely, being concealed in pockets.

While Kakashi knew that letting customers get away with stealing would come back to haunt him if and when his boss found out, at this rate he quite frankly couldn't even care--and besides, with all the lights off, he doubted the security cameras would pick up anything anyway.

As the subdued miscreants groped blindly to the door, illuminated only by the impassive green of the EXIT sign, Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief that his shift was finally winding down--that is, until the resounding BOOM that echoed from the front parking lot.

The screech of tires, the thundering bass, it was a sound he was only too familiar with -  it could only be one man.

Finally, finally the whole bunch was gone, only to be replaced by the loudest most obnoxious person he could think of, but Killer B was a regular and as such Kakashi had to endure his bad rapping.

Kakashi threw his head back and softly yeeted with fingers pointed skywards "Pew, pew pew! Fxxx my life!"

As the giant strode inside, clapped his hands on the countertop at the register and whooped “Yo! Bakayaro! Konoyaro! Kakashi, better watch me, can’t copy me, yeeeahhh!” the shopkeep wondered where this cheerful monster had been earlier, when so many folks were acting the fool (no doubt Killer Bee would have assisted him in wiping the floor with two or five of the previous visitors); “Bee, my man, you have no idea the kind of night I’ve been having...”

Unfortunately for Kakashi, Bee had become distracted by a motion sensor dancing sunflower, and took its song as a challenge for a mini rap battle.

"Yo, this flower's got moves! Look at it swaying while I spit some rad tunes!" Bee enthused and all Kakashi could manage in reply was a tired "You should've seen the dance battle earlier."

Lifting up his sunglasses to peer more closely at Kakashi's face--how was he able to see with those on in the middle of the night? the silveret wondered--B  yelled concernedly, "Yo man, feeling tired? Uninspired? Say no more! Let's hit the door!" and, heedless of Kakashi's terrified recoil, scooped the smaller man up under his arm and boogied them to his ride, parked across three spaces in the parking lot.

“What is the meaning of this?” The assistant shift supervisor, Danzo, showed up at the door, with Konoha’s 24/7 general manager, Hiruzen, right behind him. 

“Um—” Kakashi began, and ended because there was no explaining it. 

“You’re fi—” 

“I quit!” Kakashi shouted, silencing Danzo. 

Bee brandished a peace sign while Kakashi offered a much ruder gesture and the pair took off in search of an after party, or a nap. 

Just then, Naruto-whom everyone forgot about-stepped out from behind an endcap of ramen cups. “Does this mean you’re hiring?” 

Hiruzen smiled, “I’ll get you an application.”

The End

 Do you have an idea for a title? Add it in the replies to this post!

#the kakashi lounge #Kakashi #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #Modern AU #round robin story #third shift kakashi #the man is tired #strange things are afoot #the akatsuki biker gang #gai does the worm #the power of dance #killer bee raps #did anyone actually buy anything? #penny-pincher chiyo #naruto was there the whole time #server event #server shenanigans

[etudier-avec-bella]

My First Term at University

Hello! If you’ve been following me for a while, you may have noticed that this blog has been pretty dead for the past few months. Like, literally no new posts have gone up from me since results day. Yikes. Where have I been, and what’s been going on? That’s what I’m here to clear up. Because I have a lot to talk about.

I am going to be touching on three main topics: Life at York, my course and how I’ve been studying, and- finally- my mental wellbeing.

So, grab a hot drink, get cosy, and prepare for what is possibly the longest piece of writing I’ve ever produced in my life. Seriously. It’s huge.

**Disclaimer: In no way is this post supposed to reflect the ‘real’ life of the average student at York, nor am I making any comment on the quality of education or student life at York. I am aware that I’m extremely lucky to be a student on one of the best Chemistry courses in the country, and this post is simply detailing how I found the transition from living at home to living independently as a university student. York- I love you. Even if you weren’t my first choice, I am so glad I ended up here. I’ve met some wonderful people and learned so many incredible things just in this first term alone. Please don’t take this post as me hating on York or something, because I really, really don’t lmao**

Life in York

Let’s kick things off by talking about what it’s like to live in York!

Contrary to what I initially assumed about moving to a university in the middle of the countryside (i.e. that there would be nothing to do), York is a beautiful city, and I’m so excited to get better acquainted with it over the next three years.

The high streets here are jam-packed full of hidden gems- I seriously think that you could go to a different coffee shop every day for a year, there are so many of them dotted around. I’ve loved being able to wander around and see where my feet take me, and there’s always somewhere new to discover; bookshops, cafés, museums, the castle walls, art exhibits, concerts… Oh, my!

Some of my favourite places that I’ve discovered so far are:

●      Drift-In- my favourite little coffee shop! It’s never too busy if you go before midday, making it the ideal place to crack out some work in a more relaxed studying environment. They also offer a 10% student discount, and have a wall of polaroids of the dogs who have visited the café. Incredible.

●      Lucky Days- the perfect place to take your friends for lunch! They also do really good cakes if you ever feel like treating yourself after submitting an assignment.

●      The Little Apple Bookshop- There are lots of cute little indie bookshops on the road leading to the art gallery, but I think that this one is my personal favourite. Stock changes frequently, so it’s worth popping in every once in a while, and they have classic novels at much lower prices than the likes of Waterstones (for all of you English Lit students out there!)

As for the University Campus, it’s similarly wonderful. The River runs right through Campus West, making itself home to lots of ducks, geese, and other waterfowl. We also have wild bunnies outside the Biology greenhouses, and I always see them hopping around in the dark when I walk home from my French classes. Campus West isn’t too big- you can walk from one side to the other in about 15 minutes- so the student community is super tight-knit. I have friends from loads of different colleges who I’ve met through mixers, societies, and my classes, and it’s really easy for us to link up and do stuff together because we’re all so near to each other.

There are also some pretty cool places on campus, if you don’t feel like leaving to go to the city centre- the Sir Jack Lyons Concert Hall are always putting on lunchtime concerts with cheap tickets for students, which is a nice way to wind down after working all day AND show support for the music students, and there’s also a student-ran supermarket in Wentworth College called Scoop, where you can bring your own containers and buy spices/grains/pasta in bulk for much cheaper than you can in other similar supermarkets. Scoop also sell boxes of locally-sourced produce, making it easy to support small businesses on a budget!

Honestly, there are still lots of places on campus that I’m yet to visit. Whenever I get fed up of working, I like to go for a little 30-minute walk to the other side of the university grounds and see what I can find (there’s a really lovely garden behind Derwent College, it has a big stately manor house and lots of fancy greenery). It’s a nice way to get some fresh air and change up the scenery when I get stir-crazy from being in my room for so long.

My Course/Studying

As many, many people have told me in the past- university-level Chemistry is hard. And you know what? They were right. However, I like a challenge as much as the next overachiever, and as a self-confessed science nerd I’ve got to say… My course is a dream.

I know I’m only one term into my first year, but the way I look at basically everything around me has already changed so much. The fundamental knowledge you gain just from first module covers all of the main bases, and I’ve found that the way I think about and approach scientific problems is already very different to the way I would have looked at them during my A-Levels. You’re encouraged to think a lot more openly, and apply relatively basic concepts to solve really tricky problems instead of just learning the answers to a syllabus- it’s a great chance to utilise your all of your skills.

In terms of how I’ve been studying, not a lot has changed. My exams don’t carry any real credit this year, but I’m still aiming to achieve high grades. Over the Christmas break, I’ve been focusing a lot more on resting rather than working- so I whilst I haven’t done a LOT, the revision I’ve done has been productive. I still use flashcards and Quizlet, but I’ve recently introduced summary posters onto the scene as well, which has been working well for me. I’ll make a post on how I make these in the near future!

Overall, the first term has been pretty good academically. I feel stretched and challenged, and things are at a manageable level of difficulty. Which brings me onto something that has not been at a manageable level of difficulty this term…

My Wellbeing

Mental health. Something of a taboo topic within the study community. It’s something we all will deal with, and something most of us will struggle with to some degree at times. So, why don’t we talk about it more?

I won’t go into super deep, personal detail in this next section. Mostly because there are some things I’m not comfortable with sharing on the internet. However, I do think it’s important for me to use my small platform of followers to talk about my own experiences and attempt to tackle the stigma about being a student and struggling with mental health, so I am going to be as honest as I can about what’s been going on.

Before coming to university, I was already having a difficult time with my mental health, and had been for a few years. This summer was a particularly bad one for me. A-Levels left me completely exhausted, results day was a bit of a sticky one, and thinking about life as I knew it coming to an end was terrifying. I knew that, once I moved to uni, I was going to feel even sadder, lonelier, and more out-of-place than I already did. And I had no idea how to deal with it.

I believe that one of the biggest contributing factors to my sudden and sharp decline in mental wellness after arriving in York was the fact that, even two months later, I still hadn’t gotten over my Durham rejection. Ignoring my initial disappointment was a bad idea, though I didn’t know it at the time.

As someone who has been a high achiever their entire life, rejection and failure aren’t things I’m used to dealing with at all. Not on this scale, at least. Academics was the one thing I could always rely on, the one thing underpinning all of my successes. The one thing within which I had manifested almost my entire personality. Before, I was always Bella, the smart one. Bella, top of the class. Bella, the straight-A student; set to do great things; capable of going anywhere… But, now, here I was. Bella, just got rejected by her dream university.

Trying to settle into student life with a completely secure sense of self is hard enough- trying to settle in whilst struggling to cope with all of these new, conflicting feelings? It was so, so difficult. WAY more than I would ever admit to in real life. Stupid me was too proud to admit that I was upset to ‘only be going to my second choice’ so I told friends, family, and everyone else that I was perfectly happy to be going to York instead of Durham, and that I wasn’t sad about it at all.

(I want to clarify that I am in NO way trying to diminish the hard work and achievements of anybody who got into their second choice university, or anybody else who got into York. Only now have I realised that it’s nothing to be ashamed of, and if anything you should be proud that your efforts got you into whichever school you ended up in. I’m just sharing with you all how much I struggled to accept this rejection, and how it affected my mental health).

I knew people who had gotten in, and I saw them posting on Instagram about matriculation and other social events at the university. This completely broke my heart. I was happy for my friends who were studying there- they worked hard and more than deserved to be there… but I couldn’t help but feel jealous. I wanted to be there with them. The place that I had worked so incredibly hard to receive an offer for.

Although it’s embarrassing to admit, I did actually cry a bit after seeing these posts. I didn’t know how to process my feelings, because for those first few weeks after rejection I absolutely refused to let myself mope (looking back, I’ve got no idea why I did that. Wtf Bella?). I was determined to be strong about it and try to force myself to be happy with the situation I found myself in- despite the fact that, deep down, I knew it wasn’t where I wanted to be. Not at first, anyway. Pair the bittersweet pain of first-time rejection with my consistent struggle with self-esteem and low moods… Things got ugly fast.

If I had to put a finger on when I started to feel things getting really bad, I’d trace back to somewhere near the first month mark. Freshers week, whilst it felt awkward and drawn-out, wasn’t too bad in terms of my mental wellbeing. I think I was so caught up in trying to adjust to this crazy, new life I had that I didn’t have a lot of time to stop and wonder how I was feeling. Those of you who also struggle with mental health issues will know that they never really go away. They always at least linger in the background, if they aren’t in the forefront of your mind. So I suppose you could say that I felt my strange, healthy-but-unhealthy version of ‘normal’.

I hadn’t yet adapted to life as a York student, but that wasn’t much of a concern at this point. It takes a long time to adjust to change, and I had only been there for a few days. I thought I just needed to wait it out. But, after the first few weeks passed by, I started to notice something weird.

I still didn’t feel settled in. In fact, I didn’t feel like I was there at all. Nothing felt ‘real’. After years of dreaming and wondering what life would be like at university, I suddenly found that the situation I was in wasn’t what I expected it to be at all. I didn’t ‘feel’ like a university student here, even months into this first term. Or, rather, I didn’t feel what I had decided that being a university student ought to feel like.

For my whole life, I’ve attached so much of my identity to my intelligence and educational aspirations. To reach the highest stage of my academic career thus far- the place I’ve been working to get to my whole life- and find out that it was possible that this wasn’t where I wanted to be caused me to completely lose my sense of identity.

The conflict between feeling ‘too good’ for here, but simultaneously viewing my rejection as me ‘not being good enough’ for Durham left me drifting somewhere in the middle with all aspects of my life. University was a big deal for me, and had been for as long as I could remember. I attached so much of who I was to my work, and ergo the university I was going to go to. Having failed to prove to myself that I was who people had been telling me I was for years, I didn’t have scraps of personality left to hold onto.

I felt as though I didn’t belong here, but also that if that were true I didn’t really know where I did belong. I knew that I was smart, and that I was capable of achieving the A-Level grades that I needed to meet my offer requirements for my first choice. Things just didn’t go to plan in my Maths exams. But, at the same time, whenever I struggled with the work here in York, I would say to myself: ‘Oh, look. You can’t even manage the work they give you here. How did you ever think you were good enough for Durham?’

As you can imagine, this made my mental health quite difficult to manage properly. My inability to cope with rejection, trying to live independently for the first time, facing a whole new series of academic challenges, and missing my friends/family ALL took its toll on me in more ways than I care to say. But, stubborn old me tried to make the best of an unexpected, difficult situation. I decided that I wasn’t going to be ungrateful.

I had been accepted into one of the best schools for my subject in the country. I was going to try and make the most of life here, even if it wasn’t what I had wanted in the beginning, and even if it was proving to be a lot harder than I thought it would be. I wish I could say I was able to move past the sadness I felt because of my rejection and because of all of the other things going on in my life (my already poor mental health, trying to live independently…), but that just wasn’t the case.

To keep it short and sweet, student life was kicking my arse.

The dip in my mental health began to affect my ability to work and take care of myself. I was struggling with this sudden and total lack of motivation to keep up with just about everything.

Independent study was completely forgotten about. I skipped countless music rehearsals, and rarely spent time with my flatmates and friends. I didn’t cook properly- I relied on foods that took less than five minutes to cook or didn’t eat at all. I didn’t put as much effort into looking after myself and looking presentable as usual; I usually love dressing nicely, carrying out elaborate skincare and makeup routines- but all of that immediately went out of the window. I rarely left my room, and I would stay essentially completely by myself for days at a time.

There was no part of my life that didn’t take a blow as a result of my poor wellbeing. It was like I’d given up and decided I would just settle for the bare minimum and float aimlessly until the winter break arrived. I didn’t care anymore. Not about appearance, not about my work, and not about me.

Now is probably the time to mention that I didn’t actually tell anyone that this was going on, spare one of my closest friends who I knew for sure wouldn’t judge me. To this day, most people still have no idea that I was having such a bad time, and that I’m still feeling the residual negative emotions from the last few weeks of term. There are a lot of reasons why I didn’t talk to anyone about it, but the main two were that I’m a very private person, and that my family isn't always the most understanding when it comes to helping each other deal with mental health issues. I desperately wanted other people to know what I was going through, but the thought of coming out and telling them straight-up petrified me. I knew I couldn’t do it. So, I chose to hide all of it under the façade of being exhausted from my busy timetable. Or whatever excuse was most convenient at the time for whoever asked me what was wrong.

Another reason I didn’t tell anybody about what was going on kind of plays into the problems I’d been wrestling with before coming to uni (they’ve been an issue for much longer than just this summer, just to point out). I won’t talk about them in detail, because I’m not ready to discuss a lot of what I went through and what I’m still going through, but I’ll say that part of it is that I have a pretty crippling fear of being judged by other people. For my physical appearance, for my academic achievements, for my personal opinions and preferences- for everything. Everything. I don’t really talk about myself to anybody, so even just writing this post feels a bit odd. As you can imagine, admitting I’d been having a terrible time with my mental health to my close friends and family was out of the question.

I had basically reached my lowest point ever. I felt lonely, isolated, and completely lost. I wasn’t living the life people were expecting me to, and I wasn’t

Maybe this seems silly to some of you out there reading this who are dealing with a much bigger and more painful situations than my own. I recognise that there are much worse things I could be going through. And no, of course not every day of the past term was awful. I’m not trying to say that being rejected from my dream university caused this- rather that it fed into what was already a significantly complex problem. But, for someone like myself who pinned all of their self-worth on their educational goals and achievements- for someone who had never really ‘failed’ at something like this before- I was pretty fucking crushed. Enough to make me lose track of basic things I’d never usually had a problem managing before.

My problems had engulfed my life. I was miserable and couldn’t stand it. I was fed up of sticking it out alone. Desperate to let someone else take the burden for a little while, I finally, finally decided it might be worth considering getting some help.

I made an appointment to go and visit the University mental health services, and they signposted me to the local NHS mental health services. The waiting list for an assessment was surprisingly short- it only took me 2-3 weeks to get an appointment where I could receive an initial diagnosis and learn what treatments were available.

It was at this point I found out that I had an anxiety disorder.

This wasn’t particularly shocking news- I struggled with social anxiety as a young teenager- but it made me quite emotional to finally hear someone tell me that what I was feeling WAS part of a bigger problem. It wasn’t just me blowing things out of proportion.

So, that brings us to where I am now. Currently on the waiting list for group therapy. I haven’t really decided if its something I want to talk about on this blog yet, but I feel like even just sharing with other students that I took the step to go and seek help from my uni will hopefully encourage more people who are struggling to do so as well. Most universities have decent mental health services, or at least someone who can point you in the direction of the appropriate resources to help you, so it’s definitely worth looking into in my opinion.

But, right now, I’m feeling okay. This term has been challenging for me and my emotional wellbeing, but the knowledge that I ploughed through and (for the first time in my life) asked for help when I knew I needed it makes me feel proud of myself. A month away from halls has definitely helped me, and I’m actually looking forward to going back with a new, rejuvenated perspective on student life- which leads me onto the final section of this long, waffly post...

What have I learned? How am I trying to make changes? What are my plans for the future?

Well, aside from developing my Chemical knowledge through some pretty fantastic lecture courses and practical sessions, I’ve discovered a lot about myself this term. For example- I’ve realised that I place too much of my personal value on academic achievement and the prestige of the institutions I’m a member of. I should learn to accept that I am so much more than my grades, and that it doesn’t matter where I go to school. Sure, it would have been nice to enjoy all of the things life in Durham has to offer, but does it really matter when I’m living in a beautiful city, studying the subject I love with people who are just as excited about it as I am, and watching myself change and blossom into a completely new person? Not at all.

The most important thing, and the most difficult, was to admit and accept that I wasn’t having a good time here. And that it was okay to feel like this. I could lie to everyone around me about it and say that I was happy, but I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. In fact, it took being honest with myself for me to actually start to feel a little bit happier about where I was- literally AND mentally.

I suppose this begs the following question: would I consider transferring? Surely, after all of the emotional chaos I went through trying to get over what felt like the biggest setback of my life so far, I would take the ‘easy way out’ and re-sit my Maths papers so that I could re-apply to Durham and live the life I was convinced I needed to be living?

Honestly… No. Partially because the heartbreak of being rejected was kind of enough to put me off potentially going through it again by re-applying, but also because I feel like this is an important life experience for me to have.

I need to learn healthy coping mechanisms for dealing with rejection and being in situations I didn’t initially want to be in. Obviously, there are lines and limits with this kind of thing, and it differs from person to person and situation to situation, but I’m in a good place for me, I think. It isn’t perfect, but it isn’t meant to be. And I know that if I work hard to make the most of everything my life has to offer me, I’ll reach a point where the struggles I’m dealing with now will be but a distant memory.

...

So, that’s all I want to mention for now! I hope this explains why I’ve been so absent from this blog. Being productive was something I really struggled to do this term, so I didn’t have much going on that I could really post about. However, I’m looking forward to showing more of what my life as a Chemistry student at York looks like when I move back up for term two.

 Talking about this has really helped me to reflect on my experiences and gain a little bit of closure from what was a pretty wild and confusing 11 weeks. I might post more content like this in the future, because I think it’s important to show other students that they aren’t alone and more people are dealing with things like this than they realise, but I won’t make any promises just yet.

I hope you are all having a lovely winter break, wherever you are, and I hope you are all looking forward to the next term of school, college, university, or even just the New Year by itself!

See you soon.

Bella <3

#studyblr #mental health #student mental health #anxiety #coping with anxiety

[randombtsprincessa]

Asylum || 6

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Chapter:  01  02  03  04  05

Warning in-Chapter: Abusive Parents, Attempted Suicide, Panic Attack

We sat on the brightly colored carpet of Dr. Sihyuk’s office, while he himself sat on his office swivel chair, turning to talk to all of us in turn.

It was one of our group sessions, where we discussed how being around the people sitting in that room had affected us in between our sessions. It would’ve seemed pretentious and out of sorts but the small jokes the good doctor cracked and the various antics my friends belted out made it funnier and more bearable than a normal session usually was.

I was sitting between Taehyung and Namjoon as the doctor started with Yoongi.

He seemed aloof at first, his tone low and perpetually sassy even as he recounted an incident with Hoseok where he danced and compelled Yoongi to actually sing.

Hoseok was grinning, heart smile aimed cheekily at the older man as Dr. Sihyuk asked him if it made him feel a little more comfortable around music and if he was feeling a little less resentful towards the act.

Yoongi’s ears burned red as he scoffed under his breath.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, avoiding our gazes as all of our smiles faltered. “But I’m getting there,” he said finally, looking up and fixing his eyes on the therapist.

Hoseok let out a small relieved breath as Sihyuk nodded, checking something on his clipboard.

“You will get there, Yoongi. We all want first class tickets when you make it back big and glorious in the industry, after all.” He soothed.

I saw Yoongi look back down but a shadow of a wistful smile crossed his face, only to vanish when I blinked as the attention went to the next person.

Hoseok’s talk was more about how he was feeling physically better ever since he had started to get the handle of his body better. The effects of the drugs had made him sluggish, slow, and unable to cope with beats that helped him move.

The slow rehabilitation of his own senses was giving him his control back, the mind over his body the first thing he was aiming for.

He raised his hands as if to show a move to us but then smile, looking up at us. “I’ll just give you all a proper show when we get out of here.” he said, his sunshine personality breaking out despite talking about his darker times.

Taehyung and Jimin were still much better, able to pull smiles from our faces as Tae grumbled about the food fight he’d lost the other day to me and Jimin teaming up. I focused on Jimin again, trying to pick out emotions between his features as he murmured about hoping that he’d be able to join us outside and not succumb to his demons again.

His voice was melodious, eyes soft while his willowy face which was still ashy from pills did nothing to hide the fact that he was in pain. My chest ached for him, wanting nothing more but to give him a tight hug so I could put his broken pieces together.

Namjoon reached out, patting his back before Sihyuk turned his attention to him.

“Namjoon, what would you like to share?” he asked.

“Oh,” he started, looking around us all before giving our therapist a helpless glance. “My parents are coming to visit today.” He mumbled.

The air was suddenly tense.

There were things that were forbidden to mention in our circle.

Yoongi’s music, Hoseok’s vulnerability for substance abuse, Namjoon’s parents, Tae’s step dad, Jimin’s reason for being here and for me…Jungkook, they were topics which we handled with great care. It was a mark of how close we’d gotten and the extent of our healing that we were in one room talking about things that had rendered us so weak.

Namjoon’s parents being here was almost always a cause for concern.

I had only seen them once, in a picture album Namjoon had shown us. It was less of a family album than more of a show of opulence. His parents were classy, polished people with strict standards and no mind for incompetence or weak mindedness.

That’s what they hadn’t wanted in a son and that’s what they had gotten in Namjoon.

His affinity towards the arts had made his business leaning parents disgusted and that in turn made Namjoon determined to escape, no matter how many he times he was recognized and dumped back to his parents for their money.

Sending him here had been the ultimate way to cut him off from music but the influence Yoongi and Namjoon had on each other definitely proved that they had failed.

If they saw that their son wasn’t willing to bend to their will, it wouldn’t end well for him.

Sihyuk fixed Namjoon with his beady eyes, trying to get a read on him and if he was comfortable enough to face his parents. Even I reached out a hand to him, feeling his take it, twining our fingers.

It was a familiar action, one that gave us both a feeling of peace of being able to provide someone close to us a sense of security.

He squeezed my fingers once before letting it go and shot me a smile before looking at the doctor, who was eyeing him curiously.

“I’ll meet them.”

“I’ll meet them.”

I looked up from my book to see Jungkook standing in the doorway, looking bedraggled and uncertain. I frowned, putting the book down and scooting to the edge of his spacious couch. It was the norm for me to spend almost all my time in Jungkook’s own apartment rather than at my own place. it helped us both because we could have our own privacy and he had someone to look out for him when he got lost in his own world, be it for gaming or his music.

For the last week, he’d been working on a particular album that he said would give him a break if he managed to have it heard at one of the music houses in the city. He’d been at it nonstop and perpetually stressed. It didn’t help that the directors had asked him to meet up with them for a preliminary listening. No, he wanted to impress in the usual Jeon Jungkook style. He refused to hand over anything other than a complete album.

It had gotten so bad that I’d had to move in until further notice just to take care of him, taking his main bedroom while he stayed cooped up in the camp bed he had in his office.

“You’re doing me the favor, so it’s obvious you need to take the bed. I’ll just be in my office.” He’d said but I’d checked in on him too many times to know he wasn’t actually using the bed. He’d propped it against the wall and was snoring his head off at his desk, one arm slung over his head and the other hanging off the arm of his chair.

“Kookie,” I’d whined, startling him awake as he spat out a jumbled sentence of cognition. I’d wrapped an arm around his waist, hoisting his half asleep and exhausted frame up and tugging him to his warm and comfortable bed, dumping him into the fleecy mattress.

He’d bounced on it unceremoniously, all his bulk weighed down as I’d tucked him in before getting in behind him myself, fishing out a throw blanket to wrap around myself.

Of course, in the morning, I’d found myself sharing the same blanket as him, tree trunk arms wrapped around me with his head tucked in my back as he drooled.

I’d told him to handle in the album that day, watching his face fall immediately at the idea.

“I have it, Y/N. it’s almost done.” He whispered as he sat guiltily in his bed, a tray of coffee and sandwiches in his lap as I glared severely.

“You’re running yourself down, Jungkook. You’re not sleeping, you’re not eating and if I have to lug your big butt to bed again I swear to god.” I began and he rolled his eyes. “I do not have a big butt.” He mumbled under his bed, making me smack his arm.

“Just…you’re exhausted, Kook. Give them the damn tracks. You don’t have to work yourself to the bone.” I whispered. He’d chewed on the sandwiches, quietly; no indication if he’d even heard me.

Now though, Jungkook stood nervously in front of me, hands curving around each other as he bit his full bottom lip and eyed me.

“That’s great, Kook. Did they give you a time?” I asked.

“Tomorrow noon, I have to give them the tracks and they’ll listen to them and tell me how I did.” He said.

“Fantastic, I’ll drive you.” I said.

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. I’ve worn you out too, you should just sleep and I’ll bring take out back on my way.” He said.

“Don’t be dumb. Of course I’m coming with you. You’ll likely drink too much coffee and run up your car or something.” I said, smiling and holding my hands out to him to take.

He smiled back before his eyes glittered.

“Do you want to hear them?” he asked, a trickle of excitement seeping in his tone.

“Lead the way, maestro.”

“So, Y/N, I saw you carrying your diary around…are you finding it easier to talk about…things?” he asked.

“Um, yeah…I think I am. I mean, I still remember him, of him…” I stopped, swallowing and Jungkook’s dark floppy hair, bunny smile and twitching nose filled my vision.

“There are so many things that remind me of him,” I whispered. I smiled and looked at my small knit group. “They make it easier.” I said.

I caught Namjoon glance down into his hands with a soft smile tugging on his lips as Taehyung flopped dramatically in my lap.

“We’re here for you, Y/N. we’re your own new best friend.” He sighed before mimicking passing out.

Even Yoongi gave me a supportive smile as he smacked Taehyung’s feet.

Dr. Sihyuk soon excused Namjoon to go his meeting with his parents while Taehyung and Yoongi left to go sit in the common room, their sessions over for the day. Hoseok was called for a private substance abuse therapist and with a bland smile; he left too, leaving Jimin and me to sit awkwardly in front of Dr. Sihyuk.

“Do you have anything scheduled for today?” he asked.

Both of us shook our heads.

“Good, I wanted to talk to the two of you alone for a while. Jimin if you would wait in the office for a minute?” he said and Jimin dutifully stood up, passing through the room like a shadow. “So, Y/N is there anything that you want to discuss first?” he asked, prodding gently.

I glanced at the way Jimin had gone once before looking down.

“Um, I don’t know what you mean. I mean, I’m feeling better.” I mumbled. He leant forward.

“I see, would you say that this has something to do with your group? I know that people in your situation tend to…shift feelings of depending onto others when a particular source of comfort is…hmm, absent.” He settled for the term with a bite of his lip.

I shrugged.

“I guess I do see…Jungkook – in them. That’s why I got so close to them so fast, you know. I feel like there is a part of him in all of them. Yoongi’s protectiveness, Hoseok’s jokes, Jimin’s quietness, Taehyung’s playfulness and Namjoon’s care…these are all things that Jungkook had. They might not be him exactly but I do like them for the people they are.” I insisted.

Dr. Sihyuk smiled.

“Well at least you admit it…it will be easier for you once you leave here. I am hoping that when you do, so will the other boys but if they don’t…” he sighed and suddenly it seemed as if he’d aged.

“They don’t deserve to be cooped up here,” he mumbled before clearing his throat.

“I have been working with them for a while now and I am happy that they can leave whenever they want to but the problem of finding people you can depend on is exactly that – you start being dependent on that person.”

I nodded slowly, catching his drift and he nodded, straightening up.

“I think that will be all. Please send Jimin in,” he said and I got up hurriedly, rushing out to find Jimin already standing up, a small smile playing on his face.

“That bad, huh?” he asked.

“No, it was ok. Go on, I’ll wait here for you.” I said.

“You don’t have to -,”

“Go Jiminie.” I shoved him inside and closed the door before leaning next to the door to wait.

I closed my eyes and leant my head back against the wall to think back on what Dr. Sihyuk had told me about depending on others for your own happiness. Was that what was wrong with me? I had been too dependent on Jungkook but when he was gone…I had no one to make me feel happy? I scoffed in bitterness.

Jungkook was my best friend. Of course, he made me happy. Losing had caused half of my heart to wither away and turn to dust. I was still not accepting of the fact that I was never going to see him smile again, except for maybe pictures, I would never hear him sing for me, play for me, give me piggybacks, go for ice cream, dance, nothing…it was all gone.

I didn’t realize that Jimin was already done with his session until I heard the door open and he slipped out, his normally chalky expression if possible even softer and sadder before he blinked big dark eyes – so reminiscent of Jungkook at me.

“You’re crying,” he whispered.

I brushed my hand over my eyes, surprised to see that indeed, small trickles of wetness had leaked out the corners of my eyes, travelling down to my cheeks. I smiled reassuringly at the boy.

“It’s nothing, I was just thinking of some things.” I said.

He stood there, undecided before nodding, head ducking down to hide his own eyes and I frowned when I saw his hands quivering as if he wanted to scratch at something. He turned and began to walk off and I hurried after him.

“Jimin…” I reached forward to grasp at his hand and he jolted, coming to a pause as if he’d just realized I was with him. “Are you ok?” I asked.

Before he could stutter out a response, a door flung open and a woman strutted out, her head held high and fingers clutching at her purse in a way that screamed that she didn’t belong here.

We paused as the woman sniffed, her aquiline nose twitching as if she smelt something disgusting and turned to the man who had followed her out, clearly her husband as he was wearing a matching suit to her dress, his own more somber expression cast down.

“I don’t know what to do with you, I really don’t.” she said, loud voice echoing down to where Jimin and I stood as I saw horrified, Namjoon exiting the room as well. He was wearing his glasses again but they looked too big on his pinched face as he slumped in on his own body, trying to appear as small as he could in front of the stare of his parents.

“We did everything for you. Birthed you, fed you, warmed you and gave you everything you could ever need, or ask for and what do we get in return? You’re always running from us? Or the fact that You picking that damn tinkling on that piano and computer thing than work…? What are you going to gain in life Namjoon? We thought sending you here was going to straighten you out but if it’s not then just…just stay here!” the woman snapped at her son, heels clacking as she backed away, scorn on her face from her only son as her husband tried to shush her, already having spotted us gazing at them wide eyed.

Even Namjoon caught us standing there, eyes landing on his father to see if he’d defend his son but when nothing came from the man he sniffled. Immediately his mother scoffed. “Oh please, stop with your crocodile tears Namjoon, you’re a grown man for god’s sake.” She spat before turning away from both men, walking away before she looked up and saw us.

Her eyes trailed over us, disdainful before she rolled her eyes at our less than pearly appearances, shoving between us. I saw Namjoon’s father shake his head at something Namjoon mumbled and then he followed his wife, not even looking at us.

There was silence for a while.

“Hyung,” Jimin called but by the time I looked around, Namjoon was already gone.

The sky soon darkened with the onset of dusk, small twinkles of stars lighting the broad deep blue expanse, visible through the minimum amount of light pollution.

Hoseok, who’d returned from his session looking less than bubbly walked along side me as we took a late walk around the garden, following a path of lantern like light posts along the walkway. His neck was tilted down; face pensive as I told him about what Jimin and I had witnessed in the afternoon.

“You should’ve seen his face, Hobi. He looked like he was crying.” I muttered.

“Namjoon always cries when it comes to his parents…and I don’t blame him. If they were my family I’d cry too…or run away from home.” He said, eyes fixed on his shoes.

“How can parents be so cruel to their own son?”

“I guess it’s about the control. Some people are like that. They like having control over their surroundings; be it people or just things. They start viewing people as things too. Especially if they’re their own kids…they see it as some sort of morbid ownership.”

“It’s sickening.”

“That’s one word for it.” Hoseok said.

He stopped under one light before sighing, a hand coming up to rub against his haggard face. “It’s getting late. You should get inside.” He said.

I nodded, starting to walk back when I looked around at him. “What about you?” I asked.

He started, looking at me guiltily. “I’ll be right there. I just need…I’ll take one more round. Now go or else Yoongi will come looking for you.” he said, a wry smile splitting his face and I chuckled, imagining Yoongi’s small face, reddening with outrage as he snarled about having been the one to get scolded if his group members went out of line.

“See you inside?” I asked finally.

He nodded before shoving his hands back in his pockets, walking off again as I retreated my steps.

Just as Hoseok had said, Yoongi was the only one up in the common room, his feet tapping out a beat as he waited for us to come back.

“Well, one of you is back.” he said, eyes rolling and I smiled. “Yeah, sorry, did the others go to bed already?” I asked. He nodded, stretching his arms over his head.

“I had to kick Taehyung out because he ‘wanted to wait for Hobi Hyung’” he imitated the younger boy. “Where is he?” he asked.

“Taking one more round…I think he needs to clear his head.” I mused. There was a pause as Yoongi lowered his hooded eyes.

“I can understand. Anyway, the head matron told me to tell you to get cleaned up and go to bed as soon as you came in. you better go before she comes to check on you like your grandmother.” He said.

I nodded, a yawn escaping me which had Yoongi smirking but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of retaliating before I was exiting the room, going to retrieve my toiletries and going to the communal sink room to get ready for bed.

As I inspected my bare face in the mirror, brush rotating mechanically in my mouth I thought about the events of the day. Namjoon’s crumpled face, Jimin’s feverish hands, Hoseok’s exhausted form…they all swirled in my brain.

I’m hoping they can live their lives better.

I recalled wishing that for them once to Dr. Sihyuk and sighed, switching off the lights to go to bed.

It wasn’t until I was back in my own bed till I realized I’d left my toiletries on the sink counter. I groaned, face burying into the pillow as I contemplated going for them. If I didn’t, I might get a scolding or have them stolen and I didn’t have any new ones.

I huffed in annoyance at myself, putting on slippers and slipping out of my room, glancing around to see if any of the patrollers were around. The coast being clear, I quickly began to tip toe towards the washroom.

The sterile, white tiles froze the under of my feet as I tried to sneak into the bathroom. The lights were on still, the sounds of a few dripping taps echoing around me as I looked at the sink I’d used to see if my small bag of bathroom supplies was still there.

Thankfully, the clear baggie was still on the counter where I’d left it, my toothbrush visible through the gap between the zippers.

Moving quickly to it, I grasped the sling handle around it, slipping it over my wrist as I swung it towards me in relief. Now I wouldn’t be scolded or have to go ask the head nurse for a new set of toilet things.

The haze of worry over my belongings gone, I stopped, focus shifting on to other things…like why the light was on and why I could hear a steady stream of water from one of the inside bathing areas.

I hesitated, my bare toes curling in apprehension as I contemplated if I should be inching forward to investigate why someone had kept a tap running. It was too late for someone to take a bath or clean.

Slow trickles of fear teased at the edge of my mind as I reached the partition. Taking a deep breath, I took a quick peak around the corner.

The look was too quick to see anything properly but I saw the small tiled bathtub in one of the section overflowing, a steady flow of water gushing out of the copper tap on it head. Sighing, I walked in and then stopped, eyes widening in horror and shock when I caught what I’d missed earlier.

Feet hung from the edge of the tub, a body completely submerged in the depths of the waters as the water continued to hit the surface, distorting the view of the face but I already knew who it was.

“Jimin!” I screamed, panic erupting from my throat as I lunged forward, slipping on the water a little as I hurriedly shut off the water, my shaky fingers spinning the tight tap the other way as the jet of water slowed the stopped, letting me see my friend.

Jimin’s eyes were closed, head resting against the floor of the bath tub as his hands lay peacefully on his stomach as if he hadn’t even tried to fight for breath. His mouth was parted a little, small bubbles coming out from them as the remaining air in his lungs escaped him. “No, no, no,” I muttered feverishly, dunking my arms in to try and pull out the boy.

It wasn’t easy. Jimin’s body weighed down; with the way I could find no traction in raising him up to break him away from the water’s surface.

“Help! Please! Someone help us!” I screamed over my shoulder as loudly as I could, praying someone – anyone – could hear me.

Returning my attention to Jimin I gave a mighty tug to his head, finally managing to tug his head over the water level, enough to get his mouth and nose out so he could breathe.

If he can even breathe

I snapped out of the terrifying thought as I entered the tub myself, the freezing water chilling me to my bones as I leant him against me trying to hold him up while I tried to settle his feet into the tub so I could pull him up.

“Jimin, Jimin, come on, please, breathe,” I shouted, wrapping my body around his frozen one, rubbing at his wrist to get blood circulation going.

“Oh my god, please help!” I screamed one more time before I heard the slapping of bare feet running across the tiles.

The next moment, Namjoon was crashing around the corner, glasses askew on the edge of his nose; eyes puffy and mouth wide open as he stared at the scene before him.

“Y/N, what the fuck!” He yelled, the expletive falling out of his lips when he saw the younger boy cradled against me.

“Help, Namjoon, help!” I said, desperately and Namjoon rushed forward, his own arms dunking deep into the water. His stronger arms grasped Jimin’s legs and he swiftly lifted him out of the tub, laying him out against the side, hands coming back to pull me out as we crashed next to the passed out boy.

“Is…he…?” Namjoon stuttered.

I bent my head to clutch Jimin’s face close to mine. “I don’t know…I don’t know, get someone! We need an ambulance!” I shook the boy even as Namjoon stood there, shivering and gaping.

“Go!” I yelled and he startled to life, falling back before he too was shouting out for help as he ran out.

I clung to Jimin as I shook, hot tears springing to my eyes.

“No, please, not you, not you too!” I whispered against Jimin’s cold cheek as I cried against him.

“Y/N, they’re calling an ambulance, Dr. Sihyuk and the head nurse are coming. Yoongi told no one to come in…hey, are you alright?”

I felt hands grip my shoulders before I was being yanked to the side but I stayed put, unable to unwrap myself from around Jimin. “Hey, let him go, we need to get him on his back.” I heard from far away as another, much more stronger arm finally managed to pull me away.

I heard a raspy voice muttering comforting words in my ears as Taehyung tucked me against his chest, uncaring of the way I was soaking him too but I heard nothing, a white noise filling my ears, ringing through my head as my eyes blurred.

I was suddenly back in my hospital bed, Dr. Jin’s painfully familiar dark head and white coat brushing against me as he told me that my best friend had died in the car crash that I’d caused.

It had been my fault then…

Was this my fault too? I’d seen Jimin today; saw the now disturbingly obvious cues. The feverish shaking of his hands, the way he wanted to scratch at himself…the wide, lost eyes that didn’t seem to see anything.

my vision tunneled, breathing stuttered as sounds started coming from far, far away.

“Hyung, hyung! I think she’s having a panic attack! She’s shaking!” I heard someone shout before I was slumping to the cold floor, loud pants frothing from my mouth.

#namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #namjoon #bts #bts rm #asylum

[frecklesandthenerd]

Exploring Macau and Saying Goodbye to Hong Kong

On Friday, we went to Macau. We had gone back and forth on whether to go, but in the end decided that we wanted to complete our trifecta of Not China while we were in the area. Macau is...very odd. It was a Portugese colony starting in the 1500s, and now it’s the gambling capital of Asia, with an annual gaming revenue seven times larger than Vegas. Many of the Vegas casinos were also there - we took a shuttle from the ferry to the Venetian, just to see what it was like. It was exactly the same as Vegas, just...more. We spent a very surreal hour finding a place to sell us egg tarts and eating them along the canal, and then took several more minutes to find a way out of the casino.

The Grand Canal in the Venetian (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A quick note about egg tarts - they are traditionally Portugese, and Macau and Hong Kong adopted them from the Portugese settlers. They are absolutely wonderful - eggy custard inside a flaky, buttery pie dough. I determined during our time there that even a bad egg tart was good, but the good ones are really amazing. I am excited to keep trying them in Portugal.

Egg Tarts from Lord Stow’s (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The Portugese colonization of of Macau created a city with a curious combination of traditionally Chinese and Portugese architecture and religious buildings. There are a lot of temples, and a lot of churches. There are a lot of colorful European buildings with ornate balconies, and a lot of narrow streets with Chinese neon signs. This melding created some of the first recognized fusion food, as well as some interesting fusion architecture. Parts of the city are very charming. Then, when you get near the casinos, it just all gets very weird.

Covered escalators taking visitors between a foodie neighborhood and the casinos (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Colorful buildings (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A canopy-covered set of stairs that I absolutely loved (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A moderately creepy metal man on the porch of an old house (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We next went to Senado Square, which was decorated for the 70th anniversary of the People’s Republic of China (PRC). We also got some free beer for World Tourism Day, which was pretty great.

Decorations for the 70th anniversary of the PRC (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Large chunks of Macau are UNESCO World Heritage Sites. There’s an entire historical walk of buildings from Macau’s past, and one of them is the Ruins of St. Paul’s, which is the facade of a 17th century Portugese church. The church was destroyed twice between the 1600s and 1800s, and eventually they stopped rebuilding it. There are giant colorful bunnies out front, and I have no idea why. Macau seems to have a thing for rabbits?

Approaching the Ruins of St. Paul’s (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Yes, the bunnies were as weird and surreal as this picture appears (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Looking down on (and through) the Ruins of St. Paul’s (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A piano in a clear glass box that was drawing all kinds of musically talented tourists (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The Grand Lisboa from the 17th century Fortaleza do Monte (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Walking under decorations for the 70th anniversary (Photo/Jason Rafal)

If you go to Macau, I highly recommend walking around and getting a feel of each distinct, yet somewhat blended area - the casinos, the historical sites, and the “normal” streets where people live.

Views of Macau (Photo/Jason Rafal)

More views of Macau (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Looking up at the Grand Lisboa casino (Photo/Jason Rafal)

After we got back from Macau, we spent some more time wandering the city and waterfront in Hong Kong.

Heading to the metro in Hong Kong (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We’ve decided to start taking self portraits on trips (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Looking out at the waterfront (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Saturday was our last day in Hong Kong, and we spent it eating, walking around, and generally appreciating the city.

A majestic heron (Photo/Jason Rafal)

For breakfast we went to Australia Dairy Company, which has very little to do with Australia except that the founder may have started it when he got back from traveling there. It’s a traditional cha chaan teng, which is a type of restaurant in Hong Kong that’s focused on efficiency - they get you in, seat you at a table with strangers, give you a menu, take your order (in our case, look at which things we pointed to), bring you food, bring you a check, and expect you to leave basically immediately. The entire process takes about 15 minutes, and is rather overwhelming for westerners who don’t know what’s going on. My general advice, if you don’t want to get yelled at in a language you probably don't know, is to not ask questions or impede the process at all. Just order something, and it will be delicious.

Australia Dairy Company is famous for their scrambled eggs (because apparently Hong Kong is really into fluffy scrambled eggs for some reason). We walked in and were immediately handed English menus, because we’re giant white people, and sat down. The normal crowd orders off of Chinese menus that are under the table glass, and that menu is a lot larger, but we were happy to get the #1 and see what we got (we expected the scrambled eggs and toast, and got that but also macaroni).

After we were seated, five friends who had worked together in Hong Kong and were having a reunion were sat at our table. They were great - they asked to take pictures of our English menus, which had a cover they had never seen, and when we got the macaroni we weren’t expecting, they told us that it was indeed part of what we had ordered. They also asked how we heard about the restaurant, which I consider to be a good sign from locals, and took a picture of us under the disapproving glare of an employee.

Our breakfast (and a disapproving waiter) (Photo/Random Guy at Australia Dairy Company)

The scrambled eggs and thick white bread toast were delicious, and although I wasn’t expecting macaroni soup with ham for breakfast, that was delicious as well. Add in the milk tea at the end of the meal, and we walked away impressed, happy, and very full of liquid.

After breakfast, we took a walk to see the flamingos who apparently lived in the park next to our hotel. They were there, along with some turtles.

Flamingos doing those super weird things they do with their legs (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Sunbathing turtles (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We decided to risk taking the train to the airport, since the protest activity had so far matched what Ed had told us. Hong Kong and Taipei both have a great feature where you can check into your flight and check your bags from the downtown train station, but we decided to keep our bags with us in case. In a somewhat amusing turn of events, this made things somewhat more difficult - we didn’t have our real tickets yet, and the airport security was tightly controlling who got off the train and was allowed into the airport terminal. I only had a flight confirmation on my phone, and was getting worried that it wouldn’t be enough, but eventually they decided we were clearly just Americans going home and let us through.

I think I have to close by saying that we feel incredibly lucky to have been able to visit Hong Kong when we did. The protests started again the day after we left, and the first protester was shot with live ammunition as the clashes with police escalated. From a logical point of view, it will be very interesting to see what happens to the region, but from an emotional place, we’re heartbroken to see the violence that’s tearing the city apart.

[powerfulweak]

Blame @blitzdrake for putting this idea in my head

OMG Check Please AU where, through some sort of magic or science fiction mumbo jumbo, Bitty gets a chance to travel back in time and meet a young, pre-rehab, still-playing-in-Juniors Jack.

Bitty is just shocked by how different Jack is. He seems so happy and hopeful and not at all like the man haunted by his past actions that Bitty knows. It breaks Bitty’s heart, because Jack has the world at his feet at this moment and in just a short while he’s going to lose almost everything. Bitty can’t just stand by and let that happen. What’s the harm in one little anonymous email to Bad Bob? Just letting him know that his son’s prescription drug usage may be getting a little out of hand and maybe he should intervene?

Bitty knows he’s done a good thing for the man he loves, but when he returns to present time, it’s… different.

Oh, he’s still at Samwell and playing on the hockey team there, but things have changed. The team has changed.

Their record is average at best, none of the shining seasons they had the last two years.There are players he doesn’t recognize navigating between the rooms in the haus and the tension between the people he does know is palpable.  There is a sense of relief when he get to his own room to see it’s just as he left it, however his little Falconers Minifig of Jack is missing.

It doesn’t take Bitty long to put together that his intervention on Jack’s behalf in the past had repercussions. Without his stint in rehab, Jack went first in the draft and ended up on the Aces with Kent. A little googling reveals that Jack and Kent are in a very public, very tumultuous relationship, with both men having tabloid-fodder reputations as party boys.

Bitty wants to cry when he catches a glimpse of a photo of a hollow-cheeked, glassy-eyed Jack, visibly drunk, with his arm looped over a laughing Kent’s shoulder.

Bitty also discovers, to his dismay, that Jack’s absence at Samwell has affected all of the members of the hockey team. Without Jack’s friendship to anchor him to Samwell, Shitty transfers to Harvard a year early to focus on his pre-law program. Jack’s talent on the ice boosted not only the team’s standing, but their morale. Without that, tensions mount between the players and Ransom and Holster, thrust into the roles of co-captains a year earlier without Jack’s mentorship, feel the strain in their own friendship. At the end of the semester, They will go their separate ways, unlikely to reconnect again. Chowder had wanted to join the team before entering Samwell, but upon seeing the bitterness amongst the players and the anxiety that seemed to permeate it, decides to join the Lacrosse team instead.

About the only two people who remain the same are Dex and Nursey, who snipe at each other constantly, as usual.

Bitty steels himself, determined to make the situation right. He confides everything in Lardo, who seems to accept the entire thing in stride because “it's not the craziest thing I've heard today.” She comes along for support and they skip their classes and an upcoming game to fly to Las Vegas in hopes of talking to Jack. Bitty might be a complete stranger to the man in this timeline, but he still loves Jack and, dammit, he has to fix this… somehow.

They score VIP tickets to an Aces game, thanks to a connection of Lardo’s, and then manage to get into an after party with some of the players. When Bitty sees this Jack in person for the first time, his breath catches; he’s in even worse shape than he’d thought. He's skinny, the sharp cut of his cheek bones even more pronounced and the bags under his eyes making it evident sleep is not a priority. There’s a faraway look in his gaze, too, like he’s in the room but not present. Kent is at his side, but is focus is firmly on the younger man blatantly flirting with him.

Bitty makes his way over to Jack, introducing himself and saying he’s a big fan (all the while, trying to keep his voice from shaking).

Jack lifts his head and gives Bitty a bored onceover, grunting some sort of greeting, then walking away without another look. Bitty is gobsmacked. He’s used to sweet, bashful Jack Zimmerman, this person is completely different: cold, disaffected, and apathetic about everything around him.

Bitty sulks in the corner with Lardo, who has struck up a conversation with a local gallery owner. He tries to keep eyes on Jack, but eventually loses him in the mass of the crowd. Around 1:30 am, he tells Lardo he’s heading back to the hotel room. He starts toward the door, but a strong hand loops around his arm and he finds himself being pulled close to a wasted Jack Zimmerman.

Jack flashes a lacivious smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he wraps an arm around Bitty’s shoulders, asking why he’s leaving so soon and if he wants to come back to his suite to continue the party. When he leans in close, Bitty notices the scent of rum on his breath and the way his pupils are just a little too large. Bitty jumps as Jack’s hand travels down and squeezes his ass.

“Parse doesn't mind…” Jack slurs as Bitty tries to push back. “Hell, he'd probably like to watch. You into that?”  Bitty feels sick, not because of Jack propositioning him, but because it’s his fault that Jack is the shell of the man he loves.  

Bitty agrees to go up to his room. Maybe he can talk some sense into him or explain to Jack that this isn’t him.

Jack disappears into the bathroom almost immediately. Bitty can’t help the nagging feeling in his brain that something is wrong. He pushes open the door, discovering Jack in front the counter, shaking a small handful of pills into his palm. Bitty rushes forward and smacks them out of his hand, screaming at Jack to fucking stop it, stop killing himself.

Jack’s blank expression goes hard and he hisses back that it's none of Bitty’s fucking business what he does. He’s just another stupid puck bunny looking to hop on the Z-Train. The insult feels like a slap in the face. Jack grabs the pill bottle and pushes past him, charging out the door. Bitty runs after him, yelling for him to stop, but Jack is in the elevator and heading back downstairs before he can even reach the elevator bay.

He searches all over the hotel and casino floor, asking everyone he sees if they’ve seen Jack, but no one has. Shouting and a mass of paramedics running by suddenly grab his attention and Bitty’s stomach drops as he sees a stretcher being wheeled through the casino, an unconscious Jack strapped to it. Bitty sinks to the floor in despair, tears streaming down his face. He rests his head on his arms, sobs shaking his body. Bitty considers himself a lapsed Baptist, but right now he hopes Jesus has his listening ears on. He falls asleep mid-prayer, mumbling pleas to please not let him die, please save him.

He wakes up to beeping. Soft, repetitive beeping. Bitty’s eyes flutter open and he immediately notices that he’s not sleeping on the casino floor but on a bed. A hospital bed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he a little green line bouncing happily on the bedside monitor.

“Bitty?” Bitty tries to turns his head, but a stab of pain flashes through it. His eyes dart to the side instead and he sees a rumpled Jack laying across the foot of the bed. His hair is a mess and he has two days of stubble across his face. He looks exhausted, but his expression is filled with relief and tears shine in the corner of his eyes.

“Jack?” Bitty croaks, his voice rough with disuse. He wants to ask a million questions, but he finds himself nearly tackled as Jack swallows him up in a hug, his body shaking as he cries.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Jack mumbles shakily into his shoulder. It takes a few minutes for Jack to explain about the car accident and the BMW that ran into them on their way back from Providence. Despite the fact that he’d hit the rear driver’s side of the car, Bitty had retained the worst injuries when he’d cracked his skull on the window.

“How long was I out?” he says quietly.

“3 days.” Jack says. “They medically induced the coma to decrease the swelling on your brain.”

“What about you?” Bitty asks, the memory of the lost and drugged-out Jack returning in full force.

“I’m fine,” Jack says with a watery chuckle, brushing his fingers lightly across his cheek. “Just a couple scratches and bruises, really.”

“That’s not what…” Bitty starts, but just looking into the warm gaze of Jack, his Jack, is enough to cut him off. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” A happy tear slips down Jack’s cheek and he wraps Bitty up in another hug.

#omgcheckplease #Time Travel AU #Angst #Drug Use CW #Drinking CW #Overdose CW

[tessa9879-blog]

Hello . You might call me Tessa.

Here I upload my stories in English. My native language is Bulgarian and I have a profile with stories in Bulgarian. Here, I'm just trying to distribute them in English too. Excuse me if there are any errors.

*************************                      

Chapter 1

Bulgaria, Sofia Airport, 2 years earlier

I stood by my suitcase and stamped nervously with my leg. I waited to announce the flight to London and I was losing patience. At the insistence of my parents, we came 2 hours earlier, in each case.

      - Uh! - I cracked.

"Easy, Kathy, stay a little longer," my mother said. I just rolled my eyes. When I knew I had to go to London, at first I was both opposed to my father. "What? London? England? In another country? Absurd!". But after many disputes and negotiations, we finally reached a consensus. Still, I was going for 5 days, not for 5 years - Are you sure you took everything, did you forget something? "continued Mummy.

"You've been asking me for the 18th time," I said, grinning. "Everything is in the suitcase... And now you calm down, you will not feel when these five days will pass. Still, they will not be hanging over there. Tomorrow is the interview, on Thursday is the concert and on Friday I go home ...

     "Wonderful concert," my father murmured.

     "Ah, please, no offense - I looked bad.

     - All right, good, peace! - be peace some other time - Tell her again, who were these bunnies ... "my father reiterated.

- One Direction - I rushed him roughly - and they are not skewers ... they are ... Gods ...

My father made a face as if he was vomiting.

     "Have you noticed that the bigger you get, the more upset?"

     - You too - I said, and I put it on, maybe we wanted to argue - very well - And can you explain to me how my song with my songs was in your car?

     "I have no idea what you're talking about - my father was outraged. I narrowed my eyes and continued.

     "A few days ago I noticed that the disk was gone, and the day he was coming back from work, you listened to their song ... and sang! I pointed it theatrically with my finger

- Innocent until proven otherwise! He turned to Mother for help. Now I was indignant, because I really had a few days ago heard him listening to What makes you beautiful and singing her.

Mom only shook her head and said,

      "You are such children both ..."

      "Please passengers to London head to a third terminal. - announced from the airport.

I jumped as if I had been dropped. Ours also got up and hugged me hard.

      - Take care! "Dad said.

"And you do not talk to strangers ..." I read his tone, and my mother frowned behind my neck.

     "More seriously. but she was also going to laugh at her. At least she had faith, but for my father and 50 to become, I will still be his "little girl". Mom also hugged me. "Call when you arrive.

     "Okay, okay, come on Friday," Dad interrupted. "Come on, if you miss the plane, I'm not taking the third world in the next 10 years.

   - 10 minimum! I kissed his cheek and walked away. I turned in front of the terminal, waved them, and motioned for them to leave. Then I boarded the plane.

I was getting a second-class ticket. I quickly found my place and settled down. I had never been on a plane before, and I was getting a little nervous. That's why I pulled out the headphones and played music - that was the only way to reassure. I closed my eyes. Hell, I thought, I'm the biggest lucky man in the world! I had won a One Direction concert ticket, and before that I was going to be part of a show, telling myself about how I got here. And if I had to be honest, I had no idea how. Just one day while I was listening to More Than This, I decided I had to share it in a tweeting, I did not know what made me, but I noticed the boys, and finally I wrote, "These are the words every girl dreams of listening Thank you guys now I will never find a boyfriend! " The video I was publishing was from their concert and they sang live and it was, in a nutshell, unique. After this tweet, my followers quickly grew up, and the tweit itself was ripped a few thousand times. A few days later I received a message from the official tweed of the band. One of their managers congratulated me and sent me a poll to complete. I naturally filled it out immediately and sent it. It was strange to me that I had to write my phone number, but I added it. I was in shock when they called me after 2 days told me I was winning a ticket for their concert. I shot directly into the seventh sky with happiness. Of the millions of their fans around the world, I had won !!! The managers would have organized my stay in England to bear my expenses and sent me to Bulgaria on Friday. These people hardly knew, but my dream came true - I would have seen the boys ... I WOULD LOVE THE ONE DIRECTION CONCERT !!!

     I did not feel when the plane took off, nor the trip to England, I was asleep. But I felt the nudge of the woman sitting next to me.

"Sleeping, we've arrived," she said, smiling softly.

     - Thanks! "I said sleepy, and I rose. When I got off the plane, I was really scared - I did not know who would be waiting for me or where to go.

     My fears turned out to be in vain - there was a bright group standing at the meeting. A young girl stood and held a white sheet on which my name was written in Bulgarian. Beside her, a man looked at his watch and looked curiously. These two were surrounded by four healthy men who held away a few journalists. Not to see him, my arrival was a public secret. I pulled the suitcase and went straight to the girl

- Hello! - I said in English. She looked at me, smiled and began to spit in Bulgarian.

     "Hi, I'm Maria, but you can tell me Mary. I'll be your translator. This is Paul, he is ...

     - I know who it is - I broke it - Sorry, I do not want to be rude, but I speak perfectly English! - it was really like this - my English was like a native language.

     - Great! - Mary was not offended at all - I'm not even for a while, I'll only help you on the show. She turned to Paul Paul, that's Catherine.

     - Hello! he said as we shuffled and looked at his watch again. "Come on, it's time to go, we'll be late for the show."

     - What show? - I asked.

- What you're going to be in! Mary answered, handing my suitcase to one of the men.

      - What ?! I almost cried out, and Paul turned and looked at me.

      - Speak English?

      "Perfect," I answered him rather quietly.

      "Oh, that's gonna be really fun," and a sly smile appeared on his lips. "Anyway, there's a change in the plan the show will be shooting today," he began to explain as we walked toward the exit.

      - But tomorrow ... - I felt how I started to mumble - In the sense, I want at least to wash and change my clothes

"Then you will be bathed in the hotel - we were already outside, opened the door to a huge black jeep and said good-bye - I'm really sorry!

I shrugged my shoulders and climbed, and while we were traveling to the studio I was blinking out the window.

     - Well, how are you feeling? He tried to talk to Mary.

     "Okay," I lied. Actually, I was not good at all. I was seriously panicked. I thought the interview would be tomorrow, and I'll have enough time to adjust mentally for it. But obviously I would not have this opportunity.

The trip to the studio lasted for 30-40 minutes. We stopped in front of a tall building in the center of London, then climbed to the fifth floor. There was the studio there, and there was real chaos inside. There were people running back and forth, chambers and microphones spread. Maria and Paul took me to a dressmaker and told me I had half an hour to prepare, wished my success, and left me alone. About 5 minutes I was dull looking at the door and blinking at the rags. "Oh my God, what did I do?" I thought, and then came out of the trance that I had fallen into. I looked around for my suitcase, but he was gone. Shit, I'm gonna have to go out with the clothes I wore. I was wearing a white adidas, and black, wider and without back, dark blue jeans and sneakers. Not so bad, I thought, in other circumstances, I would wear something like this. There was another small room in the dressing room and rightly assumed it was the toilet. I went in and washed my face and hands. Good thing the make-up was in my handbag. I was rarely making up and generally not using a background, but at the moment I was pale as a ghost, and it would be a good idea to put a little color on my face. I emphasized my eyes with a line of eye and a black pencil, and then I put on and spiraled. I dropped my hair from the tail and cut it. I'm not the first beauty, but I'm not too ugly, or at least I thought so. I have big blue eyes, full lips, chick nose, the shape of my face is neither round nor oval, but some cross between the two, I can not determine. I weigh 50 kilos and I am 1.60 high. As a whole, my appearance is not in the "classic beauty" category, but the health is. I only like my hair - black, with a slight reddish tinge reaching the middle of my back.

Somebody knocked on the door and I jumped. It was Mary.

     "After 5 minutes we're on the air, are you ready?" Wow, you look amazing. Come on ...

He did not wait to answer, grabbed my arm and pulled me out. Fuck him! Fuck him! Fuck him! Let me note that, at first, my vocabulary was too blossoming from swearing, and I swore more than necessary, one of my many shortcomings.

      "Listen now," Mary said, "Alan will say your name, you'll go out and sit next to me, I'll wait for you there

 591/5000

Samo kimnakh, vŭobshte ne razbrakh kakvo mi kaza. Meri me potupa okurazhitelno po ramoto i izchezna. I na men mi ideshe da izbyagam, no nyamashe na kŭde - pred men be stsenata, taka da kazha, ot dyasno beshe publikata, vodeshtiyat sedeshe na malko divanche, a do nego imashe drugo po-golyamo, i ot lyavo, zad golemiya divan, imashe video stena. I v tozi moment vodeshtiya izvika imeto mi, publikata pochna da rŭkoplyaska, a Meri se beshe nastanila do nego. Imakh chuvstvoto, che shte umra, no misŭlta, che khilyadi bikha ubili, za da sa na moeto myasto, me uspokoi i vdŭkhna sili. Usmikhnakh se izlyazokh v svetlinite na prozhektorite.

I just nodded, did not know what he said to me at all. Mary patted my shoulder encouragingly and disappeared. And I was about to flee, but there was not where - the scene was in front of me, so to speak, to the right of the audience, the leader was sitting on a small sofa and beside him there was another one, and on the left, behind the big sofa, there was a video wall. And at that moment the guy called out my name, the audience started applauding, and Mary was sitting next to him. I had the feeling that I was going to die, but the thought that thousands would kill to be in my place calmed me and inspired me. I smiled and went out into the spotlight.

 I sat down as Mary instructed me and looked at the guy. He stared at me.

    "Is this the girl who will never find her boyfriend?" - he pointed at me and watched the audience, I started to laugh. "Are you sure she is not a mistake?" - they are all grinning - Are you Katerina Petrova?

    "In all my shine," I said in Bulgarian, and I laughed again. Mary translated. I did not understand why I was a translator, I was almost certain they were playing a game. Whatever it is, I'd get involved.

   "I do not believe," Alan said, pointing me to his finger, "Who are you?"

I frowned.

"So, the guy stopped grinning," Katerina, tell us about yourself.

    - My name is Katerina Petrova, 22 years old, from Bulgaria ... and I love One Direction.

The audience clapped and I began answering questions. In about 15 minutes, Alan interrupted me.

    "Katherine ... a very long name, can I call you Kate or Kat?" - I nodded - Great! And now I have a little surprise for you, actually a few, but we'll start with the first one.

Oh my God! Surprises? They knew how to make a man look on his fingernails.

    "So ... turn to the video wall. "Alan went on.

I turned and fed - there were Liam, Louis, Nile, Harry and Zane ...

     - Hello! "everyone said, and I stood with my mouth open and lost my mind.

     "We're One Direction ..." Liam began.

     - And you won ... - Louis.

"Ticket for our ..." "Nile.

     - Concert on Thursday. - Harry.

    - We love you ... - Zane.

    "Until recently ..." they said again, and waved. The video is over. I felt my eyes fill with tears.

    - Are you crying? - Alan asked - Oh God ... she's crying!

I winked and began to grin.

   "It was ... it was ..." but obviously I had no words to go on. At that moment Alan became serious.

    "Now, can I ask you something?" - I nodded - Do you speak English?

I started to laugh again.

    - I speak English more than well, 7 years of language learning, and 14-15 speak it freely.

    "And if I ask you in the next half-hour to do that you do not understand a word, would you do that?"

Of course. "I agreed, I would have finally figured out this nonsense of translating.

     "But before that, I want you to sing," Alan said.

     - What ?! No no no! - I immediately objected - I sing terrible!

     "Please, that's about the next surprise ..." he winked at me in a conspiratorial manner. I shook my head and tried to argue - unsuccessfully. I did not understand how, but this guy convinced me and while I was feeling I was already with a microphone in my hand and I was about to sing More Than This ...

     "I'm really singing horribly," I warned, and he snapped his ears, which made me wander.

     - Do not laugh but sing ...

The piano played somewhere and I sang the chorus of my favorite song, hoping I would not show up ... very much. The lights went out and only one projector lit up right in me. I felt stupid, did not see it, and I was not a singer and could not sing why did I make myself hang out? I sang the chorus and I glared at the lead Alan - he only smiled, Mary smiled. The piano was still playing. At that moment I heard 5 to the pain known voices that began to sing. The lights went on, and I was surrounded by the incredible guys from One Direction. I saw them alive ... from flesh and blood ... Oh my God! Oh my gosh! I had not dreamed about it ...

They stood around me and they were singing, smiling, probably by my stupid expression, but at that moment I did not know where I was! I stopped singing, the audience clapped and they sat down on the couch ... beside me. I kept watching them without blinking. I had the feeling that if it blinked and they would disappear. Alan said something, but I did not hear it, the boys began to laugh. I turned to Mary and asked her to pinch me. Everyone was already grinning.

- Oh, please, Harry, I'm gonna pinch her - she does not believe you're here! "And Harry, sitting right next to me, immediately reached out and pinched me. I just melted. "And now the last surprise," Alan went on, "which is for all of you," he pointed to us six. "We've decided with your managers to do something for you ... You get a fifteen-day rest, and this lady will enjoy your company.

What? 15 days? With these amazing guys? It all became clear to me - I was dead and this was heaven ...

The guys seemed to be really happy.

"But ... I have to warn you - she does not speak an English word - the boys looked at me horribly, I could hear their thoughts," What the hell are we going to do for 15 days with a guy we can not even communicate with? " I was grinning, that's what the plan was ... Alan continued, "But I warn you, she's a real devil, so be careful! "They smiled a little nervously, and Harry said something of the sort that we would use the body language, everyone laughed, but they looked at me strangely, as if I were coming from another planet, not from another country.

I did not say anything I just smiled and did not stop wondering about my luck ...

After the show, Paul gathered us and loaded us on the jeep. Before I got in, Mary was shining brightly, it seemed no less than me. Overall, the trip was epic, at least for me. We were going to a hotel complex on the outskirts of London - I understood that while I was doing that I did not understand.

     "What did we deserve?" Zane asked, "I do not think you were really excited."

     "I have no idea," Nilel said.

     "Keep it tight, it will not be that bad," Liam said, looking at me not very hopefully. I stared out the window and barely kept my laughter.

We arrived at the hotel at dusk. The complex was amazing, I had no words to describe it. From inside he was even more stunning. Apparently our luggage had already arrived because Paul gave us a sign to go straight up. The managers had rented an apartment on the top floor. The boys climbed to one of the lifts, and Paul and I in the other. Once we were alone, we started laughing.

    "Do not forget, they do not know you're talking English! - Paul reminded me.

    "What did they deserve?" - I asked the question that Zane was trying to do.

    "They are very fun, they like to make jokes ... Well, now we will have some fun with them.

We continued to laugh, but as soon as the elevator stopped again, we became serious. The crowds had already taken the apartment and settled on a table full of flavors. Paul showed me my room, wished us good night and left.

    - Well, now it's been interesting! - said Harry.

Everyone looked at me, and I sat down in a chair beside the table. Harry decided to officially introduce himself.

    "Haaari," said Leieam, Naayal, Luwie and Zeeeine. he pointed to the others.

I raised my eyebrows. I had not won a ticket for their concert, which means I was a fan, I knew all their songs, when and where they were born, I supposed to know their names. They did not seem to have this opinion. I decided to make an idiot, as they obviously thought of me.

"Haaari," I said, pointing to myself, Leieim, Naalal, Luwoy, Yane, and pointed at the others. Everyone laughed, even Zane, though he did not stutter, make a face and squeeze "O God!"

    "No, no, no," Harry said, pointing again, "Haari. - I rewrote it again - No! Hari ... - already shouting and patting his chest - I'm Harry!

   "Harry, stop doing a clown, he's hopeless," said Zane, pointing at me. Rough! Someone was sour. I frowned.

   "Harry, Liam, Louis, Nile ... Yeah," I pointed out to everyone by saying their names correctly, except for Zane. Everyone laughed without Mr. Sarditko.

   "You," he said, looking straight into my eyes.

   "Yane," he said.

   - Zane!

   - Yeah ..

   - Zane! - he knocked on the table, got up and sat down on the couch - He does not know he can not talk, but he has

- Zane! "He stumbled on the table, got up and sat down on the couch." He does not know he can not speak, he has his own room! he continued to groan.

I followed him with my mouth open. I grabbed a loaf and I found it. I hit his neck and he turned quickly.

    - Zane! "I growled, and I turned his back on the demonstration. The others went awry. I looked at Harry and pointed.

    - Catherine! - it was my turn to laugh now, it was hard for them to pronounce my name. I finally gave up, shaking my head. I looked at them questioningly.

    - Kate? I asked, and they agreed unanimously.

"Kate ..." Niall called me and pushed me a dish of food. I shook my head and signaled to them that I was going to sleep. I was too tired, the emotional day was telling her the word. I got up and walked to the room.

    "Kate another time," Zane snapped as I passed him. I looked at him devastatingly, and before I closed the door to the room, I ran out of it. His physiognomy was invaluable, and the laughter of the boys was heard for a long time.

I woke up early and my first job was to have a bath. I had my own bathroom, as opposed to the boys who had to use a common one. I allowed myself to swell under the shower and went out when I felt like jelly. I wound my hair with a towel, put on a T-shirt and boxer, put on my toothbrush with plenty of paste, and went out to have some coffee. It was my everyday ritual at home. Only it turned out I was not the only one who was annoying - Harry and Zane lay on the couch and stared at the TV. As I walked into the room, the two stood up.

"Oh God," Harry muttered, looking at me. I only waved and hurried to go to the kitchen, and they laughed. Hell, how could I forget I was not alone and I was walking around my pants ?!

   "You can not deny he has a cool asshole ..." I heard Harry speak to Zane.

   "I've seen even cooler." - it was the answer - Plus, her breasts are small.

   "You know brother, since you broke up with Perry you got scared. - Harry gave it back, and I sharpened my ears - She's very good girl, she's even terribly cute ... - They kept arguing, but I no longer listened to them - I was shocked.

Did you break up with Perry ?! Why? When? How? He was my favorite band, though in the last few hours he was trying to change that. With Perry they were an incredible couple and I was very happy about their happiness. But they are broken. That's where his mellow mood came from ...

    As I pondered the reasons for separating Zane and Perry, my coffee became ready. I picked it up in my glass and went to my room, but a door opened in the corridor and collided with Liam.

    "What about ..." he began, but he stopped when he saw me. I smiled and literally flew to my room. I heard them grinning. How could I have done so?

     I immediately put on my shorts, brushed my teeth, took the cigarette case, and went back to the living room with them.