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nctsworld · 3 years

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pedal to the metal

✩ jaemin x reader | mall au | arcade attendant!jaemin | fluff | 3.3k

SUMMARY ⇾ when the claw machine eats your money, jaemin, the cute arcade attendant, offers to play a game with you in lieu of a refund. little does he expect you to beat him. | based off of @mistymark’s nct mall employees post WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, bit of angst, jaemin is competitive, kissing in the epilogue RATING ⇾ teen+

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

Leaning over the glass counter filled with endless prizes, Jaemin holds out two large plushies, one in each of his hands.

“Pikachu or Spongebob?” He swivels his head to them individually before beaming down at the little girl in front of him.

With the alternating supervision of her parents, she’s been one of the recent regulars at the arcade and finally saved up enough tickets fo a decent prize, deciding to cash them in today. Her face lights up and targets in on one particular plushie, already inching towards it with open hands.

“Pikachu, Pikachu!” she squeals.

The worker’s smile deepens, “Great choice. Couldn’t have picked better myself.”

He laughs airily as she squeezes Pikachu like it’s the last thing she’ll ever love, bouncing up and down with joy. Today, the girl’s mom is with her and she holds her ecstatic daughter close to her leg, rubbing her arm warmly.

“So I guess I’ll see you two next week?” Jaemin asks.

“If she gets over Pikachu as fast as she did with Olaf, then probably yes,” the mom replies with a defeated head shake. “Thanks again, Jaemin. Say bye to the nice boy.”

“Bye, Jaemin!”

The mother and daughter wave good-bye with wide smiles, as did Jaemin. Giving prizes out and seeing the delightful reactions on the recipient’s face was one of the best parts of his job.

Oh, and so was being able to play all the arcade games for free.

For Jaemin, being the arcade attendant at the local mall was a dream come true. He was once in the same place as the little girl—always coming to the same arcade every day after school. Although he loved winning prizes (who doesn’t?), he also prided himself in being the best at every game, knowing all the secrets and strategies like the back of his hand. Dance Dance Revolution, Street Fighter, Beatmania, Time Crisis, Super Bike, Pac-Man… You name it, and Jaemin can wipe the floor with anybody. It’s why none of his friends liked to play the games with him, but they still had fun nonetheless.

“That girl is insane!” Chenle exclaims with a point of his thumb, strolling up to the counter. He’s one of Jaemin’s many friends and an everyday mall-goer. Jisung comes up next to him, also a friend and works at the mall’s McDonald’s. The mall was really a second home to them all.

Jisung bobs his head in disbelief. Then, he turns to face their worker friend.

“You’ve gotta admit she’s really good, right?”

The lanky figure cocks an eyebrow. “What are you guys talking about? I was busy giving out a prize to someone.”

The shortest individual of the three widens his eyes. “There was a girl who was just playing Super Bike. She kept kicking everyone’s ass, even us.”

Jisung nods fervently, “I was telling Chenle that she’s probably as good as you, maybe even better.”

Jaemin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “No one can beat me at Super Bike, you both know that.”

“You haven’t seen her play, though…” Chenle sighs dreamily, perching his chin into his palms, as he drifts off into space and replays the gameplay in his mind.

“I don’t know, Jaemin,” Jisung shrugs. He absentmindedly fiddles with the bundle of tickets left by the little girl. “It’s about time someone beat you at one of the games.”

Suddenly, Jaemin snatches the tickets from his hands, startling the younger boy. Said younger boy glances up to meet a pair of slitted, burning eyes. In an instant, Jaemin’s eyes melt and a cocky expression flashes by.

“Like I always say, I never lose.”

He begins to count the tickets, but the thought of someone being better than him makes him lose track.

After he finishes counting the tickets, he casually checks-up on the motorcycle racing simulator to see what all the fuss was about. To his disappointment, he is met with a young boy, playing by himself.

Jaemin makes a mental note to keep an eye and ear out for this mystery Super Bike girl.

A few days pass. You’re at the mall by yourself to kill some time and to procrastinate on studying. You spent a while at the bookstore already, so you decide to do something a little more fun.

At the bustling arcade, you’re quickly drawn towards the claw machine with the mountain of plushies. You know the odds of winning are low, but one round couldn’t hurt. Placing your money into the claw machine, you begin to fiddle with the joystick. However, nothing’s moving.

Your face crinkles in confusion, so you add money again, thinking that maybe it was a one-time fluke. Nope, definitely not a fluke because the claw still doesn’t work. You’re now two dollars down and you didn’t even get the chance to play.

Walking around the arcade, you try to find a worker, but to no avail. You stand in front of the glass counter, waiting for an attendant. While waiting, you’re peering at all the variety of prizes to be won and wish you were skilled and patient enough to obtain such things. It’s no wonder why the claw machine drew you in, at least that game filled you with a false sense of a fast and easy win.

After finishing a supervising round in the arcade, Jaemin notices a girl at the front counter. Actually, scratch that, a stunning girl—one that he hasn’t seen in the arcade before. He’d definitely remember you if you had. The ends of his mouth stretch and he strides towards you with a wind of confidence.

“Hi, do you need help with something?”

Jolting slightly, you’re taken aback by both the handsome figure and the question. You saw him earlier at one of the games, but it never crossed your mind that such a young, attractive guy like that would be the resident arcade attendant. You subconsciously do a double take, eyeing him up and down, causing Jaemin’s grin to become more cheeky.

“Hi, yeah,” You point to where you were previously. “I was trying the claw machine and it took my money, but it didn’t let me play any rounds.”

“Oh?” He scrunches his face and heads toward the machine. You follow behind. “We just fixed it a few weeks ago, that’s weird.”

At the claw machine, Jaemin feels around the machine, checking on the knobs and buttons, and even places a coin into it to test out your claim. He tinkers with the joystick, and realizes you’re right; the machine’s only taking money without allowing any plays.

So he kicks it. Hard.

You break out into a chortle. “Does that actually help?”

“Always works like a charm.”

Another kick, and more chortling.

Jaemin shifts his head towards you and places a hand on his chest. His eyes waver, searching around him as if someone would be listening, and lowers his voice in a hush.

“I’m a secret machine whisperer, you gotta trust me,” he says with a small wink, and you trust him by standing back and resuming to observe him with a fluttering heart.

The attendant tries the machine with money once more, but the kicking evidently didn’t help. This only leads Jaemin to increase the intervals of his kicking. Soon, kicking evolves into desperately shaking the contraption.

Bemused and shaking your head, you comment, “I don’t think your whispering is working very well.”

He attempts one last time, but to nobody’s surprise, it fails. He tapes an out of order sign onto the glass. With hands on his hips, he exhales a lengthy sigh.

“Sorry for your lost money. I can give you a refund.”

“Aw, no. It’s okay, it was only a couple of bucks. I was more so looking forward to playing the game, really.”

A lightbulb goes off in Jaemin’s head.

“Did you wanna play a game with me to make up for it instead?”

Although he enunciates the question slowly, cautious of your reply and potential rejection, there’s a contrasting smug expression on his face. Your teeth tug at your bottom lip, about to answer, but then you pout.

“Aren’t you working right now though?”

Jaemin shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s kind of slow at the moment and I can argue that I’m maintaining the game.”

“Like what you were just doing with the claw machine?”

“Exactly.”

Both of you laugh in unison, gazes converging together. If only the strong sparks flying between you two could somehow fix the claw machine... but then again, you would’ve never had a reason to speak to the beautiful boy in the first place.

“Sure, what game did you have in mind?”

Tapping a finger on his chin, Jaemin runs the possibilities in his head. What’s a game that he can easily impress you with his skills, but is also equally fun for you to play?

“Super Bike?” he offers.

You nod with a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.”

Thankfully, as the two of you arrive at the game, no one’s currently playing. You jump onto the left motorcycle, while Jaemin gets onto the right. He enjoys how you cutely sway back and forth, accustoming yourself to the fake motorbike. He gives you a quick breakdown of the controls, and tells you to focus only on the gas and brake since he’ll choose automatic transmission to make things easier for you. You hum with puffed cheeks, ready to play.

Following Jaemin’s choices of the easiest map level and transmission settings, the race immediately starts.

Jaemin can play Super Bike in his sleep, so he starts off the first half of the lap with his eyes on his screen, then for the second half, he looks over at you for a few moments. You’re glued to your screen. The glint in your eyes sparkles with pure amusement and an edge of competitiveness. He breathes in the enticing sight, especially as you bite your lip with heightened focus.

But then, flashes of red flare upon your face. Jaemin’s heart knocks nervously at his chest because the flashes are coming from the sign above your screen with the words ”RACE LEADER”. He’s dragged straight into the match again, not wanting to lose.

“Have you played this before?” he shouts over the background noises and music.

“Only a few times,” you shrug lightly. Your eyebrows raise as Jaemin catches up, trailing almost nose to nose with the end of your motorcycle, yet the finish line is approaching fast. Narrowing your eyes, you accelerate and curve around the last bit of the map without struggle. Before you know it, you reach the finish line right before Jaemin does.

As the first place win radiates from your screen, you pump your arms in the air and remove yourself from the bike.

On the other hand, Jaemin’s gaze is stuck on the screen, jaw hanging. The big two taunts him with every flicker.

“Well, that was fun. Thanks for the game—”

You’re about to ask for his name, but his odd reaction catches you off-guard. You take a step closer to him until someone cries out:

“That’s Super Bike girl!”

Swinging your head towards the origin of the cry, you see a boy jog over with a wave of his index finger. Chenle’s voice breaks the arcade attendant out of his frozen state. Jaemin whips his head towards you, still on the motorbike.

“You’re Super Bike girl?!” he echoes, eyebrows knitted.

“I already have a nickname around here?” you giggle. “I only played this game once a few days ago.”

Chenle asks him, “Did Biker Girl beat you?”

Jaemin avoids the inquiry, darting his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly. The friend passes the question onto you with owl eyes, and you shyly nod.

“Oh, my God, and I missed it?!” He huffs in disappointment, but then recollects himself as he takes a few steps toward you.

“Are you free after seven to come back and play again? Our friends need to witness this. This is history in the making.”

Immediately, Jaemin shoots daggers into Chenle. The daggers definitely have profanities written all over. You catch a glimpse of Jaemin and can practically read every word.

“Uhm,” you lower your voice, despite the fact Jaemin can still hear you. “Your friend looks pretty pissed. I feel kinda bad to just come back to beat him in front of people.”

“Oh, don’t worry about feeling bad,” the attendant’s friend waves his hand carelessly. “He always makes us feel bad when he constantly brags about how he’s the best at every game in here.”

“Is that so?” You glance at the boy on the bike with a new perspective. You could definitely see this guy as cocky, but maybe he’s still sweet underneath the exterior. You also wouldn’t mind seeing him once more before you head home, and now you had a reason.

“Well, count me in. I’ll be back at seven on the dot.”

With a flutter of your fingers, you say your temporary good-byes to the pair of boys and head out of the arcade. Jaemin finally props himself off the motorbike, getting back to work.

Passing by Chenle, he half-jokingly seethes, “I hate you,” into his ear.

Without a care in the world, Chenle frantically messages their group chat to come by the mall later to witness the match of a lifetime.

“Hey, did I miss it?” Mark pants as he puts an arm around Jeno from behind.

“No, you got here right on time. Super Bike girl should be coming any time soon.”

On the backend of the motorbike, Jaemin sits at the edge of it, studying the modest crowd around the racing simulator. Along with Jisung and Chenle, several of Jaemin’s other close friends are here to cheer for his downfall. For those who aren’t there, his friends are equipped with their phones in hand, ready to record the monumental event.

Weaving through the crowd with mumbles of “Excuse me’s,” you reach your destination and appear in front of the arcade worker.

The rising buzz of the crowd fades from your ears and into the background within his presence. You melt at him looking so coolly, bending over the motorbike with folded arms, and give him a warm smile.

“Just because you’ve got a sweet smile, it doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”

You playfully drop your mouth as the people around “Ooooh” in harmony. Your tongue is pressed against your lower teeth as Jaemin spins himself to the front of the bike. You get onto your previous seat from hours ago, grasping onto the fake vehicle as if you owned it.

You watch Jaemin enter the settings in. He’s not underestimating you this time and he executes his promise of not going easy on you—the hardest map and manual transmission are chosen, signaling you to really bring your A-game for this round.

At first, the match is tight. You’re practically side by side on the map, even having the occasional opportunity to push him off track and vice-versa. Changing up techniques, as the second lap rings in, you switch transmission gears and ease on the brake for a brief moment, hugging the curve of the map.

With that move, the red light flashes above him. Jaemin believes, no, he knows he’s going to win. Sweet victory is on the tip of his tongue, he can taste it. Ten seconds are left on the clock, ten seconds left until he beats you and continues to reign king of the game.

But, you suddenly speed past him and the game’s over before he can properly process it.

The screams surrounding you engulf the entirety of the arcade.

Jaemin’s mouth is on the floor as he realizes he lost.

No, his mouth is six feet under because you’re currently entering a nickname into the all-time best rankings. You beat Jaemin’s time on the map, seizing the new first place rank for the game.

Everyone circles you in congratulations, but your eyes are honed in on one individual in the crowd. He hops off the bike, brushes past the crowd, and escapes to the counter, continuing his shift like nothing happened. Hastily, you go after him and find him crouching down behind the glass. He’s unpacking boxes filled with what you assume are prizes.

On your forearms, you lean over the glass counter. “Hey, when does your shift end?”

Your assumption is answered as you see him restock some of the plushies in the transparent container underneath you.

“Why do you want to know? So you can beat me again at another game?” he grumbles, the bitterness blatant in his voice. Nevertheless, you persist.

“‘Cause Super Bike girl wants to get to know the cute Arcade Boy she met today over dinner.”

He pauses and his eyebrows perk up at the words cute and dinner in the same sentence. His ego is still sore, but he’ll bite.

“Is it a date?” he presses further with a disinterested tone, continuing to move the items.

You drag your bottom lip up, drumming your fingers slowly against the glass.

“Only if you want it to be.”

Your words bandage his sore ego quickly, but he wants to bathe in his pity a little while longer. He twists his mouth, fighting against the urge to show you his teeth.

The boy stands up and leans over the counter too. He’s greeted by your strong aura, yet it doesn’t completely reach your eyes; your gaze is soft and gentle. “I get off at nine, so it’s pretty late.”

“That’s okay. I can play games until then—”

You peel yourself off from the glass and properly introduce yourself, holding your hand out. He glances at it for a second, then at your tender look. He gives in and can't help himself from grinning. The arcade attendant reaches for your hand and reciprocates the shake.

“I’m Jaemin.”

That day, Jaemin learned that losing at the arcade games wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

EPILOGUE

Clutching onto Jaemin’s waist underneath his leather jacket with your chin resting on his shoulder, you’re swaying side by side with him on the racing game that brought you two together. It’s his day off today, and both of you thought it’d be cute to spend some time at the arcade before the movie showing later that evening.

“Ease on the gas!” you dictate. He rolls his eyes at your backseat driving.

“No, it’s too early!” he protests and goes against your advice, accelerating further. When that makes him go off-road a bit, you sigh smugly while he groans meekly.

“See, and this is why I’m better at Super Bike than you,” you tease before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Tingles rise to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I’ve played this game a lot longer than you.” It’s the second lap and he’s inching towards the finish line.

��Yeah, but who holds the record?”

After he speeds through it, the list of the best times roll onto the screen. Your nickname still stands proudly at number one from the day you asked him out on a date.

Jaemin smiles at the not-so far memory. He then twists and extends his neck over his shoulder, sharing a sweet kiss with you. Your grip around his waist tightens, your fingers sinking into his skin. His palm raises and cups your face, deepening the kiss.

Breaking away for a moment, he says, “Yeah, well, I’m the better kisser.”

You sweep your nose against his. “That’s up for debate…”

Your lips meet once more lovingly.

“Can you guys stop making out in the arcade again?” Jisung groans. “Kids are here, you know. Like me.”

Chenle cuts in, “I thought you were glad someone beat Jaemin for once.”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t expect the same person to have her tongue constantly down his throat!”

Still lip-locked, Jaemin and you smile into the next kisses from their remarks while Jisung and Chenle run off to play another game, far away from the new couple.

#jaemin #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #flash tw

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Note

*bows down to you* I would like to know your despair arc headcanons for antag reader! Literally love antag reader so much 😳

ahhhhhh nonny please let me treat you to my adoration, i can’t thank you enough for asking me about my despair arc hcs for antag reader

Request for: Fuck it, not even Hajime anymore it’s just antag reader. Girlboss moment Warnings: fuckin despair arc tings lmao there’s a lot to deal with, face cutting, abuse (emotional, mental, physical) cuz hi junko enoshima, manipulation cuz hi junko enoshima, self mutilation/harm, mikan/junko toxicity, gore, vomiting ~~~

Headcanons:

🐇Okay so I’ve said it before but!! 🐇She was in that toxic relationship between Mikan and Junko 🐇Junko would make her and Mikan compete for any and all affections just to cause them both despair (which even if “won”, was still denied) 🐇And then anytime she could, Junko would just absolutely berate (Y/n)’s looks and talent, calling the Ultimate Copycat a “fake talent” and “just stealing” 🐇So after Junko died, (Y/n) found her body and cut off portions of her face and replaced them with patches of Junko to “be more like her Despair” 🐇She would find people who wanted to fight for hope and take them in, insisting that she was on their side and would lead them to her house for “safety” 🐇Then she’d just restrain them with Mikan so they could perform experiments and surgeries on them together 🐇Definitely helps Kazuichi build his bigger machines, using the more intelligence she has to make better plans for what they’ll do with them 🐇I imagine that as a copycat antag, she’s got a shitload of charisma so she prolly just gets a load of followers 🐇I’m not saying it’s a cult… but 🐇Probably was the influencer for Nagito’s decision to become Servant 🐇Since he was already serving her all the time pre-despair he decided to join the WOH as their servant 🐇As for when she got captured by the Future Foundation… 🐇Was probably one of the harder ones to capture like Nekomaru and Gundham since she could be the Ultimate at almost anything she wanted 🐇When being interrogated by the Future Foundation she was probably smug and cocky af 🐇A solid match for Byakuya, no joke 🐇Maybe worse, like at least he sort of mellowed out with responsibility 🐇Keeps her mouth tightly shut until they mention anything about her face or Mikan 🐇Because as much as she doesn’t truly romantically love Mikan, she’s not even sure she loved Junko, she does care about the nurse very deeply 🐇So it’s when they mention having captured her that they get any sign of emotion other than cockiness 🐇When they say they have Nagito, that also gets them some words from her 🐇But if they say anything about her face, she has a little breakdown and throws a fit about how she’s better than everyone else in the room and she could kill them all if she wanted and she’s more beautiful than any of them could ever dream to be 🐇Didn’t get the chance to help Izuru release Junko into the Neoworld Program, but definitely would have if she could

Stories:

“Would you kill for me?” Junko murmured, bringing a hand up to caress (Y/n)’s cheek, rubbing her thumb over the bone, “Would you die for me?”

“I would!” she cried hysterically, tears already streaming down her face, “Please, say it! Please, just say it! I would do anything for you, please, just love me… I love you! I love you! Just love me, please…”

Her brows furrowed, bringing her gentle touch back to whip the copycat in the face with a backhand slap, “You’re so ugly, a little piggy ripe for the slaughter.”

Sobs pulled at (Y/n)’s convulsing body as she heaved on the ground. Her throat closed and dried up, chest burning and stomach churning until she finally felt her gag reflex trigger. She spat out stomach acids as she wept over a love that was never hers.

“God, you’re so nasty,” Junko kicked her in the ass, knocking her down into her own puke, “Get out and don’t come back until I command.”

“Love me… love me… love me… please… I beg you…!”

“Do you think if I crushed my hand, Junko would care?”

“No.”

“Sonia wouldn’t care if you crushed yours.”

Kazuichi’s eyes flickered from his work to (Y/n), “I know.”

“It’d be…”

“Despairful?”

“Absolutely morbid,” her tone was breathy, a grin easing up over her lips and heart beating faster as she set aside the half-finished Monokuma and pressed her hand onto the metal desk, raising her heavy wrench above her head.

Kazuichi was quick to copy the moves, eyes wide in anticipation and muscles twitching as his brain desperately tried sending the signals for him to stop.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

Screams echoed in the warehouse following the sickening crunch of bones under the torturous weight of their wrenches. Kazuichi looked at the girl through his tears, “Again?”

In the midst of her agonized cries, she nodded, blubbering about how horrific the pain was, “Yes, yes, again!”

And so, the countdown started once again.

“One, two, three!”

More bones broken, more pain blasting through their hands for their beloveds to reject everything they were. For the loves they held so dear to look upon them and their injuries and roll their eyes - because they were meaningless in their loves’ eyes.

And that was the despair they craved.

Nagito held out his chain, grimacing when it was Izuru who took it rather than (Y/n) before shoving that hatred back into his chest. Izuru may be a despair-filled faker with no real talent he’d been born with, but he himself, Nagito Komaeda - Servant - was worse.

He wasn’t worth the air in his lungs. Not even human garbage as he was barely passable as a human being.

Then, his eyes traveled once again to (Y/n). His dearest and closest friend.

Izuru may have had more talents mastered, but she was natural. She was genuine and had taken the time to master her Ultimate herself while Izuru had them all planted inside his brain as if he had a right to them at all. It was like watching a slacker get all the credit that a hard-worker had already done. Infuriating.

He wished to see (Y/n) ascend into hope once more, he truly believed she could pave the way above everyone else. She had to. She was better than everyone else, it was up to her to return them to hope, once she realized hope for herself.

He believed in her and her hope - once Enoshima’s metaphorical hands were ripped from her spirit.

And he liked to think she had fresh patches of skin that weren't hers, still red around the scars and peeling, were there for the same reason he had a new hand that wasn’t his.

“She’s so much like Byakuya,” Makoto mumbled, watching through the glass as their newest captured Despair, (Y/n) (L/n), tapped her nails against the table her hands were chained to.

“First that troublesome imposter and now her, who do they think they are? They’re not even near being worthy of the Togami name.”

Kyoko scanned the girl, “She was screaming at the guards earlier when they pointed out the scars and patches on her face. Perhaps bringing it up again will get her to talk about some things.”

“We…” Makoto stopped, shivering at the memory of Junko Enoshima’s corpse when they’d found it on the side of the road outside their old school. Patches missing from a bloodied, pulpy face, “We already know what happened. What more could you want her to talk about?”

“Maybe she knows where some of her classmates are.”

“The nurse freaked out when we mentioned her, maybe if we bring Mikan up to (Y/n), she’ll have a similar reaction,” the Ultimate Hope offered up.

Nodding, Kyoko turned towards the door into the interrogation room, “It’s worth a shot.”

Five minutes was all they got, Makoto Naegi said. He was compassionate and understanding and so sweet. Of course, he’d set up a meeting between the lovers who didn’t know if they ever really loved each other.

Mikan was always unusually cold and smelled of lavender with a hint of vanilla, her hands were soft and her lips a lovely shade of pink.

Now, as (Y/n) held the nurse’s hand over the interrogation table and basked in her presence, she could feel how much she’d changed in despair. She was still cold but now she reeked of dirt and blood, no matter how many showers she’d taken. Her lips were much paler; dry and cracked. Hands rough and calloused.

“They told me you took her womb.”

“You took her face.”

“You’ll bear her children?”

“You’ll bear her beauty?”

It was always a fight. It was always a competition. For more. For love. For the affection and attention they’d been deprived of all their lives.

“Have you… tried conceiving?”

There was silence. Mikan looked down at the table and then back up at (Y/n).

Her skin was no longer peeling along the jagged incision sites but her scars were infecting when she’d been taken in and it was obvious. They were puffy and oozed every so often.

She looked back down.

“With who?”

Shaking her head, Mikan tightened her grip on the girl’s hand.

“Why didn’t you get me to do the skin graft?”

“You were probably busy.”

“I would’ve done it anyway. I’d done Fuyuhiko’s eye.”

There was more silence. Stiffness building in the girls’ bodies the longer their quietness buzzed in the room.

“Am I still beautiful…?” it was rare to see vulnerability in (Y/n).

“Almost like our beloved herself.” it was rare to hear a lie from Mikan.

It wasn’t the scars or the blood or the skin patches, it was the act of how she’d gotten them. Scars and patches didn’t make a person ugly, but stealing pieces of a dead woman’s face and using them as your own did.

#antag reader #sdr2 x reader #mikan tsumiki x reader #junko x reader #nagito x reader #anon chatter :)

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astudyinfreewill · 4 years

Note

hey this may be a stupid question, but it's already been a long time since ive read trk so i don't remember everything properly, so can you explain to me why exactly ganseys behavior in the book is seen as problematic??

hey! don’t worry, there are no stupid questions in my book. in fairness, it’s not about gansey’s behaviour in trk, it’s about his behaviour throughout the whole series. most of his problematic actions all come down to the same basic flaw: self-centeredness. for all that gansey is a generous and loving person, he can’t help but make everything about himself. he is driven by anxiety to define his place in the world beyond his privilege, yet he is blinded by that very same privilege - a bad combination, and one that leads him to show very little empathy for the people he loves.

like many teenagers, he’s looking for affirmation from his friends... but then resents them for not giving it, while failing to see that (most of) his friends are dealing with traumatic issues. when his friends reject his input - because it is not what they need or want at the moment - gansey always, always takes it personally. at no point does he try to ask himself, okay, if this isn’t what my friends need, then what do they need from me and how can i be a better friend? instead, he goes straight into self-pity mode, complaining that his friends reject his support and walk away from him. thing is... it’s not real support if it only makes him feel better and not them.

i don’t really have the time to write an extensive meta on all of the interactions where gansey’s lack of empathy comes into play, but here’s a list of just the most glaring ones in the series, in no particular order:

gansey consistently tries to pay for adam’s way and persuade him to move in with him, even though adam has told him multiple times that he is uncomfortable with it because independence is key to his sense of self as an abuse survivor. sometimes he does this even when he’s fully aware that it will start a fight. despite that, adam is usually the one apologizing, at least on page

notably in trb there’s a scene where gansey tries to get adam to move in with him, but when adam asks what’s going to happen if gansey leaves henrietta - is adam just supposed to drop out of aglionby and follow him? - gansey doesn’t reassure him that’s not gonna happen. he just says adam will have to start again at a new school.

as i said above, this is not true support because it helps gansey feel better without inconveniencing him, but it is not what adam wants. if gansey wanted to support adam, he’d at least promise he would stay in henrietta for their final year of high school, instead of expecting adam to follow him around the world.

when adam rejects that offer and says he’ll stay in the trailer park, gansey takes it incredibly personally and his first response is to victim-blame adam for his abuse, saying things like: “you let your dad pound the shit out of you. you’re as bad as [your abusive mother]. you think you deserve it.” when adam still refuses to move in, and tells him, rightfully so, that gansey doesn’t know what it’s like for him, gansey follows that up with “don’t pretend you have anything to be proud of”. this is past mean and straight into cruel.

adam is the one who apologizes after this fight. let that sink in.

when thinking back on ronan’s suicide attempt, it is strongly implied in the text - and was made explicit in deleted scenes - that gansey appears to have taken ronan’s suicide attempt not just as a traumatic event, but as a slight against him, and is always vaguely guilt-trippy when it comes up (i.e. you promised me you wouldn’t get suicidal again)

gansey does illegal things on ronan’s behalf, multiple times, without ever wondering if this is what ronan wants, see: bribing school officials to keep ronan in school when ronan explicitly wants to drop out, because staying in school is what gansey thinks he should do. even if gansey’s heart was in the right place (i believe in staying in school), he is essentially involving ronan in illegal dealings against his will.

gansey is happy to share his search for glendower with the others, and delegate tasks to them (adam especially) as long as they do things his way. when adam acts against one of his decisions, gansey is absolutely unable to let that go. and while i understand that he is hurt by the breach of trust, because adam went behind his back, his language is telling: “i did tell him that we were to wait, right?”. you don’t “tell” your friends what they “are to do”. that’s not an equal relationship.

this is also seen in the way gansey acts with ronan in more of a parental role, actively ordering him about. you know there is a problem when an outside character refers to ronan as “gansey’s dog” and neither gansey nor ronan disagree with this.

there’s the infamous hospital scene in trb, too, which has been excellently analysed in this meta post by @bleachersmp3 and @mericatblackwood, but i’ll say a few words about it anyway

in this scene, adam has just been beaten into losing his hearing. he has just come out of the hospital, bruised and traumatised, and has been told he will now have a permanent disability as a result of his abuse. he is now also homeless, because by pressing charges against his father to protect ronan, he has ensured his parents will kick him out for good. so he is forced to move into monmouth - something we have been told from the start of the book he absolutely did not want, because it was critical to his sense of self not to depend on gansey’s wealth. so, he’s bitter about it.

and okay, that’s not entirely fair, because it wasn’t gansey’s fault. but if your friend had just undergone such horrific trauma, surely you would be a little lenient, and understand they’re not being objective atm, right? well, not gansey. instead, gansey launches into a tirade at him: “what is your problem, adam? [...] is there something about my place that’s too repugnant for you? [...] I’m sick of tiptoeing around your principles!”

when adam snaps at him that he’s being condescending by using highbrow words (we can assume that this is a discussion they’ve had before, because adam tries to get gansey to use more everyday words multiple times in the book, especially when it’s clear that blue doesn’t understand something, so it’s something gansey already know adam finds condescending), gansey goes straight to victim-blaming again, this time with a classist twist thrown in: “i’m sorry your father never taught you the meaning of repugnant. he was too busy smashing your head against the wall of your trailer while you apologized for being alive.”

gansey does not apologize at any point after this fight.

when adam sacrifices himself to cabeswater - which he does explicitly to stop whelk from murdering one of them and save gansey - gansey takes it as a slight against him, because it goes against what he told adam to do, and sadly asks adam “why? was i so awful?”, showing he has completely misunderstood adam’s reasons. adam tells him, and not for the last time: “it was never about you”.

it clearly doesn’t sink in bc they have the same discussion in the dream thieves, when gansey again asks him why did he go to cabeswater against his orders. he does this in an emotionally manipulative way, too - implying that ronan and blue both think badly of him while gansey has been defending him so adam owes him. adam again tries to tell him “it wasn’t about you”, which gansey refuses to believe, and reminds adam that the glendower search “belongs” to him. adam replies that if gansey wants adam’s help - which gansey relies upon frequently, as it seems like adam is assigned a very large share of research and coming up with ideas - he needs to treat him as an equal

after the fight, when adam has a mental breakdown due to the combination of stress, ptsd, and magically-induced hallucinations, and is found wandering along a highway, clearly dissociating and undergoing amnesia, gansey is still so bitter about their fight that he contemplates leaving him behind in dc, so that “adam will have to apologize for once” (for once???)

consider all this emphasis gansey puts on how much adam betrayed his trust; consider that gansey then spends nearly two books seeing blue behind adam’s back (starting in tdt, through bllb, and halfway through trk)

consider that despite the fact adam takes the reveal gracefully and thanks gansey for his honesty, when adam later in trk is honest with gansey about his feelings for ronan, gansey’s immediate reaction is to assume adam is using ronan as a sexuality experiment and warns him not to break ronan’s heart, because ronan is just so fragile and adam is just so cold

consider that the only basis gansey has for making this assumption is that “adam has hurt him (gansey) so many times before”, but never stops to think about his own responsibility in their disagreements, or whether he ever hurt adam

as you can see, the vast majority of these are in the first two books, with the exception of the “shovel talk” in trk. i would like to say gansey grows over the series, but i think unfortunately it’s more to do with the fact that starting with bllb, the plot is split between gansey/blue and adam/ronan, so gansey just doesn’t get as many interactions with adam and ronan (he’s still bribing school officials on ronan’s behalf though, including selling monmouth which at the time is where ronan is also living).

gansey isn’t a bad person, and doesn’t (always) mean badly. he does love his friends. unfortunately, his refusal to see things from anyone’s perspective but his own makes him a toxic friend on a great number of occasions.

#trc #meta #gansey #toxic friendship #mp #gotta stop here because i need to work and also i'm getting upset #long post #suicide mention tw #anonymous #answer #my meta

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juminsmysticmc · 4 years

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If you haven't already, could you write headcanons for RFA + Saeran & V with an MC that does schoolwork and studies for hours on end after coming home? (Maybe like them trying to get MC's attention or supporting her by cheering her on and making sure she takes care of herself)

RFA +Minor Duo with an MC that does schoolwork and studies for hours on end after coming home

Hey there! Thank you for this request! I really loved it and gave my best! I hope this will support you somehow ( I need it hahah) so, please tell me your opinion, okay? I love you!

Jumin

You loudly sighed as you closed your book and looked around the house.

Your husband wasn’t home yet, so you still had a bit more time to study.

Jumin often told you that there was no need for you to work, but of course you didn’t want to be a woman without something you were good in.

Besides, your dream was always to become a good doctor and Jumin supported you in your dream.

But it was still very hard and time consuming.

You were always sleepy, stressed out, and unmotivated.

,,Let’s keep fighting!’’ you told yourself and opened the book again, taking the pen in your hand again and beginning to read the sentence over and over, writing down the most important parts.

,,Mc…? Mc…?’’ you heard someone calling your name.

The voice seemed so far away…

But suddenly, you felt your body getting lifted.

,,Jumin…?’’ you groaned sleepily as you inhaled his scent.

,,Did I fall asleep…?’’ you asked him and felt his hand over your cheek.

,,Yes, did you eat?’’ he asked you concerned, but got the answer right away when he heard that your stomach was rumbling.

Quickly, he brought you your favorite porridge and made sure that you ate, handing you something to drink.

Jumin was the best support you could get. This was a hard time for you, but he was always there, making sure that you ate and stayed healthy. He was your perfect husband.

Zen

,,Let’s go on a date ~’’ Zen whined as he observed you, your head over your colorful notes.

,,Hyun, I’m busy…’’ you told him and tried to reject his hand which was currently massaging your thigh.

,,I want your attention…’’ he tried to make you look at him.

He wanted to support you with his all.

After all, you were going to change your degree for him, so that you could become his manager.

He was so thankful to you.

With you by his side, he knew that he would always be in good hands. However, he didn’t want you to work too much.

He began to kiss your neck and your cheeks, already feeling how hot they got.

Suddenly, you looked up and glared at him.

,,Not funny! I’m trying to-’’ you couldn’t end your sentence since he suddenly kissed you and even though you were kind of stressed, your boyfriend’s kisses were hard to reject and so you couldn’t help but kiss him back, moaning at his tongue.

,,I love you so much. Please take a break. You will have more motivation that way,’’ he whispered and kissed you again, making you really put down your pen and relax for a tiny moment.

Afterwards, you could really work harder while he tried to learn how to cook in order to support you with something nutritious.

Yoosung

,,I HATE IT!’’ you loudly sobbed as you threw your book on the floor.

You were currently having a mental breakdown because of your studies.

,,No one needs this SHIT!’’ you went on crying, looking at the themes you had to learn.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Yoosung looked at how you were angrily throwing away your pens and books.

He quickly approached you after coming home from work.

,,Mc, you should rest for a moment,’’ he told you and took you by your hand, leading you to the couch and hugging you, something you didn’t feel in a long time.

There your husband held you between his arms and nuzzled your hair, whispering cute and supportive words.

,,Imagine the children you’ll teach acting like that. What would you do?’’ he asked you, the person whose dreams was to become a teacher.

Suddenly, you began to reflect on what you did.

,,I should work harder and look at it when I’m calmer,’’ you mumbled to yourself and dug your head into Yoosung’s chest, who was massaging your back.

His hug made it possible for you to get up again later on and work harder, finally getting to the topic you were working on.

Jaehee

,,I don’t get it at all,’’ you whispered as you looked at the book filled with words you couldn’t understand.

To be honest, you didn’t want to understand it, so it was hard.

Suddenly, a cup was placed next to you.

When you looked up, your eyes met Jaehee’s happy face. Her smile made your mind brighter. It was as if you would be able to overcome everything now that you saw her.

,,Let me look at it,’’ she mumbled and looked at the tasks you were looking at.

Both of you wanted to own a shop but you still had to study a bit for school and so you were pretty busy between studying and working.

,,I love you so much,’’ you suddenly exclaimed while Jaehee tried to explain something to you.

The brown haired woman began to smile again as she kissed you.

,,Keep fighting. You can do it!’’ she giggled and took the empty cup of coffee she had prepared for you just a few moments earlier.

Jaehee was your greatest supporter.

She could explain to you most things so that you could put them into action correctly.

And indeed, for your next exam you could remember everything Jaehee told you.

Her soft voice while she explained to you how to work with the numbers, what you as an owner had to pay to the state, and what amount you would get back.

As if you didn’t do anything different, you handled the test, understanding everything.

The mark got much better and Jaehee was so proud of you.

Saeyoung

,,I regret it so much!’’ you sobbed in Saeyoung’s arms as you cried over your studies.

,,Becoming an engineer isn’t easy at all and it’s no fun!’’ you complained, resting your head on his strong chest.

Your legs were between his as his arms stroked your back and arms.

,,No one ever said that it was easy,’’ he began.

,,It’s hard to overcome and you will have to work hard,’’ he nodded.

,,But in the end, you will be pretty happy with what you accomplished. So don’t give up,’’he tried to cheer you up.

It worked on you.

His words made you think strongly about everything he just said.

You nodded and kept relaxing for a bit until you finally got up and went through your studies again.

Saeyoung was so proud of you.

He hated to see you in pain and the fact that you worked hard, even after school for hours, made it even harder for him, but he still supported you and made sure that he helped you with everything.

That’s why in front of you, you always had six bottles of Dr. Pepper and your fiancé’s favorite chips.

Saeran

,,I’m home,’’ Saeran called as he took off his shoes and entered the apartment the both of you shared.

Saeran was still working at Jumin's company while you were working hard on becoming a nurse.

You were so overwhelmed by your emotions that when your boyfriend entered, he actually caught you crying.

,,Mc? Why are you crying?’’ he asked you when he saw your tears.

Saeran came closer to wipe away your salty tears with his fingers.

You looked up at him.

He was concerned for you and was just waiting for you to give him an answer.

However, you were way too embarrassed that you were scared and overworked, that you wanted to rest, to sleep, and to go on a date with him.

But as if he could read your mind, he kissed you and told you to not give up.

,,Give your best and keep fighting, even though it’s hard. Later on you will be happy that you gave your very best!’’ Saeran said.

You nodded strongly and were about to keep on with your work when he took your hand and smiled at you.

,,Let’s first breathe some fresh air,’’ he whispered and made you follow him outside where both of you had a beautiful, big garden with a lot of flowers.

Thank God he made you breathe fresh air.

Later on, you could work on your tasks for a few more hours while he made sure that you stayed warm and hydrated, that you ate snacks like apples and cookies, and that you weren’t desperate.

Jihyun

You looked at the amount of numbers and you tried to understand just a glimpse of what was written in your book.

You were sleepy and cold.

You arrived from school at 2PM and were currently working on your project for three hours.

However, by now the headache you got earlier was much worse.

But giving up at this point was a no go for you, and so you kept on giving your best.

,,That’s not the way,’’ someone told you from behind and gave you a glass of water.

,,I know,’’ you quickly answered and wrote down the information you thought would be important.

Suddenly, you felt something warm on your shoulders and saw that your fiancé was trying to keep you warm with a blanket.

He was indeed your soulmate for knowing how you felt and what you longed for, because everything you needed was on its way to you.

Same for the kiss you waited for.

,,You worry too much,’’ Jihyun told you.

,,Please rest today,’’ he begged you and touched your forehead.

,,You have a slight fever,’’ he told you and later on went on that you could only give our best if you kept your body healthy.

,,I know,’’ you mumbled before you closed your eyes and fell into his arms.

A few hours later, you woke up next to him, who just observed you.

,,I love you. I know you can’t fail. Don’t worry too much.

You have enough time. Rest and take care of your body… please,’’ Jihyun smiled and kept observing you as you happily fell asleep again.

MASTERLIST 1MASTERLIST 2MASTERLIST 3

03.03.2020// 22:36 MEST

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ambitionsource · 4 years

Note

wait i actually have more weirdly specific questions (if ur up to it) - how do the kids feel about poetry? do they follow any sports? what childhood tv shows were their favs? do they have celebrity crushes? fav coming of age movie? how are they doing in quarantine? what time in history were they obsessed w as a kid? have they ever been to summer camp? what type of candles do they like? what song do they cry to? how do they drink their coffee/tea sorry if u’ve answered already/too many questions

wooooo thank you for your patience iz!! we’re gonna go point by point

poetry?

charlie loves it genuinely and will read it for fun. riley likes it enough but doesn’t go out of her way to read it. farkle loves coming up with insane explanations for the metaphors and is smug about interpreting it in class. zay doesn’t care for it, neither does lucas. asher appreciates it but finds it boring; dylan likes it for the same reason farkle does, only not to look smart but to come up with something completely crackheaded to combat farkle’s interpretation (which he can’t then say isn’t correct, bc its poetry, so all interpretations are valid!). isa doesn’t like it because she doesn’t get the metaphors on paper the same way she can pick them up in film. maya hates it even though multiple people have pointed out that song lyrics are basically poetry -- she will tune you out.

sports?

sports aren’t Big at aaa (aside from dance), but there are remnants here and there. riley follows basketball of course -- even tho as demonstrated in 110, she cannot play it to save herself -- and she tried out for cheer in 9th grade at her old school but was rejected from the squad (another bad mark on a terrible year). farkle prefers wii sports over any actual sport, but will sometimes watch golf with stuart because it’s quality time with his very busy father. charlie did soccer when he was younger before it got phased out by dance and semi keeps up with it. dylan also “played” soccer, but this meant the other little league teammates getting pissed at him bc he never paid attention to the game and was just like “hey! hey, dennis, look at this!” and did like 3 cartwheels across the field. it was a smart move when randall pulled him from the team bc those intense soccer moms were gonna like beat them up fDJSKG. so now dylan is just an unofficial gymnast instead.

isa doesn’t like sports but played them a lot with foster siblings, and even though she sucks she gets very competitive. lucas liked baseball and was good at track in middle school, but he never thought about doing a sport for real because he knew he was going to quincy eventually where his dad is a coach... yeah. no. but he’s great at running fast from the police!

maya hates sports (aside from the art of dance). waste of time, waste of energy. asher has never done a sport nor ever contemplated a sport. the most Sport he’s endured is going with jade to support dave at his swim meets (where nigel also does swim) and suffice to say, asher wasn’t there to look at the swimming.

childhood tv?

dylan to this day is a spongebob squarepants STAN. legend, icon, scholar, best television show ever made, in his opinion. he also was well-versed in pokemon, adventure time, gravity falls, and phineas and ferb. asher and lucas both didn’t watch lots of tv growing up (if at all), so dylan considers it his job to give asher a thorough education in the quality tv he missed as a kid.

maya was all over hannah montana (miley is still a role model to this day for her), and she, zay, and charlie all remember the fever dream that was shake it up. zay especially loved it bc he was (is) obsessed with zendaya. zay and maya both also watched victorious. charlie was sharing a tv with four siblings so he just ended up watching whatever the dominant sister that day wanted to watch. riley was a disney channel girl, and farkle was a pbs scholar (arthur, cyber chase, fetch! with ruff ruff man... classics).

celebrity crushes?

zay = zendaya (as previously mentioned). charlie = harry styles to a major degree, although his Cover Story would be zendaya if you asked (ironically). maya = britney spears (but in a I Want To Be Her way, major idolization rather than attraction) and technically the same for valerie de la cruz but like... rip to that lmao. isa = loki, yes we know, but sometimes it be that way (altho that does extend a little bit towards tom hiddleston in general). asher = logan lerman, aka the main valid white boy who dresses nice, is polite and soft-spoken, and minds his own business (not to mention he is the Same Type as dylan). dylan = had crushes more on like... personalities so like ash ketchum and percy jackson, and now its irrelevant bc he met asher and became obsessed and its like every other potential crush just flew out the window of his brain. it’s full asher territory in there nowadays.

riley doesn’t have a specific one, she thinks lots of people are Pretty but no one particularly strongly. farkle doesn’t have one because he’s insane and doesn’t have the mental capacity. lucas doesn’t have one because he’s demi and also hates most celebrities as people.

coming-of-age movie?

maya’s is mean girls. farkle’s is ladybird. zay’s is easy a. riley’s is bend it like beckham. isadora’s is eighth grade. charlie’s is dead poet’s society. asher’s is perks of being a wallflower. dylan’s is spiderman: into the spiderverse. lucas doesn’t know movies.

quarantine?

we’ve somewhat discussed this before, but ultimately es and i elected to let aaa remain in a nice, calm universe where they don’t have to endure covid. lucky them. blow a kiss to the ether for us, buds,

fave time in history?

riley is huge on ancient greece and greek mythology. maya loves the theatricality and Drama of the roaring 20s (a baby flapper at heart). zay vibes hard with the 80s. charlie likes the fashion and romanticism and music and art of the 70s (that sort of flowery positivity clashing with the rebelliousness of the movements of the 60s... yeah. that hits something in him). farkle’s is the great depression not only bc he’s an emo but also all the raw and desperate art that came out of it. isadora was a egyptian mythology kid. i know lucas sounds lame (he is), but i don’t think he cares about history -- but if pushed he’d probably say the 90s bc he dresses like he’s straight out of there, everyone was angry rocking, and he wasn’t born. asher likes the victorian era bc of the sheer elegance and Aesthetic to everything. dylan doesn’t have a favorite time period because due to being the subconscious multiverse conduit (i.e. the being that is somewhat connected to every other version of himself) sometimes he wakes up and for a minute he doesn’t even know what year it is 🤪anyway...

summer camp?

charlie has been to many a christian youth summer camp. zay went to the kossal program, but that was basically it. lucas no although he probably wished he could be anywhere else during the summer sometimes including a camp he would hate. riley went for a few years in elementary school. isa has gone to a couple of “foster kid” summer camp bonding things that she despised. farkle went to jewish summer camp One time and was like that was HORRIBLE, never make me spend a whole summer outside AGAIN. asher was more of a Enrichment courses at the rec center during the summer kid than a camper. dylan no because the orlandos couldn’t afford something like that. same for maya.

candles?

riley has a small variety of scented ones that are like... warm scents, like cinnamon and stuff. asher a couple that smell like clean linen but his fear of accidental fires keeps him from ever lighting them. maya has one and it smells like “star power,” a gift from her mom one christmas. isadora can’t have any because many of her foster homes don’t allow them. lucas legally shouldn’t be allowed anything that catches on fire. dylan doesn’t have one but similarly should not be given one. the minki have a whole collection for different things so farkle can just pluck one at any time if he needs one like for a super fancy bath or whatever the fuck rich people do.

mental breakdown song?

charlie’s are “falling” and “from the dining table” by harry styles.

riley’s is “manhattan” by sara bareilles and “rainbow” by kacey musgraves.

zay’s are “imagine” by ariana and “dear life” from the step up soundtrack (post zc breakup).

farkle’s are “vienna” by billy joel and “get it right” from glee.

asher’s is “don’t cry” by ruel.

isa’s is “you are my sunshine” because valerie used to sing it to her a lot when she was really little, so it will always make her a little emotional.

dylan’s (although rare) are “soon you’ll get better” by ts and “make you feel my love” by adele. the second one is because his mom loved adele when she was just starting out bc 19 was released the same year that she passed away so there’s a lot of like subconscious association there even if he doesn’t realize it.

maya doesn’t have one, and lucas also doesn’t have one because in the rare moments he does cry its in his closet in the dark silence alone bc he literally can’t stand the sentience of knowing he’s crying so. sensory blackout.

coffee / tea?

riley will add at least 3 sugars to anything, but she’s ultimately an iced tea gal. lucas drinks it black but only because it never occurred to him to add anything to it and so it’s a big wake up call when he realizes you can drink it and have it NOT be bitter and horrible and demoralizing ( “i thought we were all just suffering for the caffeine fix??” ). isa is a tea girl mostly, although she wishes she could drink black coffee for the aesthetic (and hates that lucas can... it’s like... he didn’t even Earn that aestheticism, smh). asher doesn’t drink caffeine bc it makes him Jittery (and he’s already jittery) so he’s like... the lemonade bitch at coffee shops which kin, and then dylan definitely drinks caffeine but not thru coffee, he’s more likely to get like a hot chocolate.

farkle lives on coffee but he can only drink it from home because they’re rich and can have like fresh ground good imported whatever the heck etc etc so he’s like spoiled about coffee. zay will hit up a starbucks now and then and will order coffee at a diner, but he’s not too attached either way. maya is a fun n free starbucks gal with her frappes and lattes and lots of cream (whipped or otherwise). charlie doesn’t drink coffee or tea bc hes hyper aware of his body and health (he doesn’t really have soda either) and it was frowned upon in his house.

#this was a HEARTY helping of questions. lots to unpack there #thanks izzy!! fun for me and es to go thru #ambition quarantine 2020 #aaa friday #you didnt technicalyl send this on friday but im counting it #front nine #thebestofabaddeal #answered

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @herewegohappiness!

hello! i didn't incorporate all of your likes, but from the ones that i did, i hope that you enjoy my take on them and this. thanks!

Read on AO3

*****

when one's eyes are crossed

Stiles has only just sat down at a park bench when Scott sits down opposite him and asks, "So are you ever going to tell Derek how you feel?"

He doesn't startle, he already knew Scott was going to ask this before he even uttered the words. He's been on the warpath for a while now and Stiles' pathetic pining is just the next thing for him to focus on instead of his own problems. Scott's just predictable like that. Or Stiles is just as extremely paranoid as he's been accused of in the past. Whatever. It doesn't really matter anyway.

"I don't think that would be a great idea," Stiles says.

Scott frowns at him, his puppy eyes wide. "Why not?"

"We've been over this a hundred times, man. Derek just isn't into me. And how could he be? We're in very different leagues," Stiles groans, thumping his head on the table in exasperation.

"That's a load of bull and you know it," Scott says. "Anybody would be lucky to have you, man. You're a catch."

Stiles sticks his tongue out at his best friend, full-on pouting now as he tries to think of another topic to distract Scott from Stiles' pathetic pining. "How's Allison?"

"She's fine. Don't change the subject," Scott snaps back.

Stiles groans. "Can we please just leave it alone? Derek doesn't and never will like me, dude. Plus, I thought you hated him."

"I didn't hate him. He was just really creepy and irritating when we first met him, but we're older now, Stiles, and despite everything, he's my Alpha. He wouldn't be my Alpha at all if you hadn't stepped in and whipped us all into shape. Anyway, weren't you the one who said Derek deserves good things in his life after all the crap he's already been through?"

"And what? Am I supposed to be a good thing?" Stiles teases.

Scott only shrugs. "Well, yeah. I mean, dude, you know that Derek can smell your attraction to him, right? He hasn't said anything because it's impolite to use our werewolf senses to our advantage when it comes to forming relationships with humans... His words, not mine."

"You're joking," Stiles flounders.

"I'm not. You should tell him," Scott says with a shake of his head.

Stiles bites his lip. "I'll think about it. No promises though."

"Well, think of it this way, if you confess and he does end up liking you back, those rumors about you being his mate will finally have some weight to them," Scott points out.

"Those rumors are only rumors because he made me pretend to be his mate when that female Omega came passing through around Christmas and she wouldn't take any of his noes for an answer," Stiles says. "Now most of the Northern American supernatural community thinks Derek and I are a thing. Even Allison's dad asked me how my 'mate' was doing the other day."

Scott rolls his eyes. "Yeah, that's 'cause it really isn't that hard to imagine you two together. I'm just saying, man. Tell him. I think you'll be surprised."

"I already said I'd think about it. I can't give you more than that, dude," Stiles replies.

"It's literally the least you can give me, but okay."

Stiles sighs and buries his face into his arms, hoping he looks pitiful enough for Scott to share the rest of his lunch with him. He must because a second later, Scott is handing him half of a sandwich and pats him on the back encouragingly as he sits up to eat.

Maybe he should take Scott's advice into consideration. Scott has been in the same long-term, committed relationship since he was sixteen while Stiles has never dated anyone and he's almost twenty-one now. It isn't for a lack of trying, but most people like it when their significant other is able to dedicate time to them. Stiles goes to school and works part-time at his dad's station during the summer, so he is spread pretty thin almost all of the time, but he always makes time for the pack.

No matter where he may be or what time of day it is, when the pack needs him, Stiles is there.

They are all older and wiser now. Plenty of nasty beings don't bother passing through Beacon Hills anymore because of their infamous reputation for not letting things leave alive, but there are still the stray instances of trouble here and there. Stiles generally doesn't worry too much about it anymore since he did his part in high school when he dragged the pack together after the Kanima incident and made them all work together until it felt like second nature. Even Derek stepped up and took responsibility as the Alpha, bettering himself and his social skills until they were up to the task of handling a group of hormonal teenagers.

Most of the time, Derek acts like a worn out, middle-aged father of seven where the pack is concerned - though you wouldn't catch Stiles dead admitting that out loud. Derek barely tolerates when Stiles refers to his pack members as Derek's "puppies" and there is no telling what the older werewolf would do if Stiles were to accidentally call them his "kids" instead.

Stiles has to admit though, Derek rarely gets physical with him anymore. Long gone are the days when Stiles would be slammed into a wall or a steering wheel or any other available surface near enough to do the kind of damage Derek would want done. Derek is by no means gentle, but he is more thoughtful and does his best to communicate which is a lot more than Stiles ever expected him to learn. That's probably thanks to all the therapy Stiles convinced Derek to get about a year or so back though if he's going to be completely honest.

It wasn't particularly difficult to get Derek to say yes to the idea. All Stiles had to do was imply that if the puppies saw their Alpha getting therapy to better himself, they would follow suit and develop healthy coping mechanisms that would require less of Derek's own time to deal with their inevitable breakdowns. Derek had growled at him but agreed to attend one, singular session and if he didn't like it, then Stiles couldn't do anything to change his mind. Stiles had grinned and nodded, knowing full well that Derek was going to go back for more and lo and behold, that is exactly what happened.

If it helps the puppies, then Derek will do it however reluctantly because just like Stiles, he is more than willing to do whatever it takes for the pack.

This is one of the biggest reasons why Stiles is head over heels in love with the grumpy sourwolf. To list all the other reasons would take up too much time and space, but it is kind of sad how enamored Stiles is with Derek. Well, actually it's sad how Derek still hasn't noticed how enamored Stiles is with him. Almost everyone else in the pack knows by now and even with his keen sense of smell, he won't do anything about it.

Maybe Stiles shouldn't listen to Scott's advice. After all, how good can it be when he and Allison have broken up three times before?

Very good, in fact, Stiles finds out when he stays behind after everyone else has left the following pack meeting and loses control of his brain-to-mouth filter once more.

Honestly, it's a wonder Stiles hasn't blurted his feelings out in all the years he has known Derek, but it must be the atrocious summer heat finally getting to his head this time. Only because he swears that when the older werewolf asked him how things were going down at the station, Stiles did not mean to say, "Fine. I'm in love with you."

Derek's expression falters for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes before he lifts a particularly impressive eyebrow at him and his mouth twitches with the promise of a smirk. Stiles doesn't actually realize what he just said until the silence continues and he mentally reviews the last few moments then panics.

"Oh, shit! I didn't mean to-" Stiles starts to say.

"You don't mean it?" Derek asks, his voice deceptively calm even though Stiles can tell from the hard lines of his shoulders that his Alpha is harboring hurt.

"No! Yes! Wait, I mean I do mean it, of course, I do. I just didn't mean to say it like that!" Stiles shouts, face aflame.

Derek's shoulders have relaxed now though so at least Stiles' embarrassment has been worth something apart from his imminent death after all. "How did you mean to say it then?"

Stiles balks. "Uh. Not at all, maybe?"

"Really?" Derek asks as he crosses his arms over his chests, completely unimpressed now.

"No," Stiles admits. "I meant to say it during a really romantic moment that would knock your socks off and save me the embarrassment of your rejection. Hopefully."

Another moment of silence that makes Stiles want to run away with his tail between his legs. The words are out there now and there's no taking them back, no matter how much Stiles may want to. He could never try to play this off as a joke just for his benefit if it meant Derek thought he really was just messing with him for the fun of it. Derek has had too many people do that to him almost his entire life and Stiles refuses to be one of them.

"Who said I was rejecting you?"

Stiles blinks and chances a look up at Derek. "Seriously?"

Derek shrugs, his mouth twitching again. "I don't know if you know this, Stiles, but I asked you to pretend to be my mate that one time because that was something I have wanted to be real for a while now."

"Am I dreaming?"

"I could pinch you," Derek offers.

"Ha, ha," Stiles huffs, before an impossibly wide grin breaks across his face. "You like me."

Derek nods even though Stiles didn't phrase those words as a question. "You like me."

"Nah. I love you, you big idiot wolf," Stiles says.

"I think the only idiot here is you," Derek shoots back.

"Nope! Let me enjoy this moment, I want our grandkids to smile when I tell them this story, alright."

Derek seems to falter at the mention of grandkids and them essentially having a long future together and Stiles winces. "Too soon?"

After a moment, Derek only shakes his head. "No."

"Can I kiss you?"

Derek laughs. "Funny. I was just about to ask you that."

Stiles grins at him, holding his arms out. "Come at me, sourwolf."

Derek comes.

#herewegohappiness #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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caticornsrreal · 5 years

Text

Fighting Dragons with You

After twelve years, I'm finally telling the internet why I love Taylor Swift🖤

Hello, internet using world. I’d like to introduce myself to the few people who followed me. Hi! My name is Christa and I am a Taylor Swift fan with every fiber of my being. Full disclosure, this is a short novel so now is your chance to make an exit, but I hope you stay.

Taylor and my ridiculously furry cat, Lyle

(affectionately nicknamed “rent-free”), are the only two beings made of flesh and bone who have been consistent in my life for the last 12 years. With a close second being my son, Gauge, who just turned 10. I won’t get into the details (in this post) as to why that is, but let’s just say there were a lot of ups and downs growing up.

The last 12 years have been an evolution for Taylor,

and subsequently, for me. At (dare I say it)

38 years old, I’ve found that a lot of things happen in a decade. Like, A LOT. Now, I don’t feel 38. I guess I owe that to humor, singing, dancing, sarcasm, and launching a successful career that didn’t exist 15 years ago —something that has made me always push harder to set new goals and stay humble. But one thing I didn’t do over these last 12 years that I deeply regret was starting a fan page for Taylor. I mean, ESPECIALLY since I’m a professional travel blogger who makes her full time living from digital content!

There’s been a lot of momentum over the last 12 years

—demands which left me with little to no free time. But I can’t blame my absence from the Swiftie family entirely on that. In fact, I’d have to say, I blame much of it on fear.

Fear,

of being misunderstood, fear of judgment or writing something lame. I’ve had over 2,000 articles published online and in print as well as countless social posts, but the thought of Taylor seeing something I wrote and thinking it’s totally weird (or cough, too long for the internet), well let’s just say I’d be less afraid of walking into a burning building.

Fear,

of being called a fake because the financial demands as a single mom left me little money to spend on myself or Taylor merchandise, much less tickets to a show. I’ve always placed my son’s needs before mine.

Fear,

that I was too old to be a Taylor Swift fan. I mean, I was 26 when she hit the music scene and she was what, 16? I’ve been afraid. Afraid I would be rejected by other Swifties who really are the only people who understand this love we have for her —which is basically like being rejected by your own people. Also, it’s super weird to be following teens/young adults on social, much less engaging with them.

Fear.

Along with my fear, a perfect storm of entrepreneurial demands, single motherhood, failed relationships (one of which was a marriage), and family matters have served as a constant reminder that my dream of ever meeting Taylor takes residence on another planet. An actual trip to Mars seemed more attainable.

I feel like there is a whole demographic of women, “Swiftie Moms” who echo my story,

having watched Taylor grow into the strong beautiful woman she's become. Women my age who love her from behind the wheel of their SUV, on the way to drop their kids off to school, on the way back from a milk run, in the dark hours of the mornings when they’re dancing in the kitchen with a full on hair bun singing into a coffee spoon. Unnoticed fans who haven’t had the time to dive head first into the Swiftie Universe. But here I am. After all the fear and all the years...

So, why?

This is a hard one to answer. I guess you can say that after many years of challenges, judgment from others, and doing the complete opposite of what logic and reason said I should —divorce, single motherhood, a second degree in my late twenties... risking it all to start a blog (which by the way in 2013 wasn’t even considered a side job much less a career), I kind of got to a point where I became

fearless.

I had to be. I had this tiny living, breathing human being who was counting on me at the very least, to give him a life a notch above the shit show I had growing up. Not to mention parenting —which is basically wandless wizardry pulled directly from the asses of parents. It demands that your mini human grows up to be a better human than you.

Yeah, unpack that.

Take all your collective shit, figure it out, and then teach your mini to do it better —to BE better than you at love, kindness, respect for others (especially boys respecting girls), integrity, money, and to be fearless. All while giving them the comfort of knowing that you, mom, have it all figured out... even when that couldn't be farther from the truth.

Top that with the pressures of working in the public eye

—which, while on a microscopic level compared to a full-on celebrity such as Taylor, is still very much a juggling act with none of the entourage to lighten the workload. Add to it the demands of working with national brands, and the unwavering ability for other bloggers to tear you down at any opportunity, or even worse, try to get close to you so they can raid your success like a Black Friday sale.

I found myself at the peak of my blogging career

but I was consumed by fear, AGAIN! Fear of shady AF bloggers and publicists, and so much to lose. And fear that now, thousands of people would have an opinion of me formed by jealous bloggers, and they didn’t even know who I really was.

That’s when letting go of toxic people in my life became essential

—when, no matter who they were, or how I was tied to them, I had to realize that surrounding myself with the ones who lifted me took precedence over the ones who dragged me down.

After all that..... I learned to give zero f***s about what people thought, or what they said behind my back.

And I had to start caring about what made my heart happy, what made my family and friends smile, and what inspired me to do better. BE BETTER. Be the example of fearless, with the hope that I was lucky enough to stay that way. But I'm a vulnerable human made of heart and soul and sometimes people can still take the best from me.

I had to be fearless.

In August of 2017 when "Look What You Made Me Do” blessed my ears for the first time, I felt it pierce my skin and course through my veins. And to the very bones of this young 38-year-old Swiftie mom, I was shook AF! I sang, I danced and I drowned out the haters in the blogging world. She had a very clear message,

She had zero f***s to give, Taylor broke the internet.

After watching the seemingly endless myriad of shade thrown at Taylor over the years, my heart erupted with happiness as her flawless first single from Reputation revealed one BADASS BITCH. And with every music video release of her new era, she became a mythical Goddess with bullshit evaporating superpowers. Like, I legit think she’s an actual unicorn. After all, she does ride a caticorn named Olivia.

She got harder, she got smarter in the nick of time

One single post on my Facebook page praising her new era and new single she brought with it attracted a slew of hate speech, white people bashing, claims of Taylor ripping off Beyonce... I couldn’t believe the things I was reading from fellow bloggers. I even had a GLOBAL BRAND threaten my business relationship in their ambassador program because I stood up for Taylor and spoke out about the hate speech which was placed on my own personal Facebook page. But I stood by my words.

Fearless.

Over the following months into early 2018, and to the tune of, “This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things”, I, along with a slew of about 20 other bloggers, ended up taking down said global brand’s publicist who was using his budget and power to demean and sexually harass female bloggers (which would later reveal that blacklisting me was more about not buying into that bullshit rather than my voice on hate speech).

Zero f***s given to those haters.

Mythical Goddess with bullshit evaporating superpowers level officially achieved for Taylor, and even for me. Although I wouldn’t call myself a Goddess. That's all Tay. 🖤

She found love through the noise

And so did I. In November of 2017, I had approached the year anniversary of the greatest love I'd ever known. My last stop. And as the tracks played on, my heart was full. We both found happiness through a seemingly endless sea of anguish.

Taylor is truly doing better than she ever was, and so am I.

Her resilience up against the media and the demands of the industry are perfectly fearless. And her decision to keep her beautifully growing relationship with Joe private is wise. I’ve spent the last year at home, which has been incredible. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what’s most important to me, what has shaped me into the mom, partner and entrepreneur that I am, and it all comes back to Taylor. That’s why it’s time for me to be fearless again and officially join the Swiftie universe.

I’ve spent 12 years fighting dragons with Taylor

and growing a canyon of respect and adoration for her charm, wit, business savvy, musical talent, feminism, compassion, tenacity, love for animals, and of course her lovely, lovely, words. I’ve raised my son from birth with her. There isn't a single day that is spent where Taylor doesn't exist in our lives. For 12 years straight.

That’s a long time to love someone who has no idea you exist.

I play her music videos and YouTube uploads just so I can feel like she’s with us. And so my son knows that she’s one of the finest examples of a human being in his lifetime. I use Taylor’s kindness to teach my son how to be considerate and give back to others while sharing her fearless story with him so she can be a positive role model in his life. Taylor has essentially been part of our family all along.

My son Gauge has a running joke that Taylor is the only person that can make me cry

(which happens more than I'm willing to admit). And it’s not because I’m weak, or on the verge of a mental breakdown (although I challenge you to try parenting, you might argue that), it’s because I truly love her like a best friend. When I see her happy it makes me happy, when I feel her sadness, it makes me sad. It’s visceral.

I don't believe the human connection is meant to be one-sided.

I feel in my heart, as weird as this may sound, that we will meet Taylor one day, even against all odds. Existing in the same lifetime as Taylor without at least trying to meet her doesn't feel right. I won't look at my son and teach him to let fear and doubt win, or that defying the odds is an impossible task.

Over the years I’ve been a spectator to her outreach to fans. She’s invited them to sessions in her homes, sent them gifts, invited them backstage, surprised them in their homes, made hospital visits, and Lord knows what else she has up her sleeve. And it’s all been done with pure excitement and love for her Swifties. With each outreach she extends, tears of joy are shed for fellow Swifties, and a ray of hope inspires me.

So, I’m starting a personal blog

which tells a very personal story of all the dragons I’ve fought with Taylor over the years. From living in a car at 15 years old to getting invited to LA premieres for Walt Disney and Marvel films. And I'll have no apologies for the truths that will be told (but will change names for privacy). It will be very personal and some of it won’t be pretty. Because life isn’t always pretty.

Taylor is releasing another album this year... we hope,

and she’ll be on yet another tour in 2020. After 12 years I’m finally ready for it. I’ve given my son everything he could possibly want or need. I’ve bought him a beautiful home in Northern Georgia. He’s been able to travel the world and do things most adults haven’t even done. And I owe much of that to Taylor for giving me the strength to take major risks, the courage to face my demons, the balls to cut people out of my life who were toxic and the self-confidence to defy the odds and do things my way.

2019 is our year to show @taylorswift how much we love her.

I’ll let the universe do the rest. Till then, I’ll be fighting dragons with her as I always have and writing my journal for her and anyone else who wants to read the memoirs of an OG Swiftie mom who keeps it real AF, full-on hair bun and all.

#taylor #taylorswift #taylurking #taylornation #taylor swift #taylor13 #taylorswift13 #taylornation13 #fightingdragons #swifties #swiftie #tswift13 #deartaylor #dear taylor

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ships-sailing-in-the-night · 5 years

Text

I just wanted to say that yesterday morning I had a doctors appointment. It went well and everything, except for the fact I had to get a Tetanus booster and blood taken. Talk about a double edged sword, but nevertheless, I survived. An interesting thing came up, I must first; however, start elsewhere.

For years my sister has struggled in school, with social relationships and even with us. For as long as I can remember she has always fought with either me, my mom or with my dad. The constant fighting always bothered me, but I thought in time things would get better. They didn’t, and 2 years ago she was diagnosed with a lot of stuff. She’s been on medication, gone to therapy, but it hasn’t helped much. She has her good days and her bad, but the stress has just been piling up in me. When I first went to college I was always excited to come home for breaks, but as the semesters went by I found myself not being that excited to come home because then I would be back with all the stress.

This past summer, as some of you know, I went to Ireland for study abroad. The trip was amazing, I have never seen a place so beautiful in my life. I made some great new friends and really enjoyed the 2 weeks overseas. Life at home has been really stressful, my younger sister is struggling a lot with depression and her learning disability. A year ago she attempted suicide but got help. That really struck a nerve hard with me.

As senior in college, prepping to graduate and hopefully attend veterinary school I’ve never been so stressed. Being told day by day that I’m not good enough to get in, or I’m wasting my time applying really lowers my self-esteem. The constant stress from school and home have really taken on toll on me throughout the past 3 years. I’ve had some really low, low moments but I’ve always managed to pick myself up again.

When I was in Ireland it felt as I had walked through the closet to enter Narnia. I had never been so relaxed, my mind finally at peace. I didn’t worry about school, my sister, anything. It was the best two weeks in my best, it then followed by one of the worse weeks in my life and I had only gone downhill from there.

3 days before my flight back to the states I had a dream — a dream of what I was going to come home to again. The constant arguing between my sister and I or my mom and my sister. My constant fear of whether or not she would try to hurt herself again or worse. My constant stress over the approaching school year and trying my best to do as well as I can in my classes to not disappoint my family.

The day after I got home I went to the mall to pick up something I had ordered before I left, I knew while I was driving my mom and sister that I was off. I felt it but thought I could control/have a tight enough grip on it that I would be ok. I was wrong. My mind was in such shambles that I accidentally backed up too far in the spot and hit the wall behind me. That’s when I cracked.

I suffered an attack, the worse I have ever had that day — July 11th. Between the hyperventilating and forceful shaking, I had never been so not in control with my body. My mom tried to figure out why I was so upset but my brain was shutting down. It was so hard to get the words out. In the end, she assumed I was just upset about hitting the wall with my car and not being home in Ireland. I didn’t adjust well coming home, and I crave going back but that’s not my life. My life is here in the states and I have to make the most of it. As much as she thought (as well as I) that the attack was a one and done thing, it wasn’t.

Fast forward to Friday, October 19. A group of friends and I went to a neighboring town to go on a ghost tour. As an RA I had to work on Halloween and my friends would most certainly go to parties (something I know I can’t handle because of the stress). We all agreed it would be fun, so 2 of my residents and 6 of my friends all agreed to go on this tour. The tour was really interesting because I'm a history nerd and I love ghost stories, and I enjoyed myself.

However, at the end of the tour half of the group wanted to go to a nearby bar to get drinks and food. Mainly drinks, which I did not want to do because it was getting late and I had a test to prepare for the next morning. I told my friends I didn’t want to go and I wanted to go, but I was outvoted and we went anyway. I walk into the bar and I’m fine. I tell myself I can handle this and sit at the table. No one was there, except us and some staff. The waitress was kind enough to bring us all waters while everyone decided what they wanted to eat or what alcohol they wanted. I chugged half the glass of water because I began to feel off and overwhelmed. My hands began to shake, I began to become extremely hot, and I knew what was coming. I took some breaths full well knowing I might have another breakdown but I didn’t want to have one in front of my friends nor the waitress.

Unfortunately, my mind snapped when one of my friends, who had come back from the bathroom, mentioned a nightclub right behind us and said we should all go in there afterword. I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed my chair back and ran out of the bar as fast as I could. Outside I had my 2nd attack. The hyperventilating and crying started, then the excessive shaking. After what felt like many many minutes the girl who mentioned the nightclub came out and wondered why I was so upset. Again, I tried but failed to tell her why I was so upset. During my attacks, the formation of words and thoughts are easy, getting them out is a whole different story. She tried to get me to calm down and eventually all my other friends came out to make sure I was ok. I told them I wouldn’t be able to walk back into that bar and I needed to just walk to let myself just get through the attack. We walked and Insaw a bookstore. I went inside and was able to calm down after just looking around. The atmosphere was calming and helped settle my mind.

After I was calm enough our group parted ways and I drove who I had taken back to the campus again. That night I didn’t sleep well, I was still crying a lot, remembering what had happened. I can almost smile about it now, thinking that I did something super cliché, running out of a bar. As I tell my one friend, at least it wasn’t because of a boy.

The next day I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened the night before, the scene of my running out of that bar played over and over in my mind. I had received an email that morning with a letter of rejection from one of the Vet schools I applied too. That really set me off and I ended up through one of my decorated coffee mugs from RA training week against my closet door. It, of course, shattered into a million pieces but I was too upset to clean it up or care. I texted one RA staff member I was close with to come down to my room as I was in desperate need for company. When she opened my door she immediately came over to me and hugged me. I could stop my 3rd attack from happening in front of her but she said nothing and just held me. She listened as I struggled to tell her what had happened the night before. After I had calmed down enough we went for a walk in the local park. Nature has always had a calming effect on me and she helped me take my mind off the incident. I was able to focus back on my work but the incident still lingers. I never told my parents what had happened, and probably never will.

When I went to the doctors, my mom told me before we walked into the office that if there was anything wrong, anything on my mind, today was the day to talk about it. I hadn’t told her about my other two attacks at school, I was debating whether or not to tell her. I had thought about telling the doctor and then based off her answer/response I would tell my mother. When I got into the exam room the nurse asked if there was anything I would talk to my doctor about her when she came in she would have an idea. I struggled to say it but I was able to get the word “anxiety” out. I’m a relatively emotional person I knew that if I was going to talk about what had happened that I would start crying. However, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to control the anxiety mounting up inside me any longer. It was only getting worse and I feared another attack would come when I least expected it. When the doctor came in I was able, with some time, get my experience across. When I finished she said I have anxiety and if I go on medication it will help balance out the chemicals in my brain.

If you had told me many years ago I would struggle with my mental health, such as anxiety, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. I like to be in control or my body, and I have almost always been in control. I always felt like I was strong enough to not need extra help because I believed I could handle any problem on my own. But lately the anxiety has gotten worse, the attacks were terrifying because I’ve never been so out of control before with my own body, and I saw that I couldn’t control it even if I pretended I did. Although I’m sure I probably should have gotten help it sooner, I was too afraid of what my parents would have said and if the doctor would have even believed me.

I hope that with this new medication I will begin to feel at more peace in mind and body than I feel now. And if this medication doesn’t work I am willing to work with my doctor to find another way. I told my one friend about starting the new medication and she is supporting me and I know she will be there if I need her. I don’t want to not be in control anymore and I want to start enjoying life again, the anxiety has kept me from doing a lot of things.

I don’t talk much about my personal life, but this is something I felt like I needed to share. Thank you for taking the time to read, with love ❤️

- Ships

#anxiety #mental health #i dont mind #personal #my life

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bangtanchantan · 6 years

Text

Get to know me ?

Answer and tag to pass it on...

Nickname: ChanChan, Shorty, Little bull 😏

Gender: Female

Sign: Virgo

Height: 148.5cm (4ft10)

Age: 20 (but mentally like 8)

Favourite band/solo artist: BTS/Ed Sheeran

Song stuck in my head: 달리 (Dally) by Hyolyn!

Last movie I saw: Deadpool 2

Last thing I googled: Tension Pneumothorax (I’m a student nurse, studying for exams)

Other blog: N/A

Do I get asks: never. I’m a lonely creature.

Why I chose my username: cause BTS + Chan (my name) = Bangtan Chan-tan

Following: 611 (I like to keep my feed fed)

Average amount of sleep: 6 hours

Lucky number: 23

What am I wearing: my super fluffy pyjama set I got for $15 from k-mart

Dream job: Nurse Practitioner (I wanna help people – unrealistically wanna to be a make-up artist, but I’m not pursuing that and probably never will)

Dream trip: Korea & Japan and Europe backpacking trip

Favourite food: Dolsot Bibimbap or this Malaysian Assam Laksa (I can’t pick between rice or noodles, I am a true Asian)

Play any instruments: Guitar and Piano (not well)

Favourite Songs: *mental breakdown*

Play(ed) any sports: Tennis, Hockey, Netball, Rugby, Basketball (I’m a sporty person despite my height, or lack thereof)

Hair colour: naturally – dark brown, currently – red/orange highlights

Eye colour: chocolate/russet brown (its like a dark reddish brown colour)

Most-iconic song: Save Me - BTS

Languages you speak/are learning: English is my first language, I have basic conversational mandarin skills and can understand Hokkien (dialect of Malaysia).

Random fact: When I was in my final year of high school I applied for a scholarship which would lead me to become a nurse in the army. However, when I got to the physical test phase, I was told I was too short and had to be rejected. It was the first time in my life where I genuinely hated the fact I was so short and I cried for a week.

Describe myself as an aesthetic: A cosy corner in a bookstore coffee shop with bean bags OR day at the theme park with friends (interpret that as you will)

Thank you @vanillasyndrome for tagging me ^_^

I’m trying to get to know my mutuals better; I’ve been a bit caught up in reality so have been a bit inactive. Tagging some recent mutuals because yay new friends ^_^ @jinspizzeria @prez-of-the-kings @badvibestae @vaingl0ry @hoseokseuphoria @whatevz-hopeworld @imtotallynotfiree @min-baby-boy-yoongi @agusttholly @hopelessjhooooooope @lunejoon @taehyvngee @yoongalaxii

Feel free to read or ignore 🙃

#about me #personal #text post #i'm back?#sorry i've been inactive #i'm dead #save me pls #mutuals #tagged #tag game

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fayepratas · 3 years

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I am so lost.

So last night I wrote out my life's goal 50 times. It was an assignment I was doing on a self-development course I’m partaking in. I was asked what my goal was. It was made clear that a goal cannot be something you think you can obtain. Makes sense. Working within the frame of comfort cannot bring about any real growth. And that’s the aim, right? To grow and develop. So, the task comes up. What’s your goal? And all I can think is how hard a question that is. What do I want to achieve in my life? Okay Faye, take it back. What am I interested in.? What light’s me up? (And this goes back to my last blog about creativity). I know that I am a creative person, as we all are. And I know that I have something great to give the world, that will ultimately make it a better place. But for the life of me I cannot pinpoint what my goal is. And to be honest I’m not even sure if I just don’t know what it is, or if I do know, and it's just so beyond comfortable that I cannot visualise it or even make it real in my head. Make sense?

Let me tell you a little something about how the brain works. You see, to have anything in the world, you first have to imagine it. Want Pizza for tea? What do you do? You imagine it; its taste and its smell. And then you strategize how you're going to obtain it. This is Dopamine at play. Dopamine is the motivator neurotransmitter. It not only makes you feel good about the thing you want, but it helps you plot how to get it. Now think of something a little less safe. Theres a job advertised. It’s right up your street. Anxiety sets in; ‘am I good enough?’ But you’ve wanted an opportunity in this field for a while and so you’re motivated by the feeling you’ll get if you get the job. You go for it. Dopamine. But here’s where I am. I’m thinking of a goal so big that I'm not even sure it could be achieved in one life time. So vast that I have nowhere near enough knowledge or experience to see it through. So much could go wrong. And there it is. The negative self-talk. See, the mind doesn’t care about our overall happiness. It cares about keeping us safe. And the stupid reptilian part of our brain responsible for the fight-or-flight response doesn’t know what it protecting us from. All it knows is you're thinking about something that scares you, something you are not familiar with, something that is all risk with no guarantee of any reward. Why would your subconscious brain push you into a whole world of fear?

But, if we can push past this fear, the human minds imaginative capabilities are limitless. And what can be imagined, can be created. Take a chair, for example. Nobody marvels at a chair these days, but can you imagine how bizarre a concept it would have been before it had been created? And the Internet. Oh man! What an absolutely mind-boggling concept! And now we could never go back to pre-internet days. With this in mind it makes it entirely possible and plausible that anything YOU and I want can be materialised, if only we can imagine it. And for anybody reading this who has a dream; something that they dare to imagine could be possible one day, whether a business venture or app or whatever, I implore you with every ounce of me that is here on this planet right now to go and do it. That self-talk you have that tells you it can’t be done, or that you have other commitments that won't allow you to make your dreams a reality, that voice is lying to you! It perceives threat and is forcing you to retreat. Imagine all of the people that have lived and died without pursuing their goals. Where would humanity be now if Edison said, ‘I can’t do it because people are laughing at me’, or if Cristofori said ‘I can’t create the Piano because I don’t have enough time’. Imagine the world we’d be in right now. Steve Jobs. Laughed at. Ideas rejected. But he had a vision. And he followed that vision until he created what is now an absolute monster of a tech giant. These people did not have any more or any less creative ability than you or I. They just believed in their vision (the imagined concept) so much that the doubt and the ridicule and any other obstacles could not stand in the way of it. How empowering is it to know this?? It literally makes me want to jump up from my seat, grab my notebook and pen and create my future.

But if we are all creative, with unlimited creativity, why then do I feel so lost? Let's take a look at the kinds of things I have done in the past. My first meaningful job was 27. I worked in a care home with young people with emotional difficulties. It was the dream job. I’d started (and not completed, due to financial difficulties and un underlying belief that I wasn’t smart enough) a degree in Children and Young people. My aim at the time was to help children who had experienced the kind of childhood I had. I don’t know if I thought I was saving them, or if I was subconsciously still angry at those who had wronged me. Maybe both. I learned quickly, however, that my past experiences could truly help me empathise with the young people I supported (even if ‘saving them’ turned out to be a narrow-minded ideology). I grew heaps in that job. But the work hours took their toll on my own children, and so I swapped the role for that of a Learning Support assistant in a school. The school had young people with learning and/or emotional difficulties and at first, I struggled with the role. I have always been anti-school. I think it crushes dreams and takes away natural intuitive creativity. (I’ll write more about this another day, I'm sure!) but I quickly adapted to the school’s alternative teaching techniques. It was more about nurturing and confidence filling. I also got to work with young people who were on the autistic spectrum. I fell in love with this work. Learning about how they navigated in a somewhat alien world and then helping them with their struggles, encouraging their strengths, and even helping staff and neurotypical students to understand and adapt teaching methods was just something that really made me jump out of bed in the morning. I signed up for a degree on Autism, and became the Autism lead at the school. Then I had a breakdown. I had been putting my absolute everything in that job role. And all the while struggling to sleep for more than an hour or two, barely eating, and simply taking on too much work. There was too much I didn't know. There were so many variables I could not control, and I simply couldn’t manage the stress. I lived and breathed that job and it nearly killed me. It was the new year after this breakdown that I tried to commit suicide. It was a very dark time.

And while I feel mentally strong and healthy today, I really question if I am able to dream big anymore. I wonder if the experience of losing everything, including my children for a while, was so traumatic on my subconscious mind, that I really am blocked when it comes to chasing my dreams. Maybe I know deep inside what I'm meant to be doing? But I’m just so terrified of the feelings surrounding the breakdown that I’m shutting them down. Is that what I’m doing? Honestly, I don’t know the answer to that. The thought of working with young people on the spectrum is bittersweet. I feel sad that I stopped my degree; I wonder where I'd be now with it. But then they say (I'd really like to meet ‘those people’) that everything happens for a reason. I was literally forced by my own body to end that job. Can I go back? Should I? Do I even really want it? I don’t know. And it’s frustrating because I have done 35 years so far and I know that I am so capable of anything I want to achieve if only I would let myself. Why can’t I let myself? And I wonder how many like me are out there, feeling so lost yet being so open to the possibilities that this wonderful life has to offer?!

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kootenaygoon · 4 years

Photo

So,

I didn’t have to drive anymore.

With my clammy forehead pressed to the moist glass of my RAV’s passenger window, I felt like a dying star sucking back black energy in preparation for going supernova. As Mika motored along the undulating lakeshore across the Big Orange Bridge, worriedly drumming her elaborately painted nails on the steering wheel, I compiled a mental inventory of everyone I’d alienated, everyone I’d hurt and embarrassed and infuriated, all the names of people who I’d lost because of my berserk antics and toxic personality.

It wasn’t just the staff of the Star, Ed and Kai and all the rest of them. There was Blayne, and Becca, then Chelsea and now Natalya — plus Snapper and Niles, and a bunch of my co-workers at Tony’s. The list continued. Last of all I thought of Paisley, nearly two years gone now, along with our canine progeny and our dreams of a future together. I’d moved to Nelson with Muppet in my passenger seat four years earlier, and now I was leaving town completely alone.

It was around lunch-time and we were on our way to the Cranbrook Airport, which meant taking a ferry in Balfour. My parents had forwarded some money for gas and an overnight hotel stay for Mika and her two friends, who were chattering in the backseat. I wondered if she’d brought them because she was scared to be alone with me, if they were supposed to act as a social buffer so I didn’t overwhelm her with my manic ramblings. The last few days had been a torrent — I’d lost so many people already, was I going to lose Mika too?

I thought about the final montage of Six Feet Under, with all the different characters experiencing their ultimate fates while Sia sings. I wondered if I fast-forwarded to my death, would it actually be that far away? Would my departure be as incendiary as Ryan Tapp’s, as soul-shredding as Kessa’s, as Shakespearean as Bodie’s? I was 33, like Jesus when he was crucified, so any extra time was gravy. Right? I pulled out my phone and scrolled through Twitter, where opposing factions of the UBC Accountable conversation were flaming each other over new Galloway news. I continued to retweet and comment indiscriminately, relieved to have CanLit drama to think about rather than spectral Kessa and her dancing army of roller-skating women.

I could hear them singing.

“Oh-oh, I’m a rebel just for kicks now,” Laela sang in my brainspace, as a dude in white overalls danced through Sofiella Watt’s junkyard out in Blewett. “Let me kick it like it’s 1986, now.”

“Might be over now, but I feel it still,” I whispered under my breath, pulling up the YouTube video on my phone.

Then there was that scene in Mad Men where Don Draper fires Lane Pryce, who proceeds to commit suicide in his office. This was an experience plenty of other people had gone through, right? Losing your job, social exile. This shit was temporary. My mind was a hellscape at the moment, but that didn’t mean it would be forever. I watched the clouds dance above the surface of Kootenay Lake through the trees, replaying the events of the past few weeks like a newsreel. I thought of Face Tatooo in the rain, about my multiple visits to the hospital, the two police officers who showed up at my door after some of my more alarming social media posts. One of them was mohawked and heavily tattooed, named Armstrong.

“I’m just trying to find the truth,” I told him. “The real truth.”

“There’s not a whole lot of truth in this world,” he said, grim, sitting backwards on a fold-out chair in the middle of my living room. I’d just taken him on a tour around my house to look at all my latest paintings. One of them was for my CrossFit gym, and showed me overwhelmed in glittery rainbow paint drooling down the canvas like blood. I asked him whether we could take a selfie together, just to show everyone I was safe.

“I don’t see why not,” he said.

With my black toque pulled low over my eyes, I had posed with my arm around Armstrong’s back in solidarity. I could imagine the conversations on the other side of the screen: Why was there a cop in Will’s living room? And what’s all this nonsense about having a list of names, about fighting a kamikaze war against rape culture? I had thoroughly and completely lost track of reality, I understood that and I wasn’t shy about letting people know. But would they reject me now, exile me, ridicule me? Now that I’d been thrown from my journalistic plinth, did I even matter? I was just some dude playing at being a reporter. I could be replaced, forgotten about, made irrelevant.

“I did that job better than it’s even meant to be done,” I said, more to myself than anything else. “I gave that newspaper my soul.”

Mika nodded. “I think everybody knows that. It was obvious you were so into it. But you gotta think ‘it’s just a job’ too, you know? You’re going to have lots of jobs.”

“How does it make sense that I have to leave town and fucking assholes like Snapper and Cam Carpenter and John fucking Dooley get to just continue on with their lives like nothing happened. I mean, I’m the good guy here. How the fuck does this make any sense? It’s not fair.”

Mika sighed. “It doesn’t need to make sense. You just need to get back to your family and get some sleep. This is all going to get sorted.”

I blinked back some more tears, fiddled with the radio some more, then took careful long inhales through my nose as I starred out at the frosted white tips of looming evergreens. We were almost at the terminal now. This is all a moment, I told myself, and moments end.

“Hey, what’s with all the police cars?”

There was no way to escape the moment. Every thought was uncomfortable, my body clenched and sweaty. Had that just happened, or was I just being dramatic? Had I really considered throwing myself off the back of the ferry? What the fuck was wrong with me?

After we reached the opposite shore, Mika pulled over to share a joint with me at a quiet boat launch alongside the road. We were shivering in the wind off the lake. Everything else seemed drained of colour, but her hair was a bombastic fire engine red. It reminded me of Mharianne’s pink hair, and Sierra’s hair as well. All these signs led back to Me Too, back to UBC Accountable and Steven Galloway and even my pastor Trent. I thought of my time in the subterranean tunnels below Nelson with Gordo, of the crypts waiting there. The whole town was built on a graveyard, the lake full of drowned souls, and ghosts swirled through the alleyways. Looming above it all was Elephant Mountain, rumbling to life like a buried diety returning to the light, throbbing with purple energy and ready for resurrection. His followers danced shoulder-to-shoulder on Baker Street in flamboyant Shambhala outfits, totems held aloft, while zig-zagging lights pulsed in time with their ecstatic ululations. Were they worshipping? Or praying? Or what?

“Can I have a hug?” I asked her.

She hesitated for a moment. Shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

It was a weak hug, without any warmth. I felt pathetic and needy as I sucked back the last few hoots on the joint. I owed this girl a lot, but I couldn’t expect our friendship to survive long past this. She was just my latest casualty.

“I really appreciate you driving me, and everything. You didn’t ask to be a crazy person’s roommate.”

She grimaced, shrugged against the wind. “You’re not crazy. But you should’ve worn a condom, and you shouldn’t have taken those fucking pills while you were at work. I know you’re going through a lot, but these were bad choices. Do you understand that?”

I blinked for a long moment, surprised. It was like being lectured by a younger sibling. “I hate myself every day. I’m doing this whole mental inventory thing and I know I’m an asshole, okay? I really fucked up, I get that.”

She squinted suspiciously. “Do you?”

A while later, as the evening sky turned the colour of milky coffee, we pulled into the airport parking lot. I’d already left my cell phone and computer behind, and just had a simple carry-on. I tightened my tie and checked my reflection in the glass, jutting out my chin dramatically. I’m dressing up for my breakdown. I didn’t know what was going to happen on the other side of this flight, but I was going to face it in bouncer black. I pushed my pink anti-bullying glasses into place, the last piece of my uniform. I thought of that elementary school flash mob, of the pink shirt I’d worn for years. Bully Free Zone. I thought of my Power by You canvas, about doing hand-stand push-ups and burpees until I left a sweat angel on the ground. I was an intelligent, passionate and talented motherfucker and this wasn’t the end of me. No way.

“Your plane’s not for a few hours, are you sure you’ll be okay?” Mika asked, pulling her coat tight against the wind. It was starting to rain a bit.

“You should go ahead and get checked into your hotel. I’ll get a magazine or something. And I’ll let you know when I get to Vancouver. You don’t have to worry about me, okay? You did what you had to do.”

She bit her lip. “I want you to be okay.”

“I will be.”

This time we didn’t bother with a hug. She climbed back into the driver’s seat and pulled away, illuminating red rain puddles all around the RAV. She was safe now, and so was I. Lugging my bag over one shoulder, I headed to the ticket booth to arrange my way home. The Cranbrook landscape was strangely flat and barren, stretching out on all sides around me. There was a plane taxiing down the runway, its engine roar filling my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut against the rain, which was beginning to spray, and suddenly I was the narrator from Fight Club on the day his condominium was blown up by Tyler Durden. Staring at the smoking wreckage of my refrigerator, sifting through the blackened detritus of my life, his words echoed back to me: It’s only when we lose everything that we’re free to do anything.

Right during that moment, as I contemplated the fact that Brad Pitt plays both Tyler Durden and Lt. Aldo Raine from Inglourious Basterds, a cherry red convertible pulled up to the curb. Andrew Stevenson was sprawled across the backseat with his shotgun, smoking a cigarette, Ryan Tapp dangled his arm from the passenger side window and Kessa was driving in her bare feet. She had the radio on high, playing Tove Lo.

“Imaginary friend, stay with me to the end now,” she sang, but it was Laela’s voice I heard. “Keeping me dreaming.”

I opened the passenger door for Ryan, and he bounded out of the seat with a theatrical flourish. He threw open his arms crucifixion-style, rolled his head around a few times, then took a long drag from his vape. Andrew passed him his bag, and he hooked it over his arm.

“I’m a rebel just for kicks now. I don’t know if you heard,” I said.

“Man, I’ve been following it all. You’re a fucking legend, man. Fuck that town, right? You went out Cobain-style, with a shotgun, you burned that shit down. You’re a magical soul. You’re a light.”

I blushed. “I didn’t get any of the answers, though.”

He pondered this for a moment, while Andrew climbed into the passenger seat behind him and pulled the door closed. Kessa put on her blinker and began to pull away, leaving me, just like Paisley and Blayne and Chelsea and every other fucking woman in my life. How many divorces did I have to go through? How many times would my heart be broken? I didn’t know how much more pain I could take, all my empathy for strangers.

“Look at you, giving a fuck when it’s not your turn to give a fuck,” Ryan said, doing his best impression of Bunk from The Wire.

I channeled McNulty. “What the fuck did I do?”

If on some level I was aware that I was standing in public, talking to myself, then this other part of me didn’t care anymore. I was like a character from a Denis Johnson short story, like a drug-addled Hunter S. Thompson mixed with Chuck Klosterman, maybe. I was capable of so much. I could make all of these inner minions dance on cue; my life was performance art. Nobody understood me, really, or what I was trying to accomplish. Not Spencer, not my parents, not Brendan or anyone. The only one who understood was Ryan Tapp. His bum-chin wagging joyously, I admired his close-fitting blue suit and his skinny tie. He was dressed like he was attending the opening night of some film festival, like he was ready to hit the red carpet. He took a lengthy, mischievous pull on his vape and smiled seductively.

“Where we headed next, Goon?”

The Kootenay Goon

0 notes

borderlynn · 6 years

Note

1-70 I want to know it all in great detail

I see, the key to getting asks is to passive-aggressively tag your friends.

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

Anyone who has ever known me in real life knows I absolutely do not. I have an alcoholic, compulsive liar for a mother and an absent father, plus some grandparents who are so convinced that they are my actual parents that they would probably kick me out if they learned I refer to them as my grandparents. Fun times.

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

Either my dog or yours lol. I don’t like telling people I love them. That’s something to be shown through your actions, otherwise the word loses its meaning.

03: Do you regret anything?

I don’t even know where to start with this one. I’ve regretted basically every major decision I’ve made, and I probably shouldn’t be allowed to think for myself. If I had to name a few things that I regret right now, I would say I regret spending my spring break being so bitter. I really did have a good time, but I would have enjoyed myself more if I hadn’t tried to make it about me. My other big regret at the moment is cancelling my campus residence app. I screwed myself out of a guaranteed place and now I’m stuck with a bunch of drama and uncertainty. Also, there’s a friend that I’ve had for years and there were times when I was pretty horrible to her and she stuck with me despite it. I wish I had been mature enough at the time to be the person she needed in her life, instead of causing drama.

04: Are you insecure?

Extremely. I have a lot of insecurities about my body, mostly my face and hair, but a lot of my family in underweight and it was kind of instilled in me, that to be attractive I had to be underweight, like I remember when I started high school I made it a goal to stay below 110lbs until after graduation. I was still growing so that goal was as unrealistic as it was unhealthy. I’ve struggled with disordered eating since I was like 12. Other than that I can be really insecure about asking for the things I want and need. One of my biggest fears is people seeing me as selfish.

05: What is your relationship status?

I’m a single Pringle! I was in a relationship for a few months, but I got dumped because I consistently put my friends before her, which is funny because I’m in the middle of some conflicts with friends over not talking with them enough. I’ve been on a few dates and stuff since then, but I’m in a bad place right now mental health wise, so being single is probably for the best rn.

06: How do you want to die?

This is kind of dark, but I don’t really care how I die as long as I’m in control of how it happens. If there’s a really wild and interesting story involved that would be even better.

07: What did you last eat?

I’m munching on some green chili peanuts with a crap ton of Diet Coke. I’m at home right now so I’ve been eating way more than usual.

08: Played any sports?

I used to do ballet, gymnastics, contemporary and jazz, as well as various ballroom dances. I’ve blocked most of it out and lost a lot of my flexibility, but I would love to return to ballet at some point. I miss gymnastics too, but I’m too tall for it lol.

09: Do you bite your nails?

I’ve always been weirdly prideful of my nails and the thought of biting them has always freaked me out, like my nails are my babies. Keeping them nice is a big deal to me so my chompers can stay the hell away lmao

10: When was your last physical fight?

I’ve never actually been in a physical fight. The closest encounters were last semester, when my old roommate got a concussion from a crazy person that used to live with us, and a few years ago when I let a friend slap me.

11: Do you like someone?

I’m assuming this means like like. I’m not super interested in dating right now, but there have been people that have sparked my interest recently.

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

I am smol and weak. My fragile shell of a body would actually start to disintegrate if I tried this. I’ve only made it to 24hrs once and my body like completely shut down.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

I don’t like using the word hate for the same reasons I don’t like using the word love. There are people that I will not associate myself with and there are people in my life that I don’t feel any positive emotions towards, but there isn’t anyone that I could comfortably say I hate.

14: Do you miss someone?

There are a lot of people from my life a few years back that I really miss, but I have to remind myself that I was a different person then, and some bonds are meant to be broken. I also really miss a lot of the friends I have at school. I take them for granted until we’re apart and then I feel all hallow, like part of me left too and that really sucks.

15: Have any pets?

I have a Chihuahua-weiner mix. He’s super old and he doesn’t have a tail and his name is Bob. He’s great. My aunt’s dog is basically my dog too, and he’s a pit mix. His name is Chester and he is actually a giant teddy bear. My friends have a doggo too, her name is Gwen and I am her aunt. She is the most talented and amazing fluffer who deserves the world.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

I’m at that weirdly numb point right now where emotions are like a foreign concept to me. I’ve been super stressed and I have a lot of pretty serious decisions at the back of my mind that I can do nothing about at the moment. I’m super behind on my schoolwork and with all this stress, I know I can’t catch up. It’s super frustrating and there’s been a lot of drama amongst my friend group, making me feel like I can’t really trust anyone in my life right now. My age has been preventing me from doing so much recently and since my birthday is around the corner, even the people who claim to understand have been super condescending about my anger over it. There have also been a lot of deaths recently in the city where I go to school, and I’ve learned that death is a bit of a trigger for me, so that hasn’t been fun. I feel like I’m one serious breakdown from being there myself and that’s super scary.

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

Somehow, no.

18: Are you scared of spiders?

When I was little I was really afraid of spiders and would go out of my way to have them killed. I had intense breakdowns whenever I thought a web touched me. Now, I regret having hurt innocent creatures and I think spiders are really cool. Leave the land crabs alone!

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

Yeah, knowing what I know now, I think that it would be cool to try and get myself to the point where I am now, but without a lot of the drama.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

My dorm room lol.

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

I’m taking a greyhound back to my college town on Saturday, and Sunday I’m returning to my normal schedule. I’m not looking forward to that eight hour bus ride.

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

I’m kind of a lone wolf, and I really want to travel so kinds aren’t really in the picture, at least not until I’ve gotten my doctorate. Even then I would either adopt or use a donor, and I wouldn’t have more than two.

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

Right now only my ears are pierced, but I plan on getting my septum done in May, followed by a double medusa. I also really want dimples and a brow done. Eventually I’d do my nipples and stomach as well.

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

I’ve always been geared toward the liberal arts. I love all things involving art, history, and languages. I low-key have always enjoyed math too. I’m working on my bachelors in comparative cultural studies with minors in queer studies and museum studies. I want to carry that on to a masters in gender studies and a phd in Buddhist art. After that I’d like to go back to school fo economics and eventually obtain a masters in economic history.

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

I miss people from my past when I’m unsatisfied with the people currently in my life. I have to remind myself that they aren’t around anymore for a reason and that it’s more important to work on the relationships that are relevant. Dwelling on the past does more harm than good.

26: What are you craving right now?

Some love and affection? I’m not craving anything really. I could just use some peace and quiet.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Yes. I’ve broken an ex’s heart when I ended the relationship. I was unhappy, to the point where I cheated. This was also the point when I started to question if I was actually a lesbian. I dumped him and never told him why. I broke my friend’s heart when I led her on, but then rejected her because I was in love with someone else (who did something similar to me). I broke my aunt’s heart when I told her I felt like I don’t have a family. I broke my biological mother’s heart when I made it clear that I didn’t want her in my life. I’m pretty good at the whole hurting others thing.

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

It’s very possible, but if someone did, they never told me.

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

I can’t name a specific time, but I’m sure it’s happened.

30: What’s irritating you right now?

What isn’t irritating me right now? Oh my god.

31: Does somebody love you?

I’ve had a lot of people tell me they do, but I have a hard time feeling it most of the time.

32: What is your favourite color?

I love every color, and I don’t like making colors feel left out, so my favorite changes a lot. Right now it’s yellow, because yellow is a bright, warm, happy color. I also really like pink. The pastels of both of those are 10/10

33: Do you have trust issues?

I legit don’t even trust myself. The only person I honestly trust 100% is my aunt. I have really bad trust issues, but I also overshare a ton. My life is a cycle of sharing my life story and then panicking.

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

The other night I went to sleep while drunk and I had this wild dream where I met someone, learned his whole life story, flirted and eventually fell in love with him, came out to him, saying I’m not sexually attracted to guys (he came out as ace too so it was perf), and then he was hit by a car, causing irreparable brain damage. I woke up right after, but that dream will haunt me.

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

My aunt. I was updating her on my life in college, and it’s been less than ideal.

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

I’m a huge believer of forgive but don’t forget. I used to be so bad about grudges that I would be angry even after forgetting what I was upset about. I guess I have the opposite issue here.

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

Forgive. Like I said above, I might forgive you, but knowing what someone did before will always leaving me searching for instances of them doing it again. Trust issues who?

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

It’s only March and I already know that it will be one of the worst years of my life. Ugh.

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

I think I was thirteen. I didn’t know how I felt about guys at the time and I almost puked in that poor dude’s mouth.

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

I have, and it was terrifying. Midday skinny dipping wasn’t one of my greatest ideas.

51: Favourite food?

Avocado on toast with a poached egg on top, muffuletta, yellow curry, and eggs benedict are my top ones.

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Absolutely. I didn’t really believe this until my roommate’s big fight last year. So much happened in one night, that wouldn’t have happened if we had done things even a second later. It was wild, but it was like there was so much pent up negative energy that the universe needed to release, and it found a way to make that happen.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

I put some food away.

54: Is cheating ever okay?

The thing about cheating is that it’s when you go out of your way to do something with someone else when you know it would hurt your current partner. It’s something that happens when you aren’t happy in your relationship, and in a lot of cases it can be a cry for help. It is hurtful and a sign that a relationship isn’t meant to be, but cheaters shouldn’t always be villainized.

55: Are you mean?

I can be, but I try not to.

56: How many people have you fist fought?

None, lol

57: Do you believe in true love?

Not really. There are so many people that we have things in common with or who exist on the same wavelength. We might find someone that makes us happy for a long while, but nothing is permanent.

58: Favourite weather?

I love hot, sunny days when you can leave windows open, wear shorts, and only drink things with ice.

59: Do you like the snow?

I lived in Alaska for over nine years before moving to the Sonoran desert. I moved to Northern Arizona for school, and when I saw snow again, it was as an adult who only saw the negative aspects of it. I hate being cold.

60: Do you wanna get married?

I don’t see myself ever being married. I would have to really love someone if I were to actually settle down and start a life with them. Right now I really only see it as something that would tie me down.

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

I honestly hate baby as a pet name. It freaks me out. The only pet names I find cute are the unusual ones, like once when an ex accidentally called me cornbread.

62: What makes you happy?

Getting my nails done, binging my favorite show (Archer), travel, doggos, wandering around in stores with my music blasting so I can feel like I’m somewhere away from my problems, seeing people impressed with food I made, completing a project and being proud of my work, etc.

63: Would you change your name?

I hate my birth name, but I’m also afraid I’ve been conditioned to feel that way by my grandparents as a way to attack my bio mom. Because of that, I’ve been going by my middle name and various nicknames. Most people close to me call me Abby, but my favorite thing is to be called Lynn. I’m pretty hesitant to legally change it though.

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

Yeah, the last person I kissed kinda sexually assaulted me, and I’d like to avoid that.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Reject them as nicely as possible. Dating would be bad for me right now, and I’m pretty sure I’m not sexually attracted to men.

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

I don’t think I have a best friend, period. I don’t think I’m entirely myself around anyone through. Different people will bring out different parts of my personality.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

Not sure tbh.

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

My aunt. The conversation we had about my life at school was pretty emotional.

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

No, for the same reason I don’t believe in true love. Life is too impermanent for there to be someone our soul fits with perfectly. There is too much change for something to be predetermined like that.

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

Anyone who has ever been somewhat nice too me. Honestly though I would be willing to die for a lot of people. The thought of anyone else having to suffer really sucks and if I can save them from that, I would.

#long post #thanks shelbs

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nelliievance · 4 years

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Meditation Is More Than Stress Relief: The Transformational Path

In a recent post, I mentioned that I’ve tried to reframe sheltering-in-place during the Covid-19 crisis as a retreat. This has worked pretty well. I’ve made progress in my “mental fitness” during this time, so I’ve decided to go into a few blog posts about it, which this post will kick off.

Meditation is great for relieving stress and other health effects, as I reviewed here. But if you practice it and other disciplines that go along with it consistently, its benefits go beyond that. We know there are some healthful aspects of physical fitness, but if you put in the astonishing amount of dedication elite athletes put in, you can totally transform yourself physically. There is a mental analogy to this. The more you put into it, the more you get out.

Many people, myself included, believe that we can aspire to becoming a better version of ourselves: kinder, calmer, more compassionate, etc. There are specific techniques to do this, and if you follow them consistently, they form a “path” to follow. This is often referred to a spiritual path, but “spiritual” can have connotations, like the occult or wearing exotic robes and burning incense, that can turn some people off, so I prefer to call it transformational.

I’ve been following such a path since 1992, as I’ll describe in a bit. All the world’s religions have some concept of a higher self [1,2]. But this higher self, or better version of yourself, can also be interpreted psychologically and through neuroscience. For example, if you can calm down your amygdala a bit and improve the activity of your prefrontal cortex, you can overreact less and think things through more. Also, as I recently described, we can change our brains by using willpower. By working at it diligently, we can train our brains and get better at it.

This allows us to live less compulsively, as in being more able to enjoy eating healthy food but easily stop when we’ve had enough. Beyond that, it helps us to live from our highest ideals, being more loving, kinder, compassionate, less hostile and selfish.

Practicing transformational techniques does not require joining a monastery or ashram or living in a cave in the Himalayas, but can be done as part of regular life. This introduction is for motivation. Subsequent posts will go into the details of how to do it.

My Story

I was raised as a Catholic in the pre-Vatican II era, including attending first and second grade in Catholic school. My exposure to religion was pretty negative, with a picture of a stern, judgemental God. The purpose of being good, and following the ten commandments, was to assure going to the good place instead of the bad when I died. I was not exposed to the notion that ethical behavior might actually make me a happier person now I rejected this belief system upon reaching adulthood, but didn’t replace it with anything else because I was too busy making my way in life. This happened around the time I left West Point.

I’ve mentioned previously that I attended West Point for plebe year in 1970. That had been a childhood dream. I had an Uncle I admired that was a career Army officer, and his son was a historian who regaled me with stories of heroic deeds of my ancestors. 1970 was unfortunately not a good time to be there, it was the height of the Vietnam war and morale was not great, so it was a pretty cynical place. I was disillusioned by the end of the first year (plebe year) and left. I at least can take pride that I didn’t leave because I couldn’t hack it, because plebe year is the toughest. But this ended up being a bad idea psychologically. It was pointed out to us, while I was there, that one of the purposes of plebe year is to break you down, so they can then build you back up as a future leader. Having left at that point, I had been through the breaking down part, but not the building back up part.

So I went home with the dreams of my youth unfulfilled. I questioned a lot of my earlier beliefs at that time, which fit in well with the counterculture attitude prevalent in society at the time. Fortunately I had my then girlfriend, Karen to provide an anchor or I may have run off to a hippie commune or something. I was also an angry young man, tending to overreact. Things that perhaps should have annoyed me made me lose my temper. I don’t know how Karen hung with me during that period. But with her help I made it through school and graduated as a civil engineer. My temper still reared its ugly head occasionally. Thank goodness I was never physically abusive, but I would yell when I “lost it”.

Slide Mountain in the Catskills

Around this time I had the first of a few spontaneous “transcendent” experiences I’ve had. It was my first time hiking in the mountains for fun. I had done plenty of hiking at West Point with full a pack and an m14 rifle, but not for fun. I was on a trip with some college friends to hike up Slide mountain, the highest in the Catskills of New York at 4190 feet. I wasn’t in the greatest of shape at the time so it was a long slog. We got to the top, where we would camp for the night, just as the sun was going down. I could see a beautiful panorama. This took my breath away, but also temporarily took my thoughts away. I felt incredibly at peace and at one with all I saw. So a little before John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain high” came out, I guess I had a Catskill mountain high. I didn’t know what to make of the experience, it did not occur to me there might be techniques for cultivating feeling this way. But I think it planted a seed of loving nature and I always seek to have some sort of blissful peak experience when I’m doing athletic adventures. Trail runners call it “looking for the pixie dust”. You can’t force it, I’ve found, but you can encourage the conditions that allow it. I’ve had a few of these experiences since, always in beautiful settings: like seeing an incredible view of the milky way at high elevation in Colorado, or watching the sunset over the ocean in Pacific Grove.

I now took my first full time job, working for a civil engineering consulting firm in Camp Hill (central Penssylvania). I liked it for the first few months, it was exciting to be using engineering concepts, and techniques I’d learned in school, for something useful (designing water treatment plants). But when we started our second project I realized it was pretty similar to the first. I wasn’t learning much new. I could see a future of this stretched out in front of me, and it seemed pretty dull, so I was depressed.

This was around the time that transcendental meditation (TM) was at its peak of popularity. The Beatles had been to visit Maharishi in India, and TM had been highlighted on the cover of Time magazine. It was being touted for scientifically proven benefits, which appealed to me. So Karen and I signed up for a course that lasted several nights and learned TM. We practiced it pretty diligently for the first few months (twice a day, 20 minutes), and it helped. The technique (explained in the next post under mantra meditation) was effortless. The ceaseless chatter in my mind just naturally calmed, at least for short stretches, and I felt at peace. Yes it did relieve stress. But in my case it had a more profound effect. It practically cured my temper. I won’t say I never raised my voice since, but it took much more provocation, I no longer “flew off the handle at the drop of a hat”. This was a pretty solid example that meditation can actually make a dramatic change in your personality. I later learned of the work of Dr. Herbert Benson (author of The Relaxation Response) and realized the benefits could have come from various meditation techniques, they were not limited to TM.

Around this time we moved to northern California where I continued to work as a Civil engineer, this time on sewage treatment plants. That didn’t always work out well at dinner parties. “So, what do you do for a living?”. But the work done nationwide on quality of sewage treatment in that era improved water quality considerably, which I was glad to be a part of. Nevertheless, the actual work was still pretty dull for me. Fortunately I was able to get into grad school at Stanford, and got a fellowship so I could afford it.

That was huge for me, I now went through several years of profound learning, and afterwards I never had a dull job. I was always working on cutting edge things and continued to learn. Meditation had been long forgotten by this point, because I didn’t feel I needed it. But while my temper remained calmed down, life was still not perfect. Any job has some tedium, even an interesting one. And there are always personality issues with neighbors, coworkers etc. But life was still pretty good.

My first job was with the the US National Bureau of Standards in Boulder, Colorado (now National Institute of Science and Technology). The work was great, and so were my co-workers, and Boulder was beautiful. If we had moved straight from New Jersey or Pennsylvania to Colorado, I think Karen and I would still live there. Unfortunately we’d been spoiled by the northern California weather and after 3 years we moved back. This time I got work at IBM research in south San Jose.

IBM Almaden Research Center. I was working here, and got to ride my bike to work on a nice country road. And I left for another job with a horrible commute in North San Jose? Hmmm…

Hitting Bottom

After three years I quit my job at IBM research to do a start up. That was a much more stressful environment because of all the pressure we were under, and it also involved a nasty commute. This came to a head a few years later during the buildup to a big new software release where I really felt the spotlight was on me. I was using running to control my stress, but got injured so I couldn’t do that for awhile. I got so stressed out I didn’t sleep much for about 3 weeks, and ended up having a breakdown and spent a few days in a hospital. Wake up call, big time!

After this I went to a therapist for a while. It came out that part of me regretted having quit West Point, and part of me wished I had never gone at all. I was 39, and here I was deciding one way or another I’d ruined my life with a mistake I made as a teenager. We worked through this, and I felt ready to move on. But I figured there had to be a better way to live and something was missing.

Discovering the Transformational Path and the Perennial Philosophy

That was when I blundered into Eknath Easwaran’s book Conquest of Mind [1]. There was an interesting serendipity in that particular book being the one the bookstore had: I was still pretty skeptical of religion at the time, and could have been easily turned off. It turned out that of all his books, Conquest of Mind was based mostly on Buddhist teachings, and had the subtitle “Take charge of your thoughts and reshape your life through meditation”. The emphasis was very practical, but introduced me to what I now call the transformational path. I had always been into amateur athletics in one form or another as a hobby, and Easwaran made the analogy of how hard someone would train to go to the Olympics, and said if you put that kind of effort into meditation and what he called allied disciplines, you could dramatically change your life for the better. I was hooked. This book had an appendix with a brief description of his transformational program, which I followed diligently.

After a couple of months, I read his book Meditation which gave more detail about his style of meditation and the other disciplines, as well as showing that these teachings could be found in the core of all the world’s religions or could be interpreted psychologically,. By now I was more prepared to consider that idea. Of especial interest to me was how this related to Christianity. He described the lives and writings of St. Francis of Assisi, St. Theresa of Avila, and others. Now why was I never told about them in Catholic school as a kid?

This was my introduction to the concept of the perennial philosophy: this is a concept dating back at least to the renaissance in the west, and further in Asia, that “all religions, underneath seeming differences, point to the same Truth”. Human beings have a false self, referred to as the “ego” or “small self” which is basically the combination of our instinctive behaviors and our untrained minds. Through transformational practice we can transcend this, and discover our true nature, which is one with ultimate reality. This reality is referred to in most religions by terms like cosmic consciousness, God, or in Native American wisdom as “the Great Spirit”.

In Buddhism, however, it is often not specified. Teachers will just say “go and see for yourself”. But our true nature is described in terms like “pure unconditioned awareness” [2]. This is why Buddhism is more accessible to skeptics and amenable to scientific inquiry, because it does not require belief in something which might be thought of as “supernatural” [3]. Of course, this all made me wonder if the spontaneous peak experiences I’d had were some sort of glimpse into my true nature (or a glimpse of ultimate reality), and eager to try techniques to make that type of experience more accessible.

I read books by various other authors at the time, from various traditions, including The Miracle of Mindfulness by Thich Nhat Hanh, and books on Insight Meditation and Centering Prayer, coming away convinced that there are many valid approaches but with common elements.

That all started around 1992, and I have been following the path ever since, with varying degrees of diligence. The same is true for my physical training, it ebbs and flows, but I never let it go to less than about 30 minutes a day, while other times I may get more enthused and train for a marathon, a century bike ride, or equivalent. With self-transformation, I keep meditation up at least 30 minutes a day, and sometimes do more, and I vary in how well I follow the other elements. I also try to be mindful, one of the elements, as often as I remember to.

Benefits

The result of 28 years of doing this? I haven’t reached enlightenment or Nirvana, but I’m a lot calmer. I don’t sweat the small stuff very much anymore. It feels like I’m in more control, like there is a slight buffer of time between stimulus and response. It’s nice to be able to catch myself and not overreact. I’m not always perfect at it, but a lot better than I used to be. And during meditation I often get glimpses of the feeling of “oneness” I mentioned, that previously only came spontaneously in peak experiences.

Some other benefits:

Calming your inner voice, the one that’s always commenting/interpreting/criticising, etc. In the book No, Self, No Problem, Dr. Chris Niebauer discusses the crucial importance of getting control of this inner voice from the perspective of neuroscience and psychology.

Behaving more inline with your highest ideals. Reading inspirational books, or going to church or temple may motivate us to be better people. But even if you believe in the golden rule, being kinder, more courageous, etc, it is easier said than done. because our behaviour is often more of a conditioned response than rational. I’ve found that meditation and similar disciplines can help.

As I mentioned, I’ve taken my practice up another notch during the Covid19 shutdown. And I’m starting to notice a difference. I mentioned previously how working on being more unconditionally loving towards my shelter-mate has benefitted us both. My meditation is going a bit deeper, I seem to be more mindful during the day, and able to make better decisions and act less compulsively, especially with my eating habits.

And what of my beliefs now, someone who started out pretty skeptical? What is this oneness? It’s possible it’s just some phenomenon in my brain, like my logical left brain has calmed down and my more holistic right brain has taken over. But it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like something more. It definitely doesn’t feel like some stern judgemental old guy on a throne in the clouds. It’s more like connecting with an unconditionally loving spirit or intelligence. Maybe this is what Native American’s mean by “the Great Spirit that moves through all things”. But I’m not trying to convert anybody. Go and see for yourself. For me, the journey on the transformational path to “go and see” is its own reward. It gives life meaning, helps me to better be of service, and makes me happier.

For those who think all of this might be useful, I’ll discuss the elements of self-transformation in my next post.

References

Easwaran, Eknath, Conquest of Mind, Nilgiri Press, 2019.

Richard, Matthieu, Singer, Rolf, Beyond the Self: Conversations between Buddhism and Neuroscience, MIT Press, 2017.

Batchelor, Stephen, Buddhism without Beliefs: A Contemporary Guide to Awakening, Riverhead Books, 1998.

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