#and the knowledge i could still find a job at my current workplace if I fail the bar

[ctl-yuejie]

love this system that is like "oh you work for 2 years while we barely pay you - it's not called a wage for a reason, duh - have you come to class and write an exam every week but in class - just for funsies - we won't actually teach you what you need to know for the exams but a lot of practical stuff which doesn't apply for your work because that is way more specialized"

glad i can skip the classes since i moved outside of town for this part. while i have to teach everything to myself, everyone in class is non the wiser and at least i don't lose the hours.

#ctlyuejie writes #really thought i could get some studying in until february since starting february my work schedule will be hell #but alas #idk how the people cope who have to work more hours than me #if i take anything away from this is that i am damn lucky with my supervisors #and the knowledge i could still find a job at my current workplace if I fail the bar #just had a meeting to discuss one of the mock exams: they are not allowed to hand out the correct solution just discuss it #and since a lot of it is the outline and basically formatting stuff it really isn't helpful to have someone explain where to put a signatur #and letter head etc with no visual aid #and there's also no textbook examples because every fucking region does it differently #i just love that in the exam i am drafting administrative decisions - letters to court - letters to citizens etc which in reality you'd use #internal templates for #but just for the nonsense of it all you have to memorize the formats for the bar (besides getting the material law correct obviously) #me copypasting the template for writing charges when i was working as a prosecutor vs me in the exam having to draw the state coat of arms #into the correct spot so i don't fail on a technicality #(guy who was correcting the mock exam got mad because i wrote “coat of arms” in letters instead of drawing it...my dude...it's a mock exam) #(i will draw the horse for the bar and not before that) #shouldn't have started my training in a state that has a horse on the coat of arms #also highly enjoyable how this must read like madness to anyone taking the bar in another country (besides the bar being madness anywhere) #at this point i have the equivalent of two bachelors two masters and a specialization and i still might not make it #just collecting fun letters that go behind my name

[americanwh0resstuff]

You look good, open casket good…

Chapter I, from the earth to the morgue…

When Amy’s old uni flat mate, Ravi, offers her a job in the police department morgue, just till she gets on her feet. But how will she react when she finds out about the existence of zombies? Especially when one particular zombie is this charming?

What?? An actual fanfiction with multiple chapters???? Yep I’m gonna try my best here…

Word count: 1,083

From the earth to the morgue…

“Okay… so the new mortician is from England?”

Liv asked, quickly downing her brain smoothie, eyeing up Ravi before their new coworker arrived.

“Well, Scotland but close enough… you Americans and your geography…” he rolled his eyes and chuckled, polishing the currently empty autopsy tables, making sure the entire morgue was spotless.

“Remember our agreement. No brains in the kitchen when she’s around, she’s already stressed enough from the move, I don’t think she needs the pressure of a zombie ME on her back.”

Liv rolled her eyes and came back with “what if I blend them up? Cover them in breadcrumbs? What if-“ she was cut short by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Ravi!!!” The duo turned on their heels to see a short women, covered in tattoos and a few piercings, but that’s not what stood out.

Their eyes studied her, her pale skin, dark sunken eyes, white streaks in her black hair.

Ravi looked shocked.

“Amy, you’re a-“

“Still a goth yeah I know… it never really was a phase.” She laughed at her own joke, giggling oblivious to their concerns.

“Right, yep, still a goth…” Ravi collected himself and shot Liv a look, both slightly relieved that the new mortician was not in fact undead.

Amy felt slightly uncomfortable in the silence, looking between the two and taking a step forward, extending her hand to Liv.

“Hi I’m Amy, Ravi mentioned you! Said you’re an amazing colleague!” She smiled wide as she shook her hand. “Nice hair! I had bleached hair for a while but it’s such a hassle! That’s why I stick with the highlights, less maintenance! How do you get your so white!?”

“Oh I-well I was already a blonde so… you know, less…bleach?” Liv questioned her own answer, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m sorry I’m talking your ear off, so where do I start?”

•••

About a week passed and the famous duo turned to the famous trio, Amy’s dark jokes and bubbly personality contrasting her darker look quickly became a staple in the workplace. Her knowledge of true crime and disturbing facts always amused Clive, her and Liv would have many fun chats about fashion and makeup, and it never phased her when her personality would changed.

As for her and Ravi, they still got along as they did in uni, constantly playing pranks on Liv, joking around and fighting over style choices on the deceased, to which Clive always disapproved. ~”cut that out! Ravi let her do her work, she’s the mortician… and I don’t think anyone should take fashion advice from you… dead or alive.”~

“Okay guys I’m heading out for lunch, anyone want anything?” Amy asked, grabbing her bag and making sure she had her purse.

“We’re all good thanks!”

Ravi smiled at her and watched her turn and head out the bay door, waiting till she was out of site before pulling out his phone.

Liv looked at him puzzled. “What are you up to now?”

“Calling Blaine, he’s upstairs waiting on his weekly checkup, and I’m not letting him near Amy, he doesn’t need to annoy her like he annoys us”

She chuckled at his panicked voice and nodded in agreement, he was right, Blaine can be a huge pain in the ass, and the less people he annoys the better, plus knowing him, he’s never able to meet a woman without hitting on her.

“Hey there doctor! How are you doing on this fine day!” Ravi rolled his eyes upon hearing his voice, taunting him with the smug look on his face.

“Sit here and be quiet.” Blaine cocked his eyebrow at Liv.

“Snappy. Who’s brain did you eat?”

She scoffed and turned back to the kitchen, preparing her lunch while she could.

Since she didn’t have much time, she kept it simple, pure old brains in a cup of ramen.

Blaine sat down on the autopsy table, rolling up his sleeves for the blood pressure cuff, looking up at the ceiling as the inspection went on in silence.

Until…

“I’m such an idiot, got all the way to the bagel shop before I realised it was closed on Wednesdays!”

They all looked up to see their human coworker standing at the door, in a room with two zombies…

Liv looked at Ravi in panic mouthing “say something!”

“Oh-you’re back ear-“

Blaine cut him off.

“And who are you? Looks like you’re new to team Z?” He took a good look at her, taking in her pale skin and blonde streaks. Ravi poked him in the back and tried to cut him off.

“I’m Amy!” She said enthusiastically, always friendly…

“I’m sorry, Team what?”

Blaine’s eyes widened and he sat up straight

“So you’re human… is this a style choice or?” She looked at him slightly confused but laughed it off.

“Oh don’t go making vampire jokes, I heard enough of those in high school.” She smiled and walked towards him on the table.

“Blaine DeBeers, nice to meet you, you have the most beautiful eyes…” he grasped her hand.

He could practically feel Ravi and Livs eyes rolling and burning into his back.

“…well then, looks like you’re all done here! See you next week.”

“Woah doc, you should work on your bedside manner, not very professional!”

Amy blushed lightly and looked down, she had to admit he was attractive, but something felt off, which was accentuated by her coworkers dirty looks towards him.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in here, don’t tell me you’re Ravis girlfriend, cuz I know that’s a lie!”

She laughed at his joke and looked over at Ravi, who she could swear was trying to telepathically murder the man in front of her.

“I’m a mortician, I just moved to Seattle, Ravi helped me get a job, it’s just short term, till I find something more secure… not a lot of people want their loved ones cared for in a police department.”

Blaine’s eyes lit up and he smirked at her before pulling a business card from his jacket.

“Well luckily for you… I run a funeral home, and I’m looking for a mortician, my numbers on the back, give me a call sometime.” He winked at her before turning towards the stairs.

“Well then, looks like I should get going, thanks again doc! See you next week.” He nodded towards Ravi and Liv before peering over his shoulder at Amy.

“And hopefully I’ll see you sooner.”

Chapter II

#blaine debeers #izombie #blaine mcdonough #blaine debeers x reader #Blaine DeBeers fanfiction #Blaine DeBeers x OC #original character #mortician #mortician oc #goth oc #izombie fanfiction #liv moore #ravi chakrabarti

[tppeportfolio]

Entry 7:

Reflection on the subject with respect to your starting point, new learnings and experiences, and how this will assist you from a career development perspective.

What I have found  over these three weeks of this subject is that it's proved to me how challenging I find it is to discuss  my strengths and try to sell myself to ultimately a stranger and figuring out the best way to do so. 

It has been significantly valuable to learn critical skills in the Process of applying for your potential future dream career, particularly writing out selection criteria answers of which I had never done before or had to complete in the past. 

Learning of our unique value proposition has been something that I find quite important as it's the first introduction an employer might get if a cover letter does not exist from your resume followed by including even my part-time job experiences and knowledge gained from them. From observing my peers and CVs as well as feedback from them and opinions from family members who are currently in a HR recruitment process, making your CV visually appealing and consolidating your information is where a positive first impression is made to your employer. 

I originally started this subject a month ago having not been as prepared as I feel I am now for this recruitment process for The Internship.  I originally had just my resume written that I would give to potential job applications for various customer service work,  whereas now I feel I am moving quickly towards my professional working career with a formally  written cover letter,  a resume to go with it and Knowledge on how to go about  answering selection criteria impressively. 

I also want to acknowledge the copious amounts of industry knowledge myself and my peers have gained from the number of guest speakers we were lucky enough to hear from over these three weeks.  What I valued most is hearing from them what the key aspects they look for in their ideal candidate and How to nail the interview, especially since they came from The Internship Partners that we could potentially be working with this year. As I know from my time at Subiaco footy club,  there isn't quite as informative and valuable advice as that coming from someone who has already spent years in the sports industry. 

I still remain aware that the best position I can put myself in into making myself a more desirable candidate is to not only highlight my tangible skills I have like also to continue to put myself out there and Gain as much work experience in the industry in any way I can as much as I can before I get  to the stage of applying for jobs possibly next year. 

Like I have mentioned, it is so important to me that whichever internship I apply for, that they are a good fit for me just as much as I am for them. In saying this, I hope to fully enjoy and like my placement and want to show up to the workplace everyday. 

A way I can do this is to feel confident and secure in the work I’m producing and particularly feeling satisfied with the role I’m playing in the placement. Dornsife wrote for The University of Southern California (2023) that when you do feel self-assured in your work, you not only will be able to work to your fullest potential but are also able to sustain a positive mindset (Dornsife, 2023). This is particularly important to hold on to going into the internship knowing that sometimes the boring or less enjoyable tasks have to be completed. 

I found a quote during this month that I have only just now tied into what this process has taught me and I will hold on to for the remainder of this application time. 

References: Dornsife, D. (2023, November 17). How liking your job will help you succeed. USC MAPP Online. https://appliedpsychologydegree.usc.edu/blog/how-liking-your-job-will-help-you-succeed

[aronarchy]

ok so I finished watching The Fall a few months (you can find my earlier ramble abt it somewhere on my blog, also tagged #the fall tv) tho I’ve been too low on spoons to finish writing this out properly until now

I’m remembering better now about how I first got into it--the Hannibal subreddit or the Killing Eve subreddit where TF was recommended as ~same genre fascinating serial killer + detective very obsessed with each other deep psychological things~ and at the time I was still very much into a terminally-shipping-brained phrase so I think for the first half of the show while I was watching I just mostly turned off analysis in favor of thinking “this is interesting/hot”/“the main characters are attracted to each other”/“when will get together” (which looking back I can’t really relate to at all anymore but idk)

I’m much more comfortable now in identifying the overall political leaning of the show as radical feminist. It’s not even about the somewhat-possibly-slightly-creator-endorsed misandrist personal feelings of the main character (Stella) which are mentioned/implied a few times, or the few bioessentialist jokes(?) made once or twice, but the overall plot itself. Radfems don’t like hearing this, but radical feminism has major parallels/overlaps with mainstream liberal feminism in their ideas & logical flow & philosophical roots (i.e. both offshoots & enablers of conservative patriarchy, relying on immaterialism/essentialism). Here it was mainly the complete utter lack of intersectionality, the iffy depiction of some misogynistic violence (particularly the attribution to essential traits), and the lack of solutions to misogynistic violence that would involve actually changing currently existing power structures.

The Fall does extremely well in introducing multiple feminist points (impacts of patriarchal culture in the workplace, mostly refusing to validate victim-blaming, etc.; does well showing the institutional barriers Stella faces in her job, how she cannot have control of her own work decisions because of how the power is structured, regardless of what she does, and injustices she experiences are baked into how it was built). It also does well in portraying assaults and murders with sexual motives which did not contain sexual acts (as in acts which are sexual in and of themselves by mechanical components) as no less severe/“actually bad” than outright more obviously sexual assaults. But when getting to the more difficult bits, it falters. (I wouldn’t say its perspective is bad per se, just limited.)

Had some disconnected thoughts wrt its depictions of patriarchal power imbalances and abuse stemming from there (i.e. Paul being a therapist and exploiting that to take advantage of his sexual assault victim without her knowing, arguably an antipsych point if you have a lot of faith in the show directors’ scope of knowledge/background).

As the show progresses, we learn more and more about Paul’s Fascinatingly Abnormal Unique Dark Psychology and his Tragic Backstory. His assaults are always presented as ritualistic, mysterious, incomprehensible, so far out of the norm that they could not actually occur in real life, deviant, thrilling, a spectacle. Because The Fall, while trying to introduce progressive political feminist messages in an area which hasn’t had much like it before, also at the same time still tries to cater to the crime-drama fandom (and, like all serial-killer stories before it, to satisfy the audience’s hunger for drama and bloodlust and fascinating monsters to analyze and pick apart).

So on one hand you see it promoting the concept that all acts of misogynistic violence exist on an escalating continuum, all attributable to various cultural factors of the patriarchy; how normal cis male entitlement/culturally ingrained beliefs about men’s right to women’s autonomy (i.e. James Tyler), domestic violence (i.e. Liz’s story), casual(-but-still-severe-and-should-be-taken-seriously) sexual harassment (i.e. Jim @ Stella), and general misogynistic biases and discrimination (i.e. the constant hurdles Stella has to go through in a very male-dominated workplace) are. Arguably it even touches on the therapist-patient power imbalance leading to abuse. That any man (of the privileged demographics the show chose to depict) is capable of such beliefs and actions, including the drastic ones usually deemed “abnormal” and “would never happen to me/come from someone like him” (i.e. Stella telling Anderson about how many women she knew were afraid of men because they might kill them whereas men told her they were afraid of women because they might laugh at them), including normal everyday men you know. That to fight sexual violence we have to fight patriarchal culture.

Yet The Fall abandons this principle when it comes to Paul, and general discussions and speculations about the possible perpetrator of his crimes before they knew his identity. A man who commits the Actually Severe Extreme murders must have fascinating abnormalities in order to be capable of wanting to do so/doing so. Must have a laundry list of kinks and paraphilias and fictional/artistic/pornographic interests, must fantasize hard about it 24/7 since the age of twelve, must have overpowering ✨urges✨ to do it that he finally acts on only because he failed to resist their temptation, much have a tragic childhood backstory of extreme trauma that led to him developing such feelings and dramatically nihilistic misanthropic views, a Very Fascinating Mysterious Philosophy that surrounding women become closer to him with by learning. Must select his victims based on how sexually attractive they are to him, how well they fit his preferred physical “type” because of course it has to all be pretty and palatable (and white).  He must be “sociopathic” and “narcissistic” and “lack empathy/love/caring for women” and overall inhuman, impossible to understand. Stella might’ve made one comment to Jim about Paul’s actions fitting the expected results of patriarchal socialization and material conditions, sure, but that doesn’t particularly match up with the rest of the show’s attempted depiction.

We know there are harmful stereotypes about male CSA survivors supposedly being so much more likely to “continue the cycle of abuse” and CSA perpetrators only being able to want to commit CSA because they must’ve been abused themselves too. This, as per the rest of normative society’s view on CSA, once again, flattens the issue of sexual violence prevention into “uwu let’s ~help~ these poor uwu sad pitiful abused lost souls so they don’t Repeat The Cycle society failed perpetrators by not helping them before they did it because CSA perpetration is just a mental health issue uwu.” Constant complaints even from MC & everyone endorsed by MC about Paul’s “deviance,” that his acts and thoughts and feelings are bad because they’re “deviant” and “abnormal,” implying they were right to call kink practices Wrong because they’re Weird and everyone opposing was just manipulated into believing sexual assault is ok and holds mystical value (i.e. Katie). Iffy conclusions to be drawn from his replies during Stella’s interrogation regarding Olivia (is he a Real Misogynist or not? he’s certainly an adultist--see how he treated Katie and what he constantly said to her about her age and “immaturity” to pressure her into doing what he wanted--fundamentals of his beliefs remain the same even if it’s someone he would personally care about, IRL they don’t tend to be able to compartmentalize as well. Were his femicides motivated by misogyny or were they just coincidental results of his biology which just happened to give him a sex drive oriented toward women?)

I do admit it hit a bit hard when the psych essentially offered Paul the familiar para therapy (practicing distinguishing thought from intent/action, we can treat you & reduce your impulses & offending etc). But unfortunately it also plays into the whole narrative of “all biastophiles experience horrible uncontrollable urges and need help to not offend all offenders just needed ‘biasto therapy’ help to prevent them from offending.” And that several points of his character were Very Relatable (to me), but so were several points of Stella’s, and I know many real people who do not fit any of the show’s predicted profiles of biastophiles or rapists/sexual abusers. And (I’m not sure if this was intentional or not), but the arc of the show from there shows precisely what is wrong with that proposal: he can simply choose to not use those offered tools if he doesn’t feel like it; even if he knows “how” to not be violent, he just doesn’t want to.

No one’s dissecting the possible neurotypes or paraphilias or even sexual attractions at all of James Tyler, or Jim Burns, or any of the other misogynistic harassers/assaulters/abusers (or misogynists in general) depicted in the show, no, reserve the ~fascination~ just for the man who was a walking stranger-danger archetype, trying to built a cohesive “profile” of A Sexual Predator in the way all cops & adjacents/extensions thereof do, that Profile always leaving out themselves as possible violent actors, or just in general people the predator has direct legitimized authority over as possible victims (in this case, his wife and kids).

I’m also unsure if audience was intended to view the psych ward’s practices as violent/abusive, the police’s interrogations & prisons’ practices as violent/abusive (I read them that way, but given how much libs internalize shit I wouldn’t be surprised if the directors and/or most viewers genuinely thought all of that was okay). In particular the treatment of women who weren’t even perpetrators of much in particular experienced the worst violence from the cops (Sally Ann being held for an extended period of time and aggressively interrogated on flimsy pretexts but it was totally fine because the cops used the information to win in the end /s; and particularly, the treatment of Katie).

Katie’s horrendous treatment rhymed w/how general misogyny and adultism and the criminalization of survivors operate broadly: the erasing of any possible nuance, villainizing her, cops stalking her for days/weeks on end while she was at home doing her business (but it was justified because it led to them winning in the end!!! /s), being interrogated harshly & aggressively, being forced to live with a parent she was uncomfortable with by the court, being locked up for her actions which resulted from years of mental health difficulties as she had a shit home life and being continuously manipulated, threatened, and assaulted by a violent serial sexual predator for months on end.

Instead of simply cutting off her incentive by getting rid of her abuser, they go for her, arrest her, and Anderson has the audacity to say she’s “right to kick out at authority [because she’s At That Age]” while being a literal fucking cop interrogating her and clearly not holding to that principle in any meaningful material way, then she gets locked up and still with no one to help her deconstruct what Paul indoctrinated her with or just teach her a general idea of consent and ability to feel self-worth which she needed and didn’t get (because locking up the dangerous juvenile crazies is just so much easier and less risky, right? /s), and the story ends with Stella’s selfishness & need for a Fascinating Chase and Closure (though she wasn’t even a victim of his) in the form of Official Proceedings Which Must Occur Because [essentialism + I’m white so I say so] (which led to further murders & assaults which could’ve otherwise been prevented and much more pain for Katie, policing is incredibly inefficient and does very little for survivors in practice) and Katie remaining trapped in a fucking prison without any way out or any possibility of getting out in the foreseeable future or any aid. Once again adultist paternalism & misogyny centering her as the one to lay blame/fault on, the horrific and detrimental consequences of grooming being exploited to push further state authoritarian agendas instead of the other way around.

The show was excellent, sure, but also if it attempted to decenter ~fascination~ and ~psychological tension~ in favor of less establishment-shilling and more realistic views of misogynistic violence and particularly showed more than one nonwhite person throughout the entire show, particularly the misogynistic violence faced by women and girls on the margins, then it would be forced to acknowledge that in real life the most horrific and Severe and Extreme and frequent and hidden and unaddressed sexual assaults & abuses & femicides are perpetrated by the cishet white men with the most social/political/economic power (i.e. politicians & the rich (none of whose existences were even hinted at throughout the entire story), the very cops the story holds up as worthy moral well-intentioned winners enacting justice, etc) and that the vast majority of victims are not strangers to the perpetrators but the women and girls in their lives whom they have direct legitimized authority over i.e. wives, children, patients, suspects, prisoners, that the brunt of the violence happens by them to them first and decreasing in scale and severity (on average) as you go down the chain (rather than the other way around, stranger danger being the worst and most violent/likely to result in death and acquaintance/authorities’ assault being the mildest thus we can reasonably maintain the cops’ authority to combat the stranger danger Where It’s Actually Needed).

#OP #recently viewed #media review #media critique #the fall tv #misogyny #feminism #radfeminism #white cisfeminism #adultism #victim-blaming #femicide #ramble

[jincherie]

4 o’clock | 03

✩ — pairing: taehyung x reader ✩ — genre: hybrid au, single dad au, light angst, fluff ✩ — rating: sfw ✩ — words: 5.5k+ ✩ — warnings: slight angst ✩ — notes: another impulse update while the inspiration was ripe!! I hope u enjoy it :3 I’ll go over it and fix any mistakes with tense and grammar tomorrow either before or after work, so sorry for those in the meantime! i haven’t written in past tense in a while lol

— prompt: “Why are you crying, It’s only you and me here, Me and you, Oh you”

Even if it weren’t for the two twins that had endeared you so, you were sure you would have eventually been drawn to the beautiful soul of Kim Taehyung, like a planet to its star.

— masterlist || 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 — posted; 14.03.2020

“Ah— no— Haru! Don’t touch that please!”

You sat back, content to watch the chaos as it unfolded; Seokjin had sent you some small reports to write and you were making the most of the moment and finishing them while Jungkook and Namjoon helped watch the twins. It was nearing eight o’clock and the cafe had long since closed, the lights dimmed but still on— Namjoon had been counting the tills in peace until the two hybrid twins had grown curious about what was happening on the other side of the counter and darted around to investigate. Jungkook snickered at the scene as he swept the floors, not being shy about his laughter since Namjoon was too caught up to reprimand him right now.

Ordinarily, you didn’t babysit the twins at the cafe— but you’d brought them to get a hot chocolate since the weather was getting cooler and they’d been behaving so well lately you wanted to give them a treat. You’d already texted Taehyung to ask if they were allowed it, and he’d told you yes. The twins had been ecstatic the second you told them where you were going and why. Apparently they were big fans of Uncle Joon and Uncle Koo, despite spending a majority of their time with you these days.

“But Uncle Joon!” Haru whined, big eyes pointed right at the poor male in question. You did feel a little bad for him; he was just trying to count the tills and finish closing after all. “Wanna help!”

“Yeah!” Hansol chorused, popping up from behind his sister. “Wanna help!”

Namjoon seemed like he was absolutely lost for how to handle the situation, standing crowded with the tills held to his chest, and when he finally caved and sent a pleading look your way you couldn’t help but chuckle. You supposed you could put him out of his misery.

“Hey, cutie cubs! I have something over here that I really, really need your help with! Could you come help me?”

Of course, the answer was yes. At the opportunity to help one of their favourite people ever, their eyes lit up and you stifled a laugh as their tails flicked and whipped excitedly. They were scrambling around the counter within seconds, big eyes directed at you now as they clung to the leg closest to them.

“Yeah, y/n?” Hansol inquired, patting your thigh excitedly. “Need help?”

“I absolutely do!” you confessed dramatically, leaning closer. “It’s something only you two can do.”

They almost vibrated in their excitement, making you think maybe there was a little too much sugar in those hot chocolates. They leaned in closer, Haru whispering with wide eyes, “What is it?”

“Well,” you started, pulling out two pieces of blank paper. “I have something important I’m writing for one of my jobs, and it needs some pictures… but I don’t have any! Do you think you could draw me some pictures to send with it? I don’t know anyone who can do it as well as you…”

The twins gasped, sold immediately on the idea. You’d learned very quickly that of all their hobbies and things they like to do, anything to do with painting, drawing, and colouring— they liked that the most. Eagerly, they climbed onto the free seats at the table where you were perched, looking at you obediently and patiently. Their ears betrayed their excitement though, flicking and twitching restlessly. You passed them a piece of paper each and let them choose one of the markers from your pencil case. Haru chose blue, while her brother went for a light green.

“What do we draw?” she asked after a moment, marker looking very oversized in her tiny hand. To her credit, she had it in an expert grip.

“Anything you want,” you answered immediately, unable to help but laugh at their excited gasps.

“Weally?!” In his glee Hansol’s ‘r’ glided into a ‘w’ sound even more than usual and you almost clutched your chest in fear that you had a literal heart attack. They’re so cute, they’re so cute it’s over for me!

“Yup!��� you nodded, waving your hand for them to go ahead and do whatever they want. They didn’t need to be told twice; they launched into their efforts, markers meeting paper eagerly. You could have sat and watched them all night, so endeared by the way their tongues stuck out in concentration and their ears flicked every so often. Unfortunately, you still had a report to finish and so begrudgingly you returned to that as they scribbled artfully across the pages, having granted Namjoon time to escape to the staff room and for Jungkook to grab the mop and bucket and begin sanitising the floor.

Like that, the cafe settled into a nice ambiance— the radio still played soft tunes across the store and the only out of place noises came when one of the twins dropped a marker or Jungkook bumped into a table or chair due to his shapely rump.

It lasted a good five minutes, and you suspected it would have lasted longer if Namjoon’s phone didn’t start ringing on the counter. The twins barely spared it a glance before returning to their works— man, you chose the distraction well, huh. There was the slight sound of cluttering and something falling in the direction of the backroom before Namjoon emerged with tousled hair and wide eyes, a note sticking to his cheek as he looked around hurriedly for his phone.

“Who on earth…” he muttered to himself as he searched; you pointed to your cheek when he caught your eye and he reached up to remove the note, appearing sheepish. It didn’t take him long to find the phone after that, hurrying to pick it up before passing it over to you on the bench. “Y/n, can you answer that? I think I flicked a coin in the sink and I don’t know if it went down the drain or not— thanks!”

Bewildered, you hurriedly scrambled to the counter, grabbing his phone and seeing that he’d already answered the call and just left it running. You didn’t have time to see who was on the other end before you brought it to your ear, not wanting to leave them hanging any longer than they already had been.

“Hello?” you said, sounding somewhat hesitant. Any caution you might have had was quickly thrown to the wind when a familiar dulcet tone greeted you from the other end, though.

“Wh— y/n?” Taehyung sounded surprised to hear your voice, and you didn’t blame him considering he’d called Namjoon’s phone. “Uh, hello. But, um… why…”

“Hey, Mr. Kim!” The change in your attitude was instant, something fluttering in your abdomen at the knowledge of who you were talking to. “Sorry to surprise you, but Namjoon is counting the tills and kind of dumped his phone on me. Is everything okay? Did you want to talk to the twins?”

Taehyung made a sound of understanding before hurrying to reassure you, “Ah, no! No, that’s okay, I’ll see them soon anyway. Um, I was actually calling because…”

He faded off for a moment, an awkward tone slipping into his voice when he resumed. “Um, all the buses near my work were cancelled because of maintenance or something and, um… I don’t really have a way to get home… so I was just…”

It took barely a second for you to realise what he was getting at. “Ah, you need someone to pick you up? No problem! I’m with the twins at the cafe right now, so I can come pick you up while Joon and Jungkook watch them for a few minutes if you’d like!”

The hybrid on the other end seemed flustered at your easy agreement and instant offer.

“I, um… that’s fine, if that’s not too much trouble? I’m sorry to be bothering you— I’ll pay y—”

“Nope, it’s okay!” you were quick to reassure him, making sure he knew that you didn’t expect compensation just for being a decent person. “Don’t even think of paying me extra, I don’t mind at all! Just text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as possible!”

The line was silent for a few moments before Taehyung spoke once more, sounding slightly choked up. “Thank you, y/n.”

“No problem,” you assured, saying goodbye before hanging up and placing Namjoon’s phone down. A few moments later your own buzzed in your pocket, most likely with the address you’d requested.

Ducking into the backroom, you let Namjoon know what the call was about and he easily agreed to watch the kids while you went to pick up their dad. Once you secured his blessing, you returned to the main area to see Jungkook currently being subjected to the twins and their marker, scribbles and drawings beginning to make their ways up his forearms. Hansol had managed to land the arm that already had some tattoos on it and was having the time of his life colouring them in. As soon as he saw you, he pointed excitedly, “Look, y/n! Uncle Koo’s a colouring book!”

The male in question seemed absolutely endeared by the twins and of course easily agreed to continue watching them while you went to pick up Taehyung. The twins were excited to see their dad again soon and so let you go in peace when you told them what was happening.

Fifteen minutes later found you on the road and nearing the destination that Taehyung had texted you. Apparently it wasn’t at his actual workplace, since there weren’t any bus stops there and he usually had to walk twenty minutes to the nearest one, but it was still in the general area. You were thankful that you’d driven the twins to the cafe instead of walking earlier, since it meant your car was already outside and waiting. You were also thankful one of your friends had bullied you into cleaning it the other day because you knew you’d be embarrassed as hell if Taehyung climbed in and found all the bueno bar wrappers that had been on the floor of the passenger side. What could you say? You had an addiction.

As the GPS on your phone told you that you were growing closer, you began to scan the streets for the golden-haired male in question. It didn’t take you long to spot him, because even in the dark he stood out as a spot of beauty in his surroundings, hair gleaming flaxen in the streetlights. He was only in a white button-down and slacks, but still he looked incredibly good. Honestly, if you saw an image of him you would have sworn up and down that he was a model. The flick of his ears as you neared the curb where he stood told you that he’d heard you from afar, but he waited until you were alongside him to shoot you a sheepish smile.

He was somewhat shy as he climbed in, tentative in his movements as he placed his bag down by his feet and shut the door, resting his hands in his lap. “Thank you,” he murmured again, low tone making your heart skip a beat. What was it about him that seemed to make you so… giddy?

“It’s not a problem!” you assured him again, making sure he caught your smile before you set the destination in your phone and turned to the road; you knew vaguely where you were, but you didn’t travel often to this part of town so you’d need a little bit of guidance to get back to Namjoon’s cafe. It was too dark to tell for sure, but you could have sworn the hybrid’s cheeks flushed slightly.

You didn’t think that the silence would have been all that awkward, but you didn’t want to really risk it—there was still a bit of distance between the two of you, understandably. He was basically your employer right now. But you couldn’t deny the urge sparking to life deep inside you that pushed you to get a bit closer to him. Inexplicably, it was something you wanted.

“When I left, the twins were having the time of their lives,” you informed him, unable to keep the smile from your voice. Your eyes were on the road but you caught his head lifting in your peripheral. “Originally I had them drawing something on paper, but when I came back they’d turned Jungkook into a canvas and discovered his tattoos. I think they were overjoyed to have a living colouring book.”

At your words, Taehyung couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from his throat at his kids’ antics. “They love colouring,” he murmured in response, letting his head fall back against the headrest. Your brief glance over reveals his form, slumped slightly and wrought with exhaustion. A shard of concern wriggles its way into your chest, unsettling you slightly. Was he eating enough? Sleeping enough? You felt so bad for him that you wished you could lift every single worry from his shoulders and give the world to him on a silver platter. His twins deserved it, and so did he. You weren’t sure exactly when, in the past month or so of looking after his kids, that such feelings had had time to bloom, but they had. “I wish I could get them more things, since they go through materials so fast, but… paints are getting more and more expensive these days.”

You hummed, trying not to let the sadness currently permeating your chest to show on your face. “That’s true,” you responded softly. “I imagine they’d go through paints and markers faster than you can blink.”

Taehyung chuckled, the sound soft and low, eyes closed as he sank into the seat. “Yep. I have boxes full of drawings at home. They refuse to part with any of them.”

It was your turn to laugh now, able to imagine it all too easily. “I think they’d never talk to me again if I ever lost the ones they gave me.”

Soft melodies drifted through the car as you drove, your phone’s playlist still on the one you used to lull the twins to sleep. Endearingly enough, it seemed to be working wonders for their father, too. Every time you glimpsed over, it seemed like he was that bit closer to completely dozing off next to you. You were sure he’d be embarrassed about it later, but you honestly didn’t mind. It relieved you a bit to know he was getting at least a little bit of rest.

Well, he was until a low, rumbling sound echoed in the small space. You bit your lip to contain the laugh that attempted to bubble in your throat, but were unable to help the glance you gave to the side. Taehyung looked mortified, gaze averted out the window and cheeks red as his hand rested over his stomach, as though to muffle it should it make any further incriminating noises. His tail curled beside him in embarrassment.

“Well, I suppose that’s good timing,” you said, unable to keep the smile from your voice. “Are you in the mood for a noodle dish or something soupy? Or rice? I was gonna stop by somewhere and grab something for dinner anyway.”

Taehyung’s hands quickly rose, waving awkwardly. “Oh, no, it’s okay— we can just—”

You hummed, pinning him with a look as the car drew to a stop at a set of traffic lights. “Have you eaten today?”

He might have been embarrassed, but you could tell he wouldn’t be able to lie to you. You were proven right when he simply blushed, averting his gaze with his ears angling down.

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching to pat his leg before you had to return your hand to the gearstick. “I haven’t had dinner yet either, and we can grab something to take back for the twins too! Is there anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

Perhaps it was the hunger, but he didn’t take long to give in and acquiesce to your gentle nudging. His voice was soft when it brushed your ears in response. “I don’t mind, anywhere is good.”

You pondered his words for a moment before speaking what came to mind, “I think I know a place that you’ll like.”

— x — x —

“Woah.”

You smiled at the wonderment in Taehyung’s voice, glancing over to see him looking around in awe. You’d decided to take him to your favourite fusion restaurant, since you remembered that they actually made that dish that he liked— japchae?— and it seemed you’d made the right choice. The restaurant was underground, and the ceiling sprinkled with woven trains of fairy lights. The walls of booths and along the tables were somewhat porus and absolutely covered in layers upon layers of scribbles and drawings from people who had visited over the years. A bowl of markers rested by the door and you were sure to grab one on the way past.

One of the table staff saw you and grinned, making her way over immediately. Her gaze didn’t even linger on Taehyung as it swept over him, something you appreciated.

“Y/n!” she burst, moving forward to bring you in for a quick hug. “It’s been a while! I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing slightly. “It’s only been like, a week, Jihyo. What, you weren’t there when I ordered last time?”

“I had placement,” she said, sighing dramatically. “We can’t all finish the semester on time, y/n.”

You laughed in response, and the brunette was quick to get back on track. “Table for two? In the usual spot?”

“Yes please!” you answered with a smile, feeling Taehyung shift in confusion behind you. You wonder if he thought that you were only coming for take away. Originally you were, but as you entered the restaurant you’d read a text from Jungkook saying that they’d taken to twins back to your house, so you felt less pressed to get there sooner.

The two of you follow Jihyo towards the back of the establishment, taking a seat when she gestures to do so in the booth furthest from the front and closer to the kitchens. She left you with menus and told you to press the button when you were ready to order.

“We’re eating here?”

You looked up to catch Taehyung’s gaze, and the expression you find there wasn’t upset or antsy, more confused. It occurred to you a moment later that maybe you should have asked for his opinion before deciding all on your own.

“Oh… Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Your cheeks heated in embarrassment at your own audacity. “I should have asked you— I just got a text from Jungkook saying they took the twins to my place so I figured we didn’t have to rush and could relax a bit. Would you like to get takeaway instead…?”

At your explanation, the male relaxed in his seat, shoulders releasing the small amount of tension they’d held. “No, it’s okay. And you can call me Taehyung, you know. I don’t think you’re that much younger than me, actually.”

Your head tilted in surprise as your hands opened the menu automatically. “Wait, how old are you?”

Taehyung hummed, opening his own menu and looking down, visibly growing happier at the sight of some of the dishes. “Twenty-four,” he answered distractedly, finger trailing over number 37 on the menu. “Are the pancakes good? I wonder if the twins would like them…”

It took all your willpower to snap your mouth closed and swallow your shock— twenty-four?! That’s so young! It wasn’t like he looked old, but to have kids… you thought that he was late-twenties or early-thirties and had just aged really well. You were left reeling at the fact he really wasn’t all that much older than you at all.

It made you even sadder, actually, as you realised that he must have been only twenty-one or so when the twins had first come into his life. It can’t have been easy, especially if the situation was as you suspected with the twins’ mother.

“Wow, you’re young,” you couldn’t stop it from rolling off your tongue, and coughed before continuing, ignoring his amused look. “And they are! I like both the spring onion and the kimchi one. For the twins though, they might like the spring onion one better. I’ll get some to take back to them so they can try it, actually. Maybe some of the chicken too… I’m craving chicken.”

You’d started off talking directly to him, but as you went on you had ended up talking more to yourself. You missed the soft smile that Taehyung sent your way. It was silent as the two of you ruminated over what to order, and neither of you spoke until it was time to order and the waitress (not Jihyo this time, unfortunately) was walking away with your meal ticket and the menus.

“Thank you.”

It caught you by surprise, his sudden words. You looked to him with wide eyes, mid-sip of your water, and blinked in confusion. He chuckled at the sight you presented before leaning back in the booth, taking the permanent marker into his grasp and fiddling with it between his fingers. You continued your sip, waiting for him to continue in his own time. You didn’t have to wait too long.

“For caring so much about Hansol and Haru,” he explained, eyes flicking to the side before rising to meet yours. His ears were lowered slightly, bashful, as he continued. “It means a lot to me, and I know that it means a lot to them. They…”

He cleared his throat, reaching for his own cup of water. He still looked exhausted, but the smell of food in the air had livened him considerably since you entered. “They’ve never really said anything, or asked about their mother, and I don’t know for sure whether they have put you in that role… but I’m glad they have someone else that they can trust and feel safe with. I know whenever I leave them with you that they’ll be okay, and I don’t have to worry, because you always spoil them and they’re always happy. So thank you, for that.”

You blinked, surprised at the sudden sting to your eyes. Flustered, you waved your hand at him, blinking rapidly to ward away the tears. “You should warn a girl before you spring something heartfelt like that on her, Mr. K— Taehyung. I might cry and then our food will be ruined.”

He was still for a second before your words sank in and he laughed, tipping his head back from the body of it. It was a joyous sound, and it made your heart sing to hear it— after the mushy way his earlier words had made you feel, you didn’t know if you were in a good place to handle it. You waited until he calmed to continue, wanting to respond properly now your thoughts were in order.

“But you’re more than welcome, you know.” His eyes met yours as you spoke, fingers fiddling with the marker. “Those two are so beautiful, Taehyung. I can see you give them everything and they really deserve it. I’ll have you know that if I could and they asked for it, I’d climb up and pluck every star out of the sky just for them. Everything I do for them is really the least I can do. I’ll always care for those two, even if you were to move away and forget all about me.”

He snorted at that last part, but you could tell he was touched from the tender look in his eyes. “Don’t worry, that’s not happening any time soon.“

A few moments of silence followed his words, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and it was soon broken by the arrival of some of your meal. Your mouth started salivating the second your plate touched the table, but you held off until you asked the waitress for some plastic containers and she brought them back for you. Once you’d put some of the food aside for the twins, you happily dug in to the meat dish you’d ordered.

You didn’t catch Taehyung’s fond look as you put some food aside, but you did hear it when, moments later, he let out a soft sound that echoed surprisingly like a moan. Your head shot up and he blushed bright red, cheeks so full of food he looked more like a chipmunk than a lion. He chewed and swallowed the majority of it down before offering a sheepish explanation, “Sorry, it just tastes so good… it’s been so long since I had bulgogi.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, almost choking on your own mouthful. You didn’t say anything though, mind wandering to other things— namely, the mention of the twins mother. You wanted to know so badly what the situation was, but you were also painfully aware it was absolutely not your place to ask. But at the same time, the twins were young, and what were you meant to do if they ask difficult questions about their mother as children tend to do? You were torn, but you didn’t realise the extent to which your thoughts were playing across your face.

“You want to know about their mother.”

Freezing, you shot him a guilty look, mouth full of spring onion pancake. You feared that you’d look over and see an upset expression on his handsome face, but it was surprisingly neutral— if anything, he seemed amused at the mess you were making as you struggled to keep the food in your mouth.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, taking a bite of his meal and humming at the flavour. “It’s only natural to wonder since you haven’t seen her. It’s not hard to tell that she’s not around.”

You finally managed to swallow the entire contents in your mouth, shooting him a look of apology. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything if it’s painful…”

The hybrid shrugged, pushing the food in his bowl around with his chopsticks. “It’s okay. It’s been three years, the wound is old…” He picked out a piece of beef, munching it before continuing. “Their mother was another lion hybrid— I met her in an adoption shelter we’d both ended up in until we were of the legal age that we could leave. She was my first love. I thought the world of her. It wasn’t planned, when she got pregnant. She didn’t really want the a baby but, well… you know how it is.”

Something sharp stabbed in your chest at his words, your expression softening. Hybrids still faced a lot of discrimination in more ways than one, and they didn’t have access to all the same types of resources that humans often took for granted. So if she’d wanted to abort the pregnancy, you doubt she would have been able to…Taehyung cleared his throat, continuing.

“When she became pregnant, and after she had the twins, it became clear that she wasn’t really the woman I fell in love with… When I saw those two, my beautiful little cubs, and held them in my arms— I knew I would love them for the rest of my life. But she… it wasn’t a sentiment we shared. She grew cold and fought with me, saying I’d ruined her life. And then one day she left, before they’d even been weened. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.”

“I’m so sorry…” it was all you could think to say, your heart aching for him. You couldn’t imagine the amount of betrayal that must have felt like, the hurt that would have resulted. And on top of it, how difficult it must have been to be on his own from the very beginning.

He wrinkled his nose, sniffling slightly before shooting you a reassuring look. He waved his hand through the air, returning to the meal more heartily. “Don’t be— like I said, the wound is old. Besides, I thought you should know since you spend so much time with the twins. They’re curious, and they’re kids… I wouldn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation if they asked something difficult.”

“I appreciate that,” you said, sectioning off another piece of pancake to put in your mouth. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute at the information he’d given you, but you did your best to push them to the backburner for now— you didn’t take him out and force food down his throat for the sake of hearing about his partner. “I am still sorry, though… It seems like a lot of things have happened to you that you don’t deserve.”

“That’s how it always is,” Taehyung shrugged, nonchalant. Something about how accepting he was of his own misfortune bothered you— he shouldn’t have had to be accepting of the way the world has treated him like dirt. You allowed your eyes to wash over him, taking in the slight bags under his eyes and the somewhat pallid quality to his skin. In that moment, you decided to do whatever you could to help him— both for him, and the twins. If it meant you continued sending home little care packages with the twins, then so be it.

Despite the somewhat depressing start the conversation had, it soon melded into more comfortable, relaxed topics. Taehyung seemed interested to know a bit more about you, apparently wanting to corroborate the many things his twins reported back to him with facts straight from the source itself— you. He asked about your schooling, what you wanted to do— eventually he allowed himself to verify some of the things the twins apparently told him, like if you really had a giant gudetama plushie in the corner of your bedroom. You’d blushed at that one, especially considering that it was true. In turn, you’d gone ahead and asked him about some of the things the twins had told you— like if he really didn’t like mint chocolate chip icecream, and if all the older ladies in the building really pinched his cheek and called him handsome every time they saw him.

At that he had cleared his throat and blushed too, before quietly admitting it was true. It seemed the twins were very good at digging up dirt on the both of you.

You didn’t linger in the restaurant all that long, making your way up to the counter after you’d eaten your fill. The conversation continued right up until you reached the register, at which point Taehyung promptly froze. You turned, in the middle of pulling your card out, and caught him looking with white eyes at the total, like he’d completely forgotten that he’d have to pay at the end of it. It wasn’t hard to guess the direction that his thoughts had gone, and when Jihyo read out your total for the table you left it barely a second before moving.

“Boop!” you said, smacking your card on the reader and relishing in the confirmation beep that sounded a second later. “Paid!”

Taehyung looked at you with wide eyes, hand coming to grip your sleeve. “Y/n, that was so much! You didn’t have to—”

“It’s okay, I got paid today,” you smiled at him, holding up the bag of takeaway containers before passing them to him. “Plus, it wasn’t just our meals— now we have some food to take back for the others, too!”

You were oblivious to the fond, amused smile Jihyo was sending your way, especially since she slapped a brighter one on when you faced her. “I’m glad you two enjoyed yourselves! I’ll see you next time y/n, make sure you bring him too! The chefs apparently liked watching his expressions as he enjoyed the food.”

You laughed, bringing your arm up in a mock salute as Taehyung blushed red beside you, risking a sheepish look back at the kitchen. Two chefs were peeking out the doorway, and waved when they saw him looking. Embarrassed, he tugged your sleeve and began moving towards the door, urging you to leave. You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you on the way out, waving to Jihyo as you went and promising you’d be back soon.

— x —

Later, when Taehyung was laying in his own bed after Namjoon had dropped him home, the twins cuddled next to him — they’d been so ecstatic at the special food they’d gotten that they hadn’t left his side all night, clinging to him like never before— he couldn’t help but reflect once more on the changes in his life, however big or subtle. The most noticeable was you, and oddly enough, when he thought of you now, gratitude wasn’t the only feeling swirling in his chest like it had been before. There was something else there, something new and warm and even though he didn’t look any closer at it, scared to see its name, it comforted him all the way to sleep, sending him off to cozy dreams of the sun, the twins, and you.

a/n: pls let me know what u think and whether u enjoyed it by liking and rbing!!! it helps me know i’m doing somthing right!!! also feel free to support me on my kofi and send me an ask or too with what u think !!!1 thank u for reading and i love you!!! <3 <3

— masterlist || 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

#taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic #hybrid taehyung #hybrid taehyung x reader #single dad au #hybrid au #single dad taehyung #bts #bts single dad #single dad taehyung x reader #reader insert #my work #4 o'clock #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts series #taehyung series

[fallenhero-rebirth]

Brain update

First, let me say that this isn't about what anybody has done. My reactions are not in proportion to anything that has happened, and might be considered odd, weird and sensitive to people involved.

So let me explain.

I'm an Aspie (what we call ourselves in Sweden), on the autism spectrum. Yeah, might have guessed that from the story I'm writing, Sidestep is not the only one trying to figure out how people work.

Over the years I have built up an arsenal of knowledge and analysis to be able to pretend to be neurotypical, something that I can manage alright most days, but which breaks down once you get to know me better. I'm open with this at my current job, and luckily both my bosses seem to be okay dealing with open communication and just telling me what I need to do.

It was not always like this, and that is one of the reasons why I had a breakdown and needed to get off discord/tumblr.

Back in the late nineties, I had finally got my dream job. I was a product developer in the food industry, part of a rather small department of middle-class academics. I was the new hire, everyone else had worked there for years, and things were going well. Or so I assumed. I got cool projects, got along well with one of the sales people, and well, my boss was weird but bosses always are.

Three years later. Our parent company wanted to sell us off, everyone was starting to get worried about their job. We tried to expand into things were weren't equipped to do (you don't bring spices into a fruit jam line, will be hell to clean) and while I did the projects, I also raised an (in retrospect) too big stink about the fact that we were wasting time developing things we couldn't produce without expanding. My boss (who I had learned was a devout christian) started to get really weird, I got called in and he wondered if I was a member of a cult (I was often wearing a headscarf at the time because pressure on my head is good for stress relief). I also got told off for wearing army boots to work (we had lab shoes in the lab), because (I kid you not) if we had danish visitors to the lab (we didn't have visitors) they could be offended since they had once been occupied by Nazis. Yes, at the time I was an Antifa metalhead/satanist, it was a very volatile time in sweden and nazis were everywhere. Now they're a political party, go figure.

It all came to a head when I was confronted with a folder one of the secretaries of the department had where she had written down every odd and strange thing that I did, and there were a lot of accusations of things I quite frankly blocked out. Around this time I was suffering from bad burnout, had memory loss, my hair was falling out and I lost two bikes because I forgot where I parked them. All because of workplace hostility.

So for the first time ever, I went to the company doctor, who immediately sent me on a one month sick leave, and gave a reference to a therapist. When I went and told my boss, his reaction was "It can't be anything at work," in a dismissive tone. I wrote my resignation right then and there, left the building, snuck back a Saturday to clean out my stuff so I didn't have to meet anyone. Luckily I was backed up by my union, so I got unemployment despite quitting, and the therapist helped me get back on my feet and hook me up with some antidepressants.

Still, I was a wreck for years.

At the time, I had NO idea I was an Aspie. It weren't talked about, the only thing I knew about Autism, was from the various portrayals in movies, and well, in the nineties you can guess. Rainman pretty much was it.

What destroyed me the most was not that people disliked me, I didn't like them either, we didn't have anything in common, and middle-class people always scared me. No, what broke me was the fact that my system failed.

See, I had built up myself over ten years into someone I wanted to be. Smart. Capable. Metalhead. Researcher. Activist. I thought I knew the rules. How to interact.

It turned out I knew nothing. People had been talking behind my back for years, and I didn't know. Getting annoyed by my ticks, and I had no idea. Nobody ever brought anything up to my face until it exploded one day out of the blue. This is why I have ranted about anons on this tumblr. This is why I have been so openly against passive aggressive posts and bullying, especially the anonymous kind, because it destroys people and I don't think the people who does it knows the impact they can have. I hope they don't.

I have never gone back to the lab. I can't. I'm having heart palpitations just thinking about it when I'm writing this. I retrained. Became a machinist. Back to the working class I came from. Eventually started writing.

And this is exactly what these last months have felt like.

I thought I understood things. I was pretty open with being old, an Aspie, not understanding memes, or humor, or tik tok, or certain aspects of people's behavior like jealousy, but the problem with joking about this is that it's so easy to take as just a joke. That I'm just making fun of myself (oh it's that too). I got advice from some of you, which I ignored, because I thought that I could be different. That there was no danger in getting close. That I could be just another voice in the crowd. An occasionally evil avocado. That this couldn't blow up in my face, that everything was cool.

And then it did. And I was wrong. And the talking started, and things were coming out that I had no idea that was going on. That I was being held responsible for. Opinions that were spoken in my name. Events I was supposed to have been aware of and supported. All of a sudden I was omniscient, aware of the true passive aggressive meaning of every reblog, aware of every post in every room in the discord I wasn't even running. Wasn't even a mod on. All of a sudden I had power, and I had used it to hurt people. The people I cared about. Everything I wrote was taken in the worst possible way, twisted into things I never meant, and the more I tried to talk to people, the worse it went.

Look. I know this was at heart a war between people that just doesn't like each other and the things they do/the ways they behave. I'm still not entirely sure who's been involved, and I'm not interested in finding out. I tried to build a supportive space, reblog everyone's art and fics, encourage people to make their own things, get a kofi, get some money, make some friends.

And herein lies my problem.

I thought I understood how to be, and now I don't. I have no idea who hates my guts and who doesn't (well, except some who has very vocally let me know). I can't trust anything. I can't trust anyone. And it sucks. Someone I trusted stabbed be in the back because they were convinced I stabbed them in the back and that sucks more than I can describe. Every time I make a comment on AO3 or twitter it's after psyching myself up for half an hour, and I'm usually a wreck afterwards, because my brain doesn't know if they hate me too, and if I am imposing on them and making their day bad.

So yeah. I need to figure out how to be. How not to have a nausea attack every time I accidentally click open tumblr from pure reflex, looking away from the screen just not to see how may messages I have.

I never wanted to be the aloof author, but maybe I have to be. The question is if I can. I have been told I can't comment on pics or fics, because then I have favorites. And that makes people jealous. And it makes people think I take sides. I have been told I can't be on the discord, because then I will be held responsible for what the mods do there, and everything that's said even when I'm not around. I should apparently have someone manage the tumblr, it's not something that I, an author should do.

I now understand the authors who just stay away and remain distant, because people give themselves the power to write the narrative for you.

Part of me wants to tell people what I've told my current bosses, don't assume, just talk to me. I don't pick up/do passive aggression, I don't understand hints, I have trouble with nuance, I don't listen to gossip, I don't interact enough to know anything that's going on. Just ask before assuming.

Except that right now I can't. I can't talk about any of this. It's too close. It sets me off. It's getting better, sure, I'm on medication again, but the smallest thing still can ruin my entire day. I have no idea how long it will take me to recover and come back to some semblance of normality. I'm not posting this myself (my partner does). Writing is going well, because it lets me not be myself. I need those walls again. The therapy of writing about pain.

I'll rebuild them. I'm not entirely sure who I'll be on the other end of it. We'll see.

I have consciously not spoken about any details because those could be misunderstood, this is not a passive aggressive callout to anybody. I have no hard feelings towards anyone, I am not angry or upset, just confused and sad. I am truly so very, very, very sorry that I've hurt people, both by action and inaction. It was never my intention. I will do my best to do better in the future.

Still working on how to do that.

#personal

[crystaljins]

River lead me home | 01

Characters: Seokjin x Reader

Word count: 9.2k

Synopsis:  Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Notes: You guys are gonna laugh... I tried to upload this yesterday but it screwed up and only the title got posted! Naturally I deleted the post and didn’t get a chance to fix everything up, but it’s finally here! My monster of a fic !!!! Updates will be weekly. Honestly this fic took a lot to write, and it’s been 8 whole months of working on it!!! So I hope you guys enjoy it T.T If not I won’t be made though LOL (edit: @blue1928​ forgot to tag u soz)

p.s. I AM working on the HP prompts I’m just really busy this next couple of weeks LOL

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You’ve never really been particularly fearful of getting in trouble with your mother. She has always been a sweet and timid lady, the kind who would let her daughter get away with murder. And you are an adult, even if you don’t act like it, and so it’s not like your mother can do anything other than express her disappointment with your actions. 

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, can have you quaking in your shoes with just a look. He was your nextdoor neighbour growing up, even before you all fled your home realm. He has since moved out of his parents’ home into his own apartment to pursue his dream as a doctor (and to take home as many lady friends as he likes without his parents’ knowledge), but he is still very much a stern presence in your life, even as one of your closest friends. He likely feels responsible for you, since though the two of you were young when you were driven into the human world, he is three years older. He did once refer to you as something like an untrained puppy, which you guess is very reflective of how he views you. The result of such feelings of responsibility is him trying his best to fulfill all the duties of being your legal guardian despite having no obligation to do so. The effect is him being terrifyingly stern with you, despite him being a calm, good-humoured guy with everyone else he meets.

Which is why, when you wake up in a hospital bed with your leg wrapped in a cast, you know that today is the day Kim Seokjin kills you. If the job interview that you completely messed up isn’t enough motive for him to seek you out, then the fact that you tried to stop a purse snatcher and ended up breaking your leg in the ensuing scuffle after said thief’s motorcycle fell on you most certainly is. 

In your defence, it wasn’t like you could just leave them be! Yes, you had not been back to your home realm once in the thirteen years since you and every other guardian were driven out, but at your core, you like to think you are still a Guardian. And so, as is custom, you cannot turn down a plea for help. And the young woman screaming in distress as a man on a motorcycle drove past and snatched her purse straight off her shoulder had certainly sounded like a plea for help! Really, Jin should be impressed, because the ensuing chase was something straight out of a movie, what with you in hot pursuit on your own bike (the one both your mother and Jin do not know you own). And you totally would have gotten the purse back if it wasn’t for the slight motorcycle crash. You’re not exactly sure what you hit since the events are a little blurry, but whatever it was, it ended up knocking you out and breaking your leg. 

A slight commotion breaks out at the entrance to the room and by the way onlookers swoon, you know that your time on earth is up. For the only person that can stir such a reaction upon entering a room is Kim Seokjin himself. Guardians naturally fit most of the qualifiers of what humans consider attractive, but even by Guardian standards, Jin is ridiculously handsome. Even though you find him boring and the biggest nag to walk the planet, not even you are immune to his disarming good looks. You could probably sense his aura blindfolded and your eyes are always drawn to him in a crowd and so you easily pinpoint him amongst the crowd of onlookers before he spots you. Today is his day off and so he does not wear his usual doctor’s gown. Instead a well fitted button up shirt and trousers highlights the broadness of his shoulders and the elegance of his figure as he strolls through the room as if he owns it. You recognise the style- that particular combination of button up and trousers are his date clothes. Your heart plummets when you recognise the outfit. Jin will be extra irritated about having to check on you in the hospital on his day off. Why did the paramedics have to take you here of all places? You’ve really signed your life away this time.

He pauses to smile at a nurse who passes by and she is immediately dazzled. Though he is no doubt furious with you, and is frequently irritated by your shenanigans, to the rest of the world he is charming and funny and good-tempered. You watch the exchange with curiosity- the nurse laughs at something Jin says and there’s a faint flush to her cheeks. You will probably never have such an exchange with Jin- even if he relaxed enough to make a joke in your presence, it would probably be at your expense. Jin’s taste in women is very obvious- he likes women that match him in beauty, ones that are fantastic at making you feel like a potato in comparison despite your guardian heritage, however unintentionally. Something in you twinges at the thought- you wouldn’t mind having a normal relationship with Jin. One where he smiles at you and makes jokes and actually enjoys your presence. But he’ll probably never view you like that- he’s made it very clear throughout your friendship what you are to him.

The nurse points in your direction and takes Jin’s distraction as an opportunity to trail her gaze appreciatively over his figure, settling on his profile. She must be new to the hospital if this is the first time that she is experiencing what Jin’s coworkers at the hospital describe as the “Jin effect”. Any humans (and most guardians for that matter) who meet him instantly succumb to his charisma and absurdly handsome face and find themselves desperately in love. This nurse is no exception and you decide to utilise the momentary distraction she has provided Jin when she attempts to get his number by attempting to slide off your bed and scurry away.

A tug at the back of your collar has you stiffening. If this were a movie, there would be an uneasy swell of high-tension violin as you turn your head to find Jin has grabbed the back of your shirt to stop your slow escape. He must have utilised a spot of enhanced guardian speed to be able to cross the room so quickly. The violins in your head begin to screech in terror. Jin merely smiles and it is eerily charming. His cheeks puff out and his lips curl in a way that would dazzle the average onlooker but you see the lethal intent in his eyes. You barely manage to hold back a fearful shudder.

“Nurse Jo!” He calls, and his tone is playful and sweet which contrasts directly with the venom in his dark pupils. In their depths you can foresee your death. “It seems one of our patients is trying to escape.” His tone darkens and drops on the last word and you flinch, preparing for the end.

Only it never comes, and you find Jin hoisting you up by the back of your shirt and with the help of security rushing forward they wrangle you back into bed. They do well- the average human doesn’t stand much chance against the superior strength of a guardian, and you are currently fighting for your life. But with Jin in the mix, they have you strapped to your bed in no time, forced to listen to whatever longwinded and painful lecture Jin has prepared for you

He stands at your bedside, arms folded across his chest. You mentally write your will in your mind- Taehyung can have your Nintendo switch and his girlfriend can go through your clothes and take any that she likes. Your mother gets anything worth more than $20 in your bedroom (though she might be searching for a while to find such an item, if it even exists) and Seokjin can get custody of your evil cat. Maybe it’ll scratch his stupidly handsome face up and you can get revenge from beyond the grave. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jin asks, and his voice is surprisingly calm. You look away, scratching at where the cast on your leg rubs at the skin of your shin. It’s stupid to wear the cast since with your enhanced healing abilities the break will be better by tomorrow, but the doctors of this world do not know that. 

You are not fooled by the almost friendly, interested tone to his voice- there is anger bubbling behind the mask of polite curiosity. Likely he is holding back to full force of his fury because this is his workplace.

“Well, I’d like to preface by saying I had no choice. Was I supposed to just let the robber go?” You say. You were attempting to placate him before elaborating on the full story, but it appears to have the opposite effect. Jin’s eyes bulge out of his head and his face goes that interesting shade of red that only appears when he’s very, very angry. 

“Robber? You took on a robber?” He says slowly, and you can tell it takes a few moments for the words to process. But gradually, the veins in his neck bulge and his eyes gradually widen and you wince as Jin erupts into what you like to call his “jants- Jin Rants.”. “Ya! Are you crazy? What were you thinking? What if you had been killed? I would have had to tell Auntie and then I would have had to organise your funeral because she would be inconsolable! If I even survived my parents trying to kill me for letting you die at the hands of a ROBBER of all people!” The impressive thing about a jant is the speed at which it is spat out. You are sure that professional rappers have nothing on the way Jin can spill out verses in a rage. He shoves a hand through his hair in distress and the ensuing messy look it generates is unfairly attractive- you think you see a middle-aged woman swoon in the hospital bed across from yours. Or faint. It’s hard to tell in a hospital. He continues screeching. “And then they’d PROBABLY make me MOVE BACK HOME as PUNISHMENT and there goes my social life! You could have ruined MY WHOLE LIFE, (Y/N)! What is wrong with you? Why do you always go making trouble like this?” It is those words, out of his whole rant, oddly enough, that causes you to stiffen. The implication that all you do is cause trouble. Which in a way you suppose you do. You cause your mother unnecessary worry- Jin is constantly sacrificing things to take care of you. Even your friends are constantly having to shout you meals due to your perpetual state of unemployment.

“I... couldn’t just leave it- they needed help, Jin.” You admit softly. Jin somehow hears your quiet admission over his furious jant and falls silent. He stares at you in confusion for a long moment, like he was expecting more of a fight, or some sort of annoying comeback. But the confusion is enough to subside his rage. The jant is over, with minimal damage. He drags over a chair and slumps by your bedside, once more running a hand through his hair. 

“You’re so reckless. Robber’s rarely pull stunts like that unarmed! You may have enhanced healing compared to a human, but you still die if someone stabs you! And this is your third ER trip this month!” He scolds and his tone is far gentler than before- not unlike how one might speak to a child, rather than someone a mere three years younger than him. You meekly bow your head, chastised. “How do you think auntie would feel if anything happened to you, (Y/N)? You may be a Guardian, but Guardians aren’t invincible. You, of all people, should know that.”

You flinch, feeling as though he’s slapped you. He’s clearly furious with you if he’s willing to choose such a sore spot to shame you. For the thirteen years you have been in the human realm, it has just been you and your mother. You have not been able to forget that fact for a single day. Every day you awaken afresh with the reminder that there is a third member to your family who should be there but is not. Your father’s life was lost as you all fled, and your mother had found herself widowed with a headstrong young child in a foreign and unfamiliar realm. Jin’s family have always been around to help because you haven’t exactly been an easy child to raise, but there are some burdens that no one can lift from a single parent.

 And you love your mother, and you really would do anything for your her. It’s just... you don’t want to pretend that you’re a human. For your entire time here, your guise as a human has felt like an itchy, poorly fitted jacket that you want to peel off and throw away. Humans are selfish and lazy and would leave a child on the side of the road and they’d been very quick to notice that you were different and target you for it- these are all things your father hated. To be human is to spit on the sacrifice he made for you... and yet to continue to fight it is also disregarding that he gave up his life to let you live in comfort. 

Jin, with his handsome face and ability to charm anyone he meets instantly, has never had an issue settling into the human realm, and so he’s never really understood why you cling so much to your former home realm. He knows that you’ve never truly stopped grieving the life of your father, but he cannot understand why you do not see the human world the way that he does. He had very much taken to being a human and enjoys all the perks that come with it- the technology, the fawning women, the interesting and unique cuisines... Jin adores human culture. And so, it irks him that you constantly seem to be sticking out like a sore thumb. 

“I’m sorry.” You say in a small voice and you’re so downcast that you miss the way that Jin’s face crumples with guilt. 

“Just... try to be safer in the future. This realm has its own law enforcement. We don’t need to be guardians here.” He tells you softly. Then he clears his throat awkwardly. “How was the job interview?”

It’s an act of mercy- he’s trying to save you any further misery by changing the subject. Unfortunately, you have yet to break the news to Jin; you bombed the interview. Massively. It’s not like it was even a job you were that invested in. Just a fulltime job that involved doing some admin in an office. The exact, safe, boring job your mother has dreamed of for you since coming here and the exact job Jin has been pushing you to apply for because he’s sick of his parents nagging him to lend you money or take you out for dinner or give you lifts because your car broke down and you can’t afford to fix it. But you messed it up and you hate yourself for it. Hate yourself for disappointing your mother, and, if you’re really honest with yourself, for disappointing Jin. You’re already so aware of how lowly he views you and this just makes it sting that little bit more.

But it is the exact kind of job that will slowly kill you inside. You are trying to kill the part of you deep down that longs for something more. You don’t even know what it is you want. But killing that part and settling into this world and its ways and its customs mean giving in. It means forgetting. And for thirteen entire years, you have not been able to forget. How can you, when you left a piece of yourself back there, on the battlefield where your father had lost his life for your sake? He was not even given the luxury of a grave and yet you are supposed to be comfortable and post pictures on Instagram about how happy you are and go to brunch and just enjoy life? You... you can’t do it.

“I... don’t know.” You finally say. You shrug and glance away. “It felt like it went well. We’ll see if they call me back.”

Jin visibly brightens, unaware of your lie. 

“I knew I had a good feeling about today!” He says warmly. “You’re totally going to get that job, I can feel it in my bones. Finally, my parents will get off my back!” He cheers. He probably means the last part as a joke but it’s just another sting; another reminder that Jin just sees you as a burden.

His celebration session is interrupted by an alert on his apple watch. He glances at whatever notification appear and winces. He glances at you like he’s done something wrong.

“I’ve got to go. I uh… I have a date.” He confesses. Jin is always tentative when he talks about the women he sees, like he’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you. You don’t know what reaction that would be, though, and you don’t think you’d ever feed his ego with any reaction other than a mild disgust and indifference. When you just continue to stare, he nods, more to himself than you. “I still have to sort all your paperwork to make sure you can get discharged so I probably can’t stay with you for your discharge. You don’t need a lift home, do you? I’ll probably have to drive straight there.”

Normally you would accept- though your broken bone heals faster than a human’s, it is still highly painful and inconvenient. But the thought of being in the car with Jin right now is highly unappealing. For some reason, lately when you spend time with Jin, you just feel more and more aware of how inadequate you are. You can’t help but notice the way people gravitate towards Jin. The way their eyes are constantly seeking him out or how a room brightens when he steps into it. And it’s not just his looks- it’s his everything. His demeanour, his smile, his success. He has taken to the human world like a fish to water and you just can’t. It’s not like you don’t want to. But his presence, his nagging, his constant disappointment with you… it’s a persistent, painful reminder of everything you can’t bring yourself to be. Not even for him, as much as you sincerely hate constantly disappointing him like this.

He adjusts his watch as you shake your head.

“I’ll just get the bus. I can still walk.” You say, plastering a smile on your face that hopefully seems sincere. Jin glares at you and reaches out to tap a finger against the firm plaster of your cast.

“Fine, but this stays on until tomorrow. I don’t care how fast you heal- I don’t want that leg healing crooked. Your mother will definitely notice if you suddenly have an extra bend in your shin. And no more chasing robbers- not even if it’s an old grandma with a cane being robbed. We stopped being Guardians for a reason.” He warns you. He adjusts his shirt cuffs and pulls out his phone to adjust his hair in the selfie camera before glaring at you. “I won’t tell Auntie about today because I don’t want her to worry. You can stay at mine tonight, so she doesn’t ask any questions when you hobble home in a cast.”

“Thanks.” You say and he’s oblivious to the bleak tone in your voice and the way your expression is downcast. If there’s one thing that has Jin oblivious to the rest of the world, it’s the prospect of a date. “Is the code to get in still the same?”

“I changed it to your birthday because that stupid pixie that always hangs around you worked out the code and keeps leaving my sugar open on the counter. I’m getting so many ants. I’m pretty sure he’s leaving it open for them.” Jin tells you already halfway turned around. You wisely choose not to tell Jin that you had told Jungkook the code to Jin’s apartment. Jin pauses before he can stride off. “Oh yeah. Auntie texted me- she wanted me to make sure you remember to come to dinner tomorrow and that you dress nicely. She has something important to say.”

“She could have just texted me herself.” You mumble, but Jin has already walked off, probably to sort the last of your paperwork before his date. A trail of sighing onlookers watch his departure. It just makes you scoff as you return to glaring at your cast. It itches.

You make a promise to yourself to use Jin’s kitchen scissors to remove it tomorrow so that he has at least some kind of inconvenience in his life. Nothing is more irritating than a blunt pair of kitchen scissors.

++++

Despite seeing Jin’s mother every other day, and renting the apartment directly across from her, your mother always acts like the president is coming over whenever Jin’s family comes for dinner. She pulls out the fancy glass bowls and the plates she bought with her first paycheck from the diner she was employed at when you were small. She vacuums the whole apartment and checks your room to make sure you’ve cleaned it in case Jin needs a bed to nap on after a long day at the hospital. 

She’s never quite managed to get the hang of human cuisine and since the human realm doesn’t hold the magic stores available to cook Guardian food the way that she learned, you are always the one to make dinner. You’ve never once complained because you know that on some level, this is your mother’s attempt to compensate. This is the closest you will ever get to having a community with other Guardians, and Jin’s dad is the closest thing you will ever have to a father. 

But even despite her usual frantic state whenever there’s a joint family dinner, she definitely seems more frazzled than usual. 

“Is it meant to smell like that?” She asks with a grimace, leaning in to look at the salad you’ve thrown some vinaigrette over. You glance over your shoulder from where you are checking on the food in the oven. 

“Yes, mum.” You say, standing and gently nudging her from the kitchen with a smile. “It’s vinaigrette- you liked it last time when I made it, remember? It’s why I made it tonight.” 

Your mother digs her heels into the ground before you can drive her from the kitchen and send her back to wiping the already sparkling cabinets in the living room. She turns to scrutinise you carefully. 

“Are you going to do your hair? It looks a little messy.” She frets. You raise an eyebrow. This is new. Your sweet, doting mother has never once criticised your appearance, not even when you went through that phase where you had an eyebrow piercing and dyed your hair neon green. Something is up. 

“It’s just Auntie and Uncle, right?” You say suspiciously. “They used to bathe me when we lived in magregnum, mum.” You say. Using the original term for your home realm feels foreign on your tongue and your mother’s expression shutters at the sound of her original home. 

“Well, a lot has changed since then.” She says softly. You’re about to question the strange, unfamiliar expression on your mother’s face. Something looks different about her... you squint when you recognise the shimmer of your favourite eye shadow on her lids. 

“Are you wearing makeup?” You question. Her eyes go wide, and you can’t help but notice that her lashes are curled. But her answer is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Your mother pales and instantly she switches back into her jittery, pre-dinner self. 

“Quickly, quickly!” She urges. “Dinner’s not ready yet!” 

You shake your head with a smile at your mother’s familiar antics. 

“It’s probably just Jin- Auntie and Uncle always make him come over earlier to help.” You call over your shoulder. You’re in a far better mood than you were yesterday, particularly after bending Jin’s kitchen scissors beyond repair during your attempts to remove the cast this morning before heading out and pretending you hadn’t been fired from your part-time job the week before. You had punched one of the senior managers for bullying the new hire. Your leg was mostly healed at that stage and Jin had told you that you could take the cast off before he left for work that morning. When you arrived back home in the afternoon, your mother had either chosen not to comment on your slight limp or had been too distracted by the stress of having dinner to notice. You are glad to have evaded her sad, disappointed eyes and the unwarranted comparisons to Jin for the day.  

After a long few moments of peace in the kitchen, you can’t help but notice the lack of an annoying presence hovering over your shoulder. Usually when Jin arrives, he makes a beeline straight for the kitchen so that he can sample whatever it is you’re making and proclaim it decent (and then try and sneak some extra portions later in the evening when he thinks you aren’t looking). The complete lack of Jin’s presence to do whatever the kitchen equivalent of back seat driving is has you pausing with a sense of unease. It is the first clue that something is up- the door opens and yet the older guardian doesn’t make an appearance. Confused, you pause midway through pouring out melted chocolate from a glass measuring cup and glance over your shoulder. 

“Minyo Dolkara,” is your mother’s tentative call and your eyes widen at the term of endearment. It is a common one back in your home realm, but your mother only uses it to comfort you when she feels you are truly upset. She is knotting her fingers anxiously together and beside her stands an unfamiliar middle-aged man. He smiles warmly at you, and your gaze lands on the arm he holds carefully around your mother’s shoulder. Your grip tightens around the handle of the measuring cup. 

“Mum?” You ask, your tone laced with confusion. “Who’s this?”

Your mother swallows nervously and glances at the man in question. 

“This is... my love.” She confesses. “Nigel. We met at my night classes and I... He...”

“I’m her fiancé.” The man, Nigel corrects. He is a friendly, round sort of man. The kind of man often seen on tv playing father to a rebellious teenage daughter in a sitcom. And his smile is warm and excited, like he’s happy to meet you. He directs that smile to your mother, and rather than look disgusted or uncomfortable, she merely beams back at him.

That’s probably what this night was for, in hindsight. And why your mother was so nervous. She planned this to introduce her new boyfriend... no, her new fiancé to you, and to Jin’s family. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you register all the unusual signs about tonight. The way she’d messaged Jin to make sure you were at the dinner despite the fact that she’s never been able to bring herself to make you do anything you don’t want to.... the way she’s been commenting on your appearance despite it never having bothered her before... how long has she kept this from you? How... how could she be seeing another man?

No words form in your mouth- instead, the face of your father hovers in your mind. After thirteen years, you can’t fully recall what he looks like and you weren’t able to bring any pictures over to the human realm with you. It has been long enough that you cannot recall his face or his voice. So, in theory, why can’t your mother meet someone new? Did you expect her to live as a widow until she died, alone and far from the home realm she grew up in? Of course, you didn’t. But for some reason, this man’s presence right now leaves a bitter sting like she’s plunged a knife into your chest.

The smile drops from Nigel’s face after a few moments of you staring blankly and his smile is replaced with concern. It takes you a while to understand it is because you have crushed the hand of the measuring cup in your tight grip. It falls to the ground and shatters, followed by a few drops of blood as red rapidly spreads over your clenched fist and lands on the ground. You haven’t used your enhanced strength in so long you almost forgot you had it. 

“Fiancé?” You echo at last and though it is your own voice, it sounds distant. Like your ears are suddenly submerged under water. You don’t know what hurts you more in that moment- the painful reminder that the world is moving on without your father... or the fact that your mum has kept such a huge secret from you for who knows how long, probably because she was scared of how you’d react. “You’re engaged?”

“(Y/N),” your mother says, taking a step forward, perhaps to comfort you. She does it tentatively, like you are a beast she needs to placate. The people in your life- at least the ones who know your true identity- often approach you like that. Slowly and hesitantly, as if they don’t know how you will react. Like you are a ticking time bomb, ready to go off and cause trouble. Which in a way, you suppose you are. Things have always been difficult with you, after all. You never settled into human schooling well and you didn’t get into a good university like Jin, and you’re always getting yourself into trouble trying to help random people off the street. And your mother, your poor placating mother, is prepared to do the same thing she always does. Apologise that you had to leave your home, that the new human world isn’t to your liking, but gently remind you that it is, in fact, your real home now.  

But you do not give her the chance to feed you the same tired lines. You’re so sick of hearing this lecture. Every time you wind up in hospital because you’ve interfered with a fight or been hit by a car trying to save a random puppy, Jin gives you the same, frustrated lecture. When you fail another interview or get fired from a new job, your mother is there to try and fail to hide her disappointment that you aren’t leading the life she’d planned for you. But not this time- this is too far. You’ve been trying to squash the part of you that is a guardian for their sake for so long now, but you cannot do it for him. For this man, this stranger, who has waltzed into your home like he owns it and announced that he’s marrying your mother. As if he has a right to just join your family. You are out the door before she or Nigel can offer a word of explanation. 

You don’t see Jin until you crash into him. He steadies you with a hand planted on either shoulder. You glance up at his face, barely registering what he looks like through the blur of tears spilling forward. For a brief moment, the sight of Jin’s face (even blurred) and the familiar set of his broad shoulders fills you with relief. Even if Jin’s always viewed you as a bit of pain, he’s always been an important person to you, always ready to provide support. But then you see the look on his face.

Jin actually winces when he sees your expression. Perhaps he is realising it’s going to be one of those nights, where he sits up on the roof with you for hours and comforts you as you spill your guts. That’s how it’s always been, after all, ever since you were a small child and would run to him when you scraped your knee instead of your own parents. You would cry and he would offer some wise words mixed in with a stern reprimand and then his parents would congratulate him for being such a good influence on you. Even when you hit high school and started to realise for the first time that Jin didn’t view you with the same adoration you viewed him, he never stopped being that person for you. The shoulder to cry on, the rock to lean on. But now, he stiffens, as if steeling himself for the explanation behind your tears and he probably already has a speech half prepared in his mind. That’s the job he delegated himself, after all. To look after you, for as long as you are alive and giving him headaches. So, if it’s always been his job to do just that, why does he look like he’s just been asked to help clean a public bathroom at the sight of you in distress? 

He... he doesn’t want to deal with you. That’s why he looks so uncomfortable. 

You feel something inside you crumple. You can’t identify what feeling it is but, in that moment, you realise something. Everyone in your life... they all view you as a burden. Your mum had delayed telling you about her boyfriend until the last possible moment because your response would be difficult to handle. Jin’s parents see you as a hopeless child that their perfect son must look after. And Jin.... well you can see from the look on his face how he views you. It reminds you of a dark day, all those years ago in high school, a memory you thought you’d pushed down, and it surfaces now, before you can push it back down like you normally do. But then you set your shoulders- you were over the things Jin had said that day, and you aren’t going to allow the way that he looks right now to be the thing that resurfaces those feelings.

You shove past him. Over the past few months, you’ve been avoiding Jin more and more as your self-esteem plummeted lower and lower but today something tips over the edge for you. You don’t know how or why it happened but at some point, Jin has stopped being the person you can turn to when things get rough. And you have just realised that he no longer wants to be that person either, which hurts far more than you ever thought it could. 

“(Y/N)!” You hear him call out to you, probably shocked that you aren’t caving immediately and telling him what’s wrong- after all, there’s probably only been one time in your life before this that you’ve done so. You ignore his call though, making a beeline for the staircase, and he does not follow you. 

The place you usually go to when misery strikes is the rooftop of your crappy apartment building. You’ve spent countless hours up on the rooftop, watching the sky. It’s oddly therapeutic- the thing you used to miss most when first moving to this realm was the stars. Back home, they sparkle different colours like precious stones scattered across black velvet. Here, the smog of humans blocks their stars from the sky. But the brightest stars are somewhat visible on clear nights and they are the closest reminder you have of home. That’s probably why you have chosen the roof as your refuge. Since beginning to take refuge here when things go bad, you’ve accumulated a small collection of old furniture from whenever your mum goes on a redecorating spree. 

What has resulted is a comfy little corner of the world you can call your own, away from everyone else. No one else seems to use this place, even if the rooftop is accessible to everyone in the complex, but that suits you just fine. It’s perfect for curling up and wallowing, much like you are desperate to do right now. There are a lot of confusing, painful emotions swirling around inside you, ones that you aren’t really sure how to deal with or process. 

You slump down against the old picnic blanket you have stretched across the floor and let your head collapse against an old cushion your mum threw out years ago and peer up at the sky. Wincing, you idly pick out pieces of glass from your hand and watch the skin seal over almost immediately as you wonder if the sky really as beautiful back home as your memory tells you it was. Or, do you just want to believe things were better in the other realm? You’re not really sure but it really would be nice to go back. Not forever- as much as you hate to admit it, your family is here now, which makes this realm your home. But you want to see the place you came from. You want to see the stars and the valleys and the rivers. The night before you and your mother fled, your father had told you that everything about Magregnum would change by the time you were old enough to go back, except the landscape. Mountains cannot move, after all. A part of you longs desperately for that- to see the things that will not change and the landscapes that could not leave your father behind. The only reminders that you aren’t just a random human washed up in the bleakness of life, but a guardian. Something special and precious. Something better than what you feel like you are.

An annoying buzzing in your ear breaks the bubble of your pondering. You blink a few times and then sigh, turning your head to the side. A small figure, no taller that the height of your handspan, stands beside you with his arms folded. Small, insect like wings flap so rapidly they are little more than flashes, catching the light of the fairy lights you’d strung across the fencing of the rooftop a few weeks ago. The figure tilts his small head to the side and at this proximity you can see the way he frowns. He always has the oddest tendency to pop up whenever you are alone and miserable and likely he is displeased to find you in such a state yet again.

“Do you ever do anything other than sulk?” The creature asks. He is a pixie, as you know from your first interaction where he had very indignantly informed you that no, he is not a cross between a mosquito and a human in-between your attempts to squash him with a fly swatter. You grimace. 

“No.” You snap, rolling onto your side to face away. Alas, the small pixie merely lifts easily into the air and sails over your face like he’s an Olympian performing high jump. He lands neatly in front of you once more and grins. 

“What happened this time?” He asks, settling down into the picnic blanket cross legged. He plants an elbow on either knee and rests his chin in his hands. The buzzing of his wings slows to a gentle flap, which allows you to discern the thin, silvery veins that lace across the delicate membranes of his wings. You’ve always secretly thought it a shame that Jungkook is just a pixie, given his handsome face and charming nature, but being a human would mean the loss of his gorgeous wings. “Did Jin ground you again?”

“He’s never grounded me before.” You snap defensively. “And even if he did, it’s not like I would listen to him. He’s not my parent.”

Jungkook shrugs, leaning back to press his weight into his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. 

“Yes, you would.” He points out. “You always complain about Jin, but I know you always do what he says.” 

You purse your lips and sit up. Jin is one of the last people you want to talk about right now. Jungkook stands up too, launching himself into the air so that he can settle on your knee. 

“So what did Jin do this time? Change the code to his apartment again? Find out about your motorbike? Treat you to dinner?” Jungkook questions eagerly. You’ve never seen the pixie interact with another living being other than you, Jin or Taehyung (and on occasion your mother) and he had sadly informed you that he was the only one of his kind in this realm when you first met thirteen years ago. So, you have a theory that he lives out his need for drama and gossip and social interaction vicariously through you. It’s the only way to explain his constant interest in your life and the things that are making you sad. 

“It wasn’t Jin.” You finally admit, lifting your gaze once more to the sky above. “Why are you even here anyway? Did you run out of YouTube dance covers to copy?”

Jungkook nods and settles down beside you. “It’s all pointless after a while.” He says forlornly. “It’s not like humans can see me. Only guardians will ever see me dance and they don’t care. I figured I might as well talk to one sentient being before I go crazy. The moths just aren’t great conversation partners these days.” He pauses. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Jungkook’s confession has your resolve crumbling. Sometimes it is easy to forget that you, Jin and Taehyung are the only people Jungkook can mix with, as a pixie in a human world. Even if humans could see him, the government would probably deport him back to the other realm the second it found out he was threatening exposure of magical beings to humans. A strange sadness on his behalf overcomes you and that is the thing that makes you willing to confess what’s bothering you. “It was... my mother.”

Jungkook is silent and when you glance down at where he is seated upon your knee, he is also gazing in wonder at the sky above. He doesn’t press further but you still somehow feel compelled to share. 

“She’s engaged.” You admit and the words feel oddly piercing amongst the soft hum of city traffic. They hang in the cool night air and suddenly the warmth of the night seems stifling rather than comfortable. 

“I thought the Q’uvar were happy when that sort of thing happened? Don’t you all have those huge festivities in your village whenever a marriage ceremony happens?” Jungkook questions. The natural way the original term for your people rolls off his tongue testifies to his origin- despite him living in the human realm, there is no doubt he comes from Magregnum, just as you do. Even when you were living in the other realm, your people would refer to themselves as guardians. Only the really old-fashioned members of your race would use the language that had slowly died out over the years as the common tongue became the norm. Not for the first time, you are curious about Jungkook and where he popped up from. Jungkook turns to look at you and tilts his tiny head. His inky black hair flops to one side with the motion. “Shouldn’t you be happy that your mother is engaged?”

The unintentional reprimand slaps you across the face and you wince. In theory, you should be thrilled that after so much difficulty and hardship settling into this realm, your mother has found a source of happiness. She has worked so hard on your behalf to make sure you grow up safe and secure in this foreign realm and so the least you can do to repay her is to be happy when she is happy. But the niggling fear that always chases you holds you back. It’s a fear of change- of the way life seems to move too fast for you to catch up. Here you are, stuck in the past when even your own mother has managed to move on and build a life for herself. 

“I should be.” You answer softly. You lift your knees and hug them close to your chest- Jungkook falls off with an indignant squawk. Moments later he rises in the air until he is eye level with you- even the buzz of his wings seems irritated. 

“Well then, why aren’t you?” He asks, but the tone of his voice implies that his patience has been lost with you. Since the moment of meeting you all those years ago, Jungkook had assigned himself as a sort of pseudo-counsellor and confidante, but it does not mean he enjoys the position. No, more often than not, he is annoyed and puzzled by your seemingly trivial problems. You kind of enjoy such an attitude though- it makes the things that feel insurmountable to you become small and insignificant. Jungkook makes you feel like problems can be overcome. This time, however, his dismissive attitude has you feeling worse. 

“Because I’m homesick.” You admit miserably. “Why does everyone seem to settle in here so well? Why am I the only one struggling? Why could everyone leave things behind so easily? How can they just pretend that they’re humans, and completely ignore the fact that they are Guardians?”

You press the palms of your hands against your eyes and release a long exhale. No one has followed you up here, after you rushed out like that. Who even knows what state your mother’s dinner is in? Hopefully she remembered to get everything out of the oven. Are they having fun without you? Is Nigel charming them, winning them over, getting them excited about the possibility of a wedding? Are they… are they really happy, in this realm? “Do you ever think about going back?” You question, after a long moment of silence. You drop your hands from your eyes.

“Sometimes.” Jungkook admits. “I wonder what it looks like now. Taehyung says it’s largely the same, it’s just the cultures and people that change.” 

You stare out across the ugly concrete buildings that the rooftop view provides you. In this realm, everything moves fast and changes quickly. In the blink of an eye, a new building can pop up down the road or an entire family can move away from their twenty-year-old restaurant and close it without any warning. Back home, you remember things being steady and unchanging. Every morning, you would rise to the same mountain ranges, to the same fringe of forest, to the same river song. The only guardian you know who has gone back is Taehyung, and he validates that impression- forests and mountains do not change. 

“I wish I had half Taehyung’s courage. I want to go back.” You confess.

Jungkook hugs his knees into his chest and mirrors your position beside you. 

“What would it achieve?” Jungkook asks curiously. You shrug, picking idly at a stray thread on your jeans. 

“Hopefully something.” You say. “I feel like I’ll never know what could happen if I don’t take the risk. I just… I feel like it’s calling me. It doesn’t want me to forget what I am. This realm doesn’t suit me because this isn’t my realm. Maybe I’ll find a place that fits over there.”

Jungkook nods sagely. A moth flaps past him and he smiles at it as it goes past.

“And what would you do once you’re there?” He questions. It does not take you long to give an answer. You’ve had this adventure mapped out in your mind since you were a miserable, homesick eleven-year-old.

“My dad used to have this phrase. “The river loves those who take the plunge.”. He’d always say it in the old tongue, and apparently it was an old guardian phrase that meant sometimes taking the risk was worth it. But apparently the phrase comes from a river to the east of our home. Dad said that the river is home to a special migrating plant, and it lights up and looks like shooting stars. They call it ‘the dancing river’. He promised to take me there, one day when the war was over.” You explain. “If rivers and mountains don’t change… then that’s that last piece of him I can find in that realm.”

“And that’s what you want to see, if you go back?” Jungkook asks. You nod and shift your position to the side of some old drawers you had rescued from your mother’s bedroom. Inside are a bunch of wrinkled old papers that you pull out and show him. 

“Taehyung always brings me back a map whenever he gets back from over there to show me how things have changed. Look.” You point at a small blue line that trickles across the painted landscape of the map. The label is written in the common tongue. “River of stars” it says in sleek cursive. You know from matching it up with an older map that the name has changed but it’s the same river your father told you about. “It’s only a five-day hike from the portal.” You point at a small mark on the map- this has Taehyung’s writing scribbled on it, marking the join between the human realm and the magical one. “I could go and just... get it out of my system. See the river. Like a road trip but in another realm.” 

Jungkook flutters over to peer at the small distance between the river in question and the portal on the map. 

“I just have to go once. Just once. And see it- see the places he loved. And then I’ll settle into this realm and get the boring job Jin and my mother want me to have and marry an equally boring human. I’ll go to her wedding and watch her pretend like my dad never existed and like I’m not a Guardian.” You tell him. “I... we didn’t even get to say good-bye, Jungkook.” 

Your voice cracks and Jungkook glances up at you in surprise. You rarely open up about your father to the pixie but he’s always curious when you do, like you’re sharing the story of an ancient war hero. Which in a way, he is. Though the war is fresh and recent in your mind, over a thousand years have passed back home, since your people roamed freely there.

“We just got word that he was dead, and we had to go, or we would be too.” You tell him, recalling the way Jin’s father had woken you two up in the middle of the night, pale as a ghost and drenched in your father’s blood. You remember running a lot that night and clinging to your mother’s hand. You had tripped and scraped your knee and you hadn’t been able to cry. And when you reached the human realm, your mother had shed a single tear and then shouldered on into your new life. No time or space to grieve. Not when there was so much uncertainty ahead. “No funeral or anything. I just... I want proof, that he was alive. I want to see the places he saw and just... I want to get a chance to say goodbye. I never even got to tell him that I love him one last time.”

Jungkook holds a hand to his chin as he ponders your words and then he looks at you. Though he is small, you can make out the dark colour of his eyes. His expression is soft and gentle. It reminds you of the look Jin used to give you when you’d come up here because the kids had made a mean comment about you not understanding their weird meme jokes or you were sad because you’d seen a kid hanging out with his father. Back before Jin had lost his patience with you, when he just got that the reason you couldn’t settle in was because of the cost it took to get to this realm safely. 

“You know it wouldn’t bring him back, right?” Jungkook asks softly. “Everything you knew about that realm faded thousands of years ago. You won’t find home there anymore than it is here. And it won’t stop your mother from getting married.”

“I know.” You answer forlornly. “But maybe things will be better if I just get to… acknowledge what I am. Even if it’s only for five days.” Jungkook stares for a long moment and then nods, his shoulders set with sudden determination. 

“Then let’s go.” He announces. You blink in surprise at his proposition. 

“Go?” You echo. He nods and straightens, planting on hand on his hip and pointing the other directly at you. 

“I am the first person to point out that you’re spoiled and selfish.” Jungkook reminds you, which has you wincing. “You don’t even know how lucky you are, to have so many people who love you. Do you know what I would give to be human? To have a friends and family like you do? And every day you spit on it. If this is what it takes for you to finally be content, then do it.” 

You frown and look away from him. 

“I don’t want to go when you put it like that.” You say, resenting the slight way your voice wobbles with hurt. You feel the slight tickle to your cheek and find Jungkook has pressed his tiny hand comfortingly to the side of your face. 

“Don’t be hurt.” He says softly. “I do know why you’re struggling.” He offers you as comfort. “And I do understand why it’s so hard. To live amongst humans every day and pretend like none of the terrible things that went down over there really happened. But in focusing on the things you’re missing, you’re missing out on the things you have.” He explains. “So, let’s go, (Y/N). Let’s go see the Dancing River and find the peace you’re looking for.”

You stare at Jungkook for a long time, before offering the slightest nod. He’s right. What’s the use of waiting and hoping and holding out for something? Why not just go and find out if seeing this river will solve any of your problems? The river loves those who take the plunge, after all.

“Let’s go, Jungkook.” You agree, with the faint hint of a smile on your face.

What you don’t see, as you converse with Jungkook, is Jin slowly closing the door to the rooftop, first aid kit in hand. He gives one last glance at the doorway, wondering if he should join you and Jungkook before shaking his head with a sigh. He turns around and makes the slow trek back downstairs with a troubled expression on his face.

#kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #castlebangtan #seokjin scenario #writing

[scripttorture]

Do you have advice on portraying mental disorders to the public in a way that makes sense? How does one portray multiple disorders at once while making it clear they’re the result of torture? Do you usually name them in the story? I can portray disorders + symptoms that come with mental health problems resulting from torture, but I feel like I’m battling public ignorance before even getting to debunking myths about torture. I have the information, but I don’t know how to portray it organically.

I can tell you what I do, but I think that whether that will work for you or not partly depends on how you approach writing.

 If what I say doesn’t fit with your writing style that isn’t a failing and it doesn’t mean you’re ‘doing it wrong’. I don’t think there is one sure fire way to write a complex topic well. And honestly the fact that you’re putting in the time to research and practice is probably more important then any advice I have to give.

 I don’t always name mental health problems in my stories. I appreciate that some people think you always should. Usually because they say if you name a disorder the readers can’t deny it or pretend it’s something else.

 I have a friend in one of my writing groups. He’s writing a wonderful adventure story with a Deaf protagonist. He repeatedly describes the character as Deaf and all of her communication is in sign language.

 He has still had feedback from people six chapters into the story saying they did not realise the character was Deaf.

 Here’s my take away from this: While it is important to try your best with anything you portray it is also important to accept that some people just Will Not Get It despite your best efforts.

 Shout out to the person who thought I was discussing trans people when I spoke about historical pre-pubertal eunuchs.

 Start by thinking about who you’re writing for. What does your ideal reader look like? Whose feedback do you hope for?

 Because I think there’s a big difference in how we approach the story/conversation when we’re expecting to talk to people with experience vs people without.

 Most of the time I’m writing for trauma survivors. I hope I’m writing stories that other people will enjoy. But I accept in the writing that a lot of people without experience of these things might not… quite connect the dots.

 It sounds like you want to write for people who aren’t survivors. To educate. That is just as valid and valuable. It’s a very different approach though.

 When I think about naming a mental health problem I think about how that name fits into the story. The main character in my current story is about 11-13. She’s spent a fair amount of time with two adult survivors. But I’m not sure if she has the knowledge or vocabulary to label what she’s seeing and I’m not sure if anyone else would say it to her.

 So I put those mental health problems in to the way these characters behave and the way their daughter talks to her friend about her parents.

 That approach may not work if the majority of your intended audience have no knowledge about mental health.

 And for me in this story that’s part of the point. I expect that a lot of readers will be taken aback when they find out what these characters have lived through and realise that what they’ve seen up to now are symptoms not ‘quirky character flaws’. I expect that to prompt some thought and questioning*.

 Linking these illnesses to torture was easy in this particular set of stories because the readers will (eventually) see the characters before and after torture. The change happens in front of them.

 Generally I think that’s a good way of establishing the link: explicitly showing the character before and after trauma and highlighting the changes. That can be directly as part of the story, but it can also be done through other characters talking about the past (which can help establish relationships and characters) and by having the survivors themselves reminisce about ‘before’.

 It’s also important to remember that you can show symptoms developing without showing torture itself. There’s nothing wrong with choosing to show quiet moments with the character in a cell, even if we’re told they’re cliché. Use every moment that you can make powerful.

 There’s also nothing wrong with jumping around in the time line and telling a story in a non-linear fashion. My general point here is that there are a lot of ways you can bring up the character’s past and how they’ve changed.

 You can also have a character explicitly state that these symptoms are expected, normal responses to a horrendous situation. Any characters who are doctors, mental health professionals or some types of social workers would be good fits for that. Depending on how you structure the story religious figures (who may be involved in anti-torture work or helping survivors) could work.

 If there are other survivor characters then having a discussion between them about what it changed could be a good organic way to bring that up while bringing the characters closer together.

 Circling back to writing mental health problems- I do think sometimes a lack of an explicit label can help communicate the experience. I think sometimes people get so caught up on the diagnosis and what they think it means that they don’t engage with anything that goes against that preconceived notion. But… whenever you don’t make something explicit in the text you’re leaving it up to the reader to decide how to interpret it. You’re taking a risk to trust this stranger who picked up your story.

 I get the feeling the main thing here is writing it all organically and the fear of messing up.

 That’s understandable. Any writing already asks that we juggle. Adding in torture and mental health problems and committing to doing them well adds a lot more implements into the air.

 And I guarantee that practice will help. It always does.

 Personally I’ve been writing mental health problems for so long that a lot of it has become instinctual. It’s an ingrained part of how I write (for better or worse). Making symptoms an organic part of the character is about making them a part of every aspect of a character’s life.

 Which sounds harder then it is. It’s about thinking things through and filtering them through the character’s personality/motivations.

 Because as much as we can hope to get a message across primarily we are telling stories. And everything needs to serve that.

 Let’s have some examples. I’m going to use two characters from two different stories, Kibwe and Ilāra. Kibwe made a full physical recover from torture. Ilāra ended up with a single below knee amputation. And while there is some overlap in the symptoms I chose for them they’re very different people.

 Kibwe’s long term symptoms are memory loss, intrusive memories, hypervigilance and chronic pain and I’m toying with the idea of adding in inaccurate memories as well.

 His memory problems are an integral part of his character arc and motivation through the stories he’s in. Despite knowing intellectually that they are a normal response to trauma Kibwe sees them as a personal failing. They made it impossible for him to bring charges and that fed into feelings of guilt and self-blame.

 Which is what drives him to stand up for other people.

 Every heroic action he takes in the story, every time he puts himself between someone else and harm, is coming out of his own experience of memory loss and possibly inaccurate memories. It’s all because trying to do the sensible thing and report what happened to the police left him feeling useless, powerless.

 His intrusive memories feed into this as well. They serve as constant reminders that strengthen his resolve.

 In the parts of the story from his perspective all of these memory problems and the effect they have are obvious and there inclusion is natural. Because they colour every single thing he does.

 In the parts of the story that are from other perspectives it’s less obvious what the problem is but there is still clearly A Problem.

 His intrusive memories are pauses in the middle of doing or saying something. They’re the moments when he screws his eyes shut and breathes deep and has to ask the other characters to repeat themselves. They’re the way he flinches at ordinary things and the way he flies off the handle anytime someone brings beer into his workplace.

 His chronic pain is in the days when he can’t do his job. When his hands shake and he snaps. When he takes his frustrations out with the wrong words to the wrong people. And in the distant, awkward way he tries to make amends afterwards.

 Internally he barely acknowledges his hypervigilance. But externally he always positions himself so that he can clearly see anyone else in the room. He can always see the exits. He twitches, he turns his head a lot to keep other people in view. And if he can’t see everyone, can’t see a way out then his speech starts to get biting, his anger leaks through.

 In contrast Ilāra is very very aware of their own hypervigilance.

 They track the people around them and the terrain and rationalise it as sensible. As a precaution. As keeping themselves and others safe. So a portion of any part of the narrative from their perspective is about that: Ilāra's internal paranoid risk assessments.

 They also have learning difficulties, which are more obvious from outside perspectives. Because Ilāra has a proud streak; they’re not stupid, they can get by just fine. They’re just letting their friends/found-family help out because it makes them happy. Ilāra does not actually need help.

 Contrast with the perspectives of the other characters who are very aware that Ilāra can’t manage a budget. Without help they really can’t manage their own money well enough to keep themselves fed, housed and clothed. Because they never learnt how.

 And again this comes up organically because it’s a big part of Ilāra's relationships. There’s a strange push-pull: Ilāra's hypervigilance internally rationalised as protecting these few valued people and those same people stepping in to do the things Ilāra can’t.

 They also experience chronic pain. Though I’m unsure whether this is primarily because of torture or because they lost a limb. And in a way the distinction doesn’t matter. Regardless of the cause it is there.

 They’re actually a lot better at dealing with it then Kibwe, because they’re much better at lying, acting and disguising their own distress.

 Ilāra's other symptoms are less immediately obvious in the narrative but again, they underpin everything.

 Ilāra struggles to relate to people, to really value them as people and they are incredibly socially isolated. Their entire social circle is essentially their family and their work colleagues and there is a lot of overlap in that Venn diagram.

 They don’t know how to honestly relate to other people. They play parts, putting on masks to get by.

 And this comes into the story with every interaction they have. It’s the contrast between their attempts at calculation around outsiders (and how often they’re rejected/dismissed) and their incredibly intense attachment to this small circle of people.

 I’m not sure what the end point of Ilāra's character arc is yet. But one of the things that keeps coming up is the question of who they are away from this small circle of valued people. And whether they can value their own life when they can’t ‘protect’ the people they love.

 Writing all of this out has made me realise something: it’s a lot easier to bring up symptoms organically when those symptoms become an intrinsic part of the character.

 And that can be difficult to grasp at the first attempt. Or the tenth. Or the hundredth.

 We are taught to assume health, be it mental or physical. That people have two legs and functional pancreases and don’t relive violent attacks every time they smell beer.

 Part of writing these things organically (for me anyway) is breaking that internal image. It’s… building a mind that’s a different shape.

 For both of these characters their symptoms are tied to important parts of the long term plot as well as their everyday experience.

 Kibwe would be a different person without his memory problems. They inform what he values, how he acts and the ethical lines he draws for himself. His intrusive memories impact his daily life and so does his chronic pain and hypervigilance. And this in turn impacts his relationships with the other characters, some of whom are more forgiving/understanding of his ‘moods’ then others.

 Ilāra is driven by their isolation and struggle to connect to others. It leads to them putting incredible weight and value on the few relationships they do have. And that drives them to act, to take risks. Fundamentally they fear loss and however calculating and cunning they can be that fear makes them do some idiotic things. Things that effect the plot and every other character.

 Hypervigilance and learning difficulties are their everyday experience. The tension they feel in crowds. The way they assess unfamiliar environments. The way they’ll hand over their pay check to a daughter-figure with a joke and tell themselves that she’s just fussing. The way they’ll get up in the middle of the night and count every item of food in the house.

 Writing mental health problems in an understandable way is like writing any other disability. It’s making it part of the character without it being the whole of the character. It’s recognising how any condition limits a character and having a clear view of when those limits are internal (ie the condition itself) versus external (societal, behavioural expectations, other people etc.)

 Including these things naturally means constructing scenes that are working at multiple levels. If symptoms impact how the characters relate to each other then they fit naturally into any important relationship moments. If symptoms impact the character’s everyday life then it’s natural for the character to consider them before taking an important action.

 When symptoms are related to a character’s long term motivation then it doesn’t feel jarring that they’d come up over and over again. In the same way that bringing up a character’s big-brother figure feels right when you’ve established they have an important, character defining bond.

 It takes practice. Writing is work and it takes a lot of skill to make it look effortless.

 Right now I think the most important thing to take away is this: keep trying. Write and write and write. Don’t let the fear of getting things wrong stop you from getting better.

 I hope that helps. :)

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*Yes I expect a lot from my readers.

#writing advice #tw torture #writing survivors #writing torture #writing recovery #writing symptoms #choosing symptoms #mental health #mental illness in fiction #disability

[thechekhov]

Hey Chekhov, it has been a few years since I logged into tumblr and checked on your blog, but I thought of a question for you the other day. I cannot remember what it was. However I have a handful of other ones that came up since I've been thinking of you. A lot of them are direct and I hope they don't come off as abrasive. Most are based on the assumption that you are still in Japan. Question 1: Is the fact that LGBT is criminalized in Russia part of the reason you stay in Japan? (1/?)

Hey there, welcome back to tumblr! 

I’m going to put this under a cut so that it hopefully does not take up too much space on people’s dashboards, because it will get LONG!

I’m gonna preface this whole thing with first clarifying - 

I have not lived in Russia for the past… 17 years. It’s been a while. Although I’ve been back to visit family for prolonged periods for numerous occasions, it’s not quite the same as a permanent residence there. So take what I say about russia with a grain of salt.

Before I moved to Japan, I was living in the states. I was in the states for about 12 years. I imagine that will color some of my answers in a specific way. 

Question 1: Am I staying in Japan because Russian law criminalizes LGBTQ? 

No. I’m staying in Japan because I currently have a job in Japan and also because American healthcare sucks. I have national healthcare in Japan and I rather enjoy not going bankrupt if I have to go to the hospital. 

Now, granted, I’ve been propositioned by my grandparents and other family SEVERAL times (read: every time we talk on skype) to return to Russia and resume living there. The reason I refuse THAT is, by and large, because of the attitudes and laws towards LGBT in Russia. (: My spouse and I have even considered going to visit there, but we keep putting it off because we would have to take some significant safety risks, and it’s just dodgy. 

Question 2: Was I ever outwardly LGBTQ+ in Russia? 

No, not ever. Not beyond presenting androgynously in public (which I also tone down on when I’m over there). 

I am not out to ANYONE in my family except for my mother, and although I make my opinions on matters of LGBTQ+ stuff quite clear when I’m with family, I am personally not mentally up for the amount of arguing that would ensue were I to come out to them. 

Beyond that, my social circle of peers in Russia is nonexistent at this point. Any friends I used to have in my youth I’m no longer in touch with. When I go back, I interact with family and no one else. 

Question 3: How am I navigating Japan’s strict immigration laws? 

I’m not sure which laws you’re referring to specifically. I came in on a working visa, have renewed it multiple times throughout my contracts, and have now changed it over to a spouse visa. Aside from copious amounts of paperwork, I’ve not had any trouble. 

Question 4: Has my androgyny caused me trouble at the workplace because I work with children?

So far, no. At least not to my knowledge. I know that at least SOME people read me as androgynous because when I was new at the office, I had an older man straight up go up to me and say (in English) “You - man or woman?” 

Younger kids also can’t read me well and argue about my gender in front of me. Their teachers are usually very quick to ‘correct’ them, though. Teachers treat their inability to gender me on the first try as something embarrassing and seem to be mostly fine with my androgyny, perhaps finding it somewhat ‘unfortunate’ that I look the way I do. They’ve never been unkind about it, though, and my job has never been affected by it on a professional level. 

Question 5: Do I have a background in art + education?

I actually have a background in Linguistics - specifically the acquisition of languages (second languages… foreign languages…) I’ve never taken art classes except for a Generals course in community college. It’s just something I do as a hobby. 

BUT (segway time!)

Question 6: Does art provide a significant income for me? 

Yes.

Which is actually shocking for everyone involved, especially me, because I never foresaw my art as being profitable, which is why I never went to school for it. 

Now that my Patreon is thriving, I’m making QUITE the headway into repaying my student loans. Granted, I never thought it would be possible, but the fancomic I’m doing of the White Diamond AU gave my artwork so much more visibility that I’m now able to say I DO make a profit on my art and could probably continue to do so. 

No one is more surprised than me! I do think that having a background in art can give you more TOOLS to start with. You can definitely make a living on art but it takes a while to get the momentum of it started, so having a backup steady job like teaching (as you mentioned) helps you stay afloat while you figure out the creative niches you have to fill.

For your last question regarding racism:

Racism in Japan is different than racism in the US (duh). Most of it is actually directed at Korean and Chinese and southeast-asian immigrants living in the country. In some ways, there’s also racism towards black people and latino people and etc - but it looks different than racism in the US, or racism in Europe. 

I’m hesitant to say that white people experience ‘racism’ in Japan as such. There’s definitely xenophobia that’s running rampant in Japan as a whole, and there’s issues of fetishism on a HUGE scale - stereotypes GALORE! Some people literally try to get with a white person ONLY for the sake of having mixed-race babies because they are “cuter”. It’s uh. Super weird.

But frankly, that’s all really minor compared to what you get in the states. It will change, of course, depending on your race, but if you’re white, rest assured that you are likely to get special treatment in Japan instead of discrimination. (Though of course that comes with the bonus of having to field really weird questions based on myths perpetuated by being an isolated island country.)

If anyone else living in Japan wants to chime in, feel free, but that’s all I’ve got.

If you read this far...

#chekhov answers #Anonymous #russia #japan #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtqa

[khangowrites]

Is it a Complaint Essay or is the Workplace Unsuitable?

Ah, what am I writing today? Oh, well I suppose it’s almost 12am. Seems like a good a time as any. I wanted to just jot down a few re-occurring experiences I’ve had in the workplace and sometimes in other social spaces, and attempt to analyze them.

CW: mild mentions of abuse and bodily ailments.

A bit of forward: I tend to mask myself heavily whenever I am in any social situation; whether it be at work, at home, with friends or online (although I’m getting better at being myself on Discord at least. I owe a lot to my friends who accept me and whom I care so much about.) What this means is I often plan out what I’m needed to say in advance of a situation. I have an arsenal of about 5 minutes of small talk before I tank and several small greetings/placations I can cycle through on any given day if I’m not overloaded. I also limit my natural inclination to movement.

It’s called unprofessional/unsightly to sit with your legs folded under you, or to sway and shake your arms and legs back and forth in time to music in your head. But it’s okay if you tap your pencil. Everyone does that.

I have to wonder how noticeable my ‘masked’ self is. How real or fake it appears.

There have been a few trends I’ve seen with the way people treat me as an employee in the time I’ve been in the workforce. For clarity, I am a 23 year old 5’1” AFAB person with a face that looks like it stopped aging when I was 12. I’m non-binary, but I’ve seen that many have a hard time using a different pronoun for me because I look ‘so feminine’. I had one old man repeatedly tell me that my body was too pretty and that I shouldn’t hide it and ‘pretend’ to be something else. I was and still am quite unsettled and disgusted by that comment.

I haven’t used my full preferred pronouns at work simply based in fear of being fired or discriminated against further. Same thing at home- I haven’t told all my family out of fear. I may look back on this at some future date where I fully respect myself and I’m confident. I look forward to that day.

Oh, and I’m autistic.

Perhaps it is one of these things or all of them that cause people to treat me certain ways. I’d like to find out.

I worked outdoors at an Orchard for a season. They called me Cinderella because of the way I looked when I cleaned. They gave employees gloves and heaters. Only not me. When I asked, I was given a broken one and told to fix it. A coworker who had intellectual disabilities and poor eyesight was not offered a heater at all. I did not renew for the next season. Kim and I stayed in touch though.

I worked next at a gift shop at a historical site. I loved the history and the old buildings, but the cashier work was admittedly difficult. Most of the employees were kind, retired old ladies who treated me gently, like a child. Sometimes too much like a child. The assistant manager seemed wary of me, and she often avoided me. I don’t know why. I’m not good with eye contact, and I always fear that people will mistake my zoning out as being creepy or disrespectful; maybe it was that. She never brought her kids with her on days I worked.

The head manager was courteous, but always called me Special. We had an older man work in the last 2 years I was there who had a strong inclination to associate with the children at the shop, and in turn, me as well. He would always want a hug or pat me on the back, but ignored the other workers. I told the managers my uncomfortable feelings about him, but it went mostly unnoticed.

When it was found that I was decent with computers, I was tasked with entering jewelry into the system and creating labels with number associations. I enjoyed it, and they promised me a decent raise. My pay was raised a dollar several weeks later, and I found myself being tasked with more and more computer work, to the point of becoming an office manager myself, earning a grand total of 9 dollars an hour while my counterpart who started a year earlier owned a home on the same work.

I left that job after 4 years to be the music director at a local church. I love music and was excited. Maybe too excited. I developed acid re-flux and was hospitalized the week before my start day due to a panic attack. I realize now it was from stress. I also had an ovarian cyst removed a year later- it took up my entire pelvis and its formation was also attributed to stress. I’ve since been diagnosed with generalized anxiety, and I continue to have ever changing digestive issues, muscle problems and panic attacks.

After realizing I was autistic and also non-binary, so much of the stress of life started to make sense. The past few months I have been making life changes, and working towards finding a workplace that is accommodating and safe for me. My stress has lessened.

I worked at the church for 2 years. My last day is actually at the end of this month. As is the trend, I was not treated with respect when it came to my job. My pastor started choosing the hymns over me, and would make comments about me during services. His favorite was to say that my music made him fall asleep, and wait for laughter from the congregation. He had no musical knowledge, and forced me to play every song as fast as I possibly could. He didn’t believe I could do my job. Any attempts at mutual work failed to manifest. I unfortunately was groomed by a member of the hiring committee there as well, a type of abuse I didn’t even realize I had fallen into until several months after it was too late.

I currently work at a high school as a choir accompanist. I use she/they pronouns there, but no one uses they and I’m too worried to be fully they like I am outside of work. I am wary of soiling my relationship with the director further. She’s quite religious in the ‘gays don’t have rights’ way, so I have my fears.

The director is kind, but sees me as this innocent child that happens to have natural piano abilities, and the mutual respect that I’ve come to dream of just isn’t there again.

The director has the key to the doors and lets students in without fail, but conveniently forgets to let me in almost every day. At one time, I was in physical therapy and had a hard time standing and walking for any period of time. I almost went home because she didn’t answer any communication, class started 20 minutes previously, and it was 90 degrees outside and I needed to sit down because my legs were cramping. She plans the music weeks in advance, but doesn’t give them to me until the day the students get it, despite my repeated asking for time to prepare.

One day I was on zoom and she and the student teacher greeted me and then ignored my presence and played the piano herself for class. She struggled with the parts and commented to the choir that, “wow, Ms. Khango is actually pretty dang good at this- that little girl can play!”, but didn’t listen to me when I offered to play. I left the zoom after an hour.

The online students seemed to share my surprise at least, and I am grateful to them. They kept me grounded and reminded me that I matter and should have the same respect as everyone else in the room, zoom or not. They talk to me about not being heard and their chats not being read during class. It bothered me, too. The next week I brought it up to her in the form of making sure the zoom students were heard and she quickly dismissed it, like it was a puff of smoke. The students online now ask me questions directly and I relay them. It’s met with annoyance by the director.

They have voices too.

One of the scariest moments of my life was last week- I wore my ‘disability rights are human rights’ shirt to school. (Okay, maybe not scary to some, but it very much was for me.) After class, one of the students came to me and asked if I could help him find a way for his grandfather to get a seat at the concert, as he was disabled and he didn’t know how to proceed.

It filled me with joy to help him, and it filled me with rage when the teachers asked if his grandpa could just get out of the wheelchair instead.

My overall conclusion to all of these things is that people simply don’t understand, or don’t want to because it makes their lives harder.

Is discrimination and ignorance really easier than respecting people?

I’m not sure if this is all just one big complaint essay. I guess it is. What I needed to do was write it all out. All the things that make me uneasy or feel like lesser of a person. And I wanted to know why.

I note that at every job I am perceived as a child, or as someone naïve. I am not treated the same as another adult employee. I was ostracized for my way of moving and talking. Taken advantage of. My needs were not accommodated.

Even now, I feel guilt for writing this, like I’m just playing the victim for attention or something.

I want to be strong enough to stand up to it and ask to be treated with respect and have it follow through.

I want to unmask myself more and let myself move and talk naturally, and use my real pronouns.

My respect for myself and for others must become a powerful force.

My friends on discord- my real, genuine friends, have become monumental in my life. Most of my life I did not have true friends. Without them and their unconditional love and support, I would not be where I am right now. We are all equals. I want to embody that strong respect and bring it to others.

It’s getting late. 1 a.m. now. Well, I have tomorrow. Plenty of time for Star Trek.

#workplace problems #actuallyautistic #essay #nonbinary #figuring out life

[squishybuttercup]

Nam Jaejoong

28 years old - Genius - Slob - Bookworm

@simvicii​ Alex’s Bachelor Challenge

(NOTE: Under the cut is LOOONG story with his earlier life containing tw violence and depression. If you’re okay with that content, I hope you take the time to get to know Jae.)

  Backstory:

Jae was orphaned when he was 10, and he had been keeping to himself mostly ever since then. His family had gone through series of tragedies, but most of those things do not make sense to a child. When he was 6, his older sister was diagnosed with Leukemia. Their parents’ relation started to strain as they struggle to earn money for his sister’s treatments and for their basic needs. They worked multiple jobs, and took turns in taking care for their children, but Jae was mostly overlooked. Both of them had to stop school, and so their only activities at home were reading and house chores (which eventually Jae had to do most as his sister’s condition worsened). Their parents were barely home, and when they were, all they would do is fight (screaming at each other and throwing things around the house). Eventually, his father stopped coming home. Without enough financial aid, medical treatments for his sister halted. She died when Jae was around 9 years old.

After years of struggles and pain, his mother was pushed to a point of experiencing depression. Again, a child wouldn’t know what to do in his situation. After all these things, the worst was yet to come for him. Robbers came to their house one night, and his mother tried to fight them of from stealing what is left of their savings. Jae rushed to help her but one of the robbers attacked him, all he could remember was a sharp pain on his face before he passed out (This resulted in him having a scar on his face). He woke up in a hospital bed, wherein a police officer broke the news to him, his mother was killed in the robbery. The orphanage has sent him from foster families after foster families. Jae spent most of his time on his own, reading books and trying experiments (when he has resources). He had a hard time at school because most kids and teachers just saw him as a weird kid. When he was 17 his genius potentials were noticed by their school principal who decided to give him a test, wherein if he passed he is then qualified to continue on to college despite him stopping school for a few years.

After passing the exam, Jae was then introduced to a couple willing to adopt him even though he is almost in legal age. The couple were both middle-aged doctors, who never had a chance to have a child of their own. They think that he will fit right in their household, and he did like it there. He had access to a library with a lot of medical books, a comfortable bed, and supportive guardians. During his time spent with them and in college, he slowly started to open up to other people. It was a little awkward for him at first to call them “mom” and “dad” but he got used to it.

For his bachelor’s degree, he took up BS Psychology. His course was a big part of how he was able to help himself heal and to also attend therapy. His social life also started to grow as he participated in different organizations that are about healthcare and environment preservation. When it comes to his dating life, well, college girls and boys don’t usually take interest on someone who has his face buried in a book. He went on a few first dates, but none of those developed into anything serious.

He did of course still spend most of his time reading, especially fictions which are fantasy genre since that was his interest when he was a kid. Jae was usually submerged in studying; this applies to all kinds of topics ranging from social issues up to medical discoveries. Whenever this happens, he tends to ignore the random papers, candy wrappers, water bottles littered in his room so his mom describes him as bit of a slob. (Their housemaid confirmed this).

His motto in life is “Keep Learning”. He values individual growth and always finds ways on self-improvement. He tried out sports during this time too, which are basketball and tennis. They were fun for him but they didn’t exactly become his favorite activities. But his experience did help him realize that hobbies aside from reading are important as well. This was how he developed the habit of jogging every other day, and he also tried going to the gym but that didn’t work out for him so he opted for exercising at home instead.

Jae entered medical school when he was 22, and he originally planned to pursue being a General Practitioner. But during his third year, when he had to choose his field of specialization in medical practice, he chose to focus on being a surgeon. Furthermore, his goal is to be a neurosurgeon.

When it comes to family bonding, they genuinely enjoy discussions related to their field of expertise. His dad is a Physician and his mom is an OB-GYN. But medical field aside, they enjoy watching action movies together. They also go out to eat ice cream during summer, and their favorite food to eat during winter is ramen.

  Right now, at age 28, he has finished 2 years of internship. He is currently evaluating his life and his goals in life.

“I’m working as an intern in the same hospital where my parents work. But I decided to take a small break from that for now. I am passionate about my career, but I’m also the kind of guy who dreams of having his own family. And uhm.. I’ve been thinking that I’m not getting any younger, and now more than ever I want to take this shot at love. I talked it out with my parents, because they’ve always been supportive of my career, and they said they want what’s best for me, and that I’m the one who knows that. I’m going to admit that the idea of my own family also terrifies me, but I also know that with the kind of person I am now, I’m going to be a responsible and loving father/husband.”

The reason why Jae is even able to make this choice, despite the well-known fact that doctors are busy as heck, is because of his security in his workplace and the support from his parents and friends. The hospital he works on ensures not only the best care for its patients, but also to its workers. The board members and all staff are aware of Jae’s capability as a doctor and treats him with high regard even though he’s only an intern so far. He had a discussion with the Director of the hospital before he started internship, to which he expressed his intentions and wishes regarding his working hours incase he decides to start a family. The Director is a good friend of their family, and one of the few people who knows about his past. Which is why he has made arrangements for Jae, with the knowledge that he will still be able to work his best.

Jae doesn’t really know what to think of fate or coincidences, but just during the start of his break, he saw “The Bachelor: Alexander Goth”. He wasn’t one to have crushes immediately on someone, more so on someone he hasn’t met. But boy did Alex leave an impression on him. The more he read about him, his interest in him develops and he hopes to get to know him in person someday. He deeply respects Alex’s work as an author, and he’s pretty excited to read his works!

“I’m entering this challenge and I view it as me spending time with possibly the love of my life. When it comes to what I look for in a relationship, I want someone I can grow with. People are so obsessed with finding their Perfect Match, and most of the time they just look for someone who is completely compatible with who they are at the moment, and worse they only want these ideal soulmates. I think that it’s important for partners to respect, trust and love each other. But they should also be aware that people continuously change overtime, and that as partners they must grow together and always choose each other.”

  Here is a CAS picture of him where his scar is now visible:

squishybuttercup’s notes: hi love!! I know that your aim with this challenge is to have gameplay-centered legacy. But the reason why I wrote this much detail about him is for you (and alex) to get to know him well. Gameplay-wise he can just work as doctor in the sims world and be one of the two best dads in the sims world. Also Jae isn’t the type of person who shares his life story away, so I imagine him telling Alex himself about that part ^_^ I’m super excited for this and I hope Nam Jaejoong gets picked! Anything else not mentioned here you may ask me or opt to have your own interpretation I don’t mind as I am literally offering him to be in your game ajsdfsjkl this also means i acknowledge that you might change his looks to fit your game’s aesthetics. also ily :p

#ts4 #the sims 4 #the sims #sims #sims 4 #maxis mix #simvicii #ts4 edit #sims 4 edit #sims edit #s4 edit #ts4 male sim #male sims #alexgothbcentry #my edits

[sadienita]

Bear Hug

Bear Hybrid!Seungcheol x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: Fluff

For @thetypingpup you’ve really very quickly become one of my closest friends. You make an effort to be there for me any time I’m upset or having a rough day. Countless times you’ve assured me that my feelings are valid whether I was willing to listen to you or not. You’re incredibly supportive and so much fun to bounce ideas off of. I very much hope that you are having a wonderful day, I am so incredibly lucky and blessed to know you. Merry Christmas.

“It’s money,” you muttered to yourself as you nursed a papercut that stung like a bitch. “I’m making money.”

You didn’t love this job. It was better than retail, especially retail during the holidays. That was an absolute nightmare and if you never did it again it would be too soon. This was definitely preferable. But there was a lot of paperwork and cardboard boxes and it was honestly surprising that it took more than a week for you to end up with a tiny stinging cut.

Your gaze found a clock and you tried to stifle your sigh of relief at the knowledge that you could leave so very soon. This place was still draining. It definitely didn’t help that some of your coworkers felt it perfectly fine, and in fact necessary at moments, to spew sexism and homophobia. You were only here for so long and not every moment was worth a fight, but it didn’t mean that hearing those things so casually said and laughed about wasn’t trying your patience.

All of that was to say, the moment the clock struck five, you were grabbing your jacket. You were quick to leave, only bidding quick goodbyes to anyone who caught your eye before exiting into the cool evening air. It was already dark out this time of year and you wrapped your arms around yourself, walking quickly with a chilling breeze nipping at your heels. You slipped past people on the sidewalk under the yellow flickering of the streetlamps as you headed home.

On days like these you didn’t want to do anything. You wanted to go home and curl up and forget about work and the stresses of life for a while. You didn’t want to dwell on the tasks that you had to finish, or the plethora of work coming soon. No, you just wanted to go home and cuddle.

You sighed to yourself as you headed down your street. You loved Seungcheol very much and you knew that he spent most of his time sleeping in the winter. You expected to come home and find him napping, but you missed the summer days just a bit where you came home to find him running around doing things. You told him he didn’t have to cook dinner or clean up but he took to it, not wanting to spend the days doing nothing. You got used to it and it was nice. But the last few weeks, as his tendency for hibernation set in, he was much more sluggish. You weren’t going to force him to do work when his body was telling him to sleep but you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss coming home to find dinner made when you were tired.

Your body felt drained and heavy as you dragged yourself up the steps to your door. The thought of ordering take out was too enticing at the moment seeing as you wanted to spend no time in the kitchen tonight. You fumbled with the key in your cold hands, feeling relief and warmth as you finally stepped over the threshold.

The first thing you noticed was the soft glow emanating from the living room. Curiosity took over your tired mind as you shrugged off your coat and pulled off your boots before wandering into the living room. A smile tugged at your lips as you took in the warm, inviting sight in front of you.

The living room was strung with warm white christmas lights, and a few strings of different coloured ones. In fact, you were sure that Seungcheol had grabbed every set of lights he could find and they were currently hung up around the room. He had grabbed every pillow and air mattress he could get his hands on and lined the floor with them. Blankets were draped and hung around the room, you were pretty sure he’d put hooks on the walls to get all of the blankets just so. You couldn’t help but grin at the cozy sight, and the scent of vanilla wafting out of the room told you he’d been burning candles most of the day.

You snuck down the hall to your room, pulling off your work clothes and changing into something a little more comfortable.You wiped off your makeup and freshened up before very quietly ordering some food. You had a feeling he had fallen asleep after setting up the living room.

You tiptoed back to his blanket den. After a bit of searching and craning your neck you located the entrance to his little fort. You dropped to your hands and knees, crawling into the fort as quietly as you could. It was rather spacious on the inside and the way the lights shone through the light blankets gave the space a warm, comforting glow. Seungcheol was curled up across a few of the pillows but as you crawled a little closer his nose twitched and his ears flicked. He let out a cute yawn and blinked his eyes open, his small tail starting to wiggle back and forth.

“You’re home,” his voice was gruff from sleep and the way he was reaching for you was too cute. You shuffled closer, very happy to snuggle into your bear hybrid’s arms.

“Yeah, I’m home,” you hummed tiredly. “You were busy today.”

“I wanted a den,” he mumbled. “It’s more comfortable when I’m sleeping all day. And If I burn candles when I’m awake it’ll smell nice when you get home. I know you like vanilla.”

“Mhm,” you sighed, nuzzling into his chest.

His arms seem to wrap around you a little tighter, holding you securely. “What’s wrong?”

“How do you know something’s wrong?” you questioned, a little glad that he figured it out, and yet surprised that he seemed to know you so well.

“You seem tired, and you came and cuddled so quickly. You normally start dinner when I don’t.”

You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent mixed with the vanilla filling the room.

“Work is just… tiring. The people test my patience at times and it’s not the best job anyway. I don’t have enough to do with my time and when I do I get stupid papercuts,” you grumbled.

“You’re upset because of a papercut?” As much as he was trying to listen he was still sleepy and groggy. 

“That was… that just made the day worse. But no, it’s being bored and not really wanting to be there and people saying things that I really don’t want to hear ever, let alone in a workplace. But I know when I’m done with work life is just going to get busy again. I want to be challenged a little more but I don’t want to deal with that much stress again. It just tires me out to think about it so I want to not have to for a while.

A whine left Seungcheol’s lips and you pulled back again to look up at him. He was pouting down at you with sad eyes. “I wish I could make it better.”

“I know you do,” you sighed.

He seemed to think for a second before a small, nervous smile tugged at his smile. “Where’s the paper cut?”

You brought your hand up to his face, showing him the papercut on your thumb that was still stinging dully. Seungcheol took your hand in his, wrapping his fingers around it gently and engulfing yours. He looked at the cut for a moment before bringing it to his lips. He left a sweet kiss on your thumb, lingering there sweetly before pulling back and looking at you proudly.

“Did that make you feel better?”

You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled and a smile spread across your lips at the sweet motion.

“Yes, it did.”

“Good,” he hummed. He shifted you around so you were facing away from him. His arms wrapped around you tightly and pulled you so your back was flush with his chest. Seungcheol wrapped his whole body around yours, his legs tucking in behind yours, and arms securely around your waist. He nuzzled a kiss to the top of your head before tucking your head under his chin. A content rumble emitted from his chest and he sighed sweetly.

“I could fall asleep like this,” you hummed.

“That’s the plan,” he yawned.

“I have food coming, you know.”

He only held you closer. “We’ll hear the doorbell. Just let me cuddle you. Let me make you feel better for a little bit.”

You were sure the warmth in your cheeks was from the blankets and pillows all around you. Still, you ducked your head just a little at Seungcheol’s sweet words, smiling to yourself. You had decided that this was better than dinner or cleaning or any of that. This might be just what you needed.

“I’ll do just that.”

#christmas 2019 #Seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #Svt #svt imagines #svt fluff #hybrid au #hybrid!seungcheol #s coups #s coups imagines #s coups fluff #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fluff

[notbecauseofvictories]

Can I ask what field your new job is in? I know you wanted to move away from law; I want to move away from the career path I've spent all the years since graduating university bolting myself to, and I just wondered how you did it/ if you did it, and what kind of sideways movements made sense for you?

For privacy reasons, I won’t talk explicitly about my new job, though you’re correct it’s not an attorney position. (I still love law but I’m not barred in Illinois and I haven’t been practicing long enough to waive in, which makes finding attorney jobs very difficult until I can retake the bar.)

I will say that if you want to move away from a particular career path, there are a couple questions I’ve found helpful to ask myself:

1.) What do I want to do when I grow up?

I am a big proponent of the game plan. 

You can, of course, jump off a cliff with no parachute or idea of what waits for you at the bottom. That is a certain kind of game plan! And some people pull it off with great aplomb, I’m not knocking it. However, I am a risk-adverse, pragmatic scaredy cat, and I absolutely never start something unless I have at least a vague idea of the best- and worst-case results. So when I’m about to make a life change like “get out of terrible job, move back to Chicago” I start by figuring out—well, what the hell does that actually look like?

But before I think about what that looks like, I take a step back and ask myself a whole battery of questions:

What is my ideal, perfect-world job? What’s my title? What are the hours I work? Do I travel often, not at all, somewhere in between?

What do my dream responsibilities consist of? 

How much interaction am I comfortable with—would I be happy sitting behind a desk all day, or do I want to be out among the people?

How much authority would be happy with? Do I want to be in charge, or is following orders where I’m most comfortable?

What else do I want in my life, such that I’m willing to make career tradeoffs? (e.g., do I want a family I spend lots of time with, a hobby I can devote myself to outside of the 9-to-5, a charity or start-up that I see as my real passion?)

Where do I want that perfect-world job to be? Am I happy changing cities, moving frequently, to pursue the work I want to do, or does location come first and drive what jobs I’m willing to take?

[An additional question you encounter a lot as a lawyer is: “are you okay not necessarily believing in the organization you serve? do you care whether  you serve a particular mission, or are you really just here to draw a paycheck and not break laws?” but I recognize that’s a conundrum probably….unique to lawyers.]

After answering the questions above, you might realize that your exact, ideal dream job doesn’t exist—that’s fine! but a valuable first step is understanding what your priorities are, where you see yourself being happy, and what you think is important in your professional life.

2.)  What steps would I very likely need to take to get there?

Even if it does exist, chances are you won’t be able to leapfrog from your current position to your exact, ideal dream job. (FYI, my current position is not my dream job or even really a stepping stone to the dream job; I made compromises based on other criteria.) So the next step is the inevitable plunge back into reality—namely, okay, so how the hell do I get to where I’m going???

If you don’t already know (which is likely, given that this isn’t your field) then this step is a knowledge-gathering endeavor. You’re trying to figure out what the path looks like, so naturally, consult other people on the path you’re interested in. 

Personally, I highly encourage you utilize the absolute crap out of your network. 

By which I mean: stalk facebook, LinkedIn, your school’(s) alumni pages, your parent’(s) friends, your friends’ friends, the people who work at the same place you do (even if you’ve never met them), everyone you have a mutual connection with via social media, individuals who belong to a professional association you hope to join, academics/journalists/lawyers/etc. with non-private twitters who you’ve looked up to for a long time and whose career you want to emulate, etc. If they’re nearby, invite them to a 15-20 minute coffee break. If they’re interested in mentoring, do lunch, dinner. Follow up with the professors who inspired you and email people who make news about stuff you want to work on. If you’re interested in going back to school for a degree (the clearest way to communicate a professional shift, fyi) then email the school you’re interested in and let them fete you. You’re going to be so obnoxious!!!*

* Do not be obnoxious. If you’re looking for a polite way to introduce yourself to someone you don’t know personally but hope to make a professional connection with, see me after class.

And honestly, sometimes the answer is a degree, a certification, a particular internship or a personal connection. Sometimes the answer is redrafting your resume. Sometimes the answer is “well, you’d really want to work as X or Y before I consider you for Z.” Sometimes the advice is, “sorry, we only consider graduates from this school/that internship/etc. and you aren’t so.” 

You end up having to keep looking, and looking and looking. There are a lot of ways to get rejected from a job these days. There are similarly a lot of ways to get where you’re going, whether you know about them or not.

………I’d also urge you to keep in mind that all advice (all of it, even mine!) is personal. When people talk about their careers, career paths, and their strategies for attaining both, they are speaking from a deeply private place—as much as “how to know your romantic partner is The One.” It’s just a bit more prosaic in its outlook. 

3.)What skills do I currently have, or can reasonable acquire in my current role, that will take me from A to X/Y/Z/or ultimately B?

Even if you could snap your fingers and go from point A (where you are) to point B (where you ideally, perfectly, want to be) chances are the you that currently, professionally exists wouldn’t be prepared for it. So as you think about transition to a stepping-stone job, or a new field, think seriously about what the hell you bring to the table and how you’ll convince that interviewer that actually, you’re perfect for the job. 

It does take some creative thinking and a little bit of conniving corporate wordplay (which is fair game, as the corporations invented it first.) For example:

Have you worked as a McDonalds’ drive-thru window representative and shift manager for the past 5 years? well, congratulations, you are, right now, an expert in customer service and human capital resource management. 

Are you currently a lowly typist-slash-clerk? well, mazel, because actually your specialty is in database management and particularly data cleansing, you could probably pass yourself off as an analyst if you knew a little R, python, or other programming languages.

Do you deal with disgruntled customers all day? Well done, because literally every industry will hire you, they all have angry people who call the hotline/helpline/tipline/etc. and are constantly on the lookout for humans who will not shout YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE back at said disgruntled customers.

Have you been in a different industry, but are looking to transition to a similar role in a new industry? Well done, you, talk about your leadership, curiosity, and self-starter attitude. Managers love a self-starter, probably because they like to entertain visions of not having to do work.

If you feel you could attain the necessary skills in your current role, sometimes  it’s just matter of talking to your current boss (depending on the boss!) Saying, “hey, I’m really interested in Z, could you put me on Z? is there any Z to be had?” is a good first step. Even just to tell the interviewer for a position with a lot of Z duties that you went to your boss saying “I want to do Z, Z is def a priority for me.”

4(ish): Keep reevaluating, based on the new information you acquire.

Going through Step #1 now, answering those questions about myself and my ideal work/workplace/job, is a completely different experience than it was in early 2018. As a recent law school graduate, all I thought about was finding the best learning experience—a year and 6 months later, having been run through the wringer of one helluva a learning experience, I can tell you that there is other stuff to think about. It’s not that my answers have changed, I would still be happy traveling, working long hours, with diverse clients. But there’s other stuff I couldn’t even conceive of then, that I realized (the hard way) was very important to me.

So don’t be afraid to revisit your answers, to keep thinking, reevaluating, considering where you are and where you want to end up.

#Anonymous #sarah gives advice #long post for ts

[emenvs3000-20]

My Role as an Interpreter

I know for certain that I am a nature interpreter, albeit a new one. I know that I am taking in all of this information from the profs, guest lectures and other forms of information and I am passing this knowledge along to others. I can see this most easily from my plant identification class. Going on walks now with friends and family I am constantly practicing my identification and teaching others little tips and tricks that I have learned along the way. I change little things about how to remember the plant, either how to identify it or how to remember its name based on the person. I try to find something that will relate to them to allow them to remember it easier. With my roommate I was teaching him about the American hophornbeam (Ostrya virginiana). It also goes by the common name of Ironwood, which is the street we live on, by creating this connection for him he can still recall the botanical name which I think is pretty cool.

What I still wonder is how to continue to create more meaningful interpretation, especially within the sites I design in the future. As the designer I can always include a plaque or signage to talk about the space, but this is not always the most meaningful way. We don’t necessarily talk about much of the interpretation that could occur on the sites we design but as stated in the textbook “every place in which interpretation could occur should include some element of interpretation” (Beck et al., 2018). This course has allowed me to reflect on past designs and rethink them. Where I put in a simple plaque to allow for interpretation could I have done something more thoughtful with the site design. Build the site to allow for the visitor to have a greater experience than just providing supplemental reading. This course has allowed me to understand many more ways that interpretation is possible that I never considered before. I will continue to include the idea of providing interpretive experiences in the sites I design and push my ideas further than before and hopefully be able to provide better experiences.

I find inspiration through many different areas. Looking at my classmates work, both in this class as well as my design studio and other creative spaces, seeing what others are creating is a main way. I also look into current designs that firms are putting out, I try to unpack the designs and imagine how the space would feel if I was there. This helps me imagine how the space is interpreted and what the designers want the visitors to focus on in the site. Practicing this helps me do the same for my designs, so I can understand if what I am trying to communicate is coming through or not. I will continue to look at my peers and other professionals to gain inspiration and learn from their successes and mistakes along with my own.

Lastly, I hope to ignite by sharing my passion and having that come through within my designs. I want to focus on accessibility and creating equal opportunities for these experiences within my designs and I hope that by focusing on accessibility I am creating places where all can learn about and from nature. I hope to ignite by continuing this and carrying it through to my workplace and finding a job once I graduate that also has the same passion for accessibility and inclusive designs as I do.

References

Beck, L., Cable, T., and Knudson, D. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage for a Better World. Urbana, IL: Sagamore – Venture Publishing LLC.

[justhereforthefanfiction]

Subtle Induction: Matteo x Adele drabble/one-shot

Whatttt!!! Okay, I did say I didn’t have time to commit to a fanfic, but this scene popped into my head and I thought, heck. Fine. I can smash out a drabble. 

Famous last words, eh?

This was inspired by one of my Titanic prompts - Christmas (Modern/Urban) AU, but leans closer to a Workplace AU. Not chrismas-sy though :(

Subtle Induction | Titanic AU | Matteo x Adal

Click. Click. Click.

She stared at the spreadsheet despondently, figures swimming in front of her eyes.

NG-Organise? More like NG-bullshit. 

She sighed heavily.

48 hours. That was all it took for her world to come crushing down. 

Adal moved to London upon accepting a job offer that seemed too good to be true. A passionate activist of women's rights, Adal was currently putting herself through a political science degree by working tables at the local pub. One night, she overheard one of her patrons waxing lyrical about the emerging tech giant that was going to change the world. Immediately, she was enamoured. She looked up their careers directory and applied for a place on their PR team. 

To her surprise, what she thought would be a shot in the dark became a dream come true when she received an email invitation for an interview. Mr. Vasari had taken her interview, shown her around the workplace, and offered her a position. His deep baritone, steady gaze and fierce intellect made her feel safe and listened to, and she believed if this was any indication of the level of leadership she had to look forward to, the job would be a slice of heaven.

Little did she know she made a deal with the devil.

She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly. The hairs of her neck began to stand. Her eyes flicked over the barrier to the cubicle in the corner. 

He was looking at her again. 

Rolling her shoulders back, she met his inquisitive gaze heads on. He did not look away. Instead, he quirked one thick eyebrow up, an insufferable smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Matteo Vasari was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. But little did he know, she was no lamb. 

Adal scoffed. He had set her on this path. Convinced her that this was the exact progressive workplace she wanted to be in. That this was the job of a lifetime. Convinced her to move to London, quit her job, uproot herself and her sister to seize the opportunity to make a difference.

Within 2 days of starting, the facade of the dream came crashing down. 

James Eisler, the British division’s CEO had invited her and Matteo to discuss her role and responsibilities. She left that meeting white-knuckled, with her breath caught in her chest. It was evident that she was a token hire, a woman and person of colour that would raise the profile of their company to several key stakeholders they wanted to impress. And what better way than putting her in-charge of publicity. A public face for a public role. 

Immediately she saw what she didn’t see right there before. A predominantly anglo workplace. No women in managerial or senior positions. A white saviour mindset permeating throughout their work in various sectors. None of their practices took into account local expertise in the countries they assisted. It was shocking. A complete contrast to their current image. 

No wonder why they splash the big bucks on PR, Adal rolled her eyes.

Click. Click. Click.

She couldn’t just cut loose. Her apartment and Hileni’s new school placement was tied up with NGOrganise. They had offered it as part of their reloaction service, and Adal took them up. Now everything was at stake. 

Worse still, she was tasked to win over Zetta Serda, beloved Oscar-winning actress and UN Goodwill Ambassador for the past 5 years. To convince her to be part of their charade in spreading awareness and goodwill across the globe.

Scowling at her screen, she hears the rolling of a chair in the distance. Sharp footsteps pad towards her. Adal kept her eyes glued to the screen, her hand twitching in anticipation. Not long, the telltale strong, spicy scent of his pomade invaded her senses. A small cough. She reluctantly lifts her eyes. Matteo throws her a short, wry smile and nods towards her screen.

“Having trouble?”, he tucks his hands under his arms, his forearms exposed by crisp rolled-up sleeves. His wristwatch glistens under the fluorescent lighting. 11.45am. Gods, the day had barely begun.

“Trouble e-stalking a celebrity, tracking down her movements and formulating a false impression of our work for the campaign? Now why would you think that?”

He smirks, finding her candor refreshing.

“You look like you’ve been kicked by a horse”.

She gasps. His smirk deepens. 

“Well, I happen to have a lot on my mind.”

Matteo’s smirk fades and he nods, deep in thought.

“And how is your sister settling?”

Adal’s back stiffens. Matteo sees how it’s taken and immediately shakes his head, hands raised, cool demeanour gone.

“I meant, with school and everything. I understand it was a big move for her too.”

A beat passes, Adal’s face an inscrutable mask. 

“Great. We’re grateful to NGOrganise for putting her at St Rose’s Girls. Not an easy school to get into, from what we hear.”

The unspoken implication of the statement hangs heavily between them. It is known that girls that look like Hileni do not go to prestigious, high crust institutions like St Rose's.

Matteo nods. He hesitates over what he says next.

“Adal...we take care of our own here at NGO. You needn’t worry. You have every reason to believe that we have your best interests at heart. James is a man of his word.”

“And you?”

Adal sees his eyes flash for a split second, and then flicker with something heavy. She thinks calling it remorse would have been too generous.

His voice drops.

“I’m not your enemy. Look around you. People like us, we got to do whatever it takes to keep those doors open.”

Matteo falters. He takes a deep breath, but thinking better of it, stops himself. He steps towards the back of her chair. Alarmed, Adal’s breathing jumps. 

He bends over her shoulder, an arm at the back of her seat, his face and hers side-by-side, inches away from each other.

She tries to avoid it but she can’t. From the corner of her eye, she can see every line, every hair on his face. 

Belatedly, she registers that he is reviewing her work, his eyes fixed on her screen.

She thinks she can’t possibly hide her reaction to him, but hopes against hope that he hasn’t noticed his affect on her. His face is a passive mask, but the glint in his eye betrays him.

After a tortuous 15 seconds, he points to the screen and turns towards her, his breath shallowly wafting across her face. Their lips are inches apart.

“Add a column here for resources. As long as it is a prospecting expense, you may use it however you like”.

He straightens up to leave. Adal feels her face warm up. As he walks away, she releases her breath and hangs her head in annoyance and confusion. Or rather, annoyance at her confusion. Wasn’t he Enemy #1 a moment ago?

Before she could complete the thought, Matteo turns around, his eyes flicking to her screen.

“By the way, good job.”

She hesitantly smiles.

“I want it in my inbox before lunch time”.

She scowls as she watches him walk towards his desk, grab his laptop and head towards James Eisler’s office. 

Don’t look a gift horse in it’s mouth, is that what he is trying to tell me?

She shakes her head, her hand going for her mouse. 

Click. Click. Click.

Her eyes look for him across the room. 

No matter what he says, he had full knowledge I was a token hire. He encouraged me. Deceit is deceit.

Matteo strides into the boardroom, laptop in hand. Their eyes connect.

No matter how pretty his words are.

Determined, Adal looks at her screen and gathers her thoughts. She wasn’t going to be a pawn in someone else’s game. So what if she was a diversity hire? She knew her worth, and no amount of commiserating over shared experiences was going to stop her from being who she was. She was more than her race and gender. She needed to walk away from this unscathed, on her own terms, her own way. And she would.

Whatever it took.

---

Author's note: 

Hellooo Life 2.0 cameo! Doesn't Matteo come across a little like Jaime, in the sense they are both aware of the POC ceiling at their respective workplaces?

Also, leaning towards Mena Massoud as a face claim for Matteo. He is a little prettier, and his face is rounder, but look:

Kinda? Maybe?

Still trying to find the perfect face claim for Adele, but no luck. I do think Naomi Scott would do a kickarse job as her, if she was cast. 

There, the plot bunny is out of my head (for now).

#storyscape titanic fanfiction #storyscape #storyscape titanic #storyscape life 2.0 #life 2.0 #matteo vasari #adele carrem #adele x matteo #mena massoud #naomi scott #adal karam #the things i write

[dejaaalm]

Fearless

I remember when I turned 16 years old, my mom brought me to Subway to apply for my first job. Applying and doing the interview was easy, but my first day on the job was really scary. I had so many doubts and questions. Was I ready to work? To make sandwiches in a fast-paced work environment? To provide good customer service? To count money and give back change correctly? I had all the thoughts and worries a 16-year old would have on their first day of working.

I remember the supervisor teaching me how to make all of the different sandwiches - this meat goes in here and this sauce goes with this. I felt fine at first because he was there to guide me. I felt confident and rest assured knowing that he had my back if I messed up. Two weeks after training, I was on my own. I felt lonely and unsure of what to do. I did not want to screw anything up. I still remember the first time I closed the shop all by myself. I had forgotten the password to the safe, how to alarm the store, and how to refill the pop machine. It was a disaster and I remember feeling so overwhelmed and afraid that I would get fired.

This experience made a huge life-long impact on me. The constant battle of feeling so fearful often wrapped its wings around me. When I got my job at Hennepin County in 2016, the adrenaline of fear slowly crept up on me again. My hire group and I were in training for about 2 months and then we were left to be on our own to prove that we were worthy enough to make the cut and be a permanent team member. Previously, probation was 6 months long. Training lasted 2 months and then we have 2.5 months to process cases and have them be reviewed. I needed to pass both months with a cumulative average of 85% or higher to show that I understand policies and procedures.

I witnessed people from the previous hire groups get fired. There were a few people in our group that got fired or left to find a new job. I was mad and irritated with health care policies and processing procedures. I wept and wanted to quit every day. I felt so neglected by my senior colleagues and supervisors. I felt like God left me there to be tormented and slowly die on the inside because every ounce of confidence and pride that I had left within me had gone out the window. I began to question my own worth. Am I cut out for this job? Do I suck this bad? Do these numbers and percentages really depict my worth?

I was angry for a while. One day, I was praying to God about how hurt and mad I was about the probation process. During my prayer, God revealed something so prominent that I will never forget. In the quiet, I heard "But this was the job you desperately prayed for a few months ago. This was the breakthrough you cried for. Now that you have it, you want to quit?" Right at the moment, one of my favorite Bible verses pierced my heart: Jeremiah 29:11. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Right then, I stopped crying. I stopped bickering. I stopped venting. I began to praise him and thanked him for all that I have been given. I promised myself that I would work harder and shift my focus from my defeats to my victories. I would allow God to use me, mold me, and take me to where I need to be.

That prayer led me to so many incredible experiences and connections with people at my workplace. This is not to say that I completely stopped feeling fearful, overwhelmed, angry, and anxious because I still feel all of these emotions from time to time. I still feel defeated and have lots of questions sometimes. The difference is that I have a better coping mechanism and I've learned to really do a lot of self-care. Instead of re-evaluating my entire life and mishaps, I focus on realistic goals that I can reach. Instead of feeling sorry or sad for myself when I didn't do something well, I focus on how I can improve. Shifting my mindset and letting God take the lead has really allowed me to take on opportunities at work.

I got two promotions last fall! I got promoted to be a senior and to be a mentor. I train new workers to potentially become a worker like my colleagues and me. I create training materials and activities, facilitate group discussions, train in-person and virtual training courses, and so much more. For the most part, I love my job. COVID-19 has really stretched my co-workers and me in a lot different ways on a personal and mental health level, but we're hanging there and doing our best to provide meaningful training content.

We have two new hire groups. Our Aug 2019 group completed their formal training and case reviews already but we are still providing support to them. Our March 2020 group started at a really awkward time. It happened right after Gov. Tim Walz ordered everything, except for essential workers, to shut down. We've been training everything virtually. We work with a very complex health care system so it's not easy training this stuff virtually.

Before the state was ordered to shut down all non-essential workers and employment, we were gearing up our Aug 2019 group for the formal period--that is to dissect their case work and look for errors. This process is currently on hold. I could see on their faces how stressed out they were. In fact, one of them broke into tears and walked out of the classroom a few months back because she was so overwhelmed by the amount of test evaluations they were taking. I was not there but when I heard about it, I wanted to hug her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. All of what they're going through right now is to prepare them to gain the knowledge and experiences needed for their future role as it has done for me.

I think our relationship with God is a lot like that. The beginning stages always feel like we're on cloud nine and things are going smoothly. We happily pray every day, sing songs of praise, read scriptures, and intentionally engage in bible studies with friends. We attend conferences, retreats, and worship events to be filled. We want and search for that feeling of "God is in my life and he's guiding me onto the right path." It feels good to have a sense of direction or feel that God is holding us in the palm of his hands. But what about when we hit rock bottom or get close to it? Or, how about the days when we feel like we're worthless, our life has no meaning or value, or you feel like no one cares about your passion and goals. Even in my own personal walk with Christ, sometimes I feel like that long lost and lonely 16-year old making sandwiches at Subway. I need someone to hold my hand. I hate the process. I hate the struggle. I hate what I'm going through. I need to be reminded of my purpose and that God still has a plan for me.

Often times, I was afraid. I was constantly afraid of doing things on my own, or facing trials and challenges, or trying new things, or believing that God really does have a unique plan for me. I realized that my biggest fear is actually not really a fear. I have a trust deficit. I don't trust myself, my skills and abilities, and sometimes, I don't even trust those closest to me. They say, trust in God because he has a plan for you. How can I trust in God if I can't trust myself and others?

Being fearless is something I struggled with. I'm afraid of so many things but most importantly, I'm afraid of my journey with Christ. I'm afraid to let God take control of my life. I'm afraid of being obedient because I don't know what's ahead of me. If you're anything like me, I like to read spoilers before reading a book or watching a movie or tv show. It is so weird but I do that all the time. I don't want to feel like I wasted my time on something so good but it ended so terribly.

It's easy to look up scriptures and read it and say "Oh, that was really good. I needed that today." This doesn't have any meaning. It's a quick "hand-holding" moment that often times lasts for a few minutes and is forgotten. One scripture in particular that has really been my living testimony the past decade is Joshua 1:9 - "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."

When I was younger, I always liked this verse. I had it memorized and even recited it out loud whenever I was afraid. But to believe and trust in it was a different process. To see the word of God come to life and manifest in my life was compelling. This bible verse is no longer just an encouraging or inspirational verse. It's alive! It's real. Believe it. Let scriptures come alive.

I don't think it was the struggle of the work or the amount of work that I was afraid of; I was afraid of not knowing what will happen. I was already afraid of the possible negative outcomes if my performance was poor during probation. I was afraid knowing that I was on my own. But God says that we are never alone for he is always with us wherever we go.

During this pandemic, it is completely normal to feel fearful. It is our natural response to a global disaster such as COVID-19. Our social media and news outlets continue to feed us fear. We fear of being disposed to illness, fear of being sick, fear of dying, and fear of running out of food and supplies. Our entire focus is on social distancing and staying safe. Fear has consumed many of us. I encourage you to relinquish your fears today, whatever it may be or what it is related to, and let God take the lead. He knows your strengths and weaknesses and what you are capable of doing more than you know. When you let go and let God, you find the courage and strength to overcome your fears.

It’s easy to fall through the cracks and let the enemy seep through with lies and chaos. Whatever you are going through, know that God is bigger. I often tell my kids to trust me because I know what’s best for them and I know that they don’t know, so in essence, God is the same way. We don’t know what the outcome will be weeks and months from now, but we do know that God is loving, forgiving, kind, and faithful. Call unto him and he will hear you. I am praying for you, dear friend. Be fearless!