#i just needed to do it bc my social anxiety is worsening to the point of impacting my day to day life

[meat-huge-pain-endless]

yeah yeah yeah i know that i need to do the good thing even if its the hard thing but god dammit sometimes it’s rlly fucking hard!!!!

#i just deleted instagram bc i know for a fact it was actively making me worse #i had originally just removed it from my home screen and turned off notifs and was like #yeah this will work i’ll exercise self control #and then i was doomscrolling reels for HOURS today #idek how long but it was too fucking long #and i realized that even tho i rlly rlly rlly didn’t want to delete it #(which the reasons i didn’t want to delete it basically boil down to i am obsessed with perceiving and being perceived) #i just needed to do it bc my social anxiety is worsening to the point of impacting my day to day life #and like ability to exist as a person #and the fucking panopticon that is instagram literally fuels that so bad #like u can see what posts someone liked who liked their post who liked an instagram reel who liked a comment when they were last active #who they follow who follows them and then there’s story views and story likes and the notes you can leave and just AHSHFJRKIF #IT DRIVES ME INSANE THERES SO MANY RITUALS AND I GET SO OBSESSIVE ABT THEM #BC I FEEL LIKE THERE IS A ‘RIGHT’ AND A ‘WRONG’ WAY TO USE SOCIAL MEDIA #LIKE IF U DONT USE ALL THE FEATURES OR HOW ITS INTENDED #ugh #plus i’m so unhealthily obsessed with what other ppl think of me and. yeah instagram makes that worse too!!! #but the other hard thing i’m doing is a t break #genuinely can’t remember the last time i went more than like. a day or 2 without smoking #i’m out rn and don’t rlly have any money so it’s kind of a forced break but like a break is a break atp #and ik it’s the good thing #for like health/dependency reasons #but GOD does it help with the anxiety #and like normally what i do with a thing like this that i know i need to do for myself but dont want to #is i just don’t. and i think that everything will turn out okay cause im like #well if i’m aware of why it’s bad/why i need to stop then i can just keep doing it but less/more carefully/whatever #yeah no that’s not how that works bro! nice try tho! #self care is fucking hard sometimes

[adelle-ein]

rambling about the ocd

so yeah yesterday not only did my ocd therapist tell me i have the highest ocd score she's ever seen (and like, she is not a new or inexperienced practitioner by any means) she told me that apparently a lot of my thought and behavior patterns are obsessive-compulsive. and a lot of them tie back to really extreme morality ocd, which actually explains a lot about the ways i've acted my entire life that were just brushed off as weird/quirky/generically anxious. even my other ocd "types" (contamination, etc) are all manifestations of severe morality ocd (i fear various forms of contamination because it makes me immoral, essentially) (that's fun).

i really didn't think it was that bad. i didn't think it was especially bad at all, truth be told, just one of the many diagnoses that make up my weirdness. but actually it's probably been the root cause for everything all along, including stuff i dismissed as just my own weirdness, like the extreme sensory processing stuff that's developed lately (fwiw i bought some new water bottles and significantly improved my hydration so working towards recovery on that). but since i don't have any compulsions that cause myself visible physical harm i didn't think it could be Real ocd. like i don't handwash to a dangerous level or self harm or starve myself, so i thought it was okay (nvm that i have caused myself extreme and permanent-feeling mental damage lol)

i've been perpetually exhausted, 24/7, since i was fourteen. because my brain's been at constant war with itself and still is and inhibits everything i do. because every single action i take is like moving through a molasses of obsessive thoughts and finishing compulsive rituals. my self esteem is somewhere in the marianas trench bc i feel like i'm constantly violating moral norms 24/7. the drugs that allow me even basic function worsen the fatigue and the brain fog and the weakness, but i need them or i literally can't stop doing compulsions. like if they stop making it or something i would need 24/7 care from my parents again bc i wouldn't be able to feed myself or shower or sleep.

i had been wondering a lot the last couple of years if i was autistic, especially with the sensory stuff, but it's now dawning on me that i just have the absolute worst fucking ocd that manifests itself in literally every aspect of my behavior and thought patterns. it looks very autistic on a surface level and gets me a high raads-r score, but probably isn't. like i could still be autistic, sure, but it's most likely that i just have incredibly severe ocd with every "less common" side effect known to man - sensory issues, routine and planning, social anxiety, stimming, etc etc. i did know that ocd/autism/adhd symptom overlap is huge but not that it was this huge.

none of this really changes anything, like i still need treatment, she's still gonna see me, but like, fucking hell. even i had been downplaying how sick i was, and probably still am, like even now i'm like well it can't be THAT bad i'm not dead :) but it is that bad. it's insanely bad. it's far worse than the "well everyone's kinda anxious and depressed right?" standard i keep tricking myself into believing i am. even now i'm STILL fucking questioning it bc i see people with ocd who seem so much worse than me but really i think that's more about what people are willing to put on the internet....i do not share my worst obsessions and compulsions generally and even when speaking privately to people i still downplay things heavily, i just can't do it. i'm extremely good at masking and hiding and downplaying because i've been doing it my whole life and a lot of my compulsive behaviors look pretty normal from the outside...but they're still very bad and the obsession levels are out of control high. and i've been doing so badly lately that i've had to step back from social media a lot because literally everything is a severe trigger at this point, from fandom drama to serious political stuff, because i get caught in a severe mental morality feedback loop every time i see something that can trigger it which is now a lot of things. but the stepping back also triggers a morality loop wheeeeeee (i see a ukraine flag emoji and have to sit there processing extremely distressing Moral Thoughts about ukraine and the war, for like...a while. to give you an idea of how severe it's gotten and why i've absolutely had to go quiet and careful with how i interact with pretty much everything, esp online where extreme positions are really common. i'm also really prone to picking up other people's anxieties and compulsions rn so again have to be SUPER careful what i look at - a tumblr poll about cleaning habits or similar can trigger compulsive behavior...)

it would be super cool if the ssa had cared about any of this but that ship's long sailed and they don't believe in or speak with therapists anyway (at least not in my state, they refused to even contact my therapist for the review they kicked me out over. even MD mental health practitioners aren't really exempt, they treated my psychiatrist incredibly rudely...)

but yeah no wonder i'm so dysfunctional and struggling so badly if i'm this abnormally ill ig

#this isn't very coherent i'm just...processing #txt #lacevent

[cinnaminsvga]

A Boy Like You | Yoongi

→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.

{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff → warnings: an overabundance of shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to squish his cheeks; kinda ooc but it is what it is → words: 11.5K → a/n: whaddup kids it’s ya girl... back from the dead after months of not writing shit, and what’s this owo... it’s a fluff fic?? miracles do happen... anyway i wrote this bc i just thot “man, wouldn’t it be super epic if i wrote a super self-indulgent fic where yoongi fulfills every single one of my deepest desires?” well... here is THIS!! pls feel free to scream into a pillow bc i certainly did!! enjoy!!

There is a boy you know who likes to show his kindness quietly. It would go something like this:

The air is thick with static; your hair stands up on end: a warning. The scent of raindrops hitting hot pavement graces your nostrils as a waterfall drops from the sky. You see the sea of heads begin to disappear under a canopy of multi-colored umbrellas. You, the lone ranger, rush back into the building from whence you came, dragging puddles and annoyance with you.

You should have anticipated it, should have thought to check the weather app before scrolling through dull social media posts when you left your house that morning. Instead, your fingers are left cold and umbrella-less.

You tilt your head upwards, watching as gallon upon gallon fell from the sky in an endless cycle. The watch on your wrist reads 5 PM, but the sky says it is 9 PM. The dark, swirling mass of clouds above you will continue on its thunderous parade, pausing for no one, especially not for you.

Your work bag is practically weightless, devoid of anything that might protect you from the onslaught of rain. The only thing inside is a small wallet that holds nothing more than dust and a loose promise of a paycheck. There is no way you can call a taxi like this, and the nearest bus stop is at least two blocks away. You are starting to think that your childhood dreams of becoming a mermaid hadn’t been so ridiculous after all.

Then comes the hand of God. It touches your shoulder gently, hesitantly. You turn around to face a stranger, a boy with shaggy black hair and pale moonlight skin. It is not God, but he comes close.

In his other hand is your salvation wrapped in Kumamon print nylon. It is proffered to you with a silent nod, his gaze fixed somewhere behind you as he waits for you to take it. The tips of his ears begin to redden the longer it takes for you to respond. Eventually, your brain connects with your muscles as you robotically pluck the umbrella from his grasp, a stuttered “thanks” leaving your lips.

He nods stiffly once more, removing his palm from your shoulder as though he had been burned. He shuffles for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the words to say. You wait, patience never waning for the strange boy that you have come to know as your salvation.

He doesn’t find the words after all. You aren’t too offended by his silence, but he appears to be mortified. And so, he leaves just as quickly as he had appeared, like a whirlwind dressed in an oversized blazer flapping behind him like wings. He runs through the rain without another thought, an arm raised above his head in a futile attempt to avoid getting wet.

You try calling out to him, wanting to thank him once more and maybe to ask how you can return his umbrella, but he is long gone. A speck of black dashing through the gray.

You clutch the umbrella closer to you, a feeling of something new growing inside of you. It is too small to call anything, but it is warm.

x x x x x

Umbrella boy has a name, and he happens to work on the same floor as you. You know this because he is standing right in front of you in all his bespectacled glory.

He ducks out of view the moment your eyes meet his. There is a stack of folders in his arms, and he bows his head until his nose touches manila. It’s too late––he knows you caught him staring. He scurries behind walls of filing cabinets and desk cubicles, desperate to get back to his desk where he hopes you’ll never find him.

The office floor is large, but it is not large enough to hide in. It takes only a few minutes until you find him hunched over his desk, every inch of space taken by enough towers of paper to cover a forest. It is no wonder that you never encountered your mysterious umbrella boy; he does a wonderful job of blending in.

Your eyes trail his form, not out of any perverse intent, but just out of curiosity. You never would have guessed from his unassuming and meek nature, but the boy is devastatingly beautiful. The devil is in the details: you admire the soft slope of his nose to the adorable pout of his lips. His eyelids are charmingly mismatched and his cheeks are begging to be pinched. It takes a year’s worth of self-restraint to keep your hands at your sides, if only so you don’t scare him away before you can even introduce yourself.

(You can already imagine your HR department contacting you about nonconsensual manhandling… You admit that you tend to get overzealous with your affection, especially when confronted with cute things. This boy would definitely need to watch out for you if he knows what’s best for him.)

((Also note to self: Stop having these psychopathic conversations with yourself. Being stuck inside the cage which is your brain is torture enough, so let’s not encourage it to get worse.))

There is a lanyard laced around his neck, the gaudy orange color of your company’s logo emblazoned across the thin material. And just out of your line of sight, you catch a glimpse of his ID. His name is––

“Y-Y/N?” He stutters out–no–he squeaks. Ah, so he’s noticed you. The folder in his hand slips out of his grasp, an avalanche of white tumbling all over his lap. He curses loudly, frantically sweeping away the mess under his desk, as if he could somehow magically make them disappear if he just kicked them hard enough. Unfortunately, the papers stay stubbornly tangible, and he is left with a halo of accounting reports around his workspace as a result.

“Are you… umm…” You hesitate with your words, fearing that any sudden movement on your part might cause umbrella boy to combust on the spot. “Do you need help… picking those up?”

“I–Well, no–Yes, but–” His sentences are stilted, his brain struggling to catch up with his tongue. He clamps his mouth shut, then shakes his head like he’s trying to reboot himself. Finally, after a few more deep breaths, he goes, “No. I’m fine. Thank you for offering.” He says that, but he appears awfully content with staring holes into the keyboard of his laptop when he is speaking to you though.

“Still… I’m terribly sorry for startling you,” you say, lips tugging downwards into a frown. You should have guessed he was skittish from how he had acted yesterday, but it’s quite a surprise to see one man so… disastrous, for lack of a better term. It’s awfully cute. “I just wanted to properly introduce myself and thank you for lending me your umbrella yesterday, but it seems like you already knew who I was.”

His face does a weird thing then and there. It almost appears like he was caught in a time loop, like someone was manually reversing and replaying his facial expressions like a video. It takes a few minutes for his little stroke to settle down, but even then, his cheeks remain a rosy pink. “I–I just… remembered your name during the company retreat the other month. I’m not weird or anything, I swear!”

“Well luckily, I was never going to accuse you of being weird anyway!” You laugh, trying to ease the perpetual look of anxiety on his face. However, it only seems to worsen his nerves with how quickly his skin starts to redden. “In fact, I should be apologizing for not remembering your name, Mister..?”

“Min Yoongi,” he replies, pausing for a second too long. He must have realized his delay because he coughs awkwardly into his forearm, averting his gaze away from you in a futile attempt to become nothing more than an abstract thought.

He must be equipped with some sort of superpower, because you’re starting to feel his secondhand embarrassment flood through you like a tsunami. Are you that difficult to converse with? Does he want to be left alone so badly that he’s trying to subtlely tell you to fuck off?

You’re about to start apologizing and scurry off back to your desk in barely concealed mortification when Yoongi clears his throat, his gaze fixed somewhere to your right. Whatever caught his attention must have been revolutionary with how large his eyes are, although last you remember is that the wall behind you is the same dull jailcell gray that you have come to know and hate.

“I just… I’m sorry if I’m acting odd right now. I just wasn’t expecting you to come to my cubicle and I would’ve… I don’t know, tidied up? If I knew you were coming,” he mutters, propping his glasses back up when they start sliding down his nose. They make their slow descent back down immediately after, forever on an endless cycle of up and down his face.

“You don’t have to clean up just for me! I’m not your manager or anything,” you say, surveying the absolute disaster zone that is his workspace. For his benefit, you sure hope that he has a map of his desk and filing cabinets, as it would have been a miracle otherwise if he memorized where anything was located in his personal office sty. “Though, it would be nice if you could see the bottom of your desk every once in a while.”

To your immense surprise, Yoongi lets out a resounding laugh at your quip. Though Yoongi isn’t a mute by any means, it isn’t like he spoke with much volume either. You hadn’t even thought your joke was funny enough to deserve a strained Caucasian™️ smile, so you appreciate that he had considered that you were even slightly funny. You love the pleasant tinkling of his laughter, so genuinely joyous that you can’t help but want to make a fool of yourself just so you can hear it again and again.

When Yoongi stops, the familiar reddish hue that has made a home on his cheeks resurfaces, though it’s less from embarrassment now. His shoulders are more relaxed, and he doesn’t look like he wants to crawl out of his skin as much. He still has eyes averted away from you, however. “Sorry. I don’t know why I laughed too hard at that. I’m normally not this weird… I think it’s just the nerves.”

You cock your head to the side. “Nerves? From what?”

Yoongi freezes, mouth gaping open slightly. “I, umm…” He coughs into his white button-up sleeve, pupils shaking as he formulates a response. “Just from… work. Yeah, I just have a lot of paperwork to do this week and I’ve been, er, having difficulty relaxing.”

Yoongi visibly breathes a sigh of relief when you accept his flimsy excuse, not really lingering on the validity of his statement. “Oh, sure! Don’t overwork yourself too much, okay?” you say, smiling sweetly back at him. He stares, wide-eyed, not really sure how to go on with his life after he’d been blasted by the full force of your grin.

God, you hope you remembered to use a toothpick during lunch. Was there spinach in your teeth? Oh fuck.

“Gah,” he intones, his brain not fully cooperating with his mouth just yet. If you were any more socially inept, you’d probably be doing the same. Eventually, he clears his throat and tries again. “Uh. Yes. I’ll try to do better next time.”

Feeling like you’ve overstayed your visit, you decide that it might be best for you to leave him be before either of you do or say anything more awkward and stupid. Before you turn to leave however, you decide to extend your hand forward, hoping to erase all the previous awkwardness between the both of you and hopefully start afresh. Even though you’ve only just met, you can’t help but feel drawn to him, wanting to see him again and somehow gain his friendship. “Hey, no sweat. It was really nice meeting you, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Just Yoongi is fine,” he says, almost like an afterthought. He’s so busy staring at your proffered hand that you are afraid that you might have offended him unknowingly or something. Does he think you don’t wash your hands? Given by the fact that your office’s manager refuses to restock the soap dispensers at the washrooms, that isn’t that much of a stretch. Or maybe he was weirded out by your random handshake? Have handshakes become antiquated these days? Are the kids no longer doing it? Are you supposed to do those awful brohugs like the fresh-out-of-college interns do in the breakroom? Oh God, does Yoongi think you’re old?!

While you were in the midst of your mental breakdown, you soon begin to realize why Yoongi had contemplated returning your handshake for so long. Instead of taking your hand immediately, Yoongi rubs his own two palms together first, much like how one would when warming their hands in front of a fire. He takes care to blow on them slightly before grasping your hand firmly in his, finally bestowing you with your much awaited handshake.

“Umm..?” You stare at your intertwined hands, a little confused about the previous series of events that just happened five seconds ago. Yoongi, in all his adorable and flustered glory, releases your hand much too quickly like he’s been shocked, most likely realizing (belatedly) that what he had done might not be as clear to an observer as it is to himself.

“Oh, I – I’m so sorry about that, again.” Yoongi stutters, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s just – my hands are really cold so I was trying to warm them up before I held your hands. I’m – I only just realized how odd that must have looked. Sorry.”

A rush of endearment and warmth surges through you as you behold this high strung boy, your heart flooded with a mix of emotions that make you feel gooey and blissful in one perfect package. No, this boy is the perfect package, all soft edges and blushy cheeks. It’s going to take a mountain and a room of vengeful deities to stop you from walking past his desk to catch a glimpse of him at this rate.

Oh God, you’re whipped already and it’s only been a few minutes since you said hello. He warmed his hand for you for heaven’s sake! Surely your enthusiasm can be excused in this one instance.

“That’s, uhh…” Now it seems that it is your turn to be at a loss of words, your throat clogged with a clump of newly discovered feelings that you don’t have enough time to sort through at the moment. The hamster running circles inside your brain has long since ground to a halt, and if Yoongi is going to keep staring at you with those charming cat eyes for any longer, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to convince the little vermin inside your skull to puppet your body again. “That’s… really sweet. Thank you.”

Thank you? Really, Y/N?

“It’s, uh, no problem. Really.” And with that, Yoongi presents to you his most deadly smile to date: blinding whites coupled his prominent pink gums, with his cheeks stretched like proofed dough that make his dark eyes disappear. Is there a pencil wedged inside your chest cavity, or were you just spontaneously having a heart attack? It’s hard to say; all you know is that your organs have turned to slush, and you make a mental note to send the imminent hospital bill to a certain Min Yoongi.

Cause of hemorrhage: being too fucking cute.

With your daily dose of embarrassment fulfilled, you turn to leave with short stilted steps, as if you have to force yourself away from him like those stubborn souvenir shop magnets that never come off the fridge. “I guess I’ll see you around?” you say more like a question, unsure if he’ll even want to ever see you after that disaster of an interaction. Kim Namjoon from Accounting would be entirely too delighted if he ever found out that he wasn’t the most awkward human being in the office.

“Sure? I’ll just be here. As always,” Yoongi replies kindly, same gummy grin on his face, albeit a little more hesitant. “It was nice speaking to you, Y/N.”

When he returns his attention to his workspace, it serves as a signal to you that you really should be going. Before you leave, you take note of the subtle red tint of his ears that reaches the back of his neck, the gentle tremor of his hands as he reorganizes the files that he had previously dropped. It makes you feel odd for relishing in the fact that you hadn’t been the only one feeling the tension between the two of you, though that doesn’t help lessen the confusion that soon follows anyway.

Why are you so drawn to him? You have never felt so strongly for someone this quickly, and frankly it sort of frightened you. You’re too afraid to confront that blossoming curiosity inside of you. No, it’s much too soon for that. For now, however…

“Oh shit. I totally forgot to give him back his umbrella,” you curse yourself once you return to your desk. The smiling face of Kumamon looks at you knowingly, as if this had been planned all along.

Well. Now you have an excuse to see him again tomorrow, at least.

x x x x x

There is a boy you know who likes to show his tenderness quietly. It would go something like this:

Company dinners shouldn’t feel like as much as a punishment as it does, but that’s just how social gatherings with semi-professional coworkers are like. No one here really wants to be there, but the carefully worded e-mail sent to the entire company clearly suggests that this was more of a “go to the party or risk getting fired” type of deal than anything remotely enjoyable. As much as free food and booze are often harbingers of a good time, it hardly makes any difference when your inebriated boss spends the entire time chatting you up in front of the presence of a dozen or so indifferent associates.

“Oh, Y/N! Good job securing that deal with Mister Park the other day. It’s all thanks to my valuable tutelage, is it not?” your manager guffaws, slapping your back with misplaced camaraderie. He leaves his warm, sweaty palm there, feeling it slide an inch lower than you were comfortable with anyone being. The smell of cheap wine on his breath is making you feel nauseous, and the tacky black and white tiled flooring isn’t doing anything to lessen the incoming migraine.

“Right,” you say with a tight-lipped smile, unable to say anything else lest you lose your job over something silly like establishing boundaries. It’s no wonder that the number of female employees on your floor has significantly dropped over the years, especially with rumors attaching themselves like maggots all over your stupid manager’s name. You wouldn’t be surprised if his stomach exploded ala Alien (1979) style with how much bullshit resides in his body and soul.

You’ve long since given up on anyone saving you, not when everyone was either too busy taking advantage of the free food or too scared to confront your shitty boss. You resign to your fate, ready to scrub yourself clean with a brick once you get home in a futile attempt to rid yourself of the feeling of his hands on you.

That is, until someone clears their throat from behind you.

Salvation comes to you wrapped in a crisp white button-up, thick-rimmed glasses, and cat-like eyes. You almost want to start breaking into Gregorian chant just then to fully express your gratitude to the deities of above for sending an angel in your time of tribulation.

“Excuse me,” the (welcome) intruder says, voice quiet but clear even amidst the cacophonous music and chatter. Min Yoongi steps forward until he is to your right, and you don’t miss the way his shoulder “accidentally” bumps your manager hard enough for him to drop his hand from your back. When Yoongi smiles at your manager, it is all teeth and no mirth, his eyes carefully blank.

Thankfully, your manager isn’t quite as fortunate in his brains department as he is in his stomach. “Oh, Yoongi! It is so nice to finally see you attend one of our social functions. You are enjoying yourself, I hope?” your manager asks, guffawing loudly despite no joke being said. You never did quite understand how some men think they are the most hilarious thing to ever exist since clowns, though you suppose your manager was only missing the red nose to complete the look.

“Thrilled, Mister Lee. Absolutely thrilled,” Yoongi says in a dead monotone voice. You can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm, and Yoongi points a wicked grin back at you before returning to his neutral and passive “work” face.

The sarcasm flies over your managers head like you expected, though you can hardly blame the alcohol for his lack of cognizance. You wouldn’t be half surprised if you knocked lightly on his head, only to hear a resounding echo following thereafter.

“I have never seen you at any of our parties before, Yoongi. What’s with the sudden change of heart?” your manager asks.

“Sir, I’ve attended every single social gathering since I was hired,” Yoongi says plainly, his composure never faltering. He must have better control than you, because you’re sure you would’ve barely held yourself back from smacking your manager had it been you. Though in fairness, you aren’t sure if you’ve ever noticed Yoongi at any of the other parties before this one either.

“Oh really? Well then, you mustn’t have said hello before then!” your manager laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder. “Always so enigmatic, our dear Yoongi! Well, keep up the good work.” When your manager turns his attention to speak to another one of your poor coworkers, Yoongi visibly gags from behind your manager’s back, grimacing as he pats away all traces of that foul man’s hand germs away from his dress shirt.

“Gross. Now my sleeve is damp,” he mutters, just audible enough so that only you could hear. You laugh out loud at that, nodding in understanding.

“Same here. There’s probably a gross sweaty handprint on my back now,” you say, wincing when you do feel a noticeable damp spot near the small of your back. “Ugh, what a pig.”

“Tell me about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, making a move to get away from your awful manager. He gestures for you to follow him, and you are more than happy to oblige.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way,” you add, keeping in step with him. He leads you out of the disorienting ballroom, though he doesn’t head towards the exit like you had expected. He appears to know the building much more than you do, given by how assuredly he walks. Either that, or he could be leading you to a deadend, but confidently.

“No problem. You honestly looked like you were about to punt him across the room, though I doubt anyone would be opposed to that magnificent spectacle,” Yoongi jokes, same mischievous grin from before decorating his face. He is so different from the taciturn man you had met two weeks ago, back when he had half-hidden behind his desk like an animal being cornered. Though, that might not be the best analogy to think of, as it only painted you as some sort of predator who came after meek and soft-looking men. Which you aren’t. Hopefully.

“Oh, I would’ve done more than just that, so really he should be thanking you for saving him,” you snort, and Yoongi chuckles lightly in response. Like before, his laughter is just as pleasant as you remember. Your greedy heart yearns to elicit the same sound from him once more, for as many times as you can muster before the night ends.

You had been so immersed in trying to keep up with his quick strides that you don’t notice where exactly he has taken you. The two of you haven’t gone too far away from the ballroom before he stops right in front of a metal double door, the neon green exit sign about it glowing conspicuously in the otherwise dimly lit corridor. He pushes it open, allowing the cool evening air to blow across you and your hand-me-down dress.

“Are we… at the balcony?” you ask, though the view that greets you is answer enough. How Yoongi could have known where the balcony is, you can’t say for certain. But any sort of question dies on your lips when you see how beautiful the skyline is: the stars and city lights twinkling indiscriminately, the sound of nightlife and traffic sounding loud despite the streets being so far away, the smell of ozone signalling an oncoming storm.

This, of course, is what you imagine the view to be like. You know, if the ever reliable Seoul smog wasn’t there to obstruct any sort of magical, romantic view that you should have been privy to.

“Oh damn. I forgot the smog forecast today was especially bad,” Yoongi groans from beside you, quickly shuffling through his pant pockets for a face mask. He procurs two black masks, still in their plastic packaging, and hands one of them to you. “Jesus. Sorry about this. Didn’t expect the smog to be so bad… We can just go back inside, if you want?”

Then, you are reminded of your manager, who is basically pollution incarnate with how terrible his breath is. So, you accept Yoongi’s proffered mask and promptly put it on. “Yeah, no thanks,” you say, voice muffled slightly by the fabric. The implication of your acceptance makes Yoongi grin cheekily back at you (or so you think, guessing by how his eyes crinkle cutely above his mask.)

Now properly equipped to not inhale disgusting air matter into your lungs, you step out farther across the balcony, enjoying the way the cool night breeze feels against your alcohol flushed face. (Though, if you were being honest, the heat on your cheeks has less to do with the meager flute of champagne you had earlier and more to do with the company you currently find yourself with.)

“I fucking hate these company dinners,” you whine a little bit too petulantly, complete with the jutted lip of a child who has been forced to wait as her mother engages in an eternity long conversation with an acquaintance. You lean against the railings near the edge of the building, watching idly as Yoongi does the same. “Don’t you think that if they wanted us to get ‘closer’ with one another, they’d first want to address the fact that some of our coworkers happen to be pigs dressed in white collared shirts?”

Yoongi snorts at that, his right hand immediately coming up to his mouth to silence the unflattering sound. Not that it wasn’t completely charming to you, but you do enjoy the slight abashment that blooms across his face shortly thereafter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh like that. But, I do agree with you… I can’t say that anyone in our department is especially fond of that Habsburg motherfucker.”

Maybe it was the little bit of alcohol in your system, or perhaps it was the sudden rush of realizing that Yoongi is strangely attractive when he swears, but the laugh that exits your mouth sounds a touch too crazed for your liking. Either that, or perhaps you’re finally dying from the pollution.

Luckily for the both of you, it seems that Yoongi likes your weird laugh just as much as you like his. He tries to hide a smile before continuing, “Like, come on! I’m sorry for saying that because attacks on physical appearance is always a low blow, but why the fuck does that dude look like he’s been compressed and flattened on Photoshop? He’s got perpetual flat-face syndrome. You could -  you could land a damn plane on his face or some shit.”

The cork inside of your bursts, and you let out the most ungodly guffaw in your life. You don’t even have the time to be embarrassed by how loud your howls are, not when every word he says hits the mark a little bit too close to home. There’s nothing quite as pleasing than sharing mutual dislike for the same person, and it fills you with the utmost glee that Yoongi is no exception to that rule.

“Oh god… You’re right. You are absolutely right. I seriously can’t believe anyone can put up with him. I mean, the damned bastard couldn’t even remember my name until two weeks ago,” you say, shaking your head in disgust. The first few times he had forgotten, you had been gracious enough to laugh away his mistakes as little more than that: mistakes. But when five years pass and peanuts-for-a-brain still hasn’t deemed that remembering your name to be as important as when the “next big Game™” is, then it’s easy to understand the depth of your resentment towards your manager.

“Are you for real?” Yoongi asks, brows raised in shock. “How could anyone ever forget you – I mean, shit, uh,” Yoongi coughs suddenly, red-faced. You tilt your head in confusion, waiting for him to finish. He’s still kind of spluttering when he continues, “What I meant to say is… H-how could anyone forget their employees name after working here for so long?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I have no idea. Honestly, I think he’s trying to purposefully forget everything I tell him. One time, he had asked me what plans I had for Christmas, and I mentioned to him how I was going to be visiting my parents back home, and he has the gall to ask what country I’m from. Like???” Your face contorts as if you had eaten an entire lemon, so wracked with disbelief that Yoongi can see the hypothetical question marks floating above your head. “Bitch, do I look foreign to that bastard? I’ve lived here all my life!”

Yoongi hums, thoughtful. “Your parents live just an hour away from here, right?”

“I… Yeah, they do,” you reply. You eye Yoongi curiously, watching his all-too familiar flush resurfacing on his neck once more. “Wait… How do you know that?”

“You… You were talking about them, once. To Seulgi? Yea, you were, um…” Yoongi coughs unassuredly, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous tick of his, you suppose. “It was a year ago? Something about visiting them during the weekend… Not that I was eavesdropping on purpose! I would never, er, do that…”

You don’t even register his embarrassment as you are mostly shell shocked that he had even remembered that little tidbit from over a year ago. Hell, you didn’t even remember going to your parent’s house until he mentioned it. “No it’s fine, I get it. I’m just surprised that you even bothered to remember that.”

Now it’s his turn to look at you strangely. “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”

You stare at him in disbelief. Fluttering of wings begin to erupt in your stomach, but you hardly have the peace of mind to fully grasp why you were even feeling so flustered in the first place. It was just that he had said it so… matter-of-fact, like there was no possible way he could’ve forgotten even if he tried. It was kind of disconcerting, but flattering all the same. But more importantly--

“Wait, you’ve been working at the company since last year? How have I never seen you before this month?!”

“Oh,” Yoongi coughs out a laugh, scratching the end of his nose. He turns his gaze away, looking anywhere but you. “I was just, umm… Really quiet? I don’t really talk to anyone unless I need to. I’m more of a listener.”

“Oh my God, now I feel even more terrible for not knowing your name! I must look like an egotistic bitch to you,” you despair lowly, cupping your face into your hands in shame. You feel another pair of cold hands clasp your wrists, and you watch in shock as he pulls your palms away with a determined expression.

“What? Of course not. You are definitely not an egotistic bitch, Y/N. In fact, you’re the complete opposite,” Yoongi whispers, so quiet that you might have imagined it. He grasps your hands tightly, like he’s desperate for you to believe him.

You stammer in embarrassment, staring wide-eyed at Yoongi as you try to regrasp your comprehension skills. It’s especially hard to concentrate with how close Yoongi is to you, the latter unaware of his own proximity. He had stepped closer towards you to hold your hand, and normally you hated it when people touched you without permission, but somehow… This was alright.

(Unbeknownst to you, this will not be the first time that Yoongi becomes your secret little exception. It’s only the first of many.)

“I-I don’t really know what to say?” Your gaze is locked on his firm grip on your hands, the only thing flitting through your mind: damn, this dude’s hands really are fucking freezing!

It takes another few seconds for Yoongi to calm down, and you know when it happens because the realization of what he had said makes itself apparent on his expression. He turns beet red in a second, stepping away from you with his arms flying off of you like those inflatable tube men outside car dealerships.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, taking two steps away from you. You almost take two steps forward to keep the distance closer, but you have a feeling that he would keep walking away from you until you both inevitably fall off the balcony, so you smartly choose to stay away (even if it pains you to do so). You wait for his breathing to settle, all the while still reeling from his blatant confession just moments ago.

Could you even consider it a confession? Were you being delulu, or is there some sort of connection that you and Yoongi were both feeling?

“Yoongi, it’s fine! Really,” you smile wryly, raising your hands towards him open-faced, much like how you would do when approaching an agitated animal. Like a nervous kitty, you think privately to yourself. “I’m really flattered that you feel so… strongly?”

“I’m… I’m really not like this normally. Honest,” Yoongi says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I… I never… do that. Whatever that was. Umm.”

Because you’re a freak of nature and enjoy exacerbating awkward social interactions, you decide to respond to him like this: “No worries, I’m flattered, honest! But hey, maybe next time you try to give me a compliment, you could look me in the eye?” You know, like an asshole. Who points out people’s social anxieties like that? You bitch!

On cue, Yoongi’s cheeks bloom into cherry blossoms once more. “I––I, I didn’t mean to––uh!” he stammers.

“No, no, I’m sorry for even saying that!” You apologize profusely, bowing so low that he could probably see the top of your spine. “I didn’t mean to tease you like that! I’m sorry! That was seriously out of line!”

What a pair the two of you were… Like two trains crashing into each other at mach speed, continuously and eternally. A constant and ongoing catastrophe!

(The little gremlin living inside your brain is knocking at your empty skull, whispering deviously, “But doesn’t that make the two of you the perfect pair?”)

When he doesn’t respond back immediately, you have to wrack up enough courage to look back at him. You gasp audibly when you do, and you have to forcibly grip the insides of your bicep to keep yourself from squealing in pure anguish.

Because there, right before your very eyes, is a blushing Min Yoongi looking you straight in the eye with his face squished between his hands, as if he’s forcibly keeping his head locked in place. His pupils are noticeably shaking and his brows are furrowed in concentration, but he’s looking at you. Like you asked.

He’s… He’s too…

“Okay, let me try this again.” Yoongi takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what may be the most embarrassing thing he has ever done in his life. “Y… You’re a great person, Y/N. I hope you know that,” he whispers, voice trailing off by the end of his sentence.

He’s dry heaving like he’s just finished a marathon, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You’re worried if he even remembers how to blink with how intensely he’s staring you down, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him when your heart is quite literally beating out of your chest like a cartoon character from the 80’s.

“I…” You’re at a loss of words. If Min Yoongi can capture you like this with just a look, then think of how much more powerful he would be if he just learned how to use it. You’re slipping into real dangerous waters, and you don’t know if you’re just a frog in boiling water or if this is where you were meant to be all along.

“Yoongi, I didn’t mean for you to… force yourself like that, really…”

The moment breaks, finally, when Yoongi begins to cry.

“Shit!” you both exclaim, but for two different reasons. “Are you okay? Oh my god!” you reach out for him, not even thinking when you cup his cheeks in your hands. He gently pushes you away with one hand, while the other goes to scrub at his tears.

“Yes, I’m fine! A piece of dust got caught in my eye and I was too slow to blink it away,” he explains, still wiping at his cheeks. He pulls his mask down to his chin, pouting cutely at you. “Sorry. I’m not used to looking people in the eye yet. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Oh my god. At this point, you’d be surprised if your heart was located anywhere near your body. You were running purely on autopilot, so enamored by the boy in front of you that you could almost faint. He was entirely too unreal, unbelievably so. Perhaps, if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to find your heart again, and you know the first place where you’d look.

“Give it back,” you mumble, and Yoongi tilts his head at you in confusion.

“Sorry? Did you say something?”

“Nothing,” you reply, reaching over him and snapping his mask back on his face. You laugh as he splutters in surprise, floundering about overdramatically as if the elastic on the mask had done any damage to him at all. “Oh, stop it. You’re just being silly now.”

“Hey, I have delicate skin! You never know,” he jokes, but stops when you give him an unimpressed look.

“Sorry,” he laughs again. “And well, since I keep saying sorry today, and you look like you could use a little warming up, do you wanna leave this place and get some coffee? My treat.”

And really, who were you to say no to that?

And really, who were you to say no to Min Yoongi?

x x x x x

There is a boy you know who likes to show his thoughtfulness quietly. It would go something like this:

A steaming hot coffee cup from the nearby cafe manifests itself on your desk one Monday morning. In your sleep-deprived haze, you had originally failed to realize that there was a hand connected to that cup and that it hadn’t actually just materialized from thin air like you had thought. After much blinking and staring, you crane your head up to see Jesus standing in front of you, his glasses still fogged from the outside chill.

“I got you a drink. I hope I remembered your order right,” Yoongi says in lieu of a greeting, a small smile gracing his lips as he watches you lethargically reach over for the cup to lift the lid open. His grin widens when he sees your eyes light up at the sight of little marshmallows bobbing up and down in your hot chocolate, bits of whipped cream already melting away from the heat. When you take a sip, you breathe a content sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut.

“Yoongi, I’m going to kiss your feet right now and you can’t stop me,” you say, upper lip lined with cream and sugar. Yoongi’s hand twitches by his side, but he doesn’t move.

“Even if I have toe fungus?”

“Especially if you have toe fungus,” you say, downing as much hot chocolate down your throat without choking and barfing all over him.

From the rim of your cup, you can see that Yoongi still has his parka on, his signature black mask pulled down his chin indicating that he’s only just arrived at the office. It makes your heart jump a little, knowing that he went straight to you first before anyone else that day.

“I still don’t understand how you hate coffee. Like, I don’t think I’d be able to be conversing with you right now if I didn’t have caffeine running through my veins,” he says, staring at you(r lips) as you chew a marshmallow thoughtfully.

You want to tell him that Yoongi doesn’t talk a lot anyway in the first place, though you have begun to notice that he’s becoming more talkative the more you hang out with him. However, you aren’t quite sure if you’re imagining it, but it seems like Yoongi’s change in personality doesn’t really apply when he’s with anyone else. On the days where you’d pass by his cubicle on the way to the water coolers, he’d still have his usual stoic expression on his face as he goes through his paperwork with the grace of a robot. When he’s with you, however…

“Says the guy who’s started drinking frappes after I suggested them to you. Don’t lie to me, Min Yoongi.” You’re giggling softly, and you can tell Yoongi’s seams are already breaking. Pink gums and straight teeth are seconds away from peaking through. You wink cheekily at him.  “You’re just as sweet as your personality is.”

“Stop, that’s so embarrassing!” he exclaims, hiding behind his hands. He’s already smiling. “I’m not as sweet as you think! I’m a mean guy!”

“Yoongi, you literally just bought me hot chocolate with marshmallows because you remembered what I like. I don’t think there’s a mean bone in your body,” you retort, rolling your eyes at the prominent pout on his face.

“Not true! I stole an extra coupon booklet when I was at the grocery store the other day.”

“Ooooh, I do love a bad boy,” you say, but the two of you are already laughing hysterically. “Seriously, thanks. I really needed this today.”

“Dang, bad morning already?” he winces, having noticed the purple moons under your eyes when he had approached you. He didn’t want to mention it without you bringing it up first, but he had been worried about you since last Friday when you had left the workplace with a slammed door.

“Try bad weekend. Mr. Lee has been pushing my buttons for months now, but I seriously didn’t think he thought it was a challenge. He’s been giving me shitty filing jobs to complete like I’m some overworked intern!”

Yoongi cocks his head, confused. “Aren’t you, like… In the advertising department? Why would he make you file things?”

“Exactly!” You’re all but roaring now, but Yoongi can’t help smirking at the stray dollop of whipped cream that had somehow found its way on your nose. He pulls his sleeve over his wrist, swiping it away with the fabric as nonchalantly as possible (which is to say, he’s as red as a spanked ass when he does it.)

You don’t even notice his actions, still deep in the abyss of your rage. “And also! My shitty phone ran out of storage space the other day so I’ve had to delete all the songs on my library and I can’t find any good playlists on Spotify to help me dissociate on the train!”

“Wow, that’s a mood,” Yoongi says, chuckling. He clears his throat, an idea popping into his head. He turns bashful all of a sudden, gaze diverting upwards as he musters the courage to say, “I-I mean, I think I can help you with that last problem, if you want…”

You stop huffing and puffing long enough to appear intrigued. “Oh? Are you gonna send me a playlist?”

Yoongi splutters. “I mean! If you want it, I do have some songs that I like listening to.”

Yoongi squeaks when you smile at that, radiant and all-encompassing. He wonders how he’s not dead right now.

“Oh god, that would be great actually! Text me the link, would you?” you say, already making grabby hands for his phone. “Here, lemme put my phone number in your phone.”

Yoongi almost drops his phone as he takes it out of his pocket, staring in awe as he watches you type in your number into his phone. He has to keep himself from outright howling when he sees you place a sunflower emoji beside your name. How fitting, he thinks to himself.

When you return the phone back to him, he immediately texts you the link to his playlist. You have to keep yourself from screaming to the heavens when you see the very Yoongi-esque title, “Songs for the Sleepless,” complete with the grainy-noir-film-type playlist art to complete the look. It was just so… personal, so Yoongi, and it’s making you clench organs that you didn’t know were clenchable.

You whistle at the sheer number of songs on the playlist, with the first song being—“Didn’t peg you as a Lana Del Rey fan,” you pipe up, scrolling through his playlist with acute interest. “Kendrick Lamar and Epik High, I understand. But Lana?”

To his credit, the playlist did seem like it had a narrative of sorts, despite the eclectic range of artists and genres. You only recognize maybe ten of the songs from his five hundred song playlist, and you’re very curious to see what type of songs he connects to.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he shrugs his shoulders, though a little bit embarrassed. “Lana Del Rey could sing my obituary and I’d jump out of my grave in an instant.”

“Bit morbid but okay,” you laugh, finger ready to close your music player app when you catch sight of a song with an artist you didn’t expect to see. You reach over to tug on his sleeve, your sly smile already causing Yoongi to break out in hives. “Hey… I didn’t know you shared your name with a singer, unless, of course…”

Yoongi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when he yelps in surprise, snatching your phone out of your grip as his eyes bug out of his sockets. His ears redden, words tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall as he tries to explain himself despite your raucous giggling.

“I––You weren’t supposed to––I forgot about! That was––I was just––Ugh,” he groans despairingly, smacking himself in the forehead with your phone. You’re still giggling madly, enjoying the spectacle before you as Yoongi’s ears are practically shooting out steam.

“You’re so cute.” It slips out of your mouth with such ease that you almost don’t notice saying it at all; you’re still smiling dreamily at Yoongi as he stares at you in shock, mouth still agape from his earlier rambling. You gasp loudly when your brain cells finally catch up, but by then it’s already too late. Now, the two of you were a matching pair, with your fire engine red ears standing at attention.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said that,” you mutter into your hands. You wish the earth would swallow you whole right now.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that,” Yoongi wails beside you, but you don’t notice the small satisfied smile he’s sporting on his reddened face. “Y-You can’t just say things and not expect me to…”

You look up, wondering why he’d suddenly trailed off at the end. “Expect you to what?”

Yoongi, once again, defies the laws of the universe by somehow turning even redder than humanly possible. “N-nothing. Ignore me. Let’s just admit we’re both embarrassing and carry on, can we?”

“Sure,” you agree, nodding enthusiastically. “But, does that mean I can listen to your songs, Mister Min ‘I’m-a-superstar-singer-in-my-spare-time’ Yoongi?”

“I’m not a superstar! I just record songs in my free time, that’s all,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Says the guy who apparently raps as a hobby! Seriously, I can tell I’m gonna love it already.”

His gaze is turned upwards, cheeks puffed up in embarrassment. He looks like he wants to say something else, however, and you wait for him as he tries to gather the courage to say what else is on his mind. “S-say, I was wondering… Since I’m already here and all, do you want to maybe go out wi—”

“Yo! Hyung!”

A deep voice from across the office floor snaps the two of you out of your little bubble in an instant. It doesn’t take a genius to tell who it is, not when there’s only one person in the entire company who would dare wear a sushi-print tie to work at one of the most lucrative companies in the country.

Kim Namjoon hobbles over to your little cubicle space in all his sushi-print tie glory, knocking over a coworker’s potted plant in the process. Between you and Yoongi, you had been more surprised by Namjoon’s sudden exclamation, mostly because you’d never been particularly close with the eccentric man. Yoongi probably can’t say the same since he had briefly mentioned that he and Namjoon go way back, though you’re starting to have some doubts about that due to the dirty glare Yoongi was currently pointing at the sentient noodles-for-legs.

Namjoon waves cheerily at you before cutting to the chase as he envelops Yoongi in a not-too-gentle hug. “Hyung! I’ve been looking for you. You weren’t at your desk this morning so I was wondering where you’d wandered off, but of course I’d find you here at Y/N’s de––”

Yoongi promptly stomps on Namjoon’s feet, causing the younger to yelp out in pain. “Namjoon. I told you I’d talk to you later.” Yoongi smiles sweetly, but you can see the aura of danger radiating off of him in waves. “Emphasis on later.”

Namjoon pouts petulantly, but he doesn’t look all that offended. “I was just gonna remind you to ask Y/N if she wanted to join us for lunch la––OUCH! WILL YOU STOP STEPPING ON MY FEET!”

Yoongi appears unbothered, not even looking back at Namjoon’s shouts of betrayal. All the while, he still has his gaze trained on you, never wavering for one second.

“Please ignore my colleague. He can a bit… Unnecessarily loud,” Yoongi says, accompanied by Namjoon’s splutters of indignation.

“Umm?? I’m right here?? Your actual best friend?? Geez!” Namjoon huffs, looking at the both of you incredulously. You just shrug your shoulders, completely dumbfounded by the last five minutes of human interaction.

“As Namjoon was saying before we were so rudely interrupted… I was going to ask if you wanted to have lunch with me? Namjoon can join too, but only if he behaves,” Yoongi jokes, smirking at Namjoon’s ireful glares.

You giggle quietly at the unlikely pair, amused beyond belief at this new side of Yoongi that you hadn’t been aware of. So this is how he is with his friends… Cocky Yoongi is definitely someone you wouldn’t mind talking to occasionally, you admit.

“Sure, I’d love to. Just let me finish all this filing crap for Mr. Lee, then I’ll head over to your desk at around 12?” If you work at a breakneck pace, then you could probably finish sooner if you didn’t let anything else distract you. “Oh! And I should probably return your umbrella before you leave. I keep forgetting to give it back to you.”

“No worries,” Yoongi says. “You should keep the umbrella. I’ve got a spare anyway.”

Namjoon’s head whips toward Yoongi at that, staring at him skeptically. “Dude. Ain’t that your favorite Kumamon umbrella though? Didn’t you almost murder me that one time I forgot it at the McDonald’s last mo––WILL YOU STOP STEPPING ON MY FEET! I’M GONNA GET FLATFOOT SYNDROME!”

“Not my problem,” Yoongi replies, pinching Namjoon’s nose for good measure. He turns to you, waving goodbye. “See you in a few?”

You stretch your back, psyching yourself up to get back to work. “Right. I’ll text you when I’m done okay? See you at 12-ish!”

The boys make their leave, bickering all the while. You catch wind of a bit of their conversation as they turn the corner, their voices echoing down the hall.

“Hey, I noticed that you were looking Y/N in the eye when you were speaking. Why don’t you ever look me in the eye when we talk!”

Yoongi snorts, flipping him off. “It’s because you’re not as nice to look at. Simple as that.”

In your seat, you smile secretly to yourself, butterflies erupting in your chest. Filled with newly found fervor, you chip away at the pile of work on your desk until it starts to vanish from view.

Before you know it, you’re off to see Yoongi once more.

x x x x x 

There is a boy you know who likes to show his vulnerability quietly. It would go something like this:

x x x x x 

There is a boy you know who likes to show his love quietly. It would go something like this:

Your day begins with a phone call: a warning. Your boss tells you to come into work as soon as possible, not a note of enthusiasm or friendliness in his tone. He ends the call just as abruptly as it had come, the silence following soon after deafening your ears. Your heart races marathons in your chest, and your brain goes to the worst place it can go.

Your hands are sweating gallons upon gallons as you shrug your coat on, fumbling with your keys as you struggle to place them in your pocket. For a brief moment, you think about calling Yoongi for moral support, but think better of it. You don’t want to bother anyone, especially not him.

You, the lone ranger, walk out of your apartment and into the murky urban outdoors, the first pitter-patters of rain making their descent the moment your foot meets the pavement. You don’t have quite the energy to go back inside to grab your umbrella, not when you’re unsure if you’ll be courageous enough to leave your bedroom once more if you did.

You’d always been a coward, a soft-hearted fool. Content with shouldering the consequences of your actions without another word: a sufferer in silence. For the past few weeks, you thought you might have changed. You’d been smiling a lot more, laughing a lot more. Your cheeks were often more red than any other color these days, and it was all thanks to a boy you know.

He was shy, but brave. Quiet, but talkative. Mysterious, but vulnerable.

He made you realize that there was no need to settle for one side of a coin, not when you could have both. The longer you stuck around him, the stronger your desire was to become… more.

You wanted to be open; you wanted to be known. You wanted to be able to ask for what you want, and never feel the crushing sense of guilt that usually came afterwards. You wanted to be unapologetic, wanted to keep your hands open, waiting for good things to come your way. To never cower in the face of a gift being handed to you. You wanted to have all that life has to offer––

(Him. Him. Him.)

But there is something pitiful about being unable to keep your own promises. The embarrassment of returning to the state where you once were, of turning meek at the first sign of adversity. The dreams of a happier life drifts away from you like mist under the morning sun, and the pressing weight of the world once again makes its home on your shoulders.

And so, you do not cry when your boss tells you to pack up your things within the hour.

You do not cry when you cut your finger on the corner of your desk that had never been replaced during your five-year stay at this company.

You do not cry when one of your potted plants smash to the floor when you try to carry too many things at once.

You do not cry when co-workers you’d only barely spoken to come over to your desk with showers of condolences, as if you’d already died.

You do not cry when Kim Namjoon walks over to you, quietly bending down to help you carry your boxes down to the lobby.

And when all is said and done, you most especially do not cry when Min Yoongi runs to you with his lungs burning in his chest, glasses still fogged up from the morning cold outside. His hair is in disarray and his shirt is on backwards, as if he’d jumped out of bed the moment he knew something was wrong. When he skids to a halt right in front of you, the pain etched on his face is as plain as day.

Wordlessly, he takes the last box out of your hands, placing his car keys on top when he can’t hold onto them both. His eyes flit towards your clenched fists for a second, but looks away the moment you notice. Instead, he walks out to the elevator, and you follow soon after.

You do not cry when Min Yoongi helps you load his car with your things. You do not cry when he takes a first-aid kit out of his glovebox and puts a band-aid on your finger. You do not cry when he offers to pass by the local home depot to pick up a new plant when he notices yours is gone. You do not cry when he doesn’t treat you like your life has ended.

(But you feel it. Pricking along your eyes like a dam about to break. He is doing this to you. He’s making you feel again, and it fucking hurts.)

And so, he drives you home.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Yoongi starts after a while, tapping a rhythm away on his steering wheel as he waits for the morning rush traffic to subside. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, worried when you don’t respond. You keep your head pressed against the cool car window, staring blankly at the gray skyline.

“I… I hope you don’t mind if I play you something. Just… Just listen to it, okay?”

You don’t see him, but you hear his fingers switch their tapping to his phone as he unlocks it, searching for the song he wants you to hear. It takes a moment or two for him to find it, soft curses tumbling from his lips as he goes through his Google Drive for the unfinished draft that he hadn’t meant to show you until it was complete, but well––

You were always an exception to him, weren’t you?

The first notes come creeping up from behind you, and it reminds you of the way Yoongi would speak to you. All soft whispers and gummy smiles, like he’s restraining himself. Slowly but surely, the music grows louder, more confident with its sound. You can picture Yoongi standing upright, hand outstretched towards you as he asks you to follow him.

The song is unfamiliar, but there’s something about it that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention. You’re trying to go through your memories, sorting through the hundreds of songs that Yoongi has made you listen to but none of them seem to ring a bell. You’re still trying to figure out if you’d heard this before when the lyrics finally start.

“Lost in the sea of my regrets, you became my polaris.”

Yoongi’s voice comes from the radio speaker, jolting you from your seat. Your spine straightens, and you stare bullets at Yoongi’s phone as the song continues to play. When you look towards him, Yoongi’s face is a statue; the only thing giving away the fact that he was with you at all was the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“The shadows, which had been my haven, no longer feel as good as they once did. You, my light, have changed all of that.”

You gasp, and Yoongi’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. It seems like the two of you stop moving at that moment, neither of you daring to breathe. Even the outside traffic sounds muted compared to the sound of your hearts hammering inside your chests.

“I’ve long since forgotten to pray, but I will remember for you. I only dream of happiness for you, my morning light, my northern star. And I’d give it all up for you.”

Yoongi notices your tears fall before you even do; he’s quick to fluster, scrambling through his car side door for a tissue to hand to you, but he stops the moment he feels your hand fist the elbow of his sleeve. He turns to look at you, all blotchy and tear-stained, but beautiful all the same. And even through your tears, you smile just as radiantly as when he had first seen you.

“Thank you,” you mouth, fingers trembling as you fight to keep more tears from falling, but nothing can stop a dam from breaking. Not when you’re sitting beside the hurricane who broke it in the first place; it was the boy with feelings that never did quite fit in his body the way other people’s did.

Luckily, they fit right in with you.

When the song comes to the end, you’re sniffling up a storm, but you still haven’t let go of him. When you’re only a few minutes away from your apartment, Yoongi parks a little bit far off from your doorstep, so you have to walk the rest of the way home. But you’re still unwilling to let go, not yet.

Gently, Yoongi pries your hand away from his sleeve and you’re about to protest, but the words die on your lips the moment they form when Yoongi rubs his hands along the side of his slacks before placing them in yours. His hands are still cold, but comforting all the same.

“Let me walk you home?” he whispers.

You nod. Of course, you want to say. But he knows what you mean, anyway.

When he goes to unpack your things from the trunk, you shake your head, stopping him from moving any further. “I… I don’t feel like sorting through those things right now. Is it fine with you if I just… Go home for now? Please?” Your brain feels like lead in your skull after all the bottled up tears had finally escaped from years of constant pressure, and you don’t think you’re quite ready to go through all those emotions again. You feel deflated, but better. He always makes you feel better.

Yoongi closes the trunk, locking his car before stretching out his hands for you. You stare at the proffered hand for a moment.

“Oh, right.” Yoongi goes to rub his hands to warm them, but you stop him once more in his ministrations. He looks at you, confused, as you grab his hand from him. You rub circles into his palm, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

“You’re always warming your hands for me… So this time, I’ll warm them for you, okay?”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything in response to that. Instead, he tugs you along towards the sidewalk and keeps you close to him. As he walks with you, you notice the way he leans slightly to the left, like he’s drawn to you––like he can’t help be more than an inch further from you.

You keep glancing back down at your linked hands; he’s shaking, but then again, that could also be you.

You arrive at the gate of your apartment quicker than you would have liked. Neither of you move to separate; when you look back at Yoongi, you see that his eyes are trained on you. He doesn’t even flinch away like he used to. His lips are pursed, like he wants to say something but he’s still too afraid to.

So you say it for him instead.

“Do you have… somewhere to be?” Unlike you, he still has a job. He still has commitments. He still has a life outside of you. You’re hit with fear, once again, at the sudden change in your circumstances.

You might never get to see him again. Is this where your paths cross, never to intersect again? Your stomach drops at the thought, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“No, I don’t. I could…” Yoongi trails off, glancing at your apartment with soft hesitance. “If… If you want me to…”

Yes. Please. I’d love it. I love yo–– ”Yes. Stay with me?” you mumble.

“Always,” he promises.

The pair of you trudge up to your apartment, passing by the prying eyes of housewives with your heads bowed in embarrassment. They don’t miss your pinkies linked behind your backs, nor the subtle blushes on the apples of your cheeks. Thankfully, they don’t comment when Yoongi enters your apartment after you, but they do giggle when his coat gets caught on the door handle in his rush.

When the two of you are finally alone, the air isn’t as awkward as you had feared. You work like two cogs in a machine; he readies your TV and scrolls through your Netflix for a movie, while you go to your kitchen and have a small mental breakdown (while also microwaving some popcorn). Soon, the two of you are snuggled into your small couch, elbows barely brushing against each other.

You’re only half paying attention to the generic action movie that Yoongi had put on; you were still deep in your thoughts. You’re picking away at your hangnail, worrying your lip as you try to enjoy what might be the last time you’ll ever get to hang out with Yoongi again. You’re so deep in your musings that you don’t immediately feel when Yoongi wraps his arms around your shoulder, nestling your head into his chest.

“W… What?” You crane your head and stare at Yoongi in shock, but he’s already returned his attention back to the movie. His cheeks are burning.

You’re still stiff with tension despite his comforting caresses against your hair, so he changes tactics and brings your hand up to his.

You think he’s just going to hold your hand, but he keeps bringing your hand up until it gently caresses his face. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he curls your fingers until only your pointer is left unfurled, and casually uses it to poke himself in the cheek.

He leaves it there for a second or two, and when you finally turn to face him, he’s smiling so sweetly at you that you almost feel compelled to cry again. His eyes and nose are all scrunched up, rose petal gums on full display. Your finger is still pressed gently into his soft cheeks.

“You said you liked to dream about poking my bread cheeks. Well, here’s your chance,” he says, like it’s nothing at all. As if what he has done was as simple as breathing.

Yoongi’s smile brightens when he feels your form relax against him, giggling softly when you go to pinch his cheek for good measure.

“Bread cheekies,” you say, like you’re in a trance.

Yoongi nods. “Bread cheekies,” he repeats. “And it’s all yours.”

There’s a promise in there, you know. Somehow, he had sensed your worry and had thought of the perfect way to calm you. Like always, he never has to say it. He’s never needed words, anyway.

The two of you stay like that for hours. The sun sets as surely as the moon rises, and Min Yoongi stays with you through the night. When your mind drifts off and only your steady breathing fills the room, Min Yoongi brushes a small kiss against your forehead.

“Dream of happiness, my love,” he whispers into your skin, just when he thinks you’re asleep, “I’ll dream of you, too.”

It’s a promise that he keeps.

There is a boy you know who never learned how to say he loves you, but it never mattered all that much to you––not when he’s willing to show you over and over again. It goes something like this––

#btsboulangerie #btsguild #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts fluff #coworker!au #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #yoongi fluff #bts suga #bangtan #bts fanfic

[mikeshanlon]

i really enjoy the way young royals explores the theme of legacy and how detrimental it can be to have to live up to a legacy or be obsessed with reputation. (analysis and thoughts under the cut)

i think wilhelm resents the fact that he has to live up to the role of being in the royal family and yet is very afraid of ruining that legacy bc of all the pressure. before he was sent off to hillerska he went to a normal school and wanted normal people around him and was content with erik having to take on the responsibilities of crown prince. and when he does have to assume that role he says he can never be erik, that he’s always had to be compared to him and obviously doesn’t like that. but even before erik passed and he had to take on those duties he was afraid of fucking up the legacy of the crown, when he sees that sign in the hallway that says you are in charge of your own legacy after he holds hands with simon, his anxiety worsens. you can tell it’s been instilled in him for a long time that what is most important is the crown’s reputation rather than his own wants. in the scene where him and simon fight about alexander being caught, he obviously wants simon to stay, but he focuses on how him doing drugs will fuck up his family’s reputation if it gets leaked. as much as he cares for simon, his legacy and his duties are like this oppressive cloud hanging over him. 

i do think that wille cares for his family of course but to me it’s different that the sort of loyal unconditional care with simon and his sister/mom. erik and wille had unconditional love, erik understood how difficult being a prince in the public eye was, and wille obviously cared for him deeply and felt like he could to talk to him about issues. his relationship with the queen is much more strained, she wants a tailored, doctored representation of him in the media, he cannot be anxious and bite his nails, she makes all the decisions for him. family is important to wille partially because it has to be bc of how special his family is. he helps his family, he helps august pay his tuition, and then makes a point of disowning august after his betrayal as his new “brother”. but again, because of the royal status and expectations upon the family, that supersedes and colors all of their relationships with each other. it seems to be more a sense of “duty” than unconditional love. especially after erik’s death, wille always has to consider how the crown’s image will be impacted, even though he never wanted to have this responsibility, or even the responsibility of being the “regular” prince under erik. being a family unit that is under constant public scrutiny is going to strain relationships. the queen knows that the anxiety of fucking up his legacy will get to him, and she uses that to get wilhelm to back out of admitting it was him in the video and coming out. wilhelm has to choose between his own happiness and their reputation, is forced to think that denying it’s him in the video is the only way. he loves simon and wanted to live freely, but that pressure of legacy won out.

i don’t know if i think wille necessarily values the crown over his own personal happiness and relationships, like in the way maybe the queen does--i don’t think it comes from a place of “i’m lucky to be prince and owe my duty to the crown, so i do what i have to do to stay that way” (like how the queen said the crown is a privilege not a punishment), but from fear of destroying the legacy and his family. afterall, he still wanted to pursue a secret relationship with simon, i think if he fully valued the crown and uplifting legacy and fulfilling his duties he wouldn’t have tried that. he wouldn’t have made a point to tell simon he loves him. hopefully we get another season because i think with the iconic ending revolution rendition and him looking in the camera, which also parallels the shot of him being forced to apologize/go to hillerska, he is realizing that focusing on legacy is taking away what’s important to him, and he’s going to shake shit up.

august is definitely the most obsessed with legacy, wanting to carry on his father’s business, being persistent on befriending wilhelm and trying to social climb, wanting power and perfection with being prefect, rowing captain etcetera. he is so obsessed with perfection and reputation he gets addicted to drugs, he fucks with simon and makes him get stuff for parties he can’t afford because good parties will make him look better, he manipulates sara multiple times, he mostly wanted felice because of her nobility, he fucking films wilhelm and simon and OUTS him, his own cousin. he hates that wille has everything he wants but isn’t as interested in preserving and more importantly improving the legacy he’s inheriting. meanwhile august’s familial legacy is dwindling, and he holds on to the last bit of assets and names that he can.... v much sick and a weirdo that shows how harmful being obsessed with legacy is

the queen is of course v focused on legacy and it really breaks my heart and makes me angry that she doesn’t care about wilhelm’s happiness more than their reputation, and moreso doesn’t get august in trouble for literally leaking child p*rn of her kid for the sake of appearances?!?!?! like how is he even remotely trustworthy she is wrong for that! like i said earlier the obsession with legacy puts a strain on their mother/son relationship. she doesn’t even really say anything about wille’s sexuality or his relationship, and barely comforts him, mostly goes in with a plan she’s already concocted without him to fix everything. 

erik seemed to understand and accept his role as crown prince but obviously had issues with it as well, like when he makes the plan for him and wilhelm to run from the press, or when he tells wilhelm to enjoy himself while there aren’t so many eyes on him that care. erik shows someone who has more unconditional love and empathy but still has to focus on legacy and is much more inclined to continue his legacy, but we do see those glimpses over how even the most “ideal” attitude of preserving legacy causes issues.

felice is expected to live up to her mother’s legacy, of being an equestrian, of being the lucia, but she doesn’t want either of those things. her mother wants her to be thinner and straighten her hair, and find someone of nobility to be with. obviously she does find wilhelm attractive lol but i think the main reason she pursued him and definitely why she pursued august was because she was expected to social climb and have royal kids. felice feels the need to portray a false narrative of herself on social media to uphold a certain image of herself. it’s very fucked up that her mom wants those values instilled in her but i love that felice was putting up boundaries and pushing back against her mother and the narrative she’s supposed to live up to. her giving sara the role of lucia and focusing on supporting her friends more in the latter half of the season shows growth and i’m excited to see where her story goes. 

sara is interesting because she seems to want to reject the legacy of her family and being working class and to fit in with the elite of hillerska. sara hates micke, hates that simon contacted him because it’s bringing in this “shameful” and painful part of their past (which i mean is def fair). other than sara’s betrayal in 1.06, i think the scene where she tells her family that she wants to reside at hillerska really exemplifies where she’s at in her relation to legacy/class. after dining at hillerska and living amongst the elite she gets annoyed at eating around the TV, she blames her mother for not leaving micke sooner, she gets angry with simon for caring for her. she wants to lead her own life, be popular and wanted because people want her, not for pity (even though i think simon of course truly cares abt his sister she feels annoyed with his protection and care). felice says early on that she thinks sara doesn’t care what other’s think or having friends, and sara says she still wants friends though. i think sara’s biggest thing is she wants to belong, her and simon moved schools after she was bullied for being autistic so i think that definitely affected her even though she tries to act nonchalant about hillerska at first. we see sara’s longing to fit in in smaller ways at first, like her asking her mom for a better piece of her uniform because hers are “cheap” and already worn out. she gets annoyed at simon for chewing loudly, or her mother sitting casually at the table. as she gets closer to felice and madison and all the other students, the allure of the upper class and their lifestyle draws her in more. so much to the point where she gets very anxious and upset at the idea of her and simon leaving hillerska because he’s having his own crisis and doesn’t consider his pov. so much so that she effectively betrays simon and felice, the people she’s closest to, to make a deal (and make out lol) with august to room there and “be just like him”. personally i think sara’s attraction to august is mostly that allure of the elite and that he seemed to “desire” her when he kissed her because he was being a manipulative dickhead--again that want to fit in and be wanted. and  i think there is a really interesting angle of jealousy and competition in female friendships, even if it is really subtle or not intentionally insidious or anything, sara does slowly start to trying to assume all the roles/fashions/mannerisms of felice to live that life she wants. i do think felice and sara’s care for each other is genuine and one of my fave parts of the show, but i think a lot of people who experienced being a teen girl know how we are always pitted against each other even in our subconscious because of how society treats and values women.

simon seems to be the character that is least interested in upholding legacy and tradition or giving a fuck what anyone thinks (as omar said here lmao) and that makes him a really interesting foil to wilhelm. there could be something said about micke fearing that simon is following in his footsteps, but to me that plot more so reveals how the upper class (august) continually exploit the working class for their benefit, and the trappings of generational oppression. the other thing that can be said is simon signing up for private tutoring and rowing, but again i think that serves to further show that he is forced to “play” by the game of the elites because the school/society is corrupt, and also, that simon has further ambitions outside of where he’s at. he wants to get good grades because he wants to explore new places and avenues. to me simon’s biggest motivations are his passions, the things and people he loves--music, his family, wilhelm. he isn’t loyal to others just because he’s expected to be, or uphold a certain image but because he really cares. he doesn’t watch out for sara because that’s his expected role as her brother to do so, but because he cares. he wasn’t interested in knowing wilhelm because he’s a prince like everyone else, he makes it clear he thinks the royal family are privileged and exploitative, but he is interested because he saw the real wilhelm. he’s out and proud even though his elite classmates are more conservative, he doesn’t care about voicing his unpopular opinions, he has no problem walking away from august’s dickhead behavior or calling him out on his shit. simon doesn’t care if people don’t think of him in the best light. (the only exceptions ig are the drugs conflict and the video, though literally anyone would have a problem with that because it’s much deeper that public opinion and has ramifications and is deeply traumatic--but just adding that before someone is like “well actually!”) i also think it’s interesting that most of the songs simon sings has themes of pushing back against the societal norms, and being remembered in history, plus of course the revolution song motif, and how much those songs affect wilhelm, he seems to connect deeply, like he wishes he could do those things but simon is the one who gets to sing them and actually live them.

#young royals #the way this is 2k words lmfao #i do not expect ppl read to this but when the analytical worm starts gnawing on my rottin brain i must oblige

[arethereanyoriginalusernames]

Entire arc of one of my dumbass characters

Hey, so I finished planning out the complete story arc for one of my characters, Vlad. I wanted to share it here so people can tell me what they think. Keep in mind, I’m going to be summarizing stuff as briefly as possible. So while it’ll be long, I’ll still be skirting over some things so that we’re not here for a million years (so in other words, with certain things, you’ll just have to nod and go along with it). If anyone has any questions afterwards, I can make a second post clearing stuff up.

So enough with the drabble

Vlad Dracula the 628th aka Lucian Dracula

Before we begin, there’s 2 things we need for context. One is the Old Customs. These are old rules set by the first Vlad Dracula. The whole “descents of Dracula” thing, where a new Vlad is named every other generation and is destined to do something big for vampire kind, is included in said Customs. The rest is basically a set of toxic rules that only traditional vampire families (like the Draculas) follow. Two, the previous Vlad, Grandpa Drac , ended an ongoing war between vampires and humans a few centuries ago. Vampires are still not high in public opinion, but at least they’re no longer hunted for sport

Before we begin, there’s 2 things we need for context. One is the Old Customs. These are old rules set by the first Vlad Dracula. The whole “descents of Dracula” thing, where a new Vlad is named every other generation and is destined to do something big for vampire kind, is included in said Customs. The rest is basically a set of toxic rules that only traditional vampire families (like the Draculas) follow. Two, the previous Vlad, Grandpa Drac , ended an ongoing war between vampires and humans a few centuries ago. Vampires are still not high in public opinion, but at least they’re no longer hunted for sport

Anyways, let’s briefly cover the backstory for emo boi, who wasn’t always called Vlad. At age 5, he was picked out of all his cousins to be the next Vlad. Problem was that Vlad and his parents were the few Draculas who didn’t believe in the customs, so of course controversy. Vlad’s aunts and uncles would act abusive to him and his parents, and his cousins would be rewarded for beating him up. Most notably he became a favourite target of Wolfgang, the largest and strongest of the cousins.

When he was 14, Vlad’s parents decided fuck this noise, and they and Vlad moved away and cut ties with the family. Vlad however had developed terrible anxiety problems, and never developed proper social skills. He started a relationship with Mina around this time, but this only helped a bit. While Mina cares about Vlad and goes out of her way to help, she’s simply not knowledgeable about how to help him properly, and often (unintentionally) ends up being an enabler

Vlad’s antisocial behaviour only worsened as he got older, and eventually he took to confining himself in his room as what happened throughout his childhood made it impossible for him to enjoy much. He developed a strained relationship with his parents, and one day he ended up storming out of the house after an argument. Unfortunately, Vlad ended up being kidnapped by vampire hunters and shipped off to be killed in an old vampire hunting ground. He’d find out later that his parents were killed not long after his departure during a struggle with hunters

He was shipped up to a town in Belgium, where he escaped confinement and hid out in some woods. This is where he met Phoenix and Chronos after they were assigned to get him to leave. With nowhere to go, and hunters still hinted at being in the area, Vlad ends up tagging along and eventually joining the group.

At first, Vlad acts like a massive asshole to everyone, especially Phoenix, who’s outgoing and confident nature reminds him a bit of Wolfgang. The fact that Vlad clearly isn’t good at fighting doesn’t help as he constantly lets his insecurities get the better of him. He tries to hide the fact that he has anxiety issues, only to have one in the middle of a job, nearly getting himself killed.

Eventually, he decides to try running away, only to be intercepted by Phoenix. Phoenix calls Vlad out for being an asshole, for hiding things from people, and for taking his issues out on everyone else. The two have an emotional argument where they both open up about each other’s backstories and whatnot. After they’ve settled down, Phoenix finally gets through to Vlad that his life’s not going to get better the way he’s going on now. Determined to help, she offers to be his friend. And thus begins the saga of these two being chaotic dumbasses together

Of course, while Vlad agrees to return and try to better himself, it’s a slow process. He’s hesitant to seek help from anyone but Phoenix, and being around characters like Chronos and Athan who criticize him causes his insecurities to resurface. Nonetheless, he sticks to it and learns how to fight from both Phoenix and Athan. Athan also teaches him how to play to his strengths during a job.

In terms of confidence, Phoenix definitely starts to rub off on Vlad,, and more of his personality starts to come out. They still bicker but they also joke around and have angsting sessions where they just scream about shit.

Vlad’s development into being more confident, however, starts regressing when the family gets involved. During a period where the mercenary group is split up, Vlad visits Mina and is invited back to the Dracula household. It seems that he needs to sort things out regarding his parents’ wills.

Taking Mina and Trix with him, Vlad gets to relieve a bunch of uncomfortable childhood memories, and of course his family aren’t happy to see him (Wolfgang being quick to go back to antagonizing him). Some members of the family want to ignore the wills and claim things like Vlad’s house as their own. In order to have his parents’ wishes respected, Vlad ends up having to physically fight Wolfgang.

And Vlad wins... after he melts Wolfgang’s face off in the sun, and he himself looses a goddamn arm in the process

After Vlad wins, his aunts, uncles, and cousins all seem to hide away, not wanting to confront him. Grandpa Drac invites Vlad to join him for a drink, and there he explains why he chose Vlad to be, well, Vlad. Turns out Grandpa is evil as shit and actually tortured a bunch of people in order to end the war. And he also wants Vlad to overturn the old customs, so that vampires can start making progress to overcome other species (the rules kinda prevent you from slaughtering millions basically).

So, Vlad’s not exactly about that, so he tries to nope out of this, except uh oh, grandpa spiked his drink with magical vampire essence blood or whatever. Now Vlad has blood magic, which he later finds out was used throughout history to do some... pretty fucked up shit. Vlad of course isn’t immediately aware of this, and he’s still not over the fact he melted Wolfgang’s face off or that grandpa is crazy.

After weird meeting with gramps, Vlad gets approached by one of his cousins, Ludwig, who’s also Wolfgang’s younger brother. Ludwig invites Vlad for a night out a cafe, and there Vlad finds out that hey, abusive shit didn’t stop after he left. Basically, a lot of the cousins would aid in antagonizing Vlad bc that meant they were safe. Ludwig had always been picked on to some extent by his older bro, but after Vlad left, he became a favourite target. Plus the majority of the family have alcohol issues and shit, and tldr this entire family is fucked and somebody should trash all this and go back to the drawing board

Hey, here’s one bonus. It’s during his convo with Ludwig that Vlad actually reveals his real name to the audience, Lucian. And it’s only the first instance of him referring to himself as such.

On the way back, Ludwig and Vlad get caught up in chaos caused by Trix. During the struggle, Vlad accidentally unleashes blood magic, and passes tf out. After waking up, demanding answers from gramps, and getting the disturbing context behind the blood magic, Vlad immediately leaves and reunited with Phoenix and everyone else. However, the whole blood magic thing is causing some issues. Vlad has to drink more blood now, and he really doesn’t like using it knowing what it was previously used for. He also starts resenting sharing a name with someone who was idolized for all the wrong reasons.

He starts transitioning back into an asshole, and eventually he reaches out to fellow vampires Mina and Athan for help. Vlad’s doing pretty bad emotionally during all this, and is generally going through a lot. He starts making plans with Mina and Athan to somehow end this entire messed up situation, meanwhile he’s rapidly regressing in character development. He gets a couple kicks up the ass and starts to get better tho. The biggest wake up call is when his BFF Phoenix gets fucking possessed by an alien god for a couple hours, then runs away.

So, you know, a typical Friday night

At this point, Vlad, sorry , Lucian, kinda snaps. He rejects the name Vlad once and for all, and strictly goes by Lucian. He sets out to find Phoenix by himself, but is eventually joined by Athan and Mina, and later other characters. During the road trip to get to wherever tf Phoenix is, it’s the return of family drama. However, Lucian doesn’t seem to be quite bothered by it. He’s more set on getting his friend back, and he’s kinda over having this bullshit haunt him his entire life, and refuses to give it any power over him. Still, he, Athan, and Mina agree that it’s best to deal with this now so they don’t have to deal with it again later.

Gramps is still trying to go through with his plans, and Wolfgang wants some revenge on Lucian. But Lucian ain’t having none of this, calls the entire family out on the dumbassery , and, for extra effect, throws the book of old customs into the goddamn fire. He promptly curb stomps Wolfgang and just walks out to the amazement of everyone else. This apparently starts a little revolution where, one by one, the rest of his cousins (and some of his aunts and uncles) start leaving and starting their own lives.

Lucian’s character growth is more or less complete from here on. He still has his issues with insecurities and anxiety, but has started to give them less power over him and can now focus on the present. Which he kinda needs to do now bc oh no, BFF doing weird shit and everyone’s going crazy. He does start to use blood magic, but only in emergencies. He also has gets a chance to repay Phoenix for helping him by helping her. So... there’s that.

Oh yeah, he also decides that anyone who judges him can go fuck themselves and goes full goth. Thank you, good night!

[jewpacabruhs]

hi guys! so this post is gonna be a rambly mess but fuck it, here ya go. if u dont wanna read all of it, u dont have to; skip down to underneath the tl;dr in bold text for the important bits :)

(there’s a brief & non-graphic mention of a triggering topic in the next paragraph. please be sure to skip this next paragraph if the thought of suicide is going to upset you.)

alright. so i didn't share this originally, but i spent some time in a psychiatric unit this month. suicidality related. 1000% unrelated from anything online, i've just struggled with depression for a very long time & shit happens. i didn't intend to share that at all & i certainly don't want pity; i'm telling u guys bc my time in the unit was extremely eye-opening, and i have some insight to share. since i've gotten out, with the help of my newest anti-depressant (fourth time’s a charm lol), i'm seeing the world in a better light & i finally have the energy to and the interest in exploring what it has to offer, which frankly i've never had before.

with that has come the realization that i’ve come to do something very unhealthy, and i want to break out of it. and that’s how much i’ve come to rely on my fandom life. i don’t want to get too candid publicly, but mental illness took a lot from me, and i lost most of my life, my future, and my options in the last few years. next year will involve a lot of working on rebuilding things. but in the time that i let things fall to pieces around me & i absolutely couldn’t get out of bed, i had a phone and i had a laptop. so when i couldn’t get up and physically face the world, i built up a new world online.

and i don’t think that’s a completely uncommon experience. most people are able to better manage things, and evenly juggle real life with an internet life (like i did back in middle school), because most people can’t abandon their real lives entirely like i managed to; but i do think a lot of people nowadays rely on their fandom life and their fandom friends when their irl situation isn’t ideal. and that’s an excellent coping mechanism in theory, but i think it’s debilitating in the long run.

forgive me for sounding like an old person, but i’m a heavy nostalgist and a bit of an anarcho-primitivist in that i resent modern technology's influence on society - but that hasn't stopped me from letting it be a big part of my life out of accessibility. the internet kept me occupied during my low points, and i became dependent, but i've realized i don't wanna live like that anymore. i’m vaguely grateful that it usually kept me busy enough that i wasn’t thinking the bad thoughts as frequently, but more than anything, i’m resentful that my grasp on reality got lost somewhere along the way, and i let time get away from me, too. because, again, an internet life should be a fun hobby, but when it’s a lifestyle and it becomes an excuse to avoid dealing with our real lives, bc our real lives aren’t as rewarding or as exciting, then it’s unhealthy.

everything’s at our fingertips these days, but i deeply believe human interaction, fun, and fulfillment shouldn't be spoon-fed to us through a screen. it's easy access, sure, but at the end of the day, is it any way to live? compared with how much world there is to see, i’m no longer satisfied with the thought of sitting behind a screen for another five years. i used to be, when i had no hope and no drive, but not anymore. i’m not gonna let myself settle for staying busy with the thing that takes the least amount of work & movement. not only because i’m a whole ass adult who needs to start sorting my shit out for the long run, but also because i deserve better.

and it’s fucking hard! especially for those of us who are neurodivergent. i dropped out of school three fucking times due to crippling social anxiety and utter lack of ambition and energy. i lost all my friends through that (making friends post-school is hard af); the thought of having to go out and remake friends makes me wanna fucking cry. i have a hard enough time making friends online, i’ve even come to struggle with correspondence thru text & email. phone calls? outta the question. but that’s therapy shit, and i know i’ll get there. i just have to stop putting life off by staying in a comfort zone.

and it’s interesting; depression and anxiety really took everything from me, and while i was dwelling in my own misery, my adhd worsened and decided to make my entire brain revolve around my fixations, so i didn’t have to deal with my own life. can’t think about how much you wanna die and how much you can’t function in society if you’re busy thinking about a ship you like or a character you find interesting. so i latched onto the safety of that. aggressively. problem with that is that once you let your “happiness” (as much of it as you can feel in the midst of your depressive episode, anyway) revolve around an interest, that’s all you have. so you become dependent and reliant, and that’s never good, especially if you’re someone like me who feels pathetic & ridiculous when you realize it’s all you can bring yourself to care about. 

and i think that’s what i realized in the psych ward (where there’s legitimately nothing to do; i did soooo much more thinking than usual, and i already think too much haha); mental illness will try to fuck up your lifestyle, so you have to eradicate the things that’ll let that happen in the first place. for example, like i said, my adhd tries to counteract my depression by making me hyperfixate and/or hyperfocus on something else to protect me from bad personal thoughts, and that’s good in theory (doing something you enjoy when you feel bad, to distract urself, is the number one most basic coping skill you learn), but i can’t do it in moderation, i let it run my life, and that’s made me worse in the long run. so i have to force myself out of that completely and not let myself fixate on things that make me happy in the short term, but don’t ultimately further me as a person. having fixations helped me through some awful times, but now i need to force myself to grow up, you know?

and while tumblr and other social media is an excellent way to indulge those fixations, it’s an aggressive enabler, in more ways than one. what i mean by that... okay, so while i’m the type of person who self-destructs while unhealthy, i do occasionally lash out. and i know some people completely explode rather than implode when they’re not doing well. and that’s how you get discourse, i think. because when mental illness makes us care much more about our interests than we ought to, and someone has a differing opinion about that interest, the instinct is of course to attack, if you’re that kind of person. i don’t think i am, but depression and boredom go hand in hand, and i might be inclined to care more about discourse than i would if i were healthy, purely because it’s entertaining and something to do. 

that’s a long winded way of saying, while i stand wholeheartedly by my past positions, i do regret starting shit in the first place. i’m not the kind of person who genuinely cares about much and i have little to no sense of morality (im a chaotic neutral bastard), so the fact i was bored enough to start shit really goes against my character and says a lot about how bad i’ve been. so i apologize for all that. but, again, i think that's just what happens when something is truly your everything. and i think the chronic negativity of modern fandom is a result of how damn seriously we all take it, because we care so much and we’re so dependent. fandom’s supposed to be fun, but it’s just too damn stressful this way.

idk my point in sharing all this, but i do think it'd be cool if this kinda got yall thinking. even if you don't engage in discourse, if fandom is just one of your only consistent sources of happiness, that's not healthy either. we all gotta break out & exist more & louder & more positively. and unfortunately i think tumblr fandom (and maybe all modern fandom) is no longer a place that encourages positivity and health.

but for all my criticism, i do just wanna say how eternally grateful i am that i was fortunate enough to meet the people i call my best friends through tumblr. they're my family, truly, and all the bullshit in this fandom has been worth it simply because it brought them to me. i love them to death and i always will, even if interests change, even if we grow apart, even if we quit speaking entirely in the next few years, i love them with my whole heart in a way that transcends a simple fandom friendship and i'm so glad we bonded over sp in the first place. that’ll never change.

i will also always love south park itself. now that the cat's outta the bag about my hospital visit, i can brag about my most pathetic and obsessive accomplishment; the fact that i've never let circumstance stop me from watching a new south park as it airs, and i've now watched sp on 1) an airplane, and 2) in a psych ward. i win for most dedicated fan tbfh. dsjkf & i'll keep that tradition, and i'll still watch this stupid show til it ends! it'll always hold a special place in my heart, & kyman's still my most meaningful & long-term ship. i'll never stop loving it. 

tl;dr

so, to recap; for 2020 i'm making myself step back from fandom (not just sp fandom, but fandom in general) and quit letting my world revolve around my fixations so i can enjoy the outside world a little more, mental illness be damned, and the first step is gonna be quitting tumblr. this blog won't be deleted and i may occasionally post (maybe when next season airs) but you're absolutely free to unfollow bc this'll be a mostly inactive blog. i’m also unfollowing everyone, so mutuals, please don’t take that personally. 

i will, however, try to write more prolifically, bc fic writing is something i'm able to do in moderation & enjoy, and i hope to get back into it. so if you'd like, you can keep an eye out for any upcoming fanfic i may post - my ao3 is leere. i also have snapchat, instagram, & twitter my mutuals can ask for asap (bc ill be logging out for good by the afternoon of the 31st, which is tomorrow) - though i'm not very active on any of them. still, if you wanna have access to me, i’ll be there.

i want some connection to the fandom still, albeit without letting my life revolve around it, so i'll be starting a new open-to-the-public kyman discord server! the post with the invite for that will go up soon. nvm im too anxious  

thank you for reading, thank you for the good times (thnks fr th mmrs), and i hope everyone has a good 2020! 

#txt #mine

[asiryn]

this post is going to be very rambly, so i apologize in advance. if you’re potentially interested in my liveblogs, and/or interested in hearing a bit about my current life and disability issues, tune in. if you aren’t, then....keep scrolling i guess XD

(if you just want the current liveblog schedule, scroll to the bottom)

[and this got predictably very long, so i’m gonna put it behind a cut for convenience] 

up to recently, my main liveblogs have been about the pokemon anime, with a few other shows, books, and especially video games sprinkled in here and there. essentially, waaaay back in yonder year of 2014, netflix added the first season of pokemon, the indigo league, to their site, and i, in a fit of nostalgia, made the veeery questionable decision to watch all of the pokemon anime---rewatching the stuff i hadn’t touched since i was kid, and then continuing on into the unknown, and watching all the seasons from gen 3 onward that i had missed due to dropping out of pokemon. i only really started actually making liveblog posts once i hit gen 3, then i stayed consistent-ish from then onward. (for the curious, i’m up to sun & moon, and i have 44 episodes left until i finish it (i’m not ready ;;;; ), and then netflix actually just dropped the first 12 episodes of the newest series, pokemon journeys, so....56 until i’ve caught up with the dub XD)

so, all of y’all who climbed aboard with those liveblogs are probably already aware of Who I Am, at least a little. (....this is making it sound like i’m Some Big Name in liveblogging, but i’m not really anything of the sort, just so we’re all on the same page XD) at least, in terms of the fact that i’m physically disabled, suffer from chronic pain, etc. but recently, i’ve joined two new fandoms, and i’ve begun liveblogging spop and my next life as a villainess. and my spop posts in particular are already becoming some of the most popular posts i’ve ever done (like wow, you guys). and i think part of that popularity is due to the fact that these are two pretty recent, pretty popular fandoms (tho i do also like to think that i do make good content XP). but the point is that quite a lot of new ppl are coming across me, and idk how much, if any, of you have taken the time to look at my bio or anything. so i guess....part of this post is just some ruminations, but also my way of letting you know more of what you’re getting into. 

so, for those who don’t know: hi, you can call me kiryn, i liveblog stuff sometimes, and i’m physically disabled. i suffer from intense, constant, chronic pain. it stems from a bone disease called HME, or hereditary multiple exostosis, if you’re curious (i have a severe case of it, joy of joys). the short version of what that means is that i have a lot of bone spurs everywhere on my body, and they....cause me a lot of pain. basically, i cannot do any kind of sustained activity without the already significant, never-ceasing pain that i feel cranking up to unbearable levels, and basically i’ll be rendered immobile. i do have pain meds that i take, and that very much help to take the edge off, and make it so that i can function at all (bc, believe fucking me, w/o them, i wouldn’t be able to achieve even the little i can do), but even with them, it only makes a dent in my pain levels, and again, sustained activity makes up that difference very quickly. 

now, the gist of this stuff i’ll mention from time to time, but....i don’t usually go into much detail about it (and this post is probably the most detailed i’ve been about my condition in years). bc, quite frankly, it’s depressing. (and seeing as i also already have clinical depression, that’s definitely not something that i need more of XD) i participate in fandoms for escapism, and bc i don’t really want to think about that crushing mountain of reality. i’ve had this condition since birth, and i’ve literally lived my entire life in constant pain, and i honestly have no fucking idea what it even feels like to be painless. and what’s even worse is that it’s a degenerative disease---essentially, the bone spurs are wearing down my joints, so....my entire condition will just keep worsening as i get older. (and no, surgery to remove the spurs isn’t really an option.) i’ll be 29 next month, and i can already tell you, i’ve been feeling that decline sharply. when i was a kid, i could still run. by the time i was a teenager, i couldn’t even do that anymore; the best i could manage was a jog. now....i don’t think i could even do that. 

i guess the main point in why i’m saying all this, is that for the last year especially, i’ve been dealing with the worst downward swing that i’ve had in years. in my late teens and early-mid 20s, i got into a pretty good rhythm, of knowing my body’s limits, how to budget spoons to accomplish things, etc. but now even that fragile equilibrium has been thrown out the window, and i’m currently struggling to learn the new limits and rhythm of this downward swing that is unfortunately now my reality. even before, i was pretty limited on what i could accomplish, but even that narrow window has shrunk even further. so basically, i’m in the testing zone still. and it’s a very slow process, bc once i exceed the limit, my body breaks down, and now it takes me even longer to recover. as an example, i used to know that i could wake up in the morning and get ready to leave the house in 20-30 mins. now? i need at least an hour, which involves me pushing through a wave of agony to be able to take my pain meds in the first place, and then wait for those meds to kick in and the pain to die down enough to move without feeling like i’m moving through a wall of spikes. (and that’s just the start of every day for me, and before even throwing in all of the other variables)

so, coming back to the liveblogs......obviously, that’s affected by all this too. if you’ve wondered why there’s been a gap between me finishing up spop s1 and starting s2....that’s why. partly, i didn’t expect how analysis-heavy i was going to get on spop; pokeani just doesn’t tend to be as consistently thematically deep, so those liveblogs took far less out of me than spop has, and pushing myself to finish 5 episodes in one day....well, it was too much. and the thing is, it’s obviously unhealthy for me to continually push myself to the point of total breakdown, so...that’s where learning my new limits comes in. so, these past few days, i’ve been thinking, and essentially trying to better figure out how to do liveblogs like this without pretty much killing myself in the process (bc i honestly do love making them....i mean, if i didn’t, then it really wouldn’t be worth the literal pain it takes to make them XD). and also there’s a component of managing my anxiety-brain, bc leaving things Unfinished stresses me out, and so when coming to terms with the fact that it’s going to take me awhile to finish one show....knowing that i’d be leaving others hanging....Doesn’t Help XD

so, here’s what i’ve got so far (and obvs, this is subject to much tweaking in the future XP)

currently, i’m watching 4 shows: pokeani, good omens, villainess, and spop. villainess rn is the least of my worries, bc 1 ep is coming out a week, so it’s not demanding a lot of my time. 

for the other 3, here’s the preliminary schedule i’ve sort of hashed out:

- pokeani sm103-106

- spop s2

- pokeani sm107-110

- spop s3 

- pokeani sm111-114

- spop s4

- pokeani sm115-118

- spop s5 

- pokeani sm119-122

- good omens

- pokeani sm123-126

- [catch up block] (i don’t have a good track record in keeping up with ongoing shows, so if i fall behind on villainess, this is where i can catch up)

- finish pokeani sun & moon [sm127-146] (the league starts on ep 128, so i’d rather not experience any big interruptions in the battles XD)

basically, i’ve given myself a limit of 4 pokeani eps in a single session (bc as stated, they don’t take as much out of me), and with spop, the most i’ll let myself watch in a row will be 3 eps (s2 will probably be broken up into a 3/2/2 block, s3 a 3/3 block, and s4&5 will be a 3/3/3/2/2 block).

now, keep in mind that i’m very deliberately making no guarantees about specific days, bc who even knows, but at the very least, scheduling and talking it all out like this will help me to better manage my spoons, and if you’ve actually read this far, then you’ll know the method in the madness and why i’m doing things this way. XD the vague goal is to get in a least 1 liveblog session a week (plus a bonus of the new villainess ep on saturdays)---at least for the shows. i’m still having to working out what i’m going to do about video games....maybe i should just go on a ‘once a week’ model for all my hobbies across the board XDD

in the next couple of days, i’ll be posting that in-depth look into all the ships of villainess (it started as me just pecking down a few thoughts while i was taking a social media break due to the Current Events, but now i’m at the point where i’m like, i’ve put too much effort into this to not post it, damn it XP), and then depending on spoons, i’ll try to start in on that schedule this week, so stay tuned for some pokeani! (again....i’ll try to hit at least 1 liveblog a week before i start trying to get more ambitious XDD)

in any case, if you have stuck through to the end, thank you very much. your support means a lot to me 💖

#kiryn's adventures in liveblogging #kiryn watches pokemon #kiryn watches spop #kiryn watches she ra #kiryn watches my next life as a villainess #kiryn watches good omens #life updates #disability talk #scheduling

[findsomeoneelse]

       This might be a very angsty thing to say but I kind of legit hate my dad. He complains all the time that my brother (who i think probably has depression or something rn) and I don’t help him around the house but 1) when we do he’s a huge asshole, literally calls me retarded all the time bc he’ll verbally tell me like 10 things in a row to do and my ADD ass can’t remember it like that and he often  threatens me as well (and there have been incidents with physical violence between him and me). 2) gives us the most useless and asinine tasks i.e. vacuuming a BRICK PATIO or WASHING ROCKS. 3) will ask us when it’s convenient for HIM, my brother and I are 20 and 21 and have either a job or school and for a while I was doing both. 4) he is NEVER satisfied no matter how much we do. 

        And concerning the physical violence shit I have so much pent up feelings about it. As far as I know he’s never come after my brother like that. He may have hit my mom before but I’m not sure. I just know that once they got into a bad argument or something bc he was being really loud bc of a football game and then suddenly my mom was crying (she doesn’t cry a lot) grabbed us kids and went to our grandma’s. He’s also kicked every dog we’ve ever had, literally drop kicked one through a small tree bc it chewed the blinds and then left him outside to run away while he took off to who knows where to sulk. But my point is he has NEVER treated my brother the way he has treated me and it shows. My brother gets away with avoiding so much work and a fuck-ton of lying. My dad almost never invades his space or commandeers his stuff. I’ve almost failed several big school projects in the past bc he’d randomly decide to punish me or that his stupid yard work was more important and that it was my fault for not accounting for his random chores. 

         I literally keep a bug-out bag in my car and a knife by my bed bc of him. I spent my entire junior and senior years of high school with a stomach ache every single day and horrible insomnia from anxiety bc if he wasn’t threatening me with violence he was talking about kicking me out of the house for no real reason. His response to my worsening mental health was to make jokes or just ignore me when I managed to finally muster up the determination to say something. If my mom hadn’t taken action and helped me get help I’d most likely be dead now. I’m still trying to rebuild my self esteem that he destroyed. Then years after I was on medication (that he was opposed to and mocked, my mom was the only one on top of that) and doing better he had the fucking audacity to ask me about how I was doing. Me being like 16 yrs old I lacked the vocab to say that I feel that he forfeited the right to ask me those things so I just shrugged it off.

          He insults and mocks every friend I have in some way shape or form. He also once told me that some older friends I was extremely close to at the time would eventually get tired of hanging out with an annoying little kid so I should get used to them not being around bc they would leave me. I mean he was right about that, and they were pretty toxic for me but that was really fucked up and I’ll never forget it.

          I finally have a good romantic relationship now, with a boy surprisingly, and he’s so sweet to me. Every time he tells me anything remotely kind I almost fucking cry bc I immediately assume he’s lying or somehow delusional. We had our first sort of disagreement, it wasn’t even that big a deal he had just made a few jokes that had upset me, but I was so terrified to bring it up and was so ready for a fight that when he simply apologized for his behavior and promised to correct it I immediately broke down in tears of relief. I’m so terrified for him to meet my dad bc I don’t want him to belittle and invalidate us, or try and take away all our privacy in a weird attempt at policing my sexuality (he has tried something like this in the past with my brother). I’m also so scared my boyfriend will just assume my dad is a normal nice guy and that I’m crazy, bc my dad is good at appearances. We’re well-off but honestly the only reason my brother and I ever see any of that money is bc of our mom, she handles the finances (and p much everything else around here). 

        That’s another thing I hate is that bc I turned out okay everyone assumes he must be a good parent. I had to work so fucking hard to become who I am now DESPITE him NOT because of him. I had to work so hard to become a kinder person, and learn to motivate, comfort, advocate, take care of myself. I’m an intelligent person (at least i’ve been told I am) bc I work to teach myself, both in school and life. I had to learn all my emotional intelligence and social skills myself. I’m working to make my life good and full of the love I never felt from him and to a slightly lesser extent my mom. I’m still working at it. Which is why I’m just as afraid that he’ll be accepting of my relationship and be “proud” or whatever. Thinking he raised a confident and smart daughter. That he has any right to be a voyeur to my happiness or take any credit for it.  

      I work hard so work through so many issues he caused in me on my own. I work so hard to keep myself from sabotaging my current relationship bc I feel unworthy or like it will just vanish. I still can’t fully grasp that this boy could genuinely like me and feel like I’m worthy of his time and effort bc of how stupid and ugly my dad has made me feel my entire life. I have so many things I want to tell my SO but in the moment feel like I physically cannot get the words out for fear of looking stupid when he finally leaves me. I still have so many walls up with him and I really don’t want to but I can’t get them down bc I’m so fucking scared despite all the evidence he’s given me that he cares about me and just wants to know me. It’s honestly incredible how just having someone like him has changed me for the better. He makes me feel smart and capable, like I can have the life I want. He doesn’t see any of the shit my dad seems to see in me and hate. Like fuck the fact that I only seemed to need one stable and loving relationship in my life to succeed really says something I think. 

       I hate feeling like I can’t talk to my own parents, well mostly my mom, but they really make it impossible. My dad bc you never know what will piss him off or if he even gives a shit and my mom bc she will probably tell him whatever you tell her. I have other adults, my aunt (my mom’s older sister) and uncle (tho he’s a newer addition to the family, they married last year.) but I’m so scared to talk to them in case they slip up and let stuff slip to my parents. My aunt also just doesn’t Get a lot of things like mental illness so she can invalidate ppl and be mean. She does encourage me a lot tho, more than my parents EVER have. 

      My SO doesn’t have much of an idea of my relationship w my family other than it seems strained and we barely talk despite all living together. He sometimes half-jokingly tells me I should spend more time with them or make an effort too, and I don’t tell him that I’m not the one who fucked that up for us. I try not to talk about any of this with him yet, and I honestly don’t know when a good time is or how to go about it. He’s gotten little hints here and there before I change the subject. He has a relatively big family that he regularly spends time with, so I don’t know if he’d understand all this. His dad is a little similar to mine in the sense that he always seems to have weird projects around the house that he drags them into but it doesn’t seem like he’s violent. I honestly don’t know what to say about the physical abuse. I’m so scared of how he’ll react. I’m scared he’ll brush it off, I’m scared he’ll get super concerned or angry for me. I just don’t want it to change how he sees me. People seem to get the impression that I’m confident and that I don’t take shit, and it makes me feel so embarrassed that I let myself be pushed around by my dad.

      If anyone actually reads this post and has suggestions for talking to an SO about this stuff (especially in the case of an abuser being good at manipulation/gas lighting) let me know any suggestions you have. I thought by this point in this rant I’d have some sort of clarity but I don’t really. My dad has been slightly better the last year or so, since we moved to a new house that’s bigger and we’re on opposite sides of it. After one of his worst outbursts (at the beginning of my senior year) I gave him a book about male abuse in an attempt at confrontation but I doubt he read it. He’s been better but I can’t let go of all these feelings. Older people tell me that eventually I’ll forgive him and move on but I honestly don’t want to. I don’t want him to just get away with treating us like garbage. Maybe that makes me petty and childish but I am barely 20 so. It be like that. Might make a separate post about my brother might not. I love him but dudes got issues rn.

#personal rant #family drama #don't read if you dont want to #long post

[fairycosmos]

hey I’m the anon who’s ask about uni got lost. so I was so excited about uni bc the college I went to was terrible, I lost touch w the friends I had at hs. and so i thought it was gonna be a fresh start for me to meet some nice people. but it’s just not happening idk what’s wrong with me but my social anxiety is worsening since I started bc I feel so alone. I’ve been talking 2 a group of girls but i feel left out bc they talk like I’m not there. I need some advice, what do u think I can do?

:(( hey. i’m super sorry angel, that must be very tough to process and deal with. i think it’s natural to go through phases of loneliness to an extent - as a young adult that’s the only way you really learn to rely on yourself. sometimes you honestly just have to be your own best friend. that way, when you meet people, they’ll be able to sense that you have a strong sense of self and they’ll truly want to get to know YOU. because they can tell that you know who you are, and thats a really positive quality to have. but honestly, it’s sort of a thing no one tells you about uni - how hard it is to connect with others and how much time you have to spend by yourself. it’s a lot more normal than you think it is, i promise. no matter how alienated you feel, you’re not alone in this experience. though i get that it’s a really weird and difficult and painful thing to go through, so don’t be mad at yourself for being upset and hurt. whatever you’re feeling, it’s ok. all you have to do is cope with those emotions in the healthiest way you can. that’s the only thing that is truly in your hands. don’t let them control or define you, dont judge yourself for being a human. it will all pass. these circumstances are, of course, temporary just like everything is. and always remember that your social anxiety isn’t a reflection of you at all. others aren’t seeing you as negatively as you’re seeing yourself. when you’re talking to people, they’re not thinking you’re weird - they’re worrying about themselves, and about how they’re coming across. don’t fall into the trap of thinking that you haven’t made friends bc of who you are as a person, alright? that’s not the case. the right people will gravitate towards you even if it’s only one or two per year. it all takes time. that being said, if your anxiety is worsening, then i really think you should reach out. there’s no point in trying to handle everything alone. you don’t have to. part of caring for yourself is being able to identify when enough is enough. does your uni have a support team or some counselors you can turn to? or is there a hotline you can call, does your doctor know about your situation? this is a mental illness after all, and sometimes it takes real effort in order to change your perspective. if you find the courage to just let somebody know what’s going on, then that’s already progress to be proud of. that’s the first step. you need to confront why you’re so socially anxious, what you’re so afraid of and how you can overcome those barriers enough to interact with others. a professional will be able to show you how to talk to people and how to calm yourself down when you get stressed out. it won’t go away until you face up to it. you’re 100% not the only person in your school that feels this way - i think everyone you see in the halls is worrying about something similar. keep talking to those girls, though keep them at a distance if they’re treating you like crap, and make an effort with everyone you come across. even if your anxiety is screaming at you on the inside. be open, even if you’re afraid. once you’ve worked on your mental well being a little, it might be a good idea to join some sort of group or extra curricular, just to get yourself out there?? whether it’s writing, or art, or a sport or a fuckin book club - anything you like, look into it. obviously the first time you go, you’ll be terrified, but that’s where all the growth is. and if it goes badly then you’ll never have to go back, it’s entirely your choice. finding people you actually have common ground with can make all the difference, honestly. someday you’ll look back at this period in your life and know exactly why it had to happen. all of the questions you have about the future are only in your head bc you haven’t lived it yet. let it occur, let it happen. and take care of yourself. if you’re doing that, then you’re seriously doing more than good enough babe. i understand that it’s frustrating. but the fact that you’re open to talking to people is a good sign. never feel like you’re undeserving of love and companionship just because it’s hard to find. if you want to accept it, if you’re willing to put in that effort, then it’ll come to you eventually honey. i really hope you’re alright, and i’m sorry i couldn’t be of more help cause i can tell how shitty you feel :( ik it’s not the same but you’ve always got a friend in me and if you ever need to talk, feel free to hmu ok!! sending you all my love.

#anon

[haze99-blog]

I don't expect someone to read this, so I'm just gonna type it here like I'm not doing it on social media. Anyways, I don't even know (or maybe I'm denying it) why I'm writing here when I have my notes with me. I'm not really the type of person who would vocalize her opinion, but writing has been great for me, it helps me to at least try to convey what I have in mind, no matter how hard it is for me to express -- I totally suck at communicating by the way, talking, explaining, expressing, name it and I assure you that I suck at it, maybe I can write but I somehow can't get my point clearly.

I've been just using Tumblr for I think, at max, a month. I absolutely have no idea how things work in here, but here I am anyway. To be absolutely honest, I installed Tumblr bc I sorta want to view Taylor Swift's interaction with my co-fans, but now, I'm sorta using it as my note... and its kinda weird for me, since I'm don't really talk about myself to random people,I don't even share much to my family, so ye.

To the main point, I'm supposed to write this on my note, but here goes...

I've been totally feeling alone lately. Even with humans around me, I still feel utterly alone. And my anxiety (if you can call this anxiety) has been getting worse lately, I can't do things without checking it multiple times, even memorizing a 4-digit numbers takes 5 or more checking just to justify the rightfulness of it to myself and this does not usually happens, bc I usually just glance at it once then its all good since its just a 4-digit number, but now I'm full of uncertainty and I don't trust myself (which is supposedly important). Personally, I badly need someone to talk to (not the ones who's gonna go all over me) bc that's just gonna hit my comfort zones, it'll just worsen this current anxiety. I badly wanted to meet someone new, who would sorta talk with me or sorta understand me, thou I don't think that's possible.

I just deleted one paragraph, cos I don't think people who don't and do know me need to read that, I'm afraid of being misunderstood again. Almost half of my life I've been misunderstood, I don't want to add more to it now. And lastly, if you actually read this from start 'til here, then thank you I don't actually expect someone to read this from start to finish, I'm glad.

[girlbosswtfwasthat]

so yeah Gregory was rlly mean to me and I didn't like that. he called me immature and insinuated I was bad and needed to be kept away from Damien for his own safety, and then when I broke down he told me to my face that he didn't feel bad for me at all. and like okay sure his words were that he only feels empathy for estella which I've told other ppl all the time but abt Damien (which tbh. I dont rlly feel empathy for Damien its just britt britt and Quinn at this point but I love Damien so I protect him when he gets hurt like I would for you two anyways.) but like that was still mean. he took away my social circle and when I all but started to sob over the phone he told me to my face that he did not give a shit and that there was no point in even trying to beg. I dont expect him to know this bc I dont tell anyone but being restricted from accessing my friends is a major trigger for me bc my parents would like. indefinitely confiscate all my electronics right when I was getting to that age of talking strangers off the ledge every night on discord, as chronically online children do so it became a major point of anxiety for me and Gregory kicking me out of the friend server really really worsened that a lot but I was too scared and upset to tell him especially bc I didn't want to come off as guilt tripping or manipulative bc I'd already done so much harm I did not need to stray into emotional abuse territory

[sweetcatastrophex]

also this is part 1  notable parts i’d like to bring attention to:  —3:00~ therapy, self-reflection and journaling helps flesh the whole thing out, organize it in your head, make sense of it, move on from it and heal.  —3:20~ “this kid, when you meet him, he just seems so nice and the way he presents himself is honest, caring and loving.” i relate to this part, when she says she convinced herself that he wasn’t manipulative and emotionally abusive when he was.  —3:50~ “i allowed myself to be in this situation.” i relate to that. “a man is gonna do what you allow.” —4:40~ he influenced her do things out of character for her. she asked to see his phone when that’s not who she is. i relate to that. she said he pushed her to a point where she was somebody she wasn’t, and i relate to that too. losing your sense of self, your sense of identity. and he preyed on her weaknesses and vulnerability.  —5:28~ it’s embarrassing but it was a learning experience. and it’s important to share your story and spread awareness for other victimized women. —12:28~ he told her he made up the story of his tinder friend trying to kiss him at a party to make gabby jealous. because he felt insecure about her having so many guy friends. “he wanted me to feel like he had options too.” even though originally he said she tried to kiss him. “i didn’t want to break up with somebody just bc of something they were describing as them acting out of being insecure.”  —14:10~ he told people that they weren’t dating even though they were. he wanted to hold hands, go on dates, cuddle, hook up, all of it. i relate to that.  —17:13~ she makes excuses for his lies, justifies them bc she cares about him. i relate. then she says she’s out of breath after punching her stuffed animal. also relate to that. i’m reminded of the countless times we’ve raised our voices in public and made a scene. i’m reminded of the time he had me screaming at him in the library and i looked crazy to the people around us who didn’t understand the context/scenario.  i’m also reminded of the times — not time — he had a breakdown at the train station when i would try to go home. you’d get so caught up in the conversations and arguments that you wouldn’t even realize you were being irrational. especially when you care about that person and you’re wearing rose-colored glasses.  —20:08~ “i noticed that my declining mental state started improving when he wasn’t a part of my life.” i relate to that. “us together was toxic.” agreed. we worsened each other’s mental problems like anxiety. always playing mind games. always texting.  —21:35~ i relate to this. he is relentlessly texting her and asking to see her in person. it’s easier to manipulate someone when you’re with them in person. he kept prodding to go on another date and kept promising that things would go well, and they didn’t. i relate to that. even on simple dates like going to the hamptons and going to the cup coffee shop he turned them into these horrible fights. at the coffee shop we befriended a lovely couple our age and later fought about a story about a relationship the guy told us. in the hamptons, or, rather, on the way to the hamptons, we got into a fight and he ended up pulling over to the side of the highway, grabbed my neck in a chokehold and pushed my head up against the car window. then kicked me out of his car so i was on the side of the road in the tall grass probably getting ticks attached to me. oh and it was my birthday. (i turned 23.)  22:41~ he flips things around to make it seem like it was her fault. i relate. he’s delusional and never accepts any responsibility. same with my ex. he would make it seem like certain things were her idea when they were really his idea but he felt guilty. also isolating me from his friends would sometimes be a thing bc god knows what he was telling them about where our relationship was at.  26:17~ she says she was looking for something to be the last straw bc she’s the kind of person who will stay in a person’s life if they keep asking bc they’re hurting, even though it hurts her. i relaaaate. and they take advantage of that. she needed something she couldn’t forgive. he pulled her weaknesses out of her and used them against her.  31:50~ he said he likes when she cries bc it feels like she needs him. i’ll never forget when my ex said i look pretty when i cry. or something like that. major red flag. don’t normal people say they hate seeing you cry bc it means you’re sad? yeah.  33:40~ “if you don’t trust someone to the point where you say let me see your phone, you need to break up with that person.” all the social media games is sooo relatable. and how he would use his ex to make me jealous bc he knew it bothered me. and how he would open up to her to make her open up to him. they tell us to do that as journalists — to share something personal so the other person will feel comfortable doing so in return.  35:28~ his claims seemed like projection. also relate to this. he told his friends she would kill herself if he wasn’t in her life which was a lie and assuming the really personal thing she doesn’t want to share about him is most likely that he was suicidal or whatever it was, he was projecting. he would also gaslight her and make her feel like she was wrong. relate. 

#video #youtube #ref #mental abuse #emotional abuse #gabbie #gabbie hanna #emotionally abusive #mentally abusive #abusive relationship #tw #trigger warning #abuse #abusive

[terra-kat]

Things I need:

Someone to care for and watch over me as they would a child

I’m mature and a legal adult and they need to not patronize me, and keep in mind that I can make decisions for myself as an adult would.

However, my executive functioning level, and the level of care and attention I need, matches that of a younger child’s. I really need this care, and I’m literally dying without it.

(And of course they need to not be a huge jerk. They also need to be someone who doesn’t overstimulate me: no dry mouths / gum chewing / consistent wet-sounding sounds, not someone who gestures a lot, not someone who has a loud speaking voice.)

A safe classroom environment (if I were to attend school)

No harsh lights, or consistent loud noises. No chewing gum or eating food!! A teacher who doesn’t wag their finger or set off my over-stimulation. As few miso* triggers as possible.

A teacher who is soft and gentle and understanding. Who will work with me and understand when I can not do something (or can not do it while maintaining the ability to do everything else I need to do).

Simple, big, easy-to-understand text. A friendly and comforting classroom, like the ones you see in elementary schools, not the ones you’d see in colleges.

Work that doesn’t move at a ridiculously fast pace, and not too much homework to handle! Please, can I just have an elementary-classroom-type setting and pace, with the only difference being more advanced subject matter, a quieter setting, and fewer students?

Resources that will help me leave the house

Currently I’m unable to leave the house most of the time except for the occasional walk, and that has left me very isolated, lonely, and has worsened my depression.

Everything is too loud, people are harsh and scary and predatory and expect too much out of me, and I can’t stand to be around most people due to my misophonia and misokinesia. (My social anxiety is pretty bad too, but I’m able to manage that.)

But I really need a set schedule that can get me out of the house and around other people. But I can’t handle it if I’m constantly having my miso* disorders triggered, or having people yell at me for being triggered.

A place that will allow me to engage in my special interest

I can not stress the importance of this, holy shit.

The main reason why I had so much trouble leaving my last school was because of Theatre Class: it was a roomy classroom with a cool teacher and only 7 other kids (and eventually 6, which was good bc the one who left was the one who always snacked).

We would learn about things and do activities that would enable me to include my special interest, and required me to talk about my special interest!! And the teacher would get interested and ask questions, too!!

I cried a lot having to leave that class behind.

But the point is, I really need an environment that will allow me to incorporate my interests and have other people interact with them in some way / ask questions about it.

(My special interests are: a role-play I’m in, OCs in general, neurodivergency, art/drawing/animation, and the Japanese language. “Art” also includes drama, creative writing, music etc. and I enjoy all those a lot despite drawing being my main focus.)

#personal #actuallyautistic #putting this in the tag just in case anyone knows some resources #misophonia #misokinesia #jerith jitters