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nakhiphop · 3 years

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how john calvin helped me figure out that i have obessive-compulsive disorder

Drowning. Dying alone. Small holes grouped together. We all have a “worst fear.” Mine? Being forsaken by God.

Among the cornerstones of Christian doctrine is the concept of “salvation,” or the state of being pardoned from the consequences of sin- the direst being separation from God. The equation is simple: the saved enjoy Heaven, the unsaved go to Hell. Though the Bible partly alludes to “Hell” as a place, I personally think the essence of Hell is God’s absence. In other words, Hell is where God isn’t (and conversely, Heaven is where God is).

Since the beginning of my faith journey, I’ve always feared that my faith was phony, or I mistakenly equated an emotional spiritual experience as evidence of salvation (it isn’t). Essentially, I was afraid of being unsaved… or worse, forsaken by God due to all my sinning. The sermons I remember most are based on precautionary Bible stories suggesting that God allows the heart to become hardened by habitual and intentional sin (Exod. 7:3, Rom. 1:28)- a habitual and intentional sinning that I believed I was guilty of.

“How could a real believer continue to look at pornography?” “How can a Christian have such cruel intentions?” “How could a regenerate mind still harbor thoughts of unspeakable depravity?” I’ve examined the evidence at every thinkable angle. And the more I assess and reassess the fruits of my living, I notice deeper corruption with every inspection, fortifying my conclusion: despite my many failed attempts at repentance, I’m no Christian. God has forsaken me. I’m damned.

For those of you unfamiliar with the contemporary Christian worship service format, there is often designated periods of time in which the speaker invites the non-believing attendees in the audience to dedicate their lives to Christ. In some churches, the speaker invites the non-believer to physically stand at the foot of the stage, heightening the symbolic impact and solemnity of the moment (there’s a lot of other reasons why we do this, but that’s for later). This “altar call” signifies the moment(s) of transformation. The moment(s) the soul is reborn. The moment(s) of salvation.

A Billy Graham Crusade, Greg Laurie’s Crusades, like two or three different youth summer camps… I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone up to the altar to dedicate my life to Christ.

Throughout my journey, I have discussed with every spiritual mentor my persistent fears of being unsaved. Though each of them had their unique style about them, every response was sewn with a common thread: I need to accept God’s grace.

“Grace,” you ask? Christian “grace” is receiving from God any good thing that is undeserved, unearned, and unmerited. For example, the salvation I was speaking of earlier is an act of God’s grace; in other words, being “saved” is a gift of God- no particular action that I can (or cannot) do makes me worthy (or unworthy) of God pardoning my sins (Eph. 2). Through gentle counsel, I gradually discovered that my perception of God might be contorted, and I have adopted illegitimate conditions of salvation contingent upon moral performance (or lack thereof). “Legalism,” they call it. And for Christians, that’s baaaaad.

Though this truth made sense in my head, I still doubted my salvation and continued to reevaluate my life, respond to every altar call, repeat every sinner’s prayer, fast, pray... nothing worked. I often heard that a “peace that surpasses all understanding” is a sign of God’s exploits. I frankly don’t even know what peace means- can’t say I ever felt it. Ever. What’s wrong with me?!

In my mid-20’s, I was introduced to the Reformed Theology of the Protestant Reformation and the writings of John Calvin and his contemporaries. Since sentience, I was inculcated with Christian ideas so though discovering nothing “new” about God through the eyes of the Reformers, I believe I began to see aspects of God more correctly. Aspects such as God’s sovereignty, His elect, His predestination- concepts I previously thought little of. However, in exploring this new perspective, the pivotal realization that God’s absolute sovereignty could mean that God ultimately decides who goes to Heaven or Hell, made me uneasy. I have even heard statements to the effect of: “whoever God saves, He will save, no matter what that man does.” This, in Calvin’s terms, is called “irresistible grace.”

To my devastation, this also implies that whoever God doesn’t choose to save cannot be saved (no matter what he does), like Esau who cried bitterly but was unable to repent (Heb 12:17). I believed that this explained my perpetual feelings of being unsaved: perhaps I was just not destined to be saved. No matter what I did. I can’t be saved. It was God’s plan since the beginning to forsake me.

(Sorry in advance) This skewed interpretation really ****ed me up. My mid and late twenties was the darkest night of my soul, spawning crippling seasons of debilitating paranoia, and brooding creative projects (“I don’t need your help I’ll be okay. You’re too late to save me anyway.”). I pleaded for God while simultaneously believing that His face was turned away. In this perceived absence, I felt I was truly in Hell.

In 2020, I had somewhat of a psychiatric breakdown. The simultaneous resurfacing of past paranoias, the unravelling of new heartbreak, and a looming sentiment of doom created a perfect storm of hopelessness. I began to manifest profound physical symptoms like unilateral weakness, clonus and fasciculations, insomnia, and seemingly progressive loss of muscle function. My knowledge as a nursing instructor abetted catastrophic self-diagnoses and obsessive fixations upon my symptoms, convincing me that I was literally dying in August of 2020. Social media fueled my panic, forcing me to abandon my online networks and isolate from the world. But while I was alone, I did nothing but think and re-think. Examine and re-examine. Assess and re-assess. I didn’t sleep much.

*Takes a deep breath* Let’s skip ahead. Not long ago, I decided to seek therapy. In therapy, I discovered something that would change my life.

I strongly fit the criteria for obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD).

There are different variations (I have specific ones I won’t get into now) but the gist of OCD is the alternation of “obsessions” and “compulsions.” An obsession is a repeated, intrusive thought. A compulsion is performing a certain action in response to the thought. Like many people, when I think of OCD, I think of irrational fears of asymmetry and disorganization, a fear of contamination or uncleanliness, or peculiar habits like checking the stove ten times before leaving the house. Then it hit me…

Wait. That IS me.

But there’s more to it. A compulsion to an obsessive thought doesn’t necessarily mean a physical action. It could be a mental action- in other words, certain thoughts (or “triggers”) invoke certain mental responses. For example, in the “religious” or “moral OCD” subtype, whenever a person commits a morally reprehensible act, their mental response is the crippling fear that they have angered a deity (or questioning their salvation), and their physical response could be persistent, ritualistic behaviors of absolution (like confessing sins to a priest, reciting religious incantations, participating in religious ceremonies [like altar calls]). Then it hit me…

Wait. That IS me.

Suddenly, the agony of being unsaved since a youth, my tireless self-diagnosing and fear of imminent doom, my habit of checking doors, lights, air-conditioners, faucets, and burner controls several times before leaving the house, my meticulous perfectionism and punctuality, my obsession for cleanliness and organization, my strict minimalism, and a slew of other unmentionable problems that causes me to overthink, catastrophize, and agonize… it all makes perfect sense now. I’ve had OCD since I was kid.

With this new discovery, I realize that I am saved. I do believe I am swallowed by God’s grace! But my obsessive-compulsive tendencies have been berating me since the beginning. There’s still a lot I need to figure out. My journey has only begun.

Before I wrap this up, this discovery opens major questions. I would love to hear your opinions:

To what extent (if any) can mental health disorders be categorized as “spiritual warfare?”

Why do some sects of Christianity tend to diminish the plight of mental health disorders?

Why are mental health disorders especially stigmatized among some Asian-American Christians?

Aaaaand that’s how John Calvin exposed my OCD. Now you know the story behind “faith and paranoia.”

nak.

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angst-king · 3 years

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Stuck in this Static Void pt 6

(TW: mention of hanging) Fuyumi had done her packing while Enji had been detained. She’d also found herself a place to stay that could keep her safe from Enji. She was bringing Shouto’s suitcase in to be checked to make sure she packed items that wouldn’t be taken away from Shouto. “I think all of these will pass the bag check. So are you already Shouto?” Asked the doctor, Shouto had been allowed to dress in his casual clothes once his iv’s were taken out and his arms were rebandaged. He had on jeans, a white t-shirt and a zip up jacket that was a little over sized and tennis shoes with straps no laces. Nodding, Shouto looked at his brother and sister with a small smile. They both embraced him warmly, one sibling on his left, the other on his right. “We love you so much Shouto, we will try and visit as much as we can alright.” Spoke Fuyumi who brushed her fingers through his hair. “Yeah we’ll try and find time okay, you just focus on getting better and we’ll try and find a way to keep you away from him” Natsuo vowed while nuzzling his younger brother sweetly, Shouto replied with a quiet “Okay, just be careful..please.” He was still obviously worried for his sibling’s safety hoping his father wouldn’t seek revenge but. They all knew how ambitious Enji could be when he wanted something. “We will Shouto, we promise we’ll be careful.” Fuyumi reassures him with a loving smile as Natsuo pats his head.

The paramedics came over with a bed ready to take Shouto. He’s helped onto the bed after his last goodbye and he’s whisked away into the ambulance that is destined for the psych ward. Taking Shouto’s bag they put it next to his gurney and strap it down to keep it from sliding around while Shouto lays on the cot. The ride is silent and it gives Shouto time to think. ‘What medications would they put me on?’ ‘Will they watch me shower….like come in the bathroom with me?’ ‘Will they be in the room while I change?’ ‘Will I have a roommate?’ ‘Will I have to talk to them? Probably not, I hope I don’t. I don’t need to make friends, I need to get in there, get better as quickly as possible and get out.’ ‘How am I gonna do classwork? I’ll fall way behind if I can’t complete my assignments.’ The more the thought the quicker time went by and soon. He was interrupted by the doors of the ambulance opening. He was helped down from the ambulance and down its small ramp. One paramedic followed him up to the door, opening it for him and letting him inside.

It looked like the waiting room of an urgent care, cream colored walls in the corner there was a desk with a nurse sitting behind it, three major hallways leading towards many others. There were chairs and small benches along the walls of the main entrance towards the front desk. Pamphlets neatly placed on small tables between the benches with small summaries of who knows what and they seem to be untouched. The paramedic who escorted Todoroki inside told him to take a seat while he went to talk to the nurse. Sitting down Todoroki relaxed into the seat, it really was setting in that he was being admitted into a psychiatric hospital. It was really setting in that he was getting away from his horrible excuse of a father, and that...he was gonna go through the same thing his mother had. But maybe he’d turn out better, maybe he’d turn out completely fine? Maybe he won't even be here that long? Maybe-Oh here comes the nurse, she walks over and kneels down a little.

“Hello you must be Todoroki Shouto, hi I’m Jitkimi, I am one of the nurses on the floor and will be taking you to your room.” Looking up at the woman who introduced herself he listened tentatively. “O-okay then” “Now I’m just going to warn you, you will have a roommate, both of you actually new to the psych ward...well your roommate has been here for a week but in a different wing. Still a doctor will come in to you both and will explain to you the rules of the psych ward and the schedules. Now why don’t we get you to your room.” She says as an invitation for the peppermint haired boy to follow her lead. Getting to his feet, Shouto nods and grabs his suitcase of items.

She guides him down a hallway that’s blue in color with various shades of the hue. As he walked he noticed many doors that were spaced out like apartments, they had the names of their patients. Five sets of doors that were opened not all the way but cracked open enough to poke your head in. Five sets down and Jitkimi stops at the sixth set of doors, she knocks on the one to her left. Even though it was partially opened she knocked which showed she had some sort of decency. “Hello Mr Midoriya, I’m coming in with your roommate.” She warns before opening the door completely.

The room was a little bit better than what Todoroki assumed it would look like.

It had two beds separated by a large cubby-like night stand with four cubbies and charging ports for devices they’d been permitted to have. On his roommate’s side there was a large window that had blinds that could be pulled by a turning stick. There are duplicates of desks, and closets, one for each person. Of course the desk had chairs and the closets weren’t huge but it's not like they’d need something too big right? The beds were plain, no back board but the base was a completely smoothed wooden bottom. The floor was a series of light blue tiles like the hallways. The bathroom door was left open and Todoroki took note of the top of the door being slanted off. He was confused as to why that was but had a feeling that he knew why.

Sitting up a boy with a mess of dark, mossy green and black hair, and sunken in matching colored eyes stared at him tiredly. He was wearing headphones that he’d slipped off his head to show he’d acknowledged the presence of Shouto and Jitkimi. Jitkimi took this as the cue to introduce the two. “Izuku, this is Todoroki Shouto. Shouto, this is Midoriya Izuku.” Izuku gives a shy wave to him, Shouto just gives a small nod to him. “Go on and get yourself settled in, the doctor should be in soon the both of you will meet with them and will talk about rules and routines and such. There are emergency call buttons around the room in case of emergencies like one of you having an anxiety attack or something…I'm gonna leave you alone now” Jitkimi says soon leaving the boys alone only closing the door a little bit still leaving it the majority open.

Making quick work of himself he organizes his belongings, he was a little surprised to find a small tablet in the bag with a short charging cord. Still he appreciated it, and went on exploring the bathroom and deciding to keep his body products in the closet, there wasn’t anywhere to put them in the bathroom anyway. He went back to his bed and went through his suit case finding a comforter and a soft fuzzy blanket. Running his hands along the fabric, it felt so warm and inviting, he was tempted to wrap himself up in it. He was still tired, drained from his short trip here, exhausted from the weight of depression holding him down.

Not only did he feel the weight of his depression but he also felt that someone was staring at him. He felt a pair of eyes watching his every move, and he knew there was only one person in his room. Looking up at his roommate from his position on the floor from his suitcase he catched Midoriya watching him. Todoroki delivered a glare, why was he watching him? Did he want something? Did he want to be friends or something? If so then that wouldn’t work, he wasn’t here to make friends, he was here to get better and out as soon as possible.

“What do you want?” He asked, making the other pale a bit, the smaller was about to open his mouth but was interrupted as Todoroki got to his feet. “Look, we don’t have to talk, and we’re not going to be friends. Cause I’m not here for that. I want to just get in and get out as fast as I can. So just keep to yourself and whatever is wrong with you and I’ll keep to myself.” It came out sounding rather harsh and made Izuku freeze up, as if answering to a strict boss at work, he silently nodded. Sighing Todoroki goes back to unpacking which didn’t take long. As soon as he was done there was a knock on the door and then the doctor walked in. Todoroki’s eyes immediately darted towards him. “Hello, you must be our new patients here, Midoriya Izuku, and Todoroki Shouto?” They nod at the same time, another man comes in, he has messy black hair that is put up into a half ponytail leaving some of it down around his shoulders. He has a scar underneath his left eye lid just above his cheek bone. He’s a bit pale and his eyes held an exhausted look as if this man had hardly slept in days. His lips couldn’t hold a smile but he still had some sort of warmth to him. “Hello I’m doctor Diasuki, this is Mr Aizawa, he will be your 1-1 nurse. He will check on you during showers, nights, and during the day. You will also have another 1-1 nurse. His name is Toshinori, he isn’t here today but will be here soon.” As Dr Diasuki spoke the boys were quiet, their eyes remained on him giving him their full attention.

“We have rules here and we have reasons for the rules especially considering you guys are on 1-1 right now. Your door must remain open, it doesn’t have to be wide open but, enough for a nurse to peek in and check. When you are going to take showers or use the bathroom, you are welcome to close the bathroom door. The only reason that door is allowed to be closed is because it does not have a lock and. That large cut out slant over there allows a staff member to be able to check in on you without having to open the door.”

The doctor continues to explain more things, explaining that they will have a schedule to follow throughout the day. That they will have different types of therapy offered to them along with normal therapy sessions and groups. “You also will have your vitals taken daily at least three times a day. Mornings, afternoons, and nights. That will usually happen after medications are taken. Getting your vitals checked is just your basic, blood pressure test, temperature, heart and breathing check. For some it may include checking your blood sugar, weigh-ins. Though weigh-ins for those who need it, like you Midoriya will get that twice a week and as you make progress that will soon be downgraded to once a week.” Midoriya blushes as he’s pointed out but doesn’t say a word. More rules and things are explained to the boys until over the PA system a soft chiming sound rings. Midoriya jumps, seeming startled but the doctor explains. “Calm down kid, it's just the PA bell, it's dinner time right now. Come on, we'll show you to the cafeteria.” Quickly Izuku got off his bed to go with the adults while Shouto tiredly got off of bed.

Dr Diasuki opens the door, Aizawa is the first one out with the two boys close behind him and the doctor follows suit behind them. As they walked Diasuki asked the boys questions, some both could answer, some were targeted towards them as individuals. “Midoriya, do you still have your feeding tube?” Izuku quickly answers “y-yes” “You’ve been in the ED for a week, you’re still on a liquid calorie diet?” “mhm” “Alright so I assume you know what you’re getting for dinner?” “y-yes” “That’s good, have you been put on medication yet?” “I-I...um..” Izuku was starting to get anxious about being questioned and was having a hard time getting his words out, afraid of what the reaction would be. Aizawa senses this and stops. He turns around to face the teen and says in a soft voice. “Look kid no need to get scared, now just answer the question.” Izuku just shook his head and quietly said “Th-they haven’t y-y-yet, s-sorry.” “Hey don’t be sorry Izuku, this isn’t something you’ve done. It's not like you have any control over that. They usually aren’t this slow in medicating patients.” The doctor mutters the last part as if thinking out loud before he speaks more directly to Izuku. “If they don’t have anything prescribed to you by Sunday let someone know okay.” Todoroki was next “Also Shouto if you’re not talked to by a psychiatrist or psychologist by monday don’t hesitate to ask Aizawa or Toshinori who can see if they can get you in.” “okay, thanks''

The walk to the cafeteria wasn’t too far, and boy was it big! It looked like a large high school cafeteria filled with kids of different ages. At the front there serving stations and cafeteria assistants, nurses were scattered about to keep the chaos to a minimum. “Alright boys go ahead grab something to eat and find a table. I’ll see you around sometime.” Dr Diasuki says before leaving Aizawa with the two boys who look around. Sighing Shouta starts walking towards the serving stations. “Come on you two, lets get dinner,” Although Todoroki didn’t feel hungry at all he listened and went with Midoriya and their nurse. Waiting in line Todoroki kept his guard up in case something went down. He could see how fidgety Midoriya was, he took more notice of his features.

He was still a sickly pale color, even if he was on a liquid diet, he shouldn’t be sick looking. There were purple-is grey rings under his eyes, his tired eyes that held an anxious look in them. His lips were pasty and being nibbled on, his teeth pinning down his lower lip. The pants Izuku had on really showed how thin he was. His bony fingers grasping tightly onto the cuffs of his sweater making paws out of them. As well as the feeding tube that dangled from behind his ear and above his shoulder.

The line didn’t take too long, and soon the three of them were next in line. Midoriya knew what he needed to get, so he grabbed a bottle of juice then waited for Todoroki and Aizawa. Even seeing the food in front of him, Todoroki couldn’t feel hunger but. He knew he had to eat, so he got a couple of things to satisfy the nurse and keep concern low. They found a table and sat down together, the table was quiet as Aizawa could tell that his boys didn’t seem to be conversation makers and. This was their first day in the psych ward unit so he was rather patient. Todoroki forced down what he’d gotten for dinner, it was good but he just didn’t care. Sitting at the table without the worry of being screamed at did make him happy.

After dinner Aizawa walks the boys out of the cafeteria and leads them down to a larger room filled with kids and teens. “This is more of a lounge area and a place to hang out during free times after meals. It's to monitor you guys in a less invasive way and allow you to interact with people. Also it keeps anorexic patients from trying to go and purge what they eat.” He states the last part bluntly making Izuku blush but he still says nothing, keeping his hands in his pockets as they walk. “You’ll only be there for maybe only thirty minutes to an hour.” Izuku nods and goes to find a place to sit, Todoroki is a little more awkward but he goes to do the same.

Izuku sits himself on the floor, he brings his knees to his chest getting himself comfortable. The room wasn’t quiet yet it wasn’t unbearably loud. Still being around people, Izuku was on edge and uneasy. Arms wrapped to keep himself as small as possible, hoping no one were to notice him. Izuku would rather be invisible to the world than be noticed. Being noticed was never usually a good thing so keeping to himself and remaining alone should get him through this. Izuku didn’t have anything to distract himself with though, no tablet, no pencil or paper. He just sat there with a tired yet blank expression on his face. Time went by slowly, it felt like they had been there for hours when they’d only been there for a few minutes. They both just sat there, looking around and watching others interact or do the same thing they were doing, or even do their own activities. This room was orange and blue, with other colors that weren’t the main focus.There were kids playing board games, cards, or just talking, or even keeping to themselves with their own agenda. Izuku struggled to interact with people out of fear and so he’d much rather keep to himself even if he wanted friends, he knew that wish was a selfish and suicidal one. Shouto never was very social at all, he didn’t really know how to interact with kids his age after a long history of abuse. He was never allowed to play with any of the kids in school, or after school, it was focusing on studies and being Enji’s strong protege. So interacting with people was out of the question, he’d rather observe those around him besides he’s not here for friends anyway.

Todoroki noticed his roommate didn’t interact with anyone either, and he also was rather curious as to why the boy had a feeding tube and was on a liquid diet. It must be because of how skinny he was and they were trying to re-feed him without hurting him, yet. Why did he only have juice at dinner? He consumed that by mouth so why not just give him a liquid substitube drink? Why was he even thinking about his roommate’s needs, they weren’t his concerns or business. Maybe he was just bored? Well finally the time had come where Aizawa arrived and came over “hey, let's go back to your room.” He’s rather quiet but both boys can hear him, so they get up from their spot in the room and head over to Aizawa. Following the man together back to their room, back down the multicolored hallways that soon became different hues of blue once more. Blue, the color of the sky, water, blue sometimes represented sadness, it also represented freeness yet. To the boys blue was their hallway, these blue walls would be their home whether they liked it or not.

In their room Todoroki saw an IV pole next to Izuku’s bed, it held a small machine on it and next to it was a cart. Todoroki didn’t have any time to truly question this when Aizawa suddenly asked “Alright, who's taking a shower tonight?” Todoroki raised his hand, he usually took his showers during the day but he felt gross from not showering much at the medical hospital. “Alright then, Midoriya you showered this morning right?” Izuku didn’t even look at Aizawa and just nodded. Oh great Midoriya is a morning showerer too?! Another thing Todoroki and he were gonna have to deal with. Todoroki was hoping for little interaction with this guy but if they keep clashing with schedules they might have to. “Todoroki, why don’t you get into the shower take care of all your bathroom needs, then Izuku since he will shower in the morning.” Todoroki just sighed and agreed, grabbing some pajama clothes, a tooth brush, tooth paste, and hair brush, he headed to the bathroom wordlessly.

Which left Izuku and Aizawa but well, Aizawa had to stand guard of Todoroki while he was in the bathroom. Todoroki knew the other had to somewhat ‘watch him shower’ yet Aizawa didn’t stare at him through the open door, more so he would watch the other every so few seconds before looking at Midoriya who was changing into his own Pajamas in the corner. Either way neither boy tried to do anything to harm themselves while doing either activity. The shower was special to say the least, it wasn’t a normal shower. It didn’t have a true shower head, more like a rounded spout system like shower that wasn’t very big yet did produce a good flow of water. The lack of a real shower curtain set was brought to Shouto’s attention when he accidentally took it down while getting in, the shower curtains were held up by magnets. Hearing the clattering sound Aizawa looked over seeing an apologetic boy looking at him bashfully. “It's fine” The man sighed “you just have to push the magnets back to the ceiling….can you reach?” Aizawa asked as he stood up, yet was a little surprised that Todoroki could put the curtain back up, he wasn’t all that tall, then again the ceiling wasn’t all that high either. So now Todoroki could continue his shower, closing the curtain was rather see through for the adult who never watched for too long since he had another patient to look after.

Shouto wasn’t a person to really bask in the shower even if it felt great to see the hot water against his skin that felt so oily and gross from not being able to properly clean himself since his medical admission. The soap washing those gross disgusting feelings away would be a dream come true, yet it did wash away the sticky from the bandages during his hospital stay. When he got out, he quickly dried off and washed his face and brushed his teeth. He decided he’d brush his hair when he was in their room. He didn’t need to take up anymore of his roommates time being in the bathroom, he tried to be a considerate roommate.

When he got out, Midoirya grabbed what he needed and quickly went in. Shouta spoke to Izuku and Shouto as they continued their nightly routine, “Izuku once you’re done I’m gonna set your feeds, then I’ll check your guys' vitals.” Izuku quietly nodded and Shouto gave an “okay then” as he brushed out his wet hair. Izuku only had to brush his teeth, and wash his face. So he was done quicker than Shouto, getting out of the bathroom, he heads over to his bed and goes through one of the cubbies where his art entertainment stuff was. Sitting his stuff out onto his bed he organised everything while Aizawa got started on Izuku’s feeds. Going through the car Aizawa grabbed a feed bag, one can of meal real placement ‘drink’ and one can of electrolyte replacement. Taking off the blue seal of the feed bag, Aizawa then opens the cans and pours them into a the small feed bag, mixing them together he closes the bag and hangs it up connecting it to the small machine before priming the pump until it was ready to connect to Midoriya’s feeding tube. Once it was hooked up Aizawa adjusted the IV pole’s placement before going through the medcart and then bringing it to the between area of Shouto and Izuku’s beds.

Mr Aizawa started checking vitals, he had everything he needed on the medcart to do it. It was like when you go to the doctor and the nurse checks you over with the thermometer, then the heart rate finger clamps, then he listens to breathing, before taking blood pressure. It was a very long process, just a little awkward seeing as they were mainly silent during this but. It was fine, there wasn’t really much to be said. Izuku did flinch a couple of times but he was okay after a little bit of reassurance. Aizawa was very patient with Izuku seeing as he seemed to have a little more difficulty with being around people than Shouto.

Once vitals were done Aizawa told the boys that lights would be out at around 10:30. It was only 9 oclock by now so this gave them free time to settle in and relax. Leaving the boys to their own devices, Izuku went back to drawing, he was using his tablet for a reference picture of something he was drawing, he seemed to be rather focused. While Shouto just played on his tablet, it had a few games on it which did preoccupy the red and white haired boy for a while but. It still wasn’t enough to last him the whole duration, yet he wasn’t all that tired. He couldn’t help but watch his roommate. He didn’t understand why his eyes always wandered towards Izuku, maybe it was because he’d never been able to be alone with someone his age and allowed to interact with someone? Maybe he wanted to talk to Izuku but he didn’t know how to? Maybe he didn’t wanna try and make friends only to find out the other would take advantage of him? Whatever the reason was, Todoroki didn’t take his eyes off of Midoriya who sketched away in his book.

Those tired emerald eyes went from the screen to the paper as his hands scribbled and flowed across the page with his pencil. Wondering what the other was drawing, Shouto was close to asking the other but, then he remembered what he’d said earlier to the boy about not having to talk to each other, and not making friends. Maybe he was being a little cold towards Izuku who hardly could say a word to anyone? But it was too late now, he may have already scared his roommate away.

#my psych academia #bnha psychward tododeku #depressed todoroki #depressed deku

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eccl3ctic0n3 · 3 years

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This Is My Personal Testimony of How God Found Me When I Was Lost.

I Am A Witness and My Testimony is of Jesus Christ the living Word of God

What you FEEL and what you THINK are valid and extremely powerful as these are the things you BELIEVE to be TRUTH thus this is your REALITY!

This is your belief system. Unless you suffer from mental illness therapy and counseling can be very helpful. Just talking about it and getting it off your chest is therapeutic in itself. No matter if it is a friend or a therapists getting things out instead of bottling them up and holding them in is great relief.

I was diagnosed bipolar type I when I was 23 years old. I am 41 now and it has only been in the last 5 years that I have been able to overcome, heal, grow, and experience breakthrough.

Traumatic experiences such as verbal, mental, emotional, physical, or sexual abuse to losing a loved one or friend has a lifelong affect. Therapy and medicine are just tools to help you and give you the skills, knowledge, and some understanding, so you can cope and learn how to manage with the pain and symptoms that remain.

I don't know who needs to hear this but I am telling you from 18 years of personal experience. Actually, 41 years as its only been 18 since I began treatment. Where doctors and medicine failed me for 13 years God did not fail me. I got lab ratted on all that time with powerful psychiatric medications. I spiraled out of control and my behavior landed me in the psychiatric ward of prison in the infirmary. 10 weeks I was locked in solitary confinement on 24 hour lock. I was deemed incompetent and unfit to stand trial. I was looking at two F1 Felonies with sentences from 5-99 years each. For 10 weeks I literally lost my mind and was experiencing full blown psychosis. It was in an instant that God found me and restored me to sanity. I did not find God. He found me.

I was lost and could not tell the difference between my dreams and reality. I slept in 15 minute intervals. In one dream I dreamt that I murdered my two children. I bashed my daughters head into the wall. My reality was this place I was in where no other person is visible was like a purgatory and I was awaiting my judgment to be thrown into hell.

I was on my knees in my boxers bleeding from my head and knuckles. I was head butting and punching the walls. As I was on my knees I was singing, ''My Girl, My Girl, Talkin Bout, My Girl." I was only thinking of my daughter and that I was never going to see her again.

The guy in a cell next to me screamed, " Shut the fuck up!" I just screamed back and told him to come on over and shut me up. What was he going to do we are in solitary confinement. 😅

I lost track of time and I was still singing and I began to cry out to God. Literally bawling and begging I screamed for God to help me. Don't you know the guy who cursed me came to my door and asked me to call his momma for him to bail him out. I laughed and said ain't you the same mother fucker who told me to shut up? Before he answered I just said whatever! Just write the number on a piece of paper and slide it under my door and I will get to it.

Mind you that for those 10 weeks I could not even read or use the telephone because I just didn't know how. The hands on the clock just spun round and round. Still on my knees sobbing I noticed the piece of paper slide under my door. I forgot all about it and I couldn't read or use a phone anyway. But I looked closer and I seen the red writing. This guy tore the last page of his bible out to write the number on. The red writing just caught my eyes and the first thing I seen was this. Revelations 22:16 I Jesus, have sent My angel to you to testify in the churches. I am the Root and Offspring of David, the Bright and Morning Star. As fast as you could snap your fingers I realized that I could read first of all. I then noticed I felt completely normal. I was just wondering wtf am I doing in my boxers bleeding on this floor? 😅 I got up took a shower and cleaned up. The guard came by and stopped giving me a strange look and asked if I was ok. I just said Im fine Im waiting on lunch its almost noon. I could read the time cause the hands stopped spinning.

Finally I got to use the phone and I called home and asked how long I was there. I said 2 weeks? My mom said you been there almost 3 months. I did 6 months and got both charges dropped down to a misdemeanor and 4 years probation. 2 years was deferred. I literally signed out of jail on a PR Bond. No fines, fees, or court costs at all.

That was 5 years ago in October. I never could forget or deny what happened. I knew immediately what the verse meant and what I was told to do. So I have done it this entire time everyday almost on social media.

I had never read a bible before and I was far away from God. I was really on the fence about the whole Jesus thing. What I know now and I knew at that moment was this. Jesus is God! He is the Father, the Son of God, and the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of God and of Christ. There is only one. Omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, and Sovereign Lord over all of creation.

I believe the words of the verse exactly for what they said. He sent an angel to me which is a ministering spirit and a messenger. I got the message loud and clear. So I do exactly as He has told me to.

It has been 5 years and I have not even had a cold. My doctor is weaning me off medications. It was by no means an easy 5 years at all. I suffered with overcoming addiction and the mental illness symptoms I was and still am learning to cope and manage.

There is one thing I learned in addition to all these things since then in talk therapy. I was raised by two narcissistic, one mentally ill, and completely abusive except sexually.

After all those years and all those medications and numerous doctors did not do for me what the Great Physician did in a moment of time.

Don't get me wrong. God has revealed to me that He has gifted these doctors, nurses, therapists, and the scientists or chemists that make these medications. Give or take these crooked sons of bitches.

Just know that God is Hope. Faith or Belief and any good thing at all about man is of God. He is Love. How is Jesus God? All things are possible with God. Just trust Him. Don't worry or be afraid. He has commanded us to be strong and courageous for He is with us wherever we go. He will never leave us or forsake us. He is faithful to keep His word. If He said it. He meant it. It is the Truth. Jesus said His words are Spirit and Truth. These words are Life and Jesus is the Way. The one and only true living God is the living Word of God. He was manifest in the flesh. The holy bible has been tampered with by man and today even more with hundreds of versions. However, man is foolish to think he could ever stop the Power of the Spirit and Truth that is the Word of God Jesus Christ.

Is the Father the Son or the Spirit? Is He 3 in one or one in 3? Don't split hairs with vain debates and argumentative subjects that no man can answer. There are simply things of God that man will never understand. Our finite minds cannot imagine, fathom, dream, or even comprehend the great things of God. He just said don't trip. I got this. Be still and know. Trust Me and Believe In Me. Have Faith! Never give up Hope. Without Hope this Life has no purpose and we have meaning at all. There is just certain death. Then we are worm food.

If it is all just a big story and we die only to find out that's it just black and nothing then fine with me. If we die and it is true and we chose not to simply believe and have the faith the size of a mustard seed. We'd be cursing ourselves not God from hell forever. We would know He was right and we have no defense or a word to say before the righteous Judge.

Life and death. Facts. Choose life or death. It is the most logical, reasonable, sane, and simple choice for anyone in their right mind. So anyone who says its blind faith and completely disregards facts, logic, or reason. You know just as God says. He has used the foolishness of this world for His wisdom. He makes those who are wise in their own eyes, puffed up with pride, and too stubborn or hard hearted to simply admit they do not know. Men fear what they do not know. Rightfully so. You should fear God. Both revere and be a very afraid of the One that can take your life and cast your soul into hell. He gives and takes away. Simple as that.

So remember no matter what the situation or circumstances shit is just temporary. All good things must come to an end. As do the bad. So suck it up, be strong and courageous. Has He not commanded us? He is with you wherever and nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.

To anyone suffering right now I am by no means minimizing your pain. I feel you 1000% You don't have to believe a word from me. Just know there is someone who is always with you and you are not helpless or alone. You may be weak and in complete darkness that seems like hell. God is light in the darkness. He has the keys to death and hell. So weather life or death, heaven or hell. You gotta trust and believe in Jesus. If not it is your own doing. Most of our problems are self inflicted we bring em on ourselves.

This may be the hardest part for me to tell someone in depression just dwelling and can't let go. Do you know what depression is. It is YOUR THOUGHTS and YOUR FEELINGS. It is therefore YOUR BELIEF and thus YOUR REALITY!

This is self-centeredness. Depression for a while that is justified is one thing. Wallowing in SELF-PITY with the attitude WOE IS ME. MY LIFE SUCKS and nobody understands or knows what I I I am going through. No one could possibly relate to YOUR SUPERIOR PROBLEMS! GET OUT OF YOURSELF for a while. Have an attitude of gratitude. You are alive and if you can feel emotions and you woke up today then you KNOW that you are alive. LIFE is a gift from of GOD. He so loved all of us that He GAVE HIS LIFE so that anyone who BELIEVES in HIM Should Not Perish...SHOULD NOT! But HAVE RIGHT NOW AS IN THIS PRESENT MOMENT. EVERLASTING LIFE. God gave us HOPE of ETERNAL LIFE the FREE GIFT of SALVATION is the LORD OUR GOD JESUS CHRIST the ONLY BEGOTTEN of the EVERLASTING FATHER the King of Israel is the Holy One (Christ) or Anointed (Messiah) our SAVIOR and REDEEMER. Not by might nor by power but by that Holy Spirit of PROMISE which is the PLEDGE of our inheritance.

The only reason one would die when God gave us His Life so that anyone whomsoever at all Believes. The Way is the Truth and He has become our Salvation. He is the very HOPE, FAITH, and LOVE that abides forever. LOVE being the greatest. No one SHOULD die. It is a choice!!! Just like you choose to wake up and be grateful saying Thank You God. Bless you Lord Jesus for the Spirit translated "Breath or Air" of Life and the LIGHT we all see and we have heard the word of God preached and proclaimed to us all. So no one has an excuse to even say I Dont Believe! That is our free will and choice. Another gift from God. He wants you to choose Jesus and dont worry but be happy. Rejoice!! Make some noise!! God is good all the time. All the time God is good. We all have a reason for the very BREATH of LIFE that was blown into Adam's nostrils and he became a living soul. Adam just means man. Human. In His image and likeness. Male and female created He them. If you believe in Jesus and the Good News aka Gospel of the Kingdom and Eternal Life you have every reason on every Day the Lord has made to be grateful and choose to be happy. The Eternal One is the Alpha and Omega. The Ancient of Days is the First and the Last. The Almighty. Beginning and End. Genesis to Revelation. Death and Life He gives and takes away.

I pray you don't waste another moment having a pity party if you don't have an actual reason to be stuck feeling sad for an excessive period of time. It is selfish. Ungrateful.

Your THOUGHTS and FEELINGS are powerful. They are YOURS though. You and you alone have a God given free gift of grace to Think for yourself and Regulate or Control Your Feelings and Emotions. It takes time and it's a process of growing up and becoming a man or woman. He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of POWER, LOVE, AND A SOUND MIND. SELF DISCIPLINE your MIND. We have the MIND of Christ. The Spirit of God and of Christ. The Kingdom of heaven is within. God the Father, the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit is all within. What does it say? The Word is near to you, in your heart, even in your mouth.

It is Finished!

Revelation 22:16 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

16 “I, Jesus, have sent Mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the Bright and Morning Star.”

Isaiah 44:6-8 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

6 “Thus saith the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts: I am the First, and I am the Last, and besides Me there is no God.

7 And who, as I, shall call and shall declare it, and set it in order for Me, since I appointed the ancient people? And the things that are coming and shall come, let them show unto them.

8 Fear ye not, neither be afraid. Have not I told thee from that time and have declared it? Ye are even My witnesses. Is there a God besides Me? Yea, there is no God. I know not any.”

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oldguy56-world · 3 years

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Romancing the Stone

How was your weekend? Mine was different as I had a few firsts in my life. First time I called 911. First time I rode in an ambulance, and first time I had a kidney stone. It was a hat trick of fun. Let me back up a bit. I was in the kitchen getting some things ready for supper when it felt like I was stabbed in the side. I got the chills and the sweats at the same time and I couldn’t stand up. We made the call and the EMT’s arrived very quickly. (here is a tip for while you are waiting. Don’t look up your symptoms online. It will not make you feel relieved at all. Based on what I was experiencing I could have had 1 of 20 things. Each one worse than the one before. The only thing I ruled out was ovarian cysts. Unless there is something my parents never told me) They did a fantastic job of asking questions and calming the situation down. There were a couple of things though:

- Asked me if I was having trouble releasing gas. When I have gas the longest I have ever gone is 37 seconds. After that it gets ugly, so the answer was no.

- They asked me if someone had dumped water on me. When I said no they looked at each other. This caused my blood pressure to go up which was the next thing they tested.

- I was disappointed and relieved with my ambulance ride to the hospital. They didn’t put the siren on and run red lights. The good news was this told me I couldn’t be in too bad a shape. (they also watch you very closely in the back. I am not sure if it is to make sure I am okay or that I am not pocketing all the neat stuff they have in there)

Now we are at the hospital. What a joy this was. Did you know hospitals are full of sick people? Here are some things I picked up on while waiting. (Yes even in EXTREME pain I wanted to use the moment for good and teach others from my lessons).

- No matter how bad you have to do it don’t pee until they tell you they need a sample. I made that mistake. Took them a while to get more out of me.

- Pick where you sit very carefully. You want to make sure you are not beside the crazy one and it is hard to tell by looks alone. I lucked out. The guy who came in after me did not. He sat near a guy who looked normal enough. I saw the ‘normal guy’ lean over before saying “does this look right to you” and he lifted his shirt. I couldn’t see what he showed the guy but the doctors had to add vomiting to his chart.

- The magazines are old. I did however learn that Trudeau was just elected Prime Minister. Pierre Trudeau.

- As the wait went on I got to thinking about all the medical TV shows we watch. If there is any truth to the shows I am no doubt waiting while the doctors are having sex in empty rooms with each other, nurses, patients, or maybe stray sheep.

- They build up false hope by moving you into the next room. You think that means you are getting close but not so. I was moved 5 times.

- If you want to kill time start playing ‘what does that person have’ in your head. Not out loud. Apparently people waiting for psychiatric help are in the same waiting room as you are. Play the game but make no eye contact. Trust me on this one.

- If you listen to the other people in the waiting room on the phones with their families you will hear that they are worse than anyone else in the room and should go next. Are you kidding me? I could not eat my supper. Do you know how bad off I have to be to miss a meal. I should have been at the front of the line.

I finally get to the last waiting room. A woman comes out dressed like a scientist from one of those movies where there is a deadly virus breakout. She asks me if I am there for an MRI X-ray or CT scan. How the #%*& do I know. She is the first person since the EMTs to talk to me. (except for that woman who kept scratching herself in the first waiting room. I tried to block her from my memory but the sight is still in my head)

Anyway, All is well I just have to wait for the stone to pass. You will know when it does as I am sure you will hear me scream like a little girl no matter how far away you live.

side note: this was also tough on my wife as she was not allowed to come with me due to Covid restrictions. It is important to keep those who care in the loop.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Always take care of yourself and your loved ones. You all deserve it.

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achtung-attitude · 4 years

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SEPTEMBER 19, 1981

She was born with her eyes closed, her flesh cold. Her parents wept bitterly as the doctors shook their heads. Stillbirth. Born dead.

But then the infant opened her eyes and silently reached out, gripping a nurse’s scrubs. The nurse screamed. The child's parents stared in shock. The baby made no sound, no sound at all. The girl was named T’onga, her family name Kim. But throughout her childhood, it wasn’t a name that really meant anything to her.

From an early age, growing up in Koreatown, she took an interest in biology. In elementary school, the enthusiasm with which she dissected and examined animal specimens in science class could only be described by her teachers as ‘unsettling’.

She didn’t play with other kids her age. She hardly engaged with her own parents. She seemed to have no emotion at all, spending almost all of her time outside of school in an old, disused warehouse. An infamous place, that other children her age dare not go, especially not with her there. The whispering began before long, from children and adults alike.

“Who does she think she is?”

“What is wrong with that child?”

“It’s like she’s got no heart at all…!”

Terror, disguised as anger. She understood, even then, that the whispers were only a distraction from their fear. And they were afraid. Afraid of her. The girl with no heart.

“I don’t have a heart either,” All-Kill declared to her, in the year 1995, 3 years after the great riots. Earlier that day, O.J. Simpson struggled to put on a pair of gloves, a satisfied look spreading on his face.

“We’re the same,” he continued. “I have no love for this world.”

“I don’t think love is real. And even if it is, I don’t care about what some old geezer has to say about it.”

The man in black laughed. They sat across from each other in the living room of her parent’s house. The girl’s nose was broken, and plastered over with a thick bandage.

They were junkies, squatting in her warehouse to shoot up their poison in the dead of night. In her warehouse. Tainting her space with their filth. Her memories of what happened next were hazy, but she had a distinct memory of leaping onto someone back and stabbing something into their neck. Probably the scalpel she stole from the school lab. She didn’t have it anymore, which was perturbing.

When the adults found them, the junkie’s companions had already fled. It was only the two of them, both pale, barely conscious, blood speckling their skin. He wasn’t dead, nor would he die. But the things they found in the backrooms certainly were.

A wide array of organs of various sizes, but all too small to be human, stored in cupboards and boxes. The investigation came to a total of one dog, two cats, 6 rats and 3 small birds. Hearts, guts, livers, preserved in pickle jars.

“Why pickle jars?” All-Kill inquires.

“There’s only so much I could steal from school. I improvised.” The man in black chuckled at this. “They didn’t suffer,” she explains. “It wasn’t about that. I was quick. I just wanted to see how they worked.”

“I believe you.”

He had come in the night. While the police investigated, her parents had been allowed to bring her home. She had said nothing to them whatsoever. Then he came, knocking on the door while she sat staring at the television. She heard her parents gasp, and a polite request to enter. The man in black came inside, shrugging off his jacket and sitting on the couch across from her. He sent her parents away, and introduced himself as All-Kill.

“What kind of name is that, anyway?” T’onga asks, taking her eyes off the TV for a moment to glance at him.

“One that I acquired. There’s been a lot of violence in my life, I’m afraid. People like your parents gave it to me after a certain number of incidents. It’s crass, I admit, but I’ve come to like it.”

“Hm. They call me the girl without a heart.”

“I know. I’ve heard all sorts of terrible things about you. They used to say similar things about me.”

“It’s stupid. Of course I have a heart,” she says, her voice remaining flat and unemotional, “How the fuck could I live without one? They think because I don’t laugh or sing or cry, that I’m somehow not human, but I am… I want the same things the rest of them want: a peaceful life, in my own space, where I can do the things that make me happy.” ”

“Of course. But they don’t understand that. They don’t understand you, and that makes them afraid. I know what it’s like to be rejected out of fear. The pain that comes with it, it’s almost unbearable. That was until I came to realize the truth: They were right to be afraid… Do you know what’s going to happen to you now?”

“... Guess there’ll be a trial. After that, juvie, or psychiatric care.”

“All that and worse. Did you know your parents intend to disown you? Even if you dodge jail or the asylum, there will be nowhere for you to return to. You’ll be made a ward of state, carted around foster homes. Because your parents… decided you were too much hassle to deal with.”

After a moment of consideration, T’onga responded, “... I’d probably make the same call in their place.”

His face twitched at this. “... You don’t care?”

“They’re not special either. Even if they gave birth to me, raise me, I don’t feel anything special for them. They’re people. Just like everyone else.”

“... That’s wrong,” the man in black declares, and the girl with no heart noticed for the first time something quite strange. “They are your family. No… they should be your family. That means more than blood, genetics, DNA. It’s a bonding of the soul. Parents impart pieces of their own souls to create life, and nurture it into a human being. If they… can betray that bond so easily… then it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that you are the way you are.”

He was angry. Adults have been angry at her before, but not like this. At last she realizes what was different about his. There was no fear in it. He’s not masking anything. He was simply, truly, angry. And to this, she had no answer.

“You don’t belong here. You never have. If you stay here, you’ll rot away, never knowing love, or peace, or the true meaning of family. But I can save you. I can give you a new life, far away from this desolate house. I can give you powers beyond imagination. I can give you a family that will never betray you… What do you say?”

She stared at him, her lips suddenly dry. Still, she couldn’t think of an answer. Words failed her. At last, she nodded once, shakily. She couldn’t read the expression that came over him. He called out, summoning her parents into the room. All-Kill didn’t stand up, rather he raised his hand to them, shaped as if he was holding something between the thumb and forefinger, but she couldn’t see anything there. All she saw was him grazing her parent’s chest, rotating his wrist, and they instantly dropped dead. Eyes open.

“... They’re no-one special, right?” he said, meeting her eyes, wide and bright in the flickering light cast by the TV. He raised his hand, palm facing up. She took it.

There was a little boy in the car he had waiting outside. A boy no older than 3, sitting in a booster seat, mashing two action figures together. She didn’t know what make of car it was, but it looked expensive. All-Kill bid her to sit in the back, and so she did.

“Are you part of the family now?” the boy asked.

“What?”

“All-Kill, is she part of the family now?”

“Yes she is, Sang-ok,” he declared, turning the key in the ignition. The vehicle rumbled into life, and they drove away.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #achtung attitude #t'onga kim #all-kill #ch34

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hongism · 5 years

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finding beauty in your darkest places - chapter 4

Pairing: TBA (i have no clue at the moment, ot7 for now)

Genre: Psychiatric Clinic!au, Heavy Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 6898

Warnings: strong language; deals with mental and emotional illnesses and disorders as a heavy theme of the story, future graphic depictions of disorders - please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable

Rating: PG-13/Mature

Summary: Everyone has their issues, and everyone deals with them differently. Jungkook thinks that avoiding his problems is the best option out there.

aka

Jeon Jungkook is the newest patient at the Omelas Specialized Psychiatric Clinic, and he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible so that he can go back to university and be with his friends again. Of course, that doesn't work out according to his plan.

a/n: you guys, huge shoutout to Mari, Em, and Ivory my lovely wordsprint buddies who were a huge support and inspiration to work alongside ;-; im honestly thrilled that i felt inspired to write this so soon and im even more excited to share it with you guys because i honestly love this chapter. i really hope you guys like it as much as i do! Also thank you so so much for such wonderful feedback on my survey, seeing your responses and reading through them makes my day! Feel free to go back and redo the survey whenever you want as the story progresses and things change~

ALSO

This bit is important too, because i want to make sure that it is clear and understandable.

The content of this story is heavy and difficult stuff. I am not writing it in a way that holds back from the ugly parts that are real life in these kinds of situations. It is dramatic because that is part of my vision with the story. I say that the genre is heavy angst because it is. It is heavy and dramatic and overwhelming at times because that’s the way life is. I completely understand if this isn’t your cup of tea, but please please do not complain about the heavy and dramatic nature of the story. I love you guys and i want you to love the story, but i also want to convey a message with this story and am taking the steps i believe are necessary to reach that goal. Please understand that before reading.

Chapter:

3 | 4 | 5

Finding Beauty in Your Darkest Places

Chapter 4: A Slip into the Darkness

...

“Rock, paper, scissors — ha, yes! Paper beats rock, I win.” Taehyung leans back, nearly falling off the stool he’s precariously perched on, and claps for his win over Jimin’s presented rock. Jungkook slouches on his own stool, arms folded under his head on the granite counter. He watches the exchange between Taehyung and Jimin with amusement. Jimin protests Taehyung’s win, saying something about how Taehyung didn’t play fair and they should play two out of three instead.

“What are you guys even playing for?” You ask as you place the butter knife in your hand down. Jungkook glances in your direction, noticing that you have six crackers already covered in peanut butter on your plate, but six more naked crackers still sit on the other half of the plate.

“Who gets to name the gang,” Taehyung explains. He leans over the counter and snatches one of the crackers off your plate, popping it into his mouth and smiling through the food. You don’t protest the action. Instead you blink at the spot on your plate where the cracker just was and shake your head. “And since I won, I get to name it!”

“What gang are you talking about? I didn’t even realize there was a gang in the first place.” You return to spreading peanut butter across your crackers while Taehyung sighs as though disappointed in your question.

“Us. We’re a gang now, right? Since we’ve been planning and doing all this covert stuff that no one else knows about?”

“Sure, we can be a gang if you want us to be.”

“Yay! Oh, now I need to think of a name for us. Our operation is ‘Find the Teddy Bear’, so we can be the Teddy Bear Gang.” Jimin stifles a laugh, pressing his lips together to hide the smile, and Jungkook just buries his face in the crook of his arm to hide the amusement spreading across his features. “Hey, don’t laugh at our gang name! This is important business. We have to be serious about it. Y/N, you don’t think it’s funny, right?”

“Hm? Oh, of course not.” Jungkook peeks over his arm to catch a glimpse of your face, and despite your claims, he finds a grin on your lips.

“You guys are mean. Flat out mean. I don’t appreciate this.” Taehyung huffs and sits back, crossing his arms over his chest as he does. “But I do appreciate all the stuff you guys are doing to help me. Have you learned anything new recently?”

“I’ve been asking around,” Jimin responds once he buries his laughter. “I talked with Eunbi, Hanuel, Miyeon, and Hyewon but none of them know anything.” Jungkook sits up at the mention of Hyewon, peering at the back of Jimin’s head. Did she mention anything about me? Anything about what happened a few days ago? No, Y/N promised that she would make sure no one found out. Did she stop Hyewon from saying anything before Jimin talked to her though? Is she even going to keep her word?

“I have enlisted the help of Seokjin.” You cut into the conversation, slicing through Jungkook’s thoughts at the same time. “He is going to talk with the nurses and see if any of them know anything. He said he would help Tuesday and today because he is on duty to help them sort through medications. Perfect time to ask questions.”

“Why couldn’t one of us do that though?” Jimin asks. He props an elbow up on the counter and rests his chin on a clenched fist. You pay no attention to Jimin or his question. Instead, you continue with your train of thought as though Jimin didn’t even open his mouth.

“He didn’t get much from Tuesday’s chat, but he confirmed that the nurses who were in Taehyung’s room at the time of the bear’s disappearance didn’t take the bear out. They changed the beds and that was it; the bear was already gone at that point.” A flash of silver crosses Jungkook’s vision, then a clatter resounds. You blink at the counter in a similar manner to the people across from you, staring at the knife that suddenly left your hand. “Anyways, another important thing to note is that today is laundry day.”

“Why is that important?” Jungkook inquires when no one else does.

“I have a plan to sneak into the laundry room. Any volunteers to help me?”

“Oh, me! I wanna go!” Taehyung’s hand shoots up, wiggling in the air above his head, and he grins at you. Eyes wide, you drag your gaze over him before shifting them over to someone else.

“Jungkook. Thanks for offering.”

“What?” It’s a chorus who echoes the simple word, Taehyung and Jimin speaking in unison while Jungkook falls a bit short and repeats after them.

“I’m sorry, Tae, but I really need you to be in the safest possible position. I can’t let you get in trouble because of me. It’s why we don’t eat together, and this is ten times worse than meal times.”

“Why would you rather throw Jungkook to the wolves then?” Jimin motions towards him, his hand hovering near Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook shakes his head a few times. “Why don’t you just pick someone you don’t care about like me instead?” Eyes waver, your gaze flickers over Jimin, and Jungkook can’t catch the emotion that lingers there because it’s gone too quickly. Jimin’s lips fall into a frown, brows knitted together.

“It’s my plan, so I get to pick who goes with me. I pick Jungkook, and that’s that.”

A huff of air leaves Jimin’s lips before you finish speaking. He redirects his gaze to the counter under his hands.

“Okay, Jungkook, do you have some time? Let’s go discuss the plan.”

“Why can’t Jimin and I be in on the plan as well? That’s not fair.”

“Tae, I’m sorry. The less you know the better. If I get in trouble or caught for this, then they won’t be able to tie anything back to you if you don’t know anything. Even if they find some way to drag you into it, they won’t be able to get any information from you. Please trust me on this one, okay? I’ll make sure it won’t be a repeat of the fight.”

“I trust you,” Taehyung says. He drops his volume as he looks at you. “I do. I just want to make sure you’ll be safe too.”

“That’s why I’m bringing someone with me, and I’m sorry it can’t be you. I will be fine.” Taehyung doesn’t say anything in response and lets you walk away from the counter. You grab hold of Jungkook’s sleeve as you round the corner. “Come on. The sooner we get this sorted out, the better.” Jungkook hops out the stool and follows your lead back in the direction of the rooms. “Wait out here for a few minutes, Jungkookie. I need to have a quick chat with someone.” Turning on your heel at the mouth of the hallway, you motion for Jungkook to take a few steps back. He tilts his head to the side at your demand, confusion taking over, and it continues to seep through his body as you walk up to Hoseok’s door and knock a few times. “Try not to have another panic attack and puke on the floor.” You disappear into the room a moment later. Jungkook is left standing in the hallway wishing he was anywhere else because all he sees when he looks around are memories of the panic attack that struck a few days ago. The choking sensation.

Queasiness.

Drowning, drowning in a sea of darkness without end.

He shakes his head to clear the thoughts out, refocusing his eyes on the hallway. Fourteen tiles across, fourteen tiles from door to door, fourteen tiles from wall to wall. Half tiles in the doorways. Four of them. The menial task of counting grounds him, reminds him of the reality that surrounds him, and separates the darkness creeping in from the light ahead of him. Jungkook takes a deep breath as he stares forward, blinking into the brightness seeping in through the window at the end of the hallway. A door slides open, and it’s not Hoseok’s; rather it’s the room beside his. Jungkook realizes that he’s just standing in the middle of the hall and staring forward, which is probably a strange sight.

Platinum blonde hair bleeds together with the white on the walls. Hyewon steps out of the room, eyes on the floor as she slides the door shut again and starts walking in Jungkook’s direction. She maintains her pace as she passes him. If he’d never spoken to her before, he would let her keep walking, but now his hand reaches out and grabs hold of her wrist. What follows next happens in an instant; however, in Jungkook’s mind, it seems to occur in slow-motion, Hyewon’s blonde hair whipping through the air while she turns to face him.

“What the hell are you doing?” She yells as soon as his fingers touch her skin. Jungkook retracts his arm as though burned and blinks at her with wide eyes. Silence hangs between them for a few moments before Hyewon’s features relax, the anger ebbing away as her brows return to a normal position. “I—uh, sorry about that. You caught me off guard, and I wasn’t expecting that.”

“No, no, it’s my fault,” Jungkook insists, bringing his hands up. “I should’ve said something or…not grabbed you like that? Um, I just want to apologize for the other day and behaving the way I did when you tried to help me. It was — I was rude and insensitive. I should’ve been nicer? Yea. I was going through a tough time right then, you caught me at the wrong moment, but that shouldn’t be an excuse for my attitude or the way I treated you.” Jungkook doesn’t know what he is expecting from Hyewon in terms of her reaction; a smile and cheerful laugh is not on his mind at all though. She grins, eyes finding his, and lets a bright laugh fall from her lips.

“I didn’t hold it against you, you know. In my mind, your reaction made sense and was justified in the moment. I was the one pushing a bit hard for answers. To reassure you though, I’ve done the same thing, so it doesn’t make you a bad person or anything like that. I mean, look at how I reacted when you touched my arm. If you ever do want to talk, my offer still stands and I’d always be willing to listen.”

“Why though?” Jungkook can’t help but to ask the question, because her insistence to help him is something foreign to him.

"Well," she starts, gaze finding the ceiling as she speaks, "when I came in, I didn't feel like I had anyone to talk to, and there are times when I still feel that way, but I believe that it's important to open up rather than bottle everything inside. If you keep it locked up all the time then nothing good will come from that, right?" Jungkook glances over her soft features, the gleam in her eyes bright. "Ah, sorry for rambling a bit and making a hasty exit, but I have an appointment to go to actually. I'll catch you around though! If you need me, you can probably find me in my room or somewhere nearby." Hyewon turns to leave, but Jungkook doesn't let her go without saying something in response first.

"You're really nice and kind-hearted, Hyewon!" He calls out to her back. She grins at him over her shoulder. "I'm surprised to find a person like that here." Hyewon only laughs, eyes disappearing behind crescent shaped eyelids. She waves at him before returning to walking away, and Jungkook stares at the back of her head. How can a person like that be friends with people like Mingyu and Yesung? Is it a facade?

"You done hitting on other patients?"

"Shit!" Jungkook flinches as you speak, unaware that you opened the door and stepped out. You snort at his reaction and cover your mouth when the unprecedented noise leaves your mouth. "I wasn't hitting on her; it's called being nice."

"Being nice? What's that?" You poke your tongue out, toying with the corner of your lips while you grin at Jungkook. "It's all a joke, Jungkookie. Learn how to take one." You pull your tongue back between your lips, click it against the roof of your mouth, then start walking down the hallway. Jungkook jogs to catch up with her.

"Di-Did your talk go well?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The—I mean your talk with Hoseok," Jungkook clarifies. His throat constricts a bit after he speaks, suddenly aware of how this might come across to you. You stop walking to face him, one brow raised.

"You have zero concept of privacy."

"And you were just eavesdropping on my conversation with Hyewon."

"Cute, Jungkookie, but you were having said conversation in a public and open hallway. It didn't seem like you were trying to hide the conversation in any way." With your retort, Jungkook realizes that he's losing the fight.

"Sorry, I won't ask about your personal life again."

"I highly doubt that, but okay."

"Can I ask you a question about Hoseok though?" You roll your eyes, visibly debating the question, but Jungkook doesn't wait for your permission. "Namjoon told me a bit about him a few days ago, but I've been wondering…why does he never talk to other patients? And stay in his room all the time?"

"What demon has possessed you?" You ask. "Why do you want to know so badly? Do you not have the ability to drop the subject and mind your own business?"

"I feel like I need to know because I need to know when I'm overstepping my bounds with other patients." Your gaze turns into a glare as you squint at him. Jungkook racks his brain for the right words to say that might convince to talk about it. "Uh, on the—on the first day I was here, you said…you said something about sticking to the truth. Honesty is the best policy." A laugh tears through your chest.

"You are nothing but trouble, Jeon Jungkook." You point to the door to your left then grab hold of the handle and slide it open. "Go on in." He does as asked, unsure of what to expect inside her room. Even though it's the same basic structure and layout as Jungkook's room, yours contains more decorations, including dark curtains over the windows and a few rugs scattered across the floor. There's only one bed in your room too, as well as a desk in the corner, but the thing — or things in reality — that catches most of Jungkook's attention are all the stuffed animals strewn over your mattress. There are at least six, if not more; Jungkook can't see the exact amount due to the unmade state your bed is in. When you catch his looking, you stab his shoulder with your index finger. "You better not make any smart-ass comments."

"Of course not!" He raises his arms in defense as you sidestep him to go to your desk. He stands awkwardly in the entrance of your room, right in front of the door that you closed, and watch as you snatch a pen off your desk and stick the end of it in your mouth. Plopping down on the rug in front of your bed, you motion at the empty space in front of you.

"Look," you say as he seats himself across from him, "I am only going to tell you about Hoseok because everyone else her knows and maybe you'll feel special or something by knowing. Hoseok…isn't a new patient by any means, but he hasn't been around for a long time when compared to other patients here. For the first couple weeks after he got here, everyone thought he was fine and that nothing was wrong with him. No one understand why he was admitted here since there were no signs of anything being an issue. He was bright and loud, enthusiastic, optimistic, always talking to everyone he encountered." You hesitate, tugging on the pen in between your teeth, and gaze at something in the corner of the room. "Well, that was all a lie, an act really, and he was just trying to hide what was really going on in his mind. After…after things got more clear? I don't know how to word it, but his behavior made more sense once the mask started to crack. The little oddities he had — strange and random behavior, a weird sense of speech, constant confusion — they all started to add up and pile on top of each other. It seemed to happen so quickly that it was had to accept that the person we had grown accustomed to was actually nothing like that in reality. He still interacted with the others at that time, but the bubbly personality disappeared. He was…flat. Blank, didn't show much emotion, didn't speak much and whenever he did it was nonsense either grammatically or entirely unrelated to anything. It's—there were too many symptoms to list, and those things combined with his other disorder — the behaviors contradict each other, but the disorders make sense together.

"And, you know, it wouldn't be surprising if everyone in this clinic suffers from depression, but since his is atypical, it feels so different than anything else I've encountered. It's sad and unfortunate because Hoseok may never get to leave this place. Cases like his rarely get better, and there's not much Omelas can do for him. With a hopeless case, sometimes it seems like they aren't trying to do anything for him. I honestly don't feel bad for many people, but I do for Hoseok. He's sweet and nice, probably the nicest person I've ever met. It isn't his fault that he has to deal with the issues he has, and it isn't fair either. Someone so pure and kind — he doesn't deserve that kind of pain and suffering. It makes me wonder how things like that can happen to such a good person."

You pause to take a few deep breaths, eyes fluttering shut. Jungkook doesn't make a sound, and he's not sure he's even breathing at this point. Even with your eyes squeezed shut, your expression seems so melancholic that it hurts to look at your face, so Jungkook stares at his lap instead. The image before him is a dark and blurry one, an image it feels like he shouldn’t be looking at or witnessing.

"Before coming to Omelas, I didn't really care about anyone except myself. No one was important in my mind, and there wasn't anything who deserved my time because of constantly being let down. Now that I've been here though, surrounded by many people like Hoseok and Taehyung, I can't help but to feel for them. I wish there was more I could do to help them, because they deserve that. I know I'm not in a position to help them in all honesty, nor am I a person who can provide that for them. I’m not a good person, not someone anyone should look up to. I make a lot of mistakes, and yes every person does, but it’s—it’s just different. They don’t need a person like me in their lives, but it’s too difficult to just walk away from them." Jungkook reckons it’s like a landslide — the slippery slope he’s falling down — and at the bottom is your deepest, darkest place. Your guard is down, the brick walls Jungkook has found around you are not standing right now, and so when he asks his next question, he keeps his volume low as though it will keep you in the vulnerable position.

"Is that why you do things for them, like getting Taehyung the teddy bear and talking with Hoseok?"

"Yea, whatever good it does. Hoseok tries to be alone all the time, but I know that he doesn't actually like it. He stays alone because he thinks it's for the good of other people. For him personally, however, it's not good. Everything is difficult for him. Maybe by visiting him when I can and talking to him when no one else makes an effort to, I'm doing something good. If it is, then I think it's the only good thing I can do. I always come up short, yet when I’m helping them, it feels like I’ve been given a chance to fix things."

"That's not true though. Everything you do for Taehyung, and all—”

"Fuck," you cut Jungkook off, eyes snapping open. The grief-stricken expression drops from your features, and you replace it with a blank slate, hiding your vulnerability again. You toy with the pen in your mouth, twirling it a bit with your tongue as you stab a finger in Jungkook's direction. "I swear, Jeon, if you breathe a word about this—”

"I won't, I won't. Don't worry." Jungkook reassures you.

"Good. Now we need to discuss the plan for the laundry room heist tonight. That was the whole point of coming here, but you distracted me."

"Why did you choose me to help? Jimin said he would've gone."

"Have you already forgotten our deal?" Jungkook purses his lips and leans back.

"I want confirmation that you've done your part first," he requests. You scoff.

"We already made the deal."

"I-"

"No one has brought it up or mentioned it, right? So I've done my part. Even the nurses don't know. I took the bullet for you and said that I was the one who vomited in the hallway. I sure wish I could've seen Mingyu's reaction when he saw it outside his door though. That would've been fucking hilarious." You laugh to yourself, and Jungkook relents, trusting that your words are honest. "Besides, the deal was that I would keep it a secret and in return, you would do four favors for me. I didn't really want to use one of those favors on this, but that's why I asked for four and not three. I assumed you may not want to do this."

"I have no problem with doing this though. I was just curious as to why you picked me over Jimin."

"Well if you're on board, then I get to keep the favor for later. I'm sure I can figure something out." Jungkook opens his mouth to ask one more time about Jimin, but you continue speaking and he doesn't have the opportunity to. "The nurses collect all laundry from the rooms starting at 8 p.m., then work on it until curfew at 11. They do rounds to make sure everyone is in their rooms, finishing at 11:15, and go to their side of the ward to sleep or do whatever they do over there. Now, we need to meet at 11:27 on the dot, because the cameras in the hall will catch us otherwise. At 11:27, there is a break in the cameras' recordings because of a glitch. Two and a half minutes. That's all the time we have to get to the laundry room before the cameras come back on and recover from the glitch. We can search the laundry and stuff for Taehyung's bear for as long as we need to, but if it isn't there then we have a problem, because that means it could be in someone else's room or hidden somewhere else. If we can't find it in the laundry room, we'll search the kitchen as well. No one usually looks in or uses the cabinets since there's a pantry, but if Mingyu truly is the one who took it, he might hide it there. And if not, then we'll have to regroup and think about other possibilities tomorrow. Everything make sense so far?"

"Yep, crystal clear."

"Good. Now, the cameras in the kitchen have a blind spot, so if we push the fridge a little bit then it will cover the camera view enough for us to do what we need to do in the kitchen without being seen. It would be best if we move the fridge before tonight though, otherwise it might look a bit too suspicious. As for getting back to our rooms without the cameras catching us, there is only one other time where there's a glitch, and that's at 3:33 a.m. We will have to kill some time if we finish early and wait it out."

"How are we gonna kill that much time?" Jungkook asks, unsure of how long this whole operation is going to take. It shouldn't take long at all to search the laundry or the kitchen. There's no way.

"Of course we can sit in the dark and talk about our feelings."

"What?"

"Man, you have a terrible sense of humor. Terrible. You're going to be responsible for moving the fridge by the way. We should go back to the kitchen now to move it, because I have an appointment soon. We aren't going to talk about this again — especially not at dinner. You can't say a word to Yoongi or Namjoon or Seokjin. Taehyung doesn't need to know the plan either, okay? All in agreement?"

"Ye-Yea, it's just a lot of information at once," Jungkook admits. He rubs the expanse of skin between his brows and tries to recall the whole plan, but he can't remember the exact timing of things and it's fuzzy already.

"I can do a recap when we meet up tonight. 11:27, remember that much for now." You tug the pen out of your mouth, cradling it between your index and middle fingers, and stand up. "Come on, let's head back." You toss the pen onto your desk, and Jungkook hurries to join you by the door, nearly tripping over the rug as he gets to his feet. He trails a few feet behind you while the two of you walk until you start talking again, then he jogs to fall into step with you. "Say, Jungkookie, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Uh, no thank you?" Jungkook responds, but he has a nasty feeling that you are going to prod for answers no matter what he says. In fact, you laugh at his response, then --

"What do you have?" Jungkook chokes on air even though he knows he should've expected such a question from you. "I have some ideas, and I've been doing more thinking since finding you in the hallway. To be transparent, I've never seen something like that out of other patients. Although, I'm not the most observant person so that means nothing."

"It's anxiety. That's all," Jungkook says through gritted teeth. He doesn't want to continue a conversation on the subject, and frankly, he doesn't want to have it with you of all people because you saw him in his most vulnerable state of existence. You don't put the topic to rest, however.

"You gotta clarify. There are five major types of anxiety disorders and then tons of subtypes within each one as well. Hell, I can say I've got 'anxiety' but that doesn't really mean anything since there are so many options under that umbrella."

"Why do you want to know?" You huff at his question and fold your arms over your chest.

"I'm nosy, okay?"

Jungkook doesn't follow up with anything else, and maybe if he stays quiet, you won't continue to pry for answers. Please don't ask again. Just drop it. Is this some sort of punishment for asking you personal questions?

"Oh, Namjoon, you're here!"

Sure enough, as the two of you step into the kitchen, Jungkook's gaze falls on Namjoon, who sits at the counter with a spiral journal set out before him. The man looks up when you call his name and pauses his careful strokes to greet you with a dimpled smile. You return the smile, joining him at the counter and sitting beside him without hesitation. Jungkook on the other hand freezes in place and blinks between you and the fridge. If the only reason in coming to the kitchen was to move the fridge, then you both are screwed now because of Namjoon's presence.

"What are you two up to?" Namjoon inquires. A tapping noise accompanies his words, pen finding purchase again the counter top.

"We ran into each other when leaving our rooms," you explain without batting a lash. How can you lie so easily? And to one of your friends at that? Jungkook swallows, fighting the lump that swells in his throat.

"And you happened to be heading in the same direction?" Perhaps Namjoon sees through the lie, or his intuition tells him something that Jungkook's doesn't, or maybe he's simply known you long enough to be able to recognize when you are lying.

"Well, I was coming to get the peanut butter crackers I made earlier, but Taehyung must have snagged them since they're gone." Jungkook glances at the counter and notices that you're telling the truth about that at the very least. There are no traces of your plate, the crackers, or the peanut butter — the knife has disappeared as well, and Jungkook laughs at the idea that Taehyung stole all of it while you were gone. "Jungkook was only walking with me because I was being nosy and asking a lot of personal questions."

Namjoon heaves a deep sigh and halts his pen tapping in favor of side-eyeing you. He doesn't comment on it though. You offer a forced smile to defend yourself before redirecting your attention to Jungkook.

"Oh, you didn't finish telling me what branch of anxiety you have."

Namjoon coughs, Jungkook glares at you, and you simply keep grinning like a Cheshire without a care in the world. Dammit what kind of game are you playing? Jungkook clears his throat. The heat is travelling up his spine and through his limbs, leaving his fingers cold and shaky. Namjoon's focus is on Jungkook as well now, no thanks to you, and the weight of all the attention cripples him. He fights to breathe and carefully swallows each gulp of air like he's never breathed before.

"Panic Disorder," he chokes out at last.

"Neat," you say. And that's all. You add nothing else to the simple spoken word, and it nags at the pit already growing in Jungkook's stomach. The vulnerable girl he saw not too long has disappeared. The replacement reminds him of the devil, a demon without care or remorse, because that sickly sweet smile sticks to your lips like glue. If he thought he had you figured out, Jungkook would have to backtrack on everything he's learned about you so far. All the behaviors and mannerisms he thought he could attribute to you permanently are out the window. He doesn't know you, doesn't know anything about you, can't decipher which parts are real and which are the roles you play to throw him off.

"Y/N, don't be mean about it," Namjoon chastises. He flicks your arm, and you retaliate with a soft 'ow', rubbing the skin where he hit you. "It must have taken a lot for him to admit that. The last thing he needs is for you to treat him like a joke. Jungkook, I empathize with you and understand that your struggles must be pretty tough. Being in a new place like this with such…eccentric people around you probably doesn't help much either."

"Thanks…” Jungkook trails off, and embarrassment starts to settle in over the anxiety bubbling in his chest.

"Hey, I get it. It's probably easy for you to feel overwhelmed or like you're drowning, but as far as I can tell from the albeit short amount of time we've interacted, you seem to manage it well. Even so, I think you should be a bit more willing to be vulnerable. Not with Y/N — no offense, but also some offense intended."

"Wow rude, Joon. My heart is hurt."

"Anyways, I'd love to help in whatever way I can. I'm sorry if I've gotten somewhat annoying because I don't answer most of your questions and tell you off for asking so many questions. I'm always willing to be a helping hand though, or a listening ear for when you need it." Namjoon doesn't break his gaze with Jungkook. The younger can't help but to compare Namjoon's offer to Hyewon's earlier one. The overlap is uncanny, and if Jungkook didn't know better, he would almost assume that Namjoon and Hyewon discussed this beforehand. Namjoon, however, just contains that warmth and kindness in him; Jungkook saw it the day he came to the clinic, and it hasn't faltered except for two times. The morning of the fight between you and Mingyu, and when Jungkook asked him about your relationship with Yoongi. Namjoon nudges your side with his elbow all the sudden, breaking his stare with Jungkook.

"You should return the personal answer with one of your own. It's only fair, and it would satiate the poor boy's endless curiosity." Namjoon surely knows what Jungkook would ask you about, especially since it's one of the only questions he has ever asked Namjoon in relation to you. Seeing as Namjoon answered his other questions, that leaves the one. The glance Namjoon exchanges with Jungkook confirms his suspicions as well. Why does he want me to bring that up again? Last time he got defensive and angry with me for asking.

You narrow your eyes at Namjoon's suggestion, and Jungkook can see the way your jaw shifts even from the distance he's at.

Namjoon flashes his dimples your way, taking in the serious expression on your face, then laughs.

"You would never honestly answer a personal question or allow such a question to be asked though."

"You aren't wrong, but I am still awfully curious about what his question would be." You shift your chin in Jungkook's direction, but he can't look at you while Namjoon's gaze bears into his skull. The man shakes his head slightly even though you can't see him. Jungkook knows it's a warning. He knows Namjoon is telling him not to ask. Yet you are presenting a golden opportunity on a silver platter, and Jungkook is greedy. This chance — Jungkook doesn't want to pass it up.

"I would ask about Yoongi and your relationship with him." His voice starts confident, but it dies to a mutter as he sees the way Namjoon's expression shifts.

"If you'll excuse me, I just remembered that I agreed to give Hanuel a book, so I should go take care of that." The stool slides against the tile floor, and a hideous scraping noise rises as it does, Namjoon standing and snapping his journal shut. He doesn't wait for you or Jungkook to offer a farewell or speak at all and makes a hasty exit. If he didn't think Y/N would answer the question, why would he leave?

"I'm sorry, Jeon, but I don't recall that being any of your business. You shouldn't be asking things like that. How many times will I have to repeat myself?"

"You said that you wan—”

"You see, here's the thing. I told you this the first day — the first damn day — and then I reminded you four days ago after your panic attack. Don't. Just don't. Some things will get you in trouble, and some information is withheld for your own good." The illumination in your eyes turns dull as you speak, words leaving your lips with a sharper tone.

"You said that you wanted to know what question I would ask." Jungkook defends his actions, unsure as to why you got so furious all the sudden. "That's all I was doing. I wasn't asking for answers, or expecting them, because Namjoon said you wouldn't answer."

"Okay, fine. You don't need to get all defensive. Just move the fridge now while no one is around."

Jungkook sighs at your response and turns to the fridge. "How much do I need to move it?"

"Four or five inches away from the wall, maybe slant it to the right a bit too."

Jungkook follows your orders without complaint. What is her problem? She said she wanted to know, and all I did was tell her.

"Look, do you want to know why that would be my question? I can tell you the reason if that's why you're upset."

"Who said I was upset? But go ahead and enlighten me, Jungkook."

"I don't know anything about Yoongi. I can't approach him, I don't know what his personality really is like behind the stony front he puts up, and I have no clue how to get on his good side. From what I've seen so far, nothing about your relationship makes sense, even as a friendship. Mingyu and Yesung obviously mentioned Yoongi for a reason, and Yesung asked something too specific that had implications of something besides a friendship. It's not th—”

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I am not asking you to!" Jungkook retorts. He is just as surprised as you are at the volume and vehemence behind his tone. Taking a moment to breathe, Jungkook returns to speaking in a calmer manner. "I simply don't understand a lot of things, and this is one of them. How can you be friends with him when he doesn't do anything to defend you or help you. He did nothing when Yesung and Mingyu verbally attacked you."

"You think I can't fight my own battles? Am I weak to you? Complacent and helpless without a man to back me up? You don't understand and frankly you wouldn't even if someone spelled it out for you." You stand as you speak, leaving the comfort of the stool and stepping away from the counter. "That's not how it works."

"That's not how what works?"

"We are going to carry through with the plans for tonight," you say and blatantly ignore the question Jungkook posed.

"Any time I confront you with something personal, you run away." He regrets the words when you turn around, the fury in your eyes making his blood run cold. Your eyebrows lift as your eyes widen, and the scowl across your lips is nothing short of terrifying.

"Excuse me? That isn't running away from confrontation. It's keeping my private and personal life that way. You aren't a part of that, and I have zero intention of bringing you into my personal life in the future. You don't know me, Jeon Jungkook, and I don't know you. We are simply two people at the same clinic who interact with each other out of necessity. You are nothing but a means to an end. I am in this for myself. I couldn't care less about your side of things, and I am being fucking honest about that too. This is fairly simple, Jungkook. Get your nose out of my business, keep your head down, and do your part of the deal. I won't say it again."

The words bite at his skin, a pinprick sensation all over his body. Nothing but a means to an end. He doesn’t know which version of you is the real one. Nothing. In your eyes, Jungkook is meaningless. Nothing new, no change, and no different from every other hell hole I’ve set foot in. You don’t care about him, and that much is clear. He is merely a fresh fish in the sea of familiarity around you. Since he knows nothing, you can use that against him and everyone else in the clinic.

It shouldn’t hurt as badly as it does, because you have a valid point. Jungkook doesn’t know you, and you don’t know him. The two of you may as well be strangers, like the next door neighbors who merely know each other’s names or the two students who pass one another in the hallway.

“I understand,” Jungkook says through the swell in his throat.

“Good,” you mutter back, head ducked away from Jungkook so he can’t see your face. When you walk away, your pace is slow, and you drag your feet as though unsure of the movements. A glance over your shoulder before you disappear from Jungkook’s sight. Once he can’t see you anymore, he squeezes his eyes shut to block out the image of your expression.

Slam.

A clenched fist makes contact with the side of the fridge, and it trembles under the force of Jungkook’s attack. He brings the same hand up to his forehead, pressing hard against the skin between his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the pressure building up there. It’s in that moment that he realizes the version of you he witnessed in your room — the vulnerable one who spoke without a care — that was not your darkest place. Your darkest place is the version of you that parades throughout the clinic with a mask over you, and Jungkook has to figure out how to face that reality.

...

written by: jungtaeyoongles

a/n: take the survery here!

consider sending me a ko-fi!!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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blueandgoldoffice · 5 years

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any good soulmate fics? i’ve read a few but i love them x

Soulmates are my JAM, friend. There are lots and lots and lots of good ones. Make sure you read and review. Happy Reading! Thanks! ❤ Jandy

This is a gigantic list - so it’s going under a Keep Reading Tag. Enjoy!

@bughead4days has written several: Black and White - Tattoo - Bruises - I Feel You - Mind Reader - Necklace - Half Tattoo - TiMer

Your Eyes Look Like Coming Home (series) by @lana-luthor (2 fics - T)

Summary: People spend their whole lives waiting until the day they can see the world in color; the day they finally meet their soulmate. Sometimes it takes years, decades, nearly lifetimes until you meet that one special person. Unless, of course, you’re Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones who have both seen the world in color since they met each other when they were two years old. Everyone always says that they’re so lucky to have met when they were so young, that they have their whole lives to be together and in love. There’s just one teeny tiny problem. Betty and Jughead hate each other.

I’m half doomed (you’re semi-sweet) (series) by @juggydunes (2 fics - T)

Summary: “Every person has two dates on their wrist. One is when they die and the other is when they find their soulmate. What happens if both dates are the same?”

What Does Shakespeare Know by @typing123 (3 fics - T)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Summary: AU where you can hear the songs your soulmate listens to.

Call Me A Safe Bet by @anactualcaseofthetruth (14/? - M)

Summary: “Even though scientists are still quite baffled after multiple millennia of medical and technological advances of exactly how the soulmarks work, there has been enough research and study that we now know when and how to expect them… There has yet to be one soulmate coupling occur before the female has experienced a menstrual cycle and the male to begin producing sperm. In short, soulmarks have never appeared before entering puberty…There are many, many more cases in which two people have insisted they are soulmates only to not mark with one another. All in all, only about 3% of couplings are correct in predicting they are soulmates before marks form.”

***Betty Cooper is four years old when she meets Jughead Jones. She knows he is her soulmate, he’s not so sure.***

if i told you who i am (can i call you baby?) by @thetaoofbetty (10/10 - M)

Summary: Gasping, Jughead Jones sits up in his bed, blindly reaching for his phone, trying to silence the blaring alarm that had jolted him out of his dream. Frustrated and running a hand through his hair, he turns off his alarm, flopping back on his bed with his arms behind his head as he stares at the ceiling and exhaling slowly. He knew the possibility of the dreams would start after he turned eighteen but he’d never thought they’d be starting on the morning of his birthday. Great, he thinks, gritting his teeth, I already hate my birthday and now I’m getting prophetic dreams about my soulmate, a girl I’ve never met and may never find. Or, in other words, Jughead knows he’s got a soulmate and he’s going to do whatever it takes to find her and win her heart.

Meet Me In the Sky by @curlsandcrown (2/? M)

Summary: Betty and Jughead meet on a flight as seat partners heading to a convention but it turns out they’ll have a life changing discovery instead of just a trip to Australia.

Crowns and Ponytails by @alexintheskyy (2/2 - G)

Summary: Soulmate: your other half, the one who inspires you to be the best version of yourself and embraces all of your flaws just the same. The one person you can’t live without that you will carry with you forever. But how does one know who their soulmate is and how can you know for sure? Luckily, there are soulmarks. Little ever-evolving hints appearing on one’s body at random times, disappearing and being replaced by new every once in a while. If you follow your hints correctly and fall in love with the right person, your soulmate’s name will appear on your body and remain there permanently. Betty Cooper was determined to follow each of her soulmark hints down the correct roads and that, one day, those roads would lead to the boy next door. Jughead Jones, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, definitely thinks that fate has made a mistake in pairing him with the perfect girl next door.

What a Catch by @bugggghead (2/2 - NR)

Summary: Veronica pushes Betty to put herself out there, so when a cute stranger spills coffee on her, she agrees to a date. Little did she know, that fateful decision would change the course of her life.

Black Light by @darknessaroundus (1/1 - G)

Summary: William H. Baylor invented the black light in 1932. At the time he wasn’t sure what purpose it would serve. He speculated that it might help authenticate paintings, but beyond that he wasn’t sure.

It Doesn't have to be a Scary Situation by @typing123 (1/1 - T)

Summary: In a world where the first thought your soulmate thinks about you is written on your skin on your fifteenth birthday...Betty Cooper freaks out.

Colors of the Heart by This_is_my_canoe (1/1 - G)

Summary: “I love you, Betty Cooper.” The words are whispered like a prayer, and Betty feels them warm her skin. She thinks back on all the times he was there for her, even when she pushed him away, even when she was in love with Archie. So, she replies. “I think I love you too.” And that’s enough, at least for now. or “Colors represent the people that mean the most to you. Betty recollects on how she found hers, and how she eventually admits to loving Jughead.”

*Note - this one is just a giant block of text - but it’s really great. Give it a try. It’s really great.

Skin to Skin by @burgerheadjones (12/? - T)

Summary: Jughead Jones doesn’t know how the crimson crescents ended up on his palms.Betty Cooper is clueless when it comes to the messages on her arms. Soulmate AU where all the little marks and injuries belonging to Betty and Jughead start finding themselves on each other’s skin.

The Girl From the Journal by @juggieheadcoopers (6/?)

Summary:Jughead Jones has been writing about a girl he has never met before, but when he leaves his journal at his favorite coffee shop one day, an unsuspecting young woman finds it without knowing that the stranger who wrote it was actually writing about her

I Found You (chapter 3) by Jodygoroar (1/1)

Her by BabyAce is a great story that plays on the part of the trope that has a phrase your soulmate says to you tattooed on your body. It’s really great. More like a Jughead stream of consciousness.

The Exception Not the Rule by pressdbtwnpages (1/1 - G)

Summary: Betty Cooper doesn't believe in soulmates.

Crescent Palmed Girl by @tory-b (1/1 - M)

Summary:Betty Cooper is a nurse at a Psychiatric Hospital. Jughead Jones is one of her patients. He disappears without a word and she ends up with the journal he's been writing to his soulmate.

eyes wide open by @aswellingstorm (1/1 - T)

Summary: “when you can’t sleep, your soul mate can’t either. so the next time you’re laying awake, know that somewhere, someone else is laying awake too.” an au where once you turn 17, you can’t get a wink of sleep unless you’re with your soulmate. the system is pretty flawed, so jughead jones is adamant that there’s no way on earth he’s lucky enough to have betty cooper as his soulmate.

simmer down and pucker up by @santiagone (2/2 - T)

Summary: “Betty,” Jughead interrupts. His voice is lower now, and the resignation might even be scarier than the yelling. “We’re not soulmates. We can't.” And therein lies the crux of the problem.

Just Like Broken Glass by @aswellingstorm (3/3 - M)

Summary: Soulmate AU (inspired by silentpeaches): Where you have the name of your soulmate can appear on your body randomly, at any point in your life. Jughead Jones swears he doesn’t have a soulmate and Betty Cooper for the life of her, cannot think of a single person in her life named “Forsythe”.

Written on My Arm by @typing123 (1/1 - G)

Summary: The first words his soulmate are ever going to say have been scrawled on his arm since the moment he was born. He's had practically his entire life to prepare. And he's still blown out of the water.

save that heart for me by @elizabethbettscooper (1/1 - G)

Summary: But Betty’s mark is small, black and white on her wrist, just over the thin skin where her pulse thrums. It looks like an old, circular typewriter key, and the letter in the middle is a lowercase ‘j’. She isn’t actually sure how she feels about soulmates, but she’s pretty fond of the mark. She imagines it probably belongs to someone bookish, someone who will understand her. Actually, she knows exactly who she thinks it belongs to, but it doesn’t matter.

You're Ingrained In My Skin by @curlsandcrown (1/1 - T)

Summary: In the middle of a major war, Betty meets a pilot who will change her life forever.

Behind The Mask by @futureheartswithbooks (34/40 - M)

Summary: Starting Sixth Year was meant to be the same as starting any other year a part from the apprehensive of discovering your soul mate, but with the disappearance of Jason Blossom looming overhead, this year would not be like any other. Yet, for Betty Cooper, she also had the complication of sifting through the lies of Archie Andrews and attempting to work out just what was going on between her and Jughead Jones, the Serpent Prince.

Snakes and Crowns by @cooperandjonesinc (13/13 - E)

Summary: Betty Cooper just can't seem to fit in at Southside High. It's run down, everyone seems to hate her just on principle, and the people who are running the Red and Black don't want her help at all. To make matters worse her recently divorced mother is trying to find her 'soulmate' by going to conventions and touching as many hands as possible. Betty doesn't even believe in soulmates anyway. Just because some people's nervous systems happen to sync up when they touch for the first time doesn't mean they're soulmates destined to fall in love. Right?

When the Moon hits your Eye by @typing123 (1/1 - G)

Summary: Betty and Jughead find out they're soulmates when they're five years old.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #genre: soulmates #genre: au

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harrys-kiwi · 5 years

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This isn’t a dream. Part two.

Part 1

“Mr. Styles, I’m going to need you to explain to Dr. Worthington what you just told me.”

Harry’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking from the moment he broke down the bathroom door to discover his girlfriend lying on the floor in a small puddle of blood with a large cut on her arm. A million thoughts raced through his mind, and he still hadn’t been able to make sense of what happened.

“She went to the bathroom. I heard glass breaking and I thought I heard her scream so I went to check on her. She wouldn’t open the door so I broke it down and that’s where I found her.”

“She was unconscious?”

“Yes.”

“Now, Mr. Styles, do you have reason to believe that this wound was self-inflicted?”

“No!” Harry scowled. Why would she do something like that? Harry wrote it off completely. He didn’t understand: everything had been so good, why would this happen? Was it an accident? Why wouldn’t (Y/N) let him into the bathroom?

He watched as Dr. Worthington took down a few notes on his pad and then looked up at Harry again.

“We’re going to wait till Ms. (Y/L/N) wakes up so she can explain the situation. We might have to consider getting into touch with the Psychiatric ward.”

“Excuse me?” Harry scoffed. Psychiatric ward? Over what he was sure was just an accident? And yet, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she had done this to herself after all. He couldn’t piece the picture together, though. (Y/N) didn’t have a past with self-harm or mental illness. Nothing serious had happened in the past months. Hell, last night Harry held her as they binged “You” and came up with theories about Joe together. It wouldn’t make any sense.

Every hour that passed with (Y/N) still unconscious, Harry grew more and more antsy. He had too much time to think and he didn’t like it. What if he had overlooked something? Maybe she wasn’t as happy as he thought she was. He was resting his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees - which were currently shaking with nerves. But they stilled when he saw (Y/N)’s hand begin to move.

(Y/N) could feel herself regain consciousness, and grew more and more confident that she had done it; she had successfully restored herself to her normal life again. So it was a very realistic dream, alright. She had learned her lesson: no more attempts at self-hypnosis for lucid dreaming. She noticed how heavy her arm felt, and she flinched at the bright light that met her eyes as she opened them. She sudden movement caused a shooting pain up her arm, and she cried out. She took a look at her surroundings, and felt tears well up in her eyes upon noticing that she was once again in unfamiliar surroundings.

“(Y/N)! Baby, you’re awake, thank god,” Harry reached to pull his girlfriend close to him, desperate to make sure she was okay. He needed to hear her say that it was an accident, that it was all fine, and that she wanted him to take her home now. Instead, she pushed him away as she tried to contain her sobs.

“Why are you pushing me away, love?” Harry whispered, feeling tears well up in his eyes also, overwhelmed by the events of the day, and now this?

“Why do you keep calling me that?” (Y/N) cried out, hiding her face in her hands as she sobbed. It hadn’t worked. She was still here. She felt her heart ache in her chest - what was happening?

“What do you mean?” Harry pleaded with her.

“You don’t know me! This is so weird, don’t you see how weird this is?” She sputtered, as she felt her chest getting heavy again. Her breathing was irregular and Harry grew evermore worried for her. He got up to call the doctor, trying to ignore what she had just told him. He wanted to cry out to her, to have her explain what she meant but he didn’t want to upset her even more.

Dr. Worthington rushed into the room, two nurses hot on his trail. “Ms. (Y/L/N), everything is going to be okay. You’re in a safe place, everything is fine now.”

She could only imagine what she looked like right now. She tried to calm herself down, realizing that she wasn’t helping her credibility. She knew that no one would believe her story, that she just woke up in a different life, but she felt that freaking out like this would only confirm the doctors’ thinking that she was insane. When her breathing had evened out, she spared a glance at Harry. He was standing at the side of the hospital room, eyes bloodshot and a lone tear at the bottom of his chin.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), do you remember what happened? Do you think you can tell us how you got here?”

Of course (Y/N) remembered. But how does she even begin explaining? Oh yeah Doctor, I woke up in a random house that ended up being Harry Styles’ and I stabbed myself so I could wake myself up cause the only logical explanation was that it was a dream. As if anyone would buy that. She tried to think of ways to phrase her story so that it would make sense.

Should I just lie? Tell them that it was an accident, that everything’s okay and then go home with Harry and try to figure this out? What good will it bring me to tell them the truth, they won’t believe me anyway. I’ll drive myself insane.

“I cut myself on some glass, sir. I didn’t think it was that bad. I heard the door knock but I was too dizzy to get up and open it. As I was getting up to try and do so, I must have fainted.” (Y/N) opted for a half-truth.

Dr. Worthington took down some things on his clipboard once again. Then he looked up at (Y/N) and smiled, thanked her for her cooperation, and told her she would be just fine. He gave Harry the okay to take her home, gave some instructions for caring for the wound, gave them an appointment to get the stitches removed, and sent them on their way. After (Y/N) had gotten dressed and made her way outside the room, Dr. Worthington handed her a Psychologist’s contact card, nodded, and left. She tucked it into her bag and made her way to where Harry was waiting.

They walked side by side in silence. What were they supposed to say to each other? Maybe freaking out at him like that wasn’t the right thing to do, but she was in a hell of a position right now. They got into the car, and Harry took a deep breath before grabbing the steering wheel and clenching his jaw.

“(Y/N). I don’t know what’s going on. But I don’t think it’s fair that this is how you treat me after scaring me like this.” He noticed himself getting choked up so he stopped talking, looking down instead.

(Y/N) took his hands into hers, and she felt a wave of calmness wash over her for the first time since she woke up that morning. She stroked his hands with her thumbs, noticing how soft they were. This isn’t his fault. It isn’t easy on him either, poor thing.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’ll try to explain when we get home.” She reached one hand up to his face, wiping away a tear and then cupping his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. Harry lifted the hand that was clasped in hers, gave it a soft kiss, and then started the car to get the two of them home.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for your positive feedback and support for this story! Seeing your positive reactions to this story, which I am so passionate about, is amazing. Love you all, and as always, let me know if you would like a continuation.

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #1d imagines #one direction fan fiction #one direction imagine #one direction #one direction prefrences #imagines #fan fiction #harry styles preference #harry preference #harry x reader #harry styles x reader

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chobit92 · 5 years

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Small World: Joseph/OC Part 27

I do not have as much time as I would like for writing which is why it is taking me so long to get this fic finished. I already know how I am going to end it. I will hopefully be posting my other fic soon which is titled Home which I warn you is over 600 bloody pages...Anyone who is reading this and has been reading from the start I thank you. Enjoy!

Warnings: Self Harm. Death of a child. Suicide.

(Joseph sits hunched over in a chair looking at the floor. He is holding John’s cell phone tightly with both hands. He looks up at John who is lying in a hospital bed heavily sedated. His right arm is bandaged up. The cut was deep. If Joseph hadn’t found him when he did he would have bled out in the tub. Joseph will never forget the sight of his little brother lying lifeless in the tub surrounded by all that blood. John wasn’t messing around. This wasn’t just someone self harming. John was serious about ending his life. The nurses here know it too. Joseph looks down at the padded straps securing Johns wrists to the bed frame. Tears sting his eyes again and he lets out a sob as he takes his brothers hand. He prays quietly. He has been praying ever since he found John lying there like that. He is glad that Lillith wasn’t home. He is glad that she didn’t have to see John like that. He wishes he could un-see it. He finds himself begging the Voice for help. Begging for guidance. He prays that John will be okay. He prays that he isn’t locked away and pumped full of drugs. Drugs are the last thing that John needs. Joseph has worked in a psychiatric hospital. He has seen how the patients are treated. How they are shut away and hidden from society. The Voice does not answer him. Not that he expected it to. He hasn’t heard from the Voice in years. The door opens and Joseph looks up to see Lillith rush in. She lets out a small cry and goes straight to Johns side.). Lillith: Oh John. What have you done? (She leans down and rests her head on his inhaling the scent of his shampoo. She takes hold of Johns hand then looks down at the cuffs on Johns wrists.). Lillith: Why is he chained to the bed? He didn’t try and attack anyone did he? Joseph: No. He was very agitated however. They had to sedate him. He was a danger to himself as much as to others. Lillith: Do you know why he did it? Did he say anything to you before...? Joseph: No. I had been trying to get him to eat but he wouldn’t. He spent most of the day in bed. He wasn’t talking at all. I went to make him lunch and when I came back... (Lillith lets out a sob.). Lillith: I’m so sorry John. This is my fault. Joseph: No it isn’t. Lillith: I left him. He needed me. He needed looking after and I fucking walked out on him! (Lillith is suddenly sobbing.). Joseph: You can’t blame yourself for this. Lillith: I’m his fiancée. We’re meant to be getting married. Joseph: You still can. We are going to help him. Together. Lillith: For better or worse. In sickness and in health. I’ve already broken our vows and I haven’t even said them yet! (Joseph stands up and goes over to her wrapping his arms around her.). Joseph: You haven’t broken any vows. You are here by his side. Like you have always been. He has hurt you so much. You have been through so much. But you are still here. Your love for him is so strong that even after he killed your child here you are in his time of need. (Joseph places his hands on her cheeks and gazes down at her with adoration.). Joseph: You are a beautiful person Lillith. God has guided the two of you together. Just like he guided me to John and will guide me to our brother Jacob. I am so happy that John has someone like you in his life. He doesn’t believe that he deserves you but that’s not true. He just cannot see what a gift he has been given. But he will see. You and I are going to make him see. (He places a kiss on her forehead then wipes her tears away with his thumbs.). Joseph: Would you like a cup of coffee? Lillith: I...Yes. Please. Joseph: I’ll be back in a moment. (Joseph leaves the room. Lillith sits down and sighs. She doesn’t really need all of this God stuff right now. She’s never been one for religion. She isn’t sure she believes in God. Yet as she looks at John lying there pale and cuffed to the bed she finds herself praying anyway. * (Joseph sits sipping coffee. He looks over at Lillith. She is sat there stroking John’s hair, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. She has been as still as a statue for the past seven hours. John woke up several times but he was groggy and confused. Lillith told him that she was sorry and that she loved him. Joseph had to fight back tears as Lillith showed him exactly how devoted she is to his little brother.). Lillith: You can give up on me. You can give up on us. But don’t you dare give up on yourself. You’re not allowed to give up on yourself. I won’t let you. Do you hear me John? I won’t let you. (Joseph lost the battle and ended up going into the bathroom where he broke down completely. The door opens and Franky walks in. She goes over to Lillith who gets up when she sees her and the two girls hug. Lillith starts to sob.). Franky: Oh my girl. It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay. I came straight from work. (This is obvious as Franky is only wearing a tiny mini skirt so short that it might as well just be a belt and a black corset which doesn’t cover much. Franky rubs Lillith’s back then looks at Joseph.). Franky: I’m sorry. For how I was on the phone. I didn’t realise he was this bad and...I was angry at him for upsetting Lillith again. Joseph: It’s forgotten. Franky: Did anyone want coffee? Lillith: Yeah that’d be great. Joseph: Please. (Franky leaves the room. Lillith sits back down and takes hold of John’s hand. She then goes back to stroking his hair.). Lillith: I love you. Lots and lots with Jelly tots. John: And vodka shots. (Lillith looks up as John opens his eyes.). Lillith: Hey. (She lets out a sob. Joseph takes John’s other hand.). John: My head is killing me. Lillith: That’s probably the sedatives. John: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Lillith: Sssh. (She leans over him and presses a kiss to his lips.). Lillith: Why didn’t you call me? John: You left. Why would I have called you? Lillith: Because you were obviously in a state. If you had called me and told me you felt like this...That you were going to... (She swallows a sob.). Lillith: I would have come back. John: You always come back. Lillith: Of course I do. I love you. John: I don’t deserve you. Lillith: Yes you do. Don’t talk like that. (Franky comes back in balancing three coffees.). Franky: Hey. You scared the shit out of us mate. John: Sorry. (Lillith squeezes his hand.). Lillith: It’s going to be okay John. John: No it isn’t. It’s all crap. All of it. Lillith: Even me? John: No. Not you. Never you. You have been the only good thing to ever happen to me. But I’m no good for you. Lillith: Well tough tits coz I love you. (She kisses the back of his hand.). Joseph: As do I brother. As do I. * (John sits on the bed staring at the wall. He looks down at his wrist where his name is written on a white band. He sighs. Sectioned. He has been sectioned of all things! He is once again glad of the wealth his parents left him. Money can buy a lot of things. It has bought him a very private facility. Very expensive. But the place is still very much like a prison. The door to his room is locked and he can’t switch off the light. Every so often someone presses their face against the window in the door to peer in at him. The room itself isn’t bad however. He even has his own en suite bathroom. They have confiscated several of his belongings, which Lillith went back to the apartment to fetch for him, including his phone charger. The battery died an hour ago. He can’t even contact anyone. He finds himself wishing that Lillith was here with him right now. He lies down and curls up on the bed. He closes his eyes and imagines Lillith lying next to him, stroking his hair and peppering soft kisses over his back and shoulder. His anger recedes giving way to tears. He cries far longer than he ever has his entire life. He hates the world and everyone in it. He hates his life and he hates himself. Sure he can kid himself that the charming lawyer big shot John Duncan is so important. But he knows deep down that if he were to remain locked away in here for the rest of his life nobody would notice or care. Nobody would give a shit. He grabs the pillow and hugs it to his chest burying his face in it to muffle his sobs. Why couldn’t he have just died?).

#Far Cry 5 #Mr Writing #Writing #Joseph Seed #Homeless Joe #original character #Small World #Chance Meeting #Rome Georgia #Atlanta Georgia #John Seed #John Duncan #Lillith Duncan-Seed

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j-k-notrowling · 5 years

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Untitled

Hi there! Spoilers up front: this is a gratuitously long-winded “thank you,” not an Ask (also I’m 31 and don’t know how to Social Media so apologies if this is the wrong page/tab/link/widget).

--(oh actually it’s a blog post now because of course I can’t send an “Ask” this stupidly long see? wasn’t kidding about that Social Media thing...)--

I started writing my first book in the Fall of 2016. Before that I’d only written songs. One day I got an idea which didn’t fit within the usual rhymes or rhythms. I tried and tried, but kept on hitting a wall. In addition, I was fed up with the whole “business” of music—the fragile egos, the politics of being in a band, all that. One morning I sat down at my HP desktop computer (again...31) and opened up a blank Word document. I stared at it with murderous intent for a long time, but nothing happened. So I grabbed the nearest book off the shelf (Crash by J.G. Ballard), opened it, and began to type out the first paragraph, copying the sentences line by line. I wanted to see what it felt like — my clumsy fingers pecking at the keyboard, observing how the words fell into place with a musical cadence and tempo almost prophetic, as though the ink were destined to dry in this exact form upon the page, the machinery of its tumultuous birth and impeccable design skillfully concealed. I paused and looked out the window. There was a squirrel on the deck, I remember. And then I saw it. Not outside but inside my own head, behind my eyelids. The song, the one I’d been struggling to write, I saw that it could be a story. I saw it had a clear beginning, middle, and end. I saw a world of characters opening doors to other worlds, other stories, other characters. This was life-changing shit. Suddenly I was a little boy at my first baseball game, drinking my first ice-cold Coke, surrounded by old men chain-smoking Marlboro Reds and muttering dirty words I’d never heard before about the [EXPLETIVES DELETED] on the opposing team. I’d discovered a fire fueled by the psychic anarchy of its own discovery, a Moebius-strip of dramatic invention, a repository for all the pop-cultural turds floating around inside the cracked porcelain toilet bowl of my skull. I wrote prose every night after work. I never thought about what I was doing. I never once stopped to check word counts or page counts. I never thought about sticking to an outline, making sure my story adhered to a specific plot structure, none of that. I wrote like a man in love. Delirious, overheated teenage love. Wear-my-ill-fitting-letterman’s-jacket love (is this also A Thing™️ in Canada?). Stupid stupid stupid love, naive and hormonal and precious and retrospectively mortifying. I’d turn off the world, turn on the music, sit back and watch the words sashay straight into my lap. It took 2-3 months before the ruthless scourge known as Self Doubt farted in my private elevator. Am I doing this right? How many words are in a book, anyway? How many pages? How long is this going to take? Is this an effective way to impress women and/or get laid? Am I writing a novel or a novella? The fuck is “flash fiction”? Are you allowed to write actual books in Microsoft Word? Does it matter that my free trial version of Microsoft Word expires in 30 days? They’re bluffing, right? And so on. I compared my own writing with that of authors I admired; subsequently, I couldn’t get out of bed for a week. I watched 40+ hours of “Kitchen Nightmares” reruns (it’s. the. same. fucking. formula. every. single. episode.) and nursed my shame with bowl after bowl of strawberry ice cream. To think — I’d TOLD people about this fool’s errand, and sooner or later I’d have to show them precisely how awful a writer I was... I turned to the Internet for advice. At first, it seemed like a godsend. There was such a litany of knowledge, so many pro-tips and life hacks and proven formulas for success. This was how I stumbled across your channel. I found other channels which offered more straightforward “DO IT LIKE THIS YOU FUCKING IDIOT” instructions, but I still enjoyed yours the most. I lol-ed at your jokes. I remember a few videos where you spoke highly about All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, which remains among the most achingly beautiful books I’ve ever read. Also you’re Canadian, and you guys just generally Human better than we (Americans) Human. ...and here my troubles began. See, the more I tried to adhere to word count goals, the more I tried to properly organize the scenes on my Scrivener™️ virtual cork board, the less I enjoyed the actual process of writing. So I tried other things, based upon other writers’ suggestions: cut the adverbs, write in the morning, write at night, write during your lunch break, write an outline, stick to the outline, write x amount of pages per day, write x number of hours per day, spend x amount of hours drafting and x amount of hours editing, etc. But nothing I tried made me feel confident in my writing. I started actively hating it, to be honest. I dreaded the cursor and the infinite white void. Then I would watch more writing videos and feel guilty about my lack of ambition, my inability to accomplish simple tasks. It’s only a few thousand words, dude — just get in there and do it. Eventually I would. I’d grumble and feel miserable and stay locked in my little writing dungeon all night, ignoring my friends’ texts and phone calls, and the next day I’d hate everything I wrote, trash it, and start over. Then, when I had no more writing left to hate, I started hating myself. The words in my head turned malignant, putrefied into spongy, black tumors. I’d spend all day at work consumed by thoughts and ideas and goals! goals! goals! for my book, then I’d come home and stare at a blinking cursor and wonder why I was such a worthless failure. I couldn’t write the way these other writers did, no matter what I tried. But I still wanted to write. Needed to, in that yearning, terrible way I suspect you understand. I don’t know why The Internet subconsciously invites us to flay ourselves before total strangers, but it does. So I will. Shit got Dark™️, Shaelin. I gained 50 pounds, started living like a hoarder, stopped hanging out with my friends, stopped leaving the house altogether. I kept the curtains closed so my neighbors wouldn’t see the piles of empty take-out boxes stacked up on the kitchen table. I traded the pleasures and contradictions and beguiling enigmas of women for the 24-hour neon distraction of cheap porno. My cat Maggie, basically the only friend I had during this time, got cancer. I watched her suffer and waste away because I couldn’t bear the thought of putting her to sleep and coming home alone to an empty, filthy house. Eventually she died and I hated myself even more for not being able to save her. I wore the same pair of pants for six months. I’d go to work and sit at my desk all day and do absolutely nothing (I was the accounting manager at a small company, technically my own “boss,” so I got away with this for a shocking, frankly heroic amount of time). Then I simply stopped going to work. And I kept torturing myself with those stupid goals and word counts, never happy with the end result, resigned to feel like a failure every day. I remember watching your “Spill the Tea” video back when it was initially posted. Watching it now is eerie, because you describe exactly what I was going through, what I was feeling. Like, to the “T” (see what I did there? #WordPlay #LitPuns101). I’d never experienced anxiety/depression before, so I didn’t really understand what was happening to me. Not that it mattered, because by that point the damage was done. I couldn’t recognize and isolate the real problem. I’d given up. Even though you said a lot of things in that video I desperately, desperately needed to hear, I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen to you, because you were one of Them™️. Your eyes were bright and your voice sounded friendly and encouraging, but your name wasn’t McCarthy or Pynchon or DeLillo or Nabokov. You were just a kid. What could you possibly know that I didn’t? In January of this year I called a local psychiatric hospital and told them I was planning to kill myself. I never harbored any true intentions of doing that, but I figured they’d offer me a nice three-week vacation in a padded cell. Considering the circumstances, it honestly seemed like a relief. I ended up quitting my job, selling my house, and moving back in with my parents 300 miles away. I started seeing a therapist once a week (still do, for the record). So far I’ve lost 30 pounds of the 50 pound surplus I acquired. I kept watching your videos, even though I was no longer in the market for writing advice (#JustHereForTheSnark). You kept me lol-ing through some bad days and weeks and months. I’d listen to you talk about problems with the writing community and nod my head like an old woman in church (#ShaelinSermons™️ #SheTeachesANDShePreaches), but I still hadn’t made the connection with my own issues. I swore off writing completely, went back to playing music. Cover songs in coffee shops and family restaurants. It was fun for awhile. I genuinely felt happier. But my story was still an old pebble poking around in my shoe...calling out, issuing playground taunts, drawing hairy cartoon dicks on my forehead while I slept. About a month ago I stared down another blank page, my first since experiencing that fun-sized nervous breakdown earlier this year. I closed my eyes and heard your voice in my head. “You can do whatever you want.” I had no goals, no arbitrary quotas to meet. I wrote a few lines, stopped, fixed a couple things I wasn’t satisfied with, and then went on with my day. I thought about what I’d written, sure, but I didn’t worry or spend the whole day stressing out. The next morning I read over what I’d done, and I didn’t hate it. I thought it was actually pretty good, funny and off-kilter and a little/lotta fucked up. So I sat down and wrote some more. Took some things out, re-worded stuff, dressed up the bones in silver and pearls. Addition and subtraction. Before I knew it, I’d finished a whole page. Then another. And then the hair on the back of my neck stood up, because I remembered: This is how it felt at the beginning. Back when I was young and love-struck and writing only to catch those moments of pure levitation, that devilish tickle, that rush of blood propelled by my own wild heart. It’s been a rough road, but I finally found what I’d lost. I figured out how to write again and enjoy it. And ultimately, the best writing advice I received didn’t come from McCarthy or Pynchon or DeLillo or Nabokov. It came from a young woman in another country with a camera and a nose ring and a big tapestry and bigger dreams which run parallel to my own. So thank you. Thank you for taking time out of your busy life and braving the Steaming Pile™️ that is The Internet to offer words of empathy and encouragement to complete strangers. Thank you for the wisdom you share. Thank you for being who you are. Know that tonight the stars shine brighter as a result. They do for me, at least. (Also I’m sincerely sorry about the absurd length of this “Ask” wherein no actual questions were posed and nothing substantial was communicated beyond a simple yet torturously delayed “thank you” kthxbye #longlivethenewtapestry

—Justin)

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bechloeislegit · 6 years

Text

Love Thy Neighbor? - Chapter 6

It was a lazy Saturday morning and Beca and Chloe we lounging on the sofa in Beca's living room. Beca was sitting in the middle and Chloe was leaning against the arm with her legs in Beca's lap. Beca's head was turned slightly so she could stare at Chloe.

"What?"

"You're really, really pretty," Beca said.

"You're not so bad yourself," Chloe replied.

"You know our six month anniversary of the day we met is coming up next week," Beca said.

"I know," Chloe said. "I have something planned for us."

"You do?," Beca asked.

"Of course I do," Chloe said. "It's a surprise."

"Hmmm," Beca said. "Are you going to tell me what it is? Or do I have to guess."

"Nope, not telling," Chloe said. "And I wouldn't tell you if you guessed anyway. Surprise. Remember?"

"Well, I hope you haven't planned anything for next weekend," Beca said with a smirk.

"I haven't," Chloe said. "But, why shouldn't I?"

"I've planned a weekend getaway for us," Beca said.

"Really?," Chloe said, moving to sit closer to Beca. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Beca said. "It's a surprise."

"Hmm, I'm not sure how I feel about surprises," Chloe said and straddled Beca's lap. She put her arms around Beca's shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. "Will you tell me where we're going?"

"Um, no," Beca said putting her hands on Chloe's hips. "Surprise. Remember?"

Chloe placed light kisses along Beca's jawline, slowly moving toward her lips. She met Beca's lips and gave her a slow, sensuous kiss. Chloe pulled back, and Beca sat with a dazed look on her face.

"How about now?"

"Still, uh, still no," Beca said. "But we will definitely be doing more of that."

Chloe leaned in to kiss Beca again when someone started banging on the door. Beca and Chloe's heads jerked to look over at the door.

"Beca, let me in," Carrie's voice yelled from the other side of the door. "I need to see Chloe."

"Is she crying?," Beca asked.

"It sounds like it," Chloe said as she got off Beca's lap and the two hurried to the door.

Chloe pulled open the door to find Carrie standing there with tears running down her face. "Ai-Aid-Aidan." She mumbled something else, but she was crying so hard Chloe couldn't understand what she said.

Chloe pulled Carrie into her arms and hugged her. "What about Aidan? Is he okay?"

"He, he, he," Carrie stuttered and pulled back from Chloe.

"He what?," Beca asked. "What did he do, Carrie?"

"He proposed," Aidan's voice said from the doorway.

Beca and Chloe looked from Carrie to Aidan and back to Carrie who was holding up her left hand showing off her engagement ring. She stood there with a huge smile on her face, nodding as the tears continued to fall. Chloe squealed and grabbed Carrie into a hug. Beca pulled Aidan into the apartment and hugged him.

"Oh, my God," Chloe said. "This is great news. Do mom and dad know yet?"

"No," Carrie said sniffling. "He just asked me, and I came right over here to tell you."

"Dude, it sure took you long enough," Beca said to Aidan.

Chloe and Carrie looked at Beca. "You knew he was going to propose?," Carrie asked.

"Um, I, he uh, well," Beca stuttered. Chloe looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Fine. Yes, I knew. He asked me to help him find a ring like two months ago. Sorry, dude."

"It's okay, Beca," Aidan said with a laugh. "I would have told her eventually."

"Why Beca?," Chloe asked Aidan with a pout "Why didn't you ask me?"

"No offense, babe, but you would have told her," Beca said.

"I would not," Chloe said indignantly.

It was Beca's turn to look at Chloe with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay, fine," Chloe scoffed. "I probably would have."

"We want to go out and celebrate," Carrie said. "You guys up for it? We were going to ask Aubrey, Stacie, Jesse, and Amy, too."

"I am if Chloe is," Beca said.

"Let's do it," Chloe said with a big smile. "Where are we going?"

Carrie looked at Aidan, and both smiled. "Karaoke!"

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Beca always got a little anxious when they came to the karaoke bar. It was the same place that her stalker, Anita Michaels, had tried to abduct her at gunpoint six months earlier. She subconsciously put her hand on her side and held it over her ribs. She always had one of the girls go to the restroom with her whenever they were there.

Beca knew she didn't have to worry, but it didn't stop her. Anita Michaels had been charged with attempted murder and attempted kidnapping. She was found not guilty by reason of insanity and would be confined to a psychiatric facility for a minimum of 25 years. Through it all Beca was able to retain her anonymity as Reggie B.

Chloe and Carrie chatted as they walked into the karaoke bar ahead of Beca and Aidan. Beca stops when Aidan grabs her by the arm.

"I need your help," Aidan told Beca.

"What can I do?," Beca asked.

"I want to sing to Carrie," Aidan said nervously. "I'm not very good, but I thought maybe you could help me with a song."

"Do you have one in mind?," Beca asked.

Aidan gave her a big grin and said, "Yes, I do."

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Aidan went to put his song in with the karaoke emcee, and Beca veered to the bar to get some champagne. The bartender opened the bottle and poured the champagne. Beca waved Jesse over to help her carry everything back to the table.

"Here we go," Jesse said. "Champagne to toast the newly engaged couple."

Beca grabbed two glasses and made her way to sit next to Chloe. She handed Chloe a glass and told her she should make a toast since Carrie was her sister.

"Okay," Chloe stood and got everyone's attention. "Here's to my sister, Carrie, and her fiance, Aidan. Aidan, I heard about you long before I met you. When Carrie came out to L.A. to work as the head trauma nurse at UCLA Trauma Center, I was afraid she was going to continue to be the workaholic she was back in Florida. But, just a few months after coming here she called to tell me about this handsome patient she had. Then a few weeks after that, she called all excited about you asking her out. That was over three years ago. In that time I've come to know you, and I can see that you love my sister unconditionally. You treat her how she deserves to be treated, and I couldn't have found a better man for her than you. Congratulations. I love you both!"

"Hear, hear," everyone yelled and sipped their champagne.

"That was really nice," Beca said wiping a tear from Chloe's cheek.

"Thank you," Carrie said and pulled Chloe into a hug. Aidan put his arms around Carrie, pulling Chloe in as well.

"Okay," Jesse said. "Let's sing!"

Jesse, Amy, and Stacie went to put in their songs. Just as they were getting back to the table Aidan's name was called to sing. Carrie looked at him curiously.

"This is for you, babe," Aidan told her as he and Beca went to the stage.

"Beca?," Chloe called out. Beca turned to look at her, smiled, and just shrugged her shoulders.

"This is for my fiance, Carrie," Aidan said into the microphone. "We just got engaged a few hours ago."

The crowd clapped and cheered.

Beca could see that Aidan was really nervous, so she leaned over and said, "I'll start, and you come in when you feel comfortable. Okay?"

Aidan nodded his head. "Thanks."

The music started, and Beca looked right at Chloe as she took the lead.

I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy. I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need. I love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do I will be strong, I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on a new beginning. A reason for living. A deeper meaning.

I want to stand with you on a mountain. I want to bathe with you in the sea. I want to lay like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me

Aidan was feeling confident and decided to join in. Beca looked at Aidan and smiled as she let him take over. She looked back over to Chloe. Chloe was sitting there biting her lip, mesmerized by how good her girlfriend sounded.

And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky, I'll make a wish send it to heaven then make you want to cry The tears of joy for all the pleasure and the certainty. That we're surrounded by the comfort and protection of The highest power, in lonely hours, the tears devour you

Aidan's voice faltered, so Beca joined back in and made it a duet. Aidan was doing a decent job, and he was staring at Carrie the whole time.

I want to stand with you on a mountain, I want to bathe with you in the sea. I want to lay like this forever, Until the sky falls down on me

Oh can you see it baby? You don't have to close your eyes 'Cause it's standing right before you. All that you need will surely come

I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy. I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need. I'll love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do

I want to stand with you on a mountain I want to bathe with you in the sea. I want to lay like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me

I want to stand with you on a mountain I want to bathe with you in the sea. I want to live like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me

When the song ended, Beca and Aidan were wearing big smiles on their faces as the Beale women came running to the stage. Carrie and Aidan kissed, and Chloe and Beca kissed as the crowd stood to applaud them.

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Later that night, more like early the next morning, Beca and Chloe were laying in bed. Chloe had her head on Beca's shoulder, and Beca had her arm around Chloe.

"There's something I've been wanting to ask you," Beca said nervously.

Chloe tilted her head up to look at Beca. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, um, everything's fine," Beca said. "I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to move in with me?"

Chloe sat up on the bed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Beca responded, sitting up and facing Chloe. "I mean, you're here practically every night anyway. And I really love you, and it would be nice-"

Chloe threw herself into Beca 's arms and kissed her. "Yes, absolutely, yes!"

"Yes!," Beca said and smiled. "How soon do you want to move in?"

"Oh," Chloe said and sat thinking. "Well, I have two months left on my lease. Plus, I'll have to go through everything and get rid of a bunch of stuff. Maybe sell some stuff."

"Why don't we just rent you one of those self-storage units," Beca suggested. "Just until we can find a house. That way, you can keep your stuff, and we can figure out how to consolidate everything."

"You think about us buying a house together?," Chloe asked.

"Well, yeah," Beca said. "Don't you? I mean, I'm in this for the long haul, Chloe. I see us buying a house, getting married, and even having kids someday." Beca paused and searched Chloe's face. "Or do you not want that?"

Beca was trying to keep her face neutral, while on the inside her stomach was in a knot and her throat was dry. What if Chloe doesn't want all that? What if she doesn't see them having a future together?

"I didn't think you'd want all that with me," Chloe said teary-eyed.

"Why wouldn't I want all that with you?," Beca asked incredulously. "You're it for me, Chlo. I knew I wanted a future with you a few days after we met. And I pray to God every day that you want a future with me, too."

"I'd love to have all that with you," Chloe said and leaned in to give Beca a gentle kiss. "I love you."

Beca reached up and wiped the tears from Chloe's cheek. "I love you, too."

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

The next day, Beca and Chloe were having brunch with Carrie and Aidan. Carrie smiled and looked at Chloe.

"What?"

"What's going on with you?," Carrie asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Chloe said trying to hide her smile.

"That, that right there," Carrie said using her finger to swirl it around Chloe's face. "You're up to something."

"No, I'm not," Chloe said with a laugh. "It's just that we are going to be neighbors."

"Neighbors?," Aidan asked.

"Oh, my God," Carrie said and hugged Chloe. "You're moving in with Beca?"

"Yep," Chloe said. "She asked me when we got back to her place last night."

"That's great," Carrie said. "It will be really helpful in the coming months to have you right next door."

"Helpful?," Chloe asked. "Helpful for what?"

"In planning my wedding," Carrie said. "I want you to be my Maid of Honor. Will you?"

Chloe squealed a yes and jumped up and grabbed Carrie in a hug. She sat back down and asked, "Do you guys have a date yet?"

"We talked about it last night," Aidan said. "We want to do it in exactly one year; on the date I asked her."

"It was Aidan's idea," Carrie gushed. "Isn't he just the most romantic thing you've ever seen."

"Sheesh, Carrie," Beca said with a grin. "Dial it back a notch; you already have the ring."

Chloe and Aidan laughed, and Carrie slapped at Beca's arm. "Oh, hush, you."

"We need to get started with the planning," Chloe said. "Where are you getting married?"

"We're thinking of doing it in Florida," Carrie said. "My, our, family is there, and most of Aidan's are in Savannah. We thought it would be easier for his family to get to Tampa than to try and have everyone fly out here."

"That sounds great," Chloe said. "Let's plan a weekend trip home, and we can look at places to hold your reception. We need to get that booked first."

"How about next weekend?," Carrie said. "I have the weekend off. I'm not sure when I'll have another for a while. And I want to get started as soon as possible."

"Oh, I can't next weekend," Chloe said. "Beca has something planned for our six-month anniversary."

"Go to Florida with Carrie," Beca said. "I'll change our reservations to the weekend after."

"Really?," Chloe asked. "You're okay with doing that?"

"Absolutely," Beca said. "This is important, Chlo. We'll have plenty of anniversaries and milestones to celebrate in the future. Your sister is only getting married once." She looked at Carrie with a mischievous grin. "You are planning on only getting married once, right?"

Carrie just stuck her tongue out at Beca, causing everyone to laugh.

"I'll even spring for your tickets to Tampa," Beca told the two Beales. "Sort of an engagement present for Carrie."

"This is why I love you so much," Chloe said and kissed Beca. She turned to Carrie and said, "Looks like we're going to Florida next weekend."

Carrie looked at Aidan and asked, "What about you, Aid? Can you come to Tampa with us?"

"I'm sorry, baby, but I have to be here," Aidan said, looking at Carrie. "But I trust you, and anything you decide is fine with me."

"And, this is why I love you so much," Carrie said with a smile as she kissed Aidan.

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Chloe had been back from her trip to Florida with Carrie for about a month. She was walking around Beca's apartment with her brow furrowed and lips turned down in a frown.

"What's wrong?," Beca asked as she watched Chloe.

"I'm trying to figure out where I can put my desk," Chloe said. "I need a place to work on lesson plans, grading papers, and that sort of thing for when school starts back up again in September."

"Oh, is that all?," Beca asked with a grin. "Follow me."

Chloe looked at Beca. Beca reached her hand out, and Chloe took it. Beca led Chloe down the hall to her 'trophy' room and opened the door. Chloe stepped in and gasped. All the awards and plaques were gone. The only thing in the room was a desk with some of Beca's mixing equipment on it. The other half of the room was bare.

"Beca?"

"I had everything moved into storage," Beca said. "I always felt weird about having the awards on display in a locked room when I was keeping my identity a secret. I'll make a new trophy room in our new house."

"Beca, this is so sweet of you," Chloe said.

"I thought we could both use this as an office for now," Beca said.

"I love it," Chloe said, wrapping her arms around Beca's waist. "And, no matter how many rooms are in our new house I want to continue to have a shared office. Can we do that?"

"Whatever you want, babe," Beca said, and Chloe pulled her into a kiss.

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Over the next month, Carrie, Beca, and Aubrey helped Chloe pack up her stuff for storage. Moving day was finally here, and Beca hired a truck and movers to transfer everything from Chloe's apartment to the storage unit. She also rented a van that Aidan had volunteered to drive to take the few things Chloe wanted to have in their now shared apartment.

Once everything was moved, and the trucks returned, Beca had everyone over and ordered pizza. Jesse and Stacie came by as the pizza arrived and they joined the party. It had been a long day, and Carrie and Aidan were getting ready to leave.

"Thank you guys for your help," Chloe told Carrie as she hugged her. "You guys sleep well."

"We will," Carrie said. "I was going to say it's going to be great having you as a neighbor, but you've practically been one for the past four months."

"Just think of all the wedding planning we can get done," Chloe said.

"That's for another day," Carrie said. "I'm taking this one home to bed."

"Lucky me," Aidan said waggling his eyebrows.

"Ew, get out of here," Beca said laughing as she pushed Carrie toward the door.

Carrie laughed. "Just cover your ears, Beca. That's what I do so I can't hear you and Chloe."

"Wh-what?" Beca blushed and looked at Aidan and then at Carrie. "Really? You can hear us?"

"God, you are so cute," Carrie said. "Good night."

Carrie and Aidan left, and Beca looked at Chloe. "Can they really hear us? I don't think I've heard them. Have you heard them? Oh, God, I can never have sex in this apartment again."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Chloe said. "I might have something to say about that."

Chloe was laughing as the couple went back to their guests. Later that night they were laying in bed and started kissing. Things were getting heated, and Chloe was really getting into it, but Beca kept holding back.

Chloe let out a huff and looked at Beca. "Are you seriously not going to have sex with me on my first night here?"

"What if Carrie can really hear us?"

"She was just yanking your chain," Chloe said as she started kissing Beca's neck until she reached the spot under Beca's ear. She knew this was one of Beca's weak spots and really got into it. Beca started moaning, and after about 30 seconds, she didn't care who could hear her.

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Beca and Chloe were spending Christmas at the Beales' home in Tampa. This is the first time that Beca is meeting the Beales in person, and she was a bit nervous.

The two couples got out of the car Beca had hired to bring from the airport to Beales' home. Chloe and Carrie ran to the door to greet their parents while Beca and Aidan got the luggage.

"You're going to love Carl and Charlotte," Aidan said as they unloaded the suitcases. "And, they'll love you. You make Chloe happy, and that's all they care about."

"I'm really nervous," Beca said. "I haven't met anyone's parents in a long time."

"Just be yourself," Aidan said. "You'll be fine."

Beca and Aidan carried the suitcases to the door where Chloe and Carrie were still greeting their parents.

"Beca, come here," Chloe said grabbing Beca's arm. "Mom, daddy. This is my girlfriend, Beca."

"Mr. and Mrs. Beale, it's a pleasure to meet you," Beca said. She felt slightly awkward standing there in front of Chloe's parents still holding onto the suitcases.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Beca," Mrs. Beale said. "Please call me Charlotte."

"You can call me Carl," Mr. Beale said.

"Thank you," Beca said.

"Aidan, you devil you," Charlotte said. "Give me a hug, son."

Aidan hugged Charlotte and shook Carl's hand. Beca stood there unsure of what to do.

"Oh, come in, come in," Charlotte finally said. "Chloe, show Beca where to take your bags. Aidan, you know where those go."

"Yes, ma'am," Aidan said and went upstairs.

"Follow me, Beca," Chloe said.

Beca followed Chloe upstairs and set their suitcases in Chloe's old bedroom. She looked around and stopped at the wall where Chloe had several photos hung. She smiled when Chloe came up behind her and put her arms around Beca's waist.

"I'm so glad you're here," Chloe said and kissed Beca's shoulder.

"I wouldn't want to be anyplace else," Beca said leaning back against Chloe.

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Beca and Chloe were rudely awakened on Christmas morning when Carrie jumped on Chloe while she and Beca were sleeping.

"Wake up you sleepyheads," Carrie yelled as she bounced on her knees while straddling Chloe.

"God, Care," Chloe said trying to push her sister off of her. "This was cute when you were eight. Now it's just annoying."

"But, it's Christmas," Carrie said. "We can't open presents until everyone is up and had breakfast. Mom's making Christmas pancakes."

"Pancakes?," Beca asked as she sat up in bed. "I'm up."

"Fine," Chloe said. "We'll be down in a few minutes."

"Okay," Carrie said and jumped off the bed. "You've got ten minutes or else I'll come back with a bucket of water."

Carrie hurries out of the room. Beca looked at Chloe and asked, "She wouldn't really come back with a bucket of water would she?"

"Yes, she would," Chloe responded. "And has."

Beca hurried off the bed and started to gather some clothes.

"What are you doing?," Chloe asked.

"Getting dressed," Beca said.

"No," Chloe said taking Beca's clothes out of her hands and throwing them on the bed. "We always open presents in our pajamas."

"Oh," Beca said.

"Come on," Chloe said. "Let's brush our teeth and get downstairs before Carrie comes back up."

Everyone is done eating breakfast. Well, everyone except for Beca. She is still stuffing her face with pancakes when she notices everyone is staring at her.

"What?"

"We want to open presents," Carrie whined.

"You're taking too long to eat," Chloe whined.

"Sorry," Beca said shoveling in the last two bites. "But, these are really good pancakes."

Beca swallows and drinks down the last of her coffee. "Okay, I'm ready."

"YES!," Chloe and Carrie squeal and go running into the family room.

"Are they always like this?," Beca asked with a laugh.

"Not usually," Carl said. "This is tame compared to most years."

"I guess they're growing up," Charlotte said and laughed.

Presents were opened, and Carrie looked over at Beca with raised eyebrows. Beca looked nervously back at her.

"Um, Chlo," Beca said. "There's, um, there's one more present for you."

"There is?," Chloe asked her eyes wide.

"Yeah," Beca said and stood up and went to the Christmas tree.

Beca went toward the back of the tree and took off one of the ornaments. She walked back over to Chloe and held the ornament in her hand.

Beca cleared her throat. "Chloe, this is our first Christmas together, and I thought we should start some of our own traditions. So, I got you this ornament to put on our tree. It's a keepsake ornament and has a hidden compartment so you can put something special in it."

Beca handed the ornament to Chloe, and Chloe kissed her.

"Look in the compartment," Beca told her. "I hid your final gift in there."

Chloe gave her a confused look and looked around at everyone. They were sitting and watching to see what was inside the compartment. Chloe looks at it.

"There's a hinge, and the top and bottom pull apart," Beca said.

Chloe held the bottom of the ornament and pulled the top up. Her hand went to her mouth, and she gasped.

"Beca?"

Beca reached over and took out the gift that was sitting inside. She then slid down to one knee next to the sofa and looked up at Chloe. Chloe already had tears in her eyes and Beca smiled at her.

"Chloe," Beca started and had to stop to clear her throat. "Chloe, I love you, and I can't think of anyone else I want to spend the rest of my life with." Beca held up the ring and asked, "Chloe Marie Beale, will you marry me?"

Chloe choked out a tearful yes and dropped the ornament onto the sofa. Beca put the ring on Chloe's finger and pulled her up into a kiss. Chloe kissed her back and started laughing and crying at the same time. Beca pulled back from the kiss and wiped at Chloe's tears.

"I love you," Beca whispered.

"I love you, too," Chloe whispered back. She leaned into Beca for another kiss.

They broke apart when they heard Carrie squeal just before she tackled them both. Everyone started congratulating the newly engaged couple and Chloe hadn't let go of Beca since she put the ring on her finger.

"It's gorgeous, Beca," Charlotte said.

"I thought you were going to chicken out," Carrie said looking at the ring.

"Wait," Chloe said. "You knew about this?"

"Only for the past five days," Carrie said. "She came to me the other day about it."

"I'd love to hear how that went," Aidan said with a smile.

"I'll tell you," Carrie said. She sat down and told them of Beca's visit to her five days earlier.

Carrie heard a knock at her door and was surprised to see Beca standing there looking nervous.

"Hey, Beca," Carrie said. "What's up? Everything okay?"

"Um, yeah," Beca mumbled. "Do you have a minute? I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Sure," Carrie said. "Come on in."

"Thanks," Beca said and followed Carrie into the kitchen.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Carrie poured two cups of coffee and set one down in front of Beca. She sat across from her and took a sip of her coffee.

"So," Carrie said, prodding Beca to begin.

"Um, so, I was, uh," Beca stammered and looked around. "Can I show you something?"

"Sure," Carrie said, her curiosity piqued.

Beca reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring.

"Oh, my God, Beca," Carrie said. "Is that an engagement ring?"

"Yes, it is," Beca said. "I was thinking about asking Chloe on Christmas. I know how much she loves you guys, and I thought it was the perfect time being around her family and all."

"That's. Wow," Carrie said surprised.

"Oh, my God! It's a bad idea," Beca said.

"No, no," Carrie said quickly. "It's a great idea. She'll love it. I just can't believe you're asking her already."

"It's too soon," Beca said. "I knew it was too soon. She's probably not ready for me to ask."

"Beca, stop," Carrie said. "Listen to me. Chloe loves you. She told me she was in love with you after knowing you for just a few days. So, no, this is not too soon. You two are destined to be together forever."

Beca nodded and stared at the ring.

"So, um," Beca started. She took a deep breath. "Is it alright with you if I ask Chloe to marry me on Christmas Day? Will your family be okay with that?"

"Oh, my God, yes," Carrie said and grabbed Beca in a hug. "How are you going to ask her?"

"I have an idea," Beca said. "But, it's kind of cheesy."

"What is it?"

"I saw some ornaments that open up, and there's space inside for a small gift. I thought about getting one of those and putting the ring it. I'd give her the ornament to start our own Christmas traditions."

"Beca, that sounds perfect," Carrie said.

"It's not too cheesy is it?"

"I'd say it's just cheesy enough. Chloe will love it."

"And I do," Chloe said and kissed Beca's cheek. "I have to call Brey."

"Welcome to the family, Beca," Charlotte said.

"Come on, Becs," Chloe said. "I want to skype Aubrey to tell her."

Chloe grabbed Beca's had and led her upstairs. She grabbed her computer and set it up on her bed. She initiated the skype call.

Aubrey answered. "Merry Christmas, Chloe. I was just going to call you."

"Merry Christmas, Brey," Chloe said. "You, too, Stacie."

"Merry Christmas," Stacie replied. "Oh, hey, Beca."

"Merry Christmas," Beca said.

"I have something to tell you," Aubrey said with a big smile.

"Don't tell us you got engaged, too," Beca said with a big grin.

Aubrey squealed. "Yes! We did." She stopped and furrowed her brow. "Wait. Too?"

"You got engaged, too?," Stacie asked. "Seriously?"

"Yep," Chloe said and held up her left hand to show off the ring. "Beca just asked."

"Wow, Beca," Stacie said. "That's gorgeous. I asked Brey."

"Let's see your ring, Brey," Chloe said.

Aubrey held up her left hand to show her ring. "Wow, Stacie. Good job."

"Thanks," Stacie said. "How did Beca ask?"

Chloe told them how the proposal went and Aubrey and Stacie chuckled.

"Just the right amount of cheesy," Stacie said still chuckling.

"Yeah," Beca said with a big smile. "How'd you ask?"

"I just asked," Stacie said. "Aubrey isn't one for big gestures or anything really sappy, so we were in the kitchen talking, and I just got down on one knee and asked her. It just felt right."

"It was perfect," Aubrey said and kissed Stacie. They got lost in each other; forgetting all about Chloe and Beca.

"Brey," Chloe said trying to get Aubrey's attention. "Brey!" Aubrey and Stacie stopped making out and looked at the screen. "You know what this means, right?"

Aubrey got a big smile on her face, and she and Chloe simultaneously said, "Double wedding!"

I told myself that I was only going to do six chapters on this fic, BUT I fell in love with Carrie and Aidan and decided to add a couple more chapters to get through the weddings. So, stay tuned; I'm hoping to post Carrie and Aidan's wedding soon.

Thanks again to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed this story.

Song used: 'Truly Madly Deeply' by Savage Garden

#bechloe fanfiction #BECHLOE #BECHLOE FANDOM

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of-rats-and-asters · 6 years

Text

Fanfiction: Welcome to the real world -chapter 3

Chap. 1 / Chap. 2 / Hi everyone! First things first, I want to thank Glittercracker once again for the *amazing* beta-reading. Thank you so much for bearing with me and my awkward mistakes lmao. Also thanks to voxiferious for the help with some vulgar expressions XD And also thanks to you all, readers! I am amazed to see this story seems to interest quite a lot of people, this is very gratifying ! All kudos, comments and bookmarks mean a lot and keep me going! Thank you all! Once again I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

“You’re crazy”.

“Safu! Let me explain at least!”

“He’s the most dangerous convict we’re currently hosting. Possibly the most dangerous convict we’ve ever hosted. He was put in jail for a freaking murder attempt! For God’s sake Shion, what are you thinking?”

Shion let out a tired sigh. “First, he was only suspected of murder attempt, no proof has been made against him. They put him in jail for the violence and prostitution – let me speak!”

She didn’t understand him. Shion had come after work once again to discuss the arrival of VC-103221. She had heard of this Nezumi long before he came to their establishment. As a psychiatrist, the federals had asked her opinion on Nezumi’s transfer to the NCIR. She had never hidden her concern about the project. Criminals who showed no remorse, no fear of authority were prone to backslide. However, she hadn’t been the one deciding, and here she was now in this delicate situation. Shion was known for his kind heart and optimistic mind. But both as his best friend and a practitioner, she was worried for him. Nezumi’s outburst against Arugo earlier this day had led to a formal investigation. Several testimonies had shown that Arugo had been the one starting the fight. But it didn’t excuse Nezumi for his violence. It was his second day in the facility, and Nezumi was already making waves… Shion knew well that during the next weekly meeting, there would be demands for a psychiatric examination on him. And for some reason, he had come to ask Safu to volunteer.

“I hope you realise this is corruption. This is a serious matter, Shion, I don’t understand you.”

Shion looked down at his fingers, twisting them. His voice was soft and a tiny smile was showing on his lips.

“He’s… uncanny, for sure.” Shion’s gaze rose to meet Safu’s. “But I swear, I feel it deep inside me, he’s not a bad man. He’s full of wrath but… he looks like he had such a tough life. He deserves more time. To adjust. To get to know us. But…”

“But he’s an insolent, infuriating and provocative jerk. Shion…” Safu huffed before taking her head in her hands. “What are you doing to me? OKAY. I’ll volunteer.” Shion’s face brightened immediately. He looked like a puppy who just saw his owner bringing the leash for the morning walk.

“Thank you Safu, I love you so much, you’re the best.” He took her warmly in his arms. As her head laid on his shoulder, he missed the bittersweet expression on her face. “Yeah, Shion… me too…”

Nezumi woke up with his heart beating fast and sweat rolling between his shoulder blades. The air was fresh and he was shivering. He guessed he must have had another nightmare but he couldn’t remember it. And for all he knew, he didn’t care. Only the present mattered. He extended his arm to fetch the clock, and saw it was only 4 am. He had awoken almost an hour too early, but already too late to get back to sleep. So he’d better get up, and simply go through his morning work-out. The routine, the regularity of the exercises were what grounded him. It felt good, to push hard on his arms, to get his heart to beat fast for a reason, to get his brain to empty and his back to burn. This morning especially, the effort was even more rewarding than usual. His sharp breath breaking the silence. Time to shower, he decided.

The shower. Oh! This was the best reward he could have. He had made the right choice, he thought, as warm water was running on his head, slowly reaching his scalp, and along his spine, down his thigh and between his ankles, giving him delicious chills. He was so much better here. Alone, calm. Busy, even. And most importantly, he was not permanently shut in one of those atrocious concrete cells. If there was a fire, he thought, the flames would rise to the sky.

Nezumi didn’t think very often of the past. But the previous day’s odd vision was still in his mind as his lower back burned once more beneath the scalding water. But was it too hot or was it only his mind playing tricks once more? Anyway, it was time to get clothed and go outside. This time he took a backpack and a few books as he made his way to the cafeteria. It was still very early – too early – and very few men were sat at the large tables. Nezumi considered taking a seat too, but the glares he received and the whispering quickly made him change his mind. Too early to deal with this shit. He took an apple, and walked to the bus area. But the drivers weren’t there yet. Checking his watch, Nezumi repressed a sigh. One hour left… He could have just sat next to the bus, but he didn’t like staying there. When he was reading, it was easy to sneak behind his back. Looking around him, Nezumi noticed the building Shion had come from the previous day. It was a bit further away, and gave a nice view on the cafeteria. He supposed he would also hear the driver when he arrived. Once he reached the entrance, he was glad to notice the stairs. Sitting there, he took his book, and started reading. .

“Nezumi?”

Startled at the soft call of his name, Nezumi almost dropped his book as he got up to face the source of the voice. “Shion…” Nezumi muttered, as his heartbeat slowed to a decent rate. He wanted to shout at the other man for alarming him. But of course, he couldn’t do that. Instead he searched for this watch, fumbling with his sleeves. “Am I late?”

“Don’t worry, you still have half an hour. I always come in advance.” Shion smiled as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t entered Nezumi’s safety zone without the other man noticing. A bright smile, and kind ruby eyes that pierced through Nezumi’s mind. “You’re reading?”

“Wow, your sharp mind struck once again, I see.” Nezumi’s tone was defiant, his gaze dark. Shion’s eyes widened a bit as he took a step back and cocked his head on this side.

“Wow. Good morning, too, Nezumi.” He looked offended.

Of course. He couldn’t understand his reaction. Nezumi gave a sigh, his shoulders dropping. “I am sorry, Your Majesty. Please forgive my rudeness.” He really needed to get his shit together, rules here were different. He got up, shoving his book back in his bag and looking up at Shion, who was staring back from the top of the stairs. His head was still cocked but his eyes had softened. With the rising sun reflecting on them, they wore an almost mystical look.

“Why do you call me that?” he asked.

“Call you what?” Nezumi replied lazily as he took the first steps toward the bus, which was now open for them to climb in.

“Your Majesty. It’s inappropriate!” Nezumi closed his eyes as Shion’s voice reached his ears. He was right behind him, having to trot to catch up with him. Suddenly he felt the smaller man’s hand closing on his arm. It took all his will power, and a sharp inhale to avoid turning too violently on his coordinator.

“Is it?” he breathed through clenched teeth. Shion’s stare at him was serious, and unwavering. His grip was strong but not painful. An easy twist of his wrist and the roles were reversed, Nezumi taking Shion’s arm to pull at him and whisper in his ear, “It doesn’t seem inappropriate to me. I didn’t choose you but still you have complete power over me. You live in a wealth I’ve never achieved and certainly never will. You think you can change my life but you have no idea what world our folk lives in. You’re there, commanding people when you have no right to, when you’ve never had to prove anything whereas we always have to prove ourselves. You’re unreachable…”

To this, Shion took a step back, seeming unsure what to say. “You’re wrong…”

“Pardon me?” Nezumi snorted. “We’re not allowed to go in the same buildings as far as I know. I can’t even put my hand to your throat – ” he raised his free hand to place his fingers lightly over the white-haired man’s wind pipe, feeling his heavy gulp as he did so “ – without risking being taken away immediately by your guards.” The last words were merely a murmur, a string of air brushing at Shion’s cheeks.

Shion shook his head at the statement. His eyes locked on Nezumi’s glare as he pressed his hand against Nezumi’s, thus forcing his throat harder against the other man’s palm. “You can reach me,” he whispered. “We live in the same world Nezumi. Only we don’t have the same view of it….”

Nezumi huffed at the ridiculous sentence. He shook his hands away and resumed walking to the bus, but stopped when Shion spoke to his back.

“It’s like the forest, Nezumi… Like I showed you yesterday… Some are broken and ill, but with care and time… I am sure we can nurse them back to health and beauty.”

Looking over his shoulder, Nezumi answered flatly, “I am not so sure, Your Majesty. Some fires burn the forest to the roots, and the only things left are ashes that gather in your airways and choke you as you breath them in.” And with this, he left the coordinator to take a seat at the back of the bus. His back itched but he ignored the minor discomfort.

Once arrived in the forest, Shion brought the group to a new area where they started collecting samples again. The other inmates worked in pairs. They all had their roles. Some were there to collect the samples, others had to organize them. They took notes and talked light-heartedly. Nezumi observed them as Shion was occupied collecting soil, looking fascinated at the numerous insects he saw, noting everything frenetically on a small notepad. His curious eyes so focused, they looked almost brown.

At some point, an inmate started using a large liana to whip a colleague, shouting lewdly as he did so. Everyone laughed, rolling their eyes as Shion asked for them to calm down and get back to work, hiding a small smile. Nezumi would have imagined a coordinator would be harder on them than that. He didn’t understand how Shion managed to get his team together with such a lenient attitude, but still. Somehow it worked, as everyone was getting their work done.

At the lunch break, everyone took their sandwich and sat on the ground, chewing happily. Shion was once again chattering with everyone, asking for news. One of the guys’ wife had given birth the day before. She had been pregnant right when he was imprisoned for stealing money at his workplace.

“Hey boss, you think they’ll let me see my baby at the hospital? I made my appeal a few weeks ago but they said I’d have to wait to get the answer. The wife isn’t too happy, but well you know… hormones n’ everything, she ain’t an easy one!”

Another guy burst out laughing. “Admit you only wanna have your way!! Hormones, hey?”

Almost everyone laughed loudly as Shion answered to the guy softly, telling him he had asked the hierarchy, but as he only had a few weeks left here before being released, he would probably have to wait. The guy’s shoulders dropped in disappointment.

“And you, boss, you have a kid and a wife waiting for you at home?” another asked.

Nezumi didn’t miss few men snickering, looking right at him. “As if that fag would ever go for a woman.” Nezumi pointedly ignored them as Shion smiled. “No wife for me, guys… And as for kids….” He patted the ground, holding a flower delicately between his fingers, “I guess this forest is sort of my baby.” He smiled tenderly at the flower.

“And now…. Time to baby sit again everyone!” He winked at the group, getting up again as they were half-heartedly complaining. “Nezumi, come with me!”

Nezumi got up and gathered his stuff before following Shion. Silently he took the boxes his coordinator handed him. “I want to collect some flowers with their roots. We’ll grow them back at the facility.” Nezumi nodded, getting to work.

“Your Majesty?” he asked after a while.

Shion was kneeling beside him. His hand deeply buried in the soil, he stopped moving, waiting for the other man to continue.

“Do you have a family? At home, I mean…”

“Here is my family, Nezumi.” Shion smiled easily. “I live here, you know.”

“Yeah, one of the apartments above mine, I saw that. But… don’t you have parents, friends, outside of here?”

Shion took his time to answer. “I have my mom, but she lives in town and I can go see her fairly often. As for my friends. Well my colleagues are my friends. There is also Safu. She works as a psychiatrist here you know. We went to school together.”

Nezumi hummed. “You look like a workaholic to me.”

“Find a job you love and you’ll never have to work a day in your life, as the saying goes.” Shion’s voice was cheerful. “And you Nezumi, don’t you have a family, friends, waiting for you to join them outside?”

Nezumi froze, his silver eyes looking empty for a second, before he closed them. “Why would I burden myself with people? I’m great on my own you know.” Shion seemed to hesitate. Nezumi caught his eyelashes – white, he noticed – fluttering, and his Adam’s apple moving as he gulped. Eventually he spoke, his voice careful.

“I’m sorry Nezumi… I checked your record yesterday.” Nezumi didn’t answer, but he resumed working, gaze focused on his task. He should have known better.

“It says you were suspected of trying to…”

“You should know when to stop for your own good, your Majesty.” Nezumi’s voice was gentle but his eyes were hard. “Don’t try to understand me, the only ones who tried are now dead.”

Shion fell silent for a few seconds, looking at the other man. He was quite beautiful, this man. His muscles stood out below his T-shirt. Even stained with dirt, his hands were elegant; his long, raven hair attached in a ponytail apart from a few strands sticking to his neck. His neck, so delicate and strong at the same time. Pale skin that led to a strong jaw… and even stronger eyes. Mesmerizing eyes the color of a blade. Shion breathed deeply. This beautiful man, who had spent more years in prison than most of the convicts here. He reminded him of shattered mirrors, whose numerous facets were so hypnotizing, but showed a distorted reflection of reality. Shattered mirrors were both amazingly entrancing and extremely sharp. So sharp.

Suddenly his eyes got teary, he didn’t know why. Nezumi’s eyes widened at the sight of the first tear rolling along Shion’s cheek. But as Shion resumed working without a word, he did the same.

When it was time for them to get their dinner, the convicts all went to the cafeteria. Most of them were exhausted from their day of hard working, and so the ambiance was rather quiet, considering the amount of people gathered in the building. Nezumi got himself a plate and a place next to a group of silent guys who didn’t seem to be too much of a nuisance. He ate his supper tranquilly. His mind wandered to the day’s events. Shion was too curious for his own good. He had the feeling the man wanted to get to know him. To get inside his skin, inside his head and analyse him like he analysed the pieces of bark they collected. You’ll only find fire. And at this rate you’ll end as scorched and hurt as the others. The others. There was a time when he wasn’t so hostile to his fellows. But that time was over now, and the only contacts he still sought were those from whom he had something to gain. Speaking of which…

“HEY! The rat! I heard you were a whore back in prison!” The man calling out to him seemed rather smug, all his friends laughing heavily around him. Nezumi was used to it. He could have ignored the remark but right now it seemed a nice distraction enough. Turning in his direction, he took note of the broad shoulders and nice enough lips. The guy looked rather clean. A good point for him. It was a change from those scums he had to hang out with lately. Yeah, this guy would do, after all.

Nezumi winked at him, lips turning up oh so slightly.

“Are you interested?” He got up, taking a few steps toward the guy, who stopped laughing altogether as whistles could be heard around them. “I can give you a sample if you wish.” The words were breathed against the guy’s neck as Nezumi sat on the table next to him. The guy turned to him, an eyebrow quirked in defiance. “Bored already?”

Nezumi’s smile broadened. “You have no idea…” Over the guy’s shoulder he could see a few guards speaking to one another, one of them running to the coordinator’s room. The image of a single tear rolling down a pale cheek, above a reddish scar flashed in front him. His lips crashed against the other guy’s, and he ignored his surprised inhale as he kissed the man fully.

In all honesty it wasn’t a really good kiss. The guy was apparently self-conscious, and he lacked the boldness Nezumi craved. But still it was lips, and tongue, and around them he could hear the whistles and people cheering excitedly. It was enough to clear his mind and get his body to go numb. The guy cupped his jaw, letting a moan as Nezumi licked his lips and it was enough of an invitation to get closer and grind against him. The guy’s breathing was hard and Nezumi could feel him shaking as he took his hands lower on his body. But right when it was getting interesting he felt a strong grip on his shoulder and didn’t have time to register as he was brutally thrown away from the panting guy’s lap.

“NEZUMI!!! IN MY OFFICE! NOW!”

Shion’s furious glare paralyzed Nezumi for a second, and he was still so far gone. But his coordinator didn’t give him the time to think further as he took him by the neck and strongly pushed him onward. This woke Nezumi up, and he broke away from the white-haired man, noticing his own rasping breathing as he retorted, “Hey, give me a break will you?!”

“How. DARE. YOU?!” Shion was furious. Almost scary. His blood-coloured eyes were fixed at Nezumi in a threatening glare. Nezumi shook his shoulders looking at the door, then at the man. “Show me the way, sir. I’m new, here, if you remember.” He dropped in a tone that was, hopefully, nonchalant.

Shion took him once again by the T-shirt and dragged him, mumbling something that sounded a lot like, “The hell I know you’re new here….”

They arrived in Shion’s office and the door slammed hard behind them. Shion didn’t take the time to sit behind his desk, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Explain yourself.”

Nezumi looked at him dumbfounded. He felt dizzy, blood slowly coming back to his brain as he took in his surroundings. He was starting to note the number of potted plants in the place, when Shion punched the door, startling him.

“EXPLAIN YOURSELF!”

Well. That was unexpected. “What is there to explain, if I may ask?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Like why the hell were you almost getting off on that guy’s lap in the middle of the fucking cafeteria?”

“Well I didn’t know making out was forbidden, you told me nothing about it yesterday.”

“That. Is not. The. Question.” Shion was trembling, his face red and eyes still furious, but his breathing was getting steadier.

Nezumi decided this little game had lasted long enough. He was tired, and needed to be alone “The guy made advances on me, I wanted to kiss him, we kissed, end of the story. What’s the issue with that?”

Shion’s exasperated sigh was enough of an answer. “Nezumi the guy was almost coming on you!”

“Well it’s not my fault if I’m a good kisser. Wanna try it?”

Nezumi didn’t expect Shion’s slap but the guy was too slow and he was faster, catching Shion’s hand before it hit his face.

“WHAT’S THE PROBLEM WITH YOU?!” the white-haired man almost howled at him.

“I could ask you the same question,” Nezumi growled. “Do you often hit your men, Shion?”

Shion looked like someone had just punched him in the face. Suddenly he started shaking, blushing heavily. His arms went limp. Nezumi released him, judging he was no threat anymore. Still he kept a cautious eye on him as Shion sat on his chair, taking his head in his hand.

“Please, forgive me, I forgot myself.” Shion’s shaky voice was low. Under Nezumi’s scrutinizing gaze, he took a series of deep breaths before finally raising his eyes. “What got into to your head Nezumi?”

“And what got into yours? We were only kissing. Nothing to panic about to my knowledge.”

“Normal people don’t go nearly having sex in public right after their arrival in an inmate reintegration center….”

“I arrived three days ago!”

“Still, Nezumi. What were you thinking? Did you want to get something from him? No one is allowed to use money here you know.”

“I’ve had enough,” Nezumi barked, turning around, but as he tried to open the door, the knob somehow refused to obey. “The fuck?” he growled, looking at Shion. “You locked us in?!”

“I wanted to have a proper talk with you.”

“Great! Don’t you have better things to do Shion? Your days are longer than mine and still I’m exhausted. Let’s be done with it.” The last sentence was almost a plea. Shion sighed deeply.

“I can’t have you prostituting yourself again… It’s for your own good….”

“For fuck’s sake SHION, I. Was. Not. Prostituting. Myself. I just freaking kissed a guy, that’s all!!” Nezumi was now gesturing broadly, hands above his head. Clearly frustrated way beyond his usual tolerance level.

“Nezumi you need to understand. Don’t give them reason to throw you back there…”

“That’s none of your business to my knowledge!”

Shion’s eyes hardened “Actually. It is. As your coordinator I’m responsible for your actions. But you’re right, I’m exhausted. You exhaust me. I still have a meeting in 10 minutes I need to attend. So I’ll let you go for now, but I don’t want to hear more about you tonight.” Nezumi’s relieved sigh was audible to the both of them. And he hated himself for that.

Shion got up to unlock the door. Before they parted ways, he took a last look at his convict. “Nezumi. You have to know. They’ll request a psychiatric examination for you. I won’t be able to prevent it. So if you want to avoid being sent to I-don’t-know-what-medical-facility. Please. Behave”. Nezumi’s eyes widened. Shion made an attempt at reaching toward him before obviously thinking better of it and dropping his arm.

“Goodnight Nezumi.”

As the other man left, Shion rested his head against the cool doorframe.

#no.6 #nezushi #fic #fanfiction #no6 #WTTRW

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ofedmundandlucy · 7 years

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I still feel ambivalent about this certain topic, but in light of Mental Health Day, I think it’s just appropriate for me to talk about what has been going on with me for the past weeks.

September 12th of this year, I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and dysthymia. Probably you are already familiar with PTSD, but I’ll tell you something about dysthymia. Persistent depressive disorder, formerly known as dysthymia, is a mood disorder and a continuous, chronic form of depression. Not as severe as Major Depression, but chronic enough to be deemed as clinically alarming.

If you have been following me for years now, you probably know already that I was severely bullied in school. I was… different. Friends always left me because I could not fit in. There’s this particular day, I can remember it was on March 22, 2011. Literally everyone in class were against me, spitting insults, saying I wasn’t enough. That I was different. Fat. Big. Modest. Isolated. Alone. Introverted. Schizoidal. People stepped away from me as if I had some kind of disease, staring at me and whispering as they saw me. No one wanted to be my friend. That pretty much fucked me up, thus the start of my depressive state. I couldn’t eat. Sleep. Focus. Make a joke. Smile even. I went on spending my days in school without saying a word or producing a sound. How could I be not enough? Maybe, indeed, I wasn’t enough. As I have said, my depressive periods are not really major, but then they are persistent.

PTSD and dysthymia made me feel more alone and useless. They made me feel like I am not worthy of love and respect and everything good in this world. They made my self-esteem drop like crazy, and be jealous of those who don’t have any problem with confidence. They made me forget how to be thankful for my existence. They constantly make me wonder what could the world have been without me. Maybe okay. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway, would it? Sometimes, I get obsessed about the thought of this goddamned place without me. I imagine myself dying.

They shadow the things I should be grateful for, and put a spotlight on the things I cannot have. They gave me severe anxiety of the unknown. They stole my hope. They sucked all the happiness that I could have experienced all these years. They made me vulnerable and sensitive to criticisms. One moment I am happy, then after a second, my mood plummets. I was just realizing that I act happy to mask or compensate for my sadness. But then the severity of my illness rapidly changes that in some days I can’t pretend to be happy anymore. They hinder me from living.

If I tell you I’m okay, I’m not. At least not right now. For the past few months or even when i started posting in April 2011 (I thought by making this blog, I could find refuge. I did.), you have maybe read some of my posts with me venting about my feelings. Over the years, I have received many uplifting messages, and I thank you all for that.

But why do I still consistently feel sad?

I thought I was only being sad, not knowing that I have already been living with a mental illness for more than 7 years. I thought that the diagnoses were going to help me, but it seems that my depressive periods have gotten more persistent. Nevertheless, I’m still learning.

‘It sucks’ is an understatement. No matter how much people tell me it’s going to be fine and that I am worthy, my wrecked brain seems to shut them out. It’s like the word ‘unworthy’ is already locked up in the depths of my mind, and I have lost the key and no one can do anything about it

I feel like I’m pushing people away because of how I behave, which is not what I want but I can’t help doing.

So I should take this opportunity to say sorry about it, particularly to one person here. Sorry @narniadreams for making you cry and not listening to you and wasting your time typing away advice i can’t take. I know you’re also going through a lot, but you still try to help me. I should be thankful for that. I know that sorry wouldn’t suffice if I kept on shutting you and your words out, but I will do my best. I hope you can trust me on this one this time.

I assure you all I can be better. Maybe not now or tomorrow or next week or next month or next year, but someday. I assure you.

It’s also pretty ironic that I have studied Psychiatric-Mental Health Nursing, but then I still let all these happen to me. The truth is, mental illnesses don’t pick their prey. They don’t exclude medical professionals or anyone who have studied the power of the brain. It can happen to anyone, with or without the knowledge of psychology/psychiatry.

That’s why I want you to take care of yourselves holistically. Living with mental illnesses is pretty shitty, you would never want to have one. Prevent yourself from going into deep as much as possible. Seek help or help people out, you’ll never know how much they need it. Please.

Love yourself and don’t let the words and actions of other people ruin you the way it did with me. I’m still struggling as I make this post (My heart is breaking, I am angry at myself, and I don’t know what to do), but that doesn’t hinder me from spreading awareness. I keep on reminding myself to dry my tears and face these challenges. I know that someday I will learn and be free from my cage, my past. Everything will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay it’s not the end. If you’re having a bad time, do something. It’s okay not to be okay, as long as you know you can get through it. If you’re going through something, smile. Or even when you’re not going through something, smile with us. We are all valid. We all matter

#mental health day #take care of yourselves 💖#i feel lost and broken but i will persist #it would be very much appreciated if you liked this to let me know you're here for anyone who's struggling with mental disorders 💖💖💖#and say something to support this post 💖💖#i love you all so much

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dancekickboxcardio · 4 years

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Yeah, I forget sometimes. When you are in a certain milestone 🛣 in your life and you are like a psych graduate 🎓 and good at handling the difficult, well, it’s negligible even if to someone on another ends or the crowd really gets swept 🧹 by the tide 🌊. What is life anyway when you don’t know what it’s like to feel and be your total self and put your hopes, your dreams, your life on someone. Even I admit, I have a hard time in that regard. But I have strengthen resolve over the years. What’s worst is I have learned to be steely impenetrable. To remind me,

This is like the bomb for this holiday 🎄 season. I know you might find it disconcerting that there is a psychiatric nursing moment 👩🏼‍⚕️ here actually. Well in a sense. When I was in the criminal ward, those who cannot control their impulses have bracelets like rubber to put their tension when for example they feel like doing self-harm. In a more less severe and nonclinical setting like ordinary everyday relations, we get upset 😢, we feel down, we needs to be reminded, we need to represent what feel. A large gamut of expression. I have Lululemon hair ties to remind me not of high end work out 💪🏾 🏃🏼‍♀️ stuff but what wellness means. I really like reading the affirmations that reminds us that life is more than the demands socially impinge on us.

I actually want that too. Eighteen bucks is reasonable. But the business in me quoting the materials and labor. I go, they are making so much money 💵 on mark up and packaging. What I am trying to say is these trinkets reminded me of my life. They are selling an entire collection in Nordstrom which is reasonable at 20 bucks again to me the cost of goods manufactured versus 🆚retail. It is a lifestyle object. At anycase, these bracelets reminds you of you in all respects, what you want to be, what you are, what you are working on, what you forget, what others look 👀 over, what you hold dear etc. They totally should make lunch 🍴 boxes with affirmations. Just don’t sell them for $40.

I need my antioxidants 💊. I came across the tune 🎶 when I was making my espresso drink ☕️ in the kitchen. I am out of Nesquick. The recipe does taste 🥄 like a Christmasy 🎄 but not overpoweringly so.

I am out of nutmeg and I am eager to see the ads to plan for my fuel 🥘. I made so much food yesterday mosty veggie 🥦🥑🍆🍅🥒🥬🌶🌽🥕🍠🥔 servings really. However that is for another day. This was Sunday which I called an on because I missed Saturday and I need to make full use of my membership like I don’t get the most from my $80 membership plus magazine. Ugh 😑, Experience Life is like want to enhance your life esp on everything related to athleticism 🎽, they have the answers. What was I trying to say, ah, it never fails. I was sickly again come afternoon Monday and I had to drink two Advil doses. I feel better now. I slept 🛏 at 1100p last night 🌃 because I had to paint 💅🏾 but I didn’t set an alarm ⏰ and stayed in bed 🛌 for as long as I can. Actually, I didn’t want to get up. Except my stopwatch ⏱ beeped and I knew it was another hour. I just went to the bathroom like half an hour ago at 930p. So we have an idea 💡 what time it was.

Sunday was actually a great day. I feel that I took less than the minutes I said it would take me. It was chill and I was able to take my time picking out the stuff that I really need. In my contentment 😃 I forgot to put my beanie back on which means, my head is exposed to the cold 🥶 . I should make my antioxidants for the day as what we call prophylactic.

My glitters also known as sweat 💦 sparklies were not perfect yet I was in a hurry and accepted it as it is. They have new set on Sephora 🛍🤦🏼‍♀️. I am make up 💄 crazed although I already planned my expenditure in the next couple of months 📆 and guess what there is wiggle room to change ups yet mostly I covered everything that I shall need not like splurge on Zella’s 👖. Ban.do is like making me a loyal customer. It looks 👀 as if I might drop a small amount of $80. They sell clothing. But I am mostly interested in health, novelty self-care and girl boss items like planners. What was I talking about? I talk to much. Ah, I was dressed 👗 for the 🎊.

I have not touched the protein bar it’s in my yoga 🧘🏼‍♀️ bag although I drank the C4 energy drink in sips through out after Kelli’s dance 💃🏼 birthday 🎂 party 🎈 to Surrender 🙆🏼‍♀️ to sauna 🧖🏼‍♀️. The birthday 🍰 gal was dressed for a festival and I was like for the football 🏈 stadium 🏟. I also made it like a tail gater thang too. I was so happy 😀 I was in for the festivities 🥳. It was a 1.5 hours Zumba 🕺🏽HipHop with assists from Janice and Melissa. I was disappointed that they didn’t maximize the hours. Vie, the other members are tired 😓. We get it. I also think 🤔 they were making sure they have enough time when they send us off with treats from the café. I enjoyed 😊. There were Cleveland folks. I am not sure what you are talking about, we are all from Cleveland. There were peeps from the Westside and dancer 🕴🏻on the 1100 studio 2 class. I spend the minutes before making sure my back muscles are limber. I am always pressed for time in my head. I don’t want to be late. With that thought 💭 always running on my mind as if beating the timer ⏱ I am in a hurry—slow down—. I actually had enough time and more. I should have put the mat. The only thing is you have to disinfect it too. I discovered 🔎 that 10 minutes is enough 60 seconds repeat 10x. Some of the moves 👣 where something we know. I got to feel and be the music 🎼. Then, at times you get lost at the quick changing non repetitive dance steps. Some of them are familiar. Others are like a throw off. So you just have fun as the instructor emphasized. Melissa K was great. I love 💗 her. They are all super. However, even in her small segments you realize what a consummate dancer she is. Am I like in So You Think You Can Dance? Not to mention the music 🎵. Most of all, we are actually more than grooving, we are targeting muscles 💪🏾 like what I read yesterday in a low impact isometric way. It was awesome 👏🏾. They also put the blinders so everybody were not so conscious that we were being watch. Where the lights 💡 on? You betcha. Speaking of which, they have glow in the dark Sally Hansen polish. I think 🧐 I am going to have so much fun 🎉.

After we took a group picture 📸 and fuel ⛽️ and hydration 💧 was distributed I scanned the room if some of my acquaintances where there. I knew people and they were talking in a group but I didn’t see those that I actually have a conversation 🗣. At any rate, I freshened up for yoga 🧘🏼‍♀️. I had some large time like around 30 minutes so I did exercises on the floor literally. This time when doing the leg 🦵🏾 drop I felt the small sharp pains on my low back. I finished my set. I read from the mag that you should stop 🛑. I’ll mentally note 📝 that.

I should shower 🚿 in a minute. Stephanie’s class was spectacular. We worked on our hips flexors a lot and I was so happy 😀. There were new poses. I loved ❤️ it. A big gift 🎁 of attending the class even for one day in a week is the instructor arms you with the stuff you can do on your own. Oh, Vie, only the self-starter you. She was very good in educating us. I mean you get confused 🤷🏼‍♀️ in how the stretches are to be held but the benefits of doing it is there. I was being idiotic and airhead and I think 💭 I saw my trainer Lindsey with a friend. Stephanie taught us concretely by grounding, knowing and finding for ourselves if the 5 minute yoga moves change our physiology. I say mmmmhm. My right side is lose. My left side is stiff after pidgeon. She also gave the new policy on bodily adjustments citing the New York Times article that I didn’t read but saw. I should get ready 🎒.

My shows 📺 :

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