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kim-seungmine · 4 years

Text

the time is now

title: the time is now

characters: (fem) reader x kim seungmin of stray kids (feat. choi lia of itzy, lee felix + bang chan of stray kids)

genres: romance, rich kid au, friends to lovers au, (sort of!) mafia au, dedicating this to 191109 seungmin & levanter era!seungmin

word count: 7.9k

warnings: alcohol consumption, violence (nothing too wild tho), i haven’t proofread, idk what im doing tbh (but seungmin drives an aston martin i hope that makes you feel better)

synopsis: you and seungmin spent years pushing each other away, only to be confronted by your biggest fears when you finally decided to stop running away.

a/n: i hope this doesn’t suck :(((

Summer is for fun. Summer is for rest. Summer is for romance.

But summer is also for opportunities, and that’s the sole reason why you’re standing inside the Laura Ryu boutique—where you can’t even afford its cheapest pair of earrings. The luxury fashion brand is open for internships for the very first time and now it’s one of those “a million girls would kill for that job” positions in South Korea.

“Good morning, everyone.”

The sweet but regal voice belongs to Julia Choi, Laura Ryu’s daughter who’s specifically flew back from New York to Seoul for the summer to help her mother managing the internship. You know her better as Choi Jisu, your childhood friend who’s currently attending Parsons School of Design.

“I’m Choi Jisu, and I’m going to be your mentor throughout the internship. Well, technically I’m responsible for all of you here so please, stay in one piece until the end of summer although it’s going to be absolute hell, okay?”

Everyone laughs, and soon you’re ushered to one big studio inside. You see a placard with your name on one of the table and quickly head there, giving Jisu a little wave as she tells the other interns to find their stations.

After all the interns are seated, Jisu claps, effectively silencing everyone. “And now, something to motivate you,” she announces. “We’re going to monitor every single one of you and by the end of summer, we’re going to choose one intern to help with our next collection. How’s that sound?”

Excited whispers are heard all over the room, and you hope you’ll survive summer in one piece.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

Jisu is running down the stairs, her heels making loud clacking sounds against the marble floor. She envelops you in a tight hug the moment you’re within an arm’s reach. You’ve missed Jisu, it feels like it’s been ages since you volunteered at the animal shelter together.

“I can’t believe you actually applied!” she chirps.

You chuckle. “Well, I can’t believe I actually got in.”

Jisu snorts. “Oh please. I don’t need to see your portfolio to know how amazing it is. You’re probably the only one who sent a proper portfolio.”

She greets the shopkeepers, leading you outside. “Are you free? Let’s catch up!” she offers. You nod, linking your arm with hers. “What do you want to do? Coffee?”

“O—”

A white Aston Martin pulls over in front of you, causing Jisu to gasp and check her watch. The window rolls down, revealing an annoyed Kim Seungmin on the driver’s seat. “Yah Choi Jisu,” he snaps. “I know I’m just your insignificant cousin, but couldn’t you at least tell me that you were going to be at your Mom’s boutique the whole day?”

“Oh shoot, sorry Seungmin! I totally forgot,” Jisu panics, turning to you with apologetic eyes. “It’s okay,” you assure her. “Go. You’re stuck with me for the whole summer anyways.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m not gonna leave you behind. Seungmin, you don’t mind if I bring Y/N along, do you?”

Yeah, Kim Seungmin. Someone from your “summer is for romance” phase two years ago. You’re well aware that you’re an intern at his aunt’s boutique, but you thought you wouldn’t meet him since he’s set to take over his father’s law firm instead of becoming the heir of Laura Ryu’s fashion empire.

“It’s fine,” you refuse. “We can hang out some other time, Jisu. You two have fun!”

“Come with us,” Seungmin interjects, calmly as usual. Two years of not seeing him in flesh has weakened your defense. Seungmin has always looked fine, but now he looks ten times hotter with his dirty blond hair and you’re cursing yourself for being so shallow. Jisu shrugs, opening the door and pulling you inside.

Seungmin glances at the empty passenger seat then at the rear-view mirror. “So where are we headed, Young Mistresses?” he asks, his tone both sarcastic and playful.

“We were going to grab some coffee. Just stop by at the first Starbucks you see,” Jisu answers before attacking you with questions. Seungmin mumbles an, “Okay Miss” before making a u-turn. You feel all eyes are on you when you enter the café, suddenly realizing that you just stepped out of Kim Seungmin’s Aston Martin with Choi Jisu attached to your side.

For a split second, you forgot that you’re hanging out with South Korea’s top socialites who are way too cool for Starbucks.

After getting your orders, the three of you are chatting about every little thing. “And how is our little Byul? Has she been adopted?”

You and Seungmin exchange awkward glances, causing Jisu to cock an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“I didn’t go to the shelter last year,” you confess.

“Me neither,” Seungmin mumbles, sipping his Americano in a haste.

“Okay, neither of you went to the shelter last year, so what? What are you guys being so weird about?”

“Nothing,” you and Seungmin answer in unison. Jisu examines your face and snaps her fingers, seeming to get the idea. “Well, if that’s the case… why don’t you two talk things out?”

“Wait what happened to catching up?” you panic, while Seungmin grabs his cup and stands up. “I should drive you home,” he says.

Jisu clicks her tongue. “Sit down, both of you.”

You and Seungmin do as told, begging her with your eyes to save yourselves from this situation. “As you said, Y/N, we’re stuck together for the whole summer so we still have a lot of time. And no thank you, dear cousin. I’ll just take the cab. See you!”

Your friend smiles at you one last time before walking out, stopping the first cab she can find. You turn to Seungmin, finally letting yourself indulge in his pretty eyes that only seem to warm up whenever you’re around. Contrary to popular belief, there’s nothing special about Kim Seungmin except for the fact that he’s a straight-As law student, looks both adorable and hot, and is actually a sweet, humble boy despite being filthy rich.

Okay, you’re definitely not over him.

Seungmin clears his throat. “So, how’s the internship so far?”

“It was only my first day,” you answer. “We didn’t do much yet. The real fight starts tomorrow, I guess.”

“You’re in good hands. Jisu handles everything well, and her Mom won’t even show up until the last day so you’re going to have fun.”

You laugh. “But one of the interns is going to be included in the team in charge of the next collection so I suppose your aunt will appear once in a while, right?”

“She’ll be in Paris the whole summer,” Seungmin explains. “Jisu begged her to let her handle the program because she misses home, and here we are now.”

“How about you? Been doing fine, I guess?”

The little spark in Seungmin’s eyes fades at your question. He stands up, returning your puzzled gaze with a cold one. “Let me take you home.”

“You don’t need to,” you retort, slightly offended. “Seungmin, did I say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” he denies. “Please let me take you home. Jisu will kill me if I leave you alone here.”

You’re not satisfied with his answer, but decide to follow him. Seungmin enters the driver’s seat and starts the engine, heading to your neighbourhood without a word. “You still remember where I live?” you ask.

“I’m a law student Y/N. I can remember a lot of things.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. This is probably the only thing you hate about Seungmin: he shuts down everyone the moment he shows a hint of weakness. “Seungmin… are you okay?” you try again. “I’m not getting off until I get a proper answer.”

Jisu once told you that everyone in their big family sees a therapist every month; you know for sure that Seungmin must be their favorite patient because they get paid a fortune for counselling a very good boy who answers everything with positive words.

Seungmin is a strong, positive guy, but not all the time. People tend to forget that. He tends to forget that.

Looking at how tense he is, you decide to drop the subject. “How’s Chan and Felix?” you ask while scrolling through your Instagram feed, looking at a photo of the said boys posing in front of their luxury cars.

Seungmin’s eyes soften at the mention of his best friends. “Aren’t you the one who go to the same university?” he questions endearingly.

Christopher Bang and Felix Lee were your classmates in Fashion Journalism—a class which Felix signed up for by mistake. He tried to have it erased from his timetable, but changed his mind when he realized that everyone in that class was girls. Soon, his best bro Chris Bang joined him and when they found out you were friends with Seungmin and Jisu too, they wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Yeah, but everytime I want to say hi they’re always surrounded by their friends.”

“You mean Seo Changbin, Lee Minho and Yang Jeongin?”

You nod. Seungmin laughs, slowing down his pace as he reaches your neighbourhood. “Just say hi. Those guys are harmless.”

“Easy for you to say,” you scoff. “Seo Changbin radiates this ‘you can’t sit with us’ vibes stronger than those girls in Mean Girls.”

“I mean it,” he repeats. “Just say hi. Felix calls you all the time anyways. You’re a part of their so-called circle.”

“You mean your circle?” you correct him jokingly, unfastening your seatbelt as he smoothly hits the brake in front of your house. “Thank you for taking me home.”

Seungmin smiles your favorite smile, the one where his eyes disappear into crescent moons. The door is opened, yet you’re just sitting there, trying to look for answers inside Seungmin’s doe eyes.

“What is it?”

You chew your bottom lip, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

Your Golden Retriever puppy named Sun died when you were in fifth grade. You couldn’t function for the rest of summer, so your Dad suggested that you volunteer at an animal shelter. You eventually registered for a 2-week volunteer program where you fell in love with a lively Pomeranian you ended up adopting and a lovely boy named Kim Seungmin.

You and Seungmin went to different schools (he attended an elite all-boys school), the volunteer program was the only time you could meet him. He brought his cousin Choi Jisu the next year, and it became a routine for the three of you from then on. Your beautiful friendship was perfect until your 18th birthday, when Seungmin gifted you a box full of photos of you he had taken as your birthday present.

After 8 years, you finally realized that Kim Seungmin wasn’t just a friend you volunteered with. He was the one you played hide and seek with, he was the one who taught you to use a camera, he was the one who sang to you when you cried after one of the dogs in the shelter got sick.

“Have I ever told you that I love your voice?” you asked him on one Sunday morning, right before you turned 20. “You could be a singer.”

“No, but thank you. You said it right when I started doubting myself.”

“This is not an empty compliment, Seungmin. I’m serious.”

Seungmin ruffled your hair, eyes lighting up at your seriousness. “You never say empty words, Y/N. I know that.”

After a few minutes of trying to find the right response and not finding any, you decided to let his compliment hang in the air. You laid beside him, keeping a safe distance because hearing him breathe so peacefully was enough to mess up your insides.

Seungmin turned to you, and for a while he just stayed like that, quietly examining your face while you were on the verge of freaking out.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t change his position, eyes still locked on your face as he whispered, “I asked myself that too, but I honestly don’t know. I just hope I can see you like this forever. Seeing you makes me happy.”

Speechless, you didn’t dare to meet his eyes. How were you supposed to react? Was Seungmin drunk?

“Seriously,” you croaked to break the silence. “You should audition to become an idol or something.”

“Should I?”

“Well, depends whether you want it or not, but go ahead if you want! You have nothing to lose anyways!”

His lips curled into a sad smile. “Nothing to lose? Y/N, money isn’t the only thing I have.”

Whenever you started to feel that maybe you and Seungmin could become something more, the universe always made sure to remind you that he wasn’t just a boy you grew up with. He was the only son of a successful lawyer who rode limousine to school and owned a black credit card he used without thinking. He appeared on nation’s newspaper after attending exclusive parties you could only dream of going. He was someone who flew to London with private jet over the weekend because he wanted to take some photos.

You laughed, locking eyes with him without realizing. “But with your money you can have everything, Seungmin. You and Jisu are different from the rest of us.”

Ten years of friendship and you never once talked about this. You knew Seungmin wouldn’t mind; he wasn’t the type who liked to flaunt his wealth, but he wasn’t one of those people who didn’t like to be reminded of how loaded they were. He never cared. But you were afraid he would think that you did, so you always avoided making comparisons.

That day, you had to do it. Maybe you were too protective of yourself, but you couldn’t risk getting hurt. One little slash on your heart, and the wound would leave a permanent scar.

Seungmin hummed in agreement, breaking the eye contact to look at the clear sky.

He left the shelter the next day, and you never talked to him again.

“Jisuuuu,” you whine as Jisu pulls you into Rose’s, a fancy bar that she frequents. “I thought we were just going to hang out!”

“We are!” Jisu exclaims, waving at the bartender before choosing a spot. She orders you a drink you’re not familiar with before pouting at you. “Okay, sorry for not telling you, but we’re not gonna hang out alone today.”

The door opens, revealing Chan and Felix. The latter immediately throws his arms around you, and you can’t help but break into an endearing laugh. “Y/N!!!! Why is it so hard to meet you? Don’t you miss your expensive friends?!”

You pull away from his grip. “Excuse me, but since when your socialite agenda includes your humble friend right here?”

Felix pouts, ordering a glass of Dry Martini while Chan and Jisu are whispering among themselves. You scoot closer to them. “What are you guys whispering about?”

The three of them snicker at the same time and you figure this isn’t just the usual “hanging out” session.

You turn to Chan. “Bang Chan, spill.”

“Wow, hearing someone that’s not my parents calling me Bang Chan is so refreshing,” Chan says. “It’s like having 2 personalities. Christopher is this hot, alluring, seductive man no one ever says no to, while Bang Chan is his inner child—soft, caring, funny… but still hot—”

Jisu shoots Chan a deathly glare before smiling at you. “You like Seungmin, don’t you?”

You take a sip of your drink and let her question sink in. Looking at your friends’ faces, you know that it wasn’t even a question. They feel it, and there’s no use of denying your feelings anymore.

“And that’s all we need to know!” Chan exclaims, standing up from his seat. He slips in a few dollars into the bartender’s pocket. “Seungmin doesn’t know we were here.”

Felix slaps his shoulder. “Bro you were literally the one who told him to come here. Stop trying to be cool.”

“Ah… you’re right,” Chan answers as Jisu rolls her eyes. “But anyways, Seungmin is will be here soon. Talk to him, okay?”

After waving them goodbye, you glance at your surroundings. Everyone is chatting with their friends while sipping their drinks happily; they’re in their natural habitat, while you’re just sitting there hoping Seungmin will come soon so you can get out of there as soon as possible. The bartender notices your uneasiness and offers you another drink to try.

Just as you start contemplating to leave, Seungmin enters the bar. He gives you a small wave when his eyes land on you, like it’s natural to see you there. The bartender serves 2 glasses of drinks before Seungmin even reaches you, “Gin and tonic, Mr. Kim’s favorite.”

Taking off his suit, Seungmin sits beside you and sips his drink. “When Chan kept terrorizing me to get here ASAP I know something’s up,” he says, examining your face. “… and you want to leave.”

Without waiting for your answer, Seungmin takes his coat. “Put it on my tab,” he tells the bartender, putting his hand on the small of your back and leads you out.

“Do you want to talk?” he asks after you’re sitting inside his car. “For real this time.”

He sounds apologetic, hurt and hopeful all at once and you recall everything you said to him two years ago. Those words left a deep scar in your heart, you can only imagine how broken Seungmin must have been.

“Yeah, we do need to talk.”

You never want to allow yourself to feel insecure, but the voices in your head get wild sometimes. You hate to admit it, the same way Seungmin hates to admit that he’s not always the calm and strong heir everyone expects him to be.

The only way to tune out those voices is to visit the park near your house to play on the swings

Seungmin has rolled up his sleeves so he could help you push the swings. You try to look over your shoulder. “Kim Seungmin what are you doing? Push it harder!” you demand, to which he shakes his head.

He continues to push the swings gently, still allowing you to feel the cold wind on your face. “No,” he answers firmly. “You’ll get sick.”

Knowing you can’t change his mind, you just let him set the pace, and soon your heart starts to feel lighter. The voices get muffled by Seungmin’s low humming. You have a lot of explaining to do, yet he hasn’t said anything, not even telling you to smile a little. This time you’re not sure if it’s because of the swings or Seungmin or both, but the voices are almost gone now and you decide that’s enough for tonight.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper quietly. Seungmin stops pushing, letting the swings moves by itself before coming to a halt. He kneels down in front of you, a frown on his face. “Why? What did you do?”

“Two years ago… I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you sigh. “I’m sorry I did it like that. And I’m sorry for pestering you the other day. I don’t have any right to force you to tell me things.”

Seungmin heaves a sigh, grabbing your hand to stop you from fiddling with your shirt. He slowly laces his fingers with yours, the warmth of his eyes reminding you of the old happy days when the two of you would sneak out from the shelter to have a picnic under the clear sky. “And I shouldn’t have left,” he reminds you. You only stare into each other’s eyes until he blurts out, “Can we start over?”

You almost cry at how easy and right it feels. You spent years of your adolescent life telling yourself that this wouldn’t work, the wall you built to protect your heart was destroyed by the very person you built it for. But you find it impossible to lie when he’s looking at you with so much hope and adoration. When you finally nod, Seungmin rewards you with his toothy grin that always makes your insides flip.

The voices in your head shout out warnings at you, but you quickly shut all of them down. You’re not going to let them win. You’re not going to let them stop you from loving the only boy you want to love.

“Let’s take things slow, yeah?”

Seungmin beams at your words, pulling you up to envelop you in his arms. He waits until you relax before tightening his hold. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, breathing him in as he mouths words you can’t decipher into your hair. “Remember when you managed to persuade that young couple to adopt Vivi?”

“My lucky day,” you murmur, unconsciously pulling him closer to you.

“It was my lucky day too.”

“Of course it was! The owner also bought you chicken when Jisu and I were the ones working hard! You just nodded along with us!”

Seungmin chuckles. “I got to hold you for the first time that day. You were so happy that Vivi got a new home that you just jumped into my arms. Then you started crying and ruined my Balenciaga shirt, but I was beyond happy. You stayed in my arms until you fell asleep, and I got to watch you sleep.”

You pinch his waist softly. “You’re such a creep.”

Seungmin’s laugh only makes you feel even giddier than you already are, so you just close your eyes and relish in the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist securely. “Shall we go to Jeju tomorrow?” he suggests.

“Jeju?”

He pulls away, enough for him to see your face but still holding you close. “Yeah. I can book us tickets so we can fly tomorrow and spend the whole weekend there. You don’t have internships on weekends, right? We’ll go to pretty places and I’ll take hundreds of pretty photos of you. We can have dinner by the beach since our villa is facing the ocean. You love seafood, right? Our chefs—”

“Kim Seungmin, what happened to taking things slow?” you giggle, causing him to let out a cute frustrated groan. “I’m sorry. How about a road trip to Busan then?”

“You can drive to Busan?”

“You’re underestimating me, love.”

Seungmin’s phone rings when you’re about to utter a sassy remark. He glances at the caller and releases you, his eyes turn cold as he accepts the call. “Yes, father?”

You can’t hear what his father is saying, but whatever it is, Seungmin doesn’t look happy. You reach for his hand carefully, and he quickly squeezes yours while responding to his father in a polite, business-like manner. He walks you to your house, telling his father that he’ll be home soon.

Seungmin pulls you into his arms again as soon as he slides his phone into his pocket. “Duty calls?”

“Mhm,” he replies. “As you can see, I had a meeting today, and Father wants updates.”

“He already involves you in meetings? That’s cool!”

“Nah, I can’t voice out any opinion yet. I’m just there to listen.”

Seungmin detaches himself from you, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “So, I’ll pick you up at 6?”

You nod, not even bothering to protest that it’s too early because you want to see him again soon. Seungmin enters his car and starts the engine. He rolls down the window, grinning when he sees you wave at him. The phone call must have bothered him, but you decided to let it slide. “Text me when you get home,” you tell him.

Take things slow. You have to take things slow.

Not only does Seungmin know how to drive to Busan (while looking extremely attractive behind the wheels), he also knows Busan like the back of his palm. He took you to all the pretty places and took pretty photos of you as promised. Now you’re at the balcony of the Kim family villa (you figure they have apartments and villas scattered in the whole country), nestled in Seungmin’s arms while waiting for the sun to set.

“Wait, sit over there!” Seungmin forces you to move from your spot to the end of the couch. “The angle is pretty!” He snaps a few photos with his newest Leica camera that’s worth a car. You give him your silliest poses before bursting into a fit of giggles. Seungmin puts the camera on the coffee table and pulls you back to him. “Enough photos for today,” he mutters, settling you on his lap. Seungmin never struck you as someone who loves skinship, but he never misses a chance to wrap you in his arms, and you’re not complaining. He probably feels the same blissful comfort you feel whenever the two of you touch.

The sun begins to set, and for a while you focus your gaze on the sky, admiring the way the sun paints it with shades of orange. Seungmin shifts underneath you, pressing a kiss on your exposed shoulder to earn your attention. You meet his eyes, and you see a tinge of worry in them. “What is it?”

Seungmin takes an awfully long time to answer your question, causing you to cup his face. “Tell me.”

“Do you trust me?”

The question has you frowning. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

Seungmin smiles, but the tinge of worry is still reflected through his orbs. “Whatever happens, I’ll try my best to make this work, okay? I’ll do anything to make this work. I want you in my life, more than you can imagine.”

“Seungmin—”

“There will be days when I’ll be away for meetings, there will be days when I’ll feel like absolute shit because of my Father and the business,” he reveals. “Sometimes it will feel like I’m keeping you in the dark and I know you won’t like that, but there are so many things I need to sort out now, and I can’t tell you anything yet. Is that okay?”

You can’t base your relationship on not-knowing! You can’t base your relationship on excuses and blind faith!

“Is it too much if I ask you not to let me wait for too long?”

Seungmin shakes his head so fast you wonder if it hurts his neck. “You know how smart I am,” he boasts. “Trust me, you’ll be amazed at how good I am in getting things done.”

“You better be, there are a lot of people waiting for your help, Lawyer Kim.”

Your boyfriend chuckles. “Speaking of getting things done, I have a request for you.”

“Request?”

“There’s this masked ball held by Chan’s Dad next month, and we’re all attending. I’ve been looking for a nice mask, but everything seems mediocre. Will you design one for me?”

You squeal, immediately attacking him in a tight hug. You’ve always wanted to design jewelries, including masks. The mere thought of buying the materials, matching the design according to Seungmin’s style and drawing all the pretty details launch you to cloud 9 in an instant.

“I guess you like it,” Seungmin singsongs. “I have one more request though.”

You tilt your head in excitement.

“I want you to be my date.”

Your smile falters, but Seungmin tug at your lips softly, gesturing at you to smile again. “Everyone will wear a mask and you’ll only take it off at midnight, so we can leave before midnight if you want. Besides, I’m just a guest. All eyes will be on Chan.”

“But what kind of dress am I supposed to wear? Everyone will—”

“Aren’t you a designer? You’ve sewed a lot of dresses, wear one of them.”

“But they’re not from designer brands, aren’t you ashamed?”

“I don’t care,” Seungmin tells you in the most caring tone. “You’re you, not Julia Choi. Not Felix Lee. Not Christopher Bang. And you’re not me.”

Flashbacks from your painful conversation two years ago come in a flash, but now both of you are looking at it from a whole different perspective. Your smile slowly returns, and Seungmin huffs a sigh of relief. “That’s my girl.”

“Can I tell you something too?”

He nods.

“There will be days when I’ll feel like I’ll never be good enough to succeed in anything,” you begin, biting your lip to prevent tears from falling. “I don’t let myself dwell on it most of the time, but sometimes I fail. Is that okay?”

Seungmin cradles your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ll knock some sense into you whenever you’re about to drown in self-pity!”

You pat his head in return, hoping that this Seungmin—the one whose eyes radiate sunshine and voice laced with honey, the one whose laugh sounds like a sweet melody—will be the Seungmin he shows to the rest of the world more.

Seungmin is still cradling your face, gaze flickering to your lips every now and then, triggering you to do glance at his lips in return. The pull is too tempting, you wonder if you should just crash your lips on his or let him decide for you.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” he whispers, barely audible. Your eyes flutter close, and Seungmin doesn’t waste any time. His lips meet yours in a fleeting kiss, making your breath hitch at how soft and burning his lips feel. Seungmin kisses you deeply, taking his time to savor you and you’re going insane at the way he clutches your waist, the way he hums everytime you pull him closer. It’s almost too much, yet at the same you know he’s still holding back as if he’s afraid that this is all just a fever dream.

“Seungmin, please.”

“Mhmm?” he tries to speak against your lips, hazy eyes gazing into yours.

“More,” you breathe out, determined to make him let go and kiss you the way he wishes to although you’re blushing like mad. “I’m not going anywhere, so just kiss me.”

“You sure?” he mutters, eyes waiting for your approval.

You close your eyes again, and right that moment you feel Seungmin’s lips move against yours. This time, he lets go. Hovering over you, he pours all the feelings he had suppressed for years into the kiss. You’re soon lost in all the love and passion he has for you, his every touch eating your skin alive. You’re lost in Seungmin, Seungmin, Seungmin and you hope he knows you feel the same.

“Stay still!” you yelp, fixing Seungmin’s mask as the limousine stops in front of the ballroom where the party is held. Mr. Song, Seungmin’s chauffeur, opens the door for both of you. You start to panic upon seeing reporters snapping photos of other guests entering the ballroom. Seungmin steps out, looking like His Royal Highness from a reputable kingdom.

He extends his hand to you. “Come on, love. Jisu and the others are already inside.”

The sound of shutters and the blinding flashes almost make you shut the door and tell Mr. Song to drive you home, but Seungmin reaches for your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. “I’m here. You’ll be alright.”

Gathering some courage, you finally set your foot on the ground. Seungmin helps you with a gentle smile he knows will calm you down. He leads you inside, holding your hand a little tighter whenever someone seems to make you uncomfortable.

You spot Jisu from the gold feathery mask she showed you the night before and her signature high ponytail. A redheaded boy joined her with a drink in his hand, and you know for sure that it’s Felix. Everything at this party is grand, and by grand you mean people with diamond-studded dresses, a huge orchestra group, extravagant chandeliers, ice statues, and all kinds of foods and drinks you know absolutely nothing about.

“You okay?” Seungmin asks, releasing your hand to take a slice of chocolate cake that the waiter offers before handing it to you. Jisu squeals at the cake, taking the same cake from the waiter. You look at her in awe as she digs in right away. “How do you eat that at a place like this?” you hiss, earning a laugh from Felix.

“We’re here to enjoy ourselves, darling. Eat up!” he encourages you. You turn to Seungmin, who gives you a spoon. “Why? You love chocolate.”

You take a glance of everyone around you, nobody is eating. They’re either dancing or laughing or drinking. “Do you guys usually eat? Or are you doing this to make me comfortable?”

“We’re not some dukes and duchess Y/N. Wait, even dukes and duchess eat at parties. Shut up and enjoy your cake!” Jisu deadpans with a full mouth, causing you to laugh and do the same. Seungmin keeps his hand on the small of your back all the time, making sure you’re okay. After finishing your cake, he pulls you to the dance floor.

“No Seungmin, I’m not dancing with you,” you yell at him. Seungmin pretends not to hear you, his eyes glint with mischief. He puts your arms around his neck, then his own around your waist. You thank the heavens for the slow music because the last time you danced was in the second grade. Seungmin leads the dance, slowly backing you into a corner and pushes his mask up to plant a kiss on your lips.

“Been dying to do that.” He smirks at you as you glare at him, thankful that the mask is hiding your flushed cheeks. “Thank you for going with me. I know this isn’t your thing,” he adds, twirling you smoothly.

You scoff playfully, caressing his left cheek. “If you’re thankful, ride subway with me for the whole week.”

“Easy,” Seungmin, bringing your hand to his lips. “Your wish is my command, you know that, right?”

“All you need is tux and mask to become all flirty, huh? Did you dream to be a Disney prince?”

Seungmin shrugs, pulling you closer so you can rest your chin on his shoulder. The song comes to an end, switching to a more upbeat one when Seungmin’s phone vibrates. Though reluctantly, he takes the call and walks you to the water fountain near the salad bar.

“I’m at Mr. Bang’s party,” he says. “But Father—okay.”

The call ends just like that. Seungmin curses under his breath, wordlessly taking you back to where Jisu and Felix are standing. “I need to go now,” he breaks the news.

“Dude, you just arrived!” Felix protests.

“It’s my father,” Seungmin informs dryly. The redhead’s eyes become softer, and Jisu dismisses her cousin. “Don’t make him wait,” she urges him. “We’ll take care of Y/N. Who knows, she may find someone cooler than you.”

Seungmin looks at you with so much guilt, so you give him your most convincing smile. “Go. You can tell me about it later.”

After giving you one last “I’m sorry” look, he disappears into the crowd.

Felix cheers when the orchestra plays a song he knows. “Ohhh I love this song! Come on Y/N, time to rock the dance floor!”

As you’re about to pull Jisu along with you, Mr. Song walks toward you. He stops, bowing at the three of you. “Miss Y/N, Young Master asked me to take you.”

“Why? I thought Seungmin is meeting his father?”

“He does have some things to take care of, and you’ve been requested to join him.”

You glance at Jisu and Felix who tense at Mr. Song’s news. “Is this bad? What happened?” you try to ask, but Mr. Song only waits for you.

“It’s okay.” Felix rubs your shoulders. “Go with him.”

You nod. “See you guys later.”

Mr. Song guides you out like he knows the building by heart. Once you’re back inside the limousine, he enters the driver’s seat. “Is everything alright, Mr. Song?”

The old man smiles. “Young Master Seungmin is a very nice boy. He has clear goals and works hard to achieve them. And he wants to make you, especially, happy.”

He stops in front of an abandoned warehouse. You open the door before he does, taking off your heels while he holds the door for you. “Just give him a chance,” he says.

You quicken your pace when you hear someone scream. Peeking inside, you spot at least 10 men dressed in all-black surrounding a man who’s sitting on a chair, his hands tied and eyes blindfolded. Blood oozing from several parts of his body, his face completely bruised.

You look back to where Mr. Song is, but he only gestures at you to come inside. You slide the door a bit more to squeeze yourself in, looking up when you hear a familiar voice.

It’s Seungmin, swinging a baseball bat in his hand, his dress shirt stained with blood. “This will be the last time I ask you,” he hisses, sounding nothing like the Seungmin you know. “Tell me where the Hwangs’ secret hideout is. If not, I’m afraid I’ll have to change my weapon with something more impactful.”

One of the men hands him a gun. Seungmin takes it to the hostage, loading it near his ear. “I-I’ll tell you! Please spare me!”

The hostage goes on to provide all information that Seungmin needs. He swings his bat once again, hitting the hostage’s waist before throwing it again. You’re frozen to your spot, the whole event unfolding right before you feels like a stab on your heart. Seungmin runs his hand through his disheveled hair, then notices you standing there.

“What the fuck Y/N what are you doing here?!” he yells, voice shaky and raspy. Seungmin quickly turns around to his people, pointing at the hostage who’s lost his consciousness. “Take him away,” he commands lowly. “You’re all dismissed.”

The men drag the hostage’s body and leave the place quietly. Now, it’s just you and him facing each other. Seungmin is about to take your hand in his, but decides to stop himself when he realizes that they’re covered in blood.

“Did Mr. Song drive you here?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Your body shakes as you involuntary recall how Seungmin beat the hostage up. The look in his eyes, his emotionless voice, the way he swung his bat without hesitation.

“What are you, Kim Seungmin?” you quiver, taking a step further from him. You need to get out, you need to be anywhere but here. You need something, anything that can make you forget what you just witnessed.

“Please,” Seungmin pleads. “Please Y/N. I’ll tell you everything. Please listen to me.”

“This is what you’ve been trying to hide from me? The fact that you torture people to get what you want?!”

Seungmin eventually grabs your hands, begging you to look at him. “I’m looking for other ways, love,” he utters. “But for now I have to do whatever my father says. His words are law, but I’ve vowed to myself that it won’t be like this for too long. I’ll stop him.”

You swat his hands away. “For years you made me think that we couldn’t be together because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, that no matter what I did I would never be good enough, that I would never be able to fit in. It turns out you’re just saving yourself, aren’t you Kim Seungmin? You only care about yourself!”

“How am I supposed to tell you that this is me, Y/N? How am I supposed to tell you that this is how my family lives? Would you—,” he pauses, wiping his tear-stained cheeks. “Would you even spare me a glance if you knew that I’m no better than a murderer?!”

“That’s up to me to decide!” you shout. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, Seungmin, but you didn’t even give me a choice in the first place!”

When he runs out of words to say, you force your body to turn around, exiting the warehouse with your last bit of strength left. Mr. Song is waiting for you, your heels ready for you to wear. You slip into them, refusing to look into his eyes when he offers you help.

You feel Seungmin’s eyes on you as you walk away. Even after what happened, you can’t help but return his gaze. He looks broken and lost—on other days, you would have run to him and took him into your arms.

But now is not the time, no matter how desperate you are for answers. You turn on your heels, your heart shattering into pieces as you remember the question Seungmin asked you in Busan.

“Do you trust me?”

Jisu’s maid pushes a trolley full of snacks and drinks into her room. You politely refuse everything, but your friend pours herself a glass of champagne, chugging it down in one go. She lets out a dejected sigh once the maid leaves the room, glancing at you warily.

“I’m so, sorry Y/N,” she whispers. “I can’t believe his father did that to you.”

“Did he really send me there so I could see Seungmin like that? And you knew about this?”

“I didn’t!” Jisu exclaims. “I mean, I do get the gist what his father does, but I never knew it was that bad. And I didn’t know he asked Seungmin to do all the dirty deeds himself. That man and his greed.”

Jisu sits beside you. “The way Seungmin’s family runs the law firm changed since his father took over,” she explains. “I guess this is why he wins every single case now. He does literally everything to win, and he expects Seungmin to do things his way later.”

“Has Seungmin ever told you this?”

“No,” she mumbles. “I know Seungmin’s been stressed high school, but I never knew this was the reason. He’s seeing his therapist almost every day, Y/N. I thought you would help him and vice versa. I know the two of you have liked each other since forever. I’m sorry.”

You wrap your arms around her. “You’ve been nothing but sweet to us. You, Felix, Chan… you guys are my everything.”

“How about Seungmin?” Jisu starts sobbing. “I’ll respect your decision whatever it is, but what are you going to do now?”

You try to clear your mind, imagining how you and Seungmin will be if you live without each other. Will you be able to bear the unimaginable pain? Will he?

“Jisu, do you know if Seungmin’s parents are home?”

“No, they’re in Paris with my Mom.”

“Then can you drive me to his place?”

The Kim family butler takes you to Seungmin’s bedroom. He knocks the door, waiting for a while before opening it when nobody answers. The big room is empty, but the attic ladder is pulled down. “Young Master likes to spend his time in the attic. He probably fell asleep there,” the butler says.

You nod, thanking him before climbing up. The attic is neat and warm, with Seungmin’s photos decorating the walls. Several dog plushies are placed on a small wooden rack, while some get special spots near his mattress.

You lie down beside him, taking a good look of his sleeping form. He’s no longer covered in blood (which definitely makes things easier for you), and his steady breathing calms you down within seconds. You wonder how it feels like having to sacrifice everything in order to have everything. You think about how Seungmin wakes up in fear everyday, waiting for his father’s cruel orders.

“Y/N?”

Seungmin blinks at you, squinting to make sure that it’s really you. “Hi. Your butler let me in.”

He scrambles to get up, but you stop him. “Lie down. You must be tired.”

You scoot closer to him, feeling his body tense up when you circle your arms around his torso. “You can tell me everything now.”

Seungmin begins his story, explaining how his father never says no to clients, no matter how impossible their cases are to win. He often works with his clients to eliminate everyone in their way, using any methods possible. When Seungmin started high school, his father told him to watch how the law firm worked, and eventually forced him to do things by himself so he would “toughen up” and “understand how business works.”

“Mr. Song has been helping me form plans to end this. He’s Father’s most trusted person, so he knows everything. I still do fact checks, of course. I’m trying to be as careful as possible. I’m trying to take down my own father, and if I take even a step wrong, it’ll be over for Mother and I.”

You sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you pat his back softly. Seungmin keeps his hands to his side the whole time, afraid to cross the line although you’re glued to him.

“Father has ears everywhere Y/N. He probably knows how serious I am with you and wanted to test you. I’m sorry you had to see all of that.”

“Test me?”

“Yeah. Whoever decides to stay with me after knowing everything will earn his approval.”

“Has anybody else gone through that?”

“No,” he answers. “Believe it or not, you’re my first girlfriend.”

You raise your eyebrow. “Believe it or not? Of course I do, it’s obvious that you had no dating experience!”

“Y/N,” he calls out. “You’re here to say goodbye, right?”

Seungmin has pulled you away, sitting up and waiting for you to do the same. “It’s okay. If I were you, I’d be so disgusted at myself too. Don’t think about me, just think about what’s best for you.”

“You never… killed anyone, right?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll never do that. You have my words.”

“I trust you, Seungmin,” you state. “I asked myself again and again, but my answer remains the same. You’re not a bad person and I trust you. I know you by heart, and I’ll love you as long as I can.”

You wish you could promise only boy you’ve ever loved an eternal love—it sounds beautiful, something that lasts forever. But you know better than to give Seungmin empty promises. He’ll probably break your heart if life doesn’t allow him to change his world, but you’re willing to take the risk.

Seungmin releases the breath he seemed to be holding for the past few minutes. “That’s my girl,” he praises. “That’s all I could ask for.”

“Let’s only think about now, okay? You’re not alone anymore, you have me.”

You cup his cheeks and capture him in a loving kiss, basking in the warmth of his body when he scoops you into his arms. Seungmin’s gestures still feel hesitant, but you convince him with every kiss, with every sweet word you utter against his lips until he finally melts and kisses you harder, each kiss more ardent than before.

“You’re never lacking in my eyes, don’t forget that,” Seungmin tells you, enunciating each word clearly so you’ll let it sink in. “You’ve always been more than enough. Everything I could ask for.”

You only grin, pecking his swollen lips one more time before allowing yourself to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat.

Both of you let your own images of the future loom over you for so long, feeding yourselves with doubt and fear.

Now it’s time to let go.

more a/n: i spent a long time writing this, i hope this is still good and not boring! i’m happy that my first story in 2020 is for seungmin. the ending is somewhat bittersweet, but it was the only option that felt right to me.

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did-he-just-hiss-at-me · 4 years

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ok but,,,, imagine this analodukeceit au

fantasy setting. logan, remus, deceit and virgil a a gang of exiles, cast out for various reasons. they fall in love with each other and go on adventures together.

Logan Blackberry Everton, 27

Expert swordsman. Refuses to harm or threaten anyone he considers an ally with his sword.

Exiled 6 years ago because he "betrayed" the royal throne of the Paawtonia kingdom, by killing the heir, Dayd Harper, on the day before his coronation.

In reality, Dayd was a corrupt ruler waiting to happen, and knew that Dayd was going to bring his kingdom down to ashes.

Before exile, Logan was a royal guard, specifically Patton Harper's personal guard. He & Patton were in love, and when Patton had discovered what Logan had done to his older brother he exiled him, and by the time Patton learned the truth it was too late. Logan was too far away. Their love has faded into history.

Logan's never seen without bandages covering his arms, from shoulder to wrist. Can't tell you why, it's spoilers.

Calm, calculated, but loving. Knows exactly how to calm his lovers due to his experience with having to deal with Patton's occasional mental breakdowns because Patton had a rough childhood.

Ethan "Deceit" Moreau, 25

Works with a staff + sword combo. His boyfs thought his sword was odd for a while until Ethan finally revealed he and the "sword" could cast magic.

Exiled because he was born in an anti-magic kingdom, having magic powers. He naturally knows dark and deceptive magic, and he taught himself some fire & psychic magic later in his life.

Never seen without his body almost 100% covered and part of his face covered. The location that's covered is always changing. Sometimes one eye, sometimes both, sometimes his mouth, etc. It is unknown in the group why he does so. It is theorized to have something to do with his magic, perhaps a side effect? Only Ethan & the people from his home village knows.

Reserved. Keeps things close to his chest(metaphorically). Will take things you say about him seriously and it will take a while before he forgives you for it. He thinks fast on his feet, and is usually the reason his boyfriends dodge being hit by someone, because otherwise they'd have no clue.

Remus & Roman Aveyard, 23

Remus uses a large, spiky battle hammer as a weapon. It's lighter than it looks, most of the impact and damage comes from the spikes. Remus just likes swinging a hammer more than a morningstar.

Roman is never seen without a shield. He'll take any weapon, but he knows to protect himself during combat. He'd never intentionally give up his shield for another person, it's all about keeping himself protected.

Exiled together at the age of 16 for sabotaging their kingdom, Fairience. They hated their father, Romulus, their mother, Farah, and their older brother, Pryce; Which led them to the foolish decision to attempt to assassinate their whole family and take over the throne together. The twins successfully killed off their parents but were halted before getting to their brother.

Pryce took over the throne, the twins got chased out of the kingdom and were hailed fugitives. They tried to stick together until eventually during an ambush they got separated and presumed each other dead, so they went their separate ways.

7 years later which is when the story starts, Remus had ended up in the exile gang this au is about, while Roman became the leader of a gang of thieves. The gang Roman leads is known to bring harm to whoever resists their ways, no matter what. They'll even overthrow their own leader if the leader goes against their ways.

Remus was mostly alone those 7 years, and became touch starved because of it. So this short, rambunctious kid known for frequently going beserk curls up in fear, shaking, just from being touched. Roman however, is not touch starved but is vary wary about strangers touching him, causing him to quickly dodge oncoming contact from someone new faster than most people could, it's a sixth sense for him to know when unfamiliar touch is coming.

Remus is super wild and all over the place, and at times seems so hyper that he must've had a lot of sugar. He's not afraid to roast & talk sh** about someone, and slap a b***h too. But when it comes to his boyfriends, Remus is very affectionate, giving lots of compliments and kisses. He is very good at distracting them from whatever is bothering them as well.

Roman is prideful and despite him keeping a shield with him most of the time, he's not very cautious. He'll dive headfirst into danger with a shield in hand. He's one of the few who can keep Remus under control(aside from Remus's bfs). He will gossip about you, just accept it. On the outside he acts very social and outgoing but on the inside he's very shy and just wants to get away from the crowds.

Roman isn't as big in this AU as Remus is, Roman's just put here for convenience.

Virgil Caverly-Deckett, 24 (His name in the image is wrong)

Rogue, uses close-range weapons like daggers. He intimidates most who get close to him so it gives him the advantage.

Exiled for being only part human. His mother had an affair with a demon, so he's part demon. His birthplace is known for being heavily religious, and all the people saw him as a child of sin. So against his mothers cries for mercy, he was chased out of town the day he turned 8, which is when the rumors of him being part demon were proven due to his demon heritage finally coming to light. He still doesn't know what type of demon he partially is, as the only signs he has shown so far are the tiny horns that stick out of his head, the odd patches of skin on his arms and his sharper-than-average fingernails.

He was found and raised by the Dragon Witch, who is actually a relative of Virgil's birth father. Virgil then left his new home at age 19, because he wanted to make a name for himself out there(as well as find others like him), but he occaisonally visits his "Mother Witch"(as he sometimes refers to her as) whenever he can and spends time with her.

Prior to meeting the exile gang, he stopped speaking sentences longer than 10 words, and nobody knows why except for Virgil himself. Not even his Mother Witch, because he hadn't visited since it happened. He can frequently be seen counting on his fingers over and over.

Vigilant. Was pretty vagrant too, until he met his lovers. Soft spoken when calm, but when in battle or stressed his voice is loud, booming, and aggressive. His glare is powerful due to being part demon, he can convince people to back down with it. He rarely uses it on his boyfriends, its only when it's absolutely necessary. He's super affectionate, but in a cuddly way. He's silently demanding them to cuddle him a lot, and they give in because either they want to or they can't resist.

Other noteworthy characters:

Patton Catonica Harper, 24: Ruler of Paawtonia. Used to be in love with Logan but exiled him out of grief after he killed his brother, Dayd. Found out once Logan was long gone that Lo had done him a favor and has since become a shadow of his former self.

Serilda "Dragon Witch" Caverly, ???: Mother figure to Virgil. Master of making potions, charms, and other magical objects. Casts spells with staff. Has wings on her back that she can shrink for comfort and grow when she wants to fly. She also has dragon-like pupils, and has dragon claws, feet, horns, and tail that she can disguise at will for ease. She is a Draconic Demon.

Remy Brantley, 20: Wizard in training. Focuses on sleep-related spells & items. Has trouble with duration of his spells.

Emile Picani, 23: Patton's head servant and best friend. Essentially Patton's therapist as well, as he's the only one who has helped the depressed king with his trauma.

Thomas Sanders, 21: Wizard in training & Remy's best friend. Born in Paawtonia & is faithful to his kingdom. Knows Logan because they are cousins, was very close to him. Fears the day Logan returns because that means, as a defender of Paawtonia, he would have to kill the intruding exile.

So yeah,,,, Analodukeceit Exiles au. Clothing is slightly too modern for the setting but screw it. i'll draw these extra characters later kshfjshfks only the characters in the ship this au is based around were necessary for this post,,, i only added roman cuz it was easier.

i'm 85% likely gonna write a series about this au,,,, lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist. speaking of which, the taglist: @tottalynotgayatall @ollyollyoxinfree @locked-prism @gyllenhoe-f99 @bexxbeauty @a-random-queer-humanoid(you didn't say you wanted to be tagged but i thought you would like to)

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a-very-fond-farewell · 4 years

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The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 17/?

[tw mentions of bullying]

ACplayer AU: “Pay me in Bells first”

[or, alternatively, the modern!au where Jin Ling overcomes depression in quarantine by playing Animal Crossing New Horizons in an attempt to make friends]

(quick note: I don’t know much about the game, so I urge you to add your own headcanons if you reblog since this prompt is so short!)

YanLi insisted, so Jiang Cheng complied. He looked up many websites to search for answers, checking in with their family therapist even, just to make sure his plan would turn out fine. That was, to get his nephew out of whatever slump he had found himself in after moving yet to another school. Thankfully they moved him out early enough this time around, barely a semester in since the beginning of his first year in high school, but it was still worrying how little Jin Ling could be willing to talk about the issue.

The bullying never stopped since elementary school, stretching well into the kid’s teenage years. All because of his father’s career as an actor and their family’s fortune. Jiang Cheng has seen him attempting to make friends over and over again to no avail: the sweetest child turning sour and brash, clinging to his relatives for dear life no matter how reluctant he looked doing so. It had taken longer this time to figure out new rascals had targeted him in his old school, all because Jin Ling refused to ask for help... or maybe couldn’t bring himself to.

Then quarantine started and none of them knew how to help him. No one would FaceTime or Skype with him aside from his cousin ShiZui and his parents. No phone calls nor emails, no messages, nothing. Wei Ying had suggested him to play some games online, going on quests and such, but Jin Ling had become increasingly more paranoid during these past few years after his attempts to familiarize online with his classmates just to be mocked for his poor shooting or casting or whatever the next day at school.

But YanLi insisted, so Jiang Cheng had to find a solution. That’s why he had dragged ZiXuan in front of a computer to chose a game for Jin Ling and that’s when they came across the adorable and stickingly sweet characters of this silly Japanese game advertising good feelings and even better playing experiences. ZiXuan pointed at the ad and Jiang Cheng could do nothing but shrug and hope for the best.

They left the game on his bed the following week, anxiously waiting for a reaction. YanLi making too much tea for their own good as they counted the minutes before the great reveal. Jin Ling did, at some point, stumble in the living room asking for an explanation, which his father simply provided by saying someone gifted him a Switch in the mail for an advertising gig. Jin Ling quietly thanked him, but didn’t smile... he didn’t even put up a fight, or sputtered some nonsense, or lied about not liking frilly things. Which said a lot to begin with.

Jiang Cheng remembered the days when FB was starting to take over and he hadn’t been able to open an account because none of his peers would have befriended him in real life, let alone online. YanLi still believed that had been a blessing in disguise, given that FB was hell incarnated for snooping around and being messed with and all that, but it had been pretty isolating at the time either way. So Jiang Cheng wasn’t too hopeful when he saw Jin Ling connecting the device to their tv after his homework for the first time.

YanLi would read or cross-stitch next to him on the sofa as he figured out how to make an island or how to decorate his tent, while ZiXuan would observe him trying to catch a tarantula or a fish late in the evening and even cheer for him when he succeeded. Jiang Cheng wasn’t home enough to help him since he worked at the hospital well into the night, but he knew the kid was doing better. Wei Ying and ShiZui would visit Jin Ling’s island from time to time, praising his player lotus_carp for the many improvements to his space and such... but still it wasn’t enough.

Then, one day, when Jiang Cheng came back home at 3am after saying goodbye to the rest of the nurses, he heard something. A laugh. Loud and clear, coming from Jin Ling’s room. Then, the following night, another one. And so on for a week.

After some talking with YanLi, Jiang Cheng figured out his nephew must have made a new friend. Someone visiting his island during the night, a sixteen year old kid named JinGy who lived with a strict grandpa who disapproved his interest in games. A grandpa who didn’t have to know his nephew owned a Switch and could play for hours under the safety of a pillow fort ‘till 5am.

One day, by chance, Jiang Cheng was sitting on the sofa right next to Jin Ling when a player called cloud<3menace came by. He waved enthusiastically at them from the screen and then wrote something on the board.

Let’s hang out when quarantine is over!

To which Jin Ling scoffed and quickly dialed a number on his phone.

“Stop writing that every day. We’ll never leave the house anyway”, he said, hiding a laugh behind his nonplussed expression, before giving up and throwing his head back in front of his uncle after meeting his gaze.

“Jiujiu probably thinks you’re trying to catfish me at this point. He’s looking at me as if I grew another head.”

Hi uncle Jiang! I’m not a bad person please don’t kill me!

“Stop writing nonsense on the board, you idiot!”

You can come too uncle Jiang and see for yourself I’m a good catch for JL.

“What the fuck. Stop! I can’t feel my ribs from laughing. Stop!”

MATCH. MATCH. I MEANT MATCH!!

“That’s not better at all you dingus!”

If Jiang Cheng blinked a little too much to cover the mist in his eyes, well. Nobody needed to know that.

#mdzs #the untamed #cql #ac #mo dao zu shi #jiang cheng #jin ling #the forbidden crack! untamed prompts #mdzs/au: modern #mdzs/au: bonding #onion boy jiang cheng #crybaby jin ling #nurse!jc #actor!zx

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firesofdainix · 5 years

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all my wolves begin to howl, oh wake me up the time is now

Fragments of Jason's life before The Lost Hero.

His mother told him that she would be back, but it has been hours since he had last seen her and Thalia. He calls for them as he crawls through the Wolf House with his hands and feet. Then he starts to cry, and he feels his ordinary life, from his sister, his mother, tearing itself apart inside of him. As if his childhood is finally done, and a new life is ahead of him.

But still, Jason wishes to hold on, to hope that his mother and sister would come back for him. That fades when a lone howl pierces through his baby ears, and a figure steps out from the shadows.

Sadly, Jason wasn't afraid.

Sadly, Jason Grace was taken away from his old home to a new one with the wolves.

And the cycle continues.

Life with the wolves had been fun. Frolicking in the house where his mother and sister left him, spending the day in the woods trying to catch prey.

Lupa is quite a mother wolf, a strict one, but still a mother whom he barely remembers.

Finally, after months of training, Jason Grace at age three is now ready to face on the cruel world to find Camp Jupiter.

To say he didn't look back was not true. He did look back, to see another kid older than him being taught by the same wolves he considered as a family.

His family of wolves seem to have moved on like the family he barely remembered as a child.

They all look up at him, Jason Grace.

Jason Grace.

Son of Jupiter.

Jason Grace.

The King of the God's son, everyone says.

The son of a no good Dad, he wishes to say, but those words were stuck in his throat, refusing to come out.

He wonders if he'll just become like his father, which is his worst nightmare.

Instead of joining the First Cohort like everyone expected him to be, he joins the Fifth Cohort, filled with what they say, the sea of nobodies.

It's good to be a nobody.

The first time he got his mark, it hurts like Hades. There was a brilliant flash of light... and it's there now.

The eagle, symbolizing his father, the SPQR, and a line representing his first year.

The others say he'll get used to the pain.

He already did.

He just chooses to feel numb.

Being marked was supposed to be the most special time. It means that he is fully accepted into the legion, into the arms of the cohorts. He isn't a probatio anymore; he never is treated as one.

They try to make him join their cohorts.

Anything other than the Fifth Cohort.

And he just glares, because he knows they're not being any fair to the members of the Fifth Cohort.

Bigots.

Bullies. He hates them. He hates them all.

They think they're so high and mighty, picking on the younger probatios, but just one glare from Jason Grace and they'll be running another way.

Jason's just a kid.

A six year old.

Ten year olds run away from him.

Jason Grace tries to become a blank slate one time, resulting in him hearing most of the conversation of the bullies he had driven away.

"The Fifth Cohort thinks they're so powerful, just because Jason Grace is with them", one says.

"Just wait until Jason Grace realizes what he's done wrong and leave the Fifth Cohort", another one says.

Fury engulfs Jason. He didn't know what he was doing, unaware.

He didn't know he summoned lightning and killed three people on the spot.

He isn't a blank slate anymore.

Therapists are common in New Rome, of course. Some descendants of the gods had been involved in wars or had been put through many traumatizing moments throughout their life.

Jason thinks he doesn't count as any of those people.

He doesn't even know what war is supposed to be like.

No one here knows how much damage a war will cost.

"All right Jason", the therapist says in a warm voice, just like all the other therapists before her. "I want you to tell me what you have learned the past year in Camp Jupiter."

It was such a simple question. Jason didn't know where every thing went wrong.

"That the Fifth Cohort is the best cohort anyone has ever seen", Jason says nonchalantly.

The therapist nods slowly. Sooner or later she'll give up on him, like all the others. "Anything else."

"Everyone who tries to say other wise are bigots."

"Mister Grace, your language."

"What is even the point of this? To see if you think I regret killing those assholes a year ago."

The therapist nods. "Yes. You should be ashamed of yourself. We would've sentenced you to death-"

"But you don't want to, since I'm a son of Jupiter, is that right?"

The therapist doesn't reply.

It was his eighth birthday today, and everyone from all cohorts gave him a simple phrase of Happy Birthday.

No one asked him if he was fine.

No one dared ask him what happened in the ward.

He just wants to talk to someone, anyone.

He was elevated to a centurion of the Fifth Cohort, along with Dakota.

Together they kill bassilisks in the temples, and lead the war games with their comrades.

Jason is the reason why sometimes, the Fifth Cohort always win in the war games.

Twelfth Legion doesn't bring pride to Jason at all.

He has no idea to why everyone would be okay to be called 'the twelfth best legion'.

Now that he's a centurion, maybe he can change the minds of the campers of Camp Jupiter.

Rename it to First Legion, he says.

They're hesitant.

He knows why.

Only Octavian stands in the way.

He has no Roman pride.

He only has pride within himself.

Octavian was handpicked as the augur and it made Jason's blood boil.

How could he become an augur? Why had their praetors done this? Do they know how much political power and blackmail Octavian has?

Maybe that's why.

The praetors were also scared by his absolute power.

Jason cannot let him be a praetor given a time.

Then a marvelous and life threatening idea looms over his head.

Yes.

That's how it's going to be.

Jason is standing over Octavian's lying body, blankets covering most of it.

Jason was holding his ILVIS sword, tightly too.

He's going to kill Octavian.

He's going to do it.

He trudges over the legacy of Apollo's bed, but something stops him.

Jason regrets stopping because after that Octavian yells something about murder.

He jumps off the window and into the night.

Fuck you hesitation.

Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano.

That's her name.

A daughter of the war goddess Bellona.

That's nice.

She loves Diocletian as much as he does, and they'd stare at portraits everyday while getting lost at the subject of history.

That's good.

She's also his first friend.

That's the best news.

Reyna's been acting strange lately.

After that little quest, their relationship was never the same.

What did that woman do to Reyna?

Sure, they were still talking, but Reyna seems to be distant, as if thinking of something.

Being wary around Jason Grace.

But Jason tries not to give up, trying to still rebuild their friendship.

"So, you're Bryce Lawrence." Jason looks at the boy with the mix of disgust and indignance.

This-this no good son of Orcus really thinks that a little murder is entertainment.

He should've been dead, but his family is one of the most influential families in all of New Rome.

They can't just execute him and face his angry relatives.

But he was a goddamn psychopath.

Gods, Jason already hates him.

A lot of Roman campers have been missing lately.

The praetors said that they were rewarded a quest by the augur.

But they don't come back after a week.

Jason sighs as he flips his coin, transforming it to a sword.

He's going to find those campers and bring them back here.

Jason didn't know what got into him.

One moment, he was fighting a dracaena and another moment he was fighting one of his own kin, a demigod.

But the demigod isn't Roman.

He said he was a son of Hermes.

And he looks a lot like him.

Who is he?

And how could he do this to his Roman kind?

"Join me, Jason", he says.

Luke.

His name is Luke.

"Together we can tear Olympus apart stone by stone!"

Jason shoots lightning at him, but he seems unharmed.

At the end of the day, he fed the traitor Romans to the sharks.

Nico.

Nico di Angelo.

That was the Ambassador of Pluto's name.

People were wary of him.

Jason? He wasn't wary of Nico.

Finally, a cousin.

He seems secretive, but that's alright.

Jason has a lot of secrets.

And one day Nico brings Hazel, also a child of Pluto.

He cherishes them both.

There's a battle.

And he's in it.

Everyone is in it.

Against the Titan Kronos who has escaped from Tartarus.

He didn't tell anyone about that Greek demigod.

But before they go to New York, they have to face Krios first in Mount Othyrs.

It's going to be a long battle.

Their praetors are dead, and many are wounded.

Everyone is panicking, and Jason and Reyna tries to stop them from that.

Reyna comes up with battle tactics, and Jason is quite proud of her.

They march into Krios' domain, where they're faced with a dragon and the Hesperides.

Reyna kills them singlehandedly as the legion descends into battle.

Jason reaches Krios, and that is where it gets messy.

Hand-to-hand combat.

Why is Jason so impulsive?

His face burns.

His legs are tiring.

His right arm is broken.

And the entire legion is watching them, weapons ready.

They want to see if he lives or dies.

He looks up at the sky as he finally kneels for what felt like years, exhaling.

His lungs are burning.

His heart is beating too fast for his own good.

He feels blood on his face, and his eyes hurt.

He finally prays to his dad for the first time in his life.

And he's overcome with strength he had when he and the Romans scaled Mount Othyrs.

Krios is disintegrating, slowly but surely. He growls, but Jason just kicks him in the face.

"Who even are you?", Krios spits out.

Jason smirks. "I'm Jason fucking Grace bitch. And you'll remember me for centuries."

He watches Krios fully disintegrate with a self satisfied smirk.

And he faces his comrades, all full of amazement or intimidation.

Reyna starts to clap.

Sooner or later everyone starts clapping.

They made him and Reyna praetors of the first legion.

He dreams.

He dreams of his achievements, of his mother and sister, of his family.

But something is still missing.

In all his life, he never called anything a 'home', or a 'family'.

Even in Camp Jupiter, where it was supposed to feel at home, he never feels like it.

He finds Juno staring at him with a smile.

No.

He cannot be used as a pawn ever again.

Juno chuckles.

"It is your time now, little hero. Your destiny awaits."

No.

NEVER AGAIN.

Who is he again?

Where is he?

What is he doing here in a bus, in the middle of wilderness?

He feels something warm on his hand, and he looks over to see-

The most beautiful girl he's ever met.

And, suddenly, he feels a pang of hope, that maybe, just maybe, he will find a home and family.

Maybe is a strong word.

"Jason? Are you alright?"

#mine #fanfic #Heroes of Olympus #jason grace #I LOVE JASON GRACE #dark! jason #like i love that concept #some grimdark stuff here

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lovesaadiqa · 3 years

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frankenstein

I really have to fight my depressive self. It fluctuates so much at a time in my life when I am fighting to stay positive on a day to day basis. It used to be hard asf so im grateful but far too often im sad for no apparent reason and I want to know why. Random crying bouts, extreme social withdrawal and just flatout mean. Can admit last year when my depression had cornered me, I refused to tell anyone. I wanted to fix myself.. I read books, expressed gratitude constantly, worked out and read anything I thought would help. It all dwindled away over time and Im back in this space. I hate it cause I want to be happy and have every reason to be but sadness is my shadow. Trying to be extremely careful about what I speak over my life but what else do I call this? I have to isolate myself to process it all, even more dangerous. My suicidal thoughts are back and super prominent but I don’t feel safe opening up to anyone. I feel if just have a conversation about it at all, I’ll end up with someone asking me day after day how I feel. I just want to be able to say “I wouldn’t mind this being my last day here” talking it out and moving on. It’s not that simple though. Im sure people would be shocked to know I don’t have urge to live all the time despite me seeming full of life. I opened up to Marzette about it and he told his side bitch, his cousin, his dad, whoever would listen, shit whenever we would argue after the fact he would definitely tell me to go kill myself. He fucked me up so bad I don’t even want to go to a therapist. I’ve rather sit in the self help aisle at barnes and noble, pick up a book and cry in the pages before I ever admit that shit to anyone else. This shit is no joke. I have every fucking thing! My house is the best I've ever had, I have the car I asked for, shit I even have Lennox (I've wanted a puppy forever), I have money in the bank.. still don’t want to be here. I keep wanting to disappear, like move and not tell anyone or talk to anyone but it’s the remedy to wanting to die and I know it. Genuinely don’t know what to fix to stop feeling like this. I tried to monitor my thoughts, love my self more, busy my days, visit my friends, buy plants, create new shit, read books, travel, eat, cook, sleep it off but still nothing, just sadness. Me and Yoey just had a conversation about suicide the other day and could not for the life of me tell her I needed help. I carried the conversation like I couldn’t relate. Is it the cowardly thing to do? Stacy recently loss someone to suicide, she said it was incredibly selfish of him (her friend) because he left so many people who loved him behind to mourn him. But is he the selfish one? Was he supposed to endure hell on earth to make the people who love him, but couldn’t save him from himself, feel better. They lock you the fuck you if you tell them you want to die. Like yeah make matters worse you know. I talk myself out of it all the time.. today I cut it close and talking wouldn’t due so im super fucking grateful this platform is still here. I get some really dope days but how do I get them consistently and when I don’t how do I convince myself they’ll be back. I just want to be like everyone else you know. Other people have hard days and just deal. Im just not like that, my hard days drag me to hell for no reason. Today was hard but I cannot explain why cause nothing happened different from yesterday. My mind tells me I can’t do this and I do everything in my power to either change my thoughts or I get so high I forget.. I won’t able to survive 100% of my suicidal thoughts so they have to go cause fuck that!

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micahwalkerbait-blog · 6 years

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MICAH WALKER ( LOGAN LERMAN / HE/HIM ) - is an 18 year old SENIOR student at NORTHLAKE High. They sit with the ARTISTS at lunch and are commonly known around school as the SWEETHEART, because they’re +COMPASSIONATE and +LOYAL, but also -INSECURE and -PARANOID.

The Facts

📷 Micah has a reputation in school for being too nice to everyone, always trying to help, and always putting others before himself. He’s quite selfless, and that can be a problem sometimes.

📷 His mother was originally a Northlake High girl from a nice family that ran away with a Southbank boy to Boston, where they had Micah’s brother Derek and then later, Micah

📷 His parents aren’t around now. His mother was an alcoholic and got into a car accident back in Boston, because she drove under the influence and died in the crash (his family didn’t reveal the alcoholism part tho) And his father was a criminal, who couldn’t stand the thought of his one true love being gone. He got sloppy on a heist and killed somebody and got caught. He’s now in jail for probably the rest of his life.

📷 Micah can’t bring himself to open up about his parents. His grandparents raised him and he is blessed for that. They gave Micah everything he wanted, but he never wanted much. He was always a bright smiling boy, despite what happened with his parents. Therapists could never figure him out.

📷 He’s always afraid he’s going to be like his parents, so he makes sure to only do good deeds and treat everyone with kindness. It’s just in his nature. And because of the alcoholism in his family, he will never drink or try drugs, ever.

📷 Going to parties he’s fine with. He likes to have fun and be with friends and everyone else. But he’s always the one making sure people are getting home safely and not drunk driving, which is mostly why he goes to parties, to lowkey watch over people.

📷 Although he’s the class sweetheart, who tries to be friends with everyone and make sure nobody excluded, the boy has some inner turmoil when it comes to the way he sees himself. He’s got some insecurity issues he deals with on the daily and is also real paranoid about things that could be going on, most likely as a resort from his family troubles.

📷 He’s on the school swim team and loves it! He loves swimming, his dream is to move somewhere to be a marine photographer someday. He was already accepted into a great school in Florida, too.

📷 And of course, he’s a photographer. He’s always got his camera around his neck. Which one? Who knows, he uses both digital and film. He often spends his free time in the dark room or on photoshop, working on projects and his own freelance work. He even helps out with the school Year Book and Newspaper.

📷 He has an unexplained passion for all things horror and cult films. never knew why himself, but they are the most interesting things for him to walk, especially when it comes down to anything zombie related.

📷 He’s openly gay and proud of it. He’s also crushing on his ex’s (who moved away btw) best friend from Southbank, who he has become very close with and really likes.

Wanted Connections

The Crush: He might be a friend, but Micah thinks of him much more than that. He was friend’s with Micah’s ex, but even after that, Micah can’t deny that he has feelings for this boy. They hang out all the time, make each other’s days, but they refuse to acknowledge what’s in front of them. @jamesspeaks

Best Friends: Micah needs his group of friends! They can be from any group, they can all be friends together or best friends of his separately. But these are the one’s closest to Micah (since childhood maybe?), that probably even know his secret. (0/4)

Neighbor(s): One or more kids at his school that he grew up right next too. Being helpful and friendly as Micah was, he would have went out of his way to try to befriend them in their younger years. Whether or not they are still friends to this day, up for debate, but their families are most likely the types of neighbors that helped watch after the kids when they were young and exchanged Christmas presents. (0/2)

Ex-Friend: Everyone has that one from from childhood that grew apart. No matter how hard Micah tried, it still happened anyways. They just wanted other friends and to do other things. So they ended up not being friends or talking to each anymore.

Swim Buddies: Micah isn’t the only one that prefers being under water over land sometimes. He has one friend (possibly also from the swim team) that loves to be in the water as much as him. They just like to chill out in the pool, try to race each other, and there’s a lot of splashing involved.

The Model: Somebody at school that Micah goes to whenever he needs some model work done, and this person is happy to do it. They’ve grown closer as friends when Micah started taking photos of them, even if it was professionally, because they spent a lot of one on one time together because of it. @imogen-prinz

Unlikely Friends: Micah is an ear for anyone to listen, even a queen bee/jock like this person. They’re usually not the nicest to people. And they were even bad to Micah for a while. But that never stopped him from being nice still and becoming a confidant for this person to talk to about the deep shit and end up being friends.

The Drunk: Micah always seems to be helping this person the most when it comes to parties, or when the other is away from home and drank too much. Micah is the go-to person they call to help them out so they don’t do anything stupid, and because they know Micah won’t judge them later.

Little Brother Figure: He doesn’t have an actual younger brother. But this underclassmen is the closest thing he has to a little brother. He wants to protect him, help him through school, be there for him and actually enjoys hanging out with the kid. (could also be a younger cousin)

Feel free to hit me up on here or the discord for plots, connections, ect! I’d love to plot Micah with anyone and everyone!!

#norla:intro

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catholicismabusedestiny · 3 years

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What Happened...

12.01.1999

Up until the age of 10 or 11, after the last child was born (and about the same time where my father came to deeply resent my “responsibility for the kids” – which was beat into me for as far back as I can remember); however, once it threatened his role or, more precisely once I started to get a voice, my father did a 180 degree turn and anything I did around the house or with the kids was not likely to get me in trouble.

I’ve spent a life-time being disappointed about various issues pertaining to my family; however, none has been as painful as the adult relationships (or lack thereof) I have with my siblings; therefore, this has been one of the top three topics discussed over 26 years of therapy and I think it’s finally coming into focus thanks to my Minister, Therapist and two close friends.

To begin with, my father’s verbal and emotional abuse is not disputed; it’s to what extent and how it was carried out which appears to be the issue people differ on. As stated, those first 10, 11 years were the hardest of their marriage and on one another; they were untrained, ill-prepared and almost desperate at times and it was something open discussed about by relative and friends – particularly after one of many crisis’s (i.e. 6 births, the house fire, Dad’s accident, the accident the day Patty was born etc.,). Dad would refer to that time as his “Irish luck” but, suffice it to say, those first 12 years were the most difficult for them.

During these difficult times – before my Dad had to be cognizant of who was around and where he was before going off on me – Dad did a lot of yelling and even more criticizing. It was during these years when he developed and began trying out his many phrases he had for me. His unrelenting criticism and disappointment of me was not new and was widely known within the family and beyond. Therefore, in getting back to whether he loved me unconditionally during that time I’d have to say “No, he didn’t show me unconditional love during my early childhood”.

As a result, to those that were horrified by what I said earlier, the only thing I can say is that “you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Moreover, his total lack of respect for me was not only felt but was picked up by all of my siblings; they all knew from the time they could walk and talk that Dad disliked Mike, makes fun of Mike and disrespects Mike; therefore, they, in turn, also disrespected me and it’s only grown worse and has even been passed down to the next generation who will not return a message from me. They were unconscious taught to believe the things Dad said of me; then, by my mid-20’s while in therapy, I confronted my parents on the abuse and came out of the closet.

From the time I engaged in those activities, the abuse factor transferred from Dad to Mom who disapproved of everything I did or said. Although, it was the confronting them on the abuse that she got stuck on; she knew that I knew (or remembered) those early years when all of the physical and verbal abuse was followed by screams from me wanting my Mother. While she still blamed me for what went on, she knew that if I repeated this info to others outside the family that it would negatively reflect on her and that’s not something she could tolerate.

In fact, I think it’s that very point as to why she wanted me to visit more often, as well as all the pressure she put on me to move back to Chicago. More to the point, however, she constantly criticized me (jobs, where I lived, what I did etc.,) and never-ever wanted to hear anything I had to say (I was not to speak with I visited UNLESS it was about kids or marriage). She so resented me that anything she said about me was done with heavy doses of disapproval, accusations I was lying, and a consistent tone that I was not accepted, respected or approved.

With me being gone for all of those decades, there was never anyone to comment on her accusations or to stick up for me; thus, everything was said and taken as gospel. Ironic too that the entire reason why I stayed away (as well as all of those times when I was actually in Chicago but didn’t go home because my Mother refused to allow me to bring anyone with me when I’d visit; and, when I did visit, there were strict instructions about what I could and couldn’t say.

Yet, each Sunday night, after I listened to 20 minutes about babies and weddings, she’d give me shit for not visiting more often AGAIN! Finally, I obviously had to be more direct with her so I said “Mom, you wonder why I don’t visit more often or why I won’t move back and, the truth of the matter is it’s you Mom… you refuse to allow me to bring my bf with me and then you get mad if/when anyone asks me a direct question about my volunteer work, the AID’s epidemic, gay rights etc., etc., So, if my significant other is banned/not welcomed and I’m prevented from talking about my passions and all of the good things I’m doing for the cause of AID’s than why would I even want to attend?”

It’s as though my Mother wants me to be present but she doesn’t want me; she wants me at 19 or 20 – before I came out. “I cannot flip-on or flip-off my life just because you don’t like it…” Moreover, because of this dichotomy between who I am and what my Mother wants me to be, I return home from these visits and fall into a deep depression knowing that I’m not accepted (or respected) for who I am. My friends are well acquainted with the depths of those depression episodes after I visit Chicago and, thus, will give me a few days to myself when I return but, after that, they go all out to force me out of that state of funk.

It wasn’t all that long ago when someone referred to the unconditional love one receives from their father and I stated that I was “unsure” about that; you’d thought I said “Kill All The Babies!” Immediately, my sister and her husband became extremely upset with me and, as such, I became quite irritated with them.

I’m unsure what “con” was played on them while I was gone for 30 years but, one thing is certain:

Ø None of them were around for the first 7 – 8 years of my life; therefore, they have absolutely no idea what took place. Accordingly, I deeply resent anyone telling me what I relive in my bed on a daily basis is not true.

Ø Yes, I did carry around a lot of guilt for decades that Dad’s temper, behavior and his anger ridden tirades were - in some way - my fault (as both of my parents attempted to allege which, in and of itself, every therapist states is abuse). Furthermore, over the years, Therapists have continually stated that I was not responsible for Dad’s behavior or conduct in any way, shape of form.

§ All of this changed permanently, however, on January 12, 2012 when Uncle Chuck asked me “How was your childhood?” That pandora’s box opened up a whole host of bad things that my father had done to me before I was 18 months old.

§ It was further shaped by the very odd or weird things some of Mom and Dad’s life-long friends and extended family members said to me as I became the point person for the dissemination of information re: My Parents Health.

· As they became more comfortable with me – especially since most of them hadn’t spoken to me in decades; and, overtime, I heard things such as: “it’s so good you’re here for your parents now given some of the things that happened in the past...” OR “your Dad was so hard on you growing up; I’m so glad to see that you’re doing well and that you and your father have resolved things…” OR “Mike, I’m proud of you, you’ve been able to put the past behind you and are now working to help your parents… given some of the things that occurred, that’s quite impressive…”

· What I came to realize (or actually remember), any neighbors we had on either Quincy or Thurlow would have (and did) hear, listen and witness things that they’ve not forgotten. I knew that in the summer, with the windows open, that neighbors 10’ away would have heard the loud arguments and much more since my blue bedroom (where most of the physical and verbal abuse took place) was < 10’ from our neighbor to the North on Quincy. On Thurlow, when I was older and learned to always sit near an entrance, I would run outside every time Dad would blow up so his verbal abuse from across the street was legendary. Each time he’d throw me out, disown me and tell the world that I was not his son and that I was just a huge embarrassment that he was ashamed of, was all done outside where everyone around heard and listened. Moreover, Dad’s favorite put-downs and “phrases” such as “you’re worthless and will never amount to anything” were (at least during those first 10 – 12 years when we were on Quincy) said to me at any time and anywhere; it didn’t matter is cousins or Aunt and Uncles were around; although, after about 12 years (or about the time we moved to Thurlow), Mom had been influential in getting Dad to stop saying certain things about the kids outside of our immediate family, thus, he was coached on how bad his behavior reflected upon him and he became more cognizant of who was present when he’d go off.

Ø Therefore, between my bad dreams, my memories, those repressed memories retrieved via hypnosis, countless therapist opinions, my Minister (actually two of those), dozens of self-help books and self-actualization seminars/workshops/courses on being your best and being yourself and more than 3,000 diary entries, I believe I know who I am and I remain very disappointed that my siblings cannot see how their everyday actions of excluding me, not showing me respect and accusing me of lying are all actions intended to provide cover for Mom and Dad’s conduct and behavior.

§ What they don’t see is that I don’t blame out parents; however, they’d have to go through my writings to understand why I believe that’s true and that my actual intent for talking about any of these things is not only to seek truth and knowledge but to break down barriers, demonstrate how much of what went on was handed down from the previous generation and that the ONLY thing I want to ensure is that the dysfunctional, negative, critical and homophobic attitudes DO NOT get handed down to my nieces and nephews. Mom would ask “why do you bring that up?” “Mom, I bring it up because no one has brought it up previously, thus, it becomes engrained and passed down to the next generation. I DO NOT WANT ANY NIECE OR NEPHEW TO GO THROUGH EVEN SOME OF WHAT I DID; I WANT THEM TO FEEL BUILT-UP, NOT TORN DOWN!!

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kittyinhighheels · 6 years

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Good job celly, you just told a suicidal person to go fuckthemselves, hope your "I never get involved in drama" attitude pays off when you act with this kind of hypocrisy

I told a verbally abusive and manipulative person that their mental illness isn´t an excuse for their behavior.

Let me tell you a story, since you apparently don´t seem to unterstand why people like this piss me off.

A few years ago, I had a best friend, let´s call her Leia (name obviously changed). Leia had a pretty abusive family, was in love with a girl who openly admitted to me she played with her and therefore depressed and suicidal. She was miserable but had been by my side through a lot of shit, so of course I did the same for her.

I went out with her late at night, making sure she only downed one bottle of alcohol, broke the others, took away her phone so she wouldn´t message the girl who would never love her and carried her home when she was so drunk she pissed in her room. I did that while making sure her abusive parents didn´t find out their minor daughter got drunk pretty regularly. I did that before going into her bathroom having a panic attack because she reminded me of my alcoholic uncle.

I cancelled plans with other friends to make sure she wouldn´t kill herself, stayed up with her until late after midnight - even when we had school - and talked her out of jumping down that fucking tower we had in my village. I let her hit me and scream at me when I showed our teacher the pictures of her slit wrists to get an adult to help her. I got her a therapist and helped her moving far away from her abusive family. I deleted her pro ana tumblr blog and told her therapist that she was developing an eating disorder to make sure she was safe.

During that time, I went through some of the worst years of my life. I had my ex manipulate and abuse me, I had my cousin trying to get me drunk so her roommate´s son could try and rape me at night, my aunt and her daughter emotionally and physically abused me, my father tried to drag me down the stone stairs, risking to severely injure my body because I got out of his fangs. I relapsed hard. I cut myself, stopped eating until I collapsed at school and spent basically every time Julian was there crying in his arms because I was jaded and he was the only reason I was actually still alive.

I ignored all of it to make sure my best friend, who was basically my platonic soulmate, would be alive the next day.

Summer 2015, it was too much for me. I broke down. I was unable to help Leia, unable to shove my problems aside for her. I didn´t answer with a five page essay anymore when she told me she felt like shit because my mind was filled with depressive and borderline suicidal thoughts. And when I told her that, she got angry at me. I received messages like “I can´t put up with your depressive shit. The last few weeks you weren´t yourself and I don´t like that person. I need you.” or “You´re so selfish. You don´t care about me anymore, do you? You just want me to die, like everyone else. You´re just like my parents!” and my personal highlight: “If you really wouldn´t want me to die, you would make time for me and show me how much I mean to you.”

It had been three weeks that I weren´t able to coddle her anymore and where I basically only asked her to be there for me after two years of me being there for her. I just wanted my best friend to be there for me.

Instead, I received basically the same messages James had received in the screenshots. I was guilt-tripped and verbally abused for having my own problems and focusing on my own life.

After two days of these messages and her lover jumping in trying to excuse her actions, after I had spent a lot of time asking my boyfriend what I had done wrong that I was apparently so worthless to my best friend, I told her to leave me alone and blocked her.

We tried to reconnect many times but she hasn´t changed. She only needed someone who coddled her, who agreed with her that she was an innocent victim and everyone else was the abuser. And I refuse to be that for her anymore.

Being mentally ill doesn´t excuse abusive behavior. I have been suicidal too, I have depression since I can remember. I have been through hell and back. But I would never, ever make someone feel guilty for focusing on their own health. And I would never tell them they are the reason I am going to kill myself because I know that it isn´t.

I don´t want to get involved in drama but I will never let someone act like they are an innocent victim when they are an abuser.

#go fuck yourself anon #really #mental illness doesn´t excuse abuse #Anonymous

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torn-and-frayed · 7 years

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Mental Health - My Story

Under the cut is an abridged version of my story. Feel free to skip it, but I had to get it out somewhere. Hate on me for it if you want, I’m sure someone out there will.

“I think she could benefit from seeing a child psychiatrist.”

I was 6 years old in 1st grade and my parents couldn’t understand it. I was always so happy. I had friends. I wasn’t “abnormal.” Sure, I was shy and sometimes overreacted but every kid is like that, right?

I was always shy, even around most of my family. I didn’t speak much or give affection. They accused me of “not liking” them or “being rude.” What they mistook for me being a snob was anxiety. Even as a little kid I was unbelievably anxious around 99% of people and I couldn’t explain it to them.

I didn’t talk or raise my hand in class. Ever. I didn’t sing or play games willingly unless one of my friends was there to guide me into it. It was just how I was. If I had to do anything in front of the class I’d stare at the floor and because it was elementary school, nobody really ever corrected me or forced me to stare at people.

The one saving grace of elementary school was that I had a few very close friends and I was considered popular I suppose. My uncle worked in the school and people loved him so nobody was really gonna screw with me. Then middle school happened.

I’ve always been overweight. To the point where my grandma J always said I should “stop eating” but then always pressured me to eat at family dinners and my aunt B always made fun of me.

The first day of middle school (6th grade) I was alone at the bus stop and the group of 7th graders there relentlessly called me fat and made pig noises at me. I got to school and it continued all day long. I walked back to the bus at the end of the day and there they were again, hanging out the windows oinking at me. I went home crying about how I couldn’t go back and my dad screamed at me to just drop out then. He didn’t mean to hurt me. He didn’t understand.

It continued every single day. The people I was best friends with the year before in school and all summer break turned on me to be part of the cool kids and bullied me relentlessly. I got attacked in the locker room and the teacher wouldn’t allow me to change in the bathroom. I was grabbed, groped, shoved into the lockers. None of that mattered. The school didn’t care. Nobody cared.

I asked to go back to therapy. I went back. I got medication. My aunt K who is the most psychotic person I’ve ever met and does nothing but start drama found it in the kitchen digging through everyone’s medication and decided to call me out and show her husband. “Oh, you’re depressed? What do you have to be depressed out? Look husband’s name! A depressed teenager!” That was the day I realized that barely anyone is going to take you seriously no matter how hard you want to be taken seriously.

The bullying continued all through middle and high school. It never changed. It never faltered. The depression got worse. The anxiety got out of control. I just took it. One of the only people who understood was my grandma D and she never called it what it was, bless her for that, but every single time the school called to tell her I was “sick” she’d come get me and she’d take me home and she’d never judge me. Not once. She knew. She got it. Until my senior year of high school she almost died and was moved to a nursing home for rehabilitation and everything fell apart.

I became a guidance office aide that year after my English teacher purposefully forced me to have an anxiety attack in front of the class and laughed about it. She thought it was hysterical to watch. So did most of the class. She was a candidate for teacher of the year that year. The big compromise was for me to get out of her class and become a guidance aide. No punishment for her.

I walked into my guidance counselor’s office on my first day back from Christmas break of my senior year and told him that if I had to stay in that school for one more second of one more day I was going to kill myself. In all honesty, in that moment in time it was a power play with no intent but I wanted to be taken seriously and if I was forced to stay, that’s how my story would have ended. We made a deal that day that I would call my doctor and he’d let me leave. I did. He let me leave.

You’d think it gets better here, right? That I got the help that I needed and things turned out peachy? No. I saw my doctor and she suggested a day program for teenagers. I agreed. I went. It was a complete and utter nightmare.

I was placed in group therapy with teens who had various problems that were not anything like mine. I was diagnosed with social anxiety and depression. Group therapy was not the place for me. They tried to force me to talk in a room full of teens who were screaming, violent, etc. Some were transitioning from inpatient to going home. It was not the place for me.

Another point of contention for me is I will not pee in a cup without gloves. I’m a germophobe and I will not do it. They would not let me leave for the day in the care of my parents without drug testing me, despite the fact that I was not there for drugs. I offered blood and hair. They refused. They locked me in the nurse’s office and would not let me out, despite the fact that my dad was standing right outside the door and I was 17 years old. I was crying, panicking, it got to the point where I was throwing my body into the door to get to my dad. I’d spent the entire day forced to socialize with people I was afraid of and then they trapped me. It was too much. My dad finally threatened to call the police and they let me out but it was way too much.

That was the night I went home and tried to kill myself. I thought that the only option I had failed me or rather I failed it. I woke up the next day. That was the day I started cutting.

I finished high school online, secretly of course, because we couldn’t tell the family that I was crazy. It would ruin my image. I walked with my class like nothing ever happened and to this day nobody knows. I kept seeing a therapist. I took medication. I abused the Ambien because I could. I stopped cutting myself. Everything wasn’t fine but it was consistent.

I went to college looking for a fresh start. I didn’t get one there either. I had a roommate who thought it was ok have sex in my bed when I was gone. She hated me from the start because I wasn’t the school spirit sweetheart that she was. She lied and told our RA that I was suicidal after finding my medication and got me sent to the counseling center at 2am, interrogated, then left alone on the complete opposite side of campus to walk back. I left college after that.

I found a job and an apartment. What I didn’t know was the job was only keeping people for the 3-month probationary period then firing them every 3 months like clockwork. So I lost it and had to move back home. It worked out. My health failed and I had to have my first of many surgeries. What was a 2-week recovery took 18 months of my life.

Grandma D died shortly after that and I blamed myself. My rock was gone and it was my fault. I blamed myself for over a year. She lived right around the corner. I have a healthcare background. I should’ve checked on her. She had a visiting nurse every day who said she was fine but maybe if I had done something that morning I could’ve saved her life. She was 87 with diabetes, COPD, and heart disease, but it was my fault. At least, I thought it was.

The following year, my great grandmother died due to hospital negligence. It wasn’t nearly as emotionally devastating but that was the year I became the rock for the family. A role I’ve taken on in spades ever since.

A year after, my uncle committed suicide by hanging in his basement. In hindsight, we should’ve seen it coming. The warning signs were there. He said his goodbyes to everyone a month before. If anyone should have seen it, it should have been me, and fuck if I didn’t miss it. I saw the body immediately after in the hospital while I held my cousin, his very pregnant daughter, in my arms while she cried. I know what that shit does to a family now. I know what I would’ve done to my family. It’s ugly and nobody ever heals from that.

Fast forward to now. I’m 30 years old. I have a bachelor’s degree in Molecular and Cell biology. I’m still stagnant in life. I’ve lost over 100lbs. I’m still bullied. My health is still failing. I’m in crippling pain all the time. I’m staring down the barrel of another surgery that could take away another 2 weeks – 2 years of my life. Any friends I make run away. I have no love life to speak of and never have because…why would I?

Maybe this time I’ve found the right person. Maybe this time I won’t fail the mental health system. Maybe this time the mental health system won’t fail me.

#not spn #personal #tw: depression #tw: anxiety #tw: suicide #tw: cutting

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forceyourway · 7 years

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Tree of Life Shadow Work Challenge

Day Two: “What facet of my childhood have I overlooked or otherwise need to evaluate?”

(Using Loki’s tarot deck, “The Raven’s Prophecy Tarot”)

The Magician - A master of all they undertake, The Magician has extraordinary influence on the world. They’re versatile; they can shape things and bring them into being, alter them, and destroy them. As such, they are in a sense indomitable; they can take whatever the world throws at them and make it their own. I thought this would be Loki’s signifier, as I experience him very much in this way, but he ended up going for the Nine of Wands. I do maintain that he fits the description, and though it may not be is calling card, he is The Magician all the same. This may be about recognizing how he fits into my life, and/or about recognizing my own power and ability to control my destiny. Both, probably. Both is good.

My Childhood

Trace back your memories as far as you can. Try to overview your early life in as much detail as possible. Articulate or otherwise express how you experienced childhood as a whole. Heed to any areas of resistance you encounter. Note pivotal turning points or memories that stand out. Attempt to recall the first time you experienced emotions like sadness, anger, jealousy, anxiety, remorse, and contempt.

TW: abuse, child abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, psychological abuse, mental abuse, spiritual abuse, bullying, Christianity

It sucked, basically. My mom’s abusive, my dad’s abusive, my sister’s abusive, everyone’s abusive.

When I was young, I’m not sure how young, but before 3rd grade, my dad was setting off fireworks in the backyard. He’s still really into that. They’re illegal in my state, so a police car came by, and I think they were asking my dad questions. My babysitter took me and my sister and ran upstairs to hide. Maybe in a closet. I didn’t know what was going to happen and I was scared. That’s probably my first “fear” moment. That or walking in on my mom watching poltergeist, holy shit that was terrifying. I still can’t do scary movies, especially not supernatural ones. I had a crush on the boy who lived a few houses down. He was a few years older than me, and his sister was the babysitter mentioned above. Sometimes I hung out over at their house, playing Sonic and stuff. One day, he and his older brother staged some kind of ridiculous murder scene downstairs. They kept trying to get me down by bribing me with lollipops, but I kept refusing. I knew they were up to something. I don’t remember how I ended up going down - maybe just to get them to stop bugging me - but they played out this whole thing where there was a murderer in the house and he was slowly killing everyone. Ketchup and lemonade (to make their voice hoarse, as if they were choked) were involved. I knew the “blood” was ketchup and that everything was fake, but ended up getting really upset by the thought of my crush being murdered. That’s probably my first “anxiety/despair” moment.

We moved the summer before I started 3rd grade, I think, and stayed there for the entirety of my childhood. I’m not sure when my parents started going at each other. I remember we went to Disney World, maybe when I was in 5th grade? and there was a good bit of screaming at each other then. I don’t remember it before; maybe I was too young to know. Regardless, Disney World is probably my happiest (childhood) memory.

In 5th grade, we went to a Catholic school. I was bullied by pretty much everyone, even my “best friend,” who ended up being a sort of nightmare. But otherwise, nothing too crazy.

When I was in 6th grade, my mom took me and my sister and ran off to another state (where our extended family is). No warning. One day we were just gone. I don’t remember how she explained that to us. We went to a Catholic school that had a serious Hive Mentality thing going on. They didn’t want me and my sister. Our teachers were horrible to us, and I kept ending up in situations where I looked very guilty but was in fact innocent and totally oblivious to what was going on. This is probably the start of “anger.” They wanted to expel me, but couldn’t come up with a reason why. My mom immediately started seeing other people, and my dad was furious. He’s of a very traditional mindset, marriage is forever, your duty is to your family, blah blah. So he did some e-mail hacking and ended up posing as an online therapist, who encouraged my mom to go back to him. She still doesn’t know.

That’s about when shit started getting really bad. He would scream til he was purple about how awful she was, pretty much all hours, pretty much every day, I think. Anti-women slurs everywhere. When me or my sister displeased him, he’d turn it on us. Even casual conversation with him was somehow linked back to our mother “ruining our lives.” At some point there was family therapy, which was an absolute disaster. They said I was “Obsessive Defiant.” I guess “abused” was never even a consideration. He’d start screaming “Defiance!” at me if I didn’t do a thing fast enough, like, “Pass the butter. Defiance!!!” like shit give me a second. My mom I guess blamed us for our dad’s BS and was always on about how we’re ruining her life and how I’m some kind of evil devil child and I’d have nightmares all the time about burning in hell.

The second half of 6th grade I went back into public school, and basically went right to my closest friends from public-elementary-school, who were The Losers. No one else remembered me, so going straight for The Losers pretty much instantly made me one of them. Probably the most, like, “establishing character moment” in my life, and the first "fuck you” at the world moment. Like I was starting to realize what behaviour was not acceptable among people (after fucking up a whole lot first, courtesy of my parents), and pretty much took a hard stand against bullshit, and recognizing my friends being The Losers was messed up. I got bullied. One girl beat the shit out of me once. My dad picked me up from a sleepover at her house, and blamed me for it. Obviously I must have deserved it, or something.

My sister was a weird aggressive child who physically grew up too fast, if you get me. She was always jealous that I got along so well with our cousin (she was like in-between us, age-wise), and her favorite game was Beat Up. It’s exactly what it sounds like, with me as the target. People don’t take notice because she’s younger than me - a good bit younger - but damn if she wasn’t bigger/stronger than me, like. There’s more, but I won’t type that on here. I don’t talk about that.

High school there was more persistent bullying, but never physical. Only the one time ever was. In 9th grade it got to the point where I just stopped talking. I’d talk to like 1 person, and at home because god, can you imagine what would have happened if I went silent at home. “Defiance!!11!1″ I think in 10th it got better. I kind of acquired friends because my (new) best friend was friends with a bunch of people, and I was always hanging out with her. We’re all still friends now. I guess.

No one knew about my family’s issues. Not my friends, anyway. One of my sister’s friends found out once after kind of witnessing my dad beat the shit out of me because I refused to go swimming at the river (I was on my period, dude). He was screaming about how I was destroying the family or something??? I provoked him into hitting me, so he smacked the shit out of me. The poor girl was apparently smacked around herself, because she didn’t take seeing this well at all. I remember my dad was going to drive me to school for my senior picture, and I was tying my shoelaces and clearing my throat. You know how your voice kind of catches in your throat? For some reason he assumed this was me throwing a fit about him not “getting ready fast enough”??? and he started with the usual screaming. I said fine, I’ll walk, not wanting to really ride with that anyway. I get about halfway there, and he’s in the car hanging out the window, purple-red, screaming about how if I don’t get in the car he’ll drag me in, and my mother, my mother, it’s all her fault, I’m just like her. I tried sitting in the back. Wrong choice. He screamed in my face the whole way there. I was crying hysterically at school, but trying to hide it. People who hated me were asking me what was wrong. None of my friends were there. I was trying not to burst into tears literally as they were taking my picture.

It was bad. My childhood was bad. Bad all over. Not sure what you’re looking for here, really.

#Tree of Life Shadow Work Chalenge #Tarot #Divination #Divination Challenges #@unmaskingthedivine #Abuse #Child Abuse #Physical Abuse #Mental Abuse #Psychological Abuse #Trauma #Christianity #Spiritual Abuse #Bullying

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afishwithfeathers · 7 years

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Good Times and Noodle Salad

This is not a comedy piece. This is a paper I wrote while I was at USC film school. The assignment was to compare and contrast a film with another work of art that was not a film. I chose to write about "As Good As It Gets" and the stage musical "Avenue Q." Enjoy. And thanks for reading.

“What if this is as good as it gets?” - Melvin Udall (Jack Nicholson) in “As Good As It Gets.” “Everyone’s a little bit unsatisfied… Everyone goes ‘round a little, empty inside.” - Cast of “Avenue Q” from the song “For Now.” BACKGROUND. “As Good As It Gets,” a feature film, opened in theatres on Christmas Day, 1997. It was written by Mark Andrus and James L. Brooks, and directed by Mr. Brooks. It stars Jack Nicholson, Helen Hunt and Greg Kinnear. The film was the third highest grossing film of all films released in 1997. It currently has a score of 85% favorable on the Rotten Tomatoes website. Mr. Nicholson and Ms. Hunt won Academy Awards for their work. The film was also nominated for Best Picture, Director, Supporting Actor and Screenplay. “Avenue Q,” a stage musical, opened off-Broadway at the Vineyard Theatre on March 20, 2003, where it ran for seven weeks. The songs were written by Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx, and the book was written by Jeff Whitty. The show then transferred to the Golden Theatre on Broadway. It won the Tony for Best Musical, beating out the popular favorite “Wicked.” After a highly successful six year run on Broadway, the show returned to off-Broadway, to the New World Stages theatre, where it performs to this day. THERE IS LIFE OUTSIDE YOUR APARTMENT. At first glance, “As Good As It Gets” and “Avenue Q” may not seem like obvious companion pieces. The first is an A-list film comedy made by multiple Oscar winners. The second is a stage musical featuring puppets in a twisted parody of “Sesame Street.” Yet both deal with the struggles New Yorkers face every day. These include loneliness, crime, economic uncertainty, dissatisfying jobs and the distinct sense of alienation that comes from living in a large city. Neither story shies away from showing the dark side of city life. And yet, both stories remain, each in its way, optimistic about the future and open to the possibility of finding joy in everyday existence.

SUCKS TO BE ME. In the opening number of “Avenue Q,” Princeton, a recent college graduate laments his lack of job prospects in the song “What Do You Do With a B.A. in English?” (Princeton’s specific college major is never stated, but since later in the show he demonstrates a desire to write a stage show, one can safely conclude he was a creative writing or playwriting major.) The character of Simon, a painter featured in “As Good As It Gets” could be a spiritual cousin to Princeton. They are both sensitive and creative but unsuccessful young men living alone in New York. They are fairly normal guys surrounded by far more colorful neighbors. They’re both emotionally overwhelmed by their inabilities to pay their bills. And both are characterized by a profound longing for greater meaning in their lives. As the opening scene in “Avenue Q” continues, more characters appear, joining in the conversation. They argue (in song) as a group over whose life “sucks more.” They all plead (effective) cases that their lives are full of disappointments, unmet needs and overwhelming problems. In a similar scene late in “As Good As It Gets,” the characters discuss their backgrounds and how past disappointments helped to shape their worldviews. Simon talks about how his father rejected him as a teenager, because of his homosexuality. His new friend Carol responds, and Carol’s would-be boyfriend Melvin weighs in as well. CAROL You’ve got to get past it all when it comes to your parents. We all have these horror stories to get over- MELVIN That’s not true. Some of us have great stories, pretty stories that take place at lakes with boats and friends and noodle salad. Just not anybody in this car. But lots of people, that’s their story. Good times. Noodle salad. And that’s what makes it hard. Not that you had it bad but being pissed that so many had it good. THE MORE YOU LOVE SOMEONE THE MORE YOU WANT TO KILL THEM “As Good As It Gets” is primarily the story of Melvin Udall, an obsessive-compulsive writer who lives alone and cares nothing for the problems of other people. He eats his lunch alone every day at the same neighborhood restaurant, waited on by Carol Connelly, the only waitress who can tolerate him. When Carol quits her job to be closer to her ill son, Melvin decides to pay for the boy’s medical expenses. This will allow Carol to continue to be his waitress. Melvin’s act of kindness leads to others, and in time he becomes a more caring person. A sort of connection is formed between Melvin and Carol, gradually evolving into a kind of romance, albeit one where Carol’s patience is continually tested by Melvin’s emotional problems and limitations. At one low point late in the film, Carol finds herself voicing her own frustration to Melvin, when her mother Beverly suddenly appears, joining in the conversation. CAROL Why can’t I have a normal boyfriend? Why?... Just a regular boyfriend who doesn’t go nuts on me. BEVERLY (suddenly appearing) Everybody wants that, dear. It doesn’t exist.

Carol’s dissatisfaction with her love life is similar to the dissatisfaction felt by Kate Monster in “Avenue Q.” Both are attractive, pleasant young women, hopeful that they will find love and impatient with male selfishness. Kate enters into a relationship with Princeton. After an awkward first date and a passionate night of sex, Princeton withdraws, afraid of committing himself. Like Carol, Kate Monster opens up about her love life to an older, presumably wiser woman, in this case, would-be therapist Christmas Eve. (Please note that English is not Asian-American Christmas Eve’s first language.) KATE MONSTER Why can't people get along and love each other, Christmas Eve? CHRISTMAS EVE You think getting along same as loving? Sometimes love right where you hating most, Kate Monster. The two sing a duet. CHRISTMAS EVE The more you love someone the more he make you crazy. The more you love someone the more you wishing him dead! Sometime you look at him and only see fat and lazy. And wanting baseball bat for hitting him on his head! Love... KATE MONSTER Love... CHRISTMAS EVE And hate... KATE MONSTER And hate... CHRISTMAS EVE They like two brothers... KATE MONSTER Brothers... CHRISTMAS EVE Who go on a date. KATE MONSTER Who... what?! CHRISTMAS EVE Where one of them goes, other one follows. You inviting love he also bringing sorrows. As the song continues, Christmas Eve explains how she finds a balance between her love and her frustration. As quoted above, when Christmas Eve looks at her unemployed and overweight husband Brian, she sometimes “only see fat and lazy.” But by the end of the song, she sides with love, which, for her, is the more dominant emotion. CHRISTMAS EVE So if there someone you are wanting so to kill 'em, you go and find him, and you get him, and you NO kill him, cause chances good... CHRISTMAS EVE AND KATE He is your love. In this respect, Christmas Eve is like Simon in “As Good As It Gets.” Early in the film, Simon explains his approach to creating art to his new model. “If you look at someone long enough, you discover their humanity.” It might be said that this is the experience the audience is intended to have while watching the film and getting to know Melvin. (This comment, made early in the film serves as a perhaps too neat summing up of the film as a whole.)

PURPOSE. IT’S THAT LITTLE FLAME THAT LIGHTS A FIRE UNDER YOUR ASS Both stories feature creative young men suffering from emotional paralysis. Simon has lost the will to paint (and live) after a mugging leaves his physically and emotionally damaged. Princeton struggles to find his “purpose” in life. He refuses to allow his existence to be defined by boring office jobs and dissatisfying relationships. Both of these artistic men eventually find transcendence and salvation through their creative work. In “Avenue Q,” at the beginning of act two, the characters try to cheer Princeton up by taking him out of his apartment and going on a fun trip around the city. Similarly, in “As Good As It Gets,” Carol and Melvin take the depressed Simon on a road trip to Baltimore. While staying at the hotel, Simon accidentally observes Carol’s naked body, and bewitched by her beauty, he begins to draw again. The experience invigorates him, and he finds himself able to face the future with newfound optimism. (In the film, Simon’s creative and emotional breakthrough is symbolized, perhaps too blatantly, by having him happily break off his arm cast so that he can draw more effectively.) Like Simon, Princeton in “Avenue Q” also finds his creativity sparked by a random encounter with another person. Meeting someone who reminds him of himself at an earlier stage in his life, Princeton finally finds his purpose. He will write a show about his experiences living on Avenue Q. In both instances, creating art becomes, for these men, an empowering, transcendent experience which helps them break free of their emotional paralysis. WHEN YOU HELP OTHERS, YOU CAN’T HELP HELPING YOURSELF Princeton gives some money to a homeless man, and in so doing, discovers the joy of helping others. He sets out to raise the necessary funds for Kate Monster to achieve her dream of running a school for monsters. (The bulk of the funds come from Trekkie Monster, the character from “Avenue Q” who most resembles Melvin Udall in terms of personality. Like Melvin, Trekkie lives alone, dislikes most people and has a history of childhood trauma and therapy. Both characters are well off financially, and eventually use their wealth to assist young women in need.) Melvin, as has been mentioned earlier, also comes to learn about the inner satisfaction one can experience when helping others in need. Nevertheless, both Melvin and Princeton harbor hopes that their kind acts might facilitate romance with the women they are helping. Kate Monster and Carol Connelly are understandably grateful for the kindness and wary of what happens next. At the end of the play, Kate Monster is reluctant to give her heart fully to Princeton, recognizing, as she does, his commitment issues. Still, his act of generosity has moved her deeply, and she’s willing to meet him half way, and see where the relationship may go. Carol Connelly ends the film in a similar emotional place. Having witnessed Melvin’s generosity, to both her and Simon, she finds herself open to the possibility of a relationship with Melvin.

(It’s also possible that both women are tired of the dating scene. They may have reached the point where they are willing to let go of their idealized expectations and embrace the companionship these flawed but well intentioned men have to offer.) EXCEPT FOR DEATH AND PAYING TAXES EVERYTHING IN LIFE IS ONLY FOR NOW Yes, life in the big city can be cold and alienating, and these stories make no attempt to pretend the dark side of city life doesn’t exist. Yet both stories, in the end, lean ever so cautiously towards optimism. Even in the seemingly heartless world of New York City, there are comforts and pleasures to be found: Friendship. The families we create for ourselves. The satisfaction that comes from helping others. The empowering experience of creating art. The sublime surprise of learning that people aren’t always as bad as we thought. The joy that comes with forgiving the flawed people we love. Perhaps the most important comfort is the enduring hope that life will be better in the future. This life may be as good as it gets, but the problems we face are only for now.

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soberist-blog · 7 years

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I Need To Talk

The Truth

I’m not living with my wife right now. The swings are too much.

If you’re reading this, I’m sure you’re already well acquainted with the way the holidays play out in an alcoholic home. If you’re not, it’s no fucking picnic. This is the third time I’ve left since Christmas. To be honest, I don’t know why I bothered ever going back. Everything I know about the sickness tells me that things are never going to change. More than that, if things are going to change, they’re going to get a hell of a lot worse before the get even a little bit better.

My initial decision to leave was a long time coming. My entire purpose in this marriage up until now has been to maintain the illusion while my wife falls apart – get up, feed the kid, get him dressed, make the hour-long drive to work, put in 10 hours, hike it home, make dinner, tidy the house, go to sleep, repeat. If that’s not enough, there’s an almost uniform certainty that she’ll be a bottle deep and incoherent by the time I finally make it home. I get a knot in my stomach when I get off the highway every day. That’s what happens when home isn’t a safe place, when you have no idea what you’re walking in to.

I packed up all my things just before the New Year and went to stay with my da. He knows this story. On top of being a 14-year sober guy himself, he did this dance with my step-mother for a decade before he decided enough was enough. I like how I feel when I’m at his place – free from expectation, anxiety, fear. Free to be myself. After returning home from that stint of serenity, things were good – for a while. What is it about things being “good for awhile” that makes the next episode so much worse? I’ll work up a formula for that and post it later.

This particular Friday night, I got in the car to start my long trek home to the city from the boonies where I work. When I got in the car I called home. I always call home when I’m leaving work – it gives me an idea of what to expect when I run out of highway and only the driveway looms in front of me. Tonight, a friend of my wife’s picks up the phone. I don’t really listen to her, as I know where this is going. I make myself sick with worry the rest of the way home. In retrospect, I should have turned the car around and found something else to do – somewhere else to be. What I walked in to was a clusterfuck the size of which there exists no scale to measure.

My wife’s friend’s got more coke in her than Tony Montana and is making dinner with my son. There’s food everywhere but in the pots, it seems, and my wife is passed out face down on the tiled basement floor. It’s 6:30 in the evening.

Obviously, I’m unimpressed and need to find an excuse to get the fuck out of here as soon as is possible. After doing my best to make nice for about an hour, I head to the garage to hack a butt. My intention is to stay here until this idiot goes home. She hasn’t shut up since I walked in the door, telling the same story about how she let a fireman fuck her in the ass last night, and what a slut she is. Then she laughs hysterically. I’ve heard the story a dozen times by the time I walk outside. She follows me and switches gears begging me not to be upset about the state of my home. “It’s her birthday, so this is ok”. Wrong, cunt – this is NEVER ok. There’s a child here.

“Would it make you feel better if I sucked your cock? I’ll suck your cock, y’know. It probably won’t go over well with your wife, but I’ll do it. You could fuck me if you want, too.”. I should I have done it. At least if I’d shoved something in her mouth she would have shut the fuck up. Some friend, though.

My wife, at this point, has managed to stagger her way upstairs and the 2 of them now are verbally assaulting me about how intolerant and inhospitable I am to girls on their birthdays. I leave and head to the garage. No one should have to do this kind of thing ever, let alone in a marriage. If I’m honest, I was pretty magnanimous about the whole thing.

After the cunt leaves, my wife breaks into full psycho-mode demanding to know how I could treat her friends so poorly. The bile that comes out of her mouth is a new low for our relationship, and far and away the most offensive speech directed at me since I was incorporated in 1978. I’ve had it now, and I have to leave. It’s just past midnight and I’ve endured as long as I’m able. At the sight of me gathering a few things I’ll need until morning (toothbrush, clean underwear, my e-reader, etc..), my wife wakes our son up and drags him in to the hallway. “Look at him!”, she screams, “Look at him! Abandoning us again! Why don’t you explain to MY son what kind of a man just walks out on his family? You’re a fucking coward”.

It was then that she attacked me. She hit me in the ribs a few times before I decided that, while I couldn’t hit her, I certainly needed to stop this. I pushed her off, but she came back. I pushed harder and she flew across the floor. From there, she charged me. I moved and she tripped, knocking me down on top of her. I was enraged. I wanted to kill her, but I’m not a savage (in spite of the fact that I’m sure I had one hand around her throat when we were down on the ground like that).

[ EDIT – The doctor would tell me a week later that I had a hairline fracture on my bottom-left rib, and the 2 above them were badly bruised. I hurt for a month.]

Our son saw the whole thing. He’s 9 years old.

I didn’t leave the house that night, instead I spent the night with him – both of us trying to make heads-or-tails of the shit show our lives had become. We talked a lot. He asked a lot of hard questions. Questions I still don’t have the answers to. Questions he’ll be doubtless asking his therapist in a few years.

My wife got drunk again the next day. Her friend still won’t come back here because I make her uncomfortable.