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hauntedkidpersona · 2 years

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Once upon a time// Chapter-2

Pairing- Polybts x reader

Summary- Choosing a husband is not easy, but bring in the seven princes and your in a lot of trouble.

Warnings: Gender inequality, Mixed emotions and tensed situation. Other than that, None for now.

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"Outrageous." Their advisor, Khala sternly gave a firm rejection.

It wasn't long before the whole arena had a smoke of doubt filling their lungs, their mind reeling at your decision which was ridiculous, if not stupid. Women can't have more than one husband. It was an unspoken law, and giving it up was wrong. If not sin in the society's eyes.

Your father fumes, "What are you saying?"

From behind, your mother comes, her pace quick. Holding your arms, she pulls you back. "Have you gone mad," she hissed, poison dripping in it.

Even though, somewhere your heart was thudding at the reaction. You very well knew, what you want? This whole event was only kept for your future husband. And if you don't get to have a say and present your voice then what point it had. "Didn't Goddess Seira had five husbands? What's wrong if I want to add two and have seven?"

Your father, pinches the bridge of his nose. As if holding his anger that is seconds from the tip of his sword. You know, it was a stupid move but your eyes refuse to look at them. Instead it moves to the seven princes who are yet to have any say.

"Mortal and goddess have no comparison." A King who you recognise as Liam puts his thought, as you roll your eyes.

"Well, the reason for calling you all was for selecting my groom. Now that I did it, all are suddenly against me. As I said, my interest lies in all the seven men. All have enamoured me with some nor the other qualities. If I were to select one and carry on the alliance, what guarantee will it be that being in the same house as theirs will not have me thinking about the others as any less than the princes who tried to get my favour." You pause, gauging the reaction of the people. It confirmed your doubts, that atleast they were willing to hear your side before coming to a conclusion. "I have to be their sister-in-law who is considered equivalent to a mother. Now the question is, would they see me as a mother figure If I were to be their Kingdom's Queen. Won't that be difficult or did the King of the Sun thought it would be nice to have more options. Just in case, the chosen Prince gets rejected. As far as I know, we only invited one suitor. Not seven."

Tension surged the arena, as the crowd took a hearkens breath to release the meaning behind your words. You see Jin shake his head, ready to counter your words but before he could. Khala comes in, "Princess, I think the situation is more of your dilemma than theirs."

You grimace, "It isn't like the one I chose are not worthy of an alliance."

Jin is silent. Too silent, as his brothers can do nothing but watch the arena becoming a court where everyone is bombarding the Princess with their set of questions and why all this is so wrong?

To be Frank, he doesn't even know that a women can have more than one man. Though, he had heard the tale of the goddess who loved all five Gods. But never have society taken that as an ideal for a women. He could tell, by the way some women threw disgusting glances at the royal family.

Some were appalled at the thought, while some shuddered as if even thinking about it was a sin. The King was furious, and he knew this will not end well for the eldest princess and even if the event was to be pulled off once again. The rumours about her will be too far fetched to even think of retrieving her honour.

An unwed Princess was the last thing a kingdom needs, either you will be thrown out or locked away from the rest of the world. Forgotten at once.

Jin knew that a royal family had every right to detain you for this. Heck you would even be forced into a mental asylum, declared as someone who is suffering mentally. He knew how dirty royals could get, even their own family would hardly matter in front of the citizens. Uprooting their image would be foremost priority.

"We have to do something," he whispers, even as the others pick up his words.

Namjoon sighs, "She can't expect us to be okay with sharing her, it's stupid that she even thought of this." While the others chose not to speak, which only told about their decision. They weren't ready to be your husbands. Much less share you on grounds of marriage. It was unheard of, it seemed bizarre. Almost impossible yet here they all are.

Jin knows, you were one stupid fool. But now they don't have any time for that. Which brought him to the most dreaded conclusion. He knows, their Kingdom needs an alliance. The south province is not to be taken lightly, your family's ancestors have some of the most legendary fighters. One that had made its way to the history of the Sun.

Not only your great-grandfather had supported them in the war against their enemies, but they have also shaped their nation who was on brink of getting invaded. It was the reason, why their Kingdom is always on your side. But to strengthen this bond, his father has especially told him to bring an alliance.

Cause strategically and geographically your kingdom is the most sought after. Not only it is near the banks of the largest river, but it also has a long history with no invasions from the other countries. Your kingdom's influence on culture, language and art is noteworthy. Which means, he has to take a decision. One that will shape his nation's future.

Either in a good or a bad way. Only time can tell that.

"Take her away, we had enough." King's voice crashes the ongoing match to a standstill.

He had to be quick, "I accept this alliance. It would be an honor to have Princess Y/N as our wife and the future Queen of our Kingdom." His answer had Namjoon whip his head, so fast that he was afraid he would have a sprain in his neck.

Yoongi scoffs, "I don't remember saying yes to this shit."

Jin glares at him, which silences him and the others who were ready to throw hands and back away from this whole trap.

Your father looks at Jin, gone were the kind expression from earlier. The one in front of them was a force to reckon with, "You do know what your saying? As the rule suggests, backing away from this alliance would mean instant death."

Jungkook and the others gasp, their mind reeling at the thought of death. In which book was it written that if they don't wanna accept the deal, which they never did except Jin; would result in instant death. Namjoon sighs, having long seen past the facade. The King is making sure they do not back away and nor you stay in here.

As soon, as the garlanding procession is done. They are gonna be waved off.

Your standing dumbfounded, though your glad that the seven accepted the deal. It wasn't long before the priest was called for the vows and a garland of flowers were pushed upon you by the servants who hauled you down the moment their King started shouting orders.

It was chaos, in all the wrong way.

You were hurried like no other, so much that you didn't even have time to properly greet your new husbands. Your belongings were packed, the dowry having been already given alongside you who could only stare back at your father and mother. Their expressions were neutral, as you hoped. No tried to gauge anything but failing to do so, you eye your sisters who have emotions ranging from absolute confusion to grief. Even a hint of anger.

Of course, they were angry at you for pulling this stunt at such a grand event.

The entire ride, you had to sit stiffly. Your maid Anika was with you, which was a relief.

"Congrats, you have made history." She chuckles, even at the face of the death you had dodged so narrowly.

You scowl, pinching her arm as she yelps. The sudden pitch in her tone startling you, as the palanquin comes to a halt. Giving her a glare, you mouth 'all because of you' to which she gives you a huff. Refusing the accusation with a firm shake of her head.

"Is there a problem?" You heard a voice, as whoever is beyond those curtains was patient. Better than the one you had come to know, if not unveil.

Clearing your throat, as best and as quiet as you can. You speak, "No, I was a bit startled when my maid tried to help me unpin my hair." Coming up with an excuse, you apologise to whoever it is.

If you were to be true, you really don't know whether the Princes who you have chosen as your Husbands are gonna be the same as the first impression you had of them. Namjoon is a gentleman, as far as you now. Jin is patience, Hoseok is sweet, Yoongi is ice cold but has great morals. Unlike some Kings. Taehyung and Jimin are so handsome. But it was the youngest who had your mind reeling. Your last conversation was of him pulling your trick back at you. And God, was it embarrassing.

"Okay, Princess." The voice speaks, and before you know the palanquin has come to a halt.

Anika is the first one to get out, telling you to be inside. It wasn't long before she comes back, "Princess, His highness thinks they should stop for a while."

You nod, body aching to stretch already. "Is my tent ready yet?"

Anika smiles, "Yes it is, there's a river nearby. Do you wish to go there?"

You nod, eager to have some cool water. Anika slides the curtains off as you tuck your veil, making sure your face is covered entirely. It was a rule that as a bride your face shall be covered all the time. It was annoying, especially when the hot weather couldn't have any mercy on your body that is suffering from the onslaught of the dress.

Up above, the sky glitters in myriad gems poised as small diamonds. The moon in its full glory reckoning a sight deemed as bizarre nobility.

A group of maids trail behind you as you inch closer, ears picking up the sound of running water. It was soothing, and so you didn't wait to dip your hands. Splashing the water across your face, the servants helped in removing some of your jewelleries.

"Finally, I can breathe freely." You groan, as Anika massages your stiff shoulders.

She chuckles, smoothing down the crease of your veil. "You can go and change in your tent. Until then, I will see how the preparations of food is going?"

You nod, stomach grumbling at the thought of food. Followed by the maids, you move towards the tent but a guard stops you before you could take any step further. "I heard, that the Princess has chosen seven husbands?" The man's wicked grin, boils your blood as you stop your servants who were ready to give him a lesson for even thinking of talking to you in a disrespectful manner.

You can handle him.

Raising an eyebrow, you refuse to reply as he chuckles. His height and strong muscles would not intimidate you. "Why don't you show me how you will please them whor-

His words are cut short, as a sharp attack befalls on his private part. You bend your knee as the said guard falls down, clutching his dick as if it was the most precious possession. "You were saying?" You raise an eyebrow, chuckling over him. "Give him 200 strikes and yeah, rub salt on his wound."

Barking orders at the guards who arrived after hearing the commotion, you leave as the maids tie the guard up. His shrills of anger getting ignored, "Bastard."

You mutter, nose flaring at his blatant disregard of your status. What's so wrong in wishing more than one husband? Didn't the royal men did the same, heck even your father had three wives. And that Adam, that cruel bastard had ten wives and yet he wished to have you.

There were so many loopholes in this tradition of self-groom choice. It was pathetic that royals who looked no less than uncles and a dad of ten were also participating. Adam was rumoured as a cruel royalty, someone who got pleasure in ravaging his property. His wives being at the forefront of it all. But his Kingdom was far more important, and so parents were okay by ignoring him in quest of the privileges that comes with the alliance.

Of course, you were against it but it isn't like destiny can work in your favour.

But atleast, you were able to bend that and change the course in your advantage.

"Princess, are you Okay?" A concerned voice had you whip your head.

It was Taehyung. He looked good, changed into his silk white robes. You bit your lips, atleast you are not regretting your choice. What society says is not your problem. "I am, it wasn't that of a big deal. Anyways."

You shrug, as Taehyung shakes his head. "No, it is. He can't go on spewing nonsense, I will make sure he gets punishment."

You don't speak, letting him do whatever he deems fit. Taking his leave, soon after assuring you, your hauled back to a much needed bath. Anika helps you in removing your clothes as you take a seat on the wooden plank.

Body shivering as you lay bare and vulnerable. "I hope the water is hot."

Anika chuckles, untangling your hair with the comb. "Prince Hoseok made sure that the guards filled the buckets with warm water. Isn't he caring?"

You smile at her words, eyes roaming across the vast tent that shimmers under the moonlight. Lamps lit the bathing space, enough to make your fear of darkness flee from sight.

"I just hope no one barges in while I am bathing." You grumble, eyes moving back to the entrance which is heavily covered in bright red curtains, yet the seed of doubts made it hard to relax.

Anika laughs, smothering the expanse of your arms in turmeric paste. "Rest assure Princess, Our servants and guards are outside. No one will come in, you just relax and enjoy your bath."

You huff, hands pressed on your thighs as Anika works on scrubing your body. Soon after rubbing the paste off of you, your sighing. Even moaning when the warm water falls on you, gliding down your skin in a perfect rhythm. "It feels good." After your bath is done, your quick to wear a silk red robe. Tired wouldn't even begin to explain your condition, you can't even open your eyes. Much less think about eating.

So it wasn't surprising for Anika to have you hurrying back to your tent, where your fast to pull the covers and drown in slumber.

Namjoon frowns, when he doesn't see you with them. Food was already served and you were nowhere to be seen, "Brother, Where is Y/n?"

At this, Jin replies. "She is sleeping,"

Jungkook frowns, "She must be tired then?"

To which Taehyung nods, popping a raspberry into his mouth. The rest of their dinner went silent, apart from Hoseok discussing about moving at the early dawn while Yoongi is in his own world. Somewhat dreading how their parents and people would react to this marriage. He knows, everyone is particularly avoiding that topic. He doesn't even know how you can even sleep in such a tensed moment?

Morning arrived with an icy serenade, beckoning a series of natural phenomenon. One that makes you chuckle, the breeze was cool. You slide the curtains, poking your head to take a look at the passing trees.

A yawn slips past your lips, you had to leave early. And so your maid had to literally force you out of bed, considering what a heavy sleeper you are. It wasn't a shock, when Jimin had to personally come to wake you up.

How embarassing.

You purse your lips, "I can't sit more, why don't we walk instead?"

Jimin chuckles, "Already?"

You look out, as his horse moves just beside your palanquin. "Yeah, it's not that comfortable in here."

You were okay with travelling but for long hours, sitting in one place without an absence of activity had your body ache like anything. Even last night's rest could not bring any relief. It also didn't help when you felt sleepy, the combination of your low state irritating you to hell and back.

"You can come and ride with me, Princess?" Jimin offers, as you weigh down the option.

It was still time before you reach the Kingdom and so with that in mind, you give him a firm nod, entertaining the thought.

Jimin orders the guards to pull the palanquin down, getting out. You and Anika heave a sigh of relief.

She decides to walk along the other servants while you take hold of Jimin's hand and following his instructions. You towed your right feet onto the stirrup, pushing your body up; leaving the rest upto Jimin who hauled you up, hoisting you against his chest.

If not for your heavy dress, you would have preferred your legs on either side. This position was scaring you, so it wasn't your fault when you clutched to Jimin for dear life.

"Hold tight if you don't want to fall, Princess." His teasing voice, had you roll your eyes.

Taehyung and Jimin follow behind you as Jin and Namjoon are in the forefront. It wasn't long before Yoongi and Hoseok join you.

"I hope Jiminie is not disturbing you too much," Hoseok smiles, as you laugh with a shake of your head.

"None that I can't handle."

You could hear Jimin scoff, even as a playful fight ensues between the two. Soon, silence hung across the very air you breathe in. A few handful of hours and you will be inside the Sun Kingdom and the way the Princes are looking at each other with wary glances.

You know, whatever will greet you there won't be pleasant and neither it will be kind.

By now, the King must have heard about your scandalous act. If there's anything that spreads fast than a forest fire then its a rumour. A true one at that is no joke. But you remind yourself, your a royalty. If being a royal has taught you anything, then it's using and bending situation like this up to your advantage.

Your prepared, if not ready.

Bring it on.

#poly bts #bts smut #seokjin x you #slight yandere #taehyung x oc #bts #jimin x you #jungkook x reader #namjoon x you #jin x reader #yoongi x you #hoseok x you #historic #fanfiction #fantasy

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aquanology · 3 years

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SHE LI ANALYSIS CAUSE I CAN!!! (THANKS FOR 50+ FOLLOWERS AND NO THERE'S NOTHING MISSING IN HERE ITS 50+)

Yo so I've reached 50 followers a long while ago and I wanted to do something big but I hesitated and didn't know what to do...I thought a lot about it and it's here. The long awaited She li analysis, I was waiting for the new chapter so I can make this. Anyways I hope you enjoy it (or maybe not?)

So from far away people wo see She li as a Bully Mo and when they learn that his family posses good amounts of money, everyone would see him as a rich brat and I wouldn't blame them, Though that's not all there's to it. it's much deeper and yes I have 5000 IQ how did you know?

Now his childhood wasn't that great looking at how he was surrounded by maids and not his parents most of the time, mostly because they were busy working and when they weren't busy doing work they would be busy arguing about things that little She li didn't know much about.

It was pretty lonely even if people would surround him be it the maids, the other adults or even other kids he wasn't getting the attention of his parents. He might've thought that he wasn't important enough for his parents to spare a moment or two to spend time with him or atleast for his parents to look at his way. He hated their noisy fights and so, like any kid who didn't want to listen to his parent's loud arguments!that might've seemed like a broken record for him at the time, he would go outside to distracte himself. I don't know how many times he had to do this to ignore the pain that his parent's loud fighting has been causing to him, and I don't know how long he spent his time doing that (probably as long as the fighting continued) but I'm pretty sure that what we saw from She Li's flashback wasn't his first time doing so. And I'm sure he was trying to inflict physical pain so he can forgot the mental pain. At that point little She Li might've felt a bit...empty because no one really seemed to genuinely care for him or spend time with him and he didn't seem to have a special relationship with anyone either, he might've felt like he wasn't a human because of all of that.... he might've been sad and angry that he can't experience love and affection perhaps he thought that it's his fault for feeling down all the time, when in reality it was his parents fault for not using the spare time they have for providing She Li with affection and quality time instead of arguing most of the time. I'm sure he felt less of person because he didn't get what he really needed as a kid. But little did She Li know that he will feel less of human the next time his parents argue loudly.

That had started with the routine of his parents fighting and She Li looking for something to distract himself with, he ended up digging for worms and I suspect that he did that for a long while that day in which might've explain the bleeding. Later on he got diagnosed with Guillain-Barre' (Ghee-Yan Bah-Yan) syndrome this syndrome is a autoimmune type, in which a persons own immune system damages the nerves causing muscle weakness or paralysis, it can cause symptoms that last from few weeks to several years however most people recover fully while some have permanent nerve damage.

His thoughts were seemingly messy I wouldn't blame him if he still thought that his parents didn't care about him, I mean it was kind of their fault for not asking about what he does when playing outside or with whom, or for the least bit leaving a maid or two to check on him from time to time. But it was that day when he met a certain person in that hospital.

It was Mo Guan Shan that he saw at the hospital. A kid who was capable of feeling pain both physical and mental, not only that but he has a caring mother who seemed to care about her kid. At that moment She Li must've felt envious, a kid whom he didn't know had everything that She li didn't, he had the ability to feel pain and suffer and on top of that he had someone who cared about him who loved him and gave him attention when he needed it the most.

Perhaps She Li thinks that if Mo Guan Shan would become a happier and a healthier person then he would be superior to She Li, because then he would have something that is far away from She Li's reach and capability.

That's why he keeps on hurting Mo over and over again whenever Mo is feeling better or even worse. Maybe She li feels superior or on the same level as Mo when he stops him from feeling truly happy and at peace with his loved ones. As if only then the gap will become bigger than it was before. Because She Li thinks that he won't be able to be the same as Mo is, I mean he might get his syndrome treated and he might be able to feel the pain (both physical and mental) but She Li isn't sure of he can actually be truly loved or if he will be capable of loving and making someone as happy. And that is why he says things like this:

Of course it's not only to make Mo feel bad (cuz like no would want to be told that they are the same as She Li is) but to also make himself feel like they are the same (be it on the same level or the same type of people) when they are not.

I do think that She Li admires Mo for how human he is and he doesn't want him to be anymore of a human he wants Mo to be the same as him, someone who can't have anyone care about him, someone who might numb out and stop being a human for their own desires and someone who can be as hurt and heartless as She Li is regarding that he is hurt inside. I also think that She Li and He tian are similar I mean both of them were not met with love and affection from their family except He Cheng tried to rub the illusion of their fathers love on He tian, though it didn't work quite well. A relationship where you have to sacrifice everything to receive approval isn't and wouldn't be ideal from He tain's perspective, as well as She Li never talk about how he felt (he most likely didn't) the pain that he got from his parents inability to raise him properly like other parents do (by loving him and spending some time with him). However I'm not blaming everything on his parents they had their reasons yet that doesn't mean that it's justified to argue outloud most of the time and pay less attention for your kid than you with your job and arguments. Also I want to make that this post isn't here to justify She Li's bad actions against other people but to just look at him as something other than a snake, to look at him as a human and to hold accountable are both as important as the other is, and I don't want She Li to just have his actions bite him back but to also learn how bad his actions are. I want him to know very well that he hurt others and I want him to feel guilty and I want him to change, remember staying ignorant can not only hurt him but everyone else but learning where he made mistakes and holding himself accountable can help everyone not only the people hurt by him, us too will highly benefit.

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Hey so this is me- the present me since I don't do this all in one day (cuz I'm a lazy person) so I hope ypu enjoyed this analysis and I hope I made it clear enough that this isn't for justifieing She Li's actions but an attempt to try and understand him. Also I'm sorry cuz I made a post a long while ago about She li and I though he had a different illness than the one in the manhua and I linked a website for that illness, however I deleted the post and I apologize for the big mistake...

This is the link for She Li's actual syndrome if you want to know more about it.

Anyways this was my "Why is She Li a bitch" post- wait, shit this the wrong script...welp can't change it now I guess. Again thank you for 50+ followers stay healthy and don't be a bitch like She Li.

#19 days #She Li analysis #Thank you for 50+ followers❤#this was long I'm sorry #does anyone even bother reading tags or is it just me who does so #be careful of snakes #Mo Guan Shan #He Tian #She Li's parents cuz I mentioned them in the entirety of this post

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punkandsnacks · 4 years

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Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter Eleven; Reveal.

Author: @punk-in-docs & @adamsnackdriver

Also on AO3-

Masterlist-

Trigger Warnings: !!! major blood gore/violence/death !!! in this chapter-

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

Another week in the life of a soon-to-be-wedded young woman perched delicately upon the dizzying precipices of matrimonial bliss; for she had to suffer yet another outing with her intended huffy Sergeant.

They were bid to the local theatre three towns over, this eve, to take a the comedic operatic of a show. A paltry pastime perhaps, Hux was not keen, where Iris entered the evening determined to have some share of joy in it.

She’d often found a healthier outlook far more substantially bearable, than that of a venomous one. A better application of her energy as far as she’s concerned; her determination to enjoy such things outweighs the scope of misery she could place upon her evening.

She’d be sat down upon a comfy seat. In the dark. Not conversing. That sounds like some sheer brazen luck to her; she won’t have to interact with Hux or his overbearing unctuous mother. But then her mind callously interjects that she’d have to spend the rest of her life married to the man. So one night’s reprieve was almost sadly tragic. A happenstance to be mourned.

Pitied. If she had anyone who could so pity her in that manner.

They could certainly pity her now. Sat in a dark coach. Travelling and clunking along to the theatre house.

Hux sit’s opposite inspecting the quality of the shine of his boots. Besmirching his valet’s hand no doubt.

She sits opposite. All wrapped up in her velvet cloak and another silk dress he didn’t compliment her on looking so becoming in.

A better man might’ve atleast called her pretty. Might’ve atleast made her feel just the tiniest bit flattered that he has her on his arm. No such luck with the loveless Armitage Hux.

Moody silence sits with them. Almost as if a completely intrusive third passenger. Heralding the frosty silence that’s colder than the light of the icy moon outside tonight. Catching on all the snow. Shining over brown-frosted hills and dead winter trees.

They come to the gaiety of the theatre. Even as the coach pulls up, Iris can see numerous men and women flocking there. Driven in by the chill and the desire for the show. The name of which is emblazoned above the door. And in peeling posters all along the torch lit front of the stony theatre building.

A creamy edifice of domineering cotswold stone. The sleeting snow, like mush and rain and ice, patters and melts into the roof and seeps soggy into the dirty pavements. Spitting gloopy down from the heavens.

The weather is a foul as Hux’s somber mood. He barely looks at her just as he barely offers her a hand down from his coach. She had wounded his ego most sorely the other night. With the carriage and the wolf debacle.

Iris has never known such frailty or scorned derision greater than that of a man’s bruised ego. Softer than eggshell.

She would be more incensed at his sullen mood. If she wasn’t already suffering in other ways. A persistent headache had taken up residence in her temples. It pinched and hurt and her tolerance for annoyance had furiously lessened.

They cross the steps up the foyer, and cut through the bustling crowds to come to the gathering of their family who await them. Their carriage preceded their own by mere minutes. Maratella rewards herself being so sly and forward thinking in sending Hux to fetch Iris in their second coach whilst the rest of her family rode on with her and Brendol.

She fancied she was giving the budding lovebirds a moment alone; probably imagines they’d steal a kiss or gabble excitedly about their wedding plans. Hopes for the loving future ahead. She wasn’t to know they were barely on speaking terms.

Hux catches her elbow before they reach their assorted relatives. Brings her to a stop.

“Might we endeavour to appear civil, tonight Iris?” Hux speaks lowly into her ear. Stooping over her. Looking as if they are exchanging some lovers secret from a trysting moment.

“I should like to set an example of gentility for yours and my families interests. For we both know what is at stake if we are, after all.... destined to be wed.” He tells with a note of dullness to his voice.

Be still my swooning heart, Iris remarks to herself dryly.

“There is no quarrel between us, Sergeant. And if there is, I assure you, it is certainly not being offered from my quarter.” Iris insists. A veiled comment meant to remind and remark how annoyingly taciturn he was behaving.

Without mistaking her utter joy at correcting a gentleman’s behaviour and the out-coming matter of it being inherently satisfying; she’s more vexed at how he can seem so displeased with her conduct.

He does have the gall to look the tiniest bit ashamed to that confession. He offers her a flicker of a curtly guilty smile. Nodding. “Very well.” He adds.

Iris looks down and gently takes his offered arm. He stands straight. Peacocking, puffing his chest out in his scarlet uniform. They stride across for their families with perfectly false smiles pasted on their faces. An air of geniality seeping out of every pore.

Posy and Flora are the first to not so subtly comment at their sister and the titian haired Sergeant being left alone together for an entire carriage ride. Again.

Her mother leans to Maratella and smiles something unto her friends ear. If her relatives get any the more transparent, Iris strongly suspects she’s going to scream and start tearing out her hair.

Iris nods a hello to the Huxs’. Brendol is in attendance tonight. A man of late age, little hair. Thinning russet red that hints at his sons colouring. He is portly and acts and speaks as if he disapproves greatly of everything in his path.

The man is merely eyeing her with the same bored indifference as his son. Mutters something to his wife about getting to their seats before too long. Looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else. Bedecked in his army uniform too. The heritage of proud soldiers, the noble and gallant Hux ancestors. Men with soldiery and lust for war and medals and honour in their blood, dating as far back as the Normandy landings, most likely.

She felt something then she never fathomed she’d feel for Armitage- she pitied him.

Growing up with a father who domineered and controlled his interests as much as her mother had controlled hers. She was raised and bred for marriage? Hux was raised and bred for the glory of war. No matter if he wanted it or not. Anything to continue the proud heritage. She suspects they are perhaps more alike in that regard than she first thought.

She however, cannot pretend it makes her love him any the more. Respect him slightly, possibly. But her heart and feelings are still sworn away to another man.

“I’m very much anticipating the performance. Maratella you are very generous to invite us all to take use of your box. Such a fine view.” Iris insists to Mrs Hux. She had even said that it would not be so prudent for Iris to start calling her ‘her second Mama’ if she so wished. For they are almost connected as family already.

“Indeed. Miss Ashton you are most welcome. My dear friend and I jointly share the box for the season. I think mayhap you know of her? Lady Spencer...” She preaches jovially. Loudly enough for everyone around them to hear. Whether by design or accident- Iris cannot say.

Iris nods. “Indeed ma’am. We were at her ball at Cavisham House, just last eve.”

Maratella’s face falls with comedic over-exaggeration. “Oh we did most want to attend. Alas so many parties and assemblies we are promised to at present!” She gushed.

“Armitage and I got caught up at the Countess of Whetherby’s assembly last evening. Hux took dances with many fine young ladies. But I dare say he missed you something most acutely awful my dear.” She winked at Iris. Reaching over and patting her hand in mock comfort.

Her levity didn’t lessen the barb of insult that struck through her heart. She’d waited on Hux being in attendance all evening, and he thought so little of her, he took dances with other women.

Now atleast she knew where she stood. No matter Maratella’s telling her otherwise. That pity she spoke of before, quickly dried up. The well of her good thoughts for Hux quickly dried up. As it usually does mere seconds after prevailing herself of his company.

She rather wants to drop the arm of his she’s now holding in fake mannerly affection. Only she doesn’t get the chance too. Maratella is already rabbiting on and boasting about something else.

“Alas, I had word from my poor friend Lady Spencer just this eve. She sent me a missive. I chanced on its arrival just as we made ready to leave. She so hates to decline an invite to the theatre. But she is struck down with pains of the chest. A nervous compliant I fear.” She admits sadly.

“She did say she sent a certain gentleman to take her place. I believe you are of his acquaintance, Mrs Ashton. He claims one with you...”

Mrs Ashton frowns most keenly. “Pray. Who might that be?” She comments.

“That would be me, I believe.” Interjects a new deep voice into their conversation.

Iris’ skin crawls. And not in any sort of horrible way. But the very best way. That smoke and whiskey-molasses voice that sets her bones quivering is like manna to her ears.

So sudden his appearance that all the blood in the upper half of her body rushes suddenly to her face. Heating her cheeks. And she’s never been more aware of her spine being a column of thrashing fizzing and excited nerves.

Their party turns around and sure enough, there is Lord Ren. Stepping out of the shadows of the nearest hallway. He looked oddly at home amongst the scarlet blood walls, the shadows, and the cloaking velvet curtains of the nearest entryway. Hands behind his back. His impassive figure cuts a handsome image.

Black coat and breeches and boots as always. An ivory silk waistcoat the colour of old bones sits on his top half. A searing white cravat knotted at his neck. Collar tipping under his chin. A monochrome monstrosity. So monstrous because he’s so beautiful Iris can liken no other sight in the world like him. He was truly a wondrous beast.

He appears so opportunely. As if summoned by the devil. Sculpted out of thin air. In a great rushing shift of air he brings with him the cologne that’s almost as tantalising as his very handsome looks. Sandalwood, rich dirty earth and something cold and opulent, fragranced, like frost crusted on mint leaf.

Iris takes great pleasure in knowing his mere presence grits her mothers teeth to dust. She’s biting back her tongue. So as not to be uncivil in front of Maratella. Showing up her host was the height of rudeness.

“Lord Ren.” Maratella gasps excitedly. Preening and fussing with her appearance. Kylo looks over at Iris warmly. Sets her soul on fire with those honeyed black eyes before he smoothly rolls his look across to Mrs Hux. His second host for the evening.

His vampiric charms and hypnotic influences seep out of his every pore. The aids to the ultimate predator. He can enchant anyone. Even the vapid likes of Mrs Hux.

She’s reacting to him - blushing and fluffing her hair curls. Even in her late age. Humans are always so susceptible to him. He never has a problem attracting interest. He’s tall, dark and far too beguiling. The weak mortals - of either gender - throw themselves at his feet and fawn into madness that he might dare look at them.

His eyes are however, set upon one prize. And at that very moment; Kylo’s ultimate prize has her hand hooked on another insipid man’s elbow. That won’t do.

He eyes the contact with fleeting derision as Mrs Hux flatters and compliments him every manner. As if her tongue simply drips honey and sugar.

“... Indeed. We are all so honoured you will be making up our merry party this eve. Lord Ren.” She wheedles.

Kylo tips his smirk across at Caroline Ashton. Who looks ready to spit venom at him past her forked tongue. She was reddening with rage. Clutching her hands together like she wanted to break bone.

“I am excessively happy to make up the party.” He smiles. Hoping it would be a dagger in Mrs Ashton’s scaled skin.

“Lady Spencer simply begged the acquaintance on me. I couldn’t possibly in all good grace refuse it.” He shows off.

He sees Caroline flinch and watches the veins strain at her temples. He will torture her for every second. Tenfold. For what she’s putting her daughter through. Making her suffer the attentions of a arduous prick, who thinks himself the finest soldier England has ever produced.

That makes Kylo scoff. He known soldiers like Hux: men who flock to the uniform, quick to put it on. Not so quick to honour its pride and meaning.

Men like him; fighting men like him are one’s born out of centuries and generations upon generations of soldiers forced unto the army life by their domineering and stuffy fathers. Kylo casts an eye over Mr. Hux who boredly inspects his pocket watch. Doesn’t so much as even turn his head toward Kylo.

He’s seen a hundred men like this. And they flee from battle. Unable to take the horror of being cannon fodder. They think themselves above it. Better. Superior. They don and peacock their red coats but when it comes down to committing the savagery of fighting in battle, they run.

Kylo’s slit the throats of a thousand deserters in his day. He’s sure when the next war comes - and it will - he will be called upon to do more of the same.

He’d take ten peasants with the will of iron and guts to defend their homeland with their bare bleeding hands, warring to the bone, over a thousand preening dandy officers like Hux. Ones who picked the lint and specs of dirt off their uniforms. Bragged about their commissions and then would doubtlessly abandon good men to die when battle finally came.

“How long have you known Lady Spencer sir?” Mrs Hux asks.

“Not at all until I met her at the ball last Eve. Mrs Hux. She was most grateful for my ousting an awful drunkard who was causing insult to her guests.” Kylo explains.

Mrs Hux looks amazed. Iris blushes. Posy and Flora look all flirty up at the tall Lord. Mrs Hux looks ready to swoon.

Armitage appears bored and annoyed. “How very gallant of you Lord Ren. Did he offer you insult perhaps, snub your grand title? Laugh at your boots?” Hux sniffs with derision.

Kylo locks eyes with the redheaded cur who dared to offer him, the landed peer, an insult. The ember warmth leeches from Kylos eyes and his smile drops. His stare hardened to black frost. His eyes glitter darkly in the lowlight. Like shiny, scuttling black beetles wings.

“Actually, Sergeant, he offered foul mouthed insult to your beautiful fiancée. You would know of this, had you not left her unattended all evening.”

Hux sneers and his lips twitch to snarl an ugly response. Kylo looks nonplussed. Though behind his back, his knuckles crack white where he curls his fist. And he feels the veins in his arms and his biceps strain, itch and tense not to retaliate.

Sensing the men bristling over Miss Ashton. Maratella suggests they all take to their seats for the performance begins soon. The Ashton’s walk off with Brendol and she takes the time to turn around and hiss at her son. Her sugared smile disappears and coldness takes its place.

“Armitage. Remember your manners. Don’t be so uncouth in front of Iris. And especially not to Lord Ren.” She shrilled at her son, before she takes her leave.

Hux cups over the back of Iris’ hand where it rests on his elbow. Kylo stays stood opposite. Glaring at the man. Seeing his hand on hers made his blood itch for terrible violent things. He aches to reach across and twist Hux’s stupid neck til it crunches into pieces.

What’s worse... is that Hux doesn’t love her.

He will never love her. He is using her for show and want of connection and that is all. Instead of appreciating the beauty on his arm... he’s using her to manipulate the emotions of another man he detests.

Kylo so very much wants to dismember the sad prick. The animal in him claws at its confinement’s. Slobbering maw baying at the gates of his temper. He swallows and keeps it tamed - for now.

“Hux. Please. I beg you. There is no cause for incivility here.” Iris insists.

Sensing the bristling and enflaming of masculine tempers flaring up around her. Kylo looks calm. Hux looks snotty and more and more like a spoilt brat not getting his own way. The poncy Sergeant barely turns his head to her when she speaks.

He’s fraying on the last ragged rope holding Kylo’s inner beast in check. In his time he was raised to hold women in high regard. They were warriors. Mothers. Strong farmers, and skilled craftspeople. People worthy of alignment with men. In this rabid society? They are merely goals and dowries to be won. It sickens him.

Hux looks like he wants to stomp his foot and stroppily exclaim that Lord Ren started it. He eyes as the crowds about them thin away. Off to their seats. He snatches his arm off her. Steps forward.

“Do not dare think to correct me, woman.” Hux says lowly at her. Before he turns his head to Kylo. Still addressing her. But his eyes stabbing into Kylo.

“Lord Ren should be apprised of speaking so discourteously towards me.” He warns. Thank goodness he wasn’t isn’t full ceremonial dress and had his sword strapped to his side. He might have run Kylo through.

Lord Ren raises one sardonic brow. Really, there was an advantage to his lofty peerage ranking as a Lord. It meant he was always in a position to arch a sardonic brow. His smirk tips up on one side too.

“You offer me threat? Sergeant?” Kylo asks. He’s twice the man’s width. And three heads taller.

There’s no question who the real power is. Kylo’s itching to show how much. Slam the pathetic boy up against the nearest wall. Feet off the ground. He could choke him there with one hand. It would be no more to him than swatting away a stray flea.

“I do, Sir. Maybe your foreign ways make you unaware of the standards here in our polite society. But understand me; it is in very poor taste to try a poach a man’s intended from him.” He snarls. Voice reedy thin.

“In my foreign experience...” Kylo digs at his poor choice of words. “I seldom recommend that senseless men such as yourself leave their beautiful ladies unattended. Who knows what may come to pass...” Kylo suggests.

He wouldn’t allude to their kiss last eve and bring her mortification and embarrassment. Hux recoils to spit some more venom but Kylo steps up.

“Perhaps if you bore an ounce of gallantry and backbone you’d be better placed to deserve a woman like Miss Ashton. A curious intelligent woman, whom you can overlook and subjugate at every turn. She deserves a far better spouse than some coward in a uniform.”

“I would call you outside if I believed you had any honour with which to meet me.” Hux seethes.

He was challenging Kylo to an illegal duel. Not over Iris’ honour. But rather his own. How typical. Lord Ren’s amused face quickly turns into the most terrifying expression she’s ever seen. Such fury steeling his handsome features.

“Don’t dare talk down to me, of honour.” Kylo cautions. Iris’ mouth gapes. Such wounded fury in his eyes.

“You believe that because you don a pretty red coat that you are the most valiant warrior to ever set foot on this earth? I’ve seen such carnage and bloody fighting that it would make you shudder in horror and scream out in your dreams. I’ve fought in more wars than you can ever name, boy.” He spits in gross insult.

“I gladly lack many things your fetid society seems to value. But don’t you dare accuse me, of lacking honour.” Kylo seethes.

“I will not waste my time listening to more of this effrontery.” Hux straightens his back. Pretends not to be undignified and stalks off towards the box after his family.

Iris sighs in his wake. It appears he’d forgotten to escort her. She wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing. She didn’t wish to spend time with such a spoilt brat of a man, who can’t look behind his own ignorant scope.

“I detest many things. But a man such as he who so readily and openly snipes to others and thinks himself loftily superior, is not something I can pretend to stomach.” Iris offers to Kylo. Chewing lightly on her lower lip in trepidation.

He walks quick across to her and gently plucks her hand up to kiss it. Putting it on his arm thereafter. If her own idiot of a fiancé won’t escort her, he sure as hell will. Damn the cur for making less of her.

“I’m so sorry for his conduct Lord Ren. And any insult you offered you. ” She offers. Even though he’s trembling with anger and rage, entwined with disgust for that man. He doesn’t let her see how close he came to loosing his temper. A hairs breadth.

He’s sure to look stern. But his eyes are warm. “Your apology is not needed. Iris. He formed and spat those words. You did not.” He tells her seriously. He lets the bitter bile of rage slip off his tongue. She calms him.

Her beauty soothes the beast.

She looks ashamed. Ashamed of being connected to such a low example of man. “A woman is supposed to support her intended in every manner...” She says with perturbation.

“Well. He makes that venture impossible.” Kylo admits lowly. She smiles a little. Agreeing. Though she dare not speak such terms aloud.

“If I might add, You look very handsome tonight. Miss Ashton.” He flatters. Where her cloak was taken some time ago by the porter, the exquisite nature of her dress came into view.

A soft teal blue silk. Simple cut. He’s seen it on her before. The one with the low back and the sweeping train. He admired it on her before, and he will do so again. She shouldn’t be made to feel plain or boring in her dresses when she really did look truly beautiful in each one.

Tonight there is a thin necklace with some pretty sparkles and paste gems of some blue stones set around her neck. He watches the broach of it raise and sink with her breathing. His eyes run unhindered along her collarbone. Watches the jitter of her pearl drop earrings.

They walk up the narrow little carpeted stairs, and come along the hallway. Selecting their door they join the others in Lady Spencer and Mrs Hux’ box. The theatre was not exactly a grand one. Though the building was magnificent in its Georgian architecture it was a small country place of not much elegance. Candles flickered low, and the gloomy edifice is only made bright by the stage lights blinking upwards towards the painted scenery and the backdrop of draped red curtains.

The rest is lost to darkness. Ladies and gentlemen mill about in their seats, shifting in the rows of seats below. The upper circle opposite is populated too. As busy as the rest of the place.

The show is shortly to begin. Kylo doesn’t have time to admire the look on Caroline’s face seeing him deliver Iris to her seat. Glaring at Hux sharply, who gave him his own acerbic look right back. They watch the big impressive Lord stride down the box toward his seat.

Hux leans into her. “I make no such apology for my exit. I cannot stand a man who thinks so meanly of brave soldiers, such as I.”

Iris sighs to herself. Of course he overlooked the fact that he was the one who started the tirade of insults in the first place. He turned Kylo’s chiding the Sergeant onto a martyrdom for all English soldiers.

“I understand.” She says dully. Her head is throbbing. Temples hurt.

If she says anything else she’d get too incensed with him. He didn’t even defend his poor actions. Kylo was directly correct about Hux; he really did have no backbone or honour where she was concerned.

The curtains pull apart. The play begins. Lord Ren settles in his seat. Down the far far end of the box by Maratella and Brendol. Iris finds it not at all ironic or unsurprising that there’s a box length of people between them. Doubtless that was her mothers doing.

Kylo knows it too - he catches her eye where their seats are set back. A wry grin tugs at his lips. Despite herself, Iris blushes at it. She looks down into her lap. Hux turns to the side and catches her blush. Sees how Lord Ren turns away. Smug and smiling. It piqued his interest.

Iris tries to concentrate. But it appears the niggling headache she began to suffer earlier was pounding incessantly at her temples. She’s reminded of it every time there’s sharp clapping or the pitching whine of a violin chorus. The room suddenly feels much too much. Too hot. Too stifling.

Her dress feels too sticky - clinging to her back and her chest. She forgot her fan and she wished she would have remembered it. So she wouldn’t now be gasping for air.

Another thundering round of applause sharply rippled through the theatre. She shuts her eyes and winces at it. How it stings so at her head.

Hux continues clapping beside her. Elbows jostling her. Kylo frowns at the idiot not even sensing she was unwell. He doesn’t applaud. He looks her way with a frown of interest. Brow creased with concern.

It wasn’t long til the intermission now. Barely a half of an hour. Kylo watches her face crumpled in pain. She stands and says something idle and quick to Hux. He nods and she slips away. Out the darkened door. Into the shadows of the dimmed theatre.

Kylo turns his head back. Tries valiantly to concentrate on the insipid comedy play. But he finds he can’t. Especially not as a moment opposite catches his eye. Draws his eyeline to the opposite box. Where a dark coated man with golden hair slips out the door. Smirking directly at Kylo. Piercing eyes stabbed into Kylo’s nonexistent soul. He knows that smirking face.

Viscount Eversleigh. The most foul letch on two legs. The drunkard he had thrown out of the Spencer’s ball last night.

He couldn’t leap up and go after Iris. It would look planned. He had to leave it as long as possible. He tried to think that the perfidious and indocile Eversleigh had gone to fetch a drink. Yet he seemed like the kind of man to order someone to do it for him.

Kylo’s worries and paranoia seeps heavy through his blood like rotten sticky tar. He hates this sickening feeling. He prayed that Eversleigh’s exit wasn’t fuelled by Iris’. He really did.

He has no such blind faith left in mortal men. He may be the darkest foulest creature, but it’s nothing to some men’s filthy aspirations. Some were truly vile. Especially those men gone on drink and snobbery who view the world as quite their own.

Kylo launches out his seat. Hot in pursuit. So quick in fact it rattled back on its far legs as he rose out the thing so quick. Storming for the door. He almost yanked it off - ripping it clean of its hinges, like matchwood. If Hux wouldn’t care for her, the task fell to him. To protect his little Dove.

Iris made her way down the stairs. Stopping before she got to the foyer. She needed air and in search of it, she rounded the stairs up to the boxes and found a narrow dingy hallway which snaked out onto a dark alley.

The door was left wide open and cold slushy grey of night and the scent of damp and dirt spilled inside. Seeping onto the cold wet stone doorstep. Darkened by the spitting slush of rain.

She takes deep lungfuls of the bitter air. It hurts her lungs but the cool feels so soothing on her skin. Her skull still echoes with the nasty pain of headache. But the air helps aids her.

She no longer feels so suffocated. Stifled by this evening and her dress. Forcing herself to be civil to a heartless man she doesn’t want. It takes it toll of her already sore shoulders from carrying the weights if other people’s expectations.

Oddly enough, when she’s talking to Lord Ren, her worries and all those bothersome fretting’s leave her mind. For a second, she feels like someone sees her for the sheer value of herself. See’s and cherished her as a whole. It’s an awfully heady feeling for the likes of her; who always felt sought after merely for marital status and connection. She who was always made to feel like an example of regency gentility for marriage. And never having any dreams or aspirations beyond.

She sighs. Crosses her arms over herself. Hears the silk rasp. Feeling how the cold nibbles savagely at her arms. Stings her chest and turns her necklace to savage ice resting around her throat. Before she starts to shiver, she shifts herself from the doorway and turns to go back inside; entering back into her paltry monotonous existence.

The one that made her chest seize up in panic, the same thing clawing through her blood. The one that made her want to run fleeing every chance she got.

Damn family reputation. Damn propriety and society. She could run for the coast with the meagre pin money she has saved. Hidden behind the loose skirting in her bedroom. Behind the door. She’s gotten used to stashing the odd sixpence in the velvet pouch therein. She has a neat little sum tidied away by now.

She could go for the coast. Where no one knows her. Down and across to Dorset and seek for work. Or maybe Plymouth? Perhaps give herself a new name. Invent a dead husband who died in the war, invent a past that wasn’t at all true. Wear a wedding band that represented nothing more than a falsehood.

She may yet find work in some great grand house for a noble family. She has a good brain and much knowledge, she could be a Governess well enough. Teach young girls or young masters in the nursery. She was so vastly tempted by the idea. Atleast that way she’d have a life she could control.

She’d almost run away so many times. She was merely ten and four the first time she tried.

Barely longer in the tooth than Flora was now. And she’d wanted to bundle her meagre possessions into a carpet bag, and go scrounge together a life earning a measly palm full of pennies in some dirty gin soaked tavern on the outskirts of London, where no one would know her. Anything was a desirable alternative to staying and having her head bitten off day in day out by her mother. Always ready to find fault with her eldest.

Caroline Ashton’s fears of propriety and want for connection completely ate her up. There was no affection in her of any sort.

There wasn’t anything else there in the woman behind that porcelain front. Iris remembers learning that the day her mother clipped her across her cheek in a harsh slap for not getting the practiced dance steps right. That was the first night she dreamed of running away.

She regrets the memories now. They are no more than barbed reminders of her failed hopes. She’s never been brave enough to run. Her penance for her spoilt dreams. She’s stayed. She’s the biggest coward she knows of. Never could quite summon the guts to do it.

She sighs deeply. Turning and heading for her seat; the intermission began soon. She wanted to avoid the crowds if at all possible. She makes it just to the corner of the dingy hallway.

And where she’s looking down at her feet, when she looks up she’s gasping and jolting backwards at the sudden apparition of the man before her. Blocking all discernible light from the hallway beyond.

Stood there with his foppish mane of honey curls. His sapphire coat and his biscuit coloured breeches. Viscount Eversleigh. He stands. Smirking. Twiddling the golden sovereign ring around around around on his little finger. Anticipating her.

So suddenly she shrunk back with a gasp. “Lord Eversleigh.” Iris timidly greets him. Her back hits the wall where she stumbled.

“Iris. Isn’t it?” He seeks. She doesn’t care for the fumes of whiskey on his breath and on his jacket. Or his attentions. His manners. His looks. She didn’t care for anything and everything about him. And if he had a dog too? Well. She didn’t care for that either.

“We are not intimately acquainted.” She dismisses. He would never have known her first name.

He chuckled and stalks slowly towards her still. Backing her into the wall. She had nowhere else to go. Her hands scrabble against the smooth cold plaster. She can hear her heart hammering in her ears. Aware her chest is heaving and he notices this too.

“We could be...” He smarms at her. Smile tugging up. There’s a glazed look of something she can’t quite read in his eyes. And it’s bright and awful.

“Tell me, my dear, how long have you been lifting your skirts for Lord Ren?” He coos. Flattening her to the wall. His coat brushing her chest. “How long has he been fucking you?”

She’s mortified. And scared. Her mouth gapes. Such insulting speech. “I beg your pardon...” She gasps.

“Don’t be all missish. My dear. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way he pays court to you. Holds your hand. Much more than that redheaded prick does.” He scoffs. The shock of his foul language lands on her skin like the lashes of a cracking whip. They leave her sore and reeling.

“Indeed you are mistaken, Sir. And you are drunk.” She holds firm but her voice wobbles. She recoils from his breath as he stood over her. Intimidating. Hands flat to the wall by her shoulders.

One either side. He’s enclosing her. Trapping her. She turns her head to the side. Repulsed. He watches her neck corded, straining with each breath.

She feels the heat of his breath roll down her skin. “Please move...” She ushers lowly.

“How often does he get you under him? Hmm? Every day? Every week. Do you scamper over to his estate under the guise of running errands. Get on your back for him. Knees spread to the sky.” He drawls. “Bet you look a pretty picture... lying out under him, ready to be rutted.”

Iris glares up at him. She grits her jaw. She’s dealt with the foul four legged creature of fangs and venom that is her mother. Like a Greek harpy. She tries not to let this entitled man scare her.

“Get off of me.” She bites in a lethal little whisper. Full of rage and grit teeth. She almost shakes with it. He was making her feel lesser than her worth. She won’t stand for that. Not under any condition.

He smiles more. His hand skims down for her hip. Brute fingers rasping the silk. He grips the side of her thigh. Hard. He licks his dry lips and she wants to empty her stomach contents onto his shiny brown boots. “A man like me could make good use of such a gorgeous plump arse such as yours, Iris.”

She’s had more than enough. She brings her hand up, striking quick, she slaps him hard across the cheek. He’s too drunk and stupid to respond quickly. He had none of his wits about him.

She wriggles out from under him. Gathers up her skirts as a bundle in her arms and dashes away. She hears the commotion of him. His boots clack the tiles. He shouts and barks after her slurring. He sounds like he was following. Pursuing her.

And then it stops. It all stops.

There’s a garbled yell. Muffled and the yelling. And then, silence. Nothing but the sleeting rain pattering down on the stone doorstep where she was just stood. The wind howling down through the open door. Bringing the bitter frosty cold with it. Howling desolate down the eerily silent hallway.

“Turn back.” Comes that silvery honey voice in her head. The ancient one she can’t fathom to whom it belongs. It’s almost as if it’s always been there. Always croons sweet melodic things at her. The silvery voice that swims in her dreams.

“Turn back around. You’re perfectly safe little spark. There’s something you need to see...”

Something terrible is ringing dark and violent down in her bones. It makes her slow to a stop.

She doesn’t know why. But something within her along with that voice, calls upon her body to stop. And she turns back.

He wasn’t there-

She thinks she’s descending into madness. That she dreamt him. Or made him up. But then again, the fumes on his breath were far too vile for her to have conjured them up. Foul breath and sloshes of Scottish malt whiskey. She saw a stain on his collar where it had dribbled onto his chin. Down onto his cravat. She couldn’t have made up such an unnecessary detail as that.

She treads cautiously back down the tiled corridor she just fled down. Eyes flitting all over. She must be taking leave of her senses. Venturing back into the place where the man she ran from is residing.

She comes to the corner. Puts her cold hand to the wall to steady herself. The rain is louder. The wind howls more vicious. The cold pricks her skin like a ream of dressmakers needles rasping her into pain. The hair on the back of her nape stands to vulgar attention. Black nasty fear rotting in her veins like cloying syrup. Her heart feels too loud.

A whimper leaves her throat. Her chest pounds ragged with a shaky breath that leaves her in a tremble.

For there’s a handprint smear of blood and spraying droplets dribbling down the pale yellow wall just ahead.

Her gaze is drawn to the tiles of the floor, where little crimson drips shimmer in the half light, leading out the door. Into the raining and the dirt and the foul smog of the open brick alley way beyond.

Through the rain and the dark. She focuses on the big dark shape she can identify as a man. Hunched over. Her gaze is drawn downwards to the pair of wet brown boots. Dripping with something viscous and black.

Scarlet-black. Blood.

Those lifeless legs and limp arms lay prostate against this humungous dark shape. Bowed over the soon to be corpse. Dark head bowed. Iris recognises the scent of the cologne fading in the air. Mint leaf. Sandalwood. And rich dark earth.

And she can hear slurping and groaning.

Her eyes cannot help but leak tears. Sheer fear bubbling up in her body.

She almost can’t comprehend what she’s seeing. Her eyes must be traitors. They’re lying to her. She can’t possibly be seeing this. This must be the death of her sanity. Throw it in a grave and cover it with soil. Mourn the loss of her saneness.

There’s a slick thud as the dark shape drops the figure in its arms. Bloodied pale hands, big wide hands, drop Eversleigh’s blue coat collar. The limp man looks comically small against this dark beasts proportions. He’s dropped to the mud and dirt of the alley floor. Strewn into the filth where he belongs. The dark shape puts one hand to the brick wall. Crimson cakes it’s round yet sharp fingernails. It’s human hands.

It turns its shaggy head back to her. It’s not a beast. It’s a man. With gold eyes ringed with garnet.

Lord Ren.

And there is blood smeared raw and dripping down his mouth. Over two sharp fangs protruding from his plump upper lip. Staining his teeth. Running in sticky red rivulets over his handsome chin and dribbling down his white silk waistcoat.

He looks right into her. Pierced into her eyes and stunned her brain, persuading her not to move so much as one muscle.

She can’t know how long they stand there gazing at each other. Kylo stalks in to her. Sleeting slushy rain dotting on his hair. On his shoulders. On his blood stained front. She shrinks to the wall. Tears silver in her shimmering eyes.

She wants to speak. She can only stare. He’s nearing the doorstep.

“Little dove...” He seeks. Panting. Her eyes catch on the way that even his usually white teeth are bleeding crimson. It sticks in the cracks between them.

“Wh-what...” She seeks. Shakes her head in disbelief.

“Iris. I will not hurt you. I offer you no threat. Believe me.” He pledges. Reaching out a steady bloodied hand to her. Raising them both. Showing her he means his word. He means no danger to her. Never to her.

She doesn’t know if she’d rather sob, or run or scream- her brain cannot choose which.

“There’s this voice in my head.” She begins in a sob. Shakily pointing at her throbbing temple.

“And it’s telling me to..to... trust you.” She cries. Conflicted by the blood lusting monster she sees in the man before her. Caught in those haunting eyes and the blood and the gore of this shocking moment. He’s the same, yet so different. its painful.

Kylo is moved by the fact Iris can hear Draegan in her head. Ever the lenient one. He was reaching out.

“You trust that voice?”

She nods. “I must be mad.”

“You are not mad.” He soothes. “What I am is as real as you or I, standing here right now.”

As real as the bee stings of cold rain he can feel on his cheeks. The wet stickiness of his tamped down hair. The wind on his skin. And Eversleighs blood in his throat. Tasted like warm metal and whiskey spice.

Her eyes drift back to the slumped man in the dirt on the alley floor. “Is he?” She gasps. Seeking as to his state of life.

Kylo doesn’t tarry in his answer. But he keeps his words soft. “Yes.”

For the way he assaulted her, Kylo should’ve taken his head clean off. He’s done it before.

Hearing the vile thoughts in the drunkards perverted head about all he wanted to do to her when he got her alone, it well justified Kylo’s ridding the earth of the bastard letch by ripping his neck out. He turns back, nudged the tip of his boot into the man’s head. Turns the bastards throat away so she wouldn’t have to see the gore.

When he twists back, Her gaze sticks on the harsh glare of gold that was his eyes that were usually the deepest handsome shade of russet. Such savage eyes.

A terrible thought clicks in her head like snapping bone. “All those deaths of late... the wild animal attacks. It was- you?....”

“I’m afraid so.” He answers her curious questions.

She gasps anew. “It all makes sense now. And that Wolf...” She begins. “The one with the golden eyes.” The pieces start slotting together.

He nods.

Her mind can’t make sense of this insensible thing.

She expects to wake up any minute and this be the dizzying reaches of some far off, fantastic fever dream. Scrabbling first her bedclothes as the dream fades from her imagination.

“D-Do you wish to kill me, Kylo?” She whimpers.

He looks agonised. “No. Iris.” He pleaded to her so honestly.

“No.” He croons.

“In fact if anything happened to you, it would most likely kill me.” He assures her.

Her mouth gapes again. He watches those rosebud pink lips part. There is nothing but majesty and integrity on his face. In his features.

“I hardly know what to say...” She admits.

“I didn’t intend for you to find out the nature of what I am, in such a manner as this.” He confesses.

“You were going to confide in me?” She seeks.

“Yes I was. But when I saw this stupid drunk sneak after you. I had no choice. My hands were tied upon the matter. I could not have you hurt.”

“You did it to save me.” She comments.

“Of course I did, my dove.” He explains.

“I-“ She’s so moved she can hardly form words. Questions zip and crackle around her head like a crackling roaring fire. Like splintering logs fluttering with sparks.

She’s so dazed and enchanted. She almost doesn’t hear the applause come from inside that signifies the start of the intermission.

Kylo’s voice snaps her out of the stunned haze that swims in her mind like a pool of thick dark black treacle. She can’t free her arms or legs. The thick of it is swallowing her whole. His voice manages to finally disturb her out of it.

“Iris. You need to go. Now.” He tells. Eyes flicking upwards, hearing the clamour from within of footsteps and clattering doors. Crowds are descending. They can’t he found like this.

She barely summons the energy to move. “How will you-“ She looks back at the lifeless corpse of Lord Eversleigh.

“I’ll take care of it my Dove. But you must not spare a worry for me. You must go now.” He orders gently.

She slips around the corner and walks quickly away. Quitting the scene. Kylo watches until she moves out of sight. Her blue silk skirts trail away. He watches her as she moved back into polite society.

He looks down at the corpse and the blood seeping into the dirt. His pretty gentle Dove is back into the folds of politeness and civility.

How fitting;

The beast is out here. Confined out into the filthy muck and the snow and the blood, where he belongs. Outside, banished to the shadows.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

#kylo ren #Kylo ren x oc #vampirelovestory #vampire!kylo #vampire au #adam driver #very wolves and doves #vampire #demon #ao3 fanfic #Iris vibes🕊#Draegan vibes 🥀#Lord Ren vibes 🐺#blood #violence #death #mentions of death

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adonis-koo · 5 years

Text

it’s so obvious i want you

Note: Angst, angst and even more angst, merry fucking Christmas kids. This is a Oneshot apart of my 8th!Member series. You can read it without having read the others but if you’d like to see how this hot ass mess started you can find the first Oneshot Here

Pairing: Various/Reader, Jungkook/Reader but not really?

Tags: Angst, mutual pining, miscommunication, hurt w/no comfort,

Plot: You thought for sure you could handle Jungkook being in a relationship, but now you’re not so sure.

Word count: 3161

Shifting in your seat the fact finally dawned on you, nothing could have ever prepared you for this. Even the brutal life of an idol was nothing compared to this moment that you had never been so ill equip to handle.

Most people, hell most of your friends would’ve laughed at the situation, but you couldn’t get over the hump of awkwardness or tension. It would be one thing if this was something you had constantly struggled with, but it wasn’t.

You were an extrovert out of the group, you loved talking to people and making new friends.

Anyone would’ve pegged you as charming, you just had that quality of putting people at ease. So naturally when it didn’t work on her, you knew you were in for trouble.

Her being Jungkook’s girlfriend, the word stabbed vehemently in the pit of your stomach, you had no right to feel the way you did. Sure you had a crush on him for over four years but still, it was just a crush. And he obviously never liked you back, why would he? Old wounds of self doubt began to fester again as unpleasant memories began to surface. Doing your best to swallow them back you gave a smile to Hyun, his girlfriend who sat next to him with arms hooked around his.

You never understood why she seemed so nervous around you, you were just...you, “Have fun at the gallery!” You gave a chirp, forcing another smile before quickly glancing back down at your notebook, not trusting your false happiness to hold any longer then a moment while looking at them.

Something of a mixture between envy and jealousy boiled underneath your skin, envy because you’d given anything to be Jungkook’s muse, and jealousy because you unrightfully felt like you already were before they had met. But you technically weren’t. Even if his broody stares would make you think differently it still didn’t change the fact.

It was only one time, you had been his first in bed and that was it. Was that a mistake? Should you have just confessed the morning after? You involuntarily shuddered at the idea, the thing about having sexual relations with any of your group members was the constant delicate balance of not falling into the pit of unrequited love.

That would inevitably ruin your relationship with any of them, and would eventually spiral out of control due to tension and the last thing you wanted was Bangtan to suffer because of your hormones.

Chewing your lip you closed your eyes briefly, fear had definitely been a factor in not confessing the morning after. Words had been left unsaid not only from you but from him as well and that’s why things were the way they were. But this wasn’t like Taehyung....or Jimin or- okay you know what? That was besides the point.

Anything that had descended between the other members and you was always mutually consented and while you did love them, it was never in a romantic way, the same would be said from them as well.

A lot of people would’ve assumed it would be hard to not look at them romantically while sleeping with them. But you never had that problem and neither did they, Jungkook though? You weren’t really sure, you had always just shoved your feelings into the back of your mind hoping they’d go away.

But you hadn’t fallen in love with him because of what had transpired last month in bed. No it had festered for a much longer time before that.

You already began feeling self conscious again, maybe it was for the best those words that lingered on the tip of your tongue were left unspoken. You weren’t sure you could handle rejection, you could take it, just not from him. Anyone but him.

“Thank you!” Hyun gave a nervous smile as she clung closer to Jungkook, “We will! Uh....- So what are you writing? If you don’t mind me asking!” She peered up slightly as if trying to make out the hastily written words you had strung together.

Looking down at the notebook you shrugged, not seeing the harm in telling her. It was better then the god awful silence while they waited to leave in time to catch the subway, “Well I’m working on my mixtape,” Your smile suddenly became sheepish as you glanced back down, “I’m not very good with song writing but...”

“That’s not true.”

Your lips parted as you glanced back up at Jungkook, who had stayed quiet up until this moment. His gaze focused on you, looking almost insulted at your own words as he continued, “You’ve written tons of songs,” he turned to Hyun as you furrowed your brows in confusion, “Namjoon helped cultivate her skill but all three of her songs turned into back to back MVs that made us so popular.”

Why was he boasting about you? Feeling your face turn slightly red you coughed, rubbing the back of your neck as you couldn’t help but mutter, “Actually we didn’t get popular until Wings...”

Unfortunately Jungkook had heard your words, looking vaguely annoyed as he replied, “Maybe but HYYH is one of the fan favorite eras, any ARMY would agree with me.”

Feeling like you were both fifteen again while bickering you rose an eyebrow, what was his deal? Were you never allowed to be self deprecating? Okay maybe that wasn’t the word you were looking for, humble was more along the lines of your feelings.

Yes you had begun writing for HYYH but Namjoon heavily helped and guided you during the process. Finally you replied suspiciously, “Yeah? And so was Wings.”

Too be fair Wings was your most iconic tour and the MAMA awards for it just about blew any other performances out of the water. Lots had happened during the Wings era, lots of it was unpleasant. But then again HYYH wasn’t all too pleasant for you either.

Your nose ended up wrinkling in thought, you hadn’t really been mentally sound in a long time come to think of it. Sure HYYH was when you started writing lyrics, but that was only because Namjoon guided you every step of the way. In fact, you’d go as far as giving him all the credit, he was a lyrical genius, you had only really helped with the process.

Yoongi was the other person that seemed to have hope in you as he’d let you sit in and watch him mix and make music for hours on end. The more fun out of the two in your opinion. Lyrics didn’t necessarily come easy to you, because how could you open up in a song to millions of people if you couldn’t even do it one on one, person to person?

Music though? Much easier, you just found a beat and layered it with another until something formed. Well it wasn’t that simple, it wasn’t even close to that simple but it helped to think of it like that so you wouldn’t overcomplicate the process.

Combining Namjoon and Yoongi’s cultivation and faith in you, you were technically equipped for the task of making your own mixtape. Not that you were obligated obviously, but seeing Hoseok work so hard on his gave you plenty of inspiration to work off of.

And Namjoon had just begun his next one which in turned he helped you get started on yours with basic pointers and advice.

Without realizing it you and Jungkook had been staring harshly at one another, and you felt it again. That tension between you both. Had it always been there?

No, no not even close. It use to be much more subdued when you thought back on it. Stolen glances and touches that would linger a moment longer then necessary, shared smiles and words that could’ve been took with a double meaning, or maybe you were just imagining it all...?

Noticing Hyun seemed to be tensing again you coughed before offering a wary smile as you spoke up, “Well regardless of my skill in writing I’m hoping to finish up soon. I’m on my fifth song right now, I haven’t started working on the music yet but that’s because I find it easier to work with a finished piece.”

You had begun to ramble, filling the silence. Atleast you were good at something. But still, you felt Jungkook’s intense gaze bore into you, his mouth parting occasionally as if wanting to say something only to close it again. You had almost wished he’d just spit it out.

“Oh! We’re going to be late,” Hyun looked at her phone noticing the time as she stood up pulling on Jungkook’s arm as she gave you another nervous smile, “Well it was nice talking to you Y/n! Goodbye.” She bowed slightly before dragging Jungkook off the couch. Watching him let out a silent sigh as he glanced back at you, his eyes had finally softened considerably.

His gaze would haunt you for the rest of the night as the door closed shut, leaving it to linger in nothing more then your memory.

It was filled with everything you had once hoped for but it only filled you with dread now.

It was full of want, it was the only way you could describe it. He looked like he wanted you to be the one pulling him out the door, like he wanted you to be the one holding his hand while you rambled away, like he wanted to run back to you, in that moment, had you not known any better, it looked like he wanted to confess.

But it had only been there for less then a moment before the door had shut. It had to have been your imagination right? The last thing you wanted was to get your hopes up, because at the end of the day, if he really liked you, he wouldn’t of been holding her hand, taking her out, would he?

The glimmer of hope in you chest had been stomped all the way back down to your stomach, forming a nauseating pit. Churning enough to make you close the notebook and pad all the way to Jimin’s room.

Nobody’s shoulder to cry on in Bangtan’s could rival Jimin’s. He had been buried under the covers of his bed with a book in hand, a hoody over his head and his thick rimmed glasses sticking out from there sheets. Glancing up at you as he spoke before faltering, “Y/n what are you....” frowning he set his book down as he sat up, gestured you to come lay down as the tears began to well in your eyes, “Come here.” Two words and you were home.

Collapsing into the bed you wrapped your arms around him burying your face into the crook of his neck as he scooped you up, pulling you beneath the covers as he cooed stroking your hair, “What happened? Was it her again?”

Just those words made you wrap your arms around him tightly, pressing your face against the crook of his neck in attempt to stop the tears that continued to stream. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt to see him holding her hand? To see him kissing her? To be plagued with hearing them on the other side of the wall at night?

It felt like a dagger was being twisted in your heart agonizingly slow, like it was just there to watch you be tormented. Wasn’t it obvious how much you wanted him?

That if he wanted you just as you thought he did, wouldn’t it just be easiest to be together without suffering anymore? But seeing him with her drowned out any of your desperation to cling onto some hope that maybe, just maybe Jungkook liked you too.

Your lips trembled parting to speak but your voice fell flat in refusal it let words escape, or maybe your mind just couldn’t trust your voice to form a sentence. If you admitted to how much you liked Jungkook verbally, the words, the emotions, everything would be cemented into your existence. And your life would only become even more hellish at the formal recognition of your feelings finally finalized and accepted. If you refused to speak the words you could atleast live in the denial that maybe you could get over it.

That maybe if you run from it long enough the throbbing pain in your chest would cease and maybe you’d live to see a day where it won’t hurt seeing him with someone else.

Fake it til you make it right? But those words only made your chest ache with a dull pain, what good was faking it if it never really went away?

Because it wasn’t going to? Was it? Jimin only gave a gentle hush as he continued to stroke your hair, coddling you close as you continued to cry. He was shield and sword, nobody would have run faster to your defense then Jimin. You weren’t the only one who struggled so severely during Wings.

Dare you say he had it even worse, but what hell you both endured you had endured it together, there was no one on this planet that could make you feel better the way Jimin could. So you focused on his warmth and slow heartbeat to ground you from the terrible, inevitable heartbreak you’d never admit to experiencing.

---

You had been too mopey, and it was showing. Usually you’d be down and out for a few hours maybe a day before you’d bounce back, never wanting to be stuck in such a useless negative cycle. Because you had learned hands on that when you got in a cycle of negativity it was like a web, the more you struggled the more difficult it became to get free.

Finishing up a long recording session it was nearing twelve at night and you had found yourself wedged between your elders. When in doubt you could always go to them for comfort. Hoseok being one of the more touchy feely members happily had his arms wrapped around you, coddling you against his chest though his attention was focused on the movie that played.

Yoongi was not so hands on as the other members, but he was a sucker for lounging when he had a rare free moment. His head had been laying on your lap, or what he could get of it atleast since your feet had been tucked beneath you, making your lap a little less accessible.

But he was a determined guy none the less, his hands laid sprawled across your thighs lazily and his eyes had been shut for well over a half an hour. You weakly smiled down at his figure, nobody could love sleeping as much as him. But then again you’d like to imagine it was because he could never get enough due to working himself so hard. Looking back up you had involuntarily froze again.

Was it really necessary to bring her to the dorms so much? It was great that Jungkook wanted all of the most important people in his life together but- another pang throbbed in your chest as you glanced back down towards the floor.

What you’d give to be in her position right now, coddled up in his lap hugging against him. Noticing you beginning to shift up Hoseok had let you out of his grasp as you maneuvered Yoongi’s head onto the couch. Hoseok frowned upon seeing your tired, and admittedly drained expression.

You knew they were getting worried but what could you do? You couldn’t just admit it, because if you admitted it, then you’d have to talk about it. And that was the last thing you wanted to do right now.

Abruptly standing as you became free of the cuddle cluster, “I’m gonna try and get some sleep, night guys.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together watching you barely acknowledge everyone before promptly walking away. You looked so tired, it was beginning to worry him...

Because even if you had never gotten much sleep to begin with, you never had dark circles under your eyes like you did now. You had even began to stumble during their rehearsals for choreography due to fatigue. And as one of the lead dancers yourself, one that was like a ball of energy it was highly uncharacteristic.

Jungkook felt a dull ache in his chest, wishing he could follow after you, not like he could do anything to relieve whatever you were going through, but he wanted to try regardless.

Anything to see the way your eyes always lit up when you smiled, but now he hasn’t seen either of those things. Atleast genuinely. Sighing he shifted, remembering his girlfriend who was on top of him.

What had he gotten himself into? Jungkook was positive he’d be able to forget you, the intoxicating feel of your touch, the way that smirk coiled onto your lips anytime you were being cheeky with him.

He thought for sure he could forget it with time. And someone like Hyun would make him forget that he ever even liked you in the first place. Except it wasn’t working, in fact, it was only making him want you that much more. He did like Hyun, just not romantically. Not like the way he knew for sure he felt for you.

She was such a sweetheart, she really did deserved someone better then him. Someone who could fully love her, and Jungkook just couldn’t do that.

He had attempted to bring it up of course, unable to live with the guilt of stringing her along, but Hyun said that it was fine and she was more then patient to wait. But someone couldn’t wait forever could they? More so Jungkook wasn’t sure if he wanted her too.

He let out a silent sigh, his gaze lingering in the direction you had disappeared, you had barely even looked in his direction. He knew you didn’t like him romantically, and you made it clear the morning after you had both slept together when Seokjin confronted you about it. But did you have to be so cold? You had barely even acknowledged his presence all week long.

Had he did something wrong? He had tried asking you about it but you only dismissed him, in result pushing him away. A nasty habit of yours that he had hoped you would’ve grown out of by now, but sometimes under stress he figured people just fell back into old habits. You were no exception apparently.

Still, it hurt being pushed away when he wanted nothing more then to hold you close. To tell you whatever you were going through that you’d be okay. He was surprised you were so blind for someone so perceptive.

Wasn’t it obvious how much he wanted you?

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amanwithoutpurpose · 5 years

Text

Mental health in males.

Mental health in males is something I feel is strongly being misrepresented and misunderstood by society, and a major contributing factor to this post.

Let’s just start with the “modern” understanding of it, and a few quotes I hear fairly often;

“He’s putting too much pressure on himself”

“He needs to let people in”

“He won’t talk to us”

“It’s all in your head”

“He needs to get help”

“Ugh, he’s only being like this because it’s fashionable”

“It’s not even real”

As you can see,(based purely off of my own experiences) while society as a whole are more aware of people’s struggles with mental health issues, we have become far less able to handle those struggling with mental health with the correct care the require. Especially males.

Male suicides do now, and have done since the 90’s, account for over 3 quarters of all suicides every year in the UK.

So if as a society we’ve become more “woke”, why hasn’t this statistic changed in over 30 years?

Lets touch on the subject of how mental health is currently viewed. The medical understanding of mental health issues and how to deal with them, while advancing in the pharmaceutical sense, has massively back pedalled when it comes to the care and attention required to approach these subjects. Everything seems to be a very rushed, clinical to the point of excess, process, which if you aren’t interested in medicating (which a lot of guys aren’t), then the UK medical profession struggles to handle you. *I remember broaching my mental health issues with my Dr, to be told that they will not be offering a talking therapy if I do not atleast try the medication. I was astounded! I’m fully aware of why my mental health is as it is (as are many others) and I don’t think medicating myself to the point of emotional numbness is the way to truly battle the problems I have. I made this very clear, yet was still forced to accept a course of Citalopram. This illustrates to me a distinct lack of understanding. If you’re reading this as a medical professional, please, if a male comes into your surgery, and wants to talk about mental health , then do just that. Talk with him, make him feel like what he’s saying is heard, and matters.

Men spend so much time, being devalued at work, trying to be a stabilising presence in their home lives, trying to provide, trying to keep up friendships, maintain relationships, be the success’ they’re meant to be.... I could go on about all the modern pressures men face, but you get the idea. And yes I know women face the same pressures, however this clearly isn’t effecting women in the same way.

Even though the years have moved on, our attitudes towards “what make a man” really haven’t followed suit, atleast definitely not at the same rate. Women are far more accepting and understanding of other women, yet are very quick to tell a male to “man up”. And men do exactly the same to each other. Leaving a modern male no safe haven from this pressure of being the “man” society says they have to be.

List of qualities a “Man” should have (according to modern society) :-

-provider

-strong body

- unwavering mind

- few words to speak

- financially stable (minimum requirement)

- to be on a path to a great career or own business

- protector

- friend

- trustworthy

- Extensive knowledge of any DIY or manual task.

- fearless

- bold and brave

- Sensitive ( but not too sensitive)

- funny

- intelligent

These are all potentially damaging standards to live by as a lot of them limit each other or just down right conflict. These very standards have lead to a generation of males with brains so conflicted, they can’t even face some of the unimaginable things they’ve done just to try and uphold these standards.

This is why more** care needs to be taken when dealing with a male suffering with mental health issues. Listen to him, let him know his thoughts, feelings and fears are all real to him and important to you. Remember them and be mindful of them. Take the time to question what is making them feel like this? Is this out of their character? If so then ask them to talk a little more, help you to understand the things you don’t. I promise anyone reading this, that if you do that, you’ll quickly see all of his walls come down.

All anybody, male or female wants, is to be understood, to feel like they matter, to feel like somebody cares enough about them to remember the things they’ve said. Everyone just wants to feel loved, and those suffering with mental health issues should always be treated with love and understanding.

I hope whoever needs to see this, does. I hope I’m able to open just one persons eyes.

Always know showing your love will never be u welcome.

*based solely on my own experiences

** than is currently being taken

#personal #mental health #mental disorder #mens mental health #rant #sorry for the rant #poets on tumblr #mentalwarfare #psychology #society #writing #help #deep thoughts

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asagimeta · 6 years

Text

The Weirdness Of "Girl Trouble"

So I've talked probably atleast two or three times in depth about the worst episode of Hey Arnold ever- "Curly's Girl", wich is like a How To guide on rape culture- but I had sort of forgotten about "Girl Trouble" until rewatching it just now and it's... oddly almost as bad- now don't get me wrong, there are actually a couple of qualities about "Girl Trouble" that I like and it isn't quite stomach-churning like "Curly's Girl" is but it also displays some pretty hefty messages about abuse.... in the wrong way

Hey Arnold! has a very weird dichotomy in terms of toxic relationships in that it either portrays them almost FLAWLESSLY- think Helga and her parents- or just about as nightmarishly as you can imagine- think Curly and his "relationship" with Rhonda- and as much credit- as much real, TRUE credit- as I give to them for complete GEMS like the Patacki family or Ernie and his one-off model girlfreind, I also can't help but see the toxic relationships that flood the show

The good thing is that alot of them are occassionally addressed- Susie leaves Oskar at one point and is constantly calling him out on being a bum, Pheobe has several episodes where she either calls out Helga on what an abusive person she is or leaves her (be it as an intentional break in their relationship or not), and the bullies in the show are atleast usually given what's coming to them- but these things, like almost everything in HA!'s continuity, never stick around past an episode or two, Susie sticks around, Pheobe goes back, the bullies learn for the length of a half-episode but it never makes a lasting impact, and in a way I can excuse it because the issues DO atleast present themselves properly and he only reason I believe the changes don't stick for good are because HA! tries to have a very fluid continuity where you don't necessarily need to have seen episode three to see episode four, with the exception of some charectors coming (Lila, Mr. Simmons, Lorenzo) or going (Ruth, Torvald, the teacher before Mr. Simmons who's name I forget..) and HA! also typically tries to stick it's charectors to their archetypes, wich they overcome episodically (Rhonda learns not to care so much about her appearance and/or wealth/status in atleast three or four different episodes, because she's The Rich Spoiled Girl, Harold is always portrayed as The Dumb Bully no matter how many times he's shown to actually be very sensitive and- when he puts his mind to it- pretty smart, etc) So TL;DR I can forgive HA! for not keeping the changes it makes because the format of the show may not have worked as well- especially for the target audience and especially in the time period- if the charectors had had linear development, if Oskar and Susie had gotten that divorce, if Phoebe had decided to break things with Helga for good (or if Helga stopped treating her like a sidekick) if Rhonda stopped being spoiled, etc, we know from shows that DO develop their charectors episode to episode like As Told By Ginger that it's usually an older audience who gets attached, not grade schoolers, but I digress

The problem I really have is that "Girl Trouble", just like "Curly's Girl", simply sends a terrible message: If someone is abusing you it means they like you, so sit down and take it and whatever you do, DON'T fight back or you'll be the bad guy

Helga and Arnold's relationship defies stereotypical gender roles by making Helga the aggressor/abuser and Arnold the passive victim, but it's still a highly abusive relationship, and I think that fact gets really, really lost on people- especially the HA! writers- when it comes to episodes like "Girl Trouble"

Basically, Helga is acting especially cruel to Arnold and Grandpa advises him not to retaliate because "You'll have to be dealing with this girl for a very long time, it's best to make peace with it" and tells a story about how a girl in his school was just as mean to him (fondly, wile laughing) who we later learn is actually his wife Gerty, Arnold can't stand to take the advice, however, and after Helga throws paint on him, he throws paint back at her, Arnold is immediately given detention but Helga has no consequences for that /or/ for the cruel prank she had pulled the day before (covering Arnold's backside in glue and feathers) and when he gets home and explains what happened Grandpa freaks out and admonishes him about not fighting back- AGAIN, Arnold stews and Helga laments over the fact that her sweet, pure Arnold had finally been "pushed over the edge" due to her cruelty, but when Arnold calls and apologizes she's just as mean as ever and that's the "resolution"

Typically during episodes like this there's some ACTUAL resolution, a good example being "Pheobe Breaks A Leg" when Pheobe finally has a heart-to-heart about how abused she feels with Helga, Helga seems sincere in not wanting to hurt her anymore and promises to do better, even though the last shot is back to the same old dichotomy of Helga bossing Pheobe around, there was atleast a very honest realization on Helga's part that she was doing something wrong and Pheobe had the chance to confront her, but that isn't the case here

Here, we see nothing but a victim being told multiple times to learn to live with the fact that his abuser is going to be around for ages and he needs to get used to it, punished when he acts out back at her, and then tossed immediately back into the Toxic Tornado when HE apologizes to HER and is verbally put down, insulted, and screamed at again

Now, to be clear, before I go any further, I LIKE Arnold and Helga, I ship them and HAVE shipped them since the beginning.... but I ship them in a HEALTHY relationship where they're a little older and Helga has made more progress with her mental health and Arnold has started standing up to himself and not allowing her to bully him so much

There's actually an episode that I freaking ADORE about their relationship- "April Fool's Day", wich consists of a prank war between them, it isn't mean-spirited, just competitive, and at the end there are no hurt feelings or punished parties, just two kids having fun together, Arnold decides to best Helga however he can- wile, again, not being mean-spirited, just competitive- and doesn't let her bullying tactics push him around or scare him off

"Girl Trouble" is a serious problem because it perpetuates that the only abuse is male -> female, not so much in the storyline that Helga is being abusive to Arnold and he's not fighting back- that's pretty typical of HA!- but because of the actions *around* Helga and Arnold, namely: Arnold is punished for fighting back and Helga isn't, Helga having a breif moment of realization that she may have gone too far but not even coming CLOSE to admitting that (we know Helga is capable of being nice to Arnold when the circumstances are really serious, "Parents Day" being a good example) and worst of all, Grandpa repeatedly telling Arnold that he not only would have to deal with the abuse "for years to come", but that he should never, under any circumstances, defend himself, what is that saying to young boys who are suffering from something similar?

I just can't really understand- much like "Curly's Girl"- how the writers looked at the end outcome and went "Yeah, this is a reasonable message to send", in particular because Arnold broke their usual dichotomy for once, and they couldn't hide behind "Helga is aggressive and Arnold is passive, Arnold is the bigger person" like they usually can, that was the entire POINT

Wile I COMPLETELY agree that there should have been a message of "Be the better person and don't engage with a bully", there ALSO shouldn't have been such a heavy handed message of "Your abuser is going to be in your life for years and there's nothing you can do about it, and in fact, you'll probably fall in love with them!", and Helga's actions being flat-out romanticized is deeply troubling

A much better way to handle it is to keep things the same up until Arnold gets detention; give him and Helga BOTH detention (Gerald can testify that Helga tossed paint on Arnold first) and let them have detention together, maybe add a throw-away line about Helga having gotten detention for her prank the day before, and let the rest of the episode take place there, at first Arnold and Helga won't speak to eachother, but Helga makes a casual comment about Big Bob going through the roof over her having detention again- if he notices, that is, and how he'll just compare her to Olga again, Arnold says that she brought detention on herself this time and they argue until Helga says something about always bullying people because "How ELSE are you supposed to deal with them all the time?" and Arnold simmers down and makes a gentle, slightly vague comment about how you're supposed to treat people and then another apologizing for what she has to go through at home, a simple "I'm sorry they make you feel that way" or something would suffice, wich brings Helga to apologize for tormenting Arnold over the last couple of days (in her crass Helga way) and they sit in silence for a few minutes before detention is finally over and they can leave, at wich point Helga makes a very small comment concerning deciding to give Arnold something of a break from now on

The next day she's shown throwing spitballs at him or something and when he makes a face she winks and lets him borrow one of her books, or something like that

Just something like that, something that could possibly show that just because the attacker is female that doesn't give them a free pass, and to not push such abuse as a "funny love story" the way they did with Grandpa and Grandma

#kid's shows #Hey Arnold!#Girl Trouble

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whenthespotlightfades · 7 years

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The Problems with Malec

I decided to make a post solely about the problems Magnus and Alec have in the show that makes them not work as well as they could. Why? Not because I love complaining, but because it’s so important everyone is aware of what is going on. And sadly, what is going on simply isn’t all roses and justified. So let me explain what it is that is making this couple and these two characters not come to their full potential:

1. Lack of storyline

Both Magnus and Alec are currently suffering from a “What the hell do we do with these characters”. Unlike the core three, there isn’t much book material to go on. Which means the team behind shadowhunters has to come up with a storyline themselves, and apparently that is really hard to do. Or well, I should say, it’s hard to do properly. Alec doesn’t really have a storyline of his own this season. Almost everything he does is playing second fidel to someone else’s storyline. He’s either attached to Jace’s his storyline, to Izzy’s storyline or even to Luke’s storyline. But he doesn’t have one of his own. Malec is not his own storyline. You could say him being the head of the Institute is his storyline, but he didn’t get the position as a result of his storyline, he didn’t even get it because he had earned it. And with his new position he hasn’t done anything that didn’t have ties to other things. It’s been connected to Luke’s storyline in which he tried to kill Valentine, and sabotaging Sebastian’s plan. The new role also restricts Alec as a character from having his own storyline or even being involved in other people their storyline. Even Matthew admitted to this. For Alec’s well being as a developing character he shouldn’t be a head for long. Not that he is doing a good job at it, since for the sake of “equality” he spents his nights with Magnus at his home. Which is totally in character, and totally normal to do when you have just been appointed.

Magnus has his own storyline one would argue. He is dealing with his past and trying to find some sort of balance between being a warlock and dating Alec. But how much have we seen from that storyline that was actually good storytelling. Everything we saw in S2A was always in connection to someone else and now in S2B Simon his heartbreak get the priority of good proper screentime over a character with severe childhood traumas. In what universe does that even make sense? Yes Simon his heartbreak is understandable, but why introduce such a heavy topic as childhood trauma only to treat it like a secondary issue with a screentime of less than 8 minutes combined with flashback scenes and the “i’m fine moments”. Though mind you this is not the first time the show has taken a very serious topic only to treat it with the least amount of care in the world, remember Alec’s suicide attempt and the promise we would get back to that since it’s so important. I haven’t seen it anywhere, have you?

2. Lack of screentime

If you’re not a malec fan or simply don’t care enough about them to want equality for them, the go to comment is; “this show is not about Malec”. Granted you got me there. But that doesn’t justify the lack of screentime. Now Todd has planned himself in the corner that tough choices have to be made:

They only have so much minutes bla bla bla, BULLSHIT. Todd simply has different priorities. Every ep in S2B has started with “My name Clary Fray”-

Let’s be real, that is atleast a good minute of airtime that gets spend on shit the episode doesn’t need. Not to even mention the unneccessary scenes, such as Jace making out with Kaelie in the bed half naked (precious golden scene? Sure Jan). He can’t say he believes screentime should go to Clary, Simon and Jace even if the episode could easily miss the scene since it adds nothing, so the answer is even golden scenes have to be cut. Don’t get mad please, it’s a hard job.... Ehum NO, it really really isn’t. It’s about pacing, which sucks in this show, it’s about priorities which in this show don’t focus on Magnus, Alec, Luke or the rest. It’s about not adding more characters to an all ready full show. They make the weirdest choices when it comes to malec, the scenes are short even when the moments are important, because everything else is apparently more important, hey not my words anymore, they are officially Todd’s now.

3. The equality issue

I guess this is more personal. As a proud member of the lgbtq community, to me equality is absolute. I know what shows look like that give it to their viewers and thus i know Shadowhunters isn’t one of these shows. Arguments like “but they have more than in the bookserie, so stop talking”, are annoying as hell and not even correct. (Which you can read here) Arguments like “this isn’t the malec show” are fucking rude. Equality has nothing to do with turning Shadowhunters into the Malec show. If you believe this to be case, then you are not an ally and are (sub)conciously homophobic. Some lgbtq+ people even believe this to be true and honey, sorry to tell you but that is some internalised homophobia you’ve got going on there. Equality simply means an equal treatment. Not give them 50% of the show’s time and Clace the other 50% cause well, there is also Izzy, Simon, Luke and Maia. This is not about some weird ass division of time. It’s about the Quality of the time they getting and the imbalance compared to the heterosexual pairings.

The fade into black from 2x07 was homophobic as fuck. Malec not getting their first time shown, no intimate scenes. No real, well-written conversations. All of that adds up to this unequal treatment the couple gets, I’m not counting the stray scene they actual do right like the balcony scene in 1x06. Why does Magnus love Alec? I don’t know. Why do I not know this? Because the show never bothered to explain it to me, to show it to me. Why does Alec love Magnus? I don’t know. Because he was the first guy to notice him, but surely there is more to it. I’m just not sure what that more is. Why? They don’t bother to show me. It is these small things that make the show fail epicly when it comes to Malec. Most of the fandom is happy when they get one minute, because we have successfully been brainwashed into thinking that is what this couple deserves and that this is what we should be grateful for. Everyone is over the moon with the morning scene in 2x15 in spite of the body language that shows discomfort, in spite of the OOC behaviour of Alec; this is not something the new head of the institute should do and definitely Alec, sorry. They are catering to you, with the bare minimum because well, you will accept it, praise it, maybe complain but hey we’ll watch again next week, cause TODD keeps making promises it will be better. Will it though? No really? Cause if you keep watching, you keep defending the show, you keep having a whiplash from going between “OMG I CAN’T EVEN” to “WHAT IS THIS SHIT” why do they have to change how they treat Malec. Equality is a serious issue, but an issue this show doesn’t take seriously. And apart from a tweet, nothing indicates this will change in the future.

4. Lies from TPTB

If there is one thing I’m not fond of it’s lying Showrunners and boy does Todd have a track record in that. Just have a look at the first round of interviews they did. Remember how they agreed with the fandom that Malec went too fast in S1, that they needed to pull it back, because why the hell did they even like each other...... Well here we are Ep 15 and they’ve had sex and we’ve had an I love you, three even. If anything the new showrunners are going even faster. Much of what they promised to do with Malec, flew out of the window somehow the moment they started writing. Why? God knows why, I guess. Some people think they want to establish the couple as fast a possible, so as little as possible screentime has to be spent on them and they can still say, but hey look at this couple and the progressiveness, they are the OTP of this show, never will they break up. Stop complaining about the screentime and just appreciate that they are still together and going strong, here have another I love you, now shut up. I’m not part of that team, but I also don’t see enough evidence suggesting they are completely off. In fact the willingness of the team to have Malec adopt Madzie actually proves these fans might have a point. If only the lies had stopped there, but then there was the MalecMania. Oh Boy was the fandom hyped and with good reasons and Oh Boy was it a big let down to the point the fandom roared with anger. Then he promised he would work on it, this was during the filming of 2x13/2x14. Not all scripts had been written yet and they definitely weren’t filmed yet.

So why is he tweeting that he’s working on it now not three weeks ago. Don’t you mean you worked on it, keep a look out for this improvement? That is what you promised in the first place. But now this promise seems to have been moved to S3. And when S3A doesn’t deliver will he move the promise to S3B? He is a master at baiting the fans with Malec and for some reason the fans seem to not comprehend that they are being baited. So he can problably move it forever and nobody would object, cause he promises too change people! Give the show the benefit of the doubt.... Okay? But seriously for how long?! And how many lies does he have to tell before he loose his credibility. Mind you a lot of tweets ended up being deleted from his timeline as well, things spoken without thought and no intention to realise these comments.

What needs to change in my opinion?

First of All, Malec needs to take a step back. Breath, take things slow. Realise they know very little about each other and that they are going way too fast. Alec needs to give his position to someone else, I love Alec as the head of institute, but I don’t want him to be restricted by it. He can always earn it fairly around S7. I personally think Alec would prefer that too. That he is the head of the institute or hell even inquistitor because he was chosen to be by his people, not by Jace because the latter isn’t one for following the rules. Show us just how special and good Alec is, don’t have others tell us. Cause you haven’t shown Alec to be a great leader, you’ve shown the exact opposite before appointing him this position. Even Alec has his doubts, which he really shouldn’t have if he was sure of his position.

Magnus needs a different role. Whatever he is currently, it’s not working as it give the character very little meat and no connection to the rest of the characters, thus isolating him. Especially if his current problems/storylines are treated as secondary. The show needs to address serious issues with the gentle care they deserve instead of using them for drama plotdevices. Alec’s suicide was a big thing, but thrown aside just as easily. Magnus his traumas are also pushed aside somewhat for storylines that require less screentime and care but are given double of it. Even Izzy who tried to kill her brother hasn’t really dealt with what drove her. The show touches on a lot of things with the other characters only to never really expand on it, for the sake of drama. And it needs to stop doing that.

The show needs to start showing things instead of telling me things. I don’t want to hear Izzy went to meetings, I want to see her there, so I can hear why she felt the need to take Yin Fen and I can see her struggle.The same goes for Alec and Magnus, a lot is told but never shown. I’m tired of hearing about it, I want to see it. If I have to see every single thing about Clary, Simon and Jace, why can I not see these important moments from the other main characters. Especially if they are so linked to the storylines they are suppossedly telling us.

The last comment also would increase the quality of their storylines, and thus create a more equal feel to it. But Equality needs to happen. For a show that won the Glaad award, it saddens me to say, they did not deserve it. Compared to their competition the show underdelivers and I think the show should become one worthy of that award.

#malec #i'm just tired of watching the potential get ruined really

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agirlandherwordsblog-blog · 7 years

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notes to self

first off: i'm not trying to be dramatic. i still apologize for bumping into people in the streets after years of being ran into by hoards of people who couldn't care less. i still feel like i'm asking for too much when i want a response. when i ask for comfort and am met with resentment i still feel guilt for even asking. i still pull on an old skin when i talk to my parents because they like that version of me better. no one seems to know what to do with this new me, this me that is kicking and screaming and demanding a voice. the half-formed mirror of mine that is on air one day and glass the next. no one seems to know how to respond when i say things honestly. the silences between my truths keep me up at night. my pillows have been mocking me since june. i thought they would stop when i left you. they didn't. secondly: i'm not trying to be a pain. i ask for love in simple ways and get told i ask for too much. my reflection makes me angry because in it i see a girl in the middle school bathroom looking at herself for the first time in years. looking at herself the way she watches other people do it. taking photos of themselves and not thinking twice, not obsessing, not pulling yourself away to let the anger and guilt seep out of your pores into the tile through the drains into the dirt. i apologize for everything i have ever done. i am ruthless to myself, my history teacher told us once of monks who would go through towns whipping themselves for their sins and we all laugh but now i wonder if that's what we all do. my anger with myself for my not-enoughness, my too-muchness is overwhelming. being with myself makes me twitchy. my body has never been mine. it has belonged to my parent's sharp tongues and boys who didn't know my name and were rough enough to leave marks. the one time i heard my own voice at sixteen a boy wrote a poem about it and i realized that they like you when they watch you shrink yourself. you can have your redeeming qualities, but only when they're convenient. i'm twenty when i realize how much they resent you when your redemption is louder than your suffering. thirdly: i'm not trying to be loud. i have held my silence as a badge of honor. i have taken "nice" as the holy grail of compliments. i have ran from places where the dislike for me was palatable- or, atleast, i thought it was. i visit these places years later to open arms. it makes my head spin, all of it. i have never seen myself as lovable. i was never loud enough as a kid and then when i learned to be loud i was told to shut up. i still shrink myself down by throwing in my sadness when my joy gets too much. i tell people, i'm still sad, don't worry as if my happiness was really the problem with the conversation. most days the problem is me, not them. me, not them. i am realizing that i can't pick up one book about the universe and call myself cured. i can't ignore the ugly that brought me here, threw me on the ground, left me here to die. i can't ignore the ugly that made seven year old me pray every night that i wouldn't die in my sleep, or be hit by a car, or be struck by cancer. i can't ignore it. it's here and screaming and i can't drown it out with all the self help in the world. lastly: i don't know how to embrace the ugly. literally. metaphorically. i scrub my life pure of thoughts that make me squirm. i can't sit with them, no way, i let them fester and grow and become much larger than i ever intended. i let them form fog in front of my brain. i can't see through it and i just kind of shrug and say, that's the way it is now. i want light so desperately that i've been ignoring the dark. i forget that the light is only light because we know what dark is. sunrises are beautiful because they come out of nothing. i can't ignore the ugly and expect beauty. i can't cross out the yin in my yang. i can't throw an affirmation over my crippling anxiety and shaking fingers and the feeling of my gut on fire wondering how i'll afford this life of mine. i can't smile with a broken heart anymore. i can't fake it. i need to embrace the ugly even if writing it feels like punching myself in the face. i'd rather walk straight into a hurricane and make it out in pieces than live through storms every day. i'd rather feel light one day a week than suffer through overcast seven days in a row. maybe this is progress. maybe this is acceptance, or insanity, or loving myself, or hating myself into oblivion. maybe the ugly is the way for the beautiful to settle in. maybe i have to clear space for it, pat the space next to me, and say there's space for you here. come talk to me.

#my words #my writing #my art #writers on tumblr #writing community #writerscorner #healing #poetry #poets on tumblr #poetic #new poets community #poets corner #breakup quotes

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perfectionistincrisis · 7 years

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Day 56 - 62

This has been a hard one. So you know how Ramadan is the month you fast and al and your supposed to strengthen your spirituality and all. Well Ramadan went well Alhamdulillah but it is more like all these things happened to me this one week more compared to during Ramadan.

So I started walking on the treadmill. I planned on 2 hours a day but ended up doing one hour everyday. Well when i decided on 2hrs it was what i ‘preferred’. 1hr, duh, is the ‘minimum’ and more than 2 hours is highly appreciable but im still proud i could at least do the bare minimum this week yay! well proud is exaggeration tbh, im just not panicking and depressed because I maintained the bare minimum but im not like ‘happy’ or impressed cause I dont see any progress. But then again, the way i define ‘progress’ is kind of too high standard as always so yeah I am kind of harsh on myself ‘as always’ again so maybe I am kinda doing okay i guess. well but bottom line, im not really ‘impressed’.

Aha ok so theres that. then um oh! me catching cold after coming from Makkah, Well in the beginning i was sooooo tired for a day or two like i couldnt function at all. But then yeah all the classic symptoms started to arise. coughing, sneezing, throat irritation, blocked nose, runny nose, greenish sputum, difficulty breathing. Oh God, you name it! so I have been on medication for a week now and I have to continue for another 1 week. And its just not going away yet. like its there, constant! except for just last night when my throat wasnt itching much and luckily i could sleep like a babyyyyyyyyy for a change after a week. Oh so this whole week I used to go to bed around 12 to 1 or at 2 latest! Now whether I could fall asleep is a different story. Well most of the nights I did try to fall asleep like till fajr and i could like sleep for an hour or 2 max and then I would just wake up from coughing so much. and then Id just lie down till fajr and then get up and pray and then go to bed. 2 of the mornings I worked out after fajr and then took a shower and then slept around 7 in the morning.

during the day, well i wake up always keeping in mind that I should not miss zuhr so lol that mean i kinda wake up usually around 2pm or even later sometimes. Since im talking about the entire week, this is like what i did majority of the days. Some days i woke up earlier though. but maybe thats like a day or 2 out of 7. So its so hot during the day, like you dont even need to ‘move’ and youll already be sweating! I totally hate it and I have never been that tired of any weather ugh. Like I totally love winter now. not cause idk its fun or something but like i hate summer so muchhhhhhh that yeah i can basically go like i love winter

Ok so the week kinda started with me being kind of tired mentally. parents were in the middle of a huge argument so yeah the whole atmosphere in the house was kinda blue and then I started eating so less and then starting with the treadmill and all and well it was just a bit tough to move from a phase to another. I wasnt having negative vibes and all but i just wished for more from life. I mean sometimes it is kind of too much to take. I get all the stuff about life not supposed to be perfect and how it is just temporary and how we should not get attached to worldly things. Yes all of that is cool and i get it but then when you are actually experiencing those ‘downs’ in life, youre obviously not going to be ‘okay’ with it and ofcourse youll wish things were better or youd just feel mentally drained out - despite knowing the entire “concept” of life -

So yeah thats the phase I was in for a few days and then after a lot of thinking how I suddenly got out of the phase was when I was thinking about how every single person is subjected to life is a completely different way. Like you can never compare. You might think your life is horrible and so much shit has happened to you and everything and maybe someone else who never had to face anything similiar to the ‘shit’ you went through. Well maybe they had to experience something else. Something you are too blessed to even be aware of. What I am trying to say is how sometimes we wish for things is life and other people have it, that what you want. Or maybe they dont have what you want, but then in general it seems like there life seems ‘happier’ than yours. Well I dont really think it is true anymore. I kind of think everyone goes through almost an equal share of good and bad. and how do we define what is ‘good’ and what is ‘bad’? Well we just cant tbh. Because what might seem good to me and I would wish for could be something someone has and feels cursed with. I mean its all about perceptions. So someone maybe suffering in their own way but you are not just seeing it. Basically the point is,

We should always be thankful, be patient and keep breathing. We should be aware of how our life is not going to be a compilation of scenes you get to watch in movies or be picture perfect. And we also need to protect ourselves from getting attached to anything or anyone so much! We need to be okay with letting go of things or people if we ever have to! And we also need to know that every single person out there ~ Everyone’s life is perfectly imperfect. Yes, of course I cant really disagree to how some people might seem to have better lives but then again, all the hardships you go through, you are being tested and you are being rewarded for them so at the end of the day it all balances off.

So I was kind of really bored with life in general and also my days were boring too. Well theyre still pretty much boring but like i was also bored of life. Then I started thinking of certain people who are having more boring lives than mine, and who dont even have the blessings I am gifted with. And everything started to just get more acceptable. And then I started thinking of my brother. I mean its so cool he is going to move to Canada in like less than 2 months inshaAllah and all. I am really happy for him and wish nothing but the best of the best for him and all but but but.. I mean just think of it. At first I was thinking of my some of the people Ik who arent really in a pretty place maybe because of financial reasons. Then there were people that came to my mind who arent in a pretty place because of just family reasons. And then ones who are just simply having to work a bit harder and so theyre not at a pretty place. Some who are away from friends, family because of life. So yeah. then I started thinking of my brother. I mean he is going to move soon and he will be living in a dorm and I mean he will be in Canada in one of the top 5 universities in the country and he has a scholarship. MashAllah that all sounds so great. Something Id want too but but but. then i started thinking of life in general. I mean he will be living on his own. He doesnt have to cook though, he has subscribed to a meal plan so he doesnt have to worry about preparing his food. but like living alone in his dorm room. I mean coming home every day to his room. Well cool thing though he wont be sharing a room with anyone and he will have his own toilet and stuff but then again, i mean he will be alone. Im not saying that an alternate scenario could be one where hed come home to his family and woah everyone would be partying and laughing and smiling and all. I mean even when he is at home right now he is like always in front of his computer busy with his own stuff and all but like idk Id still prefer coming home and having some other humans who are family. Atleast once in a while you know. or maybe its just me. but then still, i mean uni and studies are stressful enough, id just want to see people i love around! And yeah that is one of the main reasons why I didnt finally decide to study abroad right after high school!

So yeah then I started realizing that there are so many ways I already am blessed. Even on every one of my ‘boring’ days, there are blessings i am encountering which many people arent getting even on their normal days. Yeah that kind of cheered me up!

So this week, more like this month or like the entire 2 months will be about my bro lol. I mean theres a lot of shopping to do. like clothes, toilet stuff, laundry stuff, bed, pillow, shoe, laptop, tootpaste, mug, spoon and what not. literally everything. I mean its actually fun. Like you go to a shop and literally anything you touch, is something in the shopping list for him!! i mean normally somethings are like just too basic, youd never in years touch them in a shop cause like you have it, its there!!! but for him, have to get everything since he will start from scratch!

Ok so now about myself! Well like i said, the week started pretty rough because of the whole change in phase. parents fighting, me not eating much considering how food is one of the means by which i look for comfort, and then life just being boring in general and then how getting on the treadmill is such a pain in the ass in the first place and not to mention the extremely hot temperature these days and then you dont really see any difference. I mean duh. DUHHHHH howd i even be thinking to see any difference? I mean i KNOWWW its too soon for any difference but like all these staying patient emotionally, mentally about so many different aspects in life..It all can get pretty heavy sometimes!!!! Oh and then its like i really really really love myself. Like a LOT LOT. now like i said, once you already love someone, I mean, well, to fall in love ofcourse the person needs to have good qualities most of the time but then like once you already love someone, you love them despite their imperfections. Well, thats how you love ‘another person’. but when you love yourself. Forget qualities!!! you love yourself regardless lol! Where I am getting with this is!!! I mean right now, i really am not AT ALL happy with my body, like not. at . ALL. Infact I have never been this unhappy about my body ever in my life. And also I kind of feel really dumb. Like wow, Alhamdulillah whatever I did in my exams and all, i am thankful for that but like as a person in general. I really dont feel smart enough plus I literally dont remember anything i studied. like i actually wonder how tf did are they just not there in my head anymore. Like i definitely did study them or else i wouldnt pass my exams so now where the hellllll did all that go awaaayyyyy whatttttttttt

yeah so 4th year basically you need to know your shit. like you actually need to know what they taught you in the last 3 years. like youre actually be walking with doctors and interacting with them one on one. its not going to be like the last 3 years where like it doesnt really matter whether you are alive or dead, asleep or awake. like you just make sure you have your name signed. so theres the attendance part covered. and you make sure you finish every lecture and to do that you have time till before you enter the “exam code” on your laptop and start the exam!!!! You see, now! you actually need to know shit, you actually need to go see patients with the doctors and even without the doctors, you need to go to patients, and take history from them which TADAAA will be in arabic. oh wow!! So yeah if you dont know arabic you need a friend/ translator! yeah and then you need to tell your history to your doctor in english thank god lol :p but like yeah, and you ll be in small groups of 6 - 10 with a doctor and like he might bring up a disease he wants to discuss and SURE af it wont be something they found out about 2 minutes ago. ofcourse it will be something we are expected to have covered in the last 3 years or uni and you cant just go like. OH I never heard about it!!!! Idk what it is!!! Ok lol i guess im freaking out now.

Anyways so what i was saying. yeah so not happy with my body, plus i think im really dumb and then its just TOO DAMN HOT i cant do anything, I CANT EVEN MOVE. so yeah its pretty disturbing! Also not to mention how not eating much is so hard Ughh!

Ok so i have been typing for over an hour now. I kind of think I covered everything I wanted to blog about for the whole week but like Im not sure and I dont want to read all what i wrote right now cause its already so boring cause its like always in my head anywaysssss and yeah thats one nice thing about blogging. Ahh. like once i hit the ‘post’ button and then woah!!! all these thoughts just turn into feather in my head!!!!! hahaahh!!

But i still do read what i write again everytime, prolly at the end of the day to make sure nothing is ‘misunderstood or sounds completely opposite of what I actually wanted to say and all. blablaaa. So yeah if somethings mssing, ill fill it up

okay enough blabbering. Tataa!!!!!! :)

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caydenhathaway-blog · 7 years

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Vikturi

Who’s Scully and who’s Mulder: I feel like they'd both kinda be a healthy blend of Scully AND Mulder? But I would say Viktor leans SLIGHTLY more towards Mulder and Yuri leans SLIGHTLY more towards Scully, just because I see Yuri as more cautious and Viktor as the nub who would wake up one morning and go "Alright Bigfoot Hunting Day!!"

Who loves cold pizza and who thinks it’s disgusting: Yuri thinks it's absolutely DISGUSTING, Viktor doesn't *like* it but he'll eat it because he's lived alone for his entire adult life and can't cook so he eats what's available to him, Yuri is a little horrified at some of the stuff he puts in his mouth honestly

Who’s more likely to casually wear the other’s underwear and who’s more likely to always ask to see it: Neither really share underwear, oddly enough, because their sizes are quite different and it's usually uncomfortable, plus, since they both wear boxers, there's not really as much of a sexual quality to it as there would be if one of them wore panties on the regular (they do but only on sexual occassions) Every now and then they're in a rush and accidentally grab the wrong pair, and once in a wile Yuri will put on Viktor's to try to seduce him, but that's really as good as it gets (Viktor only ever wears Yuri's by mistake because Yuri has really slim hips and it's too tight for Viktor to be comfortable)

Who can’t sleep without their special pillow/tea/sound machine/whatever and who can sleep literally anywhere: Viktor can and will sleep anywhere as long as he has something breathing to use as a pillow (Makkachin, Yuri, one time he used Yurio when they were sharing a cab to the airport and let me tell you how much Yurio did not appreciate that) Yuri can sleep most places if he's tired and has a dark place to rest his eyes, so if he has a sleeping mask or can snuggle into Viktor's shoulder it isn't a problem

Who orders those terrible cooking appliances from infomercials three times a month and who sighs dramatically everytime they see a package on the porch: Yuri has tried ordering them a few times over the years but has learned his lesson, Viktor, however, believes everything he sees on TV and poor Yuri always feels a sense of dread now whenever there's a box on the doorstep

Who doesn’t trust traditional medicine and has weird natural cures for everything and who’s lowkey afraid to ever get sick because of it: Someone wrote a headcanon about Viktor having a huge variety of weird Russian remedies for EVERYTHING and Yuri being a long-suffering victim and I completely believe that headcanon

Who casually brings up sex at the breakfast table and who chokes on their cereal because of it: Viktor casually brings it up just about anywhere and Yuri chokes on //air//, he doesn't even need cereal

Who gets the same ice cream flavor every single time and who always experiments with the newest, craziest ones available: Viktor tries every crazy flavor he can find, Yuri is really plain about ice cream and just gets pretty much the same thing all the time

Who’s more likely to be a starving artist and who’s more likely to settle for a well-paying job that they hate: I can really honestly see it going both ways for both of them but I would say Viktor is more likely to be a starving artist and Yuri is more likely to work at a job he hates just because Viktor has more confidence in himself, I feel like Viktor KNOWS he's a good artist and KNOWS he can make a living at it if he tries hard enough so he won't settle for less, but Yuri's severe lack of confidence means that he's more likely to give up and settle for something he hates to make a living if he has to, on the other hand though I can see Yuri being a starving artist if he can sincerely make peace with that/be ok with living on a thin line of financial support because I don't think money matters to Yuri, so if he can SURVIVE he'll dedicate his time to art, and I can also see Viktor taking a job he hates if he's influenced to, if he were only around people who didn't believe in him and pushed him to do something stable, he would do it just to satisfy them

Who insists on getting things professionally fixed and who insists that anything can be repaired with tape: Yuri feels like most things can be fixed with tape/glue/thread and Viktor insists on getting everything professionally repaired for the best results, even if they overcharge

Who reorganizes the bookshelves at three in the morning and who would rather throw all of their books out the window than be awake at that hour: Yuri reorganizes things at three in the morning when he can't sleep or when something is nagging him, Viktor is the long-suffering sidekick who will bite his tongue and help Yuri so that he can go back to bed

Who wants to travel EVERYWHERE and who freaking hates everything to do with planes and is atleast 20% sure they’re going to somehow die due to plane related causes: Viktor would make a career out of traveling all over the world if he could honestly, it's been made pretty clear in canon to me that he has a really intense love for exploring different cultures and he obviously doesn't mind things like planes and hotels, Yuri would honestly rather stay home because he gets really extreme jetlag and just all around prefers to be comfortable there, but planes don't bother him and he DOES like exploring other places so he'd probably be pretty good with it if he could get over his jetlag

Who’s up bright and early and who hisses at the sight of the sun: Viktor is up at the crack of dawn already sunny and happy, Yuri is the person who groans and burrows into the blankets to sleep in the fetal position if he possibly can

Who does the taxes every year and who keeps asking why the government even DESERVES their money: Viktor always highkey complains about taxes like it's some form of death ... but as hard as Yuri tries he can't make sense of it so he collects their information and hires an accountant to do it (Yakov had to do Viktor's taxes before Yuri came along and nearly lost what hair he has left when he was doing it)

Who gets really philosophical and deep at three A.M. and who answers everything they say with a bad pun: They both get philosophical every now and then but it's pretty rare, when they do though, the other listens as sincerely as they can and tries to answer honestly, neither of them make puns

Who has a Favorite Mug TM and who drinks coffee out of soup bowls if it’s convenient: Viktor has a Favorite Mug.. but at the same time he'll also drink coffee out of a soup bowl if it's convenient, Yuri doesn't care what mug he drinks out of, as long as it's a mug

Who freaks out over a bad hair day and who diligently lends them one of their many hats: Viktor freaks out, Yuri buys a small collection of hats for exactly this reason (he color matches them)

Who forgets everyone’s birthdays and who has already bought a card two months in advance: Viktor can barely remember his OWN birthday ok? Much less anyone else's, Yuri makes a point of remembering everyone's birthdays and being prepared but he doesn't buy cards that far in advance

Who spends the holidays relaxing and who spends the holidays screaming and shaking like a chihuahua with anxiety: Viktor relaxes, Yuri goes out of his mind with anxiety over pretty much everything

Who spends an obscene amount of time decorating the nursery and who has to drag them to bed every single night (and then drag them BACK to bed every single night when they inevitably get up to try again): Yuri, Yuri is downright obsessive about the nursery, he often passes out in the middle of decorating if Viktor doesn't get to him first, poor Viktor is running interference during the entire process trying to keep Yuri from killing himself in there

Who has a thousand followers they’ve never even talked to on social media and who doesn’t know what a hashtag is: Viktor is very popular on social media, Yuri is too to some degree but Yuri doesn't know anything about what he's doing and most of the time Viktor absconds with his phone and posts things for him (sometimes they're embarrassing)

Who has hideous fashion sense and who’s lowkey offended everytime their partner leaves the house: I think it's pretty obvious that Yuri's taste is all in his mouth (according to Viktor) and if it was up to Viktor Yuri's entire wardrobe would be redone (he tries when they first get married but it makes Yuri feel bad so he puts (mostly) everything back)

Who steals ingredients from the other wile they’re cooking and who’s always guarding their ingredients with a wooden spoon: Viktor is the theif- every freaking time too

Who arranges their entire life around the dog and who teases them for it but does the same thing: They both arrange their entire lives around their dog(s) and neither blames the other for it, they both get it

Who talks in their sleep and who always tries to get it on video: Neither of them really talks in their sleep that much, but when they do, the other is always quick to record

Who plans their vacations right down to bathroom breaks and who destroys The Plans TM the second they get out of the car: Neither of them really make plans actually, they both pretty much just go with the flow

Who knows a ton of weird facts about everything and who always marvels at the absurdity: They both know a little bit about some random things but neither is all that much of a random info wiz but they're both EXTREMELY FREAKING IMPRESSED with every single little thing

Who’s the first one to say I love you in the morning and who’s the last one to say it at night: Honestly? It's kind of a running competition with them to see who can say it first in the morning and who can say it last at night- the second of the two can go on for as long as an hour sometimes

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khaaaaalid · 5 years

Text

I dont know where to go anymore

khalid khalid khalid khalid khalid

Im in an insane amount of pain right now and my mind is getting worse by the minute,

im trying to be strong, ive been trying to be as strong as i can be for the last month, but it only gets harder and harder with every minute.

Im juggling four different life ruining shit in my life at the same time while trying to be strong and handle them all maturely and be the biggest man i can be, but i can feel it start to affect my mind. like im slowly mentally breaking down and i feel like an explosion is about to happen that will fuck up everything in my life.

I really am trying to be strong for all my loved ones and for myself, to show this world that no matter what you will throw at me, i will be the stronger person and handle it.

But right now its all getting to me to hard.

I dont want to go back today, it hurts so much to be there, its the hardest thing ive ever gone through and probably ever will. Just thinking about what its like there fucks my whole mind in ways ive never felt before.

but now i have to go back there with a burden that is even bigger than going, going there while all i do is think about her. My mind’s mental capacity cant handle all that thinking about her when im there so i try to shut myself off from the whole world, but how do you shut off the thing that your mind literally lives and breathes off of.

Like being there and not knowing if youre okay and if youre well and how youre doing and being able to sneak a sight of you every now. Maybe hear that voice for a while ,Hell even breathing hurts when im there.

I think what scares me the most is that when im outside you can atleast see how im actually changing and how im actually putting in more effort than any motherfucking person fldonya does, and you can actually see how much i love you and what im willing to do and go through for you, but when im inside and im going through 20000 times more suffering because i cant reach you, it scares the living shit out of me that you cant see me or what i am doing or the changes and all the effort and sacrifice and hardships and every fucking im doing, and youll just end up forgetting me and remembering all the shitty shit.

I dont know what im going to be like tomorrow so im writing this to just tell myself that i have been as good a man as i could have been for over a month now. I have been strong and i have shown myself that even if the world flips on me, i can still be a good person and handle everything in atleast what i consider a really proper and mature way.

Sure i havent been perfect but im trying 100% of all my fucking self to be as proper as i can be every second of the time.

I am really fucking trying, ive never tried this hard in my life and i dont even know how i could ever do more than to fight this stupid mind of mine every second on all the things and fuck man.

So khalid if you fucking lose your shit tomorrow and everything goes bad, i am atleast proud of you for lasting this long, and i hope youre also good tomorrow and the day after, until you are back out and you can feel safe again.

Its gonna be a shit week and i really really really really hope i can pull through it.

I just really dont want to go, i dont, ive gotten so much better while im out and ive progressed so fucking much with myself and was able to actually improve alot of my terrible qualities and work on myself in ways i never imagined i actually ever could. and im becoming such a better fucking person and i dont want to go back inside and see all the shit i see that will try its best to undo all the work ive done.

i know im stronger than it and it wont affect all the work ive done, and i know im a good person on the inside and thats why it wont get to me, but itll fuck my mind so hard and its still fucking scary. it still fucking worries me how crazy ill go wanting to come back out just to get a fucking hint of you.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

when you really love someone, you be as strong a person as you can be for them, and i really am fucking doing it and im fucking proud.

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somedaypast-thesunset · 6 years

Text

I tell him in plain language I haven't eaten and have no money for food. He offers to loan me money and that I can come over. But it's -2 and all my cold weather wear is garbage from the 5 min I spent just going to the store. He says he has to charge his phone. I'm like OK but u can also do it on your laptop. "yeah but then I'd have to find my wallet". I gave a huge exaggerated laugh because who the fuck responds to someone asking to eat like 5hat? He thinks my reply is weird. I tell him I assume he's joking so I'm laughing otherwise I'm just depressed. He replies, "do you need money now?"

SO GCDFHJFFDXDJKCFYBVXSSJKCF

DO I NEED TO EAT TODAY? DO I? GYESS NOT BECAYSE I WOYLDNT WANT TO BORHER YOU TO FIND YOUR FUCKING WALLET.

the only mature non combative response I had was no response because I'm not even dignifying such a stupid fucking question with a response. Fuck you man. Just fuck you. I'd get more respect sucking dick for 40$. Quicker too.

And I'm trying soooooooo hard and it's just nothing. I'm doing nothing but expending the absolute most amount of effort I currently have before becoming sooo exhausted and frustrated that I'm becoming impulsively violent - much like traits I had very young that I worked to control. Like my day consists of waking up and being brought home. I smoke weed, find a podcast or video or movie to listen to but barely pay attention and try to bring myself to do anything. Like changing my clothes from yesterday. Going out to get food (which if I do is my entire morning and I'm done after). Lately I want soooo badly to get back into my shit. I used to be productive. Like I lost alllllllllllllllllllllllll drive for anything. I cannot fathom going to a job. My whole disposition says I want to die every moment I'm awake. I watched this doc about this crazy lady who starved to death in an abandoned house on an occupied street like ppl walked by the house she had neighbors but she like actively chose to just starve and die. And everyone's so confused like oh the neighbors were there she could've gotten food but no. I get this lady. I am this lady right now. I am in an abandoned house that is my body and my neighbors can see I'm here but they don't care if anyone is home. They wouldn't feed me.

In some ways I was like oh no. This lady is me. But she was delusional. Like she made ppl up. I haven't ever. But I am becoming like my mother more and more but I guess I empathize more. This lady was so depressed like she really wanted to die all the time and she was miserable and couldn't keep friends and I get it now. I got it before but now I really get it because there's no choice anymore. At some point you like... You're standing on the edge of the abyss and then u let go and from that point on its just free falling out of control. You can't stop it once it's hit full momentum. And I'm screaming cuz I did the drugs. And I can do them again so I can placebo effectvmyself for 2 weeks and crash again. I am existing solely for the purpose of a few other ppl right now. Like I can't die right here because my roommate has to find it and he's the last person I want to find dead me. Like if a stranger could spot a body that is me, that'd be good. Or like a dog finds me first. I want to go in a forest. I want my body to refuel the earth and I want animals to tear me apart like when the Indians let vultures eat their dead. I'm dead you know. People have too much control. I'm used to no control and I embrace the lack of control one has in death despite society trying sooo hard. And I'm still there you know cuz I want to control when I die. I wan5 to choose and death is not about choice. And it's hard to die. Killing yourself takes like extreme effort. I cannot selfishly take my cats with me tho I want to. I want to die with my cat in my arms, the only thing that ever really loved me besides my dad. I just want to go far far out where it's no coming back. Like even if I last minute didn't want to I want to be so far out in the woods I can5 make it back in such condition so I just die because wanting to live is the moment of weakness. This is not a moment. I am not in a decade long moment. I am suffering and I hurt and the "system" is a fools game. Like it took 100 yrs to accept certain medications and procedures as fucked up because it takes society 100 yrs to figure anything out and like I guess my hope is that because we're evolving technology so fast maybe in 5 years they will know how to fix depression. They will look in my brain and s3e the suffering and fix it. And I'll flick a switch and my memories will be neutral in feeling, not ptsd.

It's not even ptsd anymore. No, it's not JUST ptsd anymore. It's the starting long term effects of poverty. It's like.. My own mental issues maturing with me as I'm getting older and it's not easier at all?

Like I tried to do my shop and realized its so half assed and like I can't be this age and present this level of effort. I can do better I just chose not to but I spend effort doing it half assed still. I took apart 80% of my jewelry and have yet to go back to it because why. And that's sad. Like I have to be careful now to maintain what I do have or I may not care enough to do it again. I have alllllllllllllllllllllllll the time in the world to do something. Anything. Any. Thing. And I've listened to 350 episodes of last podcast, know deeply a 38 yr old man I never met who plays video games online, watched anything deemed good on Netflix, am totally up to date on s3veral news websites and podcasts and I smoke like 400$ worth of weed a month.

I don't even want to know me.

But like.. I don't pretend I just don't talk. I talk to others, share commentary occasionally but I just don't talk about anything. I especially don't talk about how depressed I am because it just bothers ppl and creates both positive and negative opinions none of which are helpful to the illness.

So im very very secluded. And I used to use isolated but that's negative. That's saying I'm forced into it. I'm forcing it. I'm not. I actively choose it now so I am secluded and extremely private.

I'm still trying though? Like I don't even know why. Today I signed up for usertesting sites because I already do contract tests for consumer reviews so maybe I'll make some money but at the same time I feel like its another dead end. Just go work at McDonald's.

Art wise, there is so much I could do to revamp my shop. All new, well made jewelry. I need all new photos including ones of my art with close ups and stuff. I want to "graduate" my art skills a bit. Like really make nice well cut paper with borders for matting and start to sign my work and like all of this means higher quality so a higher price. I can do fucking better. And honestly I'm not doing anything else right now. My mind is completely disabled and to consider working is laughable now. I know I'm not going to so I can stop being anxious about it. Fuck em. I've been doing a depression project for charity cuz that's what I did earlier this year too but this one is more personal. I have 3/5 of what I wanted for my goal but at the same time what I made is so.. Average. It's not great at all. It's just iok and does the job and I tried my best but maybe I didn't? The fact 3/5 have all turned out with fairly major issues makes me feel less inclined to continue and the whole thing pointless cuz why give something to the homeless that sucks. So u can feel good?

I don't want therapy or medication. I deeply hate society and most of humanity. I used to be OK with it and I wanted to be apart of it but I was so shit on by so many people that I can't do it anymore. It's not worth it. 30 years of shit for like 30 y3ars of average? Cool.

Still trying tho. Still asked for money for food and I'll go hungry today but I'll havevmoney tomorrow I guess. That's life. Me and the 45 ppl on main St homeless. Somedays you eat Somedays you don't. He will probably realize at some point he made a mistake - hopefully. Because if I have to chase him for it, I'm probably going to hang out by myself tomorrow too.

I'm now worried I have no good winter clothes and my boots have holes in them. I'm already in super debt. I have to get a new jacket and boots before it snows. I could've gotten an extra 10 if I braved the cold for 25 min tonight but I'm just so tired I don't care enough. I can't talk to anyone about this. Then I'm just poor and a burden cuz I have no job and spend money on weed. And I did. I put myself far into debt just for weed. I'm now working on this plan that since I've quit smoking I must be up some money so I'll slowly build funds back up by not smoking and not spending crazy. Which even now sounds bullshit. But I'm trying the testing thing as well. If I get my shop up before Xmas rush. These are reasons to try but I'm only trying because d3pression put me in debt. If I wasn't this sad I wouldn't spend this money. I wouldntvlive like this.

Honestly until I get this money I don't even have funds for the bus to get my birth control. At the same time tho I was willing to sit all of this out and wait but I have like 7 days to be paid and I can't go 7 days without eating at all.

I spent myblast 3$ on cat food and honestly just this run down alone describes how insane I am. Like there's no way it's OK for me to be on my own to this degree. No sound psychologist would say yes 100% clearly functioning on their own in need of no assistance. If someone described this to me in my moments of sound mind I would be like this bitch is dead in atleast 5 years. Prob less. Meds aren't enough. Therapy is not enough. And I don't deserve to be in a psych ward because my capacity for reasoning and logic is fully there and it's unfair to have success in q team monitored to be released into the same conditions you know.

What am I doing when my father's gone? This because no one recognized that in a Co dependent relationship there are two people who are d3oendent not just one and instead of really assessing the situation people chose to think I was lazy and living off my father (even tho I was not) ignoring severe depression and suicidal t3ndencies. Thanks.

I am the abandoned house.

Today I was trying to get ready to leave when he said he still wanted to smoke from my bong and ohh where do I have to go that's so important. And it's not just him. It's anyone who knows myclife. They d3cided my time has less value because someone who's not them d3cided to pay me money in exchange for menial tasks. Since I don't have that my time is meaningless and they can not show up to qppts or show up late or leave late or make me wait X amount of time cuz I have all the time in the world. They work u know. But I no longer care. For the people who know me I'm no longer accepting this and just going about my lif3 without them. For those who don't, I'm no longer going to share anything about my life with anyone. I'm just as valuable as you. My time is equally of worth. Fuck you for ever thinking different.

Just remember - anyone else alive, not your problem.

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