#in person/phone/real time communication is just SO much easier for my brain to process and depletes my social energy slower

[jjacob]

all i want for christmas is you

❝ the school had started to take notice of you. lee juyeon, however, had always noticed. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee juyeon x fem!reader (ft. best friend!lee minho)

GENRES ▸ fluff, high school au, sports au, best friends to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ mild profanity but !! lots of !! fluff !! 

SUMMARY ▸ the bet was simple: find a date to the winter ball. the only problem was that juyeon didn’t want just any girl. he wanted you.

PLAYLIST ▸ all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey

WORD COUNT ▸ 5055 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ merry christmas! this is a gift for addy @honeyju​ the biggest juyeon simp ik !! ily addy i am excited/scared/not emotionally ready to read the minho one which ! btw y’all should read here bc our stories are loosely connected! also disclaimer: i know jack shit ab football but i tried

LEE JUYEON TENDED TO REGRET HALF THE THINGS HE SAID SOMETIMES. 

In eighth grade, Juyeon’s sense of humor was largely self-deprecating and consisted of saying he wanted to die at the slightest inconvenience. But, with his spectacular timing, he let the joke slip in front of a teacher once and froze up upon seeing her concerned expression. Juyeon later received a note from the counselor’s office and had to convince them that he was perfectly fine.

In tenth grade, Juyeon had grown past his phase of dark humor and moved onto high school football. He made the cut for the team the previous year, and managed to make it on the varsity team by the time he was a sophomore. In the beginning of the season, they asked who wanted to be captain the next year, and Juyeon boldly declared that he did. Thus, he was ridiculed and sentenced to pick up balls and clean up the gym after every practice from then on.

Now, as a high school junior in the varsity football team, Juyeon had screwed himself over by making a stupid bet with his best friend, Lee Minho.

Lee Minho was, in short, a conniving bastard. Juyeon never should have trusted him and gone along with his antics. The mere thought of what he had gotten himself into was enough to send his heart into overdrive.

The bet sounded simple enough: find a date to the Winter Ball.

Of course, it was easier said than done, but Juyeon was a star athlete and had girls sliding in his DMs left and right. He could easily find a date if he wanted to, and, honestly, Juyeon only needed to send a few texts and he would probably be secured for the dance. The problem was, however, that Juyeon only wanted you.

Minho was well aware of Juyeon’s pitiful, unrequited love towards you. It was probably the reason he suggested the bet; his best friend either wanted to see him miserable or see him score a chance with you. Either way, Juyeon wasn’t sure his heart was ready to shoot his shot.

Juyeon had crushed on you ever since you sat next to him in the seventh grade and let him borrow your pencil. It was such a silly start to his admiration for you, but his feelings grew stronger when the both of you actually became friends. You were so bright when you laughed, so sweet when you spoke, and so adorable when you smiled. Juyeon had never felt this way about anyone else and always got butterflies when he saw you. Juyeon was never one to chase after girls but he would find himself constantly thinking about what you were up to and having several internal dilemmas over whether he should ask you to hang out or not.

Five years later and Juyeon still harbored feelings for you. Now, they had matured into something deeper, but you still racked his brain nevertheless. It didn’t help that you had a major glow-up in high school and were probably the most beautiful person Juyeon had ever seen.

The school started to take notice of you.

Juyeon, on the other hand, had always noticed.

“Are you sure we can finish a medium before practice?” Minho asked Juyeon, setting a box of pizza on the table in front of him. “Also, I saw Y/N by the gym earlier.”

Juyeon perked up. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” Minho replied, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza for himself. “You know what day it is, right?”

Minho took a bite out of his pizza, observing Juyeon with a raised brow. His best friend was on the baseball team but treating themselves to pizza had become a monthly ritual. Despite being on different teams, he was closer to Minho than his football teammates.

“Thursday?”

“And that means?”

Right.

Juyeon had formulated an elaborate plan to ask you out during the football game today, but, of course, it all depended on whether their team won or not. It would have been kind of ridiculous to propose after a loss. On the bright side, he knew he could count on the fact that you’d actually be present considering you were a cheerleader.

But what if you already had a date? You surely hadn’t mentioned it to him or posted about it on social media, so he was riding on an assumption that you haven’t been asked. That was bizarre to Juyeon, though, because you were the prettiest person he had ever seen. However, it was true that you were gradually getting popular, and that made Juyeon a touch nervous.

“I ask her out tomorrow,” Juyeon breathed out. “Am I ready for this?”

Minho scoffed lightly. “Are you ever?”

Juyeon frowned at his best friend, scrunching up his nose at his distasteful comment. “What about you? Have you gotten a date?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Juyeon sighed. That was probably all he would get out of Lee Minho today. Once Minho set his mind on something, he carried it out diligently until the end. Juyeon honestly had no idea who he wanted to bring since Minho didn’t like talking about girls he was interested in, but he supposed it wasn’t that big of a deal as long as his best friend was happy.

It wasn’t like Juyeon was never going to hear about his friend’s endeavors. After all, he did pick up on Minho’s slow descent from an apathetic individual to a whipped ball of fluff. If Juyeon mentioned that to his best friend, however, he would probably be ridiculed for consistently being whipped for you since the seventh grade.

Juyeon nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of his ringer going off. He scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket, ignoring Minho’s teasing smirk at the sight of his frazzled self.

y/n: hey :) i’m gonna drop off some gingerbread cookies my mom made after practice so lmk when i can come over

Juyeon must have saved a country in a past life for this kind of luck.

juyeon: i love your mom’s cookies. you can come over whenever you’d like

y/n: how about we walk home together after practice?

juyeon: sounds good to me

Now, the pizza was starting to make his mouth water, but if you were walking home with him, Juyeon was ready to drop it and run to see you even though he loved pizza. But Juyeon loved you more than he loved pizza, and he believed that was true love.

“She made me cookies,” Juyeon announced.

“She made you cookies,” Minho repeated, leaning forward in surprise.

“Well, her mom did, but yeah.”

Minho turned his attention back to his pizza. “So this is about your mommy kink again.”

“I don’t have a fucking mommy—why would you say that?” Juyeon cried out, kicking his friend’s shin under the table.

“You don’t? Last time I checked, she was making dinner in the kitchen when I came over yesterday.”

“I’m talking about the kink!”

Yet, even a silly back-and-forth with Minho couldn’t get Juyeon down from his high over you. He was still processing the fact that you were going to walk home with him and, if Juyeon played his cards right, maybe he could get a feel of how comfortable you would be if he asked you out during the game tomorrow.

Minho snickered. “You look happy.”

Juyeon couldn’t even mask his lovesick smile and flushed cheeks. He folded his arms on the table in front of him and buried his face in them, his head spinning at the thought of you.

“Shut up, Minho.”

The only problem with you being on the cheerleading team was that you were extremely distracting.

Juyeon was the star quarterback and frankly, it was kind of pathetic that the one thing that kicked him in the ass was seeing you in the knee socks and pom-poms. It didn’t help that you were a flyer so Juyeon’s stomach pitted with anxiety whenever he saw you being thrown up and whenever he heard a scream coming from the direction of the cheerleaders.

Today was different, though. Juyeon could care less about the screams and falls from the corner of the field. All he could think about was you and how he was going to ask you out. If his plan was going to work, it was going to draw a lot of attention and be quite embarrassing if it failed.

All of his confidence got knocked down with a single sweep when he saw someone asked you to the dance.

One of the cheerleaders broke into a fit of giggles at the sight, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god!”

You were frozen stiff, an awkward smile on your face as the guy walked onto the field with a sign and about a dozen roses. Juyeon could feel his heart sinking to the ground with each step the guy took, with each second his smile grew brighter.

“Is he seriously confessing during practice?” Sohn Youngjae asked, brows furrowed as he rested his arm on Juyeon’s shoulder. “That’s real brave.”

“What’s his deal doing it here? He isn’t even on the team,” Juyeon said, coming off more bitter than he had expected.

Younghoon scoffed. “It’s a bold move. He must be confident that Y/N’s going to say yes.”

Juyeon squared his shoulders. He was conflicted with the swell of anger and deflation of you possibly being taken, but nevertheless, all he could do was watch helplessly as you were being asked out. From where they were on the field, Juyeon couldn’t hear much, but he could see your reactions quite well. The wolf-whistles and cheers were pissing him off, but he was fixed on you.

He turned to look towards Minho, who was practicing on the field adjacent to theirs. His best friend met his gaze immediately like they had some form of exclusive telepathic communication. Minho nodded towards you and raised a brow, as if nudging Juyeon to go interrupt them. That, however, was something he was far too cowardly to bring himself to do.

Your voice resounded clearer than Juyeon had expected.

“I’m really sorry,” you apologized sincerely, ducking your head and keeping your hands entwined behind you. “I’m not interested, but I do appreciate the gesture.”

Juyeon felt a weight lift off of his chest. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve felt relieved that you shot him down or nervous that you rejected an attractive, confident guy who clearly liked you. However, he soon had no time to mull over that when the guy’s reaction was getting more aggressive than crestfallen.

“Y/N, I asked you out in front of all these people,” he said with a distasteful laugh. “Are you seriously rejecting me right now?”

“Sorry, I just don’t want to go with you,” you replied firmly, voice dropping as you became more conscious of your surroundings. “I’m sorry it had to be public but you didn’t really give me a choice.”

For a split second, Juyeon wondered how he could still hear you when you were practically muttering at this point, and then he realized that he started walking to you without even realizing. His feet carried him unknowingly, hand balled at his side and eyes stony and trained on the guy.

“You could’ve just accepted it and told me later that you didn’t want to go with me,” he said with a scoff. “It’s like you enjoy humiliating others publicly.”

Your teammates rushed forward to argue and fend him off while you opened your mouth to protest, but Juyeon was faster, moving in front of you so he was head-to-head with the guy.

“She said she’s not interested,” he said with a threatening undertone, wondering where he managed to muster up the courage to be this assertive.

You were visibly shocked by Juyeon’s actions, and he couldn’t even blame you because he was equally just as surprised as you were. Yet, all he could do was glare daggers down at the other guy with steely eyes and frown until he backed off.

“Thanks,” you said softly once the guy had left.

Juyeon was flustered by all the girls giggling behind you but was amazed by how cool and collected you remained despite that. He turned to you, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He knew he was getting an earful about this from his teammates after practice and most definitely from Minho as well.

“No problem,” Juyeon replied, cheeks red. “He was bothering you. I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“That was really sweet of you, Juyeon.” You bit back a smile and suggested, “Meet you at the front gates after practice?”

“See you then.”

Even though Juyeon could’ve spent the rest of practice talking to you, he sprinted back as fast as he could because his cheeks were only getting redder as the cheerleaders gushed about what he did for you. He could hear their gossip and whispering even as he was running back to his team. Juyeon was positive he wouldn’t escape the embarrassment, though, because Lee Jaehyun was smirking at him when he got back.

“You’re blushing, dude.”

Juyeon shoved him.

There was a universal law that was newly decreed. It read: Lee Minho shall never text, call, or speak to Lee Juyeon whenever Y/N was around.

The reason for that being the fact that Juyeon was easily embarrassed and Minho’s texts were not helping his case. He felt it was rude enough to check his phone while he was walking with you, but every time he saw a notification flash, his eyes widened with sheer distress over Minho’s texts.

minho: like three people asked me if you and y/n are fucking bc of what you pulled during practice today

minho: wait are y’all fucking and just not telling me

minho: i knew it was sus that she was coming over to your house

juyeon: fake news!! stop making me feel shy :(

Juyeon decided he had enough Lee Minho for today and turned off his phone.

“That was honestly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” you gushed to Juyeon as you walked home with him, fingers looped around the straps of your backpack. “Way cooler than you punting footballs.”

“No need to flatter me,” Juyeon replied coolly but his shy smile and red-tipped ears said otherwise. “That guy was being unnecessarily aggressive.”

“His proposal was out of nowhere!” you exclaimed. “I don’t get what he expected me to do.”

Juyeon smiled through the pain. Lord, give me strength, he prayed to whatever divine power was out there.

“Are you not interested in having a date to the dance then?” Juyeon asked, looking down at you curiously.

You paused for a moment and Juyeon thought his heart would stop in anticipation for your answer. Come to think of it, he had never seen you go to a school dance with a date before. You were always with your friend group. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary to see you stick with them, but Juyeon was hoping he could change that.

“Well,” you started, “if the right person asked me then I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Juyeon couldn’t exactly read your smile but it made him want to faint. The rest of the walk back home was spent talking about school and football, but Juyeon couldn’t get your answer to his question out of his head. He even walked past his house because his head was so full of you, resulting in you needing to stop him and tell him that they had already reached his place.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Juyeon’s mom chirped with a good-natured smile. “How has your mom been?”

Juyeon’s eyes widened upon the realization that they never stopped by at your place first to get the cookies. He opened his mouth to interject but you went on to answer.

“She’s been great, Mrs. Lee,” you replied, smiling just as big, and pulled out a box of cookies from your bag. “She wanted me to give these to you.”

“That’s so sweet! Give her my thanks,” his mom replied and opened the door wider once she accepted the cookies. “Come in for some tea, will you?”

Juyeon was practically frozen at the doorway while you were taking off your shoes and walking inside. If you had the cookies with you this entire time, then why didn’t you just give them to him to take home himself? Unless you were worried about the courtesy, it was a bit out of your way to take the time to walk home with Juyeon to deliver them.

“Juyeon, what are you doing out there?” his mom asked. “Come inside. It’s cold.”

“Right.”

Having you over at his house wasn’t exactly the sparkly fantasy that Juyeon thought it would be.

He was getting quite jealous of your mom hogging all of your attention. It wasn’t like you and Juyeon drifted apart during high school, so he wasn’t sure why his mom had to pull you away from him and have her own conversation with you. The worst part was that Juyeon couldn’t even join in on the conversation. He had no idea what they were even talking about.

That is, until his mom brought up the dance.

“Do you have a date, Y/N?” Juyeon’s mom asked.

“I don’t,” she replied. “I usually just go with my friends.”

“You’re so pretty, though,” Mrs. Lee tutted. “I’m sure someone must’ve asked you out.”

“Actually, someone asked me today,” you said. There was a moment of silence as you looked over at Juyeon while his gaze bore into yours. For a moment, you were struggling for what to say, mouthing words that weren’t being processed. Juyeon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly once you regained your composure. “Juyeon actually helped me out.”

Mrs. Lee straightened up. “My son did?” She looked amused as she turned to Juyeon.

“Yeah,” you answered, grinning. “He was really cool.”

Juyeon blushed darkly once their eyes were on him. “W-what? I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t even doing that much. I was just helping out. You know, being a decent person,” he rambled and stood up. “Anyways, isn’t it getting late? Mom, Y/N has to go home soon and it’s gonna be pitch black outside if you keep her here.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Mrs. Lee frowned as she peered out the window. “Juyeon, you walk her home then.”

“What?” he sputtered out, looking between you and his mom before he caved, muttering, “I’ll go get my jacket.”

After an exchange of goodbyes, you had stepped out of the house and waited while Juyeon was slipping his shoes on. There was a moment of struggle where he had tied his laces too tight and couldn’t get the shoe on but he managed to slip it on after a few seconds of internal screaming. Juyeon zipped up his jacket the moment he stepped outside, the brisk coldness making his goosebumps rise.

“You really don’t have to walk me back,” you told Juyeon. “It’s cold outside.”

“It’s really late,” Juyeon replied, rubbing his hands together in hopes that the friction would provide some heat. “You shouldn’t be walking home by yourself, and I really don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, ducking your face. “For this, for what you did during practice—everything.”

Juyeon was glad that you weren’t looking at him because his mouth was opening and closing over and over again like a fish. He was also thankful for the fact that he could blame the dust of pink across his cheeks on the cold winter bite. Unfortunately, you lived close by so Juyeon didn’t have time to come up with a cool response and he didn’t want to leave things like this. There was a good vibe going on and he was upset that he couldn’t act upon it; when it came to you, Lee Juyeon was a coward.

“Um, we’re here so…” Juyeon trailed off when he turned to you, sort of thrown off by how beautiful you looked with your windswept hair and flushed cheeks. Dazed, he reached forward and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. “It’s good I walked you home and you’re not like, lost or… something—I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed, and it was an octave higher as if you were rattled from him touching your hair. “Ah, yes, a few streets down can be a harrowing trek.”

Juyeon laughed with you before his eyes settled on you. Your hands were crossed, rubbing your arms that were prickled with goosebumps. A wave of guilt washed through Juyeon and led him to strip his jacket off immediately. He ignored the piercing chill and put his jacket around your shoulders, making sure they covered your bare arms.

“My house is right here,” you argued. “You’re going to be cold.”

“Keep it on. I have something to tell you after the game,” Juyeon said firmly. It was his second burst of courage for you today and he was a little too amped up for his own good. “If you don’t like it then give me back my jacket tomorrow.”

Before you could respond, Juyeon turned on his heel and bolted home, the biggest grin across his face because he was head-over-heels for you.

Juyeon had never been so nervous in his life.

The game was underway, Juyeon’s leg bouncing as he eyeballed the scoreboard. His team was strong in the first two quarters, cutting it close by the third, but now they were neck-to-neck. They had ended with a tie and now they decided to go into overtime for the sake of choosing a winner for the game. It was a sudden death round so whoever scored first would win the game. Juyeon, however, found it difficult to concentrate.

Especially with Lee Minho breathing down his back.

“Are you ready?” his best friend asked.

“Yes—well, no, but I don’t really have a choice.”

“That’s true.”

“I already made the sign and told the team and everything,” Juyeon whined. “I really screwed myself over, Minho.”

Minho pushed at the back of his head. “Dude, I’m talking about the game.”

“Oh, that—that’s fine,” Juyeon stammered. “Fifteen minutes—we just have to win, and then I have to ask out the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“You could chicken out,” Minho suggested, “but that also comes with me never letting you live it down.”

“You see, I kind of already implied that I’m going to tell her something important.”

“You did?” Minho’s voice was somewhere between shocked and impressed.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Juyeon muttered, pushing himself off the bench. “Keep the poster safe for me!”

“Good luck, champ!”

Juyeon, sweaty and bangs sticking to his forehead, had to ignore every distraction and think about winning the game before his stomach threw itself into a pool of anxiety over asking you out. He got in a huddle with his team in the remaining fifteen seconds they had before they had to get in formation and lowered the facemask of his helmet. It was up to this one last play to determine whether they would win the game or not.

“Just like we practiced, alright?” Juyeon told them. “Double-wing power pass. We get them to bite thinking it’s a run play and then open up a passing lane.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Jaehyun cheered, and the rest of them put in their mouth guards and lowered their facemasks.

Juyeon took a shaky breath as he got in formation at the line of scrimmage. His heart was racing but he wasn’t sure it was about the game. Nevertheless, he steeled his nerves and held his ground. The whistle blew and the crowd was silent, observing the tension on the field carefully.

“Silver-80! Silver-80! Hut! Hut! Hike!” Juyeon yelled, and the center, Sangyeon, snapped the ball to him.

Juyeon faked a handoff to Jaehyun, the fullback, and spun around, rolling to his right. Changmin sped up in front of Juyeon to defend him. A smile tugged at Juyeon’s lips. Their plan was working just as he intended, but there was a problem: they couldn’t open up a passing lane for the running backs like he thought they would. The play was too rushed, so it wasn’t ever a guarantee.

So Juyeon had to do what he would normally deem crazy.

He spun at the sight of the other team coming to tackle him and skirted around the field, belting down the field. He dodged past another linebacker that tried to body him. His primary motivation was that he didn’t want a concussion before he confessed to you, but he assumed it was okay to admit that to himself as long as he didn’t throw the game.

Juyeon felt a hand grab him but he pushed forward, running across the goal line and into the end zone. He threw the ball down and cried out in joy as he scored a touchdown. The whistle blew and the scoreboard flipped. They won.

He did it.

Juyeon’s team ran to him, cheering at the top of their lungs. He was lifted up on Jaehyun and Younghoon’s shoulders, grinning happily before his heart sunk back down. The cheerleaders ran to the field, cheering and tossing their pom poms up. The crowd was roaring. Juyeon was realizing that he had to do the scariest thing that a heterosexual teenage boy ever had to experience.

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” Juyeon tapped his shoulder quickly. “We have no time. I have to do it now.”

“Oh shit.”

Jaehyun and Younghoon dropped Juyeon onto the turf. Juyeon winced at the sudden impact, gathering himself back to his feet and hoping you didn’t witness that. Jaehyun gave him a half-assed apology and pushed him forward to run and get his poster and flowers from Minho. Jaehyun then grabbed Changmin by the shoulders, urging him to go to the announcer’s booth.

Juyeon sprinted over to Minho, waving his hands dramatically. “Give, give, give,” he demanded amongst all the cheering.

Minho didn’t waste any time and pushed the poster and bouquet into Juyeon’s hands. “Break a leg, tiger.”

“Trust me, I nearly did.”

Juyeon jogged back onto the field, cheeks hot and head a little dizzy for what was about to come. He didn’t even tell his mom he was going to ask you out and she had to watch her son ask his best friend out to the dance. This was probably going to be a moment of utter humiliation but once Juyeon saw you in your high ponytail with a bright smile on your face, all that fear faded away and it was just you and him.

More importantly, you were wearing his jacket over your uniform and Juyeon felt like he was going to combust from the cuteness.

“Guys, guys,” Jaehyun called to the team. “Surround Juyeon. Make sure Y/N doesn’t see him.”

Juyeon’s heart was beating a hundred miles per second. He was glad he was running on the adrenaline from winning the game because otherwise, he would be cowering in fear and sweating buckets right now.

“Everyone, listen up!” Changmin spoke over the intercom. “First of all, the football team scored a major dub today—ow! Sunwoo, cut it out—alright, I’ll get to it!” Changmin broke from the mic and started bickering with Sunwoo.

There was a pause, and Juyeon was surprised to hear Minho’s voice fill the speakers, “Anyways, my buddy and our star quarterback, Juyeon, has something to say for a special someone.”

The crowd fell silent, a couple cheers and wolf-whistles as it was pretty obvious that a confession was about to happen.

“This is so fucking fluffy,” Sunwoo mumbled.

“Shut up, Sunwoo,” Juyeon replied, nudging him with his elbow.

The football team moved out of the way so that they weren’t huddled around Juyeon anymore. Juyeon’s breath caught in his throat as he walked forward to the middle of the field, holding up his sign, reading: Will you be my sunshine?

“Y/N,” he called out loudly, “honestly this confession is long overdue, but will you go to Winter Ball with me tonight and be my sunshine?”

The crowd started cheering and whistling again, and Juyeon wanted to die. She hadn’t even given him her answer yet and everyone was acting like she had agreed and they eloped. The cheerleaders pushed Y/N forward and she approached Juyeon, looking like a deer in headlights.

Juyeon took another shaky breath and continued, “I’ve been in love with you for so long so it would be an honor if I could take you to the dance,” he said and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”

You bit your lip but that wasn’t enough to contain the happiness that showed on your face. You zipped up Juyeon’s jacket and threw yourself into his arms. Everyone practically exploded but Juyeon was sure his heartbeat was louder. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.

Was this what people called a Christmas miracle?

“Oh shit!” Changmin screamed over the intercom. (“Shut up, they’re having a moment,” Minho’s faint voice was picked up in the background).

“Oh my god, you just made me the happiest man alive,” he mumbled.

You pulled back and reached forward to move his damp bangs off of his forehead. “Took you long enough.”

“Wait, did you—did you like me?” Juyeon choked out.

You laughed and cupped his face in your hands. There was a shaky inhale and exhale of breaths when his lips brushed against yours, and Juyeon closed the distance, kissing you like he was starved of your touch. His hold tightened on you as you melted into him, and then you both pulled away, smiling and dazed and lovesick.

You giggled. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, grinning as he brushed his nose against yours.

Juyeon could care less about all the presents and holiday cheer because he had you and you were all he wanted.

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[hearingaidstechnology]

Best Hearing Aids Of 2021

Hearing loss is a condition that is becoming more common across the globe, affecting one in eight individuals aged 12 years or older, based on research conducted in the United States. Hearing aids are often prescribed as a treatment for people with hearing impairment. Although hearing aids are not a cure that can reverse hearing loss, these are devices that are able to provide a potentially life-changing improvement to your hearing. Being able to hear the sounds that you enjoy, being able to engage in conversations is essential to your physical and emotional well-being. From social interaction, family connection to workplace productivity, good hearing is important for maintaining relationships with others, allowing one to actively participate in team and community activities.

With so many hearing aid products that are available in the market today, people are spoilt for choices when it comes to selecting the hearing aids that is the most suitable for them. Our expert review will provide you with all the information you require about finding the right pair of hearing aids for yourself. In this list, we have selected the best 5 hearing aids of 2021 based on the features and the technology level.

Signia Pure Charge&Go AX

Pure Charge&Go AX is the first hearing aid among the newly launched Signia Augmented Xperience (AX) platform. It is a Receiver-In-Canal (RIC) model, and it is the only hearing aid in the market that uses two separate processors for speech and environment to deliver outstanding speech clarity. It has an attractive and sleek design with proven rechargeability. This latest technology of hearing aids has a new and improved e2e system which transmits data faster, resulting in true binaural hearing. The Own Voice Processing (OVP) technology processes the wearer’s own voice completely independently from all other sounds, including all other voices, and this provides you with the best speech understanding that sounds the most natural. This hearing aid also offers direct streaming for both iOS and ASHA-compatible Android smartphones. Pairing with the Signia App provides access to hearing aid controls, streaming capabilities, tinnitus therapy, Signia Assistant for 24/7 digital support, Signia Telecare for remote care support, and much more.

The wearers have the option to choose from 3 different chargers to power their hearing aids, depending on their preferences and lifestyle.

               Signia Active X

This Signia Active X hearing aids is a ready to wear In-The-Ear (ITE) hearing aid and sits comfortably with sleeves to match the wearer’s ear. It has a user-friendly design similar to premium consumer ear buds for a seamless and comfortable fit. Combining the Signia Xperience technology with Li-ion rechargeability and Bluetooth connectivity, the Signia Active X hearing aids is a game-changing hearing aids that will surely boost your hearing performance in almost any environment and situations.

Phonak Audéo Paradise

Phonak Audéo Paradise also comes under the category of RIC hearing aids. These hearing aids are capable of delivering crisp natural sound, brilliant speech understanding and personalized noise cancelling. It has a tap control feature which allows you to answer phone calls, stream or pause music and activate voice assistance just by simply tapping your hearing aids.

These Phonak hearing aids connects to IOS, Android and other Bluetooth enabled devices seamlessly so that you can stream quality audio directly to your hearing aids. You can simultaneously connect up to two Bluetooth devices and can alternate streaming between the two. Pairing of the hearing aids to the myPhonak app on your mobile devices will enable you to adjust and control the paradise hearing aids in real time. Remote support feature in the app allows your audiologist to fit and adjust your hearing aids in real time.

                 ReSound ONE

The latest ReSound ONE hearing aids with Microphone & Receiver-In -Ear (M&RIE) combines the two traditional microphones with a third one that sits in the ear canal. This hearing technology uses individual’s unique hearing anatomy to collect and direct sound organically, and therefore providing the brain with the most complete sound. This will allow patients to hear the most natural sounds with more direction and depth. The addition of ultra-focus feature can be activated by users and is ideal for one-to-one conversation in very noisy environments. With your ReSound ONE hearing aids, you can connect directly to your iPhone or Android smartphones, and stream audio and wireless calls to your hearing aids via the stable Bluetooth Low Energy. The ReSound Smart 3D app can be used to access your favourite program and adjust the volume control. With ReSound Assist, you can send a request for assistance to your hearing care professional from the comfort of your home.  

Starkey Livio Edge AI In-The-Canal (ITC)

The Starkey Livio Edge AI ITC hearing aids is the world’s first wireless custom rechargeable hearing aids in the market. With the evolving Covid-19 global pandemic, these small and wireless hearing aids sits completely in the ear so that they won’t be tangled by the mask. With a simple tap, the artificial intelligence technology integrated into the hearing aids will be activated, scanning the environment, and making changes on the spot to help users hear clearer when they need it most. Users can hear speech comfortably even in busy and noisy settings with unwanted noise suppressed. Bluetooth connectivity of the hearing aid is compatible with IOS as well ASHA recognised Android phones. The Thrive Hearing Control App allows user to change the settings and adjust volume of their hearing aids, giving them full control over their listening device. These intelligent hearing aids are the first in the market to provide body tracking, brain tracking and fall detection and alerts.

If you are searching for the best hearing aids in Singapore, look to The Hearing Centre. We are a pioneer in providing the top-quality hearing aids to the hearing impaired for over 17 years and counting. Our experienced team provides a full suite of hearing-related services from consultation, to assessment, hearing aid fitting, and post-care, all tailored to your individual needs.

With many years of strong partnership with some of the leading hearing aid manufacturers in the world, we provide customers with the best quality hearing aids at most affordable prices and are proud to operate with high standards of integrity.

“After using a hearing aid, life became [easier]. I was able to hear when somebody talked softly.”

- Ms Meena.

"We are very glad that we were introduced to The Hearing Centre by my mother's ENT doctor from Mount E Hospital in the year 2004. Till date, my mother has made 3 hearing devices with them, and each time, Mr Ernest Poh and his colleagues attend to my mother with care, explaining to her carefully which devices are suitable for her. We are very glad that Mr Poh is very understanding and accommodating towards my mother's requests, especially now that she has dementia at the age of 87. The services provided by The Hearing Centre went way beyond the purchase of the hearing devices.”

- June, daughter of Mdm See.

#hearing test #hearingaids #hearingaid #hearingtechnology #hearingloss #hearingaidsingapore

[h-sleepingirl]

EEEHU + Scenes From A Hypnotic Skype Call 3/29/20

This is a writing about my weekend. This is a writing about EEEHU, and a writing about a Skype date. They are very different in tone, but inevitably interconnected. This is a writing I debated on doing -- on how to express it, and whether or not I should share it.This is a writing that starts very hard, but gets easier. 

I was a part of two classes on Saturday. I thought that would be easy; I had been kicking myself for not submitting more and was very close to deciding to put on an unconference class. 

It was not easy. 

I didn't sleep well that night, and haven't been sleeping well in general. Since shifting my work, I felt like my sleep should be pretty stable, since I work on my own schedule now. But I've been staying up late and waking up early. It's a bad pattern, and it was the second day in a 5hr sleep cycle. 

I was already drained, and I had a lot to juggle to get everything running smoothly Saturday morning. It was taxing and I was exhausted. I was snapping at stupid things, uncharacteristically. I kept saying, with forced glee, "It's just like a real con! I'm sleep deprived and stressed!"

But once we got started, the first class with MrDream went well, and I enjoyed it. The audience was incredibly generous towards both him and me. I was so pleased at how many people were getting information and how many people said that they loved my trance face, although I had to force down a little bit of juvenile bitterness that we couldn’t just monopolize the class with play and go as hard as we usually do. There were 140ish people in the class -- a lot. We did Q&A to wrap up, and then I had to run to do tech testing for the podcast.

What I couldn’t do was give MrDream a hug after the class. What I couldn’t do was walk down the hotel hallway to see him and decompress. What I couldn’t do was hang around and chat with attendees in the lobby and in the con spaces.

I felt that immensely, stinging, but I had to push it down, because I had more to do.

The podcast, despite some inevitable technical issues, went well enough. By that point, I was feeling incredibly drained, and hadn’t been able to eat more than some yogurt for the majority of the day because of feeling crappy from not sleeping. It went for 2 hours -- very long, and we had no breaks. I was on autopilot. I had a good time, but felt almost dissociated, far away from myself.

I turned off the meeting, and I was suddenly in my bed, alone, just with cc, waiting for the audio to save.

I could not go see MrDream. I could not go see my friends. I could not get a hug. I could not text someone to ask where the party was and then stay up until 4am doing hypnosis and talking bullshit.

I started crying -- not weeping, not choking out tears, but wailing, hard crying.

It was the build-up of nearly a month of not processing that life, right now, is different. I cannot see my loved ones. I cannot see my community. EEEHU was a monstrous effort by its organizers which I applaud, and am so dearly happy that so many people enjoyed it, but for me, it was a harsh reminder that it was not a con in the way that I needed, and that I will not get that in the foreseeable future.

And I can’t see MrDream.

Our 2-year dating anniversary was just over a week ago. We would have had a date, riled up from not seeing each other for a month, meeting near the vernal equinox, the change of seasons having become important to us. And then we would have seen each other at NEEHU, a week later.

Now I don’t know when I will see him again.

After keeping that fact so distant from myself, taking one day at a time, I was slapped in the face by it.

I cried. I cried so hard. I have not cried like that in months, maybe a year. It was the rawness of isolation, the feeling of tragedy, of separation.

After a few minutes of it, I stopped, because I didn’t want to dig myself into a hole I couldn’t get out of. I saw myself in a mirror, and saw the mascara running in streaks down my face -- an effect I’ve tried hard to achieve for kink and in scenes for my partners who enjoy tears.

I took out my phone and snapped a picture -- the picture I take for MrDream every day of myself when I feel particularly brainwashed. If this wasn’t such a clear sign of how brainwashed, how dependent, how addicted, how in love I am, then I don’t know what is.

He responded well.

I went to bed early, feeling like I had immensely screwed up in everything the entire day. Again I had trouble sleeping, but I was comforted by the knowledge that I would talk to MrDream on Skype, and woke up feeling still drained, but less raw.

Our call was, of course, what I needed.

It was not the kind of call where we dove headfirst into trance. We spent time decompressing and talking, the sort of relaxed conversation I’ve missed so much since not having long time together.

But when he shifted his tone, when I saw his eyes change so subtly, I felt it all, and I felt everything melt away, helpless to it.

--

This trance is so overwhelming, the lowness of his voice, the feather-light touch of it makes me feel as though this is so much more powerful than aggression, as though I am a fluid which yields so much more softly when given the most gentle pressure, and how weak I feel to that.

He talks about how I can feel myself melting into him and suddenly I feel it, I feel the way his body feels. How much he wants me. How much when even I think about him from far away, he feels it, unconsciously, the force of our connection, we can smell each other, we know the weight of each others’ bodies.

Sinking into him. Filled with him. Empty. Deep.

Going through vivid memories of us together, flashbacks to dates that I suddenly am able to access more effectively.

I weep in trance at how precious that is. I weep while aroused as he controls me, even as I feel myself totally slipping away. The tears stop quickly, leaving me with his control.

He is calling back to the podcast that I know he was there to listen to, using my words, using my ideas, the recognition that he is always paying attention.

When he snaps me up, I am a hypnotized wreck, I can’t talk. He has to snap me up again.

“My shoulders are doing the thing,” I say, smiling, finally. “My brain is doing the thing.”

Loosened, relaxed.

--

We talk about how much we miss each other. He future paces gently about what it will be like when we finally see each other. I cry a little bit again, and it’s the first time I’ve acknowledged this thing with tears in front of him.

We banter Erickson at each other -- our ultimate love language.

--

I’m amazed how quickly I fall away when his flirting shifts intent just slightly. I have been going deeper, I have been going away so much further and faster.

He turns me into a cow, all body, no brain, taking over everything. Dumb cow braincells making me all mouth, all pussy, all tits. Calling back to my fey memories, how holographic they are.

Flashback to his apartment and cumming on top of him.

“Feeling the way the light feels,” he says, and it triggers the exact memory of my thought, in his room, when he took something away from me permanently -- ‘I will never forget the way the light looks in this room at this moment.’

“And then fading away even from this much comprehension into the deepest trance.”

Just hypnosis, just mind control. The absolute feeling of that, the way it drugs me.

I am so close to nothing, he is draining me away… Again I have that sense that if he just pushes a little more, I would go, something would happen, I would be totally gone forever… Again, I flash back to another date, the solstice that I did not share, and how close I was…

“You’ve always been a dumb little girl, wanting this so badly…”

Another flashback…

And he wakes me up, and I just stare at him. He makes a whooshing sound.

“Boy, do I miss this,” he says, all low, so turned on. “Gonna shred you so bad.”

I say his name.

“I’m… somewhere,” I manage, softly.

“Me too,” he says.

I’m so completely focused on his face, so completely keyed into his expression, his eyes, just like I would be if we were together, just like I’ve been learning how to do over Skype after all this time.

“Are we just going to spend 15 minutes staring at each other now?” I whisper, locked onto him.

“If we were alone, do you think we would?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say quietly.

We fix on each other, silently, and it is just like we are.

He makes another whooshing sound, and it breaks, and we both laugh a little.

“Well,” he says, “that was two minutes.”

--

“As if a candle can tell that it’s melting.”

I become an object, melting itself, lit by him, finally no longer a person, finally even more easy to exist as a vessel for his control.

“As if you are a candle in the dark night, dripping wax into your hand, thinking about spells and magic…”

Flashback to Samhain, and the frustration.

“Who we are when we are alone, when we are together, even if there are people around, no matter where, we are always in this other world where magic is happening to us both. Knowing we are always connected, knowing we always have this thing, and no one can stop it.”

Flashback to DMDW.

Flashback to flashbacks of DMDW.

Weeping, again, in deep, deep trance, feeling the magic bubble in my body and bubble where the air meets my skin, just for this one moment, so long since I’ve felt it and never over distance like this -- the magic that I will always question, the magic that seems unquestionable when I feel it and then dreamlike, it fades...

He counts me up, and I feel a tightness, and before 5, I whisper his name and ask to stay here, at 4.

--

I have looked at the picture of myself ever so often. The enormous emotional outpouring feels more distant now, and more manageable, but I don’t ever want to forget how hard that day was for me. I don’t ever want to take things for granted ever again.

It makes me so happy that I was able to have meaningful conversations and input at EEEHU, and help people learn, and watch people having fun. I wish I could have been more present, but I know I was doing the right thing by being at home, and not “at the con."

The hypnosis community is so incredibly important to me. I dedicated my first book to it, and surely I will do the same with my next. I believe I was meant to be here. If I believed in destiny, which I do not, I would say that it has been my destiny since I was a tiny little girl, confused and barely conscious of myself.

All I have to say is this: Take care of yourselves. Stay strong, but know you will fail sometimes. Cry. Laugh. Keep in touch.

I will be here.

--

@hypnokinkwithmrdream

#my writing #eeehu #neehu2020 #hypnosis #hypnokink

[zxoms]

MESSY THOUGHTS | J.JK.

written by zxoms

⤷summary: you didn't know love any better. neither of you did. jeongguk didn't know what to think or what to feel. being famous was taking a tool on him.

⤷ idol!au, onenightstands!au

⤷pairing: jeongguk x female reader

⤷word count: 1.5k (it’s more like a drabble sorry)

⤷genre: angst, very little fluff

⤷warnings: very few mentions of sexual intercourse, alcohol and drugs.

⤷ a/n: hii :') this is my first time posting on tumblr so i hope you will like it. i don’t really know how this works but oh well.

ONE SHOT

STARRING JEONGGUK

[lowercase intended]

angels / chase atlantic

nobody told jeongguk he'll get lonely when he gets famous. of course, being an idol has its perks, but he's lonely. it is so very hard to admit even to ourselves that we are lonely - it is far easier to "invent" a myriad of problems that we buy into and encourage others to do the same.

his life is full of people showing a facade of concern for him or his success. no one actually cares. they're after his money or fame, they want exposure. they don't want him, they want the persona he created for himself. oftentimes he's scared to show the real him. he's scared they won't like it and so he stays hidden.

he's gone as far as he can on this path alone. he has learned how to walk alone, how to carry others, how to cope with and solve his problems alone. what's left is a form of loneliness that requires a lover to solve. it's the need for physical closeness, for touch, for emotional warmth from a partner in life.

to be honest, jeongguk actually thought it would be easier finding a lover once he debuts. it's totally the opposite.

he usually got sad and then alcohol came in the equation. "alcohol makes everything a little porny~", he thought.

yugyeom could smell jeongguk's breath from his seated position next to him, thick with alcohol as the maknae breathed heavily, chest heaving up and down so quick that yugyeom nearly thought the male was crying.

"yah," yugyeom tried to catch jeongguk's attention. he failed, the male was still swirling the whiskey bottle looking at the amber-like liquid.

"it's that time of the week.." jeongguk finally whispered back, although not turning to spare even a glance at his friend, "it came fast this time around"

jeongguk sat on the rotting leather chair in his dimly lit office, three ziplock tiny bags full of a green plant sprawled across the desk, even though he had no intetion of using them just yet.

yugyeom was sitting on the bed across from the chair, "gguk maybe it's time to put an end to it, seems like it's eating you alive"

the male sighed. he had given up on the whiskey bottle, and resulted into laying in a hunched position over his desk, clutching his forehead. a headache started to form.

"remember mama 2018? when me and the boys won artist of year?" he started, yugyeom hummed.

"bang pd-nim demanded us to change our phone numbers. again."

"and?"

"i lost all phone numbers, including yours" jeongguk lowly chuckled, "i had to come to jyp to get it again."

yugyeom smiled remembering jeongguk running towards him yelling ' yugyeomie! your number! '

"yeah i remember."

"except.." jeongguk continued.

"except?"

"hers. the only number i haven't changed yet"

jeongguk recalled the moment when he met "her". you were supposed to be a mere one night stand since both of you were equally embarrassed the next morning.

you didn't want people to know. you were embarrassed of him.

he, too, didn't want people to know. he was embarrassed of himself.

you met him at a very strange in his life. pain and pleasure felt the same to the boy. seemed like he lost faith in the word "trust" so when you told him 'let's forget this happened' something snapped in him. jeongguk naturally asked for your phone number, to repeat the experience,of course. you naturally gave it to him for the same purpose.

hook up culture. never using "how are you" or "what's up". it's only about getting in eachother's pants. soon enough, both of you skipped over the small talk. it wasn't about communication no more, it was about both reaching your high in a shady motel you registered in, it was safer this way. you couldn't afford jeongguk's name being associated with renting a cheap room on the outskirts of the city. jeongguk didn't seem to care recently.

he's been sloppy. though, sloppy in this context may seem good there was no room for shallowness. you couldn't risk getting caught. jeongguk couldn't afford a scandal. you stressed double for both of you.

jeongguk on the other hand seemed to enjoy you stressing. he felt human for once. the sheer thought of fucking up big time was able to give him a reality check. jeon jeongguk can, in fact, fuck up. he's allowed to, he's human and he liked that. he liked your little secret, maybe too much at times. he grew used to your touch even though he barely knew your name after all this time.

ironic. it's ironic how he's not sure if you prefer purple over blue, but he knows your sensitive spots. it's true he never bothered to get to know such trivial details, but he was still thinking about it from time to time.

you two can't even be called friends with benefits since your knowledge of eachother can't be covered by the word friends.

acquaintances with benefits.

sometimes he hated that. hated the fact that the person he's been closest with, physically, has such a depthless emotional connection with him.

there were times when he overthinked it. the male couldn't help it, it was in his very nature. jeongguk is sensitive, he naturally grew a level of attached to you. the level of attached that requires him sitting alone with a glass of vodka, thinking.

"sometimes i look at the bottom of the glass and wonder why it's empty and why can i see through it..." he trailed off and began to swirl the glass between his fingers. again. yet he couldn't help, but smirk at his pathetic position.

"then i remember love in my career patch almost never works out. maybe when it works out the sky is bluer and love songs stop being cheesy, they start making sense." he sighs, "but i can't possibly have that so i start to fill my glass again."

sometimes jeongguk just gets in the mood to spill his brain to you. most of the time, he stops his impulses, but today, right now, his thumb was hovering over the call button. the contact was you.

he really wanted to pull away, but the alcohol told him not to.

it rang and rang and jeongguk was getting discouraged.

"hey."

"hey."

silence.

"if you're not busy, take a walk with me"

"jeongguk, it’s one in the morning.."

"please y/n.."

CALL ENDED.

you've held back calling him as you tried to be understanding, knowinh how busy he is, though he called you for a walk. you pulled your hood over your head in an attempt warm yourself still confused. jeongguk never asks for walks.

"hey" a male said and you instantly recognized the voice you grew way familiar with.

you two walked for a little until it was decided to climb on a building. jeongguk laid on his back, shifting around uncomfortably on the cement rooftop. he was in an impasse. tonight alcohol was just not drowning away his thoughts.

"nobody told me it gets lonely when you're famous" he broke the silence. you didn't shift, waited for him to continue. "everybody loves you, but not really"

"it's like a tailor, almost. everybody loves the dress, but not necessarily the residue material left or the material cut during the process. it's always about the fucking dress, y/n"

you sighed, moving closer to the boy's side in an attempt to comfort him in an odd way. you usually just fuck. little did you know that it wasn't working. it took you a while for you to realise the wetness pooling under his eyelashes.

"jeongguk.."

he didn't know any better. jeongguk didn't know what love is. he thinks he knows, but he doesn't.

love is not sex.

love is sweet, yet more as fresh fruit than candy or confectionary. love is colourful, yet more as summer blooms than the neon lights of frenetic city streets. love is steady and forgiving, yet more as the wise mother than the servant in chains. love hears and speaks with the wisdom of the heart, with a sense of the soul of the other. in love we have our "forever home" and it gives us the ability to fly so freely, joyfully returning when each heart calls for the other's touch.

love is not sneaky links at shady motels, yet he didn't know that. all he knew was you and you were the closest thing to his definition of love. you were for him like a cake he loves and keeps buying. he doesn't know the recipe nor he does care. he's just used to that cake. he's used to you, he finds comfort in you even if it's just sex. jeongguk thinks sex is love and love is sex.

"i think i love you, y/n"

#jungkook #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #drabble #jungkook oneshot #bts one shot #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook x reader

[mikeholdher]

Here’s the problem...

Instead of debating, arguing, or whatever you call it for simple understanding. People always want to be a clear winner. So from that point forward you undermine the whole conversation.

You aren’t listening for understanding anymore. You’re listening so you can respond. And when that happens you cloud your own judgement and ability to think rationally. Something someone said that makes perfect logical sense you write off completely cause it doesn’t fit your narrative or if you agree with them you feel like you are losing.

I really wish less people had this mindset cause it ruins not only so many potential friendships but also the opportunity to mentally grow. You can learn so much from other people if you just listen with an open mind. 

Scenario from earlier:

“Well I’m not going to date a tumblr person ever so...”

“Out of curiosity why is it a bad thing that I have a Tumblr??? Like what is a Tumblr person? So if I didn’t have a Tumblr you wouldn’t care?”

“Nvm. Too much to explain u won’t get it.”

“Thanks for insulting my intelligence there. So instead of explaining it and helping me to better understand something. He won’t get it... I'm not going to push the subject anymore. It's obvious I'm not worth your time or the explanation. I honestly pray your situation gets better and you find whatever it is you're looking for.”

“See what I mean ? U spin it to make yourself the victim. I dont date people I meet on tumblr. That's just my rule. There happy ?”

“See here's the problem. You're speaking from a place where there needs to be a clear winner and clear loser in this conversation...meanwhile I'm just trying to better understand a situation. I don't care if I lose. I can admit I'm wrong. I can agree with someone even if the outcome isn't ideal for me. I'm not sure you can do the same. In all seriousness I'm not being sarcastic here or trolling.You're right you don't owe me an explanation. I asked and instead of saying no. You told me I wouldn't get it.Those are two completely different answers. One simply says no. The other says I won't tell you cause you won't understand.There is no victim card there. It's a simple fact...you think I lack the capacity to understand = insulting my intelligence. How is that playing the victim?”

“It's like like a teacher going through a whole lesson...getting to the end and a student raises his hand and ask them to elaborate on something. And the teacher tells them they wouldn't understand...that's exactly what it is.

 “ Ok.”

“We went through this whole talk earlier and this whole time you still think its because i want to make you feel inferior or force you to date me...that's the sad part about it.”

“I'm already off that. I'm thinking in terms of how I can better understand you. or any female for that matter so that it doesn't happen in the future.”

“ Like am I making any sense at all? “

And to be honest with you after reading I come off as condescending I think. And it’s not intentional at all. It’s a literal condition that I have from going through chemo and radiation that messes with my short term memory. So I struggle to get my point across.and have to re explain stuff I tell everyone this ahead of time and it’s like they just ignore it. It’s why I tell everyone I hate texting...verbal communication with tones and inflection are so much easier for me. It’s not me being creepy or trying to finessed a phone number or anything it’s legit an easier form of communication.

It’s frustrating getting profiled cause I’m a Male over the internet who slides in a DM and no matter what I say people don’t believe me.

I’m getting off topic. But the point I was trying to make is that everyone is so stuck in an “I don’t owe you an explanation,” mode or “you wouldn’t understand.” That it hurts society as a whole.If people were more open about sharing experiences and facing their traumas they’d realize a lot of the things they go through some of the people right next to them deal with as well. Anxiety, depression, feelings of loneliness, inadequacy, unrequited love, irritability, financial instability, and whatever else you can think of.

Like whenever someone ask me about cancer even though I’m still processing things from it I don’t turn them away. It makes things easier honestly. I get things out that have been weighing on my mind and stopping me from moving forward. And they learn more about something they are curious about. It’s a win win scenario.

   “You are living proof that life is tough. It takes a incredibly strong person to fight like you did and continue to fight when your world is turned upside down. Seeing you fight is inspiring and makes me appreciate every little thing so much more. Bro if you ever need somebody to talk to, a ear to vent to or just somebody to bullshit with I’m here. I know we’ve never met and we don’t really know each other that well. But just know I care about you and that’s the least i could do, in return for the way you inspire the world.” - Frankie

    “You are a fighter. Your mentality, positivity and strength throughout this difficult time has been an inspiration!” - Nikki  

    “Legit you’re put thru trials because you can handle them.you are an amazing individual for having the strength you have and you inspire me!everyday is a blessing not a guarantee. Stay strong brother you’ve made an impact on this life” - Andrew

    “Damn man that last part hits different cause I always talk about how I just want to change people's lives and just be a positive influence. I'm glad to hear that. Let's me know I'm making progress on being a better version of myself. Not only that but making sure the people around me feel the same way.” - me

    “Yes sir I’m aware about the people around me trust I’ve had a very interesting up bringing and I notice peoples struggles. And I’m open to peoples struggles. Your story is inspiring and I love that! You have affected me in a positive way so thank you 🙏🏾 you’re a fighter and I respect and admire that more than anything” - Andrew

      “Thank you for the warning. More thankful for the sharing of honest words and REAL photos. While you may struggle with pride, your willingness to be vulnerable is admirable. Keep sharing. Keep fighting. ❤️.” - Kelli

These aren’t even half the people that I’ve talked to or shared my experience with. But each and every one of them has made this a lot easier to deal with. Now Imagine going through all of this alone. If I would have turned everyone away because I thought they were all the same.

So please don’t judge people from jump and assume that they are all the same. We aren’t. With everything going on in my life it’s a waste of energy to be petty, negative, or manipulative. It only hurts me in the long run cause I lose out on life changing experiences. And I know better than anyone tomorrow isn’t promised so I have to live in the moment.

“You have about 4 weeks to live...”

“This is above my pay grade so I have to send you up the road.”

“We’ll do our best to save your eye and make sure we don’t damage the brain.”

“We don’t know what it is. Cause it behaves like fibrous dysplasia but that take years to grow. This keeps coming back in months.”

“He’s coding... What happened?” passes out*

“He’s not responding to the epi pen.”

The list goes on...

#Me #Personal #Fuck Cancer #chivalry isnt dead #dating #relationships #friendships

[cannabisrefugee-esq]

(via A "Rational Suicide" Note. Ft. Anne Örtegren.)

November 9, 2019

This is a “suicide” note left by a ME/CFS sufferer who sought and found relief from her suffering via legal, medically assisted suicide.  She says this manifesto took her months to write, which I do not doubt a bit: it is long, detailed and polished and was written when she was feeling terrible.  She wrote it with the intent to describe her almost indescribable pain and experience, and to convince others to take action on behalf of ME/CFS sufferers, both of which are lofty communication goals when anyone is seriously ill.

Describing and convincing have been my most impossible endeavors since I’ve been seriously ill myself and I think I have mostly failed, judging by others’ reactions to everything I’ve managed to gather the physical and emotional grit to attempt to communicate: that I am seriously, hopelessly ill with an incurable, progressive disease, that there is no bottom to how bad this can get, and it matters not what anyone thinks about it.  Some things are just true regardless of whether anyone believes it.

In this note, ME/CFS patient Anne Örtegren describes symptoms and dilemmas I have experienced myself and she foresees logical outcomes to her predicament, something sick people and especially sick women are never allowed to do because catastrophization. For example, she knows that her heightened sensitivity to light and sound will make treatment or recovery in a hospital setting impossible where the standard of care in that environment requires constant activity and interruptions, and provides no privacy and no escape from the harsh industrial lighting, interrogations by (allegedly) well meaning staff and the general hustle and bustle of capitalistic money making on the backs and bodies of sick and dying people.

That is but one example of a sick person making informed prognostications regarding likely outcomes of the things other people want to do to us, and as someone who shares these sensitivities to light and sound (and therefore an aversion to hospital settings) as but one example of our shared experience of being seriously ill, I appreciated her spelling it out.  I also feel extremely sad that she had to, and furious that no one who allegedly cared about her wellbeing including medical professionals who should be fucking sensitive to the actual needs of real patients could make the leap themselves.  There are many such examples in this letter.

See for yourselves, and understand that as illuminating and raw as this letter is, it’s also been edited by the publisher and a so-called suicide prevention expert because the bottom line everywhere appears to be that there is no such thing as rational suicide or euthanasia because well people and people who make money off of the long-term sick and dying say so.  And because living in this capitalistic, patriarchal nightmare is so hideous for so many people that “suicide contagion” exists, where just knowing that someone, somewhere had whatever it took to end themselves is likely to cause untold numbers of happy, healthy consumers with bright futures to do the same damn thing.  Yeah that’s it, let’s keep telling ourselves that.

The letter as published is reprinted below.  The unedited letter supposedly exists online somewhere if anyone cares to look and has the energy to figure out how and where the edited version differs from the original.  Comments are open below.

Farewell – A Last Post from Anne Örtegren

Nobody can say that I didn’t put up enough of a fight.

For 16 years I have battled increasingly severe ME/CFS. My condition has steadily deteriorated and new additional medical problems have regularly appeared, making it ever more difficult to endure and make it through the day (and night).

Throughout this time, I have invested almost every bit of my tiny energy in the fight for treatment for us ME/CFS patients. Severely ill, I have advocated from my bedroom for research and establishment of biomedical ME/CFS clinics to get us proper health care. All the while, I have worked hard to find something which would improve my own health. I have researched all possible treatment options, got in contact with international experts and methodically tried out every medication, supplement and regimen suggested.

Sadly, for all the work done, we still don’t have adequately sized specialized biomedical care for ME/CFS patients here in Stockholm, Sweden – or hardly anywhere on the planet. We still don’t have in-patient hospital units adapted to the needs of the severely ill ME/CFS patients. Funding levels for biomedical ME/CFS research remain ridiculously low in all countries and the erroneous psychosocial model which has caused me and others so much harm is still making headway.

And sadly, for me personally things have gone from bad to worse to unbearable. I am now mostly bedbound and constantly tortured by ME/CFS symptoms. I also suffer greatly from a number of additional medical problems, the most severe being a systematic hyper-reactivity in the form of burning skin combined with an immunological/allergic reaction. This is triggered by so many things that it has become impossible to create an adapted environment. Some of you have followed my struggle to find clothes and bed linen I can tolerate. Lately, I am simply running out. I no longer have clothes I can wear without my skin “burning up” and my body going into an allergic state.

This means I no longer see a way out from this solitary ME/CFS prison and its constant torture. I can no longer even do damage control, and my body is at the end of its rope. Therefore, I have gone through a long and thorough process involving several medical assessments to be able to choose a peaceful way out: I have received a preliminary green light for accompanied suicide through a clinic in Switzerland.

When you read this I am at rest, free from suffering at last. I have written this post to explain why I had to take this drastic step. Many ME/CFS patients have found it necessary to make the same decision, and I want to speak up for us, as I think my reasons may be similar to those of many others with the same sad destiny.

These reasons can be summed up in three headers: unbearable suffering; no realistic way out of the suffering; and the lack of a safety net, meaning potential colossal increase in suffering when the next setback or medical incident occurs.

Important note Before I write more about these reasons, I want to stress something important. Depression is not the cause of my choice. Though I have been suffering massively for many years, I am not depressed. I still have all my will and my motivation. I still laugh and see the funny side of things, I still enjoy doing whatever small activities I can manage. I am still hugely interested in the world around me – my loved ones and all that goes on in their lives, the society, the world (what is happening in human rights issues? how can we solve the climate change crisis?) During these 16 years, I have never felt any lack of motivation.

On the contrary, I have consistently fought for solutions with the goal to get myself better and help all ME/CFS patients get better. There are so many things I want to do, I have a lot to live for. If I could only regain some functioning, quieten down the torture a bit and be able to tolerate clothes and a normal environment, I have such a long list of things I would love to do with my life!

Three main reasons So depression is not the reason for my decision to terminate my life. The reasons are the following:

1. Unbearable suffering Many severely ill ME/CFS patients are hovering at the border of unbearable suffering. We are constantly plagued by intense symptoms, we endure high-impact every-minute physical suffering 24 hours a day, year after year. I see it as a prison sentence with torture. I am homebound and mostly bedbound – there is the prison. I constantly suffer from excruciating symptoms: The worst flu you ever had. Sore throat, bronchi hurting with every breath. Complete exhaustion, almost zero energy, a body that weighs a tonne and sometimes won’t even move. Muscle weakness, dizziness, great difficulties standing up. Sensory overload causing severe suffering from the brain and nervous system. Massive pain in muscles, painful inflammations in muscle attachments. Intensely burning skin. A feeling of having been run over by a bus, twice, with every cell screaming. This has got to be called torture.

It would be easier to handle if there were breaks, breathing spaces. But with severe ME/CFS there is no minute during the day when one is comfortable. My body is a war zone with constant firing attacks. There is no rest, no respite. Every move of every day is a mountain-climb. Every night is a challenge, since there is no easy sleep to rescue me from the torture. I always just have to try to get through the night. And then get through the next day.

It would also be easier if there were distractions. Like many patients with severe ME/CFS I am unable to listen to music, radio, podcasts or audio books, or to watch TV. I can only read for short bouts of time, and use the computer for even shorter moments. I am too ill to manage more than rare visits or phone calls from my family and friends, and sadly unable to live with someone. This solitary confinement aspect of ME/CFS is devastating and it is understandable that ME/CFS has been described as the “living death disease”.

For me personally, the situation has turned into an emergency not least due to my horrific symptom of burning skin linked to immunological/allergic reactions. This appeared six years into my ME/CFS, when I was struck by what seemed like a complete collapse of the bodily systems controlling immune system, allergic pathways, temperature control, skin and peripheral nerves. I had long had trouble with urticaria, hyperreactive skin and allergies, but at this point a violent reaction occurred and my skin completely lost tolerance. I started having massively burning skin, severe urticaria and constant cold sweats and shivers (these reactions reminded me of the first stages of the anaphylactic shock I once had, then due to heat allergy).

Since then, for ten long years, my skin has been burning. It is an intense pain. I have been unable to tolerate almost all kinds of clothes and bed linen as well as heat, sun, chemicals and other everyday things. These all trigger the burning skin and the freezing/shivering reaction into a state of extreme pain and suffering. Imagine being badly sunburnt and then being forced to live under a constant scalding sun – no relief in sight.

At first I managed to find a certain textile fabric which I could tolerate, but then this went out of production, and in spite of years of negotiations with the textile industry it has, strangely, proven impossible to recreate that specific weave. This has meant that as my clothes have been wearing out, I have been approaching the point where I will no longer have clothes and bed linen that are tolerable to my skin. It has also become increasingly difficult to adapt the rest of my living environment so as to not trigger the reaction and worsen the symptoms. Now that I am running out of clothes and sheets, ahead of me has lain a situation with constant burning skin and an allergic state of shivering/cold sweats and massive suffering. This would have been absolutely unbearable.

For 16 years I have had to manage an ever-increasing load of suffering and problems. They now add up to a situation which is simply no longer sustainable.

2. No realistic way out of the suffering A very important factor is the lack of realistic hope for relief in the future. It is possible for a person to bear a lot of suffering, as long as it is time-limited. But the combination of massive suffering and a lack of rational hope for remission or recovery is devastating.

Think about the temporary agony of a violent case of gastric flu. Picture how you are feeling those horrible days when you are lying on the bathroom floor between attacks of diarrhoea and vomiting. This is something we all have to live through at times, but we know it will be over in a few days. If someone told you at that point: “you will have to live with this for the rest of your life”, I am sure you would agree that it wouldn’t feel feasible. It is unimaginable to cope with a whole life with the body in that insufferable state every day, year after year. The level of unbearableness in severe ME/CFS is the same.

If I knew there was relief on the horizon, it would be possible to endure severe ME/CFS and all the additional medical problems, even for a long time, I think. The point is that there has to be a limit, the suffering must not feel endless.

One vital aspect here is of course that patients need to feel that the ME/CFS field is being taken forward. Sadly, we haven’t been granted this feeling – see my previous blogs relating to this here and here.

Another imperative issue is the drug intolerance that I and many others with ME/CFS suffer from. I have tried every possible treatment, but most of them have just given me side-effects, many of which have been irreversible. My stomach has become increasingly dysfunctional, so for the past few years any new drugs have caused immediate diarrhoea. One supplement triggered massive inflammation in my entire urinary tract, which has since persisted. The list of such occurrences of major deterioration caused by different drugs/treatments is long, and with time my reactions have become increasingly violent. I now have to conclude that my sensitivity to medication is so severe that realistically it is very hard for me to tolerate drugs or supplements.

This has two crucial meanings for many of us severely ill ME/CFS patients: There is no way of relieving our symptoms. And even if treatments appear in the future, with our sensitivity of medication any drug will carry a great risk of irreversible side-effects producing even more suffering. This means that even in the case of a real effort finally being made to bring biomedical research into ME/CFS up to levels on par with that of other diseases, and possible treatments being made accessible, for some of us it is unlikely that we would be able to benefit. Considering our extreme sensitivity to medication, one could say it’s hard to have realistic hope of recovery or relief for us.

In the past couple of years I, being desperate, have challenged the massive side-effect risk and tried one of the treatments being researched in regards to ME/CFS. But I received it late in the disease process, and it was a gamble. I needed it to have an almost miraculous effect: a quick positive response which eliminated many symptoms – most of all I needed it to stop my skin from burning and reacting, so I could tolerate the clothes and bed linen produced today. I have been quickly running out of clothes and sheets, so I was gambling with high odds for a quick and extensive response. Sadly, I wasn’t a responder. I have also tried medication for Mast Cell Activation Disorder and a low-histamine diet, but my burning skin hasn’t abated. Since I am now running out of clothes and sheets, all that was before me was constant burning hell.

3. The lack of a safety net, meaning potential colossal increase in suffering when the next setback or medical incident occurs The third factor is the insight that the risk for further deterioration and increased suffering is high.

On top of the nearly unbearable symptoms it is very likely that in the future things will get even worse. An example in my case could be my back and neck pain. I would need to strengthen muscles to prevent them from getting worse. But the characteristic symptom of Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM) when I attempt even small activities, is hugely problematic.

Whenever we try to ignore the PEM issue and push through, we immediately crash and become much sicker. We might go from being able to at least get up and eat, to being completely bedbound, until the PEM has subsided. Sometimes, it doesn’t subside, and we find ourselves irreversibly deteriorated, at a new, even lower baseline level, with no way of improving.

PEM is not something that you can work around.

For me, new medical complications also continue to arise, and I have no way of amending them. I already need surgery for one existing problem, and it is likely that it will be needed for other issues in the future, but surgery or hospital care is not feasible for several reasons:

One is that my body seems to lack repairing mechanisms. Previous biopsies have not healed properly, so my doctor is doubtful about my ability to recover after surgery.

Another, more general and hugely critical, is that with severe ME/CFS it is impossible to tolerate normal hospital care. For ME/CFS patients the sensory overload problem and the extremely low energy levels mean that a normal hospital environment causes major deterioration. The sensory input that comes with shared rooms, people coming and going, bright lights, noise, etc, escalates our disease. We are already in such fragile states that a push in the wrong direction is catastrophic. For me, with my burning skin issue, there is also the issue of not tolerating the mattresses, pillows, textile fabrics, etc used in a hospital.

Just imagine the effects of a hospital stay for me: It would trigger my already severe ME/CFS into new depths – likely I would become completely bedbound and unable to tolerate any light or noise. The skin hyperreactivity would, within a few hours, trigger my body into an insufferable state of burning skin and agonizing immune-allergic reactions, which would then be impossible to reverse. My family, my doctor and I agree: I must never be admitted to a hospital, since there is no end to how much worse that would make me.

Many ME/CFS patients have experienced irreversible deterioration due to hospitalization. We also know that the understanding of ME/CFS is extremely low or non-existent in most hospitals, and we hear about ME/CFS patients being forced into environments or activities which make them much worse. I am aware of only two places in the world with specially adjusted hospital units for severe ME/CFS, Oslo, Norway, and Gold Coast, Australia. We would need such units in every city around the globe.

It is extreme to be this severely ill, have so many medical complications arise continually and know this: There is no feasible access to hospital care for me. There are no tolerable medications to use when things get worse or other medical problems set in. As a severely ill ME/CFS patient I have no safety net at all. There is simply no end to how bad things can get with severe ME/CFS.

Coping skills – important but not enough I realize that when people hear about my decision to terminate my life, they will wonder about my coping skills. I have written about this before and I want to mention the issue here too:

While it was extremely hard at the beginning to accept chronic illness, I have over the years developed a large degree of acceptance and pretty good coping skills. I have learnt to accept tight limits and appreciate small qualities of life. I have learnt to cope with massive amounts of pain and suffering and still find bright spots. With the level of acceptance I have come to now, I would have been content even with relatively small improvements and a very limited life. If, hypothetically, the physical suffering could be taken out of the equation, I would have been able to live contentedly even though my life continued to be restricted to my small apartment and include very little activity. Unlike most people I could find such a tiny life bearable and even happy. But I am not able to cope with these high levels of constant physical suffering.

In short, to sum up my level of acceptance as well as my limit: I can take the prison and the extreme limitations – but I can no longer take the torture. And I cannot live with clothes that constantly trigger my burning skin.

Not alone – and not a rash decision In spite of being unable to see friends or family for more than rare and brief visits, and in spite of having limited capacity for phone conversations, I still have a circle of loved ones. My friends and family all understand my current situation and they accept and support my choice. While they do not want me to leave, they also do not want me to suffer anymore.

This is not a rash decision. It has been processed for many years, in my head, in conversations with family and friends, in discussion with one of my doctors, and a few years ago in the long procedure of requesting accompanied suicide. The clinic in Switzerland requires an extensive process to ensure that the patient is chronically ill, lives with unendurable pain or suffering, and has no realistic hope of relief. They require a number of medical records as well as consultations with specialized doctors.

For me this end is obviously not what I wanted, but it was the best solution to an extremely difficult situation and preferable to even more suffering. It was not hasty choice, but one that matured over a long period of time.

A plea to decision makers – Give ME/CFS patients a future! As you understand, this blog post has taken me many months to put together. It is a long text to read too, I know. But I felt it was important to write it and have it published to explain why I personally had to take this step, and hopefully illuminate why so many ME/CFS patients consider or commit suicide.

And most importantly: to elucidate that this circumstance can be changed! But that will take devoted, resolute, real action from all of those responsible for the state of ME/CFS care, ME/CFS research and dissemination of information about the disease. Sadly, this responsibility has been mishandled for decades. To allow ME/CFS patients some hope on the horizon, key people in all countries must step up and act.

If you are a decision maker, here is what you urgently need to do: You need to bring funding for biomedical ME/CFS research up so it’s on par with comparable diseases (as an example, in the US that would mean $188 million per year). You need to make sure there are dedicated hospital care units for ME/CFS inpatients in every city around the world. You need to establish specialist biomedical care available to all ME/CFS patients; it should be as natural as RA patients having access to a rheumatologist or cancer patients to an oncologist. You need to give ME/CFS patients a future.

Please listen to these words of Jen Brea, which sum up the situation in the US, but are applicable to almost every country:

“The NIH says it won’t fund ME research because no one wants to study it. Yet they reject the applications of the world class scientists who are committed to advancing the field. Meanwhile, HHS has an advisory committee whose sole purpose seems to be making recommendations that are rarely adopted. There are no drugs in the pipeline at the FDA yet the FDA won’t approve the one drug, Ampligen, that can have Lazarus-like effects in some patients. Meanwhile, the CDC continues to educate doctors using information that we (patients) all know is inaccurate or incomplete.”

Like Jen Brea, I want a number of people from these agencies, and equivalent agencies in Sweden and all other countries, to stand up and take responsibility. To say: “ME! I am going to change things because that is my job.”

And lastly Lastly, I would like to end this by linking to this public comment from a US agency meeting (CFSAC). It seems to have been taken off the HHS site, but I found it in the Google Read version of the book “Lighting Up a Hidden World: CFS and ME” by Valerie Free. It includes testimony from two very eloquent ME patients and it says it all. I thank these ME patients for expressing so well what we are experiencing.

My previous blog posts:

From International Traveler to 43 Square Meters: An ME/CFS Story From Sweden

Coping With ME/CFS Will Always Be Hard – But There are Ways of Making It A Little Easier

The Underfinanced ME/CFS Research Field Pt I: The Facts – Plus “What Can We Do?

The Underfinanced ME/CFS Research Field Pt II: Why it Takes 20 Years to Get 1 Year’s Research Done

Take care of each other.

Love, Anne

Comments Open.

#finance #health #Healthcare #medicine #autoimmune disease #capitalistic patriarchical medicine #family and friends #ME/CFS #research

[aroll765]

Covid-19 and Me

Welcome to my blog about Covid-19 and Me. I’m Amanda. and it’s nice of you to stop by. I hope you’re staying safe, well, and AT HOME. Fun fact I love to write so this is looooong blog but I wanted to describe as much as I could to help someone and remember this intense scary time in our World. The last few days have been a whirlwind. I’m honestly still trying to wrap my brain around it, I’ve been extremely calm yet to panic or be in fear, I’ve found my zen place and by some miracle have been able to stay there even when I feel myself slipping ( crazy right? The anxious drama queen is the most calm out of everyone) but others not so much. I would rather you pray or send amazing positive good vibes to my family and friends that are extremely worrie, despite then playing it cool to me, my empath skills can pick up on everything and I know they are not okay, so send those prayers and good positive calming vibes to them cuz I got this. Okay here goes I want to be as detail oriented as possible. So put on some music, grab a cocktail, and read. I’m writing this, as an awesome friend suggested, so I can let you know how getting Covid-19 is for me. What happened, my symptoms, the onset of everything, the process, and hopefully I can ease someone else’s fear, anxiety, or save their life. Even if I help one person, than to me I’ll swallow all my insecurities about sharing my journey and putting everything out their for the world and I know it”ll be worth it. I know I’ll have haters too, but let them hate. We only drive out negativity and hate with love. So, yes I honestly didn’t want to share anything. I know people will judge me. It’s a very private personal matter. I don’t want more people worried about me than need to be or cause more fear, panic, paranoia, or be judged honestly. But again even if this helps only one, then okay it’s worth it to me. This is extremely serious not only in our community, but we here in the United States are the leading number of cases in the world, and I believe we haven’t even seen the impact yet. So yes it’s serious and it needs to be taken as such. STAY HOME! Stay safe. Stay healthy. I did everything as I was supposed to and I still got it but that doesn’t mean you will. Monday I was in my feels and sent my best friends videos on why I loved them, what they mean to me, and just had to express it. It’s like my body and intuition already knew I had it, I just didn’t pick up on it. Weird, maybe, but I am a very emotional sensitive loving person so telling people what they mean to me is really not out of the norm but sending 3-5 minute long videos is. I believe I am so sick so I can help spread awareness and help others take it serious! So one thing you should know is when I get sick, I do it right. I get real sick. I’ve had tummy issues for over a week now, I knew a sinus infection was coming over last weekend, as I rarely get them in my maxillary sinuses, but with the weather changes I thought okay...here we go. Then I had a lingering migraine for days it comes and goes and it’s nothing like my normal ones. It’s on the top of my head and the back of my skull and it comes in waves or a constant pain. But no vision loss, sensitive to sound, just very odd and different but painful. Monday I was feeling yucky and couldn’t get my sinus rinses to go threw, could tell I was swollen, bit of a sore throat but pushed thru. Wednesday awful migraine and extreme sinus pressure. When I get sinus infections they are normally my upper sinuses not the ones in my cheeks, but not this one. I was struggling. Thursday I woke up and knew I was for real sick and something was a bit off. It was sinus infection and probably bronchitis cuz it had moved in my airways but what is this horrid punching pain feeling in my back? My chest was tight. Dry cough. Terrible sore throat. Fever ,I think I lost or broke mine and haven’t bought a new one, cuz I was warm to touch but freezing. Felt achey and overall rough...but I had not slept very much or well. Regardless, I know my body well and I called my Dr. she was available within 30 minutes to have an appointment over the phone! We talked and she said it could be my usual stuff (sinusitis/bronchitis or walking pneumonia) but I also had symptoms of covid-19 so I would need to be screened. My inhaler I was trying to use it but having difficulty because I would start to cough so bad. I couldn’t get a deep enough breath. I do have medicine for a nebulizer but not the machine. A coworker has offered to let me borrow one if I needed it a few weeks ago when we were planning for this, but if I have corona virus I wasn’t leaving my home and risking getting others sick. Plus, if I couldn’t breathe to get the inhaler how would I breathe with the machine. I didn’t want to risk leaving my home really so I didn’t. She recommended I also buy a thingy they put on your finger to monitor your oxygen/heart rate, but warned me I wouldn’t be able to find one. So to look online and invest in one for the future and also a nebulizer and gave me some great advice. I get this about two maybe three times a year so it’s a good investment. She said to try and keep using the inhaler but not push it and called me in medicine (steroid and zpack) and to do the screening for Covid-19. She told me what app to download and so I did and logged in, and did the virtual screening process, it’s kinda like FaceTime! Super easy and you talk to a nurse. We were chatting, I answered questions, she had me walk around my home, did a certain breathing test—-the goal is to get to 30 and I only got to 10, she said I need to put you on hold a minute and I’ll be right back. She was so sweet and kind and I thanked her for working just like I did my Dr. She came back and the dr she was talking to over the phone at the hospital wanted me to come to the hospital. The dr hung up and the nurse said do you want to come or ride it out at home? I was like wait, what? She said the dr wants you to come in because of your breathing she’s marked you as severe case. You can’t walk to your bathroom without getting out of breath, coughing, wheezing so it’s a concern. I said no no I want to stay home and she agreed that was best, and changed me to moderate. She told me she had spoke to someone before me that was much worse that also decided to ride it out at home and this person was much older. I was like okay. Cool. I said ya sure? She said yes I think it’s best I’ve been doing this for weeks and yes you’re not well but if I didn’t have it I would be subjecting myself to more germs while sick, and I’m more comfortable at home and can rest easier. She told me if I got worse or trouble breathing to call back and they would arrange with the ER my arrival, if there wasn’t time and I needed to call 911 I would have to tell them I failed the screening and have Covid-19 symptoms so they could prepare themselves. I said so wait, I have it? She said you have all but one symptom, vomiting. Which I had done with the migraine. So basically yes but they only do screening and tests are limited and sent me a note in the app inbox and told me what to do and self quarantine for 7 days. She said they are there whenever and to call back the virtual screening and talk to a nurse if I needed to. (The 7 days is if you’re in a home with anyone else you HAVE to be in an isolated room and bathroom so no one else can get it) you also need to stay away from pets. I asked her how? I explained my cat is my life and she said well just don’t let the animal eat after you. Ewww I don’t do that anyway. After 7 days you quarantine for the additional 14-21 days. This 7 day thing is very confusing to some. I called back later that night with more questions. That nurse answered my questions and said even if I had come in there was no guarantee I would have been tested. You’re only tested if admitted. Testing is for the medical staff and high risk patients but to call my Dr in the morning, saying I failed the screening I have all but one symptom, and they should give me the test. Okay. So finally drifted off to sleep around 5/6am. It was an awful night. But surpassingly I still had not freaked out, cried, panicked, or had anxiety or anything, I was more worried about my loved ones and how they were handling this. I wake up Friday and I feel even worse. Like a plane and a train have hit me and ran me over. The pain in my back is like bricks are now punching me, someone is laying on the back of my chest, my chest is so tight and I’m getting sharp pains in my back and chest randomly. Mainly left back around shoulder blade and right front chest area, I can’t smell anything, taste is off but occasionally I can taste, I am wheezing no matter what. I’m sneezing. My throat feels like sandpaper fire, it’s just rough. I couldn’t get a deep enough breathe yesterday for my inhaler to get down into my lungs and today was extremely painful I just coughed trying to breathe before doing it. Tried again and coughed so bad I was dizzy. But, positive thoughts positive mind so I try and fake out my parents and called them each and told them I was feeling okay and trying to downplay it, so they could stop worrying. They don’t need to worry cuz I’m fine. I’m totes fine, just the normal crud right. So I change jammies and get ready for work at home. Oh, sitting up is awful!!! I’m nausea and dizzy and wow this is bad. But I can work I got this. But first I call my Dr. I’m getting that test!!! My Dr is working from home today...but they are amazing at the office and she said she would get to the bottom of this and figure out what to do and get back to me. Yes, I thanked her for working. You’ll see this is a pattern. It’s hard to breathe, I’m in so much pain but I’m okay, I can do this I keep telling myself. But I honestly know I’m different than ”normal stuff”. I see the Dr office is calling back, it’s someone else. She starts talking to me and we’re talking and she says Amanda, I’m looking at your chart and you were screened yesterday? I said yes. I failed. She said failed? I said I have all but one symptom. She said I am going to call the on call Dr and call you right back! Don’t put your phone down. I’m like ohhhh I bet they found me a test hahaha sweet. She called back fast. She said you need to get to the ER right now. I said ummm what? No no. I’m riding this out at home. We talked yesterday the screening nurses it’s all worked out. She said no, you have to go right now to the er your symptoms are worse, you’re wheezing and chest is tight, this virus moves fast and you could die. Go now! I said uhhh what!? But are you calling or do I or do I call the screening nurses cuz they said I can’t just show up we have to alert the er, I’m starting to spin, she interrupts me and said there’s no time...it’s fine GO NOW! I’m referring you and we are your PCP Office and they referred you back to us so we are telling you go now, By golly I’ve never put a mask and shoes on so fast and driven to the er that fast in my life. I sent out texts to those who had been chatting with me, And I called my dad. I knew if I heard my mom I was going to breakdown. So I had to call my dad and told him as calmly as I could that I was en route to the er per the dr office telling me I had to go right now because the virus moves fast and he said okay glad you’re going and I’ll tell mom just go and keep us updated. You grabbed your phone charger right? I was like ummm no. Crap but I’m fully charged love you!!! Then my bestie called me as I was pulling in. I shouldn’t have answered but knew she was worried! But that’s when I got a little scared and started crying. She assured me I was in the best hands and it would be okay. But pulling into the hospital parking lot it was so empty, a police vehicle had one of the entrances blocked off, we chatted and I cried and we said I love you. I walked in. That was a difficult walk. I tried to be calm but it was hard to breathe. I just kept thinking this is the longest walk ever! It was surreal to be there. I entered through the ER department, per my drs office telling me to go in there. You’re greeted by a security guard wearing a mask. I said I have covid-19 symptoms and was told to get to the ER now, he said please go in. I said thank you for working! I got a mask when I was in the waiting room of the lobby answering questions and I was the only one in there. A lady was there when I walked in but left and I could tell she was scared and I stayed as far back as I could from absolutely anyone and everyone! I thanked those working! I had to answer many questions and I was so winding I squatted down. I didn’t want to touch or sit down anywhere in case I did have corona virus...but man standing is hard. The nurse was working as quickly as she could. I was nervous and couldn’t think straight. They gave me a mask immediately too and I put it on wrong. A nice male nurse came out to the lobby and fixed it for me and put it on correctly while wearing gloves and a mask. When the nice nurse asking me so many questions wheeled me back in the ER I was scared but she had a good positive energy around here. It helped ease my fear. I’ve never seen or heard the ER so quite and no one around. Their is a section for us potential corona people and my goodness they have it organized and down to nearly perfection, it’s impressive at IU HEALTH BMH!!! It’s also terrifying. But I remained in my zen place. Idk how but I did. So we turned the corner and you see the hallway lined with red carts of equipment outside each room. My group of nurses were waiting for me outside the room. Over the speakers they announce “incoming patient room 38” so they are ready for when you’re wheeled back! I heard this ALL. DAY. I got in the room and they shut the big sliding glass door and curtain and I had to put on a gown. Then a nurse came in fully covered. Face mask, gloves, gown, protective eye wear. I was just thankful it wasn’t a hazmat suit. I would have cried and fully went into a panic attackS He was in the room with me for a long time. Other nurses stood outside, my private window view room, and handed him things through the crack of the door from the cart or ran and got him whatever was needed. This is so nothing was set down or touched by me or anything of the matter, I assume, Even when he was done touching me or near me he’d sanitize the gloves before taking them off and the gown and throw it in the bin before leaving the room. An outside nurse would slide the door open for him to fit thru and he’d slide out and it would be closed again. It’s extremely important they don’t touch anything as they could easily spread it or get it themselves. Everything was done with such precision and teamwork!!! AMAZING! Always nurses in the hall so if someone was in a room with a patient and their team of nurses were helping someone else, they would yell hey anyone in the hall that could hand me____. They had great spirits and were and are superhero’s in my eyes. At one point a janitor was cleaning my window door and he waved to me and I waved back. He gave me thumbs up or down and I did a thumbs up and tried to smile. It was just sweet. You better believe anyone I came in contact with I thanked! They were each taken back by that because it’s their job but I just had to thank them for being our hero’s!!! One nurse I said thank you, she said you already thanked me I checked you in, I said well I just appreciate ya all so much. She said rain or shine it’s what we do, I love what I do so I’m here. It makes me want to cry thinking about. I first got an EKG which was handed to my nurse in the room thru the opening. Another nurse stood in the hallway and recorded all info. After it was over he sanitized it so well and handed it back out to her. Again, he was in the room with me quite some time...To lighten the mood I made him and I plan out if zombies would attack what are game plan would be. But then I’d get coughing and oxygen levels would drop so the fun would be over til I would try to make another joke, because humor was the only way from keeping me from crying, being terrified and panicking. He was laughing himself. I said humor is getting me thru, he said I love your positivity!! You’re so sick and yet you’re a beacon of light. I said no sir, you are. The Dr came in and was amaaaaaaazing! He explained they would be testing for pretty much everything because they want to rule out as much as they can. So hence the ekg, tons of blood work, blood pressure monitored, I was hooked up to machines to monitor my heart I guess, cuz I accidentally took it off and boy did it make a loud annoying sound, iv of fluids, monitored my oxygen ya know all that fun stuff. My nurse got my iv thingy done in 1 poke, that rarely happens so I knew I was in great hands! He took so much blood! I was just like ya going to leave any for me? Again with the jokes. Then I’d have to stop cuz I couldn’t breathe. Dr. Also came in pretty quickly as my nurse was still working and charting things. He was dressed the same. He was awesome as well!!! I said thank you, he said what? I said thank you for doing what you do and helping me. He said I haven’t done anything yet. I said you’re here and you’re a hero thank you. He said wow, well it’s my job and I love it of course. Thank you. He explained that they were testing for everything; heart issues, blood clots, blood tests, flu to make sure it wasn’t any of that since I do have covid-19 symptoms he wanted to rule out that anything else could be going on, especially with my sinus and bronchitis history. The flu is going around as well. He explained that a few weeks ago if you tested positive for the flu you didn’t have covid-19 but NOW people are testing positive for both the flu and covid-19. He said it’s ever changing and he just has to make sure and rule out everything else. I was extremely grateful for his thoroughness and ALLLLLL my questions. He made me feel calm and in good hands in the chaotic scary situation I’m in. He said the virus does move extremely fast and it was so important that I listened to my dr and got here as fast as I did. He asked if I had been around or in contact with anyone who had it or symptoms. I said no and explained I had only been out a few times for groceries, gas, medicine, groceries to survive for a month. I explained everything I did and said I was the most cautious. Hand sanitizer with me, mask, washed hands constantly, stripped and washed clothes in hot water ASAP if I came in from outside, Clorox wipes highly touched surfaces etc. he said “it’s spreading like wildfire” He left and my nurse continued doing his awesome thing. He had been in a similar situation overseas before so I’m like I got the winning nurse suckers! Muhahahaha. He did things like take my temp (only time I removed the mask when he was in there) blood pressure, started iv, administers pain meds and a fever reducer, moves my bed up so I wasn’t wheezing and coughing so much...I feel like a few more things but I kinda lost track. He finally left and I was alone. I had the nurses call button, and a phone right next to me. I literally just was sitting/laying there taking everything in trying to remember how it looked and felt. I saw nurses walk by, some run by, janitors, people pushing machines, others calmly walking, but everyone had a face mask on! Another nurse would be walking by and I’d wave and they’d smile and wave back. You could tell they were trying to make us feel a sense of calmness and peace during this scary time. I witness patients being brought in, not many but I’d hear “incoming patient room 32” and I thought dang it no neighbor for me. I had a room kinda across from me and it was dark. I was kinda hoping for someone else to be there so I wouldn’t feel so alone. My friends who I told I was in the ER were amazing and I was keeping them entertained and them me. I was texting my family updates constantly as well as my besties. I was snap chatting friends. Anything to keep my mind occupied because I knew I would go into a panic attack which would cause even more distress. This big machine came rolling down the hallway. She stopped in front of my gorgeous window view room and I could see her putting on a gown and gloves and preparing and I thought, oh crap what’s that. My oxygen was dropping cuz of my panic. So I went to my zen place. Oxygen back up. She came in and it was an X-RAY machine! Yeah! They bring it to you so I put my mask on before she entered. I mean you do not leave that room! I thanked her for working. Again confusion. She said no problem happy to help I love what I do. See a pattern? Oh I just want to hug these heroes of ours! So she put this thing on my back. Told me to hold still and breathe in deep, that didn’t go well so we had to try again and move me over and she got it that time. She said I’d have results within probably 30 minutes. I thanked her again. She did the same as everyone else. Sanitized the gloves. Took off her gown. Sanitized again. Took off the gloves and someone opened the door for her. Okay, Back to people watching. But it wasn’t very hopping in the hallway. I thought of myself as an animal in the zoo locked behind glass. I feel sorry for them. I started to drift off and then would wake myself up hacking. Dr came and asked if he could stand at the door and had it slightly cracked, he didn’t have protective gear on, only a mask and the glasses, and I said oh of course. He told me that my blood work was great, flu test was negative, my vitals are the best in the er. However he feels I do have sinus infection and bronchitis and X-rays show I have pneumonia on my left lower lung, and my right lung has inflammation, and I have Covid-19, as I have all the symptoms. I just stared at him. (Hear people yelling codes and chaos something about respitory...his face changed and he looked around and said brb) and took off running with a slew of other nurses...idk where they were hiding. Then a second later he was back in my doorway and apologized profusely I said dr no need it’s a crazy intense time! He said where were we yes ok so this is...I cut him off and said doctor you are sure it’s my left lung? My right lung feels like it’s the one with pneumonia cuz it’s hurting and my back left area is hurting and feels like I’m being punched with bricks and everything in my chest front and back feels twisted all up. He explained how and why that is. He explained everything in such great detail and was just phenomenal. I can’t explain it. Then I said wait, so I have Covid-19? I’m just trying to process it all. He said you’re extremely sick. I said it’s how I roll and he just kinda laughed and said you poor thing. He said yes I am diagnosing you as being positive for covid-19 because you have every symptom and pneumonia. However, I’m not admitting you because your vitals are the best in the er, your age, and you are a healthy person. I’m admitting those with cancer, the elderly, and those with respitory illness. The only way to be tested is to be admitted and I just can not admit you when your vitals are the best, he said look your oxygen is back up to 100. But I’m only sending you home under “extreme caution” meaning if you can’t breath or get worse you immediately come back to the ER and we will admit you! You have to stay hydrated, get plenty of rest and stay quarantined for 7 days. I told him how scared I am to go home and ride this out alone when my dr office said the virus moves so quick and I could die. He said I understand and that’s why you’re under extreme caution and if anything changes you are to come back and we admit you. I just can not in good conscience admit you when you’re a healthy, young person who’s vitals are the best in this hospital. Which I understood. I hope I’ve helped describe it in the best way possible from my experience. Now the symptoms and onset: Diarrhea was first for I think 7-10 days until the other symptoms started (I could be wrong on the amount of days) then about 4-5 days before it was sinus problems that kept getting worse and slight throat off and on, then about 3-4 days before it was headaches/migraines but not my normal type. So if you are a chronic migraine suffer it will feel different. 1 day before which would have been Wednesday the migraine was awful and had vomiting with that and continually just didn’t feel well, couldn’t eat. The day they said I probably have Covid-19 and to start as DAY 1, Thursday. Day 1: Thursday morning I woke up feeling awful and sick. I couldn’t breathe out of my nose, migraine but again different like on top of my head and bottom of skull, and would go away and come back, still tummy issues but NO vomiting, my throat hurt and uvula swollen, sharp back pain, chest tightness, dry cough, occasional chest pain, chills, I think I had a fever but not 100% sure, and achey. I knew I was sick, it was sinus infection for sure and felt like bronchitis but also it hurt worse than that. Maybe walking pneumonia? But I don’t remember the back pain being that bad before. Barley slept. Just too much pain and coughing and muscle aches increased, couldn’t get comfortable, everything just hurt. Day 2: Friday morning when I woke up after just a few short hours oh my! I felt like I had been hit by a plane and a train and backed up over too. The chest pain and back pain was almost unbearable. Sore throat was worse, bright red and uvula swollen, it felt like sandpaper on my throat when I was swallowing, I couldn’t smell anything, wheezing even just laying there not doing anything, muscle aches and cramps, I woke up drenched in sweat but was freezing and couldn’t get warm, tummy issues with nausea, couldn’t really taste much, sneezing, dizzy, and just awful feeling. I felt like I couldn’t catch a good breath either. But I was determined to ride it out at home. Then as you know I had to go to the er. After the er the meds and the antibiotics they gave me and fluids I not only felt better I sounded and looked better! (I either am pale or red face when sick and fever and I was going back and forth between the two depending on the time of day) by Friday night I sounded almost normal, no wheezing, and had color back in my face!!! But it took me nearly 4 hours to finish 32 ounces of Gatorade because of my nausea and sore throat. I Barley slept. Rough night indeed. My pain level in the er was about a 7 sometimes 8, last night at times it would go to a 10 but drop back down quickly and I was breathing okay so I stayed home. I will admit I have zero pain tolerance. I’m a baby. Just couldn’t sleep. Was coughing/hacking a lot. Just when your body is all achey and your chest is so tight and hurts and your back feels like bricks are constantly punching you it’s hard to sleep. Day 3: Saturday morning I woke up and got about 5-6 hours of sleep which I was excited about!! I wanted to go back to sleep but I know per my PCP I HAVE to drink 8 ounces of fluid every hour and I’m failing at this. And the er dr said it’s extremely important to stay hydrated so I was not allowing myself to go back to sleep til I got fluids in me. I called my parents to check in and knew mom would help hold me accountable to get liquids, food in me so I could take meds. You’re the best mommy! But oh my. I thought Friday morning was bad. Saturday morning I had everything I did the day before except wheezing! Yay! Well, until I stood up and walk a few steps. Wheezing, heavy breathing and hard to catch my breath. Also...Sooo dizzy. Almost fell over a few times. I have vertigo a lot with my migraines so I’m a pro balancer. Hehehe. And my head is just extreme pain today it’s top and middle of skull and been constant with extreme waves of pressure. But what was so different besides the extreme dizziness was the fatigue! You would think I ran a triathlon. I had to take breaks to get places in my house. Usually I’m zip zapping around in seconds with Bella chasing me. Today she was so confused. She also doesn’t leave my side when I’m sick and she’s been distancing herself so that’s been a lil strange. She still comes and checks on me but it’s not my usual kitty. They say to stay away from your pets so maybe she is picking up on something. Poor Bella boo. Okay sorry got side tracked. Literally no drama picking up a 32 ounce bottle of Gatorade was too heavy for me. Are you kidding? A week ago I was carrying a bag of 6 of them in one hand. Nausea comes and goes but I have no appetite. I don’t want to eat or drink, but I know I have too and I’m forcing myself liquids. I took a 3 hour nap this afternoon and I’m keeping myself elevated with multiple pillows to help with the congestion and coughing. The pain in my back and chest hurts, it’s constant pain and tightness and you can’t feel like you ever get a good deep breath. Day 4: Sunday I got a little bit more sleep (7 hours) and woke up feeling a little better. Not as fatigued. Headache but not migraine. Overnight was rough!!!! Saturday into Sunday I was in a lot of pain and couldn’t get a good breath. I found a video online of an ICU nurse that went viral about the cupping/patting technique. Someone is supposed to cup their hands and pat on your back, it breaks up the mucus. With covid-19 the mucus sticks to your lungs and you can’t breathe etc. my anxiety was like oh no this is why I can’t breathe well and I didn’t want to go to the er as I know they’ll admit me. Space is limited. I can ride this out. I want that for those that truly need it, that have husband and kids, that have a huge house full of people that they can’t isolate from, a Grandma, idk...I just it may sound silly to you but it’s how I feel. I can’t get over the er dr telling me I had the best vitals in the er when everyday you hear others are dying. So I threw myself up against a wall protecting my head and could feel the mucus come up as I was staring to choke a bit and cough! Woah! It works. It hurt extremely bad but it was working so I continued it. It wore me out so I’d take a break and do it again. It worked because I spit up some mucus. I started to realize what was happening...oh no. I’m really sick. I started getting emotional and text my bestie...golly I am extremely grateful for 3/4 am convos with my bestie who has a newborn because I was in a lot of pain, my breathing was hard, and just starting to realize the severity of what’s happening to me. Finally I drifted off to sleep. Again woke up feeling a bit better. My chest didn’t feel as tight, I felt more with it not so in a dream foggy state, but my left arm was a bit swollen hot to touch and had some red splotches. Hmm. What’s that about? Well, My parents, my living angels, dropped off Gatorade, tea, sugar soup, muffins, etc and it was just so amazing to wake up to those texts and that stuff on my front porch. I can’t emphasize enough, although they don’t tell me I KNOW they are having a hard time...they are so scared and feel absolutely helpless. I feel so bad for doing this to them. I was able to pick up the bag of Gatorade! Remember yesterday I couldn’t even lift 1 Gatorade-woah! This is exciting! I walked to the kitchen without having to take a break. Again exciting. But I was still so dizzy and almost fell. Thankfully the stove and cabinets caught me. I was like a pin ball all day slamming into things left and right and bouncing off them. Good lord. And it’s not like vertigo. It’s like you’re walking fine and then boom you’re in a door. Well how’d that happen. Bella found this amusing. She came out of isolation a bit today and hung out with me which was really nice to get some kitty cuddles. My cheeks still red so I’m pretty sure running a fever and still cold constantly. Throat feels a little better. Oh what’s that I’m hungry?! Yesss! One bite and I’m full. Dang. Still can’t taste or smell. And my nose is super stuffy. I drank hot tea which was amazing on my sore throat! And it helps break the mucus up. I did finally take a shower tonight!!!! I realized in the shower since I was standing I still have a broken toe. My poor body, it doesn’t know what to fix! I got completely fatigued during and after. But the steam and hot water felt so nice. I had to take multiple breaks just to finish and walk to my room like 5 steps away. I was spent!!! Also I started noticing later tonight my right side of my back is also in a lot of pain like my left. Yikes. I’m losing track of time. I thought it was like 2 pm and it was 5:30 pm. I thought it was like 9 and it was nearly midnight. I know I need more sleep. I did a little better today getting liquids down! Nausea care back. Had to call the er for some questions, they referred me to the virtual screening nurses, so I think this is going to be a nightly thing...on Thursday my breath test I got to 10. Tonight I got to 6/7 and that’s being generous it was more like a 5/6 But since I feel somewhat okay the nurse consulted with the dr and said I could be transferred to the on call Drs and pay or to call my dr in the morning and discuss with her my arm, as they noticed what I was seeing (swollen and red splotches) and it’s the opposite arm of iv, and also about my breathing. I decided to consult my dr in the am. As I was trying to sleep I got an intense sharp pain in my back on the left that had me in tears. It went away after about a minute. I hope I can work tomorrow but the dr wrote me off for two weeks. The best way to describe this for me, remember I have multiple things not just covid-19, is having a cold, the tummy flu, pneumonia, and mono all at once.

[beanplague-moved]

Yoosung Kim’s Guide to a First Relationship

yo! the sales for @yoosungkimzine went through very successfully, and thus im able to post my full piece for it. here we go i guess.

AO3 | writing commissions | my secret mysme blog that has nothing on it.

Tip #1: Kissing

Yoosung’s first kiss with MC is his first kiss in general. It’s expected to be a little clumsy. The fact that it’s a spontaneous public display happens to be enough to mask the clumsiness.

On a related sidenote, he really didn’t think about how much the eyepatch would factor into the situation—and if he did, he assumed it wouldn’t really have anything to do with it. Lips and eyes are different, and kissing is always portrayed as instinctual and easy on television, so why would it matter? Except, well, depth perception is kind of important when it comes to just about anything, and so his first kiss is really, really good, but he’s also mostly kissing the corner of her mouth, because of the lack of aforementioned depth perception. Whoops.

That said, it isn’t the first kiss that’s especially complicated. It’s all the other ones. There are a lot of intricacies involved in kissing, or, Yoosung feels like there are. Even simple things, like a kiss on the cheek upon meeting each other, seem complicated. Is he supposed to initiate it? Would it be weird if he asked beforehand? Would it be even weirder if he didn’t ask? The latter seems more likely—what if he makes her uncomfortable? He’d never want to overstep his bounds, but how does one even ask about that sort of thing? Zen would know what to do—wait, thinking about what his friends would do while he’s on a date is weird, right? This is terrible.

“Yoosung,” says MC, as they tread the sidewalk, “You’re thinking too much.”

Yoosung manages a semi-humorous response. “I am not. I’ve never had a thought in my life.”

“You have been looking at me like you wanted to say something for five minutes now,” she replies, “And you’ve had lots of thoughts. In fact, you’re having entirely too many thoughts right now.”

She does have a point. He could be getting into his own head about it. He gets into his own head about a lot of things, and it’s good sometimes! MC likes that he’s thoughtful, or at least she says that she does, and Yoosung tends to believe most of the things she says. She’s a very honest person. She has no reason to lie to him, and Yoosung has no reason to believe she would lie to him.

No reason.

At all.

Except, well, Yoosung is still a victim of his own insecurities, and though he has confidence in MC’s honesty, there is some small part of him that thinks she could just be saying things to avoid offending him. And as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he regrets it. This was supposed to be a fun day, and his brain just had to inform him that he’s a terrible boyfriend who has no idea what he’s doing—

“Hey,” says MC. “Look at me.”

Yoosung is torn away from his thoughts, which is a very welcome thing, at the moment. “I’m looking,” he says.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” replies MC. “Because I can tell something is, and I want to help.”

“Nothing! It’s nothing—why would anything be wrong? Maybe you’re thinking too much. Maybe—” he stops. “Okay, yes, something is wrong.”

“And what is that?”

“I want, to, uhm,” Yoosung stops. For a second he thinks, this is going to be so awkward; but then he meets MC’s eyes again and she’s not judgemental in the slightest, and it kind of dawns on him that he’s worrying about nothing. “I want to kiss you.”

Okay. Still awkward, and every second he spends marinating in that awkwardness is another second wherein he wants to call this whole thing off and try again another time, like when you fail a level in a video game and load at the last safe checkpoint.

MC blinks, and then she goes a bit pink in the face. “Oh! Is—is that all?” she says, trying to maintain her cool. Yoosung says ‘trying’ because it’s clear that she’s just as embarrassed as he is, which is actually very reassuring. He isn’t alone in all of his overthinking and insecurity.

He nods, and MC meets his eyes before looking down at her feet. “I think,” she starts, lifting her eyes to meet his again, “that is a very fixable issue.”

Yoosung is pretty sure he undergoes a bit of a malfunction, for a quarter of a second—Yoosung.EXE has stopped working, would you like to restart or wait for him to respond? Apparently MC picks the second option, because then he says, “Okay,” and the second challenge arises, which is actually kissing her, rather than just thinking about it for longer than necessary. “Could you close your eyes?”

“Oh, you’re right! That’s a thing people do when they kiss,” MC jokes, “Imagine if they didn’t, though? Like, if we kissed and I was just staring directly at you.”

Yoosung feigns a frightened shiver, “That’s terrifying.”

“I know, right! It would be really funny, though. I should stop talking. I’m going to stop talking… now. Right now,” she stops talking, and Yoosung is semi-disappointed. He does love listening to her talk, but he also likes kissing her, which he can’t do while she’s talking. Relationships are so hard.

He places one of his hands on MC’s shoulder, and he brushes the dark hair from her face with the other before leaning down to press a quick peck on her lips. Is it weird to be doing this in the middle of the sidewalk, in broad daylight? Yes. Does the joy of kissing her outweigh the weirdness? Absolutely.

When he pulls away, MC eyelids flutter open and she says, “I love you,” and Yoosung’s heart flips. Her face goes red and she adds, “Well! Nice exchange we had there. Good communication.”

“Yeah,” says Yoosung, before adding, “I love you, too. You know that, right?”

MC’s hands move to cover her face. “Yeah, I know,” she almost squeaks.

“What are you doing with your hands?”

“I’m smiling too much, and it would be embarrassing —”

“That’s not embarrassing! That’s cute!”

“Of course you think so!” MC says, and then she bursts into laughter and Yoosung follows suit. “I love you,” she says, the giddiness dripping off of her voice.

“I love you,” says Yoosung, and he means so much when he says it. He means it with his whole heart.

She walks closer to him, looks up at him and closes her eyes. They kiss again. This time, it’s easier. He can’t stop smiling.

Tip #2: Scheduling.

“Tuesday?”

“I have classes on weekdays. What about the weekend?”

“Don’t hate me, but I have to visit one of my friends over the weekend.”

“I couldn’t hate you for that!”

“I know, I know. I just—” MC groans, “I just wish I was free so I could see my boyfriend for once!”

“I wish I was free so I could see my girlfriend!” replies Yoosung, leaning back in his desk chair and looking up at the ceiling. He and MC have been on the phone for around ten minutes now, talking about this and that, but mostly trying to set up their next date. As it turns out, they’re very busy people.

It goes on like it has for a little while. As it stands, the two of them are pretty busy for the month, and the days where one of them isn’t busy are days where the other happens to be busy. It’s very inconvenient. Yoosung has school, which he might have been okay with putting aside in the past, but now he’s trying to do better and ready himself for the future and all of that other garbage. It’s a total bummer. If only past-Yoosung was the one with the girlfriend, then he’d have so much more time to hang out with her. Of course, he’d have remained game addicted and vaguely depressed, but whatever. You win some, you lose some.

MC, on the other hand, has an active social life in addition to the fact that she also goes to school, and the universe didn’t even have the decency to make them go to the same university. Truly, nothing in this world is fair. And, speaking of nothing being fair, Yoosung also has his extracurricular obligations. He may have cut down on LOLOL, but he has friends who he plays with from time to time, and he’d be remiss to flake on them; and then that’s not even getting into the activity meetings he attends at school.

“What if,” says MC, after a few minutes of contemplation, “I came to one of your meetings with the meteor study club? Or maybe I could get into LOLOL or something?”

“For real?” Once Yoosung manages to process the concept, he can hardly contain his excitement. “For real?!”

“For real!” says MC, “I mean, I already play a few video games, and it doesn’t seem that hard to get into. And the club meetings sound pretty cool!”

“They are! And LOLOL can be a little overwhelming, but if it’s just me and you and my group of friends it should be fine—” Yoosung cuts himself off, “I should get into the stuff you’re into!”

“Oh, it’s fine! I don’t wanna drag you into anything.”

Yoosung shakes his head, and then quickly realizes that he’s on the phone and MC can’t see him. “It’s not fair if you’re just getting into the things I’m into! And it’s really cool to think about us sharing interests and everything and—” he stops himself before he can ramble for too long, “I would be totally cool with it.”

MC is quiet for a moment, and then she speaks. Yoosung can tell she’s smiling. “Maybe you can visit my school, then. I’ll introduce my cool boyfriend to all of my friends.”

“And I’ll get to introduce my cool girlfriend to all of my friends! Well, I mean, you already know most of my friends because of RFA and everything, but the other ones! You can meet one of my LOLOL friends,” he says, “And you can meet my friends from school! They’re also pretty cool. You met Star through email for the party, actually!”

“I did! And, uh, sorry for the typing in the background. I’m trying to make a LOLOL account. Should I go healer?”

Okay, maybe this is stupid, but just hearing his girlfriend talk about trying out his interests is really, really nice. Everything is nice with her, but this especially. “I love you,” he says, dreamily.

“I mean, that doesn’t exactly answer the question, but you are killing me! You’re killing me dead!”

“With love?”

“With so much love! I’m getting overloaded. I’m going to shut down soon, like an overloaded computer.”

“Oh! That reminds me—do you have a desktop? I wouldn’t try installing the game on your regular laptop if you don’t. It might not run very well, and it could overheat your computer,” he stops, “I’m sorry, I’m getting over excited about this stuff.”

“Don’t be! I love when you’re excited. It’s very, very cute,” says MC.

“You’re cute!”

“No, you’ve already dominated the cute economy. It is shattering in your wake. You can’t take back the damage you’ve done.”

It goes on like that for a while, and Yoosung is eternally grateful that his girlfriend is as smart and funny (and cute) as she is, and that of all guys, she likes him! It really is a statistical miracle. Of all guys, MC is willing to make time for him. She’s willing to look into his interests to spend time with him. And she doesn’t get bored when he starts raving about that one time he built a gaming PC or how the LOLOL community is actually improving now that it’s becoming more popular—she doesn’t mind any of that. She likes him, and not despite his interests or quirks, but because of them.

That’s never been anything Yoosung imagined for himself. It’s always been something he thought other guys got out of relationships; something that was reserved for those much more together than he was. Yet he is that guy, now. He’s the guy in the perfect relationship, with the perfect girl, which brings up the question…

What does she see in him?

Tip #3: Jealousy.

He starts thinking more heavily on this when he sees MC talking in the chatroom the next day. 707 is teaching her how to code, and it’s completely innocent—he knows nothing is going on—but his mind can’t help but wander.

Because, yeah, nothing is going on right now. Maybe nothing will be going on for a while longer, but what if? What if she slowly but surely begins to realize that Yoosung isn’t anything special, but the other guys in RFA are? Zen is an actor, and he’s popular with girls already. Mostly Jaehee, but other girls too. Jumin is almost comically rich, (like, the kind of rich where it’s represented in a cartoon as a pool of gold coins and extremely high bills) and he’s handsome and mature. 707 is funny and smart, and he and MC seem to get along really well. And Jaehee isn’t a guy, but she is intelligent and well put-together, which are things Yoosung has yet to fully achieve. (Well, he is intelligent. He has a million test scores from high school that tell him so, but he doesn’t know if any of that knowledge truly equates to the real world. It certainly needs some work, considering the last few years wherein he did nothing but play video games and slack off.)

So when he watches the chat pass by, and 707 talks about how nice it is to be a teacher and MC responds with a string of smiling emoticons, it kind of stings. Even when Yoosung knows it doesn’t mean anything. Even when he knows that nothing would ever happen—there’s something about his own insecurity that always gets in the way.

This dreadful thought passes into the next day, and Yoosung and MC are going on a date—MC is coming to one of the meteor study meetings tonight, and it’s actually a really special meeting. Apparently it’s expected that the stars will be much more visible today than they are normally, so they’ve a stargazing event in the park. Some of the club members bring telescopes and beach blankets to sit on, and the park is really pretty in the day already, so Yoosung is pretty excited to see it under the moon and starlight. It sounds really romantic, and it definitely would be, if not for the myriad of baggage he’s bringing to it.

And he knows that it’s stupid. He knows the jealousy is an ugly emotion, and that MC would never hurt him in any way. He knows that, and yet he still feels like this, and he feels kind of pathetic for that. The thought pesters him throughout the day with MC, and she seems to notice his irritation.

“Babe,” she says, and that’s almost enough to make him drop all hostile emotions, because that’s a pet name and she said it so casually—but then he thinks about how one day, she could call someone else babe, and he mentally damns himself for ruining such a cool moment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You aren’t fine! You said ‘I’m fine’ in a very not fine way.”

“I’m fine, really,” says Yoosung, and MC narrows her eyes at him, but she seems to let it go. They talk about other, more casual things. For a moment, it seems like all of his previous worries can just melt away.

Except, then MC’s phone buzzes, and all of that bitterness floods right back. Apparently Yoosung doesn’t do a very good job of hiding his stupid, terrible jealousy, because MC recognizes that something is off as soon as she looks at him.

“Seriously, Yoosung, what’s wrong?”

For a moment, he loses himself and says, “I don’t know, why don’t you ask Seven—” and then he cuts himself off, immediately realizing how impeccably wrong that statement was, “Oh, God. I’m sorry, I just—” he inhales, and he looks down at his feet.

“Yoosung, it’s fine,” MC puts a hand on his shoulder, “What’s bothering you about Seven?”

“Nothing! I’m just—I keep feeling—augh,” he groans, “I’m jealous. And I keep feeling jealous, all the time, even when I know it’s dumb!” There’s a moment of silence that passes, and every second is one where Yoosung worries that he’s ruined everything.

“It’s not dumb, it’s natural,” reassures MC, “And you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I mean, I know that, though,” he says, “the problem isn’t that I don’t think you’re faithful—I know you are. I just, I don’t wanna feel the way I do. I don’t wanna be that guy.”

“And you’re not!” says MC, “You didn’t get upset with me, aside from that one comment, which you immediately apologized for. You didn’t try going through my phone or tell the other guys not to talk to me or anything. You talked to me about it.”

“I—” he stops, “You’re being too nice.”

“I’m not! I promise, I don’t think any less of you for feeling that stuff,” she says, “In fact, I feel better that you at least talked to me about it. And, well, I’m gonna say something super embarrassing, so don’t make fun of me,” she inhales, and then starts, “I like you a lot, Yoosung, and I want you to talk to me about the things that you feel, because I want this to work. I want to be with you for as long as humanly possible, and I know that these things only work if we, you know, communicate.”

Yoosung pauses, and he looks at MC. He really is so in love with her. He’s in love with everything about her. Everything that contributes to her is something he’s in love with. And he could voice all of this, but then he’s suddenly very aware of tip #1 and, well.

“I love you,” he says, “Can I kiss you?”

“See! What’d I tell you about communication,” tries MC, her face quickly going red, “I. Um. Absolutely.”

They kiss, and it’s a soft, brief kiss that feels like it could last a lifetime. She threads a hand through his blond hair, and she says, “This is a really, really awkward thing to do at your stargazing event,” when they pull back and suddenly Yoosung is very aware of the fact that he and MC are in a public park with their other club members. Star, at least, is pretty understanding—as she seems to be squealing to someone else about this very private moment she just witnessed.

They kiss once more that day—well, that night. As the moon settles and the stars beam in the ink-dark sky, and he holds MC’s hand and points at the constellations, he meets her eyes and he realizes that he never needs to worry about anything, because they have it all together. They can learn as they go, and they can take those lessons and carry them over into every future issue. He thinks about these past few weeks, from the first text to now, and all of the problems they’ve encountered, and all of the solutions they’ve come to.

And in his heart he’s confident that they’ll do just fine.

#mystic messenger #yoosung kim #mysme yoosung #yoosung x mc #mysme fanfiction

[soft-sarcasm]

JUNG HOSEOK: THIS CONVERSATION.

Pairing: jung hoseok x reader. Genre: a n g s t. that's it. Word count: 3,2k+ a/n: i keep going ages without posting and when i do post its never what i've promised but i swear the stuff i said before is going to arrive sometime in the next millenium. i don't know really where this came from or what it is but it followed out really naturally because for me i either sit down and write something to its completion, or start something, get like almost mid-way, stop and never come back it. so here it is, whatever it is. p.s i listened to these songs from the your name soundtrack while writing the end of this and almost bawled my eyes out so if you want to go full emo enjoy. also this conversations by ciaran levery is really good for this. @kaylee-jade-camp

The first 48 hours are crucial, in both a missing persons case and a 'might have been broken up with' case. Okay, perhaps the latter isn't quite as crucial as the former, but it certainly felt like you were missing something, perhaps your heart, as you stared blankly at the neatly digitalised words that had been haunting you for the past 20 hours since they had initially been received;

'This isn't working out.'

Now it may seem a bit dramatic to instantly jump to the conclusion that you were being broken up with, and you would agree if it hadn't been the conclusion to a near-hour long fight that had raged between message notifications and furiously tapping thumbs. Text messages and phone-calls had been the customary medium in which the majority of your relationship-centric arguments had taken place throughout the year that there had been a relationship to argue about. It had become so customary to expel all of your frustration and disagreement through sharply worded texts and the purposeful absence of any reassuring emojis that you sometimes wondered if there was any other way to communicate such feelings.

Thankfully such instances didn't occur too frequently but when they did it usually happened when one, or both, of you, were seriously sleep-deprived and stressed out. This meant that it was far easier for fingers to type on their own and for hurtful words to be sent off to the other without a coherent thought. Something similar had transpired during the early hours of this morning when a simple 'have a safe flight' message to Hoseok had turned into something so much more. How or even why you couldn't be sure but somehow a match had been struck and a flurry of unresolved issues had been ignited.

'I just want some space.'

'You're barely in the country. The only thing that's ever between us is space.'

'You don't understand how hard this is for me.'

'I would if you would just tell me.'

'That's what I'm doing now and you aren't listening.'

'Because all I'm hearing are excuses.'

Those were just a few of the highlighted exerts from your far too dragged out debate, the in-between lines being stuffed with sentiments of a similar miscommunication. And then the dreaded 'this isn't working out' had been sent that was quickly followed by a complete radio silence which you knew you could logically account to the 16-hour flight Hoseok had been in the process of boarding when your fight had broken out. Even then the illogical part of your brain had decided matter-of-factly that Hoseok was officially done with you, that if he wanted he could use some of the all but limitless money he earned to purchase some of the airlines overpriced wifi and contact you but was choosing not to.

You were over. Finished. Nothing else to say and yet you couldn't help but hold out some semblance of hope that when he finally touched down on to home soil that you would receive a relieving ding followed by some sort of explanation about how he was still willing to work things out.

And yet nothing. You knew sometimes there was a delay between the landing and being out of the airport but even then, cell-service was not limited to being clear of Incheon and again, if Hoseok wanted to, he could have contacted you. 

But it was clear that he didn't want to.

You had attempted to function with the knowledge that the relationship you had devoted so much energy and devotion to was just over. You went to your job, typed out mindless translations only to be later berated by your superior for the multiple discrepancies in your work. You had then proceeded to leave work and had a lonely meal for one in the tiny Udon place on the corner of your street, wallowing over you overcooked noodles as the radio blared the symphony of your boyfriend (potentially ex-boyfriend's) group as if to mock you.

You now found yourself curled into the crevice of your couch, staring down at the fluorescent screen of your phone with your message app opened to your conversation with 'Hobi.' Your responding message had yet to be read but you knew there was no way that Hoseok had spent this much time without looking at his phone, eve the tech-addict as was the majority of your generation.

'What does that mean for us?'

The silence was pretty clear answer to your question, there was no us left to mean anything.

Introspection was not something you excelled at. In fact ignoring and suppressing emotional issues was far more your style, as was it Hoseok's. Hoseok for all his sunshine and smiley cover, one he maintained even when he had landed which you knew thanks to fansite photos that had been posted as soon as he walked out of the Arrival gates over three hours ago, was a complex Rubix cube of a human. It took ages to figure him out and twist out all of his colours to get six sides that you could actually understand. Over the year you'd like to think you had gotten pretty close to having six completely solid faces but it seemed that you had been mistaken and there was still plenty of squares for you to decipher; not that you would be given the opportunity now.

It felt surreal like you were somehow caught in some dreamscape where you didn't know whether or not to trust your surroundings which was why you didn't instantly react to the serious of melodic dings that signalled your doorbell had been rung. The robotic sound echoed throughout your otherwise quiet apartment and when the final ding rang out there was a silence before the entire melody was set off again. 

"Coming," You muttered quietly, shuffling through your flat that you hadn't even realised had become all but entirely dark since you had reclined to wallowing in the final hours of sunlight and had yet to do anything since. So you proceeded to turn on the lights as you reluctantly pulled yourself up to the screen that would reveal who was summoning your presence.

Even with the pulled down bucket hat and mask tugged under his chin it was undeniably Hoseok and his appearance was so startling that it took you a moment to actually comprehend that he was real and not a figment of your imagination. Your heart ached after not seeing him for so long and your palms felt clammy as you pressed the green button labelled 'Unlock.'

It was difficult to breathe with the anticipation lodged in your throat as you watched the door be pushed open and Hoseok to follow in after it. He didn't look at you as he made quick work of slipping off his shoes and trading them for the pair of house slippers that over the course of his visits had become his. When there was no task left for him to distract himself with he finally turned to where you stood, legs near quaking as you waited for him to say something.

"Hi." Was all he uttered and you had to stifle a scoff.

Anger threatened the creep into your system, attempting to punch words out of your mouth like 'what the fuck is going on,' 'why did you never reply' or what you really wanted to say 'are we really over?'

But you swallowed such questions and opted instead for a strangled, "Hi." Followed by an equally strained half smile that made your facial muscles ache. He stood awkwardly in the entrance to your home and the sight reminded you so much of the first time he had been there, hands stuffed idly in his pockets to keep himself busy as he attempted to keep his balance due to the alcohol that had coursed in his system thanks to the numerous cocktails you had shared at dinner. The air had been much lighter then, so much so that when you realised he hadn't followed behind you, you had turned back, an instant fit of giggles summoned by the look of uncertainty on his rose hazed face.

"You know, you can come in," You had said through tinkles of laughter, smile so big and heart so warm with your increasing adoration for this man that it had almost hurt, "You can always come in, no matter what."

Maybe that was why the look of hesitation on his face now hurt so deeply, that things had changed so thoroughly in your relationship that that meaningless promise you had made all that time before in between laughter and happiness didn't even apply.

"You can come in," You repeated, somberness twisting the words that once possessed so much merriment. You didn't say anything else.

Hoseok merely nodded and took a tentative step forward, so much caution that you literally had to turn away and busy yourself by migrating towards the kitchen. Hoseok's dancing abilities kept his steps light as he trailed behind you but thanks to the silence you were still able to hear when his movements stopped just at the threshold. A further sense of unfamiliarity and alienation crept up your spine and you had to stabilise yourself against the counter before mindlessly reaching over to switch the kettle on.

"Tea?"

You heard a rustle which made you assume Hoseok nodded but he seemed to realise pretty quickly that you couldn't actually see the movement with your back to him, "Yes."

This had to be the fewest words that had ever been shared between the two of you. You were both natural chatterboxes and even during the moments of silence shared between you there was still the loud comfort of the other's presence. There was no comfort remaining now as you stood what felt like oceans apart on the opposite sides of your shoebox kitchen. It was almost ironic, how you had actually spent weeks near months apart separated by actual, physical oceans apart and yet you had somehow felt closer then you did now.

The distance only seemed to stretch alongside the quiet as you both waited for the water boil and the distraction of placing two leaf-filled filter bags into separate cups before drowning them in scalding liquid. After a moment of steeping, you finally turned to Hoseok, half-looking at him as you extended a mug in his direction. He reached to take it with a nearly silent thank you before you both moved towards the living room.

Living room seemed to be a bit of a grand title for the make-shift space that doubled as a place you watched tv and ate but it would have to do today as the setting for this 20-hour dreaded conversation.

"I don't know where to start," Hoseok started quietly after one too many moments of silence had ticked past, "It's so different being here, like this."

"You mean in person?" You attempted to joke but knew that your words landed more as a blow by the way Hoseok winced at this, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

His lithe fingers tapped up and down the ceramic cup in his hand while you simply fumbled with the handle of your own mug, "Where do you even begin?"

"I think with something similar to 'I don't think this is working out," Again your words seemed to injure Hoseok as he flinched, "That's where our last conversation dropped off isn't it?" He seemed unnerved to be confronted with the reality of the situation, of the reality of his previous actions or lack thereof. It was as if he had almost expected you to ignore it, as though it hadn't been how you had ended up here.

"Yeah about that-" He swallowed as if to rid himself of a lump in his throat, "- I wasn't really thinking clearly when I sent that- you know how it is sometimes with the late nights and the early morning, I didn't mean it-"

"-Are you sure Hoseok?" You cut in even though you knew that it wasn't most likely the most sensitive thing to do in this situation but you could barely stand this situation as it was and his rambling with just going to prolong the agony. It was better to cut to the chase, to snip the steel cords that had once kept you so solidly tied together but had now been tugged down into weak, meagre whisps of wires that were now so easily snapped. "Are you sure you didn't mean it?"

"Of course I didn't," He answered instantly, eyes meeting yours for what felt like the first time, "Sure, sometimes this is a bit difficult but I never wanted to end things."

"Are you sure?" You repeated like some sort of broken record and for a moment you questioned yourself, why were you actively talking Hoseok out of making up? Why were you so set on causing the thing mere minutes ago you had been so fearful of.

Maybe it was because there was a part of you, the more logical part of you that was usually pushed to the background in emotional situations that understood Hoseok's true feelings, that knew that he had meant what he said even if he had yet to fully realise that himself.

"What are you even saying right now?" 

"I think," Your hands all but rattled against the handle of your mug as the shook, "I think that you did- do want to end things."

You could hear the bewilderment in his voice even though you couldn't look at him to confirm your suspicion, "What- I don't understand-"

"I think," You continued, a familiar pricking sensation occurring in your eyes, "I think it's best if we do end things here."

Hoseok choked, "Where is this even coming from?"

Where was this coming from? Hadn't you been denying the reality of this situation mere seconds, breaths before Hoseok had officially arrived? Hadn't you spent the last 20 hours clinging to some semblance that this wasn't where your relationship ended? That after months, years even of putting up with the distance, the stress, the strain that this was it.

But the thing was, before Hoseok arrived it had been easier to pretend that there was still a carved space for each other in your lives. The actual shock of Hoseok being at your place reminded you just how long it had been since you had actually physically spent more than a few hours together. There had been the time nearly two weeks back where you had met at the company building, prepared to eat lunch together when suddenly your time together was cut to a short twenty minutes when Hoseok was suddenly called away for some urgent work thing. It hadn't been an unusual occurrence, more often than not your dates, nights together were cut short. You couldn't even remember the last time you had had sex, maybe two months ago, between the American and European tours in which you had paid him a surprise visit in London which had again been abruptly interrupted when there had been an emergency back at work that couldn't be taken care of over Skype. 

When you actually started to think about your relationship there was very little of it to even recall, or at least to recall from the past few months. Except for the everyday mandatory text, all connections and efforts had dwindled. Which was to be expected and had happened before in the past but usually one of you would catch onto the separation sooner and would reach out, pointing out the distance and an effort would then be made to work harder, to talk more. But nothing had been brought up for months. Instead your relationship had turned near monotonous, a dull repeat of 'how was your day,' 'good morning,' and 'goodnight' with no real substance or interest in between. You used to know the latest tour story or funny antic by one of the boys but as you sat there in the heavy silence you couldn't remember the last time Hoseok had shared anything but the barest, most mundane details of his day. 

"We barely talk anymore Hoseok, which was made pretty clear by this morning, and even when we do it's not really about anything." 

"That doesn't mean we have to break up," Hoseok argued, adamance clear in his tone as he took to his feet, leaving his tea abandoned on the coffee table, "We just -I just need to work harder, I know sometimes with my job it feels like I'm a million miles away but I swear I can work on it-"

"-Hoseok," You interrupted softly turning to face him now, your heart shaking at the look of utter frustration and sadness on his face as his eyes burned with unshed tears, "This isn't just your fault, it's both of yours. Sometimes it just isn't the right time- maybe right now it isn't the best time for us-"

"-There won't be any us if we end right now." He stated, "That's how this works, if we decide that right now isn't the right time there won't ever be a right time and then we'll move on, you'll move on, and then there won't be any time for us because we'll be nothing but strangers."

A watery smile tugged at your lips, "Everyone's a stranger before they come into your life, and some people are just meant to continue being strangers."

"But not us," His voice was becoming more and more desperate as he tried to reason with both you and himself, "We were never meant to be strangers, I'm your pers- you're my person."

Slowly Hoseok sunk to his knees on the floor, the tears finally pouring out as his body and resolve caved in and you slipped off the couch to join him. You placed your hand gently on his knee as he wiped furiously at his eyes, "And there's going to be another person after me Hoseok, and if they aren't right there'll be someone else until you find the right one at the right time and it'll just all make sense."

"How can you say that? How can you be so calm?" He sobbed as if not taking notice to the shatter in your voice and the tears that trailed down your cheeks in steady dripping streams. 

"Because I know it's true," You spoke so softly you barely heard yourself, "And so do you, you know that there's someone else that's going to make you so fucking happy and you're going to think back to this moment and know."

"No, no, no," Hoseok began to chant in between sobs before flinging his arms around you so you could physically feel his tears, "There won't ever be anyone else, that's not how it works."

You clutched him back just as tightly, staring at the ceiling as you blinked back tears to ground yourself, "Yes it is Hobi, and I can't fucking wait until you meet someone who gives you the happiness you deserve."

He pulled back to look at you and you couldn't help but reach to brush some of the remaining tears from his face, "This isn't how it's supposed to end, over something so stupid."

"Sometimes we don't even realise that what we're feeling is just love rather than being in love." 

"Why are you so fucking smart? What am I going to do without you stopping me from doing stupid stuff?"

It was a genuine tug of happiness that curved your lips upwards as you wiped a final tear from his check, "Find someone smarter."

#bts #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #kpop scenarios #bts imagines #writing #kpop #fic rec

[speakingformyself101-blog]

The Death of a Friend

‘Death waits for no man’- Markus Zusak

You can never prepare yourself for death. He doesn’t wait until you’re ready, he could care less about your last goodbyes. It doesn’t matter if your good or bad, young or old, death is indiscriminate by nature. Death waits for no man, and he certainly didn’t wait for my friend Joe, who died before he could truly live.

I first met Joe after packing my bags and flying to China with dreams of becoming a teacher. Having arrived at the school a day before me, Joe and I became fast friends; both from England, freshly graduated, and severely out of our element, we found comfort in the familiarity of each other. Genuine and uncomplicated, the friendship blossomed over our shared endeavour to navigate the unknown. Eventually more friends were added on, and we established our own little squad, unbreakable and ready to take on whatever China could throw at us. We laughed together, celebrated each other’s achievements, and provided a shoulder to cry on.

Grief had always been an ambiguous concept to me; never having lost someone I was close to before, my experience and understanding of it derived primarily from TV. This ultimately made it difficult for me to empathise with others, and aside from the customary “I’m sorry for your loss”, my thoughts didn’t venture much further than that. That’s not to say I was some sort of emotionless psychopath, of course I sympathised for those going though such tragedy; believe me when I tell you I was a blubbering wreck for the full 2 hours of P.S. I Love You. But my emotions always had a shallowness to them, which eventually shifted to scepticism. Too often when I witnessed grief on TV it seemed exaggerated to me; the heartache taken and twisted into a caricature-esque illustration of its original self. I looked at it as an over-saturation of real-life, reserved for the big screen to justify drawn-out movie sequences where the main character screams and rages of the injustice of it all while melancholic piano plays softly in the background

It was only after experiencing grief personally that I realised wherein my derision lied. Oftentimes movies and TV shows will portray a character in denial or anger, but fail to show the mental journey that has taken place within the character’s mind to lead them there. Subsequently, to someone ignorant of the psychological proceedings that occurs internally when processing the death of a loved one, it can seem as if these reactions simply manifest out of thin air, with no rhyme or reason to them. Though I can only speak for myself, this failing stripped the emotions of its sincerity, making it harder to empathise with.

 ‘We begin to live again, but we cannot do so until we have given grief its time.’- Kubler Ross’s ‘The 5 Stages of Grief’ (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance)

In Kubler Ross’s ‘The 5 Stages of Grief’ (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance) he discusses the mental dealings behind the core emotions we feel while grieving, including its reason, importance to the grieving process, and how we move past it.  He emphasises that ‘there is not a typical response to loss as there is no typical loss. Our grief is as individual as our lives’. My experience with grief was similar to others in many ways, yet personal disposition, circumstances, and the nature of our friendship meant that my understanding and relationship with grief was wholly my own.

‘This first stage of grieving helps us to survive the loss’

When I first heard the news from a friend over the phone, I was in another country at the time. My denial didn’t manifest in the form of ‘I can’t believe this has happened’ but rather ‘I don’t believe this has happened’. What I mean by this is that, it’s not that I couldn’t accept the truth, but that I actively choose not to. It created a divide in my head, deep down I was aware that I was only lying to myself, but I did it anyway because there was no other option for me at that point. I did whatever I could to strengthen this pipe dream; I told myself that my friend sounded too composed over the phone (he was in shock), that it was just some sick prank they were playing, that motorcycle accidents don’t happen to 21-year-old’s who haven’t even been given the chance to live yet. Me and Joe worked together, and I remember checking the work chat every day thinking that until they make an announcement, there’s still a chance it’s all fake. The physical distance between me and Joe made it so much easier to create a mental distance between myself and the truth. It became a case of seeing is believing, and until someone could provide me with physical evidence of his death, I would carry on this ruse.

During my young teens, I was a sucker for the so-called ‘Girl Power’ storyline. Movies that pitted the strong-willed wall-flower against the sheltered and bird-brained female antagonist was my bread and butter. I had always envisioned myself as that strong-willed wallflower, a survivor at the core who could face whatever life throws at her head on, as if anything less would be a weakness. I grew to realise how utterly delusional of a mind-set that was, and appreciate the importance of allowing yourself to be emotionally vulnerable. However with all that said, it still makes me feel awkward to this day when I look back on my reaction to first hearing the news and think about how delusional I must have appeared to others. Eventually you just have to accept that, as Kubler- Ross states: ‘There is a grace in denial’, it is not a weakness one has to overcome, but rather a coping mechanism that allows us to handle only what we can.

‘Anger is the emotion we are most used to managing’

When I returned home, I could no longer deny what was right in front of me any longer; I could see my friend’s absence, and so I was forced to believe it. It was at this point when the beginnings of anger started to kick in. There was no clean-cut shift from denial to anger, one emotional state didn’t suddenly swoop in and knock the other off its pedestal. In his essay, Kubler emphasises that there is no ‘linear timeline in grief’. In my case, anger was born from my denial, it stemmed from no longer being able to keep denying what was now undisputable. I started to project this anger onto other people, getting annoyed when they openly discussed the details of what happened at work. What is there to talk about? He's gone, where was everyone constantly shoving the fact down my throat? To this day I still don’t know the full story of the accident because I was so against discussing it. All I wanted to do was bury my head in the sand, and it seemed like no one was going to let me do it in peace.

My anger started to turn ugly, I remember seeing a post someone made about how much Joe meant to them and thinking: why would you post this? You weren’t even that close to him? It felt disingenuous, like suddenly people were popping up out of the woodworks to add their two cents and make it all about them. I saw this attitude reflected in others around me, the occasional sly comment, a judgemental pause of silence, as if because you were closer to Joe it allowed you to police how others grieve and to what degree.

*Dusts off psychology A-level certificate*

Building any kind of relationship as a foreigner in China is a social experiment in its own right. Unable to communicate with the locals, unfamiliar of the cultural norms, and oftentimes going days without seeing an foreigner you haven’t already met, you begin to heavily rely upon the few friends you do make in China. Add on to this a 6-hour time differences and the Great VPN Firewall of China restricting accessibility to family and friends back home, you find yourself living in a social bubble. This same isolationism can be seen in reality shows like Love Island and Big Brother, which force their contestants into environments with little to no outside communication. The resulting effects is that relationships, both romantic and platonic, develop at an abnormally fast rate; it made the few months that I knew Joe much more potent than was normal. In such a short space of time Joe had carved a space for himself in my life: he was a colleague, friend, and brother all rolled into one. If I was stressed over something I came to him, if I was proud of something I came to him. But this still didn’t change the fact that, in the grand scheme of things, we were only a chapter in each-others stories, and so when it came to mourning his death, an overwhelming sense of inadequacy and guilt began to emerge.

In the same way that I judged others, I was judging myself. I began to question the validity of my own feelings, whether the short time I knew him justified such strong heartache or if I, like so many of the movies I watched before, simply up-playing a role I thought was appropriate. Did I deserve to feel so sad over someone I barely knew? Who was I to have enjoyed his last few months on earth while his family and lifelong friends couldn’t. When I was sat next to his family at the funeral, I felt like an imposter.

‘Acceptance is often confused with the notion of being “all right” or “OK” with what has happened’-Kübler-Ross & David Kessler

I wish someone had told me beforehand that acceptance does not always equal peace, sometimes it just leads to more heartache and depression. The comforting warmth of denial and distracting heat of anger had been rudely ripped away and what am I left with now? The cold hard truth, what a scam.

Accepting that my friend was gone didn’t suddenly make it easier to digest, if anything it made me question everything. Though it seems obvious, it wasn’t his death that was the hardest to grasp, it was the idea that he no longer existed, or at least not in the way he once did.

Kubler describes this stage as ‘accepting the reality that our loved one is physically gone and recognizing that this new reality is the permanent reality’. In the end, no matter what you believe, notions about an afterlife are all well and good, but it doesn’t change the fact that those passed are no longer in the here and now. How can a walking, talking person, with their own thoughts and dreams for the future, now simply be food for worms? How can someone who was previously physical only now exist in the memories of others? I didn’t want the responsibility of keeping someone alive through only my mind and a few pictures.

‘‘There is not a typical response to loss as there is no typical loss. Our grief is as individual as our lives’

If there is one thing I took away from this experience, it’s the understanding that grieving is a fiercely personal act, idiosyncratic to the individual. I witnessed friends who cried for weeks on end after hearing the news, while others did so only once. I saw friends find comfort in the company of others, and those who found peace through solitude. Some gained a stronger relationship with God, whereas some started to question everything that they once believed.  I realised that the cause behind my judgement of all these tv shows was the same thing that made me condemn those who posted their feelings on social media: I am a very private person, and so these open displays of emotion didn’t relate to me. That’s not to say that I didn’t feel the exact same emotions as everyone else did, but when it comes to my emotions, I’m an introvert at heart. I don’t post my feelings on social media, I rarely cry in front of others, and big public displays of affection only make me cringe. If given the option, I will always choose to implode than explode. This ultimately lead me to my third and final revelation: Everyone grieves in their own way, there is no right, cookie-cutter, one size fits all way to grieve. In the end, it doesn’t matter how you grieve or how long for, it’s about allowing yourself to experience the emotion and working through it to one day achieve some form of equilibrium to this new reality.  It’s a journey we all must walk, and one we can only do ourselves.

For anyone who is currently dealing with death for the first time, here are a few websites where you can find support:

https://www.supportline.org.uk/problems/bereavement/

https://www.cruse.org.uk/get-help/helpline

https://www.itv.com/thismorning/bereavement-helplines

#death #grief #friend #loss #mourning #5 stages of grief #five stages of grief

[mikauzoran]

Adrienette Drabble Twenty-Three: Slip

Meanwhile, Marinette was screaming into her throw pillow.

Tikki floated down and landed on Marinette’s knee. “It’s not that bad,” she tried to comfort her chosen.

Comforting Marinette had been a Herculean effort as of late. The freak outs and the breakdowns had only been getting worse, and, most of the time, Marinette couldn’t even identify why she was upset. The random, unpredictable, nameless panic (horror, dread, guilt) Marinette felt was wearing her down.

Marinette removed the pillow from her face to stare, lost, at Tikki. “Adrien thinks it’s great that I’m hanging out with Luka. He wants to hang out the three of us together. Can you imagine that? ‘Luka, this is the guy I’m still hopelessly in love with. Adrien, this is the guy I’ve been low-key crushing on for a few years now. And we’re dating! Surprise! I know you didn’t think there was anything more I could do to grind your heart into dust, but, guess what? I found a way!’”

Marinette groaned as she picked the pillow back up to resume smothering herself.

“Marinette,” Tikki called softly. “You owe it to yourself to give other people a chance. You spent years turning down others for Adrien, and there have been plenty of times when you regretted it. You’ve been thinking ‘what if’ about Luka for a long time now. Leave your baggage from Adrien at the door and let yourself be fully present with Luka.”

“Easier said than done,” Marinette retorted, but the pillow muffled her voice. “I’m afraid I’m not being fair to Luka.”

“You told him there was someone else when he asked you out,” Tikki reminded. “He went into this with his eyes open.”

“I don’t think I was as clear as I should have been about how big of a deal the someone else was,” Marinette muttered.

“Being with Luka makes you happy,” Tikki argued. “Let yourself be happy, Marinette. You don’t have to feel guilty about being happy.”

Marinette snorted. “I feel like I do when it’s at someone else’s expense.”

“Adrien doesn’t know,” Tikki reasoned. “You’re not hurting him.”

“Yet,” Marinette spat. “He’s going to find out.”

Tikki pursed her lips. “…Maybe…maybe just focus on yourself right now. As much as Adrien isn’t emotionally healthy enough to be in a relationship at the moment, I don’t really think you are either. You’ve gotten better in recent years, but you’re about as guilty as he is of obsessing and idolizing. Until you’re able to accept him—not just as the gorgeous, smart, kind model but also as the damaged, jealous, self-sacrificing mess that he is—with all of his baggage in tow, you have no business being with that boy. You’ll only make him worse if you’re not healthy yourself and willing to be in a real relationship that’s going to take work.”

Marinette tucked the throw pillow behind her and laid back with a sigh. “Time to put my big girl pants on and get to work, huh?”

Tikki nodded. “Get out of your own head. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and sorry for others and just put that effort into fixing things already.”

With another sigh, Marinette nodded resolutely. “All right. Time to do better…. Do you think maybe I should get a guidance counselor or something? Nino mentioned that talking things out might help. I’ve been talking to him, and I know he doesn’t mind, that he’s happy to be there for me, but…it’s really not fair to poor Nino.”

“I think a guidance counselor might be good, Marinette. You can at least give it a try and see if it helps,” Tikki encouraged.

Marinette nodded again. “It couldn’t hurt. Okay. All right. I’ll talk to my parents.”

“Good.” Tikki hesitated before tentatively floating up to nuzzle Marinette’s cheek. “You’re doing a good job, Marinette. I’m really proud of you.”

Marinette chuckled and returned the nuzzle. “Thanks, Tikki.”

They both breathed a sigh of relief as they separated, smiling shyly at one another.

Their bond had been stretched to the limit over the past month. Trust had been broken, but things were slowly beginning to feel okay again and gradually return to normal.

“…So…you talked to Adrien,” Tikki remarked, unsure if she was allowed to speak on the topic.

Marinette nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I did, and, except for the part at the end, I think it went really well.”

Tikki nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “Yes, you two sounded like your usual selves. It…it was good to hear you sound happy.”

Marinette grimaced. “I haven’t been very happy lately, have I?”

Tikki slowly shook her head. “Only when you’re with Luka, really. I mean, you do have your moments now and then, but…it’s like you’ve had a little black cloud following you around these past few weeks.”

Marinette smiled sadly. “I feel…weighed down.”

Tikki went to curl up on Marinette’s shoulder. “You’ll bounce back.”

“I hope so,” Marinette sighed.

“…Adrien seems to have bounced back rather quickly, considering how devastated he was at first,” Tikki cautiously remarked.

“Yeah,” Marinette hummed contemplatively. “I honestly thought Nino was lying to try to make me feel better, but…Adrien is an optimistic person to start with, and he’s had a whole life full of personal tragedies to practice bouncing back from…. I didn’t mean to be more of the same for him.”

“Shh. Go back to blaming me for that,” Tikki coaxed.

Marinette tipped her head to rest against Tikki. “No. I always get on Adrien’s case for blaming others for his problems. I shouldn’t be a hypocrite.”

Tikki pet Marinette’s cheek. “Let’s do something else. Let’s do something fun.”

“I’m too tired for fun,” Marinette groaned.

Tikki bit her lip and decided to take a calculated risk in hopes of distracting her chosen from her sullen mood. “Then how about we look up those photos of Adrien at karaoke on Thursday. There are always surreptitious photos of him on social media. I bet you could just Google ‘Adrien Agreste karaoke’ and get a bunch of photos and videos.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes and scrunched up her brow as she considered Tikki’s proposal. “That…I mean…I am curious about his outfit, and I’d be interested in hearing him sing, but…wouldn’t it be wrong to ogle photos of another guy—especially that guy—while I’m dating Luka? That’s not cheating, is it?”

Tikki rolled her lips back over her teeth and bit down thoughtfully. “Hmm. I think…it’s okay. You’re not flirting with Adrien or exchanging physical affection. You’re just looking at photos.”

“I feel like it’s possible to mentally and emotionally be unfaithful,” Marinette grumbled. “I mean, I wouldn’t want Adrien to be looking at pictures of other girls and thinking of girls besides me, so…”

Tikki winced. “You mean Luka.”

Marinette’s face went as red as Alya’s favourite lipstick. “Yeah. That one. That’s the one I meant.”

“Then don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Tikki sighed. “I’m not a human being, Marinette. I don’t fully understand your system of values and morals, so you’re the best judge of this. Don’t do anything you think is wrong.”

“Well, as evidenced just now by my slipup, apparently I’m already the kind of scum that emotionally cheats on her wonderful, sweet, kind, understanding boyfriend, so what more harm could looking at some pictures do?” Marinette scoffed in frustration with herself as she opened up Google on her phone.

The first search results came back and fried Marinette’s brain. “Ngh,” she whimpered.

Tikki floated up to take a look. “Oh my,” she snickered. “I can’t believe Plagg let him go out like that. No wonder he was getting hit on so aggressively. I’m no expert in the attractiveness of human beings, but he looks like a desirable mate. That outfit really displays all of his assets: strong arms, core strength, toned—”

“—Yes, Tikki. I can see his assets, thank you. No need to draw any more attention to them,” Marinette groaned. “…I’m just now realizing that I have totally screwed up my life.”

Tikki arched an eyebrow. “Why? What do you mean?”

“I could be having sex with that right now, and I’m not,” Marinette whined, jabbing a finger at her screen. “Clearly, I have committed some egregious error.”

Tikki rolled her eyes. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You know as well as I do that a relationship is more than just lust. You want more from him than that, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed. “And he gets enough of being objectified on a daily basis, but…guys aren’t the only ones with hormones, and I’ve wanted him for literal years.”

“Well, you don’t need to be sleeping with anyone right now. Being someone’s mate complicates things, Marinette. It’s messy. I’ve seen it before, and I’m telling you that you don’t need those kinds of complications.”

Marinette grumbled sullenly. “Nino and Alya manage just fine.”

“Nino and Alya have excellent communication and honesty on their side,” Tikki retorted.

“But…my partnership with Chat is unshakeable,” Marinette argued. “We communicate with glances and minuscule muscle twitches. We’ve taken nonverbal communication and made it into an art form!”

“You and Adrien may be in perfect sync when you fight together, but, out of battle, you’re not on the same page. You’re not even on the same chapter. You might not be reading the same book!” Tikki scoffed. “Your verbal communication could use some work. And your honesty.”

“Are we forgetting whose fault the honesty issue is? I’m as honest with him as I can be,” Marinette argued.

“You don’t trust him.”

“I trust him more than anyone!” Marinette laughed bitterly. “I trust him with my life.”

“But not your heart,” Tikki countered. “Okay. To be fair to you, you did need some space to sort through your feelings for Adrien and Chat after you found out they were one and the same. That was fine. You did the mature thing to recognize you weren’t ready to be in a relationship even though you wanted to. But now that you’ve processed your feelings and realize you still love him, what are you doing?”

“I’m dating Luka for some stability…to try to see if I can be happy with somebody else…and so that I don’t have regrets about never dating other people,” Marinette recited from the list she had written out before agreeing to date Luka.

Tikki nodded diplomatically. “Okay. Yes. That too, and that’s good, Marinette. That’s healthy, but what I was going to say was that you’re hiding. You’re scared to accept Adrien as he is. You’ve wanted him so long and imagined what it would be like to be together, and now that it’s happening, you’re scared because it isn’t anything like you’d dreamed it would be. He’s not exactly the person you thought he was, and you’re intimidated by the amount of work you’re going to have to put in to make a relationship with him work. And that’s okay,” Tikki assured.

“That’s okay,” she repeated. “It’s fine to be scared. It’s normal to have doubts. It’s okay if you decide you really don’t want to be in a relationship with Adrien after all. You have the right to make that decision. If you decide it’s too hard or too draining or too overwhelming, it’s perfectly okay to say no.”

“Then why are you scolding me?” Marinette muttered.

“Because you’re not dealing with the problem; you’re avoiding it. It was fine to create some space between you and Adrien when you were sorting out your feelings and coming to terms with things, but now you’re just avoiding him because you don’t want to take the next step and deal with the issues,” Tikki accused as kindly as she could, hoping to help Marinette see where she needed to go from there to start fixing things.

Marinette frowned. “But Nino said that I should keep away from Adrien so he could get better and not end up using me as a crutch.”

“Ask Nino if he still thinks that’s the case, but that was, what? Two weeks ago? And Adrien sounded like he’d made huge improvements on the phone just now. I think it’s time to start trying to repair the friendship.”

“I don’t know if I can go back to how things were with Adrien without cheating on Luka,” Marinette admitted with a sigh of disappointment in herself. She was supposed to be better than this.

“Well, don’t jump back in where you left off. Give the both of you a little more room than that—no snuggling, no texting each other until early in the morning, and no more pseudo-dates—but start actively trying to be friends with him again. Maybe hang out in a group?”

Marinette made a soft, reluctant sound. “Maybe…maybe next week.”

“Don’t put it off,” Tikki warned. “You’ll never actually carry through if you start procrastinating now.”

“I called him today, didn’t I? I talked to him of my own free will. That’s progress, isn’t it?” Marinette whined. “This is hard! I’m really, really terrified of screwing this up and hurting him even more!”

Tikki flew in to softly pet Marinette’s hair. “Shh. It’s okay. You’re doing well, but I know you’re capable of pushing yourself a little harder. It may not be pleasant, but it will be worth it. Your friendship with Adrien is worth it.”

Marinette made a small noise of agreement. “I’ll…talk to Nino…in a day or two.”

“I’m going to remind you to do so,” Tikki warned. “You can do this, Marinette. You’re Ladybug.”

“Sometimes I don’t feel much like Ladybug,” Marinette groaned, waking up her phone screen to stare at the photos of Adrien.

She sighed dreamily and wondered what it would feel like to run her hands over his—

“—This is definitely cheating on Luka,” she decided, forcing herself to close the window with the photos. She clicked open one of the videos instead to listen to the music.

The one she selected ended up being Adrien singing Mama Mia.

Guilt flooded Marinette’s chest at the sincerity with which Adrien sang the words.

She skipped to another video, the one of Elise, Chloé, and Adrien singing It’s Raining Men. She watched Nino and Adrien’s duet after that and was in the middle of Adrien singing Like a Prayer when her phone rang.

Marinette fumbled the device and had to retrieve it from under her chaise. She glanced at the screen, and even more guilt was heaped on top of the generous serving she was already wading through.

It was Luka calling.

“H-Hey!” she greeted, injecting false cheerfulness into her voice. “Hey. I was just…I was just thinking of you.”

She had got to get her life in order. Things could not continue like this. She was only hurting everyone involved by being indecisive and hesitating.

She remembered Tikki’s advice to be fully present with Luka.

“Hey, are you free this evening?” she suddenly interjected. “If so, let’s go on a date. I can make dinner for us, and we can snuggle on the couch and watch a movie or maybe go for a walk by the Seine. You could play me your newest song, and I could show you the designs I’ve been working on…. I’m kind of feeling a little down, and I…I want to see you.”

#Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Tikki #Mikau's Writings #There's a Daisy

[goodvibesatpeace]

Spirituality: Synchronicity: The Universe's Software Programs

Considered to be an a-causal connection of two or more psycho-social phenomena, modern interpretations of synchronicity could be seen as the person who checks their phone for a call, only to receive the call immediately upon checking, a Deja-vu including but not limited to information from dreams occurring in waking life, or a seemingly random string of events leading the subject to a specific goal that could not have been achieved had their original plans gone accordingly—and of course any number of other events.

In order to understand these events, it is imperative to understand the postulates of precognitive ability, telepathy, and other forms of extra-sensory perception, as scientists have realistically been trying to make the Mainstream Media aware of ESP’s existence since the early 20th century with minimal success.

Unfortunately the only attention that any scientific studies receive from the press in the fields of parapsychology are the ones that get a good laugh, and the serious scientific analysis is engulfed in the tidal wave of sensory data that creates today’s age of social technology.

However, once people begin to understand the collective unconsciousness as the earth’s magnetic field, and the archetypes as specific primordial frequencies that the mechanics of everyone’s brains are apt to tune into, et cetera, it will be clear to see that ESP is not a matter of “having special powers” but simply more a matter of two human brains communicating with each other in the same way two neurons communicate through synapses.

Moving forward (or backwards), it is important to point out, as always, that humans’ ancient ancestors were well aware of all of these concepts well before Modern Man; which is not very coincidental since Jung was inspired largely in part by eastern mysticism with his psychotherapy.

However, “synchronicity” philosophy can be found in both eastern and western schools of spirituality.

Generally speaking, the eastern synchronicity was considered Taoism, which is a metaphysical school of philosophy that involves asceticism and meditation in order to further understand and perceive the Tao, which is the “universal flowing one-ness” of everything.

In modern terminology, the idea of the Tao can very much be considered a software engine, computing an existence through pre-existing algorithms that can be diligently studied and eventually interpreted.

The interpretation part was much more emphasized in the west, as eastern mysticism tends to shun “conceptualizing”, “assuming”, or “expecting”, but even Taoists attempted to interpret the language of physical phenomena, the definitive collection of their work titled the I Ching in the West, one of the things that Jung was quite fond of in his psychotherapy.

Divination was the ideology of synchronicity in the ancient west, and was not so much secular like a religion or Taoism, but rather was an umbrella category of crude “ancient-science”, like numerology, astrology and other traditional occult practices.

Specifically, divination’s primary postulation was that every personal interaction with the exterior physical world (each physical “effect”, basically) could be considered something similar to a “word” or “phrase” that had latent information within it, whether the subject interpreted it or not.

This same general process is also used in numerology, when the numerical value of alphabetical digits is determined and reduced down to its core value through specific calculation.

In this sense, it could be considered that divination is the acknowledgement of the synonymous nature of waking life and dreaming; meaning that both are perceived as linear experience of the self, and in both, the “outside” world can be considered an effect of a person’s unconscious projection.

In dreams this is obviously a bit more evident, but even in reality a person creates not the physical phenomena itself, but the entire categorical basis of it within their brain, which is clearly unique as a fingerprint compared to anyone else’s interpretation of the phenomena, and thus completely different and unique to the person’s own unconscious.

The Dalai Lama was quoted on the subject saying, “I am open to the guidance of synchronicity, and do not let expectations hinder my path,” and Terence McKenna referred to the quantum frequency spectrum in which synchronicities occur as the “Cosmic Giggle”.

Researcher David Wilcock wrote a book on the subject titled, The Synchronicity Key, and David Icke, Michael Talbot, and Graham Hancock have discussed the subject, among others.

Dr. Michael Persinger and his colleague Todd Murphy have, although not using the term “synchronicity” or any spiritual terminology, released an incredible amount of scientific data revealing the mechanisms that could quite literally describe the realities of Synchronicity and other Jungian concepts.

Even the Police released their album Synchronicity in 1983, which was openly inspired by the Jungian concept, and John Constantine of Vertigo Comics is often seen riding the metaphysical “Synchronicity Highway” (McKenna’s Cosmic Giggle) in order to get a leg up on many of his adventures.

In general the pervasive and unavoidable presence of synchronicity becomes reportedly much more evident under the influence of natural psychedelic drugs, which goes hand in hand with the ancient shamanic traditions surrounding the philosophy.

Setting aside all the esoteric philosophy and ancient tradition, synchronicity is indeed dealing with a frequency spectrum just like everything else, and the main broadcasters into this spectrum within the human body are the brain and the heart.

Ultimately the real tool to this spectrum can be considered a “self-aware consciousness” in general. This however can be quite difficult due to the multiplicity of layers within the brain acknowledged by just about every psychiatrist and psychologist in history, although the definitions vary substantially at times.

The reason for this is the reality that the different sections of the brain can be considered different organs in terms of goals and use, and because of this, humans are bombarded with a woven web of information that is basically a bunch of simple organs communicating biological responses to each other.

This is not to say that human consciousness is just the projection of a bunch of organs—but more to illustrate that the brain is not the pinnacle of intelligence that most people think it to be, and is instead just another organ looking to perform functions.

However, underneath all these functions is an intangible but undeniable core self; whether it be considered a “soul” an “intuition, a “higher self” or simply “enlightenment.”

There are four universal layers of the brain’s projection: We have the Self, the Anima/Animus, the Persona, and the Shadow.

When a person is born, they are physically one sex, so conceptually their consciousness becomes inverted at its root so as to allow the person a piece of the full spectrum; meaning that a woman has the male aspect of the Animus embodying her reason and spirit, and a man has the female aspect of the Anima embodying his sensuality and intimacy.

Some even spiritually characterizing this as a man’s link to his beloved throughout time. The persona is the literal cognitive mask a person paints of themselves for the rest of the world, the Self is the full fractal collection of all within the brain (often represented by a mandala).

The self is also often considered to be the positive spectrum of the whole—the yin, so to speak—which brings us to the fourth layer: the counter-mimicry of the self, the inversion, the Shadow—the yang.

The synthesis of these layers of perception, thoroughly described by Jung in his work and expanded upon by many others, is what a Taoist would call honing his mind to the flow of the Tao, or even what Thoreau emphasized when he spoke of sucking the raw marrow from the bones of life—it is learning to navigate the waves of one’s own mind, because only then will one truly be able to accurately navigate the waves of the world around them.

Of course, the simple definition to all this would be following one’s “intuition”, but unfortunately this is easier said than done.

Most people believe in themselves to such a little extent that making personal decisions is difficult enough, let alone making decisions on the present environment in order to accurately gauge the conditions of the future—in the present.

The only conclusions that can and should be drawn from this are that synchronicity events are a recurring and intimate piece of the human experience. The modern era is so unbelievably chaotic that it’s difficult to tune into anything these days, let alone the programming of the universe.

The translation of the programs of the universe is one’s own intuition; everyone experiences these synchronicities whether they are aware of it or not, similarly to the way that everyone dreams whether they recall or not; and finally, that the existence of synchronicity events further demonstrates the very fine line between waking life and dreaming.

No-Nonsense Naysayers will be inclined like always to chalk these things up to impractical reasoning and gullibility, but those who have experienced these intimate moments with the world around them cannot be swayed, especially since once a synchronicity has been experienced, they usually continue and often even the frequency increases.

Those who have not yet experienced this should take note to study the work of Carl Jung, and the ancient metaphysic philosophy of Taoism—and to a lesser extent the ideology of divination as well.

Although it should again be noted that this was not a brotherhood of diligent thinkers, but rather a definition of something that was emerging in the culture in general, and as a result is a bit more convoluted.

If a person wishes to unveil the programming of the universe, it is not particularly difficult, nor is it unnatural, but it requires a mindset without mental friction.

Although still largely misunderstood/unknown by modern science, Synchronicity Events cannot be denied their existence or their pertinence, and those who continue to remain blind to the universal coding will simply be left behind by the others, as they continue to ride the wave and explore their own nature through the interactive and multi-layered existence around them.

#spirituality #synchronicity #dejavu #carl jung #universe #universal #esp #numerology

[neondnp]

my ii m&g experience ♥

(long rambling and pic spam ahead)

arriving + waiting in line

prior to and upon arriving at the venue, i was SO incredibly nervous to the point that it nearly overpowered my excitement. my heart had been racing all week and my stomach was in knots. i’d been anticipating this very day for almost a year and i was absolutely terrified that something would go wrong. i kept having thoughts like, “what if there’s a ton of unexpected traffic backed up for hours and i miss the meet and greet?” “what if there’s something wrong with my ticket??” “what if i forget something important and i’m denied access?” “what if i DIE before i get there!?” luckily, none of my delusional fears from my panicked state of mind came true and most of my anxiety disappeared after i was given my wristband.

meeting and conversing with the lovely new friends i made in line put me at enough ease that my ability to comprehend the intense reality of the situation was beginning to vanish. everything was too dreamlike to feel real. was i really mere minutes away from meeting my idols??

suddenly, everyone started screaming. i looked up and saw phil standing at the rail. i nearly had a damn heart attack!! that’s phil! he literally looks like an angel! i heard dan’s voice from the other corner and turned around to see him right above us! that’s dan!! he glows! o m g !! there they are!! in person! holy s*** that’s actually them!!! whatever they said to us either completely went over my head or was entirely forgotten because i don’t recall any of it. this was the most surreal moment of my life.

shoutout to the girl on twitter who filmed some of this and caught my reaction after they waved and left lmao

i guess this is what my mind being completely blown looks like??!?

my adrenaline was through the roof, but i was too stupefied to feel emotional yet. my throat was drying as the line in front of me gradually got shorter. the lack of air conditioning upstairs didn’t help. i was close enough to talk to marianne (a queen, btw) about what i wanted to give them. i had a letter from a friend and two of my ii themed d&p drawings that i made into magnets. she told me she would keep them and give them to dan and phil after the meet and greet. disappointing, but understandable. i wrote my name on the magnets but they won’t have a clue who i am. oh well. here’s what they look like:

before i knew it, it was my turn to meet them. a friend i met in line agreed to film my meet and greet but was too nervous to do so once we approached our turns. although it sucks to not have footage, i fully understand having anxiety. she’s very sweet and i’d never want to cause her any stress.

the actual meeting and greeting:

before i get into the personal details and talk about my interaction with them, i’ll describe their irl voices and appearances. 

i’d say they sound exactly the same in person. they don’t necessarily look any different from how they do in pictures and videos, just more radiant; especially phil. his hair somehow looks even darker irl and there’s an indescribably beautiful contrast between his black hair, vibrant eyes, and pale skin. it makes him look otherworldly. his features are sharp. dan’s stubble is actually quite prominent, even from a distance. his features are soft. there’s not really much else to say about his appearance; he’s just as gorgeous in the flesh as he is on a screen. they were just as tall as i expected them to be so i wasn’t alarmed by their height. it did, however, feel different to look up at them and see them from a new (significantly lower) angle as opposed to seeing them from an eye-level camera angle. the same can be said about viewing them on stage from a close orchestra seat.

now, onto the good part! i wish i could remember more details, but meeting them was such a blur that i didn’t feel like it even happened at all until the next day (more on that later). most of my dreams are more vivid than this memory is. my brain was majorly lagging from the moment i was far enough ahead in line to be off the stairs, and my entire consciousness seemed to exist in some alternate dimension when i walked toward their direction to be greeted. i remember one or both of them saying, “hiii!” and dan saying “thanks for coming to see us!” i remember phil instantly opening his arms and asking if i wanted a hug. i think i said, “hi! yes i do!” i remember it being so much easier to talk to them than i thought it would be. words came naturally despite having very little awareness of what i was saying and—due to being in such a daze—completely forgetting to say any of the important things i’ve always wanted to tell them. they were both so warm, gentle, and welcoming. i was too out of it to realize this at the time, but looking back, they treated me like i was an old friend of theirs; like i was someone who mattered. that warms my heart. they genuinely care about making us feel comfortable and relaxed.

dan did most of the talking. i don’t remember what either of their hugs felt like, but i do remember dan giving me one of his awkward “dan hugs” lol. dan and i were both wearing striped shirts and he said that we were “totally coordinated with our stripes” which made me WAY happier than it should have, but oh man i was BEAMING. “we are!”

when phil asked if i’d like to have something signed, i took out a print of the two portraits i drew of them. “yes, can you sign my art please?” after handing the print to them, dan said, “oh my god did you draw these??” and i responded with something dumb like, “i did! it took me like my entire life but yeah!!” i really wish i could have seen them react to my drawings, but i didn’t think to look at their faces when i showed them. in fact, i’m not even sure if i made eye contact with them at all. they complimented me on my art but i don’t remember what they said. i'm not 100% certain, but i think dan called it incredible.

dan offered to take the selfie so i handed him my phone and we all got close and smiled for the camera. i noticed from other people’s meet and greet pics that phil had a tendency to lean his head in next to fans, but i’d of course forgotten about this detail. i was so weak later on when i saw how close our faces were in the group photo, w o w !! i asked if we could take individual pictures as well and dan said, “of course!”

this is the part i remember the most clearly. taking individual pictures was almost like hugging them again, only better because i was a little more aware—i was almost able to actually process it this time. looking at them you’d expect to feel nothing but firmness and bones, but they’re both delightfully squishy; especially dan. they’re two tall adorable teddy bears. dan fondly said, “thank you philip” when phil took our picture and it was the cutest thing. after the pictures were taken, i thanked them for about the tenth time. i remember saying “thank you” and “thank you so much” to almost everything they said and did. i probably would have thanked them if they accidentally stepped on my foot or dropped my phone. they told me to enjoy the show and i thanked them once more. i wished them a good show and at some point i think i said, “it was really nice meeting you.” we waved and said our goodbyes to each other.

and then it was over.

wait, it’s over. what the hell just happened?

i literally forgot everything on the spot.

everything happened so rapidly and it ended before i had even begun to take any of it in. i really wish i could have absorbed the moment more. i wish i could have said more. this may sound silly, but none of it felt real. it didn’t initially feel like, “aah i just met dan and phil!!” instead, it felt more like, “...did i really meet dan and phil? wouldn’t i have remembered meeting them if it really happened?” i was so disappointed in myself. how was i that spaced out the whole time? i expected a more emotional experience, but it was all so surreal that i wasn’t even in touch with reality, let alone with my emotions. i didn’t know how to react, so i blanked out into a strange semiconscious state and i hated myself for it. 

i went on to realize that meeting them was indeed a very emotional experience; i just needed to fully recover from my daze for it to hit me. while most of my memory is still a blur, several small details came back to me the following day bit by bit. it was enough for me to look back on and miss. it took me days to recall everything i wrote about above. i did cry. i was emotionally impacted, just not right away. it had to catch up with me. meeting them was absolutely amazing. looking at my pictures and signed artwork elates me. i actually met dan and phil!

even though i didn’t say what i wanted to, i’m grateful that i managed to talk to them at all. i was so sure i’d either stumble over my words or end up speaking in my stupid high-pitched nervous voice. i was also afraid i’d cry in front of them and i didn’t. it went smoothly and i survived. i have a few regrets, but i still loved it. i loved them.

i’d do it again in a heartbeat.

yes i was very extra with the editing but these pics mean a lot to me and i wanted them to look the best they could

what i didn’t get to say: 

@danielhowell @amazingphil thank you for inspiring so much creativity, motivation, and passion within me. you guys are the reason i wanted to start drawing again. you’re the reason why i stopped immediately giving up. you’re the reason i’ve met so many spectacular people and became part of such a diverse and extraordinary community. you guys give me a reason to smile. i love you, thank you for everything ♥ - alexis

#dan howell #phil lester #interactive introverts #ii nashville #daniel howell #amazingphil #meet and greet #personal #very very personal actually #it took several hours to write this and i cried through half of it #dnp #dan and phil #posts by alexis #*content #.txt #*mycontent

[mumofadaofficial-blog]

The Gap Filler

Firstly, a massive thank you to everyone that has read my first post! Your messages and comments have been overwhelming and you will never know how much it means to me to know that you all care enough to read our story - you guys are friggin amazing!! And I am so pleased to see that what I am doing seems to be helping or comforting others in some sort of way.

SO - last time I took you through Adas birth and getting her home. I touched very very briefly on the stressful time we had before Ada came off oxygen so I want to give you a run down on that. As traumatic as Adas entrance into the world was, life didn’t seem to get much easier for us and I think it almost completely fried my brain, but hey, we’re all crazy in one way or another right?!

Going back to KL hospital was an exstremely hard thing for me. The memories of what had happened there were still very fresh and very raw. Ultimately though, if it hadn’t of been for the team of people that initially worked on her, she wouldn’t be here today. So I sucked it up, put on my big girl pants and was ready to give it another chance. 

There was definitely a big difference to Norwich, mainly I would say communication issues that I’m hoping lessons have been learnt from now. From going through this I have realised that parents really need to be included and told what is happening every step of the way, something which I think can easily be overlooked. When your Childs life is in the hands of someone else you NEED to know what is happening. 

I don’t want to dwell too much on the things that were done wrong once we returned but it was a struggle and no parent should have to feel like they are battling with the providers of your Childs care - my advice would be to stand your ground, be strong, ask as many questions as you want and make sure you are happy with the answers and information given. 

I also think its important to remember that not all people take the same pride and care in their job as others do, so we always tried to make a point of thanking the people that went the extra mile for us. 

On the day that we were finally able to take Ada home we were not allowed to do so until she had undergone an MRI scan on her brain, we were told this was just routine. There wasn’t much explanation as to why. Instantly you think to yourself ‘omg, whats wrong?’ ‘Is there something wrong with her brain’ ‘is this routine or are they hiding something from me’ After doing research and asking questions, it is a routine thing to happen after a baby has been starved of oxygen at birth. Thankfully with Ada there was no signs of damage to her brain in the initial overview and this was then backed up by a specialist team at Nottingham (you still can’t stop your brain from thinking ‘what if?’ Whilst waiting to get those results back). After this she then had to have blood tests and a scan on her liver due to certain enzymes not being at an appropriate level. Without sounding thick, I didn’t even know what that meant and my head was just not processing anything properly. The information given to us on what would happen if it didn’t sort itself out was also very patchy. 

Now taking a new born home on oxygen is bloody tough, you find yourself confined to your bedroom or to the lounge, the rooms where we had the oxygen canisters. And you feel very restricted and trapped. So much so that I pretty much only went to my mum and dads or to Tesco if I was feeling super brave. Trying to get a baby out of the car is hard enough when you’ve never done it before, let alone having a back pack with oxygen in it too. Personally we felt that we couldn’t travel up north to see Nathans family as it would be too hard, so unfortunately people had to miss out. Trying to run a house when confined to those two rooms is very hard, that whole sleep whilst the baby sleeps is not even a real thing! When Ada was sleeping I wanted to do my washing, clean up, eat something or even just sit outside and have a coffee. Looking back, I wish I had relaxed a bit more and just thought fuck it! Those jobs were not going to please anyone but myself. Being easier on myself after having a c section would probably of been a better option and I shouldn’t of pushed myself to do so much when it was sometimes really hard to do so. Thankfully Nathan was a good team mate and I have lovely family and friends who all tried to keep me sane and help as much as possible in the process.

In order to assess how Ada was coping and trying to wean her off oxygen it meant having weekly 24hr assessments on an oxygen monitor at home. If you haven’t ever had any experience with one of these its a clever, annoying as shit, little machine that shows her oxygen saturation levels via a sensor on her foot. If they drop below 90 it makes the loudest most annoying bleep you’ve ever heard…great when you’ve just got her to sleep and shes moved and knocked her sensor off 🙄. They are used a lot on premature babies, however, Ada was a full term, strong bruiser of a baby who really enjoyed throwing her feet around and getting into massive strops! (I have absolutely no idea where she gets her attitude from?!) It soon became apparent that trying to get accurate readings from the machine with the amount of movement she was making was going to be hard. The machine would go back, data would be downloaded and the readings were not accurate enough due to movement. It felt like a constant ACCESS DENIED. Back to stage 1, which is really hard on your mental state and emotions when you are desperate to get your baby better. This would mean we would have to repeat the 24hr process and her oxygen level couldn’t be reduced, even though as her parents we knew she was ok and capable. I was left with no choice but to provide a written documentation of EVERY movement that made her sensor drop throughout the 24hr period, sometimes meaning I wouldn’t sleep just to be able to prove that she was doing well. We’re talking like mental person sending in four A4 pages of movements! This went on for weeks, the longer it went on, the stronger Ada was getting and the harder it was to get the readings. At the time she was also struggling with silent reflux which seemed to play up especially for us on the days she had her monitor on - thank god we have now found infant gaviscon!! 

As well as trying to cope with the oxygen there was a lot of different appointments at home, the hospital and doctors. Blood test for her liver enzymes again, health visitor, collecting oxygen monitor, hip scan, monitor again, physio, dropping monitor off, monitor again, dropping it off, another blood test, monitor again, health visitor, monitor again, immunisations, monitor again, physio, monitor again, consultant appointment, blood test, another hip scan, more immunisations, monitor again and physio - you get my drift and I’ve probably missed some out! Whilst all of these appointments were happening I was then having to chase for answers and information on the outcomes of all of these as the communication was very poor. But if you ask enough questions and make enough phone calls, eventually someone will answer you and you will find out what you need to know. Personally I don’t think it should have to be like that and it makes the situation a million times more stressful. But I do understand that staffing levels don’t always allow you to be the main concern and if your out of sight you can often be out of mind. 

Gradually throughout all of this and my crazy note writing Ada was weaned down off her oxygen one step at a time, then it was stopped in the daytime so she only had to go on it at night. 

Finally on the 27th of September we got the call that I had been longing to get! Adas consultant was happy for us to turn her oxygen off, completely! No messing around at night, no more changing plasters and making her face sore (making you feel like the worst person in the world), no more fighting to put her cannula up her nose and no more sleepless stressful nights with a monitor bleeping in your ear! I cried and then rang Nathan and cried a bit more, then I probably rang anyone else in my phone book that would answer, and you guessed it, cried some more. For once throughout this they were tears of happiness and relief. She had finally done it, our miracle baby had stuck her fingers up to the world and smashed it! In the words of the king that is George Michael ‘You got to have faith’ 😉 

Now, our only reason to go to the hospital is for extra immunisations against bronchiolitis, unpleasant, but better than her being hospitalised again or poorly. And for routine check ups with her consultant which will happen until Ada is 2. 

Deep breath for this part. 

The effect that this has had on me has been unreal, and although Ada is fighting fit it still isn’t easy. I was always quite ignorant to issues involving mental health and was one of those ‘just get on with it’ people. I’ve now realised that sometimes this just isn’t possible. When something in your life has been so traumatic and so stressful it can be really hard to deal with and process, my main concern was Ada and to worry about me later. It is also very easy for people to say ‘she’s fine now so don’t worry’ but you do (please don’t take offence if you have said this to me!).

Hiding your feelings and pretending everything is ok is not healthy for anyone, but to seek help was not something I was prepared to do until recently. I am by no means crazy, or a manic depressant but I do have my bad days. Days when things get to me and the stress takes over, flash backs, not being able to sleep because my brain won’t switch off, worrying that something will go wrong, being well and truly put off from having any more children, having to have full control of all situations, and for weeks, I fully blamed myself for what happened to Ada and believed that I should of known something was wrong and prevented the whole situation. I have felt in the past like I am not good enough, like I’m doing a shit job and like I can’t cope. I have struggled to speak about how I feel as I was worried I would be judged or people would think I was a shit mum or that I couldn’t look after Ada properly. I have also pushed help away as I feel compelled to be some sort of ‘super mum’ and that no one else should be doing my job. 

I still cannot talk about what happened without crying, and there isn’t a day go by when I don’t relive it at some point. I constantly look to see if Ada is developing as she should and is there any signs that something isn’t right, when I should just enjoy every moment. Living with me is probably a nightmare, Soz Nath, Mum and Dad - cheers for putting up with me 😘 Somedays I will snap at the smallest thing and overreact, whereas another day that same thing wouldn’t bother me in the slightest. 

I am a very private person when it comes to my feelings and I have always thought to show people the venerable side of me would make me seem weak, when in fact it does the opposite. From doing this and the responses I’ve had I now realise just how important it is to talk out and show everyone the old saying of ‘It’s ok not to be ok’. To write this down and tell you all what has happened is unbelievably difficult, yet very therapeutic and I strongly believe that if more people were to speak out about how they feel and the effect it has, then it wouldn’t be such a taboo subject. Because it most definitely shouldn’t be and anyone who says they haven’t had a full scale meltdown at some point is most probably lying to you. 

Ok, so might as well of just posted a naked picture of myself with the caption ‘HERE I AM’ after all that, but thats probably about as honest as you will find me. 

Amy x

#blog #mumblog #mumbloggers #bloggers #nicubaby #nicu #neonatalbaby #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #nicumama

[antoniamstark]

It wasn’t supposed to end this way, Tony realized as he watched the screen. Rhodey had told them they had they all clear from the countries Antonia was supposed to fly over. It was a basic maneuver, a basic training activity for the Legionnaire suit. But it was anything but that now as they stood around watching as someone from somewhere was trying to shoot her down.

Behind him Tony could hear Rhodey on the phone yelling, telling them that it wasn’t a droid, that it was a suit and there was a real person inside it. But it didn’t matter.

“Keep her in the air, keep her in the air, please.” Tony begged as Tonia got over international waters on her way back. It took one last hit before Antonia was doing a dive towards the water. The room going silent as she hit and went under.

Seconds felt like minutes as Tongs brain tried to process what happened. It took a few seconds before he was on his feet,

Marching towards the door.

“Give me readings Jarvis.” He snapped. “Give me the data from her suit!”

“Tony...” he heard Steve or maybe Bruce call his name but he didn’t stop as he made his way towards his armory.”

“Tony you just can’t go and get her.”

“Yes I can.” Tony replies to whoever it is trying to stop him.

“Sir.” Jarvis comes on overhead. “There is no response from Wednesday, but at last reading there was some decent damage done to the suits exterior that could affect the pressurization.” That’s not what he wanted to hear. He is full on ignoring those who are calling his name. They don’t matter. They don’t understand that he is not going to bury her too. They don’t understand that if there is anything that can damage the integrity of the suit and water can leak in, she will drown. But the more real possibility is if the suit loses power or there is anything that has compromised the pressurization, she will suffocate.

Tony looks over his shoulder as he presses the access code for the armory.  No one has followed him down there and he’s certain that’s Rhodey’s doing. Not that anyone being there would stop him anyway.

“Does the Legionnaire still have Power?”

“Yessir.”

“Give me her last coordinates.”

“There is no guarantee she will be there.”

“I know what I am doing Jarvis. Give them to me.”

The coordinates are waiting for him on the HUD as his suit closes around him.

“Tell Rhodey to have someone waiting for us there.” It’s easier to have Jarvis do it and keep his coms offline as he takes off from the tower. He’s certain people are scrambling to find out who took down the armor, but it doesn’t matter to Tony who did at this point. He can worry about that later. Right now the only thing on his mind is Antonia. If they want to shoot him down too, they can certainly try.

It takes longer than he would like to reach he coordinates but according especially as Jarvis tells him that the suits integrity is starting to fail.

“How deep is it here?” Tony asks once they approach the last point in which Antonia was in the sky.

“ two hundred feet.”

It’s a pretty decent depth honestly. But nothing he can’t clear. Tony hits the water at the same angle. It’s safe to assume she didn’t sink where she went in.

“One hundred and fifty feet....one hundred....fifty....” Tony saw the light from the reactor before anything else and it was a relief for the moment. Power meant pressurization which meant air.

“Is there any chance of communication?”

“Wednesday is still offline Sir.”

Not what he wanted to hear really. But as long as Jarvis was picking up vitals then he was fine. It was all fine, even though it wasn’t.

At least the water had slowed her down enough that she wasn’t truly imbedded into the ocean floor, but getting her free was still a task in itself.

“Integrity is failing.”

“Of course it is.” Tony muttered as he managed to break the seal between Antonia and the soft sediment. He pulled her upwards as firmly, yet as gently as he could until he was able to get his arm around her middle. He honestly would have preferred to have had a chance to make sure the suit was secure, but time was of the essence.

He lifted off from the ocean floor, pulling her along with him, going up at the same angle they had come.

The only thing Tony could hear as he breached the water was the beating of his own heart and and the blood in his ears or maybe it was water as it was being parted by the hull of the aircraft carrier coming their way.  God he loved Rhodey.

There was a medical team waiting for them as he landed on the tarmac and he wasted no time ripping off the face plate the moment Antonia was on the gurney. It seemed only then that the struggling reactor reactor finally flickered once, twice, before going out. But it didn’t matter to Tony as he took in his sister’s face. There was bruising and blood from her nose, most likely from her head coming forward and hitting the face plate. There was damage to the suit: Dents and scratches and there where some separation of the metal plates.

Rhodey was waiting in the medical bay and Tony allowed them to look after Antonia after he physically opened the suit, at least they were kind enough to leave the ruined equipment on the table as they moved her to another gurney for an examination and testing.

He needed to distract himself as he waited, he hated waiting, especially for things that concerned his “Tonia”.

Tony didn’t think she had noticed the port in the back of her helmet and he wasn’t exactly certain it would work as he connected it to his phone.

He was going to regret this, he was certain.

Lines and lines of code flew across the screen before the menu appeared. He selected Last Flight Log.

‘We can incoming projectiles.” Wednesday’s voice filled the room.

‘Is it a Monday? It has to be a Monday.’ Antonia retorted as she looked down at the bullets coming her way. “I mean why else would this be happening if it wasn’t a Monday?’

There was silence on Wednesday’s end as Antonia dodged as many bullets as she could,though you could hear the sound of metal hitting metal.

‘Can you give me anything Wednesday?’

‘It appears as if a local militia group is attempting to bring you down in order to gain the suit. Though it appears as if they believe this is just a droid from the Iron Legion.’

There was an explosion and a groan.

‘Major thrusters have been taken out Madam.’

‘Give me more power into the secondary thrusters, Wednesday...’ Tony could see the display, the highlighted areas of Damage, she knew she wasn’t going to make it back. ‘If they want this they can have it...after they fish it out of the ocean.’

‘Madam, would you like me to place a call to Tony?’

‘Please...’

The ocean was within sight as she was trying to keep it up in the air. He could hear her mutter fuck as the call failed popped up on the screen.

‘Wednesday, instead do me a favor yeah? Tell AC/DC...Tell Tony I love him yeah? Tell him I love him and I’m sorry.’

There was a shuddered breath as the last of the thrusters died and she began to descend towards the water.

‘Madam...Madam...” There was no response after Antonia hit.

The HUD lit up the code, Wednesday’s doing obviously, the AI turning off any unnecessary functions to preserve power. Including himself.

‘Turning off Program Wednesday.AI will most likely result in damage as program as not been updated, would you like to continue?’ It was strange to see the suit act like a computer, well it was a glorified computer...but still.

The text flashed across the screen before the Yes was selected.

‘Babysitter Protocol is still in effect. Continue running?’

Yes.

‘Primary function of Wednesday is to watch over and protect Antonia M. Stark. Program will completely shut down once it is deemed she has reached safety.’ Wednesday’s voice filtered through the room. ‘Goodbye Ms. Tonia.’

The last flight log ended and Tony stared at the screen. His throat burned. He knew that his AI’s learned and occasionally acted on their own accord, but apparently he had forgotten that Wednesday’s primary function was to watch and protect his sister when he couldn’t.

He didn’t think she would keep the babysitter protocol when she updated the program though it looked like she really hadn’t done that in awhile.

“It appears as if Wednesday continued to operate as a background program until you landed, Sir.” Jarvis spoke after a few moments. “It was the program that continued to keep the suit running as long as possible.”

“He was serving his original purpose....is there any way to salvage what is left of the program?”

“It’s uncertain at the moment, Sir.”

-

Tony ran through the rest of the programs on the suit as he sat by Antonia’s bed as they sailed back to port. The loss of consciousness seemed to be because of s short lapse in pressurization as she hit the water, which would have been what prompted Wednesday to act apparently.

-

It felt like she had been hit by a truck...or ten. Antonia groaned as she opened her eyes. Well she certainly wasn’t in the bottom of the sea anymore and everything hurt too much for her to be actually dead. It wasn’t a hospital but it wasn’t her room either. For a moment she thought they actually had fished her out when.

“Sir is on his way up Ms. Tonia.”

“Where am I Jarvis?”

“You’re in my bedroom in the Penthouse of Avengers Tower.” Tony answered and Antonia looked towards the door. Tony looked tired, worn down, and guilty oh so guilty.

“Stupid question, how did I get here?”

“I went to get you.” Tony stated as he sat on the edge of the bed. He smelled like his workshop, like oil and metal shavings. “The flight exercise was being broadcasted.”

“You saw me go down.”

“Yeah. I did.”  

Antonia grimaced as she sat up. “Tony-“

“Don’t apologize.” He cut her off. “I don’t want to hear that your sorry because someone shot you down on a maneuver, if anything I should be apologizing to you. I should have taken the suit out instead.”

“We aren’t going to play the musical guilt.”

“Its not musical guilt. You shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“Neither should you.”

“Antonia you thought you were going to die.” Whatever color that was in her face drained.

“You watched the flight log...of course you did.” She muttered. “You’re some sort of masochist, I swear.”

“You told Wednesday Tell AC/DC I love him... you haven’t called me that in years.”

“Are you going to pick apart what I said to justify your guilt?”She asked. “I am alive Tony and that’s what matters. “

Tony opened his mouth.

“We aren’t playing the blame game either.” She tells him. “Tony, you’re probably the reason I am alive.”

“Wednesday is the reason you’re alive.” Tony sighed. “Wednesday made sure the suit kept working as long as he could.”

“Where is Wednesday at anyway? I haven’t heard him.”

Tony was quiet.

“Tony...”

“Wednesday’s program was corrupted when he shut off programs to keep the suit going, including himself for the most part.”

Tony expected tears, sobbing maybe. He made Wednesday for her years ago, around the same time he made Jarvis. But Antonia looked unfazed.

“I guess it’s a good thing I had him backed up then.” Antonia said after a moment. “The last time I made some updates, I duplicated his program and I saved it onto a drive that’s in my desk.”

“You saved him?”

“Of course. You made him for me. Why wouldn’t I at least try to back him up somehow. You just need to insert and upload him off of the drive is all.”

“You’re brilliant.”

“No. I just didn’t want to be without him.” She shrugs as she lays back down with a groan. “I don’t want to have to get used to a new one, a different personality, one that has to get to know me and all that Jazz. I’ve had Wednesday since I was 14, Tony.”

Tony hummed but said nothing else on the subject.

“You’re on bedrest for the next week. Nothing major, just some deep bruising and a possible fracture.”

“Only you would call a possible fracture nothing major.”

“I get them all the time.”

“That’s you.”

Tony frowned slightly.

“Speaking of which you should add something like that to the suit for that because I’m certain you don’t see anyone for that.”

“Why would I?”

“I have not been awake long enough for this kind of conversation.” She muttered. “I take it that you probably added something to mine so I don’t end up like the walking disaster that you tend to be.”

“Of course I did. In the end, when everyone else is gone, you’re all I have. So I’m going to protect you as best as I can...though obviously the suit needs some work because you were sitting in the bottom of the ocean, which is unacceptable.”

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Ghost of you, 17/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 17/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: “Be thou spirit of health, or goblin damn’d, Bring thee air from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com’st in such questionable shape That I will speak to thee.”

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“Prithee, see there! Behold! Look! Lo! How say you? / Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. / If charnel houses and our graves must send / Those that we bury back, our monuments / Shall be the maws of kites.” - Macbeth, Shakespeare.

CHAPTER 17:

Eleventh day of October. Day 1755 since the infection. Jack Harkness video log. Our researches are finally leading us somewhere. We have all this different information scattered and we’re trying to make them fit together like pieces of a huge puzzle. The noctiagus isn’t a simple deadly virus like the pest or the cholera. Unfortunately. We have the necessary weapons against those. The noctiagus is more like a cancer. A corrupted cell corrupting everything around it until the body gives in. It seems like nothing since we can’t cure most of the cancers yet but knowing how the virus works is a huge step still. We can adapt our researches to it. That’s what we’ve done already. The doctor Clara Oswald and myself are currently trying to find a way to fix the DNA and stop it from changing to the contact of those corrupted cells. This would be a great improvement for the sick people. And for our friend. The doctor Martha Jones helped us synthesising this sort of temporary cure. It has the form of a tiny pill that can be swallowed with a bit of water. Nothing too complicated. Except we’re afraid of testing it. Our only living subject is Maxence and the latest report on his health isn’t great. Testing it on him can be too dangerous. I don’t want him to suffer more than he does at the moment. And none of us wants him to… we want him to hold on. It wouldn’t be fair if he was dying now. The thought of Maxence dying forced Jack to stop speaking for a moment. He didn’t turn off the recording. He just needed a moment to breathe deeply and pull himself back together. He looked down, moved away, took deep breaths. Maxence being infected was a hard blow on him but there still was that hope to save him. Maxence fighting the virus had been a good thing at first but now… he was dying and Jack couldn’t handle that. He was putting his brave face on when he had to face everyone but deep down… deep down, he wished for this nightmare to be over. With all the geniuses gathered in this place, how could this cure still be unreachable? Jack ended up turning off the recording. This entry to the video log was over. He couldn’t say more. There wasn’t anything more to say anyway. The main information was inside. He sent the video to their common server. He didn’t mind what would be murmured behind his back for being so emotional. They could say whatever they wanted. They could even go to hell. His friend was dying for fuck’s sake! His best friend, the man who saved him from the consequences of after war. It couldn’t end like that. It couldn’t end before Jack found a way to thank him for this. He let himself fall on his desk chair and rubbed his face. It was hard to focus and worry at the same time. He hated this situation as much as everyone else in this building except for Colin. Colin who couldn’t harm anyone anymore thanks to Tegan. “Last time I’ve seen you looking so defeated, you were refusing my job offer.” For a second, Jack thought he was hallucinating, that the lack of sleep had finally gotten to him, but his brain was telling him that Maxence was speaking to him. He raised his head. His boss was sat on the chair on the other side of the desk, his legs crossed, and was observing him. Jack was a former soldier. Consequently, he knew that hallucinations came to him in his moments of weakness and guilt. The guilt to still be alive, the guilt not to have been able to save the men and women and children around him, the guilt to have killed in order to survive. Right now, he was feeling guilty for not working faster, for not finding a concrete answer, for not being able to save his friend and he was beyond exhaustion. All he needed was damn good news and days of sleep. Which he wasn’t gonna get this time again. He was clever enough to ignore the image of his boss. Last time he had spoken with an hallucination, he was in the psychiatric unit of a military hospital. Weeks after he was sent back home, he had lost his mind. He had broken down and his boyfriend at the time had had to have him locked up for his own sake. They had broken up because of that decision but Jack now had forgiven him. It had been the best decision at the time and he couldn’t see it. After that, he had gone back to his first love: sciences. That’s how he had met Maxence, how he had arrived here today. “Good thing I’ve insisted.” “What are you here for this time?” The words had blurted out of his mouth before he could hold them back. He stared at his boss straight in the eyes and folded his arms on his chest. He was aware that he was talking to someone that wasn’t there but it was too tempting to answer, to have a proper response to his questions. However, this time, Maxence remained silent and his image flickered. He looked at his hand that was almost translucent and frowned. A usual reaction when something wasn’t going the way he thought it would. “I came to say goodbye, Jack.” The former captain felt his heart furiously beating against his ribcage as if it was gonna come out of his body at any time. It was painful but the physical pain was nothing compared to the psychological one these words caused in him. ‘I came to say goodbye’ could only mean one thing and Jack didn’t like the meaning of it. He didn’t wait for the next sentence this fake Maxence could say. He jumped to his feet and rushed out of his office. He ran to the underground part of the lab, to the place his painful heart and the stabbing alarm resounding through all the building was leading him: where everyone was gathered to watch the worst happening under their eyes…

x

Tegan had thought that now that he had figured out who was behind this worldwide mess, things would be easier. He just needed to transfer the information to his team and they would be able to work harder on the noctiagus. With a copy of all the researches done by Myrtle Appleton that he had found in Colin’s computer, they had everything in hand. They couldn’t fail now. He was done typing the mail. The attached documents were done charging in the mail. He clicked on the ‘send’ button, closed the messaging service window and moved from his chair to his couch. He barely had his eyes closed for a bit of rest that he was getting a call on his phone. He groaned, pressed a pillow on his face and tried to ignore the call. How was Maxence doing this job? Worse, how was Harvey dealing with this whole building so well? The phone stopped ringing and he felt guilty for being so relieved. What he wanted was just a little bit of rest. Like the rest of his team, he was way beyond the exhaustion. They were all holding on to the nerves to find that cure and it wasn’t a good thing. Saving Maxence was becoming very urgent – more urgent with every minute – but working in these conditions was pushing them to make mistakes. Or to miss someone who was sabotaging their researches. Tegan was still feeling like an incompetent idiot for almost killing his boss. His boss… The words felt strange now that he was the boss and Maxence was a simple patient in his special unit. A patient with very worrying scans. The virus was winning but Maxence refused to let go. This was killing him, and Tegan wondered if the mistake he had made hadn’t sped up the process. His phone rang again and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. It could be important. It could be a life or death question. It could also be nothing. There were still blokes who thought that they were funny by calling people and scaring them. The communication means were almost all down. The CRCD had its own aerials that were giving the whole building a constant access to internet and phone lines. It was a real blessing in times like this. They were rarely getting calls from the exterior but it sometimes happened, especially through radio frequencies. Usually, they were coming from survivors that were looking for loved ones or for help. Everything was written down in a notebook and transferred to the appropriate security services. The normal police had long lost this battle and Tegan ignored if the messages they were transferring were helpful to the persons who launched them. He finally picked up his phone on the third attempt of his caller to reach him and mumbled something in the speaker. He hoped that it was for something important because he wouldn’t move from this couch if this was just for a fight that had occurred somewhere in the building. It was up to the security to deal with that. He had had enough to do with Colin already. The news he was given was far more interesting though. He sat up quickly. “Say that again.” The man on the other side of the line repeated his words. “Let her in. Lock her in a crate and take her to one of the sterile rooms.” He ended the call and pushed the pillow away. He also pushed the fatigue away. It wasn’t time to sleep. Not anymore. Myrtle Appleton had decided to come into his realm and it was his duty to go and welcome her in person. She was infected but, unlike Maxence, she had all her abilities. It was another sort of sick person and he was willing to work on this. He would take care of her case personally. Scans, blood tests, saliva tests. Everything that would enable him to find the answers they were all craving for. If he hadn’t lost his trust in Adam, he would have taken him as his assistant. He would have learnt a lot but he had chosen Colin and Colin had ruined him. Now, Adam had been transferred to a lesser job and he had been advised to shut up about Maxence’s case or worse could still happen to him. Being fired, having this behaviour mentioned in his file and he was done in the job. He stopped by the lockers room and pulled on a hazmat suit. He wouldn’t lose any time. He would start working as soon as he got there. He was closing the door of his locker when he heard someone behind him. He jumped and turned around to find no one. Once again, he called himself an idiot for being so easily scared of a small noise, for being paranoid. “I’ve always known you would make a great boss for them all. You just needed someone believing in you and the necessary push.” This time again, Tegan jumped and turned back around. A pale image of Maxence was leaning against the lockers and looking at him. He had that smile a father would have after his kid told him about an achievement they would have done. Tegan was a scientist and didn’t believe in spectres. So, he just rubbed his eyes to get rid of their fatigue and passed through the ghost as if it wasn’t there. When it appeared again before him, he thought that maybe some help for this new case would be needed because he was really tired. “Be thou spirit of health, or goblin damn’d, Bring thee air from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com’st in such questionable shape That I will speak to thee.” Tegan was quoting Hamlet in the beginning of the Shakespearean play when the young prince faced the spectre of his father for the very first time. His own ghost, the ghost of his mentor, seemed amused by the reference. If Tegan had believed in supernatural stuff, he would have been terrified by this. He had read enough Shakespeare to know what spectres could push you to do in their names, or just because they were the manifestation of a deep guilt. The Macbeths once experienced it and it led them to madness and death. “I am thy mentor’s spirit, Doom’d for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confin’d to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg’d away – Are you a man?” “Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil.” From Hamlet to Macbeth, there was only one verse and they had crossed the line. Tegan thought that he might have fallen asleep in the end. This was too unreal for his liking. He had no time for such fantasy. He needed to wake up and quickly! “I’ve got no time for this.” “I’m proud of you, T. Keep up the good work.” “What?” The image faltered and, with a bright smile, it disappeared and Tegan was left alone in the corridor he had stopped in. For a couple seconds, he remained still, unable to move or think. Until the alarm went off. An alarm that made his blood speed up in his veins and fear crush his heart. He completely forgot about Myrtle Appleton, about her researches, about everything that wasn’t Maxence and he ran, ran like crazy toward the current disaster of the building.

x

Amy was standing in front of the wall of pictures. She was still in Maxence and Rose’s room but she was alone now. Rose had thought that taking a shower would do her a world of good after this failed nap – for her at least – and she had left Amy to observe her surroundings. The therapist wouldn’t say no to a shower. After such a deep sleep, she felt rested but she needed to refresh herself and to change clothes to feel even better. Rose had allowed her to have that shower here when she would be done and she would also lend her some clothes. It felt weird to Amy to have a friend willing to do so much for her. From what she could see on this wall, Rose was quite the popular girl. Her childhood might not have been one of the best but she had managed to beat fate and to build herself this life she could be proud of. These pictures were showing the story of Maxence and Rose’s life. It almost looked like a fairy tale to Amy. There was so much love between those two human beings that she was almost jealous. Her husband never loved her the way Maxence loved Rose. He never did any of the things Maxence had done for her. The scientist seemed like the perfect man that every woman was dreaming of. He wasn’t as handsome or sexy as those photoshopped playboys you could find in magazines but he had something. Charisma. Gentleness. Intelligence. A rare combination in a man. Rose had found the rare gem and everyone could be jealous about it. She hadn’t let the opportunity disappear thankfully. She had grabbed it and kept it and her knight in shining armour was now the damsel in distress. Funny how things could change quickly. Her eyes stared at another picture. A friends’ picture that looked almost like a family picture. Taken around Christmas time. Maxence and Rose were gathered with Allegro, Jack, Tegan, Clara and Olivia around a small barbecue on the balcony of some flat. Maxence was roasting some chestnuts on the fire. Amy regretted not having friends like this to share such a moment. Her last Christmas… When was it already? What had she done? Probably gotten drunk and been sick for the next few days. She used to love this celebration so much before. She was always overexcited when Christmas time was rolling around. But with William’s death… “It was our last Christmas.” Amy jumped. She hadn’t heard Rose coming out of the bathroom. She turned to face her. Her brown hair that she was usually colouring into blonde or red were falling on her shoulders, wet. She had pulled on clean clothes but hadn’t finished with her hair yet. That was why she had a towel around her shoulders so it wouldn’t soak her T-shirt. “Sorry. Thought you’ve heard me.” “It’s okay. I’ve got lost in your story.” “Almost a fairy tale.” “Definitely a fairy tale.” Rose sighed and sat on the bed. She used the towel on her shoulders to dry her hair the best she could without using a hairdryer. She would just do a quick ponytail. No need to do anything fancy for work. She needed to go back to Maxence. She needed to find this cure. “You can use the bathroom. I’m done with it.” She grabbed the brush on her bedside table and started brushing her hair slowly. She would dye it in any colour Maxence would like to if she managed to save him. If it was the contrary… She would certainly die. She wouldn’t have the strength to keep going. Amy didn’t move. Not yet. Her eyes were still on the pictures. She wished she had such a wall, such memories. It was never too late to start. Maybe when the virus would only be a bad memory. Maybe Rose would take her in that sweet band of friends. She turned around when she heard Rose gasp and drop her brush. Her face had gone pale and her eyes were wide open. She was staring at something beside Amy. The therapist looked at the wall but couldn’t see what was scaring her patient so much. “What do you see?” “Not in the mood for therapy,” retorted Rose. She suddenly was up. She walked to the spot right next to Amy and raised her hand much to the therapist’s astonishment because she couldn’t see what Rose was seeing: the pale figure of her husband standing there with an apologetic look. He avoided her touch. “I’m just an image,” he declared sadly. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks silently as her hand fell back by her side. She never saw a ghost before but she knew how to tell that what was before her was real. His voice was distant, almost like an echo of lost words, and he was so pale she could see the wall and the pictures through him. As if he was nothing but a veil before her eyes. “Rose?” hesitantly called out Amy. “Why?” The question came out of her trembling lips. She had read enough books and myths to know that ghosts only appeared to the persons they loved. They were coming to say goodbye. A one last goodbye. There were people down there. They could save him before she even left this room. What were they doing? “I’ve never been that strong. My brain went through a lot when I was a boy. It couldn’t handle the virus any longer.” “You can’t…” Rose couldn’t form full sentences and Amy was watching her patient talk with a wall. Her attitude was clear enough: she was seeing her husband. It was her exhaustion and her anxiety playing tricks to her, making her hallucinate. She put her hand on her shoulder but Rose shrugged it off. She had no time to waste. Once again, she tried to touch Maxence. His image flickered and almost disappeared. She swallowed a sob. “I’m sorry, I wish our song wasn’t ending this way.” “I…” “I love you, Rose. In this life and all the others if they ever exist. Be strong for me, my love. Find this cure. Become the hero I’ve always known you were.” He bent over and she closed her eyes, thinking she would feel the ghost of his lips pressed against hers but there was nothing and when she opened her eyes, he was gone. She could have collapsed and cried but she swallowed the sobs again and rushed out of the room. She didn’t want this to end like this. Amy would have followed her if she hadn’t been facing the very same spectre Rose had been talking to. She opened her mouth but considering that he was barely visible now, that the image was fading away, she wouldn’t have time to say anything before he disappeared. He had one last thing to say and it was for her. “Take care of her for me. She’s the best woman you’ll ever meet.” “I will,” Amy promised. The next words he pronounced struck her. They were like a stab in her heart but in the good way. If a stab could be good in any way. ‘William wants you to know that he misses you and he’s happy you’re making friends again.’ Was he…? Her son… Was he around like Maxence? Could he see her and watch over her? She wanted to ask but Maxence was already gone and, the weight of these new words on her heart, she followed Rose’s path.

x

Liv was in Allegro’s cage when the alarm went off. Both of them raised their heads. Liv rushed to the interactive wall and checked Maxence’s vital signs. They were almost inexistent. She glanced at Allegro and mouthed a sorry before she rushed out of this cage to go to the other one. She dragged Maxence away from the broken bowl and spilled food and turned him on his side. The fall hadn’t hurt him badly but it was clearly not the matter now. She didn’t have time to lose. His heart was giving up because his brain was suffering from a severe pressure. The reason was unknown at the moment but they would find it later. Right pupil blown, cerebral fluid flowing through his nose. How had they missed the signs? They should have seen it long before this happen. She ran to the airlock and grabbed the medical bag she left there earlier. It would be very needed. She hurried back into the cage and knelt down beside him. She pulled out disinfectant and cleaned the area she was gonna work on. She hated this. She wasn’t a neurologist but she knew the process. She took the medical portable drill and cleaned it off quickly. Then, she pulled on latex gloves above the gloves of her suit and took a deep breath. Three fingers above the ear, two on the side of the blown pupil. A quick vertical cut. Ignore the blood. Place the drill in the middle of the cut. Drill a first hole. Behind the hairline, a bit off the midline. Second hole. Drill around the hole. Remove as much blood as possible. It was the process but she didn’t know what to do anymore now that the holes were pierced, now that the brain pressure was relieved. Tegan would know. That was his specialty. And she was just a simple doctor. Her eyes were clouded with tears as she was taking off as much blood as possible with gauze. Maybe a derivation would have been the best way but she hadn’t had time to do things properly. She was trembling. The life of her friend was between her hands and she was lost. “You can’t leave, Max. Not now, not when we’re so close. You gotta hold on. For Rose, for me. What will happen to us if you die?” She sniffled. Her tears were flowing. She didn’t hold them back anymore. “Rose will survive. She’s strong, she can do it but me? I need you. I need my friend. I need the man who saved my life and got in troubles for helping me. I need the man who gave me a second chance, the man who healed me with his kind words and hugs and support. I need to hear you tell bad jokes and I’ll laugh along even if it’s not funny. I need to see your smile again to think that the world is a good place. I need your presence to stop thinking that I’m unworthy, to think that I have my spot in this world. I need you to keep me above the water because I can’t do this without you, Max. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about dying and you’ve just come around and get this out of my head? Do you know how many times I’ve told myself that I couldn’t disappoint you after all you’ve done for me? Now is not the time, Max. This is not your time. I won’t let you.” She wiped away her tears. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t see a thing because of them. She was still cleaning that blood. There was too much, way too much and she was afraid that she might have done wrong. What if she had killed him instead of saving him? Rose would kill her this time. She would be so angry and devastated that she would kill her for ruining her husband’s last chance. “Please,” she begged. “Please, don’t die on me now.” Maxence had come to her too but she wasn’t seeing him. He was standing beside her, beside his wrecked body and was sadly looking at the scene, at his friend. She couldn’t see him because he was too translucent, couldn’t hear him because he was too weak but he was there. He put a hand on her shoulder. “I believe you’re stronger than you think you are, Olivia.” He was the only one able to use her full name, a name she hated for reasons only Rose and him knew now. “I believe you will go on with your life without me. And it’s gonna be fantastic.” He gave a small sad smile at the scene. He wished she could have heard him. He wished she could see how strong she was. He had been their cornerstone for so long and now, they were gonna have to learn how to live without him. It would be hard at first, but with time, it would be okay. He would find a way to stay around them, when he would be less tired. He closed his eyes. Now was his time to go…

To be continued...

Ghost of you © | 2017 - 2019 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

In the next chapter:

She could hear his voice now but she didn’t react to it. It was her grief speaking. Just a memory in a spectral form. It was no way to remember this fantastic man. She preferred keeping the precious memories of him smiling and laughing, the priceless image of the man who took her out of the orphanage when she was sixteen, the picture of him bruised after he got involved in a fight with his biological father who was responsible for her rape, for her miscarriage and her now inability to carry children. She remembered the many nights spent on the phone with him because she couldn’t sleep without nightmares, the many times he came over so she wouldn’t be alone and do something she would regret later.

×××

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