#like this class is the reason why ive been so fucking miserable all semester if i just didnt take it I'd be so much happier probably

[applejongho]

thinking about dropping a class 🤪🤡

#apple lady words #crying tw #im on the highest floor of the library ugly sobbing until my jacket and i dont have tissues so the snot and shit is all over and my face is #red and im so fucking miserable #this class is the one taught my doctors and it has not gotten better since the start of the sem #fast forward to week nine and here we are almost midterm time and i know like. fucking nothing. and neither does anyone else #like this class is the reason why ive been so fucking miserable all semester if i just didnt take it I'd be so much happier probably #idfk anymore lmao #i meant to say im on the highest *and quietest* floor of the library so I'm doing everything i can to not be loud and to shut up #🤪🤡🤡🤡🤡 #i have like two more weeks to decide if i should drop or not and afterwards I'm stuck and i cant drop #🥴🥴🥴 #lmao. anyways #tw negativity

[semiconducting]

just reflecting on some personal growth stuff from last year !

im actually. genuinely okay. like i think im starting this year feeling okay! which is atypical. 

i think i can attribute it to the enormous amount of work id put into myself over the past year...i remember one year ago being extraordinarily depressed and really just. high strung? incredibly anxious but exhausted. and i fell down a descent slowly from not eating, to getting really irritable and not handling conflicts with friends well, to actively self harming again, to the point where i remembered sitting in a coffee shop with one of my friends and saying out loud that i need to go to therapy. and that i was going to talk to a mutual friend of ours about how the therapy services on campus are. which was a huge step for me! ive always had trust issues with therapy services since i was 12 for reasons i wont go into, but im sure you can gather the point of.

and then, literally the next day after saying that, got news about campus shutting down because of the virus.

and i made all of the effort possible to reach out to my friends and get things figured out to weather the storm because i KNEW shit was going to get bad if i didnt. but only one of my friends was really keeping up, and thats because he and i do homework together so we were already in a rhythm of talking every single week no matter what. and thats not to say that im ungrateful for him or the fact that even still he was there for me while i was going through hell, i have this thing about Not Putting All My Problems On And Confiding In One Person And One Person Only. so i withdrew, i stopped talking to everyone, i stopped logging into my classes, i didnt do any homework, i didnt lead my workshops, didnt hold office hours...i was just wallowing in my own misery

and i made plans to kill myself. and thats like, i mean i could say that several dozen times over the course of a year since i was like 12, but i mean a legitimate walkthrough plan. had my hiking bag packed with everything i was going to use, decided where i was going to, and was going to prep myself for it. wrote drafts and drafts of suicide notes until i decided just leaving the contact info of people who needed to know asap was all i was going to leave. in addition to sticky notes on some stuff in my room for what needed to be returned to who, or if something should go to someone in particular...

and i acted as normally as i could around my housemates. attributed my not leaving my room much to being busy with classes. i have a rule to myself to always sleep at least one night before killing myself because if im really serious about going through with it it can always wait one day. this time i decided i was going to clean my room and leave it as pristine as possible. the last thing i had to do was a load of laundry, and then i was going to do it.

and then someone from campus showed up at my door. because one of my professors filed a report and i hadnt responded to any of the emails id received checking in on me.

so i readjusted. caught up on my schoolwork, just barely finished the semester and definitely didnt do it strong or well (god bless the pass/fail option bc of covid LOL), but i did it nonetheless. went home, started my internship, had a miserably mundane summer.

i grew bitter and apathetic. i was angry at my friends for not being responsive when i reached out to them to talk or hang out or do anything. i got tired of dealing with it. i was tired of feeling alone and like no one gave a shit about me except for when it was convenient for them. i decided that i wasnt going to deal with people who werent willing to put any effort into me, so i stopped talking to everyone and kept up with people who were willing to reach out after the fact.

it’s definitely not the best approach. it’s really unforgiving and it doesn’t give people a lot of benefit of the doubt, but i think it was necessary in some respect. i didn’t have any criteria for how people needed to reach out, or how long after, or whatever, just that they did. really needed people in my life who are willing to communicate with me. i was honest with how i was feeling and why i did things if they did, apologized for the shitty approach, thanked them for still being willing to talk to me, and worked out the best way for both of us to keep things going.

over the months i dont think i really regret the decision, because it’s been a weight off my shoulders. i feel a lot better. i’m far more okay with where i stand in all of my friends’ lives, even if that’s not as a priority and even if that’s as just someone to talk to and catch up with like a couple times a year. it took a bit for it to pay off but it’s nice to take a look at people i was putting far too much work into and upon reflection realizing that they only interacted with me when they needed something from me, and not for me as a person. i think there are still people where there are loose ends and i think i may try reaching out myself to tie those up at some point, whenever i have the energy and clarity of mind for it. but i guess at the end of the day i just decided that people who weren’t willing to communicate weren’t worth the time. i’m okay if that communication means i need to be the one to initiate conversations even! i just need to know that.

but yeah. i came back to ny and started the semester totally apathetic and angry. i was so fucking depressed and bored with everything even if i was keeping myself incredibly busy. the only thing that i found rewarding (and what was just barely keeping me going) was leading my workshop for the intro optics class. 

and then a friend -- the same friend i was at the coffee shop with -- reached out to catch up. and i was honestly really bitter and angry with him and was prepping myself to start listing out issues that i hadnt been able to address with him beforehand (side note, while telling friends the issues you have with them is important, listing shit out all at once is hardly ever a good approach especially without warning LOL) but ended up...just having a calming and comfortable conversation about what was going on in our lives since we last saw each other. 

n later that day i ended up reaching out to an old friend that i had been meaning to catch up with because we fell out of contact, but had just barely been trying to start talking again in the months before this but had kept missing opportunities to properly converse. but we talked again, and we set up a day to hike and catch up.

and he comes to my house and picks me up. and i get in his car. and its like, holy shit, its been almost a year since ive seen you. and we hugged. and just started to catch each other up on the mess that had been our lives since we’d actively been in contact. we hiked, he told me about the books he wanted to write, we talked about people we knew, we talked about politics, we talked about school, we talked about life, and it was just as comfortable as if not a day had passed...even though it was obvious that he and i were both changed people over the past year. nothing about our friendship was any different though.

we resolved to hanging out with each other every week. decided we both needed the interaction, appreciated having each other around, and had a nice overlap of free time in the week that worked well. friday nights unless otherwise specified.

it was totally unexpected. he’d always been a great friend to me, but i never expected us to get as close as we did. neither did he. he’s probably the first person in my life (or at least in a very long time, and certainly the only person at the time) that i’d been so comfortable with that i practically had no boundaries around. none that needed to be addressed, anyway, because the only possible ones to throw up wouldn’t even come up (but of course, i constantly reassured that as soon as anything came up i would let him know because early on he kept asking sjhdkjfh). 

he became something for me to look forward to in the week. towards the beginning he was a shoulder to lean on when i needed it and was willing to listen to things i hadn’t been able to tell anyone out loud. and he confided in me as well. it was comfortable. it was safe. it was a level of trust with vulnerability that i’d never shown anyone else. 

but it wasnt even just that! it was fun! hes so fun. we could talk about everything and nothing, and hes one of the only people where i feel like i have to keep up with him in conversation instead of the other way around. we’d jump from topic to topic so much faster than either of us could think and it was all always so interesting. littered with humour that was just dumb and simple. i felt comfortable just being an idiot with him. i felt like i had nothing to prove. 

for the past few years ive held to the sentiment that i like to hang around with people that make me a better person. but somehow, with him, its not that i felt like he made me a better person, but that he made me more myself. he saw who i was without any kind of fronts. and i always was afraid to show anyone that me because i always assumed that they would be depressing, loathsome, bitter, angry, and vicious.

but....i’m not. i learned that i’m incredibly loving. that i’d do fuckin anything to for my friends, but always in a way that was healthy and rewarding for both of us. i’m very light-hearted and my sense of humour is so stupid, but also very analytical and thoughtful. just a bit judgmental and pretentious, but always for things that people dont expect. totally open minded in discussions. an avid explorer, and a bit of a thrillseeker. and so, so, so affectionate.

i realized im. not as horrible as ive always made myself out to be. i accepted that i didnt need to punish myself for things beyond my control. i realized that i could believe people when they tell me that they enjoy my company, or appreciate things i do for them, or that they think i’m a worthwhile person to keep around. 

its not that i dont have my flaws, its not that there arent things that i have to work on still. but maybe, at my core, i’m not actually motivated by spite, i’m not actually a hopeless pessimist, and that i’m not...broken. i’m not some secretly irredeemable monster.

and for a period of time i’ve been in a place where i could say i was genuinely...happy! and i don’t think i’ve ever been able to say that. i’ve certainly been made happy by doing things with friends in the past, i’ve been through periods where i’ve been okay with where i am at in life, but ever since i was like 12 (but probably even before that) i’d never been able to say that i was happy. it’s not that i wasn’t stressed, it’s not that things in my life were all going perfectly....but they didn’t define my mood. they didn’t define my view of myself. school, despite being the primary focus of my life, wasn’t dictating how i was feeling. even when things were agonizing and depressing because of school, i was still okay. i was incredibly stable.

and i owe that all to him being there for me. and hardly any of these things were anything that he was really directly responsible for, like its not that he sat there and just constantly showered me in reassurance and praise or anything that changed how i view myself...it was just having his company. it was just being able to sit there and listen to him go on about some totally random thing that he was exceptionally knowledgeable about. it was exploring caves and climbing hills. it was cooking together. it was talking about science. it was talking about love. it was talking about music. it was just having a consistent presence in my life, someone that treated me like a priority but never at the expense of himself, and someone i didn’t have to walk on any kind of eggshells around. it was someone who trusted me and respected me not by anything id done to warrant it, but just because of who i was. 

it was a reminder that i can take care of my own problems, that i just need to be a good presence in someone’s life and for them to be a good presence in mine.

but also that i can accept help from people who genuinely want to offer it! and that that help doesnt always have to be direct. that sometimes helping me means i get to do something nice for someone else LOL

it was everything i ever needed and i wasnt even looking for it. he meant the world to me and i was so, so thankful for the circumstances that led us here because i was so happy to have him in my life again. i was happy that we were able to get closer because we’d only been able to interact in professional environments before.

and then i realized i was in love. and i had a sexuality crisis. but i didn’t recognize it until i fell hard because it was a different kind of love than i’ve felt for anyone before. it was intense but entirely too comfortable. but i knew that i cared about him, and that he cared about me, and that i really didn’t need anything about our friendship to change but that it had potential to be something even greater than it was.

and i resolved to tell him about it...until he told me first. and that moment was, as cheesey as it sounds, nothing less than magical. we were both so happy and giggly and it was so sweet and warm and i dont know if im ever going to be able to recreate that feeling because it was just so particular, so specific to being something between me and him. its not that i cant love anyone else as strongly or be as happy as i was necessarily, but it’ll never be that same kind of feeling.

but things happened. things got complicated. i think he panicked. and then things that happened just felt so dirty and hollow and dark. he hurt me really, really, really badly, and it managed to happen in the span of four days.

and i’ve spent the last <2 weeks dealing with it. i think he’s dealing with it in his own ways, but realistically i don’t know how because i havent seen him since christmas eve, and we were both definitely not being completely genuine that day. was at his house for a small family party and he and i were the only ones who knew what happened. it was too soon to have healed from it any, but we couldnt exactly be honest about it then either.

and im doing better. im genuinely okay now. and, interestingly, i think i owe it to the past few months of hanging out with him and how ive been able to come to terms with a lot of things about myself. ive been able to show myself compassion. its really ironic.

its a situation where i was desperately trying to throw blame onto myself for, because if i could then i could punish myself for it and use it to fuel that deep rooted self hatred and then i could fix it, because i’d be the one responsible for fixing it. but, and i’ve talked to quite a few friends about it trying to figure out who to confide in about it, everyone who knows about it insists that i cant blame myself for it. theres not a thing about the situation that i can blame myself for. and its so fucking weird, because i cant bring myself to fully blame him for it either, just because it was so ABSURDLY out of character that it doesnt feel like it was anything he could have done to me. it was a boundary that i wasnt ever supposed to worry about him crossing, because he’s just not that kind of person.

and it’s the type of situation that you’re supposed to totally be willing to cut someone off for but...i can’t. he’s genuinely remorseful and i think he doesn’t really know how to deal with it either. and despite it being a massive fuck up its still like...the first fuck up in our friendship from either of us. and i’m willing to see this through. i think it’s salvageable, even if it’ll never be the same as it was. i have faith in our friendship. i think we can make it work.

but no matter what happens. i owe him more than i’ll ever be able to repay him for. and i’ll never, ever be able to hate him because of that. i’m in a much, much better place because of him and for that i’ll always be thankful.

#shut up mega #this ended up being longer and more in depth abt the earlier half of the year than i meant it LOL #a summary of my 2020 i spose #also there's some kinda detailed talk of #suicide ment - #self harm ment - #IM CRYING AFTER WRITING THIS OUT LMAOOOO

[vexedtonightmares]

last dance (elu ballet au) chapter treize

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.  

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix. x. xi. xii. xiii.

ao3

tw: eating disorder, brief discussion of past manic episode, depressive episode, very brief mentions of depression/self harm, internalized/self imposed ableist thought patterns, discussion of bipolar disorder 

Mardi 6:45

Eliott still wasn’t there. Lucas had stayed up practically all night waiting, seeing if Eliott would come home, come back to him, but he hadn’t, and Lucas didn’t know what to do about that. There was still time though, and before they’d gotten together Eliott had been chronically on time to class every day, which meant he was late by ballet standards. Lucas was able to kid himself into thinking that would be the case that day as well.

He ran his spoon through his bowl of cereal, debating between taking another bite and throwing it out. Maybe Eliott had left him for this reason, that he couldn’t just get it together and force himself to function like a normal human being. 

The door was unlocked, so Lucas barely looked up when Manon walked in, knowing from the way she did so that it wasn’t Eliott. She sat down next to him at the counter and looked at what he was eating. 

“Cereal, fun,” she said conversationally. 

He shrugged, bringing another bite to his mouth, forcing it down. It tasted fine, if not a little bland. “What’s up?” he asked after a moment of awkward silence. 

“I should be asking you that,” she said pointedly. 

He forced out a laugh. “What makes you say that?”

“Lucas, you’ve been in a daze since last week. No one can get through to you. I know that Imane came and hung out with you on Sunday, but even she won’t tell me why you’re acting so strangely, and I know you told her.” Manon sounded a bit hurt and Lucas felt guilty. He didn’t want to be hiding things from Manon, really, it was just hard especially when things were so up in the air at the moment. 

He’d been trying to convince himself so much that nothing bad had happened to Eliott and talking about it would only convince him otherwise. The hard thing was that Manon would probably have great advice, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it. Sometimes toiling in his own misery was better than searching for a way out. He knew it probably wasn’t the healthiest way to cope, but he was quickly realizing none of his coping strategies were very healthy. 

“I love you Manon, and I’m really sorry, but I just… I can’t.” She said nothing, eyeing him carefully, so he continued, “I only told Imane because I was having a full on breakdown, I would have talked to anyone who showed up at my door, even Chloé, but now I need time to process things on my own before I discuss them. Is that ok?”

She sighed, biting her bottom lip. “Does it have to do with Eliott?”

“Why would you say that?” he asked nervously. 

“Well… he’s disappeared once again and you look ten minutes away from passing out again either from stress, lack of sleep, or both, so I just figured… Did you guys fight again?” she asked seriously, and oh, right. She was asking because she thought they hated each other. 

“Something like that.” It was the best he could give her, and thankfully she was willing to accept it for the time being. She folded him into a hug that he reciprocated readily. He tried to communicate with her through the hug more than he could through words, to tell her that maybe he wasn’t ok, but he was trying to get better. The only problem was that he wouldn’t be better completely until he knew what the hell was going on with Eliott. 

She released him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Off to class we go?”

“Off to class we go,” he agreed, throwing his bowl into the sink and grabbing his bag before following her out the door. They prepped for class in silence, running through various parts of the pas de deux between Odette and the Prince just in case Lucas had to stand in for Eliott again. He felt bad for ditching Imane another day, but at least she didn’t seem to ruffled by it all, able to practice on her own when Lucas was Eliott for the day. 

He’d also noticed her and Sofiane spending a lot of time together during practices when Lucas stood in for Eliott, not that they didn’t hang out usually but the air seemed charged between the two of them and Lucas found it in himself to smile at the fact that his instincts had been pretty spot on regarding the two of them.

When eight o’clock hit and Eliott wasn’t there, Lucas felt his heart sink even further into the pit of his stomach than it had since he woke up Sunday morning and Eliott wasn’t in bed beside him. 

Madame Rigaux obviously noticed he wasn’t there, as they all did, because his spot at the front of the barre remained empty and, for the first time since Lucas had started attending the school, she walked out of class. 

Imane turned to Lucas, intuitive as always, and Lucas couldn’t keep his concern from showing on his face. “He’s not back?” she asked in a hushed tone as everyone else whispered around them.

He shook his head, and Imane swore under her breath. “This really isn’t good Lucas, you have to tell someone about what happened. He could be a danger to himself or others.”

“He’s not some fucking psychopath, Imane, and he’s not on drugs. I don’t know what’s going on but there’s a logical explanation, I know it.” He could hear in his voice that he was pleading, and that she was probably right, but he didn’t want her to be. 

Madame Rigaux entered the room once again just as Imane was about to speak again, director trailing behind her. 

“M. Lallemant, can you come with me?” he asked, back straight, voice emotionless as always. Fuck. Why him? He figured it was common knowledge the two of them were rivals of sorts, even to the instructors. They didn’t think he’d done something to Eliott, did they?

He nodded, swallowing his unease and following the director out the door and down not to his office, but to Lucas’ suite. “Um, Sir? Have I done something wrong?” he asked nervously. 

The director looked down at him as if he were a nuisance. “No, but M. Demaury is your roommate, you should be more responsible for him.”

“In what way?”

“You’re aware this is the seventh class he has failed to attend this semester? We should have pulled him at three, but he was physically ill that week, and had a doctor’s note, so we let it slide because he is so pivotal to the performance and to this school as a whole,” the director explained boredly. Lucas might have been offended if his worry hadn’t outweighed his desire for the director to see him as more than second best to Eliott. 

“But now,” he continued, “Two more unexcused absences, we’ll have no choice but to put him on probation.”

“But Sir—” Lucas started.

“What? Aren’t you glad to take his place? Pitying M. Demaury only shows me that I’ve been right about you all along. You don’t have the drive, the passion. It’s why you’ll always be an understudy, that and your unfortunate physique.” Lucas staggered on his feet, feeling the heat rise to his face and having that sensation in the back of his throat that told him tears were imminent. If he cried he’d only prove the director right, so he swallowed them and put on as brave a face as necessary.

He cleared his throat. “What I was going to say, Sir, is that while I am grateful for the opportunity, I think Eliott might be physically ill again, so he might come back with a doctor’s note.”

The director’s gaze snapped to his. “Come back?”

“Yeah?” Lucas shrugged, brows furrowing. 

“You mean to tell me he’s left school grounds?”

“Um…” 

“Open the door to your suite, M. Lallemant,” the director said sternly. 

Lucas pushed it open. “It’s… not locked, Sir, just in case he came back. He left his keys here.”

The director stepped into the room, surveying it. Thank god Lucas had cleaned up all of Eliott’s nonsensical scribbles. “How long has he been gone?”

“Well…”

“How. Long.”

“Since Sunday, possibly Saturday night,” Lucas replied miserably. 

The director shook his head in disbelief. “And you’re only now telling me?”

“I thought he’d be back by now!” Lucas knew it wasn’t a good excuse, but he also hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation with the director. He knew he should say something regarding how he’d left, but he still couldn’t bring himself to. 

“Have you had contact with him since then?” the director asked.

Lucas shook his head. “No. He, uh, left his phone here too. I don’t know where he went or who he’s with, so I don’t know how to contact him.” 

“Did you try his parents?” There was some concern in the director’s voice now and Lucas nearly laughed. Of course he’d be concerned now, because it was Eliott who was missing, not Lucas. He was certain that if he’d been the one to disappear, the director would pack up his things without a second thought and bar him from the school should he ever try to return. 

“I don’t have their contact information,” Lucas said truthfully. There was a time he had, but that time had passed years ago. He missed the Demaurys often, actually, and he sometimes wondered if they missed him. Probably not, given what Eliott had likely told them about him over the years. 

The director sighed. “I have to do everything myself, then?” 

“I’m sorry, Sir—”

“Just go back to class, M. Lallemant, I daresay you need it more than most. I’ve always thought you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucas answered, hating how small his voice sounded, hating how he let the words get to him in such a way. The director had never really been nice to him, especially not when he filled in for Eliott, but he could take it when they were corrections about his dancing, not when they were corrections about himself in general.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, making a pit stop in the bathroom and locking the door behind him. The tears came out all at once and he leaned over the sink, sobbing with every breath. It was times like these when he wondered why he was even doing any of this in the first place. Why he’d chosen ballet if it was only ever going to hurt him. 

Still crying, he caught his breath enough to stand up straight, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked a mess, and he hated how he looked, even when Eliott had spent so much time telling him how beautiful he was. Beautiful in one person’s eyes didn’t mean good enough to everyone else. 

He flinched away from himself turning towards the stall, toilet beckoning him, reaching inside his head and pulling out his worst thoughts about himself. He’d never done this before, what he was thinking of doing now. His brand of disordered eating included restriction, never purging, but all he wanted to do at that moment was to let it out, empty himself of all the feelings of worthlessness, anger, even love, empty himself until there were no feelings at all. 

But then he thought of Eliott. Of what Eliott might think if he saw Lucas there, kneeling in front of the toilet hating himself and his situation so much he hadn’t felt he had anywhere else to go. Eliott would understand, that was the problem, he wouldn’t judge him but he’d show concern, making Lucas feel like as long as he was there Lucas never had to feel like that again. That was why he stood up, drying his eyes one last time before marching out of the bathroom, determined to be the version of Lucas that Eliott saw, not the one who needed to feel nothing at all to feel something. 

Mercredi 19:12

Eliott hadn’t shown again, but Madame Rigaux hadn’t stormed out of class, instead ignoring Eliott’s empty space, so Lucas wondered if there had been some sort of communication between Eliott and the school. If so, why hadn’t Eliott found a way to contact him yet? 

Arthur was coming over to study with him, against Lucas’ wishes, but Imane had agreed to it for him, telling him that he needed a distraction to take his mind off things. Honestly, Lucas was surprised that Arthur was studying at all. 

The door remained unlocked, just in case, so Arthur barged right in just as Manon had done, but with more of a flourish. “Hello my fellow gay child,” Arthur said, swinging the door open. 

Lucas looked up from his laptop. “Hi?”

Arthur didn’t say anything more, merely smiled before plopping down next to Lucas on the couch and looking at what he was doing, which happened to be that week’s French homework.

“Aren’t you bi? Have there been new developments I’m unaware of?” Lucas joked, setting his laptop down beside him. It looked like Arthur hadn’t brought any homework with him to study, so Lucas assumed they were really just hanging out. 

“I am bi, but I’m gay enough that I can refer to myself as such.” 

“Is that how that works?” Lucas asked

Arthur grinned cheesily. “Do any of us know enough to know how anything works?”

“Fair enough.”

Arthur suddenly frowned, and nodded towards Eliott’s closed door. “He still sick or whatever?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas said. It was the truth.

“You don’t know?” Arthur asked incredulously, “Listen, I understand you don’t like him, but as a roommate, you have to at least have common human decency and make sure he’s all right. I was his roommate for years, I know the deal.”

Lucas was about to interject that the reason he hadn’t spoken to Eliott was because he wasn’t even there, but he paused. “Know the deal?”

“Yeah.” Arthur frowned even deeper. “You know, like, obviously I know he isn’t actually ‘sick’ or whatever, he’s at another low.”

“Anther low?”

Arthur sighed. “Seriously, Lucas? Eliott’s clinically depressed. He has been for years, and sometimes it hits harder than other times. Sofiane and I have been covering for him for years, because we know the director would cut him faster than you can snap your fingers if he caught a whiff of neurodivergence.”

Lucas was gaping up at Arthur in wide eyed shock. It explained some things, explained his behavior that one week where he didn’t even get out of bed, but it didn’t explain his behavior this time, he definitely hadn’t been depressed. “I didn’t know,” was all Lucas could think to say.

Arthur must have felt bad, because his expression grew sheepish. “I mean, it isn’t your job to know, or to do anything about it, I just figured he’d told you about it because it can impact him pretty heavily.” 

Lucas felt like a horrible person. Somehow Eliott had been the only one to see him when he wasn’t ok, when he needed help, and he felt sick to his stomach at the thought he hadn’t seen when Eliott was hurting. Or that he had, and he’d ignored it. 

“But wait… he was only ever depressed? Did he ever seem weirdly happy, or anything?” Lucas asked. 

Arthur thought about it. “No. I mean, Eliott’s a generally happy person, that’s why the depressive cycles were more noticeable. You can ask him, he’d know better than me.”

“He’s not here,” Lucas said at last, which he probably should have said first.

“What? Where is he?”

Lucas put his head in his hands. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t—” Arthur broke off, taking a breath. “Lucas, I get that you hate him, put damn it call him or something! I didn’t know he was missing, Lucas something could be seriously wrong, he’s had a history of self-harm and shit, fuck!”

Lucas thought back to the things he’d ignored, feeling worse and worse with each word Arthur said. He’d never noticed anything of the sort when he and Eliott did things together, but he admittedly wasn’t paying much attention when Eliott’s mouth was anywhere close to his body.

“He left all his stuff here, I didn’t know how to contact him!” Lucas yelled, wanting to prove to Arthur he wasn’t a bad person and prove to himself that he wasn’t a bad boyfriend.

“Did you try his parents?” Arthur asked.

Lucas shook his head. “I don’t have their contact information, Eliott and I haven’t been friends since we were ten.”

“But you told the director, right?” Arthur pressed, and Lucas nodded.

“I also told Imane, because Idriss knows him better than most of us do.” A lie, Lucas knew Eliott better than most at this point, at least he’d thought he did, but Lucas did hope Imane had said something to Idriss about it all. “The director must have gotten contact with him somehow, because Rigaux wasn’t foaming out of the mouth at his absence and the director told me in rehearsal today to not get comfortable substituting for him. Though, that may have just been because he hates me.”

“First of all, the director is a dick and as soon as we graduate I’m keying his car, and second of all, that’s a good sign, I guess. Good as we can expect for the time being,” Arthur shrugged, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“I guess,” Lucas said, doing the same. It wasn’t his intention to sound so detached, but it was probably a good thing, considering what Arthur thought Lucas thought about Eliott. 

Lucas flexed and pointed his feet aimlessly, glancing up at a silent Arthur every once and awhile. Arthur seemed completely content, but Lucas still wasn’t sure why he’d come over in the first place, since they both knew it wasn’t to study. 

“How’s Von Rothbart treating you?” Lucas asked at last. There were never usually uncomfortable silences between them, so he didn’t know why there should be now. 

Arthur raised his eyebrows over his glasses. “The day I actually get to stand in for Sofiane is the day this school burns to the ground.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Lucas said with a laugh.

“I’m not!” Arthur argued, reaching for a pillow and hitting Lucas with it. 

Lucas blocked the pillow with his forearms, still grinning. “I thought you didn’t really care, anyway.”

“I don’t care because I stopped allowing myself to care years ago. I used to care a lot really, but I know now that if I ever want to make a living in ballet, it’s not going to be here. I don’t even know if I want a living in ballet anymore, and it used to be all I dreamed about.” Arthur looked at his hands in his lap, traces of his small falling to something more serious. “I guess that’s what this place does to you, crushes you and your dreams until you have to find a new one.”

“That’s dark,” Lucas said, and Arthur merely shrugged. 

“That’s life.”

Maybe it was, but Lucas never liked to believe it to be the truth for everyone. If he gave up on his dreams now, even when the world was telling him that might be the best thing to do, was he still himself? Letting himself believe every horrible thing every instructor had said about himself over the years was a pattern he couldn’t allow himself to fall into, he had plenty of other problems without having to face the idea that maybe he didn’t quite have the level of talent he hoped he did. 

“Maybe so,” he said, “But if you love it don’t you find it hard to give it up?”

“Of course. And maybe I won’t give it up, but I’m learning to broaden my goals and narrow my expectations.” Arthur said it so simply, like he was resigned to it all. It made Lucas kind of angry, because Arthur had that same natural talent as Eliott and Manon and Sofiane, but he always acted so flippant about it that it was hard to tell whether he was serious or not. 

“I guess I just still don’t understand. You have so much talent, more than Yann and me for sure. Probably more than Sofiane, maybe even Eliott, but you never give yourself a chance,” Lucas said, because he still wanted to understand. 

Arthur bit the inside of his cheek. “The problem was that I was as good as Eliott, and I did give myself a chance. I… I don’t really want to talk about it, but I did give myself a chance, and I’m still recovering from it.”

Lucas’ heart stuttered and he reached for Arthur’s hand. He didn’t know what had happened, but he had his own fair share of childhood traumas so he could only imagine. “Well, it you ever want to give yourself another chance, know that I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

Arthur looked down at their joined hands, then up at Lucas’ face. He stood abruptly. “Thanks. I should go, though, it’s getting late.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course,” Lucas said, a little taken aback. Had he said something wrong? 

When Arthur left, he cast a glance back over his shoulder, almost like he was hoping Lucas would ask him to stay. But then he was gone and Lucas was confused again. 

Lucas went to bed shortly after, leaving the door unlocked just in case Eliott or Arthur came back and helped clear up the mess going on in his mind. 

Jeudi 13:00

That morning had been the first he’d woken up with the expectation of Eliott not returning, hoping he’d be surprised. He wasn’t, and Eliott was still gone. Imane had shared worried looks with him as class started for the morning that he’d only been able to return with a shrug, past the point of hoping any more.

Yann joined him for lunch that day, but Arthur left to go by himself off school grounds. Lucas wondered if it had anything to do with him, but he decided instead to focus on Yann, it had been way too long since the two of them had hung out one on one. 

“Should I even ask if you know what’s up with Eliott?” Yann asked, taking a bite of his pizza. He’s brought Lucas a slice as well, but Lucas had yet to conquer it. He was determined to, but kept stopping himself before he could. 

Lucas sighed. “No, because I’m as clueless as anyone is.”

“Fuck. I hope he’s ok? Like, I know you’re not his biggest fan, but I really hope nothing bad happened to him,” Yann lamented. 

“Me neither,” Lucas said, then quickly amended, “Can’t have a rivalry if my rival is missing in action.”

Yann quirked his lips into a small smirk, ruffling Lucas’ hair. “Let’s not talk about him then.”

“Good idea.”

Not talking about Eliott was one thing, not thinking about him was quite another, one Lucas was in no way prepared for. Yann wiped his mouth with his napkin and Lucas realized he’d already finished eating, and Lucas hadn’t even started. Fuck. It was so much easier to eat when he wasn’t the only one. 

“Do you know what’s up with Arthur?” Yann asked, just as Lucas worked up the nerve to take a bite. 

He faltered dropping the pizza back on his plate. “What do you mean?”

Yann shrugged. “Maybe nothing, but I just feel like he’s been acting weirdly closed off. You know Arthur, he always talks about everything all the time, even when we don’t want the details. Recently he hasn’t been talking about things as much, hasn’t been sneaking out as much. I mean, that part’s probably good, but I don’t know if he has some secret or something he doesn’t want us to know.”

Lucas had been wondering the same thing, actually. “I don’t know what it could possibly be, but we had a conversation last night that kind of made me wonder the same thing.”

Yann hummed, clearly not finding anything else to say about the matter. Lucas didn’t have anything else to say either, at least not without Arthur there to confirm or deny their suspicions, so he waited until Yann launched into a new topic, something about some new superhero movie the two of them just had to watch together. Lucas found himself laughing, and he found himself eating, the action easier when he was talking mindlessly about something that didn’t cause him worry. 

Lunch ended far too quickly and it was only then that Lucas realized he’d gone almost an hour without thinking about Eliott once. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

Vendredi 20:27

He was lying on Eliott’s bed when he got the first text. It hadn’t been purposeful, but he’d somehow wandered there, finding it exactly as he’d left it when he’d cleaned up some of Eliott’s things. It wasn’t like he’d expected anything to have moved, but he was somehow still surprised to see Eliott’s phone laying on his bedside table, dead now that it had been almost a week.

Unknown: Is this Lucas?

Lucas didn’t normally respond to unknown numbers, a lot of times they ended up being spam or his friends taking the piss at him, so he didn’t take the bait, dropping his phone back onto the bed and burying his face in Eliott’s pillow. It still smelled like him. Then his phone buzzed again, twice.

Unknown: Lucas Lallemant? 

Unknown: If it is you, Lucas, this is Caroline Demaury.

Lucas sat up faster than he would have thought possible, hands shaking. Why was Caroline Demaury texting him? Something must have happened to Eliott, something bad. 

Lucas: Mme. Demaury? Yes, this is Lucas. Is everything all right?

Unknown: Hello, Lucas, yes, everything is all right, but Eliott has been talking about you, so I wondered if you might come pay him a visit.

Lucas: Eliott is with you?

Unknown: Yes. You didn’t know that? We informed the school. 

Lucas: All due respect Mme. Demaury, but the last I heard from Eliott was Saturday night, so no, I had no idea he was with you.

Lucas: Is he ok? What happened? I didn’t know how to contact you but he said some things that made me really worried

Lucas: I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner I was just so scared

Unknown: No need to apologize, Lucas, none of this is your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. 

Lucas: What wasn’t anyone’s fault?

Unknown: I think it’s best if Eliott gets to explain himself. I can have Harold pick you up at school whenever you’d like.

Lucas: It’s ok, I can walk. I still remember where you live

Unknown: Lucas, it’s no trouble, I’d prefer to know you’re safe with Harold than out wandering the streets alone. He can pick you up in a half hour?

Lucas: Ok. Thank you Mme. Demaury 

Unknown: It’s ok to call me Caroline now, darling.

Lucas: Thank you, Caroline

Unknown: Let me know when Harold gets there, I’ll tell Eliott you’re coming. He hasn’t been very receptive to guests, but we’re hoping that he might want to see you.

Lucas: I want to see him too

Vendredi 21:21

Lucas didn’t know what to expect. The car ride to the Demaurys house had been slightly awkward, but Harold Demaury still treated him like he’d been best friends with Eliott for years, which was nice. He could only imagine the things they’d heard about him from Eliott over the years, and was thankful they didn’t appear to hold a grudge. 

Seeing Caroline Demaury for the first time in almost eight years was also a shock, and his throat got tight the minute he stepped into their home. This home, that felt more like his home than his actual home to him for so many years. It still looked practically the same. 

She folded him into a hug without a word, and Lucas wondered if maybe Eliott had let slip the nature of their falling out, all the problems Lucas hadn’t known how to face at ten years old. He waited with her in the kitchen for a little bit, because Eliott was sleeping. She didn’t say whether or not he’d been receptive to a visit from Lucas, so he could only hope for the best when he opened Eliott’s bedroom door and saw Eliott lying with his back to Lucas, bundled up under the covers. 

His bedroom was the only part of the house that had changed. It looked so different from what Lucas had known, but it was so distinctly Eliott that it was hard not to feel at home. There were drawings taped up on all the walls, an impressive collection of vinyl records that Lucas was both stunned and repulsed to see included dubstep. Dubstep. On vinyl. Leave it to Eliott to still have the absolute worst taste in music. There were old ballet shoes strewn about the room, just like in Lucas’ room back at his flatshare, and Lucas saw a few notebooks and folders labelled “Polaris” on his desk.

He sank down onto the bed next to Eliott, who didn’t move an inch. Lucas was beginning to wonder if he might still be asleep. 

“They told you, I suppose.” Eliott’s voice came muffled and broken, startling Lucas.

“Told me what?” he asked softly. 

Eliott buried his face further into his pillow, refusing to look at Lucas. “That I’m crazy.”

Lucas sank down next to Eliott, attempting to carefully fold his arms around him, but Eliott flinched away from his touch. “Eli?” he tried. 

“You don’t want this, Lucas, trust me.” He finally looked over at Lucas, eyes dead and empty as his voice. Lucas nearly cried, seeing him like that. He wanted to see Eliott full of life again. 

“I can decide for myself what I do and don’t want,” he said adamantly, waiting for Eliott to explain. 

Eliott sighed, closed his eyes. “I’m bipolar.”

Something clicked into place and Lucas’ head and he sighed in relief, realizing that made sense. He didn’t know much about bipolar disorder, but he knew that people sometimes had depressed and manic episodes, so that explained last weekend. “Ok,” Lucas said.

“Ok? That’s all you have to say?” 

“Sorry, um, I guess I don’t know what else to say? You could have told me sooner, or Arthur and Sofiane. We understand, though I’m sorry if we made you feel like we wouldn’t,” he amended. 

“I didn’t know,” Eliott said.

Lucas shifted to look at him better, and Eliott opened his eyes. “You didn’t know?”

Eliott shook his head. “Not until this week. I’d been diagnosed with depression previously, because I’d never had a manic episode before, but after last week…” He took a deep breath, “The police found me Sunday morning, and they got in contact with my parents somehow. I don’t remember the details, I was still manic during that time, but I guess my parents took me to the hospital and voila. Here I am. They told me that I would crash into a deep depression soon, but I didn’t believe them. I felt so good, I felt like nothing could ever knock me down again. But then I guess I crashed, like they said. It feels awful Lucas, worse than any depressive spiral I’ve ever had.”

“Oh,” Lucas started to understand, though he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to give Eliott pity, because he knew Eliott would hate that, so instead he said, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Why are you acting like this? Shouldn’t you be running by now?”

Lucas squinted his eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m fucking crazy! I could hurt you, or myself, or anyone and I don’t have any control over it and I don’t know what to do because my head is either empty or full and I can’t function like I’m supposed to and—”

“Eliott.” Lucas placed a hand on his cheek, and Eliott didn’t pull away. “You’re not crazy.”

“Tell that to the rest of the world,” Eliott hissed.

“I don’t care about the rest of the world, I care about you,” Lucas said.

Eliott blinked up at him, eyes so flat and gray when they usually brought as much life into the world as humanly possible. “Why?”

Why? Because Eliott was everything good in the world. He was the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening. He was the stars shining through Lucas’ window and making him feel less alone, less afraid of the dark. He was Lucas’ promise of a better life than the one he’d been living, he was the most beautiful person in the world. His mind was so complex and Lucas wanted to get to know every bit of it, even the parts that Eliott felt were shameful. Lucas didn’t think they were shameful at all, not if they made Eliott who he was. Eliott had shown Lucas time and time again that he wasn’t alone, and now it was time for Lucas to do the same. 

“Because you see me, and somehow still love me,” Lucas said, inching closer. Eliott didn’t back away, and he placed his hand on top of Lucas’, still resting on his face. “I’m the broken one, not you. You don’t deserve to be dealt this hand, you deserve only the best the world has to offer.”

“You’re not broken.”

“Neither are you. You’re not alone, either. Not anymore, never again.”

Eliott bit his lip. “How do you know?”

“How do any of us know anything? We don’t, but we have to have trust and patience and believe that the best is yet to come,” Lucas said, surprising himself. He’d never ever been the one to preach positivity in the face of darkness, but he could learn if that’s what Eliott needed from him.

“I’m going to be a burden to you.”

Lucas sighed. “So am I. Remember? Daddy issues, eating disorder, possible abandonment issues I’m only now realizing definitely exist. It’s a lot to deal with, for anyone. Including myself. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you ran for the hills. But you didn’t, and if you think I’m going to you’re dead wrong.”

“Lucas I don’t deserve you—”

“Me neither.”

“Lucas I’m serious—”

“Me too.” 

He was finally close enough that he could see every inch of Eliott’s flawless face, and he pressed their foreheads together gently. 

“I’m going to have to start taking medication, and I don’t want to. I’m going to lie to you about it and you’re going to get mad at me for lying, and then I’ll snap again and I’ll hurt us both,” Eliott said, and Lucas listened. “I’m going to have extreme highs and extreme lows and sometimes I won’t even be aware of it. I’ll yell at you, I’ll insult you, I’ll make you feel like shit and I won’t be able to help it.”

“I’m going to have to start eating again, like a normal person would, and I don’t want to. I’m going to try to lie about it and you’re going to get mad at me for lying and then I’ll snap and I’ll hurt us both,” Lucas said, and Eliott listened. “I’m going to have days where I shrink into a hole inside of myself because I don’t believe I’m worth it and nothing you say will help at all. I’ll yell at you, I’ll insult you, I’ll make you feel like shit, and I won’t be able to help it. You’re not alone in this either, Eli.”

“Lu.” It was a soft, hushed breath. A whisper, a promise. 

“And I don’t care about any of that stuff either, you know why? Because we don’t even know where we’ll be an hour from now, so why worry that far into the future? What’s the point of that? We’ll play a game, Lu and Eli, minute by minute. The only thing either of us has to worry about is the next minute, no time to dwell on the past or the future,” he proposed, meeting Eliott’s gaze again. “You in?”

Eliott took a deep, rattling breath. “I’m scared.”

“I am too, but I was scared of the dark and you brought all this light into my world and now I never have to be afraid again,” Lucas said, putting every ounce of honesty into his words.

“Lu and Eli, minute by minute,” Eliott repeated.

“Minute by minute.”

“Ok. I’m in.”

“Good, because I’d rather have you annoy me than not have you at all,” Lucas whispered with a smile, folding them closer into one another. Eliott laughed at that. It was small, almost indiscernible, but it was there. “You’re beautiful when you laugh,” Lucas said, because Eliott had said so when he was at his most vulnerable and he wanted nothing more than to return the favor. Plus, it was true.

“You’re still it for me, you know,” Eliott said, and Lucas’ heart soared. “If I couldn’t have you I don’t think I would ever have anyone else.” 

Lucas pulled his hand from Eliott’s face and laced their fingers together, pressing them to his heart. “You’re still it for me too. In this universe, in every universe.”

Eliott said nothing more, but he allowed Lucas to place a kiss on his brow bone, resting there a moment as if Eliott would disappear should he move away. Eliott didn’t even give him a chance to move away, tangling their bodies and legs together in that jigsaw way they always did, breathing synching up as they each held the world in their hands and tried not to ever let go.

Maybe they’d both been dealt a poor hand in this life, but was it really a poor hand if they’d found each other through it? Lucas would go through all of it again if they found a way to end up at this exact moment in time, this one where it felt like all peace had been restored in the atmosphere. They may have still had a long way to go before they could find that peace all the time, but Lucas knew that they would get there eventually. They were both fighters, and the thing they’d fight most for was each other. 

They deserved to live a soft, sweet song, not a tempestuous melody, and Lucas was ready to write it for them.

#skam france #elu fic #elu ballet au #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #elu

[queenreginascontour]

Hi I literally hate college so god damn fucking much but I can’t drop out because I need to get the degree if I want my parents to ever speak to me again. Any advice on how to make this entire experience less miserable

ok first of all im sorry for being an asshole and taking like nine years to respond to this ive just been busy and i wanted to give u a well thought out answer

i guess my answer would depend on why u dont like college- academic reasons, social reasons, or maybe just everything- so i’ll try to cover everything ? it makes me sad when i hear about people having a bad college experience, as mine has been so positive, but it’s important to remember that college is often idealized as being the best four years of your life- which, honestly, shouldn’t be true. that being said, college is truly not for everyone, and that’s ok. 

in terms of the social aspect, i think i’ve already answered some asks about people struggling socially in college, which i’ll try to find and link here (they might also come up if u search “college” on my blog ????? unsure). having a good group of friends can make or break your college experience, and idk what year u r but if you havent found ride-or-die friends like that yet, dont worry!! it’s all about making your campus smaller and putting yourself out there by joining clubs and going to events. it’s never too late to join a club. everyone around you wants to make more friends, too. im also adamant about going off campus and really connecting with your school’s surrounding area and carving out a space for yourself; it’s the smallest thing but it will make your experience so much better. if the issue is that you truly dont vibe with people on your campus even after joining clubs pertaining to your interests, you might want to consider transferring, if that’s an option for you. it might just be the college itself that doesnt mesh with you, and there might be one out there that does. ok also i found all the random asks ive answered ab college i think so here and here and here also here

academically, if youre a freshman/sophomore, take a few intro classes to majors you might be interested in. im a sophomore, and i cant even keep track of all the people i know who entered college pursuing one major, had a miserable first couple semesters, ended up changing majors after taking a random intro course to whatever to fulfill a core requirement, and are now thriving. personally, ive made my mental state go a little crazy because i am, first of all, indecisive as fuck- i didnt have a plan in terms of a major going into college and i always envied people who knew they wanted to be a doctor or whatever since second grade- and second of all, i have a fuckton of different interests. so, even when i decided on my majors, i went a little crazy (and still do) looking at other majors and wondering if i should do one of them instead. but it’s importance to have confidence in your decisions, unless it truly feels wrong.

finally, i know you probably dont want to hear this, but i would recommend talking to your parents if you truly dont foresee yourself ever enjoying college. going through four years of college hating it would not only take an emotional and mental toll on yourself, but also an economic toll on whoever is paying for it. it just might not be worth it. before talking to your parents, consider making a “plan” to present to them about productive things that you plan to do instead of college, whether that be starting a career, joining a volunteer corps, etc. you could also present it to them as a gap year- who knows, you could end up doing something that you actually enjoy and are successful at that you can do instead of going to college, or you might be surprised and end up feeling ready to return. i hope things start to look up for you, and im always here if you need someone to talk to.

#ask

[dethl]

“why does this year feel SO FUCKING LONG”

realizes first semester of freshman year was 2017

“what”

realizes i graduated last year

“no slow down”

realizes that despite feeling like one long year, i experienced two full years without being fully aware of it

“h-”

really though just the past year has been such a fucking whirlwind of change for me. i finally realized the main reason behind my life feeling like it was in shambles growing up was due almost entirely to a toxic and emotionally abusive family in a falling apart trailer in a town that no one has ever heard of. i start to disconnect from them and attempt to gain independence and i notice i actually feel alive. 

2016-2017 was so awful for me mentally, that i physically was losing the ability to feel - pain, pressure, texture. i was shut down almost entirely and really felt like a shell of a person, i had no will to live and had to actually search for reasons to keep myself alive. eating was hard, talking was hard, forming a cohesive thought was hard without my mind hammering how useless i was

2018 was hard for the first half of it, first breakup with an emotionally abusive ex that formed our relationship almost entirely around me being dependent on him made finding my direction in life again difficult. very difficult. i was definitely in a trance-like state for a couple months, until i started moving myself back in to friend groups i walled myself off from because my ex made me feel like i couldnt talk to anyone else. and i think that was one of the best things i could have done for myself in hindsight

i noticed i was able to talk more, in text and in person, without struggling to find the words. i wasnt trailing off or finding words choked back in my throat while i struggled to initiate conversation as much, or now, at all.

i was able to look in the mirror without being repulsed at my appearance, something that i was unable to do for most of my life without feeling literally sick to my stomach. i started expressing myself more to how i see fit

 i dyed my hair for the first time in february and while it looked fucking awful and i honestly hated it, it was the first step i needed towards finding who i really was. i forced myself to present as masculine throughout high school because i felt i was too ugly to be seen as a chick (this isnt a knock against transgender people, of course. i just simply realized i wasnt any happier personally and i was just confusing a lifetime of really complex issues. but this is a long topic so ill cut it here. in short im probably likely nb, if anything, instead of a trans male or cis female). i allowed myself to experiment more with things traditionally seen as feminine, like makeup and jewelry and the types of clothes i wore. and i felt more confident doing so. prior to this i just didnt feel like i deserved these things

in the summer i started getting closer to my eldest sister, and i got my first break from my parents for the first time since fourth grade - a decade ago. i spent two weeks away from home, mostly by myself most of the day. and i realized i finally got a chance to feel relaxed, even happy. but i couldnt figure out why necessarily

fall came. i decided to try a crack at finally taking all graphic design/art classes, and i realized i was absolutely miserable. i hated every fucking assignment except for one class. but the difference between this and the years before? i was feeling. i got a bit uhh.. extremely shoddy with my performance (whoops failing classes), and in doing this i realized that this wasnt the path i was meant to be on. art was becoming a chore for me starting about 2015, and up until this point. i wasnt growing an audience despite forcing myself to draw every day, and this was killing me because i thought i was doomed to failure, i never considered any other options except doing art

 but in november, i set up a tour for a college i was between going to initially, alongside the one i ended up going to. and i was ecstatic about what the future could hold for me for literally the first time in my life - i wanted to go into cybersecurity. and with the chains lifted, doing art just for myself and my friends became fun. my audience didnt matter anymore, and my mindset began to shift from “please look at this i dont want to fail” to “hey check this thing out i made its fucking awesome”. i had confidence in my work. this confidence carried me to be able to do semiregular streaming on twitch, something i dreamt of doing for the past three or four years

somewhere around this point, i finally opened up about trauma thats been plaguing me since i was four years old, trauma so bad i literally had flashbacks to the point i couldnt sleep at night for the past ten years. the flashbacks stopped. i stopped hating myself for something i had no control over. i felt like myself for the first time

and i sit here now as the winter begins and the year comes to a close, and i feel more like myself than i ever have before in the 20 years ive been alive. obviously theres a lot more i could go into, this doesnt even include the rabbithole that is my sexuality. but good lord

#hyudoposts #this gets sad and kinda blunt but its more of a year introspective and it gets better #so its more of a recovery post like usual as of late. im fine dw

[jokeson-u]

i feel like talking about myself bc i do better coping and thinking when i have to articulate my thoughts and i dont feel comfortable enough about this stuff with my therapist or friends so ill do it here where no one will care lmao

drug, sex, depression tw under the cut

i gotta lot of things to say. idk where to start. i guess freshman year of college cus it was shitty. i was in a community college living at home and transporting to school by train. i went to each class maybe like 3 or 4 times and then just stopped showing up and instead. for some reason. decided to spend my days riding the trains or sneaking home to smoke (weed, i dont smoke tobacco and ill get to that later. actually i can just say that now i dont like cigarettes bc my parents chose buying cigs and alcohol over feeding me and my sisters when we were kids. also why i dont drink.) so i dropped probably at least a solid $500 that semester on food and ubers (train was free with the student card) and weed (actually no i just took all my bud from my dad so). i was severely depressed and just dug myself further into that hole by not going to class because no way could i tell my parents. then i like ??? idk had this dude over my house and stuff happened and i felt rly shitty afterwards and didnt rly know how to tell anyone. then later later my ex bf texted me cus he was sad and i had visited him the month prior and we had sex and it was not good. like i felt safe with him, ive known him since i was 13 nd we’ve been friends since then too, but he was a shitty bf both times we dated (sophomore year and senior year) and like .. i dont regret sleeping with him, bc he is someone i trust despite or weird relationship to each other (like we text maybe once a month for a few mins to check in sometimes), but i also. idk. that was my first time and i think virginity is a social construct but at the same time i wish i had an enjoyable first time. like maybe i was ok with it then bc i was trying to overcompensate for my experience with that guy from earlier in the year and not feel so used bc i know my ex at least cared about me and he felt bad afterwards bc it obviously was weird but. idk. it was just a really horrible time like... i felt like i had no friends bc they all treated my shitty and where gone to school anyways. i had no one to talk to, or felt i didnt, and everytime i tried id get in trouble. like i felt so trapped and depressed and didnt know how to get out of it. i was in the negatives in my bank account and didnt know how to pay it all off. i was hanging out with/spending money on/smoking with people i didnt even like just so i wouldnt be alone. it was rly rly shitty and one of my lowest points. but at the end of the semester i told my mom the idea of going back to school made me miserable so i dropped out and started working for my cousin for a little bit. then i got really really sick and got diagnosed with crohns disease which sucked as it but then i spent my bday throwing up with a 103 fever and had to spend the following week in the hospital which also totally fucked me up bc i didnt eat for almost that whole week bc the staff wasnt giving me food i could eat despite me telling them over and over. plus it was during covid so i couldnt see anyone or have any physical contact and it was just horrible. but i couldnt smoke during my time in the hospital obviously so i had a tolerance break and it was kinda nice to smoke again after that but? i dont rly smoke much anymore, my friends are all gone, i have no space or time to anymore. my friend always says u cant be addicted to weed but that first semester i know it was a dependency issue and i was glad that im past that but sometimes i get worried i guess that im too dependent on stuff like. my carts (which techincally arent weed bc theyre delta 8 so its legal) and im spending way too much money on those now too and UGH i hate feeling like i cant control myself bc my parents addictions fucked me and my sisters up but this is different cus i dont have kids or ppl relying on me but it still scares me bc i dont even ever feel high anymore when i smoke (weed OR cart) but i do it anyways in hopes that ill feel SOMETHING again and its just a constant cycle. anyways then this year i started working part time and then full time which has been good. but now next month ill be out of the full time job and im stressed about that. ok thats all for now folks bye

#drug tw #Personal #capital P

[thenightisland]

you know the drill:

this is becoming like its own series but idk how else to explain this awful year i don’t even feeling like properly linking so here’s just the URLs of the other ones in the series: 1. http://thenightisland.tumblr.com/post/161087786689/explanationsupdates-under-the-cutmore-i 2. http://thenightisland.tumblr.com/post/161920216354/additional-updatesexplanations-under-the-cut 3. http://thenightisland.tumblr.com/post/163767959805/updates-under-the-cutmore-post-one-post-two-on 4. http://thenightisland.tumblr.com/post/164398486219/on-the-fourth-edition-of-what-the-fuck-is

one of the assessors got jumped a while back. she was just walking past a pt in the main assessment dept and he jumped up, punched her in the back of the head, took her to the ground and beat the fuck out of her. she was out for weeks and weeks and had broken facial bones. i can’t believe she didn’t quit.

our nurse executive quit though. not like, went prn or gave two weeks notice, like just straight up was like I’M DONE and walked out which honestly is the closest i’ve ever come to respecting him.

while having more psychologically unstable pts isn’t new, having more medically unstable pts has been a problem lately. like our crash cart is not like a medical hospital’s crash cart it’s like. an ambu bag some iv supplies and a stethoscope no lifesaving medications. when a pt has a medical issue we send them out to a medical hospital because obv we don’t have the resources to treat complex medical issues where we work. which didn’t used to be an issue because you’d used to see maybe two medical codes a year on my unit. we’ve had /ten/ since my last update post /just on my shift/. two of which weren’t even “pt is going downhill fast” codes they were “pt has no heartbeat and isn’t breathing” like we had to fucking bring two people back from the goddamn dead /within ten minutes of each other/. we’re all like we’re psych nurses man if we wanted to do this shit we’d work er. [and the er we’re required to send these pts to is awful like they sent us back a guy who had almost died twice in three days who had an /untreated brain tumor/ bc obv he’s totally fine]. or we’ve been doing mash unit style medicine like the suicidal kid with partial thickness burns all over his chest and neck that literally no one was doing anything about. we were debriding burns with a mixture of different PO IM and SQ drugs to achieve the same effect as IV morphine because debriding is extremely painful but not doing it will just make things worse and no one else seemed to care so we just fucking did it. like we’ve done so much medical nursing lately. like the one with the uncontrolled severe seizures that led to the medical hospital labeling her first break schizophrenia despite no family history of mental illness but /five different medical issues that all cause psychosis/. or the one they let on the unit despite being on the do not readmit who has untreated hiv that he actively tries to give to other people and /active tuberculosis/. or the one with the aneurysm. or the one with severe CHF. and on and on and on. and remember: we’re not the most medically unstable unit in the hospital because we have a 40 bed /geriatric psych unit/ so you can imagine the kind of pts /they’re/ getting. on the plus side, all of our ten odd codes lived.

my personal life is still a goddamn mess, of course, but that’s a given. don’t even know where to begin with all that. and i can’t talk about a lot of it which makes it that much more fun.

i had an entire crisis about the odyssey [which tbh is still kind of going on even after /weeks/] because i’m getting so cagey in memphis because i fucking hate this town. and i just got back from new orleans which is the closest thing i have to an ithaca at the moment and it killed me to come back to this fucking city.

i’m also really paranoid right now because after i come back from vacations, something terrible always happens and i’m not exaggerating it’s like clockwork to the point that the bad things have all happened between friday and sunday after i’ve returned from my vacation, each time, without fail. well that would be this weekend so i am just waiting to see what great horrors await me this goddamn time. [last time, it was the whole coworker killed in vehicular homicide thing]. but i guess paranoia isn’t the right word. you’re only paranoid if you’re wrong, and my life has already set the precedent. so i guess anxious is the better word.

the anxiety is increased given that my mother has been out of work all week because they’ve had trouble regulating her blood sugar and so she’s been really sick and even said so herself she’ll probably end up in the er over the weekend because she doesn’t think she can make it till her next doc appt because she’s miserable, and she’s already been in the er once when this weird shit started happening a month or so ago so the Vacation Curse has me even more concerned than usual, which is saying something. 

there’s a new psych doc working now and everyone is really unsettled by him and we’re pretty sure he’s a genuine psychopath like completely without exaggeration and he’s already done a lot of really creepy things to/with staff members and one nurse said in passing “i’ve known a lot of doctors like him he’ll end up fucking a pt at some point” which we initially left to hyperbole but he’s been doing shit like transporting female pts to other units without the staff’s consent in his own car which is like all kinds of not allowed, and the way he talks to some of the staff is just downright rapey honestly. and so we had a rough case this summer who, through the combined efforts of my squad, we got her from a diagnosis of intellectual disability with schizophrenia, nonverbal, self harming all the time, history of physical and sexual abuse, constantly in restraints and on a 1:1 obs level to a new diagnosis of autism spec with ptsd because her “hallucinations” were /flashbacks/ and she ended up very social and verbose and like fucking read william blake for fun and had a great sense of humor and was off all special observations and had a transfer to another facility pending so she could get more 1:1 long term therapy, and the creepy doctor was covering her case while her actual doc was out of town and he rode all the way to the other hospital with her which is another thing you do not do, and we found out from a coworker that she is now a /2:1/ [two staff members within arm’s reach 24/7], self harming again, in full shutdown/meltdown mode, and nonverbal. and it was such a rapid deterioration that all of us lost sleep over the possibility that this creepy doctor might have done something because even after she was at the other hospital and therefore no longer our pt, /he kept going to see her/. which fucked us up a lot because we were the ones who worked so hard for so long with her. like even the thought of it.

recently had 25th birthday so naturally had a crisis about that because i’d always said my goal was to be out of memphis by 25 and yet here we are. 

another of our fave pts, esp one of /my/ fave pts, died out of literally nowhere. the day before my birthday. so that was great.

also felt really surreal to see the news about the convictions in the holly bobo case, which i found out about when one of my coworkers was reading the news on his phone during a lull one night i forgot that to him and everyone else it’s a national news story [hell it even has its own wikpedia page] but to me it’s just /holly/ because she was /in the class above me in our nursing program/. my first semester in college i remember seeing her face on missing posters on every building on campus. so it was really a weird moment of dissociation for me. glad the motherfucker was found guilty on all charges, obv. 

the tech of mine who got his skull slammed into the floor, the one who’s been out with what can only be called severe psychological trauma, is supposed to be coming back the third week in october. which i just. i mean i’m glad because he’s one of our best guys, but i’m also like /why the fuck would he come back/ because he could be a fucking english professor again. motherfucker spent part of his youth growing up in italy and montreal, lived on the west coast for years, /was/ a college professor, did time as a script doctor in LA, and was a fucking thriller novelist who just gone girled himself for whatever reason and ended up working with us. there’s literally a reddit thread asking if anyone knows what happened to him and i want to be like don’t worry it’s fine he works with me. but so we’re like why would you come back to this place after what happened to you when you have so many other options available to you????? what are you running from that makes you so desperate to keep centering your life around a locked acute psych ward???? why did you gone girl yourself to begin with??? like he was screwed up enough there for a while that he wasn’t even answering his calls or texts and our boss had to send the police to do welfare checks on him because he lives alone so it’s like man why not go back to the life you had before and /get away from all of this/ it’s not like my situation where i’d rather be living a different life but have never done so, he already has the foundation because he’s already lived a different life he has an in that i don’t have and i can’t for the life of me figure out why he thinks working as an acute pysch tech is the better option. 

but i mean. we /do/ call our unit the hotel california for a reason.

#karen's adventures in trying to sort her life out #this got longer than i intended whoops

[terumiafuro]

bleh 

god today i’m just... very stressed about my future and it’s really multifaceted. it’s definitely partly bc my anxiety is High bc something reminded me of my trauma the other day so last night was somniphobia central but even after taking a 2 hr nap (i wasnt sleeping all two hours but im def more well-rested) i’m just... blergh

for one dunkin didn’t give me a straight answer about if i’m coming back, like i literally went there this morning and talked to the assistant manager face to face and she said they were reviewing applications so they’d pull mine up from last year and then she asked about my availability which makes me think that it’s gonna be like, they give me the weird hours no one wants? and last year part of why i liked the job was bc getting shifts out of the way in the morning was REALLY nice, bc then i was awake and i had the afternoons free, but if she has me closing regularly or god forbid opening (opening shifts at dunks start at 3:30-4:30 AM depending on the day) like i genuinely just... might not do it? and if they don’t get back to me i have to try to find a seasonal job within like 2 months while being literally 500 miles away

and part of me just doesn’t want to get a job bc asking for time off/working out schedules last summer was so immensely stressful and maybe it’ll be less so with a COMPETENT manager but since they’ve been so obtuse with communications i doubt it and i just. i just want a nice relaxing summer? school has been so absurdly stressful for me and like frankly, i’m miserable 90% of the time? the only reason i’ve kind of taken transferring to a school in maryland (like jhu most likely bc its the only one at like the same level) off the table is bc ive had SUCH good experiences with classes and professors, esp in the department i want to major in. and it sucks so much bc this was my DREAM school, i cried for hours after getting in i was so happy, but i’m miserable? and like the idea of taking a semester off is just scary as shit bc its just not like... the normal path

and i’m so stressed about my plans long term, my dad tried to have a conversation with me the other day about my plans for the summer and then he was like “and what are your long term plans?” and i mumbled off something about med school maybe or something in public health and he was like “you know, if you really want to do anything in public health you need to be a physician” which is like wow! great! fucking great! and i dipped out of that convo REAL fast but i’ve just been avoiding thinking about med school since my mom and i argued about it when i was home for katsu and she basically said that i shouldn’t be thinking about it for now and it stings so much bc i have NO idea what else i’d do that would make me happy but i don’t know if i can deal with it emotionally, i don’t know if i can deal with the stress of the profession. and i think it’s worse given that like... my dad doesnt get my mental health the way my mom does, he was like, top of his class two varsity sports in hs, played college sports and graduated magna cum laude from college and got his masters and his med degree at a time when med school admissions were super less competitive than they are now and so i think he has this mindset of like “well /i/ did it so why can’t you?”

and like this is something it would be great to talk to my therapist about but i’m in this weird situation where i never went back to seeing my boston therapist bc we didnt mesh but also bc i tricked myself into thinking i was at a point where i could cope with my PTSD on my own and like i guess i could start seeing my md psych again this summer but like? that’s just ANOTHER thing to stress about. i don’t know. today’s not a good day i’m just trying to think through things and the future is scary as shit

#bryssip #like if you read :///

[illyriantremors]

Beneath the Stars Chapter 8

Chapter: I II III IV V VI VII

AO3 Linkage

Summary: After a particularly regrettable fight with her sisters and Tamlin, Feyre tracks her boyfriend down at Ianthe's Newspaper party and receives an unwelcome surprise. Full breakdown ensues.

Chapter 8

Nesta and Elain froze when they saw me. No one said anything, so I cleared my throat and decided to go first.

“Hey,” and then I couldn’t think of anything else to say. It wasn’t like either of them to be home in the middle of the semester especially on a Sunday night before they’d have to be back early the next day for class.

“Feyre,” Elain said trying to smile at the same time that Nesta said sharply, “We need to talk.”

Elain faced our older sister and pressed her hands downward towards the floor mouthing something. Nesta grimaced, but spoke again with a little intensity. “Mom wants you to come home.”

“What?”

“Can we at least sit down first?!” Elain stammered.

“Fine,” Nesta and I said at the same time taking seats on the living room couches. “What is going on?” I asked. “What do you mean mom wants me to come home? This is home. And when did she decide to talk to you again?”

My sisters looked at each other tightly. Elain bit her lip. “Feyre…” she said slowly with careful deliberation. “We never stopped talking to mom.”

There was a silence during which everyone was uncomfortable and an awful truth sank in. Mom wasn’t talking to my sisters. They were talking to her - actively. I’d had it all backwards.

The only person mom had apparently stopped talking to was me.

And dad.

“But she left us,” I said as a raw spot in my throat went numb. “How could you-”

“We haven’t lived here in years, Feyre,” Nesta said coldly. “It’s time you didn’t either.”

“And go where? With her? Nesta, she hasn’t spoken to me since the night she left.”

“That phone works both ways, you know.” She flipped her hand in the direction of the phone still sitting in my palm. I hadn’t let go of it since I’d left Rhys’s - save for driving of course. “You could have called her. But instead you’ve been sitting here all summer acting like she’s the reincarnation of Hitler and it’s ridiculous.”

“Nesta,” Elain warned, but I was already fuming.

“What’s ridiculous is you defending her. Nesta, mom abandoned us. And she didn’t even bother to say goodbye.”

“That’s because we went with her!”

I sat back feeling like she’d just driven a stake through my heart. “You - you what?”

“That’s right. I dumped dad’s sorry ass and moved in with mom. She got a new place close to school so that she could make it easier on me and Elain with classes.”

I looked to my middle sister. Her body constricted inward on itself as she drew her shoulders up high around her face, her back curving over herself. “What does she mean when she says it’s easier on her and you?”

Elain looked like she might cry. “Feyre - Feyre, we just want you to be safe, okay? That’s all this is about. Mom left so that we could have a normal life because dad’s not well. Now that she has a place arranged, you can get away from him.”

She tried to lay her hand against mine, but I brushed it off. Betrayal took on a whole new meaning as I realized my sisters had left me too. I could see it in Elain’s guilty expression because she knew full well this was a secret her and Nesta had purposefully hidden from me. Why on earth they thought it mattered now to take me away was beyond me.

“Dad’s fine,” I said. “And anywhere with mom could never be a home. Not for me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nesta snapped. She shot out of her seat, ignoring Elain’s strangled gasp and disappeared, coming back a moment later with the kitchen trash can in her hand. It was empty save for at least half a dozen empty alcohol bottles.

Whiskey, bourbon, vodka… whatever dad could get his hands on so long as it took the pain away each night. I hadn’t realized he’d been going through so many bottles after I went to bed.

“You think dad’s okay?” Nesta shouted. “Look at this and tell me this is okay Feyre. Tell me!”

“Shh, he’ll hear you!” Elain said, standing up to put herself on Nesta’s level. Good luck to her. No one could ever pull even with Nesta. She was a tower of fire and venom hell itself could not have forged.

Elain pointed upstairs to where dad’s bedroom was. I prayed he was sleeping deeply by this point, even if that only further proved Nesta’s point…

“I don’t care if he hears me. Let him! He’s an ass for doing this to us and he’s out of his fucking mind.”

She threw the trash can on the floor and the bottles rattled inside causing me to jump. “For fuck’s sake, Nesta - he’s sick. That’s why he needs our help!”

“Get a grip, Feyre. He’s a drunk, and a lazy, depressed one at that. You can’t help him. You can hardly help yourself! Look at you running around with that loser thinking you have a life. You’re just as miserable and pitiful as dad is.”

“Which is why you have to come with us,” Elain said and then froze, realizing how she’d just sounded. “I mean - no, Feyre, I only meant that it’s not good for you to be around dad so much when-”

“I know exactly what you meant, Elain,” I interjected entirely stone faced. “I get it. I’m worthless. Mom said the same thing - right before she walked out. So save it. I’m not going with her. I needed her - I needed all of you - and you all left. Now dad needs me and I’m sure as shit not ditching out on him like the pair of you.”

“Such bullshit, Feyre,” Nesta said, but I cut her off with a shout so shrill, I hardly recognized my own voice.

“That’s enough! For years you have treated me like shit, Nesta and I don’t know why. I’m sorry your perfect sisterhood got interrupted ten years down the road, but you can blame mom and dad for that. So just go back to school. You can pretend like I don’t exist. It’s what you normally do anyway, right? Feyre doesn’t have a life. Feyre doesn’t have friends. Feyre’s not important. Well guess what - you were right. I don’t know why you even bothered coming.”

I stormed past them and managed to wait until I hit the stairs before I let the tears fall. Elain tried to call after me, but I listened as Nesta cut her off and made some excuse about it getting late and early morning classes or some other.

When I heard the car start, I dared peak out the window to make sure they were really leaving and then I went back downstairs to check on dad. The door was shut, but not locked. When I opened it, the room was pitch dark.

Dad was a collapsed heap in the middle of his bed. He was lying on his stomach so I couldn’t see his face, but a second later his body gave a great heave and a heavy snore erupted out of him.

He was okay.

I went downstairs and fetched a broom to clean up the broken beer bottle that had fallen on the floor beside his bed and cracked open, adding it to the trash can Nesta had shoved in my face before taking it all outside.

And then I went to bed wondering if I’d ever have a day that didn’t fill me with some kind of darkness again.

That was the worst part, I decided. Never feeling completely whole. Some days I woke up and watched the world around me burn. Other days I woke up and felt almost normal, but never entirely so.

For some reason, the universe insisted that something had to be off at all times. There were struggles that were easier to pinpoint and understand - problems like the trash can or the unanswered text messages or the unfilled applications, all of which were symbols of a lot more than what they were as simple objects orbiting in and out of my life.

But the days where I couldn’t figure it out, where everything was seemingly fine - those were the days that nearly killed me. I could wake up, pick out an outfit that made me feel good about myself and still feel like dirt.

I could sit at lunch and joke with Tamlin and sometimes even Lucien and hardly touch my food.

I could get an A on every test, come home to find dad stone cold sober, watch my favorite tv show, and get all of my homework done on time and it didn’t matter because I felt miserable. Something was missing. I had people in my life at every turn and I felt disconnected to all of them. I would say things I didn’t mean, ignore the people and ideas that mattered, and let the anger take over while Feyre coasted on autopilot.

The only time I didn’t feel like a complete zombie faking it just to get from one day to the next was my time spent with Rhys and Mor, but I kept those interactions as brief as possible. I sensed Tamlin didn’t like me being around them even though he wouldn’t tell me why, and most days I was too tired to argue. So the guilt clipped my smiles and every time I hung around Rhys for SBC meetings, a little hole in my heart opened up as soon as another closed.

And I was so sick of it. Sick of never knowing what normal felt like anymore. I missed it horribly. Missed understanding what it was like to live life without knowing with any certainty what kind of day I was going to have, what my body was going to dictate I felt regardless of what I wanted. Never had I felt so empty and full to bursting at the same time. It dragged me down and down and down.

Tamlin finally cornered me Monday to talk about the time I’d been spending on student council. He hadn’t spoken to me all day for never calling him back after my first day at work even though I apologized profusely for it all through lunch.

I was just about to open the door to the administration building when I found Tamlin pushing in front of me to slam it shut so hard the window pane vibrated.

“Are you shitting me right now, Feyre?” He kept a hand firmly on the door so that there was no chance of me getting past him.

“What the hell are you doing? Tamlin - shit!”

He stepped in front me, his face only inches from mine. I’d never seen him explode with so much anger before. It made me nervous. Where was Lucien?

“I thought I told you to stay away from Rhys? And now I find out you’re on student council with him? Shit, Fey - is this where you’ve been going every Monday when you ditch on me?”

“Oh because you don’t ditch out on me all the damn time for Newspaper?”

“That’s because Newspaper is actually important!”

All the fire went out of me as that single word Nesta had thrown at me reverberated in my head.

Important.

As in - I was not important.

“I’m getting somewhere with this and you’re wasting your time when I need you most. I tried to call you a million times yesterday and you wouldn’t pick up.”

“I was working. I was…”

With Rhys.

“You were working, huh. At eleven o’clock at night?”

The trash can falling to the floor.

Nesta hollering.

Elain’s milky doe-eyes cringing at me.

And mom, mom was…

“There’s a party tonight at Ianthe’s. She’s announcing co-editors finally. I was going to ask you to go with me, but obviously,” he turned and gestured roughly at the concrete walls I wanted desperately to crawl into, “you have other commitments, so I won’t bother.”

Won’t bother with you is what he’s really saying, my mind registered. When did I get so jacked up?

“If you’re smart - if I matter at all to you, you’ll stay the fuck away from him.”

“What exactly is your problem with him?”

“Should it really matter? Honestly, Feyre. I’m your boyfriend and you should trust me, which is a heck of a lot more than I can say for you right now. He’s not good to be around and he used me and his sister horribly a few years back. Set us both on the wrong path. That’s all you need to know.”

Tamlin left and I hardly took notice of anything as my feet led me mindlessly inside, past the reception desk, and into the meeting room where our SBC sessions took place. I prayed this wouldn’t be one of the days where the principal joined us.

Cassian was the only one there yet and when he saw me, his eyebrows went through the roof.

“What the hell happened to you?”

I sat down and replied with the only two words I knew anymore. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Because you look like crap and that’s putting it mildly.”

Heat flooded my face as a wave of embarrassment crept over me. His expression softened, but he still looked… confused.

“Hey,” he said much more gently. “You know you can talk about it if you need to. I can take the punches if there’s something you need to get off your chest.”

And he meant it. I could tell. Cassian stared at me and he understood something - maybe everything, I wasn’t sure.

I took a good look at Cassian right then, perhaps my first real look at him ever. It was hard to see past the hulkish figure, but for once I managed it. His football jersey hung out of his backpack with dried mud and grass stains worn into the seams. That meant practice almost every day after school. And he wasn’t stupid - not by a long shot. Cassian was taking just as many AP classes this year as Az was. Not to mention Student Council duties which Cassian was very attentive to underneath the pseudo-mockery he made of it.

He’d grown up on the move. Military family, dad probably never home. Was that what drove him? Was that why he gave so much? Because no one gave him anything?

Was that what he was seeing and assessing right now as he stared back at me?

I didn’t have a chance to find out. Mor breezed into the room and plopped down in the seat next to me. I took one look at Cassian and just barely shook my head in the negative.

“Well I’m pooped,” she said throwing her arms down beside her. She had her cheer uniform on so she must have just gotten out of practice. Cheer was an entire period unto itself just like a regular class. “Rhys better keep this meeting short. I’m tired of talking about pep rallies. They get exhausting when you have to perform at every one of ‘em instead of just kicking back in the stands like you lazy lot do.”

She was making a joke, that much was clear. Her smile was bright and clear as always, but when Cassian didn’t say anything and she took in my sullen mood, the redness of my eyes, her curiosity spiked. “Am I missing something, or-”

“Everything’s fine,” I said totally on autopilot. “How was cheer?”

She was still skeptical, but with a fake smile plastered all over my face and an encouraging nod, she was forced to answer my question.

The meeting itself passed in a blur. Rhys really did keep it short and I took the first opportunity to leave when it was over and bolted. He’d been eyeing me worriedly too many times and I kept thinking about what Tamlin had mentioned - how Rhys had somehow hurt him and his sister. I didn’t even know he had a sister.

I’d hardly looked at Rhys or said more than was absolutely necessary. Mor was asking if she could have a word with him when I was halfway out the door.

I stewed for the remainder of the afternoon unable to shake off the memory of Tamlin slamming the door shut in front of me. Tamlin getting in my face and yelling so harshly at me. Tamlin losing his temper so much that it frightened me what he might do standing so close.

Homework went forgotten. I ignored dad when he called up the stairs to my room in the attic that he’d made dinner. I wasn’t hungry. Food just didn’t seem… important.

I nestled in the corner of my room hugging my knees to my chest. The walls were still blank and the thought of painting them as I’d wanted to was now unbearable.

This wasn’t right. I wasn’t right.

I was breaking - maybe even already broken beyond repair.

But I had to try.

By the time I got to Ianthe’s, I could barely drive. I probably should have called someone. Her front yard was a mess of parked cars. The entire Newspaper staff was likely invited and from the sounds of celebration going on inside, it seemed she had already announced her co-editors.

No one answered my knock on the door, so I let myself in. People milled about everywhere and while it wasn’t a booming sound, music played distantly in the background.

Lucien sat on one of the couches with a cup in his hand. He was laughing - the happiest I’d seen him in weeks - chatting amiably with a brunette when he looked over and spotted me. His face went still as death and I recognized the look. I’d worn it too many times myself.

Fear.

I scanned the room and reached the conclusion at the same time Lucien saw it dawn on my face. He shot up in a hurry, but I moved down the hall.

There were too many doors. Ianthe’s house wasn’t multi-storied like most of the upper class mansions in this ridiculous city, but the layout of her lone floor stretched on forever. I could hear Lucien shouting after me.

The first two rooms were empty and the third was a bathroom, but on the fourth I struck gold.

“Feyre, don’t!”

I swung the door open into the dimly lit room. It was too dark for me to see properly, but my other senses took over. I could smell them together - scented the sweat collecting between them. I could feel it too. That tension between them as they moved? It was palpable.

Worst of all perhaps, I could hear it. The sound of skin on skin. The smack of lips sucking and nipping to tease and delight. The crinkle of sheets tangling between their legs.

The groan emanating from Ianthe’s lips as he pressed into her…

My body started shaking. I fumbled against the wall looking for the switch. Lucien collided into me with a whispered admonishment, but the force of him knocked me further and I found the light.

Tamlin and Ianthe were nothing like I’d imagined in the five seconds I’d stood in the dark. They were a million times worse. In the moments between the lights coming on and the realization dawning on Tamlin as Ianthe writhed beneath him, I saw her face - saw how her mouth parted and her eyes squeezed shut with delight and it wrecked me.

Rage replaced the guilt and grief that had ushered me over.

“Feyre,” Tamlin said, all movement ceasing. We stared at each other and I was vaguely aware of the party coming to a standstill behind me. The world was so silent when it came to a standstill. Tamlin’s lips trembled, his chest heaved. He looked down at Ianthe who was clutching the muscles of his arms.

He moved to get off the bed and I stepped back. “Fey?”

My blood boiled. I never wanted to hear my name like that from him again. “Congratulations,” I said keeping a tight leash on my self-control. “I see you got the job. I’m glad all the hours were worth it.”

“Feyre, please.”

“No.” My muscles shook, but I wouldn’t give myself away - not yet. “We’re through.”

“Feyre.”

The sheets pooled at his feet as he stepped off the bed. “We’re through.” I slammed the door in his face - an eye for an eye.

I’d forgotten about Lucien, didn’t even hear him running after me until he had to physically stop me and turn me around outside my car and I shoved him roughly. He looked horrible and I didn’t care.

“Did you know?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from him. “Did you know?” I asked a second time. Lucien closed his mouth and I could see his throat clench as he swallowed his anxiety.

“Yes, Feyre. I knew.”

And it all made sense. All those weeks over summer of fighting and biting comments building between the two of them, Lucien’s warning me about Tamlin after Rhys offered me a spot on SBC, the way he and Tamlin barely seemed like friends anymore. Shit, even the night I went to Lucien’s party and he insisted on finding Tamlin himself. Was that because he’d been with her even then?

Tamlin was never obsessed with making co-editor or maybe he was, but it was only one small part of it. He’d been sleeping with her all along.

Was I to assume every late night he blew me off was so he could go and see her instead? Was every staff meeting just an excuse to cozy up to her more? Did he love her?

I decided I didn’t want to know. Lucien froze my car door as I opened it and I snapped at him, “Don’t you dare!” He stumbled back. I’d never yelled at him before. Not once.

“Feyre,” he pleaded, his voice dry. “What did you expect?”

“I expected you to tell me, Lucien! And if you think shooting him dirty glares and giving me cryptic messages about talking to him counts, you’re insane. I mean, for goodness sake, I knew you didn’t particularly care for me, but I thought we were better friends than this.”

“We were - we are. I only-”

“Don’t. Don’t even try to justify it. We’re done. I just want to go home.”

But as I drove away trying not to look at Lucien’s miserable face, I realized this was an outright lie. The further I got from Ianthe’s house, the more the picture of her naked pressed up against Tamlin burned into my mind. The more the tears came fast and hot on my cheeks, burning my eyes as they went.

I felt everything.

I felt the way Tamlin had looked at me like he knew he should be sorry, but he wasn’t.

I felt the way Lucien had startled off the couch, panicked I would discover the truth the I deserved to know.

I felt the way Nesta had thrown the horrible reality of my dad’s situation in my face.

I felt the way every bottle he drank drained me of a little more light.

I felt the way mom yelled at me to get out of her way as she closed the door - said the sight of me with dad made her sick.

I felt how truly alone I’d been for months turning away the only good company offered and clinging to all the bad.

I was in a hole hanging on to the last roots of the earth dug into the sides, dirt caking underneath my fingernails and making me feel dirty for clinging on. If I stepped down any further, there would be no climbing out. I would disappear forever and it terrified me.

The only thing that terrified me more was the idea that I wanted to disappear and never return. That epiphany of understanding just how insignificant I was in the universe threatened to crush me. As I drove, I wondered what it would be like if I took my hands off the wheel and just drifted on, let come what may.

Only important people with purpose in their lives were meant to stay, right?

Somehow, I made it to his house in one piece. I rang the doorbell and waited.

Rhys opened the door and his face shattered.

“I need help,” I said.

And then the dam inside me broke open wide and unabated.

xx

#myfic #beneath the stars #beneath the stars: a feysand fic #bts #feysand #feysand fanfiction #feyre #rhysand #acomaf #acomaf fanfiction

[phantomgender-inactive]

i havent posted a whole lot of personal stuff recently but ive had a whole bunch of shit piling up and im just really scared and uncertain and idk what to do so im gonna make a post about it on tumblr ofc

so my mental health has always been shitty but in recent times, my physical health has been following suit; the muscles in my neck and shoulders are so stiff all the time that it is affecting my ears-- my sinuses wont drain and so ive had a significant amount of sustained pain in my ears that makes me dizzy, tired, irritable, and just generally feel shitty. i already cant fucking concentrate because of my adhd and then i panic about not focusing because of my anxiety, and then i get depressed because i dont get anything done

the major thing on my mind has been college. why the fuck am i there? what am i doing with my life?? i dont even want to go into publishing anymore because even though i want to bring more queer YA fiction into the world, the industry is still shitty and so i would have to wade through all the shit to make a difference, which i dont have the mental capacity for without getting burned out almost immediately

so what can i do? my degree is just going to be a waste of my time and money and going to classes just stresses me out-- i dont feel like im learning anything useful other than how to fact-check myself, and im sick of people telling me what things i “should” care about academically and what things are “arbitrary” to my education. i feel like i’ll have more success if i teach myself basic business management skills and accounting and then learn a trade that i can take on the road

i’ve talked with my parents about it, and they’re supporting whatever decision i make, which is a blessing because the only reason i was going to college in the first place was to fulfill a promise to my dad that i would get a 4-year degree. but it’s just making me miserable, so... what do i do?? i dont exactly have time to decide, because all the time i take off puts me further behind in my classes and then i may have to end up doing a medical drop for the semester anyway depending on how long it takes them to figure out what’s wrong with me

if that’s the case, i’m not going back

but i’m so scared. i’m scared of quitting college. i’m scared for my future, and world politics certainly aren’t helping. i just want to cry and scream and the only thing in my brain anymore is fear and stress

i cant continue on like this, but i dont know what else to do

#thx 4 listen