#typing about it now because she guilted me again as im seeing my dad today

[flintbian]

My mother is heartless. On Wednesday evening she guilted me about the top three things she knows will hurt me most. She guilted me about being sick, seeing my dad, and the fact I’ll never see my cousins ever again because I am sick....

She was just (and this was said in a much worse way this is a generalization of what went down) “oh so you’re going to spend time with your dad instead of another day with your cousins? You don’t want to spend as long with them but you want to see your dad? Well you’re never going to see your cousins again” (as they are moving across the country and I can’t travel because of my illness and by the time they visit back here I may be dead so...thanks mom....you just guilted me about seeing my dad one time over break, the fact that I can’t hang out longer because I’m sick, and the fact of me being sick means I’ll never see my cousins again and I’ll die early so yeah thanks. Not like I was heartbroken over flaring right now at all and pushing myself to see them at all and not like I haven’t been worried about the other thing considering my worsening state)

I mean just...what kind of a mother guilt trips their sick child over the fact they are sick and dying before they are 30? My mother’s super power is making me feel suicidal within twelve hours of being home. To top it off my mother tried to make me apologize for being upset and therefore making her feel bad and like a terrible mother....WELL MOM

#p #suicide mention #typing about it now because she guilted me again as im seeing my dad today #like yeah im heartbroken over my cousins but do you need to rub it in my face qnd then make me feel bad about being sick #or bring up what terrible place im at medically?? #like how much do you hate your kid to make them feel guilty over their own death and never seeing family who actually love them again? #sorry i would like to see my dad mom #my cousins were fine with it but my mother lives to make me suicidal and in agony #i cant seem to stop crying so my dad is going to arrive to me sobbing

[alijaymtz]

Its been years since ive been here, it seems like this is the only place where i feel irrelevant and disconected from the real world. 

A lot has changed since I last wrote how I felt. 

I moved, began college, and live with my father. 

Ive said it before but there is no person I hate more than that man, he does things and then forgets the damage he caused but instead he knows how to guilt trip others. 

Im currently studying psychology, and through the study of it ive been able to categorize my father with borderline personality disorder. I doubt he’ll ever know nor will i ever tell him. 

I’ve learned to mask myself, my depression, my anger, my personality, when im home with him. Everything disapoints him. There are times that he forgets telling me to tell something to other people and then I am left in a negative place. “But you told me to tell them” ...”I never said that, IN MY LIFE IVE NEVER SAID THAT” ...

Its been two days since ive told him im styuduing to become a psychologist, today, while driving home from the gym, he asks me if I have some type of mental disorder in a joking way. I tell him “yeah, I am bipolar.” but according to several tests we’ve been reviewing in class. “yeah that makes sense” he says “I noticed since you left me when you were young”. 

When I was a child my father used to abuse my mother, hes done several crazy and traumatizing things, he broke her ribs, punched her, kicked her on the ground, for small things like burnt food or her complaining he returned home at 2 am. Back then my mother, who I think was brave, decided it was no longer safe to live with my dad because he began beating my older brother just as much as he beat my mom. 

She picked a bag, dumped in mostly my clothing and my brothers, and we headed straight to the police. Unfortunetly, they were unable to help us. So we went to the embasy, and they sent us to a shelter for women. Over the next few years I lived in shelter homes, foster homes, but safe. At one point I lived without my brother and mother but was happy, and safe. 

My mother was sent by court to return to Mexico, so we packed up and came with her. My dad staying behind “as the bread winner” or whatever. We lived in a small one bedroom with no beds or other furniture but we were happy... Untill my dad came. For a while he seemed content, unbothered, but a few months later he returned to his demonic state. 

He would not only hit my mother to the pulp, my brother, now he did it to me too. He began to fear we were becoming Mexican and began to teach us the muslim way. Through the dicipline in his feet, he’d kick us untill out noses bleed then a few minutes later kiss our cheeks and talk to us kindly about our mistakes. As a child, my mother spoke spanish, my father english. Now i was introduced Urdu, Arabic, and was expected to learn whole texts and prayers in minutes.

It was always like that, yell, hit, kissing cheeks. Sometimes he would break things in between. 

When i turned 17, my father had left for the first time in years to his homeland in Pakistan. He was gone for 3 months and during that time my brother, mother, and I sat almost every night planning how we could disapear because no matter what we did or how we did it, he’d always find us. 

My mother had gotten surgery while my dad was away, we spent a long time with her in the hospital. We had days were we wouldnt eat, sleep, or do anything other than sit. But we were happy.

One time, before he left,  He cut my mother with a knife ,In my room while I saw him stab her. I didnt want that to ever happen again. Another time, my father was mad my mom brought up him bringing a nehibor lady into the house while we were in school and she was working, but somehow he flipped it into “Jelousy” because there is no other reason why a wife would say something about it...He was so mad he beat my mother after her chemo. For weeks she couldnt move, she was in my room with the lights off and bearly eating because he wouldnt let us take her any food. But we could hear her moan in pain. Another time, he beat my brother into the street, the whole neiborhood came out to see. He dragged my brother into the stone floors and picked up a rock about my brothers head size. I swore I saw him die. I was pulled into a house by a lady and her daughters tried to calm me down as I couldnt breath. I prayed he was alive. 

A few hours passed and my father was looking for me, he knocked on every door. I sneaked out and returned home. 

So, the point to this is the following. When my dad returned from Pakistan, i closed the doors and made no sound. He couldnt come in. He would just leave after a while. He knew we were inside. I felt my breath becoming loud. He could hear. He left. 

For the next few days he would come and talk to my mom, who said “the kids don’t want you in” followed my “I brought gifts”. My mother who was still walking with a cane, felt pitty for her husband, who had been sleeping in a motel for days. So, she let him in “for a few hours”. Feeling the room shrink i sent a help messege to a cousin of mine whom told her mom. In a matter of minutes a car popped infront of the house with three aunts and one cousin, they demanded I go with them. 

Without looking at my brother, I saved myself. For two months I lived with my aunt and her 4 kids. I cleaned and she would tip me in order to help me pay for psychiatic help (she also paid it).  One day my mom showed up and told me she would do anything for me to return, i never asked how bad things were in those two months for them. I made a list asking her to go to therapy with me, for him to not look at me or say a word. I went back. He was calm a whole year, not one word was said to me. I didnt leave my room and I swear my skin went from olive to pale yellow skin for the time I spent in there. 

So today, he said “I noticed since you left me when you were young”...”Because a normal person wouldnt do that”. 

[buckleysjareau]

you feel like the perfect escape now

"In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness."

or

Eddie planning his proposal with the help of Hen and Karen. Featuring good ol' Buck and Chimney banter, soft and in love boyfriends, and tooth rotting fluff.

part two of three in my series ‘cause i’m not too far and you’re my favorite place on ao3

Eddie Diaz was never the type of guy to actually think about marriage. He’ll sound horrible saying it, but he didn’t really think about his marriage to Shannon. He loved her, he’s loved her since their third date when they were caught in the rain and instead of freaking out, she grabbed Eddie’s hand, dragged him out from the shelter and spun them around, head falling back in happy, care-free laughter. He loved her when she told him, with tears in her eyes, that she was pregnant. He loved her as she walked down the aisle with a grin on her face, carelessly happy. He loved her when she gave birth to their world.

But he never thought about it as it happened. When she’d told him she was pregnant, after he got over the initial excitement, his first thought was oh, we should probably get married now. Before that, it never occurred to him that he would ever marry Shannon, even though he loved her.

It was different with Buck.

Realizing he wants to marry Buck, not because he should but because it’s the only thing he can think of when he goes to sleep at night and when he wakes in the morning. He realizes the difference in the thought when it comes to planning his proposal to Buck and how he treated Shannon’s proposal.

He loved Shannon, but he was never in love with her. The thought sends an uncomfortable amount of guilt through him, but he hears Buck’s voice in his ear saying, you can’t help who you fall in love with.

Not exactly what he meant when he said it but it helped Eddie shake a lot of the guilt.

He was wholeheartedly, one-hundred percent, completely, utterly and stupidly in love with Evan Buckley.

The second it struck him how much he not just wanted, but needed to marry Buck, he couldn’t wait a second longer to start planning it. 

The first thing he has to do before he even starts planning anything, though, is ask Christopher if he would be okay with him marrying Buck. He knows his kid loved Buck more than life, but sometimes he’s scared that Chris will think that if he marries him, he’ll be replacing Shannon.

When it happens that Buck and his schedules don’t line up, he takes Christopher to lunch at his favorite place and asks. 

“Christopher, can I ask you a really important question?”

He giggles when his son looks up from his triple chocolate pancakes with whipped cream and chocolate already covering his mouth. “What is it, dad?”

“Abuela’s gonna kill me for letting you order all of this sugar.” He shakes his head as he smiles before he clears his throat. “You know how before Buck and I got together, I asked what you’d think about it?”

“I said I loved my Buck and got really excited.”

“That’s right! Well, Christopher, how would you feel if I asked your Buck to marry me?”

Chris’ smile grows immediately. “You’re gonna marry Bucky?”

“If that’s alright with you.” He smirks.

“Yes! Yes!” 

His heart soars. He was really going to ask Evan Buckley to marry him. 

After he texts Hen for her help and the twenty texts he receives of her freaking out in the language of keyboard smash, he tries to plan it. Keyword: tries.

From Hen;

Alright, alright diaz-buckley, how do you plan to do this

To Hen;

I have no clue!!! That’s why i asked for your help to research and what not. I’m not Buck, i’m not good at research or whatever

Also

*future diaz-buckley, we’re not married YET

From Hen;

boy... you’re in love in love huh

Your boy is sitting right across from me 

*photo attachment*

What’s he smiling at eddie?

To Hen;

Probably dog videos 

Now helllllppppppppppppp

From Hen;

You were right. A golden retriever looking at videos of golden retrievers

Patient, diaz! 

Got a call, we’ll talk later

To Hen;

Tell buck to be careful!

You too obviously

bu t you know what I mean 

He doesn’t know why he thought he could get anything done regarding the proposal through text. That’s how Hen and him were, they had never been able to stay on one conversation at a time when texting. There was one time when Hen had asked him for a recipe Buck wouldn’t give her, followed by a text about a playdate with Denny, and a text asking his high score in Candy Crush. He responded to say he’d ask him and send it and continued the conversation. Talk of playdates turned into talks of weirdest calls, talk of high scores in Candy Crush turned to talk of modern technology and so on. By the time Hen stopped responding, presumably because Karen got home, Eddie realized he’d never given her the recipe. 

It was different in person, they could sit for hours and talk about the same thing. He cherishes any conversation with Hen, though. He cherishes their friendship so much. Next to Buck, Hen was his best friend. 

That’s why he couldn’t think to ask anyone better to help him plan the next step in his life with the man that he loves.

From Hen;

Heads up, your boys in a sour mood 

Dont worry though because ik you are!

Im sure a nice cuddle from his soon to be fiance will do the trick

To Hen;

Why shouldnt I worry? An hour ago you sent me pic of him smiling 

Now hes in a bad mood? Something happened

Hennnnnnnnn tell me what happppppennnnnneddddd

What was the call

im bored and worried 

From Buck; 

Can I stay the night? Ill bring wine and chinese <22222

<4444

To Buck;

You okay there babe? Haha

You never have to ask 

Or bribe me with food and alcohol

But i will accept it <3

From Buck;

You know i hate texting don’t judge me!

See you in 10 love love love you <3

Eddie’s worried. Buck practically lived at the Diaz’s, he never had to ask to stay the night and he knew that. All Hen had sent back was the shrug emoji so he was on his own to figure out why.

As promised, Buck walks in ten minutes later with two bags of chinese food and a bottle of white wine. He seemed tense, but when he sees Eddie in his presence, he can automatically see his whole body relax. 

“I hate when we’re not on shift together.” Buck says in lieu of a greeting. He places the wine and food on the coffee table in front of them before he plops down next to Eddie.

He leans into Eddie’s touch, instantly lying his head on Eddie’s chest and closes his eyes.

Eddie smiles down at his boyfriend, automatically moving to run a hand through his curls, wrapping the other arm around Buck’s chest. “Me too. I missed you today. So did Chris.”

“I missed you both like crazy today. I can’t wait to just cuddle up to you and fall asleep.” He mumbles. “You’re my world.”

Even after all of this time, Buck can still make Eddie blush like it’s nothing.

He presses his lips to Buck’s forehead. “And you’re mine.” 

It stays quiet after that until Eddie’s stomach growls, startling Buck into sitting upright in laughter. 

“I think it’s time to eat, huh?” 

“You’d be right.” 

Buck gets up and gets two wine glasses from the kitchen. The way in which Buck walks so comfortably around his home will never fail to bring a kaleidoscope of butterflies to his stomach. He knows where everything is and he knows how everything works and it feels empty when he’s not there. 

Eddie turns on the TV and picks a random station that’s playing reruns of a cop show he’d seen here and there. Eddie and Buck’s legs are interlaced and resting on the coffee table, food in their laps when things settle. The ease on Buck’s face makes him wonder why he was even worried in the first place.

They don’t talk as they eat their food and sip their wine. They just take in each other’s company as they watch what’s on in front of them, perfectly content in just being together. 

Buck’s phone rings from the coffee table. When he lets it ring through to voicemail without even looking at ID, Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the one who said you should answer every phone call because it might be important? Or are you just a clone of my boyfriend?”

Buck snorts. “I know it’s not important.”

It starts to ring again and Eddie sees Maddie’s name flash on the screen. “It sounds important.”

“I promise you it’s not.” 

Then she calls a third time and Buck groans. “Fine, fine. I’ll answer.” 

He doesn’t leave the room, doesn’t make any effort to grab his phone, just sits back and pouts as Eddie hands him his phone. 

He listens to Buck’s side of the conversation closely. He’s talking about not wanting to go somewhere because he doesn’t know if someone is going to be at that place and he doesn’t want to risk it. Hm.

“I was having a nice, relaxing night with Eddie before you called about something you knew the answer to, so if you’ll excuse me, I’d love to get back to that.” He throws his phone onto his lap after he hangs up, then smiles sheepishly. “Any chance you can ignore that?”

“If you don’t want to talk about it right now, that’s perfectly okay. But we do have to talk about it eventually. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you snap at Maddie, so something must have happened.”

Buck cuddles back into Eddie’s chest, revelling in his arm comfortably wrapped around his shoulders. “It’s really not a big deal, Eds. It’s just stupid.”

“Well, lucky for you, I like hearing everything you have to say. Even if it’s stupid.” 

“Did you just boop my nose?” 

“And what about it?”

All Eddie feels is the shaking from Buck’s giggling. “Shit, whoever decided I was good enough to have you in my life is someone I’d like to meet because...man, I love you.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Eddie smirks.

Buck hides his face in the nook of his neck. “Stop making me blush.”

“Never.”

It’s quiet again after that until Buck finally talks. “So, uh…”

“Yeah?”

“I got a wedding invitation in the mail today. It’s from my cousin, she’s getting married in Los Angeles so she invited Maddie and me. We get along just fine, always have, but I haven’t talked to her in a few years and now Maddie thinks it’s completely necessary to actually go to her wedding. I just don't know if I want to risk going and have them be there as well, you know?”

“Your parents?”

“Who else?”

“Well think about it this way. If the risk of seeing your parents again was out of the equation, would you want to go?”

Buck sighs. “Of course I would. It’d be nice to see her again and have a good time, but Eds… you know how my parents are.”

It’s true, he did know how his parents were. He remembers when they’d come to Los Angeles when they found out their first grandchild had been born. He remembers how tense Buck had been the entire time, how he let his parents walk all over him and tell him how big of a failure he was like it was a normal day to day conversation. He especially remembers yelling at Buck’s father after a particularly barbaric comment on Buck’s lifestyle. 

He knows why he’d want to avoid his parents, because Eddie would too. 

“Can you bring a plus one?”

“What?”

“Can you bring a plus one to the wedding?” He smiles when Buck nods. “Take me. If your parents are there, I’ll have your back. Plus, your cousin seems nice, I’d love to meet the family that’s not pretentious.”

Buck choked on the wine he’d taken a sip of. “You think Maddie’s pretentious?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely pretentious.” He jokes. “I mean your extended family. You’ve met mine.”

Buck sighs. “Whatever. I guess we’re going to a Buckley wedding. I really did want to see McKenna so you win.”

“I always do.” He grins before he connects his lips with Buck’s and giggles against it when his fingers press against the only ticklish part of his body.

“What? Did that tickle?” Buck gasps. “You said you weren’t ticklish!”

“I’m not!” 

“Mhm.” 

Then suddenly, the wedding worries were long forgotten, tickle war long taking its place. 

“Oooooooh, so you’re going to a wedding with him, huh?” Hen wiggles her eyebrows from where she stands across her kitchen. “That’s gonna be you one day.”

Eddie sighs exasperatedly. “Not if I have nothing planned. I wanna make this special, okay?”

Hen’s face softens. “Anything you do to propose will make it special, honey. You’re Buck’s world, a simple Marry me? would be the most romantic thing in the world to him.”

“Maybe so, but that’s how it was with Shannon. She was pregnant with Christopher so I thought the next logical step would be marriage, but this is different. Buck is different.”

“Alright, alright, let’s get to work, then.” She opens her laptop. “What are some of your favorite things about him?”

Eddie’s face erupts into a look of pure adoration at that question. “Oh, Henrietta, you have no idea what you just got yourself into, asking that. What are some of my favorite things about Evan Buckley? Let’s see… When he wakes up in the morning, he makes this cute little noise when he stretches and it makes my heart fill with joy. He loves Christopher like he’s his own and he never treats him differently. He just has so much knowledge about literally anything. Random facts upon random facts are stored in that beautiful brain of his and whenever he tells me one of these random facts, it’s suddenly the most important thing in the world. He’s so selfless, you know this. When we got together and I still wasn’t sure about being open about my sexuality, he put my fears above his own fear of telling you guys. He’s an amazing cook, so amazing I have a hard time believing that before he joined the one-eighteen the only thing he could cook was ramen. Even if he could still only cook ramen, I’d still love him, we’d just be living off of frozen food. I love the little family we’ve got going on now. I can go on for hours, but I won’t. Any of that help?” 

By the time he was done, Karen was home and trying her hardest not to tease the lovesick man.

“Oh, honey, you’ve got it bad.” Karen giggles. “Buck has it just bad, though.”

Hen clears her throat. “What’s something that’s specific to you and Buck? Christopher, too. You can always propose that way. Doing something and it’ll just come completely unexpected?”

The metaphorical light bulb over Eddie’s head flashes on. “I have it!”

It’s a Friday morning at the firehouse and Eddie finds himself next to Hen, looking over her shoulder as she helps him navigate what needs to be done to propose. 

His eyes travel up to meet his boyfriend’s as he walks up the stairs, and even though his smile is bright as he sees him, there’s bags under his eyes. The second his eyes land on Chimney though, he deflates and rolls his eyes. Chimney has a smug look and Eddie knows he definitely missed something.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Buckaroo.” 

Buck looks over to Hen and Eddie, making an exaggerated face of confusion. 

“Did you guys hear something?” 

Bobby laughs from where he’s at in the kitchen, Hen snorts, and Eddie is grinning, looking between the soon to be brother in laws.

“How mature of you, Evan.” Chimney rolls his eyes. “I just wanna talk about the wedding next week and he keeps rolling his eyes and running away. Eddie, make him stop.” 

Buck scoffs. “You’re sitting here whining and you’re calling me the immature one.” 

“I wouldn’t be whining if you just talk to me for once. I just want more information, who I’m gonna meet, if your parents are coming, c’mon give me something.”

“Alright.” Buck smirks. “For good luck, Egyptian women pinch the bride before the wedding.”

Chimney groans. “What?”

“Engagement and wedding rings are worn on the fourth fingers of the left hand because it was once thought that a vein in that finger leads directly to the heart.”

“That’s beautiful, but I wanna talk about the wedding next week.” Chimney whines.

Eddie is torn between wanting to laugh and being worried about his boyfriend. It’s obvious Chim doesn’t know that this is Buck’s classic mode of deflection, and Buck seems to know this. Eddie can tell Buck is just beginning, too. 

“Seventeen tons of gold are made into wedding rings each year in the United States.”

“Maddie says you would know more about the family that’s going to the wedding, so why won’t you just tell me?”

“Ancient Greeks and Romans thought the veil protected the bride from evil spirits. Brides have worn them ever since.”

Chimney turns to Eddie and Hen, arms out in exasperation, desperate. “Eddie!”

Eddie shrugs his shoulder. “If he doesn’t wanna talk about the wedding, don’t make him talk about the wedding. I’m not gonna make my f- my boyfriend do something he doesn’t want to do.” 

Buck’s too distracted in his minds’ files of facts on weddings to tell Chimney to hear him almost slip up, but Chimney’s got his eyebrow raised and he hears Hen snicker under her breath, nice one. 

Chimney eyes him suspiciously for a moment before he goes back to the problem at hand. “Maddie doesn’t know her cousin all that well, she’s more around Buck’s age, I just want to know what I should expect because I know how the Buckley’s are. Why can’t you just tell me something, man?”

“The most expensive wedding was Sheik Rashad Bin Al Maktoum’s son’s marriage to Princess Salama in Dubai in 1981. It was forty-four million dollars.”

“What about your cousin’s wedding?”

“In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness.”

Before Chimney can ask once more, Eddie cuts in again. “He hasn’t seen anyone in his family in years, why would he know who’s going?”

“Thank you!” Buck sighs and drops next to Eddie, who shuts his laptop so fast it probably would have broken the screen. “I have plenty of more facts about weddings if you want to keep talking about the wedding, though.”

Chimney hears the message it is and sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like talking about your family. I’m just feeling a little anxious here, ya know?”

Buck sighs. “Me too, Chim. But if it helps you any, McKenna is not at all as pretentious and callous as my parents. That’s all I can and want to tell you about though, so please… Let it go.” 

Hen reaches over and places her hand on Buck’s in an attempt of comfort before her soft smile turns to a smirk. “So Buckaroo, why do you know so much about weddings?”

Eddie’s eyes go comically wide. 

“A little late night reading.” He shrugs. 

“Hm.” She turns to Eddie with a smirk when Bobby calls Buck over to help.

Eddie groans softly, resting his head on the cold wood of the dining table. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Three days later, Eddie finds himself at a jewelry shop on Wilshire with Hen and Karen.

“I feel like all of these rings look the same.” He whines. 

“You’ve looked at four rings and this store is huge.” Hen rolls her eyes. “You’ll know when you’ve found the right ring, okay?”

“Will I?”

Karen snorts. “Yes, you will. Trust me, I went through this same thing when I was proposing to Hen. You’ll just know.”

So Eddie keeps looking. He’s completely indecisive as if it’s him that’s going to be wearing the ring, because Buck definitely wouldn’t care about a fancy ring or any ring at all, but Eddie needs it to be special. 

“How about this?” Karen calls from the other end of the store. When Eddie reaches her, she’s pointing at a black band, definitely something he can automatically picture on Buck’s hand. It still didn’t feel right to him, though. He says as much to Karen before he starts searching the glass case in front of them for more. 

He gasps as soon as he sees it. Hen was right about just knowing.

He calls over the jeweler and asks to see it. The second he’s holding it in between his fingers, he can see himself getting down on one knee. He can see it on Buck’s ring finger, shining brightly to everyone Buck proudly shows it to. It’s definitely the ring.

“This is it.” He grins, looking side to side at the women standing next to him and then smiles at the jeweler. 

Karen and Hen squeal loudly. “What is it about this ring, Diaz-Buckley?” 

“In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness.”

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #soft eddie diaz #eddie diaz is in love #hen wilson #karen wilson #howie chimney han #911 fox #buddie fic #my fics

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Three, “If It Kills Me”

A story about what happens when she can’t be just his assistant anymore, and he can no longer be only her boss. Now, can they be happy with being just friends?

Read this story from the beginning here! :-) 

Inspo tag here!

*NEW* Spotify playlist in the works can be found here, songs that inspire me for the story and have significance in the story c: 

Warnings: one brief mention of vomiting, and some mild language.

                                   SNEAKY PEEEEEEEEEEEK

“And Becky’s face consumes my thoughts, much like it’s been captivating my conscience as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly. 

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger. 

I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. I miss all of it.”

Song Inspiration: If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz (click to listen)

            “It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh electricity, you know?” - Steve Harrington, Stranger Things 

The warm rays hit my cheeks as my sandals pound on the pavement. I wonder how I could ever be unhappy given the May sun shining down on me, and walking from my favorite restaurant. Without fail, the blissful idea is stolen away by a swarm of thoughts dosed in reality. And a particular one that reminds me of what I need to do, despite the dread I’ve been feeling. Not even the former respite of Asher’s hug after our shared lunch can keep them away. 

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swipe through my apps until I find the right one. Stopping in front of my gray car, I lean against the door with a huff. My thumbs hover across the screen nervously, followed by a curse under my breath. Quickly, they flit across the screen composing words in front of my eyes. Sliding into my driver seat, I stare at the screen for a moment longer before hitting send. 

I wait for the chime to come, telling me I have a new message, from him. Nervousness coats my limbs and only grows worse as the minutes tick by driving home. Waiting. But when I check my phone after walking in the door, my lock screen showing my dad and I’s smiling faces is blank. 

No new messages. 

Sliding off my black sandals, I pad through the shared living room and kitchen area before reaching my bedroom. My laptop beckons for me across the room on my desk, and I sit down before it. I hope that maybe if I don’t procrastinate this specific thing, maybe things will turn out a little better. But as I’m opening a study guide for Family Law’s final exam, I’m proven wrong. 

The chime grabs my attention immediately, making my fingers still on the keyboard. Flitting my eyes to the lavender Speck phone case, I grow antsy at wondering who the text is from. And what it says. Inhaling nervously, I pick it up and wake up the screen. The few words of a preview I see of the text cues a sour anxiousness to grow in my stomach. Bringing my knees up onto my chair, I pull them against my chest as I open the text. 

Me

Hey I’m so sorry I’ve been terrible at texting back, finals these next two weeks are getting to me. Speaking of that I realized that I have to take a final at the time we’re supposed to get lunch in a few days. I’m really sorry but can we reschedule . . . again? I was thinking in two weeks when I’m finally free from the clutches of uni????? :( 

Harry 

sorry cant love. im in edinburgh all that week for a case. lets talk about it when im back. good luck w finals xx

Sighing, I type up a short response, agreeing to that. With guilt casting a shadow over me, I return my attention to the lengthy study guide. The gross feeling in my stomach remains, and with its arrival, my excitement for our lunch date is replaced with disappointment. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks since we rescheduled it the first time, due to me messing up the dates, again. Peeking my eyes at my phone, I turn away and slump against my chair. 

It’s been a month since I saw him last, and although we’ve sent a handful of texts, they haven’t been enough for me. Skye, of course, told me that there’s nothing stopping me from showing up at his office door, but she’s wrong. I don’t know his schedule anymore, and for all I know, I’d be waiting around for him. Plus, my appearance would just yell ‘desperate!’ Sometimes, I wonder what little world Skye is tucked away into that’s far simpler, not realizing I still have to work during the day, especially more so this summer. 

But as the days drag on with chemo and radiation appointments, and lectures upon lectures, I think maybe Skye has the right idea being so optimistic. Maybe. 

+

Over the next few weeks, I see him at almost every corner I turn, and it hurts more than it should after all these weeks. The ignored texts shouldn’t feel like a fresh stab wound when I see that Scrabble box in the family room, get on that very same lift, or walk past the nurse’s station I found him leaning against that morning. Nothing compares to the piano and the pang I feel in my chest at the sight of it. It comes every time I walk through those doors and am reminded of the intimacy held on those keys. No, it didn’t get easier after the first time being back there with my dad, or the fifth time. Avoiding that gray sofa like the plague only reminded me of the texts I sent him that went unanswered. I can’t blame him though, because like a bitch, I took a week sometimes to reply to him. 

The tight feeling in my chest only feels heavier as I sit on the plaid couch in my childhood living room. I can’t even enjoy watching FRIENDS like I used to be able to, as their faces bring forth the sound of his laugh. It pains me to turn down their voices as I dig my phone out from under the cushions. I try not to let it get to me when I, once again, find no new text messages. My attempt is futile and it only causes me to take longer to open the phone app. By now, I know his number by heart, but my shaky hands cause me to mess up a few times. 

Pressing the phone to my ear, all I can hear is its ringing and the pounding of my heart. As the seconds drag on, I’m almost certain I’ll hear the voicemail next. But then I’m pleasantly surprised, although the bitterness in my stomach blossoms. 

“Hullo?” His gravelly voice pulls my lips into an instant smile. Rubbing the back of my neck anxiously, the words fall from my lips hurriedly. 

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” he responds curtly, a clattering noise heard in the background before he mutters a ‘shit.’

“I’m sorry, did I call at a bad time?” I ask quickly, regret filling my veins. 

“No, yer fine. ‘m jus’ makin’ dinna.”

“Oh um, nice. What are you cooking?” I inquire, twirling the braided silver ring on my pointer finger. Swallowing, I wait to hear his molasses drawl again, like music to my ears. 

“Jus’ a stir fry. So . . . why’d ya ring?” Harry responds, a coolness hugging his voice. 

“Um, I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” he hums awkwardly, followed by the sound of a door closing. Squeezing my eyes shut, uneasiness falls over me in a wave. Oddly, I wonder if all of a sudden I can’t call to say hi. “Ya, we’ve both been busy. Cases fer me, an’ prolly uni an’ yer dad’s treatments fer you.”

“Yeah,” I agree aloud, my chin falling to rest in my palm. But it leaves a second later to lose my fingers in my hair. “I wanted to tell you that I finished my finals last week, so now I just have clinical left in the fall. Oh, and my dad got to ring the bell today. He’s all done with chemo and radiation after his scans all looked good. It’s hard to believe that he’s cancer-free. His doctors will, of course, have to keep an eye on him in the future to make sure it doesn’t come back, but I couldn’t be happier.” 

“Tha’s wonderful, love,” Harry coos into my ear, the first notes of happiness heard in his voice. It begins to put me at ease, and cause me to think maybe something isn’t off after all. “‘m really glad t’ hear that- well both o’ those things.”

Unbeknownst to me, I find myself nodding along with his words as if I needed his confirmation. But his words stop there, and the sickening feeling that something is wrong settles back in. A small ‘yeah’ stumbles off my lips as my fingers form into a fist in my lap, debating what to say next. Or if I should ask what I’ve been wanting to say the entire time. 

“We weren’t able to get ahold of each other a few weeks ago to reschedule lunch. Would you still like to?” Going out on a limb, I let the words fly. 

I watch for them apprehensively, uncertain if they’ll take flight. The loud sound from his side, the subsequent shuffling, and a voice saying his name shoots them down hastily. 

“‘m sorry, I gotta go. ‘ll text ya ‘bout gettin’ lunch,” Harry remarks, his words stringing together swiftly. I barely have the chance to say an ‘okay’ before he abruptly hangs up, sewing together an unwanted thought for me. 

Tossing my phone to the other end of the couch, I fall back against the cushions. Turning up the volume of the telly, I avert my gaze back to the make-believe world I’ve always taken comfort in. As the phone call gnaws away at my insides, planting insecurities every few steps, I let the characters whisk me away. Even if their faces and familiar jokes will now never stop reminding me of him, and something I let go of that I didn’t know I had. I only feel worse when I realize that I knew then that he’d never send that text, and I think he knew that, too.

+

“Staring at it isn’t going to make it ring, y’know,” somebody states, pulling me from my webs of thoughts. 

Lifting my attention away from the black screen in my hand, I catch Myles looking at me impatiently. 

“Wha- ‘m sorry. I was listenin’.”

“Then what’d I just say?” he requests, the hand propped against his chin rising in a silent question. 

My lips fall apart to welcome my voice, but nothing comes out. Shrugging, he receives his answer and replies with a disapproving glare. 

“Hare, this is important stuff. We’re leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow for the case, it’s a huge one.”

“I know, My. Jus’ repeat what ya said, please,” I huff, batting a hand at him. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he leans back in his leather chair. 

“I swear to God, Harry, I-.”

“Stop,” I retort, growing annoyed. 

He plays with the point of his quiffed blonde hair before clearing his throat. Although I try to listen the second time around, my gaze is lulled back to my laptop screen. My fingers itch to touch the keys and type up words, and when Myles begrudgingly answers his ringing phone, I find my chance. Sliding my silent phone into my pocket, I click on the blue thought bubble, only to be met with disappointment. Brushing it away, my fingers fly across the keys and my words are sent with a soft hum. Soon, Myles hangs up the phone with a perturbed sigh and resumes the conversation we were having. Again, I try to return to the bubble we share and the words that occupy it, but my mind is consumed with the anticipation of that coveted ding. And with Becky’s face, much like it’s been captivating my thoughts as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly. 

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger. 

It crowds my mind when I wait for the boarding call, tapping my fingers along the screen and watching the words be sent off. I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. All of it. I miss all of it. It gnawed away at me slowly, and terribly, burying doubts beneath my defenses. They sprang up when I least expected them, and when I thought about sending just one more text. A few words wouldn’t hurt anything, I thought, but at the same time, I distrust the ultimate impact they could have. 

The pounding jars me from my reverie, bringing me to my feet slowly. Padding past the television and kitchen area, a yawn jumps from my lips. Another pound lands on the door, dragging my brow into a knot. 

“Oh, shuddup!” I exclaim in disbelief, wrapping my fingers around the smooth metal of the door. Yanking it open, I find the grinning bearded face of my mate standing on my stoop. “‘m not goin’, Rore, I already told ya this.”

“C’mon, Harry, I’ll look like a right idiot being there all alone,” Rory responds, his steps telling me he’s following me inside once I turn around. “Help a mate out here.” 

“Ya, ‘coz ya were so helpful tha otha day when I asked ya t’ consult with me fer the Starkey case.” Scoffing, his words pause between his lips as I fill a glass of water from the attachment on the fridge. “Why’re ya goin’ anyways, since it sounds like sumthin’ yer dreadin’? And since when d’ya even go t’ these sorta things? Last place I thought ‘d see you at, Rore.”

“I don’t, but it’s for me sister’s showing. I can’t miss it, she’s me baby sister. I’d hear about it from me mum for weeks.”

Snorting, I have to pull the glass of water away from my lips. 

“Hope ya bloody choke on that water, mate,” Rory scoffs, only making me laugh harder. Water flies from my lips as I’ve forgotten the glass on the marbled countertop. “Are ya coming or not, Harry? Ya know it’s a good place to pick up chicks, too. They blooming love these art gallery places.”

Recovering from my fit of giggles, I turn my head to find Rory waiting with the question in his eyes. He huffs and riffles a hand through his tousled blonde hair a few shades lighter than that which covers his face. Shaking his head, he wiggles his head at me. 

“I’ll consult with you on the next case, or even give ya first pick,” he whines, folding his hands together under his chin, as if he’s praying. 

“‘m yer bloody boss, I always get first picks,” I murmur, a smile cracking at the end of my words. 

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” he spits, pushing at a chair in front of the seated bar attached to the kitchen island. Clucking his tongue, he messes with the collar of his navy blue blazer thrown over a bloody Zeppelin shirt. Yeah, you sure look artsy there, Rore. But with the next words that fly from his sailor’s mouth, he pins me down. “What’re ya gonna do here anyways, sit and watch the bleeding telly all in your lonesome when ya could be with me getting damn a date?”

Biting my lip, my house slippers come into my view and when Rory’s eyes find them, a laugh explodes from his lips. “Go hurry up and bloody change before you’re too far gone, mate. I’ll be in the car,” he titters before his voice falls with a delighted sigh. Delight found in my pain. 

“Two cases, Rore. Any two cases I want, ya consult with me on. Ya got it?” I argue, following on his footsteps. 

“Whatever makes ya feel better, mate. I know you'll be thanking me later tonight.” 

“Doubt it,” I mutter, watching him open the door, sure there’s a sly grin covering his face. 

I turn to jog up the stairs until I arrive in my bedroom. Quickly, I toss on skinny jeans, a Keith Haring shirt, and a mustard button up smattered with faded white flowers. I look rather artsy, I reckon, I decide as I look at myself in my bathroom mirror. It’s an easy feat when you’re standing next to wannabe Rory over there, though. After taming my hair and finding a pair of shoes, I pad down the stairs. 

“Alexa, turn off all o’ my lights,” I announce, slipping my wallet and phone into my pocket as my hous darkens around me. 

“Take fucking long enough?” Rory groans when I slide into the passenger seat of his silver Sentra. 

“Shuddup and drive, will you? So we can get this ova with.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass tonight, then just go back inside,” he almost laughs, beginning to back away from the towering walls of my house. 

“Talking ‘bout yerself, are ya now?” I quip, bringing my phone from my tight pockets, tapping in my passcode. 

“I’ve noticed, y’know,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear him. Looking up from the bright screen, his eyes don’t stray from the road. “There’s a girl, isn’t there? Or there was?” he continues, a man I’ve come to love over the last three years he’s worked with me. And somehow I thought I had fooled him, but it turns out, I haven’t. I can’t even fool myself.

“Sumthin’ like that,” I whisper, my attention straying back to the conversation lit on my screen. Another day of the ball being in her court, and she just leaves it in the bloody corner, neglecting it. “I see why ya wanted me t’ come now . . . jus’ don’ try t’ set me up with yer bloody sista. She’s like twenty.”

His hearty chuckle fills the space around us, the words of a song from Death Cab for Cutie lurking in the background. “I won’t, but y’know she’s not gonna let ya out of her sight, mate. She’s had the hots for you from day one.”

“Oh God, Rore, what’d I let ya drag me into here?” I joke, my lips curling into a nervous smile. But the smile feels good, and it feels even better when her name disappears from my screen, and I forget my phone in my pocket. 

+

“What happened to making me dinner?” I whine from the couch, crossing my left leg over the other under the comfort of my blanket. 

“That was when you were busy, and well, the other day when I was feeling generous. Not today, missy,” Skye scoffs, the sound of the fridge shutting marking her words. Something lands in my lap with a plop, startling me. 

“Wow, how gourmet. Why thank you, I definitely don’t need to make dinner now,” I joke, picking up the wrapped piece of string cheese. 

“I know you’re still going to eat it. Just eat cereal or something, you hobo. I’m going to bed at a decent time, unlike somebody.”

“Hey, it’s a Friday!” I argue, pressing the page down button on the remote, waiting for something to catch my eye on Netflix. 

“Yeah, and some of us still have a job on Saturdays!” she calls from her journey down the hall. 

“Party pooper!” 

She remains silent on the defensive line, and so does the list of boring content on the television screen. Relenting, I click over to My Stuff and press play on the next episode of FRIENDS. Relaxing into the cushions, I unwrap the cheese and slowly eat it in strings. Giggles flow from my lips watching the scene unravel in front of me, and some eye-rolls because of Ross or Monica. After a while, my legs stray to the fridge, and I return to the tan sectional with a bowl of Cheerios. The milk threatens to spill over the side when I sit up suddenly, almost yelping in laughter at the scene when Monica and Rachel lose their apartment to Chandler and Joey. The sugary Cheerios soon disappear, and the milk follows them as the episode nears the end. 

Placing my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, I hurry back to the sofa to catch a Phoebe scene. My cheeks warm with a smile, but they soon grow cold when my thoughts have to interrupt with a memory of his face. That god awfully sweet smile adorned with his cherry lips and precious dimples. Without knowing what I’m doing, the cartoon looking app appears under my nose, and pictures fill my feed. I take a second look at a few of them that catch my attention, the angry voices of Rachel and Monica tickling at my ears. 

Soon, the search bar materializes and although it feels wrong, I type in letter after letter to create his name. I can’t remember the last time I glanced at his profile, just to catch a hint of him. Finding the profile I’ve become familiar with, I tap on his picture and wait for his profile to load. Glancing away, the tv captures my attention once more as I scratch at an itch on my leg. Yawning, I rub at my eye before it falls back to the blindingly bright screen. Blinking hard to clear the haze from my vision, I scroll down to see what new pictures he’s posted, although they’re usually few and far between. 

I find the most recent picture I recognize and tap through them. Picturesque shots from high in the clouds. His unbelievably adorable niece. Food-grams. A picture of a homemade pizza is making my mouth water and is still stuck in my mind when I happen upon the next photo, and the most recent one. The moisture in my mouth is wicked away, suddenly bone dry when the image in front of my eyes slowly registers with me. But I can’t believe it, even though I’m seeing it. I don’t want to see it, or believe it. The moisture reappears in the corners of my eyes quickly as a sourness quickly knits together in my gut. The image shakes in my hands and then blurs in my eyes, accented by the thrashing of my heart inside of my chest. 

“Skye!” I shout, the words leaping from my lips with little success. 

My lip wobbles and I feel my entire face collapse from pain, disbelief, the whole shebang. The sob screaming from my lips is muffled by my fingers coming to my mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” I mutter, inhaling fast and feeling the tears in my throat. Because I can feel it everywhere in my body - the pain. In my eyes, my stomach, my hands, and my chest. The sight of Harry’s lips touching that of another girl’s sends knives into my heart, and my stomach roiling. “T-this can’t . . . ,” but my words escape me, because the multitudes of feelings punished with anguish and despair course through me. 

“Skye!” I yell again, not realizing that I’ve gotten to my feet. I stumble at first, feeling the weakness reach my legs. Her name leaves my lips wet with tears as I run past the kitchen and down the hall. 

Pushing open her door, darkness meets my eyes, and I swear in that moment it swallowed me. Hitting me, I grab the doorframe and feel my forehead fall against it. Leaning there for support, the sobs roll through me, the very reason still clutched in my hand. 

“Whaaaaat?” she groans tiredly from her bed across the room. 

But I only reply with a sob of her name, hiccups havocking my chest. My hands claw at the wall, darkness coating my eyelids. 

“Ree?” Skye asks groggily, the click of her lamp following her words. “What happened? Are you alright?” she hurries, the pillowy patting of her covers being thrown back meeting my ears. 

Her arms wrapping around me are almost numbing, and do nothing. And feel like nothing. But when I feel my head meet her chest, the slowed-down world I lived in for those few seconds vanishes. 

“Skye, I-. . . ,” I attempt, once again falling up short as tears suffocate my voice, much like they’re making me feel. Shakily, I press my phone into her hand as I try to find safety in her arms. 

I wait and then am rewarded with her intake of breath followed by a sigh. “Holy fuck,” she whispers, and retaliates by pulling me closer against her. “Come here, Ree.”

She walks me over to her bed and helps me under the covers until I’m surrounded by them, and her arms. 

“Who i-is she?” I demand sloppily, searching for something to hold onto and to anchor myself with. I’m compensated with the smooth fabric of her shirt that I cling to the back of, my head falling into her hair. The mundane scent of strawberries wafting from her body tries to relax me, but to no avail. 

“Ree-,” she begins, but I don’t let her start, let alone finish. 

“I want to kn- I need to know,” I respond, sniffling against the warm expanse of her neck. There’s shuffling next to me before she sighs, and I sense the light of my phone. Tapping prods at my hearing as I try to form coherent thoughts. 

I’m met with images of him. Harry. His dark curls, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the high-pitched giggle that accompanied my tickling as well as his own. The intruding memories rack my body with shaking sobs, pressing my lips together as new tears gush over them. My belly contracts with each sob, and I don’t even register the cramping in my hands from holding on so tightly. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Skye hums warily from above, pulling my head into her neck, leaving her arm there to shield me from her words. Or the image that I can’t remove from my mind even if I tried. It’s burned there indefinitely now. 

His arms in a blue button-up surrounding her and his lips enveloping hers. A smile creasing his cheeks with happiness, and spreading to those of her dark cheeks. Her curvy body pressed against his, flowing ebony curls tickling her chocolate skin. 

“Tell me.”

“Okay,” Skye caves, the tips of her fingers running marathons along my back, in attempts to calm me down. But I don’t know if the tried and true will work this time, although it has for every other, even when my dad’s life was painted with the C-Word. “She’s a London based artist, does some sculpting and gallery work locally. According to her Instagram account, anyways.”

“I asked . . who is she?” I repeat, my voice wavering under the dominance of the tears. 

“Her name’s Bailee Taylor.”

“W-what does her page look . . . like?” I request, exhaustion blanketing me, and only adding another feeling to the rest. Blinking away the tears, I try to take in a deep breath, but my memories hit me with the safety I felt in his arms. Unwaveringly. 

“It looks like they’re . . dating,” Skye announces quietly, squeezing me around the middle. The confirmation I didn’t know I’d been searching for hits me like a train, knocking the air out of me again. And all of a sudden, hatred pulses through me, asking me where to lay it. Where to feel it. “There’s a few pictures of them on her feed, looks like they met maybe a few weeks ago.” 

“Why?” jumps from my lips finally, taking a nosedive to join a sea of unanswered questions. The word shakes the second it leapt from my tongue, and somehow it hurts more than all of the rest. “I h-hate him,” I cry, my nose smushing against her skin when I try to hold onto her tighter than I already am. 

“No, you don’t,” she coos, raking her fingers through my hair slowly, and carefully. 

“I know, b-but I wish I could,” I answer, the memories dancing through my head at hyper speed. Falling asleep in his arms, and waking up in them. The tickling fight. The almost kiss. The Scrabble game. Waking up to find him waiting there in the doorway. Him coming back even after the way I treated him. Finding him standing there at the front of the lecture hall. The reprieve of being in his arms again after so long spent away from them. And then, like a wall, my mind runs into the strings of unanswered texts. The canceled lunch dates. The both of us ignoring the other’s texts, but then at the end, it was him. It was him who was awkward during the last phone call. He hung up on me abruptly, and I heard somebody else was there. Was it her? It’s possible they would have already been together by then. He said he’d text me to set up lunch, and he never did. 

“It won’t make you feel better,” she murmurs, cupping my head with her palm. The sound of tears edging at her words only makes mine come harder, and the feeling in my gut grows louder. 

“Then what will?” I beg, wondering if I’ll ever forget the taste of the salty tears. A taste I thought I could forget just late last month when my dad was cured. News that I told him, and had been impatiently waiting to do all day. “I thought I was just feeling okay again, Skye.”

“I know, Ree, I’m so sorry,” she returns, placing her cheek against mine, the first tear peeking through in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

I unpeel myself from her anxiously, kicking away the blankets before my feet land on the floor. 

“Where are you going?” she almost demands, the sound of her following me far away. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” I confess, rushing down the hall before falling to my knees in front of the toilet. The Cheerios and milk from earlier make a reappearance, along with the string cheese, and mushy contents of my other meals. 

Running a cold cloth along my face, Skye kneels in front of me, her face painted in sadness.

“How can it hurt so much, Skye, when he wasn’t even mine?” I croak, focusing on the lone tile in our bathroom that doesn’t match the rest of the flooring. 

“I think you’re wrong, he was yours, Ree.”

“I was so close. I fucked up, again,” I weep, my lips collapsing with yet another sob. 

“Don’t say that, don’t,” she insists, tucking her hair behind her studded ear when it goes every which way with the shaking of her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is. She’s so pretty . . Of course she is,” I remember aloud, breathing in quickly before the tears take hold of me once more. Closing my eyes, I reach out for her and let my head rest against her shoulder. 

“She really isn’t, Ree. A big pair of tits doesn’t make you pretty, and anyways, you’re far prettier. He could do much better, like you.”

“You’re just saying that,” I confess, trying to swallow, but my throat has tied itself into knots with the thoughts of him. And when that word falls out of bed inside of my head, I find that it can hurt worse. “I was his Becks, Skye, I thought it was right there. That it was gonna happen for us.”

“Oh, Ree,” she cries, sniffling against my hair when she pulls me against her. “I know, I’m so sorry . . so sorry.”

Nodding into her chest, it feels right as her necklace digs into my wet cheek. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and so does every other part of my body in some way. Somehow I let her bring me back to her bed, and hide me away in her arms. My head swims with questions, then fleeting hatred for him, and inconsolable longing the very next. I shed a tear for his smell, his contagious smile, that Scrabble game we’ll never finish, the churros I’ll never be able to eat again without him ruining them for me, the color of his eyes I could never forget, and the lost feeling of his lips I never got to kiss. The list miles long of things I never got to say to him, or do with him, or make him feel. Because now she does, and she isn’t me. 

“I-I thought . . that he felt the same way about me, and that somehow he knew that I loved him.” 

A whimper escapes Skye’s lips as my tears fall into her neck, adding to the puddle I’ve shed there. 

“What does she have that I don’t? Am I not interesting? Does she have a nicer body than I do? Am I not pretty enough? Was I not nice enough or appreciative of him?” I weep, the questions flowing off my lips from the recesses of my mind. My name greets my ears firmly, but I ignore it. “I was trying to answer his texts when I could, but things got so busy with uni and my dad. All the driving, the tests in both places, and I couldn’t keep dates right in my head. Maybe if I’d texted him back sooner that one time, or made the lunch date on the right day the first time-.”

“Becky, don’t do the ‘ifs’ thing,” Skye urges, pulling the covers further up our shoulders before returning to combing my hair back again and again. 

“But I can’t stop thinking about what went wrong, a-and how much I miss him, Skye. I miss him a hundred times more after seeing that picture,” I reveal, falling into her, my lips meeting her shoulder. My teeth dig into my skin and I let them, numb to the pain as the same word is too busy with my mind. “I don’t know if I ever wanna see him again.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to, I’ll always want to. Like something inside of me will always want him.” 

+

The sunlight streaming in through the windows is the first thing I see when I awake. Ducking my head back under the covers, I pull them over me with a groan. The blissful ignorance of the first few minutes after waking up follows me, until it all comes crashing back. 

“Are you awake?” a voice murmurs, sleep clinging to it. 

“Unfortunately,” I whisper, staring into the muted light underneath the gray covers. 

“I can stay home if you want me to, I was just making some breakfast,” Skye responds, the tapping of her feet along the floor following. 

“No, don’t cancel your hair appointments because of me. I’ll be . . I’ll be fine,” I tell her, but then the tears greet me good morning. 

“Oh, Ree, I’ll cancel and we can watch movies all day, or FRIENDS. Whatever you want,” she announces. The bed falls to one side when she sits on the edge, and I feel her hand find my back. 

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d say that,” I return, turning around and sitting up to dive into her arms. “I was hoping I had dreamt it all and it was just a bad dream. But my life is the bad dream.”

“Oh, Ree,” she coos, surrounding me with her arms. “I know this is cliche and it doesn’t feel like it, but it’ll get better.”

“I don’t know about that. My life is a running joke lately because it feels like it’ll get better, and then it just gets worse.”

+

“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it, Becky?” somebody asks. Looking up from my cupcake, I find the face of Sophie. 

“Yeah, end of next week,” I answer, picking an orange sprinkle from the white frosting to eat.

“Do you have any big plans?” my boss asks as she places her lunch in the microwave. 

“My brother and I hang out every year, we’re twins.”

“Oh, how fun! I remember meeting him once when he brought you lunch one day,” she smiles, turning to face me as she waits in front of the humming microwave. 

I just nod and dip my finger into the frosting, feeling it melt on my tongue a second later. 

“Everything alright, love?”

“Yep, just tired is all,” I fib, taking a bite of the carrot cupcake, although I’m not wrong when I think about it. Skye has been a lifesaver for the last two weeks helping me get back on my feet. Thinking back on it and all of the tears leaves a funny taste in my mouth, but I try to brush it away with a forced smile. 

“How old will you be this year, Becky?” Sophie asks, pulling out a rolling chair to sit to my right at the long table. 

“Good old 26.”

“Wow, still a spring chicken, I’d say,” she comments, bringing a quirky smile to my lips. I almost follow her laugh with mine. “Well you know what, an early birthday present from me is you can have the rest of the day off. You always do a great job, Becky, and so you deserve it.”

“Sophie, I-,” I begin, my jaw falling to the floor. 

“I mean it, go. Get out of here. Go do something that makes you happy, love, it looks like you need to,” she smiles, squeezing my arm from across the table. Standing to my feet, profuse ‘thank yous’ leave my lips before I leave the break room. 

I drive around with my windows down, unsure of where to go instead of home. Before I know it, I find myself walking into my favorite little coffee shop. I’ve always loved to hang out here with a cup, reading a book, doing homework, or just relaxing on one of their sofas. 

Soon, I sit down with a Cubano sandwich and an iced cinnamon roll coffee, my very favorite. Pulling a book out of my work bag, I crack it open to the first page, unable to remember when I last had the time to read a book for fun. The words of Ruth Ware stare back at me, slowly drawing me into a made-up world, and away from the desolate one trying to swallow me. 

Quickly, I’m grateful for the respite from the thoughts mucking up my mind. Instead I lose myself in the sentences that spin a scary story, thanking my old self for stashing something besides a romance in my bag. That’s the last thing I could even think about indulging in right now. For some reason, the mystery entices me, a genre I’ve always had a love for. I think, especially now, it’s the aspect of being able to solve a mystery, and to fix a problem. If only I could do that now, I wish silently with a spiteful snort. 

Placing my empty plate on the return area by the cash register, I return to my cozy spot on the couch and to my book. Losing my fingers in my hair, I prop my head up and open the book to where I had left off. Soft indie music trickles from the speakers as conversations float around me. Several more sofas are dotted around the large room and booths, as well as tables varying in sizes. Friends play board games borrowed from the shelf by the fireplace, and others do schoolwork or actual work. A laugh from behind the counter echos through the room, right as the bell on the front door jingles. Although across the room, I can hear the voices floating in from the sidewalk. Cars honking and birds chirping. The sounds make me itch to leave the air-conditioned room, and bring my reading outside into the June sunshine. 

The words covering the pages root me to the spot, but they can’t protect me from what I hear. It’s a voice that I know inside and out, from the shortened words to the often used words. My vocal cords soon begin to tangle into knots in my throat at the mere noise. Beneath my baby blue blouse, there’s a clobbering in my chest as the voice grows near and then stops. Instinctively, hair falls through my fingers as I lower my head, wishing to remain unseen. Unknown. 

I can’t stop myself, and there I am looking up to see that crinkly-eyed smile through wrenching tears. 

Harry. 

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles wattpad #lawyer harry #ceo harry #boss harry #personal assistant #fanfiction #fanfic #wattpad #one direction fanfiction #harry styles imagine #one direction imagine #chaptered fic #chaptered story #writing #pa harry #the assistant #narrymccartney writes

[sweetandsavageautistic]

Who’s ready to lose more braincells thanks to Twitter? (CW: Pedophilia mention)

"I'm Alive Because of YOU!"

The Innocence of an adult with autism and his BFF Lost & Found EMMY ;)

Love You, Love You My Boo Bear  

Mommyand (aka) #SMAARTMom

Meet My son Dustin & My Inspiration for Creating the Autism Welcomed Decal Symbol

Oh, decedents of men she loved/trusted... what a great idea!

To me, there's just something about what the innocence of a child would bring to that kind of a role. Or even a high functioning teen or adult with autism...

#WritingCommunity

Lauren, as a mother of an angel with disabilities, I would like articles about parents and adults with #Autism who share success stories. What makes a positive outcome?

Son went out with his grandad today amazing how are kids adults with #autism behave like angels for there grandparents lol.

As the parent of an adult child with autism I always tell young parents to never underestimate their child Our children CAN They are true angels sent to us by God

I worked as a parapro for three years and have seen people on every part of the spectrum- the way he spoke and carried himself should NOT influence anyone’s decision on their theory of his guilt or innocence. His demeanor is very typical of someone with high-functioning autism.

One thing I know about people with Aspergers is, they dont lie, they are often shy at 1st, but once they know you, they arent the type you ask "does my butt look big in this" coz they'll tell you outright that if does with such innocence & charm.

The innocence of people with autism is truly incomparable, it's their raw emotion that's sets them apart from the rest of the world.

@realDonaldTrump

hope you can meet Ganesh. #helpganeshmeettrump

Brother godbless ur boy.His curiosity is apparent and his calmness is heartwarming to see he realizes this isn’t going to hurt us.Autism holds a special place in my heart for my niece is also Autistic and any child,I see an innocence about them that makes me smile.Good job dad

You’re not alone , we autism moms are in this together and know exactly the heartbreak you are feeling

give it time and a lot of therapy Jenny, things will get better !! Just remember that his innocence is soo pure that he’s an angel here on earth for you

Not just autism but any diagnosis/disability. My saying is "do not look at my child w/ different eyes when u see him do something that's considered out of d norm" & also "don't break away his spirit because he can still see the Innocence in life better than you" -Margarita Rubio

Same here brother. My youngest son is autistic and I cant imagine how anyone..especially a "father" could do something like this My son has random seizures and everyone of them rips my heart out Autistic children have more heart & love than anyone on earth Innocence of autism

The ABC series "Love on the Spectrum" was / is a beautiful uplifting and inspiring work. The wonderful openness, hopefulness and general innocence of the autistic folk is a lesson for everyone. Love for everyone has challenges. I hope people don't use autism to express contempt

I love being around people with Autism. They radiate pure energy and innocence.

My son has autism and he is just beautiful in his innocence, thank you very much!!! He does not have black coal for a heart and not beholden to Satan

When Quamaine helped me with the snow shoveling. He was happy to help. I adore him and his innocence. I hope he knows that. #adultwithautism #autism #adultoconaitismo #autismo #quamaine #autismaunt #snow

Mothers of children with autism know their kids intimately because they cannot leave them with anyone. They protect their kids fiercely, because they are vulnerable due to their innocence

Sarah's effective portrayal of an autistic role clearly depicted the charm, candidness, innocence and frolicsome attitude of people with autism.

Autism. A neurological condition where purity and innocence collide to form an abstract masterpiece.

THE REAL CHAMPIONS IN THIS WORLD ARE CHILDREN LIKE KAYLENE. WITH AUTISM  SPECIAL NEEDS & CHILDREN FIGHTING CANCER SO MUCH MORE LOOK AT HER SMILE SO INNOCENT

The people with autism can understand a lot of things very clearly. Autistic children tend not trust adult humans becoz for them they are constantly in movement which doesn’t allow things to sync with them. BTW they are fantastic human beings with a child like pure heart.

People with autism are the most perfect human beings on the planet to me bc they don’t bother a soul or hurt anybody an is purely innocent 💯‼️❤️

I have a soft spot for people with Autism.  We aren’t worthy of their creativity, intelligence and innocence

I love being around people with Autism. They radiate pure energy and innocence.

Thank you

God bless you too!

I believe people with autism are special gifts and their purity cannt be denied]

I’ve been the happiest in my life being around people with autism. If you don’t have a friend, brother, or neighbor like them you truly haven’t experience the purity in life.

People with down syndrome, autism, etc, arent capable of hate, malice, greed, intolerance, etc. They exhibit all the things that those of us "normal" people try to be but cant. They're not equipped to be evil. They can only show purity.

I dont know, that's my take on it.

By living with people with autism, we are be able to regain the purity

True, but at the same time these aren't necessarily different things: pedophilia, anti-pedophilia & dumb-girl-philia can stem from one & the same mental trait, i.e. the idealization of childlike Innocence; which in turn is arguably a form of autism: other people can't have minds.

#Undateables #TheUndateables I adore this show. The pure honesty love and kindness of these beautiful souls blows me away

. Their innocence and hopeful view of this world is something that could teach many. Appreciate what you have

#autism #specialneeds #learningdisability

Which film? I love the innocence of kids. Every day my kids say it as it is and their attitude keeps me so grounded. We could all learn a lot from autism x

This sickens me 2 the core.Trump started this he is to blame. We are one let us not forget this. We need 2 learn again from our young who see no difference. My son with autism never sees any difference. Such innocence. The world will not change him .He listens to me I accept all

My son who has been diagnosed with #autism loves painting.He is lifting my spirits with his joy 4 his work he has done.Some he started this week & finished. R #Hamilton #Ticat #Football colors. Love the innocence its so grounding 4 me. Blessings 4 all you are doing

Pope john paul the second said children with autism were closer to god than any other. They have a innocence about them.  We should take notice and learn from there how love and live

And now, some tweets from people who think Greta Thunberg is being exploited just because she's so passionate about stopping climate change:

If This Little Girl GRETA really has AUTISM How Terrible Easy For Adults To Manipulat Her IT IS A PARENTS JOB TO PROTECT THE INNOCENCE OF OUR CHILDREN IM SO ASHAMED AND SO SHOULD THE CLIMATE CHANGE COMMUNITY GOD FORGIVE HER PARENTS. THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THE DO

Democrats like John Kerry are using an innocent little girl with autism to feign innocence while the Democrats just voted to spend 738 billion dollars on environmental destruction. How ridiculous.

That's a good argument? Because it's what SHE *wants* to do? She is a child who does not yet fully grasp the perils of public life or climatology. She's also a child diagnosed on the autism spectrum. She deserves privacy and protection of her innocence. It will end poorly.

I've started to suspect she was selected for this job because of her autism. She can play innocence whenever someone publicly calls her out for the childish nonsense that comes out of her.

Greta is a 16-yr-old kid with autism who is being used by her parents & the crazy adults around her as a political pawn. She's not a savior. She's a kid who is having her innocence and anonymity stripped from her by a**holes pushing their stupid climate change crap.

I think she is being used. The fact that she has an Autism Spectrum Condition should be respected. She is very articulate and very focused partly because she is Greta and partly because she is autistic, but she also has the innocence of a teenager and someone with an ASD.

#climate change is real karen #autism innocence bullshit #autism #autistic #actuallyautistic #actually autistic #sweet and savage autistic

[hitchell-mope]

Just put on the movie

And there we go. The dedication is there.

Oh god the rapping.

My palms will be bloody by the time this is over.

But I like the parallels to the first movie

To much auto tune

There goes my heart Disney.

Oh lord that’s high

Bbys. Smee twins

WHY WASNT DIZZY THERE FROM FILM TWO

There’s my child Celia

MY BOY!!!!

I mean Mal has a point.

He thinks it through

I love him so fucking much

Loving Doug’s hair

Rat bastard. Rat bitch. Rat fairy (Adam belle Verna)

Fuck off leah chad Audrey

😍😍😍😍. This version is better then d1

SUCK IT PASTEL COW

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Oh Evie love. Just tell him you love him

FUCK OFF YOU GERIATRIC BITCH

YES WE WOULD PREFER MAL TO YOU YA BITCH

I hate you Adam and belle

Ben and the other three are adorable family

Still hating Audrey. So. Fucking. Much

Love the purple limo

WHY IS TREMAINE NICE. IT MAKES NO SENSE

Bal parent vibes are strong

They shoulda painted the limo roof purple

Dying of cuteness

Proud fiancé Mal. Love it

Fuck off leah

Here’s papa hades. And the ham.

DRAGON MAL. WHOO HOO

Ah well. Nice while it lasted

NOT HER JOB PASTEL COW

So. Much. Ham.

Poor girl. Ouch.

🤮🤮🤮🤮. I still hate her and her geriatric bitch of a grandmother

Oh bitch please. First words out of your mouth were creel. And it ain’t abated

I’m supposed to be sorry for this sad act? I don’t think so

So. Much. Rapping

Oh. SPARE ME WOMAN

Still theft. Throw her on the isle with her grandmother

Lonely and friendless. Because Mal is so much better then you ya limp noodle

Gotta be bad on the back

YOU DESERVE A SLAP AROUND THE FACE YOU SPOILED BRAT

Seriously though. The actual singing is better then the rapping. So gotta give satah her dues

Fuck off grown ups.

YOU PUT THEN THERE IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACD

Blue bitch. Just like always belle

Ok. People. You can see it’s hurting bal to do this. KILL THE BEAST

DONT CRY BABY BOY. PLEASE. LAST TIME ALMOST KILLED ME

Murder. The fucking. Parents

Evie. Evie’s sensible. Listen to your sister Mal.

And here comes the guilt. Like always. The narrative blames Mal

That darn cake

Ah. Pain. Hug them now

And jump scare

Oh god. Shut up Audrey. You’re a sore loser

Eh. The prosthesis look ok

Audrey. Nutter. Ben was more then ready to start the honeymoon when Mal was a dragon. Do you really think a hag would stop him?

😂😂😂😂

Oh boy

That’s a lie and you know it bluey.

At least the bikes have an explanation

Why the red for Evie though

And the mutt speaks

Fuck off Chad. I hate you so much

This bitch again

So shrieky.

Kiss ass

Real original

Jump Jane jump!

So many neck cricks

No one tells him anything

Cella’s right Mal

Overly long gag. But cute

Awww 🥰🥰🥰🥰. At least he’s a good dad

Nice reference

And the fear mongering begins.

And here’s the cryptid. He shoulda died in it’s going down

Psycho bitch pirate whore

Cella’s a troll and I love it

The vehicle needs an oil change

At least he’s sleeping. Though that position can not be comfortable

At long last the reveal.

He’s funny. And hot. (I can see where @mochacake2016 is coming from)

We know! We know

And here’s the music

😂😂😂😂.

He’s got a point

Ok.

THERES NO PHONES ON THE ISLAND QUEEN MAL

She actually sounds like jade west here

So far. Besides the proposal. This is my favourite song. Mostly for Hades great looks. Great voice

And the tambourine

Would be better with purple and blue fire effects. But no. We can’t have nice things. They spent the budget on pirate whores make up

She’s got a point. They both do

LISTEN TO HIM

Proud papa

C’mon girl. Cry

Of course she told her sister

He’s a good king.

T-shirt should be ripped.

🤮🤮🤮🤮. Hate her so much

And. Here. We. Go.

Benny. I love you. But did you not hear what she said to Evie when you first met the vks. Of course not. You were lost in Mal’s eyes.

Oh god. PLEASE SOMEBODY GO AND MELT HER

Whore man is probably skunk drunk. Gil’s cute as ever though

Throw hook in the water. And keep it there.

🎶she’s back🎶

And there screwed

He makes feel physically sick

Uma. I love ya. But honestly. Mal owes no one anything. It’s not her job.

No it ain’t

Jay’s got a point

Oh honey

Hook. In the words of the irreverent Captain Jack Sparrow “if the bikes be crashed properly. You be crashed along with it”. Not you Gil. I like you

Mother hen strikes again. Uma ain’t buying what she’s selling

Pure child Celia. (I don’t use this very much but) Gil’s babey (it feels wrong to type£

Chicken arms. No brains. No wit. No dance skills. No rapping skills. Ya basically a walking corpse hook

The dogs giving me a nervous twitch.

I hate the pair of them so no. No sympathy for prince douche bag

Gil makes me cry so simply

Stab the pirate jay. Please. For all of us

Psycho bitch

I want. It. Dead. Brutally. Dead

And more music. If this weren’t Disney they coulda melted them yo pukes of goo and pour it down Harry’s throat.

Oh god

So she can’t count either. Just like her brother

Definitely cha cha slide.

Deep sigh

So much ham.

Here’s a funny idea. How about instead of a bloody pantomime. ACTUALLY FUCKING FIGHT YOU FECKERS

Synchronised armour dancing. That’s new

Oh for fuck sake

Ha ha. Save it for the sob story bitch

What’s next a kick line

Thank god I was wrong.

Hook should be suffocated under the armour right now. Put us out of our misery

Care bear alert

I had to have a flu jab today. And it weren’t as painful as every single nanosecond hooks on screen

Love the platonic affection (I hate the very concept of malvie. What did you expect?)

Mother alert

Don’t eat wild fruit honey

So cute. But so dumb

Oh. Phineas and Ferb reference

Awww babies.

Don’t you dare tell me Mal doesn’t care.

THEY FOUND DOUG

Uma’s so done with care bear bs

More singing. Yay(!)

Please. Remind me again exactly why this is a DCOM. Cause it honestly does not feel like it what with the backstory pirate whores entire existence and the choreography

How has evie not broken a leg in this number.

Believe me Mal and Uma. I feel your frustration they go together like peanut butter and chocolate spread. (Perfectly if you didn’t know)

Where is she going?

She knows how R&J ended right? Double suicide. Why the romanticism huh?

HE IS NOT A RAG DOLL! Though props to Zachary for not corpsing

How can you hate Doug. He’s adorable. Best straight couple ever

There’s ma boy. Rip Harry’s throyatvout plwae.

Ben’s always been hot. But this is definitely working for me.

Awww. Carlos helping his papa

Wet Ben. Yum

Awww. Janelos cuteness.

Love the beard. So good. 🤤🤤🤤🤤

Someone murder the man whore before I do.

He makes me wanna throw up. And I’m not physically capable of doing that

@rpsocsandcanonohmy. I get where you’re coming from. But I also get where Ben is coming from. Sunbeam did get him abducted. And man slut tried to feed him to sharks. So I do understand both points. Doesn’t mean you’re wrong though

JUST. EXPLAIN. HIS MIND IS BEAST ADDLED

Shoulda let Ben slash hooks throat jay. You’re slipping buddy

Mal’s eating crow

Hopefully he chad suffocates. Then she’s have done one thing that wasn’t completely worthlessly reprehensible

🎶feelings🎶

And it had to ruin it

Te-am work. As plankton says

Proud sister

Boys are back. (With dude and the mutt in tow)

YAAAAAAAAAY

I hate happy harry. But I do like happy Uma. Eh. Double edged sword

BAL THIRST. FINALLY

Shoulda gone with Janelos. Jarlos is from big time rush

Oh they’re so cute

Poor Doug.

DOUG AND GIL FRIENDSHIP.

So. Update. Might be like Mal. (Definitely loving Ben’s facial hair)

Yawning over chad. So pathetic

Her seat from him douchey mcuseless

Poor Janey

Cats outta the bag

Once again. I kinda understand all points. Yeah Mal shouldn’t have lied. But Uma didn’t really give her and choice. And Evie just kinda assumed. And no one really lets her explain anything.

Hooks still pathetic. Even hurt emotionally I still wanna punch his roger rabbit looking face (Sorry Roger)

Oh dear

Mal. Don’t apologise. You did what you felt you needed to do. And no gives you a chance to explain. Ever.

Yes. You needed to do what you could.

Excellent acting all around as usual

Evie. Look. I love you. Your favourite number seven. But WHY IS IT YOUR SISTERS JOB. WHY DOES EVERYONE MAKE IT MALS PROBLEM

Ha! Evie said it. She said family.

Oh fuck. Taken for granite

More singing.

Monster/story/invincible

I do want to stab Harry in the mouth with the hook

More flashback. Yay(.). Couldn’t they fill out the runtime

Flashbacks. TO THE START OF THE SO G THE FLASHBACK IS FROM. OH FOR FUCK SAKES

More dragon.

Audrey’s performance might make me a vegetarian

How is it not crushed by the claws?

Fire should be green

Yay. Auds dead. Please say yes?

The twins say literally one thing

From magical incantation to vaguely irritating verbal tick. Well alright then

Evie. Why do you sound so sad. It’s a good thing Audrey’s dying. The ultimate price and all that. You should be glad. It’s a good thing

Mal: he’s my father. Ben: shocked face. Me: makes a sound like a boiling kettle

Bye bye facial hair

Die slut

More eating crow

The in laws meet

Exactly hades. Exactly. Knee beast in the dick

God Ben’s so hot.

Bite Adam’s throat out please hades

Should’ve let Audrey waste away. And sent granny to Tartarus to meet her

OH SPARE ME YOUR BLEEDING HEART ROUTINE! I still hate you in a fundamental level

OH FINALLY YOU GERIATRIC BITCH

Nice little family moment

What the fuck is Evie’s dress?

Queen Mal has a very nice ring to it.

Sure you can. You owe them noting. You owe nobody anything

Jay has a pull back braid in his hair. Yay!

“Audrey would be gone”. You say it as though that’s a bad thing

“Insert woody woodpecker laugh”. Fuck you Adam

Compromise. Bring the vks over. And plop Adam Audrey chad anleah on the isle. Sink it into the ocean

Why didn’t Verna bring the barrier down. Oh yeah. Cause then she’d be useful

More singing

At least this takes place in daylight

I still hate harry

Push Harry in the drink please. IM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU

God I love Ben and Doug

Why the Charleston?

I still hate tremaine

Well. Jane. In ZM. You met Mal. She’s Carlos’s mother in this au

Giljay. It’s cute

So Harry makes me ill right upbto the end. Now he’s related to purple and blue

🎶a bitch is in the dog house🎶. And deservedly so

🤮🤮🤮🤮

Sweet little king

Oh boy

Whore has a turkey neck

This is the end. Good movie. With some unneeded bits. I’m gonna change a lot in ZM part three. And both dedications broke me.

#disney descendants #descendants 3 #anti harry x chad #anti harry x doug #anti harry x jane #harry x jay #anti harlos #anti malvie #anti haudrey #anti benrry #anti harry hook #anti audrey daughter of sleeping beauty #anti chad charming

[waitinginthedarke]

It Consumes Me

A BTS/Kim Namjoon Fanfiction

Summary: The minute he laid eyes on her he knew she was the one. But love is a battle of the mind and the heart, and when the voices in your head start winning, how can your heart possibly compete with a choice that consumed you before the very start…

Type: Angst/Love

Disclaimer: This story contains strong themes. Should a chapter be potentially triggering, it will be stated beforehand. (This chapter, is simply filled with fluff, with minor reference to strong themes.)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4

You could feel your phone vibrating for the billionth time in your pocket as you sat in your 4th class of the day, teeth grinding as you wonder what it was that your dad could be angry about this time, wishing you hadn’t pissed him off this morning.

Nervously looking around, you take the lifeline that everyone was silently studying to catch the professor’s attention to signal that you were going to the bathroom; with a barely susceptible nod of his head, you had bolted out of the door and across the corridor to the bathroom. Your hand shook as you took your phone out of your pocket, yet the second you see the caller id on the screen, your body floods with adrenaline and without hesitation you’re pressing answer.

‘Hello?’

‘Y/N? Are you okay?’

He sounded panicked. That was odd.

‘Uh…yeah…yeah, im in the middle of class though.’

‘Oh, im sorry. I-..You-..you just hadn’t responded to my text. …and I accidentally slept in this morning, so I haven’t had time to ring you back-‘

Taking the phone away from your ear momentarily, you see the message about your missed calls he was on about, frowning in annoyance at your own lack of awareness, before holding the phone to your ear once more.

‘-Y/N?’

‘I’m so sorry, Namjoon-ah. I’ve been in classes all day and I was just so focused on studying at lunch that-‘

‘Hey, y/n…calm down, its okay. …I was just-…what did you call me for this morning? Did you need me for something?’

His voice was calm and reassuring, with only a hint of concern lingering around the edges, the sound pulling your heart into a tumult of guilt as you think back to that morning and remember exactly why you’d called him.

‘Uh, yes…no, its fine now. I just…I ended up having to walk to college cause I couldn’t get a lift from my dad and I was just really upset--…actually it was really selfish of me to call you in the first place- I’m sorry for worrying you.’ You explain, skirting around the fact that you couldn’t get the metro because you didn’t want to waste money on the fair…and that really you’d only rang him because you’d wanted the comfort the sound of his voice brought you after your argument with your dad that morning.

‘Hey! You have no reason to be sorry,…I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer the call. I would have done anything to make you feel better…’

There is a breath of silence as you both imagine the feeling of being together again, the mutual thought floating through the phone and the overwhelming emotion that came with the feeling has you grappling for the sink to steady yourself.

‘…Hey, listen- are you doing anything later?’ he asks suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts, and you open your eyes to see the tiles of the bathroom floor swimming before you as you draw in a breath, struggling to recall your later plans.

‘I-uh…I’ve got to go study at the library-‘

‘Would you mind if I came to see you? I’ve got a bit of time after seven…and I kind of really miss you.’

The statement was so timidly… bold. If you closed your eyes you could imagine the look on his face as if he stood before you there and then...- and that was all the incentive you needed.

‘Please.’

It wasn’t the word you’d wanted to say, and you could tell it was slightly awkward by the gentle chuckle that resonates through the phone from him, but its that same noise that has your shoulders relaxing again despite the distressed butterflies cascading around your stomach.

‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

The excitement of having his presence before you quickly bring’s your attention back to the present moment and you remember that you had to go back to class; a sad yet anticipatory goodbye later, and you’re back in your seat with your professor side-eyeing you due to how long you’d been.

----------------

‘Hey, do you wanna go for a walk, Namjoon-hyung?’

After visiting the flower shop earlier that day during break practise and storing the bouquet he’d bought in a hidden crevice by the recycling bins at the dorm, Namjoon had gone back to rehearsal, before finishing for the day and finding himself as he did in that moment; at the desk in his room feigning interest in a song he’d been playing around with for the past few days.

He was contemplating the best way to surprise Y/n when Jungkook had peeked his head around the door to his room, the beady eyed gaze of the younger guy boring into the back of Namjoon’s head causing him to quickly change his train of thought to how he would let his friend down easily without giving anything away.

‘Not right now, Jungkook.’ He murmurs, flickering his eyes over the screen before him as he dismisses him, believing that since he technically hadn’t given any excuse at all, he wasn’t lying to him about not wanting to go out.

‘Ah…okay…’

He’d thought that would have been it, the simple dismissal usually being all it took to evade one of the other guys, but after a moment or two of silence in which the light from the door continued to spill into the room, Namjoon realized that Jungkook still wanted something.

‘Is everything okay, Kookie?’

Its only as he turns his chair slightly so that he could see his friend, that he takes note of the deep in thought look on his face, slyly sitting to attention as he does so and watching Jungkook inquisitively.

‘I…Hyung, I’m going to ask you a question, and I really hope you don’t get mad at me cause I’m just concerned.’

Well, that wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

‘O-ka…y…’ Namjoon responds, narrowing his eyes at the other guy as he watches him enter the room fully and shut the door behind him, appearing to try to compose himself before speaking.

‘Who are the flowers for?’

Oh.

Namjoon watches his friend for a moment, eyes boring into eyes as his brain works over time to search for an out to the question.

‘What flowers?’

Wow, genius, Namjoon- evade a question with another question; brilliant ide-

‘The flowers you bought at the florist earlier and hid behind the recycle bins.’

…well fuck.

He pauses for a moment, eyebrows slowly pulling in as his thoughts turn from what to say to escape this line of questioning, to why Jungkook knew all this information.

‘Jungkook…have you been following me?’

It was that question that tipped Namjoon off, or more specifically his friends reaction to it; the slightly widened eyes, the immediate glances around the room, the fiddling of his fingers as he begins to stutter.

‘ah, no. I was just-…I was just concerned, cause- well because you haven’t been yourself lately…and-‘

‘What do you mean, ‘I haven’t been myself’?’ Namjoon presses, feeling his jaw tense as anger and confusion rolls into his belly, his logical side dismissing it immediately as his friend just being concerned about him, but a small part of him continues to fight against this line of inquiry…the jealous part of him.

‘You’ve just been more distracted than usual…but more excitable too, almost hyper in practise, and yesterday and today you were just so eager to finish practise-‘

‘Is it a crime to be excited for practise to be over? You know its not my favourite thing, Jungkook-‘

‘Yeah, but Namjoon-hyung, that still doesn’t explain the flowers-‘

At that point, Namjoon had had enough; in his mind, he knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t argue with his friend, and the clock behind the younger guy’s shoulder was only counting down the minutes faster till the time he’d said he’d meet y/n, and so pushing himself to his feet he gave in with a sigh.

‘You’re that concerned? Why don’t you come and meet who they’re for. But, please…please Jungkook-ah…I need you to promise me something-‘

God, he was going to hell for this.

‘- you can’t tell the others.’

-----------------

If you were being honest with yourself, not a single word on any page that you’d read for the past three hours had entered your mind, let alone settled into your memory. It had gotten to the point that you’d put earbuds in to try and block out any external distractions, but that had in turn just left you with your thoughts, and your imagination; …his hands holding your own, stroking up your arm, fingers curling around your waist, breath hot on your neck.

You cant help the loud gasp that escapes you when you suddenly feel the weight of a palm on your forearm, snapping your eyes open and twisting your head almost to the point of whiplash, before your mind registers the face in front of you that your mind had done no justice to in its feeble imaginings. It’s a moment of watching his lips move and hearing a dull mumble as you stare at him happily, before you realize you still had your ear buds in, and instinctively you hold your fingertips up to his mouth to stop him as you quickly tear the little rubber pods from your ears and proceed to grin at him as you place them on the table next to you before lowering your hand to allow him to proceed.

But in the manner that you’d already realized was only ever going to be his, he refused to let your hand leave his lips before he pressed a soft kiss to your fingertips, a shy smile creeping out from behind your palm on his lips as he brings your hand down to hold it in his lap.

‘Hello, beautiful.’

Those two words alone were enough to send a shiver racing down your spine, stomach contracting in want as you drink in the sight and feel of him, ears practically ringing happily with the welcome tones of his voice that were the first thing they were really hearing in hours.

‘Hey.’

The squeaky, almost whispered greeting was all you could manage with the way you felt so dizzy in his presence, not paying any attention to the goofy grin that was taking over your face as your mind completely forgets about your school work in exchange for honing all senses on the angel before you.

‘My goodness, I forgot how heavenly you were. …I’m sorry for scaring you, I just had to say hello before I let you get on with your work. Actually, first-‘

The way his lips pressed so surely against your own, his scent filling your lungs and dispersing itself around your body, drags you into him without the help of his hands that automatically reach out to pull you that tiny bit closer. Your hands were already reaching up to pull lightly on the collar of his shirt by the time his palms come to rest on your hips and without a thought you find yourself sinking your teeth gently into his bottom lip, pulling a light moan from him that has you both freezing in your motions as it echoes down toward the end of the library.

‘Oops.’ He mutters against your lips, and you quickly detach your mouth to smother your giggle in his chest, the noise traversing into a hum as his arms slip around you to crush you close against him, clouding you in his warmth as his lips settle a kiss to the top of your head.

‘So what are we studying tonight?’ he murmurs, the feel of his head turning to the side so that he could peer at your textbooks pulling a pout onto your face as you sense the end of the cuddle, regretfully pulling back as you read the title to him.

‘The fragmentation of identity in modern Japan.’

‘huh…nothing too deep then?’ he comments sarcastically, winking at you when you side eye him, and you can feel your cheeks immediately heating in response.

‘Its for my literature class; we’re currently studying Murakami.’ You explain, shuffling some of the papers that you’d been writing on around your desk as you try to force your brain back into the paper you’d been writing, remembering some jumbled theory of an Oedipus complex revival that lay in the hidden depths of the writer’s words.

‘Ahh…I vaguely remember reading ‘Norwegian Wood’; a meaningful writer, but not as philosophical as some of the stories I enjoy getting lost in.’ he murmurs, the comment contradicting his motions as he begins to pull your copy of ‘Burning’ towards himself and you watch his expression sink into interest whilst his eyes glide over the page. Until that moment he’d always exuded a feeling of cool, calm, collected business man come fashionista, but you couldn’t help appreciating the scholarly air that rolled off of him as you inspected his side profile whilst he read the book; taking in the defined curve of his jaw as he clenched his teeth in concentration, the way his eyebrows drew in as he processed the movements of the characters, these little details being washed from your focus as his thumb begins to rub gently over the backs of your fingers where his hand had come to sit around yours.

‘Your hands are cold.’ he mutters off-handedly, reaching his free hand up to turn the page before absentmindedly finding your other hand and enveloping them both in his grasp, rubbing his thumbs gently in circles to create warmth, the move being so caring that you feel your chest swell happily with emotion.

You leave him for a few minutes, simply allowing him to get sucked into Murukami’s deceptively indulgent words and watching him wistfully as your mind rolls out the billions of future possibilities your life could take on if it allowed you to stay with him.

‘I’m sorry, I know I’m not meant to be distracting you, I just couldn’t help myself.’ He says guiltily when the end of the chapter suddenly blocks off his progression into the rest of the story, his sudden awareness of himself amusing you so much that you lean over to press a kiss to his shoulder before removing one of your hands from his and reaching up to save the page, closing the book promptly afterwards and drawing his attention back to you as you smile up at him.

‘Whats that face for?’ you ask him, frowning when you see the curves of his face contorting into concern and worry, and what appears to be a hint of sheepishness.

‘Well firstly, I have a surprise for you.’ He starts without hesitation, his concern turning to a cheesy grin – with a tiny hint of embarrassment- before he motions for you to stay put, climbing up from his chair swiftly and bolting off towards the stairway, leaving you looking after him puzzled. He’s barely gone for a minute before he’s re-emerging, this time with a poorly concealed array of flowers held at his back.

‘You’re aware I can see those flowers behind your back right?’ you call quietly to him, not bothering to keep your voice quite as quiet as you should after realizing that you were one of the very few people in the library that evening – save the nerdy-looking guy that always sat in the corner-nook at the other end of the bookcases, using the computers as a means to up his score in starcraft.

‘Well pretend you cant until I show you.’ He complains sweetly, the frustrated whined tone in which he reprimands you causing you to conceal your laugh behind your hand, before resuming an oblivious expression to appease him, inwardly smiling as you watch him amble toward you whilst trying to compose himself, coming to a stop at the side of your chair as his face transforms into one of distracted happiness.

‘Y/N, I’ve wanted to do this for such a long time in my life; to find someone that I can do this for, and it makes me the happiest person in the world that I’ve finally been given the chance not just to do it, but to do it for someone I already know is…and will be for a long time… irrevocably important to me. So…’

His speech alone was enough to bring a tear to your eye, but the way he crouches down to your level as he brings the bouquet into your line of sight, presenting them to you by reaching for your hand to help you gain a good hold on them and keeping his grip warmly on you, has you biting your lip to choke back the tears, looking back at him after allowing your eyes to roam the lilies and roses, and chrysanthemums, and feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you laugh at your own emotional state, pulling the flowers out of the way slightly so that you could crash your lips to his.

The robotic voice in your mind that was overly conscious of your basic instincts couldn’t help compare the moment to that morning; when your father had driven away from the house and left you crying on the door step, expression completely free of concern over the fact that he’d left you locked out with no easy way of getting to school on time other than by running as fast as possible.

The tender caress of Namjoon’s hand on your jaw as his lips moulded themselves to fit yours so exactly, like your mouths were made to kiss over and over for centuries to come, had more tears streaming from your eyes as you clutched at his neck, not wanting him to ever leave his place in that moment; not wanting time to move forwards or backwards, but to stay put in that moment forever.

‘So, you like them?’

Your need for him in that moment had you wanting to smother his words with your mouth, your fingers crawling into his hair never wanting to leave, but the voice of reason in your mind, had you pulling back the most miniscule amount so that you could greet his eyes with your own, offering him a sad, yet simultaneously ecstatic smile as you nod your head gratefully at him.

‘They’re beautiful.’ You whisper, inspecting them once more, so consumed in the gentle, yet bright colours before your eyes, that you start a little when you feel his thumb come to swipe across your cheeks, wiping away the tears you’d shed.

He doesn’t say anything when your eyes lock onto his timidly, his expression seeming thoughtful, but no questions being raised as he leans forward once more to touch one last gentle kiss to your lips, before standing up and leaving the flowers in your grasp.

Its at that point that he seems to brace himself, and you feel tension fill you in reaction, waiting for whatever he was about to bring to the table.

‘I’m glad you think so. …Okay-‘

‘Namjoon, what?-‘ you go to ask, becoming uneasy with his stalling, before getting distracted by a new figure entering the library, and you narrow your eyes slightly as a white flag raises in your mind, your distant memory recognizing him in some way.

‘I wanted to tell you before I came, but I thought it was best to give you the flowers first as that was my original plan.’ He begins to explain, appearing a little frustrated by the unfolding events, and you frown in concern as you watch the figure come to a slow stop beside him, looking almost awkwardly between the two of you, despite his gaze lingering on you a little longer, and more curiously with each glance.

You remain silent as your brain processes his words and the appearance of this new guy, eyes grazing over him inquisitively as a multitude of resolutions begin listing themselves out to you in your head, but none of them filling the slot of explanation that your mind had set up ready as to why the guy was there.

‘Y/n, this is Jungkook.’ Namjoon begins, addressing you, but keeping his gaze locked on you as he switches stances, slipping into the seat beside you once more and reaching for your hand as a content, almost happily bemused smile creeps onto his face, and he addresses the other guy.

‘Jungkook, this is her…

...this is y/n.’

(T.B.C)

#bts #bts fanfiction #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan sonyeondan #kim namjoon #namjoon #kim namjoon fanficion #namjoon fanfiction #bts namjoon #bts namjoon fanfiction #bts rap monster #namjoon fluff #bts fluff #kpop #kpop fanfiction #jungkook #kim namjoon fluff #bts namjoon fluff #bts namjoon smut

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

Kurt felt his feet scraping across the ground as he forced himself down the hallway. The last few weeks had left him feeling so small. Dave and Santana being outted, Dave’s suicide attempt, losing out on both class presidency and the main role in A West Side Story; every bit of life seemed to be weighing him down recently. And then there was Blaine.

 Ever since Blaine had enrolled at McKinley, the two of them seemed to be parting ways more as each day went past. Of course Sebastian’s arrival hadn’t helped the situation, but deep down Kurt knew those same issues had been festering for a while. At times, Kurt found himself wondering if he was mismatched with Blaine; if Blaine would be happier with someone like Sebastian, someone more… spontaneous. Or at least someone who would answer his calls. Since that night, the sheer sound of Blaine’s voice was off-putting to Kurt. All that would come to mind was his hands spreading out and grabbing at Kurt, taking as much as he could like a kid with a candy bowl. The memory left a bad taste in Kurt’s mouth; almost as bad as remembering he had apologised for rejecting Blaine’s advances. At the time, Kurt had convinced himself that Blaine was right, that he had just been spoiling the fun, but the bad taste remained nonetheless.

 The one positive that had come out of the last few weeks was that the New Directions had reunited. To the surprise of everybody, Rachel had suggested giving others a chance to sing at Nationals, as long as she got her solo of course. It did mean, however, that all choreography the group had begun to work on prior to the girls coming back now had to be changed. And with Rachel’s two left feet and Tina’s quieter nature, Kurt was called in by Quinn to help choreograph and teach the new routine.

 On better days, Kurt didn’t mind helping out. Today was not one of those days. After the hypocritical mess Blaine pulled singing It’s Not Right But It’s Okay, Kurt was in no mood to see the glee club. Regardless, both Rachel and Quinn had insisted that with Nationals coming up, every chance they can get to practice had to be used.

 As he entered the room, Kurt could all but feel the atmosphere change. Quiet whispers stopped as Finn stood up. Giving signal to the others, Kurt watched as they followed him, each one of them approaching him as Puck closed the door.

 “Why are you all acting like you’re about to give an interve… oh my god, this is an intervention, isn’t it? Look I know Blaine gave a messed up image of us but it’s not going to affect the tea…”

 “We just want to talk,” Finn interrupted, gesturing Kurt a seat.

 Kurt bit his lip before shuffling his feet over to the seat. The awkward silence continued. Filled with uncertainty, Finn’s eyes shuffled between the boys’ and Rachel’s before she sighed and spoke up.

 “What’s going on with you Kurt?”

 The others scolded the brunette’s bluntness before being reminded that no one else was willing to ask. As they begun to quarrel, Quinn shut them down.

 “What Rachel meant was is everything okay? You’ve had a tough year, not to mention everything you’re still dealing with from last year and we just wanted to check in. If our conversation after Karofsky taught me anything, it’s that none of us should assume that people are coping when they’re in strife.”

 “I’m fine.”

 The words sped out of Kurt’s mouth like a horse belting toward the finish line. Kurt could feel how untrue the statement was as he spoke the words, yet he still found himself faking a smile in hopes to convince the others. It didn’t work. As he looked over at Mercedes, her disappointment hit him, forcing him to look at the ground.

 “Honey,” she started, “the truth is you haven’t been yourself for a long time now. And it’s clear that Blaine going behind your back for the West Side Story role has made things worse, especially after his performance today. We got to hear his side, now it’s only fair we hear yours.”

 Kurt stuttered for a moment before falling silent. His head went back and forth arguing over what to say next. On one hand, this was his relationship. It wasn’t any concern, or business for that matter, of the others. Not to mention Blaine was already upset with him, why make things worse? But at the same time, they were his friends and they were there trying to help. Even Santana and Puck had shown up. Regardless, Kurt couldn’t find the words.

 “It’s nothing, I’ll fix things up with Blaine later on,” He lied before sighing, “Thank you though Mercedes, for setting this up.”

 “It wasn’t me,” Mercedes smiled, looking over at Finn.

 Kurt blinked before staring at Finn.

 “I’m your brother Kurt. I’m worried about you. Nothing you say is going to change that. I, I just couldn’t find the words to say that, so I called in these guys.”

 Silence filled the room again. Kurt find his eyes shuffling back to the ground. Mike moved next to Kurt, placing his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and assuring him it’d be alright.

 “You’re wrong about the show being the issue,” Kurt started, “Around the time the role was allocated, Sebastian came into the picture…”

 “The jerk from Daltons who was trying to get onto Blaine?” Tina enquired.

 “Yeah him,” Kurt muttered, “except it wasn’t just him trying to get Blaine. Blaine was responding and meeting up with him behind my back. The night before the opening day of the show, Sebastian invited us to some bar. Blaine spent the whole night getting drunk and dancing with him until it was time to leave. I got him to the car and he wouldn’t stop touching me. I yelled for him to stop, but he, he just wouldn’t. Eventually I shoved him off and he yelled at me before leaving, but things just haven’t been the same since.”

 “That hobbit tried to rape you?” Santana shouted.

 Kurt shook his head as he began to stutter. Being barely comprehensible, he started saying it was his fault and how he had apologised the next day. As the eyes of those around him widened, Quinn interrupted.

 “You shouldn’t have.”

 “Quinn’s right,” Puck jumped in before looking at Quinn in guilt, “It’s not your fault he tried to take advantage of you after knowing you had drunken.”

 “Actually, I was the designated driver, so I was sober.” Kurt explained.

 “Dude it doesn’t matter,” Finn said, “He doesn’t get to treat you like that.”

 Unable to find the words, Kurt fell silent. Deep down he knew Finn was right and that once upon a time, there would be no way Kurt would let himself be treated like this, but things were different now. The realisation of dying alone had plagued his mind. He didn’t expect Finn or Rachel or any of the other straight members to understand. Finding a partner for them was like finding a penny. The opportunity was always there. Hell, even Santana and Brittany didn’t have to worry because they found the love of their lives already. But he hadn’t. The two gay men Kurt knew were Blaine and Karofsky, a boy who physically assaulted him for years. The thought that he may never find love crushed Kurt, but at least Blaine was something.

 Before anyone spoke, a phone began to blare. Reaching in his pocket, Kurt noticed the number straight off, leading him to sigh.

 “That’s him now,” he started, “I should probably get going.”

 The group went to speak out, but Finn just shook his head at them. As Kurt gathered his things and started to walk out of the room, he heard Brittany’s voice come from behind him.

 “Don’t forget we love you Kurt.”

 Closing the door behind him, Kurt walked away. Once out of the building, he looked down at his phone, sighing as he pressed the number of the missed call. Before he was able to say anything, a voice cut in.

 “Where are you Kurt? I called your dad when you didn’t answer and he said Finn told him you were at a glee meeting which clearly isn’t where you are. Are you with Chandler? Is that why you refused to answer my calls? I knew Finn was threatened by my talent but to help you do this is next level petty and you dragging him into it is just as bad.”

 The voice continued rambling, cutting Kurt off as he tried to answer. Moments of incoherent rambling passed, lowering Kurt’s patience until all at once, it disappeared.

 “Blaine, stop,” Kurt started, “I’m not with Chandler. The fact that you think so little of me as to not only accuse me of that but bring the glee club into it with your performance today shows just what you think of me.”

 Stutters from the other end of the phone fell silent as Kurt pushed the red button. Stopping in his tracks, Kurt felt a sigh leave his chest. Confusion and guilt begun to set in as Kurt realised that despite his frustration, the sigh had been in relief, not despair. As the phone in his hand begun to vibrate again, he found himself clenching harder as he walked away. After minutes of nonstop ringing, Kurt hung up one final time before clicking the messaging button.

 ‘I’m sorry okay. Just give me time.’

 Disgust hit Kurt as he pressed send. He continued walking as he thought about how things had gotten so bad between him and Blaine that the person he could tell everything to had become the person he felt he had to lie most to. The phone continued to buzz as several messages came through. With his patience falling, Kurt placed his phone in his bag, making sure to do so in a way where it would not noticeably vibrate off anything else.

 As he reached his house, Kurt went straight into his bedroom, closing the door and grabbing out his phone. Upon seeing the endless stream of messages, Kurt ran his fingers through his hair, grasping then slightly yanking at it. His fingers began typing at the phone before deleting and typing again for several minutes before stopping and deleting it once more. He typed one final message.

 ‘We need to talk to someone Blaine. Meet me in Emma’s office tomorrow.’

 Before Blaine could respond, Kurt heard his door twist. Placing the phone back in his bag, Kurt stood up. The door opened, leading Kurt to relax.

 “Don’t come in unexpectedly Finn. You startled me.”

 Finn stared at Kurt in silence for a moment before speaking.

 “I just wanted to check that we’re cool after what happened. Look, I know I should have spoken to you privately before bringing in the others like that. I just didn’t know what to say. I think you need to tell Burt and my mum though, you know, about what Blaine did.”

 Kurt felt his throat tighten with each word that came out of Finn’s mouth. His eyes began scanning the room, looking for anything else to talk about. Maybe an unclean surface to attend to or homework to do. But nothing came to mind. With an awkward expression on his face, Kurt looked back at Finn.

 “We can’t tell dad. You heard about what he did to Karofsky and that was just some bully. Blaine’s my partner. He’d put him in hospital.”

 “Maybe he should.”

 Finn’s words came off louder and more abrasive than he had meant them, causing Kurt to flinch. In response, Kurt let out a sigh whilst saying Finn’s name. Another silence came over the room before Finn spoke.

 “Kurt, we’ve gotta tell someone who can help you.”

 “I don’t need help Finn. I’m fine.” Kurt lied.

 “So you’d still be calling it fine if I did that to Rachel then? Or what about if Sam did it to Mercedes? Because that definitely wasn’t the case when you were telling me that what happened to Quinn was Puck’s fault and his alone.”

 “Blaine didn’t get me drunk Finn. Plus, after what happened with Puck and Quinn, I know you’d never do that to Rachel, nor would the other guys with their girlfriends.”

 “We never thought Blaine would do that to you Kurt.”

 Finn’s words hit hard. Kurt tried to find words, but none came to him. Silence began to consume the room only to be broken by the vibrating sound coming from Kurt’s bag. Nothing was said, but the sympathetic look in Finn’s eyes made Kurt just uncomfortable enough to look away. Finn considered reaching out for Kurt’s arm before another vibrating noise from Kurt’s bad stopped him. Instead, he clenched his fist and sighed.

 “At least tell mum.”

 “You say that as if she wouldn’t just tell my dad.” Kurt said.

 “She wouldn’t,” Finn started, “She’s been here before Kurt. I mean not sexually from what I know, but when I was little she had a relationship that really messed her up, the same way Blaine is messing you up right now. She’ll be able to help… Just think about it, yeah?”

 With that, Finn walked away. Kurt sat back down on his bed, grabbing out his phone. Blaine had sent several messages stating why they didn’t need Emma involved and how everything was going to be okay. Kurt stared at the final message, a simple ‘I love you’, for several moments before placing the phone face down on the bed. Pulling himself up from the bed, Kurt walked over to the door, checking down the hallways for Finn before closing it. As the door clicked shut, Kurt felt his body slide down to the ground as began to cry.

#this is just a draft for the first part of my anti klaine story because tumblr won't let me send it to people rip

[swampgallows]

therapy today went okay but i feel like i talked too much lmfao. i passed out around like 10pm and now im awake again and uhh hmmm ngngngghghhhmhm

also she asked me like “find out what you wanna get out of therapy and then we can set some goals” lmao i wanna GET FIXED 

i dunno if i am actually mentally ill or if it’s just my mom/environment or if i’m neurodivergent somehow or if i need medication or whatever the fuck it is, i just know that it’s not normal to feel okay one day and then have some minor thing happen that catapults me into feeling suicidal. im doing better lately but that’s why i signed up for therapy NOW because i know when im feeling good i get this delusion of like “haha see i never needed it at all :)” and then some little fucking thing happens (or nothing happens) and suddenly i cant get out of bed for three days. i told her that i think it’s more than my environment because even when i was busy at work and even when i was busy and away from home in college i had extremely persistent and severe depression, got into several different overlapping abusive relationships, nearly failed my classes one semester, and then i got hit by a car, was in a wheelchair for 6 months, then had our car hit by a semi immediately afterward. it’s time for new glasses btw lmao as i am still wearing the same pair that got scratched to shit and annihilated in the accident. lmfao The Accident™

this is a pic of them from the night of the accident and the scratches have only gotten worse. id take a new pic but im in bed in the dark and whatever

the therapist seemed impressed with my psychology knowledge which was kind of discomforting, in a way. i guess im just so used to my own situation and people utilizing the internet to learn about their own head cases that i dont consider it novel to have actually done research. also because with my other experiences i felt like doctors would be dismissive of me as if i was trying to one-up them or something, like “well -I- have the degree and YOU dont” like, well yeah, im not sitting here trying to correct you but i am gonna use the terminology im familiar with even if theyre super special SAT words or w/e (like i’m gonna say shit like “comorbid” and “hypnagogic” because that’s the terminology i use all the time to describe these situations... i throw out “5 dollar words” all the time :\) but i think maybe by also having a video/verbal conversation w me that she knows i’m not sitting there meticulously typing up the most fancy schmancy shit i can find, flippin through a thesaurus like a blood elf nobleman vampire’s purple prose or somethin.

i guess what i wanna get out of therapy is uh

1. i dont want to be suicidal, which means 2. i have to build confidence, which means 3. i have to become self-reliant, or more self-reliant than i am.

she suggested, on the grounds of my mom giving me interrogation any time i try to go out on my own (hence me only feeling comfortable to go out when i fucking sneak out of the house or on the VERY rare occasions that she isn’t home) that i have a written list that i either give to her personally or write out and leave for her to read at her leisure of all the answers to her questions: where ive gone, when i’ll be back, what i’m doing, etc. the problem is coming home, though, because then she reads me the riot act of guilt on anything i did. if i go out and get food, it becomes about her. if i go out and do an errand, it becomes about her. everything i do somehow falls back on her. 

i explained to the therapist that even when i was still working—a perfect chance to learn to drive and drive regularly—i took the bus the entire time. but i’d have to be driven TO the bus stop and then take the bus to work, which meant my mom drove me to the bus every day. and my dad would talk about how good it was for MY MOM to have a reason to get up in the morning, and that it’s good for her because it gives her a kind of schedule or obligation to follow. so then like... my schedule now becomes HER schedule. and i martyr my potential independence of driving to work on my own in order to give my mom a sense of purpose. 

so...every day, mom picked me up from the bus stop, just like she had been for all the years i was in school. of course i never went out and did anything after (or before!) work; i never had the freedom. sure i could tell my mom partway through the day if i was staying late or going somewhere else, but my work was also in the middle of a canyon, five miles of nothing in either direction. if i missed the bus home, i wouldnt have another chance to go home for another hour. so having buses come only once an hour and then also having my mom waiting for me at the stop... it was just too much trouble to say like “hm i think i’ll go grab a smoothie before work” or “maybe i’ll hang with my coworkers a bit and go grab dinner with them” or “maybe i’ll start going to the gym after work”. i couldnt make any executive decisions about my own life. i think that restriction of freedom happens for lower income people too, since youre relying on a (notoriously shitty) bus service to get anywhere and you also cant just throw money around that often. i had a little slush fund to treat myself every so often but i didnt have the access to it. 

EVERY day that i was 20 minutes away from the stop i would have to text my mom the name of the stop (imagine, if it were “maple street” or something, my entire text message history with my mom just being “maple” “k” “maple” “k” back and forth for months) in case she had fallen asleep or was doing something, as the bus would sometimes be late or early or whatever. and sometimes i would delay that text on purpose to have the extra time to buy something from one of the fast food places located at my bus stop, then hide it in the bottom of my bag and hope it wasn’t too aromatic that my mom would notice and ask me about it. 

BECAUSE if i bought food on a day she made dinner, she would flagellate herself about it, and if i bought food on a day that she DIDNT make dinner she would flagellate herself about it. it’s HER FAULT because she doesn’t make food enough that i have to go buy my own :((((, so the one time she does cook i’m already getting food because she’s unreliable :((((, and shit like that, instead of like, just because there IS food doesn’t...mean anything!!!!! maybe i just wanted a certain kind of food that day!! But it becomes about her!!!! everything i do hurts her. everything i do. so i just got adjusted to just... not eating, or eating the same things over and over. eventually, when i was still working, i would eat nothing but a muffin until i came home. and if there was food, i would eat it, and if there wasn’t, then i wouldn’t eat. many nights i went to bed without eating even if there WAS food because i was just so fucking tired.

i dunno i kinda lost my train of thought but basically it’s hard to assert myself because i’m not confident because a lot of the time i dont know if im doing something right. it reminds me a lot of the scene in tangled where rapunzel fucks up and something bad happens to her and her mom catches her in the act, and she uses that to reinforce rapunzel’s dependence on her. like obviously my mom isn’t abusive like that but it makes me afraid to fail and even MORE afraid to even try, because i know that if i DO fail--whatever it is--it will just be more evidence for why i should have just asked her or had her do it. and more evidence, to me, of why im worthless and shitty and incapable of doing anything.

like the other day my mom wanted me to follow her in a separate car to a car place to drop off the car she was driving, and then we’d go home together in one car. but she wanted me to do it at 9 in the fucking morning and let me know two days beforehand. i had been going to BED at like 7am at the time so i was already like ‘man this is gonna suck’. but i was still up in the morning and was getting ready to take a shower, iw as on time, but my mom said “i can tell how tired you are and how nervous you are about doing this so you know what dont worry about it. go back to bed.” and it was really shitty for me because YEAH i was super tired and YEAH i didnt feel like i was capable of driving by myself at that moment, like i probably COULD HAVE if it were an emergency, but my mom talked about doing all this shit afterward like going on a shopping trip and stuff and BASICALLY it’s less that i was afraid of the driving but more that i knew the errand wouldn’t end there. and i had gotten zero sleep and just didnt wanna fucking do it, i didnt wanna have a “girl time :)” outing with my mom, and i knew i’d basically get trapped into hanging out with my mom if i went. so i stayed home. but then that’s also a blow to me because stupid fucking worthless idiot that i am cant even drive ten miles in a fucking car, or whatever, useless leech living with my parents contributing nothing, unemployed for a year, blah blah blah. stupid fucking neet should have never been born etc etc etc

she took an uber home and had glowing reviews about the experience and that’s great for her but the guilt made me throw up because i couldnt even do this minuscule thing. so like, if i DO hand her a note and say “here’s all the shit im going to do, BUH BYE” and some shit happens, or i dont get what i need done, or i dont have a fully developed plan of what i’m doing, then it’s gonna be more ammunition toward what a useless piece of shit i am. like, i dont have good food to eat at the house, but i also have NO APPETITE so nothing sounds good, so i cant even think of what foods i would get if i could. it’s such a jarring opportunity that i would just like...not get anything at all and go home. even when i -did- have the opportunity i just went “Uhh umm uhhh fuck uhhh milk” and got that (AND THEN MY MOM CAME HOME W 2 GALLONS OF MILK FROM COSTCO, SO OF COURSE I -DID SOMETHING WRONG-!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IF I JUST LEFT IT UP TO HER INSTEAD OF DARING TO DO SOMETHING MYSELF I WOULDNT HAVE LOOKED LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT AND ENDED UP WITH 3 GALLONS OF MILK AT THE HOUSE) of course i drank the milk i bought, it’s not like it went to waste, but i was CAUGHT because there were now THREE instead of the one gallon covertly getting replaced. instead of me doing something helpful i did something that became an inconvenience.

it’s just little shit but it all adds up. it’s been all of these little fucking things forever and ever and ever, just like my mom’s hoarded garbage. “i bought just a couple of things”, innumerable times throughout the duration of my entire life, forever and ever, “just a few small things” over and over until it’s suffocating.  it’s just all this little shit all the fucking time and it’s suffocating.

naturally, the therapist sent me an article on “daughters of narcissistic mothers”. this will be a delight to read, i’m sure.

#blathering

[splattershotsundae]

Ink is Thicker Than Water --- Chapter 5: I give it a 10

Toda spent most of his afternoon wishing he felt well enough to pace. Finding out that Orvokki was still alive was no small news. She was a cruel woman, and visions of what she was like, and what she thought like still stuck with him and plagued his sleep. Another thing to worry about was Simon… They’d logged off in a huff, and he was genuinely worried, both about how they were and about… how they really thought about him.

A motion from his skope caught his attention and he took a sharp breath. Simon was back online.

T: hey

S: Hey.

T: I'm sorry about earlier. i was freaking out bout Orvokki, and I forgot and gt a little carried away. T: we decided we still arent going to do anyhting right now.

S: ... Ok.

T: ... u doing ok...?

Toda sighed a little after he sent it. He should just ask them... He was probably freaking out over nothing. Simon had told Jill that she was strong, in and out of battle, hadn't they? And hadn't they told him that they thought Rank was just a letter and a number, before they played Rainmaker? ... But when they lost at Blackbelly, they took that pretty hard... He'd thought it had something to do with what Yuri had said to them, especially with the conversation the two of them had had afterwards... but was that the case?

S:... Not really. S: But there's not much we can do.

T: Yeah...

T: can i ask u something?

S: Yeah, sure.

T: when did u know that u liked me? How long had we knon each ohter? T: Im not trying 2 b gushy, just curious.

S:... S: Call me shallow, but I'm pretty sure I was going to yell at you for bumping into me until I saw your face. S: when I said I'd always found you cute... I... Wasn't kidding. S: I kind of thought it would just be a fling...but here we are.

His breath caught in his throat, and it felt like his stomach had dropped a few inches. Oh no. Any other time he would've been a little flattered, but... no no no...

S: what really got me was... Getting to know you though... You've been a good influence on me. S: I wouldn't trade meeting you, or how I feel, for anything in the entire world.

T: Ive been a good influence on u?

S: Yeah.

He paused, looking at the message. What had he done that they'd think was a good influence? He typed a response, trying to make it sound lighthearted.

T: how so? hvae I... inspired u to make more puns or smoething? :P

S: Ha, maybe that in addition. S: ... I was starting to forget what trust felt like. S: well, except with Jill. But the point is, I needed some mutual trust... You and Bato sort of reminded me. You guys got me to open up. S: I'm sure there are other things here and there but... That's what comes to mind first.

T: ah...

S: Are you ok?

T: yea mi fnie

Toda winced; he'd sent that way too quickly... Quit stalling and just ask already, for crying out loud.

S: .... Toda...

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, his face flushing, then took a deep breath. Here goes nothing…

T: We told Jill about the conversation we had the other day; we were trying to explain why w weren't going to tlak to 3, and we sort of back ourselves nto a corner. T: wen we told her you had sort of said not to mention it to hr, she said it was because u thoght she was weak T: Because she lkies to batle for fun, and u battle to win T: she thinks taht u think that makes hr weak

S: ... She... Still thinks that?

T: Thats what she said... T: ... So ou don't think that?

S: Did you think I do?

T: I didn't at first, cause I told u right when we met that B nd I play for fun T: btu seh said if u hd liked m from the start tehn u would have askd us anyway T: I still didn't wnat 2 tihnk that u thought liek taht T: btu i wsa...

S: i domt anytmore Damn it.

[SloshMasterV3 is offline]

T: wiat no! His fingers trembled. He didn’t mean to make them upset again, he just… He took another deep breath and wiped his eyes. At least he had an answer… Sort of...

He read their last message again; they didn't anymore... So had they used to?

A chime pulled him from his thoughts.

[4PawzAndMeow is online.]

J: re u the reason theres a new barrge of sobs comin form S's room?

Toda's heart sank. Oh no…

T: ... Probbly...

J: O J: I... wasn't bein serioos.

T: u soundd pretty serious

J: i ment th@ i didnt think u were Y... sry

T: oh

J:... U dint brak up wih thm did U?

T: no no T: no I didn't

J: @ lest theres th@

T: yah...

He glanced at Simon's tab. He needed to apologize again... But… it could be hours before they came back online…

T: hy Jill T: can I cme ovr? T: I want to say sory to thm. T: or hve a chance to

J: say sorry 4 wh@?

T: how abot if thy dn’t wnat to hear it I go to yuor room an we cn talk

There was a long pause.

J: yeah K. J: th@ works.

T: k T: be theer soon

J: k

He took a deep breath, then got his shoes on, slipped on his Splattershot Jr’s holster, and went on his way, taking his time so he didn’t wear himself out. He thought all the way over, running through his head his apology over and over again. How much should he say? Probably everything. As he drew near to the Grace house, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Madeline opened the door, blinking in surprise. "Toda?" She asked. "Simon and Jill didn't say you were coming over."

"Afternoon, Mrs. Grace." Toda said, probably more formally than he needed to. "Jill invited me over about an hour ago?”

She paused, glancing over her shoulder for a second, then stepped aside to let him in. “Alright, just don’t bug Simon right now, they’re… not feeling so good today.”

He felt a twinge of guilt; That was the exact reason why he was here. "Thank you.” He said, peering around as he entered.

It was still quite a mess, the floor was scuffed and stained in a multitude of places, the stairs had no railing, bullet holes in the walls, the drywall on the ceiling was cracked, and Madeline’s prized roller was resting beside the stairs instead of hanging on the wall, at least for the moment. It looked like a warzone, and to be fair it sort of was. He gave a nod toward Madeline, then carefully made his way upstairs, managing to avoid grabbing for the railing that was no longer there.

He carefully stepped up to Simon’s door, a lump in his throat. He could hear faint sobbing on the other side, and he briefly considered skipping and just talking to Jill… when he saw her staring at him from down the hall. Her gaze flitted from him to the door and back again expectantly.

He took what felt like the millionth deep breath that day and knocked softly on the door.

“Go AWAY!” They shouted immediately.

He flinched, glancing for the stairs and praying Madeline hadn’t heard that. "Simon?" When there was no reply he steeled himself and continued. "Simon, I.. I wanted to apologize for earlier. I would have sent a message on Skope, but you were offline and… " He looked down at the floor. “The question was personal, it… I hope it didn’t feel like… an attack. When Jill.. When she told me about your past, it... Kind of struck a nerve with me. There was this kid I was sort of friends with for a while, named Benny; I think I referred to him once as a 'Luna-wielding ass'... It's a long story, but I should have known better than to think that you would think like that. I know you're not like that, I know that isn't you. I'm really sorry."

There was a long pause before the door opened a crack, and Simon stuck out their hand. Gingerly he took it, grip loose, just in case they wanted to pull away. However, their grip tightened, and they flung open the door, pulling him into an embrace.

He squeaked and stumbled as he almost lost his balance, but then squeezed them tight, resting his chin on their shoulder. "I-I'm really sorry." He repeated.

"... Nothing’s getting easier..." Simon whispered.

"No, it it isn’t..." He agreed. "... You'd think we would've earned a break at this point, huh?"

"You would think..." They agreed with a sigh. "... Well, while things are this difficult, if this 'Benny' shows his face you let me know so I can punch it."

He smiled just a little bit. "I will... Thanks."

"No problem... You don't even have to tell me why." They said quietly.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "... Is there someone I should keep my eyes out for?" He asked. "So I can return the favor?"

Their grip tightened around him. "Roderick. You see that bastard you can punch him as hard as you like."

"Gladly." He muttered with a small nod.

"It's a deal then." They said.

"A deal.” He agreed. “… Can we sit down? I had to do a lot of walking and I’m kind of worn out...”

“I’m not surprised, it’s awfully late.” They said, edging over to sit on the foot of their bed.

“… Wait, it is?” He asked, pulling away.

“… Yeah, Toda, it’s like, 10. Dude, it’s dark out and it’s summer, what time did you think it was?”

“I dunno, 6? 6:30?” He said, feeling his cheeks flush.

Simon slowly put one palm on their face. “Did you even set up a ride home? The trains are going to close soon.”

“… I forgot to tell my mom I was leaving.” He admitted.

Their other hand joined the first. "… Okay, I can ask my Mom if she'll drive you home-" They broke off for a long moment. "... You're probably not going to be comfortable with that."

"... Not really." He said, breaking off eye contact, sure his ears were flushed by now.

“How about I ask mom and dad if you can sleep over, and then we play some video games downstairs?

He smiled at that, nodding “Yeah… I need to call my parents too.”

They smiled. “Okay, meet me downstairs soon.” They said,

He nodded, absently adjusting his cap as he watched them go… They were still so cute…

After a moment he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “… Hey dad, it’s Toda. Can I stay the night at Simon’s house?”

THUD

Toda sat up with a snort, rubbing one of his eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Of course it's still a problem!" Jill was shouting.

"Shhh! Keep it down! He's still sleeping!" Simon replied.

"And already it's all about him!" She snapped.

Oh no. He remembered now. He’d spent the night at Simon’s house, after coming over to apologize… apparently there was still friction between the twins however… He grabbed his squidvader cap and started to put it on.

"It's not all about him! What's this 'it' you keep talking about anyway!?" Simon snapped, he could hear them pacing outside.

"I... I don't know, but.. This isn't working!" Jill replied.

"No SHIT. But I'm not just going to sit here while you yell at me for every mistake I've ever made." They said angrily.

"Maybe you should apologize for once!" She huffed.

His hearts sank a little. “Oh no...” He abandoned tucking all his tentacles into his hat and stood, quickly making his way to the door.

"I thought this might be the one time you'd be ok with it!" They exclaimed.

"You broke your promise!" She said.

"Ok, First off, We shouldn't be having this argument right now, and second of all, I thought you /liked/ Toda!"

"I do!! I do! He's the nicest kid you've ever dated. But I'm tired of you being so selfish and hypocritical!"

"Hypocritical? How am I-"

"You talk about how you want to be just like mom, just as good as mom. But when it comes down to it, you /have/ to have me with you, and you only use our squad as a dating device!" Jill shouted. “None of us deserve that!”

Toda flung open the door and peeked out, having to use one hand to hold his hat on. Both Jill and Simon turned to look at him, looking rather embarrassed.

“… Hey Toda~” Jill said, tone cheerful, but posture anything but.

“… Sorry.” Simon said, looking away.

"... It's okay." He mumbled, still a little bit groggy. He looked between the two of them… they were both obviously upset… He was never good at helping during something like this, that was what Bato was good at… Right, be like Bato. He squared his shoulders, then stepped up and put a hand on Jill’s shoulder. “It’s… okay to be upset.”

“Upset? I’m more than upset!” She said, pulling away from him. “I’m furious!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Simon huffed. “We should just leave it.”

“Leave what, the squad!?” She snapped. "You'd probably LIKE that! You can just as easily find a cute and/or muscular and dumb boy to replace me by tomorrow!"

"Jill!"

Toda flinched a little bit at her tone, pressing himself up against the wall. "Jill… Can you maybe take a deep--”

"ADMIT IT! YOU DON'T WANT ME!!!" She interrupted.

"YES! I! DO!!!" Simon snapped back.

"BULLSHIT!!!" She screamed. YOU LIED ABOUT DATING TODA, YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T USE OUR SQUAD FOR DATING AGAIN, ALL YOU DO IS LIE LIE LIE!"

“Jill I--” Toda tried to cut in.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!!!" They screamed back.

“Simon---” He tried again.

"YOU ALSO LIED ABOUT THE AGENT THING!!” Jill screeched.

"I-I DIDN'T LIE, I JUST DIDN'T TELL YOU!!!" Simon hollered, slightly wavering.

“ENOUGH!” Toda snapped, flushing with embarrassment. “… Sorry, I… You’re not going to get anywhere if you keep screaming at each other! Jill, what’s really wrong?”

Jill was silent a long moment. “… I… I’m lonely, and I’m worried I’m going to lose Simon to you…”

Toda’s ears drooped. “I’m not trying to take them away… I’m sorry you felt that way...” He slowly looked at Simon. “… Simon, what about you? What’s wrong?”

They looked at him a long moment, then sighed. “… I… I’m scared I’m going to lose you too Jill, but… I’m scared that if we get involved, we’ll.. die. It’s dangerous out there, and I don’t want you to be left without me, or to be without you, or both of us to be gone, and our parents are left in a ruined house all by themselves...”

Jill was quiet for a long moment. “… So you aren’t… just scared of me being hurt?”

They shook their head. “No, of course not. I’ve been hurt out there just as easily…” They sighed. “I’m sorry, for… saying that you were weak once… I didn’t know it had stuck with you and I didn’t know just how much I’d hurt you. You’re not weak, and trust me, I’ll never say you are again. You’re stronger than me in a lot of ways.”

She paused, then huffed. “No I’m not...”

“Yes you are.” Simon pressed. “You’re stronger in will and in joy, and… maybe physically, I’m not sure.”

She started laughing, then wiped at her eye before holding out her hand, palm down. “To Splattershot Sundae.”

They smirked, and put their hand on top of hers. “To Splattershot Sundae.”

“To Splattershot Sundae.” Toda agreed, putting his hand on top of theirs.

There was a long pause, then Jill put her other hand on top and spoke in a deep voice. “I’m Bato and I’m totally here.”

Toda laughed. “Dear Judd, that’s spot on.”

"... We good Jill?" Simon asked.

"We're much better. I'll... Try to talk with you if something comes up, rather than just blow up." She said awkwardly.

“I would appreciate that.” They huffed. “… Hey, where’s mom and dad, they hate it when we fight.”

Jill got a gleam in her eye. “Mom got… /the call/”

Simon’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

"... The call?" Toda asked, glancing between the two of them with a confused look.

"The call's just what we call it when Mom suddenly gets dragged in to more work, but she can't legally tell us what it is." Simon explained. "But in this case that's good news… perhaps a battle’s around the corner."

He smiled. “Oooo, that is good news!”

"And then Dad's off to regular work." Jill asked.

"Seems we've got the house entirely to ourselves." Simon shrugged. "As well as the burden to make breakfast, I think."

Toda's stomach growled a little bit at the mention of breakfast and he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jill giggled. "It seems like a cereal morning to me!” She said, then sprinted down the hall. “Better come after me quick or I’ll put ice cream on it!”

“Jill, no!” Simon yelped, running after her.

Toda laughed and ran after them, letting himself smile.

Toda is Knitter’s character.

Simon and Jill are Shuckle’s characters.

Splatoon belongs to Nintendo.

Please consider liking or reblogging if you enjoyed, it’s nice to know we’re doing things right.

Shuckle has a patreon if you would like to provide additional support!

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#Splatoon #Nintendo #inkling #inkling oc #splatoon fanfiction #SS Simon #SS Jill #SS Toda

[5hfanfiction]

coming out (six) ⇾ camren

Authors Note: HI GUYS! I’m really sorry for being so shitty in keeping up with this book, a lot has been happening lately. My fiancée’s father died about two weeks after New Years and she’s been really torn about that because we are still arranging dates for our wedding and she was really excited for him to walk her down the aisle and be the first daughter of his to get married but everything happened so fast.

He had a seizure at dinner, ambulance and everything came, it was very sudden. Basically at the hospital they tell us that he has a basically inoperable brain tumor which none of us knew of. He’s been complaining about sharp pains and headaches for basically all of 2016 and we’ve all been urging him to go and have it checked out but he hates hospital more than anything and absolutely refused. The tumor was intact cancerous. He was placed in the hospital overnight for many nights and it basically got worse and worse each day. He had a series of seizures the night he died.

I’ve taken a break from writing to be there not only for my fiancée and her family, but for myself as well. Her dad was pretty much my dad in my eyes. If you haven’t already known, I’ve been in and out foster care systems for a big portion of my life because both parents had died due to drug addiction. I was in fact adopted later on in my life and I have the worlds best adoptive parents who are pretty much my own parents even if we don’t have the same blood but her father was there for me when my adoptive father wasn’t. He travels a lot and was gone for so much that i pretty much only had my adoptive mother to rely on as a parent figure until I met my fiancée and her dad. So when he died, it took a toll on me as well.

I focused mainly on reading and kind of chose to forget writing for a little while. This week my fiancée is in Canada going over funeral arrangements with her mother and other extended family and I’m home alone basically so I’ve found some spare time and decided to start this series up again considering it doesn’t have many chapters left since it is a short series. Its basically a one shot with many parts so I decided to give it a go again.

I’m really sorry though for being so M.I.A. I promise to update as much as I can, as I said before I’m ready to start some new fanfics and I can’t wait to share those with you.

I’m not usually one to share all my personal problems for fear of coming off attention seeking but you know what, fuck it. I kind of feel like you guys deserve an explanation. I’ve gotten many dms asking me to continue so here I am.

Also, TODAY IS MY 20TH BIRTHDAY! Its also the one year anniversary of me asking my fiancée to be my fiancée lmao. Hopefully we can get married for real though this fall when everything simmers down. But wow, I am no longer in my teens. I’m an adult dammit. Lmfao.

Anyways, enjoy this chapter and thank you for those of you who didn’t remove this story from your library.

Camila|

Watching Lauren walk away from her was almost harder than feeling herself walk away from Lauren. Her chest felt tight as her eyes sprang with tears. If only she’d let me explain…

Sighing softly to herself, she retreated back to find Lola as her attempt to slowly begin to mend things with her former band mate had failed miserably.

Coming to a stop in front of her girlfriend, Camila sighed. Her head throbbed the minute the girl had opened her mouth, “Why’d you chase after her?” Lola asked immediately.

“I just wanted to see how she was doing Lo-” she cut herself off. Lo was Lauren’s nickname. “Lola.”

The hazel eyed girl huffed as she pouted her lips slightly, “You don’t still have that stupid… Camren thing with her, right?” She asked. “I mean, I’m not really sure why that was even a thing. You’re way out of her league. She’s like a negative two hundred on the scale,” she scoffed.

Camila ground her teeth together as she looked down. Lola really knew how to piss someone off. “Lets go home,” she mumbled. She didn’t have time to deal with her shit.

Lauren|

Its been two days since she last ran into Camila. Its been two days since she was reminded of all that went wrong in her life. Seeing the successful singer made Lauren’s blood boil but heart throb all at once. She didn’t understand anything her body was telling her. All that was the least bit comprehendible was that Camila was bad news and Lauren stayed away from bad news no matter what.

She sighed softly to herself as she stood from her and Lucy’s bed. Lucy had gone off for coffee with an old friend Lauren didn’t know of until about a week ago but she didn’t question it. Lucy wasn’t obligated to share everything with her.

She has the day off and wasn’t really sure what to do with it. Normally she’d be spending it with Lucy but that was clearly out of the picture.

She stretched, hearing her back pop with several satisfying cracks before making her way up to her dresser to check her phone. She had the usual several too many text messages from friends but the unknown number caught her eye. She raised an eyebrow as she read the message. It was a simple “hey” to which she replied with a “Who is this” she grabbed her phone as she made her way into the kitchen, reading over the rest of her messages and replying to a few every now and then, being sure not to open the ones she didn’t want to reply to.

The moment she entered the kitchen, her phone vibrated in her hand. The unknown number. Her stomach dropped at the next words, “it’s Camila” she thought she may have misread as she blinked a few times. Seconds later, the bubble with three dots appeared indicating her former bandmate was typing.

C: dinah gave me this number

L: What the hell do you want Camila

Her blood boiled and heart pounded as Camila began typing. Didn’t she get the memo the last time they ran into each other? She wants nothing to do with her! She tapped her fingernails impatiently on the kitchen counter as she waited for the next message. Her anxiety was going through the roof. What was she writing? A college essay?

C: i dont want to fight with you lauren. I just want to explain. ive explained to everyone but you. please just give me the chance to tell you things my way and if it still isn’t enough, i’ll leave you alone forever. i promise.

Lauren reread the message over and over, her eyes burning from never blinking. This couldn’t be real. A small chuckle of annoyance fell from her lips as she began typing out her simple reply.

L: You can shove your explanation up your ass.

Her heart twitched as she hit send. She ignored the guilt from her sudden outburst of harshness and forced herself to prepare for anything Camila threw at her when the three dots in a bubble popped back up. What she read next shocked her. She expected old Camila. She expected Camila to be a bitch back at her. But she wasn’t.

C: okay. but if you happen to change your mind, i’ll be doing a little fundraiser for women’s right and lgbt rights in Miami Beach from 10am-6pm. ive invited the girls. mani, dinah and ally will be there. i heard you were with lucy, feel free to invite her as well. im really sorry for everything lo and i hope you can forgive me someday. have a good rest of the day.

Camila|

She willed the tears to go away as she hit send and threw her phone across the table. She never knew why even the thought of Lauren brought so much emotion into her. She could feel her ex bandmate’s eyes on her. It was silent for awhile before Dinah reached across from her to pick up the disregarded phone. Camila sat in silence as she read over the short conversation.

“She’ll come,” she finally said.

Camila looked up, a long sigh escaping her lips as she struggled to compose herself. “I doubt it,” she mumbled quietly.

Dinah shook her head, “She’ll come. Deep down, under all that hate and hurt, she still cares Mila. I promise,” the blonde haired girl sent her best friend a small smile.

Camila nodded, her face contorting into weird different expressions as she tried not to cry. She’s been doing that a lot lately and she wasn’t up for ruining her makeup the fourth time that week.

“So how are things with Lola?” Dinah asked.

Camila laughed, shaking her head. She didn’t even know what to say as she rolled her eyes over and over. She probably looked possessed. “I don’t even know why I’m dating her anymore Dinah,” she said truthfully.

“Just dump her,”

“I can’t,”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like hurting people,”

“You had a fine job doing that when you left the group,” silence fell upon them. Camila looked down at her lap, Dinah shaking her head. The blonde sighed softly, “I didn’t mean that Mi-”

“Its fine,” Camila said as she cut her off. “Lets just, lets just get ready for the fundraiser.”

***

Disappointment. That’s what Camila felt as she watched the last man pack up their belongings for the fundraiser. It was going on 8pm, it had gone a little over time with how many people had showed up, Camila was truly amazed. She loved every minute of it, meeting fans all while helping spread awareness on both women rights and LGBT rights but she couldn’t help the overall sadness as it came to an end. Lauren didn’t show up. She even had two guards waiting up front in case she did show up to escort her over. Nothing happened.

It was really hard for her to be happy in such an amazing environment when the one person she was hoping with everything in her to show up, didn’t show up.

Lauren|

“Babe you should go,” Lucy encouraged as she sat up slightly from the couch.

Lauren shook her head, walking over to her girlfriend a bowl of warm soup. “You’re not feeling well. I don’t have to go to the stupid fundraiser,” she mumbled.

Lucy gave Lauren a look as she accepted the soup, “First of all, you love fundraisers that tie down to those specific matters and you know it. Just last week you were saying how you wished it happened more often. Plus Fifth Harmony will basically be reuniting for the first time as a group in a while.”

Rolling her eyes, Lauren plopped down next to Lucy. Playing with the ring on her thumb she sighed loudly, “Why do you even care so much? You do know Camila invited me, right? You don’t really like her,” pausing she glanced at her girlfriend. “Besides, who’ll take care of you while I’m gone? The stupid thing is over anyways. She said it ended at 6 PM. Its like 7:45 now.”

“I don’t not like her. I just wasn’t fond of what she had done to the group,” Lucy shrugged. “And so? Weren’t you the one social media stalking her and saw she was spamming on Snapchat with videos just from like five minutes ago?” Lucy raised a knowing eyebrow at her girlfriend. “I can invite Kandee over if it’ll make you feel better about who’ll take care of me.” Kandee was Lucy’s longtime friend Lauren had recently learned about.

She sighed to herself as she thought over it, “What if it goes bad?” She mumbled quietly.

“She’s just asking you to hear her out, right? If you don’t like what she has to say, just leave,” Lucy reached over to rub her finger tips up and down her girlfriends arm, “It’ll all go good baby. I promise.”

***

This was a mistake. Lauren could feel it as she approached the empty area. I bet she’s gone. God I’m such an idiot. It was around 8 PM and the place was pretty much a ghost land. She saw a few people left but that was it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stopped in front of the location Camila had texted her.

There stood a man who had his back turned toward her with “SECURITY” writing in big white letters on his black T-Shirt.

Clearing her throats softly, she proceeded to tap him on the shoulder. The man sighed before turning around. “Ma'am this even is over please-” the man paused himself before eyes widening. “I am so sorry Miss. Follow me this way,” Lauren felt confusion settle within her as she followed the man through the black curtains. Something in her told her not to, it could be a trap but she ignored it. She was always unnecessarily paranoid. “Miss Cabello!” The man shouted.

The ashy brown haired woman turned around, along with three other obviously familiar faces. A sense of nervousness washed over Lauren as the room went silent for a few seconds before an overly excited Ally ran straight toward her former bandmate along with Dinah and Normani. She felt overwhelmed with happiness as the three women bombarded her with questions and hugs. A couple years escaped her eyes. It felt so good to be in their presence again. But everything went just as fast as it came.

Suddenly they all realized the reasoning behind them all being there and a silent Camila. Pulling apart from each other, Normani spoke first. “We’ll give you guys some space.”

By then, the security guard had already left and the three ladies had found their way out. Lauren’s heart pounded as she took in Camila’s overall presence. The whole situation felt even more overwhelming as her former bandmate directed her toward a set of chairs to sit down. It was silent between them for quite some time, neither really knowing how to start off.

“I didn’t think you’d show,” Camila breathed out, deciding to speak first.

Lauren pursed her lips, looking down for a second then back up with a small head nod. “I wasn’t,” she answered honestly. “Lucy made me.”

She didn’t miss the small twinge of hurt in Camila’s features but tried her best to brush it all off. “You look nice,” Camila then said.

Lauren sighed, rolling her eyes. “Thank you but I didn’t exactly come to be complimented. I’m here for my explain so I can be on my way back to my perfectly unproblematic life,” she didn’t mean to come off so harsh. It kind of just happened and she did regret it when Camila paused and every feature in her face twisted into one of pain before looking down and clearing her throat.

“Okay,” she croaked. “Where do you want me to start?”

“The beginning. Why you left, why you feel I should pity you in anyway, etc.”

Camila clenched her jaw, “I don’t need your pity Lauren, that’s one,” sighing, she looked down as she attempted to collect her currently scattered thoughts.

“I left because I couldn’t do it anymore,” she started. “It was a decision I had already planned for months before the day I left. I left mainly because of you though,” she kept her eyes down as she felt herself relive those few earlier months. “You weren’t happy with me in the group. I could feel it, the fans could feel it, everyone could. It was like days that I wasn’t there, you shined the most. You seemed the happiest and most carefree. Obviously me being there was taking that away. My intentions weren’t to break the group as a whole, no. I was hoping if things played out well, you guys would continue as a foursome. I didn’t mean to fuck up everyone’s lives, I swear Lauren.”

“I couldn’t do it anymore. Not even just with you, I was taking away everyone else’s happiness. Normani wouldn’t, hell couldn’t even look at me off camera. Ally was always torn on who to side with, at one point she even hated me. I was breaking Dinah’s relationship with everyone in the group because I’d always make her feel obligated to be on my side. I was fucking it all up. I wasn’t happy anymore in it… you guys weren’t happy anymore with me in it. My solo music started to take off, everything was screaming at me to get out. So I did.”

“I didn’t mean for everything to go downhill so fast. I didn’t want you guys to find out the way you found out. But life has a fucked up way of playing out for you-”

“That doesn’t answer shit Camila. So basically you’re new skit is, you left the group for our happiness? My god you are full of so much shit,” Lauren laughed humorlessly as she stood up. “You left because you’re a selfish self absorbed idiotic fucking cunt who cared more about fame than the actual fucking gr-”

“I left because I was in love with you! Okay, I fucking left because I was in love with you Lauren!”

Everything went silent, Lauren stopped, Camila stopped, the girls who were eavesdropping behind the curtain even stopped. The atmosphere suddenly felt thick and heart to breathe in. Lauren sat back down and stared at Camila in disbelief.

Camila gulped harshly as the tears started to come, “I couldn’t take it anymore Lauren. I couldn’t. I couldn’t take knowing every fucking day you hated me, our friendship would never ever be the same. I could handle you not feeling the same, I could handle keeping it a secret forever. But I couldn’t handle knowing you hated me so fucking much. I couldn’t handle it. When you came out, and I was a complete bitch to you about it, it was like everything got worse. Your hate for me grew, everything was just a mess. Imagine… being head over heels in love with someone who hates you more than life itself but you have to work with them every fucking day. Imagine it.”

“I wasn’t fucking happy. I was sad, everyday, every night. My life was just sadness. And I hated that, because I loved what we did so fucking much. I loved making music with my best friends. I loved the fans. I loved everyone and everything. So basically feeling trapped and miserable was the worst thing ever for me. I’m sorry Lauren, I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me as a friend, I’m sorry for putting a stupid solo career before our friendship, I’m sorry for putting anyone and everyone before you. My intentions were never to hurt you. You’ve always been one of my closest friends and to watch you grow such an intense amount of hate for me killed me. I wanted out, I needed out.”

She finished with a face full of tears and a shocked and frozen Lauren just staring back at her. Neither women knew what to say as the tension got thicker and thicker.

All Camila could think about was how she possibly fucked things up the most in this moment and there was no ever going back.

***

a/n: wow i actually cried writing this last part. damn. lol, im so sorry i did not edit. im really tired and im about to go out with friends for my birthday but i hope you enjoyed this over due chapter. i love you lots and thanks so much for reading.

to my tumblr readers, make sure to check out my wattpad @wthbello for faster updates and overall better reading format lmao. thanks so much for reading as well.

have an amazing night/day/afternoon, etc. wherever you are. make sure to always be kind to yourselves and always love yourselves because if you don’t, i can assure you no one else will. no one can love you better than you can love you. with that being said, i hope you enjoyed this chapter lmao.

ellianna (elli), xxxxxxxxxxxx

#UPDATE #series #non AU #AU #slash #camren #angst drama #romance fluff #submission #coming out

[thathumanwiththecatears]

i typed this earlier and then just shoved it into my drafts because i didnt get out everything i wanted to and got busy. i decided i just wouldnt post it, except now im really pissed because of what my mom did today, which i will be tacking on to the end :)

I should have been expecting this, it happens every fucking time, i hoped this time would be different, but why would it. They stiffed me on my check from working the golf tournament and i was only paid for 10 hours, that was one of the worst days of this year for me, i hated it the whole time and had panic attacks and just wanted to go home because i wasnt stable, i fucking earned that money, but guess what, not only did i not get all the money i worked for, i didnt get ANY of the money.

Yet again my mother has stolen my paycheck, i went home last weekend, we agreed she would use it to buy me my laptop on thursday, so i signed it so she could cash it while i was at school. She spent it. And not on my laptop. I will not be getting a new laptop this week, it probably next week, or probably ever. And there is nothing i can do about it. She is manipulative, all i could do is demand my money, and that will either just start a fight that will just be all against me and i wont have anything at all, or it will just lead to her talking her way out if it leaving me with nothing again.

I cant fucking get away from her, im not even living at hone and she stukk manages to steal everything from me. The only way i can think of to be able to get away from it is to get money, but i cant get money, because to get money i have to have money, i dont have a bank account, i cant get one because i dont have an id, i cant get an id because i dont have money. Im trapped. And if i did manage to get away the amount of backlash i would get would be awful, my mom already uses guilt to control me, i dont really want to find out what would happen if i actively tried to get away, she will blame herself, and make me feel guilty, and just manipulate me. she makes everything about her, even when she forced me to go to therapy, where i wouldnt talk because the cause of everything /her/ would go in with me and sit next to me, she would talk, i would have to sit there for an hour screaming min my head about everything as she cried to my therapist. i admitted i wanted to die once and she cried about how she was a terrible mother until i had to be the one to comfort her. I, a child, who wanted to die, had to comfort my mother, because she said she felt like a bad mom because i wanted to die :)

so here is the new part

and so now, she told me that she didnt have the money because she had to buy oil, which i would understand,,,, IF SHE DIDNT GO TO A FUCKING CHRISTMAS SPECIALTY STORE AND BUY A FUCK TON OF SHIT TODAY. like how the fuck you gonna cry to me about money and then go off and spend a fuck ton of it on stupid shit you dont need and literally even if you /did/ you wouldnt need it for 2 fucking months. we have fucking 4 christmas trees, 4, and all of them get put up, we never have heat all winter, but at least we have plastic christmas trees. 

ALSO  she fucking messages me, and not only did she steal my money, she also wants to steal my fucking car, my car, because her breaks are broken, so she wants me to put my car on the road, but you see, i cant fucking drive, and while yeah, putting my car on the road will make it so that i /can/ learn how to drive, do i really think i will ever get that car back? NO you know who told me this would happen? my dad, im supposed to get $400 a month from my dad, you know where that goes? take a guess, nothing is mine, im not allowed to have anything, im not allowed to get a job, im not allowed to drive, im not allowed to even keep my own money. i hate this so much. 

#long post #i cant believe i still have doubts that i have an abusive mother #i still dont want to believe it #i still feel like i blow things out of proportion #but when i put down facts and just facts #it is still so blatantly obvious #and yet i still feel bad for her #so like #suicide mention

[exojourner-blog]

I was a month too late.

Im not sure if anyone read my first post or if anyone will read this one or any thereafter. This is simply therapeutic for me, but if it helps somebody else, God be praised.

I admitted in my last post that i have decided to give up sex for lent and hopefully for good. I found out yesterday that i was a month too late in making that decision. See, im 5 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I haven't even said the p word out loud.

It didn't even occur to me that it was a possibility. My period is always a bit late and i was having what i thought were "warning cramps" which i get every month. After a week of these cramps along with tender breasts i googled "cramps no period" and the first suggestion was pregnancy. I dismissed it until i checked my period tracker and saw that i was 8 days late. I decided to buy a test on my way to work the next morning. It was a 2pack. Im a teacher. I took the test before my first class and got an error message. I didn't get another break until lunch several hours later, and i took the second test fully expecting a negtive. When i saw yes+ appear on the screen i nearly fainted. I didn't have time to panic though because my lunch was over, i had another class to teach and a meeting to conduct after that. Before i began teaching my next class i ducked into my classroom closet and called some pregnancy resource centers as well as a place i never thought id call- planned parenthood. I made an appointment for a test at a pregnancy resource center after school. Then i pulled it together and taught my students.

After school i rushed over to the pregnancy resource center. I parked at the shopping center near by because i didn't want anybody i knew to drive by and recognize my car at the resource center. I ran in and quickly signed in. Once i was seated and waiting, everything i felt came flooding to the surface.

Principle among my feelings was shame. I am a single, professional, educated, Christian woman and a leader in my church. I am NOT supposed to be having sex much more turning up pregnant! And to make matters worse i was not entirely sure who the father was between two men. I had been seeing someone new and had a few romps with my "special friend" as well. Thirdly, im the youngest of my siblings, my parents pride and joy, the absolute apple of my dad's eye. My parents are ALWAYS and i mean ALWAYS bragging on me. Every time i meet their coworkers or friends the first thing i hear is "your mom/dad is SO proud of you... he/she talks about you ALL the time". Admittedly, ive accomplished alot in my 27 (almost 28) years of life. My parents would be absolutely crushed, hurt and mortified by this... their youngest child, the only one who has never let them down.. pregnant and single. Another feeling was regret. I regret that i ever became sexually active, that i became "uncharacteristically premiscuous", and that i had been careless enough to get pregnant. The other prominent feeling was fear. I had no idea what to think, what to do, what to say or anything. I was completely at a loss. All i could do was cry as the kind lady led me to a room to begin the consult.

I took the test and prayed that it was negative. I had semi-pulled myself together and told the woman some of my story as she was filling me in on womans right to know and all that stuff. When the nurse came in to inform me that i was 5 weeks 4 days and showed it to me in writing, i lost it again. I was so devastated even the kind lady was crying with me. I was able to go back through my text communication with both possible fathers and determine which one it was. I remembered instantly the conception.

Another source of my shame is that i had already pretty much decided on abortion by medication. I grew up partially evangelical so naturally i considered myself "pro life" for the most part unless a woman was victim of incest or rape. But now, finding myself in a situation i NEVER thought i would face- scared, ashamed and pregnant by a man i know i cant rely on, has 4 kids and i don't want to be tied to for the rest of my life- i felt my only option was abortion. The kind lady mentioned adoption but i told her if i went through with the process of carrying it to term there would be no way possible for me to give it up. She talked, cried and prayed with me some more and scheduled me for an ultrasound in a few weeks.

Im im school again, so i had to pull it together again and get to my evening classes. After class i called on a dear and close sister im Christ whose situation is much like mine. She is a young single educated black woman who is also a leader in the church. I told her everything because i know i can trust her and she would not judge me. She empathized with me and said that she would feel the same and do the same thing. She encouraged me not to beat myself up, not to be ashamed of what led me here or what i planned to do. She lives out of state but made me promise to let her know when i would have the procedure so that if she could come she would, and if not she could at least call and check in on me.

I decided not to tell the father. I attempted to contact him via text a few times yesterday and got no response. I did contact another older sister in tbe faith who lives here because i felt she would understand. It had to be God leading me to call her because she was not only understanding and nonjudgmental, she had gone through the same thing in her past.

The most difficult part so far was going home to stay at my parents house last night and keeping this to myself the entire time. In the short time i was home i met some coworkers of my mom's today and i heard "she talks about you all the time. She's SO proud of you!" Then I overheard my dad bragging about me to a couple of people he had just met. This all happened at one event we attended together today. I left to go home this evening and i was SO tempted to tell my mom, but i knew it would do far more damage than it was worth. Maybe one day I'll tell her, but my current thought is that this is something I'll take to my grave.

As soon as PP opened today, i excused myself from the event i was attending to step outside and call to schedule my appointment. Since yesterday i have been researching natural and medicational abortion methods. I admit i even spent 30 bucks at the health food store yesterday buying papaya and pineapple juice, vitamins and herbs that allegedly could cause a natural abortion, but after 4 weeks along, the suggested regimen is virtually ineffective. So im going with physican supervised, medicational abortion.

Here are my reasons for ending this pregnancy (more for my own decision making process than for you to understand):

1. Im not ready for a baby yet

2. I do not want to share/raise a child with this man

3. I don't want to break my parents' hearts

4. I do not want to endure the public scandal that is 100% guaranteed by this pregnancy should anyone besides the 2 sisters I've told.

My reasons may seem selfish, but they're mine, and they are legitimate reasons. It simply would not be fair to force a child to come when it was not wanted. I would never hurt or neglect child especially my own. But when i have a baby, i want it to be because i want it, not because i was stupid.

I have been researching constantly, about the pill process, about the physical, mental and spiritual impact of having an abortion. I know that i may regret it. I know that i may live with guilt, but this is all a result of my bad choices and i alone will suffer and live with my decision.

One thing is for certain, if i was in any way shaky in my resolve to become abatinate again, i am now fortified in the decision. I need time to heal and recover and be restored by God. I have no need or desire for any type of male relationships now, casual or otherwise. I don't even want to think about or look at a penis for at least the next 5 years.

#christianity #abortion #pro choice #pro life #decisions #lent #my story