#NO JUDGEMENT about anything here. we all want to suck on a pacifier for a bit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ffastoriesforfatties · 4 years ago

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Public stuffing

Standing in the mirror you start to observe your reflection packed into unbuttoned jeans when you hear the door slide open

You frantically try to suck in your recently expanding belly and you try to button your pants unsuccessfully. At that moment your partner Alice walks in seeing you in your pitiful state pants hanging open with a belly causing a divide of several inches in the gap. Your small boobs contained in a strained sports bra and nothing else to cover yourself. Alice obviously notices your embarrassment and goes in to tease

“Another outgrown pair piggy? You’re costing us a fortune...” she moved around behind you and pinched your multiplying back rolls, “why don’t we get you some food, here put on this shirt” Alice tossed you a once cute floral crop top that what certainly too tight, you feel your pussy getting wet as you refute the idea of the shirt

“This, this is tiny on me, it’s from when we first started dating” you whine

“I know fatty, that’s the point” she jiggled your gut “I’ll meet you in the car in 10, and you better be wearing exactly that” she winked and slipped away

You obediently put on the shirt and look at yourself. It came a couple inches down your gut, thankfully stretchy, but It required you to pull it down occasionally to keep it in place. The shirt was an off the shoulder cut with longer sleeves but the fabric cut into your shoulder fat and the sleeves made noticeable indents on your forearms. Looking down your pants were still unbuttoned so you grab a hair tie, wrap it around the button, and loop it through the hole and straining get it back over the button to make a makeshift close for your pants. You then grab your purse and walk out to the car

Alice is waiting in the car and you hop in, her grin widening as you approach the door, reaching its peak when you take a seat watching your belly expand.

“..This shirt is so tight on me babe..” you say as you play with the hem of the shirt which while you’re sitting was even higher up than before

“And look you can’t even see your pants are unbuttoned right now cause your gut covers it” Alice chuckled as you blush looking down at your dome shaped stomach remembering how flat and toned it once was.

In almost no time Alice pulls up to the local diner, and gets out standing in front of the car watching you struggle to get out of the seat, and then walked you inside

“Hey why don’t you sit down at a table and I’ll order” she winked and walked away as you went in the opposite direction towards the tables, feeling the stares of patrons eyes on your stomach hanging out of your shirt as you continuously get more and more turned on.

You plop your widening ass into a booth seat towards the back as you notice how close your belly is getting to touching the edge of the table when your back is all the way against the wall behind you. You sit and patiently wait for Alice to come back until you see her with a number for your food looking around for you.

You wave at her and when she catches sight of you she begins to walk back shaking her head laughing

“Oh really? A seat all the way back here? I don’t think so piggy, we’re getting front row seats for this meal, I want everyone to see you” Alice put out her hand and you take it as she try’s to help you up but your big bloated body has to heavingly scoot out of the booth. She walks you to a table in the middle of the seating area, front and center, this time a chair table so you’re visible from all angles. Alice pulls out a chair and you take it, sets the number on the counter space and takes the seat across from you

You notice a middle aged couple and their adolescent children about a table across from you, the parents eye you judgementally but keep to themselves. The only other patrons in the restaurant were a group of teenagers in a booth you spotted on your way over.

In very little time a waitress struggling under the weight of her tray was looking around for the table she was supposed to be delivering to, and kept looking at the families table until she realized you had the number and she approached confused.

“You’re #12 right?” Alice nodded for you

“Um alright,” she unloaded the tray onto your table and you turn bright red as you realize how much Alice ordered, you desperately try to thank the waitress as she leaves and she scoffs at you.

Alice not lifting a finger to grab anything to eat leans back and gives you a smug look and you realize she expects you to finish it all

You tentatively pick up a burger from the massive hoard of food in front of you and begin to eat it, slowly at first before realizing how good it is, and more importantly how hungry you are. Before you know it you’ve already eaten through 3 plates leaving your face covered in crumbs and sauces accumulating on your shirt from your reckless devouring.

Alice watching you with delight intermittently chiming in with benign small talk to fill the not so empty noise of you stuffing your face unable to control your hunger.

Licking off your fingers to get every last drop of food you go in on a club sandwhich, taking massive bites and drawing attention from the near by family, watching you in your pacified bloated body and getting judgemental glances at the already cleared plates.

You take a pause and catch your breath, wipe your hands on a napkin and notice the massive amount of food Alice bought was already dwindling, leaving a side of fries and half of a burger you didn’t completely finish from earlier as well as a coke. You grab said coke and wash down the food you’ve already eaten and let out an unintentional blelch, and quickly cover your mouth blushing bright red. Then you realize you’re breathing like a literal pig, panting from nothing but eating and Alice notices

“Well look at that, you’re out of breath from eating...” she slides her foot up against your leg dorm under the table and smiles at you clearly amused by your piggish behavior

You put your hands on your belly and realize how full you are, and the fact that your belly is now pressed against the edge of the table and Alice chimes in again “I hope you know by now we’re not leaving until you’re all finished...” seeing your depleted stuffed state.

Taking a deep breath you slowly jam the rest of the burger into your mouth leaving sauce and meat juices dripping from your mouth and take another long sip from the coke before dutifully finishing off the fries and finally leaning back in your chair exposing your entire belly to the world

“I’ll be right back, you can head on back to the car love” Alice said and once again walked away

Just then still in your leaned back position a kid no older than 10 from the table over says “Mommy she looks like the seals we saw at the zoo yesterday!” And an older sibling of the kid quietly pitches in with “nah I’d say she’s more like a pig” before snickering

“Austin! Jeremiah! That’s rude!” Their mother scolds them while their dad just laughs along with them

You decide to start on your way back to the car, and you take off your pants rubber band because it is far to tight now and heave your bloated body upwards stretching infront of the family and letting your massive gut hang out before again completely unintentionally letting out a massive burp and covering your mouth in shame as the family stares in judgement.

“You’d think you’d have a little shame good lord” the mom whispered upset her breath as she ushered her children out of the restaurant.

You’re slightly embarrassed but oh so turned on, you walk towards the door, needing to stop and take a breath, before proceeding to the car belly hanging a foot out in front of you like a bumper.

You realize your car is parked very close to someone else and realize you have to shimmy between them to get to the door.

You sigh and you press your ass against your car and your belly against the adjacent car and slide in until mortified, you realise, with your belly sandwiched right against the window, a teenager and his friends are in the car you’re pressed up against. Their shocked faces start at you until one of them rolls down a window

“Yo fatass get your stomach off my car” he said

You stumbling over your words frantically apologize, and scoot towards your door sucking in as much as possible and finally managing to open your door and painfully squeeze in and heavily seat yourself before the teenagers begin to drive off but not before yelling

“Why don’t you try to loose some weight piggy” followed by oinking noises. You sigh and lean back thankful to be done with that when you look up to see Alice holding a bag laughing, and you realize she saw that entire interaction

“Loose some weight fatty, teenagers right” Alice teased poking your bloated belly “that was a sight to see, could you really only get to the car by sliding like that? you really are getting big, I’ll have to start parking away from other cars” she smiled and started unpacking the bag she had. She pulled out a milkshake and some brownie lava cakes

“Oh no Alice look at my belly! I can’t eat that” you beg feeling your very stuffed gut like a bowling ball in your lap.

“Alright I guess I’ll just have to eat it myself then...” Alice waved the lava cake around letting you smell it, making your mouth drool thinking about the warm chocolate my goodness even though you just ate enough for a family when Alice pretending to start to take a bite before you object overwhelmed by your thoughts

“WAIT, ok ok ok nevermind I do want it, please can I have it?” You grovel before Alice leans your seat back and begins to feed you the cake interspersed with bites of milkshake until you had eaten the whole cake and half of the large shake. Alice puts the car in drive and takes you home as you lay back in the seat absolutely stuffed but still suckling on your milkshake in your food stained shirt exposing your round pale belly to the world.

“I must be the luckiest feeder in the world cause you’re an excellent pig.. I’ve been tracking your calories today and you ate 5,350 calories today, plus that shake I added body builder powder to which adds an extra 1,000 when you’re finished..” Alice chuckled as she parked the car in our driveway “Youre a perfect fatass you know?”

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onechicagorpf · 5 years ago

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Not A Stranger - Part 3

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med intern)

Waking up in bed next to a random naked guy after a drunken night out usually sucks, but eh, whatever. you’ll never see him again, right? Well except this time, random naked guy turns out to be your ED attending’s little brother, so maybe you’re a little bit screwed…

Read Part 1 here Read Part 2 here Read Part 4 here

Warnings: SMUT. A little bit of R-rated smut! Swearing, the usual cuss words. Some angst/PTSD, although it’s not overtly discussed. Dubious medical content (discussion of amputation & blood), some of which has been shamelessly lifted from a season 3 episode of Code Black!

A/N: So there’s definitely going to be a Part 4, lol! I’ll try and have it out by this time next week. Send me asks/messages/leave a note if you liked this and want to see more - it really makes me feel so much less insecure about my writing ahaha! Also do send me short prompts or requests that I can fill as blurbs (i.e. nothing that’s going to be a several chapter story - I will request those later on!) - preferably for Jay but I can do Will as well! Female!Halstead sibling is also okay :) Anyway enough talking, enjoy!

PS: I make mention of bearded Jay in this chapter; this gif is totally the version of him I had in my head for this chapter!

"Walter Holden. 16 years old, victim of an auto accident, came in with a dislocated right leg."

There's droplets of rain on the other side of the windows. It blurs the view - all of a sudden, the buildings you can usually see from the 13th floor of the hospital are just fuzzy, beige blocks.

"Preliminary exam showed no other major trauma, and his vital signs were strong. His leg just had to be reset."

A shudder goes down your spine - was the hospital's conference room always this cold? Well, you don't know - you've never been in here before.

"Dr Halstead advised 10 mil of morphine, but the patient refused pain medication, and the leg was reset. It was at this point that Dr Halstead handed the patient off to Dr Y/L/N, requesting her to evaluate his leg for blood flow."

There's been a strange tapping noise for the last 5 minutes, but only now do you realise it's your fingers against the oval, wooden table.

"Dr Y/L/N? Dr Y/L/N!" You snap out of your reverie and look up. Dr Lanik's glaring at you. You apologise. He takes his seat, next to Mrs Goodwin and Will, both of whom send you a soft smile that doesn't quite reach their eyes. They're trying to be reassuring, but it doesn't matter - you're ready to drown yourself.

Clearing your throat, you speak. "I was instructed to evaluate his right leg for blood flow. I did so by checking his pulses, uh, dorsalis pedis and posterior tibialis." You pause, as some of the other occupants in the conference room - all members of the board or lawyers, all wearing pristine suits and a cold, calculating expression - turned to look at each other.

You clear your throat again. "It was a uh, a textbook exam."

"I'm sorry, in which textbook does it say to check for an arterial injury by just palpating a pulse?" Dr Lanik cuts in sharp. Will closes his eyes, as you struggle to breath normally.

"90% of all patients - "

"I can't hear you, Dr Y/L/N." Dr Lanik's voice booms across the room, and Will's had it.

"This is ridiculous, there's no need to be intimidating her like this - she's a first year resident and - "

"And she was satisfied with a pulse check to evaluate blood flow? Do I need to remind everyone here that the acceptable course of action in this scenario is to order a doppler or an ABI? That boy's leg was sitting for ages without proper blood flow, and eventually the best we could do for him was amputate it."

Will shakes his head vehemently. "Pathology's looked over the leg - they determined that the severity of the accident combined with the amount of time it took CFD to extricate Holden from the car meant that his leg wasn't viable before he even stepped into the ED." Will turns to you, his eyes piercing as he spoke directly to you.

"There was nothing you could've done that would've changed the outcome. Nothing."

You take a deep breath. You don't nod.

"Alright, we've heard everything we need to hear." The head of the legal department says, after a few moments of discussion with the board members. "Given the findings from Pathology, we will not be terminating Dr Y/L/N's employment here at Chicago Med. However, we recommend that her OR privileges be revoked, and that she is attached to an attending for a duration of 2 months, by which point hopefully she will learn that not every case is a textbook case." She stares directly at you. "Dismissed." Chairs scrape against the floor as everyone makes their leave.

Will places his hand on your shoulder, and you realise you haven't moved even after everyone's left.

His voice is soft. "We all make mistakes. And - "

"I could've been the reason he lost his leg. If he'd come in with ample time to save the leg, and I just - and I just didn't realise it, I could've been the reason a kid had to lose a leg." There's tears in your eyes as you turn to look at Will, who just sighs.

"Yeah. But that's not what happened."

"I got lucky." You shrug, tears freely streaming down your face now. "I just got lucky."

Will doesn't say anything. He just hugs you.

***

It's not the kind of thing you just get over, you realise, because it's been 5 days since it happened but you can't get it out of your head. You've been barely getting any sleep; often you jerk awake in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning, after which it's next to impossible to fall asleep again. It's also affecting your work more than just making you tired - you keep second-guessing your medical judgements, deferring to Will or Natalie or Ethan for anything and everything. None of them bite at you for it, because they know what's going on and they know what you're going through, but some part of you wishes they would. Wishes that they'd just grab you by the shoulders and shake you, and say "Be a damn doctor."

Dr Charles met with you for lunch earlier today, and you lamented your troubles. The kind and thoughtful psychiatrist patiently listened, before giving you some wisdom you needed to hear. Amongst which was "find a distraction".

"You mean focus on something else?" You asked, chasing a watermelon cube at the bottom of your fruit cup.

"Yeah, but it's a little bit of a dangerous tactic. See, you don't want to distract yourself from dealing with the pain and the guilt you feel, because emotions don't tend to go away when you suppress them like that. But if you're having trouble processing it, it can be helpful to take your mind off of it for a while, wait til some time has passed and it's not so...intense. And maybe then it'll be easier to tackle and get over, y'know?" Dr Charles advised and you nodded, taking it in.

You think about what exactly you could do to distract yourself as you finish your shift and make your way towards your car in the parking lot.

Maybe I should take up painting?

The thought of yourself - little miss notoriously bad at anything artsy - trying to paint has you chuckling softly. You're about to give up on this whole distract yourself thing when, as if on cue, your phone buzzes with a text message. You get into your car, turn on the heating, and pull out your phone.

J.H. 11:32PM

So...guess who's back :)

You can't help the smile on your face. Jay's been undercover for the past week - it actually got started the next morning after the night you went over for "hockey". He'd gotten a text early in the morning asking him to come in, and so the two of you had actually barely spoken since...the festivities of that night.

You 11:33PM

Congrats, detective :)

J.H. 11:33PM

Wanna come over and help me celebrate?

Huh. Well maybe Dr Charles wasn't off-target with the whole "distract yourself" thing - although you're positive having meaningless sex is probably not one of the healthy methods of distraction that he was envisioning.

But quickly, you realise it doesn't matter - ever since what happened, you haven't been sleeping well at night. It's been close to 6 days and you're wrecked, so maybe some good, tires-you-out-completely sex is exactly what you need?

You 11:34PM

Be there in 15

J.H. 11:34PM

Can't wait :)

Your lips curve into a smile as you pull out of the parking lot and down into the main road.

***

"I've been waiting to do this...for so long..." Jay murmurs in your ear before pressing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. You tilt your head to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck to him.

“It’s only been…a couple ‘a days…” You reply softly, and you feel Jay’s huffs of soft laughter into your neck. You turn to look at him, pulling away. “What?”

There’s a teasing smile on his face. “Most women take it as a compliment if a guy says he hasn’t stopped thinking about her.”

You shake you head, putting on a teasing look, “Uh-uh, that’s not what you said, you said you’ve been wanting to do this – ”

“It was implied – ”

“It wasn’t implied and even if it was – ”

“It was implied and even if it wasn’t, that’s still a compliment.” Jay says pointedly, a huge grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to hide the growing smile on your face. He chuckles, seeing right through you.

You smack his arm. “You keep laughing at me in bed and I’m gonna get mad.” This gets Jay full-on laughing, and your jaw drops in pretend-outrage. “You fucking – ”

“No, no, no c’mere – ” Jay pacifies you, leaning over you, arms on either side of you as he starts to kiss your face, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. But there’s still the slightest smile pulling up the corners of his lips, and when he presses them to your lips, you can’t help but laugh into the kiss. Jay reaches up and holds your face, the kiss becoming soft, loving, drawn-out, and some feeling deep in your core tells you you’re just…somewhere else right now. You don’t know how to describe it, other than that everything in this moment feels perfect, feels right.

A shiver goes down your spine, and maybe it’s because Jay’s shifted, and is now sucking a spot on the base of your neck, hard and strong and deep, and his hands are skimming downwards, unbuttoning your soft cotton top before unzipping your jeans. And maybe it’s because you don’t know what the fuck you are doing here, with him, with all of this. You think about how wrong this is, how bad this is, how his brother’s your boss and this was just supposed to be one drunken hookup and then it became two (except you weren’t even drunk that time) and now it’s about to become three –

“Y/N?” Jay calls softly, and you look at him – his hands resting gently over the hem of your panties, his face hovering over the space between your legs, and the look of…almost reverence in his shining green eyes.

You stop thinking.

Your hands reach downward, sliding your panties off and Jay eagerly helps, getting them off completely. Just like last time, Jay draws out the foreplay – kissing, licking, and nipping at the skin of your inner thighs, making the heat in your core build. Running your fingers through his dark hair, you yank it a little to get him to get going, and he pinches your hip – a quick slap of the wrist. Laughing, you repeat the action, pulling on his hair, and he groans.

“You’re real impatient, you know?”

“Jayyyyyyyy,” You whine, pouting down at him. He’s got this look of a predator – a confident, cocky smile on his face. Jay dips his head down, his mouth making contact with your cunt.

“There we go,” You murmur, gasping as you feel his hot breath on your most sensitive regions. Jay’s hands grip tight into your supple skin, holding your thighs open for him as his tongue circles your opening. Your back arcs as you moan, the sensation of his tongue on you setting off what feels like fireworks in your head. Jay’s mouth presses into you, hard and deep, his tongue licking and lapping at your now sopping wet cunt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck – ” You whisper, eyelids fluttering shut as Jay softly flicks his tongue over your clit. He repeats the motion, going up and down, teasing your clit and your hip jerks upwards sharply in response. Settling your ass back down against his soft sheets, you catch your breath and mutter a soft apology – “Shit, sorry,” – and Jay taps your thigh, a silent “don’t worry about it”, as he’s nosed his way back between your legs immediately.

Jay laps at your folds and you try to keep your head about you, try to not lose your mind, but it just feels so good. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently and your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Oh my god, ohhh my god – fuck!” You whimper, as he keeps sucking your clit, pausing to flick his tongue over it. Your fingers clutch the sheets around you hard enough to rip holes in them. The loud moans out of your mouth are bordering on screams. The feeling in your core, the heat, starts rising like a wave reaching a shore –

“I’m gonna – I’m gonna – I’m gonna – ah, ah, ahhhh – fuck! Fuck, fuck – Jay! Jay!” You scream, your vision whiting out completely as you arch off the bed, riding out the waves of pleasure wrecking your body. You hands fly downwards to grab Jay’s head as you jerk away from his still-working mouth, your oversensitive clit causing tears to pool in your eyes. Pulling him up, you whisper his name over and over again, like he’s the only gospel you know. Jay shifts up, laying down next to you and pulling you close, your bodies fitting into each other like a perfect pair of puzzle pieces. You look at him through your teary eyes and all you see are his green irises staring right back at you with a measure of something dark and lustful in them. You hold his face in your hands, running a thumb over the rough stubble of his cheeks, his jaw, where a soft beard has started to grow. His lips are glossy and wet, from you, and you see now there’s a soft pink line going across his nose that you trace with your hands, frowning.

“I’m okay,” Jay says in a soothing voice.

“What happened?” You ask, concerned, the frown between your eyebrows deepening as you look up at him.

A soft smile. “Kinda got into a fight. Guy tried to punch me, I dodged it, but his fingernail scratched me. It’s fine.” Jay replies quickly, and his face is so close to yours that you’re breathing the same air. You don’t say anything, but you must still be frowning because Jay speaks again. “It’s literally just a scratch.” You hum softly in response, running your hands down his front, unbuttoning his shirt, scanning the expanse of his chest and abdomen with your fingertips and your eyes.

Jay lifts your chin and you turn back to him. “What?”

“Are you checking me for other injuries?” He asks, chuckling. You look back down, pausing for a moment. “Maybe…it’s not like you’d tell me if you got hurt, right?” Jay just laughs, and there’s your answer. You ignore the burgeoning feelings in your heart of some kind of dejection.

Your fingers run over a sliver of raised skin, on his lower right flank. It’s a thin, pale pink scar that runs about 3 inches. You work in an ED – you know exactly what this is.

“You were stabbed?” You ask, stunned. “When?”

Jay sighs, grabbing your fingers in his hand and holding them closed. “Army stuff. Not a big deal.” He pushes your fingers away to your own body, and then reaches for the blanket and pulls it up over the two of you, like as if the conversation’s over.

“You don’t want to talk about the Army,” you point out, as Jay lays on his back, some distance between the two of you. He sighs again, looking upwards at the ceiling. “Is that a question or a statement?”

You know you shouldn’t push, but you do anyway.

“You should talk to someone about it – ”

“I talk to people about it. I have.” Jay’s voice is tight. He’s still not looking at you.

“You can talk to me about it...” You say, and you’re terrified. Because what you’re really asking is “Do you think I’m close enough, do you care about me enough to let me in?”.

Jay turns to you, a soft smile on his face. “It’s fine. I’ve got other people for that.”

Hiding the immense desolation that’s weighing like an anchor on your chest from showing, you just send a shallow smile his way.

He’s got other people for that. He’s got other people for sharing his feelings, his pain, his suffering, his life. He doesn’t want you for that, I mean, why would he share all of that with you? You’re just a warm body – some random girl he’s having sex with. Nothing more.

You pull the blankets tighter around you, turning away from Jay. Trying your best to quell the wave of sadness flooding what feels like every single part of you, you drift asleep.

***

“Dr Y/N?”

You turn, and there’s Walter Holden on a bed in the ED.

“Walter?” You walk to his side, stunned. He’s crying – tears spilling out of his soft baby blue eyes, his youthful face scrunched up in pain and anguish.

“Why did you do this to me? Why?!” He yells, his voice cracking. You shake your head. “Walter, Walter I’m so sorry – I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to – ” You choke on your words, and as you look down the bed you realise that Walter’s amputated leg is bleeding at the stump.

“Oh god, oh my god – ” You get up, shocked as the blood starts gushing. Walter screams.

“Help me! Dr Y/N – help me! Help me!”

You hear your heart hammering in your ears, your head is spinning, you stand up and you feel faint.

Will rushes into the room. He starts holding as much gauze as he can to Walter’s leg. Nurses and doctors flood the room, and they begin moving Walter out. You’re standing, back pressed to the treatment room wall, aghast.

Will turns to you, his face red with rage. “What are you even doing?! Fucking hell, Y/N – you can’t do anything right?!”

There’s a painful lump in your throat, and you can’t breathe. Something grabs your hand and you snap your head. It’s Walter, and as they wheel his bed out, he looks at you with so much fury and torment in his eyes.

“YOU DON’T DESERVE TO BE A DOCTOR!”

“No, no, no, I’m so sorry Walter, I’m so sorry – I’m so sorry – this can’t be happening, no, no no no – ” Tears stream down your face and you start shaking. Your knees buckle, and you fall to the ground, sobs wracking your body. Somewhere in the distance, you hear your name being called, but you can’t answer, you can’t do this anymore, you can’t – you just can’t…

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You jolt, your eyes flying open. Jay’s over you, his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes wide, concerned, his hands holding your shoulders where you realise he’s been shaking you – shaking you because – because –

Fuck.

It was a fucking nightmare. Again.

You let out a cry of pain, bringing your hands up to cover your face. “Breathe, just breathe.” Jay says softly, rubbing your arms up and down.

After about a minute, when you don’t feel so shaken anymore, you wipe your eyes and slowly sit up. Jay shifts with you, sitting right next to you. You can’t look him in the eyes.

“I’m – I’m sorry I woke you,” you whisper to your palms, resting atop your folded legs.

“Don’t – don’t worry about that. Y/N, what happened? It sounded pretty bad…” Jay says and you shake your head.

“I’m fine, it’s fine – ” Your hands run through your hair roughly. You need to go. You need to go – you need to leave – you can’t be here –you can’t be here with him –

“Hey. Hey,” Jay repeats, when you don’t answer. He reaches across and his warm hard gently grabs your face, trying to get you to look at him but you just push his hand away. You get up, grabbing your underwear and jeans from the ground and start getting dressed.

“Y/N!” Jay gets off the bed, and comes to you. You sidestep him, or at least you try to, but he’s much taller than you and his shoulders are broad; he stands in your way and grabs your arms softly.

“Y/N, look at me – ”

“Why?”

You give him what he wants. You look up at him, you stare him directly in his eyes, shaking in anger and fear and what feels like the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“Hmm? Why? This isn’t – you don’t care – what does it matter –” You yell at him, your mind frazzled as you fall apart in his arms.

The frown on Jay’s face gets deeper, and he shakes his head, leaning close. “Hey, talk to me. C’mon, you can talk to me – ”

“Why the fuck would I talk to you? You’re just some guy I’m sleeping with!” You spit harshly, shaking his hands off and stepping back. Jay’s mouth falls open, and his shoulders sag. His face contorts into something awful - dismay, defeat, hurt.

For a moment, you want to run back into his arms – apologise, say you didn’t mean it, say you’re just scared – but you don’t. You move around him, grabbing your shirt. You put it on and make your way out of his bedroom, and out of his apartment.

You don’t know why you said what you did. Actually, scratch that, you know exactly why you said that. In fact, you know exactly why you’re what you’re doing.

Every relationship you’ve ever had up to this point’s fucked you over. Every single one. You’ve been cheated on, you’ve been lied to, you’ve been told you were just some piece of ass, not an actual girlfriend. And now?

Now you’re scared shitless of what this thing between the two of you is. You’re scared shitless that you’re making a mistake by screwing around with your boss’s brother and you’re –

Well.

You’re scared shitless you’re falling for him.

So, you do what you do best. Dump out of this, push the self-destruct button. Get him to push you away so you don’t have to go through the pain of falling for the guy you can’t have. The one that you know’s going to screw you over, because he’s going to realise he only really sees you as a hookup – that he doesn’t love you.

You try to hold back the tears, because you’re driving home and the last thing you need right now is a car accident. There’s a buzzing sound from your phone and you perk up. As much as you want to tell yourself to not get your hopes high, you can’t help yourself, and you speed down the road to the red light so you can push the brakes and wait. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you immediately check the screen.

The smile on your face falls – it’s just a stupid notification from Instagram. You toss your phone back onto the passenger seat, hard enough that it bounces off and hits the ground. Tears once again threaten to fill your eyes, and there’s a painful lump in your throat. You swipe at your cheeks, where a single tear has made its escape, and turn to look at the screen next to your steering wheel – it shows the time as 3:45AM. Leaning back against your car seat, a deep sigh exits your lungs.

You realise there’s no way you’re going to sleep again today, what with the whole Jay thing on top of the Walter Holden nightmare that’s been haunting you for the last 6 days now.

The lights turn green.

Swearing under your breath, you throw your car into a U-turn and drive to Med instead.

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead smut #jay halstead x reader #will halstead #will halstead imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine #onechicago imagine #onechicago #cpd smut #cpd imagine

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melonsmessymusings · 4 years ago

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Preventing ‘Dark Willow’

This essay is based off an argument with my brother a long time ago. The question is if Giles staying in Sunnydale in S6 would have prevented Darth Rosenberg. There are many thoughts on this, but I’ve probably put my foot in my mouth as per usual and made a mess.

No. Giles staying in S6 would not have prevented Willow from being a magic junkie.

Throughout the show, magic is used as a metaphor for drugs and sex, albeit ham-handedly. In this case, it’s about drugs. With this in mind, let’s focus firstly on Willow. From as early as S1, Willow expressed an interest in learning magic. Her relationship with Jenny Calendar and her Technopagan badassery led to her forming what seemed at first to be a harmless interest in magic and Paganism. Towards the end of S2 in I Only Have Eyes For You, Willow admits to Giles: “I found loads of websites and stuff on paganism and magic... it’s really interesting.” which demonstrates her interest may be a little more than purely ‘educational fun’.

Her first taste of powerful magicks was restoring Angel’s soul at the end of S2. In Becoming Part 1, Giles warns Willow of the consequences of such mystical forces: “Channelling such potent magicks through yourself… it may open a door you won’t be able to close.” The Passion of the Nerd touched upon it briefly and explained the choice of phrasing is especially key here. It’s not as simple as a one-off spell that has no ramifications, the nature of the Soul Restoration uses a kind of magic that will stay with the caster forever. It leaves a mark. As we know, Willow does the spell anyway after waking up from a coma (don’t even go there) and successfully restores Angel’s soul. This is how her addiction started and it is the ONLY explicitly direct warning of the impact caused by using magicks that Giles gives her.

In Faith, Hope and Trick, Willow tries to persuade Giles to let her help him with the ‘spell’ to bind Acathla and lets slip that she knows more about the black arts than she’d originally led him to believe. There’s an interesting bit of dialogue between the two:

WILLOW: Are you mad at me?

GILES: No, of course not, no.

It’s obvious that Giles is anxious about this but because of his well-established role and priorities at this point, he’s not going to dwell on it too much, despite it being a genuine concern. Later in the episode, Willow also says, “Giles, I know you don’t like me messing with mystical forces…” so it has evidently been the topic of discussion previously. In Gingerbread, Willow is messing with magic again trying to make a protection spell for Buffy. The symbol used by Willow, Amy and that other kid is one commonly associated with human sacrifices according to Giles. The Black Arts. Even if that isn’t the spell they were casting, the symbol had other less pleasant implications. And so, it continues. By S4, Willow is doing much more than floating a pencil, progressing alarmingly quickly and becoming highly proficient by the end of the season. Giles reminds her of the dangers of magic subtly, “I don’t think it’s wise for you to be attempting spells, your energy is too unfocused” and Willow is still doing magic that is both powerful and harmful enough to have caught the attention of D’Hoffryn, Lord of the Vengeance Demons despite his apprehensions.

In S5 we get a first look at ‘Dark Willow’, when Tara gets brain sucked by Glory. There’s no way the whole gang didn’t know about that. Not a chance. Yet oddly, it’s never mentioned? Obviously, the writers had other priorities with the main plot and Glory etc. but it was criminally neglected. Willow used extremely dangerous dark magicks to go after Glory for hurting Tara at incredible risk to herself and the others who ended up having to rescue her. Justifiable or not, her actions were a reckless abuse of power that very nearly had fatal consequences. How any of them just let it slide without so much as a comment is infuriating. In The Weight of The World, Giles says to Xander, “It’s extraordinarily advanced” when he learns that Willow is trying to enter Buffy’s mind yet again, concerned. Also, we start to see the black eyes when Willow attempts more advanced spells, like teleporting Glory away in Blood Ties, or casting the protective wards in Spiral so it can be theorised that the magicks Willow evokes are steadily darkening.

Roll on S6. Set after Buffy’s death, a huge trauma for all the characters. Willow raising Buffy is evidently a massive achievement from her perspective. She considers herself to be a God. In Flooded, she gets the gut-punch from Giles that he is not in fact pleased with her at all. She’d expected him to be “impressed or something” which he was, but in the wrong ways.

GILES: The magicks you channelled are more ferocious and primal than anything you can hope to understand, and you are lucky to be alive you rank, arrogant amateur!

He blames himself for not stopping her, and rightfully so... to an extent. He failed to provide her with proper guidance or even show an interest in the types of magic that she was engaging with. If he had done so at an earlier stage, then perhaps Willow would not have taken things as far as she did. One interpretation of the argument in Flooded is that Giles is lashing out at Willow because he’s frightened. Most likely for Willow instead of Willow herself. He makes a point of saying that she was “the one [I] trusted most to respect the forces of nature” and bringing Buffy back defies the laws of nature. She had no respect for these forces, bending them to her will which is a scary concept. The argument that the Scoobies were selfish for bringing Buffy back notwithstanding, Willow was the one that actually performed the spell, hell bent in succeeding. That horrifies Giles and if anything, is a wakeup call for him to pull his head out of the sand and deal with this seriously. Willow meanwhile doesn’t want to hear a word of it, pacifying him instead of actually understanding the implications of her actions and listening to anything beyond his anger. There’s a lot that could be dissected in this scene but that’s unnecessary at this moment.

Magic is also the primary factor that caused Willow and Tara to split up at the end of Tabula Rasa. Tara had brought her concerns to Willow as early as Tough Love, saying that she was ‘scared’ about how powerful Willow was getting. When Tara tried to explain why she felt this way, Willow refused to listen. Every single time that Tara raised a concern about Willow’s use of magic, Willow either ignored it or reassured her that it was fine, and she was totally in control. But Willow has a history of altering people and their actions to suit her. She attempted to do so in Lover’s Walk by casting a spell on Xander to stop them having feelings for each other. Again, in Something Blue, while unaware of the effects of the spell, she still made the conscious choice to use magic to ‘have her will be done’. She ended up hurting her friends, however unintentionally. Then in S6 when Tara and Willow are arguing about magic, instead of having a proper conversation, Willow uses the Lethe’s Bramble to make Tara forget they were even arguing. A direct invasion of her mind. And Willow didn’t show any indication that she thought it was wrong. Barely two episodes later, Willow then used a spell which caused everyone to forget who they are after promising Tara that she would go a week without using magic. It’s no surprise that Tara wanted to break up.

Willow does get ‘clean’ by Entropy. Subsequently Tara comes back, and it all seems to go well until the brutal, vicious, non-sensical murder that causes Willow to launch herself back into the dark magicks stating, “I’m not coming back.” Only then does Giles do something about it. Only then does he take it upon himself to step up and realise that he has failed her, by which point it was far too late and resulted in her very nearly killing him, a price he deemed a suitable penance for his neglect.

But NOT ONCE prior to this did Giles intervene. He had the resources and was capable of it, and not once did he sit her down properly and say, “Willow, I think we need to talk about your use of magic because I’m a tad concerned.” Even after resurrecting Buffy, he only chastises her for her recklessness, he doesn’t actively do anything beyond this except a few powerful glares. He is watching her make all the mistakes he made as a young rapscallion and doing nothing about it. Then in S7, he fulfils the mentor role to her and helps keep on track of her recovery, an older addict helping the younger. It just highlights that he could have helped her sooner before it was out of control.

This comes back to Giles’ basic structure as a character. He’s a Watcher, the mentor to the Slayer. His purpose is to be in Sunnydale for Buffy. His whole life is revolved around Buffy, she is factored into every single one of his decisions. He never signed up to be the ‘father-figure’, despite appearing to adopt that role very quickly. He never signed up to care for Xander and Willow, he isn’t the Watcher of them. He has never given any indication that he wants that responsibility, and it shouldn’t fall to him to care for a group of random teenagers. It’s this fundamental construction of Giles’ character that means that he’s borderline dependant on Buffy, which isn’t her fault at all. He sacrifices everything, even parts of himself for her and most of the time gets nothing in return. The point is that Giles is so busy being a Watcher that he can’t think of anything else. It’s not necessarily his fault, that’s exactly how he was trained, and arguably after the whole Eyghon debacle, it’s unlikely that he ever truly had faith in his judgement again. Remember when Giles put Buffy before Jenny, the woman he loves? Buffy comes first, always because the mission is what matters.

On a more speculative note, Giles was aware of Willow’s obsession with magic and didn’t know what to do, instead choosing to believe that he wanted to help her, but he didn’t trust himself to teach her the control she needed. It does narratively fit for Giles to be reluctant to help Willow learn the magicks given his past. However, he neglected her and is at least partially to blame for Willow becoming a magic junkie. He had every opportunity over YEARS to step in and offer her a proper education. He had the skills and if he were hesitant, certainly had the connections to find someone who would teach Willow properly, e.g., the Coven in Devon. The audience is acutely aware after The Dark Age that Giles has a history of abusing dark magic. Note that throughout the series, he does not actually use that much magic himself. This abuse led to Giles having to murder one of his friends among whatever else he and his ��friends’ got up to, which means he knows full well the ramifications of messing with that kind of power and doesn’t want to go down that rabbit hole again. Magic is an addiction and he’s a recovering addict.

Equally, Willow never asked Giles for help. It’s all very well blaming him for being negligent and grossly irresponsible, but she didn’t ask him to teach her. She didn’t ask him for guidance or whatever, at least not memorably. Assume that he did help her. That he trained her and gave her a proper education in the magicks. There’s no guarantee that any of that would have prevented Willow from taking it too far. Willow has an addictive personality and therefore it makes logical sense for her to become addicted to magic. Ultimately, Giles could have spent years training her, but he can’t make decisions for her, nor does he wish to. Willow is her own person, a bright, capable young woman who is an adult. He cannot push her to do anything and it’s not in his nature to do so. Dark Willow is an inevitability in a sense.

Essentially while Giles staying in Sunnydale would’ve been preferable on a personal level, it would have made very little difference as to whether Willow would abuse the magicks. She’d already done so on countless occasions with no intervention therefore he likely wouldn’t have interfered until it was too little too late. It’s not that he doesn’t care for Willow, but he had other priorities, right or wrong. Should he have helped her? Absolutely. But it takes two to Tango...

#btvs #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #rupert giles #willow rosenberg #meta #very long essay that took too long #sorry for my mess

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stopeatingwhales · 4 years ago

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“i’ll always love you,” x damon albarn

this one’s for my beloved friend emily, who requested i write something inspired by the song clocks by coldplay for her, and must i say this turned out better than i had anticipated it to. enjoy <3

Paring: 90s damon albarn x reader

Warnings: angst, dysfunctional relationship

Word count: 1.811

Happy late birthday emily x

༉‧₊˚✧

Having to endure his enthralling features pick-up multiple women at a bar accompanied by my watching, plastering a pretend look of inattention, attempting to hypnotise my ears with Graham’s words directed at me was the equivalent of absolute torture. It devastated me. Seeing the woman’s eyes glow up, instantly subdued to Damon; his beauty right away changing the plans for the evening. A chat? Maybe. A shag? Definitely. A boyfriend? No way. He would use the poor woman as a ploy to get back at me, perhaps from an argument that had resurfaced from the previous night - which created much bigger issues the following day. He did it countless amounts of times as revenge, and each time - no matter how many times it had been done - it always felt like he was slipping a knife slowly into my heart, twisting it around as leisurely as possible, creating the most excruciatingly horrific pain. Pain that wouldn’t leave, even after he had finished with her, as he stumbled into the cramped tour bus, avoiding my eyes completely. He was butchering me, in all ways notorious to man.

Patiently waiting, I was expecting for the usual: some sort of scoff, maybe a roll of the eyes - dearly conducted straight at me. There was nothing. The only attack I had received in the majority of ten seconds was the gust of wind blow straight past my face from his grand entrance - exhilarating goosebumps on my cheeks. I pondered over the situation, battling the idea of whether I should hoot at him or not, his body language unattentive to my view. It was almost as if he was avoiding me, avoiding the scene, as if he was contemplating outside whether it would be a good decision to walk in at such a dingy time. He seemingly tried to rush past me as fast as he could, although there was no chance I’d be letting him get to sleep this early.

“Damon,” I said, sternly, rising from my sleeping position on the couch. His slow movements came to a halt, my ears perking up at the sound of a hefty sigh roll off his tongue. Funnily enough, he knew this was coming. He knew the repetitive argument that was going to play, almost word for word at this point. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The rest of the boys were preciously bunked up in their beds, and unfortunately my angry consciousness had little to no care whether they had any sleep or not; I had not been able to get a clean, crisp night’s sleep since the beginning of the tour. Since the beginning of this all.

Scoffing, Damon’s stilled stance had now twisted round, his daggering stare locking with my hopeless, tearful one. “Sorry?” he muttered? Cocking his head to the side, waiting for another chain of rows to dance out of my mouth. What a dickhead.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled sharply. I swallowed the pool of saliva forming on my tongue out of nervousness, the tremble of my hands sending my mind into a pit of anger as I cupped them both into fists, each hand hidden by my sides. “You’re such a dickhead,” I mumbled, shaking my head to the ground in utter disbelief, knowing full-well this wasn’t going to end well; it never did.

I averted to laying back down on the couch from my former standing position, deciding that there was absolutely no reason that I should be giving my all into repetitive arguments, all it ever did was dig a much larger pit of agony than I had before. “Of course you’d say that,” I heard Damon chuckle, aggravation grumbling throughout his voice. He stood still, waiting for my response. If I’m being honest, I wanted him to stay there. Regardless of the life he was sucking out of me, I seemingly needed his presence there. All the time.

For a short moment, the anger that had riled up in my veins was mellowed, but that softness was interrupted by another evil laugh fleeing his lips. Suddenly, everything that had happened in the past evening came right back at me, leaving nothing but pure rage. “Why do you think that sleeping with other women is going to help?” I questioned, turning my head to once again connect our eyes. He was clearly taken aback at my abrupt and explicit asking, due to his eyes widening slightly at my raw phrasing. I wasn’t going easy tonight.

“You seem to think that making me feel like dirt on your feet mends our arguments. Why?” I asked again, carrying the same, firm tone I was initiating previously. I wanted him to realise what he had been doing, in the cruelest way achievable. He’s harmed me enough. “Does it seem to please you?”

My gaze never left his face. I studied his features, noticing each twitch, shift, and emotion embellishing his appearance. His face was a blanket of snow, almost exactly like the face of the moon. His head was hanging low, the tips of his fringe guiding his hair to freefall from the gravity. His darkened, gold locks effortlessly matched the dynamic of the room, the colour of the lamp blending in with his figure. The air felt painfully still; my words not just affecting him, but me as well. A sudden rush of wonder coursed through my mind, what if one of the boys were listening? They knew about how dysfunctional mine and Damon’s relationship had become over the past couple months, but they never mentioned a word of it, fully aware that it would be yet another reasoning for an argument.

Eventually, his silence began to taunt me. It felt as if he didn’t want to say anything, but all I wanted was for him to just own up to his actions - something he had never come across doing in his lifetime. “Why do I let you do this to me…” I croaked, my eyes beginning to well up with tears.

Finally, I shifted my stare to my lap, letting my silent tears flee from my eyes, dripping onto my trousers. I didn’t feel like changing, the sickness that had pitted in my stomach from the thought of Damon with someone else becoming like a sickness for me. All of a sudden, I began gaining flashbacks over the past few weeks, remembering the one conversation that started this all. Let’s have an open relationship. Why? It’ll give us more freedom.

I felt all the emotions pent up, engraved inside my mind all rush back to me, my steady breathing now becoming extremely rapid, water now soaking my cheeks as I sobbed as quiet as possible. I squeezed my mouth shut, my constant sniffles being enough to wake the entire bus of sleeping people. Damon rarely saw me cry, not because I didn’t want him to, I felt incapable of doing it in front of people. The perpetual worry of judgement clouded above my mind subconsciously. My crying now was not only a sign for me that I was impotent of carrying on what we had created between ourselves, but for him, to realise that this was unhealthy. What had we become?

“Y/N…” Damon managed to squeak out, the soft sounds of his feet progressively getting louder as he made his way over to where I was, crouching down to eye level with me. “Love, please don’t cry,” he whispered, caressing my hair lightly.

Subconsciously, I felt my head lean against his hand, the comfort pulsating warmth through my body. He took note of this immediately, standing up slightly to lay down next to me on the couch, disregarding the little to no room for both of us. Our bodies were touching everywhere imaginable, my heart aching as I felt his arm around my shoulder, tightening our embrace. I shut my eyes, beginning to cry into his shoulder. My sobs quickly escalated to wails, Damon’s caressing putting my mind into a complete state of confusion. “Shhh,” he cooed, peppering kisses all over my forehead. See? This is exactly what he does, every time.

My cries slowly began to die down after a while of his consolations. However, although my body was completely drained inside and out, I couldn’t rest. I knew he could tell, due to my breathing. “Why do you let me hurt you like this,” he mumbled, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. He never realised how much pain he was causing to not only me, but to himself. We were torturing each other, the toxicity of the relationship way past the point of mending. Our love was a poison and a medicine; he could dismantle my limbs in such a loathsome manner, yet almost immediately be able to perfectly stitch me back to my previous figure, slobbering sorrowful kisses all over my body, realising he had done no good.

We were one of those oblivious couples, thinking, assuming that nothing would happen to us. Nothing would tear us apart, nothing at all. But the fear? The fear of love tearing you apart? No, that doesn’t exist. What the fuck is that? The usual reaction. How can the person who brought me the utmost joy, the brightest smile, the love of ten thousand adorning stars and more, be the same man who murdered my belief of love, be the one person who causes me the most torment, rips me, corrupts me, pacifies me in places I didn’t know were a part of my body? And yet, all I find myself doing is lingering back to him.

“I love you Damon, and I really don’t fucking know why I do,” I mumbled into his ear, breathing in helplessly before carrying on. “But I can’t do this anymore,”

My breath hitched in my throat as those words left my mouth, my mind bewildered that I had said such a thing. I felt Damon tense up, the gulp in his throat more prominent than usual. This conversation was avoided many, many times by the both of us, but there was no use in hiding it anymore. “I can’t live without you,” he mumbled into my hair, inhaling the pungent scent, knowing this would most likely be the last time he’d be able to.

I knew what my words were doing to him. They were daggers, anguishing sharp stabs in his stomach, exactly like the same stabs he’d given me, simply a hundred times worse. “You’re dying with me here,” I replied, biting my lip in pure melancholy. “Go live your life, you’ll find the love of it eventually,” I breathed, my voice barely inaudible as I released myself from Damon’s grasp, standing up. He was as quiet as he had ever been, trying to take in my words one by one.

“Just remember I’ll always love you,”

#damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #graham coxon #alex james #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #blur band #imagine #angst #fluff #smut #90s #music

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blackrosesfanfic · 4 years ago

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Chapter 234

Amber

Chris kisses my neck. "Trey a fucking dumbass."

"For doing what he should have been doing?" I snap.

"How is it going to help their relationship? I don't see nothing positive from this."

April comes up. "Both of you should be ashamed of yourself."

"Who? I don't have nothing to do with fucking Trey. He his own man."

"What are you talking about?" April snaps. "I find out from Joyce who not even here that you are expecting? Not even worth a bitch just to let you know there's something you don't know even though you in the next room."

"Ma?" Chris says standing up. "I told you in the kitchen about the drone."

She pushes him away. "You told me about a message in a bottle and how you have more confidence in your ability to be in a relationship."

"No, Ma. I said Amber confused me by not putting the message... okay maybe I changed the subject."

"Right... after you got a damn text message then started talking about your relationship."

Chris tries to hug her again. "You can be the first to see the ultrasound."

She snatches it from him as he takes it out of his phone case. He chuckles and comes back to the chair. I guess she was taking the picture. She comes back hugging me.

"We will talk later." April says in my ear then kiss my cheek. "Congratulations. Yes Chris I agree with you now."

"I thought you did before." He snaps.

She chuckles. "I lied."

He sucks his teeth. She walks away. This man is only upset for 2 seconds after she leaves. He turns around into my face.

"I feel obligated to get Trey and Cammie where we are in our relationship. I wish he didn't turn that phone in. We could have burned it together. He could have just given it to April. She is credible."

"Chris won't you go find them and see how they are handling it. Just stop talking about it."

He exhales. "Their shit is... I'm leaving out in the morning to do a show."

I grab his face. "I know."

"I want to marry you before the baby comes."

"MiMi and Devin's wedding, Trey and Cammie's anniversary, holidays then baby. No time."

He sucks his teeth. "If you really feeling me then we can go to Vegas tonight. Everybody here."

"If you really feeling me then I only plan on getting married once and I be dammed if it's at a tacky ass shotgun ass pussy rankin ass Elvis motel. Fuck out of here. You are Chris Brown. You fucking spending money on me the first time. So shut up. If I'm feeling you… Gotdamn, it fucking don't matter now cause I'm having your child. You fucking stuck, whether it be tomorrow or next year."

"Damn." Alex says leaning away from us. "Fuck all that shit."

Chris chuckles but doesn't say anything. I'm not telling him again why the wedding can't be sooner than planned. Now he has to wait 8 months. Still puts him at next year. I'm not rushing this anymore than what it already is. Something gonna be in my control. I push him off of me.

"You have nothing to say?"

"That's the surest I ever heard you talk about our future. I don't have shit to say."

Alex laughs. "Really? I always wondered if it's the power of pussy."

Chris looks at her. "What's your fucking problem? Why you always putting negative shit in the air? Nobody even talking to you."

"Oh, do you own me? Shit not free, huh?"

"Her voice fucking irritates me." Chris hisses.

"She does that on purpose." Jamaal says. "Irritate people to avoid connecting with people. It's what she does to her parents."

Chris nods. "And you listen to that shit?"

"You respond to it?" Jamaal shrugs.

"Okay."

"Fuck you, Jamaal." Alex says standing up and walking away.

I sigh and get up off of the chair. I don't feel like fucking fixing other people's shit. I've got my own fucking venting I want to do. Jamaal touches my arm stopping me from going after Alex.

He smiles softly. "I got it."

"Good cause she needs a man to fix her daddy issues." Chris says.

"I'm going to find something to eat that's not on a stick."

Chris sits up straight. "We can order something. I don't think we have anything."

"I'll find my own food, Chris." I say with a smile.

"Okay."

Cammie

"Tremaine?"

"In here baby." Ma says. My mother.

I shake my head. What? I walk into her bedroom. Lane and Trey are stretched out on the floor sleep. Lane had a damn pacifier in his mouth. I take it out. He opens his eyes frowning at me. I stand up straight looking at him. He smiles at me then looks towards the bed at Mama.

"What's this game y'all playing?" I snap.

"He wants to be my baby instead of my big boy. He likes to keep games going. He might be good at acting. You should try it. Since he will be famous anyway."

I shrug a bit and get on the bed where Caden is. He opens his eyes then makes a pouting face. My baby is so damn fake. I leave him there then look towards my mother. She is standing in the closet stacking up folded clothes.

"I never thought about how much my family needed you in their lives." I say after Lane goes up to her and lays his head on her hip. "Why is Trey in here on the floor?"

"They were fighting over the pacifier." Ma giggles. "Ready to be grandma big boy?"

Lane hugs her thigh. "Yes."

She kneels down picking him up. "Oh boy, so heavy."

"What did you do with Shy's bad butt?"

"Her grandmother has her in Columbia until I get back." She rolls her eyes. "I have never been good at discipline. I should have spanked that girl's mama. Thank God for your sweet grandmother and her rules. I think you have a beautiful family."

Caden kicks his feet towards me trying his best to reach me. I stand up then notice that Ma already had stuff to change his diaper on the bed. I climb into the bed to get closer to him.

"I have been fighting like the plague trying to get this family."

"And get ready to fight more. Baby, there is nothing easy about a marriage to a public figure. You have to remind them that they normal. Your husband don't know his mouth from his hand."

I shrug. "I guess."

"I didn't care for him before I came this week. I should have been talked with him." She says lying Lane on the bed. He was sleep again. "He cares so much about you."

"It's easy to forget that."

She sits on the bed. "He thinks I made you pick Chemistry. Cammie you know I wanted nothing more than for you to get a degree that would set you apart from most women. You were already good at dancing. You didn't need school for that."

"Yeah, I know."

"Then why do you have these people thinking I never supported you?"

I shrug. I continue changing Caden's diaper.

"You know I was at every ballot recital. Ready with my needle and thread because your chubby butt was gonna bust out of that tutu."

"Yeah."

"You know I'm a classical music lover. All that sexy booty shaking hip hop."

"Cause you don't know how to shake nothing."

She chuckles a bit. "Your daddy loved calling me white girl. I can't help I wasn't exposed to it until college. Then I went too far too fast."

"In college?" I ask looking at her.

"You are grown now so I can tell you. My friend Janette had me wide open. One night I woke up in the school mascot uniform. You know it was the 70s early 80s. Drugs, sex, and no care. I feel like if I hadn't met your father I wouldn't have known who Chubby's father was. My judgement sober had started to shift to who cares. I had to change gears. Go back to how I was raised."

I just look at her. She chuckles a bit taking Lane's pants off.

"Sometimes things take you away from who you are." She says like she lost in thought. The conversation dies. Or I thought it did. She looks at me. "You liked your stepfather. He never tried to touch you or anything did he?"

I make my eyes big. "No."

She blows. "I didn't think so. He really does love you and Chubby. I should call him Rollie. Anyway, he loves you and Rollie. Only if it's because he loves me. He does like to be included. He loved fighting with you, probably misses it. At least you two had some interaction."

I start crying. She doesn't notice at first until I try to hold it in. It doesn't work at all. I never thought about whether or not me being distant cause them to be sad. I didn't think they cared. I thought they would be happy not to have to worry about me. I don't know where any of those ideas came from.

"I didn't mean to make you cry, Baby. I don't know." She says putting her hand on my leg. "I don't know anything unless you tell me. I'm not supermom. I'm a bit self absorbed and... spoiled as Kenny would say. Again I was raised that way. It's hard to correct things as an adult. Most times I just don't want to. You know?"

I jump. Someone had touched my back. It was Trey. He sits down on the bed then reach around me and put Caden's diaper on. I had abandoned everything with my tears. I don't remember the last time my mother and I talked. I don't even know who this is talking to me. She never talked so much shit about herself. Took blame for being caught up in her own shit.

"I feel you on that. Being a responsible adult is stressful." Trey says. "Jayla?"

I just look at him. He nods his head. I don't know what he talking about. Caden starts crying like Trey had done something to him. Trey gently calms him down. Trey was actually the distraction in this conversation. Now I don't feel like crying.

"Tremaine?" I blow. "I shouldn't have let everyone think my mother was this witch that ruined my dream."

"Yeah." Trey says like he suddenly remembered. "I found that out myself."

Ma chuckles a bit. "All of those times we forced her out of the car was not to punish her."

"What was it for Mom?" I snap.

"I never... you wouldn't tell me." She says. "Lonnie finally just said let her transfer closer. If it means she will get out of this car when we drop her off. You were just fine catching the bus then it slowly got harder."

Trey looks at me. "When did you try to find out? On the way to drop her off? With Lonnie?"

"Most times I was at the church and she was with her grandmother until it was time to take her back. Really the only time we had."

"That's where the story came from. You didn't have time. You were asking about something personal in public."

"In public? It was..." she covers her mouth. "Something happened at school? I asked you when we were alone? I tried to find out... Was it when you were in the hospital? You told me you passed out from drinking. How was I supposed to put it together that something more serious happened? Gotdamn it Jayla. You know if I knew anything happened to you I would have turned that college upside down." She stands up then she puts her hands on her hips. "Jayla, what happened?"

I shake my head.

Trey sighs. "Jayla no. You can't shut down again, Baby."

"I didn't want it to be a big deal."

"You didn't want it at all, Jayla." Trey says putting Caden in my arms. "You would want to know if someone hurt your child. She wants to know if someone hurt her child."

Ma spins around the room. "I knew it was that damn Rashad. So arrogant and ready for the world to kiss his ass."

"It wasn't him." I say rocking Caden. "His friends drugged me."

"Nothing they haven't done in the past. You weren't the first girl he ever had around his friends. What were their names?"

I furrow my eyebrows at her. "No. Why? It doesn't matter, Ma."

She blows. "I feel like I need to do something."

"Well run down the beach screaming." I say wiping my face. "It's been years. I don't want my name in nothing."

"I will walk fast very angrily down the beach. Punch a few sand dunes." She says grabbing her phone and walking out.

I sit there stuck. What just happened? I feel numb. I don't feel like nothing. It seems as though that went completely wrong. Nothing like I imagined. Why does she feel like she need to do something? Would that something not be to just hug me? Or try to... I don't know but it's awkward now. Sitting here. Frozen. Going down memory lane. Alone. Again.

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