#ah well. that was meant to go in the queue. guess i better feed another post into the machine

[slit-you-open]

open your mouth and let me force my cock down your throat or I'll cut my way into your windpipe and fuck your throat from the outside in. sorry, that was a louder whimper than i expected. what was that, you want me to slit your whore throat? No, don't speak, I said you better open your goddamn mouth and hold it fucking open. Find another way to convince me.

Better hope you suck me good, bitch, because i know your throat will be tight around me if you're in your death spasms.

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

06 - Too Little Too Late

Chapters songs:

Yam Yam: No Vacation

Numb: Men I Trust

4EVER: Clairo

—

Sugawara

Hey, I won't be riding the bus this morning. My father is visiting and I have to spend the morning with him I'm guessing. I might be available after school, though. So if you wanna walk

Yeah, I'll let you know. I hope everything with your dad goes okay.

Okay. See you later then.

Yeah, you too.

—

One last message from Sugawara is received, before I close the messaging app, and turn off my phone. I wasn't quite ready for what was to occur this morning: seeing my dad. You would think I would be happy about it, or at least be a little excited. But really, I couldn't be more stressed. All my father has ever done is criticize my talents, my behavior, and almost everything that has to do with me being me. Every time he comes to Japan, which isn't a lot, it's the same lecture all over again about what I'm doing with my life, and where I'll be when I'm older.

But at least two or three more hours of sleep. Might as well take advantage of missing a day, right?

—

    As I stretch out my arms under my sheets, a knock on my door is heard, followed by my mom's soft voice. "Y/n, your father is getting you today. I'm off to work, okay? Make sure to feed Astra." Her tone is low and worry full, but I wouldn't blame her. Surely your ex-husband coming back shouldn't be so easy.

   "I know, mom. Thanks. You have a good day," I say back to her, hearing her footsteps slowly disappear. That's my queue to begin getting ready. What I wear consists of something simple: a thin white shirt, a sage green sweatshirt on top, and jeans with white sneakers, which is something safe. I wouldn't want him to begin criticizing me by starting with my outfit. And as for my hair, I wore it the way I always did.

After a few moments of getting ready, I stand up in the mirror, making sure my personality wasn't showing on the outside. I hated that this is how I had to think of myself when around my parents, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. As suspected, a few minutes later, a message from him appears informing me he had gotten here.

—

Dad

Hey! I'm outside, come quickly so we can grab something at that small cafe you love.

Okay, I'll be out there in a second.

—

Nothing baffled me as much as him being so normal about this situation did, but there wasn't much I could say to him. I could only imagine how many questions he would ask me, or if he would even care about the important things, like if I was going through anything.

Reaching for a basic shoulder bag, I say my farewell to the cat, and make my way downstairs. Once I reach the front door, I take a deep breath and open it to reveal the usual view, except an expensive car stood in the driveway, with a smiling man inside of it. I smile back, easing that he didn't look pissed as fuck. After that, I locked the front door and walked towards his car.

Hesitantly, I pull the handle and step into the front passenger seat. "Hey, Dad." I greet him, meanwhile closing the door. "How've you been?"

"Hm, I've been just fine. What about you?" He begins to pull out of the driveway, and soon enough, we're on the road. "There's much to talk about."

I nod, as he states the obvious. "Yeah, of course."

This is awkward.

My hands begin to fidget, popping and stretching my fingers while he drove on the road, saying absolutely nothing. That was until I asked something to fill the empty space between us. "How's work been? I heard you got a bunch of promotions."

"It's been like always; normal. But yes, I have gotten promotions. I guess I've exceeded the limit, though. So.. what about you? You're still on your whole band-thingy?" He clears his throat, turning into another street: the same Suga and I would walk. "Your aunt says she's excited to work with you."

My aunt, AU/N, was my blueprint. She was my father's little sister, and she had a hell of a lot of money. One time when she was younger she slipped in dog pee at Walmart and sued them 50,000$. Since she was a musician, and far more successful than my band, she decided to start her label, signing many small bands like mine. And so, since I had a connection, my friends and I decided to sign with her during the summer after we graduate. We'd have to move to New York in America, but that was just fine. Because moving meant we could establish a good career and attend college as well.

   "I'm excited too. You know, to move and all." My eyes take mental images of the portrait outside today. Trees were finally growing leaves again, and grass as well; spring was around the corner. "Why the sudden visit? Is there a conference being held in Miyagi?"

My question seems like have made him uneasy, for his fingers began making small beats on the steering wheel. In no way did I mean to be so sudden, but an answer to my asking was necessary.

Thankfully, his response isn't a shout and rude remark, but a simple explanation that frankly made me feel better about his stay. "I'm most likely not gonna be able to see you before you graduate, so I wanted to spend a day with you. I know I said I'd drop you off at school after breakfast, but I thought we could hang out longer.

Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

—

To my surprise, the drive wasn't as short as I thought. A total of thirty silent minutes felt as if it was an entire hour. Once we arrived at the small cafe in the plaza, the both of us got off the car and glanced at each other, beginning our way towards it.

    I had a certain idea of why he'd picked this spot for us to eat at. When I was younger, I'd spent lots of time here doing whatever I was up to, and usually with one of my close friends, (not that we're close anymore.) To be completely frank, it came to me as a shock my father even paid attention to how much I adored this place. The light lavender concrete walls and cutesy pots with succulents and house plants. Not to mention its colorful m decorations, far more improved than when I was a little kid. Still, it drew Moku, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Toruku to make it our number one hang-out spot from the ages of 8-14, even if it wasn't as attracting as it is now.

As we enter, the small bell at the top of the door rings, and we're greeted by a young girl at the counter that surrounded many baked goods. "Welcome!" She says, meanwhile packing up an online order. "Is there anything I could help you guys with?"

"Two coffees, please." My father replied, holding up two of his long, worn-out fingers. 'Coffee? I mean, I guess. Not that I cared or anything. I honestly preferred the tea with the little peaches in it— what was it called?' My father's voice cuts off my thoughts. "And a fruit lemonade for her. The coffees are for me; long hours!"

   'That's it!' I said to myself internally, briefly smiling at the worker while she wrote a few words down. And soon enough, we're told it'll take only a few minutes. Still, it baffled me my father even remembered such a little thing I loved when I was a child.

   What a try-hard.

   The two of us find a corner table for two, and he pulls out a chair for me to place myself. I do so, as my father does the same. Then, a long-awaited conversation begins. "How did you know I liked this place?"

   He straightens his collar, saying, "You never stopped talking about it when you were little."

  "And the drink?"

  "I just remember how many times it appeared on my taxes from this place, that's all." He chuckles, leaning onto his arm along with stroking his sharp beard. "Why do you ask?"

  Without thinking, I answer sharply, looking down at the wooden patterns on the table. "Why do you think? I didn't think you'd paid attention," I say to him, quickly looking up for a rude remark.

   He effortlessly sighs and keeps the situation unproblematic. Although, I wouldn't have minded diving deeper into the reasoning of his absence. "I did sometimes. Sorry."

  I tell myself to leave it at that, to leave it at 'sorry', but I can't. I can't not say something. "Can I ask you something? And I want a valid answer, not excuses. I know you wanted to have a nice time but this is the most I've talked to you in the past year so I'd rather get straight to it than poke around the elephant in the room."

  In the corner of my eye, I see him nod, giving me an okay that I could rant. Well, more like calmly let out my feelings. "I just— I don't understand what happened. After you and mom got busy, it was a total blur. I'm not asking for you two to get together again, and I never questioned why you split up either. I'm simply asking why you guys forgot you had a daughter, that's all."

    Not more than a split second later do I realize how rude that sounded. But too bad, I wanted to know. A few silent seconds slide by while he seems to be thinking of an answer, and explanation. Then, the sound of footsteps coming towards us, signaling our beverages had arrived.

  "Two coffees," the young lady mumbles, setting them in front of my father as he smiles. "And a fruit lemonade!" She exclaims. The pink-tinted drink makes waves in cold glass in her hand once it's set down. "All set. Is there anything else I can get for you two?"

   We shake our heads lightly.

   "Alright then! Enjoy!" She beams, then happily walks away. Ever since I was younger, I never understood why the store wonder daughter was so nice. But I'm guessing it lasted throughout the years, or else she wouldn't treat customers so gently.

Father slowly lifts the drink to his lips, and enjoys his cinnamon roast, while I feel my back aching from the perfect posture I perform around him. "Ah, carry on, Y/n. What is it that makes you so upset? The idea your mother and I did all we could to give you a better life, or is it that we picked ourselves up and became better people?" His manipulative tone comes in, sending mixed signals. But I could see where he was coming from completely.

"I just wish you two had taught me what it's like to be a proper parent. Instead, every time I would try getting your attention, you would always look away, and send me off to do something else." I feel my hands squeeze my thighs under the table, as I look up and down at my father with a silent yet harsh tone, "all I wanted was to admire you and learn what was so interesting about sitting in an office working for another person. But that's changed now, right? Because you've maxed out the level of superiority now that you've not done a single other thing."

"Y/n—"

"The fact you worked endlessly doesn't bother me as much as you criticizing me does. It truly hurts me that you attempt to steer me into another direction every time you visit when you haven't even been to at least seven of my birthdays. I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot it, either. You would judge who I hung out with, what I liked to do, everything. You even judged the way I handled my best friend dying, yet didn't think to send me to therapy. Toruku's mom is the one who took us to get help, not you. Why do you do it? Why do you think it's a good idea to bring me down? You've never been there for me, so you don't know me. You never will, father. You'll never know who I am."

A trembling hand reaches for my drink quickly, as I sip from the thin black straw in silence, taking in as much as I can. And all he can do is sit quiet, still processing my explanation.

That is until he speaks, finally. "I'm— I'm sorry."

"It's too late for that."

He nods.

The straw twirls between my fingers during the spinning memories of spending more time with my friends than my parents that ran through my mind. But it's whatever, right? I did just fine raising myself. At least that's what I told myself. Truth is, I needed people. I needed to grow with others on my side. It wasn't any wonder that I felt so lonely when I was younger. I'm dependent, yet independent.

Before getting up from my seat, I make sure to down the rest of the cold lemonade I had in my hand and grabbed both my hood and small bag. "Can we go now? Please."

"Sure. We can leave."

—

After getting home, I can't help but immediately let a few tears escape my eyes. The fact two words were all my father could say made my blood boil and my bones stiffen, especially since it was the last time I would talk with him in person before I graduate. Maybe I could meet him before he goes back to Korea, but I'd rather not. Not after leaving it at that.

The doors slam still echoed through the house, while I sat against the front door, crying in my lonely arms. No car to leave, and no one to hear me except a sleepy cat. While I do so, every thought of ever healing the hole between our relationship entered my thoughts, and the never-ending process of realizing I can't fix it hurts just as much as the pain in my chest.

Throughout the blur of water in my eyes, I make out the image of a white figure lying across my feet. I look up briefly, wipe my eyes, and stroke Astras back. Her soft, thin hair glides between my fingers, giving me a realization that I wasn't completely alone. No, I wasn't. I still had old friends and family that supported me, other than my father.

Right now, I had to think about the things that were important to me. The things that would help me grow, not look back at my regrets. Maybe the purpose of his visit was a sign from the universe, telling me to get over my past because my goals are too close for me to hesitate.

I needed a break from today. A nap, possibly. I don't think I'd be going back to school anytime soon, so I might as well rest a bit. That's exactly what I need, rest after a long week. After all, the weekend was just around the corner.

I slouch up the stairs with the chunky cat in my hand. By the time I reach my room, both my pants and shoes are in the other, and I'm ready to knock out between messy blankets.

—

'Ring!' My phone makes alarms under me, sending vibrations through the pillow my head rested on, making my eyelids quickly open. A hand snaked for the device, bringing the bright screen up to my face. It was no other than the band group chat.

Xanax sluts

Giki

Guess who just got invited to a party

Toruku

Us

Giki

No me but I asked if you guys could go and they said we can bring whoever

Toruku

Bruh

Who is hosting it

Giki

Some chick names Miya I know. She's a third-year and seems like a stuck-up little bitch but she's actually pretty cool.

Hikishi

Omg I love her she's so sweet

Me

Oh I know who you guys are talking about she's the girls' volleyball team captain

Giki

Yeah

Anyways she said you guys could go

Hikishi

When

Giki

Uhh

In like

An hour?

Me

HUH

GIRL IM NOT READY FOR A PARTY TN I JUST GOT IN THIS ARGUMENT WITH MY DAD 😟

Giki

Oh come onnn just slap on a dress or something and we can go

Hikishi

WAIT YES IM SO BORED

Toruku

Will, there be alcohol

Giki

No

Toruku

Will there be drugs

Giki

No

Toruku

Then this isn't a party-

Giki

Come on she's my friends and I promised you guys would go plus she's super popular so everyone's gonna be there AND she's rich

Toruku

And who's driving us

Hikishi

You mf who else

Me

Fine I'll go but you guys better not do anything to cause attention, if there's gonna be snobby people then we're most likely to be looked down on

Hikishi

I'm so excited yayy

Toruku

What are you excited about there's no drugs or alcohol

Hikishi

Cause this is the first party we're going to ever since last month

Toruku

Oh yeah

Giki

Mhm it's like this back to school party

Toruku

Giki if this is a kids party I'm gonna slap the lesbian out of you

Giki

ITS NOT YOU TOUCH-DEPRIVED TWINK

Me

See you guys in an hour ig

Hikishi

Oh-

—

Mom

Going out tn

Ok. Are you staying at anyone's house?

Maybe. Idk yet

How did it go with your dad

It went fine

Good baby I'm glad

Tell me when or if you get to someone's house

Ok I will love you

—

Happy that my mother didn't make an argument, I sigh, checking the time. It seemed pretty dark outside, so it had to be around eight or nine. And quickly after, I decide it's best to begin getting ready, again.

—

Please note chapters, it means a lot. I work endlessly on these making sure they're perfect for you guys. Have a good rest of your day, and I hope you take care of yourself. Love you lots!!

- estrxlar

[nicochii]

Please help Luisa Omielan

Luisa is a comedian. She’s a wonderful, sweet, funny person who’s going through so much right now and needs help. Her mother was diagnosed with stage 4 stomach cancer, but even that took quite awhile as doctors pushed her off. Along with these piece from Luisa, there is a link for a crowdfunding that is going towards helping Luisa and her mother! You can donate here! And here is her official facebook so you can see updates from her, as well as what has happened to her and her mother. This is copy and pasted from her facebook. “Dear Jeremy Hunt, I hope you don’t mind me sharing this online rather than in writing, but I don’t have time to go the Post Office. I am doing an experiment called ‘Life’ and I would love to get your input for my thesis.Say for example, your mother, or daughter or sister or wife - anyone you love dearly - had a history of stomach cancer in the family. Twelve months ago they developed a simple infection which was treated. But google "H-pylori" and the first thing the internet will tell you is that it's a precursor to stomach cancer.Would you have listened to the GP when your mother, (daughter / sister / wife), kept complaining of eating problems and losing weight but the GP said 'Don’t worry, it's nothing sinister' ?I guess you probably would the first time. Of course you have faith in your doctor, 'they know more than anyone', you think. 'Trust them not Google!' But what if her symptoms kept getting worse? And every time she went back, she kept being told ‘Well it's probably IBS / Indigestion / the gut is reactionary to emotions – you are probably stressed, just go for a swim’. Yes really. Wouldn’t you start to worry, after six times of being sent home with a diagnosis of ‘nothing sinister’ even though the holes in your loved one's belt running out are telling you otherwise?Would you encourage her to go see the GP one more time and just push for a colonoscopy, even though the GP insists its not necessary? Finally she agrees and signs the form for the referral. That’s all is needed, just a tiny little biro squiggle. It’s only a three month waiting list, April 17th, that’s not too bad, not long enough to warrant another appointment but not quick enough to be eased. She can distract herself by doing DIY colonic irrigations in the bathroom, try and get some relief from the constant pain in her tummy. You can buy them really easily on Amazon and they arrive the next day. Then, April 13th you get a phone call to say, its not a colonoscopy, it's just an appointment with a nurse to see if you warrant one. What? But you waited patiently. It's admin you see, Jeremy, it's really important. The NHS has loads of paperwork, it’s 'only there to protect you! 'So April 17th. Ah slight problem, the nurse wont grant a colonoscopy because it's not an urgent case. Your mother, (daughter, sister, wife), starts crying and saying ‘How sick do I have to be?’ the nurse simply replies, with ‘Well there are people who are bleeding and you are not, sooo.’ Would you try and save up cash to get her a private appointment? Scrap that, too late, she is sweating after just one teaspoon of soup. Best take her to A&E. I know I know, this is not an accident and its not an emergency, but the GP’s aren’t listening and sweating to soup is a very strange reaction.The department runs the tests, thank God they keep her overnight. Finally someone is listening.What a relief! Admitted and on the ward, a team of strangers rally around her bed like a swarm of ants as they pull the curtain round to give you the news. It’s inoperable stage 4 stomach and bowel cancer. Would you question them or would you hold on to hope because they have assured you that she only has to wait two more weeks for tests and three more after that for treatment. ‘Don’t worry the tumour wont grow, go home with the feeding tube and some Calpol, any problems, just call 111’. The main one left and the little ones all followed. Well that can’t be that bad then can she Jeremy, if she can wait several weeks and they have only prescribed Calpol? I mean that's what they give to babies. It's 2017, you tell yourself, people survive cancer all the time!She is much happier in her own bed, no noise or bright lights to keep her awake. Just sudden jolts of pain that make her writhe in her pyjamas. Don’t panic, remember what they told you. Call 111 and wait for the radiotherapy appointment.On-call GP comes out and leaves a prescription for liquid morphine. Great. But leaves you with no means of getting into your mother's (daughter's/ sister's /wife) feeding tube. Crap. What do you do? Time is of the essence. You can’t go to her GP, she misdiagnosed and has since sent the wrong prescription FOUR times and to change doctors now would take a week of admin. Instead you have a choice, seek out alternative medicines such as cannabis to help ease her pain or trust the system, just turn the music up so you don't hear her screaming.Okay moving on, its finally time for radiotherapy. Back at the same hospital you see a different doctor, he doesn’t have very good bedside manner and just talks at “Mrs (insert wrong name here) but your mum isn’t very responsive to him. Hardly surprising, he hasn’t got great chat skills. But maybe he has good drug ones?He orders a knock out dose of morphine so she can get in the ambulance and manage the 50 minute journey to treatment.Phew, finally you pull up into the car park! It's going to start getting easier now, because treatment is about to commence. Wait. Scrap that. Radiotherapy annihilates a person's immune system. My bad. Okay so it IS going to get worse, but then it's going to get better. That’s what all the professionals are telling you. SO it's important to listen! At the centre, the new doctors take one look at her and say she's unfit for treatment, send her straight back for palliative care. Who would you be more annoyed at Jeremy, the doctor who drugged her up and sent her here, or the doctors here who are sending her back? What would you do? I guess all you can do is hold her hand in the back of the ambulance as they bluelight her back to hell.Hospitals aren’t nice places and the wards are so understaffed, best if you run in first and clean her room with a wet wipe and get rid of the dirty sheets. Tuck her back into bed, the trip has exhausted her. But as soon as she wakes up, she wails in agony and it's heartbreaking to hear. If you were at home, you could just give her some weed to calm her down, but you can't here so you just press a button and wait. And wait. And wait. Hopefully she will forget this 45 minutes of wailing even if you don’t. Wouldn’t you just want to get her home? Would you resort to tweeting to try and get some help? Or would you just call your mates and ask them to push this one forward to the front of the queue, ask them to be gentle with her, and patient and kind, but speed things up so she has a chance, maybe not at a long life, but at a good quality of one? After all she’s spent a lifetime paying her taxes.Or would you trust the system and do what they all told you. Even though, they got it catastrophically wrong time and time again. Would you quit working to become her fulltime carer because there is not enough care on hand? Would you rub her tummy as the tumour in the bowel slowly eats its way across to the stomach and forms a fistula. A tunnel. Would you hold the sick boat (as she likes to call it) as you watch her bowel empty through her mouth? Would you comfort her while trying to close your eyes and beg for this image to not singe into the depths of your subconscious? You would do everything in your power to help her. Euthanasia is in your power, but you can’t do that. It’s illegal. Its inhumane! This is God's way, they say. The system is in place to protect you. You have to trust the system, I mean this is England, its 2017 for goodness sake! Have you ever heard of ‘Terminal Agitation', Jeremy? It often happens to people who are younger and aren’t meant to die yet. It's where the person's mind is healthy and well but is aware that their body is deteriorating, so as much as they try to fight it it, the battle becomes harder, they get agitated, confused, distressed, pushing loved ones away and trying to pull out tubes that keep them hydrated. When it comes to that point, its kinder to just sedate them. Just keep them very heavily sedated until their heart stops working.It’s difficult though, especially if they have a strong one. So I guess my question is, What would you do if you were in my situation Jeremy? I’m sure you have the money and the connections so its easier to access what you need. If you didn’t though, would you do everything in your power like I have? Would you do everything and anything that you could possibly think of to repay the love and kindness she has spent a short life time showing you? The only currency I have is social media, but maybe that’s not powerful enough to make a change. I would like to think if you were me, you could do more than post a status about it. In fact I guess that’s why I am trying to bring it to your attention, because if you were me, you would have the influence to never let it get this far in the first place.“