#as someone who’s mom has stage four cancer that will never go away

[dix-rose]

you know, if the royal people had Kate do a two second video of her being like “thank you for the well wishes on my surgery” when the Missington rumors started, she wouldn’t have had to make an announcement yet of what was ACTUALLY going on

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Wandering around the Raindrop Park

Lately I've been feeling kinda off - I can't quite put it into words. The weird thing is, the events that happened over the past few days don't affect me directly - as in it's directly related to stuff happening to friends that have little or nothing to do with me. It's basically me being somewhat emotionally invested in someone or something even though I barely know the person. Kinda like the whole how do you miss someone you never even knew sorta thing.

Maybe part of it has to do with a lot of changes happening around the same time in the span of roughly a year or two. By that, I'm talking about a specific group of people - Jamie's entourage, to be exact. Since the entourage disbanded, everyone has still been keeping in touch for the most part. And since then, a lot of members have moved on, pursuing bigger things, working on new projects, coming a long way since the entourage days. A lot of them were just starting out back then and now here they are.

A couple weeks ago, Roselle passed away. It wasn't a surprise since she told us about her prognosis last year, but still sad nonetheless. She was a former teen idol actress and singer turned director with her own production company that she co-founded with a friend. I became a fan of her during her Amanda Savannah days, a role that shot her to stardom as a kid. Like many in her position, she had a sort of love-hate relationship with the character who made her famous.

After Amanda Savannah ended, Roselle wanted to take a break from acting to focus on college. During that hiatus, Roselle was going through a lot of changes, including being diagnosed with stage four cancer. Nearly a decade after Amanda Savannah, Roselle reemerged from the public, starting from the ground up as a director. As for acting and singing, she was willing to keep that open, but realistically, the chances of her going back to either one were slim to none.

I remember when I last hung out with Roselle, about a year ago, when we visited Windcrest Wolf, not too long after the beginning of the end. Roselle has been keeping us updated with her video diary, Business as Usual, which is basically about her final year. The end was quick for her, which is what she had hoped for, so she was able to carry on for as long as she could. In her final entry she said that she was at peace with her life and that she was ready to go, ready to see her mom again after all these years. A few days later she was gone.

That's why I'm here with Jamie and Nedra at the Raindrop Park. Well, part of the reason - there's another thing too. Another death unfortunately, one of someone who I never got to meet.

Two former entourage members, actress Nedra Aylen and stuntman Allan Townshend crossed paths due to a tragedy. Allan's cousin Stef was one of Nedra's close friends at Starling who was gravely injured in a motorcycle accident. The crash left Stef in a coma for years before passing away weeks ago, a few days after Roselle's death.

According to Nedra, Stef and Allan didn't have a good relationship as Stef was abused by his parents. I don't know Allan as well as Nedra, but he comes across as someone who's making an effort to right his wrongs. It still doesn't make up for his past actions, which he is aware of. The two visit Stef at the care center but other than that, they don't interact with each other much.

Given how different Nedra and Allan are in terms of their social circles/personality/upbringing, and such, it's unexpected that they ended up crossing paths through Jamie. Nedra's a classical actress, preferring the stage over the screen while being prolific in both. Allan does stunt work, which I don't know too much about, but basically it means he and Nedra, although they were in the same entourage, had absolutely nothing in common other than Stef.

People always talk about how important it is to form connections, especially through tragedy. You'd think that Nedra and Allan would at least be able to bond over that, but in reality, you can't always share your burdens with someone. In the case of Nedra and Allan - at least the way I see it through Nedra - them being friends won't do much with that burden they carry. That's not to say they're dealing with their problems alone - in fact, they're quite well adjusted despite the circumstances - it's just that they don't need to seek each other to help cope.

It's not that they dislike each other, it's just the fact that they're so different in such a way that forming a connection would feel forced. Nedra says they do keep in touch but other than that, they don't feel the need to keep up with each other. It's good to form connections, but sometimes there's people you just don't feel the need for a strong bond with, and that's okay.

I have a feeling that's the case with Nedra and Allan - they share a struggle but don't need to rely on each other to pull through. Sometimes it just works out like that.

Nedra believes that Allan wants to make peace with Stef, which is why he visits her regularly. Although he and Stef were never friends, they were close to coming to some sort of a truce, with Allan more likely to side with Stef than against her. After all, why would Stef decide to intervene on that fateful day when Allan backed himself into a corner? I imagine the guilt of surviving the accident as well as being the reason why it happened is what pushed Allan over the edge. Nedra says it's not up to her to forgive him for how he treated Stef, but she's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt as what he's going through is punishment enough.

Like with Roselle, Stef's death wasn't unexpected either. By then, Nedra knew that she was already long gone. She says it feels like a weight off her shoulders, the relief of knowing that Stef can finally rest in peace instead of being stuck in limbo. I can't imagine being in Stef's position, stuck to machines keeping me alive even though it's futile. I don't think I'd want to be kept alive on life support if it won't do anything except prolong the inevitable.

When I'm gone, let me go. I don't want to die a slow death where I become nothing but a husk of who I was.

Nedra stuck with her to the very end. Allan was there too but he kept his distance. The end came quickly and quietly, her heart stopped beating and that was it. She says it's been rough, but not as difficult as she thought it would be. Then again, she said she already made her peace with losing Stef so I think that helped a bit.

I can't imagine losing two friends in a short time like what Nedra's going through right now. That's why Jamie invited her along her travels so she can take some much needed time off, leading to us crossing paths at the Raindrop Park. Before coming here, Jamie and Nedra spent the weekend at the Sparkling Spa Resort, which they said they enjoyed a lot.

After the Raindrop Park they weren't sure where they were gonna go next before deciding on the camp. The timing happens to be perfect as another entourage member's gonna drop by later on along with some other friends for a fun event. It'll be good for Nedra and Jamie to see Jean again as we were talking about how she's one of the busier members.

Maybe one day I'll get Marlo to meet Jean and Nedra as she's big fans of them. She and Don are planning to come back, likely during a camp event, so maybe I can finally make her dreams come true. I told Nedra about Marlo and she's totally down for a get together with her and knowing Jean, she'll be all for it too. Now, if only we can find a date and time when all three are available...

The Raindrop Park is one of those places where it's easy to get lost in. Watching the raindrops fall is strangely mesmerizing, I can't take my eyes off them. In a way, I think it's a good thing, probably because I've had so much on my mind regarding the stuff I just mentioned, so maybe I needed to take the time to process the information. That, and of course, writing my thoughts out once I finally found the words.

Along with the mesmerizing raindrops, another thing that sticks out to me is the decor, like the benches. I really like the leafy designs of the benches and lampposts - a lot of art inspiration around here. The foliage is lovely too and the raindrops really add to the aesthetic. I'm partial to rainy days so of course I'd be drawn to something like this. The cloudy, somewhat gloomy sky seems fitting enough as well. Even though it's gray, there's still some sunlight poking through, so it's not completely dark.

The fog in my mind's clearing up a bit, even more so now that I've put my thoughts on paper. I also think being with Jamie and Nedra also helped, especially knowing that Nedra's gonna be all right. It's rough, but as she said, she's made peace with it. And as for Roselle, she was able to make the most out of the time she had left so she was able to leave with no regrets.

I hope that when the end comes for me, I can leave the world the same way Roselle did. Is that asking for too much?

[jalapeno-princess]

Until We Meet Again

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: Mentions of death, depression, a very sad Mark (I’m so sorry) suicide (and the reader has cancer) so please don’t read if you’re easily triggered

Word Count: 11.4K

Summary: After getting the news that you had stage four brain cancer, your boyfriend Mark makes it his responsibility to make sure your last days on earth are some of the best days of your life.

A/N: I had an idea about writing an imagine based on the movie “A Walk to Remember” I highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it it’s one of my favorite movies but make sure you have a box of tissues ready because it’s a tear jerker. I actually started tearing up while writing this because I can picture how sad Mark would be if he lost his significant other. I debated for a while on whether or not I should post this but I decided to do so, read at your own risk. I also listened to “XO” by Beyonce when writing this so feel free to listen to that while reading.

Your love is bright as ever Even in the shadows Baby kiss me Before they turn the lights out Your heart is glowing And I'm crashing into you Baby kiss me Before they turn the lights out Before they turn the lights out Baby love me lights outIn the darkest night hour (in the darkest night hour) I'll search through the crowd (I'll search through the crowd) Your face is all that I see I'll give you everything Baby love me lights out Baby love me lights out You can turn my lights out

“She has stage 4 brain cancer. I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. Y/n only has 6 months left to live, if she’s lucky. We’ve done all there is we could do Mr.Tuan. You just have to make the most of her time left.”

Have you ever been in a situation where you physically felt your heart sink to your stomach? That’s exactly how Mark was feeling when your doctor brought him in to his office to give him the bad news. Just a few hours ago, you had passed out at work and were rushed to the hospital. Your coworkers felt as if it could have been from exhaustion or malnutrition since you were currently working on a business deal that had taken up all your time and energy. However, a few of the EMTs felt like there was something else, unfortunately something worse that was going on but they didn’t want to assume anything until an actual doctor examined you.

While you were sleeping, the resident doctor had the nurses run an x-ray and some other tests on you. It was then that they found a tumor in your brain the size of a quarter. Since he was your emergency contact, your boyfriend didn’t hesitate in leaving his job and practically sprinted towards the hospital to be with you.

You weren’t one to ever get sick. Sure, you had a few colds here and there; and there was one time you had the stomach flu, but that was it. You were one of the healthiest people Mark knew. Not only did you exercise on a daily basis, but you tried to watch what you’d eat and drank. After practically escaping two speeding tickets, he parked in the hospital’s parking lot and stormed in to the emergency room. He was so in shock; Mark wasn’t physically able to form coherent words as the receptionist asked him what he was doing there. Luckily your name fell from his lips on instinct and he was sure he probably looked like a mad man with his body frozen and eyes wide opened but he didn’t care. He was so worried for your health and your safety, nothing else mattered to him in that moment.

The receptionist gave him your room number and he murmured a quick thank you before storming his way down the hall. Mark hated hospitals; they were extremely eerie and creepy. Other than pregnancies, nothing good ever came from hospitals. Your boyfriend was completely aware of your hatred of having to stay in the hospital, so his mind wouldn’t stop wandering to you and how you were doing.

Once he made his way in to your room and saw you sleeping peacefully on the bed with a bunch of wires and tubes hooked on to your body, he released a breath of relief. However, he felt himself tense up at the sight of you looking so exhausted and so small. The bags under your eyes were prominent and your face was so pale; he was sure the image of you looking so fragile would be etched in to his mind for a long time.

He hurriedly made his way toward you and sank to his knees, reaching for your hands and leaving soft kisses on the back of them. He then began to run his fingers through your hair while whispering sweet nothings in your ear. When he realized there wasn’t a chance of you waking up any time soon, he decided to call your mom and let her know what happened.

You and Mark have been dating for almost 6 years and you’ve known each other for over 10. Other than your family, Mark was one of the only people you genuinely loved and trusted with your entire life. He was your best friend, your soulmate, your safe haven and you meant equally and if not more to him as he did to you. From the beginning of your friendship up until now, he had a close relationship with your family to the point where sometimes you felt they loved him just a little bit more than they did you. With that being said, it was only natural for him to want to inform your mom of your current well-being and the fact that you were in the hospital after fainting.

Mark wasn’t one who could just sit around and do nothing, especially when the love of his life was currently in the hospital; so he began pacing back and forth around the room waiting for your parent’s arrival. When the door opened, he was quick to turn around expecting to see your mom walk in, but he felt his anxiety levels rise when a doctor entered the room.

“Hello, I’m Dr.Phillip. Are you a relative of the patient?” Mark shook his head in disagreement before motioning to you.

“I’m her boyfriend.” Your doctor released a long sigh, one that Mark picked up on as a negative sign.

“Could you follow me for a moment? There’s something I need to tell you about y/n.” As much as he didn’t want to leave you alone, with the way the doctor was acting, he had a feeling it had to be serious. Something didn’t feel right, he knew there had to be a bigger problem other than fatigue and stress going on with you. His assumptions were soon proven true once the first few words fell from the older man’s mouth.

“We found a tumor in her brain. Unfortunately, we found it a little too late. I’m surprised it took so long for her body to react to it, but sometimes the cancer spreads slowly without her body having any side effects.”

Once Mark heard the word cancer, he felt as if his whole world collapsed. There was no way you of all people could have cancer. He couldn’t think; couldn’t breathe. Everything the doctor said went through one ear and out the other. His entire chest felt as if it was about to combust.

“There’s no way—the tests have to be wrong—y/n can’t have cancer—she’s so healthy—she takes such amazing care of herself—you have to do the cat scan again doc there’s no way—“ When Mark began to sob and sink to his knees, your doctor walked over to him and tried his best in comforting him. This had to be a nightmare. The thought of losing you was one he couldn’t bare to accept. He had to be dreaming. All he had to do was wake up and you’d be right there next to him, smiling at him adoringly like nothing was wrong. But deep down he knew this was real, and he’s never experienced this type of pain before.

“What—what can we do for her? Chemo? Is there any drugs she can take? Surgery? You guys can remove it can’t you? That’s your job! You’re supposed to save lives—please—please save my girlfriend—I’m begging you. She’s too young to die—I—I can’t live without her.”

The blank expression on the doctor’s face answered Mark’s question for him and soon he was practically screaming. He didn’t care if he was over reacting or if they’d bring security to kick him out; he was just told that his girlfriend, his best friend, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with had terminal cancer. There was no way he could act civil and calm in a situation like this—he wanted to die.

“I’m so sorry son, but there’s nothing we can do. The tumor is too big for us to take out and even if we could, this is her brain we’re talking about. One wrong move and you could lose her even sooner—“

“Please don’t say that. I’m sure there’s so much more you assholes can do this is a person’s life we’re talking about. My person! The only person who means anything to me! If it was you, if it was your child, your wife, your mother, your sister, someone you cared deeply about, I’m sure you’d be acting the exact same way as I am right now.”

Your boyfriend was extremely stubborn. Sure, he was very polite, kind-hearted, soft-spoken and generous; but whenever it came to something he was genuinely passionate about, he wasn’t afraid to speak up and fight for what he felt was right. No matter who he was speaking up against. Mark was aware of how disrespectful he was acting toward your doctor, and he was trying so hard to understand the fact that the older man was doing his best in helping you, but it wasn’t enough for him. He did the unthinkable and sank to his knees.

“Please, do whatever you can to keep my girlfriend alive. I’ll do anything.” Dr.Phillip gave your boyfriend a few minutes to calm down before motioning for him to stand up.

“If she does chemo, it’ll prolong her life for a few more months. She has stage 4 brain cancer. I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. Y/n only has 6 months left to live, if she’s lucky. We’ve done all there is we could do Mr.Tuan. You just have to make the most of her time left.”

Mark let out a scoff before storming out of his office and making his way back to you. His tears were hot against his cheeks as they fell and he practically broke the door as he opened it, not wanting to be away from you any longer. As soon as his eyes landed on your mom as she held your hands in hers, his tears began to overflow as his sons grew louder.

Your boyfriend wanted to be strong, especially because he had a huge feeling things were going to go downhill once he gave your parents the news. Out of all your siblings, you and your mom had the closest relationship. Mark knew just how much you meant to one another and he knew the only person who loved you as much as he did was her. So he was confident her world would come crumbling down just as his did once he heard about your condition.

“Mark sweetie, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He took no time in pulling her against his chest and continued to sob in to her hair. His grip was tight on her shoulders and countless apologies fell from his lips only worrying your mother even more than she already was.

“Y/n—y/n—she—she um—stage four cancer—brain tumor—6 months to live—“ he couldn’t even finish explaining to her what the doctor told him before she sank to the ground in hysterics. Hearing her cries fill the room was all too much for Mark to handle. It was a slap in the face by reality that this was really happening and he was going to lose you.

The two of them stayed like that on the floor for what felt like hours to Mark just holding one another while crying uncontrollably. Nurses came in and out of the room to change your iv and to see how you were doing, but it was overwhelming even for them to see Mark and your mom breaking down. After a few moments, your parents wanted to speak to the doctor themselves, leaving Mark all alone with you and the negative thoughts that were taking up his entire mind.

6 months. He had approximately only 6 months with you. How was he supposed accept this information? 6 months was nothing, not when he believed he was going to spend the rest of his life with you. What was he going to do? Two days went by and Mark did not leave your side once. At all. He informed his family and a few of his close friends about what happened and the love and support he was receiving from everyone was nice, but it wasn’t enough to fill the hole that was now in his heart.

He couldn’t eat nor has he gotten any sleep since he heard about you getting administered in to the hospital and everyone started to worry for him but they knew not to get involved. You were all Mark knew and wanted to know. From the time he woke up to the time he went to sleep, you were all he ever thought about. How much he loved you, how much you meant to him, what your future together was going to look like; he couldn’t get you off of his mind not that he ever wanted to.

To his dismay, both your parents and his parents forced him to go home and get some rest, telling him that you wouldn’t be happy if you knew how he was acting towards this entire situation. Everyone was hurting for him. Anybody who knew the two of you were completely aware that if soulmates existed, you and Mark were each other’s. Wherever you went, Mark followed. Whatever you did, Mark did too. The two of you were like magnets; peas in a pod. It was completely understandable for him to be acting like this. Your boyfriend felt like a stranger in his own body. He felt lifeless. Even when he went home, your absence was taunting him. All your clothes, pictures, makeup, your little trinkets; they were driving him insane.

One day, this was all going to be memorabilia. Things that you’ve owned; it would only remind him of your untimely death and he wanted nothing more than to punch a wall out of frustration. The only thing he did once he walked through your shared apartment was take a shower. Showering felt like such a chore to him. What normally took him fifteen to twenty minutes almost took an hour because he just stood there crying.

If he was already acting like this while you were in a coma, Mark was afraid of what life would be life if you were to actually leave. Almost two days later, Mark got a call from your mom telling him that you were awake and that you knew everything. He found himself asking Jinyoung to take him to the hospital because God knows he wouldn’t have been able to drive there himself. Jinyoung had to calm him down as they waited for the elevators and it seemed as if his patience was at an all time low.

Right as he was about to make his way to the stairs, the doors opened and he fumbled with pressing the buttons to your floor. Your entire family was waiting outside of your room and he felt a pang of hurt hit his chest with every sympathetic look he was receiving. He felt selfish for wanting to be alone with you, but once he walked in to the room and saw that you were awake, he practically threw himself at you and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, fuck—shit I’m sorry baby—I’ve missed you so much.” He stole a kiss from the corner of your mouth and didn’t even hold himself back from crying. His choked back sobs made your heart ache and you found yourself erupting in tears also. Your parents quietly made their way outside to give you both some space as the two of you held each other and cried. He began leaving chaste kisses all around your face and cupped your cheeks with his hands before roughly connecting your lips together. His lips were salty from the tears and you knew he hasn’t been taking care of himself with how chapped they felt, but you missed the feeling of his warm lips on yours and you wanted him to kiss you as much as he desired to. To his dismay, you pulled away to catch your breath and placed your forehead against his.

“Mark.” He hummed softly in curiosity as you made room for him on the bed. “Hold me?” He gave you a sad smile and joined you on the bed, all but gently wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you on top of his lap.

When your mother informed you about your cancer, you couldn’t believe a word she was saying. You’ve always read stories and watched videos about other people getting diagnosed with cancer and you always felt so sad for the patients; especially with everything they had to go through. You just never thought that it would happen to you. Nobody thinks something bad will happen to them until it does. You cried with your mom; the idea of leaving this earth before really getting to experience your life felt unreal. You didn’t want to be without your family, your friends—Mark.

When she gave you the bad news, your mind immediately drifted off to your boyfriend. Did he know? Of course he had to, you faintly remember your mom mentioning how he got in to an argument with your doctor, held her as she cried and how he always stayed with you for the last few days. You knew Mark would take your diagnosis the worst. Seeing him so pale, so emaciated brought tears to your cheeks. He was always so sensitive and so emotional which was one of the many things you loved about him. But with the way he pampered you, took such amazing care of you and needed to be with you as much as he could only worried you. You were afraid of what he was going to do once it was your time to go.

“You haven’t been eating have you, you’re already so skinny. You need to eat—“ his brows furrowed as he tightened his grip on your waist.

“How am I supposed to do anything at a time like this y/n?” You frowned although you knew where he was coming from. You brought your fingers up to his face and playfully attempted to lift up his lips in to a smile but he wasn’t having it.

“Smile for me baby, please? I’ve missed seeing your award winning smile. I’ve missed you. I didn’t even realize how long I’ve been gone for.” He looked at you in disbelief; as if you grew another head.

“How are you being so positive right now? I feel pathetic. Like I’m failing as a boyfriend. I’m supposed to be strong for you, hell, I’m not even the one going through this but I can’t seem to stop crying. What is wrong with me?”

You ran your fingers through his soft, brown locks and sent him a broken smile. “You’re human my love. It’s okay for you to be frustrated and upset. I was when the doctor talked to me. I almost didn’t believe him at first—I mean I didn’t want to believe him. Who wants to die? I’m only twenty-four years old. There’s so many things I want to do and now my life is being put to an end before it can even start. It isn’t fair, but I’m trying to stay positive about it because I don’t want to remember wasting my last few months here on earth being depressed about something that I have no control over. If it’s my time, then it’s my time. I know God has a plan for me and that he’ll take good care of me; so we just have to take this one day at a time.”

Mark’s chest began to heave against your back and you turned yourself around in order to hover on top of his lap. You brought your hand up to cup his face and wiped away a few of his tears.

“Y/n, I hope you know, that I love you with every fiber of my being and I’m going to spend every single day with you to the point where you’ll probably get tired of me but it doesn’t matter. You’re not going to suffer through this alone, you hear me? I’m going to be by your side every step of the way. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do for you to make this situation a little more easier. I’ll do anything for you.”

You beamed up at him and playfully stole a few sloppy kisses while toying with his fingers. “Why don’t you make a bucket list? I want you to come up with anything you want to do and I promise I’ll do my best to make sure we do it.”

No matter how upset and heartbroken you were over your diagnosis, your heart felt so warm with the way Mark was treating you. Even before the two of you started dating, your boyfriend was always so kind and gentle whenever it came to you and he always put you first in every single situation. Looking at him hurt. Knowing that you would no longer get to feel the warmth of his embrace; kissing his pretty, pink lips; hearing that beautiful contagious laughter of his sent a painful sensation to your stomach. The love you had for one another was indescribable.

He was like your lifeline and you knew he was suffering with retaining this information. If it was the other way around and he was the one who was sick, you would probably die of heartbreak. You never wanted to be without him and it was the same for him.

“Oh like anal?” He looked at you in disbelief before his choked up laughter filled the room.

“I mean—if that’s what you want baby—don’t make me laugh y/n. God, what am I going to do without you?” You shook your head and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“Can you do something for me Mark?” He quickly nodded in agreement knowing he would do anything you asked of him in a heartbeat. “Let’s pretend as if nothing is wrong with me? Okay? I don’t want you to look at me as your sick girlfriend. I don’t want to be treated like a cancer patient. I want to live what’s left of my life freely. I know it’ll be hard, but I don’t want us to be sad.”

He took in a deep breath and nodded softly in agreement. The two of you stayed like that for a couple of moments, just basking in the other’s presence. Some of your family members and a few nurses came in and out of your room every so often but neither of you really paid them any mind. You were too focused on each other. Just a few days later, you were released from the hospital and were given the okay to return back to work with the responsibility of not overworking yourself. You were also given medication along with a meal plan to help with prolonging your health.

The doctor who helped you throughout your entire stay recommended chemotherapy and even waved your entire hospital fee. Mark knew it had a lot to do with their conversation a few days prior and even if he was an asshole to the older man, he was very grateful for all that he tried to do for you in the short amount of time you were administered.

Mark wasn’t lying when he said he was never going to leave your side. Wherever you went, your boyfriend trailed right behind you. He attended every single doctor’s appointment, went with you grocery shopping; he even went with you to the bathroom and patiently sat on the floor. As much as you hated being a burden, you knew he was adamant on spending as much time with you as possible. When you were released from the hospital, you began to plan out your entire bucket list together. You tried to make it as realistic as you could; but you threw in a few things that were extremely out of the box.

“You want to skydive? But you hate heights.” You shrugged indifferently.

“I know you used to hate whenever BamBam and Yugyeom would say this, but yolo. I also want to go skiing in Colorado and bungee jumping in Hawaii. You gotta keep up with me Tuan.”

He grinned at your sarcasm before continuing to look over your ideas. “Wait—you were serious about the kinky shit? Bdsm y/n? I mean—don’t get me wrong baby I’m all for it but—“ you rolled your eyes and playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Can’t have sex in the afterlife so might as well make the most of it while I still can. By the way, I mean it on you. I’ve always wanted to use a blindfold on you and tie you to the bed.”

“How are you going to explain all of this to God when he asks about your sinful decisions?”

“YOLO.”

The more time you and Mark spent together, the more he’d forget about your sickness and short amount of time left on earth. If he didn’t think about it, he would enjoy his time with you. But the more he’d listen to you laugh at something cheesy he said or the way you’d hold on to him while the two of you lounged around on your days off made his heart hurt.

He knew it was the moments like these that he was going to miss the most. When it was just the two of you having fun, enjoying the other’s presence. Mark would never show you that he was extremely miserable because he didn’t want you feeling worried or upset; so he found himself crying in the shower and sometimes in the middle of the night while you slept peacefully. You were so strong during the entire process and Mark was so proud of you for fighting so hard.

Only two weeks after your stay in the hospital, you decided to quit your job in order to focus on your boyfriend, your friends and your family and to spend your days doing things you loved without having anything to stress over. One by one, you and Mark began to cross things off your bucket list. As much as you wanted to travel around the world, you knew that there was more important things you actually had to spend your money on; but what you didn’t know was that your family secretly purchased both your’s and Mark’s tickets and even paid for your hotel rooms so that you and your boyfriend could experience your dream adventure together.

The two of you took a tour throughout Europe; you have always dreamt about going to Greece and Italy from the time you were a little girl and you had thought that one day you’d be able to do so with Mark. Your trip was everything you could have ever wanted and more. You got to visit every monument and scenic point that was on your itinerary, ate till your stomachs were full and took pictures practically everywhere. Everything was so exciting to you that you failed to notice your boyfriend taking hundreds of photos and countless videos of you.

On his downtime, he began to make a album in his phone dedicated to you with thousands of both pictures and videos of you from the time you started dating up until now. He even printed out numerous about of photos and started a photo book that he could look back on whenever he missed you but deep down, Mark already knew he would never be able to look at any picture or photo of you without crying a river. When the two of you returned back, he gave you no time to unpack your things and surprised you with tickets to Hawaii.

Besides Europe, Hawaii was in your top three places you wanted to travel to because of how beautiful it looked in photos and because of the love you had for the beach. Mark even booked a skydiving appointment on your initial first day and although a huge part of you was scared out of your mind to fall out of a plane that was 20,000 feet in the air, you felt like you could do anything with Mark by your side. It was such an amazing experience; you felt so free, so powerful. Seeing how far you were from the ground was intimidating, but the comforting caress against your wrist made it all worth your while.

You both spent every second doing something adventurous; rock climbing, atv cruising, zip lining and horseback riding. He also took you to a couple of beaches and the two of you would just cuddle up on the sand and watch the waves crash up on to the shore. It all seemed too good to be true; you had no responsibilities, no worries, no regrets and you were traveling the world with the love of your life. You couldn’t have been more happier.

However, everything seemed to come crashing down the minute you started chemotherapy. Your doctor explained that chemotherapy helped with extending your life and you took any chance you were given. When you and Mark arrived back home from your trip, you went straight to your doctor’s office and began scheduling your chemotherapy sessions. You’ve read countless horror stories about the negative effects of chemotherapy and it was in those moments, hearing about how lethargic and exhausted you’d get, the loss of appetite and how quickly your hair would fall out made it all the more real that this was actually happening.

Your hair began to fall out during the first session and you decided to shave your head bald before it could actually fall out completely. When you took a look in the mirror, you cried for what felt like hours. You felt so ugly; especially when your eyebrows started falling out. This caused you to lash out on Mark every so often; you grew extremely unhappy and felt so insecure no matter how many times Mark reassured you that you were still and would always be the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. Your boyfriend hated seeing you so bothered with the way you looked knowing that there was nothing you could do about it.

As much as he despised hearing you talk so negatively about yourself, he knew it was only natural for you to act this way. To your surprise and your delight, you woke up that next morning to the sound of a buzzer and when you got up out of bed to find the source of the buzzing noise, it was then that you saw Mark shaving both his hair and his eyebrows off. Your heart felt so warm and you were sure it was about to combust with all the love you felt for the devastatingly handsome man in front of you. You didn’t know what you did to deserve Mark; he was nothing but patient with you no matter how harsh you could treat him some days.

He knew you didn’t mean it, anger and hostility was a side effect of the chemo and the only thing he could do in order to help you was support you and be there for you no matter how rude you were treating him. “I hate how good you look with no hair, it’s unfair. Thank you for doing this for me by the way—you don’t understand how much it means to me—how much you mean to me. You mean so much to me Mark—you mean everything—I love you more than I can put in to words.”

He giggled softly before kissing away the tears that were coming down your cheeks. “I guess you haven’t seen yourself these days. You look breathtakingly beautiful baby. I’m so sorry you have to go through this; I know I say it every single day but it’s the truth. It’s so hard for me watching you suffer and not being able to help carry this burden with you no matter how badly I want to. I want you to know that you’re so fucking beautiful y/n. With and without hair, with and without make up, with and without eyebrows. With and without clothes—ow! I’m being serious stop being abusive. Don’t you dare for one minute think you’re ugly, you hear me? I told you I wasn’t going to let you go through this alone didn’t I? Come on my beautiful cry baby, let’s go take some pictures of our adorable matching bald heads. Honestly, I think we look ten times better, who needs hair?”

A wise man once said, time flies when you’re having fun. As the days continued to go by, you only grew weaker and you had to slow down with your movements. Most of your time was spent in your apartment, but it didn’t matter. You loved every single minute spent cuddled in to Mark’s chest. Mark was constantly reminded of the little time you had left as he watched your frame only get smaller and it was driving him insane. Life wasn’t fair. Your boyfriend didn’t think he was a bad guy.

He was religious for the most part; attended church every so often but prayed every single day. He never smoked nor did any drugs and only drank on occasion. His grades were impeccable; he strived for A’s and B’s and never accepted any lower grade; so why was he being punished? Why was the only good thing that’s ever happened to him, the only thing that has ever meant anything to him being taken away from him so soon? And you; you were such a bright, happy-go-lucky, golden-hearted person; why did you have to suffer and go through so much pain?

Your boyfriend decided to give you something that you’ve always wanted after talking to his friends about the idea. He was going to ask you to marry him. There were so many times where the two of you talked about your future; where you wanted to have your wedding at, how many kids you’ve dreamt of having, where you wanted to settle down—he couldn’t believe he was never going to be able to experience any of these milestones with you, which is why he found himself sneaking away while you were asleep to ask your parents for their blessing.

Your mom smiled softly at him when he brought up the idea of marrying you; it was the biggest smile he’s seen on her since you found out about the cancer and your dad was extremely supportive about the whole thing. In fact, your parents offered to pay for the entire wedding. Whatever you desired, they were willing to give you. Before he could leave, your mom pulled him in to a hug and comfortingly ran her hand along his back.

“I’ve never seen someone love another person as much as you and y/n love each other. From the minute the two of you began dating, I knew you guys were meant to be. You make her very happy Mark. I’m so sorry this had to happen. But thank you for taking such amazing care of my baby girl. Just know that you are the reason why she’s still alive. She’s going to fight to stay alive till her final breath and it’s all because of you. You’re her angel Mark and she is yours. She’ll always be.”

He wanted to be strong in front of your parents, but he couldn’t prevent the tears from falling at your mother’s words. Your mom held him and allowed him to cry for a couple of minutes before she told him to head back over to you. As soon as he left your parent’s house, he met up with Jackson and BamBam to look for the ideal engagement ring. You deserved nothing but the best and your boyfriend was going to make sure that’s what you received. He had Youngjae and Jinyoung stay with you while the three of them went shopping because he hated the idea of you being alone. You were still mobile, but it took you longer to get around and he didn’t want you moving a finger if you didn’t have to.

Bringing Jackson and BamBam was a mistake; not only were they extremely picky, but they couldn’t agree on a ring. If BamBam liked a ring, Jackson would find something wrong with it and vice versa. Either the diamond was too small or too big; the baby was too thick or too wide. There wasn’t a ring that caught their eye. Mark however, couldn’t stop over-choosing to the point where he had selected at least eight different rings. The three men stayed longer than your boyfriend had hoped. He wanted to hurry up and propose to you so that the two of you could get married and spend the rest of your days as a newlywed couple.

After almost an hour, the jeweler pulled Mark to the side and had him explain his love for you, describe your personality, your likes, your personal style and what he’d think you’d want in a wedding ring. He then brought out the prettiest diamond ring Mark has ever seen. It was simple, but yet extremely elegant and eye catching; just like you. It was a gold band with a nicely sized diamond with two smaller diamonds on either side.

Your boyfriend didn’t care what the other two thought; he felt it was perfect and deep down, he knew you’d love it. After purchasing the ring, he picked up a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a couple balloons, a cake and some food on his way home. His mind was filled with worry and he was growing distressed and he didn’t know why. But Jackson and BamBam tried their best to calm him down.

The two younger guys knew you were going to say yes; even if Mark were to propose with a ring pop you’d still be over the moon. When he arrived home, he smiled at the image of you smashed in between Youngjae and Jinyoung while watching something on Netflix. He was also quick to notice Yugyeom and Jaebum sitting on the ground, wanting to be as close to you as possible. You giggled at something you saw and Mark found himself smiling at how adorable you were. He took a look at his friends and he felt embarrassed as the tears built up seeing how much they loved and cared about you.

To say they were devastated when they heard of the news was an understatement. In fact, that was the first time Mark has ever seen Jinyoung and Yugyeom cry. You’ve been in their lives for as long as you’ve been in Mark’s, so it was only natural for them to have grown attached to you and you treated them all like they were your older brothers. The three younger boys took it the hardest; there was a point after your first chemo session that BamBam had to stay away because seeing you so broken and not your usual excited and outgoing self was heartbreaking and too much for him to handle. However, after a talk from Jaebum and Jackson about how they needed to spend as much time with you as possible, he visited you whenever Mark allowed them to come over. When you noticed your boyfriend and your two friends make their way in to the apartment, you attempted to stand up and walk over to greet them, but the right grip on your biceps ultimately prevented you from doing so.

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down fast and the furious, he’s coming y/n. Don’t you dare move a pretty little finger.” You released a frustrated sigh and pouted adorably up at Jinyoung. It was like this the entire day; whenever you wanted to do something, eat, or go to use the bathroom, the guys were quick to do whatever you needed for you. Although you were grateful for their kindness and generosity, there were times that you’ve missed being able to do even the most simplest tasks such as your laundry and doing the dishes on your own. Mark briskly walked over to you and placed a sweet kiss on your lips before cupping your cheek.

“Did the guys take good care of you today?” Your laughter erupted through the room when you heard both Youngjae and Yugyeom scoff at your boyfriend’s question before nodding.

“They didn’t let me do anything at all. Jaebum carried me to the bathroom three times. Jinyoung doesn’t even let me touch the remote.” He giggled at your frustration before politely thanking his friends.

“Can you guys help me bring her to the room?” They all began giving each other knowing looks and grinned widely when they realized what was going to happen. You on the other hand looked at your boyfriend in confusion but decided to let it go. Mark picked you up bridal style but had the guys help him to make sure you didn’t hit the wall or anything along the way. Once you all made it to your room, he placed you down gently on the bed and handed you the flowers. The guys slowly left the room but not before wishing Mark good luck and sending you a few winks. You thanked him before reaching out to run a hand through his hair.

“Everything okay my love?” He nodded slowly before making his way to your side of the bed and you gasped as he got down on one knee. You couldn’t process entirely what was happening, but your heart felt so full. Mark was going to propose to you; when you were first told about your condition, you gave up any idea of getting married because you knew you wouldn’t live long enough to walk down the aisle. Your boyfriend always had tricks up his sleeve and he didn’t even get to say anything yet; you were already crying.

“Baby.”

You looked down at him with so much love and admiration and allowed him to continue. “These last few years have been the best years of my entire life and I owe it all to you. You’ve shown me so much love, compassion, support and kindness throughout our relationship. Only a few months after we started dating, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You’re my best friend y/n. My soulmate. My safe haven. My happy place. You make me the happiest man alive and there’s nothing I would love more than for you to say yes to being my wife. I love you y/n, more than I can fathom in to words. You mean everything to me. I know you didn’t write it down on the list, but we’ve been together long enough for me to know you like the back of my hand baby. You’ve been talking about marriage even before we started dating. I wanted to be able to grant this wish for you. I have the wedding already planned out, all that’s needed is for you to say yes. Y/n, will you marry me?”

You took no time in connecting your lips together and smiled widely in to the kiss as your way of saying yes. The tears were hot against your cheeks; the beautiful man in front of you was truly an angel sent to you from heaven to take care of you and it was an indescribable feeling.

“Yes, yes, yes! I love you so much Mark—I can’t wait to marry you. The ring is perfect baby. Thank you so much. You’re extraordinary.” He jumped on the bed with you and pulled you on top of his chest while roughly connecting your lips together. Your hands made their way around his neck as his gripped tightly on your waist. The two of you were so invested in kissing one another that Mark failed to remember the six other guys waiting patiently outside the door to hear the good news.

“I’ll be right back my love. I’m gonna go kick the guys out so I can show you just how excited I am to marry you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before making his way out in to the living room. Your fiancé left the door ajar, so you could hear the entire conversation with him and your friends and it made you blush.

“She said yes! We’re getting married guys! Thank you for everything you’ve done for us so far. I can’t wait to see her walk down the aisle.” The room filled with cheers and laughter and soon Mark was being pulled in to multiple embraces.

“Congratulations bro! Shall we celebrate now? Bring out the cake Yugyeom—“ Mark scratched the back of his neck shyly before speaking up.

“Um, about that—my fiancée and I would like to celebrate alone if that’s alright. You guys can all come back later if you’d want to.” He earned himself a few cheeky smiles and a couple of snide comments, but it was all in good fun. Luckily the guys were extremely understanding and left your apartment to let you and Mark relinquish in your love for one another.

We don't have forever Ooh, baby daylight's wasting You better kiss me Before our time has run out Mmm yeah Nobody sees what we see They're just hopelessly gazing, oh Oh, baby take me, me Before they turn the lights out Before our time has run out Baby love me lights out

After a passionate afternoon of intense and steamy love making, you and Mark ordered some pizza and watched a couple of movies before you both called it a night. Over the course of two weeks, you and Mark began your wedding planning and what was normally an exhausting experience for most brides, went very smoothly for you. You knew it’s because Mark did most of the contacting and the planning in general; he bribed his friends with some beer and fried chicken to help with writing and sending out the invitations. All you had to do was find your dream dress and pick out the kind of cake and food you wanted. Everything else, Mark took care of.

As much as you had dreamt of getting married at a beach, he wanted to have the wedding somewhere that would be easy for you to be pushed around in a wheelchair. Seeing you so dependent and incapable of even walking especially since you were always so independent made him feel bad. He was aware of how much it bothered you having to ask for help when you were always the one helping others. Your fiancé wanted you to be comfortable throughout the entire ceremony and to enjoy every second of it without being in any pain or discomfort. It seemed as if everything went by so fast and before you knew it, the day of your wedding finally came.

You went over to your parent’s house to get ready; you had voiced your opinion about whether or not you should wear a wig because you felt extremely insecure but Mark was very outspoken about how exceptionally beautiful you were and never let you feel negative about yourself. He felt useless every time you cried over how skinny and frail your body was becoming on top of no longer having hair. As much as he reassured you that you’d always be so ethereal in his eyes, it was only natural for you to depreciate yourself.

Mark ordered dozens of sunflowers and they were currently filling up the entire church that the two of you grew up in. He didn’t care how much everything was going to cost; your happiness and any memory made with you was priceless. All of both your’s and Mark’s friends and families sat on either side; waiting for both you and your soon to be husband to enter. When Mark walked in alongside six of his best friends and his younger brother, looking at everyone who was there to celebrate the two of you becoming one made him smile like an idiot. He was dying to see you; throughout the entire time the two of you were getting ready, he kept texting you asking you for photos to which you politely kept shutting him down.

Mark knew he had to be patient and that seeing the bride before the wedding was bad luck, but he was just so excited. Jackson, BamBam and Yugyeom began teasing him every so often while they waited for your arrival. If it was during any other situation, he would’ve been annoyed with them for messing around with him but their jokes helped calm his nerves. Before he knew it, the music grew louder and everyone stood up. As soon as his eyes landed on you, tears built up at the corner of his eyes and he allowed them to fall. He didn’t care if he was crying in front of all your family and friends.

You looked so beautiful; so perfect. You were a sight for sore eyes. Mark didn’t think it was possible for you to look even more beautiful than you already were, but like you always did; you proved him wrong. Your dad was currently pushing you in a wheelchair down the aisle and you smiled softly at everyone who came in to view. Seeing Mark practically bawl his eyes out made you tear up; he was always so sensitive and it was something you admired about him. Your dad pulled Mark in to a hug before handing you over to him.

“Congratulations again, take care of my princess.”

“I will.” Mark released a sigh of awe, he couldn’t believe you were real and that he was actually getting married to the love of his life.

“Can you stand baby?” You nodded slowly and he intertwined your fingers before lifting you up.

“Lean on me if you need to okay? You look extremely beautiful by the way—so so so beautiful. I can’t stop looking at you.” You beamed up at him.

“And you look very handsome.” The two of you were so busy in your own little worlds that you didn’t notice all your guests looking at the two of you with so much adoration. The pastor began the ceremony and you couldn’t help to stifle a laugh watching your fiancé make faces at you during the entire speech. His grip was tight against your hands and you could feel him shaking, but it was cute and so was he.

“Shall we start the vows?” Mark nodded before pulling out a piece of folder paper. He gave you a knowing look when he heard a giggle fall from your lips; Mark was quite the procrastinator and he was never really one to be professional unless he had to. Seeing the crumpled piece of folder paper proved that he was extremely laid back and didn’t care to be proper.

“Over ten years ago, I fell in love with the most amazing, wonderful, kind-hearted, hard-working, generous and breathtakingly beautiful girl to exist. You and I started off as friends, but I knew early on that you’d be someone special to me. There aren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe the love I have for you. You make me the happiest person alive just by existing. No matter how hard life gets, the mere thought of you is what keeps me going. I thank God every single day for allowing me to be the lucky man who gets to love you. Your smile can light up an entire room and your laugh—don’t get me started on your laugh. It’s the cutest sound in the entire world and I could probably listen to you laugh for hours. These last few months have been rough for us, but you never fail to impress me with your strength, your faith and your selflessness. You’re my biggest role model y/n. Everything I do, I do it with you in mind. I want to make you proud, I want to give you the world you deserve and more. God y/n, you deserve everything. I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure that beautiful smile of yours stays on your face. You’re my forever baby, I love you with everything I have and I’m always going to love you.”

Once he was done, you playfully punched his chest causing everyone in the chapel to erupt in laughter. “You asshole, I knew I should’ve worn waterproof mascara. I know I won’t be able to top that—well here it goes. The term soulmates was always a foreign word to me. Out of the millions of people in the world, there is no way two people are destined to be together. But my opinion changed the moment we started dating. If soulmates exist, you are mine and I am yours. The word love isn’t even enough to describe the feelings I have for you. You’re the reason for my existence Mark. You make me so happy. Thank you, for everything. For all the sacrifices you’ve made for me, for all the meals you’ve cooked, all the times you stayed up and watched friends with me because you know how obsessed I am with the show, helping me with every shower, coming with me to every single appointment, for making me laugh and smile during such a hard time. I never felt alone once through this entire experience. You’re out of this world you know that? I could never thank you enough for all the love you’ve given me. You give me strength Mark; you’ve given me so much hope and never fail to remind me how beautiful you think I am and how much I mean to you every single day. Thank you for doing whatever you possibly could in these last few months to be able to make sure I got to do everything I’ve wanted to do while I still could. There was no time for me to even think about my condition, I was too focused on the overflowing love you’ve been giving me. And thank you, for showing me what love is. For giving me the best love I could have ever asked for in this lifetime. I can do anything with you by my side. You are my home Mark Tuan. I love you.”

You giggled as the tears continued to flow down his cheeks and brought your thumb up to his face to wipe them away.

“Do you y/n, take Mark Tuan—“

“I do.”

“And do you Mark Tuan—“

“I do.”

The priest laughed softly as you put your wedding bands on both of your fingers. “With the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Mark took no time lifting up your chin and smashing his lips against yours. Your heart fluttered with how passionate he was kissing you and when he smiled in to the kiss, you returned the ministration. The rest of the wedding went off without a hitch and it was honestly the best day of your entire life. Mark took the time to feed you against your complaints and your cheeks were in pain from how much you’ve been laughing throughout the entire night. Every time you looked at Mark, your heart rate would increase. No matter how many times he’s told you that he loves you, he never failed to show you through his actions just how much you meant to him.

Once the wedding was over, Mark brought you to a hotel and the two of you spent your first night as a married couple underneath the sheets with your bodies intertwined and lips practically fighting each other for dominance.

Unfortunately, only three weeks after your wedding; God decided it was time for you to return home. As much as nobody wanted to accept it, they all knew it was coming. You were rushed to the hospital after passing out while you and Mark were watching some random movie on Netflix. Although nobody had said anything, your husband knew it was time.

You were surrounded with all your friends and family. The room you were in and even the hallway outside were filled with heartbreaking sobs and mumbled screams; mainly from the love of your life. His grip was tight on your arm as he began to pray that you stayed just a little while more but he knew it was too much for him to ask for.

“M—Mark.” He looked up at you and quickly got up while bringing your face in to his hands.

“Yes baby?” You gave him a sad smile.

“Thank you—for everything. I can die happy knowing I lived such an amazing life—and I have you to thank. I love you more than anything Mark. I can’t wait to meet with you again. I’ll be waiting—“ when you took your last breath, your husband sank to his knees and let out the most gut wrenching cry. Jackson went over to pull him in to his chest, but Jinyoung prevented him from doing so. The older man needed his space. Everyone in the room were already crying, but seeing Mark so broken, so distressed was such a terrible sight to see. He knew it was coming, but he was never prepared to lose you. He found the strength to get up from off the ground and gently sat on the bed with you and pulled your lifeless body in to his embrace. “Come back to me—please. I can’t do this without you.”

The first few weeks after your death were some of the worst moments of Mark’s entire life. Coming to terms with your death and learning to live without you was something he knew he’d never get used to; he never wanted to. It all felt surreal to him. You were there just a few days ago, smiling, laughing, kissing him, holding him and whispering countless love confessions in his ear. He wanted to die. There was no way he’d be able to learn to live without you.

Mark found himself contemplating his life; he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep and he hated having to interact with people. Although he was extremely thankful for all the outpour of sympathy he’s been receiving, he was tired of hearing it. It was a constant reminder that you were no longer around. Jinyoung forced Mark to move in with him because he knew it would be torture for him to continue living in your shared apartment.

As much as he wanted to continue wallowing in his self pity, he knew your mother must’ve been taking it very hard. It felt like it was just yesterday that he called her to tell her about you being in the ER. Now you were in the clouds, hopefully smiling down on him and watching over him. Your friends were afraid of losing Mark completely; they were afraid of what he was capable of doing in order to be with you again. If he wasn’t to commit suicide, he would probably die of a broken heart, they were sure of it.

Waking up every morning without you there felt like a chore and he no longer wanted to do it. There was one day in particular that he was ready to just give it all up and end his life. He felt like there was nothing worth living for anymore. As he began thinking about what he would do, it was then that he heard a little voice in his head leading him back to your apartment. He knew it was you, it had to be. The voice gave him directions to go in your closet and to take out the blue box hiding in your vanity. It took every bone in his body to even return back to your apartment, let alone touch something of yours. He never moved anything since your death.

The cup that you last drank from sat on the coffee table and it was still full of the caramel macchiato you failed to finish. He didn’t have to courage to dump it out nor could he even look at your side of the bed without screaming. He felt as if he was living his worst nightmare and it was a reoccurring thing every morning he woke up. When he opened the box, he took a seat on the ground and found a letter addressed to him. Why didn’t you tell him about this letter earlier? Or why didn’t you give it to him before you passed? How was he supposed to find it without knowing about it or where it was? He ran his finger over your handwriting and bit his lip to prevent the choked sob that was building up at the back of his throat from coming out. As soon as he opened the card, he was a mess. He couldn’t even get past his name before the tears began to pour.

“To: the love of my life,

My Mark. My sweet Yi-En. If you’re reading this, then I’m no longer here. I hope you know, that I miss you so much. God, I was so afraid to die because I didn’t want to be without you. I know I told you God has a plan for me and I know he has a plan for you too. Please baby, find the strength to move on. Don’t worry about me okay? I’m fine. I’m no longer in pain anymore and just know I’m watching over you and counting down the days until we get to meet each other again. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Mark. I know it’s going to be hard, but promise me you’ll live your life to the fullest. You own my heart baby, always have and always will. Don’t forget to eat your meals and take your vitamins. We all know how sensitive your body is so you better take good care of yourself since I can no longer do so. If you die Mark Tuan, I will kill you. Please don’t beat yourself up about my death. None of this is your fault okay? It’s just a part of life. We will never understand why it was my time, but I meant what I said in my vows. You’re the reason I stayed around for so long. The doctor predicted that I only had six months left and I lived for almost an entire year. You’re the reason my love. You never failed to care for me and gave me your undying love and attention. You’re an angel Mark. My sweet angel. I give you permission to look for love when you’re ready. I’ll make sure to let you know whether or not I approve of her. Whatever will make you happy again Mark, don’t hesitate to do it. Unless it’s drugs, then I’ll really kill you. You’re forever in my mind, my heart, my thoughts and my prayers. Thank you for being my person. I’ll be waiting for you baby. I love you forever, Love, y/n.”

10 years later

“Daddy, where are we going?”

Mark looked at his beautiful three-year-old daughter in his rear view mirror and hummed contently. “We’re gonna go visit grandma and grandpa Faith.”

The little girl looked at him in confusion. “Didn’t we just see them yesterday?” He laughed at how smart she was and his heart began to warm at the sight of the all too familiar road.

It’s been a while since he’s been here and he can still see himself walking up to the door and hiding his hands in his pockets at the idea of taking you out on your first date. After reading your letter, Mark decided that he would learn to live for you. He moved away almost immediately and found himself traveling amongst the many different places the two of you visited together. He’d call your mom every so often to see how she was doing, but it was still too real to him no matter how many years have gone by.

He took Faith out of her car seat and carried her up to the door. When he rang the doorbell, he heard your mom call out that she was coming and he couldn’t help the smile that rose on his face when she finally opened the door.

“Mark, sweetheart look at you! You still look so handsome. It’s been so long. And who is this?” The little girl waved at your mom and smiled politely.

“I’m Faith. Nice to meet you grandma.” Your mom beamed at the little girl before pulling the two of them in to her embrace.

“Come inside, let me get you something to drink. What brings you here Mark? It’s been a while dear, how have you been?”

He took in your parent’s living room and his heart began to sink. Nothing changed. There were so many photos of you scattered amongst the shelves and on the walls; your wedding photo hung right above the fireplace.

“I um—we visited my parents yesterday and my mom brought you up. I wanted to come see you. It’s—her ten year anniversary in two weeks. I can’t believe it’s been so long.” Your mom handed him a cup of coffee and gave Faith a cup of orange juice.

“I know. I think about her and miss her all the time. Sometimes I daydream about what life would be like if she were still here. Your mom tells me you and Jinyoung started up a charity organization together. That’s amazing sweetheart. Y/n would’ve been so proud of you.”

He smiled softly at the sound of your name. Has it really been ten years since he’s last heard your contagious laugh and felt your soft lips against his? It’s been so long that sometimes he had a hard time believing you once existed and that you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

“Your daughter is so beautiful and such a smart girl. Your mother didn’t mention anything about you getting remarried, but I’m glad to hear that you are moving on—“ to your mom’s surprise, he shook his head in disagreement and motioned over to where Faith was watching television.

“I adopted her from an orphanage in Taiwan almost two years ago. Her parents gave her away right after she was born. I don’t know—but something told me to adopt her. She’s such a wonderful little girl and she helps fill the void. Y/n took a huge part of me with her when she left. I wanted to give up on it all so that I could be with her again—but she made me promise her that I would continue to live life and attempt to look for happiness again. That little girl is my happiness.”

Your mom wiped away a stray tear before reaching out to squeeze his hand. “That’s so kind of you Mark. You’ve always been such a generous and kind-hearted human being. Your parents raised you well. But it’s been ten years. Y/n would’ve wanted you to start looking for a companion—“

“Y/n was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Where do I go when I’ve already had the best? Y/n is always going to own this silly heart of mine. I actually renamed her Faith in memory of y/n. We talked about our future children’s names on multiple occasions and Faith was at the top of her list. I was also inspired in how much faith and trust she had in God during her journey. I’m going to be okay mom. Don’t worry about me. My main focus now is that adorable little toddler, my job and the organization. I had my chance at love and was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your mom and your husband talked for a few hours and most of that time was spent reminiscing on your memory and how life was so much better when you were still around. When Faith fell asleep on the couch, Mark decided it was time for the two of them to make their leave. He hugged your mom and promised to come visit her whenever he was in town. After he said his goodbyes, he brought the little girl in to the car and buckled her up slowly in attempts to not wake her. However, her soft voice caught his attention as he began to pull out of the driveway.

“Where we going now daddy?”

Mark knew there was one more place he wanted to visit before making the drive back to his parent’s house.

“We’re gonna go see mommy.”

I love you like XO You love me like XO You kill me boy XO You love me like XO All that I see Give me everything Baby love me lights out Baby love me lights out You can turn my lights outIn the darkest night hour (in the darkest night hour) I'll search through the crowd (I'll search through the crowd) Your face is all that I see I'll give you everything Baby love me lights out Baby love me lights out You can turn my lights out

[marawritingstuff]

ASHES

Gwen twisted her finger in her short black hair.  Normally, she loved the 500-mile drive from St. Louis to Detroit, the fields filled with horses and cows. Except on holidays, few cars cluttered the highway until she got close to the city.  She cherished her visits to her Aunt Ann with her oversized sweaters and non-stop cups of tea.    Aunt Ann wasn’t her destination today.

           Four hours on the road signaled the half-way point.   She pulled her rusty Camry into a rest stop.   Time to get, yuk, vending machine burning coffee to keep her awake for the rest of the ride.    Gwen even missed her boring job of entering columns of useless data, anything but visiting someone she was supposed to call “father.”   She downed the rest of her coffee and made her way back to the car.

           It had been more than twenty years since she had seen her father, and that was merely a glance across the room at her cousin’s graduation.    The situation was a dire one now.   The diagnosis of Stage IV lung cancer left only one outcome.   He squandered his life on two or maybe three packs of cigarettes a day.    Was it the guilt from what he did?   No, Gwen thought to herself, the man she knew felt no guilt.

           Dang.  She almost missed her exit.   Bringing her thoughts back to the present, she turned off the interstate and made her way to the medical center.   Due to all the problems with Aunt Ann, she was very familiar with Henry Ford Hospital, so it didn’t take her long to find the information desk and the bored volunteer behind it.

           “What room is James Harper in, please,” Gwen inquired.

           “OH! Are you family?”

           “Yes, I’m his daughter,” Gwen said, sighing to herself.

“He is in intensive care, room 201,” the flustered volunteer proclaimed.  “You will

need to stop at the desk at the ICU to gain access.  Do you need directions, I can . . .”?

           “No, I know my way,” Gwen said, already making her way down the hallway.

As instructed, Gwen checked in at the ICU and strolled to her father’s room.  She felt like covering her nose from the antiseptic smell of the hospital but thought twice.

           As she entered the room, she saw a thin figure laying on the bed hooked up to five or six machines. She supposed the purpose was to keep him alive.  She stifled a laugh when she caught sight of the thin frame in the bed, never remembering him under 300 lbs.  Though it disgusted her, Gwen sat in the chair next to her father.

           Within minutes, a nurse came bounding in.

           “Ms. Harper?”

           “Yes.”

           “A doctor will be in to speak with you in a few minutes,” she said, her body shaking at every word.   If the staff only knew how she really felt.

           “Thank you.”

           She continued to look at her father.   She wondered if he could hear her.  The relevancy was immaterial.   There were no more chances for confrontations.

           “O.k., asshole, the time has come. Forty-years later for you to pay.  No last rites for you. I may have only been five, but I know everything that happened that day.”

Gwen was transported back to her five-year-old self. On that snow bound day when

everything changed.  Six feet of oppressive snow trapped Gwen’s family in their tiny three

bedroom home.  The portrait of her family was the usual one; nine-year-old brother Luke watching tv, Dad eating a sandwich on the couch, mom outside working, and Gwen in the corner trying not to make noise.  Hours passed when Mom came in, tears streaming down her face.

           “What’s wrong with you,” Gwen’s father bellowed, his face scrunched up.

           “I can’t shovel anymore.  My back and my hands hurt so much.”

           “The driveway isn’t uncovered yet.”

           Gwen’s mom started to ball.   Gwen didn’t think she would ever stop.

           “Fine.   Give me that stupid shovel and I’ll do it myself.”

           Gwen’s father stomped out of the house.   Luke and Gwen ran to the window waiting for the emanate eruption.      As her father started shoveling, Gwen noticed a strange black figure coming down from the sky.  

           “Luke do you see,” pointing to the figure.

           “Stop making up stuff again, stupid head.”

           This was not the first time Gwen had seen things that others had not. Before she had time to consider the figure further, her mother let out an ear-piercing screech.  Their gaze turned to their father, now laying on the hard ice.  None of them wasted time getting to his side.

           The deep groaning.  Their mother’s scream. Her brother’s crying. These would be imprinted on Gwen’s memory forever.  But above all was the black figure descending upon them.   As it came closer Gwen recognized the shaped as a coal black angel, with wings spanning twice the size of the already seven-foot body.

           “I need to speak to your father, little one, “it said to Gwen, in a voice that shook the child.

           “I’m too scared.”

           “Shut up Gwen, we are all scared,” her mother screeched.

           “I’m talking to the black angel.  He wants to talk to Dad.”

           “Not your stupidness, now,” her mother said, tears running like a river.

           Gwen’s father’s eyes grew large.  It was then that Gwen knew he could see the angel, too.  

           “YOU’RE DEATH AREN’T YOU,” he cried.

           The black angel looked at Gwen and repeated:

           “He can’t hear me.  You have to talk for me.”

           “WHAT, I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” Gwen’s father squealed again.

           “I can hear him, Dad,” Gwen said, shaking, waiting for her father’s response.

           “Well, tell me fool.”

           “You are going to die now.”

           Gwen repeated the angel’s words and her father burst out in tears.

           “But you can sacrifice two for one.”

           Gwen tried her best to repeat again, though she didn’t understand the word “sacrifice.”     “I don’t understand,” her father said through the tears.

           “Choose two to take your place.”

           Gwen barely finished when her father began to shout out.

           “Take the girl and my wife.”

           Her mother, who had thought her husband was hallucinating, jumped in.

           “Take me where,” she began to ask.

           However, before she finished her thought, the angel swiped her mother into his large black wings and held her tight on one side.

           The angel reached for Gwen.

           “I never wanted that stupid child anyway,” her father said.

           “Do you truly want to make a sacrifice,” the angel said, and Gwen repeated.

           “YES.  YES,” My father shouted.

           The angel turned away from Gwen and swiped up her brother in its other wing.

           “What are you doing, take the girl,” her father shouted.

           “Only something you care about can be a sacrifice.”

           Gwen repeated to her father.

           Before he could say anything more, the angel closed his wings, and what once was Gwen’s mother and brother turned into ashes.  The black angel skyrocketed into the air, back where it came from.

           My father got unto his knees.  Perfectly fine but sobbing uncontrollably.  

           “My boy, it took my boy, and left me the little bitch.”

           The story simply became that Luke and her mother were lost in the storm.   For some reason, the police never really questioned the ludicrous explanation.   It became apparent that her father had no interest in taking care of Gwen and she spent the rest of her juvenile years living with aunt Ann.

             Now she was here, watching him die.  

           “Help me,” he whimpered.

           “Help you what,” Gwen asked.

           Gwen turned her head to the end of the bed already knowing what she would find. The black angel.

           “Hello, old friend,” Gwen whispered.

           This time she only got a nod.

           “Sorry, old man, there is no help for you this time.”

           Gwen slunk back into the chair and waited.  And waited.  Deep into the night, an unidentified doctor came in and told her some sob story about them doing “everything possible.”  

           Then it happened.   He began gagging.  All the machines seemed to go quiet.   The nurses came in, giving their apologies.   Then asking what she wanted to do with her “father.”

           “Burn it,” Gwen declared, winking her eye at the soaring Black Angel.

[alolanrain]

It’s sad hour my dudes

Missing dad!au where Ash’s dad died of cancer when Ash was five and Delia is a Bad MomTM in this AU. She makes sure that Ash doesn’t remember his dad at all because she secretly started to fall out of love with the man at the time.

Ash’s dad was Champion of Johto and top Elite Four for Kanto while Lance was the reverse, Champion of Kanto and Top Elite Four for Johto, making them fast and the bestest friends ever in their life. They also traveled during their first Journey a while ago. Ash’s Dad, Aaron, absolutely adored his son and always squirreled Him off to Johto when Delia allowed him to. It broke his heart because he knew he was dying but never told Ash because he didn’t want his son to miss him. Which Delia took that moment to say that Ash’s dad wasn’t coming back because he was traveling to become a very strong Champion and let that fester in her sons head until Ash started to hate and actively forget his dad.

Ash is also basically a mini copy of Aaron, the only difference is that Ash has gotten Delia’s height and brown eyes while Aaron has bright blue eyes. Delia also forced Lance and the other Elite Four our of Ash’s life at that point, flaming it as an act of grieving but she really didn’t want Ash to become a Champion even though Ash still wants to become a Pokémon master.

This doesn’t come to head until a giant event is being held on Father’s Day and the league shows off a small video of each Champions father or male guardian they grew up with. Ash was expecting Kukui because the man had practically became his father while in Alola but he was absolutely shocked when a male that looked just like him but taller with blue eyes came onto the screen. Little four year old him was situated in the man’s lap and was shying away from a Richu.

“It’s alright little one,” the man cooed, taking Ash’s little hand and holding it palm up so that the Richu could inch closer and put one of its own paws gently into his hand, “see, Riri won’t hurt you.”

“It’s so soft!” Ash gasped. Wiggling closer as to see if every other part of fur is the same. The Richu edged closer to, leaning down until it could nuzzle it’s snout into the top of Ash’s hair making the little kid gasp and giggle. “It’s soft papa! Riri’s soft!”

“I know munchkin.” The male, which just had to be Ash’s dad, chuckled.

“Ri!” The Richu cooed nosing Ash’s forehead and face gently while Ash continued to giggle.

The camera shakes and the sound of Lance’s voice floated through the stadium speakers, “now that’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Uncle Lance!” Ash squirmed a little in his dads lap to face the Kanto Champion while Riri was still cuddling up to him. “She’s so soft!”

“Oh is she?” Lance asked. Reaching over and jostling the camera even more to pet the side of Riri’s head. The Richu cooed and tried leaning into the man’s hand while still nuzzling Ash to death. “Well I be darn!” The man mocked gasped, obviously humoring Ash who ramped up his giggling, “she’s super soft.”

“The softest!” Ash declared before turning back to focus more on Riri.

“M’glad my two buckaroo’s get along so well.” Ash’s dad said more to himself.

“Ash gets along with almost every Pokémon, Aaron.” Lance jabbed a little with his fingers into the man’s side. Making him squirm and send a playful glare over to him. “Except Beedrills.”

“‘Cept Beedrills.” Aaron sighed. A slight pain look on his face appeared before melting away into one of the most softest looks Ash has ever seen.

The video ended there before another one started. This time who ever was holding the camera was a little bit away from A small lump on the ground.

“What are you doing Ash?” This time Aaron’s voice sounded behind the camera. And Ash, who was wearing the same clothes from the last video but was now exceptionally dirty, straightened up with a worried look.

“Papa I found a hurt Pokémon!” Ash called. Making his dad mutter a small curse before jogging the rest of the way.

The camera jerked with the movement until it caught the top of Ash’s head as both looked down on an extremely weak and malnourished Pichu who barely could glared at the two. Little harmless sparks glittered around his cheeks and that made Ash flinch away slightly into his dads leg.

Aaron places a comforting hand on top of Ash’s head as he turned and called for Lance to bring a kitchen towel. “It’s okay Ash,” his dad mumbled, “it’s to weak for it’s electricity to hurt you.”

“You sure?” Ash mumbled. Becoming shy and turning his head into his dads pant legs. Looking like the Pichu would jump up at any second and attack him.

“I’m absolutely positive.” Aaron soothed. Petting Ash’s hair as Riri ran from the house behind them and came skidding Over to her trainer and son. Cheeks sparking as some fur along her spine spiked up like something dangerous was going to happen. Only for her to flatten her fur as her eyes gazed at the weak little Pichu who tried hissing at her.

Ash watched as the two electric Pokémon’s cheeks light up, Pichu’s being much fainter then Riri’s. “What’re they doin’ Papa?” Ash asked in a stage whisper.

“Well Ash,” Aaron started, “Electric types like to communicate by their electricity. It’s like their own little language outside of using their voice and our human languages.”

“Wow.” Ash’s Bambi brown eyes sparked with curiosity.

“But don’t go touching their electricity when their speakin’,” his dad warned, “it’ll shock you something fierce.”

“Did you get shocked papa?” Ash asked. Not tearing his eyes away from the two mouse Pokémon.

“Oh multiple times, Uncle Lance still falls for it to sometimes.” Ash’s dad huffed.

Ash giggled at that and gasped in excitement as he turned back and saw Uncle Lance, along with a younger Agatha, jogging across the back yard over to the forest line where Ash and his dad were sitting.

The video ended when Aaron went to exchange the camera for the towel Lance handed him.

The third and last video started up right after. The camera was far away again, what looked like the person was standing or sitting on the back porch of the house.

It had a clear view of Aaron in a low hanging hammock with one of his feet planted on the ground. Gently swaying him with Ash napping on his chest. Riri and even the new found Pichu were curled with the two humans. Riri has taken up the side that Ash wasn’t curled up in and the Pichu was napping down lower on Aaron’s chest.

Aaron himself was gazing at Ash with another soft look. Watching his sons little chest go up and down. Matching with Riri’s and a little slower then the Pichu. The short video cut off with someone chuckling softly behind the camera and the lense pointing down onto the wood of the porch before the screen went black.

The crowd was silent for the most part and so were most of the Champions, they didn’t recognize the man and Ash was to preoccupied by staring at the black screen, mind working millions of miles a millisecond.

“Your dad loved you a lot Ash,” Lance was the first one to speak. “He was extremely sad to find out that he had a rare cancer in his lungs and the doctors couldn’t find a cure, so he spent as much time as his jobs allowed with you until he passed before your fifth birthday.”

“He...” Ash’s throat felt to restricted and dry, “he had cancer?” Everyone paused. Lance looked at him with a weird look.

“Didn’t Delia say anything to you?” Lance asked. Looking more concerned by the second as Ash struggles to answer.

“Mom never mentioned him besides the fact that he wouldn’t be able to come to my fifth birthday become he left us to go become a great trainer and possibly a Champion in the future.”

Murmurs spread around the stadium. The other Champions looked at each other in confusion and Lance was starting to grow tense.

“Don’t you remember your dad at all?” Lance asked. Taking a few steps forward towards Ash. Pikachu had jumped up to the platform the Champions were on from where the other main Pokémon were standing. Cooing at Ash and circling his trainers feet.

Ash took a moment. Digging deep into his memories, trying to Find an inkling of this man he saw on the screen. He started to panic as time slowly inches on. Hands spasming at his side and eyes flickering all over the place.

“Ash?” Lance asked. The other Champions were looking at him too. Worried at Ash’s expression. “Do you not remember your dad?”

Ash’s mouth started moving but no sounds, from what he could tell, where coming out. He took a step back as his mouth continued to flounder and brain short circuited. He didn’t even notice that he started crying his cheeks were covered in them. The next thing he knew was Lance charging station him and pushing Ash up the tiny flight of stairs with Pikachu hot on their tail and back into the hallway the Champions came out of when the announcer called him. The next thing was distantly hearing said announcer announcing a half an hour break.

Ash slumped against one side of the hallway half way down and Lance didn’t push him further. Allowing Ash to sink down into his ass and for his hands to clench the side of his head. Sobs racked his body as those videos played in his head over and over again.

How does he not remember his dad? Why didn’t Mom say anything? Why did she lie to him? Was she hiding something else from him? Why did He never see pictures of his dad aroudn the house? Didn’t Mom love him? How the fuck did he forget his dad?!

[justpeachythoughts0916]

Grieving & My Grieving Journey...So Far...

February 2nd, 2021: When I was growing up the only grief I truly felt was the loss of grandparents and pets. The only grief I experienced firsthand all made sense to me, people who followed the order of life you get older, you get sicker, and then die.  At that point and in those instances it wasn't hard for me to utilize logic and reason to understand their lives were lived and their time here had expired.

In high school I witnessed the school, my friends, and my classmates just in shambles after two boys died in two separate car accidents. These deaths caused me to feel an overwhelming amount of empathy and sympathy for my sad friends, but I wasn't close enough to these two to grieve really. I felt bad for everyone feeling so bad and knew a generic "I'm sorry" simply would not suffice.  I still knew there was nothing on this planet that I could say or do to heal that wound. I knew there was no making sense of these tragic deaths. Two happy, smiling, kind, young souls were gone. There is no making that okay.

Since high school this area is cursed with so many young deaths. We've lost people to suicides, accidents, overdoses, the list goes on. Still, I remained in the helpful, supportive friend role. I was not the one with my world upside down, and truthfully at the time I was grateful. Watching people so sad from grieving was heart breaking enough.

When I was 20 and pregnant with my first son we had a gender reveal party, we were ecstatic, my family never had boys. We had people stay the night in a tent in my mom's backyard because we in no way wanted anyone to drive home drunk. My friends at the time partied until morning, then all four went to sleep in a little four person tent.

I woke up at tenish, my mom made French toast for breakfast for everyone, then left for a matinee with her friend. One by one my hungover friends started coming in for breakfast. My son's soon to be God Father came in and said "Nate snored so loud, he shook my pillow" I replied, "He was cocked, and passed out" and giggled at the thought of their shenanigans. My step-dad and sister and his best friend were just watching the Sunday Giants game, casually cracking their first beer around noon. 

My friends were about ready to go, trying to figure out how to make the six people fit in a five person car. Nate wasn't up yet, not shocked, it was only 1:00 pm. He was sleeping on his tummy, using his arm as a pillow. I started to wake him up saying "Nate...Nate...Nate..." giggly and patient. I tickled his feet and he didn't move, he was just sleeping heavy. "Nate...Nate...Nate..." I pushed my fingertips into the soles of his feet and they stayed. I instantly said "He's dehydrated, and retaining fluid, get him water." Still not panicking...I stared at his back looking for breath movement before I thought "I'll just yank him by the ankles, that'd wake anyone up." So, I did just that...nothing. I went to look at him and saw purple skin through his red hairline and ran to get an adultier adult, my step-dad.

I ran into the house, where they were all watching a seemingly compelling play during the game, bursted in and yelled "Nate's blue, he won't wake up, I don't think he's breathing!" I've never seen my 6' 8" step-dad move so fast. He ran outside, ducked in and looked in the tent for about .1 seconds before he said "Steph, you need to call 911 now!" at 1:06 pm I picked up Nate's phone (it was the closest in reach) and tried to give a bunch of information to a dispatcher. I made little to no sense, because my step-dad didn't tell me why I was calling 911, combined with anxiety, I wasn't able to give them my mom's address. My younger sister tried to take the phone from me but the dispatcher asked "Can anyone there do CPR?" We all could, why didn't I think of that? I handed the phone off to my sister, and ran back to my step-dad and all my friends just shaking their heads and said "WE CAN DO CPR!" My step-dad as calmly and level as he could said "We can't save him, Steph, he's gone."

My. Soul. Left. My. Body.

My legs just stopped working.

Draped in my step-dads arms.

He's 6' 8" standing next to him I'm chest height.

I was down to his stomach.

Sobbing.

Drooling.

Quickly I ran away from his embrace screaming "NO. NO. NO. NO", into the road screaming up it "WHATS TAKING THEM SO LONG?!"

In that instant for the first time, it was me. I was the one with the dead best friend. Begging cops "Let me go with you to his Mom, her whole world is upside down here, and you're gonna tell her that with a straight face, just take me to tell her." Of course, I was informed protocol exists, and that couldn't happen. The second Nate's death hit social media I was the one flooded with "Oh my god, what happened?" "I'm so sorry" "My condolences" blah blah fucking blah.

My best friend's heart stopped to due to a lethal combination of Xanax and alcohol. Nothing about life or death made sense anymore. My best friend died from partying too hard? How do you make sense of that? When we all went to his services we stood in a circle together. Everyone stared, everyone, we were the last ones with him. We were trying to process what was about to happen at the viewing and we heard "That's them." The services were a nightmare. My friend Bryan and I were first to walk in, and the second we saw his bright red hair in that white casket we both couldn't stand. We stopped the line, and I sobbed and said "We can't do this." We went in the room with his twin sister and mom, we offered his sister his aviator sunglasses that were left in the tent, and we offered his mom to go to her favorite local ice cream parlor on Mothers Day every year, a tradition Nate followed with her. I asked Nate's mom permission to name my son Nathan when we went to see her the day after he died, so I tucked an ultrasound of his namesake in his pocket, and a pack of cigarettes with his lucky flipped. We stayed through the whole viewing, saw all those sad broken faces, got all the sad and sorry hugs, at the end we all walked up together I kissed his forehead, and we left.

I spent the first threeish years of my new life without Nate crying occasionally or at appropriate times, like when I gave birth to my Nathan. The rest of the time I kinda carried on like mentally him and I were taking a break from eachother, like I myself was choosing not to message or call. I got into therapy after hearing countless "You need helps" from family and friends. In therapy, I was cautioned that this event gave me Complex PTSD and Complex Grieving. Still, I just kept going with the flashbacks, nightmares, and the stages of grief over and over. Three years in, I had a startling realization using a butt fuck of psychedelics of "Oh my God, my person is gone, I can't get him back, we can't talk, and that really happened." Instantly, I was grieving his death like new again. Oh no. I had less than understanding from most people. Most people honestly seemed perplexed how it could feel so fresh after "so many years" *eyeroll to my spine*. Solely because me being pained and honest with it is/was uncomfortable. OOOF.

I knew Nate taught me so much in his life and in his death. He also was the first to teach me how to help people in early grief, because of how many conversations I had that were text book This Is Not What You Say To Someone Grieving. Then again, we're all different.

Just before the 4 year mark with Nate's death, death found me again and again, it followed the people I loved. My honest theory is I saw death up close and personal, I know what that type of empty feels like, I was the one sobbing pounding the ground, mad at the world, so I noticed the devastation easier. I became the support system for my grieving friends, all by just being honest from the get, "Welcome to the club you don't want to be in, you still have to try to eat, you're never gonna be the same and there is nothing you can say to me that sounds crazy coming from the girl who has screamed in the cemetery at 2:00 AM "OVER A FUCKING XANAX?!" and unfortunately this club doesn't come with t-shirts it comes with trauma." It's simple to me, really. Act like they have a cancer on their brain with out being so in-your-face-it-feels-fake. Easy. I've helped countless freshly grieving people in the years after Nate's death.

  In October of 2020 I was talking to Zack, my middle school best friend on the phone, I needed help. He couldn't help me, as he was in legal trouble and needed to lay low. We caught up for a while, aside from what I needed help with. At one point he said "I wish Squid was here, he would've been down in a heartbeat." Squid passed in February of 2020. We talked at length about being more careful with ourselves, the worries we had about our other friends, and what grieving is like. Then he said, "I don't know how much closer death can get to me than Squid, he was my boy, it broke me." I just said  "I miss that boy so much, he was so warm." Zack went on to say "I don't wanna know which one of us is gonna go first, I don't wanna be the one left." We gave eachother all of our love, and hung up.

  On November 19th, 2020 Zack and another friend of ours from middle school, Alex, were headed home from Alex's band practice late at night. Alex was driving when he lost control of the vehicle. They both died on impact, together. It killed me. They died just riding home? The messages flooded in again. "I'm so sorry" "If you need anything, I'm here" as disingenuous as you could be really be. Again, I'm the one with the dead friends. Feeling emptiness in my finger tips. I hated everything, again.

  "If everything happens for a reason, than what the fuck?"

"Why them? Why me?"

Despair

When I laid in my boyfriend's bed staring at where the white ceiling met the lavender walls with silent tears streaming down my face I felt empty in my bones. I went outside, lit a cigarette, and called my soul brother, Alec. Al is traditionally a goof ball, but in sad times he has a way with comforting people. He's an absolute doll. I knew I needed to hear his voice and his words. When we spoke I cried and said all the awful initial thoughts, "How am I the one left? I didn't wanna do that. What do I do?" After I got those thoughts out we had a talk that would forever change my views on loss and grief. He said "All of these losses teach us something. Losing Squid taught me that I needed, wanted, and could have a healthy supportive friendship with Alison (his ex-wife, my best friend)." Alison drove up from Georgia to support me, Alec, all of our people, and grieve herself with her people. The hug they shared outside of the funeral home looked cathartic on a soulful level to me. They were who eachother needed to have in that sad and vulnerable time, even after their separation. To that I said, "I still don't get the fucking point."

That's when Alec said something I'll never forget. First, he quoted Carl Sagan in Cosmos, "We're all just a blue dot." Made zero sense, as I had yet to read all of Cosmos, and Alec already had (more than once). He then said, "People's love for you is eternal, regardless of when their physical being dies. Every lesson they taught someone will permanently imprint them, transferring person to person, generation to generation. Zack's love, Squid's Love, Alex's love, Nate's love, everyone's love is eternal as long as your soul learned things from them." I started crying hard. We gradually caught up and got ready to hang up and he said "Stephanie, you will have my love eternally, in this life and in the next, even if my physical being dies you will always have love from an Al"

  I had to process those words for weeks, thinking of every act of love, every admirable thing, every moment I witnessed that all my seemingly lost humans gave me, and what changed in me because of those moments. All of these souls filled up books in my mind, heart, and soul. They taught me how to be a happier better me, and they all loved me so much. These acts of love transferred onto my family, my friends, my kids, my relationship, hell, even strangers. Alec was right, my humans didn't die at all, and the more I looked the more I found glimpses of their love here, with me, no matter where they are. They literally cannot die, and there's no choice in the matter, it just happens.

I still have sad days and moments, but I know the saddest moments for me are also the most loving acts they gave me coming to surface...They are still with me to make those moments possible. You cannot change grief. It is a wild bull you just got onto, and you have to hold on tight and dig your spurs in for the rest of your life. The only thing that has calmed the immense pain I've felt was allowing these amazing humans to permanently imprint their best moments onto me. I'm forever grateful I had the privilege to be imprinted by so many angelic souls. All these seemingly small, miniscule moments created the most love in my soul. I'm here to learn, and I've been taught by the best of the best. Their deaths were not in vein, their deaths have all changed me. I sincerely hope this makes you consider how many souls have imprinted on you in life and in death, allowing seemingly impossible eternal love into your heart and soul.

XOXO

"I'm sure there ain't a Heaven, but that don't mean I don't like to picture you there. I bet you're bumming cigarettes off saints, and I'm sure you're still singing, but I'll bet that you're still just a bit out of key." Cigarettes and Saints by The Wonder Years

Dedicated to:

Nathan E. Osgood Sami Jo Colson Zaccaria "Squid" Crankshaw Ally LaMont Ryan Burton Zack Luck & Alexander Simon

I'll miss you everyday for the rest of my life, and will carry your eternal love wherever I may go.

Finally, thank you, to the first responders of Mayfield, NY that were first on scene when Nate passed away on September 20th, 2015

[louuieferrignojr]

in your eyes

chapter 2/2 (ao3 link) (chapter 1)

When Owen saw Judd’s name come across his phone, he went on high alert. He knew TK had left early for the fire station for his shift, but Judd rarely called him out of the blue like this. He slid his phone open and put the phone to his ear before speaking.

“Judd?” He heard someone let out a breath on the other side of the line and he tensed with worry.

“Owen,” Judd’s voice came through the phone and he sounded out of breath, “It’s TK.”

“Tell me my son is okay Judd,” Owen asked, grabbing the last of his things before leaving the house and going towards his car.

“He took pills Cap,” he replied, watching as Michelle continually gave the younger man oxygen. “I don’t know where he got them from. He took them in the locker room after I walked out. We’re in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Michelle got him back, but he’s not out of the woods yet.”

Judd looked at TK and felt a fire in his chest. Why did this kid have to warm his way into his heart? TK was cocky and bullheaded, but he also wore his heart on his sleeve and seeing him struggle with his addiction was painful for the entire house.

“Judd, are you there?” Owen’s voice came from his cell and he was immediately taken out of his thoughts and back to his conversation.

“Sorry, yeah I’m still here. We are almost at the hospital. I’ll meet you in the waiting area,” he replied, looking between Michelle and TK, “He’s gonna be okay Cap.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, before he spoke again.

“He has to be.”

--

One Month Later

“So TK,” Dr. Anne Wells started the discussion, looking at her patient. “How are you feeling today?”

“Fine,” the young firefighter responded, looking anywhere but at the psychiatrist. She took notice that he was holding a pillow to his chest, as if he needed protection and she sighed.

“You’ve been doing so much better since your first day here,” she reminded him, taking his mind back to when his dad and Judd helped him settle in at the inpatient center. He knew he needed to get better. His suicide attempt was a wake up call.

He wanted to go back to his dad. The firehouse. He wanted to feel the adrenaline of running into a building to save someone, but just the thought of that made him feel like an elephant was sitting on his chest. He was brought back to the first day he came here, feeling like he was going to fall apart and never get better.

“Just breathe, TK. You’re going to get the help you need to kick this addiction in the ass and then you’ll be back with me,” his father said, pulling him into his arms. TK gripped his dad, not wanting to let go. His dad had always protected him. From when he almost broke his arm after falling out of a tree when he was 5 and catching him, from when his mother didn’t accept him and his father accepted him with open arms, and from when he first got addicted to drugs and his dad got him the help he needed before suggesting he apply at the fire academy after he got himself better. And now, when old wounds were opened from his mom’s texts and he thought his only option was out, his dad was there.

But he also now had a whole team behind him.

“You’ll be back with us kid,” Judd had stated gruffly, before pulling TK into his arms.

“Are we hugging right now?”

“You tell anyone…”

“Who can I tell?” TK reminded him, gesturing to his new home for the next 3 months.

“You get the help you need okay? I need your annoying ass back at the firehouse,” Judd’s words may have been humorous, but his tone was full of brotherly concern.

TK could only nod at both of them, before watching as they both left his room.

He could do this.

“TK?” A female voice brought him out of his thoughts and he looked to see Dr. Wells staring at him with concern.

“Sorry, you just reminded me of why I wanted to get better,” he let himself smile, before looking back at her to finish their session.

--

Four Months Later

After three months of inpatient treatment and a month of outpatient treatment, TK was back at the firehouse.

On light duty of course.

Months ago, he would have been annoyed at the limited work he would be doing, but now he was just grateful he was here. Alive.

His father had informed him shortly after he was in treatment that he contacted his mother. After one heated conversation with the woman, Owen informed him that his mother would never speak to either of them again. He had bought TK a new phone as well, one that his mother wouldn’t be able to find the number of. Whatever his dad said to his mom, he was grateful. She was in the past. She couldn’t hurt him.

He had his dad, he had his firehouse and he had Carlos.

Or at least, he hoped so.

Carlos had visited him once in the treatment center, just to see how he was doing with his own eyes. He told TK that he didn’t want to be one of the reasons he didn’t get better. He didn’t want to hold him back.

“I just wanted to feel something.”

The words echoed back at him from his memory, explaining to Carlos how he took to fighting in a bar so he could feel pain. Back then, it was a relief to feel the punches come at him.

Now, he didn’t want to even step foot inside another bar. Carlos told him that he didn't want TK to just use sex as another outlet for the pain he was feeling. He wouldn't deter TK from getting better, no matter how he was feeling about the younger man.

He had texted Carlos when he came in for his shift and was waiting for his response, impatiently of course. Judd chuckled at him when he noticed he looked at his phone a dozen times in a span of 10 minutes.

“TK, maybe he has work,” he suggested lightly, smirking as TK glared at him and sighed.

He got up from his chair and went to his dad’s office, searching for the gum he knew his dad always hid in his top drawer before pulling out a small bottle with pills in it instead.

His hands shook as he took in the pill bottle. He wasn’t even tempted to take the pills at this point. He just wanted to know why his dad had them in the first place. Suddenly he heard footsteps come closer to the office, but he was frozen in place.

“Hey, TK there you -” Owen stopped greeting his son, as he saw the picture before him.

His son with his pill bottle.

Before Owen could fear the worst, TK looked at him with tears in his eyes, “Why do you have these pills dad?”

The room was quiet and it was like all the air got sucked out of it as father and son stared at each other.

“They’re for my nausea,” he started to explain. His son just looked at him in confusion.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” His tone worried as he dropped the bottle on his desk and walked towards the older man.

“It’s for the nausea I get after chemo.”

TK looked stricken, his eyes going wide. “Wait, what? You have cancer?”

“It’s lung cancer, TK. It’s in the early stages. They caught it early.”

TK could only scoff, “It’s cancer dad.”

“I know,” Owen could only respond, staring at his son.

“You must think I’m so weak,” TK whispered, looking down at the floor. The pattern on the floor would be a nice distraction right now from this news.

“No. You are not weak Tyler Kennedy. You are one of the strongest people I know,” he stated firmly, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I didn’t tell you because I was the weak one. I’m your dad. I’m supposed to always be there for you. I didn’t want to see the grief in your eyes the day I would finally get the courage to tell you.”

TK wiped at his eyes, before letting out a breath, “Dad, you’re still my hero,” he let himself smile before continuing, “You’re going to kick the crap out of this cancer, especially from now on because I’ve got your back.”

“I’ve got your back Dad,” he repeated, before wrapping his arms around the older man.

“Thanks son,” Owen responded, letting himself for once be comforted by TK.

As they broke out of the hug, Owen looked at his son and smirked.

“So, I heard your waiting to hear back from Carlos.”

TK looked affronted at the statement, before glaring at his dad.

“Michelle may have told me that he gets off this afternoon,” Owen stated, smiling as his son perked up at the fact, before frowning.

“Wait, why would she tell you that?” He questioned, before Owen let out a chuckle.

“She was going to meet him for lunch after his shift ended, but she wouldn’t mind if you took her place instead. I’m sure Carlos wouldn’t mind either.”

With that, Owen walked away to the locker room whistling.

“Wait, dad...where was she meeting him?” He asked, but his father was already too far away and he grumbled to himself.

“Guess I’ll just have to ask Michelle. This won’t be embarrassing or anything,” he mumbled.

--

“TK?” Carlos asked, surprised to see the younger man and not Michelle at their usual lunch table near the food trucks.

“Hi,” the young firefighter replied, standing up. Before he could react, Carlos grabbed him into a bone crushing hug.

“How are you? Are you okay?” The taller man asked him, before they pulled out of the hug.

“I’m better,” a small smile spread across his face as Carlos could only stare at him awe.

From how he was months ago to now, Carlos definitely saw a change in TK. There was a certain glow about him. He seemed happier and he was grateful that TK got the help he needed.

Before he could say a word, the firefighter looked up at him.

“So how about that date?”

“You sure?” He asked, biting his lip wanting to make sure that TK himself was ready.

“Yes, I’m sure” TK grinned, “you’re buying.”

[ellisonhaney]

Rose, 26, GMT, she/her, vomit ⇢ i swear i just saw MARGOT ROBBIE out on the streets but it turned out to be ELLISON HANEY. SHE was born on APRIL 19TH making them only 31 years old. They’re known to be +RESOURCEFUL, +CREATIVE and -PROUD -WOUDED. They spend most of their time being a RECEPTIONIST. Rumour has it they’re HETEROSEXUAL, and can be found in VAN NUYS. You know you’ve found them when you come across PILES OF BABY LAUNDRY, SLEEPY MORNING VOICE, AND THE SMELL OF HONEY.

(miscarriage tw, cancer tw, death tw, divorce tw, infertility tw)

BIO

Ellison was born in Highland Park, Texas, hailed as the seventh most expensive superb in the USA with an average annual household income of $358,994 it was no surprise that the girl had a very cushy lifestyle. Both her parents were said to be ‘old money’ with basically a never-ending income that they were more than happy to spend on holidays and the best of the best. When the girl was seven she was vaguely aware of her mother and father setting up a charitable organisation to help spread the wealth of the 1% to those who weren’t as blessed and as she started to understand what that meant the pride in her family just grew. Sure they had a lot of money, but they helped others as well, so there was no need to be embaressed about indulging.

The typical southern family her mother was a society lady, her father spent a lot of time at country clubs, their house was filled with their rare art collection and played host to elaborate parties. Every single one Ellison would get a new dress, prancing around in fairy wings before graduating to tight designer cocktail dresses inside, she loved everything about it. She was raised with a strong sense of family so when she met the man she ended up marrying it was always with the intention of becoming a housewife and raising his children in some pile of a home. Probably still in Texas because after all that was her home, her community, and she loved it.

Always with a creative streak the girl loved to design small dresses for toddlers, imagining she might one day get to put her own daughters in them, launching her own designing line called Toddler Delights. Never needing it to make money but just because she wanted to share what she loved. Nothing Ellie ever did was because she needed money. Meeting the love of her life at the age of twenty four the two of them were married in a lavish southern wedding two years later with the intention of starting a family. Sadly the girl’s father passed away not long after she returned from her (month long) honeymoon, but still with the support of her mother the newlyweds started trying for a baby. To say it didn’t go to plan would be an understatement. Not only was she seemingly unable to conceive naturally for a long time, when Ellison finally did fall pregnant she wasn’t able to maintain the pregnancy.

By twenty nine she’d suffered three miscarriages, two rounds of IVF that had failed altogether, and the couple’s relationship was hanging on by the skin of it’s teeth. To add insult to injury in May of 2018 Ellison’s mother was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer. Everything was falling apart around the family that had not long ago seemingly had everything, but the determined blonde wouldn’t be deterred and in August of that year the couple officially filed to be considered for adoption. Thanks no doubt to her parents charity work as well as her own family wealth it didn’t take long for them to be approved, whoever said the adoption process could be arduous was being dramatic if you asked Ellison at the time, but by the time they were informed they would become parents to a baby boy in June of 2019 the damage to their relationship was too far gone. Holding things together long enough to push through the adoption her husband Grant promptly left Ellison two months after Walker was born, leaving her devastated.

On September 13th 2019 her mother passed away from terminal cancer, leaving her with no living family apart from the baby who was now her entire responsibility. Medical bills for her mother had been extensive, and it was when Ellison started to formulate a plan to pay them from her parents funds that she realised the devastating truth. Not only had the family never had the money she’d thought they’d really had, for the last twenty two years Mr and Mrs Calhoun had been funding their 1% lifestyle from the money they had been apparently giving to charity from a plethora of fundraisers and drives.

Once the news got out their daughter was shunned from the society she’d grown up in, the people she’d grown up calling friends turning their backs on her with limited exception, and with nothing now keeping her in Texas the two person family left for Los Angeles. Most people don’t believe her when they find out about how she grew up living, especially since the young mother is now a receptionist living hand to mouth in Van Nuys, Los Angeles in a one bedroom apartment with more issues than assets. The money she makes from her part time job and limited sales from Toddler Delights which was once a hobby and was now a lifeline, everyday was a struggle. Not to mention she was still paying off her mother’s medical expenses. Still, Ellison kept her married name for both her and Walker’s sake. He deserved his fathers name and she deserved the anonymity it would occasionally buy her from her family scandal, though it was always a matter of time before people found out.

Other:

Ellison had suffered the worst humiliation she could imagine in every way possible, and so her pride was all she had left in her own eyes. The woman refuses handouts even from those who are her best and oldest friends. She sees it as pity, and hates that more than anything.

Despite everything her love for her parents runs as deep as it ever did. Maybe people don’t understand but she knows they weren’t bad people, whatever they did was likely done to protect her, rather than hurt others. It might not be true, but it helps her fall asleep at night.

Ellie hates her job but knows she has to do something to support her family. It’s not mentally stimulating at all, so she just goes through the motions, and would much rather talk about her designing than she would ever her reception work.

Walker was born on June 22nd 2019, so he is about to turn one, and she will protect him with everything she has even if things didn’t pan out exactly how she’d wanted them to. Because she has no family now apart from him, and he has no family apart from her.

Sometimes she can be angry because of leftover emotion about what she’s been through in the last two years. A lot of it hasn’t been dealt with properly because she’s too intent on survival. Ellie just doesn’t have the time to stop and take stock, she is just trying to keep her head above water.

Ever since she was a little girl she’s used the same honey body wash that her mom introduced her to, and that will never change. A year ago the company that makes it announced they would be discontinuing it, so she bought a hundred bottles. This was before she no longer had access to her ex husbands credit card, but she made sure she kept those bottles in the divorce.

She seems to have the look of someone without enough hours in the day 90% of the time, her apartment is full of piles of unwashed baby onesies, and last nights dirty plates are in the sink. It’s not because she doesn’t want to get these things done, it’s because she physically cannot do everything required of her, the woman never stops. For mental healths sake she has to step away to see friends or let loose sometimes, but this costs getting in a babysitter or convincing someone she already knows to watch Walker, and these are favours she doesn’t want to end up running out of.

Sometimes that side of her that was a southern pageant girl, a debutant, a kept woman, rears it’s ugly head. But mostly she tries to blend in as best she can because then people ask less questions.

[cerezsis]

Isn’t That Lovely?

Human AU

Summary: Spinel thinks she and Piper Damon are best friends. Piper hangs out with her because she has to. The two are separated when Piper’s dream of owning her own branch of the family business comes true, but Spinel is sure their friendship can survive the distance. Unfortunately, their friendship isn’t the only thing she’ll watch go up in flames.

WARNING: This story depicts severe mental illness, and the death of loved ones. Tread cautiously if you are bothered by either of those subjects.

--

           “Say hello to your new friend, Piper,” the white-haired woman said, her hands planted firmly on her daughter’s shoulders.

           The ten-year-old looked her new “friend” up and down. Spinel, the three-year-old girl who was already bouncing in excitement, wore tight pigtails, pink shorts, and a white shirt with a juice stain on the collar. Piper gave her best friendly smile. She supposed she should be happy that she wouldn’t have to spend the day alone in the estate or stuck coloring in the corner of an office, but it didn’t stop the dread brewing in her stomach.

           “Hello,” Piper greeted.

           The toddler ran up and gave her a tight hug. Piper hugged back, trying hard not to think about how sticky the younger girl’s hands felt against the back of her shirt.

           “I’m so excited to play with you!” Spinel said, eagerly.

           “Well, I certainly won’t keep you two waiting,” Winona said, lifting her hands from Piper’s shoulders, “I’ll pick you up around dinner time, Starlight.”

           Piper managed a grin at her mother. “Ok, mom.”

           Piper followed Spinel and Mrs. Desjardins out of the office building. She buckled herself in next to Spinel’s car seat, and stared out the window as the younger girl sang along to the children’s music CD that automatically started playing when Mrs. Desjardins started the car. As her head rested against the warm glass, she wondered why her mother couldn’t have had any employees with kids her own age.

The drive to the Desjardins residence wasn’t long, and Piper had to admit the house was beautiful. The paneling was painted a lovely cream color, and beautiful vines of pink flowers surrounded the black shutters. The bushes underneath the windows also sported flowers, and looked to be freshly trimmed. It was clear that the family took pride in their home’s appearance.

           “Come on!” Spinel said, happily grabbing onto Piper’s hand, “I’ll show you my playhouse!”

           Piper could hear Spinel’s mother chuckle as the little girl led her to the backyard. Passed the ivy-draped wooden fence, the backyard was full of even more flowers than the front. In the center of the many flowerbeds sat a brightly painted wooden swing set with an attached playhouse. Still holding onto her new friend’s hand, Spinel brought Piper into the playhouse, the older girl having to crouch down to fit through the toddler-sized doorway.

           “Ta-da!” Spinel said, finally releasing her sticky hand from Piper’s to raise her arms in presentation, “Welcome to my playhouse!”

           Still unable to stand up straight, Piper managed a smile. There was barely even enough room for the two of them to be in there together. “So, what do you wanna do?”

           Spinel tapped her finger on her chin, thinking through her options carefully. Her eyes widened with joy when the perfect game came to mind.

           “Oh! Oh! Let’s play tag!” She tapped the older girl on the shoulder. “You’re it!”

           Despite the cramped space, she managed to run out the door with ease, giggling in anticipation of the chase. Quietly wondering how long it was until dinner time, Piper put on her best game face and chased after Spinel.

           The girls played in the yard until Mrs. Desjardins called them in for lunch. As she ate her tater tots, Piper hoped Spinel was tired enough to want to watch TV or play with dolls, but once their plates were cleared, she insisted on a game of hide and seek in the backyard. Putting on another smile, Piper agreed to Spinel’s games.

Mr. Desjardins came home from the office shortly after Mrs. Desjardins got started on dinner. He came with the message that Piper’s mother would be late picking her up, and that she was to have dinner with them. Piper wondered to herself why she expected anything different from her mother. The Desjardins were happy to set her a place at the dinner table, and she thanked them when they handed her a plate of spaghetti. While the grownups chatted, Piper quietly winced as Spinel made a mess of her spaghetti dinner, getting sauce all over her face and shirt. Twirling spaghetti around her fork, Piper wondered if her sisters were having takeout again.

           By the time her mother came to collect her, it was almost nine o’clock. Winona gave the Desjardins an obligatory apology for being so late – something about backorders and a wrong color – but they assured her that it was fine, and Piper was a pleasure. As the adults took their time with their departure, Piper had her eyes locked on the door. Spinel, now dressed in her Micky Mouse pajamas, held tightly onto her hand, telling her that if she hid in her room, her mother wouldn’t be able to find her, and she wouldn’t have to go home. When Winona finally decided it was time to leave, Spinel threw herself onto the ground.

           “I don’t want her to go!” she cried.

After a few minutes of Spinel crying for Piper to stay, the situation had to be resolved by Mr. Desjardins carrying Spinel up to her room. A final goodbye to Mrs. Desjardins, and Winona and Piper were finally in the car, driving back to the estate.

           “Mrs. Desjardins told me about all the fun you had with Spinel today,” Winona said, her eyes on the road.

           “Yeah…” Piper said, leaning tiredly against the car door, “She’s… nice.”

           “Good, good,” Winona grinned, clearly not taking notice of her daughter’s apathetic tone, “I’ve arranged for you to play with her every weekday for the rest of the summer. Your sisters and I will take turns dropping you off and picking you up.”

           Piper stopped listening, and sank back into her seat. She stared out the window, watching the streetlights zoom by. All she could think about was Spinel’s sticky hands.

--

           It had been five years since Spinel and Piper’s first playdate. Autumn leaves danced in the window as Piper sat on the edge of the child-sized bed, venting about her latest fight with her mom and sisters. Spinel laid on her stomach, her head resting in her hands, and her legs kicking back and forth. The eight-year-old listened attentively to her cool, older friend, occasionally giving a nod in sympathy. Being so much younger, she couldn’t always relate to her problems, but she was still always there to listen. That’s what friends were for, after all.

           This week’s fight was once again about Piper’s role in the family’s business. Piper was on her usual rant about how Yvonne and Beatrix had their own branches when they were her age, and how it wasn’t fair that all she had was a few jewelry lines.

           “They treat me like a kid,” Piper complained, “How would they even know how responsible I am? I could handle running a business just fine. They never have any faith in me.”

           Spinel nodded. “You’d be the best boss ever! I bet when you finally get your branch, it’ll be the best branch they’ve ever seen!”

           Piper gave a half-smile. At least someone believed in her.

           A light ding came from the other side of the room. Spinel perked up.

           “Oh, the brownies are ready!” She got up and hurried to her Easy Bake Oven. “Here Piper, you can have the first one. Brownies make everything better.”

           “Thanks Spinel,” Piper said, still giving her a reserved smile, “I love brownies.”

--

           Spinel would never forget the look of excitement on Piper’s face when she gave her the news. At nineteen years old, she was finally getting her own branch of Damon’s Diamonds. Spinel couldn’t have been happier for her friend.

           Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could’ve been happier if she could follow her to Maine, where her first warehouse and manufacturing plant would be located, but, as her parents reminded her, seventh grade came first.

           She wrote to Piper every day. Piper wrote back once every few months. It was ok. Running a business was a lot of work, especially when you have a group of anti-corporate protesters thwarting the process. Spinel would wait as long as it would take. She knew her best friend wouldn’t forget her.

--

           The summer before tenth grade, Spinel woke up to find both her parents in the kitchen. She knew something was wrong before she even saw their pink, puffy eyes. Daddy was never home this late in the morning.

           They broke the news to her as gently as possible. A fire had started in the on-site warehouse at Piper’s factory. It spread quickly to the main building, too quickly for Piper to escape her office. The fire took her life.  

           Spinel shook her head. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. Piper couldn’t be dead; she just couldn’t be!

           She spent most of the day sitting on the couch, staring into space. News came in in bits and pieces. Dry foliage. Smoke bombs. Lacks fire regulations. Chemicals not stored properly. All came together to form a perfect storm of chaos.

           At least a dozen people died in the blaze. Many more were injured. The number of casualties were still rising. Rose Quintin, the leader of the anti-corporate protesters, was thought to be responsible, but there wasn’t enough evidence for an arrest. Her current whereabouts were unknown.

           It was hours before Spinel finally cried. Her best friend was gone, her life cut short in one of the worst ways possible. Piper was dead.

           Piper was dead…

--

           Nearly Halloween that same year, daddy’s test results came back. Stage four lung cancer. Daddy didn’t make it to Christmas.

--

           A week after New Year’s, Spinel was called down to the principal’s office. A police officer was waiting for her. A car hit mommy as she was crossing the street. The car sped away. Mommy died in the ambulance.

--

           Eleventh grade didn’t last long. Spinel got expelled for repeated aggressive behavior. Once kicked out of school, she no longer had a reason to leave the house. The mortgage had been paid off long ago. Inheritance and life insurance payouts were enough for her to survive indefinitely. Groceries were delivered to the house every Tuesday. The farthest she ever ventured was to the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

           No one ever checked on her.

--

           She hadn’t remembered her twenty-seventh birthday until nearly a week had passed. Time always seemed to escape her like that.

           Today was what she considered a good day; the only thing she felt was hallow. It was a step up from anger or sadness, and way better than the crash that followed mania. Hallow was safe. Hallow was good.  

           Sitting on the old, rickety swing set, Spinel looked around the yard. The once beautiful landscape was now overrun weeds and overgrowth. Almost all the flowers were brown and shriveled. The ivy that mommy planted had completely taken over the fence and was creeping onto the graying exterior walls of the house.

           Without even thinking, Spinel stood up and wandered back into the house. A fine layer of dust coated every surface, as if no one had lived there for years. Glancing at the overflowing sink of dirty dishes, she struggled to remember if she’d eaten today. She didn’t have much of an appetite. She’d have to force something down the next time she remembered.

           Continuing through her untouched time capsule of a house, she let herself wander up the stairs. Her bedroom door had broken off during one of her fits a few years ago, now permanently propped up against the adjacent wall. The upstairs bathroom hadn’t been usable in five years. She found herself entering the master bedroom, formerly her parents’ room, and let herself fall onto the unmade bed. She wrapped herself in the old sheets and tried to fall asleep.

           It was three in the afternoon.

--

           Forty-three. She was forty-three years old. Had it not been for the date and time in the corner of the morning news program, she wouldn’t know what day it was. She didn’t usually watch this channel, but it had been airing a marathon of old cartoons two days ago. For some reason, the old back and white cartoons made her feel a sort of calm. She couldn’t be bothered to change the channel after it ended.

           She wasn’t really paying attention to the TV anymore, just lying on the couch and looking out the window. The neighborhood children were making their way to the bus stop, occasionally stopping in front of her house to talk and pint. If it weren’t for the glow of the TV through the otherwise dark window, they probably would’ve thought the place was abandoned.

Something on the TV made Spinel perk up. A morning talk show she missed the name of was starting, and the host was welcoming on that day’s guests. It was the Damon family.

           Spinel sat up straight, her eyes glued to the TV. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw all three of the Damon women together. Winona, Yvonne, and Beatrix sat in chairs on the opposite side of the host. Someone else sat with the three of them, someone Spinel didn’t recognize. A boy, maybe sixteen years old. The title card that appeared under him read “Steven Universe, teen activist.”

           Even with that introduction, Spinel still had no idea who this kid was, or why he was with the Damon’s. She listened intently as Winona Damon began weaving a tale about all the changes Steven helped them make to the company, and how she’s confident that other corporations will follow their lead. It honestly sounded lovely, even if she didn’t know who this Steven kid was. He was obviously very passionate about the reform of corporate America.

           “My grandson here is the most compassionate person you’ll ever meet,” the elderly Winona said, smiling proudly, “All of Damon’s Diamonds are so happy to have him-”

           Spinel stopped listening, her head suddenly spinning with questions. Her grandson? Whose kid was he? Yvonne and Beatrix had always stated their intentions to remain child free, and Piper… Piper was…

           That’s when it clicked. The curly hair, the dark eyes, the smile. It was hers. It was all hers. But, no, that was impossible! Piper died too young to have a sixteen-year-old son… Unless…

           Spinel darted up from the couch and sprinted to the dining room, where decades worth of mail was piled onto the table. She rarely paid attention to what she brought in from the mailbox, just tossing it onto the table. Maybe she missed something. A letter, a postcard, any kind of message from Piper. She could still hear the TV as she meticulously went through every parcel.

           “I don’t want to be put on a throne for doing the right thing,” Steven said in response to a question from the host, “The world doesn’t need billionaires. I couldn’t spend that much money in a lifetime.

           “In fact, I’m not even going to be staying in New York for much longer. I’m heading back to Beach City tonight.”

           All noise after that faded to static as Spinel continued through the mail. She spent hours, maybe even a full day going through everything. She found nothing, no secret message, nothing from Piper. Tears stung in Spinel’s eyes as she looked to all the mail scattered around her. Through the various newspapers and magazine headlines she came across in her search, she’d managed to piece together the story. Piper faked her death in the fire. Rose Quintin, the woman who supposedly killed her, never existed. Piper was Rose. Piper set fire to her own warehouse and factory, ran off with a few friends to Delaware, and started a new life under the name Rose Quintin. She died for real sixteen years ago, after giving birth to her son, Steven. Going off the dates printed, it looked like the story first broke two years ago, after Steven first found out the truth about his mother. Spinel fell to her knees, her fists clenching around whatever mail was in front of her. The one spark of hope she’d had in years was violently stomped out as the realization that Piper had no intention of letting her know she was alive consumed her.

           Piper didn’t die in the fire. Piper lived an extra twelve years, and didn’t think to tell her best friend. Piper didn’t die in the fire. Piper didn’t die in the fire.

           Her body shaking, heart pounding, and tears flowing, Spinel felt something snap inside her. The mail she had in her hands was shredded into confetti as she started to scream. Furniture was thrown as she screamed until her throat burned. Gears turned in her head, powered by the hot fires of rage. She wanted revenge, she needed revenge, but Piper was dead, for real this time. It didn’t matter. Someone was going to pay. Someone was going to feel as much pain as she felt.

           She couldn’t quite remember what happened between throwing a chair through the TV screen and getting on a plane to Delaware, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

[scardoherty]

BASIC  INFORMATION.

FULL NAME: Scarlett Marina Doherty Kaufman When she moved away from home she changed her last name as a symbolic cutting off her family.

NICKNAME: Some call her Scar, much to her irritation. It’s not even a cute nickname.

OCCUPATION: Personal Shopper/Stylist

AGE: 36

DATE OF BIRTH: January 16, 1984

NATIONALITY: American

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis female, She/Her

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

RELIGION ( or lack thereof ): Agnostic, but was raised Jewish.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION.

HOMETOWN: San Francisco, CA

PLACES LIVED SINCE: Oakland, CA

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Portland, OR

LANGUAGE(s):  Fluent in both English and Russian, but English is her first language. She also can have conversational French. Conversational tagalog also.

SOCIAL CLASS: Upper middle class.

BASIC EDUCATION: High school diploma.

COLLEGE EDUCATION: None.

DEGREE(s): High school diploma.

MOTHER: A trophy wife mom -- Adina Kaufman.

FATHER: A sociopath father--Vadim Kaufman.

SIBLING(s): None/.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(s): Scarlett has only ever had one serious relationship when she was 25. He was the definition of the perfect boyfriend, everything she thought she should want but nothing seemed right. Two years into their relationship, he proposed and impulsively she accepted believing she was in love with him. Just days later she regretted her decision. thinking she would catch wedding fever, she stuck to the engagement and continued to plan out the wedding but emotionally became distant from her fiance. A year into their engagement they were married, and just six months after they finally wed, she decided she was going to divorce him. she met with an attorney and was near ready to serve the papers when he told her he was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. he fought for 7 months. She’s harbored a substantial amount of guilt knowing that as he was dying, she wanted to leave him.

Nothing else is worth mentioning. She usually keeps her relationships casual, hardly sleeps with anyone more than twice, and even that’s pushing it.

CHILDREN: No, thank God!

ADDITIONAL FAMILY: None--although it’s very possible she has half-siblings out there somewhere due to her father’s extramartial affairs.

PET(s): None--she had a goldfish once and that was a lot of responsibility.

RELATIONSHIPS.

EVER CHEATED?: No, not at all. She would never do that to someone because she saw the damage her father did from his multiple affairs.

BEEN CHEATED ON?: No. Other than her three year relationship, she hasn’t been in a relationship serious enough for it to get to that point.

LEVEL OF SEXUAL EXPERIENCES: She doesn’t date, but she frequently has one night stands.

STORY OF FIRST KISS: Her first kiss was with her best friend in 8th grade during a sleepover when she suggested that they should kiss since Scarlett said she was bored.

STORY OF LOSS OF VIRGINITY: It’s nothing exciting. In fact, it’s quite cliche which she hates. She lost her virginity the night of junior prom with a guy she had AP bio with.

A SOCIAL PERSON?: Superficially, yes, but she’s very particular with who she deems as a close friend.

MOST COMFORTABLE AROUND: A bottle of red wine.

HOW DOES SHE THINK OTHERS PERCEIVE HER?: charismatic, witty, beautiful.

HOW DO OTHERS ACTUAL PERCEIVE HER?: brutal, pretentious, beautiful

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

DOMINANT HAND: Righty.

ACCENT + INTENSITY: No accent--she can be super loud though.

TATTOO(s): No tattoos--no tainting her beautiful skin.

SCAR(s): She has a scar toward the back of her neck, right below her ear from trying to cut her own hair when she was nine years old. Her mother was less than pleased, to say the least.

PIERCING(s): She got her bellybutton pierced in high school and her earlobes are also pierced. 

GLASSES: Doesn’t wear glasses.

STYLE OF DRESS/TYPICAL OUTFIT: Scarlett dresses in very trendy, designer clothing. a casual coffee outfit would be a cream colored blouse with dark wash skinny jeans and a pair of brown booties, with her hair in a messy bun and gold hoop earrings. On a night out she would dress in a black skinny strip body con dress with black strappy heels with her hair down and a gold collarbone necklace.

UNIQUE MANNERISMS: She’ll lick her lips almost every time she takes a sip of coffee. when she’s drinking wine, she likes to tap her index finger just below the rim.

ATHLETICISM: She’s not into fitness, like at all. She loves to eat and she loves to drink. Her main source of exercise is walking for miles in her heels and running around stores.

HEALTH PROBLEMS: none.

CHARACTER PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS:

NEGATIVE TRAITS:

BIGGEST FEAR:

BIGGEST REGRET: Not telling her husband the truth before he passed away.

WHAT’S MORE IMPORTANT? SEX or INTIMACY?: Sex--plus sex is intimacy.

ARE YOU A LEADER or A FOLLOWER?: Leader.

ARE YOU SPONTANEOUS or DO YOU NEED A PLAN?: Need a plan.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN TRUE LOVE?: She knows it exists--but she truly doesn’t think she will ever find it. Not because she’s insecure or anything, but because she knows the whole being in love thing just is not for her.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE?: Nope.

DO YOU CARE WHAT OTHERS THINK OF YOU?: Absolutely not---in some regard. She is... very aware of her physical appearance.

HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH STRESS?: Drinking and eating.

WHAT IS A SONG YOUR CHARACTER RELATES TO THEIR LIFE?: Independent Women Pt. II by Destiny’s Child

VICES & HABITS.

DO YOU SMOKE?: She used to--she quit a little under a year ago. 

DO YOU DRINK?: Heavily. Just kidding, but it’s definitely one of her favorite hobbies.

DO YOU DO DRUGS?: No.

DO YOU HAVE ANY ADDICTIONS?: Yikes--she would never admit that she is addicted to junk food and addicted to alcohol...

DO YOU HAVE VIOLENT TENDENCIES?: No.

DO YOU HAVE ANY SELF-DESTRUCTIVE TENDENCIES?: Not that she is aware of.

MISC CHARACTER QUESTIONS.

IF YOUR CHARACTER COULD CHANGE ONE PHYSICAL DETAIL ABOUT THEMSELVES, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Her eyes. Her right eye is green-blue and her left eye is a hazel color. She’s rather just have green-blue eyes.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S FAVORITE PHYSICAL ACTIVITY? Walking. And sex, lowkey.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S LEAST FAVORITE PHYSICAL ACTIVITY?: Anything involving any type of exercise. But running and push-ups are awful. YOUR CHARACTER CAME FACE-TO-FACE WITH THEIR WORST ENEMY. WHAT IS THEIR FIRST REACTION? Passive aggressive smile and then comment about how ugly their shoes are.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S FONDEST CHILDHOOD MEMORY? The day she met her Lolo and Lula--who she wishes were her real parents.

SOMEONE ASKS YOUR CHARACTER TO DESCRIBE THEIR FAMILY. HOW DO THEY ANSWER? What family?

IS YOUR CHARACTER A MORNING PERSON, A NIGHT OWL, OR SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY? Definitely not a morning person--she’s more a night owl.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S LEAST FAVORITE COLOR? Brown.

A STRANGER MAKES A CRUDE COMMENT TO YOUR CHARACTER. HOW DO THEY REACT? “Fuck off, motherfucker!” Then she flips them off.

[daniellepstevens-blog]

Soon You’ll Get Better

I haven’t talked much about my experience with anyone in my life. So this should be healing. I was 21 years old.  I remember the moment my mom called me to tell me she was sick. I was at work, opening up a store alone. She said calmly, “I have something that I need to tell you. I have cancer.” I said “what?” My mom is one of the strongest people I have even met and private until necessary. I remember sitting in my store, customers coming in, my face beat red from crying, and them turning around and leaving the store. The next person wouldn’t arrive for an hour. This was an hour of absolute torture. I finally was able to leave. Forty minutes from her, I rushed home. I remember seeing her face, which was unusually relaxed for someone who had just found out they had cancer. Personally, I am someone who holds in my emotions and takes action. I called my boss and immediately started a leave of absence. I had made the decision on the spot that I was not going back to work till my mom was better. Days later, we walked into the doctors office to find out all of the information of what to expect. My mother had stage 3 throat cancer. She wasn’t even a smoker. The doctor said “The good news is I think we will be able to beat this cancer, the bad news is this is the most painful, demon of a cancer treatment.” Just before treatment started, she had to have a feeding tube placed directly into her stomach due to the fact that the radiation would completely stop her from being able to eat naturally. Radiation begins, Monday through Friday for months, and months. Chemo on Wednesdays each week. The pain was unimaginable. At 21 years old, I was completely in control of all of her medications which included extremely dangerous drugs. I fed her through her feeding tube as she laid there asleep. I fed her slowly for 8 hours a day so that she wouldn’t feel nauseous. Later into the treatment she was virtually unable to swallow. Buildup of thick saliva would get stuck in her throat and she would choke on it. I would reach in her mouth and literally pull it out. I realize this is a little dark, but cancer is dark. We are a few weeks away from the end of her treatment. Her doctor wants to start weening her off some of the extremely rough drugs she is on and up her Fentanyl patch. I asked them if they would keep her in the hospital if they were going to make this huge change of drugs because I just did not feel like I was capable of handling it. They assured me her body would be fine with the change. Boy they were wrong. I woke up every couple hours to check on her as usual, and early that morning I just felt like her coloring was a bit off. She was TURNING BLUE. My mother was overdosing in front of my eyes from the dose of the patch they had put on her. I called my brother and aunt to get over and they were there in minutes. We all made the decision to call 911 immediately and thank god we did. They got there, she was minutes from death. They stuck her with Narcan and all of the medication that she had been on for months and months all were shocked out of her body which is extremely dangerous. She started projectile vomiting blood and had a look of absolute confusion and fear in her face as they wheeled her by us into the ambulance. And don’t forget, she is vomiting out of a throat that she can barely swallow out of. Imagine the pain. My mom ended up in the ICU for over a week, then bumped to a normal floor for days, and eventually came home. To say this was the scariest moment of my life doesn’t even begin to explain my feelings. Working so hard day in day out 24/7 to keep her alive and then a change of her medication being what could have got her is absolutely insane. Mom is officially home. We as a family are exhausted. We just took everything one day at a time. And slowly she improved and got her functions back. Fast forward, I am 30, and I still have my mom.

I had a boyfriend at the time who I have to say was very supportive of me leaving my job and taking on the responsibility of bills which was so kind. But ultimately the ptsd I had from the whole experience put a huge dark cloud over our relationship. Understandably so, he was young, had never been through something like this before. I guess our relationship just was not strong enough to handle such a life altering situation.

It took years for me to be ready to be with anyone again. The pain from my mother and my breakup was just too much to handle at such a fragile age. After some serious healing, I met a guy who would be a friend for over a year before we decided to date. He was supportive on every level and so easy to be with. A year into our relationship, we got a call from his mother that his dad had went into the hospital and it didn’t look good. We drove six hours to the hospital to see him. After some testing had been done, the doctors told us that he had pancreatic cancer and wouldn’t ever leave the hospital. And he did not. He passed away 18 days later. Which on that day, we found out his mother had breast cancer. His mother ended up doing months of radiation and beat hers.

Two months later, my boyfriends cousin, a 21 year old Army Ranger took his own life. My poor boyfriend had never experienced pain like this in his life. But thankfully I know what its life to live through such hard times, and I was not going to abandon him like what had happened to me. He was a wreck for about a year. He didn’t feel like it was okay to be happy. Slowly, after many unwarranted fights, and moodiness, he began to see light again. We stuck together through it and at that point we knew we would be able to get through anything.

Fast forward, we got married in June of this year. The day after our wedding, his mother came to our hotel room to tell us that she has extremely aggressive uterine cancer. She had a full hysterectomy but still needs highly aggressive chemo and four radiation treatments. Our current goal is making her laugh and keeping things light. I bought some fun colored wigs and brought them to her before she lost her hair. We both put them on and went to the store to be silly. It made the though of losing her hair less scary. We spend every third Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday together as she gets her 6 hours of chemo.

I am not even sure if anyone will read this. But if you do, know that life is scary. There is just about nothing someone can do to make you feel happy when someone you love is sick. You just have to take things day by day. And if you are like me, when things get rough you internalize your feelings, have some sort of outlet. Mine has always been listening to music. Soon you’ll get better inspired me to write this novel to release my pain.

If you are ever in pain, feel free to reach out to me. <3

Taylor, thank you for writing a song that hits so close to home.<3 And I am so sorry for all that you have been through. @taylorswift​  @taylornation​

You’ll get better soon,

‘Cause you have to

<3

[sdohertys]

GENERAL:

NAME: Scarlett Marina Kaufman Doherty

NICKNAME: Some people call her Scar, much to her irritation. It’s not even a cute nickname.

BIRTHDAY: January 16

AGE: 34.

GENDER: Cis Female.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Petaluma, California.

PLACES LIVED SINCE: Oakland, CA; Walnut Creek, CA

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Walnut Creek, CA

NATIONALITY: American.

ETHNICITY: Ashkenazi Jewish.

PARENTS’ NAMES: Adina and Vadim Kaufman.

NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: None.

PERSONALITY TYPE: ESTP- A - THE ENTREPRENEUR

body image mention, abandonment, death (cancer)

RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMILY: Strained. One-sided. Basically non-existent. When Scarlett hit her teen years, she’d come to the conclusion that her mother wanted a child, but she didn’t want to be a mother to that child. Their conversations consisted mainly of Scarlett’s appearance and body image, pushing her to be the most prim and proper of ladies. Her mother never called her beautiful. Vadim, on the other hand, was never around to have a real conversation with his daughter, having gone out to meet with his mistress of the year. Might as well not even have a father. She’s cut herself off from her family to the point where she legally changed her last name so she could pretend she was not related to them. After getting many phone calls from her mom when she first moved away, Scarlett changed her phone number and blocked her mom from every social media platform.

CHILDHOOD TRAUMA: When Adina found out about her husband’s many affairs, she blamed Scarlett’s birth, having said that if she never gave birth to Scarlett perhaps her figure could still be desirable enough for her husband. She then proceeded to send ten year old Scarlett away to live with a Filipino couple in their mid-50s in Oakland, who raised her until she turned 17. Scarlett continued to feel unwanted by her own mother.

PHYSICAL:

HEIGHT: 5′4″

WEIGHT: 120 lbs.

BUILD: Slim and petite.

HAIR COLOR: Dark brown.

USUAL HAIR STYLE: She styles it differently every other day, but when she’s concentrating, she pulls it back in a high ponytail. When it’s down, the length is just two inches below her shoulder blades.

EYE COLOR: Her right eye is green-blue and her left eye is a hazel color.

GLASSES? CONTACTS?: Neither.

STYLE OF DRESS/TYPICAL OUTFIT(S): Scarlett dresses in very trendy, designer clothing. A casual coffee outfit would be a cream colored blouse with dark wash skinny jeans and a pair of brown booties, with her hair in a messy bun and gold hoop earrings.

TYPICAL STYLE OF SHOES: High heels.

JEWELRY? TATTOOS? PIERCINGS?: She got her belly button pierced in high school, and she also has her ears typically pierced.

SCARS: She has a scar toward the back of her neck, right below her ear from trying to cut her own hair when she was nine years old. Her mother was less than pleased, to say the least.

UNIQUE MANNERISMS/PHYSICAL HABITS: She’ll lick her lips almost every time she takes a sip of coffee. When she’s drinking wine, she likes to tap her index finger just below the rim.

ATHLETICISM: She’s not into fitness, like at all. She loves to eat and she loves to drink. Her main source of exercise is walking for miles in her heels and running around stores.

HEALTH PROBLEMS/ILLNESSES: None.

INTELLECT:

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: High school diploma.

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: Fluent in both English and Russian, but English is her first language. She also can have conversational French. Conversational Tagalog also.

LEVEL OF SELF-ESTEEM: It had taken a while for Scarlett to be comfortable in her own skin, just because her entire life she was told by her mother that she was never good enough, never pretty enough, or smart enough. As she continued to build her business, slept around with as many people as she desired, her confidence grew. People tell her she’s beautiful, and she never disagrees.

GIFTS/TALENTS: Public speaking, flattering, styling and outfitting someone. Pretending her parents don’t exist.

MATHEMATICAL?: NOPE. The only time she’s mathematical is when she’s figuring out how much she’ll save on a sale.

MAKES DECISIONS BASED MOSTLY ON EMOTIONS, OR ON LOGIC?: Both, I wanna say. Scarlett can be impulsive and controlling at times, but that’s driven by anger, irritation and lust. She usually cuts off most emotions when it comes to people.

LIFE PHILOSOPHY: When you don’t have your shit together, you have to dress like you do.

RELIGIOUS STANCE: She was raised Jewish but she’s not particularly religious.

CAUTIOUS OR DARING?: Daring.

MOST SENSITIVE ABOUT/VULNERABLE TO: Her childhood. Having moved across the country where hardly anyone knew her at the age of eighteen, it was a chance to have a fresh start.

OPTIMIST OR PESSIMIST?: Pessimist.

EXTROVERT OR INTROVERT?: Extrovert.

RELATIONSHIPS:

CURRENT RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual.

PAST RELATIONSHIPS: ( cancer tw, death tw)Scarlett has only ever had one serious relationship when she was 25. He was the definition of the perfect boyfriend, everything she thought she should want but nothing seemed right. Two years into their relationship, he proposed and impulsively she accepted believing she was in love with him. Just days later she regretted her decision. Thinking she would catch wedding fever, she stuck to the engagement and continued to plan out the wedding but emotionally became distant from her fiance. A year into their engagement they were married, and just six months after they finally wed, she decided she was going to divorce him. She met with an attorney and was near ready to serve the papers when he told her he was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. He fought for 7 months. She’s harbored a substantial amount of guilt knowing that as he was dying, she wanted to leave him.

Nothing else is worth mentioning. She usually keeps her relationships casual, hardly sleeps with anyone more than twice, and even that’s pushing it.

PRIMARY REASON FOR BEING BROKEN UP WITH: Emotionally distant, doesn’t want another serious relationship.

PRIMARY REASONS FOR BREAKING UP WITH PEOPLE: Doesn’t want a serious relationship.

EVER CHEATED?: No, not at all. She would never do that to someone because she saw the damage her father did from his multiple affairs.

BEEN CHEATED ON: No. Other than her three year relationship, she hasn’t been in a relationship serious enough for it to get to that point.

LEVEL OF SEXUAL EXPERIENCE: She doesn’t date, but she frequently has one night stands.

STORY OF FIRST KISS: Her first kiss was with her best friend in 8th grade during a sleepover when she suggested that they should kiss since Scarlett said she was bored.

STORY OF LOSS OF VIRGINITY: It’s nothing exciting. In fact, it’s quite cliche which she hates. She lost her virginity the night of Junior Prom with a guy she had AP Bio with.

A SOCIAL PERSON?: Superficially, yes, but he’s very particular with who he deems as a close friend.

MOST COMFORTABLE AROUND: A bottle of red wine.

OLDEST FRIEND: CONNECTION OPEN.

HOW DOES HE THINK OTHERS PERCEIVE HER?: Charismatic, witty, beautiful.

HOW DO OTHERS ACTUALLY PERCEIVE HER?: Brutal, pretentious, beautiful

SECRETS:

LIFE GOALS: Still up in the air.

DREAMS: To be a stylist on a Hollywood-type of level.

GREATEST FEARS: Not living an exciting life/growing complacent.

MOST ASHAMED OF: Her parents.

CRIMES COMMITTED (WAS HE CAUGHT? CHARGED?): Underage drinking, but I mean, lmao. She also stole a pair of shoes from a department store when she was 14, but was never caught.

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD?: Night Owl.

LIGHT OR HEAVY SLEEPER?: Heavy sleeper.

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Eh.

FAVORITE FOOD: Sinigang and rice. Half of her childhood consisted of her learning how to make Filipino dishes because of who she lived with.

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Highkey salad. Highkey, anything vegan.

FAVORITE BOOK: Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead by Sheryl Sandberg

LEAST FAVORITE BOOK: Doesn’t care enough to have a least favorite book.

FAVORITE MOVIE: She’ll say Roman Holiday but it’s really Terms of Endearment.

LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE: The Notebook.

FAVORITE SONG: Linger by The Cranberries but anything by Barry White. She loves Motown.

FAVORITE SPORT: She loves basketball and is biased toward the Golden State Warriors.

COFFEE OR TEA?: Wine. But coffee, yeah.

CRUNCHY OR SMOOTH PEANUT BUTTER?: Crunchy.

TYPE OF CAR HE DRIVES: Silver Rolls Royce.

LEFTY OR RIGHTY?: Right-handed.

FAVORITE COLOR: Burgundy.

CUSSER?: All the time.

SMOKER? DRINKER? DRUG USER?: She used to smoke, but quit after she ended her engagement. But yes, drinker. Loves to drink. It’s her favorite hobby.

BIGGEST REGRET: Letting her marriage go on for too long.

PETS: None.

[hogbullpup]

Ruminations-life, love, relationships

For the past nine months I haven’t been pursuing a boyfriend or boyfriends until either 1, my mental health improves, 2, I can move on from being a part-time caregiver for my mom and let my brother take over, 3, I can find a better job/career, or all of the above, but I’ve been feeling so lonely lately that I’m wondering if I should just say “fuck it” and get back on both growlr and twitter. Still, I feel like I haven’t gotten out a lot of my own thoughts about my personal shortcomings in my last relationship and other concerns before pursuing another one, and this is as good a place as any as no one’s really here anymore, so long story incoming...

About 6 years ago, after coming out as a proud lover of large, hefty men I started exploring chub/gainer communities around in the area and after a while found a big fella who ended up becoming my best friend, whom I’ll call C. We bonded very quickly; after a while we were hanging out once a week consistently and I soon developed feelings for him.

Around the time C and I were hanging out and bonding, my dad was diagnosed with stage four bladder cancer and 3.5 years ago passed away. 6 or so months after that C asked if I wanted us to be more than just friends, but I put him off because I was in a bad mental state, partly from my dad's brutal battle with cancer and partly from my own insecurities. This hurt C far more than I knew at the time, and I still don’t forgive myself for causing him that much pain.

Early 2018

Some time later, March 2018, I told C I was being dumb and that I loved him deeply, and we started dating, but he told me that in that time he had discovered the pup community and found a sir/handler, S, who was moving to the area soon with his other 2 pups. I on the other hand in that time had been looking for community with the Seattle bears and chubs, however I felt their scene was kind of cliquey, financially discriminatory, and on occasion racist (despite how physically attractive I found a lot of them--this was really frustrating for someone who is only attracted to bigger, fluffier men).

So in the first couple months of C and my relationship I started exploring the pup scene/fetish online and in a couple of gatherings, and enjoyed a lot of what I saw, but it also left me with more questions than answers (turns out I'm far more switch than dom) and C certainly couldn't answer all of them given the fact that he was still a very new puppy. He specifically admitted that the details of our relationship became harder because I wanted to explore pup play, but at the same time wasn't at all sympathetic because I was partly exploring pup play just because he was into it, which he really didn't like (I also lied about this which still makes me feel sick, and danced around the issue instead of just being honest and saying "babe I just wanted to explore and be involved in the things you like"). This became even harder for me because C was being quickly welcomed into S's family, and got his collar soon after they moved to the area. I didn't want at all to intrude on their family because it would be psycho rude and I didn't even know any of them, but I was also deeply protective of C at the same time, and didn’t know how to handle my insecurities. I wish I had the emotional knowledge then that I do now. Starting to date C was a big change for me going from open-but-committed to my first poly relationship, so I was upset that I couldn't explore poly WITH C. It didn't seem fair.

Jealousy took over and I started telling C that I might want to pursue a family like S had, because if he was able to build a family exclusively of cute, chub pups than so could I. C cautioned me that S got very lucky compared to most, and that the likelihood of me being able to find a few gay partners all of the chubby variety and all of whom are compatible was very unlikely, and even if possible would take years (but, to my frustration, he would never give me a clear NO). While this sat heavy with me and I knew he was most likely right, it didn't help with my feelings of complete helplessness and isolation in my situation. I continued to ruminate. A big part of it that I fully regret and admit to is jealousy, and I had no idea before this whole situation that I was such a jealous person. But there was also massive anxiety--the feeling that there was nothing I could do, a feeling I don't handle that feeling very well, and I think it made my jealousy worse.

So instead of being patient, exploring pup play, enjoying the chub/chaser relationship I had with C, and just seeing how things went, I BADGERED C for some 7-8 weeks with impossible questions like...

"how would dom (me) and sub (him) pup interactions work given the fact he already has a handler?" 

or "how can we ever belong to a larger family unit together (this was a big one for me) if your family is full,"  (I wasn’t his handler’s type anyway. He likes big chubs like I do so deep down I knew this was putting pressure on C to expand our relationship without asking if that was ok first),

or "what if in my explorations I discover I want want to be a handler or just part of a larger family, and somehow want you to be a part of that with me together without stepping on your handler's toes? How will that be possible?" (I knew C was an introvert and probably wouldn’t really have the energy/time to put into another complex relationship like that with me).

I knew that these questions were impossible to answer but still I continued to harass him, even though C told me on multiple occasions I was stressing him out and needed to back off and handle my jealousy and insecurities ("jealousy is poison in poly relationships", he said, and wasn't wrong). And in Fall, after a heated argument, he requested we take a 1 month break, which I spent learning to meditate and mitigate my anxiety and insecurities, while also begging fate for us to be able to stay together. When we met back up, I made my case that I was working hard to overcome anxiety and jealousy, but he told me the damage had been done. I was crushed.

Late 2018

After we broke up I continued to pursue meditation, but to be completely honest it barely kept the anxiety at bay and eventually I just gave up. I lost sleep over losing C for some 5 months, unable to clear my head of all those unanswerable questions for at least 2 hours most nights before falling asleep. I had lost both my best friend and lover, and at the time he was still rooming with my gaming friends and it was awkward for me to hang out, so I just felt alone, which is, without doubt, my one driving fear and what I wanted to avoid at all possible costs.

I remember thinking over and over again that I wished I had never put C off in the first place and had admitted my feelings to him sooner, but at the same time wouldn't have wanted anything to change as far as him meeting S and family. I just wanted things to somehow work between us as I explored what it meant for me to be poly.

Nov-Feb

In the months following our breakup I fought to recover from these feelings of loneliness by STILL continuing to attending pup social events and even a mosh (though I didn't participate in the mosh). It was hard when I would see S and his three pups show up, and I had to fight off nagging bad thoughts every time it happened. Still, I met a couple of very nice chubby pups who I bonded with and became friends. Sadly, despite liking both of them, one couldn't afford to live in Seattle anymore and moved back to Wisconsin, and the other (whom I really liked but was too damaged from my breakup to pursue) got adopted by a couple of husbands and moved just outside of Milwaukee with them. It felt like the universe was picking on me for my fear of being left out or rejected. I was alone again.

Somehow I persisted and survived, but my memories of the few months after that are such a dull blur I'm not sure I was even alive at the time. C and I are good friends again and I have a core group of friends (including him) who I feel close to and game with about once every 2 weeks. I still love him a lot but he's not looking for anything and I need to moderate my attraction to him. Also, time I spend hanging out with him is time I'm not spending looking for a big partner to call my own so I feel weird sometimes when I play around with him and my feelings are so fucking strong. I would like to find a guy I have that connection with who also wants to live together. It's depressing how hard something that simple is to find.

Anyways this has gone on for far too long, but I needed to write down my ruminations somewhere and also double down on goals and reminders for future relationships so I don't make the same mistakes I did before:

-If I'm attracted to a guy as much as I was attracted to C, I need to remember and understand that there probably will be major consequences to putting them off, even if it's for my own comfort.

-If a guy asks me to give him space, legitimately do it, and don't be actively looking for the next opportunity to talk about difficult things.

-If I date a man and he has a master or another family, I need to be happy for him, and not try to follow in his path, unless that's something he would enjoy/welcome (C didn’t, and I didn’t want to accept that). But also emphasize that a family like that is what I’m looking for and ask him to be gentle/supportive with me while I pursue it.

-If I date a man with a master, I need to be patient, respectful, and willing to communicate with him at his pace. After a while I can hopefully ask if I can work to earn the handler/master’s trust to not have to ask permission to do most things with my partner. If that option isn’t available, then it’s probably not the relationship for me.

-Accept that large men who are happy being large and soft are few and far between, and finding one into me is going to take significantly longer than a typical gay relationship, and that if I'm not out there looking, the few opportunities that are there are going to come and go.

-Learn to balance being flexible with knowing my limits, and knowing when to put my foot down. I honestly should have been the first to cut my relationship off with C because he didn't want his partners to cross or for sexual experiences in one bedroom to be shared in the other's bedroom. And right away that should have been a huge warning sign for me because that's something that's very important to me in a poly relationship (though at the time I was very new to poly so that was the first time I discovered what I wanted). I think I partly held on to him so hard because, other than my emotional feelings for him (which built up over some 3+years), there just aren't that many 300+lb non-judgmental guys who are going to find me as attractive as I find them. Regardless, no matter how many boxes a guy ticks for me, if something bugs me that much then I need to not settle.

-Patience. Patience. Patience. I need to learn to relax. It's possible that everything between C and I would have worked out if I'd just been patient. Perhaps not, but I'll never know how much I can accomplish with patience unless I try.

Well, I guess it's time to get back on growlr, dig up my old twitter, and hope for the best.

[thetreecorner]

You Can’t Run From This (Logan Sanders x FTM!Reader)

Request?: Yep!

Requested by who?: @infinityonthot

AU: Human/High School AU

Characters: Logan, Roman, Patton, and Virgil Sanders, FtM!Reader

Warnings: lots and lots of angst, cursing, mentions of a mini panic attack, NOT A HAPPY ENDING, a flashback in which the birth name of the reader is used. Also, kind of unedited?

Words: 2,871

A/N: I listened to “Runaway” by Against the Current while writing this. It doesn't fit the story 100% but it's pretty close. Give it a quick listen!

(Also, fun fact, but my HS did Almost, Maine (which I mention in this story) my Junior year and I played Marci)

---

Logan Sanders was the smartest dumb ass you'd ever met, and he was your best friend. Logan had always been good with numbers, and with science, and with his writing, but when it came to social interactions the boy was a dud. Maybe that was what attracted you to him. You'd always been attracted to the awkward, nerdy type. Logan fit that perfectly.

You'd met Logan back in elementary school along with his twin brothers, Patton, Roman, and Virgil (you'd never meet quadruplets before so your head spun the first time you saw the four of them together in the same room).

Roman had always been too loud for your taste. You enjoyed his enthusiasm to a certain extent, but the boy never ran out of energy. It was as if he siphoned it out of you and into himself, because the tireder you got the more energy he had for himself.

Patton was an absolute sweetheart, so much so that he seemed to give you cavities every time you talked. And as much as you enjoyed his company, the two of you were never close. Patton was stuck to Roman's side like glue. The two would come up with the most imaginative stories. The kind that only had happy endings, which you weren't too fond of. You'd tried to tell them that not every story has a happy ending, but the puppy dog eyes Patton gave you (and the smug one from Roman) stopped you.

Virgil was a mystery for many years. In elementary school he never spoke to anyone except his siblings, and it was always in a quiet, secretive tone. Even after you'd been friends with his brothers for three years he hadn't said more than a handful of words to you (most of those words being “sorry” or “hi”). You didn't have your first real conversation with the introvert until your freshman year, where the two of you had been put into the same PE class. You had to talk him through a mini attack when he realized he'd have to wear shorts and no sleeves in front of the whole class. The two of you got pretty close after that, and more often than not Virgil was stuck to your side as if you were one of his brothers.

But of the four brothers, you had always been the closest to Logan. Patton, Roman, and Virgil always stuck together, but you noticed early on that Logan kept to himself. Instead of getting up to play with the others during recess, he sat up against the wall of the classroom to read or do homework. The books he read intrigues you - The Invisible Man, Murder on the Orient Express, Sherlock Holmes. He almost never read the same book for more than a couple of days.

You had approached him one time during recess and plopped on the ground next to him, leaning on his shoulder to get a look at the book.

“What are you-”

“What's an ‘evil eye’?” You'd cut him of, scanning the page he was on.

“What?” He sounded annoyed, and confused, but you were determined.

“It says right here ‘his evil eye’. What about the man's eye is evil?” You frowned.

“Have you never read Edgar Allan Poe?” You shook your head, pigtails flying. You hated when your mom put your hair up. She never did a simple ponytail, she always insisted on pigtails.

“Mommy won't let me. She says they're not for kids my age. But you're reading it. Is it scary?” You kept your eyes on the page.

“No, (birth name).” His short answers frustrated you.

“Can you read it to me?” You sat back, finally looking him in the eyes.

“What?” He was frowning. You didn't like the way he looked when he frowned. You wished he would just smile for once.

“I'm kind of a slow reader. If I try to read it over your shoulder, I won't be able to keep up. But if you read it out loud I'll be at the same part you're at no matter what.”

“Shouldn't you be playing? Like the other kids?” He'd turned back to his book, but you knew he wasn't reading because you. Could see he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Why? You're not.”

After that day, whenever you got bored of playing with the others, you'd sit with Logan and he would begrudgingly read to you. Your parents were impressed with the way your reading level went from that of a first grader to that of a fifth, but you never told them about the stories Logan read to you, because a lot of them were books your mom told you that you'd have to wait to read until you were older.

Like Frankenstein. You and Logan had constant arguments about who was at fault in the book.

By Sophomore year, the two of you were having reading competitions to see who could finish their book first. More often than not Logan won (though, admittedly, you let him win sometimes).

You enjoyed Logan's company. Even if he had been rather cold when you first met him, Logan had become your most trusted friend. He was the first person you'd told about being transgender, and you were the first person he had told about being gay. You'd assisted him in coming out to his family, and he had comforted you when your mother took the news of your identity as if you'd told her you had stage four cancer.

Your father, on the other hand, had taken you directly to the barber when it was his weekend (your parents divorced when you were young, and your father got the weekends) to get your long hair chopped off. Your mother had been furious.

That was Freshman year, and though she didn't like it, your mother eventually “came to terms”, as she called it, with you being a boy. She tried, albeit not very hard, to remember to call you by (name), though the slip ups she made were frequent.

You couldn't wait to move out to live with your dad.

Or with Logan.

The two of you had discussed moving in together for a while, maybe inviting Virgil to join you. Logan had mapped it all out, and the idea excited you. As much as you loved your father, you wanted the kind of freedom that came from living away from your parents. Not to mention you had a major crush on the nerdy boy, and living with him would bring you happiness you'd never had at home.

From what you could tell, Logan liked you too. Despite his usual distaste for human contact he had no problem with you leaning on him while the two of you read in silence, or when you held his hand when at the mall so you wouldn't get lost in the large crowds. He didn't yell at you when you mused his hair or when you jokingly pinched his cheeks. He would always tell you if you were about to go to far, or if he wasn't in the mood for contact, and you respected that.

It was Junior year the first time someone asked if the two of you were dating. You were having lunch with Patton and his small group of friends because Logan had decided to have lunch with his Science teacher, and Virgil was home sick with the flu. June, a small brunette with big green eyes whom exclusively wore pastel sweaters and ripped blue jeans had been the one to ask.

“Excuse me?”

“You and Logan! You two are adorable together, I was wondering if you were dating.”

“June,” Patton has begun to warn her when you just shook your head, cheeks dusted a light pink as you scooped some leftovers from home into your mouth.

“No,” you told her. “We're not.”

“That's a shame! You two would make, like, the perfect couple.”

“Uh, thanks?”

That wasn't the last time someone asked you.

You'd joined tech crew for the school's production of Almost, Maine, and while you and Chase Kent had been messing with the lights he too asked if you were dating Logan. Apparently he'd seen the way you two looked at each other and “how could you two not be together?”

Another time, it was a girl you barely knew, and then someone you had never even met, but apparently knew Logan from Chess Club. The more people who asked you, the more you realized you wish you could say yes.

There was only a couple problems:

One, even if everyone told you, even if for a while you believed it yourself, you would never be 100% confident that he liked you the way you liked him.

Two, in all the years you'd known him Logan had never once went after someone he was even slightly interested in. At first you thought of it as a blessing, but now it was a curse.

This left you with two options. Tell one of your friends your situation and force them to force you into asking him, or wait a million years to see if Logan would take the first step, both of which you were not keen to try.

Patton had been your biggest supporter in your endeavor to get together with your nerdy best friend. He always encouraged you to “take the leap”.

“I know my brother,” He would say. “And he definitely like-likes you.”

No matter how many times he told you this, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully believe it. You were positive that neither of you were going to make a move.

That was, until that night.

You and Logan had been working over the phone on some math homework you’d been having trouble with, when you had cracked a stupid math-related joke and he drowned in a wave of laughter.

Hearing him laugh caused your heart to swell. At school, hanging out with friends, he was so calm and collected and the most you’d ever get out of him was a small chuckle, a slight smile - but this. This laugh could have brightened up even the darkest of your days.

Then, you felt something you hadn’t felt for a very long time. You felt the pull, the need for him to be yours. A wave of confidence you’d only felt when standing up for your friends against those who threatened them, or when you’d agreed to join the Improv club with Roman.

It was now or never, you told yourself. You’d never be this confident again, not in a million years and a lot of wasted birthday wishes.

“Hey, Logan?” You said, cautious and unsure.

“Yeah?” He’s said as he came off his high.

“You remember that one time, when Patton explained happiness like a puzzle with a million pieces?” You asked him. You remembered it clear as day. You could never get the comparison out of your head.

“I believe so. One of his more poetic moments.”

“You remember how he said that, even if it took someone a long time to find their edge piece, finding it makes life a little more bearable?” You asked.

“Yes, I believe that’s what he said?” Logan sounded confused, and for a moment you were tempted to just say ‘never mind’ and drop the topic.

But not this time.

No.

This time, you took in a deep breath and let your next words spill out.

“Well, I think I found mine.” There was a moment of silence.

“Did you?” He still sounded confused, and panicked wracked your body.

He’s going to reject me.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god-

“You.” Silence. A long silence.

“Me?” He finally said, and you couldn’t read anything in his voice.

“Yeah. I, uh… I guess I’ve been trying to tell you this for a while, Lo… I really, uh… I really care about you.”

“I care about you to.” He said, but you could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He didn’t understand. Or maybe he did and he wasn’t going to admit it.

“No, Lo… I... “ You pinched the bridge of your nose.

Just drop it, please just drop it-

“I like you, Lo.” More silence.

“Oh.” Was all he was able to muster out.

“Yeah…”

“I have to go.” He said suddenly, and before you could get another work out he hung up.

That night had been one of the hardest in your life. You spent the majority of the next couple hours crying, and texting Logan with no replies. You texted Patton, who said that Logan hadn’t come out of his room. You texted Virgil, who said he wasn’t opening the door. You even texted Roman, who was apparently out and had no clue about the situation at hand.

When you went to school the next day, you didn’t see Logan. You didn’t have any classes together, but you didn’t see him in the halls or at lunch, and all of his brothers said he was at school.

Every text was ignored, his brothers could never get a word out of him concerning you.

You felt broken.

The longer this went on, the further into depression you fell.

One week became two. You stopped texting him.

Two became three. You stopped asking his brothers about him.

Three became four, and you found comfort in Virgil, Patton, and Roman’s company. They would eat lunch with you, and hang out after school. They filled in the hole Logan had left in your heart friend-wise, but still you continued to hurt. Your dad was worried - hell, your mom was worried. But you would tell them nothing was wrong. Lying about how you felt became second nature.

Then, one day after school you found yourself sitting outside, waiting for your dad to pick you up for your weekend fun, when you heard him.

“(Name)?” You tensed up, the sadness and the anger you’d repressed throughout the day returning. You said nothing. “You okay?” He said, his voice quiet. You nodded slowly.

“I’m fine.” You grumbled, an obvious lie. As he sat beside you, you found yourself scooting away.

“How’d your science project go?” He asked casually. You tugged at the drawstring of your hoodie, eyes searching the road frantically for your dad’s car. Why couldn’t he arrive sooner?

“Fine.” You said, hands finally folding in your lap.

“That’s good. You had a brilliant idea. If you got anything less than an A then your teacher is-” You’re so frustrated you can’t stop yourself from cutting him off.

“Stop.” You tell him.

“What?” You scoff at his confusion, and finally lift your gaze to meet his.

“Just stop. What are you trying to do?” You ask him, biting back your anger.

“I was… I was just trying to have a conversation, (Name).” He said, his tone a mixture of confusion and hurt. But you didn’t feel bad - no, nowhere near. You were livid.

“No, Logan. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks - you don’t just ignore your best friend for weeks and then just start up a casual conversation. Especially not after what I told you.” You tell him, grabbing your bag and standing up. You check your phone, and see a text from your dad that tells you he’s only a couple blocks away.

“(Name), I’m sorry.” Logan said, his voice soft.

“That’s not enough.” You snap, shoving your phone in your pocket. “I’m sorry doesn’t fix what you did.”

“Can’t we just drop it?” He sighs, and it’s like he pokes your anger with a stick. You want to scream at him, so that’s what you do, and you can tell it catches him by surprise.

“No! No, Logan, we can’t! This is not something we can just save for a later date! You can’t run from this!” You tell him, and he stands up too, taken aback.

“I’m not running from anything!” He argues.

“You’re running away from me! I like you, Logan! I have for a very long time, and you have no clue what it took for me to tell you!” You take a moment to breath. “You hurt me, Logan.” You tell him, your voice barely above a whisper. You can see your dad’s car pulling up.

“I never meant to.” He tells you meekly.

“Well you did.” You say, moving away from him. He goes to take your hand, but you pull it away. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

“(Name), I-” He starts, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him.

“My dad is here. I gotta go.” You tell him, your feet rushing you towards the familiar red truck.

“I’ll text you!” He calls out, but you’re already hauling yourself into the passenger's seat.

“Drive.” You tell your dad. He gives you a worried look, and you know he probably sees Logan standing helpless outside.

“Is everything alright?” You shake your head vigorously, holding back your tears as best ad you could.

“Please, just drive.” You say again. There’s a moment before you feel the car begin to move, and you watch as your best friend fades in the rear view mirror.

It was your turn to run.

[lilsherlockian1975]

I need to unleash about my family and, unfortunately, I must do it here. Else I explode!

Feel free to ignore me but I could really use some love and support. It’s under the cut...

Backstory: About two years ago, I got into a HUGE fight with my oldest sister regarding my mother and her finances. I will admit, I’d made some mistakes. Let me be clear: I wasn’t spending her money - far from it - I had neglected to pay her property taxes at the house she all but abandoned when she moved in with us 7 years ago. Honestly, I lied to my sisters the handful of times they bothered to ask about it (they were more than happy to just ignore most of what was going with her and let me ‘deal’ with everything). I was overwhelmed and refused to admit that I needed help. 

**I hate to fail. Hate it!! Especially in the eyes of my family.**

So, I blew them off, “Yeah, all taken care of” when frankly, I had no idea what was going on with it. I didn’t have access to mom’s checking account was not (am still not!) on it, even though she has asked me to do so several times. It’s too much. I have enough on my plate to take on her money as well. 

I take care of her entirely alone. Not just a bit, I literally do everything for her except feed her and light her cigarettes (although on bad days or if it’s windy, I sometimes do). At our old house, she could at least get around, somewhat on her own, but not here. Someone (90% of the time me) has to wheel her from room to room and outside to smoke. 

Since moving, she seems to be in the beginning stages of dementia (I have a Speech Therapist coming over this week for an assessment). She has good days and bad. Sometimes, on bad days, she forgets how to walk - and when I say walk, I mean transfer from chair to wheelchair or wheelchair to toilet and so on. Last night, for instance, after her bath, she suddenly forgot how to stand and pull up her diaper at the same time. I was forced to hold her full weight of 200lbs and pull up the diaper at the same time. She put all her weight on my left shoulder, dead weight. I managed to keep her from falling, but because she’s so short (about 5′1″ and I’m 5′11″) I had to drop to my knees and brace her like I was changing a toddler. I thought she’d dislocated my shoulder but in now I think it’s probably just a pulled muscle. We’ll not talk about my knees, which aren’t in good shape from years of abuse, playing sports.  My point is: this is fucking hard. I quit my job to do this and it affects every aspect of my life, my marriage, my family. My typical day starts at 7.30am. If I’m lucky, Mom’s still asleep when I take H to school, but she’s always awake when I get home, yelling my name: Liiiiilllliiiiaaaan! In a sing-song voice. I HATE my name. Please never call me Lillian. Ever! I help her out of bed and into her wheelchair - about half the time she’s either soaked the bed (thankfully, my brilliant husband bought her a water-proof hospital mattress and it can be cleaned easily with bleach - but the laundry is another story), peeing through her diaper or crapped herself - no matter what time I get her up. We wheel into the bathroom and I clean her. If it’s bad (a nasty poo): Bathtime! If not, I still have to clean my mother’s bottom and girl-bits (repeat that about 4 to 5 times a day). She wants her meds next (my mother LOVES taking medicine) then wants to smoke, so it’s off to the porch. While she’s out there, I prepare her breakfast (usually an Ensure, some fruit and something sweet - old people love sweet things because those are the last tastebuds to ‘die’, or so I’m told). I’ve also been giving her some tea to replace the craptastic Diet Rite that I now refuse to let her have (she’s still mad at me about that one!). She’s usually good for about an hour or so, then it’s back outside for more cancer sticks. In between her smoking trips, I’m cleaning, doing laundry and P’s homeschooling (which is basically at an end, but he’ll be doing a smaller summer program too). Sometimes she naps, sometimes, when her bipolar is flaring, she calls me over and over, just for attention. I understand, it’s part of her and there’s nothing she can do about it. Then lunch (and clean up, because she always drops food) smoking, bathroom, smoking, bathroom. Dinner - clean up. Smoking, bathroom, smoking, bathroom. She’s suddenly refused to read - the only thing I remember actually doing from my youth - and now obsessively watches CNN. I feel responsible for this; I’ve turned my conservative, fundamental Christian mother into (and I’ll quote my beloved father on this one) a Pinko! She’s a liberal all of a sudden. Whatever. Every other day, she gets a bath. Once a week I wash and set her hair. I have to apply eye treatments, help her with her nebulizer, and administer her meds (if not, she overtakes them). I also try to keep her mind engaged, hoping it will stave off any deterioration that’s happening, talking about current events, reading my (not smutty) stories, asking any questions I can think of to make her brain ‘work’. She goes to bed at 10 on the dot every night and FINALLY, I can be alone with my husband if we manage to get the boys to leave alone, that is. 

Why would I do this? And, why am I bitching? I asked for it, right?

I’ve only mentioned this once before, and just recently broached it with my psychiatrist (because he figured it out, the sneaky bastard! “Lillian, did your father pointedly ask you to take care of your mother before he died?” - Internally: Of course he did, you sadist! Out loud: “Yes, he did. And I promised him I would.” - “What did he say? His exact words? I know you remember them.” - I really don’t want to do this... “Someone will have to take care of her, Lillian, she’s never taken care of herself. Never balanced a checkbook, never pumped her own gas. I can’t leave not knowing she’ll be okay. I love her too much...” I’ll never forget it. That man’s devotion is why I’m so fucked up! “And you feel like you can’t let him down?” Fuck me! Now I’m crying!)

I don’t know if he had similar conversations with the other kids (three of them, all much older and none of them with kids at home! Frankly, I don’t care. ALL of them make significantly more money than me and Mr Lil - we are practically destitute compared to all of them!) but I got her and she’s mine. I do this because it’s the right thing to do.

Now, to my current frustration, finally. Gin, my oldest sister, is selling mom’s house for $10,000. It may be worth more, but this is not my problem. Mom’s agreed to it and I don’t want to be involved. Her day to day care is my problem, not her money. I don’t touch it other than to reimburse us for what we spend on her, and nothing more. Mom, on one of her better days, told me she wants to pay me for caring for her, but I’m afraid about the backlash from the family. Mind you, she (alone!) makes more than we do as a family of 4. She also wanted to give us $2000 toward the house. I refused it for the same reason. She doesn’t know this, thinks I took it.  Gin has access to her account - she put herself on the account - she did this even though mom wasn’t really comfortable with it. Today, she texts me & our other sister in a group text, telling me to send a $3000 check to pay off the back property taxes (that she was supposed to be taking care of since I failed to... um, she failed as well, what do ya know?!). I text back, ‘can mom pay that much at once’ - she says, ‘yes’ - I still have to buy mom’s meds and a new walker this week and all her normal expenses, so I ask Gin how much mom has in her account. Her response? ‘Enough, Lillian. Just send the check.’. 

I ask you, how is that suppose to make me feel? It’s like she doesn’t trust me with the amount. Like I’m gonna go nuts and buy myself somethin’ French! But the idiot doesn’t realise that I have the account holder in my living room. I have mom call the bank and find out. She’s got well over $6000. How is that not enough to know that I’ve not been thieving from our mother?!  I’m so tired of being trusted to wipe her ass but not with anything else! I work my ass off for her - never going on vacation, never really taking much (or any) time for myself while the others take two, three, four trips a year. I can’t leave her alone and just go shopping or have a day out with my family. The other night, we wanted to go out to eat and try the new Mexican place in town. Mom didn’t want to go. We couldn't leave her, so... nope. Pizza again. When the four of us went to see End Game, my mother-in-law came to sit with her, not either of my sisters (and certainly not my worthless brother who, admittedly, lives 3 hours away but hasn’t phoned ONE TIME in the last 7 years to check on her... or me!). They couldn’t be arsed. Gin has promised over and over to ‘take her for the weekend, every two weeks’ to ‘give me a break’. It’s happened once, the weekend we moved. Never before, never again. She’s never really thanked me, even though she told our sister that she has. After returning mom after the move she told me that she told her husband, “Lillian deserves sainthood for doing this every day. Mom exhausted me and I only had her for two and a half days.” It was the only (I’m not even exaggerating) time she’s ever even mentioned how hard this is.  I don’t want anything from them. I don’t ask for their help because I know they won’t give it (my middle sister actually said, ‘don’t ask me to help with mom, I won’t do it’) but how about not making me feel like a dirtbag? How about, I don’t know, saying, “Hey, Lillian, Mom has plenty of money, you should pay yourself a bit every month. You work hard to make her quality of life really good and deserve it.” Or even a simple, “Thank you. Thank you for taking care of our mother, we appreciate that you do it and we don’t worry about her safety and wellbeing.” No one has EVER said this to me. Not once. 

[ofmarcos]

( shawn mendes, cismale, he/him ) i just saw MARCO SPIEGELMAN walking down the street’s of provincetown the other day playing 100 BAD DAYS BY AJR out loud. rumor has it that the TWENTY TWO year old is WARMHEARTED, but can also be UNNECESSARILY OVERWROUGHT — overall they’re a POLYMATH. they remind me of A WORN GUITAR NECK WITH OLD STRINGS, COMING HOME THREE MINUTES BEFORE CURFEW, A CRACKLING WOODFIRE, AND FRESHLY BLOWN OUT BIRTHDAY CANDLES. ( ophelia, 19, est, they/she )

hello guys, gals, and non-binary pals, my name is ophelia and it’s lovely to meet u all!! i am nineteen, living in florida, work at an escape game, and my t key on my laptop gets stuck so um if u ever see me leave a t out of a word that’s why. also, fun fact!! i’m originally from a small town in ma about a two hour drive from provincetown :O but enough about me !! this is marco, he’s an actual meme, and you can read all about him under the cut. like this and i’ll come slide into ur dms for plots. <3

(also this got way longer than anticipated, i’m sorry, pls love me)

PINTEREST.

tw: cancer, death, car crash, addiction

marco joshua spiegelman was born on an overcast august day in the city of boston, massachusetts. he was the fourth child and the youngest by seven years, meaning that in some way, he was his parents’ last hope.

the spiegelman family practiced orthodox judaism – his dad was raised orthodox and his mom converted from reform judaism in order to marry his dad– so marco’s childhood was very much focused on religion. the spiegelman family went to services every friday night, celebrated every holiday, forced marco to wake up early on sundays to go to hebrew school, and treated him they same as they had treated his older siblings. however, as his siblings grew up and moved out, they all stopped devoutly practicing judaism and moved into a more modern and laid back interpretation of their religion. marco craved this from a young age, but because he was stuck at home with his parents, he was forced to follow their rules and beliefs.

marco went to jewish private school for elementary and middle school, had his bar mitzvah in the seventh grade, and tried to blend in as best as he could. he liked history and english, eager to learn more about the past and help shape the future. at this point in his life, he had his goal of becoming a politician pretty much set. he would help the end the fighting in israel, solve world hunger, and just be an all around awesome guy.

however, his plans shifted on valentine’s day his eighth grade year. after coming home from school, his parents sat him down and told him that his dad had stage four exocrine pancreatic cancer. he knew that his dad had been losing weight and not eating as much recently, as well as complained all the time that his back hurt, but marco didn’t realize that it was something so terrible and life threatening.

with a survival rate of about one percent, the spiegelman family knew that his dad’s chances of survival were not good. the next few months were difficult, his dad went through lots of chemotherapy and experimental trials, but nothing seemed to be working, and he passed away before june. this crushed marco and his mom; his dad was a kind, gentle, and loving person, and the three of them had grown extremely close with each other due to marco being the youngest and the only child still living in the house.

it was hard for the two of them to live by themselves in a town that his mom didn’t really have any connection to, so a few months after his dad’s passing, marco and his mom moved to provincetown, the place where she had grown up, to try and start fresh. their new beginning came coupled with the loss of their connection to their religion, and marco and his mom no longer practiced judaism

freshman year in a brand new town was intimidating for marco, and this resulted in him being extremely quiet and shy for the majority of the year. however, his history teacher saw how invested in history and current events he was and convinced marco to join the debate team. this is where he found his voice once again.

marco did a type of debate called public policy debate, a style of debate where you talk extremely fast and have to do an insane amount of research to ensure that you know what you’re talking about. in order to participate in that style of debate, his teacher assigned him a partner and he grew extremely close to her very quickly. the two of them went on to win the national title their sophomore and junior years

after joining debate, marco grew more confident in himself and began to talk more both in and out of class. being good at something gave him the boost he needed to no longer be shy, and he was well liked by most people at school. this was also when he found the snackpack, and he has always been grateful for their presence in his life.  marco’s sophomore and junior years were quite possibly the best years of his life.

however, right before the trophy ceremony his junior year, he got a call from his mom, telling him that his sister had gotten in to a car crash and that she was in a coma in a hospital in san francisco. marco flew to san fran immediately after receiving the call, leaving his partner to collect the trophy on his behalf.

for the following two weeks, marco rarely left the hospital for fear that his sister would pass away without him there. although the two of them were not that close, losing another family member was something that marco could not imagine. on the fifteenth day of her being in the hospital, the doctors said that there was nothing they could do to save his sister. so they harvested her organs as donations, and the spiegelmans were forced to put another member of their family into the ground.

senior year came around and marco was a changed person. he was not as passionate or confident as he used to be, he quit debate, and he focused on judaism again to try and give his life some meaning. however, he explored the type of judaism his sister was into, reform judaism, based more on learning and exploring the ideas of religion than sitting in a sanctuary and praying.

although he skipped school often and had mediocre grades, he managed to graduate, his dreams seeming unimportant and his life in shambles. throughout this, he still managed to keep a positive attitude, now convinced that god had a plan for him and that everything would work out fine. he does have really bad anxiety tho, so it’s this classic combination of trying to have faith in the way things work out but never really being sure that they will

without his debate professor, he wouldn’t have even gotten into college, but with the help of someone making sure he followed through, he got into u mass amherst to study sustainable food & farming. this seemed like a out of the blue choice, but it combined marco’s love of research & science, and allowed him to feel like he could have a greater impact on the world than he could as a politician. 

college went by without incident, but here are some highlights (joined hillel and loved being w/ other jews, was a nerd, did nerd things **including a lot of acid, lived his best life)

he just graduated and is home for the summer, he has a job working for the local farmers’ market, and is just chillin’, trying not to think about the other shoe that is bound to drop

he’s doing okay, and that’s all he’ll ever answer the question “how are you?” with

headcanons:

marco worked as a waiter at an italian restaurant in high school so that he could have spending money. money was never a problem in his household as his mom is a cardiologist, but he always felt bad asking for money for things, so he made his own money instead

if marco was a crayola crayon, he’d be pine green. the color is a bit darker than most of the other greens in the crayola family, just like marco in his family, but also has a hint of blue in it, hinting at the sadness that lies beneath marco’s outer layer.

marco really loves old school video games. his old nintendo 64 is collecting dust in his closet, and although he rarely has time to play it anymore, he refuses to throw it out. while growing up, video games were his way of connecting to his two older brothers, his older sister always watching on with a disapproving gleam in her eye. whenever the siblings get together, however, they always manage to turn on an old, favorite game of theirs, and the competition is always heated

in high school, marco smoked a lot of weed. he would always be seen outside at any high school party, smoking by himself or with a group of other people. however, after graduating, marco switched to cigarettes. he smokes frequently, but will furiously deny being addicted if approached about it

marco plays as waluigi when he plays mario kart/party

marco has a slight boston accent

marco is a night person. he utterly hates getting up early in the morning, but staying up late comes easy and natural to him.

marco recycles religiously. if something is recyclable and you don’t put it into the recycling bin, he’ll lose a bit of respect for you as a person

marco absolutely loves space and the universe and stargazing (part of his appreciation for nighttime), but he also wholeheartedly believes that aliens are real, no doubt about it.

wanted connections

his debate partner from high school 

romantic connections (male or female or nb!!)

exes w/ lingering feelings

exes who ended on good terms

the person who took his virginity l m a o

that person that he’s been pining after since freshman year in high school who he just wants to get w/ but has convinced himself he cannot

neighbors when they were growing up

current roommate

that friend that u always compete with and like ur friends w/ them still, u are, but also u always want to brag about how great ur doing

someone who confides in him who he rarely confides back to

u KNOW they probably made a band in high school

people he went to college with

anything ur heart desires!!