#he left about an hour ago to go get it [several hours after we'd planned]

[2theburgs]

Well, we made it to Grand Cayman without any hiccups. Naturally, or rather, unnaturally, traffic to Toronto was heavy, but at least kept moving. A non event getting through terminal 3 at Pearson as we boarded the plane as "Zone Niners" (Westjet's ultrabasic boarding zone). Essentially you get called after zone 1-4. That's right. There's no zone 5, 6, 7, or 8...but there is a zone 9 and it's for people like Ken and I, who don't care to board the plane first and don't care if we sit at the back of the plane, though I must admit it was like standing in the line of shame as you waited until every single other passenger boarded...like "ha! You there will stand in that line while everyone observes and is made aware of how cheap you are!" The one gamble is that they tell you you may not be seated with your group, but we've flown enough times that if we weren't together it wouldn't be the end of the world. Much to our surprise, the plane was half full anyway, so we had a row to ourselves. We settled in, I with my new "tablet holderz" which by the way, is a tremendous invention that allows you watch your tablet attached to the magazine pocket. Goodbye neck strain. I opted for several episodes of The Chosen, thankful for my N95 that soped up most of the tears with few other passengers the wiser.

Before we knew it, we landed. One step off of the plane and into the heat, humidity and sun and I took a giant inhale of the Oceanic fresh air. Oh Carribean, it's been too long. Far too long. There's something about the air here, the sun, the salt. It's life giving particularly when four hours ago you were in the dry, dark, grey winter that was becoming increasingly cold: -20 when we left that morning. My heart is full and I give thanks to God for creating the Carribean and for the means and the health to come here. The older I get, the more these beautiful places remind me that this is a gift. One that can be gone at any moment.

Bit of a line for customs but we got through and picked up our tiny little rental car. Driver side on the right.

Priority one was lunch. I had downloaded the offline maps, so scanned for restaurants and found one not far off with good reviews. As soon as we walked in, I knew we were a) underdressed (as I scanned the room only to see people who were dressed in what I can only assume is ? Yacht attire..) and b) that this was going to cost a lot more than we were planning to spend on a "quick lunch" post flight. Whatever, we are on vacation and this place was totally worth it. Our server (who I think was maybe the owner) brought us fresh bread, pita chips and the best hummus we'd ever had. Ken had chicken Momo's and I had a big ol' burger and fries which was insanely good. Ken ate half and I had a couple of his Momos which were also awesome.

Ken got us to the air BNB without issue, he's quite good at driving on the left! We snuck in a quick visit to the beach, called Smith's Barcadere to catch the sunset and then went to pick up groceries for the week. Hello $10 bottle of ketchup.

Neither of us were very hungry, so it was toast and an apple for dinner. I went to bed, happy, but nervous. I knew tomorrow meant diving, and ever since my dive scare in 2016, I've struggled almost every dive. I'll randomly get hit with a sudden sense of panicky claustrophobia. Not to mention our last dives were almost 3 years ago in Grand Turk. Fortunately, anxiety and panic attacks are familiar friends. You know, the kind of friends you keep trying to create "healthy distance" with and some boundaries since they're kind of crappy friends. Regardless, they are "friends" nonetheless, and since I know them well, I am well practiced at dealing with their random, abborhent, and unwanted visits. So, dive I shall. Fun adventures often require an element of risk, and fear is conquered by repetition of that which you fear until you rewrite those little neuronal pathways...and of course with a ton of prayer.

Xoxo,

K

[romanoffsbish]

Chapter 39: Never Got The Chance

Chapter 38 | Masterlist | Chapter 40 |Words: 914

—

Nat’s POV

We'd made it back to the compound, with a lot of people trying to get in touch, something about,

"Why'd you leave us stranded?"

Boohoo, woah is me, type of shit, couldn't care less at the moment. As if there aren't ships they could borrow back on Wakanda.

As we walk in we're dead set on using the Stark technology to find Thanos, so we can ambush him. Thor, Wanda, and I will make him wish he was never fucking brought into existence .

"Friday, who's here?" I ask, as I enter the building to find we're not alone.

"It appears Mr. Banner ran in with Mr. Stark's unconscious body about an hour ago. He had a penetrating trauma to the abdomen, and Cho is taking care of it now."

Great, Banner's back, and Tony's hurt, my day couldn't get any worse.

Then my heart constricts... Morgan

I pull Wanda's frozen form along with me towards the medbay while making a phone call.

"Natasha? Thank God you're okay, I can't get ahold of Tony, and Y/N's not answering... What's happening?"

At the sound of her name, my heart skips a beat, but quickly stills once more...  By the sound of Pepper's tone, it's not frantic enough for Morgan to have faded out..

"Pepper, is Morgan okay?!" I ask anyways, wanting the actual confirmation.

"Yes, she's napping on the couch, cuddling that plushy dog Y/N gave her, she wouldn't calm down after we left earlier until I got it for her. Wait, why wouldn't she be?"

It's almost as if Morgan knew deep down, they've always said kids are insanely intuitive...

"Look, Pepper, I don't know how this even works, but the big bad guy won, and he somehow dusted half of all populations out of existence... Y/N didn't make it..." I explain, my voice breaking in the end, as I hadn't actually said it aloud just yet.

"Tony?" She shakily whispers in question.

"I wasn't with him, it seems his end lost too, and he's in the medbay currently."

"How do we tell her?"

"We don't, not now anyways, all we can do is keep her memory alive until I'm able to fix this, and I promise you I won't stop until it's fixed."

Pepper brokenly hums into the phone, then I bid her farewell, and enter into the medbay.

Tony's hooked up to IV's, while Bruce and Cho are standing by going over his vitals.

Bruce turns in our direction, with a relieved smile on his face, as he makes his way over to pull us into a group hug.

"Don't touch me." I growl, while I see Wanda's hand surround with red mist.

"I'm sorry, truly, I was blinded by a lot..." Bruce solemnly states.

"Well, until you can apologize to Y/N, I choose not to forgive you." I reply, pushing passed him to get to Tony's side.

"Stark! Wake your ass up, we have work to do." I shout, while slapping at his temple with my fingertips.

"Natasha, he's been through a lot." Bruce tries to approach me, but I simply widow bite him, and Wanda lightly tosses him to the side.

"Am I missing something here? I thought you guys were a team?" Cho confusedly murmurs, while lightening Tony's sedation.

"That's hilarious, Cho. He treated Y/N like she was a low class citizen, all in the name of brotherhood and unrequited love. Then went missing for two years while he threw his tantrum, so no, he's more like a glorified extra." I laugh out humorlessly

As Cho exits, Tony starts to come around, looking up at us with his loopy gaze.

"He won?" He croaks out  

"Yeah, but not for long if we have anything to do with it.” I command.

"How exactly do you plan to defeat him with even less people? That's a suicide mission Romanoff." He scoffs

"He left severely hurt, and no one requires you there with us Tony, just your help to find him is all." I matter of factly state

He reluctantly agrees, promising that when he's able to get up, he'll get to work in finding the mad titan for us to get Y/N back.

Wanda had fallen asleep in a chair in the medbay, so I wound up carrying her out to my car. I drove us the short route back to our apartment, then carried her upstairs.

Once I'd opened the door my heart stopped, taking in the sight before me. The table was decked out, with flowers and perfectly placed decorations. Officially reminded of what my plans for today actually were...

We were meant to spend the day with Morgan making up for her missed birthday, then return home where I'd surprise her with our makeup anniversary since we'd been on the mission for that as well.

The ring in my pressed suit pocket, that I've had since month one, suddenly feels a lot heavier. I finally had the plans in place to ask her to marry me. After our dinner, I was going to drive us to our cliff look out, then I was going to drop to one knee.

Now, all I have are these unfinished plans, and I'll be damned if I'm going to just take it sitting down. I'll fight tooth and nail to get the chance to hold her in my arms again, to tell her that I love her, and to finally make her into a Romanoff.

————————————————

Taglist:

@simpforflorencepugh1 @ali-lie

Short, angsty, and kinda bittersweet 🥺

❤️‍🩹Kaitlyn🤪

[jackandclairearesiblings]

SO

STORYTIME

Everyone always talks about how the pilot starts on Halloween right? Like it's obvious Sam and Jess and friends are celebrating Halloween. And then Dean shows up early the next morning and they're gone, only to return on the 2nd when Jess dies right?

This has always bothered me and Im about to tell you why that's WRONG.

"But E, Jess dies on the 2nd. It's in the show." I KNOW JUST HEAR ME OUT DON'T POST THE PIC OF HER HEADSTONE SHH

I did research.

BANG BANG BANGITY BANG

According to this calendar, Halloween 2005 is on a Monday. Thus the 2nd is that Wednesday. HOWEVER Sam argues "I have to be back Monday" which the next Monday isn't even until the 7th.

THUS LAWBOY HAS A WHOLE WEEK

"But E, a hunt can take several days and Sam knows this."

And to that I say RIGHT

IF we go off the vibes of the pilot, its Halloween, then the early hours of the 1st when Dean shows, meaning they solve the mystery of the woman in white IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS so Sam can be back sometime on the evening of the 2nd

Those boys are good but they aint that good

PLUS we see in the pilot the passage of multiple days and nights (and logistically you add up the car ride, and the night on the bridge, and then finding the hotel, and interrogating, and getting arrested, and getting held hostage by a ghost another night, and then the drive back... Like it adds up FAST and definitely a lot longer than it is made to seem)

WHICH BRINGS ME BACK TO MY FINDINGS HERE

I propose that yes, the pilot starts on Monday October 31st. We can all agree on that. (See red square)

I THEN propose Dean actually shows up the early morning of the 2nd AND NOT the 1st because Sam and Jess are clearly sober and not half drunk as if they weren't just throwing back shots a couple hours ago. (See green box) NOTE: WE WILL COME BACK TO THIS

Sam says he has to be back Monday November 7th thus Dean whatever you about to drag your brother on it cannot be too long of an adventure.

This then gives our boys about 2, maaaaaaybe 3 days at the most on this hunt, which does make sense timeline wise. (See blue boxes)

And thus concluding that Sam returns that weekend on either the 5th or the 6th

BUT WAIT

E

DID YOU JUST SAY...

THE 5TH??? OF NOVEMBER???

yes.

yes i did.

do with that information what you will.

REMEMBER THAT NOTE I TOLD YOU WE'D COME BACK TO???

It has been said that Jess was dead the moment Sam left that apartment to go with Dean. Thus if Dean showed up on the 2nd, and the boys left on the 2nd, we don't know what happened afterwards. Jess could have been killed on the 2nd and then left on the ceiling for DAYS until Sam came home and the rest of the plan fell into place. Maybe the demon was hanging around the apartment, staging things, manipulating Sam, who knows. But let's say Jess died on the 2nd after the boys left, the coroner would have noted that when they examined her body THEREFORE BAM that's how Jess died on the 2nd and Sam didn't know about it until he returned home that following weekend and found her.

"But E, we don't know FOR SURE that it was actually Halloween night. Maybe everyone was celebrating a couple days leading up to Halloween and Sam really did come back home on the 2nd."

*sigh*

Okay. Devil's advocate.

Let's say they're partying the weekend before Halloween, thus allowing all the timeline to play out and make sense for Sam to come back on the 2nd.

Halloween is a Monday.

Sam has to be back on Monday.

The 2nd is a Wednesday.

If the pilot happens BEFORE Halloween and Sam's meeting is ON MONDAY aka Halloween, and he returns ON THE 2ND aka Wednesday...

He's hella late for his meeting

No law school for Sammy

I rest my case.

[kenobi-gen-exchange]

OBI-WAN KENOBI GENFIC EXCHANGE 2020 MASTERPOST

Hello there!

Thank you to everyone who participated last year in 2020! As we begin our newest year, we'd like to showcase all the wonderful works made in 2020 for our exchange!

They're ordered alphabetically below the cut, and you can view our 2019 masterlist as well here.

Acts of Service by Shadaras

Summary: Obi-Wan answers the encoded comm he'd given to the Organas years ago. Leia's on the other end, and she has a request.

All we are, and all we have... by TexasDreamer01

Summary: Maul inhaled.

This was unusual, given his certainty that this time he had died.

And If You Close Your Eyes by Be_Right_Back

Summary: Does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all?

Rex finds out from Ezra that Obi-Wan is on Tatooine. He has go to see for himself.

a worthwhile endeavour by wrennette

Summary: They were currently at nearly 36 hours since Obi-Wan last slept, which meant that tonight, they'd be breaking out the big guns. Ahsoka knew the routine by now, the major points practiced enough that she could improvise a little to keep her Master from catching on.

Co-Commanders Tano and Cody have a plan.

Ben the Spy by AsadHermitStory

Summary: “Are you a spy?” FN-2187 asked without preamble. FN-2187 definitely wasn’t a spy, for he was not capable of disguising his eagerness.

“Hmm. Yes, perhaps I am.” The man stroked his bearded chin thoughtfully. “From a certain point of view. You can call me ‘Ben,’ by the way.”

braids by shanlyrical

Obi-Wan took another deep breath, opened his eyes, and met his own steady gaze in the mirror. Then, with a single, swift cut, he severed his own Padawan braid.

“Master Obi-Wan, what are you doing?”

It was Anakin. Obi-Wan had been so focused on his task that he’d failed to hear to the boy slip through the door behind him.

Cracks in the Mortar by sigye

Summary: He knows Kenobi well enough now; asking something like that would normally get him a dry, amused reply. Fox can even admit that he’s one of the most pleasant natborns he sees on a regular basis, though that’s not saying much considering the Coruscant Guard works out of the Senate building.

(Prompt: Obi-Wan and Fox complaining about Senators together and supporting each other in their 'serious' selves.)

Familes Found by fyrefly

Summary: Written as part of the 2020 Obi-Wan Kenobi Gen Exchange. In a universe where "The Wrong Jedi" never happened, the war ends under different circumstances and perhaps everyone will get a chance at a happy ending after all.

Prompt: "Ahsoka and Obi-Wan being a happy Jedi family post-war. Other canon Jedi and clone characters are welcome. Basically just some wholesome Jedi culture fluff while Anakin is happily married and no longer a Knight."

Flipped by KCKenobi

Summary: The second-worst day of Anakin Skywalker’s life is about to get infinitely worse.

Palpatine’s a Sith Lord. Master Windu is off to destroy him. And Padmé, Padmé —

But then Cody arrives with a de-aged Obi-Wan—a terrified 12-year-old whose last memory is being sent to the AgriCorps. Anakin doesn’t know what to make of this little kid who claims to be Obi-Wan Kenobi, who steals speeders for joyrides and isn’t being trained by Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to make of this strange Master Skywalker, who swears and gushes about starships and can’t seem to sit still.

Anakin knows a lot can happen in 24 hours—but this is just a new level of ridiculous.

i guess this could be worse by apricae

Summary: It wasn't the rescue Obi-Wan had expected when he was caught by some pretty mean-spirited pirates - at all. But perhaps it's not so bad after all.

In Disguise of a Sport by TexasDreamer01

Summary: Fox wasn’t sure whether to stare or to sigh.

Just a twist in your destiny by lunaemoth

Summary: When Obi-Wan is sent to the Agricorps as a teenager, it feels like the end, but it's a just a different path, a little twist of destiny. Ultimately, he still ends up on Tatooine when he's needed, as the Force wishes it.

Mission One by LazarusII

Summary: “No, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, voice slightly hoarse. “You are most certainly not expendable—none of you are. Not to me.”

Old Wounds by KCKenobi

Summary: Mace Windu always agreed that Obi-Wan Kenobi was meant to be a Jedi Knight. However, he didn't share Yoda's certainty that the boy was meant to be Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan. When Qui-Gon returns from Melida/Daan without Obi-Wan, Mace takes matters into his own hands and sets off for Melida/Daan himself.

Petrichor by ginnywrites

Summary: The first thing Obi-Wan does with Anakin, once all of the required things are out of the way, is to take him to the meditation gardens.

Pictures in the Sand by MaiKusakabe

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi could never be too grateful for his too stubborn Padawan and her insistence to be part of his life.

Recovery by Pandora151

Summary: All that mattered was this—Obi-Wan was home. It would take him time to find himself again, to recover completely, but his family was by his side, and that was all that mattered.

return home (to me) by skatzaa

Summary: He feels alone and exposed without someone to watch his back as he and his eopie amble across the sands. The swaying gait is not enough to lull him, but as the domed homestead draws closer, he allows himself to relax slightly.

They slow as they enter the open yard, and then a shout nearby nearly startles him out of the saddle.

“Uncle Ben! You’re back!”

Safety is Our Priority by coruscantguard (nadiavandyne)

Summary: As irritating and infuriating as it is, Kenobi is her best chance at getting off this hellhole without calling her Master’s attention to her… delay.

It’s not a failure, it’s a delay. Maybe if she says that to herself enough, it will become true.

(Or, 3k words of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Asajj Ventress going through space TSA.)

Seventy-two varieties of root vegetable and other tasty things to discover (now that the Sith are dead) by Gabriel4Sam

Summary: After the war, Obi-Wan finds joy in family, friends and food.

That Business on Cato Neimoidia by kj_feybarn

Summary: “All right. But you owe me… and not for saving your skin for the tenth time.”

“Ninth time… that business on Cato Neimoidia doesn’t... doesn't count.”

- Revenge of the Sith

—

Year 2 of the Clone Wars on Cato Neimoidia:

“Skyguy! Master Obi-Wan has been captured!”

Anakin found himself freezing, for just a moment, as Ahsoka skidded to a stop beside him, his heart racing as his mind immediately came up with a dozen different ways Obi-Wan might be getting hurt or killed at that very moment.

He pushed the fear down. It would not help him right now, and it certainly wouldn’t help Obi-Wan. He had to save his Master.

.

.

.

Year 2 of the Clone Wars ALSO on Cato Neimoidia:

“Well, this is slightly problematic,” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but note.

Beside him, his Commander let out an exasperated sigh. “I suppose problematic is one word for it. Not the one I would have chosen.”

Obi-Wan sent Cody what he hoped was a cheeky grin—though the bloody nose and black eye probably ruined it. “Oh, and what word would you have chosen, Cody?”

“I think this is somewhat closer to downright disastrous, General.”

Turn Left by MaiKusakabe

Summary: In which Obi-Wan can't have a simple mission, and the Force circumvents the Sith's clouding.

Again, thank you to everyone who participated, and we look forward to 2021!

[mercenarypark]

my stepfather and i were supposed to start loading shit in the u-haul at 1 its 3:30 and we dont even have the u-haul yet hdkghjh

[thejoshuaglenn-blog]

You're a Good Boy, Charlie Brown

The key purpose of a Tumblr blog here is really a brain dump: logging thoughts, feelings, narrative and such is easier in long form than via a brief Facebook post that generates half a dozen "oh no, what happened" comments. As I'm writing this, most of it seems like bullet points and organized timelines. If you're looking for a TL;DR or current state of thoughts, it's the last section titled The Day After, and the Day After That.

A few days ago, Niko and I said goodbye to our first dog, Charlie Brown.

I'm not keen to chat about it a lot. There's more to process than I have time to type; most of it centers around being fair to myself and to Niko, taking the time to appreciate his life without beating ourselves up, and avoiding the overwhelming mire that grief can become.

Joining the Family

CB was a rescue, a hapless victim of the 2016 Louisiana floods and a happy-go-lucky participant in a "dog for a day" event hosted by a local shelter. I fully expected to rent him out for a day, give him a few great experiences, and return him. For myriad reasons, we never did bring him back to Pet Rescue by Judy, and he's been with us ever since.

At adoption, he was estimated to be around 4-8 years old. With a kicked-in shoulder that offset his collarbone and ribcage, some assorted dental issues, and other little signs of damage (cigarette burns, what the heck is wrong with people), it was tough to really gauge his age. That means he left this world at the ripe old age of something like 9-13, which isn't terrible considering all he'd been through.

Charlie Brown was the iconic good boy. He seldom barked, he never licked or jumped, and just wanted to be in the same room as his favorite people. He had a few toys that he cherished, never ripping them up, just carrying them with him from room to room and whining a bit, unsure of where he could store them for safekeeping. Apart from some separation anxiety issues and an occasional urge to bolt out the door and book it as far as he could, CB was by all accounts an easy first dog: more like a low-effort cat than anything else.

Slowly Falling Apart

Over time, the health issues increased. Intermittent but predictably regular upset tummy. Bad gums, bad teeth. Random gooey skin lesion. Eye ulcers. Since October, we've been averaging 2-3 unplanned vet visits a month — many incurring some hefty bills. We'd take out another credit card, find another financing plan, but it adds up. So does the emotional toil on the family; so does the anxiety toll on the dog.

You start to think about quality of life for the dog, you know? He'd had a few teeth removed to sew up his gums after they kinda detached and fell apart from his jawbone — so he couldn't chew anything hard. Couldn't even chew a tennis ball, which was the only toy he took interest in anymore. Couldn't have any fun treats like peanut butter or other soft chews, as his tummy would have bad flare-ups that usually ended up with him attached to an IV bag. After finally settling in and learning to play well with Atlas, Charlie Brown started to get pretty irritable whenever Atlas got frisky.

He still loved running around outdoors, and was in otherwise great health.

I can't tell you how guilty that makes me feel, even now.

Moving to Waltham

Before we left Orlando, there were so many crisis moments in emergency vet offices where Niko and I talked about how long he could ride this roller coaster. CB obviously was not a fan of vet visits: loved the staff, but was notably anxious and panicky when separated from us, and he had grown very loathe to the process of poking, prodding, and whatnot.

Shortly after moving to Waltham (he was a champ in the U-Haul), Charlie Brown had a severe colitis flare-up. He was losing so much fluid and was growing very lethargic over the day. Vets are hard to get into these days: with the sweep of "pandemic puppy" adoptions, the vet industry as a whole is saturated with demand, and practices are responding as best they can. There were just no emergency clinics available to us within 20 miles, except one that noted "we have no availability, but you can come and wait, and we might be able to see you in 4 or 5 hours." So we did.

It was a very late night. Charlie Brown came home with us with another round of the same antibiotics he'd been taking almost regularly since December for his assorted ailments, and some probiotics. The next day, CB seemed a bit better and brighter, and Niko and I went into the city for part of the day. We came home to find he'd had an accident, but it was just... blood. So so much. And he looked so in pain, so ashamed, so guilty, so anxious.

So we went back to the vet ER. It was another very late night. I didn't know how many of these late nights we could afford; neither of us knew how many of these late nights it was fair to expect Charlie Brown to endure.

Do you plan on letting a pet go after an extended crisis visit? Do you plan on letting a pet go in a time of relative peace?

Camping Analogy, and a Best Last Day

When you're off on a long hike, and you see daylight start to fade as the sun begins to set, you begin to think about finding a good place to set up camp for the night. It's abysmal to do this after the sun has already gone down: where you could have had preparation and structure, you have chaos by flashlight.

A dog's life is in your hands. You're his whole world: all food, adventure, pampering, challenge, treatment, and care come from you. More than anything, we wanted Charlie Brown to have a peaceful, restful life. Now that we started thinking about it, we wanted to be able to give him a peaceful, restful passing as well: not as the climax of another overnight crisis with injections and yelps and beeps and cowering and anxiety and fear, but in the still quiet of familiar sounds and smells.

His very last day was a great one. Fresh Pond in Cambridge: a massive stroll around a colossal lake with an absurd bounty of new smells, kind people, happy dogs, and a brisk New England breeze. He got to swim in a little side pond — that boy lived for jumping into random lakes. He ran around the broad field that is Kingsley Bowl, chasing a thrown ball the very very farthest his sad pop could throw it — and he brought it back. We bought him a steak. We told him how much he brought to our lives.

And then we waited.

Lap of Love is a sort of home delivery service of dignified passing for pets. There's more to say on that hour than I care to pen, but throughout the procedure, we never left him. Charlie Brown passed enveloped in our arms and laps and sobs and hugs.

The Day After, and the Day After That

The rest is just thoughts. Your head starts to feel like a coffee shop where your grief comes in, sits at a table with you, and unloads. You nod, listen, and wish them well. I hope I can keep processing this way — I find it helpful, and less overwhelming.

I wish he had been able to play with his tennis ball more. Since his jaw surgery — even out on Kingsley Bowl, nearly a month and a half after he should have been fully healed — any kind of chewing would cause renewed bleeding and pain.

I wish we had hugged him more. But truth be told, he didn't like hugs. They made him uncomfortable. So we gave him a hand to lay his head on, or a knee for him to pop his head upon, as often as he liked.

There were so many times I felt inconvenienced by owning a dog at all. They weren't the majority, but... now each remembered time feels like a splinter of selfishness.

I miss how familiar the back of his neck felt under my hand, just behind the ears, where the waves of fur meet and crash and make a long cowlick of foof and fluff.

His happy smile and his stressed smile were very similar, but you could still tell which was which.

I loved being there for him in thunderstorms.

When you think about it, we sort of were hospice care for him. We weren't his original owners; we just wanted the rest of his life to be painless and fulfilling. He had so many trust issues when he first came to us. And in the end, he loved anyone he met.

I miss feeling around with my feet to make sure I don't step on him on my way to bed. I miss setting my feet on the floor as I wake, stooping down, and giving his head a good squishy rub.

He never did get to see Boston snow. I mean... thousands of dogs never get to see snow. But I was really looking forward to sharing that experience with him.

I wanted so badly to bring him to a point of health, and then say goodbye when he was feeling well. Seeing him have his Best Last Day, part of me whispered "murderer" with cold accuracy, and I have a hard time shaking it. He was so happy — but between jaw bleeding after playing with a tennis ball, seeing him scratch his eyes that were starting to ache with ulcers again... I know the unbridled happiness came with the reality of his declining health.

Atlas was the best thing that ever happened to that boy. I know Charlie Brown was at least a little disgruntled that his easy-going day-to-day had been interrupted by a chompy puppy, but Atlas brought out the young pup in CB: ripping palm fronds to shreds, playing tug, playing tag, meeting new dogs with confidence and assurance.

I used to get so mad at my mother-in-law for feeding Charlie Brown cinnamon donuts. I wish I'd given him more. Heck, I wish I'd given him more peanut butter. I'm frankly surprised he hadn't died of peanut butter overdose years ago.

Where Charlie's health had limits, we kept going with Atlas. That might mean taking Atlas out to play with a ball or a tug toy, because CB couldn't. It breaks my heart now to think of Charlie at the glass door just watching it happen, all because he physically couldn't play the same. I know he didn't understand that.

We took him out to Park Ave maybe once or twice. I wish it had been more. Truth be told, it was the same as the dog park, though: he was kind of a loner. Loads of people or dogs made him anxious. So while I might idealize the past and wish he had sat at our legs for lunch after lunch at an outdoor thoroughfare, ... I think he would have been miserable. I think he would have rather just curled up at the base of the couch and dozed while we watched a show.

He was so trusting. I could just drag him onto his back and onto my lap for cuddles and a good tummy rub. No complaints.

He looked so gaunt these past few months. I keep looking at earlier photos, and I really didn't realize just how grizzly and drawn he had become lately.

I miss seeing him randomly waiting for me outside the bathroom door — or curled up on the bath mat while I was in the shower, having sneakily nosed the door open and wanting my company while I was rinsing.

For his first few years with us, he was incredibly playful. I've been going through old videos — it's like going outside just blew his mind, and toys were either for cherishing daintily, or thrashing about and throwing to oneself and gnawing. He lost that after a time. He regained it a bit when Atlas joined the party. But it still faded. I'm sure that's inevitable, but it makes me sad to see the early vibrant puppy in those old recordings, and how different he had been in recent months.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Untold Future 4

Clarity

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings:  Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Here is a gore free chapter. These will be very few and far between. 

Author’s Note: Yay! It’s Friday and here is another update! This chapter had been partially written well before I even finished Forgotten Alliance. Hell there are several chapters that are partially written. ANYWAYS! I do hope you guys enjoy this one!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

"We should talk about Hope's dreams." Klaus said as he walked into Elijah's room. He had barely taken note that his brother had been preoccupied with what he was currently reading. When he stopped in front of Elijah's bed, he realized what his brother had been doing. "You've found her contract."

Elijah looked up from the paragraph he had been reading. He was trying to read each line carefully, looking for anything and everything that would give him something to work with. But so far there was nothing standing out to him. 

"Only moments ago." Elijah said with a nod. "What did you see in Hope's dreams?" 

Klaus sighed. There was no easy way to tell his brother what he needed to. "Going into her dreams confirmed everything. I watched as my daughter ran into a building looking for her Aunt. When we found her," Klaus shook his head wanting to spare his brother from the details that he had seen. "While I would do anything to help you find away to get Elizabeth back, I'd rather not have my daughter having dreams of her."

Elijah looked off to the side. Part of him hoped that whatever dreams Hope had weren't of reality. That if anything they'd be glimpses of Elizabeth and nothing of the truth that Klaus had seen. After a moment, Elijah nodded. 

"It is what is best for your daughter." He looked over at Klaus. 

Klaus could easily see the hurt in Elijah. May it have been in his words or even the way he looked away to look at nothing in particular. His brother was in pain as well, even if he wasn't physically in pain. And here Klaus was making the decision to cut off the only way that Elijah may get a glimpse of Elizabeth. 

"If there was another way," Klaus shook his head. "I wouldn't be doing this. I fear for what Hope might see."

Elijah's jaw clenched at the words. The words had ignited something with in the bond. While Elizabeth may have closed off her side of things as much as she could, it was still there. Anger pulled through Elijah at the thought of what Klaus must have seen. 

Elijah ran his hand along his chin as he tried to calm the fire that was beginning to rage of control within him. His mate was being tortured and there was nothing he could do to save her. "I'll find another way. It may be time to follow clues elsewhere."

Klaus nodded his head in understanding. He knew that eventually his brother would decide to leave in search for Elizabeth. He just selfishly hoped it wouldn't be just days after they had been reunited. He placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. 

"You do what you need to to ensure Elizabeth's return home." Without another word, Klaus left the room. 

Elijah watched as his brother had walked out of the room before his eyes landed back on the contract in front of him. He lifted the page he had been reading before Klaus had come into the room. "Give me something, Elizabeth." He said to himself as he dived back into the contract. 

Hours had passed since Klaus had left the room and Elijah hadn't stopped going over the contract. Scattered beside him were the several pages that made up the contract. His eyes must have scanned the words repeatedly, looking for something, anything that would help him find Elizabeth. But Elizabeth had thought of everything. Every single detail Elijah believed would help in some way was mentioned in the contract. 

"That doesn't look like light reading." Rebekah said as she leaned against Elijah's door frame. "And by the looks of it you haven't slept a wink."

"How can one sleep while going through Elizabeth's contract?" Elijah asked as he never took his eyes off of the paper her was currently holding in his hand. 

Rebekah sighed as she entered his room. "By how intensely you are looking at it, am I right to assume there are no loopholes?" She asked as she sat the edge of the bed and picked up one of the pages. 

Elijah shook his head. "She thought of everything." He placed the page down and picked up another. "Every possible reason to ensure this deal would be made."

"That would explain why the witch can't tell us anything." She said shaking her head. "Can't Freya remove the compulsion from her?"

Reaching over, Elijah picked up another sheet before handing it to Rebekah. "We try anything and Jess will take her own life. Ask the wrong question and Jess will warn us."

Rebekah stared at Elijah in disbelief before she quickly read over the page. "Elizabeth all but insured her death at even the slightest mention of the spell tied to Elizabeth's humanity. What the bloody hell was she thinking when she wrote this?"

"My cure." Elijah said softly as he placed the last page down. "She included each of us in some form to ensure that she wouldn't back out from this. Malakai and Kol would become Jax's if she so much as hesitated to uphold this contract. We were to be left alone completely once she handed herself over."

Rebekah shook her head once more. "Hayley is going to be upset to know that we were all in there, including Hope."

"Hope isn't-" Elijah stopped himself for a moment as realization him. Elizabeth would never put Hope in harms way. Even if it was a way to ensure she'd go through with her plan. 

"Isn't what?" She asked looking at her brother confused. 

Without saying a word, Elijah stood from his spot and quickly made his way out of the room. An eyebrow raised on Rebekah's face as he did. Standing she followed her brother out of the room, hoping to get an answer. She followed all the way to Freya's room. 

Freya had been pouring over the spell book once more when her siblings had come rushing into her room. "Is everything okay?" 

She noticed how frantic Elijah looked in that moment. She could also tell he hadn't gotten any sleep since he had woken from his nightmare. Her eyes looked over at Rebekah who shrugged her shoulders. 

"Please tell me you haven't found or done the spell to keep Hope from Visitng Elizabeth." That had probably been the fast words had ever left his mouth.

"I haven't yet." Freya said as she looked between the two. "It needs to be done right before she goes to bed tonight. What's going on?"

Elijah took a seat across from her. "Elizabeth said she never intended for Hope to see her that way." Elijah began. "That to me means she had some intention for Hope to in fact see her."

"But doesn't that go against the rules Elizabeth spoke about?" Freya asked with a raised brow. 

"I was able to find the location of the contract. I've read every word of that document at least a dozen times. Not once was there a mention of the necklaces or even Hope. There was no mention of her interfering in any way. We were all mentioned expect for our niece." There was a slight excitement in his voice that his sisters could easily pick up on. 

"Hope is the loophole to the contract." Rebekah said looking at Elijah, finally realizing what he had.

"But how does this work when Elizabeth doesn't have the charm with her?" Freya asked holding Elizabeth's up.

"Maybe one-sided is all we need." Elijah said hopeful. "If Hope can open doors and at least look out windows, she may just be able to give us the insight we need. Even if I entered her dreams, this would give us the advantage Jax won't see coming."

Rebekah sighed. "Before we get too excited about this, need I remind you that there is still her parents we need to talk to about this?" She bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. "There is also something Veronica said that we might have to take into consideration."

"I'm sure we'd be able to convince Klaus and Hayley of this plan. She'd always have me or her parents to keep her from seeing things she shouldn't. And if this is what Elizabeth wanted to, they have to take that into consideration." Elijah said as he looked at Rebekah. "As for what you've overheard Veronica say is something that you should enlighten us on."

Rebekah braced herself for this one. She was hoping that she wouldn't have to tell Elijah and it would come from Veronica herself. "I overheard her tell Malakai that Elizabeth is going to be gone for three years.”

Elijah’s face fell at Rebekah’s words. “And how did she learn of this?”

“The letter Elizabeth wrote her,” Rebekah began. “Elizabeth told her that for three years she’d have to keep Malakai in check.”

Elijah shook his head. After the hope and excitement of possibly finding a way to save Elizabeth, it was shot down by the simple fact of time. “Where is Veronica now?”

“Out with Vincent.” Freya said with a nod. “She needed time away from the compound.”

Elijah stood from his seat. “When she returns, please ask her if I can borrow the letter for a few moments.”

“What are you going to do?” Freya asked as he began walking out of the room. 

“Freshen up a bit.” He said looking over his shoulder. “Then I’m going to see this warehouse Elizabeth used. Perhaps by the time I return, I’ll have some more information.”

_____

Elizabeth sat in the corner of her cell. Her back leaning right into the edge of it. Her eyes wandered around the cell and even past the cell door. Every detail of it her eyes had taken it in.

While she looked like a mess in that moment, she was healed. Maybe not back to her usual strength thanks to the lack of blood consumption, but she looked better than she had hours ago. Dirt caked her skin along with blood and sweat. How she would just enjoy a shower in that moment.

As her thoughts lingered on the thought of being cleaned, she picked up on the soft footsteps that approached her. Her eyebrow rose as she took the sound in. They were familiar to her ears and it almost caused a smirk to pull at her lips.

She hadn't moved from her spot even as they had come closer to her cell. Over the last several days, this is what she had been looking forward to. It wasn't the moments where she was being tortured or the fact that she had seen familiar faces while being tormented. It was this very vision that Jess had given her on her last day in New Orleans that she had been clinging on to that told her she was on the right track.

"Aunt Liz?" Hope's voice called out the moment her footsteps stopped a few feet away from her cell.

"One more down, kid." Elizabeth said without moving from her spot.

The moment Hope stepped in front of the cell, her eyes widened. She could see how differently her Aunt looked. May it have been the lack of blood or the fact she'd been tormented the last several days, this was the first time Hope actually saw her face.

Hope walked over to the bars and instantly walked through them. At first it startled her until she realized it wasn't a bad thing. She ran over to Elizabeth's side. But the moment she reached Elizabeth and tried to hug her, Hope couldn't feel her.

"It's not going to work that way." Elizabeth said as she watched her. "Don't have the necklace with me."

"How can I help?" Hope asked as she stepped back and sat down on the ground next to Elizabeth.

"You already are Hope." She said with a nod. "It's still early. I'm assuming you haven't woken up yet."

Hope shook her head. "I couldn't sleep last night."

"You were smart to bring your dad last night." Elizabeth offered as she adjusted herself in her spot.

"Dad didn't want Uncle Elijah to see you." She said with a nod of her head.

Elizabeth's eyes met Hopes. She could see the worry in the girls eyes. "Yeah, I don't know how well your Uncle would have taken seeing me like that. He's angry right now."

"How come you can feel his emotions, but Uncle Elijah doesnt?" Hope asked.

Elizabeth huffed a laugh. "Their clouded. I've got vervain, wolvesbane, and even good ol' human sedatives running through my veins half the time. The other half, it's Jess' spell. He doesn't need to feel what I'm feeling."

Hope looked around the cell. "Why did you leave us?"

"Even vampires keep their word." Elizabeth shrugged. "I made a deal with someone to get your Uncles cures for my bite. Now I have to keep my end of the deal."

"Can't you escape?" Hope wanted to find out as much as possible. She wasn't sure when she'd wake up or when they'd come and drag Elizabeth out of the room.

"That's against the rules, Hope. Plus, I'm too weak to make an escape right now. I need a lot more blood than what they are giving me." Elizabeth's mouth watered at the thought of blood. The veins under her eyes even made themselves known. The craving of blood was harder now. At Elizabeth's eyes, Hope got up and took a few steps back, causing Elizabeth to laugh. "I can't hurt you when you visit. This is just a dream."

Hope eyed her Aunt for a moment. "Like the spell Freya did."

"Something like that." Elizabeth shrugged. "Anything interesting going on at Home?"

Elizabeth figured if they were going to have these little visits, she'd make the best of them. She wanted to know what was going on just as much as Hope wanted to know where Elizabeth was to help her. There was only so much either of them could do.

"Mom and dad want to have Aunt Freya place a spell on me." She frowned.

"What spell?" Elizabeth asked.

"To stop me from seeing you." At that, Elizabeth sat up.

"Has your Uncle Elijah found the contract?" She shouldn't have asked but she needed to know.

"I don't know." She admitted.

Elizabeth looked up at the ceiling before looking back at Hope. "I'm gonna need you to wake up kid." Hope had already started shaking her head, but Elizabeth continued. "This is how you are going to help me. You're going to wake up and when you do, you are going to find your Aunt and tell her I said not to sever the link."

"What happens if they sever it?" Hope's eyes widened.

"I lose my loophole."

As a reminder, the normal Always and Forever, Stag Tag, and The Originals Tag lists do not apply to this one. If you would like to be added to the list, don’t hesitate to ask!

Untold Future:

@alka16555​​ @chiefdirector​​​ @winchestert101​​ @ministark​​ @mschellehitt​​ @xanderling​ @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived​

[nicaraguamissionstories]

ONE  YEAR  LATER . . .

Turbulent waters and restless clouds…but the Sun still beacons onward.

Wednesday, April 10th 2019

To apologize for this lapse of time since I last communicated seems so preposterous. How do I explain a year’s absence? Despite the absurdity of it, I am picking up what is left of my dignity and writing to you once again.

When last we met, I was in a whirlwind after political unrest here in Nicaragua created a deep vacuum in which many of us fell into. In the middle of the attempt to overthrow the government, I tried to stick it out in La Cruz as long as I could, visiting 8 more communities. But with all the road blocks in the country, we were unable to receive any provisions in La Cruz. Soon there was no corn or rice or beans. I had friends who arranged for my transportation back to Estelí the end of May.  It was a harrowing experience sitting at roadblocks for hours or trying to cross on foot to the other side where I waited several hours for a different transportation.

Crossing the road block on foot in Rio Blanco where tires have been burned in the road. Graffiti on the side of the parked truck says “To Hell with Daniel”, referring to the president of Nicaragua.

By the end of May I was back in Estelí by way of back roads and remote routes. The problem once I arrived is that we were prohibited from traveling because of the road blocks and the fact that things were very unsafe. There were more food resources in Estelí but they were quickly evaporating without any new trucks allowed to enter. The trucks with food were detained at the road blocks only to lose all their produce and other perishable products. In the community where I live (only a mile from the south road block) we heard the gun fire back and forth all day and night, and then heard the daily reports of cocktail bombs, captures and killings the following day. All we could do was stay in our homes and venture out quickly in the morning to look for food. All foreigners evacuated immediately. All I could think was – how convenient to have that as an option when those who live on the margins don’t have such solutions.

I guess I became numb to a certain degree. Just going through daily survival and not feeling capable of even updating the Blog. I was thinking in circles and wondering if the end of the road had finally come for me here in Nicaragua. Our phone signal was limited and I didn’t have the speed to upload pictures to the Blog so I continued to fall further and further behind. Not to mention feeling useless as time marched on and this BIG work was still unfinished.

Finally in late November (six months ago) things felt stable enough to return to the coast and wrap up the final three community visits. Riding a wave of depression and discouragement, I picked myself up again and gave it another try, visiting the Miskito communities of Kara and Sandy Bay. Father Tomas, Sister Lydia and my faithful friend Vicente accompanied me there.

On our way to Kara, we ran out of oil for the motor. We waited at the side of the riverbank (our arms wrapped around a tree truck to keep from floating onward) for two and a half hours in our panga until finally we were rescued by one of the boats coming from Bluefields who sold us some oil.

This Indigenous community in Kara was so impressive to me. They received us with such warmth and love. The mass was celebrated in Spanish, Miskito and even a little English.

We had an ultimate Closing Mass after the visit to Kara in La Cruz, but it felt anti climatic after the expectations I created around the work at the beginning of April. Once again I left for Estelí feeling discouraged and aimless now that I had finally finished the visits.

Returning in December I avoided working on the Blog and anything related to the work on the book. Instead I buried myself in other projects – a scholarship group retreat, a visit from the cardiologists from North Carolina and other work that trickled in. The months clicked by and I continued to procrastinate. I had come to a crossroads of “Now What?” and had no idea how to move forward. So why bother with the finishing pieces if I didn’t know how to proceed afterwards? I knew I was in trouble when those who had provided the grant to do the work began asking where my final report was. I didn’t know how to explain how lost I was or how the ball had rolled out of control. All my momentum was gone. I cried out to Teddy blaming him for having chosen a person so inadequate to face such a grand feat.

A statue of Father Teddy made by the people. It was created for the local high school named after him in the community of La Cruz.

Over the past four months, people, groups and donors have begun to return to Nicaragua with a tone of dipping their toe in the water to see if things are really as bad as the media reports in the states. Fortunately, the visits have been without disturbance and people have left with a sense of wanting to reconnect with their projects and the people they serve. I suppose that renewed hope has awakened in me too – somewhat – concerning moving forward with this work at hand.

In March I was able to consult with an editor in New Mexico who felt she could guide me to a place of organizing the book. Her name is Carolyn Flynn and I met her through the Living School Program with the Center for Action and Contemplation. Her email to me summed up what she hopes to do: “…we will develop the essence of what makes the book captivating…create a title and subtitle…and organize the structure of the book. To get there, we'd work on chapters and I’ll guide you in seeing where in your writing you have really got everything working, in terms of your voice, your images, the most important spiritual lessons and insights.”  We plan to begin our endeavor in early July. Until then, she sent me “homework” assignments to get me ready for that junction.

Towards that purpose the cost would be $750 which she says will definitely get me on my way. So somehow I will try to raise that amount. Upon the completion of that phase, she will help me evaluate which direction to go and even make some connections with publishers. It is a big project to say the least, but I am willing to make some baby steps toward that end, despite the inadequacy I feel. If you are interested in contributing to this work, you can send your personal check to: Connecticut Quest for Peace, Inc. and on the memo line write “for Monica”. Then send the check to the attention of:

CT Quest for Peace 

Attn:  Jane McCaffrey 

P.O Box 356 

Georgetown, CT  06829

 On Saturday, April 6th I celebrated 56 years of age…now 20 years in Nicaragua. Our political situation remains relatively calm but uncertain. To be honest, I don’t have a sense of my inner barometer about which road I am on. I guess I am like the country right now, relatively calm but uncertain.

A hopeful visit will come in the form of Eileen “Chuckie” Niehaus – Teddy’s “baby sister” (as he once called her) – who will arrive God willing on April 26th. We will make a journey back to Kara to once again reconnect with the Miskito people. It was a plan that she and Teddy had that never was able to be realized. I hope the seed within will once again be watered and fertilized to continue its growth towards the fruition of this project. Your prayers and good wishes – as always – will help that become a reality.

Right now my plan would be to continue with the blog updating monthly with things such as this upcoming trip with Chuckie and other outstanding pieces of homework I still have like visiting one of the priests Teddy formed from La Cruz, Father Flavio. I also want people to be able to track what the experience of writing a book is like (at least from my perspective). So you are welcome to come along for the ride if you still want to take a chance on me!

Thank you for extending your patience to me for the fragility around my edges and for leading with compassion and mercy – since that is what we are all most desperately in need of.  Today it is raining in Estelí for the first time in six months…bringing healing to the plants, the people, the animals and all that is connected in this Divine Dance.

Here I am at 56 headed off to the gym with my friend Sonia. A friend who is real jokster with me asked me how old I was and I told him.  He responded “you don’t look that age”...I thanked him and then he added “YOU LOOK MORE LIKE 65!!”  There always has to be a fool in our midst to keep us on track.

[ottermoone]

Tribute to Gwydion, Cat of cats

I lost my best friend two days ago. His name was Gwydion, and he was a few months shy of 12.

I was there the day he was born, in early 2007, when my neighbor knocked on our door and told us excitedly that her 2 cats were having kittens. I was 11 years old, in the 5th grade.

We hadn't initially expected to adopt a kitten, but the last litter of kittens had included a few white kittens, and my mother wanted another white cat, as we had lost an older white kitty who we'd both been very close to a couple years before. So we headed down and sat with a group of people, and watched the newborn kittens finally nuzzle up to their moms, a black cat named Hemy, and a tortoiseshell named Patches. Patches had a couple white kittens in her litter, and my mother asked the neighbor if we could adopt one of them when they were old enough.

5 or 6 weeks later, my mother came back up to our apartment with a small kitten. He was all white, except for his tail, which was orange and striped. I was told that he was only going to explore our apartment for a little bit before going back downstairs to his mom. I watched him run around excitedly, playing with my two other cats (Hercules and Persephone--both who hissed at him), and we laid out a shoebox filled with litter in case he needed to go, since he was so small we were afraid he'd get stuck in the regular litter box. He eventually used it, and squeezed out the tiniest and stinkiest poo I'd ever seen. I still remember it. My mother eventually took him back down to the neighbors', and a week or 2 later, he came to live with us permanently.

I didn't get to name him--my mother liked to give me the illusion of "choosing a name," which she'd then immediately reject before telling me what we were naming the animal. She initially told me we were going to name him Cernunnos, because she wanted a Celtic name for the cat, because of his coloring (white animals were considered sacred in Celtic mythology, apparently). She eventually rejected that name ("It sounds too much like 'Sir' ... Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad...") and settled on Gwydion instead. It took me a full week before I was able to remember and pronounce his name (Gwid-ee-in).

My mother was an abusive hoarder, and we lived in poverty, so in the apartment we were living in at the time, we slept next to each other on a queen-sized memory foam mattress pad in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by trash and clothes and other junk. So the first night we brought Gwydion home, he did what all kittens do and started pouncing on anything that moved underneath a blanket. Unfortunately, when we tried to sleep, that ended up being our toes. After a half hour of him pouncing on our toes, my mother got impatient and told me to lock him up in another room for the night.

He began crying almost immediately, and when I was sure my mother had fallen asleep (as I knew I'd get in trouble otherwise), I went back in and grabbed him, took him back to the mattress pad with me, and laid him on my chest. I pet him gently and constantly until he fell asleep there, and then finally fell asleep myself. When I woke up the next morning, he was still there, and we were inseparable forever after. Every night after that, he'd come and lay on my neck or my chest, purring and kneading.

Over the next year, he got more orange coloring in his fur, and my mother gave him less attention (I think because he wasn't the pure white cat she had wanted, and also because she was jealous of the bond we shared), until it was plainly obvious that he was my cat.

We both suffered extremely abusive and impoverished conditions together over the years that I won't delve into here. But throughout those years, wherever we were living, and whether he was mainly an indoor or outdoor cat at the time, every night, he'd come to where I was sleeping, cuddle up next to me or on my chest, and stay there until I fell asleep.

For several years, he and my other cat, Hercules, were forced by my mother to be locked in my tiny room, day in and day out, never being allowed out, unless they happened to slip out when the bedroom door opened, and then ran outside (as the front door was almost always open due to broken AC). In those years, he learned what crying meant, and eventually, when I'd start crying, he'd immediately be there, forcing his way into my arms or onto my chest, kneading and purring until I stopped crying and fell asleep.

There was a day where I had basically made up my mind to kill myself. I was almost 13, and had laid in bed all day, from the time I woke up until after night time, with blackout curtains drawn. I hadn't eaten anything, and it felt like time didn't exist. It was the emptiest I can ever remember feeling. I just lay there, feeling nothing. Eventually, after hours of thinking about the quickest and easiest way to die, my mind settled on drinking bleach. As I started to sit up, getting ready to walk out of my room, he was suddenly on my lap from out of nowhere, crawling up my chest, kneading and purring. As if he knew. Looking back now, I realize he had been laying next to me the entire time, but I had been so out of it that I hadn't noticed. At that moment, all feeling came rushing back, and I began crying, horrified at what I'd almost done. I hugged him and cried some more until I fell asleep.

We moved again after a few years, this time into government housing, and he was allowed to roam the apartment or go outside as often as he wanted. Still, every night without fail, when I laid down, he'd be there next to me.

A few days after my 18th birthday, I secretly brought all my important belongings to school with me, and moved in with my boyfriend. I hadn't been able to get Gwydion out because I hadn't wanted to raise my mother's suspicions before I left--we had stopped letting him outside as often because I didn't want him to get hurt. I had planned on it for weeks, though--my boyfriend had planned to show up that morning with a cat carrier as I quietly slipped him out the door and into my boyfriend's waiting car. But the night before, I realized my mother would notice if he were suddenly gone all day, and that it might hurt my chances of getting out, and if I couldn't get out, I couldn't ever get Gwydion out. So I let my boyfriend know not to come pick him up. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever made.

Those few months without him at night were rough, and I felt so guilty. But eventually, a few months later, my mother was evicted, and she asked me to take him and Hercules or they would be going to the pound. My boyfriend was super sweet and helped me pick them up, as well as necessary cat supplies, and thus began Gwydion's second life. He was 7 years old.

Gwydion had always been sweet to me, but he'd never been fixed, and he'd also been through abuse and lived outside part time, so he wasn't very sweet to other people. He also liked to spray. One of the first things we did was get him fixed and vaccinated. He immediately stopped spraying, and within a few short months, he was cuddling with my boyfriend as well.

For the first time, I was able to spoil him. He was able to walk and climb anywhere he wanted, he had multiple places to lay, he had access to a constant supply of food that never ran out, he had AC, he had a clean litter box, he had his best friend Hercules, he had two people doting on him, he didn't have fleas, and once every week, on Friday night, he'd get canned food. It took a little time, but eventually, he relaxed fully and began to enjoy himself, and he became an even more amazing cat, if that's even possible. He stopped laying on my chest every night, but that's mainly because he could come and lay on my chest or my boyfriend's chest at any time of the day he wanted. He would sometimes lay right on top of both of us at night though, which wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was still sweet.

Hercules was put to sleep a few years later, in November of 2016. Gwydion didn't eat for 3 days, and so I eventually took him to the vet, and they induced his appetite. Thankfully he ate after that, but he was very stand-offish for the next few months.

Around the same time, we got a new kitten from the nearby shelter, who we named Crono. At first, Gwydion cuddled with Crono, but after Hercules' passing, he began to growl and hiss at Crono, and eventually, Crono learned to leave him alone. Feeling bad that Crono had no one to play with, we eventually got a 3rd cat from the same shelter, an 8 month old kitten, who we named Noctis. Noctis and Crono became immediate best friends, and within a month, Gwydion began being his old self again too, grooming the other two and even playing with them at times.

We moved a few months later, this time into a bigger apartment with a backyard and multiple windows, and we got a cat tree. Gwydion had always loved sunbathing, and so he loved this apartment. He could walk almost anywhere in the apartment and have access to a window. He also continued playing with the other two for a little while, which meant he gained a little muscle and evened out to a healthy weight. He was so happy I swear he glowed.

Unfortunately, a few months ago, he started losing weight rapidly, even though he was eating more. For reasons I don't want to explain here, including the fact that he was no longer cleaning himself, I realized a few days ago that this was it, and to keep going just because I adored him would be selfish of me. In my teens, I had seen multiple animals die without the benefit of euthanasia. I couldn't bear the thought of him having to go through that, and I realized he was getting close. So I made the hardest decision I've ever made, and chose to help him go.

My boyfriend and I were able to get a vet to visit us, as he'd always hated car trips. He got to spend his last day sun bathing, getting his favorite canned food, and his favorite treats. He spent his last hour cuddling on my lap. He was too tired and weak to lay up on my chest. I pet him gently and constantly as he lay there, and he passed quietly as I stroked him and told him I loved him.

It still doesn't feel entirely real. The moments when it does, the pain cuts deeper than a hot knife. I will be honest--I don't believe in an afterlife. I wish I did. Because then I might get some solace from the "Rainbow Bridge" poem, or the multitude of pictures assuring me that he's in heaven now, watching over me. But I will never see him again. He is gone. He'll never come up to me again, kneading and purring and booping my face. I'll never hear his sassy little voice again. It's going to take a long time to fully process. But I do know this: if angels were real, he'd be one. I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for him. I wouldn't know the meaning of unconditional love, and I wouldn't be who I am or where I am now without having had the honor of having him in my life. So no matter the pain that continues to come in waves as reality settles over me, I will never regret bringing that little kitten with the stinky poop, who pounced on my toes while I tried to sleep, home.

I love you so much, baby boy. I am glad you existed at the same time as I did. I will carry the memory of you with me for as long as I live.

One of our first nights together.

Stuck in my room together. One of the few times he wore a collar. He tore it off not long after this picture was taken.

After he moved in with me and my boyfriend. Very relaxed and carefree

Pretty boy ❤️

Arm hugging and purring like crazy

Gwydion and Hercules: best friends

Part 2

Cuddling with one of our rats, Rosa

Cuddling with Crono when he was a kitten

The last picture taken, a week ago: cuddling with Noctis.

.

.

.

Rest in peace, baby kitty.

[mymentalhealthisslipping]

My Name?

My name? Oh. No, I'd rather not tell you and for that, I apologize. I do not want you to know who I am because when I tell people how things are truly going in my life, they always seem to look at me with pity. I've had enough pity to last a lifetime and I'm only 21. As I said, I don't want you to know my name but you can call me Emery, or Em for short. I'm using this account to talk about my life. I've always been the listener with my friends and while I know my friends care about me, I almost feel guilty talking to them about my problems. "There's always someone out there who has it worse than you do"; that's something my parents taught me my whole life and it's true. No matter what you're going through, there's someone who has it worse. But a friend recently taught me that it's okay to not like your situation; that it's okay to be unhappy with the things you've been through and I'm trying very hard to keep that in mind when I have a problem. Throughout my time here, I'm not sure where it will lead me and whoever may read this. I didn't plan any of this. I also never planned to be so unhappy with my life. I don't want to die. I want to make that very clear. I used to think I did but I don't really. I simply wish I could put my life on hold every once in a while. For example, my senior year of high school I was having a horrible time with my anxiety and depression. Luckily, the school I went to had a program in which therapists were there every day and because of my anxiety, I was put into the program during my freshman year. It didn't go well. I won't use my therapists real name for obvious reasons but let's say the first one was named Sandra. She was very nice and seemed to care about what I had to say but I still needed time to be comfortable with telling her my life story. Three months after talking to her, I began to get comfortable and she was transferred away from my school. Next, was Leann. She was beautiful in a way that you wouldn't expect her to be nice but she was, honest. So I started the process over of getting comfortable with her, until she was transferred. My next therapist was a very kind, mom-like lady named Shannon. We'd take walks in the hallways during out meetings and sometimes sit outside. Things were going well but one day in math class, my anxiety and depression hit me like a freight train. So I went to Shannon's office to talk to her and when I knocked on the door with tears streaming down my face, a woman I'd never seen before opened the door. I asked her if Shannon was there and she said no and asked if there was anything she could help me with. I told her no and left. There was only a few minutes left for that class so I went to the elevator and cried. The bell rang and I knew I should go to my next class but I didn't want to move. I just wanted time to stop and it didn't. I never went back to the therapists. I ended up skipping my next class and had an hour long mental breakdown in the small elevator. After high school, I fell into a pit of depression, seeing all my friends get married and have children. Several times, I did want to die. Each time I thought about it, I thought about my nephew Eli. He was born my sophomore year in 2016. I was there when he was born and I wanted to be there for every other little milestone in his life. He lights up my soul and I'd do anything for him. I'm sorry for my rabbit trail but my nephew is everything to me and I could talk about his smile alone for hours. Anyways, after high school, my depression got really bad. I'd been smoking since I was 12 but I began drinking to the point that I was always either drunk or hungover. I didn't even realize how bad it had gotten until a few months ago. I don't know what happened but I just slowed down on the drinking. I'm still not completely sober but I drink so much less and if I'm being honest, I'm very proud of myself. I know some people joke and say 2021 was a horrible year but for me, it was as if I was living a nightmare. In July, my boyfriend of almost 7 years grew extremely distant but he was in the

military so I tried to be understanding. Eventually, he stopped opening my messages or returning my calls completely. Finally, I decided it was time to cut ties. I deleted him from all social media and texted him letting him know that it was okay to leave, I just wanted to know what happened. He texted me back and told me he met someone and they began a relationship. I wished him the best, finished my cigarette and went back inside and went to bed. At this time, my dad was in the hospital with covid-19. His health hadn't been great for years and since covid began, our family was very cautious because we knew if he caught it, he probably wouldn't make it. We were right. On September 16th at 8:10 in the morning, he passed away. I was sad but I didn't cry right away. Mine and my dad's relationship hadn't been great since I was little. We'd lie in his bed and he'd hold me while we watched a tv show called Chuck. I started to grow up and for the last 5 years of his life, I gave him nothing but hell. My uncle tells me that he forgave me every time but I don't think I'll ever forgive myself. When my mom told me he passed away, all I could think about was my last birthday just that past month. We got into an argument and after it was said and done, he called me into the living room and told me he didn't forget about my birthday (he hadn't told me happy birthday yet), he just didn't think I respected him enough to accept his happy birthday. We're both extremely stubborn and while it cut me like a knife when he said it, I pretended it didn't bother me and I went down the street to smoke. I just wanted to hear my dad tell my happy birthday again. When he passed, it didn't feel real at all. I kept waking up in the same mentality of him being at the hospital and he was gonna get better and I'd hear his slow, heavy footsteps in the kitchen again. Those footsteps never came back. At his viewing, my family all went in two's to see him and say our goodbyes. My older brother decided to walk with me. My dad and I hardly ever cried. Not because we're heartless but simply because we held it in. So while my family was crying, I was silent and dry faced. When it was mine and my brother's turn to go say our goodbyes he stayed behind and let me go by himself. When I looked back at him, he hung his head and waved at me to go but I didn't want to. I didn't want to make a scene so I went but when I saw my dad, I froze. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that this wasn't a dream. After far too long of me just staring at my father, my brother came up beside me and put his hand on my shoulder. We went off to the side and sat silently while the rest of our family and our pastor told stories of my dad. After this, I wasn't sure how my mom would be. I was very worried about her. Her husband of 26 years whom she had 6 children with was dead but I had nothing to worry about. A couple weeks later, she tells me about a man who she worked with before my parents got married. She started to go to his house a lot and she'd spend nights there. By the time Thanksgiving came around, she was there more than she was home. I took care of my three younger siblings because my older brother and older sister were moved out and had their own lives. I was doing exactly what they would do for me. It's now February of 2022 and mom comes home once a week or so. I've told a friend about this (let's call him Zeke) and he became infuriated. At this point, I wasn't even angry; I was just hurt. My mom took her 26 year marriage and 6 children and seemingly moved on from it all. Her children needed her and she wasn't here. Dear God I miss my mom. My entire life, I wanted to be just like her and now I don't even know who she is. Everything is changing and I want it to stop.

I don't know how often I'll be posting but I think that's all for today. I hope you all are having a wonderful day.

Love always,

Emery

[outofthefires]

Secrets and Lies – Part 1 & 2 – Solo by Kaito

⎝ 𝒲𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒶 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒? ⎠

The shift in the mood of the Palace was palpable. The servants and members of the court were all on edge, even when the Lunars were nowhere to be seen. The dinners were awkwardly formal and silent. Father refused to allow Thaumaturge #Sybil to speak politics at the table. I knew my hand in marriage was being vied for in their negotiations. But nobody said so, directly.

I had redoubled my efforts to find out everything I could about the lost #PrincessSelene, but the presence of the Lunars had me paranoid. I was nervous to have #Nainsi reveal her findings to me for fear of being manipulated to divulge the information to the Thaumaturge. I knew she could have me say anything she wanted and even make me believe it was my idea while I was doing it, too. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that no matter how badly #QueenLevana desired a marriage alliance; if they discovered my plot to find the rightful Lunar Heir they would have me killed.

This was why I had made plans with Hiro to disguise myself and sneak out of the Palace to a concert in central New Beijing. But really, I planned to slip away and have #Nainsi meet me on neutral ground, I truly believed that the android was getting close.

"Why can't you just have the staff call ahead and make arrangements? We'd be treated like...." He looked me over in the simplest mandarin-collared, white shirt I owned. "Well... Royalty." Hiro complained as he dug into his closet for something for me to wear that wouldn’t draw attention. His glance made me unbutton the shirt and pull on a plain white vest that sat on a pile of folded clothes I safely assumed were place there by his mother.

"That's the point, Hiro... I don't want to be treated like royalty right now. I need to get out of here. I've had to be on my best behaviour every second. It's maddening, I just want to let loose."

"Fine." He huffed and tossed a dark grey hoodie into my face, harder than necessary. I caught it and stuffed my arms into the sleeves. "But next time we go as the Prince and an upstanding member of the Royal Court." He popped the collar of the leather jacket and I rolled my eyes, he was going to overheat in that thing.

"Deal." I agreed, and we both hurried from the room in the two-bedroom apartment; afforded to them by his mother’s position has the Palaces head chef. Whom I promptly walked right into when I stepped out to the narrow hallway. She shrieked a little with fright.

"Zhao-jiĕ!" I dragged my finger through my scruffy hair. "I'm sorry, I thought -"

"Your Highness!" She clutched her chest and gave a relieved laugh. "You scared me half to death." Then her gaze drifted over my clothing... rather her son's clothing. Then a glare settled on Hiro.

"Right." Her eye's flickered from her son to me. "I never saw you, I have no idea what you’re up to, and don't want to. Go before I change my mind." She added after we didn’t respond.

"Thank you." I grinned, gave a polite dip of my head and shuffled past as she plastered herself to the wall to make space for us to go by.

Leaving the palace wasn't as hard as it used to be, now that I was of age it was within my power to dismiss my security detail for the evening once I had retired from my official duties. Once we reached the grounds the android security was really only concerned with keeping people out... not in. The Hover was waiting for us when we got to the west gate, and Hiro swiped his ID chip so mine wouldn't be tracked. Not that it was likely... but my planned rendezvous with #Nainsi gave me extra cause for caution.

I had insured in my planning that I would have some time to enjoy myself before then. We made our way inside the venue. Hiro was a pro at attracting attention to keep it off of me. He flashed the guy on the door bedroom eyes, as he reached into his jacket to pull out his portscreen to scan our tickets, blowing him a kiss and waving his fingers at the guy as we passed; I was slinking behind him with my hood pulled close around my face as he carefully weaved between me and anyone that happened to have a portscreen in their hand.

The massive space was swarming with bodies, and even the rare open spaces felt crowded with the heavy bass beating against my chest. A feeling I had to say... Was addictive and I rarely had the chance to experience in a place like this. My eyes move to the balconies... where half of these people wished they could be. But when I was sat up there, I craved being down here.

The human condition… always wanting what we cannot have.

We found a less crowded spot and Hiro squeezed his way to the bar and got us some drinks. We had hardly finished those before a young woman and leather and fishnet gloves snaking over her arms stumbled on her heels and I instinctively reached out to catch her before she hit the ground. "Shit!" I saw Hiro's lips make the shape of the word, but I heard nothing other than the pounding music. She recognized me before I even steadied her back onto her feet. She pressed her fingers to painted purple lips, and her eyes widened the way they always did right before the screaming started. I gave the girl a not-really-shy smile and brought my finger to my lips.

"Someone with a face like yours can't easily hide, Your Highness." She leaned into me. Slightly intoxicated.

"Would a dance buy your silence?" I tilted my head to the side and smiled. She nodded and took my hand leading me to the edge of the crowd.

⎝ "𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘!!!” ⎠

I got lost in the crowd with my dance partner, it gave me the perfect cover to ditch Hiro and it was all too easy to slip away from the girl in the sea of bodies. I checked my watch and slipped out through a fire exit. I had memorized the route from the map before I left. I didn’t carry my portscreen. It was too easy to trace, and I was already the most traceable man in the Commonwealth.

I had studied the path to the place I had arranged for #Nainsi to meet me. My heart was pounding with anticipation that our research may have finally amounted to something. I knew it was a rash decision to have her reveal her findings now… with Lunars in the Palace that could pry the information from my pliable, human mind with a simple thought. But the longer they were here the more I believed that time was running out for my country… my people… and yes, of course for me too.

By the time I made it to the corner I was supposed to meet the android on, I already knew something was up, the street was deserted. I had chosen it after the sector was shut down for several days after a handful of factory workers were afflicted by the plague that was ravaging our country. The sector had since been cleared to reopen, but fear lingered for weeks after an outbreak so; all but those that worked here stay home and once the workday was done they would leave as quickly as possible.

The only light was the deep orange-yellow of the streets light. The faint blue glow of #Nainsi’s sensor was nowhere to be seen. I reached into my pocket for my portscreen to comm the android, the stark memory hit me that I had left it behind in Hiro’s room.

They were incapable of being late. Something had happened. There must have been a crisis at the Palace; imminent danger to human life was the only thing that could trump an order from their owner. My mind raced a mile a minute.

“Dad!!” I said out loud to the empty street. “#Sybil!” I growled.

I started to run, my eyes peeled for a hover, anyone… anyone with a portscreen that could comm one. I pulled the hood down, I didn’t care if I was recognised. I wanted to be recognised. If my face started popping up on net profiles my security detail would be alerted in minutes and I’d get home.

“Hello!!” I called out into the darkness, but nothing. This place was deserted at this hour. I ran for ten minutes in the thick heat, as fast as my legs could carry me. I finally reached a residential area and stopped at the first house I found with a light on. I steadied my nerves so I didn’t rap on the door like a maniac. Just because I was freaking out didn’t mean I had any right to terrify whoever was on the other side of that door.

The second I knocked I heard the steps inside.

“Yes, Your Highness. My husband was stricken with the plague in the outbreak in the industrial district.” She replied.

My heart sank. “My deepest sympathies.” I muttered; the sentiment felt empty.

I asked her if I could use her Portscreen to contact the palace, she agreed and I commed my head of security directly. While I waited, I glanced around the home that seemed to be no more than three rooms, but that wasn’t what struck me the most, it was the boxes stacked neatly against the wall.

“Are you moving?” I pried shamelessly.

“Yes, Your Highness. This housing district is only for the employees of the factories. The rent was deducted directly from my husband’s wages.” She explained and my eyes pressed her for more.

“I am a seamstress, but my daughter was born via C-section only one week ago. I cannot work yet.” She teared up and her eyes darted to a document in the table. A real paper document, I snatched it up, enraged before I even knew for certain what it said.

“Notice to Vacate” was printed across the top. There was a knock on the door she moved to open it.

“No.” I said to her softly and took her arm, she still clutched the child. I guided her to the chair. “You shouldn’t be on your feet.” I moved to the door and let in the two Palace Guards. My mind was still racing as they reminded me of my irresponsibility.

I cut them off. “I’ve just hired this woman as my personal tailor. I would like her, and her daughter transferred to the Palace as soon as it can be arranged.”

The men eyed the woman’s tear-streaked face. It was now coloured red and her jaw hung open.

I was thinking on my feet. “She will receive full maternity care and pay until she is cleared to work… and she is to be assigned a domestic droid to aide her until she’s recovered from her recent medical procedure.” I suddenly realise #Nainsi wasn’t with them… That was unusual. This message really shouldn’t be relayed to them. It wasn’t their job.

“Your Majesty.” The Guard started. But I had turned away and was speaking to the woman now.

“It’s not a glamorous life, but you’ll be sheltered, and fed. Paid a fair wage. And it’s a job, not a sentence, you can leave as soon as you are able... if that is what you wish.” She still didn’t speak. I heard another hover pull up outside and Hiro rushed into the cramped kitchen, seconds later.

“Kai!!! What in the name of all the stars!!!” he yelled, one of the guards shifted uneasily.

“I apologise, Your Majesty. He was coming us in a panic.” He started to explain.

“That’s quite alright. Actually, you are just the man for the job Hiro.” He eyed me curiously and I continued. “This young woman will be relocating to the servant’s wing of the Palace. How long will it take to prepare a place for her and the child?”

Hiro was stunned, his jaw hung open now to. “Um…. Hours…. Less maybe.” He shrugged, still aghast.

“Excellent.” I turned back to the woman. “I won’t tell you this will fix all your worries. But at the very least it will help you heal in a safe place. And Hiro…” I pointed to him over my shoulder. “We grew up together. He grew up in the servant’s wing. I trust him with my life, if you are comfortable with it I will have him stay with you and he will make all the arrangements?” I rested my hand on hers. She had still yet to speak a word.

“I don’t know what to say.” She stammered out.

“Say you accept?” I said with the most comforting smile I could muster.

[spermendes]

DREAMS [SM: SONG ONE-SHOT]

Description: Y/N’s past affects her relationship with Shawn, to the point that he can’t deal with it anymore. He leaves for tour, but they still dream about one another.

SONG: Dreams - NF

N.E

Yeah, most of my life's full of sad days

Started at a young age

Yeah, bought a house but I've been livin' on stage

Tryna find the real me, I ain't found it yet

Wake up every morning feelin' like I'm guilty

Talk to God, "Can you hear me?"

Lately, I'm a mess

I don't want no one to help me

Yeah, I don't want no one to help me and

EVER SINCE the beginning, Y/N had known what pain felt like, whether it be mental or physical, she was most certain she’d felt it before. But really, what hurt the most, was the fact that the pain wasn’t accident, but it was her that was the accident. She wasn’t planned. She wasn’t supposed to be brought into this world. She was classified as a drunken mistake that happened to be created amongst all of it.

At about six years old, her father had left and come back more times than she could count, and then one day he just never came back. Her mother was diagnosed with depression, and had troubles looking after her for many years in her life. It had changed the two of them, they both so different to what they were before he left, despite Y/N being young.

Y/N lived in a quiet house, one full of sadness. There was no laughter, no smiles. It was just occupied by her mother and herself. Her mother turned to drinking regularly, and found herself in the hospital enough times that she couldn’t keep track anymore. Y/N looked after her mother more than her mother looked after her, and it took a toll on her.

She couldn’t deal with it after three years, so she decided to figure her life out. She was midst her way through elementary when it was found out that she had a higher intelligence than most people her age, which resulted in her moving up almost two year levels. She was the youngest in her class, and it was scary.

If you think I make decisions based off of what you think, then you're wrong

Can't nobody think for me, I got my own thoughts

Sometimes you don't know what you had until it's all gone, 'til it's all gone

If I took the hand that was dealt me then I would be nowhere in life

Yeah, I had to think smart

Threw away the deck and got my own cards

Long before I had the money to afford a car

She was amongst kids almost two years older, and being smarter than them? That was a problem for some of those kids. They didn’t like that someone who was a year a half younger than them, was also smarter than them. It then resulted to her being bullied, until she went to a different high school to everyone she had known in primary school.

She graduated high school and decided she wanted to write poetry and study history. It was when she was in college, that things had started looking up. She was still being judged, but she knew it come with the territory. She’d made a few good friends, and that was when she met Shawn. Shawn, the musician major, the kid that slipped his way into her heart without her even realising until it was too late.

They’d started getting to know one another, until one day he asked her to be his girlfriend. That was the start of the best time in her life, she forgot about her past more and more with Shawn beside her because he was too busy making more memories to replace her old ones.

They’d dated all throughout college, even until Shawn had gotten a record deal for Island Records in New York City. He was over the moon about it, and Y/N supported him all throughout his rise to fame, while she wrote poems to the side of being a history tutor. Shawn absolutely loved her poems, to the point that he’d even recreated them into his own words to make them lyrics.

They were the strongest couple out there. They barely fought, and if they did, it was usually something major, but they came out stronger than ever. Shawn stuck by her side even throughtout the days she wasn’t feeling like herself, up until one day, he just snapped.

I–I've been doin' me

I've been doin' me

Yeah, I've been doin' me

I've been doin' me

Followin' my dreams

Yeah, I've been doin' me

I've been doin' me

I've been doin' me

Yeah, I've been doin' me

I've been doin' me

Followin' my dreams

Yeah, I've been doin' me

He couldn’t deal with the pressure anymore. It was putting pressure on his career, and he didn’t want to risk anything. Their relationship then ended, after four and a half years, just days before Shawn was supposed to be going on his second world tour. It shattered Y/N, as she now had nobody to get help from. Her mother abandoned her before she graduated high school, so she was stuck fending for herself, until a middle aged couple found her and took her in as their own.

She’d never been happier after being taken in by the couple. They treated her like family, and gave her everything she needed to be successful. They taught her most things she knew, but also taught her things she never would have learnt if they hadn’t of taken her in. She was grateful for the two of them, as she wouldn’t have gotten this far.

She’d been offered a job after college, to work for a newspaper who often added a page to writers for short stories or even poems. Y/N’s work had been added several times, which landed her a job at one the biggest publishing company’s in New York. She’d been so occupied that she didn’t even bother to check any of her social media, unless she was on there just to post her newest poem she’d made up.

Most of my life's full of regrets

Things I wanna take back, yeah

Wrote you a letter, wish that I had never sent that

Didn't even make sense, I don't even know

All I know is I get lower on the weekends

They tell me I should make friends, I just sit at home

Lately, I've been off the deep end, yeah

I've been off the deep end and

She never got distracted on social media. Shawn and herself hadn’t spoken in months, not since the break up, but she kind of glad. They’d ended on such bad terms that she wasn’t sure that she’d even speak to him again after what he’d said to her, if they ever ran into one another again.

She did miss him though, and all the memories that they made. She had never been happier than after she had been adopted. It was the best time in her life, and she’d finally grown more as a person. She was changing, and growing stronger every day without him.

But deep down inside of her, she still cared about him. She knew it wouldn’t be good to text or call him, so she decided to send him an old fashioned letter. But in the end, with the response she had gotten about not wanting to stay friends, deal with her problems, or even be friends with her.

If you think that I'm 'bout to change who I am just for you then you're so wrong

As I kid I built a house around my broke cars

Sometimes you don't know what you had until it falls apart, 'til it falls apart

If I took the hand that was dealt me then I would be nowhere in life

Yeah, I had to think smart

Threw away the deck and got my own cards

Long before I had the money to afford a car

She’d suddenly gotten lower than she ever had been before, and her adoptive parents said it’d be best if she made some friends, and she tried, but she found herself in the bottom of a bottle like her mother. That was her worst fear, to turn out like her mother had. She hated the fact that she’d turned to drinking, and she wished she could change her decision.

She’d then found herself a friend that helped her through everything. She’d learnt of everything that had happened in Y/N’s life up until that moment, and she didn’t run or hide. She stayed by her side more than Shawn did. It scared her, opening up to someone again, after what Shawn had done.

Sometimes it’d scared her so much that she found herself dreaming of him and what they used to be before everything went to shit. Many nights she had spent waking up in tears, just wishing everything went to the way before Shawn and herself broke up, because he was one of the best things that had happened to her.

I've been doin' me (oh)

I've been doin' me

Yeah, I've been doin' me (I have been)

I've been doin' me

Followin' my dreams

Yeah, I've been doin' me (followin' my)

I've been doin' me

I've been doin' me (I've been followin' my)

Yeah, I've been doin' me

Followin' my dreams

Yeah, I'm just doin' me

Yeah, I'm just doin' me

She still continued to write her poems however, and she was still as passionate as she was five and a half years ago. Nothing in her career had changed, because of her traumatic past fuelled her to write more meaningful poems. Many turning back around to being about Shawn.

It showed. People figured it out, quite quickly too, which scared her. She hoped that Shawn hadn’t figured them out yet, because she didn’t want him to know that she still cared, despite everything that happened. She’d grown as a person, she’d sort of moved on, she’d got a new family, and she had a new friend. What more could she want?

Shawn. That’s what she wanted. That’s what she’d wanted since the moment they broke up. She’d never shed so many tears after their break up, crying for days on end, feeling herself become lower and lower, only for nobody to be by her side to help her cope with that.

Yeah, I'm reminiscin' back to both of us laughin'

Playin' old records thinkin' every one of 'em's classic

Windows down, we on the street up in Michigan rappin'

We talked about it, but never really knew it could happen

My confidence about as low as the gas is

We didn't have the money for it, so we'd turn the key backwards

And sit in parking lots for hours 'til the battery crashes

I think that we related 'cause both of us were lookin' for answers

A couple months ago I drove into Gladwin, got me all in my feelings

It's somethin' 'bout bein' somewhere that's familiar

Pull in the gas station, open up the tank then I fill it then laugh

Would I move back? Mm, not in a million, but I appreciate the memories that we had

I know you've been callin', sorry I never call back

I know I've been distant, you know I never meant that

You can tell the family how I'm doing if they ask

I'm just doin' me

Shawn was different though. He had so many people he could ask for help, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to admit that all of his problems were because of his ex-girlfriend, who had problems since the moment she was old enough to understand what was one. He didn’t want to tell anybody what his songs were about, because he just couldn’t.

He felt like it’d betray the trust he once had with Y/N, before he snapped and everything went down hill. She put so much trust in him that it physically hurt, because she was constantly a reminder of how much trust he could put into somebody.

He couldn’t do anything now. She was far to gone from her old self, that she wouldn’t even be able to help him with everything that went downhill for him. Everything went downhill after they broke up, but now, the only thing he could do was dream of what they used to be.