#how was i made to feel bad about literally breathing while being unemployed while he can eat my mum out of house & home with no shame or

[jamescarstairs]

new year same rant: i don't think i will ever be able to forgive my parents & the rest of my family for how they treated me when i was unemployed compared to how they now treat my brother

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟔)

pt. 15

note: missed u baddies~~~!!! this chapter was so hard to write but i love how it turned out, hope y’all loved it tooooo ♡ 

playlist *new additions!*

word count: 7.6k

warnings: age gap, smut 

Absentmindedly, you picked up your phone on the end table beside you. It was positively buzzing with notifications, and you were a bit thrown off by the sheer amount of them. You furrowed your eyebrows as you skimmed through the notifications from the bottom to the top— you had a bunch of missed calls from your parents, more Snapchat notifications on your regular snap than ever, and a plethora of texts. 

You wondered if something had happened, chewing slightly on your bottom lip. Was everything okay at home? Did you post something meant for your cam site on your Instagram? A hundred various circumstances fled through your mind, but none of the situations you had made up could’ve prepared you for when you opened a text from Aaliyah with a picture attached. It read:

    - Attachment: 1 image

    - BITCH, THIS IS LITERALLY YOU!!!

     You sat up immediately, your stomach twisting nauseatingly as you looked at the image on your phone screen. You blinked a few times, rubbing furiously at your eyes like this was all a bad dream and you’d wake up in a few seconds. Because this couldn’t be happening. There was no way that you were looking at a picture of you and Steve that neither of you had taken, walking out of a restaurant you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of right now. A sense of urgency flooding your veins, you nudged Steve harshly. He shifted in his sleep and put his arms around your waist, unaware of what was going on. 

     “Steve!” you hissed, your face burning. 

     He woke up relatively quickly, hearing the seriousness in your tone, sitting up against the pillow and facing you, his brows knitted together, muscles flexing as he supported himself on his arms. 

     “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, leaning forward to see what you were showing him on your phone. 

You watched his expression change from one of confusion to one of concern as he began to grasp what had happened. But, instead of talking it out with you as you expected, he cursed under his breath and ripped the bed sheets off of him, getting up out of bed. You leaned forward, your naked bottom half getting exposed to the air while he pulled on some clothes and made his way out the door. 

     “Where’re you going?” you called out after him, and he didn’t even bother to take a look back at you as he marched out of the apartment, muttering,

     “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You tried to catch up to him, but it was too late. He was gone, and now you were alone in this apartment which felt eerily empty without him now, your phone pinging with a new notification every few seconds. 

| | | 

     As expected, the headquarters were abuzz when Steve entered them. He had arrived in a haste, driving stoically on the busy New York streets, his mind racing just like the cars that zoomed past him. The first person to face him once he got inside was Bucky, who just gave Steve a sympathetic look and held the door open for him— Bucky already knew everything, he had figured it out a few weeks ago on his own. You and Steve had already dealt with that hiccup, and you had hoped (perhaps naively) that the situation with Bucky was just a fluke, and that nothing more like that would happen again. But you had been sorely mistaken. 

     Steve gave Bucky a nod, and they both made their way to the meeting room, where Steve already knew everyone would be waiting for him. Quite immaturely, he rolled his eyes at the fact that everyone was there. This matter was something personal, it had nothing to do with the rest of the Avengers, though technically it did, because Steve’s actions affected the rest of the team and  he knew that. But to his own credit, he had just woken up and he was already being bombarded with messages from PR and the rest of the team about this mishap. He had to compose himself before walking in, taking a deep breath and relaxing his clenched jaw. 

     “Are you insane?” was the first thing Steve heard when he walked in, no doubt coming from Tony.

Steve sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets, glaring at Tony,

     “Save the berating for later.”

     “Were you not thinking? Is this what you were doing during your time off?” Tony continued, his hands up in the air in a questioning motion.

     “Listen, Tony. I’m not here to hear what I did wrong. I’m here to solve this issue right now, whatever that means.”

     “You’re gonna wanna see this,” Sam said reluctantly, sliding a magazine across the table for Steve to see. 

     It was one of those ridiculous celebrity gossip magazines, and multiple pictures of Steve and you were highlighted on the front page. Steve prepared for the worst as he read the headlines: “Captain America with Mystery Girl?” and “Who is Captain America’s New Boo?” He opened the magazine to more unsavory headlines, and to his extreme dismay, pictures of you from your personal Instagram highlighted. 

     He raised his eyebrows as he read: “More on Captain America’s New Girl.” They had found your name, your age, and worst of all, your profession. Steve was seeing red as he forced himself to keep reading the salacious article which made you out to be a deviant with ulterior motives, abusing inaccurate phrases like, “an unemployed college girl turned porn star” and, “the face of Captain America’s midlife crisis!” 

Steve’s face burned white hot as he scanned the article, barely even registering the content and instead finding himself growing more and more angered by the inflammatory statements that were being made. 

     “That’s enough,” Nat finally spoke up, watching the expressions on Steve’s face grow more and more catastrophic.

She snatched the magazine away from Steve and shoved it across the table, folding her arms and glaring down the table at Tony. 

     “You okay?” Bucky asked, reaching a hand out to Steve’s shoulder. He could feel Tony’s angry glare focused on him, while everyone else gazed at him pitifully. 

Steve sighed, jerking his shoulder away from Bucky’s touch. He couldn’t even pinpoint his emotions, all he was feeling right now was rage. He was angry at himself, feeling like he somehow let this happen, even though deep down he could hear your voice telling him that he was doing everything right and that it wasn’t his fault. He was angry that now, your privacy and safety were on the line, and people who didn’t know a thing about you were making absurd assumptions about you. 

     He felt like yelling, punching something, doing anything to let out this anger so he could at least have some sort of vessel for this fury he was feeling. But he stood painstakingly still, trying to hear your voice over all the noise, your voice telling him everything was okay even though right now all signs were saying that everything was not okay. 

     “You have to deny everything,” Tony sighed after moments of awkward silence. “She’s your assistant and you were undercover acting as boyfriend and girlfriend, something convincing but not as exposing as that. And you’re getting your legal team to sue all these publications for false claims and defamation.”

Steve furrowed his brows, staring at Tony,

     “They aren’t false claims.”

Tony shrugged flippantly,

      “If you want everyone to think Captain America is sleeping with a porn star, then so be it. But it’s going to cost you if you think for a second I’m gonna let that slide on our team-”

Steve cut him off, losing the calming hum of your voice in his mind in a new wave of anger, 

     “She’s not a porn star, she’s a college graduate and the owner of an online brand and a sex worker, and that’s more than a lot of people her age can say, so don’t get brave because of these god damn articles, Stark.”

     “Listen, Cap,” Tony spat sarcastically. “I don’t give a shit who she is. The point is that in this case, your opinion on her doesn’t matter because everyone else is going to say whatever the fuck they want to say. And that’s bad for you, it’s bad for us, and it’s bad for her, if you care as much as you claim to.”

     “Don’t act like I didn’t think about this,” Steve lurched forward, slamming his hands on the table. “She’s more than just some girl to me. Don’t act like every waking second I didn’t worry that something like this would happen. Like, like I didn’t take every precaution I could, look over my shoulder every five seconds. I’m not as stupid as you want me to be, Stark.”

Of course Steve cared about his team and how this would affect the Avengers, but the last straw was the media coming for you, putting your privacy and your safety at stake. Your job and the details of your job were extremely sensitive, and you were just beginning to make a name for yourself in the real world. Steve honestly felt like this was worse for you than it was for him. He knew he had to take care of this first, for logistical reasons, but when he was done, he’d get right to you as soon as possible.

     Tony sighed, softening just a bit.

     “Listen. You know what you have to do. After the Accords, this… this isn’t the kind of attention that we need. Regardless of that, we can’t have this. You’re making a statement today, and you know what you have to say. PR’s already contacting the publishers of these bullshit articles. As for your little girlfriend, if we’re not careful, she could be in huge danger. You know the kind of people we deal with, and how fast they would swing at a chance to grab her when they think she’s unprotected. That’s exactly why you need to deny everything, and we’ll do all the damage control possible. Not that there’s even much we can fix at this point.”

      Steve glared all around the table, only to see faces of the rest of the members of the team looking up at him expectantly. He needed to explain himself. How’d he even get into this mess, what was he thinking, the usual. And Steve knew that that was his responsibility— as Captain America. As the leader. As a part of the team. Right now, he was just himself. Steve Rogers. And all that Steve Rogers was worried about was you. Regardless of what you said, the fact that you could be in danger scared the shit out of him, and also put him into this almost primitive, dominant mode. He needed to protect you. He didn’t care about reactions and rumors, he needed to make sure you were safe.

     “Talk later,” was all Steve said, turning out of the room and ignoring Tony calling his name. When he got into the car he slammed the door shut and began the drive home. 

      His mind was swarming with thoughts, about what this meant for his team, for his job, all the things he’d left unaddressed in the meeting room. He knew this wasn’t his fault, he knew that’s what you would say, but Steve wasn’t going to let himself off this easily. He was livid about the fact that the magazines and web articles had found you out so quickly and had posted pictures of you, giving away personal information about you and jeopardizing you as if you deserved it at all. So he drove home in a silent, fuming rage.

      By the time Steve came home, you, too were beside yourself with anger. You’d seen the posts your friends and family were sending you, and your social media was getting flooded with spam and comments from people who didn’t know the first thing about you. Some were downright cruel, others were oddly interested in this situation that was meant to be private all along. You hadn’t even called your parents yet or explained yourself to anyone, all you did was text them and tell them you’d get back to them later when you figured this all out. The only person you wanted to talk to at this point was Steve, and he wasn’t even there, nor was he answering his phone and you knew he had it on him. 

     The fact that he had seen the news and just left immediately, not giving you any sort of comfort or advice, not even beginning to work through this together, had you fuming. You knew that just like you, Steve had people to explain himself to and others to reach out to. But as far as you were concerned, you should’ve been the first person he talked to about this— he should’ve worked with you to at least talk about how to fix this before he just marched out the way he did. 

      You thought you had both worked past his eternal faithfulness to his job and the pressure to be dominant that he felt all the time, felt you had reached the core of the superhuman. But him leaving as promptly as he did only proved you wrong. You didn’t want to go through this alone, you wanted to go through this with him, as it was about the both of you in the first place.

     He came in and you looked up from your phone, where you were scrolling worriedly through the trending Twitter hashtag about you and Steve. Everyone was giving their unwarranted opinions, and you honestly worried how this would impact you— tons of information about you had been revealed without your consent, and it did not at all make you look good to the typical eye. 

     “Where did you go?” you asked him quietly, glaring up at him. 

He seemed to sense your anger and sighed, shrugging his shoulders in a resigned manner,

     “Headquarters. Had to sort some things out.”

     “Do you know how long I’ve been sitting here scrolling through pictures of me that are from my fucking cam site? Strangers exchanging information about me on the internet, seeing all this shit about us? And you just— just left? You didn’t even try to talk to me, Steve, honestly, what the fuck?” you snapped, your upper lip curling up angrily.

     Steve glided over to you, sitting beside you on the side of the bed and trying to get close to you. He truly felt sorrowful for leaving you alone, he wished you had known how much he wanted to talk to you while he was being berated by Tony. He only wished you had known how little he cared about the logistics because you were on his mind the whole time. 

     But he knew you were right, he had left without even trying to sort things out with you, left you to handle things on your own without even giving you an inch of support or telling you where he was going and what he planned for when he got back. 

     “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Steve apologized, his tone genuine, trying to catch your eye. He finally did, and even though you still glared angrily at him, he grinned at the fact that you were at least looking at him. “I should’ve been here for you, and dealt with all the other logistics later. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, honestly, angel. I didn’t… I didn’t know-”

He didn’t know that your image was being plastered around everywhere, that you were being unpacked by attention-seeking publications. Your safety and your privacy came before the reputation of his team, before all the logistics. That was all he had wanted to protect this entire time. You. Looking into Steve’s eyes, you could see that they were almost glassy, and you shifted from anger to concern quickly. 

     “Baby,” you cradled your arms around his head, frowning. “No, no, I’m… I’m being stupid, of course you have to handle shit with your job first, I should know that. I just wish we could’ve processed this emotionally first. Instead of separating from each other first thing.”

     “No,” Steve said firmly, pulling away from your touch and placing strong, grounding hands on your shoulders. “No, you are completely valid, and you’re right to be angry with me, doll. I should’ve taken a moment. That’s- that’s what we’ve been working on this entire time and you’ve been trying to teach me to step outside of my anxieties and all my duties. And I should’ve been here for you. I didn’t even take the time to comfort you. I’m sorry.”

      “Thank you,” you smiled softly, and he pulled you in for a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck. 

     This was the warmest you’d ever felt with him, just sitting there with him calmly in the midst of all the chaos, finding peace and stillness in each other’s arms. Anywhere else but in each other’s arms felt dangerous and uncertain, and now that you were here together, you were starting to look up. Everything was still shitty, but maybe together, things would feel less shitty. 

     “Listen, you’ll be okay. I’m sorry for all of this, I know what you’re going to say, but I know that I’m partially responsible. I just wanted to keep you safe, and, fuck.”

You chuckled quietly to yourself, your faces only inches apart when you brought your hands up to cup and graze Steve’s cheeks lovingly,

      “You still blame yourself for everything. You can’t control what these fucking publications do. You know that. And selfishly, the risk of getting caught is worth taking, if it means I get to be with you.”

Steve melted into your touch, but still there was that stiff part of him that wanted to blame himself for this mess,

     “We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on this one, doll,” he laughed wistfully. “But, you didn’t teach me for naught. Instead of pitying ourselves, we’re gonna work on this, right?”

You nodded with a smile, 

     “Yes, yes, exactly.”

Steve sighed before continuing, frowning as he remembered the hostile air in the office.

     “They told me to deny everything and get my legal team involved, but I…” Steve paused, feeling his anger and defiance resurge. 

     If they were going to expose you two, then so be it, it was true. If he didn’t tell the truth, if he denied all the “allegations,” he was just letting them win. He was letting them silence him, letting him think he was doing something wrong because he had found you, his happiness. And sure, your relationship was easy to publicize and critique because it was controversial for many obvious reasons— the age difference, the sensitive nature of your jobs. 

     But Steve didn’t care what they had to say. All he cared was that this didn’t push you apart. And if it meant telling the truth, he’d do that. The bombardment of rumors and questions would pass eventually. Nothing could soil the Avengers for long. If he handled this the way the public expected him to handle it— with some spineless apology or some weak minded statement, it wouldn’t be fair to you. Not when you and Steve were together. 

He continued,

     “I’m not going to. I’m not denying a thing. I’ll release a statement on my own… I’ll… I’ll tell the truth. I’ll get them to leave you alone and take down whatever they’ve posted about you. I don’t care what they have to say about us. Just… they can’t mess with you.”

     Steve’s fists balled up inadvertently in frustration and anger, but he was also feeling a surge of pride, courage. He didn’t have to deal with this the way everyone wanted him to. This was a personal matter, and even though it affected his job and his team, Steve had been through too much in the past few weeks to let the public play him the way they wanted to. There would be drama, and talk, but it would all subside as it always did. He’d always be Captain, and as long as he had a good heart and good intentions, and did his job right, he didn’t give a shit about what strangers had to say about who he was in love with. 

You blinked, shocked and puzzled by Steve’s words. This was like a full 180, you weren’t used to Steve rebelling like this. You figured maybe he was just worked up, and you didn’t want to be the reason he got in trouble. You knew he had his responsibilities, regardless of how you felt. You didn’t expect him to put you above everything, you knew he had to deal with matters like this in a specific way. You tried to calm him down,

     “Steve, you’re sweet. But you should go through with what your team wants. I mean, it’s what’s best, isn’t it?”

Steve cocked his head at you,

     “And keep doing this in secret? I mean, we can’t keep this up for long, doll, you know that. If I deny it now and the truth somehow comes out, that’d be even worse. I know my team is saying the opposite, but I think this is what’s best. The rumors, the gossip… it’ll come to a stop. What we have is stronger than that.”

You grinned, your eyes glossy,

     “I know, but I don’t wanna be the reason you get in trouble.”

Steve inched closer to you and cupped your face firmly with his hands, looking into your eyes,

     “You’re not. And you won’t be. Don’t blame yourself for a second. I’m taking care of this, alright? You’ve done so much for me and you don’t even know it. It would be a disservice to the both of us if I didn’t stand up for us. Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my job. I was wrong to ever make you feel like that was your responsibility more than it was my own. We’ll be alright.”

     Steve was true to his word. As the day progressed and word spread even more, soon enough there was a statement to match the rumors. It wasn’t what the publicists or his fellow Avengers wanted to hear, but it was what he thought was right. And there was no reversing it. Later that day you sat on your laptop, scrolling through the recently updated articles on your situation. 

     Superhero Captain America, known to those in his personal life as Steve Rogers, admits that he has been in a private relationship for the past few months. Rogers and his team ask that their privacy be maintained and respected despite the shocking, unexpected news. At the time, Rogers and his fellow Avengers will not be taking any further inquiries about the matter, and they are taking this violation of privacy and security very seriously. 

     You breathed out a sigh of relief as you read the statement, mulling it over a few times in your head. All Steve wanted was to keep you safe and get as much information that had been revealed about you taken down. You weren’t quite sure what you were going to do from here on out— your sensitive profession had been exposed and this was something that would quite likely impact you for the rest of your life. 

     How could you be expected to be taken seriously to get a career when you had been trashed and defamed on the internet for your job? It seemed that still, no one quite understood sex work and that it was just as legitimate a profession as anything else, and you knew from the start that sex workers were looked down upon. You had done everything right— you used an alias, you didn’t give away personal information. And now, your face was plastered on gossip websites, with links to the very cam site you used. 

     Needless to say, you were stressed. But, you weren’t panicking. You were processing everything and it was all so overwhelming. In the grand scheme of things, you weren’t being nitpicky about the specifics. You had faith that you would figure this all out, that everything would be back to normal soon. Whatever that meant for your future, you weren’t sure. But you refused to lose hope. Not yet. You’d pick yourself back up from the ground and dust yourself off, just like you’d done so many times before. The difference was that Steve would be there for you every step of the way.

     Steve was out again handling important business. He’d talked to you before leaving and you understood that he’d have to be gone for a few hours trying to juggle this insane situation. In the meantime, you decided that since you had time, you’d call back everyone who had been bombarding you with messages and calls. Firstly, you’d call your parents. You dialed your dad’s number and he picked up almost immediately. 

You could hear him calling your mother’s name so she could talk to you too, and you heard her scramble up to the phone to talk. 

      “YN, what the hell is going on?” your mother asked, but she sounded more concerned than upset. 

     “We’ve been calling all day, we’ve been worried sick. Everyone’s been asking about you and we had no clue what was going on,” your father continued. 

You were surprised at their tone. Perhaps ever since your awkward dinner with them where you’d revealed what was likely your biggest secret, there had been a shift. You were surprised when they were so quick to accept you despite being so distant from you your whole life, being the root of your emotional issues. You sighed, rubbing your forehead,

     “Look, I know it’s a lot.”

     “Are you okay, sweetie? Be honest,” your mother pleaded, and you made a face,

     “I’m fine, it’s been a stressful day, but-”

      “No, I mean in general. We… we know we haven’t been talking much, but this… this whole thing, it’s-- we’re worried about you. You just go off to New York without saying a thing to anyone? You’re in some secret relationship with a man twice your age?” 

You understood their concern, but at the same time, you knew you weren’t being irrational by doing these things. Instead, you were doing what made you happy. This wasn’t a spontaneous, crazy decision. You and Steve were both extremely logical people, and you weren’t unstable just because you did this without anyone knowing. You had your reasons. 

     “Look, I… this is something I did on my own. I’m an adult and I’m doing what's best for me. And, obviously, there was a reason I didn’t tell anyone. I mean, he’s- he’s not just some random guy. And what we have is… you might not understand it, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

     “I just wish you felt like you could talk to us.”

     “Yeah. Me too. Listen, I just wanted to call you to let you know that I’m fine. I don’t really know what’s next, but I’ll try to keep you updated, alright? Don’t worry about me, everything will be okay.”

      “What about all those posts about you? The things people are saying, it’s- and your safety! This is serious.”

     “Dad, I know. We are working it out, believe me. I’m just as worried as you are. I’m probably more worried. But you know what, I knew the risk in coming here, and I knew what I was doing. And I’m still glad I did it. Steve means so much to me, and I’m not gonna let this change that. But all that matters is that I’m okay. I just wanted to call you and tell you that.”

      “Well, we’re glad to hear that you’re okay. There’s just so much about you that we’re just now finding out, we have every reason to be worried.”

     “Yes, you do, and you’re right. If things were different… well. Anyways. I love you both, I’ll call you later,” you said, hanging up without waiting for them to reply.

At least that was off your plate. 

| | |

     The next morning, you woke up with Steve by your side, holding you in his arms. Needless to say, yesterday had been incredibly eventful, and by the time Steve got back home, there was nothing left to do except sleep the day off. It seemed as if your troubles were far in the past, considering how quickly everything had been handled. You had to hand it to Steve, he was the one who had to talk to so many people yesterday- legal teams, PR, his team members, just to clear the air. And of course, people were still talking about everything. But the initial shock and widespread reaction from yesterday was already beginning to calm down. It was still a bit dark in the bedroom, and Steve was still asleep, his arms wrapped around you.

     You stretched to reach your phone on the side table and started scrolling. There were still articles up and pictures of you up, but Steve was working to wipe those out to protect your privacy. You chewed on your bottom lip worriedly. Even after this was all over, you’d have to figure out what the hell you were going to do. Would you have to stop camming? Would you have to throw away all hopes of any other career as well? This was all on your mind.

     Suddenly, Steve’s hand was wrapped around your phone, pulling it out of your grasp. He sighed sleepily, his voice still groggy and deep, 

     “What’d I tell you about that?”

     “I know…” you pouted, turning to face him. His eyes were closed, but you knew he was listening. “Shouldn’t keep looking for updates.”

     “Mm,” Steve hummed. “You’ll be alright, YN. I’ll make sure of that.”

     “Promise?” you asked.

     “I promise.”

That was all the reassurance you needed for now.

     Eventually, you both woke up and got ready for the day. You weren’t doing much of anything, since you’d have to stay low for a few days. But it meant you got to be in each other’s company all day, so you weren’t exactly complaining. You were laying in between Steve’s legs on the couch, your head resting on his chest. 

     Today was supposed to be your last day, but due to recent events, there had been a change in plans. You would probably stay here until this all settled, then go back to Cali and deal with business back home. Luckily for you, your friends were supportive all the way. They were astonished and shocked of course, but incredibly happy for you. They’d be there for you just as much as Steve would. 

     “You okay, doll?” Steve asked, and you glanced up at him.

     “Good as I can be. Are you okay?” you asked.

     “Better than yesterday,” Steve chuckled, his blue eyes glimmering. “My team is still working on taking down any private information about you, by the end of this week, we should be all good-”

     “Steve,” you flopped over, straddling his legs now. Instinctively, he reached up to caress your arm and your thigh. 

     “Hmm?” he hummed, looking up at you. 

     “What happens after this? I mean, as far as I’m concerned, any hopes of getting a serious job are kind of fucked now.”

     “That’s not true,” Steve furrowed his brows, frowning. He didn’t want you to feel like this incident would mess up your whole future.

     “Steve, I majored in environmental policy. That’s like, government job type shit. I have to be someone who’s reputable. And I don’t know many people who are looking to hire a porn star sugar baby. I mean, that’s what everyone’s been calling me.”

     “But you’re not that. And once we clear up all this, I promise you, no one will think that about you. you’ Besides, Stark Industries is always looking for people like that, you could work for-”

You put your finger to his lips, shaking your head with a small smile,

     “Ah ah ah. You know I like to do things myself.”

You didn’t want to just beat around the bush and take the easy way out of all this. You liked knowing that you were accomplishing what you were accomplishing all on your own. If you worked for Steve or his team, it would just feel like giving up.

     “I know, and I love that about you. But why make things so hard on yourself?”

You shrugged,

     “I don’t see it like that. I see it like… like making my own way. You know? I’d probably be set for life if I worked for Tony Stark. But… I don’t know, it’s just a thing I have. I like to get it myself.”

Steve sighed slowly, shaking his head with a sly smile. His girl, such a go-getter. That aspect of you was honestly a turn-on for him. You didn’t want anyone to be able to say they did something major for you, and even though there were flaws within that ideology, he had to give you credit where credit was due. You were a hard worker. You liked to do things on your own and know that you were where you were because of your own discipline and hard work. Not because your boyfriend had recommended you.

     “You are something else,” Steve shook his head.

     “Mm hmm,” you grinned knowingly, stretching your hands along his chest. 

     “Listen, I can’t predict the future. But I will be there for you. And I know how much you like to hustle and do things on your own, but it’s good to accept help sometimes, doll. And I want to help you through this. Don’t think the worst of everything. You’ve always managed, even in the worst of times. This is no different. No job you apply for is going to try to judge you, I can guarantee you that. I’ll make sure of that, no matter how much you try to stop me.”

You scoffed, smirking,

      “You’re such a guy.”

      “I do it for you.”

Accepting help. Maybe Steve was right. Just because you accepted someone’s help didn’t mean you hadn’t done something on your own. And when it came to something like this, you needed all the help you could get, even if you didn’t want to admit that. It didn’t make you any less of an independent woman. 

| | |

      You woke up to thousands more follower requests the next day as you ate breakfast sitting at the kitchen counter. Steve was at the stove, finishing up his own plate, and you were chewing your eggs pensively as you scrolled through your Instagram. Ever since the day everything went down, you’d been getting a lot of attention. Most of it was honestly unwanted. Magazines you actually read were DMing you, asking to interview you, wanting the inside scoop on “the life of Captain America’s girlfriend.” You didn’t pay them any mind, because that was attention you didn’t want. You cringed to think of yourself being interviewed by a reporter about personal matters for fifteen minutes of fame. 

     But the attention wasn’t all bad, and now that you thought about it, maybe your future wouldn’t be so scary. Whether you liked it or not, you were almost like a celebrity now, and celebrities always had their scandals and their speculations, and they still got booked. Maybe this was meant to be, to steer your life in a different direction. 

     It didn’t seem ideal, and you didn’t even want fame. You certainly didn’t want to be known as “Steve Rogers’ girlfriend.” If you knew one thing, it was that you were going to make a name out of yourself before people tried to make one for you. Now that you were thinking about it, you could honestly seize this opportunity. 

     Even the sales for your clothing brand had hiked up since that day. People actually took an interest in what you had to offer, and you’d rather they take an interest in that than your personal life. You had no real interest in becoming some mystical figure or some it girl who was on Steve’s arm. You were just a regular, hardworking girl from California, and you wouldn’t lose sight of that. But if this was going to happen, you were going to take advantage of it. 

     “Steve,” you said his name, and he turned to face you, putting his plate together.

     “Yeah?”

     “Look at my Instagram,” you pointed your phone screen towards him and he squinted. “All these follower requests. And I keep getting orders, this is insane.”

Steve grinned, beaming. He was glad that something good was coming out of all this for you. He knew you didn’t want or like attention, but this went to show that all eyes on you wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He knew you knew how to flip it and turn it into something beneficial for you. You weren’t the kind of girl to bask in attention just because. You would make something out of this. 

     “I’m proud, YN, honestly. You know that’s all you, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head,

      “Kinda crazy to wrap my head around. I don’t wanna be this sensationalized person or this public figure, but, fuck. This isn’t at all how I imagined my life going. I could make something out of this. It’s such a turn around, but maybe it was supposed to happen.”

     “I’m sorry about all this unwanted attention. But if I know you, you’ll make it work.”

It was interesting, this unwanted celebrity. You had to accept that people would start to know you. You could capitalize off this and highlight your brand, make people pay attention to that instead of your private life. You could even put your studies to work and create an environmental company. You wouldn’t just work for Stark Industries, you’d create an industry of your own. Of course, this was all in theory, and you had to gather yourself before you did those things. But the fact that this was possible just because of some unwanted attention reminded you that you could always flip a bad situation into something ten times better.

| | |

     “Fuck, Steve, I can’t,” you were panting heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead as you grasped onto his biceps. 

      Safe to say, since you were laying low and there wasn’t much to do, this was a very reliable option, every time. Now that the stress of the past few days was winding down, you were finally able to focus on what you had both been neglecting, which was each other’s bodies. Every time Steve was inside you, it was as good as the first time, if not better. You’d been going at it for hours now, partially because Steve didn’t have anything else to do and his endurance was ridiculous. You almost wanted to slap his pretty face for being able to go so long like this, drawing out your pain and your pleasure so effortlessly, only to kiss his cheek afterwards. 

     “Yes you can, doll, I know you can,” Steve said, not nearly as breathless as you were— it was safe to say sex with Steve was a workout. “Come for me just one more time.”

     “Mm,” you whined, lifting yourself up with the help of Steve’s hands clasped beneath your shaking thighs, feeling him shift inside you. You cursed, biting down on your lip and glancing down at where you two met with your brows wrung together. 

You were a mess. Both you and Steve had already came multiple times, but Steve wasn’t in a rush. He was honestly handcrafted by the devil. And since you were together, Steve had grown so much more confident. You switched in bed, sometimes you took the lead and sometimes Steve did, and sometimes it wasn’t about who was in the lead. But right now, Steve had you about to beg for mercy. 

     “Fuck, that looks so good, just watching me stretch you out like that,” Steve groaned, his eyes lowering to watch you slowly drop up and down on his cock, which was coated in your slick arousal. “You like this? Riding me for hours, coming over and over again on my cock?”

You shuddered with an almost humiliating moan, nodding your head because you weren’t able to speak. But Steve wasn’t letting you off that easy. He gripped your jaw with his hand, prying your mouth open.

      “Use your words,” he said, nodding slowly and mouthing ‘yes.’

      “Yes,” you stuttered out, feeling as Steve pulsed inside of you. You sounded ridiculous, pathetic, and you knew you looked absolutely filthy in the best way possible. You began to ramble. “Yes, yes, I love when you take me like this and— fuck— force me to come for you.”

     “Mmm,” Steve hummed like he was taking your words into consideration, mulling it over in his mind. “Yeah. You love this. You look so pretty like this.”

Pretty wasn’t the word you’d use to describe it. It was messy. You were practically drooling, and your body felt as exposed as it had ever been. Steve’s own cum from the previous times he came was pouring out of you each time you slid down onto him, and you were incredibly wet still. The sound your bodies made meeting was almost criminal. You were hot and sticky and sweaty and still somehow ridiculously gorgeous to Steve, and you looked even better when he was torturing you with pleasure. 

     You gasped raggedly when Steve had the audacity to bring his fingers down to your clit, those thick, unforgettable fingers that he used to stretch you out every time before you took his cock, rubbing harsh circles against your sensitive clit. Your whole body seemed to shudder, and Steve chuckled lowly, not even trying to hide the smirk that appeared on his face. Oh, you would so be getting him back for this. 

     “That feel good, doll?”

     “Fuck,” you whined, your hand flinging to his wrist to keep his fingers there doing the same motion. 

      Your body seemed to tighten and coil up, your eyes squeezing shut before you let go, and before you knew it, you were cumming on his cock. Or more like squirting, the way it seemed never ending and made your whole body convulse. Steve groaned as you soaked his torso and his legs, stilling yourself on his length and riding your orgasm out. He must have come inside you a few times while you were squirting. Wet tears, the good, hot kind, were forming down your cheeks as you come for what feels like the hundredth time in the span of a few slow, tantalizing hours. 

      “There you go, darling, I knew you could do it,” Steve finally pulled out of you, still hard against his stomach. He reached up and wiped the tears off your face. “Now do that again on my face.”

Fuck. You’d get him back another day.

| | |

      “Oh fuck, right there,” you sighed in ecstasy. 

     Steve’s hands were kneading into your back with expertise. He seemed to know just what he was doing, relieving all the tension from your spine and shoulders, and god knows you needed it. It had been about a week since the news came out, and everything seemed much less urgent now. 

     Reports about you two were dwindling, especially because you had stayed lowkey and didn’t flaunt your relationship about town. But it was almost freeing that you had the liberty to do so now, even if your relationship had been unfairly exposed. At least now, you could go out together without wondering if you’d get caught. 

     Steve chuckled and finished up, rolling off of you and facing you on the bed, his eyes glittering as he smiled at you. 

      “You know,” you started, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek. “I’m kinda glad this all happened. Is that selfish?” 

      “No,” Steve grinned, shaking his head and reveling in the touch of your hand on his cheek. He grasped your wrist, gazing into your eyes. 

      These past few months had been such a whirlwind for the both of you. The both of you were doing things that surprised you, that made you endlessly happy. Steve had never felt more grateful for anything or anyone in his life. You helped him grow, and he did the same for you. He couldn’t see his future without you, and he didn’t even want to imagine it. He knew you were irreplaceable, he knew this was meant to be. Your odd circumstances and the unconventional way you met seemed to emphasize that truth. There was a reason why he had been so blue without you, and there was a reason why he had come back. Deep down, he knew all along that it was worth it, that you were worth it. Nothing else had ever been so clear to him, especially in that moment, gazing into your deep, warm eyes. 

His heart blossomed with that irrevocable feeling, and before he could stop himself, the words were bubbling out of his mouth, 

      “I love you.”

You didn’t have to think, didn’t have to second guess yourself before you replied. You knew it all along, it was just a matter of time before one of you actually said it. And now, after you’d been through so much together, after you’d taught each other so much, and healed from so much as a collective, there was no reluctance. You weren’t scared to admit that it was true.

      “I love you,” you said, with a soft grin and a dreamy look in your eyes.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there together, looking at each other and kissing and holding each other, but it was enough time to make you forget the world. 

ayeeee!!! as a bonus, i’m including this lil thing i made, it’s supposed to be what i imagine moonrose’s IG to look like! the pictures are not her faceclaims, they’re just black women that i imagine moonrose to look like LMAO but she’s free to look like whatever u want her to ♡ this is her aesthetic!!

ENJOY! new chapter soon hopefully!!!!

tags added later ♡ 

[misskatebishop]

Make my messes matter

Word count: 2090

Pairing: Steve x Tony

Warning: Hurt/Comfort.

Summary: Tony has a bad day at home and Steve comforts him.

Tony rests his head against the cold metal, holding tightly his bag against his chest. He closes his eyes while the music fills his surroundings. It’s almost midnight and he has nowhere to go. Nowhere to sleep. Tony feels the tears prick his eyes, biting his lower lip to not allow a sob to come out. He’ll not cry. Not anymore.

He didn’t do anything wrong, but Howard never believes him. Not surprising, though. Yet, being kicked out of the house wasn’t something he was expecting. Of course, he had plans to move out from his parents long ago, but he’d never put them in order. He hoped that he would have more time. More time to build and secure life for himself. A life where he wouldn’t need Howard’s money to survive. But at 18, life isn’t what anyone expects it to be.

It’s a funny and ironic story that he wanted to grow up when he was a kid, and now he wishes he was a kid again. He wishes he didn’t have to worry so much or feel so overwhelmed at such a young age. But he’s Tony Stark and people expect better of him. They expect too much when all Tony wants is to work on his own projects. He wasn’t ready to assume a high post in his father’s company. Not yet. There was so much he wanted to do.

So many places to go. So many things to see, to listen to, to touch, to know. He didn’t want to spend his life in an office, barking orders around, filing paperwork. He wanted so much more to himself. Of course, Howard couldn’t see it that way. He said he was tired of Tony’s excuses to assume his place in the world, he was tired of having supported him his entire life, just for Tony to refuse when he’s offered the post of director in the R&D department. In fact, he’s tired of Tony. He’s been tired of his son long ago. And Tony was tired of living from crumbs. Crumbs of love. That’s not what life is supposed to be.

After Maria’s death, things just got worse. Howard became a constant burden on his shoulders, always asking and demanding more of him. As if he could never be enough. As if Howard had fed him his entire life just to reap the fruits of his work now. As if Tony owes him an entire life and that he should be paying back now. Tony couldn’t see an exit to himself. He couldn’t see a light out of that. He felt like a bird constantly locked in a cage. Unable to sing his beauty. To become what he was born to: fly freely. Spreading beauty in the world.

But Howard could never understand the meaning of such simple words as no, or I’m not ready or give me more time. He crushed Tony into expectations that he may never be capable of achieving. It hurts. So after being hit, insulted, mocked, he was done, then Howard screamed for him to get the hell out of his house. His house, he emphasized. After all, Tony couldn’t be more than a mere tenant living under his father’s roof while he worked out his life.

Fuck.

He’s so fucked up.

The automatic voice sounds inside the train, letting him know that he will descend in the next station. Tony sighs, looking at the empty wagon. There is some freedom in it, to be able to walk away and don’t look back. To be able to follow his own path. But for an eighteen-year-old, unemployed, and who just had graduated, freedom is always frightening. There isn’t any expectation of life. What could he do? He’d had to work his way out of this. To start job-hunting, and conciliate it with his master’s degree, which he just had been admitted to. Scary. Terrifying. So lost.

No prospect of life. No home. Just a few banknotes and his credit cards in his wallet. A couple of clothes in his bag. Nothing to offer. Why would someone take pity on him? Why would someone take him in?

Tony tucks his headphones inside his bag, holding on a post as the rails brakes, the sound is almost comforting for the fact that tonight he has a destination in mind. Tomorrow, he will think about somewhere else. But for tonight, he prays that he can count on Steve.

For his misfortune, Howard chose to kick him out at the moment that his closest friends were far away. He didn’t know Rhodey’s location since he was on a mission for the Air Force, and Pepper was in Vancouver for the next three months. He had nowhere to go, but Steve’s.

Tony was afraid of how Steve would react when he knocked on his door at… Tony glances down at his phone, 12:41 a.m. He had hung out with Steve before, he could say that they were friends. Steve is a good friend, actually, but Tony feels more for him than he’s able to voice and since he had embarrassed Steve at a party weeks ago, when he vomited on his shoes after drinking too much, then told him he loved him in front of everyone since then Tony hasn’t answered his calls or texts until he finally stopped receiving them.

Fate is a bitch, though, and here he is asking for shelter for the very same man.

Tony strides through the streets of Brooklyn, he doesn’t know the neighborhood very well, but he knows where Steve’s building is. Tony gasps, rubbing his hands together to warm them up a little bit. It’s November, but the weather gets especially cold at night. He can see his breath whenever he exhales. Tony hurries up the stairs, getting breathless easily due to his heart condition. At least, he’d remembered to pack his medication, only enough for the next two months, though.

Because being homeless and unemployed is not enough in his list of failures, he also had to have a chronic illness.

Tony stops before the door with the number 13. He raises a fist, taking a deep breath. Steve must be sleeping, and he hates the fact that he is about to disturb him. Tony looks at the stairs again, thinking that he could wait there until morning, but Steve would be mad if he knew that Tony didn’t call him. Tony knocks hard. Harder than he should. Maybe, he should call Steve’s phone, although, after weeks without any news from him, it would look weird. It was already weird standing here in the middle of the night after confessing. Tony raises a fist again, wondering if Steve would really get up and check the door but before he could knock again, the door opens.

“Tony?” Steve frowns, staring at him. He rubs his beautiful eyes. Tony feels helpless, unable to acknowledge the emotions in his features, he can’t tell what Steve might be thinking just looking at his face.

“Steve, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, I-” Tony starts to say.

“You didn’t. I was watching a movie,” Steve says, looking at both sides of the corridor before stepping aside. “Come in.”

Tony does. Steve locks the door behind him, throwing the keys on the kitchen counter. His apartment is small, but it’s cozy and it serves Steve well. It feels warm inside here.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Steve takes Tony's bag from his shoulder, putting it on the couch. Tony sees a movie he doesn’t know playing on the TV and a blanket and cushions on the couch. “Are you hurt?” Steve’s blue eyes scan him from top to bottom.

“No. I-I am fine,” Tony assures him.

“C’mon here. You must be cold,” Steve goes to the kitchen, and Tony follows him timidly. “It’s still hot, I made it minutes ago.” Steve hands him a mug filled with hot chocolate. It smells so good and tastes incredible when Tony takes a sip. “Nothing better than hot chocolate to warm you up,” Steve smiles.

Tony agrees, adding in his mind that there’s nothing better than hot chocolate to push away the distress in his chest. Tony rubs his eyes, feeling them dry for the fact that he had cried earlier, and Steve must’ve noticed how red and swollen they are because he asks again:

“What happened, Tony?”

Tony ponders if he should tell the truth or just invent an excuse. He ends up with the truth because it’s Steve, and he hates lying to Steve.

“My father kicked me out. I have nowhere to go.”

Steve looks… He doesn’t know how Steve looks. Pitiful? Sad? Relieved? It’s hard to know. Steve is only three years older than him; they met in an art exposition months ago in the National Academy School of Fine Arts. Pepper is passionate about Arts, and she dragged Tony along that day. It was his lucky day that Steve was exposing his work there, they ended up talking and exchanging phone numbers. After that, Tony asked him out to a few parties, one of which embarrassed Steve in front of everyone. He couldn't forget about that. But nothing really happened between the two of them, except for some stares and slight brushing of hands.

“I’m sorry, Tony.”

“I don’t wanna bother you, but--”

“Of course you can stay, Tony,” Steve cuts him off, walking in his direction.

“Oh,” Tony lets out when Steve's big arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug. “It feels nice.” Well, Tony didn’t have the intention to say it out loud. He steps back, breaking the hug. “I-I-” what?

“Yes, it felt nice, too,” Steve looks almost fond of him, but… Tony didn’t want to get attached. He couldn’t, what if Steve didn’t love him? Tony feels already loveless. He couldn’t bear the thought of being fed with crumbs again.

“Thanks,” Tony says, he passes through Steve to wash his now empty mug. “I really appreciate it. I didn’t think you would take me in after that party.”

Steve comes to his side, a frown on his face.

“What? Why?”

“I-I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I literally threw up on your shoes, then I--” Tony stutters nervously because he always feels nervous next to Steve. The blond always gives him butterflies in the stomach, he just can’t help it.

“Oh, no. Why,” Steve shakes his head, looking confused. “Why would you think that, Tony? You almost passed out. You leaned on me all the way back. Why would you think I was mad at you?”

“Why would you not?” Tony blurted out. “You took me to my house, and I--” Tony breathes deeply. “I thought I had embarrassed you in front of your friends, I made a scene, and I told you--” he stutters. “I-I didn’t want to make it weird to you. I understand if you--” Tony shakes his head, gulping. He couldn't help but frown when Steve laughed.

“I was more worried about you than embarrassed. Trust me, Tony. You didn’t call me to tell me you were okay the next morning. I was worried. You didn’t answer my calls either. I thought you had changed your mind about what you said,” Steve sounds… sorrowful.

Tony blinks. He really thought Steve was mad at him, he really thought… Did he really misunderstand it all? It wasn’t possible, right? Steve was just being his usual self, kind and nice. He couldn’t really...

“Wait, you…” Tony points to Steve.

“You didn’t embarrass me,” Steve shrugs. “I love you, too. I called to tell you that but you didn’t answer me.”

“I--”

Tony wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, tiptoeing to reach his lips, aware of Steve’s hands sliding to his waist to support him. Tony tastes the hot chocolate in Steve’s mouth, and it somehow suits him because Steve smells like home. Everything about Steve is cozy, lovely, and adorable. Tony feels a warmth flowing through his body, the feeling of safety invades him. He knows he can trust Steve, somehow, he knows, he wants to believe that Steve will not abandon him. Perhaps, that’s a love that he can let himself get attached to.

Steve breaks the kiss, still keeping Tony in his tight embrace.

Tony rests his head against Steve’s chest. “You can stay for as long as you need, Tony,” Steve kisses the top of his head. “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #388

“i wanna stay inside all day  /  i want the world to go away  /  i want blood, guts, and chocolate cake  /  i wanna be a real fake”

Name three people who you'll never forget: I doubt I'd forget Jason even if, God forbid, I had dementia. That's trauma for ya. I HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHLY doubt I could EVER forget my mom, either. In many different ways, she's literally kept me alive and has done so, so much for me. Then there's also Sara, whose friendship with me matches no one else I've been friends with. Have you ever been told you are fake? No. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy, my dog. Do you like pineapple? I do. When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? I know this sounds seriously depressing, but that's... pretty much every day. My life is just currently such a drag that being awake bores me senseless. But it's funny, because then some nights I stay up late for like... no reason. My existence alone is confusing. Is there any specific number that has any significance to you? No. Do you remember much from high school? I remember a lot from high school. Where would you go for the ultimate honeymoon? Isn't there a black sand beach in Iceland or something? Take me there, man. I'd also love to go to the Bahamas, but ew humidity and also I'm afraid of the Bermuda Triangle lmfao. If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you get? The big piece I want to get on my left upper arm; it's called "Denialism" by NukeRooster on deviantART. I got her permission forever ago to get it tattooed. Do you have any alarms set? What time and what for? Not currently. Have you ever had to work while there was a film crew at your work place? No. Have you ever supported anyone’s Kickstarter? If so, what was it? No. What do you like in your omelet? Ham pieces and cheese. Have you ever boycotted something? Yes: Chick-fil-A. Homophobic, transphobic pieces of shit aren't getting my business. Has anyone ever borrowed something from you, and not returned it? Yes. Most notably a video game I LOOOOVED as a kid. I was mad salty and still am lmao. Do you vent a lot on social media? God no, not anymore after embarrassing the everliving FUCK out of myself with a suicide note. What was your first bill you started paying on your own? I don't pay any bills bc unemployed. .-. Do you watch ASMR videos? No. What is your favorite charitable cause to donate to or volunteer for? The Trevor Project. Have you ever received a misdiagnosis? Yes. A psychiatrist I had in middle school thought I had ADHD, which was ABSOLUTELY ludicrous. Most recently, my long-time bipolar 2 diagnosis has been questioned, but I do think I have it. I think. Does it bother you when others don’t share the same religious beliefs as you? No? Freedom of religion is a thing. What was your last argument about? Ummmm... I don't remember. Probably something with Mom. Have you found your first gray hairs yet? No. Somehow. You'd think all the stress would have me pure gray by now, lol. What are the names of all the pets you’ve had? Dude, I've had WAY too many for this. What’s the most you’ve ever spent on a cosmetic or skincare product? *shrug* Who was the last person that invited you to go somewhere? Did you accept? Mom invited me to come with her to Nicole's to get out of the house because at the time our A/C was still out. I didn't want to go, even though damn did I suffer, haha. What was the last food item that you toasted, other than bread? That's... a great question. I don't know if I toast anything other than bread. Have you ever named any of your pets after a cartoon character? I remember I had a cat named Taz when I was younger. What was the last thing that someone else recommended, or suggested you try? My TMS doctor is like SUPER friendly and makes the treatment go by so fast (it's exactly 22 minutes and 30 seconds; don't ask why), and recently she was fangirling to Mom and me about the show Once Upon a Time, haha. I saw very little of it with Jason, but Mom did check it out. When was the last time you wore a hat? What kind? I have zero idea. When was the last time you ate a bowl of ice-cream? What flavour? Oh wow, it's been a long time. It was probably vanilla with chocolate syrup? If you menstruate, has your cycle ever synced with anyone close to you? Yes. Tell me something positive about the town or city that you live in. ... You said "positive," right? Did your parents have high expectations for you to excel in school and go to college/university? Yes. They were pretty serious about going to college when my sisters and I were younger, but they opened up to the concept that maybe it wasn't for all of us (coughmecough). Are you a polite person? I genuinely think I am. I definitely try to be. Have you ever been in a relationship where everything with your partner felt natural and effortless? Sigh. Yeah. Have you ever been in a relationship where everything was difficult and rocky? No. That's not the kind I'd stay in very long at all. I mean yes, there are always bumps, but there comes a point where you gotta say fuck nah and find something better. When you were a teenager, did your parents set rules about dating? Other than keeping age gaps in mind, no. Have you ever committed a crime that directly harmed another person? No. Did you grow up in an urban, suburban, or rural area? My childhood home was suburban, but leaned towards rural. We were on the very edge of the town. Which disease do you personally think is the most horrible? After seeing my mother suffer from borderline stage 4 ovarian cancer, I've gotta say cancer. My mother is the strongest person I know and yet she cried so frequently from chemotherapy. It broke my fucking heart. The person I copied the survey from mentioned especially childhood cancers, and I have to agree. Like just... why. "Everything happens for a reason." Bull. Fucking. Shit. Just TRY and convince me why a young child has to deal with CANCER. Do you remember where you first drove to after getting your license? I still don't have my license, as I've said in many a survey before. What did you get into trouble for the most when you were a kid? Being on the computer too much. What is your biological sex? Female. Do you use online dating? Or do you use another method for finding dates? Nah. I'm at the point in my life where I wanna let love just find me and not actively search for it. What is the oldest gaming console you own? We MIGHT still have our old Atari? If not, it'd be a GameBoy Advance. Which accents can you emulate pretty well? Just British. Do you think you'll ever manage to do everything you want to? No. But then again, I think that sounds pretty realistic? I doubt most people check off everything on their bucket list. What do you fear most? Probably becoming truly homeless, living on the streets. Do you wear shoes around the house? No. Are you a good driver? If you can't drive yet, do you think you'll be good? I mean, I'm not the worst in the world. My mom's always pointed out though that I ride on the brakes (which I do out of fear) and I tend to speed up and slow down quite a bit. I also stop kinda abruptly sometimes. What is/was your favorite thing about school? Seeing friends. What are you most likely to spend money on? My own personal money, tattoos, lol. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? @_@ Do you hate how, when the public like a celebrity, they overpublicize them? I feel bad for them, more than anything. You breathe wrong and suddenly it's news-worthy. It's like your every inconsequential action is under heavy surveillance and judgment, and it seems so unfair. Have you ever became attracted to someone you weren’t at first because their personality made you find them physically attractive? That was Jason for me. I never thought he was ugly, but regardless, he became THE most attractive man in the world to me. Have you ever worked in retail? Yes. -_- Are you even a little bit racist? Nah man, it's 2021, baby. Were you more fond of swings, monkey bars, or seesaws as a child? I was all about the swings. Do you believe in a near-future apocalyptic event? I don't know or care, honestly. A gamma ray or whatever they're called could incinerate us all tomorrow. A black hole could swallow the earth in an hour. We don't know. Do you have a chandelier in your home? No. Do you have a bar with stools? No. Is your Christmas tree faux or real? If faux, what color? We use a fake green one. Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Yes; it's the first part I eat. Which body type would you say you had? Did you know whales can survive on land? :^) Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah! I used to LOVE doing that with Dad as a kid when the field across our house wasn't in use (tobacco was grown there). What’s your preferred flavour of jam? I just like grape. What kind of animal did you last pet? My cat! Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: I massively admire Jeffree Star's work ethic. Do you prefer to shave or wax? Shave. I used to wax my eyebrows, but now I just don't care. Would you ever have sex in a public place? Uh, no. Do you think Jenna Marbles’ videos are funny? I've actually never watched her. Your favourite pasta dish: Just your normal spaghetti with meatballs. Strangest thing you’ve ever seen? Probably what I'm assuming was a star (but it was green???) flickering and then fizzling out of the sky kind of like some sort of backwards firework. I'd been watching it literally grow over a few nights, so when this happened, it was a big "?????? the fuck??????". It honestly scared me for some reason so I went inside after that. Aliens? I say aliens. Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? Yes. Has anybody ever called you a bastard? I don't think so. Who is the last person you ignored? uhhhhhhh Would you wear feathers in your hair? So actually, for my first prom, I wanted to wear a blue jay feather I had in my hair, reason being Jason's nickname from his parents was always "J Bird." It ended up not working out because we couldn't make it look natural with what we had. When was the last time you were well and truly scared? Hm. Favourite member of your favourite band: Ozzy, obviously, haha. Who’s your favourite female rapper? I don't have one.

[steponmepinkjun]

oh right yall actually call it mcdonalds over there thats crazy. way too many syllables. but yeah while we know felix as the bright and cute boy who becomes friends with everyone, theres no way he'd be able to keep that up in customer service. no one can. mf will instantly revert to the dark and intimidating image they tried to give him in the earlier eras bc of his deep voice. ppl pull up at the drive through and he just goes "hi ok what do you want." even the brightest people i know dampen as soon as they step foot into a maccas they work at, that shit is soul-sucking. that being said i do see him having fun bullying the managers into liking him bc thats what the eshays do and somehow it works. they just be a shit but get away with it cause theyre hot. i see this so vividly you dont understand maccas!felix was real i swear it

HYPEBEAST WANNABE HOODRAT THATS IT THATS ESHAYS straight up better wording than i could explain it lmfao. BUT YOU SEE IT NOW LIKE i hate eshays and i love my boys but i See It. besides teenagers are constantly tryna be people theyre not just to fit in so its not really a stretch for such a drastic change to happen in their personalities like it couldve totally happened i can see it. except chan left aus at like 13 so he was probs actually just an eshay in the making that never went through the full conversion LMAOOO

OK BUT LIKE THATS SO VALID OF YOU QUEEN... KNOW YOUR WORTH.... thats not stupid at all imo i actually feel the same for the most part. like yes i get all sulky when i realise people dont like me or whatever but thats only bc i Know im that bitch and i Know im worth it. worth more. i be all "hhuuu i want an s/o :((" but as soon as someone Breathes in my direction im like hmmm youre okay and objectively worth my time but i can do Better. can i actually do better? who knows! i dont go outside often enough to find out my ass is unemployed w like 2 friends lmAOoo but thank you, the reassurance does help, esp from a stranger on the internet who isnt like. incredibly biased LOL "I have genuinely spent the better part of several days looking forward to you possibly sending me more messages" that shit hurted. on god that shit hurted im !!!!! glad i could make your days at least somewhat more entertaining, you've definitely made mine. i laughed way too hard at your descriptions on how youd go off at a bitch who tries to slander the homies lmAOOO i felt that shit in my soul tho like if ppl hurt me ill be like well fuck you too bro but ppl even just give my friends a slightly less than ideal vibe i will physically manifest in their doorway at ass o clock in the morning and make sure they'll have nightmares about me for the next six years. genuinely considering jumping bitches for the homies at some point but quickly remembered i am a Noodle and will get my ass kicked. this is why i wanna take up martial arts no one will be able to stop me then. im here for skz bodyguard sara tho like go clock some sasaengs bitch!! ill hold your hoops girl go gettem!! in my experience skz havent actually had many bad sasaeng cases like most groups - probs bc theyre one of the few that dont really shove the whole 'boyfriend image' down your throats, cause their target audience is wider than just young women - but ppl do be getting real creepy w their families n shit like. chris's sister got a tiktok and shes still a minor and people were making some creepy ass comments about her and some even fucking shipping her with felix which is straight up disgusting, so like i might just take up hacking as a side gig so i can drop the addresses of these bitches and all the bullies who gave chan shit in school and you can go ham. team effort 🤝🤝

YOURE 5'8??? ok thats tall for me but thats literally like an inch taller than chan and felix GIRL you are not the giant you think you are. okay maybe if you wore platforms. you give me the energy of someone who would wear those like massive ass platform stripper heels just to assert ur dominance over them weak ass "alpha male" type guys who constantly need to be the tallest in the room. thats very powerful energy u got there im jealous, my 5'2 ass gonna be looking like an angry kitten tryna square up to someone and steal their kneecaps. how changbin is like short as hell for a cis dude and still manages to give off such strong vibes is a mystery to me. give me your secret, seo changbin. -felix bi anon

I s2g I pull up to the drive thru and see Felix and suddenly I'm a sugar momma w money to spare 😂 suddenly I'm "lemme treat you" vibes, suddenly I'm "lemme take you away from this life" energy, suddenly I'm talking him away from the deep fryer like I'm hostage negotiation, suddenly I'm picking him up after his shift and taking him to the Olive Garden on some "see honey, you ain't built for this hustle, you a classy broad, lemme show you the finer things in life 😌" ordering another $2.50 appetizer like I'm Somebody jshwjwjsjjd no but like ACTUALLY.... I S2G I have met, worked with, and cherished retail!Felix many times over my many years in crustomer service and I KNOW he's the cute lil burnout who won't hesitate to help you with closing duties, is always down to take an extra break w you to smoke you out and is universally beloved by all customers but absolutely hides in the walk in cooler every chance he gets. Retail will suck the fuckin soul out of you in the worst way I s2g, but I think Felix would be the type that's sweet as hell on the outside, but the second he's in the break room he pops OFF 😂 in that sense we'd def get along. Everyone needs their Sunshine Coworker. Personally I see Felix as the type that would be soo good at commission based retail, like he smiles and you melt, so you just get put under his spell immediately. He's also pays so much attention to detail that'd he'd know every detail of every product and be a killer salesman. And the idea of Felix just walking around all casual-like in a suit while he's selling fancy watches or some shit 😳 wit his lil bougie ass lmfao. And I just know that 3Racha work at Chipotle or somethin together and are CHAOTIC AS FUCK. Like the manager tries their hardest not to schedule them together because they're so off the rails together 😂 or probably like a skate shop or something.... Yeah very much that. Hyunjin would work at Sephora or the Guerlain or Tom Ford counter at a high end department store and you cannot change my mind. One time i saw someone say that if Innie wasn't in skz he'd be unemployed asf and I was like DAAAAMN WHY YOU GOTTA DO MY BOY LIKE THAT 😭 JUST CAUSE HES AN AQUARIUS SO HES A LIL SPACEY AND CHAOTIC LMFAO LET HIM LIVE 😭😭😭

LMFAOOO MANIFEST IN THEIR DOORWAY AT ASS O'CLOCK LMFAOOO YALL HEARD IT HERE, YOU TALK SHIT ON SKZ AND FELIX BI ANON IMMEDIATELY ASSIGNS THEMSELF AS YOUR SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON 😂 VALID ASF, GET THEY ASS

OK no like on God I would actually have to smack a bitch for that kind of shit. His little sister?! Like Jesus fuck people are SICK AND TWISTED, SICK AND TWISTED... I'VE HAD IT OFFICIALLY.... I literally always forget any of them have siblings like in my mind they all crawled out of a little dewdrop-covered flower in a fantasy land forest, the idea that they are Actual Humans that were like born n stuff conflicts with how perfect they are, my gene pool could NEVA. That's so fucked though like.... Please some people really do be reading way too much fanfiction, that's straight up weirdo behavior, thats goon shit. That's get your ass beat with a quickness type shit, that's really "I will physically punt you like a fuckin football straight out your own window so you can be forcefully made to touch some fuckin grass" shit. I feel like I do love a lot of aspects of fandom, and I've been around the block and then some fandom wise (I was a part of the OG twilight fandom before the movies even came out... I have seen some DEMONS.....) but I def can't engage w most people in kpop fandoms. There's just like a weirdness to the amount of total disconnect w reality that they seem to think is normal behavior. A lot of weird performative activism shit that's totally unrelated to the topic, like I literally came out here to have a good time, not watch yall force some lil kid to speak on an issue they're not qualified to speak on and then attack them for being ignorant... And a lot of these people are KIDS, like straight up 14 year olds out here starting drama and mess. And don't get me wrong, I'm a messy bitch that lives for drama! But to come out w the most unabashedly psychotic and chronically online take of all time, and then when someone checks you for being a fuckin weirdo to scream "I'm a minor and your bullying me!!!" first of all if you don't get your ass on the fuckin school bus 🙄 why the hell you online when you have math homework? Take all the energy you're pouring into the internet and pour it into your school's yearbook committee or somethin, worry about your GRADES before you worry about your bias, child 🙄 and then it's hella animosity cause I'm "too old to be a fan" like baybeeeee, I don't know how to break this to you, but who do you think has the money to buy all this merch? You think they set these price points with your parents spare change in mind? You think your allowance is what pay their bills??? You think you're bankrolling the whole operation with your lunch money???? Peep the merch that costs one of my whole paychecks after shipping and tell me I'm too old to be a fan 🙄 it's not my fault that these idols couldn't hug you even if they canted to cause they'd catch a case, whereas I've been alive long enough to cook them dinner and give them life advise. I am SAGE, I am WISE, ya buncha fetuses 😂 And the idols that are my age? BAYBEE if you think Wonho gonna holla at a high school girl you are absolutely 1000% trippin 🙄 but I digress, cause I go feral for that man, oof 🥴 very much WOOF WOOF BARK BARK for that mans. But anyways. Yeah lemme find the names of anyone who was ever mean to the boys and suddenly it's "Alexa, play 'Pull Up' by Cardi B."

LMFAO THATS LITERALLY SO FUNNY CAUSE LIKE when I used to go out on the town n whatnot 😌 back in my stunt queen days 😌 I used to wear either these huge platform creepers covered in 2inch spikes that were sharp as hell, or I'd wear these 8inch stripper heels 😂 cause make no mistake, there's a reason strippers wear them, they comfy as HELL and even when I was drunk asf I never tripped or fell over lmfaooooo. Honestly tho like it's very much Leo energy for Changbin. I felt in my soul he was a Leo before I looked up the boys signs, he just has absolute "the world is a stage and I am THE lead role, bitch, whether you like it or not, yall can't TAKE ME" energy it's insane. I mean, as he should, like, it's very justified. They all embody their signs so well it like trips me out. I die for it, but I also die because of it. How they get anything done with three fuckin virgos tho, I will never understand 😂

[dearholly]

Dear Me,

I know why you’re here and I’m not mad. I’m not disappointed. Read this and then go rest. And please be gentle on yourself. 

We met at Macy's and immediately hit it off. I think it was a dark sense of humor and a fluency in sarcasm that first bonded us. She was amused and seemingly rapt by everything I had to say. When I eventually left Macy's for a work-at-home job listening to sales calls, I brought her with me. And because he was unemployed, her ex-boyfriend/roommate came with us as well.

They had dated in high school but had long since broken up although hey were still living together in her parent's house after his parents moved to Hawaii without him. I got to know him more when we started at our new positions. As a telecommuting job, here were a lot of opportunities for us to bond over instant messenger. He had a raw, vulnerable quality that drew me to him and I enjoyed how open and free I could be with him. He didn't seem to mind the darker parts of my humor and we bonded over a love of cars and photography.

The first tear in the fabric of everything is, I think, when I admitted to to my husband that I thought I had feelings for Her. He sexualized this confession and internalized it as permission for himself to be attracted to her, which in short turn he started to act on. In some ways, I knew that would happen but but I was terrified of my feelings. I didn't know exactly what I wanted, just that I wanted something else. Something more than what I had. On some level, I believe that I wanted her. But I let my fear and submissiveness get the better of me and chose to put my needs aside for what my husband wanted, which at the time seemed more manageable for me than having to deal with my own inner turmoil.

Throughout their entire flirtation in the beginning, she never came to me to tell me what was going on, or to question it. To this day, I don't even know if she asked my husband whether or not I knew. It might be the years that have since passed shading my opinions in this matter, but I don't believe she ever did ask him. I eventually did come to her to tell her what was going on, but I don't believe that I ever really trusted her again after that, despite our friendship continuing for another five years.

Years later, when I would say all of this out loud to a therapist, I would realize what a hard time I have accepting and advocating for my own feelings. Looking back now, I can tell you I was deeply hurt and extremely angry.

Which is probably what lead me to sleep with Him, her ex-boyfriend slash roommate, on the same night she first slept with my husband. And I did not afford her the same foreknowledge that I had.

But it wasn't all vindication. He and I had been getting very close. We worked together on a wedding I shot in Malibu. I'll never forget when we had some free time in between getting shots and we drove down to the beachier part of the beach to look for some locations to shoot the couple later. It was raining and the beach was empty, so he told me to take the car onto the sand, assuring me that it'd be fine. He was something of an expert on cars, after all. The front tires almost immediately sunk into the sand and we got stuck. As panic mounted in both of us, a friendly gentleman in a Nissan Xterra came by and offered assistance. With some pushing and revving, the car was unstuck. After our Samaritan drove off, He turned to me to apologize and wrapped his arms around me. There's something about being hugged by a person who is much taller than you. In that moment, I fell in love with him. His easy free affection was all it took.

And she had no clue about any of it because I did not do the courtesy of cluing her in. This is what is so dangerous about people who are not even aware of the emotions they're having.

Also, I knew that she would cock block. So the night that she came to my house to fuck my husband, I set up a little date with her ex boyfriend. I took him to a local bar, and explained what was happening with Her and my husband. And then I told him, "But I am here with you." Couldn't keep our hands off each other after that.

I didn't tell her until after the fact and I am positive that there was never a moment after that that she fully trusted me either. We cursed ourselves from the very beginning. And then made things truly awkward by attempting to have a four-way.

They say ignorance is bliss, but denial is true euphoria. And that is where we lived for the next 6 years. We changed our state abbreviation from CA to WA, but we lived in the same place, ignoring red flag after red flag. The chemistry was just bad. But we plundered ahead, all four of us. And when three of us lost our telecommuting jobs, it was Him that found us work again.

I hated the idea from the very beginning (red flag) but said nothing. I resented that he got her a job at the same place he'd gotten me a job and that she'd be starting the day after me, leaving me no time at all to have this one thing for myself. I knew even then that working and living with her would turn out to be a problem. And it did; when something bad happened at work, there was no escape from it at home. When something bad happened at home, there was no escape from it at work. Even though we were on opposite ends of the house, there was just no escaping it. When she was upset, there was a toxic cloud that hung over the whole house. It seeped into everything and was unescapable. It left no room for anyone else to take up any emotional space.

After a while, I stopped getting a period. But because I was living on Denial St, I ignored it for over a year. My doctors wholly admitted that they have no idea how this could have happened at such an early point in my life, but all of them speculated stress, both physical and mental. Prior to losing my period, I had lost a great deal of weight in a small time by over-exercising and under-eating. I was starving myself and then working myself to the point of exhaustion, and if this were the cause of my early menopause, I would not be surprised to find that out.

However, there was no space in my home to have any feelings about this. Because I was of a mind to never have children anyway, it was easy for most people to minimize how deeply it was affecting me, and ignore the active signs that it was doing so. And I never talked about. The feelings were too confusing, too mixed up, to talk about. I didn't understand them myself and there was no room to figure them out there.

A couple months after I got my menopause diagnosis, I started having regular panic attacks. She is the one who suggested I speak to a therapist. She's the one who recommended my first one, actually. And I am still glad that she did. My life really started to turn around at that point. I started in May of that year and by the end of the summer, I had finalized my divorce and moved into my own apartment. And later that year, I started anti depressants.

It is my belief that all of the improvements and growth in my life are what lead she and I to have our initial falling out that next Spring. Through therapy, and medication, and meditation, and all the other ways in which I was working on improving myself, I did eventually grow strong. And so did my boundaries. I started saying "No." more and "Sorry" less. And I stopped accepting unnecessary bullshit that was launched in my direction.

Especially when it is in a shared space in which professionalism is mandatory. After a five month hiatus from the office in which she recovered from an exploding kidney, I invited her to help me train a batch of new hires. During which, at some point, I explained something to one of them which was news to her. She started raising her voice in frustration, demanding to know why she was never told anything, and in general being extremely negative. To be clear, this type of behavior was just something she did. And it always bothered me - something that should be of little to no consequence to her personally, blown up in decibels and f-bombs. Like her brother dating someone she didn't approve of. Or her roommate's cousin marrying someone she didn't approve of. Or her cousin dating someone she didn't approve of. Or her aunts doing or saying something she didn't approve of. I often thought about buying her a robe and gavel for how judgmental and salty she could be to the people she supposedly loved. But I digress....

I am a deeply private person. So in that moment in our office, I was completely mortified. Here are these strangers I am trying to set a good example for, and here she comes with her Debbie Downer bullshit. I shut the conversation down as fast as I could by leaving it immediately. But later I sent a text explaining why that was over the line and why I was upset. A day later, I received some half assed apology about how she felt she was being left behind at work, and that somehow justified the disrespect. Like it was acceptable behavior because she was in pain.

I didn't respond. For one, because I was knee deep (literally) in dog fur, trying to shave my Maltese mutt. And for another, I thought that what needed to be said had been said. Her response didn't change mine. And so the next day, I went to her apartment as I did every Monday to do my laundry. As I was putting the laundry into the washing machine, I heard her bedroom door open. Before I could even look up from my dirty jeans and towels, I hear "Oh... Hi." and I turn just in time to see a flash of red hair whipping behind a slamming door.

At that point, I start to have a panic attack, assuming the slammed door was for me and my face. But I breathe through it and decide its best left aone. She's still upset and I don't have the bandwidth to find out why. I'm done volunteering for whatever that is. At work, I try to be cordial. With Him, I try to maintain boundaries and I tell him nothing that happens between she and I.

A few days go by. One night, I go pick him up and we have dinner at a diner down the street from his place. He's visibly upset, and he's using that soft whispery tone that usually precedes a fucking nightmare. Over my country fried chicken, I ask him what's wrong. He asks why I am ignoring her. I tell him I am not. And that after having a door slammed at me, I'm giving whatever she is dealing with a wide berth. He convinces me to reach out to her to try and resolve the issue.  

So I try to do that. But I'm annoyed and I say entirely the wrong thing, from the very start. I tell her "Stop telling people I'm ignoring you." Rather than "I am not ignoring you, Friend. Rather trying to give you space to deal with whatever it is you're dealing with because I don't understand it"... which eventually I do say, but it's too late. My tone is too incendiary. I'm too angry now. And I no longer feel as if this is anything worth saving anymore. She feels the same way. So she tells me we can no longer be friends. I'm hurt that she said that, but more disappointed that she said it first, and I accept that this is the way things will be. I block her on every social media platform we have in common.

Things are instantly strained between He and I. I ask him repeatedly not to get involved because I will be the one accused of it. But he can't help himself from being upset because she's upset. They have no boundaries at all between them. I tell him I need a break from him. He accuses me of "dropping him" the same way I "dropped Her" And so we break up.

For about 2 months. And then one night, I happen to get a late bus out of Seattle and sit across from him. He was coming from work. And I was coming from a bar. Were it not for the tequila, I probably would never have moved next to him. We made very little conversation all the way to our bus stop. I don't remember what I said. Probably just that I missed him and that I wish things had been different. We started talking again after that. And things were better, for a time. Between he and I, anyways.

What happened then between she and I is what sealed our friendship to the annals of history forever...

One night, while late in bed, I get an email notification from tumblr telling me I had a new follower. And its Her. Through several name/address changes, on the one platform I did not think to block her from, there she was following me. Looking down on that message as it glowed up at me from under the covers, witnessing the little smirk in her user avatar, I started to shake. The blog I thought I had made for myself, similar to this one, where I had the space to ruminate and collect thoughts, had been violated and invaded. Like every other aspect of my life, by her.

I did not react well to this discovery. At first, I made several passive aggressive posts directed at her and then deleted each one. And then I went directly to her, asking her to stop as I didn't think it was appropriate for her to be following me. Her response was to laugh at me, and mock something I had said in one of the passive aggressive and deleted posts I made. I'm not ashamed to admit that my reaction was explosive. I hurled every shitty thing I could think of to say inside one sentence and then deleted the entire messaging system we were using to communicate (which at the time was Slack). Later, when I apologized for my terrible reaction, she doubled down on the insults and called me a hypocrite for expecting that there be boundaries between myself and the person who said they never wanted to speak to me again. And so a final decision was made that this was not worth saving. So I blew it up over two lengthy emails.

I don't even remember what I said. And I don't want to. I suspect my brain is protecting me like a heat shield protects a satellite that is being hurled back to earth. I do remember what she said, which is that I proved her therapists right and that I had always been a bad person. I remember this because my therapist had lead me to the same conclusion about herself. Funny how even in our friendship death, we still have things in common.

A day or two after she followed me on tumblr, I updated the configuration of my blog that said no one could access via the app that wasn’t one of my followers, essentially ensuring that whoever was going to visit my site was going to do so in broad daylight. And then I installed a counter that tracked IP addresses of visitors who came to my blog. For months, she continued to check on it. It was like she couldn’t help it. She was clearly sick. So to test the lengths to which she would go to find it, I changed the name once again and sent Him a link to a post. Lo and behold one week later, there is the entry from his phone visiting. And then a few days later another, closely followed by Her IP again. Tumblr would be the first of many spaces that she colonized and evicted me from. It's not a coincidence that I struggled to find a voice after that or that I have not been able to write with anything approaching ease in the last few years.

I didn't see her or talk to her for months. She had stopped coming into the office. I stopped hearing sirens in my head when I saw her name, so I unblocked her on social media. After all, we still share friends and having gotten what I wanted all along (space), my anger had evaporated. 

But according to my boss, she still used the fact that we no longer got along as an excuse to work from home. As if I had been the one shouting at her in the office, as if I had caused a hostile work place. It's no small coincidence, in my mind, that I was let go by our boss very shortly after she returned to the office regularly. I can't prove it, but I believe she contributed to it. And unfortunately, it wouldn't be the last time she actively set out to hurt me.

When I lost my job, I lost my insurance and therefore, access to my therapist. And I had to start rationing my anti-depressants. I fell into the deepest darkest depression of my life. And it did not help that this was all in the dead of winter, when the sun barely came out long enough for me to see it and run outside. Through the rest of December and January, I submitted dozens of applications and copies of my resume. Finally, at the end of January when I had had to start cutting each of my Lexapro's in half to get by, I got a call for an interview for a company in New York. They hired me almost immediately, and before I knew it I was being sent to New York to be trained. It was right around the same time that I found out the remaining members of the team I had hired at my previous job, Her and several others had been let go unexpectedly. I'd love to say that there was no part of me that received any amount of pleasure upon hearing that, but I'd be lying. I definitely gloated. It felt good to know that things were going wrong for them, for her, when things had just started to go right for me after they messed them up so poorly. In all of my self righteousness I opined to a mutual friend about how bleak Her household must be because I believed it probably was. It sucks to lose one's job and I would know all about that. That mutual friend, knowing that I had a relationship with Him at this time, mistook my opinion as though I had heard it was bleak in the household directly from Him. So the next time our mutual friend spoke with Her, our mutual friend voiced some concerns about the state of how things were going for the two of them. Her spoke to Him later, demanding to know why He is telling me in particular that things in their house are not fine. Which leads him to send a group chat message...

It's 7AM EST early February and I'm in the Best Western of Troy, New York reading my text messages. He has sent one to our entire friend group, demanding that if any of us are speaking about him to stop it immediately; leave him out of all conversation - She is upset that there has been any talk at all. I tell him that request is impossible as we're all friends who care about each other and I refuse to be isolated in any way from any of them. Meanwhile, sirens are going off in my head. I hear my mother's voice, warning me about domestic abusers who isolate their victims from their friends to perpetuate their abuse. I silence it. After all, I still live on the corner of Denial St and The-Dick- Is-Big Ave.

Eventually, a one-on-one conversation is started between He and I. He insinuates that it is the group chat itself that is the issue, because she is not allowed to be in it. I tell him I think it's valid that she is not in it as I am, and I want her to remain firmly out of my space. Which is a mutual feeling between the two of us, or so I thought. And anyway, I tell him, it's her that has me blocked on every social media platform we had in common.

It's at this point he calls me a liar. And it's at this point the story should have ended but I still have a severe lack of love for myself, no therapeutic support, am low on my anti depressants, and completely isolated in New York for the next two weeks.

He tells me he has her search for me on Facebook and Instagram and she finds nothing, which proves that it is I that have her blocked therefore I it is me doing the lying. Which, anyone who knows anything about social media will tell you, this is expected behavior if you have someone blocked. But he hardly ever engages with social media, let alone take the time to understand it, so this is lost on him.

I'm immediately triggered. I have to leave the office where I'm being trained for my new job and walk back to my hotel to catch my breath before I vomit up the coffee and cake that our sales manager brought as a welcome gift. The words "At this point, yeah I do think you're lying." keep swimming back up to me from a little grey bubble. I call him and scream into his voicemail. "...I do think you're lying to me," ... My hands practically vibrating, I take a screen recording of all of my blocked lists and send it to him. "...you're lying to me..." I black out for a moment, thoughts of my mothers fists raining down on me as I'm being called a liar in the backseat of her car. I sob into my hotel pillow. I feel broken.

But it’s the middle of the day, I’ve had this job for all of two days and I cannot be having a massive freak out this early on. I take one of my precious remaining Ativan and try to breathe. Eventually, I calm myself. In a sick twist, I end up apologizing to him for screaming and overreacting. I open myself up further and explain to him why being called a liar is a trigger for me. This was a pattern with us; The only way he ever had compassion for me when we argued (and sometimes when we weren't) was when I spelled out exactly what I was going through. I thought if I was honest about my feelings with him, he would treat me with more dignity. But as a matter of fact, it turned out when I was crying on his shoulder, he felt as if I was manipulating him. He told me that once when I called him, sad because someone I had a crush on had started dating someone else. I was never sure what I was supposedly manipulating him to do. Spend time with me? Show concern for me? But despite that, I take a huge risk, expose my jugular to him again and beg for him to understand where I am coming from. 

He apologizes. He comes over and we have a quiet talk. For a very short time, things go back to whatever normal is to us. We're communicating a little more and I think we're being more honest. But things aren't the same. We're still very vulnerable. I never knew if he sensed that or not. I'd like to believe that if he did, his behavior would have been different. But his behavior remained rough, and careless. 

A little over a month after I returned from New York, he had invited me to his house while she was away. The entire experience was unnerving. For one, the apartment felt cold and dark. It was not very inviting. For another, He was relegated to sleeping on a roll up mat on the floor while She had a bed and a closing door with a closet and a window. This really bothered me. I thought there would be more of a separation, or a at least a clear division of space. A boundary. I look desperately for boundaries, but there were none. Her makeup vanity was directly behind his work desk and above the space he used to sleep in. And there was no trace of me there at all. But of course there wouldn't be. She wouldn't allow it. And he never cared enough about me to change that in any sense. So I started to really see for the first time that our relationship was just sex for him. I couldn't see clearly that we even had a friendship anymore and this really bothered me.

I wanted to talk to him about it, and I asked him if we could. I'm not even sure what I wanted to say, but I just needed reassurance that he was still friends with me. That he still liked me. That he was, even though he was far away, still somewhat in my corner. I was feeling anxious, I was low on my medicine, with no therapist, working 12 hour days and still broke from being unemployed for months. I just wanted to talk and have him reassure me that at the very least, he was there for me and would be there for me. He agreed to that and we scheduled a time to talk, because at that point he was extremely busy with work and trying to balance everything, as was I. The afternoon we had worked out to talk comes and goes, and I don't hear from him. I message him and I express annoyance because we had plans, but he tells me that he had an outing with Her, and it went long. And then he expresses annoyance at me for being annoyed at him. He goes on the defensive. I completely unravel over a string of messages, which of course are poorly timed and one right after the other, which I know he hates. He engages his favorite tactic which is to leave the conversation entirely, tell me he's not speaking to me for a while, and then come back at his whim. He does this over a few days. He responds to each of my texts individually, escalating in each response until he's screaming at me in all caps and has worked himself back into the rage which makes him walk away.

I'm at the point where I'm looking at this pile of garbage relationship which has twice in the past two months shoved me into two of the worst, most ill-timed panic attacks I've ever had - and finally I hear my therapist's voice ring back to me as clear as a bell: He will never leave her, and he will never choose you. Everything that my denial had been holding at bay like a sweet little naïve raincloud crashed down all at once around me with the force of a tornado. It was the way there was never any compassion or kindness shown to me at the worst time of my life. It was the way he called me a liar and a manipulator when I was trying to include him in my deepest most personal feelings and experiences. It was the way he never noticed that I was blowing up my life with alcohol or that I was deeply depressed. It was the way he lied over and over again, telling me that he cared about me and then turning around to demonstrate why that wasn't actually true. It was the way I had to bend over backwards to accommodate his feelings, while there was never any room for mine.

And so, as anticlimactically as it began, our relationship finally ended. I don't even remember what the final blow was, or what I said in response. No doubt something shaky and angry and ugly. But I have never regretted it. For as ugly as I know it probably was, I do not regret it. My life, my health both mental and physical, has improved exponentially since that day in late April.

But if there is a hopeful epilogue to the story, it would pick up six months later when I had settled into my new place in the city, to be closer to work. I started to feel those pangs again. Those little flighty feathery feelings that can be so strong they echo across decades with such intensity that you can almost physically feel their presence inside your skin where they hibernate. It was the same feeling that made me sit down next to him on the bus all that time ago. I missed him. In spite of everything that happened, everything I learned, and went through, I did. But it wasn't until I started to feel as though I missed Her too that I knew I had to get back into therapy. A queer friend of mine who had been struggling through their own relationship issues, suggested a co-op place in Seattle they'd been using which was geared specifically to women and those who identify as such. Signing up with them was probably the best decision I'd end up making in my 30's. The therapist I was paired with was understanding, validating, and I never sensed once that she was bored with anything I had to say. She equipped me with the best tools to deal with my feelings, she taught that it's okay to love and protect myself through setting and maintaining healthy boundaries. And the best part about her is that she herself maintained extremely healthy boundaries. I never knew more about her than I needed to know. Yet I felt like I connected with her on a very deep level. And through talking to her, working with her, I was able to fully understand and appreciate what I had just been through, and how to exercise compassion for myself when I would find myself in situations where I would start reliving all of that trauma. Because of her, I found myself again. Or maybe I found myself for the first time. She helped me understand the feelings I'd been having for years but hadn't had the space or emotional support to explore. She helped me put a name to a feeling I’d had since childhood but never knew there was a word for. Not long after I started working with her, I came out as non-binary. Through our work, I found a deep well of love for myself that allows me to firmly (but with patience and love) define and protect my boundaries, and still have enough energy left over show interest, compassion and love for others in their journeys. And I stopped trying to avoid feeling like shit through drinking. Literally, everything became better a result of my therapist's influence on me.

But try as I might, there are some days in the year where my mind wanders back to the grey north where I tried to make a home. When I can almost hear the drizzle of rain in Occidental Park as I cried my eyes out there over something He said. In my mind's eye, I turn away, but the neighborhood is haunted with these types of traumas for me. Nowhere is safe, my mind panics, and I get turned around in the horrid memories; screaming at each other on 1st Avenue outside E Smith, sobbing so hard on 2nd that a stranger asked me if I was okay, countless arguments in the park that followed us to the bus stop and back to our home. Eventually, my mind grows desperate for answers, and it carries me back in time... all the way back to 2010 at Macy's when it began, and the loop starts again.

Which brings me to today. I've lost count of how many times we've been down this road. But I know grief is hard. And so is recovery. One of the ways in which I see to my recovery now is to write more. I don't usually publish what I write because it's just for me and I still have a lot of residual anxiety about posting anything personal online. Another reason is that my writing is so fluid that publishing it seems too final. Like... what if I change my mind about that way I've structured a sentence? What if I think of a better way to phrase that feeling? What if I change my mind entirely about the thing that I've written about? ...Why use a period if I could use a comma?

But I'm publishing this note anyway. For you, future Holly. Because you need this to be over. And because whenever we get into this rut, the only thing we seem to be able to do to stop ourselves from missing them and reminiscing about the good times is to walk ourselves through the trauma that they ended up causing. Which is effective in getting the sad feelings to stop, but you know is burning you alive on the inside. And so I'm writing this note to tell you (future me) that we don't have to do that anymore. You can set these thoughts and feelings down in language and writing, and be done. You can publish them, and move on. You can walk away. Put a period on the end of the sentence and close the book. 

But if you ever feel as though you need to mutilate yourself mentally by trying to list it all out again, so that you can poke it and dissect it and review it in triplicate... I will be here. Waiting to remind you that nothing you have ever done disqualifies you from being afforded compassion and kindness. Waiting to remind you that you deserve better friends, better love, than those that would afford you only scraps. Waiting to remind you that your anger is valid, along with your hurt and your sadness. And also waiting to remind you that this is temporary. These feelings are temporary. Give yourself the space today to feel what you are feeling. Let yourself be sad. Let yourself be angry. And tomorrow when you wake up, let it all go.

I love you. -H

[we-are-all-obsessed-here]

Heart Strings And Melodies (Modern Musician!Poe AU) Part 15

(Not my Gif)

A/N- Guess who’s back! I told you I would get back to this series, admittedly its been over a year (literally, the last part came out in January last year!) But I am determined to finish this off!!! I can see this series having a few more parts, not many but hey ho, at least you guys will have a proper ending after all this time.

Summary: Reader and Poe enjoy the remaining days of their getaway to Athens. (I am bad at summarising, basically its just fluff)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

The moment you woke, a pained groan left your lips, your body ached all over.

“Morning beautiful.” Poe’s almost whispered words caught your attention. You shifted to see him sat on the bed beside you, mug of coffee in his grasp, steam slowly rising from it. He took a sip before offering it to you. With slow movements you shuffled until you were sat upright, your back against the soft fabric headboard.

“How’re you feeling?” Poe wondered after you’d taken the coffee from him, offering him a sleepy smile and a murmured ‘thank you’.

“Sore. Really fucking sore.” You complained, stretching your legs out until you heard a click then curled your toes slightly.

“So…” Poe hesitated, “Last night was…”

“Amazing.” You beamed at him as the first sip of coffee seeped through your veins.

“Yeah, it was wasn’t it.” He grinned widely in fond memory. Poe shuffled to your side, his fingers brushing through your tangled hair, his other hand entwined with yours.

“Do you think we could go to the Parthenon tomorrow?” You pondered.

“Too sore to walk around it today?” Poe teased softly.

You hummed in affirmation.

“Want to have our beach day today then? Grab a lounger and a parasol and just spend the day snoozing.” Poe offered.

“As long as its with you, and I’m not moving and there’s ice cream, I’m game.” You almost giggled. 

You sat for a while, sipping your coffee and cuddling to Poe’s side, your head resting every now and again on his shoulder. Poe meanwhile ran his fingers through your hair gently, soothingly, then slowly massaged wherever he could reach.

“I need a shower.” You grumbled in disgust as you shifted slightly, the inside of your thighs covered in the dried evidence of your intimate activities the night before.

“I did offer last night, but no, you just wanted to sleep.” Poe teased playfully, grinning at you.

“Shove off, jackass.” You stuck your tongue out at him in response. You gasped as something cool was slipped onto your finger; glancing down you found Poe’s thumb brushing over a metal band on your ring finger.

“Is that what… you wanted to give me?” Your brow furrowed as your gaze met Poe’s.

“Yes. I know it’s not an elegant ring or anything like that, and technically its a wedding ring not an engagement ring but-“

“Poe,” You cupped his face and kissed him tenderly. “I love it. It’s really unique,” You stated as you admired the ring. “Where did you get it?”

“It… was my Mom’s. See, my Mom liked to tinker around with her jet, one day she came home and my Dad found it,” Poe pointed to the ring. “It just dropped out of my Mom’s flight suit when she got changed, it was just an old washer from one of the jet’s parts. He kept hold of it and fashioned it into a wedding ring. Of course my Mom was surprised at the wedding when he slipped it onto her finger, but my Mom was never one for traditional things, or so she told me.” Poe recalled fondly.

“This,” Your fingers brushed over the ring. “Was your Mom’s?”

“Yeah, she’d have loved you, you’re both badass.” Poe whispered softly as he nuzzled against your neck, before pressing a gentle kiss to the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, Poe.” You brushed your fingers through his dark curls. You breathed in the aroma of Poe’s favoured body wash and hummed in contentment.

“Someones had a shower this morning.” You commented.

“You weren’t the only one who was disgusting this morning.” Poe replied with a smirk. You groaned after taking the last sip of coffee.

“Right I’ll go shower.” You stretched your arms above your head then yawned.

“Want me to grab us some breakfast?” Poe wondered, shuffling to the edge of the bed.

“That’d be great.” You padded over the cool floor tiles towards the bathroom, your legs aching with every step. Poe grasped your arm before you could enter and pulled you into an embrace, he leaned down and captured your lips in a loving kiss.

“Love you more.” You hummed happily, flashing him a bright smile before finally stepping into the bathroom.

Despite not doing anything whatsoever, other than laying across a white plastic lounger with a towel placed on top for comfort, time passed rather quickly. You had to admit, the constant snoozing and relaxation helped your body recover from the night before, you felt much less achy and sore, more so, you looked forward for more sightseeing the following day. Poe had enjoyed watching how tranquil you looked laid soaking in the warmth of the sun, he knew you were worried about being unemployed and that you weren’t sure what you were going to do once you returned home. You decided very early on that day, that another beach day was in order at some point in the remaining days of your holiday. The heat of the sand beneath bare feet along with the warmth of the sun beating down for hours on end without interruption from wisps of cloud had made the occasional dip into the sea a godsend. However before you knew it, the sun had begun to set, the ocean lapping further and further up the beach.

“I think, we should head back.” Poe noted, propping himself up on his elbow. You frowned slightly.

“Do we have to?” You almost whined.

“Well as much as I love laying here, the tide is coming in and I’m pretty sure my stomach needs food” Poe replied bluntly. A small smile made its way onto your lips before you swung your legs around so you were perched on the edge of the lounger.

“Let’s get going. We should get an early night if we’re going to the Parthenon and doing to tours tomorrow.”

“Want to go via the market again?”

“Oooh, yeah, that sounds good!” You enthused while you began folding and packing away into the colourful cotton beach bag the few bits and pieces you had brought with you. Poe draped his arm around your shoulder as the two of you began to step back towards the hotel, discussing where and more importantly what you would be eating that night.

The sun beat down on both of you the next day during the arduous walk to the Parthenon; thankfully the cotton dress you were wearing helped keep you moderately cool. Poe had also settled on plain light coloured shorts and a cotton top. He took your hand in his for the entire journey, his thumb reaching to brush over the cool metal of his mother’s ring on your finger as you took a detour to wander through the market once again. Glancing over you couldn’t miss the grin adorned on his face. You gently bumped into him, drawing his attention.

“You utter sap.”

“I’m sorry?” He questioned, a brow raised.

“Nothing, just…,” You reached up and cupped his cheek before leaning in to kiss him softly “I love you so much Poe. My wonderful fiancé.”

Poe seemed taken aback for a moment before shaking his head gently.

“Fiancé. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Just wait until its husband and wife.” You replied with a bright smile. Poe chuckled in response.

“Yeah, calling you my wife is going to be wild.”

“What will be wild is us reaching the Parthenon and not be out of breath.” You joked, fanning yourself with your hand. The city of Athens bustled around you as you continued on, plenty of tourists like yourselves going to and fro from the many historical sights the city had to offer. Eventually you reached your desired destination, although you’d both made the decision to get a cab back to the hotel or God forbid you being able to walk the next day. Hours were spent listening to the tour guide walk you through the history of the Parthenon and the  Acropolis of Athens, you and Poe admired the stone ruins of the Parthenon and surrounding area.

“Smile sweetheart!” Poe called to you. Turning around to face him you smiled as only you would when with the man you loved most dear. Poe glanced down at the camera as the image he’d just taken popped up, he grinned pleased and joined your side.

“Here pass me the camera.” You held your hand out expectantly. After Poe passed you the camera, you looked around before grasping his hand and guiding him to what you imagined would be the perfect spot for a photograph. Poe followed willingly and the two of you wrapped your arms around each other before you held the camera up in front of the two of you. Several photos were taken, the first was simple, the both of you smiling at the camera. The following photos capturing Poe pressing a kiss to your temple, to the both of you laughing heartily and another photo captured the two of you looking at each other while smiling. That particular photo was slightly skewed, your attention more on Poe than the camera.

“It really is beautiful up here.” Poe commented as the tour eventually came to an end.

“Shame we’ve got to go back a skyline of concrete and glass.” You huddled closer to him.

“It has its own beauty. Back home, I mean.”

“There’s no denying that, but sometimes a change of scenery is nice.” You admitted, gesturing to your surroundings.

“You’re going to miss this aren’t you?”

“We could always come back for our honeymoon?” You smiled softly, raising your arm and wiggling the fingers of the hand where the ring sat. Poe’s smile became a grin and he took your hand and kissed the back of it.

“We sure could. Although we might need to save up for a while before that happens.”

You sighed, realising Poe’s words held truth, you still had a job to think about when you returned back home.

“Hey,” Poe noticed your mood shift slightly, “The day’s not over yet, want to head down to the beach?” Poe offered.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You admitted.

“C’mon then sweetheart.” Poe held out his hand, you took it gladly, a smile returning to your face as the two of you began the journey back towards the beach. The taxi you managed to grab partway down was a blessing and a curse: your feet had time to recuperate from the long day’s walk, however it seemed even warmer in the cab than it did walking outside in the sun. While you stood fanning yourself, trying desperately to cool down, Poe thanked and payed the driver before returning to your side. You both walked along the seafront, enjoying the small sea breeze that seemed to cut away some of the heat from the sun. Poe hopped down onto the beach below and held out his arms, beckoning you to jump down.

“You better catch me Dameron. I swear to God.” You warned.

“What do you take me for?” Poe responded.

“An occasional klutz.” You replied. Poe’s face flashed with shock. You gave a brief laugh before hopping down from the ledge and into Poe’s waiting arms. For a split second, you could have sworn that he was in two mind of whether he was going to catch you or let you drop to the sands below. However, Poe wrapped his arms around you and gently placed you onto the warm sands. You cocked a brow at him.

“What?”

“You were going to drop me weren’t you, let me fall.”

“I would never!” Poe grinned through his words.

You gave Poe a playful shove before taking his hand in yours and stepping across the sands. Eventually the two of you walked along the shoreline, holding your shoes in one hand and your lover’s hand in the other. You closed you eyes and listened intently to the sound of the small waves coming into shore. The cool water washed over your feet, a welcome relief from heat of the setting sun.

“This is nice.” Poe murmured.

“Poe Dameron, singer, songwriter, poet with his words, and all he has to say is ‘this is nice’.” You teased, giving him a gentle shove with your shoulder.

“C’mon, you know I save my best work for my job, or for when I want to be over the top romantic. Otherwise I’m… what did you call me, oh yeah, a klutz, with my words.” Poe teased back, giving a small shove in return.

The two of you stood there, by the shoreline, for quite some time, simply looking out to the horizon, letting the water lap at your ankles.

“Beach wedding?” You offered after a period of silence.

“Don’t think we’ll find a beach in the middle of the city babe.”

“I mean if we tried super hard we could buy lots of sand and maybe a super big paddling pool. Hire a bunch of people to make waves with like wooden paddles or something?” You almost couldn’t help the laughter that slipped out.

“God, I’m marrying an idiot.” Poe chuckled from behind you, his arms tightening around your middle as he rested his forehead on your shoulder.

“Pot kettle and black, Poe Dameron.” You glanced over your shoulder.

“Guess we’re perfect for each other.” Poe breathed. You hummed in agreement. Poe pressed a small kiss to the crook of your neck, you felt heat creep across your cheeks at the sign of affection. Even now, despite how long the two of you had been together, you would still flush at his attention like you did when the two of you had just met.

“I love you, Poe.” You whispered, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“I love you too.” Your name fell from Poe’s lips in a whisper, caressing the shell of your ear.

“I’m hungry.” You stated nonchalantly a moment later. You heard Poe laugh deeply and heartily behind you, his hold on you loosening as he held his stomach.

“What!?” You exclaimed, turning to watch Poe wipe a tear from his eye.

“I’m sorry babe, but that just came out of nowhere. Talk about shattering the romantic atmosphere.” Poe laughed. You gently scratched the back of your head, embarrassed.

“I could smell food. Sorry.” You shrugged. Poe shook his head, a smile playing on his lips before he wrapped his arm around your waist and started to guide you in the direction of the hotel, within eyesight but a little further down the beach. The hotel was pleasantly cool, much to the relief of you and Poe. Your evening was spent sitting across from one another, sharing traditional Greek cuisine within the candlelit restaurant of the hotel, the evening air carried the smell of the ocean along with the flowers which decorated the venue. Poe would hold your hand in-between courses; conversation flowed easily, sweet smiles and words of love being exchanged continually.

Before long, the week came to a close, far too quickly for either you or Poe’s liking. There was something about this little getaway to Athens that made you never want to leave. To wake each day and visit somewhere new, to wander through markets and ruins as the sounds and aromas of the city came to life. To step out onto a beach with ease and enjoy the smell of the salty sea breeze and the feel of cool ocean water crashing over your feet. As you stood at the airport waiting to board your flight home, you often thought of the other moments you had spent here with Poe. Laid together in bed, some nights just sharing loving whispers while other nights were spent more intimately. A smile brushed across your face as your fingers touched the cool metal on your ring finger. Yes, never going home would be nice, but you and Poe had far too much of a future together yet to plan.

Tagged (It’s been a year- haha I wonder if any of these will actually work?):

@petah-parkah-and-potahtas @mirkwoodshewolf @sleepretreat @jessicaguerreiro07 @pdamn-eron @imagine-that-star-wars @yourwonderbelle @imaginecrushes @simplyonehellofapilot @unstoppableforcce @mirkwoodavengersherlockianwhofan @pinkdreamsandglitter @i-said-goddameron @ghost-with-spaghetti-arms @sassy-satanunicorns

@ponycake27

[justagirlwithastorytotell]

You are stronger than you think

This year started off as the best year ever… kind of. I spent the week before and during the holidays with the man I love, watching him interact with my family and enjoying being in the same space. After a few days in his city, I was thinking that I could do this every day and be with him here. A week of cuddles and laughs and great sex wasn’t enough but we made the best use of the time that we had.

My boyfriend lives on the East Coast with this family and I live in the South near my family. We met at a work conference and a few years later worked out the details and started down this crazy LDR path. We committed to meet as often as possible and to make it work. Love.

I left him on the East Coast and came back to the South to my dog dying. I’m grateful that it happened how it happened but I’m remorseful that I didn’t do more for her. I’ll always love her.

Back to life as usual as we knew it. I was so wrapped up at work the week I got back that I didn’t notice I was missing something. My period! Funny because the day after it was late he casually asked about it, which he’s never done before. We never even talk about my period. Like never. It’s crazy how spiritually connected people can be.

Makes me think back to my ovulation day the last time we were together. I texted my best friend and said oops that same day. I know we should’ve had sex but he pulled out. I wasn’t going to miss out on these limited opportunities to have the ultimate connection with my man. I love sex with him.

He told me don’t worry that it was late it was probably just stress. I made a commitment to take a test if it wasn’t there by the end of the week. Secretly, I already knew the deal. My breasts were sore and the usual pre-period symptoms never came. I bought the test three days before I committed to taking it. It watched me every day.

I woke up Sunday morning scared, nervous, etc. I took the test as planned. Just as I expected. Got back in bed for the rest the day and cried. I sent a picture to my best friend but avoiding her calls all day. He was in church all day so it give me a reason to be distant for the day. My mind was everywhere. How would this affect me. How would this affect him. What would it mean for us? Before we had sex for the first time we talked about what we would do if, so I already knew what he wanted. How could I be so careless and caught in the moment to throw it all away.

It took me three days to tell him. Over a text message. Not how I wanted to tell him. The next day we talked about it briefly and then it all started. :)  He wanted to know what I ate, if I slept well and what I did. He fussed at me for not taking care of the baby. He called just to check on “us.” He’s such a good man.

Morning sickness is for the birds! Every day my breast got more sore and seemingly bigger.

We talked about our future. He wanted to keep it. We talked about making it work and being a family. He’s not crazy about the idea of abortion. I’m just scared. I missed my first actual appointment to confirm, but it’s all part of a plan. I rescheduled with an amazing supportive relatable Doctor. I cried and cried and asked her to double check the results. Both times positive. She gave me a follow up appointment and also referred me to an abortion clinic. This is real.

He arrived to town a few days later. He immediately touched my stomach as soon as he got in the car. My man and my baby. Our family. I can see this.

We cuddled all night and had the best sex in the morning. Literally. The best sex ever. We partied and enjoyed each other. As always, another wonderful weekend over to soon. We talked a lot. The pros and the cons. He’s not for the abortion but he’s supportive.

Back to life as usual while we figure this out. The next thing I know I’m called into HR and fired on the spot. I hold it together until I get to my car and break down. This is too much. Demoted and then fired. The car accident. The store. The Dog. Pregnancy. It’s just too much. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Looking back I realize that I am directly at fault by not speaking up for all of the most recent things in my life and vow to not make those same mistakes twice.

We fuss  more frequently now. He’s very distant about the pregnancy. He engages, but he is short. He’s no longer calling to check on “us” like he had before.

I set the consultation appointment at the clinic. 9 am on February 6. I arrived to be greeted by Pro-Life supporters. Shuffled into a room with no electronics, no sounds or tv and all the other girls lost in their own minds. I pay the receptionist and pee in the cup and wait. And wait. I moved to another room and wait more. Finally the tech calls me to the back. She tells me to fill out the paperwork and get undressed. I expect her to leave while I undress and expected something to cover myself. She was anxiously waiting and provided none of the “comforts” that I expected. Minimal instructions and conversation and she shoves the cold ultra sound wand into my vagina. I look at the screen and see it and listen for a heartbeat. I’m am relieved that it is too small to hear a heartbeat. As I redress I asked for a different doctor because I realize who the doctor is. The tech said he’s the only one. Well. No choice. Blood work and then onto the doctor’s consultation. The doctor was halfway through his rehearsed lines by the time he looked up. Awkward. He and I use to hang out years ago. It was actually comforting to see a familiar face. Even given the circumstances. We talked, he explain the options and answered questions. On the way out, the receptionist gave me the price and the information for the day of. I broke down in the car again. Alone. We committed early on to not tell too many people and not telling our families. That commitment left me with no one to talk to. My man wasn’t around. No one to understand my feelings that I barely understood myself. Pregnant and unemployed facing an expensive procedure.

He seemed annoyed when I want to talk about certain aspects. He says “we already talked about it.” He’s short when it comes to it. I have not 100% made up my mind. He asks about the appointment and the picture. I never show him the ultrasound because I didn’t wanna make him sad and tried to shelter him from the process.

The only thing I knew for sure is that I was pregnant and although I felt alone, as grumpy as he seems, my man was by my side. I feel like I’ve been picking at him. He’s on my nerves and my nerves are getting to me. I try to lay off, we are fussing more. I need more attention and he is needing more alone time to process it all.

The procedure is set for 9 AM on February 17. He comes in town late the night before. He doesn’t touch my stomach when he gets in the car. He’s quiet. When we get home he asked to see the ultrasound and asked a few questions and just sat quietly. I have a bad cold so we have to keep some distance, we barely even sleep close together. We talk the morning more of. I try to have sex to ease my nerves, it doesn’t work, he’s not into it.

My friend picks us up to go to the appointment. He makes one final plea “we don’t have to do this, we can make it work.” Honestly, I know he didn’t want this and I’m not sure I did either. I think and think, he’d be a great father. I’d figured out the mother thing. Our families will help. But we are so far apart and I want to share pregnancy and parenting with my partner. We arrive at the clinic. I’m so scared, both the physical fear of the procedure and emotional fear of what this means for us is overwhelming.

Again, they herd us from room to room. I analyze everyone there. All different ages and races and demographics. Some people have been there for a procedure before. I wonder where all of the men are. The paperwork only ask the father’s age and state. No specifics incase there are none. I couldn’t imagine truly being alone in this all.

Pills and needles to prep for the procedure. I’m half awake and half asleep. The tv in this waiting room is showing a murder series similar to Law & Order. It seems like forever before they call my number to the pre-op room. Paperwork and shots. Enter the procedure room which looks like a regular doctor’s office and kind of like a science classroom. The doctor and two nurses walk in and give a brief explanation. She inserts a shot into my cervix that burns. I hear the suction machine turn on. Everything is blurry from my tears. I feel the doctor stretch open my vagina so she can empty out uterus. I’ve never felt this kind of pain coming from some many different places. I have lost my voice due to my cold so I silently crying out in pain and try to close my legs. The nurses hold them open. I can feel everything. I’m trying to count down with the doctor to know avail. I remember her yelling you have to slow your breathing. All I could think about was his disappointment with me.

Finally it was over, I laid on the table crying from shame and pain. They make me get up even though I could barely move. I walk to the recovery room where myself and another girl are painfully out of it. Less than 10 minutes after the procedure they make me get up and walk to the bathroom to pee and get dressed. It’s all over. They signed me out and returned my phone. I call him to come. He’s on his way. He’s not here yet. I call him again. He seems annoyed. I get in the car and try to act normal. He asked if I’m OK. I lied. He sits on the other side of the car. We get home and I fall sleep on the couch. I wake up and he’s across the room, quiet. We go out later for food and pads. I guess I shouldn’t be embarrassed about that kind of stuff. I turn in early.

We woke the morning after to his phone ringing. He spends an hour and a half talking about work. I wanted him to talk to me. I try to be understanding that he’s trying to take his mind off of it. I want to know how he feels. Are they going to talk to me? Finally he opens up. He says “I feel like I killed my kid.” I immediately break down and I try to justify and express comfort. Minimally heated conversation and we get up to start our day. We grab lunch and then he has to work to do. We are apart most of the day and I just want to be together. We catch up for dinner and enjoy our final hours together. He leaves so early the next morning. He was wearing a very nice suit. He was cute.

I love him and I know that he loves me but this was hard. I wanted to be in his arms. I wanted to let my emotions out and cry with him. Barely 48 hours together for us to healing isn’t enough. I cry the whole way home from the airport like I normally do, except I have to pullover a few times to get it together this time.

Fussing is at an all-time high with us. Every week and something else. I’m dealing with this by needing attention and interaction and support. He deals with it by retreating within himself and wanting alone time. This is not a good dynamic for the situation. Anxiety peaks. This pretend not pretend undiagnosed depression anxiety attacks me. I didn’t think I was fit to raise a kid. That was a huge part of my decision. I could barely take care of my dog.

I continue to prep to move to be closer to him. It takes my mind off of things. We talk about it. I prep my family and friends. I’m in love with the idea of really starting a future with this man. Then it hits me. Mid conversation he says, “before you were the mother of my child, now you’re just my girlfriend.” I’m shocked and hurt. I feel as though I am forever spiritually connected with this man. We created a child in love and although we elected to go an alternate route based on the circumstances, we created something beautiful together. He apologized and clarified but it still stuck with me and stings so deeply.

We continues to plan our future despite the short term hiccups. We are excited for our plans. We’re fussing again, we knew it was going to be tough but damn.

The follow up appointment comes. I walk past the same protestors. I find enough confidence to yell “I’m back bitches” which made everyone else laugh. This is really over. I walk into the same room where the procedure was. I immediately flashback to my experience the time before. I hesitate before I am able to climb back onto the same bed. The ultrasound confirmed that my uterus was empty. This is really over. But was it really over? I think about the what ifs everyday. What if it ruined our relationship. What if I would’ve been more careful. What if we would’ve kept it.

Another stinger, “you already didn’t want to have my child.” These really are painful to me. I propose we take some time off to breath. We talked through it and move on. It’s probably just the distance, the situation, the COVID quarantine. That’s what has us short fused. The plus to quarantine is more interaction. More communication and also more time to think and reflect. I realize how upset I am and how insecure I’ve become. Sometimes valid insecurities and some not so valid. I put on weight. My hips got wider. My small breast got smaller. I think back to him not wanting to have sex the last time he was here. I think back to our conversations become a chore. All these insecurities weigh on me and in turn on our relationship. We commit to dates and things to make our LDR more exciting. We talk about anniversaries. I think about us being together. Living together, eventually. I decide that will get engaged eventually get married on September 16, our kids birthday, as a special memory for us.

These large scale arguments are coming more frequently. We end up in a heated text argument at five in the morning. He reveals that he felt rejected. I never thought of that. I immediately tried to reassure him that that’s not the case. I never tell him I planned our family out time and time again and I enjoy being partners and I’d eventually enjoy being parents with him. We make up, minor fussing.

I finally move the ultrasound from the same spot it was when he put it down that night. He was the last one to look at our child’s picture. It’s forever a part of me and I make a mental note that I want to find a special way to remember it.

After reflecting on his feeling of rejection, I realize his hurt and my hurt were similar but unique and there was not one way for us to cope together. Yet I had been upset with him for not coping how I wanted him to cope.

For the first time in months I saw the signs of a distant period. It was like the first time all over again. I didn’t know what to expect, what products to use, my hormones were crazy and it was a reminder of my journey over the the last three months. Quarantine gave me all the time to think. I tried washing TV to keep my crazy hormonal mind occupied but all the families and babies made it worse. I was grateful that I was not pregnant during this confusion, scared and alone alone. But also scared of the future and not seeing him soon or again. Not knowing when this would end.

After more words and heated text messages, we realized we weren’t happy with the current situation and maybe better apart. We ignored each other for days. I called him because I missed his voice. It was also the first day of what would’ve been our second trimester. The day when morning sickness would end and the dangers of the first trimester would pass and we could make the announcement to everyone. Coincidently, such a joyous occasion was spent in a cold conversation about if and when and where and why this relationship could or should maybe would resume or continue or end or evolve.

Abortion is tough. It’s a lot to deal with every day forever. My biggest fear was losing my identity along with my freedom and my man. All I wanted was to be crazy in love, young wild love, excited for adventures and growing into a lasting relationship. I never signed up for the most emotionally taxing experience of my life.

Abortion is tough. If I knew then what I knew now would I have had one? Would I have kept it? Who knows. There is no one answer that fits for everyone. It’s not easy in any capacity, in any aspect in any way shape or form. I’m 100% sure I would’ve been more careful. I would have reached out for emotional support way sooner and realized that this wasn’t something that I could endure in silence. And I 200% would’ve love my man that much more for standing beside me picking me up and supporting me through a situation that neither of us knew the ramifications of.

Abortion is tough. Remember you are not alone. It is a badge of honor to take charge of your future. It is not a cloak of shame.

[prorevenge]

Destroy me as a person, I'll destroy your entire existence.

I'm warning you in advance, this is going to be a long one. TL;DR at the end. Names of people and places have been changed for discretion. I don't expect you to believe it's true, everyone has the right of doubt. The revenge mainly goes towards my thankfully-no-longer-stepmom, but it comes with a side of fuck you to my Dad who at the time was an enabler.

This story is part of the reason I have borderline personality organization. For those who are not familiar with it, it's not a disorder. I can funtion on a much higher level than someone with a personality disorder, however not as highly as someone healthy. I'm putting this beforehand, because you need to understand that I wasn't always like this. The revenge is the result of my personality being slowly and painfully crushed, and getting a last kick out with it's last breath. That last breath of my dying personality wasn't in vain, I'm getting the much needed therapy and help, and I'm making amazing progress. Part of that progress is sharing this. I only shared this story with my therapist until now. Yeah also inb4 "why your real mom didn't help you", she left with another dude when I was just a baby and reconnected with me 2~ years after these events take place, but that's a story for another time.

Background:

You see, my dad is a little bit of a Narcissist (yeah, I know I'm saying at the start of the post that he was also enabling, which is true. He seemed to phase between them depending on situation), but at the same time he is a really intelligent and smart guy, and the combination of these traits was really conflicting. He raised me the "Dad is always right" way, while at the same time he always told me to stand up for myself and never give up. You see, he raised me to be an adult since I was a little child. He taught me everything I know, even the things I needed and used for this revenge.

When I was around 9, we moved to a set of islands in a hispanic country, let's call them Palm Islands. We moved here because my Dad hated our country and wanted to flee. This is important to the story, because he didn't want to move back at all costs. So the island we were staying on at the time is island A. Island A was nice, I quickly learned Spanish and fit in pretty well with the other kids. There were at least 50~ nationalities in our school, so being a foreigner wasn't an issue. My Dad was single, so he was pretty active on dating sites. On these dating sites, he met Lilith (I found this name fitting, look up it's history if you are interested in a demon from the Hebrew mytholgy that kills babies). Lilith was a true Narcissists, in all the aspects you can imagine. She was a teacher, but never had kids of her own even though she wanted. She was from island B. The funny thing is that she catfished my Dad. It was a nice surprise when he went to pick her up to the airport, and was greeted by around 110kg more than he was expecting. Anyways, they got together, and everything seemed fine at the beginning. That's when the big 2008 crisis hit, and it hit really hard in hispanic countries. My Dad was let go at his job and was unemployed. Lilith offered for us to move in with her on island B. My Dad accepted without hesitation, because he didn't want to go back to our country. So this is where the issues start. The first problem was, when we moved to island B, we moved to a really rural and small, xenophobic little shithole of a town. They absolutely hated ANYONE that was not form a latin origin. Well, guess who was the ONLY non-latin foreigner (apart from my dad who didn't move out of the house, as he was unemployed for 2 more years). If you guessed me, you guessed right. It was hell. I didn't even get the chance to fit in. I was bullied all the time. Not just by students, teachers did it and even fucking encouraged it. I was beaten on my way home every week or so by 3 or 4 students, and I remember a time when I was lying on the floor, getting kicked by fuck knows how many kids, when I noticed one of the teachers passing, shrugging, and moving on. There was "go back to your country fucking nationality" graffitied in the town's playground. In the 3 years I lived there, there were several graffity removals, however, this one never got off... As this wasn't bad enough, here comes the fun part. Lilith. Now you are wondering why I named her after a demon that kills babies. Let me answer that for you. If the bullying from school wasn't enough on it's own, Lilith made sure I hated my life. She couldn't stand that my Dad loved me more than her, so she made really fucking sure of it. And why my Dad didn't intervene? Remember I said he didn't want to move back to our country at all costs? The cost of seeing my life destroyed was one he was willing to pay. So he just sat and watched as I suffered. You see, Lilith would always ground me for anything. Lilith would give me really specific instructions for really specific tasks, that were impossible to follow. When I obviously failed, I got grounded. Grounding me meant locking me up in my room with all forms of enjoyment taken a away. All forms of enjoyment for me, meant books. I got my books taken away. All I could do was look on an empty wall and swell in my suffering. Lilith would hold me in constant psychological terror. I was always berated, insluted and talked down on. I heard daily, that my worth is the equivalent to piece of turd, that I am even worth less than that. That nobody loves me and no one ever will. That all that I'm getting is because I deserve it. That I am a waste of space, a piece of human garbage. All the things you can possibly imagine that you don't want a kid to be told. And one last thing to add to the list, starvation. You see, she starved me, even though it wasn't starving in that little piece of garbage that she calls brain. I can't eat crude tomatoes. Not I don't like it and I don't want to eat it, I literally can't. As soon as I feel crude tomato flavor in my mouth, I start to puke. I can't control it. She decided that she will cure this by only feeding me tomatoes for 3 days. Guess how that worked out.. And my Dad? Just looked the other way. I was 14 at the time, and I tried to kill myself 3 times. If any would have been successful, I wouldn't be here telling the story, so hold on to your seats.

This seemingly endless nightmare got a bit better when my Dad got a job at island A and we could move back on our own. But I wasn't the same anymore. I was having serious depression, anxiety, panic attacks. I started smoking and drinking. I couldn't fit in again. I knew that if I wanted to get my life together, I would need to move back to my home country. But you see, being underage, I couldn't do it and my Dad didn't want to move back. Even though we moved back to island A, we still was relying pretty heavily on Lilith financially, so I knew if they broke up, we wouldn't have other choice than to move back.

Just a quick recap about Lilith: a sour lady in her late 40's who is morbidly obese while being really short, around 150~cm, is a teacher but never had kids of her own even though she wanted, was unhappy with her life in general, and being the true Narcissists she is, she blamed everything on the world. She hadn't dumped my dad because she is well aware of her physical traits and knew that if they broke up, she would most likely end up alone. This is where I wanted to hit.

So as I knew some psychology, knowing her personality traits, I somehow suspected that she will try to compensate for the above mentioned with cheating. But cheating is hard when you are a fat and ugly motherfucker, so my next guess were sex-chats. Boy, was I right. I simply installed a keylogger on her computer, and after 2 weeks I had a plethora of sex-chat logs to show my Dad. However, this didn't go as I expected. Instead of breaking up, my Dad got in a position of power after confronting Lilith about it. This was a serious miscalculation on my part, as I should have expected that my Dad won't break up because he doesn't want to move back, but rather use this in his 'games'.

I knew I had to go all out on this one if I wanted to break them up. So I hatched my master plan.

But I wasn't just going to make them brake up. Even after all the things that the place and her have done to me, I had a little fight in me yet, which at the start I referred to as the last breath of my dying personality.

I was out for destroying Lilith's entire life in the process and make my Dad do what he didn't want to while seeing me suffer.

The setup:

Remember when I said my Dad was active on dating sites? Well, he was really active again once we got back to island A. He was relentlessly cheating on Lilith.

First things first, I bought an extra SIM card for my phone. I needed a new phone number for a new WhatsApp account. You see, I knew that if my Dad deemed a lady from a dating site worthy of a fuck, he would ask for a phone number so they don't lose contact. As I couldn't imitate a woman's voice, I opted for leading him on over WhatsApp. Next I set up a dating profile on one of the sites I knew my dad was actively searching on, and I made his idea of a perfect woman, in every aspect, come to life. I spent days fabricating every aspect of her personality and life. This character was named Paula. Paula was a tall, blonde, thin, beautiful, intelligent and nice lady, who worked on island B as a make-up artist for the local news. She grew up in a family with 4 brothers (which I added because I wanted to have a quick and easy excuse if my Dad noticed any male-ish mannerism while speaking to him as her), loved sports, philosophy, and psychology (remember when I said my Dad taught me everything I needed for this revenge?) The pics I used for Paula were from a mostly unknown 30-ish South American actress from a really bad and unknown latin soap-opera (I don't know if it's the correct term in English as well). So I had really nice make-up photos worthy of a local news make-up artist, while having more normal and everyday pics as well. The little twist is Paula is the EXACT OPPOSITE of Lilith in every possible way. It was perfect. One more important thing to note is that my Dad was hooked on a sport that we'll call Squannis. It's a mixture between Squash and Tennis, hence the name, really popular in latin countries at the time. There were familiar Squannis tournaments with Lilith's family, who were really involved in Squannis as well. Also I hope I don't have to explain how extensive a hispanic family is. Important to note that we were the only foreigners in the family. With this information at hand and my WhatsApp and dating profile setup as well, I was more than ready to unleash hell upon those who wronged me.

The execution:

I started surfing the dating site. As with dating sites in general, you can't search for a person in specific, so I had to go over 200~ish profiles to finally find my Dad and mark that I'm interested in him. That same night, we get matched, and we start chatting. He is loving Paula. Every single bit of her. While chatting, I steer the conversation to make him say things like "even if I had someone I would break up with her in an instant to be with a Goddess like you", "you are my perfect ideal in every way", "where have you been all my life", these sorts of things. The sorts of things I know would get through Lilith's narcissistic wall of protection, and hit her in the very core. My dad was making comments on how she just met the perfect woman in a dating site. He spent basically an hour worshipping why she is perfect for him in every way. Guys, it was the hardest thing to not grin like I just hit the fucking jackpot. He was hooked, like a heroin addict. Next day, all day speaking about Paula. Then comes the third day. He asks for a mobile number, he wants to hear Paula's surely angelic voice. I was prepared. The conversation went something like this:

Dad: I'm having a really nice time talking with you, and I'm really afraid that you might just dissapear - as happened with others - so what if we exchange numbers?

Paula: I'm having a really nice time as well with you, but sadly I've been catfished a lot, and I'm really cautious when it comes to strangers on the internet...:( But anyways, as I'm really liking you, I'll make a kind of exception. Give me your phone number, we'll communicate on WhatsApp, so we don't lose contact, but promise me that you will not call me until I say that I'm feeling ready!

Dad: I can totally understand that, and I respect it. So let's do it your way. :)

When I pressed enter on the catfish message to send, I felt like I was pressing the button that dropped the nuke on Hiroshima. I was feeling the justice enter my pleasure receptors slowly, bit by bit. It was the best thing I had felt every since Lilith entered my life.

This goes on in WhatsApp, I'm taking a screenshot of everything that I think will hurt Lilith. After a week of talking I have everything that I want to send her. But I needed to make it believable, otherwise it will be an obvious catfishing, and I'm sure my Dad eventually would have traced it back to me. However, I had a plan for this as well. Remember when I said my Dad plays Squannis and Paula loves sports but lives in island B, where Lilith and faimily are located? You better do, because this is where it becomes important. Naturally, as any girl who is interested in a guy, will try out his interests. In this case Squannis. So Paula, after my Dad told him about Squannis, decided to get a lesson from a friend of hers, so when she meets with my Dad, they'll be able to play together. But would you know, on a little fucking hispanic island with extended family all over it, this friend happened to be related to Lilith's family. And would you know, Paula was telling him about this new guy she met on a dating site, who is from XX country and that's why she's taking lessons. After more chit-chat, the friend realizes that this guys is indeed my Dad, and proceeds to tell Paula that he has been in a relationship with Lilith for a few years now. So Paula confronts my Dad about this, who is in complete shock and panic mode. My absolute favourite thing was telling him the lines "I KNEW I COULDN'T TRUST PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET, YOU ARE THE SAME CHEATING PIG AS ALL OTHER MEN". After getting the last kicks in I blocked my Dad from every possible way of communication on all of Paula's accounts.

But here comes the sweet part. Lilith. My dear, dear Lilith. I tell her the same story about Squannis that I told my dad, then proceed to send her every screenshot, every piece of conversation that I knew would hurt her. Every sentence where my Dad describes the perfect ideal of a woman, and it's exactly the opposite of her. Every message where my Dad says things to Paula that Lilith always wanted to hear but never got. Sweet fucking Jesus, it felt good.

The aftermath:

After being in a position of power, and being the saint that never cheated in the relationship, my Dad got confronted by Lilith. By confronted I mean traveling to us on island A, knocking hysterically on the door at 2am, while I can't make out anything of what she says because of the fucking tsunami machine that her face has become. Oh, and the screeching. It was like a group of younglings racing on who could scratch the blackboard harder to make to most unpleasant sound. I'm loving every tear, and every moment of it. She is truly suffering. I destroyed the very pillars that held up her personality. I went into a porcelain shop with a fucking sledgehammer. They break up. Lilith is throwing punches. Police is called. In a fit of rage Lilith makes the mistake of hitting one of the officers. I've never seen 180~kg slammed into the ground with such grace. It was truly glorious. As police is escorting her out, I'm looking her dead in the eye. I can see into her soul, and I can see that the person she was is destroyed. As I'm looking her dead in the eye, I'm having the most shit eating grin a human can possibly enforce on it's face. Ultimately, we moved back to our home country.

Oh, and guess who has lost her teaching licence? If you guessed, Lilith, you guessed right. Turns out after this incident she had to go under a really strict psychological examination, which was a long time coming imo, where they determined she is unfit for teaching. Big fucking surprise.

TL;DR: Dad moves away from country and dates maniac, lets maniac viciously abuse son so Dad doesn't have to move back. Son reveals Dad is cheating, crushing Maniacs soul and indirectly causes Maniac to lose job and livelihood, and forces Dad to move back.

(source) (story by shiny-poopstorm)

[heartfulofsighs]

Baggage Claim  Pt. 2

Description: Seunghoon back from a business trip only has a mind for growing his company. You are in the middle of running from the by the book life that was drowning you. When a minor inconvenience sets you in his path will you be the reason he eases up? And could he be what you need to get serious again? 

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 

I’m sticking to deadlines people! Who would have thought. Also please bear with me while I set this all up lol. @negrowhat at this point I feel like you have to get tagged in everything I put out. About 2.7k

It was supposed to be simple. He had texted you the address and after pulling out your laptop you were sure you had your route down.

    Cherry had woken up with you the next day, “if I didn’t have a job today I would go with you.” She said as she made breakfast. She refused to let you leave without eating. Maybe the breakfast had given you a false sense of security. Maybe Cherry seeing you off with a wave and a, “please call when you get there,” made you feel as if everything was going to be easy. You hauled his bag down the stairs and set off for the station. And literally everything was downhill from there. 

The streets were packed. You wanted to get there early and by taking a certain train you would be able to see more of the city. The crowd slowed you down though and you missed the train you wanted. The earlier train meant you weren’t going to have to rush. It meant that you could take your time and read the signs in the station to make sure you were picking the right exit. This of course didn’t happen. The whole well thought out plan didn’t happen. What did happen involved you rushing. You took the later train, rushed and didn’t read the sign. You took the wrong exit. The one that sent you off in the opposite direction of the cafe. You wanted to stroll. Instead you walked quickly dragging his bag wishing that you could get this whole thing over so your real vacation could begin. By the time you found the cafe you were annoyed and over everything. It was thankfully empty. You pushed your hair out of your face and that’s when you saw him. It had to be him.

He was dressed in a dark blue suit. His tie was loose as if he had pulled on it but that was the only thing that was out of place. His hair was styled with incredible precision. It was dark nearly as dark as his eyes. His face was smooth serious plains, you could guess he wasn’t a smiler. His phone was out and he was scrolling through it. His legs were long. You were use to being the tallest person in the room but he truly had you beat.You took a breath and he looked up in your direction.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had expected a certain person. A small girl with something like a plucky attitude. He saw you walking up with his bag pure determination on your face. You were not small. You were tall, your eyes nearly reaching his nose. You also weren’t smiling. You were lugging his bag behind you. In his estimation you looked as if you were over the whole thing.

“Are you Seunghoon?” You asked. He nodded a bit stunned. You were determined. Oddly adorably determined. He could see it in the way your mouth was set. You pushed your hand through your hair and pulled his bag forward.

“Sorry I’m late,” you started, “I got a little lost.”

“I can tell.” He said it before he could stop himself. He was so use to being sarcastic, usually people brushed it off or chuckled. But you did neither. The look on your face moved into complete annoyance in a matter of seconds. Your eyes darted to your bag, just behind his legs, “well I wouldn’t want to take up anymore of your time,”

He felt...strange. For some reason he didn’t want you to have a bad impression of him. He wanted you to at least not think if him as an asshole.  

    “I’m sorry,” he stood straight from the counter and cleared his throat, “I-”

    “No, it’s fine...you’ve probably been waiting, I took the later train and-” You stopped talking. Cutting yourself off abruptly. You took a breath and then actually forced a smile. He saw the effort and it made him feel even worse. He wanted it to be genuine.

    “Lemme get you a coffee, or a tea…” He offered. He saw you thinking about it. You had an expressive face and he could see you mentally going back and forth.

    “And a danish?” He added. That made the decision. You nodded. He led the way to a table, “so which one, coffee or tea?” He asked as he pulled out a chair. You sat with a huff and he waited for your answer patiently. In the time it took for you to decide, he saw you trying to calm yourself.  You took large breaths, you played with your fingers, and then you finally looked up at him.

“Do they have hot chocolate here?” You asked him. He cocked his head, he hadn’t ordered one of those in years.

“Yeah, they have them here.” He finally said. He made to walk away then turned before he had gotten to far, “do you want whipped cream?” He asked. A smile stretched across your face. A genuine one. The expression felt warm, he liked it.

“Yes please.”  

  A lot of your early morning frustration was melted by the hot chocolate that Seunghoon set in front of you along with a pretty sizable cheese danish. You sipped your cup and settled further into your chair.

“So, I’m guessing you’re on vacation?” He asked. You nodded and took another sip. Enjoying the warm chocolate and especially the whipped cream. You hummed to yourself content, it took you a moment to realize that he was waiting for you to speak.

“You’re from here right?” You asked.

“Yeah, I’m back from a business trip.” He explained.

“What do you do?” You asked as you took a piece of the danish. You chewed waiting for his answer. He picked up his own cup.

For some reason you were feeling talkative, maybe it was the warm feeling from the drink? Maybe it was from the joy of actually sitting down. Or the fact that you had your bag back.

“Marketing,” He said, he pulled a piece of danish and chewed.

“What about you?” He asked. You were knocked off your cloud almost instantly. That’s right you were, basically unemployed.

“I’m not really in anything right now.” You said truthfully. He thought about what you said for a moment then shrugged. If he was judging you his face never gave it away. You twiddled your fingers in your lap and looked around at the cafe.

“Listen,” he began, after popping another piece of danish in his mouth, “do you want me to give you a ride back?” When you turned your eyes to his he looked just a touch concerned.

“I don’t want you to get lost again…” he said.

“I’m fine.” You pushed every bit of confidence into your voice, “I don’t have to rush back so it should be easy getting to my airbnb.” Because you didn’t want to impose on him anymore. It was bad enough your bags were switched in the first place.

“Alright if you’re sure.” He said. You nodded and decided to make that your cue. You stood taking your cup but leaving the rest of the danish to him. You waved, “thanks so much and I’m sorry that this whole mix up happened in the first place.” It sounded a little fake to your own ears but what else was there to say. You were sure he was busy. He had places to be. He stood with you, “don‘t be sorry. It was an honest mistake.” He said. He adjusted his jacket then grabbed his bag.

Outside in the sunlight he made sure to pull his sunglasses out of his jacket pocket. He watched you try to lug your bag, in the opposite direction of the station. He should have just let you go. He had his bag and you had yours. He definitely didn’t owe you anything but he couldn’t help himself. He followed you stopping you by clearing his throat.

“You’re going the wrong way.” He said when you turned. Your mouth took on this defiant tilt and he knew immediately you were going to argue. He shouldn’t have said anything, should have let you just stroll off and be done with it.

“I’m-”

“How about this.” He began before you could really get going, “I’m going to drop you off in the neighborhood your staying at. I won’t know which building it is and it’ll save you lugging that bag on a train.” He said. He imagined he would wonder all the rest of the day if you made it back. This was his way of fending that worry off and keeping his mind on things that were important.

“Just wait for me to get my car from the buildings valet.” He said. He waited for you to agree.

“No.” You said quietly, “just point me in the right direction. I don’t need you to go out of your way.” You pushed. He was momentarily stuck without much to say. He buttoned his jacket and nodded, “ok,” he pointed up the street in the opposite way you were headed, “the station is that way.”

Off you went without another word. He watched you eventually putting his hand to his bag and rolling it away.

Despite his best efforts he did think of you on his way home. He thought of you as he rode the elevator up to his apartment. When he walked in he had built himself up to a good silent pout. He pulled his bag to one of his couches and opened it. Everything was just as he had packed it. If only Mino had left your things alone. You had managed to leave all of his clothes untouched. He frowned as he began taking out things that needed dry cleaning and things that he could wash at home. After a while of brooding his phone rang, “hello?” He put the phone on speaker as he balled up a pair of socks.

“Hey, let’s get dinner?” Mino’s voice called. Hoon rolled his eyes, “I don’t feel like it.” He stated.

“You never feel like it...come on we should celebrate a good meeting!” He pushed.

“We don’t know if it’s good or not.” He countered. He could almost feel his friend’s frustration through the phone. But he wasn’t wrong. Seungyoon had seemed interested in becoming their client but no paperwork had been signed. He rightfully wanted to think about it. He heard a hard sigh from his phone, “well I’ll come over then.” He concluded.

“No,” Hoon said firmly, “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Stuff?” Mino echoed.

“Yeah, laundry.” He explained. Another pause this one long enough to think maybe the phone had cut off. But Mino was still there, “ahhhhh you got your bag back right?”

“Yeah.” He said.

“Was she pretty? Did you guys hit it off?” He asked. He thought of you. You were pretty of course. He thought of how tall you were, how you glowed from (he guessed) rushing from the train. Even though you had refused his offer, there was something to be said about a strong personality. He liked that you had stood your ground.

“We literally just switched bags, and she went back to her airbnb. Nothing special.” He stood up juggling socks and underwear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, we have a lot to work on.” He said seriously.

“Fine, fine. See you tomorrow.” The line cut and he started towards the washer in the back of his apartment. He dropped a pair of socks that bounced under his love seat. He couldn’t reason while the laundry was annoying him so much. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was a little worried about whether you had made it back or not. Your bag had been much heavier than his. He hoped that your destination was close. He didn’t want to imagine that you had a long way to go or that you could possibly get lost again. You weren’t his problem anymore. He had his things back. Why worry? He went back and forth with himself as he loaded his washer, then went back for the lone pair of socks that had tried to escape him. He was on his hands and knees slapping his hand underneath his couch. He felt something that wasn’t the fabric of socks. He pulled it out and stared down at the card with the wild flowers on the front, he opened it. A picture fell out face down on the carpet, he read the writing on the back outloud.

“Here’s hoping you find this smile again. I miss it.” It was signed ‘mom’ and he wondered who’s mom wrote it.

He flipped the picture over and there you were. The camera was centered on you, wearing a green dress at what looked like a beach. You were beaming. Smiling so brightly your eyes were nearly closed. He felt that smile in his chest. It was so strong it caused him to grin as he looked down at it. It took a moment for him to realize that he was smiling like an idiot at his floor. What the hell was he supposed to do with it? The socks were forgotten. He stood up your picture in hand, he could call you but then he would have to explain that he opened your bag. That was something that he didn’t have the energy for at the moment. Instead of calling he walked to his fridge and hung the picture there with a magnet. He could worry about it later.

The train ride back was much easier. You looked out the window and thought about your encounter with Seunghoon. He was a man who was use to people obeying. You could tell that right off the bat. It wasn’t a bad thing and it made sense to you since he ran his own business but it wasn’t something you were going to feed. You had just escaped an office of that. You didn’t want to go back.

Once you had your things in your Airbnb you went about the task of putting everything away. Cherry was still at work so you had the whole space to yourself. It was quiet and peaceful. The window in your room letting in tons of calming light. This was what you wanted to get out of leaving. Peace. Maybe you thought a little about Seunghoon’s serious face but only to consider what he would look like if he smiled. Wouldn’t that be something to see? The serious plans of his face shifting into something soft. You considered it more and more. Until you realized you were lost in a daydream and snapped out of it.

Before you had set off on your trip you had time to list places that you wanted to go. It was long and diverse, filled with things that interested you. When Cherry got home you were looking through it at the kitchen table.

“Hey!” She called. Her voice filling up the space. You smiled at her as she shrugged her jacket off and came to sit with you, “did you get your stuff? You never texted me...I was a little worried.” She confessed.

“Sorry, yeah I got it.” You said.

“What was he like?” She asked quietly, “from the voicemail he sounded really....businessy.” She said with a laugh. She was right about that. He was very professional very to the point. But he hadn’t been rude.

“He was nice. He tried to give me a ride home...but I figured that wasn’t smart.” You explained. Her face formed a thoughtful frown. You wished you looked pretty when you frowned.

“Well I’m glad you got it back.” She said. Then she was standing up and walking to the fridge, “did you eat? I’m starving.” She stated. You volunteered to cook for her since she had made you breakfast. You were never a champion cook but you knew how to feed yourself. She didn’t complain, in fact she complimented your hamburgers as you sat back at the table.

“Wouldn’t it be funny,” she spoke between bites, “if you and that guy were like meant to meet?” She finished. You shrugged, “I don’t think things like that happen in real life.” You confessed. She pouted again.

“It happens.” She asserted. “I bet you that fate will just keep pushing you two together...mark my words.”

You didn’t want to argue. There was no point to it. Even if she was right nothing would come of you two meeting. Even though this trip was long it still had an end date. A time when you had decide what you were going to do with yourself. You didn’t need some guy complicating something that was already pretty complicated.

[thelonelytraveler11]

Is this really the best I can do?!

It's been three years since I've done any form of research. I haven't worked in almost three years. Just in case anyone's wondering, yes, I filled out job applications (a lot, like ~250 before I gave up). For the past couple years, I've been living off my savings, the little bit of money I get from my family, and the little bit of money I get from having part time jobs. My work experience since dropping out has been pretty dismal (on average), I haven't been able to hold down a job that gave an appreciable amount of money for longer than 3 months at a time without being fired or being so miserable that I just said "fuck it" and quit.

I understand the concern some may have. You may consider it my fault for being unemployed. Quitting a job that I'm miserable while doing may seem irrational or irresponsible, but speaking as a person who spent almost the entirety of his college years being miserable, I can say with all honesty that being broke is better than being miserable. I envy those that can’t seem to comprehend my way of thinking, because that probably means they have a very good life. I wouldn't want to work in an environment that negatively affects my emotional state for 4 decades anyways. Having disposable income isn’t more important than my well being. Having a job I actually enjoy doing is very important to me because I don't have many sources of happiness in my life.

I'm kind of a loner. I don't have a strong relationship with any of my relatives and I don't have friends anymore (and even more troubling, I don't care to have those types of relationships anymore). The only potential source of happiness is my job. I don't foresee me failing in love or developing a close relationship with anyone. If the current trend continues, I think its more probable that it doesn’t happen.

I feel numb most of the time and when I do feel something, I'm usually thinking about my college days and that something is usually anger. It honestly was my biggest regret, going to the University of Illinois. Sometimes I wished I never went to college. Literally the only thing that was even remotely good about my college experience was my grades, everything else sucked. Looking back, I wish I went back to working at CVS after I graduated from HS.

In the alternate timeline, I probably would have been better off in the long run (very little stress, no debt, live rent free at my mom's house for a couple of years after graduation while working a presumably full time job which would enable me to save up a fair amount of cash before moving out). Instead, I came away with nothing. My college education was completely worthless, I reaped no benefits from being a degree recipient. All I did was waste 7 years of my life and thousands of other people’s dollars studying stuff that ultimately wouldn't matter. If I were a benefactor for the UIUC department of chemistry, I would be pissed to hear my story because that means my money isn't being put to good use, especially if I added into one of the scholarships that was awarded to me.

So, I know what your wondering, why am I writing this post? Well, I was trying to get ride time with CFD and I called for a specific person that wasn't in. Someone took a message and wrote my name down as Joel Dennison. Dennison was the last name of the NMR guy at UCI. That got me thinking about my college days and how I hated basically everyone. I caught myself looking through emails and for the most part, the more I read, the more I remembered, the more enraged I got. Now that's one sure fire way to put me in a bad mood, get me thinking about the bad ol' days. I bet many of the people I went to grad school with are enjoying their careers, while I was completely forgotten (and if they're not enjoying them, well at least they have them).

I’ve always wondered why were the other students so complicit? Is racism really that prevalent? Is there something else going on? See, it's one thing to not say anything while they were still students because it runs the risk of them being treated like I was treated. But to not even offer a helping hand even after their careers were established, knowing what they know, is un-fucking-real.

I never really felt welcomed in chemistry. People seemed to be more in love with the idea of me. I noticed the longer I stayed, the worse I was treated. At U of I, it was .... kinda bad. I experienced a form a discrimination where I would have written essentially the same answer as my lighter counterparts but received lower grades (slightly lower, but still). People assumed I did well in certain classes because the professor "liked me" (pretty sure no one at U of I liked me much). People also made statements that are crazy racist and then tried to pass them off as jokes. I fucking hated life in Champaign-Urbana.

SIDE NOTE: the following story doesn't necessarily reflect the chemists, but it does represent a subset of the student body at U of I. So, I'm sitting in the cafeteria with three dudes I already knew and some guy from the next table looks over to me and says "Sorry, if I offended you". I calmly replied "what did you say?" And Oh....My....God.... the look of utter fear was plastered all over his face. I said, "What did you say?", again, calmly. I can not stress enough that I was visibly calm throughout this entire situation. And then I noticed he was shivering, I figured I would warm up a lil bit by using my hot ass breath, so I repeated the question louder and slower (you know, to give the guy's body time to come to thermal equilibrium), again.......calmly. He was still frozen in fear. So now I am mentally gearing up to jump across this table to snatch this little boy's neck out from under him. And then something miraculous happened, my tunnel vision broke down and I realized someone was calling me. It was Jon (one of the kids I was sitting with) telling me to drop it...so I did......so, yeah, that's the story of how I almost got kicked out of U of I for snatching the neck out from under some little white kid during sophomore year. 


But there was one instance of me being the butt of racist jokes in chemistry that I can remember. Then UIUC grad student, John Overcash (who I believed worked for Ken Suslick), made mention of me "cooking crack up in the kitchen" on more than one occasion. Apparently, since I was a black chem major (that specialized in organic chemistry) I must have been a drug dealer beforehand. Or maybe he thought I was a drug dealer then....who knows...

To make matters worst, people have used the stuff other people made up to put themselves a head of me. Senior year I had an interview with eli lilly. My interview was at 9 am and there was one person interviewing before me at 8 am. The 8 am slot was taken by one Joseph Cullen (a fellow undergrad). During the end of his interview , I could vaguely hear what was said, but it sounded like Cullen told the interviewers that I was a drug dealer. The door opens up, the interviewer shoots me a look and goes into the room where my interviewers were and talks to them. Meanwhile Cullen walks past me. I give him a thumbs up and he walks away chuckling to himself. These are not good signs. I can’t say for certain that these people really believed I was a drug dealer, but their behavior suggested it. It was their reaction to me saying the phrase "nice white crystalline product", that’s what suggested it. I was describing the physical characteristics of the product from a reaction I ran and it just so happen to be a white crystalline solid (...smh). What I want to know why were these people so quick to believe Cullen? Yes, what Cullen said could be true (which it wasn't) but couldn't it also be true that he's trying to give himself a better chance of getting a job by undercutting the competition?

I wish I got a job offer as an undergrad. I honestly didn't want to go to grad school, but I had no other choice. Visiting grad schools was a whole ordeal, I was told in one way or another that I wasn’t welcomed ... at every school. At Scripps I was told explicitly that I wasn’t good enough to be there by complete strangers (how exactly would they know given that they never assessed my ability to think ... who knows). At Indiana University, I was placed in a hotel room by myself because they heard I slept naked. At UCI, I was told that I wouldn’t make it pass my first year (again, by complete strangers). At Caltech, I was told I didn’t belong because I was a drug dealer (or that I look like a drug dealer, apparently).

Now, I ask you, how do drug dealers look exactly? What are they’re defining characteristics? I ask because if you asked someone who lived in Champaign-Urbana for four years to imagine what a drug dealer looks like, they might imagine a srcawny white boy in a frat (not someone that looks like me). What makes the Caltech visit even weirder was that Prof. Sarah Reisman was just standing by, staring at me while I was being told I didn’t belong (by the help, you know, the people who was serving drinks). It was like she was trying to read my facial expressions to get a sense of what type of person I was (or am). Or was she using the help as a proxy to express her own thoughts (I’m not sure)? Was she waiting for me to “defend myself”? 
How would I be able to do that exactly?

SIDE NOTE: it’s impossible to defend yourself when there’s no evidence for or against whatever accusations there may be. It all comes down to what people choose to believe. The help has already chosen to believe I’m a drug dealer (or at least look like one) and I’m willing to bet there’s really nothing I can really do about.

No matter how I analyze the situation, Reisman’s behavior does not reflect positively on her as a person. I’m not sure if she knows this, but she was the primary reason I had to not go to Caltech. I found her behavior to be very off-putting and I got the sense that she didn’t really want me to go to school there. On top of that there was talk of her wanting to have (oral) sex. 


DISCLAIMER: I am effectively asexual, I don’t have sex ... with anyone ... or anything (yes, I actually needed to say both).

Now, I didn’t believe the talk when I first heard it because I thought there was no way a self-respecting, competent professor would admit to wanting to engage in a sexual relationship with a perspective student ... this is what I choose to think. However, the more I heard of her desires to have (oral) sex, the more I believed it. But I never fully accepted the rumors as the truth until my first year at UCI. Reisman came to Irvine for a talk and as always almost all the Organic students showed up. Before the event, I was sitting at the small table with another grad student in my year, her name was Beth R. (I don’t know how to spell her last name and I’m not going to try to google it). Beth ended up mentioning how pretty Reisman looked .... I “mmmhmmm”ed her. I could hear the chatter going on behind me, Reisman seemed mildly disappointed that I didn’t agree. Beth soothed her ill feelings by saying that I didn’t disagree. After the event, I was talking to Prof. Scott Rychnovsky and Reisman came up in the conversion. This was the final nail in the coffin that made me believe the rumors were true. It wasn’t the fact that he said she would’ve blown me, it was the fact that he said it soooo enthusiastically. He was as enthused as a person could possibly be in a professional/academic setting. No one should that enthused by the thought of a man getting his dick sucked as much as Rychnovsky was by the thought of Reisman putting my dick in her mouth, no one. It was kinda weird. 


The thought this woman hocking loogies on my dick tip, and imagining the sensation of warm saliva slowly rolling down my shaft (as I quote lines from the movie, Shaft (the Samuel L. Jackson version...obviously)) as I knock my head back, praying to god that I don’t come away from this situation with paper cuts (she has thin lips) just to look back down after noticing she paused just so she could fill the waves from my pulsating erection and make eye contact as she goes deeper and increases the pace eventually moving to the point where she starts straggling my balls and moaning like Lady Gaga singing a lullaby to baby while stroking my hard cock until I cum for her as Nicole Nava sits beside her while taking notes shouldn’t be even remotely amusing.....TO ANYONE...EVER!!!!!! But apparently to Rychnovsky, it was. It was at that moment I never wanted to be affliated with Caltech as long as Reisman was there. If Caltech and Illinois were the only two places that offered me jobs after finishing the PhD, I’d have to change careers.


Okay, so here’s the thing. I don’t really view professors as people. When I was a student, they were more like encyclopedias that could talk to me. They simply took the form of a human, kinda like a barbie doll. They’re anatomically incorrect, they lack genitalia, so they don’t have a gender. I honestly, believed this. One time, during senior year, I walked in the third floor bathroom in RAL and I saw Prof Steven Zimmerman taking piss. My face immediately screws all the way up, my inside voice says “How is he standing up and taking a piss when he doesn’t have a dick?”.....I thought that....I literally thought that....I shit you not. Just so you know, it wasn’t just Zimmerman, it was every professor. The women are doubly dickless, in my mind Suzanne Blum was like —(Mia Khalifa) because she has negative two dicks inside of her at all times.

DISCLAIMER: just so we’re clear, I’m NOT alluding to the fact that Blum has to get people to agree to have sex with her. Nor am I alluding to the assertion she’ll probably be nothing more than an afterthought for literally anyone. I’m merely trying to stress the fact that I don’t think of professors as people, but as encyclopedias that can talk to me.

I was made to feel unwlecomed at every school I visited. Why? Well, you'll have to ask them. I can honestly say that by the time graduation (from U of I) came around I didn't believe that i would have a successful career as a chemist, but I put everything into this so I couldn't just leave...

Grad school was even worst because on top of being the black kid, I was also the social pariah. The other students did a real good of making me feel unwelcomed. So much so that after two weeks of living in Irvine I stopped trying to make friends. No one seemed interested in being cool with me (I'm basing this off people's behavior ... obviously). And if some of them were, the way they showed it was so unique that I couldn't even recognize it as a sincere attempt to get my attention.

I also experienced some the same stuff I did when I was at U of I. Namely, instructors not giving me what I earned. In Dave VanVraken’s class I always received the second highest score on the exams. The really curious thing is that no one knows who received the top score. Once, when I asked to see the printed out distribution, the TA refused to show me (why?). I'm willing to bet that single point ahead of me was a dummy point. In Liz Jarvo’s class, when the first exam came around, we found out the high score was a 83. Who got the high score?...no one knows, but when I received my test the number 38 was written on (Also note I just so happen to get the same score as the other kid from U of I). At first, I was puzzled and glanced over to Peg (the TA). She sees my score, turns to Jarvo and says "he knows he didn't get that low". While I don't remember Jarvo’s exact words, she stated in some way that I would come to her and argue my case for a higher grade. So, here's the thing. I shouldn't have to defend myself or argue with you to ensure that I'm treated like everyone else. It should be a given. 


From what I hear the reason why I was treated this way has something to do with them not wanting me to "talk stuff" to the other students. 


Okay, so where is this coming from? I ask because I’ve been me long enough to know their opinion of what I’m like isn’t actually based off me. If they actually talked to my fellow classmates, the most common thing you’d probably hear is that I’m quiet. So either these people are just making up stuff to justify treating me how they want to treat me or my classmates are liars. I’m not really the type to talk about my grades (or really anything) unless the topic is explicitly brought up in conversation (and this is assuming I feel like talking at all). You can dress it up however you want, but treating me like a second class student for any reason solely reflects poorly on you (it gives no indication as to what I’m like). There were instances like this in half the classes I took. Some, admittedly were a smaller deal than others. In Vanderwal’s class I got marked off once because I didn’t draw both arrows in a mechanism that included a homolytic cleavage. For those that don’t know, if a homolytic cleavage occurs and you show one electron going in one direction, it is assumed that the other electron goes in the opposite direction and therefore does not need to be explicitly stated (minor, but mildly annoying). In polymer chemistry (taught by Aaron Esser-Khan), we had one assignment where we needed to propose something that wasn’t in the primary literature. I proposed a polymerization based off a derivative of the Hiyama coupling. Khan’s critique was that since it wasn’t already in the primary literature, it probably wasn’t a good idea ... really?! And don’t even get me started on spec because that spec TA was sketchy as fuck. He intentionally told me the wrong due date for a homework assignment and I’m pretty sure he shaved a couple points off one of my exams...

Okay, so these experiences are only a subset of the shitty things I experienced as a UCI student. But do you know what made life at UCI worst than life at U of I? My research advisor (Suzanne Blum)....and to a slightly lesser extent my fellow group members. Over the years I grew to hate them. I was lied about, I had a homework assigns hidden behind water coolers (Darius Faizi), I’ve had the nitrogen lines removed from air sensitive reactions (Darius Faizi, Suzanne Blum), I had products from reactions switch out for reagent alcohol (it’s a mixture of ethanol, methanol, and isopropanol) (Josh Hirner), I’ve had septums removed from reaction mixtures (Josh Hirner), I’ve had people try to placate me with sex (Katrina Roth), I’ve had people try to use the fact that I was in an agitated state to get something they wanted (Katrina Roth), I’ve had people turn on the indoor lights in my car in an effort to drain my battery while I’m allowing them to use my car to practice driving so they can get a U.S. driver’s license (Muhammed Al-Amin), I’ve had people ask questions just so they can not listen to the answer (Chao Zheng, Drew), I’ve experienced asking people for help just so they can not even try to help brainstorm what the answer could be (Darius Faizi, Kim Tu), I helped others brain storm shortcomings for a proposal, just to catch an attitude when they realize I didn’t catch everything the first time around (Quinn Easter). 


SIDE NOTE: To provide context, Quinn asked me to look through a synthetic route in his proposal that he was intending to present in his advancement to candidacy exam. There was something I didn’t immediately see but did bring up during a group when he was giving a practice presentation. He became visibly upset and mentioned he thought I was trying to make him look bad. If I was really trying to make you look bad, I wouldn’t have told you anything, so that you would’ve made the same mistakes when it actually mattered. Quinn, you’re an idiot.  


l’ve had people call me after I already dropped out and given up on chemistry from a redacted telephone number claiming to be an official representative of UCI calling me in an effort to get my address (Suzanne Blum, Ashley Davis), and I’ve had the experience where I ask for information pertinent to group website maintenance and they act like I’m hitting on them (Adena).

SIDE NOTE: 
This is something that always amused/offended me, having  someone assume I’m attracted to them because I acknowledged their existence. It’s funny because because they have the audacity ... but it’s also offensive because the operating assumption is that I don’t have standards, which couldn’t be further from the truth. (They seem to make a lot of faulty assumptions)

What was this experience suppose to teach me? How was I supposed to become a better person or scientist because of my affiliation with the group/university? Me coming to Irvine and working for Blum was a total waste of my time. I’m not entirely sure what her deal was, but it seemed she had a preconceived notion of who I was. No matter what type of relationship we have (or suppose to have) this will cause problems where there shouldn’t be. 


Is the request that someone’s opinion of you is actually based on you too much to ask for? Because I feel it’s a basic request that most people should be able to easily do. The contemptuous treatment did subside with time (mostly because I avoided talking to other students when ever possible) but it never really stopped. Why did it start to begin with? I’m willing to bet the only things they don’t like about me has everything to do with me reacting to the way they treat me.  Again, I have to ask, is racism really that prevalent?


Then one day, I started getting so fed up with life that I decided I needed an escape, even if it’s only for a couple weeks. So, I started planning a trip to Europe. I worked hard in the weeks coming up to the trip. I was trying to finish my entire project before I left (sadly, I didn’t, but I tried). Things were looking on the up and up. Before I left, Blum even said I was meeting her expectations, that was the nicest thing she ever said to me (it was the nicest thing anyone at UCI has ever said to me). I went off on my trip, and during the middle of it I received an email essentially telling me that my time at UCI was finished. Why? I still don’t know. 3 years later and I still don’t know why my career was ended before it was even given a chance to start.  It’s hard to move on with your life when you don’t have closure. It’s really hard to move on when you still have to live with consequences of other people’s actions.

 SIDE NOTE: I got the sense sometimes that Suzanne Blum did not really care about her job 100% of the time. I’m not entirely sure what to make of it. It’s like, either she truly didn’t understand the importance of her role (as the leader of a research group) or she truly doesn’t give a shit. Either way, she doesn’t deserve to be in the position she’s in. 


I still remember my last day in Irvine. It was bitter sweet. I was so happy to finally get to leave but also a bit anxious because I knew that the thousands of hours I spent studying and doing research was time wasted and it would never amount to anything. I knew I wasn’t going to get a job with my credentials. I even saw Eric (the other kid from U of I) in the student center when I went over to get lunch. He was looking at me all sad and shit because he knew I didn’t have a future in chemistry. We didn’t talk, we just walked past each other and exchanged glances. I tried to conceal a smile as I walked by. By the time my Dad’s flight landed, I had moved most of the stuff out my apartment. 


Life at home was hard. Depression is a mother fucker. I liken it to  a less severe version of sleep paralysis. I felt like I was stuck in my own body. Kinda like how I felt in the early Irvine days when it would take me hours to roll out of bed. I would literally wake at 6 am and just stare at the ceiling for ~4 hrs before I could convince myself to get up. And to make things worst, no emotional support was offered by my family. Their assumptions that I’m somehow responsible for other people’s actions along with their snide remarks about me being lazy did the opposite of help. I regretted coming home, even more so when I found out I somehow failed the background check for CPD. 


Now, how in the holy fuck does someone without a criminal record fail a background check? The only reasonable thing I could come up with to explain this is that the work experience I listed (my research experience) doesn’t count as work experience because instead of working for a salary, I worked for credit hours or a stipend. I have to tell myself things like this to convince myself I’m not getting screwed over in every facet of my life. If this is true, then my college experiences are doubly worthless because not only can the credentials I’ve earned not be used to get a job I’m more than qualified to do, but they can’t even get me a job you don’t even need a bachelor’s degree for.  


I wish I moved to LA after dropping out. If I stayed in Cali, I’d be force to move on with my life because I wouldn’t be able to sulk in my mother’s house for months. What would I do for work? idk...but I’d find something, and when I get fired, I’d just move on to the next dead end job.

As time went on, I found it easier to move, I still have scars though. Scars that may never heal. What can I do from here on out? I’m not sure. Going back to graduate school isn’t an option (or any program that requires letters of recommendations) because after experiencing what I’ve experienced and allowing those that I depended on for letters of rec to learn about my experiences, everyone seemed to be complicit. Either they didn’t do anything to change the course of action or it seemed like they were trying to cover it up by telling me to take the site down. I lost faith in everyone, I don’t think I can trust any of the profs to submit a letter of rec on my behalf when they either have done something that goes against my interests, are complicit in the wrong doing of others, or seem as though they’re attempting to cover up what happened to me. Even if I could get in anywhere, I still don’t want to go back to school. I lost faith in higher education. I lost faith in people. Whatever I do, I have to be able to do it without a college degree.

Just in case you’re wondering, I can’t depend on my college friends either. Mostly because I wasted no time trying to make friends. I’ve come to believe that friends are a worthless luxury.

I honestly believed that if I studied hard and knew my shit someone would hire me. I was wrong. I learned the hard way that to the outside world you are not you. You are not the sum total of your thoughts and actions. You are your skin color. You are your hair texture. You are the clothes you wear on your back. You are what people choose to believe you are. You are not you. People don’t care to get to know the people around them, they just want to feel as though their justified in believing the way they do. So I guess in order to get by in life you just need to be everyone’s friend and present yourself in such a way that everyone deems acceptable. Having the skills needed to do the job is more of an afterthought, huh? You know, one of the corollaries is that you’re expected to exhibit a certain level of extroversion. Welp, it just so happens to be the case that I’m an introvert and if the previous statements have some truth then I can honestly say this system was set up for me to fail. The only way I can get by in life is because I’m better than the other guy. No one will ever choose me because I’m their best friend.

I believe that’s where some of my problems stem from. When people see my face, they expect an extrovert (or at least someone who is more extroverted than me). When they find out I’m not who they want me to be, the reactions can range from essentially nothing, to mild disappointment, to mild hostility. And I think this is because people are more interested in the idea of me than actually getting to know me. So when they meet me and actually get to know me after building me up in their heads they’re kinda like “...oohh, this is it?!”. I don’t understand people. It’s like people just assume that you’re going to conform to their world view while refusing to even bend to yours. Now, I’m totally opposed to the very concept of “fitting in” because of all that. I got the sense “fitting in” means assimilation, which may involve losing qualities that make you unique (ones you may actually like about yourself). I don’t see why I should change in any way for people I don’t like, that I don’t see the benefit of being associated with, or for people that never liked me to begin with. People even sometimes mock my behavior, presumably because I’m not what they want me to be and this is just their way of trying to get me to conform.


The most recent example of this is my cousin Sonia (she’s multicultural). I went to her graduation party during the summer. And as with most family functions, it pretty much consisted of me sitting quietly most of the time. So fast forward to when it’s time to go home. My mother and 2/3 of my brother’s children are making their way to the car, noticing the third one is missing I go back for her. As I’m making my way up the front porch, three of my cousins (one of which is Sonia) are in my path and I say “watch out”. As I walk past Sonia, she says something along the lines of “woah, he must be serious....” while laughing... I’m going to say this once, “Mocking my behavior because I don’t act how you want me to act will never help anything”...... unless you’re actively trying to get me to dislike you. I have to remember that Sonia is just a child. Maybe it hadn’t dawn on her yet that there’s more to life than what she’s experienced. She’s probably never met a person like me, so she won’t know what to say in order to get me to interact with her. But then I’m like, “But what makes her think making herself look like an ass would actually help her in any capacity?” How does this explain the behavior of grown ass men and women who do the same thing?”. I wonder if it’s a cultural thing, and these people just don’t realize how bad they make themselves look to people that aren’t like them. 


On the way home, I started thinking, “Is this really the best I can do?”.  Have I been doomed to live a life where I’m not really happy? No, it can’t be the case. I still have faith. I may not have faith in other people anymore, but I still have faith in myself. I believe I can make something out of nothing, even if no one else does.

After going through all I’ve gone through, all I want is to not suffer anymore. I just want to be insanely rich for no reason. This won’t solve all my problems but it will eliminate many. If I ever come into having an ungodly amount of money, I’d give some of it to my family so they can afford many of the things that they want in life. Then I’d disappear, never to be seen or heard from again.


I’ve become acutely aware of the fact that people want to learn useless knowledge without ever having to talk to me.

DISCLAIMER: the knowledge is useless because we won’t/don’t have a relationship of any sort. Why waste your time learning information that isn’t relevant to your life?

So I’m going to take this opportunity to answers some personal questions because the thing I hated the most about you people is your unique combination of arrogance, ignorance, and obliviousness. While I can’t help with the arrogance and the obliviousness, I can help with your total lack of knowledge. So, without further ado ...

QUESTION TIME

Did you ever like life in Champaign county?

I was excited to be there in the beginning, then I met the people and all that excitement went away quick.

What’s your fondest memory from college?

That one time when Chipotle was doing that 2 for 1 deal. That was cold.

So, what’s up with your sexuality?

I don’t have sex because I don’t want to take the risk of having children, also no STDs. People were oddly obsessed with my sexuality and I never quite understood it. Here’s the thing, I’m a little self centered and I’m like you in the sense that I don’t immediately acknowledge other people’s way of thinking all the time. I honestly don’t understand why there was as much “interest” in knowing what I’m interested in (I use quotes because if people were actually interested they probably would have try talking to me). My viewpoint is that your claimed sexual orientation is irrelevant, it’s not even worth bring up in conversation. The reason why is simple. If you see a pretty girl and you know she’s interested in men, it doesn’t necessary mean she’s interested in you (assuming your male) right? That’s why the only thing that matters to me is whether or not the person I’m interested in is interested in me. 

It’s funny because if you completely ignore the fact that not everyone thinks like me, it would seem as though there were ALOT of dudes that wanted me to fuck them when I was in college.

To the people “interested” in knowing my sexual orientation. Ask yourself two questions. Do you want a shot? Do you think you have a shot? Think hard about it. If the answer to one of those questions is “no”, don’t waste your time.

If you haven’t already figured it out by now, I don’t think like a normal person. I’m never going to adjust or change to make you feel comfortable, the best thing I can do is not talk to you at all. I don’t adjust to you, you adjust to me. Why? because fuck you, that’s why.

Are you ever going to have sex?

Maybe, maybe not. What’s it to you?

Do you think people like you?

I know they don’t. Based off their actions, they don’t want to like me either. They’d spend less time gossiping about the negative characteristics I could have and more time actually getting to know me if they did.

You don’t think people know anything about you?

It all depends on what you think it means “to know”. Personally, I don’t. I’m never around people long enough for them to be able to get a true sense of who am I as a person. All people get are snapshots. Sadly, that isn’t good enough. That’s something I don’t think most people realize, actually.

What if after reading this, people actually started trying to get to know you, how would you react?

My recommendation is that you don’t waste your time. You can’t undo the damage that’s already been done. I’ve already stopped caring.

If you could go back in time and pick another college, which would you pick?

Xavier University in NOLA. I’d pick this HBCU because I’m fairly confident some of the problems I encountered at U of I wouldn’t have existed there.

Why did you choose UCI?

Because they told me I wasn’t going to make pass my first year.  I knew what type of student I was. I knew I had what it took to make it through any program. But I was at a low point in my life, where nothing seemed to be going right. I figure If I go there and get forced out after a year, it wouldn’t be my fault. The devastating thing is they let me get so close to graduating before just booting me out like they did.

Why did you use the word “they”?

Someone easily could have stepped in and did something. The department just enabled her (Suzanne Blum).

What grad program do you think you should have choose?

Indiana University or Rutgers probably would been better for me.

What motivates you to do well?

Meaningful positive reinforcement. Don’t just give out compliments for the sake of giving out compliments.

What’s one thing you hate most about people?

Their stupidity. Before I was told I failed the background check fro CPD. I’d get calls from some sort of case worker for CPD who was suppose to determine my eligibility. This dude asked me if I “resigned” from the Blum group and acted like that was a perfectly valid question. This wasn’t a job, it was a component of an academic program. I WAS A STUDENT. There was no resignation. You don’t resign from school. You either graduate, drop out, or get expelled. I know some college education is required for employment with CPD, so it’s far more likely that this guy is an idiot. REMEMBER GRAD SCHOOL IS STILL SCHOOL AND THERE ONLY 3 WAYS TO LEAVE.

Did you ever consider taking legal action?

Yes, but I know the people I’m dealing with aren’t above lying. Since there’s no physical evidence (that I have in my possession) proving that wrongs did occur, I’m reluctant to believe I’d actually win. It’s not smart to get into a “he said she said” battle with people that are believed to be pathological liars.

Are there any common misconceptions you’d like to clear up?

I wasn’t doing the school shit to make friends. I only wanted to make money. That’s the only reason why I was there, to make money. Every time someone why I as getting a PhD, my answer essentially went like, “I’m getting a PhD because money.” I see no point in trying to make friends with people who seemed to have been conditioned to dislike me.

Also, just because I’m quiet it doesn’t mean that I’m stuck up. It is in fact possible to be someone who isn’t a big talker.

Contrary to popular belief. I am in fact a HUMAN BEING. I have emotions and sometimes something could happen in one part of my life that can affect other parts of my life (like how well I do in school or how productive I am in lab).

Why did you just give up?

What’s the point of playing the game when you know you’ll never win.

It seems like the college years were a hard time for you, did you ever do something to ease the pain, like drugs or alcohol?

No, I love myself too much to potentially set myself up for problems later. I gave comedy a thought, but I found really hard to want to be funny when all I’m thinking about is the depressing shit that inspired the joke. If I’m gonna do something, it’s gonna be something were I don’t have to live with the consequences of my actions. I was suicidal. I was planning to kill myself the night before my thesis defense.

Why then?

I was fairly confident that no one there cared to save me from myself. But just in case someone wanted to surprise me, I figure it would be best to do when no one would expect it.

How?

potassium cyanide. The night before my defense I was going to make it my point to get a bottle of potassium cyanide. a couple months before my trip to Europe, I looked up who had it. It was on the fourth floor (or maybe the fifth). Go all the way down to the last lab space on the right hand side. When you walk into the lab space go along the right hand side and go through the door on your right. After that go to the first door on the right hand side. I placed a bottle on KCN in the first column on the left hand side, top shelf. The bottle should be on the wall on the left side (assuming it’s still in the same place I left it). I figured it wouldn’t get much use due to its inherent toxicity so it would probably be in the same place I left it when I needed it. I wouldn’t be surprise if the bottle is still in that exact spot.


Did you ever think about getting help?

From who? When I did finally ask for help, the first thing I was told was that the department sided with Blum (mind you this is before any type of investigation occurred). As soon as I posted the email from Chris Vanderwal on this blog, his tune changed immediately. But his actions didn’t reflect the words he put out in the public space. He was of no use. He had no interest in helping me in any capacity. I’m sure of it. I’m all alone in this world, I don’t have a safety net so if I fall, that’s my ass.

What about the professors from UIUC?

My previous statement stands. I had no one.

Is that why you started the blog? You felt like your were all alone and just wanted someone talk to, even if that someone was actually a void in space?

Yes, that’s exactly it.

Is that why you’re still posting, you still feel alone?

yes

But what about your family?

With them I’m a dependent not a provider. They’d be okay without me.

So have you really never sought out a therapist?

I couldn’t find steady work. I can’t afford it. Depression is a rich people disease. When you’re broke you’re just labeled as lazy.

What’s one thing you want everyone to know?

You shouldn’t let your assumptions or the assumptions of others affect how you treat me. Remember, you don’t know me. I could come to be your best friend, your faithful and supportive business partner, or the love of your life and you’d just let me slip away all because someone told you dislike me.

(Also, please don’t waste my time talking to me about all the typos I made)

[ssironstrange]

buckle in, i have some Personal Shit to get off my chest and fling into the void. might as well before i’m Purged, right? lots of triggery stuff ahead. 

so last week i got a job. it isn’t a spectacular job. the pay is shit and it’s extremely physically taxing. but it’s a job. i’ve been unemployed since july having put countless resumes out and done a handful of interviews with absolutely no luck. so we’re just happy i’m employed and going to have some income again.

on my very first day of orientation last week, my mom texts me asking me about christmas plans and i tell her i’m unsure what my schedule will look like while my brother is in town because i literally just started and don’t actually have any sort of schedule yet, obviously.

she proceeds to get pissed. starts calling me selfish for getting a job right before christmas. blames me for messing up plans because now she’s gonna have to work around my schedule. says i did this on purpose because i could have easily gotten a job like this at any time. i’m floored.

like, my mom is a grade A special class cunt, but she took it to new levels. i couldn’t even think of anything to say. i was so appalled and upset by the fact this woman couldn’t even say a simple “congrats” to her own daughter, knowing the troubling financial situation we’ve been in. eventually my s/o took my phone from me to text her himself because he was Done with her shit. i proceeded to have a mini-breakdown. i thought she had finally changed. like, i went without speaking to her at all for two years before because of bullshit like this she pulled on me in the past and told her if she wanted me in her life she needed to take a hard look at herself and change some shit. and she did. for a long while there she really did. she stopped drinking (she’s a raging alcoholic who will deny that until her dying breath) unless it was a special occasion and even then it was only like one glass. she started being nicer, friendlier, and a lot more grateful for the things we help her with. she stopped complaining and bitching about every possible thing. hell, she even started finding some social events to get out and go to. For a while she was actually kinda nice to be around for a change.

and then she did that and it made me realize nothing about her has actually changed. she can’t change. she has so many unchecked mental problems she refuses to see a doctor about. she’s in denial about 90% of them. she is sick, needs treatment, but refuses it at all. refuses to even acknowledge she’s sick. she’s extremely narcissistic. her selfishness knows no bounds. she honestly believes that giving $50 to someone in need while dropping $2k on herself(on shit she doesn’t need at ALL) is being generous. she has no concept of saving money. she has to spend it. she’s a hoarder and shopaholic. she’s paranoid of everyone and everything; everyone is out to get her, conspiring against her. any time her phone acts up she’s convinced someone is trying to hack her. a company accidentally overcharging her and she thinks someone within that company is personally trying to steal from her. she believes her doctors are trying to fuck with her when they’re literally just trying to obey the law. no matter what it is, its always about her. it doesn’t even fucking cross her mind even once what another person might be going through or dealing with or that accidents happen. she believes because a waitress working a double shift on thanksgiving didn’t bring her napkins in 5 seconds when she asked that she doesn’t deserve a tip. she feels personally attacked when i talk about her generation as a whole. she can’t ever be wrong. she believes because she’s older that she knows everything. she believes because she has had an encounter with something that it makes her an expert on it, or because she read 1 book or 1 unsourced article on the internet that she knows more. she believes, in her mind, that i am still 13 years old. honestly. she continuously pulls up weird shit from that time. thinks i still dress the same, still have the same preferences about everything no matter how many times i have told her “i haven’t like that since i was 12/13/whatever age.” hell she even talks to me like i’m a child half the time. She hasn’t worked a job since she was in her 30s and lies to live off the government, mooches from literally anyone she can, and gets oil royalties that she didn’t even do anything to invest in, she just inherited them. but then has the gall to bitch at me about jobs when i’ve been working since i was barely 15. she believes the world owes her. she believes that we kids owe her for being a mother and frequently tries to hold that over me as if that weren’t her fucking duty anyway when she decided to keep us. she is always angry and negative and prone to violence - especially while drunk. she has literally pointed a loaded, cocked gun at my chest, thrown glass dishes at me (which ended with glass shards in my hands and feet), dragged me by my hair, and has done ten times that in emotional abuse. she’s called the cops on my brother over an argument, and has thrown a computer monitor at me (one of those old CRT ones) because i said she was acting crazy. she would get so nasty with me my brother would have to step in and tell her to shut the fuck up. she didn’t even try to get me into counselling or therapy or even talk to me when she found out i was being sexually assaulted as a young child. all she did was remove me from the situation, which ultimately removed me from half of my family and didn’t explain why. she never told me is wasn’t my fault. she never talked to me about what sex actually was and how it’s supposed to be. she never told me about consent. she did nothing for me to cope with and process the years of physical and mental trauma i had endured, and i am still fucked up from it to this day because it defined my view of everything sexual. it created deep and strong neural pathways i’ll be lucky to ever be able to change. she went through my mail and read a letter to a long distance friend, finding out i was queer and genderfluid and outed me to the rest of the family, called me a disgrace and disgusting. she would go through chat logs and shame me about everything she could. she’s racist as fuck, still uses the N word, and has told me several times if i ever dated a black person she would disown me. she has always played favorites with my brother because he is the smart one, the one who graduated at 16 and got into university on full scholarship at 17, the one who has always been a social butterfly, extroverted with lots of friends, neurotypical by most standards, handsome and always had good taste in girls, successful in everything he does, and has a great career as an environmental engineer that pays well enough for him to take multiple overseas trips, pay off student loans(when he decided to switch majors and stay in college longer) and is just over all the perfect son (he and i have always gotten along fantastically. i love him immensely, but it’s no secret to either of us who she has always favored),and she’s an opioid addict - another thing she will deny until she’s dead. and thats just everything i can think of at the moment. theres more. theres always more.

so she texted me a couple days ago apologizing without actually apologizing. blaming her attitude on the fact her pain meds are being reduced (not once did she actually say sorry) and she’s been in a bad mood because of it. today she texted me, still without a real apology, just saying how she’s wondering how my job is going. but the truth is, i know she doesn’t give a fuck. she only wants to feel better about herself. she wants to believe she’s forgiven so she can have things her way again. she doesn’t actually give a shit about my feelings, about what she’s done to me, or about how this is the same cycle of bullshit we’ve been through countless times. she doesn’t care. 

and yet, i still find myself feeling guilty to cut her out like the tumor she is. despite everything she has done to me. i can’t help it and i wish i could. she has manipulated me so much throughout my life that i have an almost pavlovian response to feel like its my fault, that i’m the failure she’s always said i am, that i’m the one letting her down. i know i’m not. i know that isn’t the truth but it’s still there and i hate it. but still, i’m trying my best to just fucking ignore her. she doesn’t get to have the satisfaction of thinking all is well and forgiven. i’ve been through this too many times and frankly i’m just so fucking tired of it.

[ultjunsus]

Just ranting

Sometimes I really feel like even though I was diagnosed with selective mutism, that I don’t or more that I don’t anymore? Maybe it’s the fact that a lot of people now a days will say someones faking for attention or something along those lines. Even though I know I was diagnosed by a professional my mind tells me that I’m just faking it.

My life living with SM has been really rough. I was never really properly treated, I believe I was just given medication and went to occasional sessions where they didn’t work with me or even really address me. School was a roller coaster where I was fine with my friends but with anyone else it was hell, especially presenting. But I didn’t have a system set up for me and was forced to present even if I was on the verge of tears. And it only got worse as I went into middle and high school. I guess thankfully(?) by the time I went into high school I learned that no one understood why I’d stutter or sometimes have an actual breakdown about presenting or whatever in front of the class and my mom never talked to the school to set up any sort of system for me guess cause she thought I got through fine without it every other year. So I just “got over it” did what I had to and if the breakdown hit after it did. Mentally high school was the roughest part of my life. There were so many days I didn’t even have the energy to get out of bed. I’d have a C in one class and my father would lose his mind about it. And my mom who told me I could always talk to her would yell at me when I tried to tell her I needed a day to stay home due to bad mental health.

I got more comfortable in some classes but even those classes when I had to do certain things it would trigger and I’d shut down and no one would understand. Choir was a big example. I was really comfortable in there with my friends and my teacher but when it came around time for solos or anything where the class or my teacher had to hear me by myself I’d feel myself start to shut down. But I couldn’t explain it to them and I doubt it’d do me much good to try to. So i’d just somehow suffer through whatever it was and nearly breakdown if not completely breakdown after. It was so mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing.

I dunno how everyone else’s feels but I not only feel my ability to speak just stop I also tend to space out entirely and not register much. I get lost in my own head, playing all bad outcomes over and over in my head. I pick at something or fidget with something, or I’ve even rubbed a small portion of my skin raw without realizing it. My breathing becomes short and labored as I literally feel my chest and throat tighten. Sometimes I’ll even end up crying depending on how bad it gets. Maybe its because my untreated SM has stemmed into social and general anxiety as well as depression but its such a horrible experience.

I’m now 21 and I’ve had 1 job and it was possibly the worst experience of my life. The job pushed me to my lowest and I’ve been stuck here since. My breakdowns have been happening more often than I’d like to admit. There was a point where i’d come home and breakdown nearly every day after work. I dreaded going but I couldn’t bring myself to quit. Then Harvey hit and our store flooded and we were expected to go to nearby stores while they remodeled but it took me so long to get at least mostly comfortable with everyone in our salon I couldn’t bring myself to go through all that again with new people it took a lot out of me to do it the first time. That on top of how bad my mental state was because of the job I just couldn’t. So I took that opportunity to quit. I haven’t been employed since but that’s because my mom kept telling me not to because of her and my dad’s clashing work schedules and my lack of license and car so I wouldn’t have a reliable ride to and from. So we put it off.

I quit back in Aug of 2017 and the entire time I’ve been unemployed I’ve felt like garbage for not working but every time i brought it up my mom just brushed it off. Yes I could’ve just gotten a job but I wouldn’t have a ride without her and I didn’t want to burden her with that. Even though my mom brushed it off my dad always brought it up and made me feel like shit about it. My dad never tried to understand what I was going through and was often hypocritical about a lot of things. When i’d sleep for too long because I was depressed he’d yell at me but he could sleep all day if he wanted. In Oct a lot of stuff happened and my parents have ended up separating. My mom doesn’t make enough to cover bills  and groceries. My sister and her family are staying with her us for the time being as well which is a whole nother situation for my anxiety. But due to this my mom applied to for food stamps but because I’m an adult who isn’t working they wanted my psychiatrist (who I haven’t seen since high school because I no longer have insurance) to fill out a form saying i couldn’t work or they wanted me to apply to work force for them to help me get a job. Mind you for the last 3 years I’ve wanted nothing more than to go back to my psychiatrist and get help, especially with how bad my depression is. But I don’t have insurance and because of how shitty our system is I can’t get any so that wasn’t an option. So I was stuck with workforce.

When we went the first time I had forgotten my wallet with my SS and ID which they said I wouldn’t need so we went in to apply or whatever only to find out that I did need it. And in that short not even 5 mins my anxiety spiked so high that it took me 30 mins in the car to calm down. I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me and I was shaking so bad. We went back the next day and I broke down merely filling out the form because someone continued to come over and check on us. It was hard to breathe and I even cried. I hate crying in public I try my best to hold out til I’m at least away from people but I couldn’t. A month prior to all of this I had made plans with my BF to come down for the holidays until after the New year to see him and meet his mom who had come back from Germany and invited me. But when we got the letter that I had to go into the workforce and do stuff I only had like 2 days to do so. We went in the last day and the lady I was sat with (by myself btw) made it very apparent. When I told her the situation she proceeded to be like “todays the last day and you have to come in tomorrow to work with us. What do you want me to do?” in a very condescending tone, talking to me like I’m an idiot. At this point I’m already internally freaking out and I’m trying not to cry again and I start stuttering out an IDK when she cuts me off and calls her supervisor and gets an answer. After that she was oh so sweet to me but before she was very snarky and made me feel like a dumb child. It was back to back questions of “have you worked? How long? Why did you quit?” As if I chose to be unemployed this long without a good reason.

She sent me off and I started walking to my mom and she told me I nearly passed out doing so before I ran outside to just broke down, collapsing on the side walk. I couldn’t enjoy my 3 weeks away from home because all I could think about was coming back and doing that all over again. I could only think about coming back and being talked to like an incompetent child. Being talked to like some lazy idiot who hasn’t worked for the past 2 years out of sheer laziness. I’ve had literal consistent daily breakdowns over this in the past week. I have literally had trouble sleeping because of this. I come home and I try talking to my mom about it because i have to go back before the 9th and she either brushes me off or tells me “Ik you’re uncomfortable” as if me having 3 breakdowns in the same day and nearly passing out was just uncomfortable. Or she’d tell me “idk what you want me to do. I didn’t ask for things to be like this” as if I was saying I was blaming her for this as if I didn’t know what our situation was right now. My mother who always told me I could always go to her about anything won’t listen to me or downplays my anxiety when its literally made the last 3 weeks living hell. I just I don’t understand.

Idk what this post became tbh I’m a mess.

[missdeddynicole]

I got a job offer! 😊

One of my best friends has a position available at her work and it literally sounds like a fucking dream! Well, to me it does, at least! She works at an allergy clinic and the position is for scanning and filing paperwork, which to me sounds super fun! I like organizing shit! I would rather being doing something repetitive like this than to work in retail again tbh... but I also applied to the Kroger down the road from me too in case I don't get the position. It's better than nothing, plus stocking isn't too bad! But I go visit the allergy clinic next Tuesday to fill out the job application/have the interview and I have not been this excited for something in literal months! I think my favorite thing about this allergy clinic position is that my best friend will be training me, which I love because I'd feel soooo much more comfortable asking her questions than asking someone I barely knew. Oh, I'm now imagining me, her and her mom (who also works there) going on lunch breaks together, too cute! 😍👌

I'm juust so happy right now because I was so worried I was going to have to defer my student loans for another year while I continued my search for jobs, but it seems things are finally taking a turn for the better! Money has been a huge stressing issue for me all summer because I made a deal with my mom that when we moved into the place we lived in now I would contribute to the bills with her and my sister, but since I've graduated college I've been unemployed and I've felt this smothering presence of guilt because I haven't been able to help yet and it was starting to make me really depressed.... but hopefully very soon, money will not be an issue at all for me!

My uncle has also decided to ask me to house sit for him again next week and he's going to pay me $250 and I am so stoked because I am first going to pay off the remaining 70 bucks I owe on my last SOMC hospital bill from December and breathe a sigh of relief because that has been stressing me out for MONTHS. And I plan to, with the remaining amount, get a new bra, a haircut, and maybe some new outfits for work. I don't own a single thing that is business casual so I feel like now is a good time to start building that wardrobe up! Oh I'm so excited, I want to cry. I don't think anyone can truly understand how relieved I am that this is all happening to me at once. Things are starting to look up! Ahhhhhhh

TL;DR Things are looking up for me and I got an amazing job offer, I finally will have earned enough money to pay off an outstanding hospital bill, I will soon be able to contribute to household bills, and I'm starting to feel better about having to pay off student loans!!! I'm glad I remained positive 💕

[marvelspnbaby]

Happy ending - Sebastian Stan

Paring: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Words: 1719

Rating: all ages

Request:

Hi! Could you write one with seb and reader where they are friends ( reader is not famous) and she’s in love with seb but then he introduces her to his girlfriend. Happy ending please I hope you understand what I’m trying to say. Lol

I had so much fun writing this. The idea was so nice to write and I hope you like it! 

Requests are open!

Y/N met Sebastian years ago at a party from a mutual friend. They immediately had an understanding. They clicked and had a lot in common as they both came for eastern Europe to the states when they were young. They always had things to talk about and never ran out of adventures when they spent time together. Whatever they were doing they always had an amazing time.

The press thought they were together the first time they went out together. They were out for dinner and afterwards they planned to watch a movie. It looked like a date so Y/N understood that the press to the story and ran with it. They started digging into her life and it made her feel horrible. She never wanted her life out in the open but it happened. She wasn’t famous, just a paralegal at a small law firm. And she was scared that she might lose her job. Luckily that didn’t happen and Bucky told about Y/N being his friend in the next interview. After that the press took pictures of them but never really dig into her life anymore. It was in that moment that Y/N realized that Sebastian was going to be something more than just a friend. He was going to be her best friend.

A few months, back Y/N started to realize that she has feelings for her best friend. Part of her knew that his was bound to happen someday but she feels awful about it. The only thing those feelings can do is destroying a friendship. A friendship that means the world to her and she can’t lose Sebastian. She wants him as more than a friend but she won’t act on those feelings because they can make him disappear as a friend. With time those feelings will disappear, or at least she hopes so.

 ‘I really need you to meet someone’ Sebastian tells Y/N while the two are just being lazy and binge-watching some show on Netflix. ‘Who?’ Y/N asks. She isn’t really paying attention to Sebastian since the show is finally getting exciting. ‘My girlfriend’ he casually says. Y/N her head snaps from the TV to Sebastian. ‘Girlfriend?’ she asks. Sebastian is smiling and nodding his head in a rapid way.

Y/N her heart sinks into her stomach when she sees Sebastian his face. She literally feels her heart break when he is so happy. She should have told him, maybe things would be different. Him telling her that he doesn’t feel the same and walking out of her life cannot feel worse than this does.

‘Y/N?’ Sebastian asks confused when she doesn’t say anything on his proposal. ‘Sorry. What?’ she asks quickly. She puts on a brave face with a smile when she looks at him. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with me and Kelly tomorrow’ he says laughing softly. Sometimes Y/N is such an airhead, not paying attention to the people around her and just living in her own head.

‘Sure, seems like fun’ Y/N smiles at her best friend. Sebastian can see that something is wrong because the smile doesn’t reach her eyes like it normally would but he decides against pushing her to tell him. ‘Great’ he beams up at her. ‘I text you tomorrow morning where and the time. Right now, I really need to go’ he says. He presses a light kiss on her hair and almost jumps out of the room with happiness.

The moment the door closes behind him Y/N let the tears ago an she starts crying like a baby. Not realizing that Sebastian is still close to the door and overhears. Normally he would walk back in but he figures that she would have told him what was bothering her when he was there. Maybe she just needs a good cry all by herself and tells him later what was wrong.

   Y/N walks into the small diner and looks around. Sebastian is waving her over as soon as he spots her. Next to is a beautiful blond girl with boobs bigger than Y/N her head and she looks like a doll instead of a real person. Bad, Y/N. Never judge a person by her of his looks she tells herself. Y/N takes a deep breath and walks over to the table.

The three of them are actually having a great time. Kelly is a nice person and seems to genuinely like Sebastian and he seems to adore her. So, that makes Y/N feel a bit better. All she wants is for Sebastian to be happy and if that is with Kelly then it makes her happy. She just needs to be a part of his life and with some time she will get over it and find a nice man of her own.

‘I need to go to the toilet really quick’ Sebastian says. He kisses Kelly on her for head, like he used to do with Y/N and walks away leaving the two women alone. Y/N smiles at Kelly but her face changes the moment Sebastian steps away. She doesn’t look like the adoring woman she did a few seconds ago. Kelly is silent and looks at Y/N. Her look is threatening the woman in front of her and Y/N shifts on her chair uncomfortably.

‘I want you to stay away from Sebastian’ Kelly says after a little while. ‘No, he is my best friend. I won’t just give him up like he is doll’ Y/N says. ‘I don’t like repeating myself. Stay away or I will ruin you. That job of yours, I can make it go away. And what does Sebastian need with an unemployed ugly bitch. He is mine now’ Kelly says and for a minute Y/N feels unsafe in a way she never has before. ‘No’ Y/N says. ‘I can tell you love him as more than a friend, and you don’t want him to find out’ Kelly says. It makes a shiver run over Y/N’s back.

Y/N stands up walks out of the diner. She can’t lose Sebastian but Kelly telling him how she feels about him will make her lose him anyways and besides that, she doesn’t want to spent a minute with Kelly ever again. She doesn’t see Sebastian standing there who overheard every word Kelly just told his best friend. His hands are clenched in fist when he sees Y/N walks out of the dinner, clearly upset. There must have been some truth in the last words of Kelly or Y/N wouldn’t run away the way she is doing right now.

   Y/N is sitting on her couch with her knees against her chin when the doorbell rings. With a sign, she stands up from her couch to open the door. She already knows that is Sebastian to yell at her for leaving the diner or to tell her that he doesn’t feel the same and that it would be better if they never saw each other again. Either way the best years of her life are over.

When she opens the door, Sebastian wraps her up in his arms. They stumble into the apartment while hugging. When he let’s her go he sees it. He finally sees it after all this time. The way Y/N looks at him is the way he needs to look while acting with an actress who plays his lover. Only in her case it is real. Y/N loves him in a non-friendly way and he never saw it. Being with her would a dream come true but after the trouble she had with the press he never acted on his feelings. He didn’t want her to deal with it again. But he wants her to be his, just as much as she wants him to be hers.

‘Can we talk?’ he asks when he let’s go of her. Y/N nods her head and closes the door behind him. ‘Do you want something to drink?’ she asks. Sebastian shakes his head and sits down on the couch and pets the spot next to him. Y/N sits down and looks at her hands.

‘I broke up with Kelly’ Sebastian just says. Y/N looks at him. ‘I heard the way she spoke to you. No one speaks to you like that. You are to important to me, Y/N’ he mumbles looking at his hands. Y/N just nods and doesn’t say a word. He heard, that means he also heard the last part and now is the bit coming where he stamps all over her already broken heart.

‘Is it true? About your feelings for me’ Sebastian asks after a long silence. Y/N looks up and meets his hopeful gaze. She swallows and nods her head. ‘Can you please use your word? I need to hear you say it’ he begs her. ‘I like you. I am so sorry Sebastian. I never wanted to jeapordize our friendship. I am sure that they will go away with time. Just don’t leave’ she begs him.

‘No, god no! Y/N’ Sebastian. ‘I feel the same. I am sorry it took a bitch like Kelly to figure it out’ he explains. With those words Y/N starts smiling and sits a bit closer to the man in fron of her. A blush creeps up on her chees when Sebastian grabs her hand with his. His other hands holds her cheek so she looks him in the eyes. His head comes closer and he presses his lips to hers. The kiss is sweet and gentle and it makes the butterflies go wild in Y/N. She never thought this could happen and she feels like on cloud nine.

When Sebastian moves away from her he looks into her eyes. ‘Wow’ he mumbles and a giggle escapes Y/N’s mouth. ‘Do you want to go on a date with me?’ Sebastian asks. Y/N smiles and nods her head. ‘Dinner and a movie?’ she asks giggling. Sebastian starts laughing and when he stops he nods his head. ‘Binge-watching our show now?’ Sebastian proposes. Y/N nods her head and turns on the TV. Sebastian steals the remote and pulls Y/N against him. She snuggles closer while his arm is draped around her. Both are wearing a huge smile on their face. A happy ending after all.

[stomped-camels]

Day 1

I downloaded this application, QuitGuide, to quit smoking. The app had a journal entry section, but this app hasn’t gotten any actual tune-ups in what seems like years (it almost looks like something that belongs on my old iPhone 3GS), but it’ll send me reminders throughout the day. That seems helpful enough to warrant keeping it. I originally quit back in March for a solid… week and a half, or so. It was actually kind of easy, and made me think I won’t have trouble staying away from cigarettes. And then I visited my mom, and it all went to hell. So. It’s the dead of night, and I stomped on the pack of Camel Blues I bought today. I can’t recall how much they were, but I’m pretty sure they were $7.00, around. I bought a $9 lotto ticket that got me zilch, so all in all, I paid around $16 for the whole bunch. My dad loaned me $80 today, since I lost my debit card. I spent it almost entirely on the cigarettes and lotto ticket, lunch, and procuring a Blu Ray copy of The Phantom of the Opera and Se7en from Barnes and Noble. I have a spending problem. On an unrelated note, the best place to get classic horror films for Halloween is WalMart. Unfortunately, N converted me to Blu Rays, and now that’s all I can watch. I have a huge plastic tub of DVDs that will now go unwatched. I should maybe donate those… Not the TV shows, though. Most TV show companies don’t convert their content to Blu Ray, except more recent stuff, and The X Files. I started smoking back in 2015, summer of 2015. I had just come out of a mental hospital, which a suicide attempt put me in. My mom’s smoked all my life. The only time she stopped was for my sister nine years my junior to be born, and if I remember correctly, she stayed off cigarettes for a few years, but eventually fell off the wagon. Is that the right term, fell off the wagon? I feel like it is. Anyway, point is, I always felt like I’d end up smoking. My best friend at the time picked it up after berating me for saying “I feel like I need a rebellious trait… smoking seems like the ticket.” I in turn berated her for starting up after calling me an idiot, and it was in a car, her sister was driving, she tried to jump out. My previous friendships were not healthy, and at some point will make a wonderfully well-received teen novel about accepting the end of long-term friendships and how they’re literally impossible to stop. Back to my smoking. I bought a pack of Marlboro Blacks that June, and I “smoked” them. By “smoked,” I mean I inhaled the smoke in my mouth and puffed out like that was how one smokes. Every once in a while, the smoke actually went down my throat and I’d cough like mad. Never wanted to throw up, though, which I always expected since I have severe acid reflux—which, if I may contribute to any studies of how cigarette smoking affects people with the dreaded GERD, only ended up in awful mornings of intolerable heartburn from the previous day of heavy smoking. I switched to Marlboro Silvers. Or Golds, I can’t remember, once I really started smoking. When I got a boyfriend later that year, I switched to Camel Crushes, but I wouldn’t crush the menthol. In May of 2016, an elderly WalMart employee couldn’t find any Camel Crushes behind the counter and I, feeling guilty for waving my bad habit about in front of this old woman, settled for the in-stock Camel Blues. And I smoked them ever since. Around a pack a day, every day, every week. I am a nicotine addict. It doesn’t feel like a release to say that, but it also doesn’t feel like the greatest shame in my life. I’ve had more shameful moments than saying that, some of which have arisen from being an addict, sure, but. Saying it doesn’t make me want to contact Dr. Phil and try and get on his show to discuss my “deplorable habit.” On the app, I was asked the reason why I wanted to quit. I initially typed “to be able to exercise without feeling breathless and to be able to advance with my singing,” but I backspaced almost immediately because that’s not the real reason. I met N around the beginning of October of 2016. I had confided in him that I was a smoker, and I asked if he had any problems with that. He told me, and I’m paraphrasing only the tiniest bit, that guys who smoked “turned him on.” I can’t remember if he said guys who smoked “are hot” or “turn him on,” but it doesn’t really matter. After a few months of being subjected to me calling for a smoke break at home, or in the car, he finally told me that the habit had becoming irritating and rather disgusting. I reeked of smoke and my breath was abbhorent. So I made the decision to quit (which resulted in the previously mentioned week-and-a-half of being smoke-free). Once I started smoking again, I shamefully (see what I meant?) realized I had basically lied to him, and that I was back on this bullshit and I have been lying to him ever since. I feel guilty all the time I’m with him, and I feel I’ve caused a strain. He’s in Seattle, currently, visiting a friend. I decided I’d quit and start cleaning up my life in other areas, too. I’ve been unemployed for about seven months, so I wanna get serious about it. Not that I haven’t applied elsewhere (it’s a long story and to be frank it just pisses me off), I just need to think smaller. N is my reason for quitting smoking. My main reason, at least. I get the whole “detriment to my health” deal and the “waste of money” point, but my main reason is doing right by him. I don’t want to worry about how my breath or clothes smell. I don’t want to mute myself when we’re on the phone for constant hours and I feel the urge to go outside and spark one up. I want to be honest. And to be honest, I have to hide from him that I have indeed been smoking, and once I quit, I’ll basically be telling the truth. Yikes, I feel like some troublesome character on a sitcom. But. You get the picture. By the way, who is You? Who’s gonna be reading this? Probably no one. I’ve started up journals before and I never gain any traction. Logically, You is Me. Me. I’m talking to you, me. This journal is for myself. I want to post about how my life may be getting better (or worse) once I’ve stopped smoking. It also works as a good craving suppressant. Write about how sad you feel about hiding something from your significant other and you’ll be less likely to do it. Who said that? Me, but it makes sense in the logical aspect of things. So, it’s what, 2:06 in the morning? Should probably wrap this up, I decided to also fix my sleep schedule by downloading this alarm clock app that won’t stop screaming at me until I solve five puzzles that require cognizant brain-power. Alright, C. Wake up tomorrow, at a DECENT TIME, and do something productive. Maybe go apply to some places, take a walk around the neighborhood. You can do it. I believe in you.

October 15, 2017, 2:09 a.m.