#i relapsed after 6 months of being clean and now a day later the need to cut again is more intense than it was before

[plutonian-juvonian-effect]

me when the addiction is actually addictive:

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | part 4

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: chronic illness, hurt/comfort, drug use**! spencer and reader smoke weed together; talks of relapse and recovery. Also, a case involving child abductions, getting engaged, love confessions

word count: 2.4k

a/n: not sure how long this is going to keep getting but I am enjoying adding to it

P1 P2 P3

Days like today suck.

She can’t get out of bed, she’s so hungry her stomach is swirling and screaming and there’s a pain in her intestines that feels like someone is eating her from the inside out but she can’t move… and she has to pee but her legs hurt and her head is pounding from the light. It’s 6 am according to the alarm clock, Spencer hasn’t left for work yet and she’s already missing him.

She manages to make it to the bathroom, sitting there for too long after because she can’t find the courage to stand back up.

“Why?” She whispers to herself before the tears start.

Covering her face as she cries, she’s still sitting on the toilet with her underwear around her ankles, sobbing as Spencer walks in.

He helps her up without asking, he’s seen too many bad mornings now to ask if she needs help, he just knows she wants to go back to bed, so he fixes her underwear and picks her up.

When he finally lays her down with all her pillows, he lowers the temperature in the room to relax her bones and gets her a ginger ale to help with the nausea from the pain she’s in. It is a regular occurrence for her to wake up and feel like she’s dying, but Spencer was wonderful when dealing with it.

He’s in the kitchen for a while, she’s worried he’s making something for her to eat that she’ll have to lovingly turn away because she can’t do it right now. Her throat is too tight and it hurts to swallow or talk.

She can hear him talking… he’s on the phone with someone.

When he comes back in, he cuddles into her the way he knows she likes. Soothing his hands over her back in a way that helps the pain while also helping her feel like she’s not alone in all of this. He’ll never understand; but he loves her, so a part of him feels it too.

“You called out?” She whispers against his chest.

He nods, his cheek resting on the top of her head as she feels the friction. “I don’t feel good when you don’t feel good.”

“I’m sorry you had to help.”

He’s told her time and time again that he doesn’t mind.

He would kill for her, he’d clean up the mess if she killed someone. He’d even dig the fucking grave if she needed him too… he wasn’t opposed to being there for her no matter what that entailed.

She just hated the fact he had to, he knew her apology came from her hatred of herself and not the fact she felt sorry for him. She loved the help, it made her feel loved until she felt disappointed in herself for needing it.

“Do you want your medicine?”

She smiles finally, “if you mean my secret joint stash— yes, but if you can’t handle being around me like that, then I don’t need it today.”

“I think I’d like to try it,” Spencer whispers. “If you can smoke weed and not relapse then I think I can too?”

“Probably, but if you can’t, I’ll support you however you need me to?” She smiles up at him, he kisses the tip of her nose as she kisses his chin.

Getting high with Spencer is… interesting to say the least. He doesn’t want a full hit, he just wants a taste and so she takes a drag and blows the smoke from her lungs to his. Sharing a part of themselves in a way they never expected before, this is his most vulnerable moment and he was trusting her with it.

The sunshine hits his face in such a perfect way that as they lay side by side, she can watch his pupil devour his iris as he gets high. Their breathing is steady and their fingers are interlocked. They’re content just blinking together, in the sunshine, quiet. In love.

Her body is so calm, and her mind is slow as she takes it all in and he looks so relaxed. He’s not jittery or caffeine-deprived like most mornings; he’s not anxious or stressed or trying to find a way to pretend he’s fine before leaving for work again, only to come home sad.

He’s okay.

She’s okay.

“It's nice,” he whispers, “but it’s not as good as you.”

She smiles, trying not to laugh at how his thoughts are going to be all jumbled for the next few hours. He’s going to be smart yet stupid at the same time and she couldn’t fucking wait to hear all the things he thinks of.

“I know what you mean,” she agrees.

“This is like a tidal wave..." his ramble starts and she is so excited to see where it takes them. "A tsunami that rushes and relieves just as quickly." His eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy.

"You’re like a volcano; there are so many stages before mass destruction, and even then there’s still the ash cloud and the debris and the lava dries like rocks… the destruction is total and the cleanup will be brutal.”

“I’m addicted to you," his eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy. "Drugs are boring and you’re not,” Simplifying his meaning as his eyes open again.

“I love you,” he says with the same certainty as the first time.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she didn’t think they’d go down this path when she was blowing into his mouth, she expected him to panic or get horny.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how much.”

He shakes his head lightly, “I wouldn’t be opposed to knowing.”

If she thinks it over, she’ll abandon ship before she can tell him, so she just jumps into it.

“I was a little scared to ask you to help me lock my door that first day because I thought you’d think I was just some junky who couldn’t get their shit together. But the second you asked if I had a local group and you helped me; that was the moment I knew I wanted you in my life for forever.”

He smiles, silent so she can keep going. He’ll take his turn when she’s really done.

“And then when we got to talking it was like I knew you already. Like I had your memories in my mind and as you told me things I was like well duh! Yeah, that’s my Spencer! I don’t know how it happened so fast. One minute you’re a stranger and the next you’re the only person I ever want to see for the rest of my entire fucking life,” it’s more passionate than she expected as she rambles on.

“I can’t get married on paper without losing my disability, but I don’t give a fuck about a piece of paper or someone officially giving us that title one day, I’m content just staying in this bed with you for the rest of time and never moving again.”

He looks like he’s about to explode with love as he presses his lips together in the softest smile. He can’t keep quiet any longer, “are you asking me to spend the rest of my life with you but not marry you?”

She laughs at the realization, “I think so?”

They’re trying to kiss but it ends up more like laughing with their mouths touching and teeth occasionally clashing. It’s hysterical because of the marijuana, sure, but they’re high on each other. It’s everything they’ve ever wanted.

To find something better than drugs; that little purpose in life comes back, that drive to see tomorrow because there are good memories to be made with their favourite person. She’s not afraid of the darkness or the unknowing anymore, Spencer’s her guiding light.

He's holding her close to his chest after a while, "are you feeling better?"

"Of course," she smiles, "I've got my weed and my reid."

His laugh is everything as it fills their space again. This was how the rest of her life was going to feel, and it made her excited for tomorrow.

—

She’s feeling a lot better later and they need Spencer to help Penelope back at work, but he doesn’t want to leave her. She’s in sweats with a blanket on her lap in the corner of Penelope’s office, a book in her hand and a coffee on the table beside her as she listens to them bicker back and forth.

“If you hack the NSA we can no longer use all this as evidence if he’s brought in alive, Penelope!” Spencer whisper shouts at her, afraid to raise his voice at her but wanting to get his point across.

“Hotch needs the aerial shots like yesterday, and the NSA won't get them to us in time for this kid!” She yells back.

“Call google…” Y/N suggests, flipping through her book.

“What?” Spencer looks at her like she just said the dumbest thing ever.

“They’re taking photos constantly for their maps program, my mom was saying our new roof is now on the updated map. They might have all the photos saved up, if the FBI asks nicely they might work with you…” she explains, pressing her lips together in a tight smile.

“You’re a genius!” Penelope shouts, dialling the phone and getting JJ to work his media magic for contact at google.

Spencer's smile is one she hasn’t seen before, he’s not only proud of her; he looks a little turned on. She just cracked the case by knowing all the little hacks about the internet as part of her day job. She lived online, and now she was saving lives because of it.

It was a good case to help on, she got to see 3 kids go home to their parents and know a terrible man was going to rot in prison for the rest of his sad and pathetic life. The hard part was seeing them go through months of footage of this guy's yard, seeing the child-sized holes he dug up. The disrupted earth and the knowledge of what happened when there wasn’t picture proof.

—

They go to a meeting after work.

They sit side by side, her leg is crossed and resting over his knee as their arms are linked and fingers interlocked. They really couldn’t be any closer if they tried. They just wanted to listen today, to know they were in a room of people who were trying, people who understood and battled every bad feeling they did.

“Y/N,” the group leader calls her out just before the end of the meeting, “it’s nice to see you back here with Spencer, we heard you found another group but it’s nice to see you here for the support.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but as you can see he is distracting.” She gestured to how they were sitting with a small giggle. “I like coming here if you guys don’t mind me occasionally dropping by?”

“By all means,” another member, carol, spoke up. “Spencer is a great sponsor, it’s nice to see him happy.”

She didn’t know he was a sponsor but he thanks her for the compliment, it turns out almost everyone in his group turned to Spencer for support. It was comforting to everyone there to know the real, chemical and biological reasoning behind their addictions. Spencer provided a sense of calm for all of them, like a younger brother; they all loved him dearly.

They’re still holding hands as they walk home, the sun is still setting and it's barely even 7 pm. All the lights on the street are on, shops are closing and the sidewalks are bare. One store is still open however, across the street, she can see the big storefront window, illuminated with the brightest lights to show off a new collection of rings.

“Do you want one?” He notices her eyes darting to the light like a moth to a flame.

“What?” She zones back in when he stops walking.

“A ring, do you want to get one?” He clarifies with the softest voice.

She nods softly, “you should get one too though, seeing as I asked you and everything.”

He grips her hand tighter and they dart across the street. Giggling like children running to the playground, they’re almost out of breath from laughing as they open the shop door with a ding. Smiles on their faces, joy in their hearts, it makes the shop owner swoon as she sees them.

“Did you just get engaged?” She pries with a knowing smile.

They nod, “we just need some rings,” Y/N adds.

She waves them over, “well I’m going to need our sizes first, here try these on.” She hands them what looks like a thin ruler with holes spaces out.

Y/N attempts to find the right one, fitting the best into the 9 and a half. Spencer fits into the 11 on the first try like he knew already and the woman just laughs at the way Y/N glares at him with love.

“What kind of rings are we thinking? Do you have a preferred cut, style, size, or colour?”

It’s a lot all at once and she’s never really thought about it, “I love my grandma's ring, do you have any vintage styles?”

“I have vintage-style rings as well as some restored rings from the '20s and '30s,” she brings out a jewellery box from under the counter. “These are all appraised and unique.”

When she takes the lid off, Y/N’s eyes widen at the view. There are at least 50 rings in their velvet beds as they wait patiently to be tried on; all different shapes sizes and colours like she said. It feels a little overwhelming at first but then her eyes land on a green one. She takes it out slowly and slides it over her ring finger.

It’s perfect.

Spencer picks out a nice gold band to match, he pays and the lady is so happy to watch them leave hand in hand with their new rings. Dedicated to each other forever and ever, he was her person for the rest of time because he said so and that’s as good as a piece of paper.

She’s a completely different person from who she was when she woke up; twirling down the street with the love of her life, high on loving him as he makes her laugh and holds her hand. He stops in the middle of the street and places his hands on her cheeks, drawing her in closer.

“Loving you is so much fun.”

“Ain’t it fun?” She agrees with a smile before pressing their lips together.

taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[imnotwolverine]

The Accidental Family - Chapter 7

Henry Cavill x OFC - multi-chapter

< Chap 6 | Chap 7 The Accidental Family 

Disclaimer: fluff and mild bit of angst

Word count: 1.790

Author’s note: Okay, this was so much fun! And, I know it’s a little early, but let me hereby send you my well wishes for the new year. May the new year be accident-free, healthy, happy..and hopefully involving some much missed hugs with friends and family!  ❤️

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

How much can change in three months? Apparently everything. Just three months ago Henry had been the lead actor in a successful tv hit-series, father to a brood of children at home whom he barely ever saw in between shoots. Then, one unfortunate accident on his motorcycle later, he forgot about the life he had led the past 5 years, the scars beneath his hairline reminding him that it wasn’t a dream; this was real. One day he was a single man, the next he was a husband and dad.

And now here he lay, in bed, four kids sprawled atop him, a slight sheen of sweat covering his hairy chest as he woke from a restless dream, his limbs all tangled with his children who were still fast asleep. 

It was the end of summer and they sure felt like tiny little furnaces, their hands and feet poking awkwardly in his ribs and thighs. 

Not that he’d ever complain. 

They had been the most happy little outcome of one not so happy accident; where he had dreamed and wished and hoped for a family five years ago, here it was. All feet, clingy, sweaty hands, and drooling, snotty noses that prevented him from moving, even if he wanted to.

Trying his best to reach out his right arm, he blindly searched for the soft skin of the other adult in this bed; another happy outcome of the accident. A wife, her fingers entangling with his as she slowly sat up a little, Piper, one of the twins clinging to her neck like a little koala bear.

‘Hey,’ She murmured, squeezing his hand.

Henry grumbled something indiscernible, Phoebe’s chuckle warm in Henry’s heart as she slowly shook her head, falling back into her pillow. All the while, Piper could not give a damn about her mother waking up; she remained completely knocked out, arms hooked around her mom’s neck as she dreamed about becoming an elephant trainer..or perhaps an equestrian - the strong headed little girl hadn’t quite decided yet. 

‘We need a bigger bed.’ Henry yawned, trying his best to stretch out his legs, only to be welcomed with groaning children and even meaner hands fisting into his chest hair. ‘Ooooph. Okay. Max. Maxxy-max. Wakey-wakey.’ Henry tried.

‘No.’ The youngster said, smiling with shut eyes as he kept his hand firmly fisted into his father’s chest hair.

‘Yes.’

‘No.’

‘Well, what I say goes. And it’s a yes from me.’

Max finally opened his blue eyes, his lips jutting out in disagreement. ‘But you told us we could be in bed ALLLLL day.’

‘I said all morning. Since you all slept the whole night through, the lot of you. But now it’s time for some food. And Kal needs a walk - as do you.’

‘But he’s a big dog,’ Max whined, splaying out his limbs, hitting little Cole smack-bang in the face.

‘WAAAAAAAAA.’ The young one cried, but Max didn’t care, continuing undisturbed:

‘..and big dogs can take care of themselves.’

‘Ah, so you did listen yesterday. Haha. Now..Is this you telling me you’re going to make us breakfast? Are you a big boy?’

‘No!’

Henry snickered as the young boy shot an annoyed look at Cole who was crying his eyes out. Cole seemed to have an endless supply of tears - and every single little thing could get the toddler to show just how good he had gotten at crying. 

‘Pfft dadddyyyy.’ Max sighed.

‘Yes?’ Henry smirked as the boy let go off his chest hair. 

‘Only if its pancakes.’

The other children also blinked open their eyes; ‘PANCAKES?!!!’ 

--

Yawning with mild exhaustion, Phoebe shuffled into the kitchen, being welcomed by the smell of pancakes, freshly ground coffee and something sticky that was now dragging behind her slipper.

‘Shit,’ She mumbled, looking down at the sticky wrapper that had stuck to her slipper, smearing something honey-gold over the kitchen floor. ‘dammit.’

Looking up, she wanted to ask Henry for a wet cloth to clean up, only to notice that he had totally zoned out, slightly melancholic eyes staring out at the kitchen island as he leaned into the kitchen counter.

‘Babe?’

Henry looked up, blinking away his thoughts.

‘You okay?’ Phoebe kicked off her soiled slipper, walking with one bare, one slippered foot towards him, the children all somehow keeping it relatively quiet at the kitchen table as they snacked on their favourite breakfast.

‘Yea..’ Henry’s melancholic eyes wrinkled as he forced a gentle smile, hiding what was going on being those crystal blues.

For a moment Phoebe felt her heart sink at the sight of this. She knew there could be relapses. That it was still very likely that Henry would become overwhelmed, forget again or decide this life was not for him.

With a hesitant hand she touched his arm, his eyes looking down at where her fingers traced his skin, burning him with the gentlest of touches.  

‘I could have died that day.’ He said softly, looking at the long trail of honeyed residue that had smeared out over the kitchen floor. He sighed. ‘I could have never woken up. Left you alone in this mess.’

‘Hey..where’s all this coming from?’ Phoebe quickly looked at the kids sweetly munching on their pancakes, their faces messy with powdered sugar, before hinting they’d best have this conversation in the hallway.

‘No, no. It’s…’ Henry sighed and opened his arms for her to melt into, her body eagerly doing just that; she could never get enough of his hugs, especially now she had to savour every moment she got with him - the gnawing fear of him leaving her was present everyday, especially now the kids were back home. It wasn’t easy to fall into a life of taking care of four very demanding kids. Let alone suddenly having a wife.

Even if he might have always wished for it, it could still be too much. Would he tell her if it was too much? 

‘Feebs..don’t worry. I just, I mean. I was thinking, this morning, in bed, with the kids in our bed, I...’ He sighed and let his hand trail over her cheek, brushing a rough thumb over her smooth skin, some blond hair catching between his fingers. He looked at the gold in his hand, twirling it a little through his fingers as he felt his wife’s arms tangle around his back, pulling herself even closer to his chest.

Perhaps it was better that he lost the Witcher gig. Had to look for a different career. Perhaps he could be..home more. Could..

His eye caught the movement of one determined four year old climbing off his year, mug of juice precariously held in chubby little fingers. Anddd…

‘Sam!’ Henry called out for him, but it was too late, blue eyes looking up from his little task of walking over to his mom and dad, to miss the slipper that his mom had discarded in the sticky residue, his little mouth making a comical little “o” as he tipped forward, plastic mug falling from his fingers and…

Henry snorted out laughing as the juice flew all the way up to Phoebe’s legs, her lips letting out a little squeak as she quickly looked around.

In moments the calm kitchen was chaos again, the other kids wanting to leave the table, Sam crying out loud for thinking he had done a bad thing, Phoebe trying to clean up the mess and Henry squatting down to console the crying wee one.

‘Hey hey hey - it was only an accident. I’m here...daddy’s here.’ He wrapped his large paws around Sam’s little shoulders, pulling him in for a hug that was eagerly accepted.

Sam snottily nodded into Henry’s shirt; it was like laundry day never ended with four kids ruining every piece of clothing one could own. But, in that moment Henry didn’t care, his arm lifting up Sam before he looked back at Phoebe, who was now rinsing out the juice-soaked cloth, her midnight blues looking back at him with curiosity.

‘And in case you wondered; I’m not going anywhere mama-bear.’ He stepped in and waited for Phoebe to dry her hands before he could lean in for a kiss. 

Phoebe hung the drying towel back on it’s hook, mischievous eyes looking back at him.

‘You better not. Memory or not..you did kind of knock me up with four kids.’

‘Mommy..what’s knocking up?’ Sam blinked up at Phoebe, who now used both hands to grab Henry’s jaw and pull him in for a kiss. Henry half chuckled into the kiss, his face leaning back again so he could look down at Sam, Sam’s mouth and nose a mess after something that must have been close to inhaling the marmalade he had smeared onto his pancake.

‘Matter of fact..I think I can’t remember, either.’ Henry’s face kept a playfully unabashed facade and Phoebe couldn’t help but gasp. 

‘OH! No you…’

‘Maybe mommy could refresh my memory when we have some alone time again? Hmm?’ Henry cheeks turned up in a most mischievous smile.

‘And accidentally get me knocked up..again? Hmm? You want that?’ Phoebe laughed as Henry shrugged indifferently, not minding the idea one bit - what else was he to do with all this free time? Leaning forward she kissed him again, Sam squealing now he felt it was just a bit TOO much mommy-and-daddy-PDA for the moment.

‘Who said THAT was an accident?’ He grinned, before swiftly adding: ‘Later?’ Henry winked, carefully putting Sam back down on the clean floor. Clean for now.

Phoebe laughed and pulled him back in for another delightful mommy-daddy snog, shirts covered in kiddy drool, marmalade and what not.

‘Mmm..Sounds like a plan. I’ll make sure to ..refresh your mind.’

--

Henry tugged down his shirt to be somewhat presentable after having spent most of his Sunday stretched out on the couch, reading. He wasn’t sure who’d be at the door, but he had a hunch it were the neighbours who wanted to apologise for the slightly too loud birthday party they had yesterday. 

Honestly, he hadn’t minded it one bit; he enjoyed a little bit of life in his ever quiet house. 

Turning the lock, he swung open the door, expecting the apologetic face of Rita or James..but it wasn’t either of them. Instead he was greeted by a very different apologetic face, golden locks making his heart do a confused little flip in his chest. 

Biting her lip, the blondine - Bee, was it? - shyly shuffled on her feet. 

‘Hi.’ 

Henry quickly straightened up, scolding himself for looking so terribly disheveled in his sweatpants and wrinkly white t-shirt. 

‘H-hi..Bee.’ 

‘Remember me?’ She smiled - she didn’t wear any make-up and he liked it.  

‘Of course. Ha..Eh..’ Henry felt a slight blush creep up his cheeks. ‘Want to come in?’ 

Bee smiled. ‘I hope I don’t interrupt any..-.’

‘Oh no. Please..’ He stepped away to let her inside and blabbed on: ‘I was rather bored actually. Home alone..the usual. It’s nice to see you, I thought -’

Bee halted before him, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to quiet, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of pink. And Bee? She laughed. Of all the scenarios that had played out in her head, this one was the sweetest, funniest, bestest thing that could have happened. For a moment she didn’t scold herself for getting much too drunk three months ago. For a moment she thought that perhaps this one tiny accident in one bathroom stall at an after party, was the start of something good. 

‘Tea? Wine? Eh...’ 

‘Oh! No wine...no..wine.’ Bee quickly followed Henry out into what she learned to be the kitchen. And what followed next was the most life changing cup of tea she ever had. 

--

The End

(For now. I maybe kind of enjoyed writing about these two and their kids a bit TOO much 👀😸Would you like to read more, dear readers?)

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama

@tryingtoliveonmywishes @ceilingfann @do-youseeme

[pixie88]

Vicky

Chapter 19 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: This chapter has 2 star guest appearances from 2 beauty's @secretaryunpaid and @ridgy--didge 😘😘 Again I’m going to try and start editing and publishing 2 chapters a week as I have 5 drafts in ATB and 3 drafts in Addicted to You (Series 2 of ATB) obviously if you wish to stop reading after series 1 I completely understand just let me know if you like to be untagged. Now offence taken. I hope you like it.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff, Little Angst, Mention of drug abuse & Violence.

Song: Raye - Love of you life.

Word Count: 2303

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

As soon as she read the words she knew who had done this "The flat is all clear" Harry says as Laila just stares at the words on the wall "It was Vicky" she says without looking away. "Are you sure?" he questions her, Laila nods "She's done something like this before when I've given Zeppy advice to stay away from her while she's using in the past. So, she completely smashed up my car"

18 Years ago.

"Nate, you know everyone says she's a druggy right?" this wasn't the reaction he wanted when he told his family about Vic "Laila, she is done with all that!" he hisses at her "Whatever...it's your life!" she gets up off the sofa and heads back to her bedroom. Nate was only 16 and Vic was 2 years older, Terry and Liz didn't care about the age gap as they were the same age when they got together, but it was more the rumours they had heard about her half the time she's high and the other half she's trying to get money to score.

As much as they didn't like her, Terry and Liz knew if they expressed their concerns, this will just push him away and towards her. All they could do is be there for him, they didn't have to worry. 4 months into the relationship the day before Laila's 14 birthday, Vicky just disappeared for two years when she finally turned up she told him about Zeppy. Hoping that he would stump up maintenance for her, but a trainee mechanic didn't make that much. Nate had learned not to give her money for anything, so if Zeppy needed something he would go out and buy it for her himself.

When she reached 12 years old, Vicky relapsed again, Nate had lost count of how many times she had gone back to the gear. Vicky had ended up in hospital again, Nate was working so he had asked Laila to take her to see Vic. When they arrived Vicky was asleep, although she was only 4 years older than Laila, looked twice her age. Zeppy was in tears "Hey, she'll be OK! She always is!" Laila tried to comfort her.

Hearing Zeppy's voice she stirred but kept her eyes shut "Aunt Laila, sometimes I wish she wasn't! I wish she wasn't OK.....I can't keep going through this!" Zeppy sobbed "I get that...I do! Sometimes, you can only take so much before you start to wonder if you would be better off without them or keep putting yourself through it"

This angered Vicky.

3 Days later.

She discharged herself from hospital and caught the tube to Laila's work. She saw her car parked up, she took off her heeled boots and smashed every window, pulling out her house key she scraped it across the shiny black paint work before smashing in her headlights. With the alarm going off Laila and Daniel rushed outside, but the damaged had been done.

Vicky got 6 months in prison for criminal damage.

Nate felt so much guilt that he decided he would worked on her car until it looked like new but Terry and Grandad Carelli couldn't let him do it alone, so they got involved too.

That was Vicky's first attack on Laila...

Present day.

Harry didn't want her staying at the flat just in case, Vicky came back no matter how much Laila protested "Harry, I'll be fine here! I can handle Vicky" he's packing a bag for her "I don't care...Laila, you aren't staying here" although she wasn't scared of Vic, she found Harry's protective side quite a turn on.

The next day.

Harry is in the shower, while Laila is cooking them breakfast "Alexa play Harry's playlist" she calls out. Raye - Love of Your Life starts playing, Laila starts swaying her hips and sings along.

"Oh, I could make you confused

I could give you something to lose

I'ma wake you up in the morning

In the bathroom singing the blues

No, I won't clean up your plates (Your plates)

Got my hair all in your face (Your face)

And my legs wrapped 'round your waist (Your waist)

No, I could never give you any space but I

I could be the love, be the love

Be the love, be the love of your life

I could be the love, be the love

Be the love, be the love of your life

I could be the light, be the light

Be the light when it's dark in the night

Oh God, I could be the love, be the love

Be the love, be the love of your life"

Harry stops in the doorway admiring the view, she hadn't noticed him and continues singing. He watches her hip roll and booty pop. He's almost convinced she knows he's there, so she's moving like this to get a reaction out of him. Which by how tight his boxers have gone she had gotten one.

"Put your, put your ego down when you need to

Yes, I get stressed out if I can't read you

Bad London girl raised in the south

I run my mouth, I say shit that I really didn't meant to say

Got my hair all in your face (Your face)

And my legs wrapped 'round your waist (Your waist)

No, I could ne......."

She cuts herself off when he startles her by wrapping his arms around her from behind "Why does that song seem like it was made for you?" He asks before placing a soft kiss against her neck "Maybe because my legs are normally wrapped around ya waist?" she laughs, "That or the love of you life bit" he nips her ear.

He kisses her neck again "Harry, I'm trying to cook breakfast," he leans forward moving the pan off the heated ring "I'm hungry for....!"  he spins her round to face him before lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. His lips crash to hers, his hands slip under his t-shirt she's wearing, grasping the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down until their a puddle on the floor.

The pads of his fingers parts her folds, the kiss became more intense, she moans against his lips. She's ready for him, she pushes down his boxers springing him free, she lines him up against her apex. With one swift movement, he thrusts into her, he groans as he grips her arse pulling her forward. She grips his shoulders, his thumb brushes over her nipple making her moan.

A few hours later.

"....I found her washing the kittens in the toilet" Mrs. Hoges tells Laila stories of her 6 year old granddaughter in her southern American accent while she's cutting her hair "No!! How old were they?"

"5 maybe 6 weeks...I shouldn't laugh but it was quite funny"

As she finishes up, she hears her phone buzz.

She loves her friends, but they worry too much, Laila believes if Vicky wanted to hurt her she would.

15 Minutes later...

Laila calls in her next client Miss. Ferguson in "Hey! How are you?" she greets her "G'day, I'm great thanks, you?" She says in her rich Australian accent, Laila nods "So what are we doing today?" Laila throws the gown over her "I'm thinking chocolate brown highlights" Laila nods tearing the foil strips.

At the corner of her eye, she notices someone lean against the wall to her right, she glances over and rolls her eyes as she makes her way over "Harry, what are you doing here?"

"Don't worry Daniel said it was fine.... considering" he seems worried "As much I love you worrying over me...I will be fine" she can see he has no plans on leaving her anytime soon "But seems you aren't going anywhere make yourself useful and pass me those foils when I ask" they make their way back over to Miss. Ferguson.

Once her foils are done, Laila gets Harry to take her to the sinks and wash her hair "I..don't know how to wash women's hair," he whispers to Laila, who laughs "Dude! Come on, it's not that difficult! You know how to wash your hair just wash it how you would yours but we give them a head massage when you do the conditioner" she winks leaving him to it.

At the end of her shift, "Did you have fun being my trainee?" he looks over to her, she had made him do 5 washes, made endless amount of teas and coffees and sweep up hair "I have no idea how you do this everyday my hands are pruned" she laughs, "Aww, those delicate hands can't handle a little water?" she jokes as she grabs her stuff to leave. She checks her phone and saw Nate had text her.

Although Laila wasn't scared of Vicky, she was relieved that she had been caught "Vicky's in custody" she turns towards Harry, who let's out a sigh of relief "Thank...fuck!" He wraps her up in his arms "Let hope she's not released anytime soon" she smiles up at him. She sends a quick reply back.

"So, that means I lose my hunky trainee?" She winks at him, he chuckles "Would it be inappropriate to take my boss out to dinner?" She smirks "Well, now your shift has finished you're no longer my trainee! I'm guessing it's acceptable!"

They leave the salon and find a restaurant that can seat them. Once they are shown their table, they're looking through the menu she looks up at Harry then she spots him...Fuck!!!! She thought as she moved the menu to cover her face.

"Laila?" She hears Harry say "Yes?" She asked not lowering her menu, "Who are you hiding from?" She can almost hear him smirking "No one! I have no idea what you're talking about!" He shook his head "You know even if I can't see your face I can tell you are lying"

She pulls down the menu a little "After Josh, Nikki set me up on a blind date...oh my god the guy was awful. He was one of those who are someone in school, but after he's a nobody the whole date he was just reminiscing about his days at school. I was so bored, so I made my excuses to use the toilets which was right next to the exit and left" Harry howls "Laila!! You didn't?!" He wipes his tears from laughing.

"I did! It's the guy over there with the woman with the yellow dress" Harry is about to turn to look, "Don't look you'll make it obvious!" She hisses "I need to see what this guy looks like especially if you've ditched him!" He turns and he can't believe his eyes "Callum?" He turns back to her "Yeah, how did you know?" She questions him.

"He was the kid in school that used to bully me about my weight...well until Alec told him to back off" Harry starts to laugh again "What's funny?" She asks, "So, he came to my gym years later wanting a PT, I managed to get him into shape....but it felt so good having someone who used to bully me come to me for help and now? My girlfriend went on a date with him and done a runner!" Harry is in fits of laughter.

"Maybe I should go over and say hi" Laila gives him a look as of to say don't you dare, but its to late, he's up and walking over to their table "Callum! I saw you and thought I'd come over and say hi!" Callum looks up at him "Harry, mate how are you?" The pair shake hands "Good, just here with my girlfriend Laila" he points in Laila's direction she awkwardly smiles back.

"I feel like I know her from somewhere" Callum's date turns in Laila's direction, now all 3 are looking over to her. Fuck! Does he recognize me?! She thought. "I think she just has one of those faces" Harry laughs "So, who's your date?" Callum's date looks up at Harry.

Laila caught her checking Harry out, she holds out her hand, which Harry shakes and quickly drops much to Callum's dates disappointment. She watches him smile at him both before making his way back to their table.

"Please tell me..he doesn't remember me?!" She asks as he sits, Harry chuckles "He thinks he knows you from somewhere, but no idea where" Laila sighs with relief "Thank god! But the nerve of his date! Checking you out right in front of him!" Her tone was curt.

A grin appeared on his face "So, I didn't imagine it then!" She rolls her eyes at him "No, I saw it too!" She doesn't look impressed "They were on a first date too! Why do you sound jealous?" He loves this side to her "I'm not.... I just think its rude checking out someone else when you are on a date" he leans over interlinking his fingers through hers "Gorgeous....come on surely you know I literally have tunnel vision, if it's not you I'm not interested! Plus do you know how good it felt telling him that I was with you?! The chubby kid got the super hot girlfriend and at 34 he's still on his first date" His words make her blush.

They're interrupted by the waiter who takes their order.

They are laughing at a silly joke Harry's mum told him when he heads to their table "I figured out where I know you from!" Callum says in an airy tone "We went on a blind date set up by Nikki! You ran out on it"

Fuck he remembered! She thought.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 20.

@lem-20​ @ridgy--didge​ @irisofpurple​ @secretaryunpaid​ @khoicesbyk​ @txemrn​ @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer​ @tea-me-kah​ @casualpostqueen​ @beautifuluknownvoid​

[stardewshanebae]

It’s so fluffy Im gonna die

Stardew Valley had been blanketed in night. Dark clouds rolled overhead, blocking any view of the starry sky. Rose loved walking in the woods south of her farm. There were few people and she could sit on the edge of the cliff and stare at the horizon. Her stomach churned as she approached the cliff. She knew what lay ahead. She held her breath even though the stench of beer already made its way into her nostrils. Her heart was either racing or stopped entirely as she waited to see if the familiar shape was breathing. Shane coughed and sputtered.

“Man, what’s to stop me from rolling off this cliff right now?”

“Shane, please! We’re having a baby, you were excited for this!”

Shane stood, this tall, looming figure and stumbled toward the edge of the cliff.

Thump. Thump. THUMP!

Rose lurched out of bed, panting and heart racing. 

What the hell? She thought. Who is here this early in the morning?

Rose quickly threw one of Shane’s hoodies on over herself before answering the door.

“Good morning, babe.” Much to her surprise, Shane stood before her clean shaven with a bouquet of roses and a to-go container.

Still half asleep, Rose took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Oh umm do you want to come in?” Rose stepped aside to let Shane in the farmhouse.

“Thanks, I won’t be long, since I have to get to Joja on time, but I wanted to ask you something.” Shane stepped in and set the container and flowers on the table. “First,” Shane kneeled down and kissed Rose’s belly, “Good Morning baby” Rose giggled. Shane stood up. “Rose,” Shane put his hands on her waist and pulled her in closer, “make yourself available tonight at 6:00. I’ll meet you here. “ Before she could reply he leaned in and kissed her. Before pulling away he smirked and whispered, “I’m not asking”.

Rose smiled. “It’s a date then.”

Shane pulled away and turned to leave. He commented, “By the way, you look good in my shirt”.

Rose laughed as Shane closed the door behind him. She couldn’t help but smile to herself. 

It was just a bad dream, Rose. He’s better. He is. 

It was so good to see him on the upside. He was even beaming since they found out they were expecting, though they hadn’t told anyone yet. Since that day he always brought her breakfast and dinner, often staying over, and helped her with the farm. 

She turned to the to-go box on the table— inside was a delicious homemade breakfast scramble of eggs, sausage, peppers, cheese, and tomatoes. Shane was a phenomenal cook when he set his mind to it. Those Rose still struggled with food, she couldn’t bring herself to turn down such a kind act from Shane

After her breakfast she cleaned up and went to tend to her farm. She started by letting all the animals out, grooming, and collecting, then proceeded to work in the fields. By the time she was finished, it was well past lunchtime. Rose decided to head inside and shower to wash the grime off herself. 

As she washed her hair, she wondered what on earth Shane could want. He looked so excited, and confident. She smiled. He has been gaining confidence recently. A part of her always worries though, she knows what that darkness feels like, and how easy it is to relapse. 

Rose stepped out of the shower and dried off. Looking through her wardrobe, she tried to decide what would be best to wear. 

She looked through her drawers until she found a long brown skirt, a white shirt, and a soft blue cardigan. She cinched her belt around her waist. She was starting to notice the baby bump, but it was easy enough to cover up. She pulled up some socks and tied up her boots. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. It’s been a while since she’s gotten all dressed up, but she was happy to be dressed up for once.

 She didn’t love wearing makeup, but the occasion seems to call for it. Rose dug around in some of her boxes until she found it. “Aha! The makeup pouch”

Rose looked at her reflection and applied some light makeup. She dabbed some blush, added some mascara, and finished by applying some light lipstick and smacking her lips together to fade it out. She reassessed herself. Now for this hair. She brushed her hair out, and pulled two of the front pieces back with a blue ribbon. 

A few minutes later, Rose heard a knock on the door. She opened the door to see Shane with yet another bouquet of flowers, dressed in jeans and a grey button down shirt. His hair was combed back and he stood in the doorway. “Wow” he breathed. 

Rose blushed and smirked. “You should wow yourself” 

Shane handed her the flowers. “I know I already got you flowers, but I really wanted to get you more.”

Rose took the flowers and put them in a second vase. “Thank you so much” She kissed Shane on the cheek. He was warm. “So where are we going tonight, Mr. Bossy?” 

Shane held out his hand for Rose. “I suppose you’ll have to trust me”. He walked her out of the farmhouse and down toward Cindersap Forest. 

They strayed from the path to a small clearing in the center of a grove by the lake. There was a blanket with a basket in the center. Bowls with candles were scattered around the clearing. Some string lights were strung from the trees. Some throw pillows were scattered on the blanket. Shane led Rose to the blanket, took a seat and patted the blanket next to him. Rose obliged and joined him on the blanket. Shane opens the basket to reveal an assortment of fresh foods and artisan goods. He moved the basket off of the wooden board and started spreading the food out. Shane layed out various cheeses, crackers, cut bread, oils, pepperoni, pepper jam, grapes, sliced oranges, and deviled eggs. Shane held up an egg to Rose’s mouth. She took a bite. It was so good. The filling was creamy and flavorful. Shane smiled “Charlie lays the best eggs.” Rose smiled back, “She sure does, huh?”

Across the lake, Rose could see the pier where she and Shane shared so many memories together, drinks, making out like reckless teens, swimming, their first time… 

Shane has always had a warm aura. He was the kind of warm that Whiskey made you feel on the inside after a shot. He was warm in the way that the sun warmed the floorboards of the farmhouse in the afternoons. He could also burn you like a hot pepper if you didn’t know how to cut the heat. His cold front never got to her though. 

Rose and Shane snacked on the board as they talked. 

Shane looked across the lake at the pier. “You know, I’d like to say I knew you were different the moment I met you, but that would simply be a lie. I didn’t know you were different until we sat on that pier and drank beer together with our feet in the water. You sat with a depressed drunk everyday, even when I gave you the cold shoulder and cut you short. You were always there. You saw me on that pier and you sat with me. No judgement. Just kindness. It sounds pitiful that kindness is what made me see you differently. It wasn’t that I didn't feel anything for you, I was scared of getting my hopes up. So I tried to push you away. But it didn’t deter you. “ 

“Of course it didn’t Shane. You’re special and I love all the parts about you, even when you’re a grump.” 

“Rose, I love you so much. You are a light. I chose this spot for our date tonight because, well, that night you joined me on the pier, for the first time I could see past the night through til tomorrow. I started to look forward to seeing you in passing, even if I couldn’t express it. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself or ruin the friendship. But you kept being kind, you kept going out of your way to see me, and you melted me. It wasn’t until you helped me get to Harvey’s that I knew I couldn’t live without telling you how I felt. I was so scared but you smiled and loved me more. I didn’t deserve that from you. You gave me tomorrow over and over and over again. ”

“Of course you did Shane. You’ve always deserved love. Even when you were at rock bottom, you deserved love. And I'm happy to love you.” 

Shane smiled and cupped Rose’s cheek. “I love you.” 

“I love you too”

Shane reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a necklace with a small blue shell at the end of it. It shimmered and glowed before Rose’s eyes. “Rose, I can’t imagine a day without you by my side. I know I still have a long way to go and grow, but I want to grow with you. I know you’re going to think this is because of the baby, but I’ve had this planned for a long time. I love you. Jas loves you almost as much as I do. I want tomorrow with you, forever. Rose, will you marry me?” 

Tears welled up in Rose’s eyes. She was feeling a rush of joy and excitement, “Yes, yes of course. “ 

Shane fastened the necklace around Rose’s neck before pulling her into a kiss and wrapping his arms around her. “I promise to love you and cherish you and grow with you as long as I can”

Rose pulled away and cupped Shane’s face in her hands. “I promise to love you and our babies as best I can.” 

“Babies? Plural?” Shane looked worried. 

Rose smiled and nodded, “Jas and our sweet baby girl.”

Shane smiled and grabbed Rose’s hand “I don’t want to wait. Let’s get married in 3 days. We can get everything together for it by then, hell, the only thing you’ll need to do is get your dress ready. I think Emily could certainly help you with that.” 

Rose laughed. “Yeah, she’s gonna be so excited too. Say, did you tell anyone you were doing this?” 

Shane smiled, “Well, I did talk to Emily about it, and I asked Jas about it about 4 months ago. “

“Four months? But tha-”

“I told you, I’ve been planning this for a long time, Rose.” 

Rose leaned into Shane. “Spend the night tonight?” 

He smiled and hugged her. “Of course.” 

They cleaned up the picnic set, and started to stroll around the lake, just enjoying each other’s presence. 

“I’ll have to call my parents and let them know we’re getting married. “

Shane smiled. “Yeah, you’ll be Mrs. Caulfied come Saturday.” 

Rose blushed. Her fingers intertwined with Shane’s and everything felt right. The cool fall air nipped at her cheeks and the leaves crunched under their feet. 

Shane dropped the picnic basket off in front of the ranch and they walked to the farm together. 

[doof-doofblog]

"I Want Her Out - Now!"

Monday 5th April 2021

Good Afternoon everyone! Hope you've all had an enjoyable week so far! I apologise for being so late, I've been dealing with a few personal things before I go back to work next week! Anyway before we jump into the episode, I need to mention the gorgeous new promo picture that has been released, I am sure you've all seen it by now! But honestly I think's beautiful and yet really haunting! Both Whitney and Kush look like the brand new happily engaged couple, while in the shadows lurks a jealous Gray! Is Gray going to cause heartbreak for Whitney? Is his jealousy and anger going to get the better of him that he actually ends up murdering Kush?! What do you make of the new promo picture?! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

We also know that the new trailer for next week has dropped! I have to say it looks pretty exciting, finally the return of Nancy and Kush appears in court. Could Gray possibly sabotage Kush's court case in an attempt to get rid of him for longer than expected?! There are all sorts of directions the outcome could go for Kush's exit. I'd love to know what you guys think! 

Anyway, back to Monday's episode, I'm going to begin with Sheree, Lola and Isaac. It looks as if things are going well for the new couple, Lola and Isaac! Lola seems to have accepted and come to terms with Isaac's diagnosis, however Sheree still seems to act as if she thinks Lola is no good for her son. That's the vibe I'm getting anyway. She watches from the wings as Isaac gushes over Lola and offers to rush a grab her a pasty for her breakfast, as he rushes out to get his new girlfriend something delicious, Sheree once again approaches Lola. I think she's almost trying to scare the poor girl, informing her that she doesn't want her son to have a relapse and the only thing that caused it the last time was when he had his heart broken. Lola tries her absolute best to convince Sheree that she's not going to break Isaac's heart, but Sheree informs her that if she can't see herself being with Isaac for the long haul then it's best if she was to leave him sooner rather than later. I did feel sorry for Lola during this moment, it's as if Sheree has something against her, even though the poor girl has never done anything wrong? I get she's a very protective Mother and wants what's best for her son, but scaring his current girlfriend away isn't really going to help the situation. 

After doing a runner to get some time to herself, Isaac finds Lola in the cafe. There she voices her concerns about what Sheree had told her, Isaac is stunned to hear that once again his Mum has been interfering with his love-life! In an attempt to console his new girlfriend, he reassures her that he is in full control of his illness and he states that he will decide what affects him and what doesn't, claiming that Lola would never be at the centre of an issue with his illness. Although I have to say while watching this scene and they're all smiles, why did I get the feeling it's a bad omen and something bad is going to happen regarding Isaac's illness? Doesn't it seem a bit inevitable?! 

--

Okay so the next small thing I need to focus on is Iqra and Mila, much to Iqra's shock, Kim informs her that the article revolving around Kim's new business has gone live, but unfortunately the picture of Iqra and Mila that was asked to not be in the article, has made it online. This of course sets Iqra into a panic of course remembering what Mila told her about her family. 

Later on, we can see that Iqra happens to be working and Mila arrives to see her, poor Mila looks as if she has no knowledge about the article and picture going up online. Trying to be as polite as possible, she softly breaks the news to Mila. Understandably, Mila is less than happy with the news she's been given, but Iqra tries her best to reassure her that she's gotten in touch with the publishing company and they've removed the image from the article, however it didn't happen straight away and the image was still online for a couple of hours, the big question is, did the image come down from the article in time before anyone in Mila's family saw it?! Something tells me that perhaps not ...! 

--

So the next thing I have to mention is Sharon, she's managed to get her hands on her new business empire. One thing I have to note is the reveal of the old gym! As we saw how old it looked and the abandoned state it was in, I funnily enough recognise it! I can't recall the year but I do recall a very long time ago that Ronnie and Jack owned an underground gym, with a boxing ring?! I vaguely remember seeing that! Please tell me whether anyone else remembers?! Feeling proud of new empire, she calls in both Jean and Mo to clean the place up so she can get to work on getting the gym back in business. Unfortunately for Sharon, Jean lashes out at her - for reasons we can completely understand I'll discuss shortly. But Jean basically lashes out at the business woman, claiming that people like her get everything they want while other people have to suffer and struggle with their every day lives. Jean point black refuses to clean the room, also considering that it smells of sweat men and dirty underpants! (Ew!) 

--

I guess this is where I bring Jean into it. Poor Jean is having to deal with the loss of her daughter going to prison for something she hasn't done, her Grandchildren now living across the Square with their Dad and "Evil" Stepmum, plus she's having to deal with her cancer all on her own, I guess it's understandably why Jean lashed out at Sharon in the first place!

But before Jean even felt this feeling of anger and upset boil up inside her, Mo convinced her to take her anger out on the punching back in the old gym before they start the cleaning. Mo throws her a pair of punching gloves and goads her to give it a good bash! I have to admit, this particular moment where Jean is pounding the punching bag, roaring like Tarzan, I found it incredibly cute and quite funny, god bless her, as she seems to get into it she's interrupted by a phone call. 

As the words begin to spread around the family, we begin to learn that Jean and Mo have learned the devastating news that Stacey has been sentenced to a year in prison, and not just the 6 months that they were expecting. Clearly Jean is visibly devastated, she begins to question Mo what could happen in that time, most importantly, "What if I'm not here?" - of course referring to her cancer diagnosis, but it's just unfortunate that no one in the family knows about her cancer, other than Ruby!! 

This news of being away from her daughter for longer than expected is what drives Jean to lash out at Sharon, why is it that people like Sharon get to be successful and yet everything in Jean's life appears to be falling apart?! I just to say though, I've said it before and I'm going to say it again, I can't applaud Gillian Wright loud enough for her fantastic performance as Jean Slater! I have absolutely loved her character from the very beginning, I would be absolutely devastated if EastEnders where to kill her off! ESPECIALLY if they were to kill her off before Stacey's return - that would be just bloody heart-breaking! Will Jean possibly change her mind about having treatment that in the hope of her getting better she could be well by the time Stacey returns? Who knows?! As Jean and Mo walk out of the gym, leaving Sharon to find other people do to the cleaning for her, they both head for home to find a delivery van parked right up against the entrance of their house. Ironically the delivery happens to be for Sharon, happening to be all her new gym equipment. Even though Mo informs the delivery driver about her mistake, Jean is once again overcome with frustration and anger.

Trying to get a point across to the delivery driver that she simply can't get into he house, the delivery driver simply doesn't do anything to help, she simply doesn't care and is just doing her job be delivering goods, regardless of where she parks her van. As things seem to escalate, Jean notices that the van has been left unlocked. Taking matters into her own hands, Jean quickly jumps inside the van and starts the engine, this is where the events taking place seem to grab everyone's attention. Both the delivery driver and Mo instruct Jean to get out of the vehicle, otherwise she'll be joining Stacey in prison! (Even though this appears to be something Jean actually wants!) 

As the locals begin to see what's happening, Sharon also happens to watch from across the Square the shenanigans taking place, but it's only when Mo informs her that Jean is driving away with her goods that she jumps into action. In an attempt to stop Jean from doing something she regrets the begin to chase after the vehicle, but Jean speeds off abruptly, causing all the gym equipment to fall out of the back of the van. I know the next episode has already aired and you guys may have already seen what happens next, but I just hope that Jean will be okay, will she realise her mistake?! 

--

Lastly, after moving in with her Dad and "Evil" stepmum, Lily is doing everything she can to make Ruby's life a living hell, waking up the whole household with karaoke at 7 in the morning! (Also Mamma Mia is an epic tune to do karaoke too!). Although Lily has dragged her young siblings into causing chaos to annoy their Stepmum, Ruby walks in demanding that they stop their rowdy behaviour and switches the music, however as soon as Martin comes in after hearing the commotion, he understands the excitement his children must be feeling for living with him again and ignores his wife's frustration and turns the music back on, much to Lily's delight!  

As the day goes on and the word spreads about Stacey having to spend a whole year in prison, Lily's mood is understandably sunken that it was earlier. As Ruby tries to console her Stepdaughter, she claims she wants to try and cheer her up by taking her into town and spoiling her on a new outfit. At first Lily seems tempted but she soon realises that because of her, her own Mum is going spending a lot longer amount of time away from her and informs Ruby that she will pay for what she's done! 

Meanwhile, as Martin catches up with Kush in the Vic and they both come to terms with the news of Stacey's sentence, Kush begins to question how they're going to look after the kids and questions whether Arthur would like to live with him and Whitney for a while before Kush has to go to trial. Of course at this moment in time, Kush has no idea that the children have moved in with Martin and Ruby, and when Martin fills him in, I think it's fair to say that Kush is less than impressed. Mainly because of Ruby, of course he believes his son Arthur would be safe in Martin's hands, but when he questions whether Ruby is up for it, it's plain to see that he doesn't trust Ruby with his son. Especially when she was the one who manipulated him in leaving the Square with Arthur and bribed him with her money! Oooo the more this story goes on, the more I hope that Martin will soon learn about Ruby's lies! She has to be found out at some point, right?! 

Later, Ruby finds Lily and little Hope causing more mayhem in her house, it looks as if this time Lily has gone into Ruby's wardrobe and decided to play "Dress Up" with her clothes! As Ruby dismisses Hope, she approaches demanding an explanation, but Lily reveals that they were bored, but they had more fun once the scissors came out! To her absolute horror and dismay, Ruby finds that placed across her living room table, a white gown has been ripped and torn into shreds! 

Ruby lashes out and Lily, calling her a "Cow", as Martin returns from his catch up with Kush he walks in to the commotion and asks what's going on, it's then that Ruby informs him that Lily has destroyed her dead's Mum's wedding dress and without a word from Martin, she claims she no longer wants Lily living with them and demands she leave the house immediately! I have to say from Lily's reaction of shock, I think she didn't seem to know it was her Mum's wedding dress perhaps she thought it was something else? Or - big possible twist - is Ruby playing Lily at her own game and it isn't her Mother's wedding dress at all?! 

Again, I know more episodes have been aired an I don't know the outcome, so please no spoilers, but I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next. I apologise once again for this post being so late but I hope I'll be able to catch up very soon, it's most likely that my next post will be a double episode post again! I'm away from my computer this weekend and I'm back in work on Monday, so I'll try and do my next post Monday evening! Thank you all again for your support, it really does mean the world! I'll look forward to hearing any questions you may have for me! Thank you for reading, enjoy your weekend! Love you all xXx

[theinnerhalf]

2019 in Review: Highlights

Making a venture back into writing again with this “year in review”. I guess I’m slightly less damaged than I was last year and have finally built the courage to write about how this year was for me, even some dark times included. Thank you 2019, for not much, but I guess thank you. A “fuck you” would be more appropriate but regardless, I’m grateful. Let’s do this. 

January 2019

An extremely slow start to the new year, as it usually is when it comes to me. My January’s tend to be bleak, gray, and cold especially considering the coming down from a constant holiday high. I spent this first month with friends I could call my family, regularly going out as much as we could while the two military guys (EJ and James) are here for the time being. In this month as well, I got to finally meet up with my ex who I can now proudly call a friend. Diana and I were able to catch up extensively to make up for all the lost time, talking about things like how we’ve been, the changes, the constants, and occasionally reminiscing. I know I’ve felt at peace before already, for having her back into my life rather than staying a bittersweet memory, but getting to catch up like this was a whole other type of joy I didn’t know I needed. As for the picture of the pants, I finally made the decision to buy a pair of jeans that I wanted soooo so bad from one of my favorite designers. 

February

Goodness...Where do I even start for this month?...Like January, February for me is usually bleak. Regardless it being a month for “love”, it sucked. Maybe the worst for me in the year. The start of this month wasn’t all too bad though! There was a fashion show that Celine was walking/modeling for held at Rice University in order to celebrate Asian cultures and Chinese New Year. The show overall was alright...I guess it was just nice to be out supporting Celine and whatnot. I thought this month would at least provide a break for me, but just five days later, my grandma was sent to the ICU after suffering from a stroke...It happened so suddenly...Celine and I were at an outing when the two of us came back to my place and ran into my dad who was leaving in a hurry. He had a lost look on his face, as well as panicky and shifty eyes. He broke the news to us and had the sinking feeling in me hit so fast. The next thing I know, we’re at the hospital waiting room, anxiously waiting to be briefed with (hopefully) good news. I remember disassociating when the doctor had finally came to us, thinking that this really couldn’t be happening...not to us...not to my dad. I remember thinking that this isn’t fair...We literally had just gotten her into our lives’ and now we’re losing her. 

We spent the following week trading stays at the hospital between my siblings and cousins. I can’t remember the proper psychology term for the feeling of false hope and security for an event that seems to be too horrible to be true, but that was what I had felt for the entire time. There’s no way that my family could lose our grandma like this...and not this soon. Just a day before my grandma’s stroke happened, she was asking when my younger sister and I were going to get married. The two of us looked at each other like, “What the fuuuu--? Where is this coming from?” My grandma explained shortly after that she felt as if she didn’t have much longer for her time here with us, and that she wanted to have the honor to make the dresses and suits for Lacel’s or my wedding. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how cruel and merciless the world could be, but also at the same time, that I should’ve known better and that I should be used to this...I should be but I would rather not. I think it was after a week and a half where I found that my grandma would be transferred to a hospice. My family had told me this and I was under the impression that hospices were for people who had recovered enough that they don’t need to be in a hospital but still needed professional caretakers. I told this to Andrew and Quin and they both shared painful and shocked expressions with each other. I asked why they were looking at each other like that and then they broke it to me that hospices were for people who didn’t have much time left. I remember crying in front of them that day during work.

Virginia Barreda passed away, February 19, 2019. My family grieved separately and in different ways. I slept off the entire day...The picture of the room was how my grandma left the room right before she was taken to the hospital and was left untouched for the entire duration of the situation. I embarrassingly and shamefully made a gofundme to help raise money so that my family and I could attend her final farewell back home in the Philippines. I thought it wouldn’t get anywhere...but my heart...I was so surprised to see the amount of love and support that friends and even strangers had decided to put out, and I was touched beyond anything I had ever expected. A big thank you to those who donated and have come across this post by any way. You have my sincerest gratitude and even with that, I cannot thank you enough. 

To end the note on a positive note at least, Celine and I hit one year at the end of this month. Amazing. 

March

My family and I were in such a weird head space entering this month. There was a lot of recovering to be made and coming out of the state of denial from my grandma’s passing. It was like a new chapter of our lives abruptly opened itself onto us and we all did not know how to proceed. My dad was stressing out over medical expenses and how we were going to afford to bring the entire family to Philippines for my grandma’s final resting place. I did my best to keep the gofundme a secret from him, because knowing my dad, he would not accept the money under any condition. He only came to find out about it because some of his friends and relatives came across it, donated, and then told him about how sentimental and touching my gofundme passage was. He just asked why, and I regrettably said that it was because we were struggling out here and all I wanted to do was help. After some convincing with the help of my two sister’s, my dad accepted the help and agreed that we can now at least afford to take my dad for the initial ceremony while the rest of us would follow-up, hopefully in the summer or late 2019. 

The first picture in this month’s set is of the Pieta in Italy, taken by Lacel. Lacel was on a two week school trip, while in the second picture is the view my dad had while his two week stay in the Philippines. Both my older sister and I stayed at home while envying our dad’s and Lacel’s experiences. Their trips only served as motivation for me to save up a lot more for Japan and I really wanted to make that happen no matter what. Even if it meant me going alone, I was ready to accept it. 

The following pictures of Lacel are when they came back from Italy and celebrated their two years of being clean/no relapses. I know I rarely ever let it be known, but I really do care and love my younger sister a lot, and to see them make it this far in the span of two years meant so much to me. I’m glad that my family was able to celebrate that milestone in Lacel’s life because it was definitely quite the journey. The last photo is of my car’s fourth brake light functioning again with Travis’ help and was fixed just in time for the long drive to Marfa. 

April

Really, the only one significant highlight for this month, which I am incredibly excited to share, was the moderately spontaneous trip I took out to Marfa, Texas with Yentl. I do have to say, the two of us were quite ambitious for taking on this trip by leaving Houston around 12am shortly, after grabbing oh my gogi and some boba. With the help of a trenta iced coffee, I was able to knock out 6 hours of the 8 hour drive. While the drive was a lot of fun, I started getting really sleepy around the 4 hour mark but it started raining extremely hard after we had passed San Antonio. I was so reluctant to switch over to Yentl driving because I had been losing traction every now and then. It was only until the sun rose that we finally had passed the rain. I shortly knocked out after the switch.

I woke up to Yentl ecstatically saying, “We’re heeeeere!” I opened my eyes and was immediately blinded, forgetting that daytime was a thing. But from the short time my eyes were open, I saw a railroad and buildings styled from days of the past. I fought to keep my eyes open only to tell myself, maybe five more minutes. As soon as we parked, Yentl and I took the opportunity to walk around.The weather was pleasant, not too hot and not too cold either. The humidity that seems to be a pestering presence in Houston was nowhere to be found in Marfa, so the daytime stroll was bliss. The two of us checked out Marfa’s welcome sign, the city hall (only from the outside because it was closed), a couple of local shops and art galleries, and the hotel Paisano, a hotel best known for having a movie shot in it. 

All the walking had made us hungry...That and the only thing inside of us were boba and caffeine. Yentl and I checked out a place called Aster’s that was primarily a breakfast joint recommended to us by a person working at the welcome center. We both got an egg’s benedict. Me with a lemonade, and her an iced coffee. After eating, we proceeded to go to our Airbnb located 30 minutes away at another small town called Alpine. The Airbnb’s neighborhood was located in some rural area with cliffs surrounding it all. The Airbnb itself was a small and cute place that was divided into just three small parts: the bedroom, living room, and a bathroom. Yentl and I freshened up, put on the new fits, and made our way back to Marfa.

Headed back, we decided that we would first go see the outlandish Prada store located in the middle of the desert. The Prada store itself is a permanent art installation by artists Elmgreen and Dragset, built with the concept of using biodegradable materials so that the art installation could eventually return and be reclaimed back to Earth as all things eventually do. The drive to Prada, Marfa was an unexpectedly longer drive than I thought. It was a non-stop view of your textbook Western landscape...Desolate, scattered with ordinary desert shrubbery, and one thing to set it apart, a lonely, silver blimp just casually floating at the wind’s mercy. 

When we finally arrived, it looked surreal to say the least. The building was so unexpectedly placed, yet at the same time, it wasn’t intrusive to the desert landscape. There were less people there than I had thought, which made it easier for Yentl and I to take the photos we wanted. What a pleasant oddity it was, I thought, to even drive eight hours just to see this left me with a sense of fulfillment knowing that this had been on my personal bucket list for quite some time.

The two of us made our way back to the city to kill some more time before it was time to see the mystery Marfa lights. We checked out a bookstore placed in the lobby of a hotel, wandered around the from one edge of the town to the other, checked out some more art galleries, and ate dinner at a local BBQ place. The sun was on the verge of setting so we headed to the viewing area that was located right beside the highway. We got there conveniently early and was able to secure a good parking spot as there was not even a designated parking lot. Yentl and I situated ourselves onto a bench with a clear view of the field. We both sat there in amazement of the sunset…layers on layers of colors dancing in the sky, almost a love letter to us from the sun itself, as it sank over the horizon, tucking itself in to say goodnight. The two of us couldn’t wrap our heads around the fact that we actually did this, an 8-hour drive to see some art and an unexplained natural phenomenon that happens in the desert at night. We really did this.  

The sky turned from its calm lilac tones to an enveloping darkness and what followed were gasps of oooooh’s and aaaaah’s. It was finally happening. We peered over the horizon, somewhat confused, and there it was. Beside a constant blinking red light, appeared the mystery lights, bobbing up and down inconsistently, disappearing and reappearing on a whims notice. Yentl and I watched in awe and pondered about the mysteries of life like, does the supernatural exist, are there aliens out there, and what does it truly mean to love? Apart from the mystery lights themselves, the stars overhead was truly a sight to take in. The indescribable feeling of being small while looking up at the stars happens to be a favorite sensation of mine, but only this time, I was overwhelmed by it. I found a completely empty bench to lay down on just to look up. It must have been the most relaxed I have been since forever and I never wanted the feeling to end…But as all good things do, it did. Yentl and I made our way back to our Airbnb after catching what seemed to be a UFO flying above us. Marfa truly was surreal.  

The two of us rested for the night, packed our stuff the next day, and made our way on the long journey back home.

May

The start of this month initially started incredibly slow. Not much has been done aside from learning how to shoot better on film which I spent a lot of my time on. I would keep pestering my friends to let me use them as models and surprisingly, they agreed! The first three photos are just a few of the pictures taken. This was also the month that the restaurant I work at, Noon (previously known as Verts, also previously known as Vertskebap), had undergone the change to being Daphne’s Greek Mediterranean. The change allowed us to finally get tips trough credit cards and no longer just cash tips. This allowed me to leave my shifts with a lot more money in hand.

It occurred to me…with this I could finally make my Japan trip a reality…In the span of just a week, I was able to raise 100 dollars in just tips alone (I know this doesn’t sound like a lot, but this is a big difference coming from leaving work with no more than 50 cents to 5 dollars on a busy day). I decided that the tip money would be strictly set aside for Japan and Japan only. I thought at the rate it was going, a 100 dollars per week would be sufficient for a trip set out in October/November. The rough estimate was at least around 2000 dollars if I decided I would really stay true to my word and not touch this extra money.

In this month also, my little sister got their associates degree in art, which I am really proud of! They then decided that they would be continuing their education at the university of Texas at Dallas. The last picture is a picture of one of my favorite musicians, blackbear, taken at a concert for his DEAD 2 THE WORLD tour. It was my second time getting to see him perform live, and while he was not in the best health to perform my favorite song the way that he usually does, it was still quite the experience. I would be more than happy to see him perform live again, and hopefully in better health.

June

Ahhh June. What better way to start of this month by getting into an accident…My neighbor ran into the passenger side door of my car while they were reversing and failed to see that I had already pulled out first. Extremely disappointing knowing how much my car means to me…What followed shortly after were series of looking for a trustworthy and affordable auto body and collision shop to do the work while being able to get covered by the person at fault’s insurance. Was honestly such a convoluted process and was so stressful that a part of me decided that maybe I would just leave and live with it. I ended up finding a shop called legendary auto and agreed to the other person’s insurance’s choice to only cover 80 percent of the costs because I allegedly had some “preventative measure” on stopping the collision from happening. Me, tired and not in the mood for a disagreement, agreed. I just wanted my car back to the way it was before.

The next highlight for this month was for an overnight camping trip I took out with my family and other family friends somewhere near Austin. It was a lot of fun! Everything was nearly perfect with the trip aside from the sweltering heat combined with a THICK humidity that made its dominance extremely clear. I remember there being so much good food…and with family friends that you’ve grown up with, there was never a shortage of people telling you to eat more when you just downed three plates of crawfish, bbq, and rice. There were boats and a tractor with a little tow for people to ride on in the back, a working NES system, a basketball court, playground, and an entire forest to explore. We spent our time playing card/board games, held a basketball competition, the dads versus the boys, a bonfire complete with smores, and a sad attempt at a Marvin’s room music video, complete with a hot tub and color changing lights.

Spending your time consistently outdoors resets your internal clock, and so by 9, everyone had started to get ready for bed. I remember being outside on the campgrounds and it being pitch black. Not being able to see past 15 feet in front of me at the most. One look at the sky in this setting and there was the full moon. Brighter than I had ever witnessed it…almost blinding to be honest. The older “kids” were cooped up in the RV designated for more kids to sleep in and were there playing monopoly deal. I joined in and found ourselves playing monopoly deal until 2am until I called it a night. I woke up the next day, sad to leave earlier than we’d have to because I had a shift at work to attend to even with all the begging I did with my other coworkers to cover for me.

As for the rest of this month’s highlights, I finally got the see the Van Gogh exhibit that was here at the Museum of Fine Arts. It was the most packed I have ever seen the MFAH in a long time and was glad that I was able to see Van Gogh’s work as art is always inspiring to me…Sad that the starry night wasn’t there but that’s alright. I also got to visit and hang out with Yentl this month during a trip I made to Dallas for Lacel’s scholarship interview. I haven’t seen her since our trip to Marfa and we got to talking about the Japan trip we’d be potentially taking out in the fall. We had Gyu-kaku (which she covered for like BRUH) and went over the possible itinerary that I had been researching for months now. As usual, it was always nice to see her, and I left Dallas feeling even more hopeful and motivated for the trip.

July

After one long month, I finally got my car back in perfect condition! So exciting to see my car just the way it used to be…Marwan and the rest of his team over at Legendary auto have all my gratitude for doing a stellar job. Could not thank them enough. For this month also, my family and I visited Galveston for the 4th of July, mainly for a parade and pleasure pier. It was a really nice experience getting to spend a whole outing with my family which we aren’t able to do often considering how busy we all are. Even more so with Lacel going to school soon in an entirely different city the following month. As for the final highlight of this month, I got to catch up on life with Lexi as we talk about the occurrences of life and sometimes even the past and how much we’ve grown from it. Always an experience to see her and it’s so interesting to see how I get to hang out with her during my days in college when in high school, we weren’t all that close.

August

I kicked off this month by helping my younger sister pack and move into their apartment in Dallas. We had to rent a car for all their stuff to fit because the 86 definitely was not able to carry everything that Lacel was bringing. It was a quick and pretty emotional ordeal, having one last dinner together as a family, and then having to say goodbye. I thought that would be the last time I would see my sister for a long time, but soon enough, I found myself making a trip to Dallas once a week for five weeks straight haha.

For the next highlight, it’s just a picture of me reveling in the fact that I had finally mustered the courage to go and change my major from nursing to journalism. I was shocked by how much easier it would’ve been for me to finish my associates if I had done this so much sooner. I found myself with only two more semesters, and maybe even just one if I had dedicated myself to just school. Also, in August, I had been unemployed for about two months prior. Shoutout to Daphne’s for pulling the rug from underneath my friends and I without any warning whatsoever. A double-edged sword might I admit, because while it left me unemployed suddenly, the closing of Daphne’s allowed to me find more opportunities and finally be free from the comfort of familiarity that the restaurant had provided me for about four years. Being in H-E-B made me realize how much I was missing out on such a good work environment. Everyone was absurdly and unbelievably nice…The customers in my H-E-B are also nothing compared to the customers I dealt with in food service and my goodness, it was such a nice change of pace. Happy to be here, cause after all, “here, everything’s better.”

For the last highlight of this month, Celine threw an e-boi/girl themed late birthday party. It was honestly really well set up, especially with the Airbnb and the vibes it had come with. They were constantly anxious about how their party would end up and I was always telling them that it would be a lot of fun! Which in fact, it did turn out to be a lot fun and it was so interesting to see everyone so dedicated to the theme of the party. Seeing Celine around a lot of the people they care about was really something, and to see them have such a fun and good time was all that mattered.

A little later into this month, Celine and I decided to end things on a mutual note. Things had been comfortable for a while, and while there may have still been feelings, things have stagnated…A lot…My mental health at this point of our relationship wasn’t anywhere close to where I’d want it and things haven’t been okay with me for a long time. I spent a lot of my time getting triggered over the past and my thought process started falling towards methods of self-destruction rather than dealing with things head on. I found myself either in a constant state of anger or depression over not knowing how to deal with the thoughts eating away at me. Had I waited any longer, I’m not sure what I would have done.

Sad as that may have been…It was ultimately for the better. At least I hoped it was…

September

(Insert obligatory “Do you remember”) September was thankfully one of the better and more eventful months out of the year and kicked it off with Yentl’s birthday party. I remember making the 4-hour drive for the second year in a row just to celebrate a dear friend’s birthday. I arrived later than most and found myself in the middle of a really nice neighborhood where the Airbnb was located. Interesting, I thought. The area was devoid of streetlights with a lake nearby and made me hopeful that maybe a getaway like tonight could really take me away from all that was going on in my head. I’ll drink to that.

I shyly walked in, asking people where Yentl was. I was led to the kitchen where she was and found her already multiple drinks in. Received a tight hug from her and was cordially invited to start drinking haha. I told her that I’ll a eat a little bit, maybe get re-acquainted with everyone and the Airbnb first, properly settling in before I find myself trying to drown my demons lurking behind the corner, waiting to make themselves present in my conscience. I held my trusty detox water, comprised of lemon and limes, tightly, hoping it’d be my saving grace for this party. The objective for the night: Survive…But have a good time. I chatted up with people I haven’t seen in so long…probably since Yentl’s last birthday but I guess because of the vibes the party had, it felt incredibly easy to converse.

I made my way to the pool where everyone happened to be in the meantime. Too self-conscious to jump in so I just snapshotted everyone on film for the most part. Took the liberty and made myself the party’s personal photographer for the night. I went back inside to admire the Airbnb a little bit more or sneak a drink by myself but was ushered to take shots of someone’s personal tequila concoction. “I hate tequila”, I thought…but why not? The vibe was right and the goal was to get out of my mind one way or another. I downed it, regrettably. The burn of the tequila was reminiscent of the nights I spent uncoordinated, lacking self-control, and being passed out in a fetal position beside a toilet fighting for dear life. After recollecting myself after that shot, I was immediately handed another one while not realizing it. Everybody started bracing themselves for the shot, gathering their chasers and mentally preparing for the hit while I on the other hand, looked at everybody and the cup in my possession utterly appalled at the situation unfolding in front of me. Three…two…one…cheers.

After that, the rest of the night was a blur. There came I point where I nearly blacked out because my vision had nearly gone, but after two full servings of my detox water, I was all good to go. I spent the rest of the night just talking, occasionally grooving to Jayson’s live mixing, playing smash bros and leaving undefeated, making conversations, and trying my best to stay out of my head. The party had started to slow down so I went outside to sit by the pool with a glass of wine and admire the quiet and stillness of the night. The backyard overlooked a lake and I was reminded by how nice this Airbnb really was. The moon wasn’t out so it was extra dark and allowed for some reflecting on a couple things, like the break-up…maybe on how lonely I was feeling. I watched some ducks pass by and called it a night. I went back inside and saw Yentl passed out on one of the couches. Made sure she was okay, and we had a conversation about several things, like the break-up…and how lonely I was feeling. Eventually the conversation ventured onto more positive things like how nice this Airbnb is, how nice this party was, some unwanted drama that happened during this party, and the upcoming Japan trip.

After just spending a little more time with each other, and a disagreement on who would take the last bed and sleep on the couch, we said goodnight as she had declared I get the bed. Had to respect the birthday girl’s wishes, even when it was her who had paid for the entirety of this Airbnb…Not to disclose that information or anything, but it was a LOT. I woke up, surprisingly not hungover all thanks to the detox water. As much as I had wanted to stay for any further hangouts of the day, I had to leave for a shift at 2pm. I drove the four-hour drive back home hastily, only to find out that I wasn’t needed for work and that I could actually take the day off…Amazing. Thankful that I was able to attend the party in the first place and see Yentl at all.

The following highlight was a concert I attended in Dallas for the artist Aries’ Welcome Home tour and was a largely anticipated experience for both my younger sister and I. Aries had grown to be one of my favorite artists because of how new and refreshing his sound was. I also happened to find his music during a defining point in my life, specifically during a three hour mindless drive leading to nowhere and found myself halfway to San Antonio and has become the mood and aesthetic I had been living in for a quite a while now. Months prior, my sister and I had been listening to him constantly in preparation for this concert. My only concern was that since Aries is a smaller artist, the concert might only end up being more like a listening party rather than him actually performing. By listening party, I mean that his songs are playing in the background and is overpowering his vocals or that he’s not performing for majority of the time.

My sister and I arrived at the venue with the discovery of a line that wrapped around the entire block. The suspense was too real. The feeling of knowing that I just happened to stumble upon Aries from a YouTube video of him remixing a Post Malone song into a lo-fi one, to him suddenly having the anthem of the entire spectrum of my anger and the prolonging bitterness that dwelled inside me. His music is definitely a trigger, but in a different way. His music gets me angry but doesn’t drive me to a seething, blinding rage the way I see anything remotely related to skateboarding, tall fuckboys with curly hair, or the name Kevin (fuck you Kevin…fuck you!). If anything, his music was a testament to the three months of mental and emotional anguish I had undergone earlier in 2018. I was more than ready to yell my heart and lungs out to the lyrics, “fuck your friend, that man’s a bitch, probably wish I don’t exist”, and “Promise that I will stay out of reach, far gone, cause the shit still bothers me.”

The concert left me speechless by how much energy there was from the crowd, the hype man, and Aries himself. While it may only have been just over an hour, it was the most invigorating concert I have attended by far. Probably the most fun too. As Lacel and I headed out after taking pictures with the venue and our tour merch, we were suddenly told that Aries had came out to greet people. We rushed back in and just stayed around, somewhat awkwardly, casually standing by as fans took pictures with or of him. He was able to sign a piece of paper that Lacel handed to him and he left shortly after taking a big group picture with the fans that were present. We left soon after, put on his Welcome Home album to relive the concert in the car, and got lost driving around Dallas for maybe another hour to end the night.

The last highlight for this month was Quin’s birthday celebration that him and his closest friends organized. The initial plan was to pre-game at Marian’s place and then follow up by going out to Washington Ave. which is notoriously known for Houston’s night life scene. I arrived at Marian’s apartment for the pre-game, and even before I could greet anyone, a friend came by me with a bottle of Hennessy and started pouring some in my mouth. “So it’s gonna be that type of night”, I thought haha. I finally got around to greeting everyone including the birthday boy who was in the middle of taking a shot and was then shortly handed one to take alongside Quin and a handful of other friends.

We eventually made our way to Washington Ave. in different Ubers and arrived at Concrete Cowboy. The whole group lined up and waited for our turn to get in. As we neared the entrance, I pulled out my ID in anticipation as I’m used to being told that I don’t look older than 19 most of the time. The bouncer let my friends in but said something to me that I couldn’t quite make out over the music blasting from inside. I said excuse me, thinking like, hello…my ID is legit, I promise you I’m legal and this is a valid ID haha. “No air forces”, he said. “What?”, “No air forces…”, he repeated. Back to the line I went, astonished that this was even a problem in the first place. I received a bunch of texts from my friends asking where I was and exclaimed to them that I was denied access because of the shoes I was wearing. I went to the little fence that Concrete had and exchanged my air force 1’s with Andrew’s dress shoes and lined up once more.

Eventually that was all a waste because the group ended up leaving Concrete Cowboy…WITHOUT the birthday boy. We crossed the street to another club/bar that escapes my memory but this time around they let me in regardless of my shoes. Immediately, this was already better than the experience with Concrete, from the music, the general vibe, to how less packed it was. Ruben bought everyone two rounds of shots for some reason, and it really helped loosen everybody up. While the group was having a lot of fun in this bar, a handful of us felt guilty that we were having this much fun without Quin and decided we should go back to Concrete to go celebrate with the person this night was originally dedicated to. We left to go line back up across the street, only to find others that also separated from Quin to come join us over where we were at…We all found ourselves back in the same bar/club we just left haha.

Feeling guilty of admitting to this, but we were having an absolute blast at the place we were at. My friends and I ended up having the biggest floor presence and had even started a cypher with the occasional strangers jumping in who had actual dance experience as well. My friends and I shook hands and even made friends with these strangers after finding out we had mutual dance friends and connections to major Houston dance studios like soundbox and soreal. 2PM had finally snuck its way into the night and it was time to go back to Marian’s to regroup. We arrived at Marian’s apartment to find out that Quin had gotten shitfaced at Concrete Cowboy. Quin! The same Quin who took 20+ shots on his 21st birthday, just to be fully coherent, coordinated, and mentally sound to take care of other people rather than being taken care of. There he was, bent over the toilet, clutching it for dear life. It was an absolute sight to behold, and one we would never let Quin live down. It was finally our turn to take care of him, and as friends that love Quin, we were more than happy to finally get the opportunity to pay the favor back.

October

My birth month. My favorite month too and well deserved so. October for me is the transition from the Hell that is Houston’s summer to those cool crisp Autumn afternoons. A transition from bright yellow and blue hues to the golden, orange, and amber tones that coincide with everything regarding the season of fall. Fall is Halloween. Fall is Thanksgiving. Fall is pumpkin picking and carving, apple pies, and the metaphorical dusk of the year, while interestingly sharing the same colors as a sunset. This month was surprisingly uneventful but was largely a pre-cursor for what was coming up in November: Yentl’s and my Japan trip.

The first highlight for this month was this photoshoot/hang out with fellow FRZ86 owners, Lily and Ray. I was meeting both of them for the first time and was excited that they both agreed to be models for further practice with my film camera. Really happy with how the shots came out, I felt ready for taking pictures in Japan and grew more confident in this new profound hobby. The following highlight for this month but not pictured for privacy reasons, was my approval for my travel visa. The news had me beaming. After days of gut-wrenching anxiety at the thought of refunding my airfare, the Airbnb, and all the plans just going to waste if I was not approved, the good news was a major sigh of relief. It had finally cemented the trip, and the only thing that was left, was to save as much as I can in this last month.

My money saving process for the rest of this month involved eating four slices of a day for lunch (only when I was at work), refusing to hang out, and reducing my eating out budget to just under 30 dollars. I was determined. My will power, incorruptible. I attended a hang out that involved eating, and I only spent my money on a drink. My savings were not going to be stopped…My birthday eventually came around and my family and I found ourselves in Dallas…for the second year in a row. I don’t remember exactly why we were celebrating MY birthday in Dallas just to hang out with my younger sister, but that’s just what went down. We went to Gen Korean BBQ for lunch, and followed up with boba (a must). We hung around a Kinokuniya for a little bit to kill time and were deciding on what we should do now. I just threw in that maybe we could stop by the Dallas galleria to just waste even more time, while in the back of my head, I had a burning desire to finally pull the trigger on something I’ve been wanting since the summer of 2017: a Gucci ghost ring.

I only mentioned my intentions to my younger sister because I knew my idea would be met with opposition and disappointment from my dad. After several times being asked why we had decided to go here, I mentioned that I was buying the ring, as a big gesture to myself for making it this far and as a final accessory to bring along to Japan for the outfits I had planned. Ran me back $250 dollars, but did I mind? Not one bit. So much for saving…haha.

To close out October, I departed for Dallas to pick up my sister and Yentl. The plan was to pick up Yentl from Dallas, drive back to Houston because that’s where we’ll be departing for Japan, have a layover BACK in Dallas, and after an 8-hour flight, arriving at Narita airport in Tokyo weirdly at the same time we had left from Dallas due to time zones. The plan sounds counterintuitive with the layover being in Dallas and all…but departing from Dallas added an extra 400 dollars to the airfare. It also worked because it meant that neither of us would have to make a 4-hour drive back home to our respective cities due to another layover in Dallas on the way back home.

November

This month will have an entire separate post dedicated to Japan.

Enjoy these pictures for the meantime. 

December

After Japan. I had spent the rest of November coming down from the high I had experienced from my vacation. I had to deal with the come down as well as the seasonal depression that comes along with the shorter days of Winter, despite always being fond of the season. It’s going to sound a little silly to admit, but things really did start to lose meaning. I had this goal of traveling to Japan for as long as I could remember, and it was finally fulfilled! The long workdays, forty-hour work weeks, the months of research and planning, and just everything I had been doing was for the sake of trip.

Not wanting to feel as if my life had lost meaning, I forced myself to get into the holiday spirit…Or at least I tried.  In the first highlight presented for this month was Travis’ Christmas present to me. A bunch of treats…and a gun. Yes, a gun. Looks like just a random assortment of food but in reality, has a ton of sentimental ties to it. As described by Travis himself, the honey buns were given because of one time we were in the campus cafeteria and I was craving honey buns. The campus was charging 2+ dollars for a single one and Travis was like, “Don’t waste your money here smh”, and told me he had spent just a little over a dollar for a multipack. The oreo thins were given because I had an obsession with oreos, the gummies because whatever, and the limon lays for a callback when Andrew, Travis, and I would have consecutive movie nights together on the summer of 2017 where we would pick our usual snacks from out midnight Walmart runs. Lastly, but definitely not least, the gun. Travis was concerned by how often I would go to so many places during the middle of the night and was also tired of being my personal protection considering he himself was armed.

The gifts left me speechless and admittedly, a little teary eyed by how thoughtful it really was. During the brief period of trying to take the moment all in, Andrew pulls out his very own and the entire room goes up in screams and laughter. Travis bought guns for the two of us! Unbelievable and entirely wild of him. I love that man to death.

The following highlight of the drink and the board game was when I finally had a first successful meeting from a connection I had on a dating app haha. Wooo Ral finally stepping out there after multiple awkward matches and getting ghosted on several platforms. The two of us met up in Dallas at a videogame restaurant bar thing, where we can eat/drink while playing on a console! Pretty cool idea and props to her for actually catering to what my interests were. Ended making a cool friend out of that meet up since. The rest of the following highlights were just more Christmas festivities such as, baking Christmas themed cookies, secret Santa with the OG5 + DJ, H-E-B white elephant Christmas party, and seeing Christmas lights with Jackie at the River Oaks neighborhood.

Just like this year in review itself, I was so eager to get the year over and done with. 2019 seemed to be bad year for the world, myself included, but finishing writing this up in 2021…I only wish I had treasured the moments just a little longer, not knowing what I will be missing the following year.

P.S. If you’re just a person randomly coming through this, thank you for your time to scroll/read

[juniperwindsong]

Necessary Monsters (6/16)

A/N: Well, as of recent game updates, my story is now AU. I considered rewriting this chapter, and I do reserve the right to go back and change it later to keep to canon. But for now, I'd like this chapter to stand in memory of a character that had no business dying (looking at you, JC).

Summary: "I need a favor." "You what?" "Don't be a prick." "Oh, off to a champion start, you are."

The only thing worse than an alarm clock is an enchanted alarm clock. Felix is sure the squat, tin object takes malicious pleasure in stabbing him to consciousness with its incessant brrrring. He groans and slaps a hand in the direction of the trunk currently serving as a bedside table, but the clock dances away from Felix's outstretched fingers, its shrill ring sounding suspiciously like laughter. Groping about in the dark for his wand, Felix waves it at the clock, now doing an ungainly jig beside the bed, and it falls forward onto its flat face in disgruntled silence.

Stumbling to the wardrobe, Felix pulls out shirt, jumper, and trousers without looking, then stares about him in the darkness for his boots. The outline of one peeks from under the foot of his camp bed, and he trips over the other on his way toward it. Sprawled across the floor, all sense of urgency knocked from him, Felix fumbles for the treacherous shoes and tugs them on with heavy fingers. He reminds himself he's only 22, which is far too young to be this ornery about his turn at night-shift. He knows the one week a month of reversed sleep cycle, and the impish alarm clock that comes with it, aren't the real reason his nerves are on tenterhooks. But they certainly don't help.

Still spread-eagle on the cold, rough wood, Felix allows his eyes to fall closed as he sends up a silent prayer to whatever entity is responsible for managing his cosmic affairs: Please, please let it come today, he thinks, over and over again, until sleep begins to trickle back through his veins.

As the breathing of its current master deepens and slows, the alarm clock rights itself and toddles across the floor towards his ear. It rubs its hands together in undisguised glee.

-

The Romanian Reserve is not at all what Felix had expected. It reminds him of what he always imagined work in an office would be like: shifts and staff meetings and performance reviews. In Peru, Felix's schedule was set by the sun or the activity of the dragons he tracked. Here, he flicks his wand over a time card in the main building and marches past the hall of tiny rooms to the cramped office where the equipment is stored, and which he has to share with the Senior Dragonologist for the Peruvian Vipertooth.

Luis Rashbold takes up almost the entire closet-sized room. Leaning back in the only chair with his feet propped on the small desk, both pieces of furniture creaking in distress, he dictates his report to a typewriter clicking away on its own. He's only a decade older than Felix, but full of the self-assurance that comes with being one of the youngest researchers to achieve a senior position.

Felix reaches across the desk and snatches the paper from the typewriter, glancing over the events of the day.

"Any change?" he asks Rashbold without looking up from the parchment.

"None. That she-dragon of yours is still hell-bent on getting to Alicanto before the mating season ends. But it shouldn’t last much longer. The summer's half gone."

Sharp pangs constrict Felix's chest at the reminder, but he breathes through them.

"The rotation started over today, didn't it? Who do we have this month?"

Rashbold flicks his dark ponytail back over his shoulder. "Lambton. And do try and go easy on the lad, the healer quit this morning. "

"You're joking. He hasn't been here a fortnight!"

"I've known shorter," Rashbold shrugs unconcernedly.

"And the one before that only got here a few weeks before I did." Felix steps around the desk, carefully avoiding Rashbold's dirt-crusted shoes. "Is the job jinxed or something?" he asks as he lifts the fireproof gauntlets and chest-plate from their hooks on the wall, eyeing the sweat stains on the inside of the equipment with distaste.

"Doubt it," replies Rashbold, sliding another piece of paper into the typewriter. "Most people just aren't cut out for dragons." He catches Felix muttering a cleaning spell under his breath and shakes his head.

Felix pulls the chest-plate over his jumper, glancing at the papers scattered across the desk.

"Did the post come yet?" he asks with a practiced nonchalance that does not fool the older man one bit. Rashbold cracks a wicked grin.

"Sorry, nothing from your secret admirer. What's it been, a fortnight now?" As always, heat rises in Felix's face unbidden, and Rashbold's grin becomes a laugh. "Too bad you didn't pick the Fireball, mate. Your face would make excellent camouflage."

Felix stomps from the room, cheeks still bright red. Rashbold's infuriating laughter follows him down the hall.

Disappointment begins its natural evolution into bitter anger as Felix strides quickly out of the building's backdoor and down the gravel path. He wastes a few minutes wishing apparition was permitted on the Reserve. It's only a twenty minute walk to the Vipertooths' habitat, which is practically nothing; it takes the Horntail dragonologists an hour to get to their plot, housed at the very back of the Reserve. But work is the only thing keeping Felix sane just at present. Each minute of silent walking is a minute he cannot stop his brain sliding into anxious thoughts about what might be happening to Juniper so many miles away.

-

When Felix first arrived, Juniper's letters, while abysmally short, had at least been consistent. No longer half a world apart, Felix received her owls almost every other day, a privilege he had been denied for many years and did not take for granted. He could tell by her wobbly and often unintelligible penmanship, Juniper's hands had not yet improved enough to make writing an easy task. Nor had her attempts to charm her quill into writing for her been successful either, she explained in her first letter, since she couldn't hold her wand steady enough to cast anything. But after being discharged from St Mungo's and purchasing a quill that took dictation from Flourish and Blotts, her letters were once again full of news: How she had been excused from end-of-year exams; how she still had no memory of her attack or attackers; how Dumbledore had insisted she spend the summer at the Khanna tree farm, an out of the way country house with many magical protections surrounding it.

Felix got the distinct impression from her letters that Juniper was frustrated with the decisions being made for her. She had been expressly forbidden from leaving the Khanna property, except for regular visits to St Mungo's, and Dumbledore and the auror, Moody, checked in on her frequently. But Juniper offered no further information about her protection detail or her recovery. As always, she kept her letters to questions and comments about Felix's new life in Romania, though even those seemed more careless with each owl. Then the frequency of her letters dipped. By the end of July, they had stopped coming at all.

Worry now keeps Felix in a constant state of nerves. He's sure someone would have contacted him if something had happened to Juniper; another attack or a sudden relapse. He remembers Snape's warning about uncharacteristic behavior, and more than once has sat down at his desk with the intention of consulting the Slytherin Head of House. But he isn't sure if a mere lack of correspondence qualifies as unusual, particularly in light of her condition. It's entirely possible Juniper is simply too busy, with her recovery and her other friends, to keep up with their new fast-paced writing schedule. Still, the vacuum of silence he's left in without her letters makes him edgier with each passing day.

Work is the only relief Felix has from the continual parade of worries and what-ifs. And today's arrival of the new junior assistant, a position that rotates between different species on a monthly basis, ensures Felix has no extra brain space to think of anything except keeping the nervous young man alive and relatively unhurt.

Ten hours later, dripping with sweat, dirt, and blood, Felix trudges slowly back across the Reserve just as the sun peeks over the horizon. Pulling off his gauntlets and stretching his sore muscles, he waits for the ever-present torment to reassert itself. The desperation to hear from Juniper, even just a few quick lines to know she's alright and hasn't forgotten him, is a physical ache nothing will soothe. Two weeks is long enough to be objectively concerned, he decides. The time has come to send an inquiry.

Debating which of her many friends to write to, Felix is startled to hear his name being called from somewhere ahead of him. He focuses on the figure in the foreground: a tall, muscular man, though that describes most of the dragonologists here, but with the addition of a cowboy hat, which can only mean one person.

"Hey there, Rosier!"

"Grahame," Felix inclines his head wearily at the Reserve's resident American, who trots toward him with an irrepressible grin.

"I got - shit, you're a mess!" the dark man exclaims cheerfully, as he looks Felix up and down.

"May I help you?" Felix replies, trying to keep irritation from his voice. The American is a junior dragonologist as well, though several years older. Felix doesn’t usually mind the man’s company, but he isn't in the mood for conversation just now. Fortunately, Grahame appears to be in his usual hurry. He thrusts something at Felix as he passes.

"Rashbold asked me to hand that to you on my way. Said you'd want it asap!"

Felix looks down at the object Grahame is pressing into his hands. It's an envelope.

"I - yes. Thank you." He tries to sound aloof, but can't keep excitement from slipping out around his hasty words.

“No worries," Grahame assures him, walking backward to keep sight of Felix. "Catch you later at the pub?" The American pronounces the final word with a fake accent and wry chuckle, but Felix doesn't notice. His entire attention is given over to the envelope in his hands.

The name on the back isn't written in Juniper's writing. Felix isn't positive, but he thinks he recognises the small, cramped script of Rowan Khanna. The morning feels suddenly chill. Fingers trembling, Felix unseals the envelope and pulls out a small slip of parchment. He reads the half-dozen lines once, and then again. Then he starts to run.

-

"Rashbold!"

"Rosier?"

The Senior Dragonologist looks up from behind the desk, taking in Felix's breathless state in mild curiousity. Felix props an arm against the doorjamb, clutching a stitch in his side.

"I need...a favor," he gasps.

Rashbold guffaws. "You what?"

"Don't be a prick," Felix growls as best he can while still panting.

"Oh, off to a champion start, you are," the larger man chuckles. He falls back against the chair, which squeaks in protest, and kicks his boots up onto the desk. He tries to fold his beefy arms casually behind his head, but the office is so small he smashes his elbow against the wall.

"What could I possibly do for you, Rosier? Never been to Peru, have I? Never chased a dragon across mountains and through forests for weeks without sleep. Don't see how I could possibly help someone such as yourself who's so much more experienced, so-"

Felix can't even feel indignant as he interjects, "This isn't a work favor. It's - personal."

Rashbold's sarcastic smile slips a little. He notices the frantic look in Felix's eye and the parchment crumpled in his hand and asks, more seriously, "What's wrong, then?"

"Something's come up. Back in England, and - I need to take a bit of leave."

Rashbold lets out another raucous laugh, this one incredulous. "What? You can't! You just got here. You're not eligible for six months at least, and even then you know Guivré hardly ever approves-"

"I know!" Felix interrupts, "That's why I need you to cover for me."

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure." Felix runs a hand through his hair in distraction. "A few days, maybe."

Rashbold shakes his head. "Nothing doing, mate. I'm jiggered as it is, I can't pull double shifts that long. I've not got enough wide-eye potion left."

"Please!" Felix's abject pleading shocks both himself and the older man. "Please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent."

Rashbold looks Felix up and down, then shakes his head again, his expression now apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Rosier. But Stella's on me about my hours as it is. If I try to pull something like this, I'll wind up in divorce."

The larger man shifts his gaze to the desk, lifting papers about at random, unwilling to look Felix in the eye.

Felix takes a heavy breath. "Fine." He tosses the gauntlets and vest in the general direction of the wall.

"Hold on." Rashbold stands in alarm. "You're not still going, are you?"

"I have to."

"But, Guivré will fire you if he finds you've gone without leave! I know you're still a bit new here, but you should know what he's like by now."

"I don't have a choice." And Felix is surprised to find his voice even and calm. It's a career-ending decision he's about to make, but somehow, he's entirely removed from any anxiety about it. It's the same feeling of clarity and focus he's used to experiencing in the wild, when circumstance demands immediate action without the luxury of second-guessing.

Rashbold crosses his arms. "Is this about your mysterious letter writer?"

Felix considers a lie, a family crisis would probably garner more sympathy, but his habitual blush betrays him.

"Yes."

Rashbold snorts. "You're seriously going to throw away your position for some girl? That won't even write?"

The heat in Felix's face becomes irritation.

"No. I mean, yes, I am, but she's not some girl. I mean, she is a girl, but..." He struggles to find words to describe everything between him and Juniper to this man who doesn't know either of them and whose business it really isn't anyway. "She's more than just a girl. She's - she's important."

"More important than your job?" Rashbold fixes the junior dragonologist with a shrewdly calculating stare that Felix hadn't considered the other man capable of. Felix holds his gaze steadily, and nods just once.

There's a short silence while Rashbold considers. Finally, the older man heaves himself back into the groaning chair in resignation.

"Alright, look. I can cover you for the week-end. I'll say you got a bad bite and are taking the cure." He points a large finger at Felix. "But if you're not back by Monday, you're on your own, alright?"

Felix's knees almost buckle with relief.

"Thank you, Rashbold," he manages, but the other man waves his words away with a massive hand.

"Don't thank me, just don't make me sorry."

-

The Khanna tree farm is as picturesque as a Christmas card in the mid-morning light, but Felix isn't in the mood to appreciate the scenery. Security measures have prevented apparition around the property for a league in every direction, so for the second time that day, Felix is forced to race on foot through the grounds. He pelts up the walk to the main building, and bangs on the door with his fist.

It's barely a minute, though it feels like an age to Felix, before the door opens and Rowan Khanna stares eagerly out, face falling slightly when she recognises him.

"Oh. Felix. I thought, maybe you were-"

"What's going on? Where's Juniper? What's happened?" he interjects in a breathless rush. Rowan's dark cheeks turn suddenly fuschia.

"Oh. Um...well, it's sort of complicated."

"What do you mean? Your letter said Juniper needed help."

Rowan stutters wordlessly, shifting her weight between her feet, face still unusually coloured, and Felix's frayed nerves snap.

"Khanna, I've left my job without leave to be here! Tell me what's going on. Now!"

The door opens farther and Felix is surprised to see Penny Haywood standing behind Rowan, expressive face full of worry.

"Are you here about Juniper?"

Felix rolls his eyes hugely. "Yes!"

The blonde girl tugs Rowan aside by the sleeve, allowing Felix to step over the threshold.

"That's good. We need all the help we can get."

A few silent minutes later, Penny is brewing tea while Rowan and Felix sit at the kitchen's wooden farm table. Rowan stares nervously down at her hands, picking at splinters in the wood. Felix takes several deep, steadying breaths, trying to keep his temper under control. If Juniper were in immediate danger, they would surely have taken him to her. But if she isn't, Khanna is going to receive an earful for putting him through all this.

"Where is Juniper?" Felix asks, with what he considers impressive calm.

"She's...not here," Rowan admits, and silent tears spill from her eyes before she can stop them. She wipes them with the back of her sleeve, knocking her glasses askew, and Felix digs his nails into his palm to stifle his panic. He calls up his old prefect skills and speaks as soothingly as he can.

"Khanna, just...calm down, and tell me what's-"

"She's alright," Penny says, turning from the heating kettle to face the table. She's mercifully tear-free, but looks concerned enough to contradict her statement. "She's not...not been attacked again or anything like that. It's - " she sighs deeply. "It's hard to explain.'

Felix closes his eyes in a quick plea for patience. "Please, try."

Penny leans back against the cooker.

"When was the last time you heard from Juniper?"

"Why?" asks Felix suspiciously.

"Because I need to know how much you don't know."

"It's been...two weeks," he admits. "but before that she wasn't saying much about what's been happening to her."

Penny hugs her arms about herself, taking a moment to gather her thoughts, while Felix drums his fingers against the tabletop in agitation.

"Okay. You know Dumbledore made her come stay here for the summer, right?"

Felix nods.

"Well, the thing is...at hospital, she seemed alright. Normal, you know? She was making plans for the summer and next term, like she always does. Even the healer said she was recovering better than expected. But...once she got here, she...changed. We thought she might just be ill or something. She was..." Penny glances toward the ceiling, presumably searching there for the right words. "Subdued, I guess. She wasn't eating, said nothing tasted of anything. And she couldn't sleep. Or wouldn't."

"What do you mean?" Felix interrupts.

"She started having these awful nightmares," says Rowan in a quiet voice. "She'd wake up screaming, didn't - didn't know where she was. It was...scary-" She sniffs, but manages to keep herself from tears. "So, she sort of stopped sleeping. At night anyway. She'd kip a bit during the day, but she'd stay up all night just - just sort of pacing and stuff. It was weird. And then she started - started..." Rowan's lip quivers violently and Penny steps in.

"She started acting, well, really kind of nasty. Snapping at Rowan, and just...really irritable all the time. I've been here a good bit, so I saw it too. It reminded me of Beatrice last summer, you know after being trapped all year. Just...not like herself at all."

Alarm bells go off in Felix's head.

"Did you tell anyone?" he asks. "Her healers or Dumbledore?"

Penny looks down, uncomfortably. "I thought it would get better. Juniper's a lot stronger than Beatrice. Stronger than anyone. You know what I mean, stuff doesn't really get to her like other people."

"I mentioned it once to Healer Early when she was here," Rowan interjects, "but she said there wasn't anything she could do. Something about how magic can't heal the mind and Juniper would just have to...get over it, somehow."

Felix frowns at this.

"I thought Juniper was visiting St Mungo's a few times a week? Why's the healer coming here?"

Rowan and Penny exchange significant glances.

"Did...did Juniper not mention?" Penny asks cautiously.

"Mention what?"

The kettle behind Penny whistles and she turns hurriedly to prepare cups, leaving Rowan to explain.

"When she took the floo to hospital, she'd have these awful sort of attacks. Like, doubled over in pain. For a really long time. And it made her hands worse." Rowan looks down at her own hands lying limp on the table, reciting her words blandly as if they were lines from a textbook. "The healer said the damage to her nerves from the Cruciatus Curse was pretty bad. And that can make magical transportation hard on the body."

Felix raises his eyebrows. "So...Juniper's not supposed to use the Floo network anymore?"

"Or apparate," Penny adds softly without turning around. "She didn't get to take the test with the rest of us."

Penny pours hot water into three cups, and sends them floating across to the table with her wand. Seating herself between Felix and Rowan, she makes a production of adding milk and sugar to her cup, stirring for longer than strictly necessary. Rowan purses her lips around the rim of her tea cup without waiting for it to cool, the steam fogging her glasses. For several minutes, the only sounds are the chink of porcelain and the gentle sipping of scalding liquid.

"Is this...permanent?" Felix manages eventually.

Rowan's cup clatters as she drops it back onto the saucer. She shakes her head violently from side to side.

"No! The healer said it should get better! That she might even be able to take the test next summer! It - It really wasn't...that big of a deal."

But Felix doubts Rowan's dubious tone convinces even herself. Juniper has always been accustomed to quickly mastering spells far beyond her year. And apparition is considered a rite of passage. He can only imagine just how "big a deal" being unable to apparate would be to Juniper.

"After that," Penny continues, still swirling her spoon through her tea. "Everything just got so much worse. I've - I've never seen Juniper so unhappy."

She trails away, staring miserably down into her cup. Felix waits as patiently as he can with his heart racing like a locomotive, but neither girl seems about to continue the story.

"So, does that mean Juniper's back at St Mungo's, then?"

Rowan busies herself cleaning the fog from her glasses, looking anywhere but at Felix.

"No," admits Penny. "See...we thought that maybe it would cheer her up to see her friends, since she's not supposed to go anywhere. So we invited them to come. We had everyone visit in shifts. You know, Barnaby and Andre one week, then Bill and Charlie. And then," Penny's chest heaves with her steadying breath. "Tonks and Tulip. They came up a couple of weeks ago, and they thought Juniper...needed to get out a bit."

Felix almost knocks over his still-full cup of tea. "But Dumbledore said she wasn't to leave the farm!"

"I know," Rowan moans, covering her face with her hands. "I tried to tell her. I knew she'd get into so much trouble if they found out, Dumbledore and Snape and that auror. But, you know what she's like."

"And Tonks and Tulip don't set any store by rules either," Penny adds in disapproval.

"But - but," Felix splutters, "where would they even go? If Juniper can't apparate-"

"Tonks has a muggle motor," explains Penny glumly. "Her dad taught her to use it. So, they all went into the city one night."

Felix struggles to keep his frustration at the two students in check. He's only four years their senior, but they suddenly seem ridiculously young to be watching out for Juniper by themselves.

"To be fair," offers Rowan timidly. "Juniper did seem a bit more herself when she got back. Or at least, she was talking again, laughing, you know?" She lowers her head to her teacup, slurping loudly.

"And I guess that encouraged Tulip and Tonks," says Penny, now fiddling with her tea spoon. "So when they left they...they sort of took Juniper with them."

"What? Where?" barks Felix in alarm.

"London," Penny and Rowan say simultaneously.

"London," Felix repeats. "So, it's taken you the better part of an hour to tell me that Juniper's run away to London?"

Both girls look uncomfortably at the table. Rowan's lip quivers violently again, but Felix's mounting frustration smothers the part of him that cares about such things.

"Surely, you wrote to me as an afterthought." Felix's voice trembles with poorly suppressed fury. "Presumably, two of the smartest witches of their year would know to contact Dumbledore immediately. Or Healer Early. Or that auror. Someone in the same country and able to ensure Juniper's safety in a timely fashion."

By the end, Felix's words are a venomous snarl, and Rowan begins to sob again. Penny looks from her to Felix, eyes pleading.

"Juniper didn't want anyone to know! She made Rowan promise not to tell anyone at the school. She - she wasn't very nice about it, either."

"And-and-and I didn't w-want her to get into trouble," wails Rowan.

Rising from her chair, Penny puts her arms around the other girl's shaking shoulders.

"We were afraid if we told Dumbledore or anyone else, Juniper might be expelled. And Rowan didn't want to break her promise," explains Penny in a soothing voice, stroking Rowan's hair. "Barnaby was the one who suggested we write to you, because...Juniper never said we couldn't tell anyone, just not anyone at the school. And you and Juniper write and she looks up to you. We thought she might listen to you if you told her to come back."

Felix is unsure whether this is true or just flattery designed to quench his anger, but either way it has the desired effect. His whole body relaxes as worry and concern take a backseat to a newly re-kindled hope growing rapidly into excitement. Perhaps this is the opportunity he's been waiting for: a chance to help Juniper when she needs it most. This isn't the monster he'd always imagined saving her from, but it could do in a pinch.

For a few minutes, Felix indulges in a half-plan, half-fantasy of knocking on Juniper's door in London, reveling in the look of shock and awe that crosses her face upon seeing him before she throws herself into his arms, just like at the Quidditch match. Well, perhaps with a few more tears, only natural given what she's been through. But all the horror is sure to melt away as he holds her, murmuring comfort against her hair, until she turns her face to his, eyes full of appreciation and something else he's only ever imagined...

Felix pushes back from the table decisively.

"Where in London?"

-

Chapter 7 | Masterpost

[borderlinebastard]

2019 has been so, so long.

in January I was struggling with uni work and self hatred. I had 1 friend after 4 years without any and I couldn't rely on him for support. helped a woman who collapsed by a bus stop.

February: I switched to part time education, got a mentor, developed a handwashing compulsion for 2 weeks, started taking far too many caffeine pills and was high for 2 weeks, went to an interview for switching my degree course and had a breakdown after it.

March: I lost weight bc the caffeine made me not hungry, was super cheerful and talkative, saw a psychotherapist for an intro meeting, grew tolerant to caffeine and fell back into depression, went to the gym?? got rejected from therapy, went to another uni interview and I could NOT convince my teacher I wanted to be in uni.

April: did a lot of paperwork and finally decided to leave uni but they let me stay in dorms, started looking for flats (aka apartments), wrote a 3k word fanfic, was passively suicidal, my bulimia eased up, met a support worker who tried to unravel all my plans, applied for welfare benefits

May: had the longest to-do list known to mankind, had several people trying to explain to me how mentally ill I am and that I was in fact elligible for welfare, had my first lucid dream, tried to learn html coding, voted for the first time, had loads of anxiety about leaving, then finally moved into a private flat with too many bugs and a toilet that didn't work, snuck into uni regularly to use wi-fi, had to sleep on my flat's floor until I got a bed, went to a nearby town and got lost in the woods, read a book after months without reading fiction, got my first tattoo, self harmed after being clean for two months

June: started amitriptyline, got a health assessment from the department of work, got interviewed for volunteer places, walked to a shop an hour away in the middle of the night, doctor said I sounded positive about the future and I got referred to/put on waiting list for CMHT, wrote a song

July: met an Indonesian girl on Omegle who made me realise I put in a lot of effort into conversations even when they’re one sided, had a health anxiety episode, had a weird dream about butterflies, drew for the first time in months, had a Very Bad Depression episode for a week and was taken off the new med and given trazodone which I didn’t take, visited my family in my hometown, had a Deep Talk with my niece, went along with my sister's busy days with shopping and parks and camping and beach visits, spoke to an old friend from my hometown after 6 years of radio silence (I can hold a stubborn grudge y’all), left my family’s house after a week bc I started getting self destructive urges and felt Bad, got declared unfit for work by the government, did some divination readings for people

August: had an OCD relapse, made some homemade stickers, got the keys to a new flat, had a nervous breakdown at the doctor's, got drunk and locked myself out, went to hypnotherapy, knitted a scarf, had so many intrusive thoughts

September: prepared to move into the new flat, started volunteering and had an anxiety attack on my first day, went furniture shopping with my support worker, slept through my birthday, bought a record player and the Sims 4, moved to new flat, started planning to write a story, support worker left after working with me since April

October: met with community mental health team for assessment, hypersomnia, dissociation, started writing a story, gave up after 2 days, finished the first chapter another 2 days later, joined writeblr but couldn't concentrate on reading other people’s work, had a paranoia episode, had some useless "help" from the council, went to a writer's group

November: experienced some bad dysphoria, ego and mood swings, went to an employability skills meeting where the guy was like “you need to socialise”, did some more volunteering, felt tearful and started sleeping through the day, had a lot of loud intrusive thoughts, stopped writing my story, started getting nostalgic and took notes from my journal to write this post.

in December 2018 I wrote in my journal that I wanted 2019 to be “fun and memorable, with a bucket list instead of resolutions as if this year would be my last”. I somehow managed to complete 10 items which is more than I thought before I checked just now. I’ve collected 260+ new songs too!

I keep forgetting to take my hypothyroidism meds, my bulimia has mostly reverted back to binge eating disorder, my OCD is mainly intrusive thoughts, my depression is pretty much always there no matter what I try and sometimes I get Double Depression days, and my BPD flares up when I’m around people. I got into several arguments this year and didn’t care when they left because People Are Drama. Though I’m also pretty good at getting mood swings even when I’m in total solitude. 

can’t wait to see off 2019 next month. it feels like I’ve aged 5 years within 1. next year will be therapy (unless he rejects me again lmao) and learning how to be healthy and productive. 

here’s to 2020 being short and sweet 🥂

[thecolorblue420]

Note: so I figured I might split this blog into chapters so it’ll be easier to understand.

CHAPTER 1: MR. I’VE CHANGED I PROMISE

I started talking to my ex from two years ago in the beginning of June of 2019. (He was my ex because when we dated the first time he moved too fast for me and I wasn’t ready for such a commitment so soon.) We met up at a coffee shop to catch up and see how much we’ve changed over the past two years. We started hanging out more often and called eachother everyday to talk about our day. Admittedly it was nice and I missed having that type of bond with someone. A month passes by and it’s now August. We’ve gotten a lot closer and comfortable with eachother so we started dating. But as the months continued to pass me by and the seasons changed from summer, to fall, to winter so did he. He began to show his true colors towards my friends and toward me. He would start fights when I went out with my friends ( even though I told him I was) because he thought I didn’t want to hang out with him, he didn’t want to get a job or get a drivers license or plan for college even though he was of age, every time I tried talking about my problems he would blame himself and I’d end up having to comfort him instead of resolving my problems, he got into a fight with my bestfriend and ended up kicking him in the nuts and he didn’t talk to me for three days, told lies to my friend to make it seem like I didn’t like her, he texted his ex girlfriend a lot telling her he still loved and wanted to be with her. (I found out through her, not him.) he told me if I ever left him he would kill himself which was just so motivational. And things like that continued to happen for months.

Me and him had made a promise to eachother. A promise that I held on to like my life depended on it. The promise was that if I didn’t self harm he wouldn’t either. But like all the other promises, he broke this one too after a fight I had with him after he hit my bestfriend. And I later relapsed after almost 6 months of being clean.

One would wonder why I didn’t just leave him. My answer is I wanted a good, healthy relationship that would end with us being married and having kids and making teenage memories. Of course that’s every teenage girls dream. And having the mindset I did I told myself, “I can change him. I can be his healing. He’ll change for me.” Update: he didn’t.

So by December I left him. He was broken so he broke me too. He didn’t need a girlfriend he needed 6 years of therapy and a motivational drive.

I got over this breakup pretty quick because when you’re finally relieved from a toxic environment the freedom that comes with that is so uplifting it’s hard to stay focused on the past.

[tiredofbeingsecondbest]

am i being abused or disciplined?

i mean i remember one time my mom got mad and went crazy over the fact that i missed a spot when sweeping so she called me downstairs and right when i came down, she grabbed me by my hair and pulled me down to the ground so that my face as right above the trash while screaming “LOOK AT WHAT YOU MISSED YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE” (just fyi my moms nickname for me is asshole as this point) and throws me on the ground and goes outside. my dad then gets up and starts yelling at me and telling me that if i dont like how things are at their house then i could leave and kept shouting at me to go. another time, we were staying at a hotel, i forget why we were but my parents and i were sharing a room and i dont remember why i was crying already but i was in the bathroom crying when my mom started yelling at the door telling me to open it and i just said that i was using the bathroom but she forced me to open it so i did and she kept yelling like why are you crying and i would just say i dont know and then i my sad came and kept yelling, may i remind you we were in a small bathroom so i kept backing up because i do that when im scared, so i said im scared and they had my hair in one hand and they kept yelling “WHY ARE YOU SCARED OF US WE’RE YOUR PARENTS STOP BEING SCARED” as they have me cornered in a bathroom crying. there was another time in fourth grade when i was at my jpo room after school because we have duty after school and on fridays we get ice pops in those skinny plastic packets and i kept getting calls on my flip phone and my jpo leader said i could answer it and when i did my gma was yelling that she was waiting for me for over 20 minutes and shes gonna beat me up when i get out so shes standing outside of the room when we were done, and shes pulling me by the hair all the way the car with many of my friends and classmates watching and she keeps hitting me on the way home, and when we get home she hits me and it makes my ice pop spill all over me and she hits me again for spilling it and tells me to clean it up so it doesnt make the floor sticky. and she then makes me write 100 sentences about telling her where i am at all times and i told her that i told her about it the morning before and the morning of the day that this happened so all she said was she forgot and made me still write it all. also another time we were on big island in hawaii visiting my uncle and so him and four other family members lived on the same land just in three separate houses, so i asked my gma if i could play at my cousins house because she had a lot of cool stuff, the day that we were leaving, and that was really my fault because everyone was busy packing, and i was 5 or 6 around this time so my mom helped pack for me, but my gma got fed up with me asking so she said “if you ask one more fucking time im gonna kill you” so i just kinda left the room. another time my mom got mad at me so she pushed me onto the dining room table which made me fall onto the floor hitting my chest really hard to where i couldnt breathe and she kept punching my head. one time my dad got mad at me for being in him and my moms room so he pulled out one of those hard wrapping paper rolls and started to beat my legs and arms with it and wouldnt let me leave until my mom heard me screaming so she told him to stop. my aunty continuously calls me worthless, helpless, stupid, retarded. my gma gets mad whenever i do something to anger my little sister so she defends her even, ESPECIALLY, when im in the right and lets her talk to me however she wants. my uncle tried to punch me once so i closed the door on him and now theres a hole in my door.my mom constantly threatens to take my door off. my dad knows im depressed and have anxiety but he also tells me to “toughen up”. my fucking DOCTOR whos seen me since i was a baby, told my mom that i need to see a therapist for my depression and anxiety. and she didnt take me until the day before another doctors appointment, which was three months later. and that was the only time she took me because she believes that “life is as bad as i make it” and that im “lazy, not depressed”. they constantly put me down: i tried to commit suicide twice, i have cuts all over non visible parts of my body, and i hate myself to the point where i used to starve myself for three months at a time. might just starve myself again because i really do be relapsing ha. all i want is to be away from my family and get help. but its fine because theyre just disciplining me right? lol

[veloxaraptor]

Apologies, I'm on mobile and don't really have a "read more" option. So I'm going to tag this as drama so you can black list it if I can't figure it out.

Shit's been bothering me for a couple days now and I'm struggling between feeling guilty and just wanting to break clean.

I know y'all have seen my vague personal vents the last few days, but I'm just going to go ahead and break it down, then ask for some advice.

So. I've been really close friends with someone for about 6 years now. We've game hopped together and RP'd in said games. A couple of times we shipped our characters together because we trusted each other more than the randos in games who tend to turn into creeps pretty fast when they find out you're a woman irl.

Usually we ship our characters together but sometimes we didn't. When we came over to FF, I said I didn't want to. At least not with Gan who was going to be my focus. My friend was fine with this.

I was one of the lucky folks who already had a character on Balmung before it became a congested world, he on the other hand, wasnt and had to make a character on another server while we waited a few months for world visits to be implemented. In the meantime, I was going to keep RPing and not put my character's development on hold. We'd do some discord RP and incorporate in game stuff into it so we'd still be able to play together.

And as it tends to happen in RP, Gan started to have feels for someone. Two someones, but one more than the other at the time. There was some behind the scene stuff being dealt with at the time so the characters couldn't actually be together, but that made the RP that much more enriching in the long run.

Balmung finally opens for transfers and my friend moves his character over. I introduce him to my friends IC and OOC (one of which being the love interest) and together, we work on a plot of his that we'd been building up in our discord RP.

Then things start to get a little weird. In backstory, Gan had saved his character's life a couple of times. Anyone who has had the chance to befriend her knows that just happens to be the sort of person she is. Some of his NPC'd characters made comments about how there must be feelings there, which Gan was quick enough to correct. Saying things like "He's just my best friend" and "He's like a brother to me." NPC'S make a couple more comments like that spread out through the arc, but it was always dealt with in the same fashion.

Then the character himself starts to drop hints that he has feels. So Gan pulls him aside to clarify some things. In their discussion, he tells her he can't accept what she's become, the Gan he knew was dead, and his feelings for her would pass soon enough.

Now, understandably, Gan is upset by this. Her best friend rejected her existence and told her she was more or less forgettable. She cries and leaves, is short with him when she next sees him. At this point, both I as the player and Gan as the character, make it clear that she's not upset at the potential of a romance being shattered, but for the reasons mentioned above.

Things start spiraling from there. The character gets over his hang ups about Gan, developing strong feelings for her, though she constantly rebuffs him and explains that she's in love with someone else. At this point, the character starts becoming obsessive, thinking that he can somehow win her affections if he's somehow better than the actual love interest. We then enter a cycle of him obsessing, her rebuffing, him accepting, then relapsing, starting the cycle anew. Each time in a new manner.

This continues for a few months and gets worse each time, to the point that myself and the rest of our group are uncomfortable on an OOC level. So I pull my friend aside, try to sort things out so we can all move on and enjoy ourselves again. Even going so far as to suggest a break from RP. He agrees, things get better for a week or so, and then we're right back at it to the point the character is threatening and actually tries to kill one of Gan's love interests.

Now no one really wants anything to do with him IC or OOC. At around this time, I find out I'm pregnant IRL and need to put my wellbeing first. I try to talk to him to work shit out. Again it just kind of flops.

Meanwhile, while all this is going on, my friend is going to the RL partner of one of our friends, trying to start up a side project, but demanding that this friend not tell me or the player of Gan's love interest (who this person is in an RL relationship with) because we piss him off.

I wouldn't have been upset if he wanted to do his own thing without me. I wouldn't have been upset about not knowing about it either. But to specifically demand I not be told because I was pissing him off really fucking stings. You'd think after 6 years of friendship, someone would at least TELL YOU that you're upsetting them. You know, like I did a thousand times with the creepy obsession RP I didn't ask for.

Anyways. I confront him about this in as polite a manner as I can, only to have the question half answered and given bullshit excuses. At the same time as this, he tries warning me about the activity of my ship partner, saying they're involved with some sketchy people. Later that afternoon, someone tries to pull my ship partner into some heavily meta'd RP nonsense with the people my "friend" was warning me about. Up until that point my ship partner had next to nothing to do with the person that my friend was flinging accusations about.

Friend keeps on burning bridges with the rest of our group in various ways, we all just kind of give up dealing with him and things go quiet. For like a week or so. At which point he starts going to other friends of ours IC and OOC hoping to use them to "mend" bridges on an IC level without discussing anything with the players of the characters he wants to RP with. He just kept dragging more people in when others weren't acting fast enough, all while omitting details about the situation. (ICly, whatever but OOC, at least be fucking honest.) He was planning on using a public event to achieve this, almost like he thought catching us in the middle of a bunch of people would mean things would have to go his way.

That was the last straw for pretty much all of us. I sent him a rather wordy message on discord and told him to piss off for a while.

Now if you've stuck around this long, my problem is this. I feel guilty for telling my friend to go to hell and at the same time, I want to just cut him off completely. Get rid of him from all my friends lists, cut any route of communication, everything. But I feel guilty because we've been friends forever and this all happened because I didn't want to ship with him and couldn't/wouldn't dedicate 100% of my time and attention toward him.

Thoughts? Advice? Anything?

[talix18]

November 2

I just want a word processing program. I'm not trying to be difficult. A word processing program that will estimate for me how many words I've written. Which requires a computer Operating System to run said program, preferably with an Internet connection in case there are updates to said program. The computer on which I'm typing this is an unknown number of years old. I know I got it when my ex lived with me, and he's been dead for several years.

That's a hazard of loving people in recovery, especially from drug addiction as opposed to alcoholism. The drugs out there are not those of your elders and they are nowhere near as forgiving of overdoses. My ex became my ex when he relapsed. A couple of years later he got some fentanyl with his heroin and it killed him. Drugs are bad, mmkay?

Anyway, the computer. I am...working with an OS that's 10 years old and have 6 gigs of RAM. (That's before I stuck my 2 gig thumb drive in to use as extended memory.) I'm clearly fighting hard for something to write about here. I'd rather get this done early in the day so I don't have to dread it, but writing about myself is almost as tedious as being myself.

Today is a good day, so far. I made it out the door to yoga and got my eyebrows done on the way home. Eyebrow waxing is my only consistent beauty practice. I'd like to keep up with my hair and not just put it up wet every day but let's face it – I'm stingy with my time and money and can't commit to something eight weeks from now. My hair is going gray and makes me look my actual age, which I alternately don't care about and am horrified by. Now I have extra guilt doing home color – my adopted niece graduated from Paul Mitchell hair school and would happily accept my money for getting to practice on my head, but she's located just far enough away to be inconvenient.

Plus getting out of bed is hard enough. I'll gladly take 15 extra minutes to check the Internet that will still be there when I get to work over putting on make-up and drying my hair. Is this about depression, laziness, or feminist resistance to society's expectations? I'd like to have fun with my appearance and my wardrobe but dammit – do I have to start so bless-ed early in the morning?

(This whole “early in the morning thing” is BS, by the way. I learned how quickly I can get myself showered, dressed, and out the door at my most depressed and now resist any attempt to plan further in advance.) Yes, I want to look nice in pictures but I don't want to do the work necessary to achieve that.

This is a theme in my life – there's a lot of things I want to do and be without taking any of the steps that might lead me in the correct direction. Sometimes it's a question of not knowing what those steps might be. Recovery has blessed me with the crazy notion of finding someone who has (or knows how to do) something you want (to know how to do) and ask them how they did it. I'm not sure if this is as mind-blowing to everyone as it was to me. It may be one of those things that falls into the category of “it feels like I missed some fundamental How To Be A Person class that everyone else took.”

This is a common feeling among recovering people. None of us feels like we fit in; everyone else knows something we don't; we are missing some fundamental quality that would have made life fall neatly into place. (Which brings me to the topic of the people who just needed to put the drugs down and be pointed in a productive direction vs. people who are still disasters clean. Guess which group I fall into.) Which reminds me! Last night the Internet gave me the link to an article in Oprah's magazine that describes the midlife-crisis currently hitting the women of Generation X. So this here writing project? Completely unnecessary. But I've set this challenge for myself and I love no motivation like shame and guilt. So I'll keep writing and see what I end up with.

Where was I? Oh – the things I want without wanting to do the work to get them. I've always wanted to play guitar but only enough to take a handful of lessons. My last attempt was valiant – I bought myself a beautiful guitar and showed up pretty consistently for group lessons at a friend's house. After a few months, there was pain in my strumming arm almost constantly. Especially painful were things like gripping the scoop I use to clean litter boxes, which is a thing I try to do every day. I went through physical therapy twice before the pain went away, and it's still not completely gone. My intention is to go to the adorable guitar shop where I bought my guitar (where they also give lessons) and ask someone (who knows how to do something I want to know how to do) if there is a way I should be doing it differently. That has been my intention for many months now.

What is it? What is the problem? 1. Think of a thing to do. 2. DO THE THING. That's it, right? There's not some 1.5 secret step I'm missing? There must be. Unless this is that executive function thing they talk about? There are the things I know I want to do (currently: clearing out yet more of my wardrobe so I can get rid of my TWO broken dressers [why do I have two broken dressers?] and acquire a new piece of storage for my clothing; taking my books off the bookshelves so they can be moved and I can get new flooring and also get rid of some books)(besides the regular stuff like exercise and eat foods that make me look and feel good and learn how to program and garden and oh maybe clean my damn house) and there is the crushing lack of motivation and energy.

(I'm thinking this whole NaNoWriMo thing coincided with an increase in the dosage of one of my meds which has given me a temporary “up” sensation? Like I sat through my laptop trying to repair itself so I could write rather than wandering off and doing something [or nothing] else. Honestly, me getting a thing done sooner rather than later is not a thing. I still haven't emptied the litter boxes from yesterday.)

(It occurs to me at this point to wonder if my expectations aren't set unrealistically high. Hi, my name is Teri and I was in Gifted & Talented classes and was told I had Such Potential, and have done no impressive or soul-fulfilling thing with my life. Welcome to my expectations. Not to mention this existential dread that I didn't even have words for until college when I took philosophy and learned that existentialism is a thing. This is my ONE opportunity to be alive and ultimately the only rules are those I choose to follow and This is what I've done with it? This is my life?)

(Which brings me to capitalism, specifically late-stage capitalism. I was born to the grandchildren of farmers and immigrants without the financial means to pick and choose which hobbies would distract me from my inescapable death. I watched my mother survive two divorces and [unbeknownst to myself] decided that I would be able to take care of myself. I wouldn't depend on anyone else for lodging or food or miscellaneous entertainments; I would do it myself. [This has a lot to do with why I am Single. Unmarried. Don't get too close – you may offer to take care of me and I might weaken and let you and then my guard will be down and then life will have me where it wants me.]

Late-stage capitalism. In which I, a consumer, trade my time and energy for money, which I then trade for comfort, convenience, and distraction from the awareness of my inescapable death. Knowing that, sooner or later, NONE OF THIS WILL MATTER bumps up against my desire to look younger and be attractive and matter in some absolute sense. I have a “safe” government job [thanks, Dad] with good insurance which is a Big Deal when you have a chronic condition like mental illness. I have a small home, a car that's paid for and still runs, and two cats for whom I am responsible. That there are no children is partly on purpose; partly because I never wanted to be a single mom, and partly because I didn't meet their other parent while I was young and foolish enough to consider parenting.)

Where was I? Expectations. In recovery, expectations are set-ups for resentments. Hmm. I may have to think about that. If nothing matters, expectations are silly. There are no shoulds. There Is No Way To Derive An Ought From An Is. (My favoritest of all the things I learned in philosophy.) Except that my best idea, recreational drug use, got me in legal trouble, put everyone else at risk, and (now that they know about it) makes my loved ones worry about my health and well-being. So it benefits all of us that I remain clean. And it increases the likelihood that I'll stay clean if I treat my mental illness, which requires (in this ever more dystopian hellscape) money and/or insurance. Which requires a job. Which is easier to maintain if I have a safe place to sleep and food and clothing. All of which requires effort to maintain. We haven't even mentioned recycling and volunteering and staying informed about the current state of the ever more dystopian hellscape. There are a lot of plates to keep spinning, despite the fact that eventually they are all going to shatter and it won't ultimately matter to anyone who will endure. (Existentialism is heavy.)

But haha! Daily word count achieved! Now I can get my active minutes in (exercise boosts both physical and mental health) and figure out how much time I have before I need to be where I'm supposed to be next. Because social activities and meetings make living more meaningful. Lather, rinse, repeat.

[ilovemygaydad]

Friends in Dark Places [remastered; ch 10]

pairing: moxiety and logince (later on), background eventual remile, background eventual remy/emile/deceit

WARNINGS: food mentions, eating, sex mentions, affair mentions, crude language, swearing, panic attacks, graphic depictions of self harm, suicidal ideation, abusive family members, yelling, fighting, blood, self hatred, self disgust, hurtful conversations, fear, anxiety, anger, homophobia, possibly something else

tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy

a/n: this chapter is SUPER intense, so please heed the warnings! as always, you’re free to ask for a modified chapter if you need it, but please be extra careful because none of those warnings are taken lightly!!!!

a/n 2: jsyk, it’s totally okay to ask for a modified chapter if you need it! i get it, and it’s no problem for me to quick edit a chapter or whatever :) also, feel free to send requests or questions that you have!

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 11 - chapter 12

companion fics: exes and ‘oh’s

consider buying me a coffee

-

It had taken a while, but the idea of going and conversing with the others started to warm up to Virgil. Patton had wrapped his arm around Virgil’s waist and held him close, grounding the anxious teen and giving him small bits of courage. Soon, they stood up and and ventured to the main pavilion to introduce Virgil to the other people he hadn’t met yet. There was Jo, who had a really cool cut down the middle makeup look on his face, and Joan, who did the most ridiculous impressions, and Terrence, who was the biggest ball of energy in such a small body.

For once, it was actually enjoyable for Virgil to meet new people. Years of being almost completely alone--save for a few friends here and there and his shitty ex-boyfriend--had turned him almost completely solitary. At the party, he still clung to Patton like a scared five-year-old, but he felt a little more included in the group. When Virgil began to tense up, Patton would place his hand gently on his back to provide a tether to cling on.

After two hours of eating and chatting, the party was over. Patton, Logan, and Roman offered to stay after and help clean up, but Talyn shooed the boys away, saying something about how they didn’t need any help. Virgil knew it was because they wanted him home ASAP after his panic attack, but he couldn’t bring himself mind. He was tired, and all he wanted to do was wash all of this makeup off and hopefully get most of the glitter off of his body. One day, Roman would pay for this pink glitter catastrophe, but that was a whole other train of thought.

Patton and Virgil were dropped off at their house just before midnight. Both of the boys got ready for bed, and Virgil was just this close to falling asleep when Patton softly knocked on his door.

Virgil groaned and rolled over. “Yeah, Pat? What’s up?”

The door softly clicked open, and the soft hall lights filtered in, giving Patton a light yellow glow. He entered quietly and sat on the desk chair, just barely visible in the low light.

“I, uh, just wanted to say thank you for coming to the party tonight. And also to apologize for your panic attack. I shouldn’t have let myself get swept away when you obviously needed some extra support.” Although his tone was sweet and kind, there was deep regret laced in his words.

“Oh, Pat. It’s okay. It wasn’t even your fault that we got separated.” Virgil assured, propping himself onto his elbows.

There was a beat of silence before Patton hesitantly whispered, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Virgil smiled even though it probably couldn’t be seen by Pat. “I’m sure.”

Patton nodded quickly and left, but not before giving Virgil a small thumbs up. Soon, both of the boys were asleep and the rough day was far behind them.

---

The next week passed by smoothly. Virgil had a grand total of just three panic attacks (and Patton had come to help with each one) and hadn’t relapsed a single time. He was really proud of himself, as was Patton, and he just felt better about himself. It was liberating to have actual friends to talk to and hang out with. He’d even persuaded Logan to join crew!

And then on that fateful Monday--May first, to be exact--everything came crumbling down. It seemed as if everything bad in the word just happened to fall on a Monday. That just made Mondays even more dreadful.

Virgil’s day had started off like normal. He’d woken up, gotten ready, eaten breakfast with Patton, and went off to school. It was almost ridiculously mundane. It was in second block, however, when the not-so-normal things began to happen.

“Virgil Thomas to Office A, please,” the voice on the speaker crackled.

Shit, Virgil thought. What the fuck did I do this time?

His teacher gestured at him to leave, so he did. The walk from his math classroom to the office was basically a joke, so he made his way as slowly as possible, going so far as to dawdle by the bubbler for a minute. 

As he walked up to the office, he saw his dad’s “secretary” standing at the doors. “Secretary” being used loosely, since she was, in reality, nothing more than the girl his dad had chosen to have an affair with this month.

“Hey, Virgil,” Nathalie cooed in her irritating voice. It sounded like sandpaper on ceramic plates. “Your dad is back in town and wanted me to let you know.”

“Why didn’t he just text me? He knows that I keep my phone on me at all times.” Virgil knew that he sounded bitter, but he didn’t care when his father was involved.

“He’s been very busy lately.” Yeah, probably doing you. “He hasn’t been able to find a time to take a break from work to text you.”

Work! Who knew that Nathalie could be so funny.

“Right. Well, I’m going to go back to class now, Nat. Bye!” He spun around on his heel and started to walk away when she cut him off.

“Oh, and your father wants you to have dinner with him tonight.” 

Fucking great.

“Um, I actually had plans with a friend tonight,” Virgil rushed, dancing carefully around his current living arrangements and schedule.

“Why don’t you invite them over? I’m sure your father would love to meet them!” 

Sure he would! Just like he was so fucking excited to meet Virgil’s boyfriend or any of his other friends when he’d brought them over.

“Sure. I’ll ask him.” He was never going to be able to get out of it, so he might as well try to get Patton to come along and soften the blow. Virgil walked to the bathroom instead of to his classroom, sitting in the nearest stall with his head in his hands until the bell rang.

---

“How do I look, Virge?” Patton modeled the black dress pants and blue polo get up he had on. His grey cardigan was actually on him, instead of hanging off of his shoulders or waist.

“Great! I don’t think Dad’ll have anything bad to say about that.” Virgil was ridiculously worried about his dad ripping the happy-go-lucky boy to absolute shreds. Mr. Thomas wasn’t the nicest or most accepting person on a good day, and any way that Virgil could protect his friend, he would.

“Awesome. Now, what are you wearing?” Patton’s question was innocent, but sent a small wave of anxiety through Virgil’s body.

“Uh, black jeans, some dress shoes, and a black jumper.” He’d worn this many times in front of his dad, and he hadn’t yet been ridiculed by his father for it. Unlike all of his other clothing.

Already, Virgil had wiped off all of his makeup and styled his hair out of its floppy fringe into a clean-cut look in preparation for the visit to see his dad. Any bandages that might have disrupted his appearance were removed, all scars were covered with foundation, and his whole personality purged of substance. Even his phone case had been switched out from the pretty galaxy case with the halloween Popsockets to the all black case with as much personality as a stick in the mud. It was absolutely dreadful.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll look fantastic, kiddo!”

Yeah. Sure.

---

“Alright, guys, have a good time! Just text me when you need to be picked up, Pat,” Mrs. Shea said before driving off, leaving Virgil and Patton stranded at the Thomas residence.

For once, the lights were on inside, giving the house the tiniest sense that it wasn’t vacant. Virgil couldn’t help but wonder which of his father’s chefs was cooking their meal. He hoped that it was Mei, whose food was both fancy enough to meet Mr. Thomas’ high expectations but held a sense of casualness that appealed to Virgil. 

The pair walked up to the front door and rang the bell, sending a custom chime echoing through the house. Almost instantly, a mildly-disheveled Nathalie opened the door, grinning ridiculously widely.

“Virgil! Who’s your friend, here?” She greeted with faux cheeriness.

“Uh, this is Patton. He’s a friend from school,” Virgil paused, unable to focus when he could see a white stain on Nat’s mouth. He motioned up to his lips with a small grimace. “You’ve got a little… something… on your mouth, Nathalie.”

Gross. He didn’t even want to think about what had been happening just moments before.

Nathalie wiped gently at her mouth with the back of her hand, being extra careful not to smudge her pristine red lipstick. Opening the door wider, she motioned the boys inside. Virgil led the way to the dining room, not even bothering to wait for Nathalie.

“Oh, Virgil,” Mr. Thomas said as they walked into the dining room. “I didn’t realize you’d brought someone along.” Shocking. “Is this another one of your ‘boyfriends?’”

A pinched smile spread across Virgil’s face. “No, dad. I’m not dating anyone. This is my school friend, Patton Shea.”

“Hey, Mr. Thomas. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Patton’s happy voice lightened up the room’s atmosphere just the slightest amount, which all but astounded Virgil.

“Virgil could take some fashion notes from you, Patton. He’s always wearing those stupid looking skinny jeans and t-shirts. You look quite impressive and professional for a teenager,” Mr. Thomas commented, adjusting his glasses in a Logan-like manner. That was apparently all he had to say as he took a bite of the food in front of him.

Much to Virgil’s disappointment, it wasn’t Chinese. Apparently, the first dinner you’d have with your son in literal months wouldn’t be complete without a giant French buffet--complete with dessert.

“I--Thanks?” Pat stuttered, confused by the backhanded compliment. Virgil disregarded the comment, instead choosing to lead his friend to the table. They sat close enough to his dad to be considered polite, but it was definitely farther than an appropriate familial distance.

The three ate in silence for a few minutes before Mr. Thomas spoke again. “So, Patton, what are you planning on doing after high school? Virgil said he wanted to be a graphic designer, but he’s probably going to take up the family business. Arts degrees are just a waste of time and money; better to strive to be successful on the first try and not have to go back.”

Patton stiffened almost imperceptibly. “I was planning on going to school to be a therapist, but being a stay-at-home dad seems like a pretty nice idea, too.”

“Psychology is an interesting subject; I’d have to agree.” Mr. Thomas shifted his focus to his son. “Now, Virgil, what did you say you wanted to focus on in school? Something with video making?”

“It was video game design, but I’m not going after that, anymore. It was a stupid fever dream.” None of the food on Virgil’s plate was making it to his mouth; it had merely been stirred into a gloopy mess. He already felt like shit about himself, but leave it to his dad to be make him feel even worse.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.” Virgil all but jumped up and sprinted from the room. 

Within a few seconds, he locked the door to the upstairs bathroom behind him. Virgil turned his head and stared at the reflection in the mirror. It looked nothing like him. The Virgil in the mirror was normal; he had no flaws, and he was the perfect son. His goals were steep but attainable, and he never said anything out of line. The real Virgil was anything but.

The real Virgil was a gigantic disappointment. He wanted to go into the arts, not business management. He had an attitude problem and a “screw The Man” ideology that ended up getting him into more trouble that necessary, yet he never changed his ways. The real Virgil was an emotional mess, not knowing how to properly express himself except through suicide or self harm. He was pathetic and stupid and, quite frankly, “too gay to function,” as his dad would say. There was no place in this world for the real him. Every single fucking time that his father was around, the façade was put up in some wimpy attempt to deflect some of the hateful words that would always be thrown his way.

And that’s when he broke. Tears streamed down his face, and choked sobs ran through his body. He thought he’d been getting better, but who was he kidding? This was the same old Virgil who’d attempted suicide not once--not twice. No, he’d attempted to fucking kill himself four times. But thank god that he’d survived! The world obviously needed Virgil Thomas’ fucking presence to keep it spinning.

Virgil gripped at his hair. He’d left his phone at the table, but he needed an escape from the emotions berating him.

Think, Virgil! There’s gotta be something that can help you.

His blurry eyes scanned the counter before landing on a familiar piece of metal.

Yes.

Virgil reached out and grabbed the blade, flipping it open with ease. Memories of the past flitted through his mind. Ones where he’d said “just one last time” with false hopes that it’d be true, but the very next day, he’d be back in this bathroom, washing blood out of the tub. Weakness. Had he included that on his list? Because Virgil Thomas was weak.

“Just one last time,” he mocked as the blade sliced the skin of his forearm.

Pathetic. What kind of fucking child do you have to be to continually come back to a blade to solve your problems?

Another cut. And another. It was so calming--so ridiculously relaxing to watch the red blood splatter on the perfectly white floor where it mixed with his tears to make a watercolor painting.

Faggot. Nobody will love someone who’s gay, loser! Think of Jason. He ruined you.

A knock on the door jerked Virgil out of his daze, making him drop the knife in the process.

“Hey, Virgil? Are you okay? I can hear you crying, kiddo,” Patton worried; his words filtered through the door with a slight resonance.

“I’m fine, Patton. Don’t worry.” Yeah fucking right.

“Virge, please just let me in.” There was no way that Patton would take no for an answer.

“Okay.” Virgil pulled his sleeves down harshly, smearing a bit of blood onto his hands. He stepped in front of the blade and blood, trying to hide it from Pat’s prying eyes as he opened the door. A fake smile was plastered onto Virgil’s face. “See--”

“Is that blood?” Patton gasped and snatched Virgil’s wrists up. With an unprecedented gentleness, he rolled up the jumper sleeves that had started to plaster themselves to his arms. The look of worry on Pat’s face soon turned to one of pure anger.

He’s mad. You’ve upset him, and he’s going to kick you out. Maybe he’s finally realized what a mistake it was to save you--

“How dare your dad think he can say things like that to his own son! You deserve so fucking much, Virgil--in fact, you deserve the world. Yet here’s this asshole who won’t give you a god damn break, bringing you to hurt yourself because he can’t keep his idiocy to himself! Grab that towel; we’re going downstairs.” Patton stormed out the room and down the stairs. Virgil followed a few paces behind, terrified out of his mind.

“Mr. Thomas! With all due respect--which is none, by the way--who the absolute fuck do you think you are to think that it’s okay to ridicule your own child like that?” Virgil’s dad opened his mouth to speak, but Pat cut him off. “No! You fucking listen to me; you’re a terrible father! Your child should never be brought to self harm as a coping mechanism--especially not by his own fucking father. Are you fucking kidding? Who gave you the right to do this? First, you spend all of your time away from Virgil, and then you go about barely ever talking to him, and to top it all off, you give him shit for everything that he has a fucking passion for!”

Both Virgil and his father were completely silent. Neither had expected such an outburst from the docile kid between them.

After a long few moments, Virgil said, “Let’s go, Pat.”

Virgil and Patton quickly left the house, not stopping until they were a street away. Patton called his mom to tell her to pick them up, and they sat on the curb to wait.

“Thank you, Patton. For standing up to me. Nobody’s ever done that before.” Virgil’s voice was soft and genuine. A little fluttering sensation rose in Pat’s stomach as he leaned towards his friend.

“It’s no problem, Virge.”

chapter 11

[lorelei-lux]

Panic Blogging

The first post is always pretty daunting. I’ve had three or four blogs in the past but I wound up hating them all. I know that Tumblr is kind of dying and to be honest I haven’t used it since I was a teenager but it’s familiar and hey this is just for I’m not entirely sure what it’s for.

About half an hour ago I was scrolling through Facebook, through my phone, just being a bit bored when one of those ‘memories’ things popped up. It was a photo of me and my ex boyfriend. The photo was taken about five years ago; we’re smiling and I look pretty good because back then I was thin and my hair was freshly coloured yadda yadda. This sent me into a blind panic - not because I miss him, not because I’m sad that I’m all dumpy and chunky now, but because I remember what happened maybe a few hours before the photo was taken. 

Bit of context: I started going out with this boy, we’ll call him Mickey, when I was seventeen and we were together for seven years. We went through sixth form together, university together, got our first place together and both assumed we’d get married and have kids together etc etc, happy days. I felt a kind of superiority about having been together that long, like we had it all figured out and every passing year was another achievement. Bit of a red flag already, right? 

When we met I wasn’t in a great place. I’d just moved to a new school and I’d had problems with depression, anxiety and self harm for a long time. I was quite bright at school but also experienced huge performance anxiety when it came to my academic life. I missed a lot of school, I cried a lot, I was sick almost every morning. I’d been clean for about 6 months which was the longest I’d been without hurting myself but I was getting closer to relapsing all the time. However, when I first started talking to Mickey he made me feel as if the sad, twisty, angsty side of me was deep and interesting. It set me apart from ‘all the other girls’ because even though I was blonde and buxom and generally quite cheery, inside I apparently had this edgy darkness which was very appealing to him. Mickey said this was because he too was sad, twisty and angsty. Quick tip - the romanticising of mental illness is not a good foundation for a relationship, folks. 

We fed on each other’s angst and formed our own little bubble - he said that outsiders were the enemy and we could only trust each other. It was very much like an angsty teenage film - I stopped hanging out with my friends and started hanging out with his (few) friends instead. I stopped spending as much time with my family. I just wanted to see him all the time. I thought I was madly in love. Because when you’re in love there is just so much passion, right? When you’re in love you leave everything else behind. When you’re in love you need to prove to the other person all the time just how in love you are. You fight all the time because you are so in love. You alter yourself to please them because you are so in love. You forgive them for saying the wrong thing because you’re so in love. You forgive them for keeping you up on the phone till 4 in the morning when you have an exam the next day, arguing about god knows what, because you are so in love. You forgive them for pushing you into that wall and yelling in your face because you are so in love. Right? 

For seven years I was in a toxic relationship, and in the back of my head I knew it, but with each passing year and each achievement it seemed like such a waste to throw it away. What would I do without him? I didn’t have friends anymore, I didn’t really have many hobbies that didn’t include him and I didn’t have the balls to admit to my family that they were right about him all along. All in all there had been around ten instances of physical violence or aggression. I was rarely hit, just pushed or grabbed or otherwise intimidated. See, how I said ‘just’ then? I constantly have to remind myself that there was nothing ‘just’ about it. Do other people have it much, much worse? Absolutely. And there’s a big part of me that doesn’t want to talk or complain about what I experienced because it’s a bloody walk in park compared to Mickey always made sure I didn’t feel like I could complain. If I did complain / threaten to leave / tell him this had to be the last time, we’d end up in a huge conversation that often ended with me somehow apologising. 

I would usually start a discussion very strong and determined, ready to stand my ground and set him straight. But fast forward a few hours and I would be lying in bed, head resting against his chest, and thinking to myself “Wait, how did we get here?” Arguing with him was like an out of body experience. I’m not stupid but he made me feel like a complete idiot; he could so easily twist and turn my words, manipulate my every feeling. I felt so confused, so out of my depth. I never understood how he could speak to me with such disdain and contempt, insult me in every way possible, push every button he knew I had and yet also give me a cuddle and wipe my tears a few moments later. He was the disease but he was also the cure. So after the tears and the yelling and the turning myself inside out, all I wanted was to lie down and close my eyes while he stroked my hair and told me we’d be okay. We just had some stuff to work on. He’d look after me. We were both at fault. We were both to blame. It’s okay, he'd forgive me because we were just so fucking in love. 

A few hours before that photo was taken I had been crying, hyperventilating and just hoping beyond hope that this time it would be the last time. To anyone else it looks like a nice couple photo, but I can see her dead eyes and forced smile. I can see the faint red mark on her head covered by layers of foundation and concealer. I can see her incredibly straight posture and puffed out chest, trying so unbelievably hard to look normal as her mum cheerily sang “Smile!” from behind the camera.

There’s a lot more to this but that’s why I’ve started this blog. It’s somewhere for me to unpack my brain, to comb through what was real and what wasn’t. In short, I’m here to shed some light on a very dark seven years. 

[autumnfanfiction]

17.

Chris had Robyn pinned on the floor, and they were sharing a sensual kiss. She was getting wet by the second by this alluring man that she was falling more in love with as the days went by. His hands were cruising her body, and the more his smooth hands grazed her sweet spots, the more enticed she became. She gazed intensely into his brown eyes, the color of rich soil flecked with black. She could stare into his eyes forever, especially while they were making love. There was just something about his eyes that made her want to devour him and submit to him all the same. He cupped her pussy in his hand and rubbed his slickness all over her, coating her outer lips and massaging them.

"You're so wet, Robyn." He whispered against her lips. Her hips began to subconsciously move in tiny circles as his words and touch ignited the fire of delirium he goaded with the thrusts of his dick. She wanted to come at that moment. She needed to. He had been teasing her ever since the proposal, rubbing his hands over the thin cotton underwear she wore, sticking his hand inside when they reached the elevator and were away from prying eyes. She was hot and ready for him, and she knew she wouldn't be able to withstand waiting any longer.

"I'm gonna make you cum all over the place." He put the slightest pressure against her sensitive folds, barely pressing, her hips arching into his touch. Anticipation was making her hot. Her hips shifted as he began to lubricate her gently. The pressure she felt became more and more insistent. He rimmed her over and over. A soft moan escaping her lips desperately wanting more. He pushed deeper and she clenched around him. He withdrew again, gliding deeper. Leaning forward, she thrust her hips back to give him more access and pressed her breasts against his chest. He held her head and gave her a kiss.

"Fuck... Chris... you feel so good." He licked across her lips, and she felt like her head was spinning. He slid in, giving her every inch, their position making it easy for deeper penetration. His hips nudged against hers, the wide crest of his dick massaging her overly sensitive tender spot. Robyn felt her senses overloaded with Chris' body heat and the feel of his dick rubbing inside her. She dug her nails into his back as his movements ramped up. Chris pulled back and moved his dick back inside her to the very end. While the pad of his thumb was on her pulsating clit. If he made those movements again she surely would orgasm. And he did it again. Her head fell back "Chris." Was all she could say before his name got caught in her throat. He grunted softly and started coming, his dick jerked as it pumped thick spurts of cum into her.

-

It was early in the morning, their window was open, and the crisp Autumn wind was blowing inside the room. Their legs were tangled, hand entwined. Robyn rested on his chest drawings circles on his skin. She loved tracing all his tattoos and looking at all of them. He was like a walking work of art with all the tattoos he had including the ones he got done during their first few days in Paris. They agreed upon getting several matching tattoos together, and with the new ink, it added an edgy side to his sweet nature.

"Reeses?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think it would be like to grow old together?" She folded her arms against his chest and propped her chin on it waiting on his response.

"Both of us old sitting on the porch of our dream house in rocking chairs watching our kids and grandkids. I'll be changing your diaper because I love you and make you oatmeal. You'd have saggy titties. We'd be married for like 55 years. Oh, and I'd take you out to feed the pigeons. And we'd still have lots of sex. Turn you inside out, deep dicking you at night and long stroking you again in the morning."

Robyn laughed. "Wow, Chris. I should've never shown you that video. You won though."

"What you mean?"

"Like you'll be really chubby and meaty–––" Chris gave her a side eye. "No, I won't." "Like real thick. And you'll have a hunchback, but I'll still think you look sexy. We'd slow dance at night in our living room with vinyls playing. And we'd go wheelchair racing on the weekends."

"I would not be chubby. Fuck around and put you in a wheelchair for real. Have you arch your spine and give you paralysis."

"Pssshhh I'd pop this pussy on you so good give your ass a heart attack and a stroke. Send your old ass straight to Jesus."

They both shared hearty laughs their smiles wide and radiant.

"Poor Mama. Our kids are gonna give her a headache because they take after you."

"Hey, Mama raised me right."

"With the way you are? I don't think it was Mama that raised you. I was raised, you were dragged."

"That was a good one."

"Chris?"

"Yes, Robyn?"

"What do you think our wedding will be like?"

"Anything you want it to be. All I know is when it's time for us to go, we're doing the Fusion dance to indicate that we're one."

"We're not doing that Chris."

"Why not?"

"This is not Dragon Ball Z. We are not in an anime, Chris."

"It'd be cute."

"You're not cute Chris."

"Fu-sion-ha!"

"Goodnight Chris." He laughed before kissing her lips. He buried his nose in her curls and felt at peace. There was nothing better than this, and even though they couldn't actually grow old together, it was good thinking about the possibility. At least they would have children to live on their family name––– they both discussed it, and Robyn had doubts about having kids even though she wanted them. Being there for them was important and no matter what she knew they would be.

-

The next year went by in a whirlwind. Robyn and Chris got married on New Years Day not wanting to wait longer. The ceremony was absolutely beautiful, being set on the beach of Barbados. Chris' family was in attendance and surprisingly childhood friends of Robyn's and Robyn's Father. She didn't know he was there until he surprised her when she was about to walk down the aisle. It was clear that Chris knew and he was the one who searched for him. He started when they were at the hospital with the help of Dolly, it was difficult, but he was able to track him down. He was a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, leaving Robyn's Mother because he didn't want to be a danger to her and their baby. He had battled his demons and seemed to be clean, and that's when he returned for the duration of the pregnancy. It was the night that she died after giving birth that he relapsed. Dolly decided it was best for Robyn if he stayed away and he did, but she told him he was always welcomed to come back when he got back on track. That didn't happen for 25 years, but now he was sober, clean, and healthy as ever. Robyn accepted him for open arms and was just happy he was alive. He walked her down the aisle and gave her away to Chris, and they said their vows, which brought everyone to tears.

Robyn discovered she was pregnant soon after and learned she would be giving birth to twins. 9 months later their babies came into the world healthy and happy. Their son came into the world first, at 7 pounds and they named him after Chris to start the legacy of his name to be passed down. He was a spitting image of his Father from the dimples, freckles, and brown eyes. Their daughter came next at 6 pounds and 8 ounces. Robyn asked Chris to name her and he chose the name, Genesis Clara Brown. Genesis because she was their first daughter and would be the root of their love and Clara in honor of Gran Gran Dolly. She was exactly like her Mother with the dimples coming from Chris. It was like staring at their own reflection in baby form.

Robyn was holding their son while Chris had their daughter. Robyn couldn't believe she birthed these two bundles of joy, but she was happy she got the opportunity to have children and that the man next to her was the father. Robyn cooed at their daughter before returning her attention towards their son. He was definitely Chris Jr. and the question the old woman asked her when she was in Paris rang in her head, "Would you be proud to have a son like him?" If little Chris turned out to be exactly like his Father, she knew that their daughter would be safe, and life would be a joy with him around. She looked down at him and watched as his eyes opened. She held her heart and placed a kiss on his forehead, which caused the little boy to smile slightly.

"Hi Baby, I'm your Mommy. I just want you to know that I love you, and your sister so much and loved you long before you were born. I'm going to protect both of you even when I'm not here. You remind me of your Daddy, and that means Mommy is going to have to keep the girls away," she paused seeing the sparkle in his eyes and laughed. "Okay, little troublemaker. But, I also know because you'll be like your Daddy your sister will be safe. Promise me you'll protect her and Grandma?" He just gave her a dimpled smile, and she kissed his dimple. "Chris, you have some strong competition. He's so cute, and he looks just like you."

He smiled over at his wife before looking at his son. "I know it's crazy." He brushed his hand on his twin's face and looked back over at Robyn. "Thank you, you made my life good when I met you. Made it great when you agreed to marry me. Made it amazing when we got married, and now you've made my life better by blessing me with them."

Chris didn't know he was crying until Robyn was wiping his face. He held his daughter close to his heart and cradled her head. He couldn't stop looking at her, and when she yawned and opened her eyes, he felt like he had fallen in love all over again. Her eyes were so much like her Mother's. "Hi," he said softly and waved. Genesis gave him a smile, and he felt like crying again. "I'm your Daddy. You look just like your Mommy, and that's a beautiful thing because that's what your Mommy is, but that's bad because little icky boys will be all over you and Daddy doesn't want that." Her eyes sparkled at him, and he squinted. "Don't even think about it. You'll be wearing church dresses everywhere with the old lady church fruit basket hats and coke bottle glasses to match every outfit."

She gave him a little whine in response, and Chris and Robyn laughed. "She doesn't agree with you, Daddy."

"Well she has no choice but to," he looked back at his daughter and smiled. "I'll make every moment count spending time with you and your brother. I love you, Buttercup."

"Hey, I thought that was my name."

"It might be hers now. I can call you Buttermilk since you'll be breastfeeding." Robyn stared at him in shock and Chris laughed. He heard his twin make a sound, which caused their attention to go to him. "See little Chris agrees with me."

"I have nothing to say to you Christopher, trying to corrupt my little baby."

"You know it was funny."

"I'm going back to tend to my son. Hopefully, he won't be annoying like you."

"You said yourself he's my twin just like Princess here is yours. It's inevitable that he'll be annoying even though it's clear he's a Mama's boy."

Robyn nodded. "He takes after his Father."

"You're not funny."

"Yes, I am. You're funny too, funny looking that is. That's good because that means our twins will be funny, and I won't be spending the rest of our time here fake laughing in our home."

Chris looked at her with nothing but love in his eyes. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Same thing I did to deserve you."

"Which was?"

"I don't know," she paused as they both laughed. "But hey, God must've had a plan because if we ended up with other people, they wouldn't be able to handle us."

Chris pressed his lips on hers before saying, "Well, I'm glad because I like getting handled by you."

"Chriiiiiis not in front of the babies."

"You gonna give me some more kids?"

"One more wouldn't hurt."

"I love you, Buttercup."

"I love you too Reeses."