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spine-buster · 3 months ago

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So High School ft. Adam Cole | Chapter 6

A/N: We have a 5600 word chapter here, folks...you're welcome!!!

The morning of October 5th was quiet. Violet and Austin moved around their bedroom and ensuite as they usually did, getting ready for the day ahead of them. As she always did, Violet made sure to put two hair elastics on her wrist. She helped him down the stairs before he sat at the dining table. He couldn’t have anything to eat because of the surgery, and Violet stood with him on that in solidarity. But she had to have her coffee. Coffee was her non-negotiable. She made herself a quick cup, drinking it in front of him like a tease. Austin kissed her when she finished so he could have even just a smidgen of the caffeine taste.

As they prepared to leave, Violet made sure to grab a cardigan before getting Austin’s shoes. She watched as he hobbled to put it on, refusing her help. “Can I ask you something?” she asked quietly.

“What’s that?”

“Are you nervous?”

Austin paused before shrugging and shaking his head. “A bit. He’s one of the best surgeons in the state for this so I’m not worried about him or anything. Guess I’m just worried about whether it will go well, because it sounds pretty complicated with the screws. That and the recovery. What about you?”

“I’m always nervous when you have to go into surgery and recover from something. You know that,” Violet said. “Even when you had that stupid bump in your forehead.”

Austin couldn’t help but smile at the memory. It was just a small cyst but it looked like a devil’s horn was attempting to burst through. He got made fun of for months by his buddies and the fans for that thing. “Bet you’re not as nervous as last time, though.”

Austin said it as a throwaway comment, but he was completely correct. She wasn’t as nervous this time around because, truth be told, the body part wasn’t as important. “That was your brain we were talking about,” she commented. “That was quality of life, Austin. This is different. Let’s not talk about that.”

She really didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to remember the day of the test and how hard she’d cried in secret in fear that he’d never recover and turn into a vegetable by the age of 50. She didn’t want to remember Austin crying, shaking, and vocalizing all his deepest, deepest fears during a panic attack at four in the morning after she’d already been trying to calm him down for an hour and a half. She didn’t want to remember the desperate call she’d made to Abigail, now a neurosurgeon, about what Austin was going through. She could honestly say that the day Austin re-took the test a few months later and was above where he was supposed to be was one of the best days of her life.

Austin noticed her change in tone instantly. “Hey hey…come on,” he cooed, pulling her down to sit beside him on the bench where he sat to put on his shoes. He wrapped an arm around her strongly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, keeping her tears in despite her voice. “That was just a very hard time. I don’t want to re-live it.”

“You won’t,” he moved to kiss her forehead. “I promise you.”

There was a moment of silence between them as they sat on the bench together. “You’re nervous about the recovery, eh?”

Austin nodded. “Just…you know…what happens if the bone doesn’t heal properly, or something goes wrong during physio. I don’t know. You hear all these stories all the time or you see it happen to other guys and it just gets to you.”

Violet nodded. “But you’re not like other guys. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ll be able to do it because you have more drive than anybody. No offence to your friends.”

He smiled. Having someone like Violet in his corner for eighteen years now was the biggest blessing in his life. He’d been with her now longer than he’d been without her. He squeezed her hand. “Love you to the moon, Vi. No matter how much I say I love you, I always love you more than that.”

***

December at St. Anne’s meant midterm season. Every girl in the school was anxiously studying, visiting their teachers for extra help, and clogging up the library tables with study groups. The richest girls had their laptops, but most girls obsessively went over their lecture notes from their binders, making flashcards and quizzing each other. In three weeks, it would be Christmas Break, and Violet would be enjoying hot chocolate with marshmallows by the fire with her mom and dad. In four weeks, they’d be in Whistler skiing over New Year’s. All she had to do was get through seven midterms first.

Austin and Violet hadn’t really talked about the implications of what happened after Connor’s party. They eventually woke up from the floor. Austin took a shower and Violet took an Advil. She apologized again for getting drunk and he told her it was okay. She thanked him for taking care of her and he told her it was nothing, that he wasn’t just going to dump her at the house alone. She hoped she didn’t say or do anything to embarrassing last night, she said, because she barely remembered a thing. Austin told her she hadn’t, that she was just super-giggly but then started to complain about feeling sick so that’s when he decided to bring her home.

There was a moment at her front door as they hugged before he left to go home. “Thanks again for taking care of me, Austin,” she’d said.

“I’m there whenever you need me,” he’d replied.

She watched him through the glass of her front door. When he got to the end of her driveway, she watched him standing on the sidewalk, looking up at her house and letting out a big, wistful sigh before beginning a jog down the sidewalk.

After that, it was back to the bus rides. Everything was normal.

Somehow, word had gotten around that she had shown up at a Lancaster West party as Austin Jenkins’s friend. The two schools were down the street from each other, so it was inevitable, but most of Austin’s and Violet’s close friends didn’t exactly run in the same circles, so she had no idea who was the one to tell, who was the one to spread. All she knew was that it was the hottest topic of discussion a couple of days later. While she was trying hard to study for her seven midterms, everybody else wanted to know all the gossip. Did they kiss? Did they hook up? Were they official?

“Who even is Austin Jenkins anyway?” Josephine Kominsky asked one day in the cafeteria before the warning bell.

Violet rolled her eyes. She had to have told close to fifty girls by now. Josephine was late to the party. “He’s one of my friends at Lancaster West. We live in Manheim and take the bus in every day together.”

And then, the flood began.

“I heard that he’s kissing a new girl every weekend.”

“I heard that he’s hooking up with a new girl every weekend.”

“I heard that Marianne Smith from Lancaster West was hooking up with him last year.”

“I heard one of Annie Werenski’s friends was like, you know, dealing with him for a few months last year. When I talked to her about it, she was like, ‘He’s soooooooo cute but such a sleaze.’.”

“I heard when he was on the junior football team, he made out with three different girls at the same party. He definitely gets around.”

“I heard that Amy Price called him the best hook up she’s ever had.”

“I heard that Livvy Eaton called him the best hook up she’s ever had.”

“Can we just…” Violet intervened, getting overwhelmed by everything everybody was saying around her. “Can we just not, please? He’s my friend, not just some guy we get to gossip about during school. Like, my actual friend.”

“How long have you known him?”

“How close to you does he live in Manheim? Does he live in The Berries like you? Why doesn’t he go to St. Augustine College?”

“What’s he like?”

“What’s with the hair? Lancaster West doesn’t have hair rules like we do?”

“What does he want to study?”

“What AP courses is he in?”

“Is he applying to UPenn? What about Yale? He better not take my spot at Yale.”

Harper and Abigail eyed her from across the table, and motioned for them to leave. Violet was so grateful in that moment. “I’m going to class now,” she stood up, ignoring all the girls who kept pestering her with questions. She felt like a politician who had just be involved in some huge scandal. The girls were reporters taking down every word while she was the one trying to come up with diplomatic answers that didn’t reveal too much, if at all anything. She owed it to herself and Austin not to talk about it, since she didn’t even know what it was. Why was everyone making such a big deal about her going to a party with a friend? Plus, the last thing she wanted to do was drag him deeper and deeper into the gossip mill of Catholic school girls. That was a hell exclusively reserved for boys who were sketchy, assholes, or broke their hearts.

The next day, it was still the hottest topic of conversation. During study hall in the cafeteria, a bunch of girls sat at a table together going over their AP American History notes. Beth had eyed her down from another study group’s table, and when they had a break, she eagerly came over to sit next to Violet.

“I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the party,” she began, a smile and a mischievous glint in her eye. Not like Violet would have invited her anyway. After her comments in front of Austin at the last party, Violet wouldn’t be inviting her anywhere for a very long time. “What was the party like, anyway? I’ve never been to one with just Lancaster West people.”

Violet wondered why Beth was asking. It was a house party, for God’s sake, with other teenagers there. It wasn’t so different than anything else they’d ever been to. “It was really fun actually. Really chill.”

“I bet they talked about, like, NASCAR the entire time.”

Violet furrowed her brows. “Why would they do that?”

“What else do they have to talk about? It’s either that or they escaped from their Amish colony.”

“You realize Austin and I live in the same place,” Violet said, a harshness in her tone even she wasn’t expecting. “When you say that sort of stuff about him and his friends, you say that sort of stuff about me.”

“Oh come on, you know it’s just a joke,” Beth waved her off. “Did your parents meet him?”

“No.”

“Did he kiss you at the end of the night?”

Violet hesitated. She didn’t want to kiss and tell, but she knew Beth wouldn’t let up until she knew the information. “No.”

Beth’s eyebrows rose. “Wow, really? That’s shocking.”

“Why is that shocking?”

“Because from what I hear, he kissed the last girl he brought to a party.”

Beth stood up without warning, calling out to Jane Dunfield before leaving Violet at the table to soak in what she had just said. Violet could feel her cheeks flush red, an overwhelming sense of emotion taking over her mind and body briefly. She knew she couldn’t let Beth’s words or actions get to her, and she resolved to ignore what she just said as much as possible.

___

The next day, study groups congregated in the library. Violet, Abigail, Harper, and some other girls were diligently memorizing facts about the Louisiana Purchase. Beth was fooling around at another table, texting away on her phone. Probably to Carson, she thought. Violet wasn’t happy when, in the middle of summarizing the main points of James Monroe’s negotiating tactics in France, Beth nestled her way into a seat at their table, right across from her.

“Did you girls hear about Violet’s little rendezvous with Austin Jenkins from Lancaster West?” she began, making Violet roll her eyes. By this point, it was old news. Midterms were starting in two days – didn’t she have anything better to talk about? “Wait till you hear what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, give it a rest—” Harper began, only to be cut off by other girls.

“—Did you hear the Annie Werenski thing, too?—”

“—What about what Livvy Eaton said—”

Beth nodded her head like the cat that got the cream. “I’ve heard he’s kissed almost half the girls in the junior class at Lancaster West,” Beth smirked. “He’s a good kisser, too. Knows how to use his tongue.”

“Beth,” Harper stressed.

“What?!” she demanded innocently. “Wouldn’t you consider that a compliment? I know I’d like to hear that I was a good kisser. Besides,” she shrugged her shoulders, “I also heard he’s a…how should we say…favourite with the girls.”

All the girls at the table leaned in except for Violet, Abigail, and Harper. Violet found herself feeling hot again. “What does that mean?” they all whispered one after another.

“Oh come on. You guys can’t be that innocent,” Beth played at them. “You know exactly what that means. With those baby blues? That hair? Who can blame any one of them for hooking up with him?” Beth eyed Violet for her reaction, but she was keeping the best poker face alive. “Don’t worry. He’s always got condoms. Keeps them in his wallet.”

“This is all bullshit,” Abigail was the first to speak up. “You’re talking out of your ass like you always do Beth.”

“Am not,” Beth glared at her. “Carson told me all about it. But trust me. You want a guy with a bit more experience. That way it’s not all awkward the first time he sticks it in you,” she gyrated her hips forward, making the chair loudly scratch against the floor and all the girls burst out in a fit of giggles they had to stifle quickly or else the librarian, Mrs. Foster, would shush them. “Or are you going to make him wait till marriage?”

“Shut up,” Violet sneered.

“Get back to your table. We actually want to study,” Harper said sternly.

“Never even mind,” Violet muttered, closing her giant textbook loudly and gathering her notes and flashcards quickly before standing up abruptly. “I’m going to talk to Mrs. Brooks in her office.”

___

Violet was sitting alone in the library the day before midterms began going over her AP French verb conjugations. She was speaking them out loud, quietly, to herself, while listening to French music on her iPod. Surely that would help her ace the midterm. Traditionally, the day was a skip day and girls would stay at home to study, so there weren’t a lot of girls around – no big study groups taking up every table at the library. But there were a few girls scattered around…

…and one of them was Beth.

“I come in peace,” Beth said, approaching Violet’s table. Unlike the previous days when Beth had done this, there wasn’t any mischievous smirk on her face as she sat down across from Violet, no glimmer of gossip in her eye. If anything, she seemed a lot more paired back than what Violet had experienced. Harper and Abigail must have really laid into her the day before once Violet stormed off. “You left yesterday and I didn’t get to apologize. The condom thing was inappropriate. I was just trying to be funny.”

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but Violet would have to accept it if they were going to move on. “Yeah, thanks.”

“And about Austin…” she began, treading on murky waters. “I’m sure he’s fine. I mean, if you’re friends with him it must mean something. Are we good?”

Violet didn’t want to engage. She just wanted to be left alone with le conditionnel. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Good,” Beth nodded, licking her lips slowly. There was a moment of silence between them. “I totally get why you have the hots for him, by the way. Everybody needs a bad boy in their life at least once. It’s good to get that phase over and done with now.”

Violet furrowed her brows. “He’s not a bad boy at all.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Shabby, not chic. Super rough around the edges. Wrong side of the tracks. We all need our fix before locking in the guy who’ll become the investment banker. This is totally that situation and I love that for you.”

“This is not—I—what are you on, Beth?” Violet’s whispers were getting louder, causing their librarian, Mrs. Foster, to eye them through her glasses.

“Violet. Come on. Be realistic. You have nothing in common with him besides taking the bus together every day. Your family vacations in Whistler and The Algarve. Does he even own a pair of skis? Has he ever been to Europe?—”

“—Beth—”

“—I mean, is he gonna need to get grants for university? Loans? Is he even going? Is he even, like, smart enough to go?—”

“—Beth, I swear to G—”

“—What’s your dad gonna say when you bring him home and he sees some trashy guy from Lancaster West—”

“Shut up!!!” Violet finally exploded. Her hands had crashed down on the table and she pushed her chair out from under her, the angry energy in her exploding out in every direction as she stood glaring down Beth. “God Beth do you ever just shut the hell up?!?!”

“Miss Schwarzkopf!” Mrs. Foster said sternly from behind her desk. “Vice Principal Hanley’s office right this instant!”

“But Mrs. Foster—”

“Now, Miss Schwarzkopf. Do not make me pick up the phone and make the call myself.”

When Violet looked back at Beth, there was a smug smile mixed with genuine shock on her face. Violet was almost embarrassed that Beth made her crack, but at the end of the day, Violet wanted to stand up for Austin. Beth was being pretentious, the worst thing any girl at the school could be. She failed to recognize how lucky she was to be going to St. Anne’s – maybe her parents never instilled humility in her; maybe she tuned out every time their teachers reminded them how lucky they were to be studying at one of the best schools in the state. Violet wasn’t that person, and she wasn’t going to engage with those types of people. And for her to call Austin trashy? Uncalled for, and so wrong on so many levels there could be an AP exam for it.

This was it.

___

Austin noticed something wrong on the bus home to Manheim. Violet wasn’t as talkative, wasn’t as bubbly as she usually was. This was going to be their last ride together until the New Year, too, since Violet’s mom was going to drive her to all her midterms – a nice insurance policy just in case something happened with the bus. He knew midterms for St. Anne’s were starting, but Violet never really got super stressed about her academics. He could tell something else was bothering her, but he could also tell she was wrestling with herself about whether or not to bring it up. He tried to make her laugh, tried to pique her interest in something, but her laughs were empty and her interest feigned. The entire bus ride had gone this way. Until he realized it didn’t have to be.

With only a minute to go in their commute, and with Violet already having pulled the cable to signal for her stop, he decided to speak up. “Did something happen at school today?”

She looked at him, shocked, wondering how he knew. Her father always told her she took after her Italian mother’s side of the family – she wore her heart on her sleeve – instead of his stoic German side. “Maybe,” she mumbled.

“If I get off with you, will you tell me what happened? I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like, not genuine. Something’s bothering you and it’s stopping you from being you.”

What could Violet say? They had only known each other for a few months, yet he could read her emotions automatically. It was an incredible feat. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and not making eye contact yet.

“Always.”

She finally looked at him. “Will you promise not to get mad?”

“Why would I get mad?”

She sighed. “Word got around that I went to Connor’s party with you. I obviously don’t even care about that, but this past week all the girls at school have been asking questions and talking about you. It’s literally all they talked to me about – not even midterms.”

“I don’t even know any girls at your school,” he said.

“I know, but—”

“—No no, like I mean it,” he stressed, an almost confused look on his face. “I know nobody at your school besides you. How would they even be talking about me if they don’t know me?”

Well, that eliminated around 75% of the rumours that were being said to her and shoved in her face all week. The bus pulled in to its regular stop in The Berries and they both got off. They were lucky it was a fairly mild winter day or else they’d be freezing their asses off. “Welcome to being a teenage girl at an all-girls school,” she quipped.

“What’d they say about me?” he asked as they began to walk.

“Do you really want to know?”

“If it’s bothering you this much that you want to talk to me about it, then yeah I’d like to know. That way you can at least hear from me whether the rumours are true or not.”

Violet hesitated. Was she really going to do this? If she was going to feel any sense of normalcy again, she guessed she had to. And now that the cat was out of the bag with Austin, he had to know what was being said about him too. “I—well, I guess the main things are that you’re really popular with the girls at Lancaster West…if you catch my drift,” she began. “When you were on the junior football team, you made out with three different girls at the same party. That you kissed the last girl you brought to a party like Connor’s and that you’re kissing and hooking up with new girls every weekend. You keep your condoms in your wallet.”

Austin took a moment to soak it all in. “Wow,” he almost chuckled out. St. Anne’s girls were hardcore with their gossip. “That’s…that’s a lot.”

“I didn’t believe any of it,” Violet let out quickly, feeling like she needed to establish that early in the conversation. “But I just…I want to hear it from you, I guess. We…we can be open about that sort of stuff, right?”

When Austin looked at her with his big blue eyes, she almost melted right then and there. “I don’t kiss or make out with a new girl every weekend. I’m with my dad every other weekend anyway so that’s, like, impossible. When I was on the junior football team, there was a homecoming party where I made out with one girl, not three, but because I was the new guy on the team everybody made a big deal about it. I haven’t kissed or hooked up with anyone since my ex-girlfriend last year. And I don’t keep condoms in my wallet. You can check right now if you want."

Violet was almost embarrassed for how stupid she felt. She wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t believe anything the girls had said. Why did she have to ask him and bring it up? Austin had never given her a reason to doubt anything. He’d always been so nice and incredibly kind – probably the nicest and kindest person she knew – and here she was giving those rumours even 0.00000000001% of credence. “Thank you for being honest,” her voice was small. “I hope you’re not mad at me.”

Before he realized what he was doing, Austin’s hand laid gently over her forearm. Even through three layers of fabric, they both felt the electricity. “I’m not mad, don’t worry. But can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you believe it?”

“…Because I actually know you,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I just knew you weren’t the kind of guy they were trying to make you out to be. You’re cool and nice and you’re super polite and just, like, a good guy – a decent human being, you know? The guy they were talking about…whoever it was, it wasn’t you.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Vi.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Violet knew that she had to tell him things, too. It was only fair. “For what it’s worth…I had a boyfriend last year too, from St. Augustine College. We only ever made out – actually, we broke up because I wasn’t ready to, like, go further, you know? He kept trying to pressure me and I didn’t like that. And there were guys I kissed in freshman year, like two or three of them, I think, but uh…that’s it.”

Austin didn’t like hearing that she had felt pressure from her ex-boyfriend to go further than what she was comfortable doing. He felt an overwhelming sense of wanting to punch the guy in the face, even though he had no idea who he was or what he looked like. He’d felt the same way when he was carrying her drunk and she told him some guy had spiked her drink at a party. Austin may not have been terribly book-smart, but he was definitely street-smart, and read-between-the-lines-smart, and so he knew exactly what she was telling him without actually saying it: she was still a virgin. He thought to how the nickname for St. Anne’s was the ‘Virgin Megastore’ and, well, it fit the bill with Violet. “I’m glad you broke up with him if he was pressuring you,” he said.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed about that, you know.”

“I’m not. I know that I’m not ready,” her voice was confident.

Austin nodded. Another silence between them. Violet watched him as they turned onto her street. He looked like he was struggling to find something to say. “Um, can I ask you another question?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

More internal struggle. Then, eye contact. “One of the girls that was saying all those comments. Was it…was it that Beth girl?”

Violet didn’t want to admit it. But she also didn’t want to lie to Austin, so she found herself nodding her head. “She’s being horrible,” she muttered. “Like, just totally awful.”

“She’s been texting me.”

Violet stopped dead in her tracks. The words made everything stop. “What?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how she got my number – maybe she asked through Carson, I don’t know – but she’s been doing it for the past few days.”

“What is she saying?”

“See for yourself,” he dug into his pocket to get his phone. He flipped it open and went to his messages, clicking on her name before handing it over.

this is beth from the party wassup

how did u get my #

nvm r u dealing w/ my friend violet? she’s a prude so don’t bother ignoring me? cute. u won’t be able to resist me for long. i can give u what ur looking 4. hey cutie. keep thinking about u and all the fun we can have 2gether.

stop texting me

awwww. shy? don’t be. i’m anything but shy. c 4 urself. [[IMG_48 sent]] i’ll be @ trevor’s party this weekend. will u? let’s have some fun ;) didn’t get 2 c u @ trevor’s party. this is what u missed ;) [[IMG_85 sent]] hope u ignoring me doesn’t have 2 to w/ violet she has a rep 4 giving guys blueballs. don’t want that 2 b u! all she’s talking about is how u brought her 2 that party

STOP TEXTING ME

[[IMG_92 sent]] [[IMG_93 sent]] <3 <3 hey cutie. will u be @ cory’s party this weekend? we can have some fun ;)

Violet didn’t realize her face had gone red, and she didn’t realize her eyes had welled slightly with tears as she read over the text messages and opened the pictures, only to see Beth in sexy poses with her cleavage out. In one of them she was even still in her uniform. The last texts and photos were sent this afternoon, during the time Violet was in the office of the Dean of Students for her outburst in the library. Beth had gone so far, and for what? Just to get under Violet’s skin? “Wow, she’s persistent,” she said sarcastically, her voice slightly shakier than she would have liked.

“I have to figure out how to block her number,” Austin quipped before he actually saw Violet’s face. “Oh—Oh geeze, Vi—please don’t cry—”

“—You don’t get it,” she interrupted him, slamming his phone into his chest before taking off with an angry huff and the stomping of her Ugg boots, “she’s been awful for days. I blew up at her today in the library and got in trouble and was sent to the Dean of Students—”

“—Trouble? Violet, you what?—”

“—You should hear the horrible things she’s saying about you. She was the one who said you get around a lot and that you keep condoms in your wallet for how often you do. And it makes me so angry because she doesn’t know the real you. All she sees is a cute guy with blue eyes and she gets it in her head to play these games—”

“—Vi, please—”

“—And for what? Just so she can hook up with you? She sends you pictures of her boobs one minute and then the next she’s calling you trashy—”

“Violet,” Austin said sternly, placing his hands on her shoulders. It was only then that they realized they were in front of her house anyway. “Violet, calm down. It’s nothing. It’s just mind games. It’s not like I’m gonna hook up with her.”

“I know that,” she huffed. She took a moment to recapture her breath, to calm herself and her get her tears and emotions in order. “I never thought you actually would. I just get mad when I get used as like, I don’t know, a pawn. Why does she want to hurt me?”

“That’s something you have to ask her. But nothing’s gonna happen, alright? I would never do something like that, especially after how she spoke to me at that party. But more importantly, I would never do something like that to you.”

Violet took a deep breath in, nodding her head in understanding. “I don’t like it when people talk bad about you. Because I know you,” she told him, in a much quieter and calmer voice this time. “And I know I’ve said it before, but—I trust you, Austin.”

Austin did the only thing he could think of doing, the only thing he could do in a moment like this, and that was to pull her in for a hug. Despite their coats and layers of clothing, they could both feel the heat emanating off each other because of the moment. Violet felt him squeeze her tightly. Austin got a whiff of her hair as she squeezed him back. “I know you do,” he whispered, their bodies still wrapped in each other’s. “That’s why I’d never hurt you like that. And I trust you too.”

Violet was silent as she pulled away. To hear him say that he’d never hurt her, to hear him say that he trusted her too – nobody had ever said those words to her before. Not even her stupid boyfriend from last year. And Austin wasn’t even a boyfriend. He was just her friend.

…Right?

She looked into his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. They were so unique. On anybody else they’d be their best feature, but for Austin, it was probably near the bottom of the list, only because Violet could list so many better things or qualities about him. But as she found herself staring into them, her mind and her body only wanted to do one thing.

So she did.

So he did.

In one swift movement, they leaned forward, closed their eyes, and kissed each other.

She felt him kissing her back. He didn’t just stand there and take it. He kissed her back. Once she actually realized what was happening, she pulled away. Austin was in just as much shock as she was at what they had just done.

She gulped. “Have a great Christmas Break.”

She dashed up her driveway and into her house, not looking back.

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starry-hughes · 7 months ago

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What’s the story story star

I’m so sorry you are going through this

story about my pcos journey

i was 11 years old and it was december. i was in sixth grade and at the end of the day, i wasn’t feeling well and i clearly remember laying on the bench waiting for my bus and clutching my side. i called my mom but she was in a meeting so i sucked it up and rode the bus. it was like the beginning of december.

my parents were convinced i was trying to get out of homework and play hooky from school because i hated math class that much. i wasn’t feeling well and skipped dinner and fell asleep until around midnight. i woke up in pain and my mom was actually in the room checking on me and i wasn’t throwing up or had a fever so we waited until the morning. i went to urgent care. they ruled out my appendix bursting and then did an ultrasound.

i had one cyst on kidney and two on my ovaries. they referred me to a pediatrician for the kidney cyst. went there and pediatrician said the ovary ones were more concerning so went to the gynecologist. i was put on bed rest and only went to school for like two days a week up until christmas break.

by february i was back at school but excused from gym class and wasn’t allowed to do extreme exercise. the doctors cleared me to go on a trip for a long weekend and we drove to texas. on the drive home, i started getting sick. i was sobbing in pain and we went to the emergency room. i filled like four vomit bags it was bad.

ultrasound showed that my cyst was so big it caused my fallopian tube to twist and cut off circulation to my reproductive organs. i couldn’t walk, i was thrashing in the bed. i don’t really remember how or when i got home but then i had surgery a week later. they removed both ovarian cysts and i lost 8 pounds. now i have like a five inch scar. so this all happened when i was 11, i was told i was basically infertile and they were lucky my whole ovaries weren’t removed during the surgery.

ovarian cysts are pretty normal and harmless. my doctor basically described it to me as like other people’s body’s let them get rid of the cysts like normal and harmlessly, my body doesn’t know how to remove them. so every couple of years, i get really bad cysts. i get checked for them every time i am experiencing those pains again.

my sister has the same things that go on. and the other females on my mom’s side have pcos and endometriosis.

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doberbutts · 2 years ago

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@hikko-g

Because that post is already long enough, a condensed timeline for how my doctor was able to put things together and figure out that I’m intersex:

I brought a lot of evidence that I’ve been gathering for the past 5 or 6 years and then asked her to look into it, because I found out by complete surprise after thinking maybe I had PCOS or endo that I might actually be intersex instead. How did I find that out?

I had an ovarian cyst I didn’t know about burst and the pain was so severe that my face turned a light grey color (and I’m black so that is... Not A Great Sign) and I collapsed to the floor in the middle of my shift, and it was in the right spot for my appendix to have burst, so my job immediately sent me to the ER because if your appendix ruptures you either get surgery or die. Pre-op bloodwork revealed that my appendix is Fine Actually, so they did an ultrasound and discovered one very upset ovary covered in cystic scarring [bastard] and one ovary that very much did not look like an ovary but did look like an undescended testicle sitting where an ovary should be.

Which I took directly to my mother who proceeded to tell me “oh we’ve known about that since you were born”. WELL IDK WHO “WE” IS BECAUSE I WAS VERY NOT INCLUDED IN THAT DISCUSSION

She linked me to a study on CAH- Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia- which according to her the doctor told her I very likely had when I was born, which she deliberately kept from me because she was afraid it would make me want to be a boy. That was right before I moved to this state so about 5.5ish years ago. I have been working with PCPs and OBGYNs since trying to figure this shit out and at the end of the day I was told to go to an endo armed with all of these “well have you ruled out-” and “could it have been-” dead ends.

My endo looked at the evidence I provided and the medical records ruling out the more common stuff, did a brief physical exam of my body, and went “yeah probably”, did a quick blood test, and as the results trickled in over the next week she went “yeah that’s it all right”.

The specific things she was testing for were: baseline levels of estrogens and androgens [needed for HRT anyway], cortisol levels, and special tests for the components of cortisol as well as what people with CAH make instead of cortisol that the body converts into androgens. What do you know, my estrogen levels are at or below post-menopausal despite me definitely having periods, my testosterone is juuuuuuuuuuust touching the low end for a cis man, There Is No Cortisol Here, and I have a lot of loose ends my body should be turning into cortisol but is actively choosing not to do that and to turn it into androgens instead. So, that pretty much sealed the deal.

As for my ovary vs testicle problem- that is still a mystery and honestly one that will be resolved hopefully next year when I have the damned thing removed. My OBGYN looked at the images from that ER visit and went “yeah that sure doesn’t look like an ovary” but then on her own ultrasound said that it could be deformity or even a benign tumor causing the weird shape and so without actually seeing it outside of my body it will be hard to determine either way. CAH does not inherently do this- most people with Nonclassical CAH have perfectly normal internal genitals, but a study did discover that a non-insignificant number do have some form of mixed genital presentation either externally or internally, so it’s hard to say either way.

This was not a quick process but I do have to say that it would have been slightly faster had COVID not happened, as I was all lined up to start this process mid-2020 and then March Happened. And then things kept happening and I lost my health insurance and I just got it back. So instead of taking 5 or 6 years it would have been 3 or 4. Still not a fast process tbh.

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soullikethesea · 2 years ago

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Therapy yesterday was really interesting. We ended up talking a bit about how I cope with physical and emotional symptoms.

Basically, T said that I cope with pain/physical symptoms in a special way that seems drastically different from (almost) everyone she's worked with before. That is likely why people have such a hard time understanding me properly when I try to talk about it.

Most people freak out and try to escape. I observe, sink into it, and in a lot of cases non-realize it. Eh, what? Yeah, I mean that I notice it, but it doesn't really register beyond that. So where most people would feel frustrated/angry/fearful for not being able to follow their routines, I basically "accept" it right away and pay no thought to it. In fact, I often forget that it ever happened.

Now I do want to say that, especially with the endometriosis, I've heard many stories by now that seem way more intense than mine. So maybe I also just don't have that many complaints. That said, the pain does get bad enough so that I can't talk or move anymore.

T basically said that it seems like there's not really anything for her to teach me about dealing with pain.

And it reminds me of how people generally teach you how to deal with anxiety/other emotions. Just observe. Know nothing bad is actually happening right that moment... etc. Well, I think that is actually a harmful approach for us.

When I "just observe", it becomes more traumatizing. I think that is because I don't "do" anything. It's like accepting you're completely powerless. If you at least use your breathing or thoughts to calm down, at least you're doing something. You're caring, not neglectful.

And I think that is what it comes down to... the echos of the neglect and disorganized attachment. (Oh, what a surprise...)

I remember a few things from when I was a really young child. When I got bitten by a monkey in a zoo, had many stomach aches, fell, had troubling experiences at my dad's house - in all of those instances I neglected to tell anyone, because I thought I would get into trouble if I did. With abuse and neglect it was the same way.

Then later I started noticing really scary symptoms, like losing time and finding SH the next day. Observing myself doing things without having any control over my body. People seemingly knowing me by a different name. Not recognizing things/people that I knew should be familiar faces. Senses that suddenly stopped working for a while.

I never told anyone about that either. I was terrified of the SH, but I just couldn't tell anyone. When I finally asked for help, I literally fainted in the Dr's office right after I told him.

So, maybe those experiences set me up for this. They scoffed at me in the clinic for this, but pain for me is something you notice and then can step away from. They also found it super weird that I experienced moments in which I couldn't move, AND was chill about that. There's just been so much I've had to face and accept. I mean, can you imagine being a child and having to accept that sometimes you have zero control over your body?

Or (trauma TW) having to accept that people are going to hurt and starve you and you're not going to be able to do a single thing about that?

I think it kind of makes sense that I had to develop the non-realization. It just makes it tricky to talk to anyone about mental/physical symptoms. It's like at some point I sort of gave up on myself. I guess I accepted that I had no control and that was that, and that there was no one who could help or make things better. So it becomes a dorsal response rather than fighting or seeking for help.

When I was with Bf, at some point I had the worst pain I can remember. I think I likely burst an ovarian cyst. I really should have gone to the ER and I neglected to do so. I just accepted that it was happening and thought nothing of it.

Trauma turns you into that. I think rather than observing, it's much more important for me to learn that there ARE usually things I can do to make situations better and that in a lot of situations, it IS possible to ask for help (and receive it).

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beauvibaby · 4 years ago

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tough decisions — j.oleksiak

a/n: finally another pcos fic, this is based around my symptoms with it, hopefully it’s relatable to most of you!!

warnings: pcos, anxiety, surgery and mentions of covid

“Hey, babe, I should be there in ten.” Jamie answered cheerfully, assuming you were calling to see how far out he was. “I’m sorry, J.” You mumbled, hiding back a groan at the pain tightening in your lower stomach. “I just don’t feel good tonight, could we reschedule?” You asked, letting out a small wince as you leaned against the counter. “Of course, are you ok? You sound hurt.” The concern in his voice only made you feel worse, you managed to hum in response, “oh.” He mumbled into the phone, clearly picking up your message.

You two had been dating for a little over six months, and now that he thought of it, he couldn’t recall a single time when you were on your period and miserable like this. “Did you want me to come over? I can bring you dinner?” He offered, waiting hopefully for your response, “actually that would be great.” You sighed, wanting nothing more than to take a hot shower and hope the cramps got better once you ate. “I’ll unlock the door for you, I’m going to take a shower.” You told him, adding a soft goodbye and an I love you, he repeated the sentiment, a frown etched onto his face as he stopped to get dinner.

You had just slipped on some loose fitting clothes when you heard Jamie walk in the front door of your apartment, “Y/N?” He called out, smiling when you rounded the corner in a shirt of his that you had stolen “accidentally”. He held a bouquet of flowers in front of him along with a takeout bag from your favorite restaurant, “hi pretty girl.” He murmured when you pouted at him, “I love you.” You sighed, burying your face in his chest, “I love you too.” He chuckled lightly, kissing the top of your head. “Wanna eat something? It’ll make you feel better.” He offered, getting a huff in response, he took it as a yes and walked with you wrapped up in his arms to the table. “It hurts.” You explained with a hiss as you sat down in the chair, reaching for your food, he knew it took a lot for you to admit you were in pain, “is it always this bad?” He asked with furrowed brows, taking a bite of his food as you nibbled on yours, suddenly feeling nauseous and worried eating would make it worse. “When I get it, yeah.” You told him, going on to explain the issues you struggled with, the missed cycles, heavy cycles, cramps, all of it. If you could tell him you love him, you can tell him this.

He nodded as you spoke, absorbing the information you spit out, “m’sorry baby.” He sighed, not liking having to watch you like this. You shrugged, finally forcing some of your food down, some relief coming over you as you had something in your stomach. He didn’t push you any further as he saw the look in your eyes, the way you got quiet, he cleaned up the table, leaving you with your plate as you continued to take bites here and there. “I’m going to go change.” He kissed the top of your head before walking down the hall to your room where he knew he had a pair of sweatpants stashed away.

Well he was in there, he quickly googled what you had told him, pcos was on repeat in his mind so he wouldn’t forget it as he typed it into his phone, he read as much as he could, being sure not to be gone suspiciously long.

He got the gist of it, irregularities, heavier cramps, bleeding, mood swings, particularly sad ones.

Infertility. He pushed that one to the back of his mind, he wanted kids with you and while it was early to say that, he knew you two would figure it out when the time came.

When Jamie came out you were nearly half asleep at the kitchen table, your eyes were heavy and when you looked at him he could see the blankness in them. “You can go home, Jamie, I’m probably just going to go lay down.” You sighed, standing up and clearing your spot. “No, I wanna stay with you.” He answered instantly, giving you a soft smile as spun to face him. “Really?” You couldn’t help but grin, catching him off guard, “of course.” He rolled his eyes with a smile, out stretching his arms for you. “Good, sometimes I’m scared to be alone when it hurts so much.” You whispered up to him, pecking his lips when he leaned down to you. “You know you can call me whenever, even if I’m on a roadie. I’d call you back as soon as I saw it.” He explained to you as you pulled him along towards your bedroom, you nodded as a cramp started up.

“Come here.” He demanded gently, flopping down on the bed and pulling you with him, he adjusted you so you were laying on top of him. He lightly began massaging your lower back, feeling you relax into him. “That feels good.” You hummed, blindly running a hand through his hair, knowing he loved when you did that. He smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“J?” You asked after a while, he’d stopped rubbing your back once you didn’t feel the pain anymore, “yeah?” He shifted slightly, careful not to move you too much. He turned his head to meet your eyes where you were resting on his shoulder. “I left out one thing about it.” You sighed, shuffling yourself to be sitting up more, your boyfriend nodded, although he already knew what you were going to say, he wanted to let you say it. He rested his hand in your lap for you to play with. “Go ahead baby.” He assured you, when you met his soft caring eyes you couldn’t help but get emotional. “It’s super common for pcos to cause infertility and I know we’re not there yet but you deserve to know now, and if–“ you stopped to breathe and the tears started flowing. He rushed to sit up with you, “there’s no ifs, I’m here for the long haul, ok?” He assured you, cupping your face to keep you looking at him. “I already knew that baby, I looked it up while you were eating.” He added, frowning when you cried harder. “You looked it up?” You sniffled, “that’s so sweet!” You groaned, hugging him tightly. He sighed into your hair, “I think you need some sleep.” He laughed, feeling you nod against him.

“Goodnight baby.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he laid down with you, relishing in the small smile on your lips as you finally felt at ease for the night.

***

Time had passed, and you both fell into a routine, eventually moving in together once you hit the one year mark. And that was already some time ago.

But over the last few months you both had noticed a change in your symptoms and decided to schedule an appointment with your doctor.

***

Jamie got out of his truck the second he got your text that said you were coming out, due to covid protocols put in place, he was unable to come in with you for your appointment, which made you even more on edge than you thought it would. You figured you’d done it plenty of times before, but knowing that he couldn’t come inside was terrifying.

He watched the doors of the medical center with concern as he rubbed the back of his neck, when he saw you walk out, eyes darting to find him as you shoved your mask into your purse, tears already pricking the corner of your eyes. He stepped forward, taking his weight off the side of his truck as you spotted him, “hey, hey, Y/N.” Jamie mumbled as you wrapped your arms around him in a shaky hug. He felt his heart clench as you cried into his shirt, “baby, talk to me.” He spoke gently, pushing you back enough to meet your eyes. “Surgery.” You squeaked out, you both knew it was a possible outcome, having done the watch and wait method for over a year. He listened intently as you recited nearly everything word for word that the doctor had said.

***

That was three months ago, a simple surgery that plenty of people have and it goes smoothly, turned into a three month process, between the pre op, and the scheduling, and the ultrasounds.

But now, now it was finally time for you to go in, and you were terrified and calm all at once. You weren’t scared for the anesthesia, or for the actual removal of the cysts, you were worried that something would go wrong and they’d have to remove your entire ovary, granted that would still leave you with one, but that didn’t make it any less disheartening.

The doctors had come and made their rounds, each one going over everything with you, over the statistics and the possible complications, only furthering your anxiety. When your gynecologist came in, dressed in her scrubs and ready to have you wheeled off to the operating room, she could see the way you were panicking and squeezing Jamie’s hand tightly. “I know she’s going to be put to sleep, but is there something she can have to take the edge off?” Jamie asked as you looked over with a pleading face. “Yes, of course.” She came over and rested a hand on your shoulder, “you’re going to do great.” She assured you, giving Jamie a reassuring smile as well. The second she left the room you burst into tears, “no baby.” He gave you a soft smile, pulling his mask down to kiss your forehead, “it’s going to be ok, no matter what happens. You’re so tough.” He wiped under your eyes, looking over as the anesthesiologist came in, along with a nurse, “I’m going to give you something to take the edge off, you should feel it pretty quickly alright?” He explained, waiting until you agreed to connect it to your IV.

Jamie watched as you took a couple of deep breaths before looking at him with a much calmer face, he held in a chuckle, “you feeling it baby?” He asked you, giving you one last hand squeeze, you nodded lazily. “Yeah.” You answered, already feeling sleepy, he couldn’t help but smile at how girlish it was making you act, “alright, I love you.” He reminded you with one more kiss to the forehead as they popped the brakes off the bed, “I love you.” You repeated as you stared up at the ceiling, he could tell you had a kind of blank face under your mask. He was just glad to see you not freaking out, as he felt the anxiety transfer to him as they rolled you away, leaving him in the empty room to wait for you.

It felt like an eternity to him, as he knew the surgery was only supposed to take thirty or so minutes, but he also knew they wouldn’t tell him anything until you were already waking up in recovery.

That was nearly three hours later, and he literally jumped to his feet when the doctor came in. She assured him everything went as good as she expected, it was just more difficult to get too, nothing went wrong and you were coming out any moment. He thanked her repeatedly as he felt his heart rate settle, after staring at a wall for so long, he turned to Google and that only worsened his anxiety on why it was taking so long.

When they finally brought you in, you still hadn’t seen the doctor because you had been so out of it, so you instantly looked at him with wide eyes, more awake now. “You did good, baby, don’t worry.” He assured you, standing beside the bed once they locked it in place, the nurse smiled as she charted everything on the computer beside you. “Are you Jamie?” She asked with a giggle, making your face heat up under your mask, “yes.” He answered, not tearing his eyes off you as he could see the puffiness in them from your breakdown earlier. He laced his hand with yours, rubbing it reassuringly as you sighed in relief. “She was asking for you before she could even keep her eyes open.” The nurse told him, earning a soft chuckle from his mouth. “Sounds like her.” He hummed in agreement, tuning into the nurses words as she started telling you what you needed to do before they would let you go, both of them surprised when you did them instantly, the doctor signing off on your release as you seemed more than fit to go home in the care of Jamie.

He was more than attentive to your every need, almost to the point where you got annoyed, but you knew he meant well so you let him do whatever he thought you needed.

You were extremely grateful to have him here with you, knowing that just because you’d gotten it fixed this one time, doesn’t mean it won’t come back. He didn’t let you think like that for long as he brought you back to the present with a gentle kiss to your temple as you leaned on his chest. “S’proud of you.” He mumbled, even though you didn’t do anything, he knew it took a lot for you to make the decision to do this. You didn’t have to answer as you curled further into him, a silent thank you for everything.

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo

#Jamie Oleksiak #Jamie Oleksiak imagine #Jamie Oleksiak fic #imagine #imagines #big rig #nhl

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86-was-his-year · 5 years ago

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I’m Not Letting You Go| E.W. (Spoilers for Part 2!!)

Summary: You won’t Ellie go on this mission by herself even if everyone else tells you no.

Warnings: Mentions of Death (Spoilers), Swearing, PTSD mentions, Ellie being mad but being cute at the same time, little nsfw (oops) a lot of angst like no joke

A/N: I loved The Last of Us Part 2 (Most of it anyway) and I wanted to show more love to Ellie cause nobody writes about her and I need it for my bi-sexual ass.

The snow gathered thickly around the edge of the small mansion that we followed the horse tracks to. Shimmer was wandering around the area aimlessly and I knew Ellie was still here, Shimmer would never leave without her. They’ve bonded over these couple of years and I know Ellie would be upset if anything happened to her.

“Guys, I found Shimmer! Search the fence for a way in!” I yelled to Jesse and Dina while looking around the area to see if there were any openings on the bottom of the fence. A pile of bodies were around the beginning of the fence and I didn’t doubt that was the expert work of either Tommy or Joel. Maybe they got caught in the storm and had to find a way to keep themselves from freezing to death.

I followed the faint tracks and it led to a little opening in the fence. Maybe Ellie took this way and had the same idea. Maybe she was warming up by the fire with Joel and Tommy while they just waited out the storm. I know that Joel and Ellie haven’t been in the best of places but I also know that she was trying to forgive him. I kept thinking back to the day at the hospital.

I was waiting for my surgery and he burst open the door in front of me. He looked me up and down and saw the large bite and cysts on my ankle, just under my blue hospital gown.

“Please take me with you. Please I don’t want to die.” He looked at me and nodded.

“Do you know how to get out of this damn place?” We wondered through the halls and checked every room. The alarms began to get louder and louder, they were alerting everyone that we were escaping. I didn’t want to go back, I over heard them talking and they were going to kill her and me just because we didn’t turn. The world didn’t deserve our help, the world deserves to burn.

“You have to take a left here and then a right. There’s an elevator at the end of the hall and it leads to a parking garage on the bottom floor we can get a car and get the fuck outta here.”

It wasn’t hard to get to the garage but it was hard to see Marlene standing there with a gun pointed at Joel. I shimmied myself behind him and gripped onto his shirt. I watched and listened as Marlene tried to convince Joel to let us go. She was explaining the logistics of taking two young girls on a trip across the country as if she knew where we were going.

I saw the handle of his gun glint off the light and it sparked something in me that I had never felt before. I wanted to protect Joel and Ellie, there was only a matter of time before the rest of the fireflies alive would come after us and all of this would be for nothing. The handle was cold in my hand I took three quick steps to the right and shot straight at Marlene. She fell to the ground as she started groaning in pain.

“Get to the car now.” He jogged to this truck and opened the back door urging me in before stuffing Ellie in along with me. “I’ll be back.” He slammed the door and walked over to Marlene. I put Ellie's head on my lap and began to stroke her hair. I jumped in my seat as I heard a single gunshot and I knew this would be all in the past.

“Ellie!” The back door was open and the blinds were rustling uncontrollably. The snow crunched behind me and I drew my gun turning around way too fast for my brains liking. Dina and Jesse were standing there with their hands up and I turned back around without any regard for them. I needed to find them and make sure they were okay. Part of me had this silent dread built inside, they would never leave the door open like that.

“Ellie!” I took off immediately, searching every room and every closet that I could see, I had to find them. Dina and Jesse were going back to check if I missed anything in my haste to find them. My search was turning up empty all the closets were empty and all the rooms were turning up blank, they were no where to be seen. I walked into the kitchen, the last room that needed to be checked and found an open door. I looked down and immediately ran down the steps. I flung the door open and took in the sight before me.

“Oh my God.” I looked down at the lifeless body by the blood splattered window. I watched Joel leave in those clothes this morning. Ellie was at my feet knocked out cold with blood running down her face, she was here. Did they make her watch as they killed her or did she get here and attempt to fight back after the fact?

“T-They’re down here!” I slid down to my knees and dropped my gun to the side. Ellie was shifting around and groaning in pain. Her face was banged up but her nose wasn’t crooked so that meant it wasn’t broken, at least from my slim amount of doctor knowledge. As Ellie shifted herself awake I grabbed her head and brought it into my lap, I knew this was going to be a shit storm when she woke up so I wanted to comfort her while I could.

“Fuck!” Jesse walked down the stairs and went to check his body, there was blood all over the window and his coat wasn’t moving up and down with soft methodical breaths. It was the one notion that would tell us that he was alive and it gave us no sign. I could feel my chest tighten up as I en-graved the image of Joel into my brain. All the times that he helped me overcome something, all the times he spent cracking jokes with Ellie and me when we had bad dreams, It all was ruined in this moment. I would never get to see him again.

“No.” I looked down to see Ellie turning her head to look at Joel.

“Ellie don’t look.” I pulled her face away and made her look at me.

“I had to see it. I could’ve done something.” Her tears ran down her face and I felt my heart clench in my chest. I sat her up and held her to my chest rocking her back and forth as I let myself sob over my loss.

I held his shirt between my fingers, the warmth was leaving it but the smell was everything I needed. It was the last thing he wore before that day, he had coffee in this shirt, he played guitar for me in this shirt, and I couldn’t help but think that I’ll never have those moments with him again. I’ve stayed in his bed this past week, I’ve only moved to take a shower and eat a little bit of food.

People have been knocking on the door trying to give me casseroles and get well soon cards but I didn’t need their sympathy, it won’t make me get back what I’ve lost. Ellie hasn’t come by yet and I really don’t want to see her face right now, I’ve spent so much time watching her and Joel bond every time she would crack a little joke she would try to include me. I took a whiff of his coat and let out a sob, my heart was clenching and my chest was tightening in on me, Its felt like I couldn’t breathe these last few days and it won’t go away.

The door rattled and my eyes shot open, I didn’t want to see anyone right now. Maybe it was Maria coming to see if I would clear his stuff out and move away, or maybe it was Tommy trying to get any info that could lead him to the killers. He said one of them was Abby and they were from the Washington Liberation Front but I couldn’t care right now. The steps up the stairs were rhythmic and soft, but I couldn’t rule out that they were going to kill me, like they did to Joel.

I grabbed the gun form under my pillow and shot up out of bed only to see Ellie looking at me and the look on her face utterly and completely destroyed me. The tears ran down my face harder and I could see the war going on between her eyes. I lowered the gun and put it back under my pillow before turning over and gripping onto the shirt again.

“You know he used to lay with me when I had bad dreams?” My eyes were hot and puffy from crying, my nose was clogged with snot, my cheeks were wet and sticky, and my throat was hoarse from screaming into nothing. I couldn’t stop crying it was like my body was just acting on its own and I couldn’t pull back the tears or the sobs anymore.

“He would, wouldn’t he?” She walked closer and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hand rested on my ankle and I felt myself flinch back, she knew about my bite mark long ago but it never stopped me from trying to hide it. Her fingers brushed the edge of my leggings away and rubbed the raised area of my bite.

“Yeah, when I would scream at night he would be there as soon as I woke up. His pajamas were always so cute, little blue pajama pants and a graphic t-shirt. I would dream about us dying.” I pulled the shirt closer to me and listened to the sound of Ellie breathing.

“I remember when we found those. We got it for his birthday right? Not exactly designer but it was something.” She took her hand away and my heart dropped as she broke contact. I thought she was going to leave me to just cry my eyes out. I would like to think she would have come earlier but I didn’t tell anyone I was here so I doubt she knew.

“You know you could’ve told me where you were.” She crawled up on the bed and made her way over to me. She really is able to read my mind sometimes, even if I din’t like it. I moved the shirt and let her lay down next to me, the bed springs squeaking with age.

“I’m surprised he even made his bed.” I ran my hands across the now ruffled sheets and smiled.

“I know a hardened survivor and he does house chores.” She put her hand next to mine and we just stayed there.

“He wanted to do right by you. He didn’t mean to lie but he wasn’t wrong.” I ran my hand down her arm and across her chemical burn. She did it when first got here God, the smell was in her room for weeks. Burning skin and chemicals mixed horribly and I can just remember Joel’s face when he walked in to her screaming.

“I know. I just wish you guys would have told me sooner.”

“Ellie!” The jolting of the horse wavered my voice as it ricocheted off the tall buildings. We knew where she would go, it’s where she always talked about going back and finding out the truth about what happened to us.

“There she is!” Joel urged his horse into a gallop and I followed him closely. Shimmer was standing next to Ellie as she looked through her bag. “Stay here, kiddo.” He hopped off his horse and I let them talk. I could hear her crying as she gripped her chest. Of course she was hurt I mean I would be too, if I didn’t know the truth.

She refused to talk to me for weeks but we grew up together and of course I knew how to make her talk. I brought her new music and a bunch of new movies which I totally almost got my face ripped off for. She laid her head on my shoulder and ranted about how she felt and it was good. She finally opened up to me and I felt how she felt.

“You knew the whole time? Why didn’t you just tell me?” She took her head off of my shoulder and turned on the couch. The pain in her eyes was real but there was something different swirling in those beautiful emeralds.

“I wanted you to trust Joel. He lied to protect you. He knew that if he told you the truth he wouldn’t have you anymore and I know how much that tears him up. He loves you, Ellie.” I put my hand on her arm and watch her process this.

“Jesus, you sound so grown up.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. She chuckled and looked back at me.

“You Missy, should know more about anyone else about growing up way too fast.” I poked her should and she fell back on the couch.

“Oh yeah?” She got back up and flung herself onto me. It knocked me off balance and I fell back, pulling both of us down to the floor. I landed on top of her and started laughing.

“Oh shit, still got the upper hand!” She grabbed my arm and pushed me over. She brought my arms above my head and pinned them there.

“Now who’s got the upper hand hm?” She brought one of her hands down to my face and traced my features.

“Looks like I’m your prisoner.” I tried wiggling out of her grasp and found that I really couldn’t. “What are you gonna do to me?” There was a taunt to my voice and a smile stretched across her face. My heart was racing too fast to be normal, not normal with Ellie though. Sometimes I would look at Jesse and get these butterflies but only with him. I mean that fucker was way too handsome for his own good.

“I had a couple of ideas.” She shrugged the best she could with one shoulder and brought her thumb to run across my bottom lip. It was something that I never thought I would experience not with Ellie at least. She slowly leaned forward and planted her lips on mine. I’ve had my first kiss already so it wasn’t a new feeling to me. This kid I knew back in a QZ liked me and I liked him so we kissed and then he said I had cooties so that was that.

This kiss was something different, not only because Ellie knew what she was doing but because there was something actually there. Her lips were wet with spit, hers or mine I really couldn’t tell but it didn't matter we locked our lips together and it feels like neither of us wanted to go. It wasn’t fast or rushed we were just intertwined, we took our time and never really wanted to leave. But alas we need air to breathe so she pulled away and leaned against my forehead.

“I think your sentence has been carried out dutifully and therefore, I’m letting you out on good behavior. She let go of my wrist but pulled me up with her. I could feel my lips and they were swollen, I can’t imagine what they look like though. My heart was still racing and the butterflies were still knocking around in my sternum.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” This time I leaned my head on her shoulder and we just rested there watching the movies last seconds. The hero spares the villain and lets him go with the promise of never returning.

“The jury’s still out on that one but I’ll get back to you.”

“Whatcha thinking about?” Ellie pulled me away from my fantasies and I smiled. I sat up and quickly rolled on top of her, grabbing her hands and putting them into the pillows that Joel so carefully made.

“Got the upper hand now didn’t I?” I cocked an eyebrow at her and watched as her eyes swirled with amusement.

“Are you threatening an officer miss?” She put on her best cop voice and put her head to the side.

“And if I am?” I leaned closer and closer with each word. I could feel her hot breath on my cheek and I bit the corner of my lip.

“I guess I’ll,” She grunted with effort but easily turned me over, “have to take you prisoner.” She was straddling me now and I felt all those feelings come back for the first time in years. I never forgot about them, no, but I let them go only because I wanted Ellie to have someone else. Someone better than me.

“Officer please!” I mocked the ladies in the old horror movies and put on my best damsel in distress voice.

“Can’t get out of this one that easy, sugar.” It’s embarrassing to say but I felt arousal pool on the inside of my underwear. Hearing her call me a pet name was all I needed to finally lean up and try to connect my lips with hers. She leaned back and smirked a bit before slowly leaning down.

I finally had what I was missing all these years, her lips on mine once again. The rush in my stomach all came back at once and I let out a tiny whine as I tried to move my arms. She pulled away and looked down at me, shock turning to wonder and then smugness.

“You got a cute set of pipes on you. Let’s hear you use them.” She whispered the last part in my ear and I let out a big breath. This girl was going to torture me, all I wanted was to feel her lips on mine again and she was trying to take detours.

“Ellie? Are you in here?” She shot up in alarm before relaxing.

“Coming Maria!” She looked at me and scrunched her nose. “We aren’t finished yet.” She pointed between the two of us and fixed her hair.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Officer.” I blew a kiss and watched as she rolled her eyes before leaving. I sighed and turned over to find the shirt no where to be found. I could feel my calming heart pick up it’s pace again. I threw myself off the bed and found that it wasn’t under me. I searched under the pillows and under the bed sheets.

“No, no, no!” I frantically looked at the foot of the bed and finally dropped to my knees in defeat.Tears welled in my eyes and that made it even harder to see while I searched for the prized possession. I felt my hands around the ground and a piece of fabric ran under my fingers. I snatched it and brought it close to me, looking at it and then smelling it. It was his alright.

“Y/N?” Ellie was in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, her stance meaning she was closing off again. Once I looked up at her and she saw the tears rolling down my cheeks and the shirt wrinkled between my fingers she dropped her arms and came to me. “Come on, get on up.” She gently grabbed my arms and got me off the floor, sitting me on the manhandled bed sheets.

“I thought I lost it.” I leaned my head into her chest and sobbed. I couldn’t hold back anymore, I needed him here not in the ground.

“I know kid, I know.”

We slept there, in his bed. It felt just normal to sleep with her by my side but I kept dreaming about him. Seeing his blood all over the window and on the ground. I kept imaging his final moments, did he say his last words to Ellie? Did he say that he loved her like he always wanted to? He talked about the way that he would do it but I guess he never really got around to telling her.

I heard him pleading in my mind. He was begging me to help him, yelling in pain as they hit in with the golf club. Ellie told me that’s what they used but she really didn’t want to talk about it anymore so I didn’t make her. I was in the room as a ghost the faceless people talking to Joel about who knows what. I couldn’t see their faces or hear their voices but I watched them hit him endlessly and brutally.

My eyes opened and tears were already piling up onto my pillow. I guess I was crying in my sleep, wouldn’t put it past me. The bed was cold behind me and I shot up, looking around the dark room for where Ellie went. She was sitting on the chest by the end of the bed while putting her shoes on.

“Ellie?” She jumped at the sound of my voice but looked back at me. Her demeanor seemed angry or distraught.

“What are you doing up?” She pulled her pant leg down and stood up. She had the same clothes that she had on yesterday which wasn’t a surprise. We didn’t get to go home and change and I really didn’t want to leave.

“I had a bad dream, where are you going?” I sat up and took the blanket off of my body. The leggings I wore were becoming sweaty and twisted around my legs but I dealt with it and picked up my shoes from the edge of the bed.

“Nowhere, you can lay back down Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.” She got up and moved towards the edge of the bed to sit down next to me.

“Why do I feel like I won’t?” I laced up my boots and looked at her, “You’re going after them aren’t you?” I stood up and went to Joel’s closet picking out a random shit before throwing it on over my tank top. I looked around the closet to see if there was anything else that I could use. His backpack was just sitting there no use for it so I took it over my shoulder and walked towards Ellie.

“You shouldn’t come. I don’t want you hurt.” She put her hand on my cheek and looked into my eyes.

“This is my fight just as much as it is yours. I’m coming with you Ellie.” I held her wrist and leaned my head against her hand.

“Alright. Maria said I can leave on Shimmer but I guess I could spare some room than bring you along. For Joel.” She pulled me closer and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

“For Joel.”

#Ellie Williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #Joel Miller #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part 2 spoilers

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booitislife · 4 years ago

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Let’s Talk About Periods

My period is horrible. I have heard people who don’t get periods say: “It can’t be that bad.” Yes, yes it can. Some studies suggest that cramps can be a worse pain for women than a heart attack. My period technically starts a few days before bleeding. I get a period flu. A period flu is a few days of unexplained illness and flu-like symptoms (low grade fever, chills, etc) a few days before your period starts. I didn’t used to get this, but my body decided I needed this. The first time I got it, my doctor put me on antibiotics thinking I had a sinus infection. (She is proactive about fevers because I am a transplant patient).

My minor symptoms are bloating, diarrhea, lethargy, sometimes headaches, I get irritable, my breasts hurt for a few days, and some other lesser inconveniences. However - my biggest two issues? Pain and bleeding.

Bleeding - I bleed for eight to ten days every month. Usually the first one and last two of the cycle are light. I tend to have one or two very heavy days, depending on the month, and when I say heavy - I mean clots. Lots of them. I will soak through a ten hour pad in less than two hours. I have lost so many pairs of underwear. I now have “period underwear” that is darker or just old so I don’t care if it gets stained. The rest of the days are moderate.

Pain - This is the worst part of my period. I start cramping on day one and I usually don’t stop until the second to last day of my period. When I say it’s bad - I mean excruciating. I was once taken to the hospital by my mom because I couldn’t breathe right during cramps. The doctors rushed me in, thinking I was having a miscarriage, a burst cyst, or maybe appendicitis. They did lab work and ultrasounds. While I was waiting they gave me fentanyl, which is 80-100x stronger than morphine. I could still feel the pain. It dulled it, but didn’t negate it. The doctor came back in shock - there was nothing wrong. No miscarriage, no cysts, and my appendix looked great. These were just the cramps I was going to have to live with. I was given pain meds for every month - 20 - to deal with that I’m going through.

I have a few period journal entries that I would like to post. If you don’t want to read, please scroll down past the blue writing. Sadly, these are only four of dozens of examples.

September 17, 2020 - Day 5 of my period.

Woke up with horrible cramps that were so bad I was shaking. Slept on the couch again because I was tossing and turning so much from the pain. Didn’t fall asleep until nearly 4. Passed a clot which, usually by day 5, will alleviate some of the pain, but it didn’t. The exhaustion took over and I fell asleep until about 11:30, but when I woke up I was so tired I could barely move.

November 16, 2020 - Day 4 of my period.

I could not sleep last night. The pain is intense and comes in waves. The bleeding started to get heavy a little after 7AM. It’s a little after 8:30 when I’m writing this and I have passed 2 large clots and probably 5-6 smaller ones. I soaked through 1 pad already. I’m going back to bed and hopefully sleep for a few hours. Woke up with horrible cramps. Haven’t been able to get out of bed. Managed to get some food down to take my antibiotic, but that’s it. I am exhausted and the pain is radiating to my knees.

February 9, 2021 - Day 3 of my period.

I finally fell asleep around three, but I woke up a little after five with searing cramps. They went down my legs and around my back. I could barely think straight. I took meds, tried meditation, used a heating pad. Nothing helped, I finally passed a big clot and the pain subsided. I moved to the couch and was almost asleep when the pain started again around 9. I did everything the same - meds, meditation, heat. I’m going to try to get some more sleep.

April 14, 2021 - Day 2 of my period.

Having trouble getting to sleep. After taking pain meds and using pain cream on my back, the pain is just getting worse. I almost fell asleep, but woke up in pain. It’s 1:30 AM, and I am heading downstairs to lay on the couch with my heating pad. I can’t get comfortable and the pain is getting worse. It’s 5AM. I still can’t sleep. The pain is very bad. I just want to sleep through it and I can’t. Couldn’t sleep. The pain has somehow gotten worse over the afternoon. As of right now, I have pain meds in my system, pain cream on my back and abdomen, I took a very hot bath, and I am now laying with a heating pad. I am still in searing pain. I can’t do this much longer. I burst into tears a few minutes ago. Why won’t someone help me?

I have asked doctors, so many times, to have a hysterectomy. At first I was told I was too young. Then? I was told my husband would need to sign off on such a procedure. My husband was more than ready. If anything, he was just overtly appalled that he would have to do that, or that any doctor worth there degree would ask that. He asked what it would take for him to get a vasectomy. They said just call a urologist. “Would she have to sign off?” He asked indicating me, and when he was told no he said: “This is a ridiculous double standard. booitislife can make her own choices.”

I have seen 6 OBGYN’s in the last 8 years. The first told me I was too young. She offered a procedure called an Endometrial ablation. It does greatly reduce the bleeding issues. However, I wasn’t really worried about the bleeding - I was worried about the pain. She told me it wouldn’t really do anything for the pain, so I said no. I have to be careful with my transplanted kidney and any kind of anesthesia can be dangerous.

The second OBGYN was a man in the same office who was also conducting a cervical biopsy on me. I’ll never forgot the intense flash of pain and how I nearly yelled, but I did start to cry. According to my husband there was blood spray on the floor as the doctor looked up at me and said in a condescending voice - “That doesn’t hurt! Come on!” And then he laughed. He wouldn’t even discuss a hysterectomy. From that biopsy I learned I have pre-cancer on my cervix and underwent a LEEP procedure. They use a hoop wire heated by electric current to scrape off the parts that could become dangerous.

The third was about a half an hour away at a bigger hospital. He was the guy who did an endometrial biopsy on me. Different than the cervical biopsy, this was just a precaution after something looked off. He wasn’t as condescending as the others, and that biopsy came back normal. However, he wouldn’t do the hysterectomy either. He said I should go to a doctor in a hospital that has a transplant team - seemed reasonable.

Between the 3rd and 4th doctores I had been doing my research. I went to my nephrologist that was keeping track of my transplanted kidney, and told him about my struggles. He said he saw no issue with me getting a hysterectomy and, in fact, I should. He even confirmed with the current head of transplant from the hospital I had my transplant surgery in. So, I was off - feeling more confident. This new OBGYN was a doctor at my transplant hospital.

The fourth OBGYN - or as I call him “The Biggest Mother Fucker I had the displeasure to meet”. He dismissed a lot of my concerns quickly, and talked to me as if I didn’t know anything. Then, he asked if I wanted to try an IUD. Now, I have nothing against anyone who gets an IUD. If that is for you, and it’s working - awesome. I know my brain. I know my brain would focus on everything bad an IUD could do. I politely explained this to my doctor. This wasn’t an option for me. My panic would go crazy. He wrote some things down and told me he wanted to to a procedure just to check for any cancer cells that could be hiding, but (and oh yes, there was a big but) he would only do the procedure if I signed yes to getting a Mirana IUD. I had to sign a consent form before he would even schedule the procedure. So, I did. Then I canceled my procedure and never went to see him again. Oh, also, this asshole handed me pro-life pamphlets on my way out.

The fifth OBGYN - more trusting, no results. At this point I was exhausted. I was tired of trying and being let down, fighting to get an appointment. This OBGYN was a woman and she worked in the same office as the second guy I went to. I laid it all out for her. I told her what the previous doctor did. I told her about the pain, about not being able to barely move. I poured out my heart and soul to her. She empathized, then told me she did not feel comfortable doing my hysterectomy. Because the uterus is close to the transplanted kidney, she thought I needed a specialist. A type of doctor called an OBGYN oncologist. As luck would have it, there was one on staff at my transplant hospital. I waited and waited for an appointment. I waited for over a year. Finally they called and said they were just too booked. They had one doctor who did it, and it was most dire cases first. I understand that. So, I wasn’t angry or frustrated this time. The office at the hospital asked me if I would like to see another OBGYN on staff. I said as long as it wasn’t OBGYN Biggest Mother Fucker I had the Displeasure to Meet. I asked if it could be a woman and we set it up.

Okay, the last one for now. The OBGYN they set me up with was a resident. She seemed nice at first. We sat and talked about my pain, the exhaustion. She wanted to talk birth control options. Great. Her advice to me was to stay away from the shot and the implant. She agreed about the IUD not being right for me. So, she said she wanted me to start talking the pill. I stopped her. I had been on the pill twice. Once when I was 16, another time when I was 24. Two different kinds. Both times I had side effects. The most prominent was this intense stomach cramp. I would get headaches, nausea, extreme weight gain. I couldn’t live my life. I told this doctor that and she didn’t even look at me in the eye when she said...... “Well, I won’t even consider a hysterectomy until you’re on six full months of birth control.” It didn’t matter what other symptoms I had. It didn’t matter what I was and wasn’t comfortable with, not really. So, here I am, looking for lucky number 7 when it comes to OBGYN’s.

As I sit here tonight, losing a lot of blood through clots, being so tired I can’t think, but in too much pain to sleep. I found myself so angry. About an hour before I started writing this I had a pretty big panic attack. I haven’t had one of those in a long time. But - Tuesday night I slept for three hours. Last night I slept about five. Tonight it is almost 3 AM and I’m still awake. The pain is exhausting, but also keeps me awake. It also makes me tense. So, parts of my body started tingling. Instead of my logical side taking over and saying, “Yeah, you have been clenching for four days. You’re gonna feel odd things.” I convinced myself I was dying and had to take medicine. I am so tired on a deep level. I don’t want to have to go through this anymore, and I don’t know if that makes me sound selfish... I just.., I DON’T WANT TO GO THROUGH THIS ANYMORE.

So, here we are. If you experience cramps like I do, I am so truly sorry. You don’t deserve them, and if I could do something to help you - I would in a heartbeat. People should not have to live like this. Doctors should listen to us and hear when we say that something like this is, genuinely, detrimental to our lives. If we want permanent birth control whether it be our tubes tied, an ablation, or a hysterectomy - it’s our body. We should decide what we can do with it. Please don’t stop fighting. Please don’t stop advocating for yourself. If you ever need to talk, I’m here. Have a good night, anyone who reads this. Thank you for reading this long-winded rant. Take care of yourself.

#periods #period cramps #personal #period help #panic attack #exhaustion #doctors

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kissthegogo-goat-witch · 3 years ago

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Misery of the Vampire: Chapter two.

I'm posting chapters of my novel on tumblr, an autobiography of a vampire. You can find chapter one here: https://kissthegogo-goat-witch.tumblr.com/post/655648021868134400/misery-of-the-vampire-chapter-one

Now it is not entirely a myth that vampires sleep in coffins, for they did up until the end of the Victorian era. Now it is seen as obsolete. Being described as sleeping in coffins is also quite offensive to a few. My first time in a coffin was horrid. I felt claustrophobic as my body was trapped. I could feel its rough wooden surface create splinters as I struggled. If that wasn't bad enough, the two cysts were my sire had bit, finally burst. The horrid stench of puss filled the confined space. I released a cry of agony which was met with his fist pounding against the lid. I suddenly realized that my life would be dictated by this lunatic. How did I know? It was a feeling deep within my own body that I could not explain.

My fate than was determined as I heard a piano play softly. Every single key he had stroked pounded inside my head. When you are reborn as a vampire, your own hearing becomes painfully sensitive. The faintest of sounds could cause you to cringe in pain. Even after weeks, months of being turned, you will not stand even a pin dropping. He knew this. He knew my condition, the pain I was in, and how I was forced to feast on corpses. My sire had placed me in so much peril, and the reason why you may ask? Well, like I said before. I myself have no answer, but I believe that he was lonely. Soon the music had stopped and I could feel my body grow weak.

My whole being screamed at me to shut down, hibernate for the sun was rising. But I was too frightened. As I laid inside my prison, it begins to shake. His body, I could hear, sprawled across the coffin. Heavy breaths caused me to grimace. Never have I felt so humiliated in my long, wretched life. Finally, I surrendered and succumbed to the darkness swallowing me up. my sire's obsession with myself was evident. Never could I have been alone with his constant presence. This was a burden for when I was deprived of my own dignity. I admit that he had dressed me such as the wealthy, and our living was a far cry from those in the streets such as I was. But I was a prisoner.

Leaving was out of the question, for I had none of the skills that a vampire needed. Cliche it sounds, for it had been overused for centuries, but the bloodlust created a danger to mortal men. My very own morals won over my freedom. I suppose he wouldn't have allowed me to leave. One night we were both on his balcony, overlooking the ocean as waves crashed below us. The moon was full as she had shone down upon the both of us. Our bodies were entangled with one another, bare skin against the cold stone. It was a sin in this time and age, but why would we care? Haven't we already fallen from the Lord's grace?

"How many times must I tell you, why must I repeat?"

He asked softly. His fingers entwined into my hair, yanking softly so that my neck would be exposed. I knew what was to come next, and deep inside I shuddered. The feedings were forceful, painful, and degrading. I had no rights in our relationship, slave and master so to speak. Or at least that is what I thought. Suddenly, I had felt the same pain, the pain that was expected but yet I was still of no use to. To this day I still shudder when my neck is touched. He was rough, vile with how he fed. And there was nothing I could do about it.

Feeding on another vampire without their consent is the equivalent of sexual assault. With each day I was violated. His act was finished, and the pain was over. He carried me back to our shared coffin. I could not look into his face as he did so. For this man was not only insane, but a true monster. We laid there that night with dried blood between us, stained against our skin and stained on my soul.

I shall spare you from the worst of details, for some things that went on between us should never be spoken about. It is the least of dignity I have left. For many years I was trapped with Giovanni, learning and growing stronger, but not strong enough to be independent of him. Our relationship had grown to be more intimate, even if society did not allow it.

The night I escaped from Giovanni, was a night I shall never forget. The feeling of being finally free, like a bird released from its cage for the first time in all its life. I felt the ecstasy, the rush, and fear of being on my own. It started as a spark of rage from my sire. Having been lit as he accused me of wandering out into the night without him. For when he opened my coffin, I was not inside. Of course, I wanted a taste of freedom, for the many years were miserable enough. I have thought of myself grown enough as a vampire to be able to see our own world. But it was met by his own form punishment which turned into a fight for my own life.

Upon my return I found him on the balcony, still and silent as his figure loomed over. His face was stoic, no expression, empty of emotion. Like a ticking time bomb, he did not go off until the very last second. Upon reaching for him, he snapped. His fangs baring with a low hiss escaping. A gloved hand grabbed my wrist and snapped the bone as he jerked it over. I cried out in pain but was only silenced. I had not realized his intentions until there was a murderous gleam in Giovanni's eyes.

They turned black upon his attack. It was too late to avoid his wrath, for half of my face was torn off by his claws. I still remember the searing pain of my own skin being ripped off. The flesh underneath exposed. In a blind side of rage, I lashed out back at him with my free hand digging into his eyes. They were torn out of his skull with the stolen blood of mortals pouring out of its socket.

This was my liberation, my freedom which had been granted. But I took it with reaching into the fireplace, pulling out a burning piece of kindling like a torch and setting my blinded sire on fire. But alas, he survived. I would not have known this until the trial. Giovanni was sure to have been destroyed as the flames consumed our once, plush, home. I took my leave upon running with madness into the night. Smeared in blood with only half of a face, twas glorious. For people now feared me, instead of I fearing them and living as a house pet. I have caused a group of men on the streets to scream in terror. Their high pitched shrills gave me a thrill that I couldn't have imagined was ever possible. I feasted upon their fresh blood until I could no more. That very night I took on a metamorphosis and transformed into a true monster.

#personal #vampire #vampire novel #writing #writeblr #chapter #novel chapter #chapters #vampire writing #novelist

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honey-and-strawberry · 4 years ago

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Oh I don’t mind the question at all 😊! Swedish and German are my other two languages, my parents are from Germany but I’m born and raised in Sweden. We are thought English from third class but since movies aren’t dubbed in Scandinavia, like most of Europe, we grow up with English early on, more so now than before.

You probably needed the sleep and the rest but it does worries me a bit that you’re not feeling that well. It’s no wonder why you're stressed with everything happening and how it affects the entire world....as if we didn't have enough as it already is - a global pandemic doesn’t make things better! But I know that feeling, even if you know you’re probably not pregnant you’re still a bit worried, what if!? One time my period was really late, I was 20 at that time, and called the doctors office. A nurse then blatantly told me that I most likely was pregnant (I was not, btw), without any tests or anything, told me on the phone when I told her my reason for the appointment. It’s so unnecessary to say something like that without even knowing anything! And usually that’s one of the first questions a doctor will ask “are you pregnant or could it be that you are pregnant?”. So taking the test beforehand was a good move, with that question out of the way they can focus on what’s actually wrong with you. And yes, the healthcare system of the US is infamous, I'm afraid 😅. You make sure to take as good care of yourself as you possibly can ❤️! /stumbling anon

German and Swedish, we’re not that different after all 🥺😭🙌🏼❤️

So fun fact, a couple of Christmas’s ago I did the ancestry dna kit and the results were not so surprising but still surprising (I already knew I’m white as hell but the % of certain countries were shocking)

I would’ve thought I would have more Eastern Europe since my dad is from Hungary but 😅🤷🏻‍♀️

Omg your story on the doctors office don’t even get me started 😤 when I was having appendicitis everyone kept asking me (borderline assuming) if I was pregnant and it’s like ITS NOT EVEN THE SAME PAIN then when I talked to a physician he told me “yup you said the textbook definition of an appendicitis” and it’s like YES I KNOW. Even my mom when she had appendicitis the male doctor thought it was a cyst on her ovaries WITHOUT even looking (thankfully hers didn’t burst but mine did cause I had to wait 14+ hours for surgery). I have such a big issue about stuff like that. Not only do I worry that what if something is wrong but I’m even more worried that nothing can be done (I told my mom what has been happening and she’s like “oh it happened to me too, it sucks but it’s no big deal”. Arguably she’s the last person to take medical advice from cause she has two stents in her heart and she still smokes a pack and a half a day 🙃). A lot of stresses in the world and in personal experiences, it’s hard to keep up.

Please also take care of yourself 🥺 drink water, rest, take a nice soothing shower, listen to music in a quiet room.

#oh and I almost forgot! if you like Mx who’s your bias???? I’m curious! if you don’t particularly like them who what group do you like?#I’m also curious who you think my bias is 😂 I threw off a friend when I told her and she’s like ‘I thought you liked ___!’#we’re not so different after all 😌#my stumbling anon❤️❤️❤️

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hazzabeeforlou · 5 years ago

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On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is.

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful.

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating.

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe.

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso.

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards.

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay.

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died.

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert.

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day.

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone.

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on.

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too.

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life.

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too.

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come.

#mine #personal #tw suicide #tw disordered eating

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