#went through too much in the past 6 months ... a lot of verbal attacks from people I considered friends

[trekscribbles]

Triple Threat: A Stone Triplets Fic (Chapter 2)

Fandoms: Leverage/Leverage Redemption, Librarians, and Almost Paradise

Cross-Posted: Ao3 and FF

Summary: Eliot and Jake are both in the Philippines for separate jobs that turn out to be related. Kai takes the existence of Alex's brothers as a personal attack on her mental health. Ernesto happily goes along for the ride.

Read Chapter 1 here.

Chapter 2: Double Trouble

The last time Eliot saw Alex was when they were 16 years old. Alex had been living with Uncle Danny for 6 years at that point, so the brothers didn't have much of a relationship even then, and the reunion had been awkward and tense. Jake was the one who tried to keep them together, who talked their father into hosting Christmas that year. He was the one who'd called Alex and begged him to come home for a week. Just a week.

They'd lasted three days.

At the time Eliot had blamed Alex—immature, bull-headed Alex, whose verbal and then physical fights with their father had led to his living with Uncle Danny in the first place. If he could have just learned to keep his mouth shut, most of the fights wouldn't have happened. Eliot and Jake had learned that lesson—why couldn't Alex? He always had to have the last word, no matter what the cost.

That last visit was what finally convinced Eliot to leave home. He thought about college, but eventually decided to enlist as soon as he turned 18 (without telling their father). Jake was supposed to go with him, but he'd wanted to see Alex one more time before they left. When months went by and Alex didn't come back, Eliot left both his brothers behind.

Age had given Eliot perspective, but by the time he was ready to apologize, Jake wouldn't take his calls. Alex had already joined the DEA, and a series of undercover assignments for both of them made it impossible for Eliot to reach out. And then he got involved with Moreau, and getting in touch was no longer an option. It would have put them in too much danger, and that was one thing Eliot would never do. But after a while, even that became an excuse. After he escaped Moreau, after Nate created a team and a family for him, he let the silence continue. He'd made that choice on his own.

And now apparently Alex was in the Philippines. Permanently, according to the detective who introduced herself as Kai Mendoza. That was all she would tell him (through gritted teeth, as though Eliot had committed some unforgivable sin by asking). "We have to take care of this mess," she'd grumbled. "Then we'll take you to see Alex."

She hadn't asked if Eliot wanted to see Alex, and part of him was glad for that. If he'd been given the option, he wasn't sure he'd have said yes. It would have been easy to say that he was too busy, that he couldn't stay, that it was better for them not to meet. But now that the offer was there, Eliot couldn't turn it down. One way or another, he was going to see his brother today.

Kai and her partner Ernesto drove him and the two men they'd arrested to the police station, where Eliot was firmly told to stay in the car. Kai paused after giving the order as if waiting for him to argue, even after he nodded and promised to stay put. Apparently Alex hadn't changed much since they were kids.

While the others were inside, Eliot took a few minutes to call Hardison and update him on the job. It was just the two of them on this one, with Hardison pulling the strings from somewhere in Vietnam while Eliot worked on the ground in Cebu.

Hardison picked up on the first ring. "All done? I booked you a flight back to New Orleans on—"

"I ran into a little snag," Eliot interrupted.

"What kind of snag?"

Eliot explained most of his encounter with Kai and Ernesto, but he couldn't bring himself to include the fact that he'd been mistaken for one of his long-lost triplet brothers. Hardison knew he had siblings, but Eliot hadn't ever gone into details about them. He wasn't sure what he'd say now, and he knew Hardison would have questions. Best to leave it be. He'd give Hardison a more in-depth explanation later.

"So now what?" Hardison asked.

"Now we wait and see if they can salvage the sting. If they arrest Flores, our work is done."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll let you know."

There was a pause, as if Hardison was trying to decide whether or not to voice his next thought. "Is there something else?"

Eliot sighed. He tried not to lie to Hardison or Parker, but he didn't want to have this conversation now. "Not about the job," he answered. "I'll explain later."

To his credit, Hardison didn't argue, even though he had to be burning with curiosity. "Okay. Call back when you have more to share."

"Yeah."

It was another twenty minutes before Kai and Ernesto emerged from the police station, both wearing grim expressions. They were talking as they approached the car, and Eliot caught the tail end of their conversation through the open windows.

"I didn't want to bring him in on this," Kai was saying.

Ernesto shrugged. "We don't really have a choice anymore."

"Things get messy when his family is involved. It'll only complicate things."

Interesting. Which of his relatives had already come to the island? Evidently Eliot's family had a knack for disrupting the locals.

"Ocampo's orders," Ernesto said. He opened the passenger door and slid into the car, turning to look over his shoulder at Eliot. "We'll take you to see Alex, but you're going to have to come back to the station and explain what you were doing with Flores."

Eliot crossed his arms. "Figured you'd want to know that first."

"We do," Kai said, with a frown at her partner. "You owe the delay to Alex. He's helped us out in the past, and Ernesto thinks we should tell him you're here before he finds out from someone else."

"The surprise could kill him," Ernesto said mildly.

"You just want to see his face when we show up with his doppelganger."

"Don't you?" Ernesto asked. Kai huffed and dropped into the driver's seat.

They lapsed into silence during the drive, which Eliot appreciated. His stomach had begun an uneasy churn, though he told himself it was just because of the heat. There was nothing to be nervous about. Sure Eliot hadn't reached out, but neither had Alex. Neither had Jake, for that matter. Eliot had gone home once, just after he got out of the service, and found Jake had taken over the oil company. Their neighbors said that Jake was turning things around, digging out of debt and even managing a profit, and Eliot accepted the blessing and drove out of town without stopping by the house. It was enough that Jake was happy. He didn't need Eliot coming back and ruining things for him.

Kai pulled into the parking lot of another hotel, dodging groups of brightly dressed tourists as she went. "He owns the gift shop here at the resort," Ernesto explained, flashing a friendly smile over his shoulder. Kai didn't look at him as she got out of the car, but Eliot was happy to keep his silence. He trailed behind her as she led the way through the resort, winding around pools and umbrella-covered tables, slowing every few moments so Ernesto could greet someone. Apparently the friendliness wasn't an act—or else it was a very good one. But something about the man felt genuine, as if he couldn't be bothered to put up a front.

Kai, on the other hand... she was harder to read. Especially now that she wasn't giving Eliot anything to work with except the occasional glare.

Before long the bustle of the resort faded as concrete transitioned to sand beneath their feet. A small building rose ahead of them, still against the backdrop of gentle waves and lazy clouds. A soft breeze ruffled Eliot's hair, filling his lungs with salt and sunshine. He wanted to stop, to look out at the water and breathe in the sea spray and the silence, but the others kept walking.

No wonder Alex had picked this spot. If retirement was in Eliot's future, he could see himself in a place like this.

Ernesto reached the door, and Eliot took one last windswept breath to brace himself.

"You look nervous," Kai murmured.

No he didn't. He knew he didn't, because the only emotions he gave away were the ones he wanted people to see. And he was most definitely not nervous. But her eyes lingered on his, and something softened in her expression.

"Don't worry," she said, giving him a small, hesitant smile. "It'll be fine."

"Alex," Ernesto called, and Eliot's stomach gave another roll. This was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He tried to back away, but Kai put her hand on his arm and cut off his retreat, guiding him inside.

The gift shop was empty besides one man restocking a rack of post cards. He stood with his back to them, but it was impossible to mistake him for anyone else. He had the same build as Eliot, the same brown hair he'd have to fight to keep straight in this humidity, the same scarred hands from years of work and fighting.

"Hey!" Alex said without turning around. "Check it out, I got new cards."

Ernesto started across the room, gesturing for Eliot to follow. "How come you didn't tell us you had a twin?"

Alex looked at him. "A twin? I don't have a tw—"

His eyes fell on Eliot, and his words died. Eliot could feel Kai watching them, waiting for a reaction, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Hey, how've you been the last 30 years? Oh, me? Well, first I was an international assassin, and now I work with a group of thieves who steal from the rich and give to the poor. I still punch people for a living though. How about you?

Something started beeping. Eliot started—no, not started, just looked around for the source—but Alex slapped his hand to his wrist and the sound stopped.

"Everything okay?" Ernesto asked. Alex made a noncommittal sound, glancing at him before returning his attention to Eliot. His eyes seemed bluer than Eliot remembered. It was probably just the lighting, but since it was the only thought that didn't spiral out of control, it was the one Eliot clung to. Blue eyes like their mother's, like the pond water in the back yard. Blue eyes that had been red with anger and hurt the last time he'd seen them.

"Which one are you?" Alex asked.

Behind him, Kai made a choking sound. Ernesto shushed her.

"But—" she sputtered. "Are there more of them?"

Eliot refocused on his brother. "You don't recognize me?"

"You both look the same," Alex deadpanned.

"Well, we're in the Philippines and I'm speaking English."

For a long moment Alex simply stared at him as if trying to read the details of their separation in his face. Then he reached out, and Eliot braced himself for the punch. He wouldn't fight back—not at first, not unless things got out of hand. He could take a hit or two, let Alex burn off some of his anger, and then try talking. They weren't 16 anymore. They could handle this like adults.

But Alex didn't hit him. His arms flashed out past Eliot's head, wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him tight. "Eliot," he murmured, crushing him in a hug that drove the breath from Eliot's lungs. He didn't care. He grabbed two fistfuls of Alex's shirt and squeezed, pressing everything he couldn't voice into the embrace.

"It's good to see you," Alex said at last, gruffly. He pulled away without taking his hands from Eliot's shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh... work."

Alex frowned at the hesitation. "What kind of work?"

Eliot sent a look over his shoulder, where Kai and Ernesto still waited. They clearly had some kind of relationship with Alex, but how far did that extend? Likely not far enough to keep from arresting Eliot for the half-dozen laws he'd broken to secure his meeting with Flores. "I'll tell you later."

"Now's as good a time as any," Kai said. "You can tell us now or at the station, whichever you prefer."

"We can give them a little longer," Ernesto argued.

"Flores is still out there. The longer we wait, the more time he has to act."

"Who's Flores?" Alex asked. He let his hands slide from Eliot's shoulders, a frown settling over his face.

Kai gave him a pointed look. "I'll tell you later."

"I think you should tell me now."

"I don't care what—"

Ernesto held his hands up, putting himself between the two of them. "Kai, we can give them a few more minutes to catch up. We'll be outside, Alex. Ten minutes." He looked at Eliot. "Then you come to the station with us. Understand?"

"Fine," Alex said. "Ten minutes. I got it."

Though Kai looked like she wanted to argue, she allowed Ernesto to guide her toward the door. "Nice friends you've got," Eliot muttered.

He'd meant it as a joke, but Alex gave a serious nod. "Yeah. They are. They're closer than some of my family."

Apparently they were going to fight after all. "I didn't know how to contact you," Eliot said.

"You're smart. You couldn't figure something out?"

"Couldn't you?" Eliot countered. "The last I heard you were undercover. Reaching out would have put you in danger."

"I'm retired now," Alex said.

"So I hear."

Alex crossed his arms over his chest. "I did try to find you. There was a rumor going around that you'd died."

"I didn't. Well, I did once, but it didn't stick."

"How long ago was that?"

"While you were still undercover."

Alex gave a frustrated growl. "Fine. We both could have done more, alright? Just... fill me in on the case."

The case was a safe topic, so Eliot embraced the change without complaint. He gave his brother the basics as he knew them: Robert Flores was looking to set up a base to smuggle drugs to the United States. Hardison had been tracking him throughout Asia, but when business kept him in Vietnam he'd contacted Eliot about finishing the job. "Should have been simple enough," Eliot said. "Set up a meeting, figure out his weakness, take him down."

"But you weren't the only one after him," Alex said. He heaved a sigh. "How mad was Kai when you showed up?"

An involuntary smile pulled at Eliot's lips. "She thought I was you. I think she wanted to kill me more than Flores's men did."

Alex chuckled, sobering a moment later. "So this is what you do? You go after international criminals?"

"More or less."

"With who? I mean—CIA? Interpol?"

"It's kind of a freelance operation."

Alex shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It's a lot to explain," Eliot said. "And I will, I promise. Soon as we have the time."

"Right." Alex gave him another long look, and a small grin appeared on his face. "It's good to see you, man. It's been too long."

Eliot didn't try to stop his answering grin. "You go by Walker now?"

"You'd already taken Mom's name. Didn't leave me with much of a choice."

"Yeah, but... Walker? As in Texas Ranger?"

Alex hissed and shot a look toward the door. "Don't say it out loud, man. I've got a reputation to keep up here."

Eliot laughed, but Ernesto chose that moment to knock and peek into the gift shop, effectively ending the conversation. "You two finished?" he called.

"For now," Alex answered. "Where's Kai?"

"She went to get some coffee. She'll be back any minute."

Alex nodded. "Good. I wanna be back before the afternoon rush."

"You're not coming," Ernesto said. "I don't think Kai can handle two of you."

Eliot folded his arms. "For the record, I'm not Alex's double. If anything he's my double. I'm older."

"By eight minutes," Alex snapped.

"That's older."

Alex huffed a wordless reply, and Eliot felt a glow of something familiar in his chest. This was an argument they'd had hundreds of times—Eliot, being the oldest, started it most often when they were kids. Jake had come next, and then Alex—Baby Alex, they called him, whenever he was being annoying. Eliot was pleased to find the joke still funny.

Even better, Alex seemed to still find it annoying. Eliot couldn't say why that felt so comforting. Maybe it was just that he was thankful to see a glimpse of the old Alex, the one he'd known before they let their father and their pride get in the way of their relationship. Maybe it was the fact that Alex was relaxed enough to have this conversation in front of Ernesto. Maybe Alex had found a team the way Eliot had.

Maybe it was a good thing he'd come here after all.

[cherryblossomflowers]

An Old Life Meets A New (Pt26)

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter, Danneel x Stepdaughter, Jared x Niece

Warnings: Slight Cussing, Angst, Fluff, Death Mentioned, Car Accident Mentioned, Anxiety/Depression, Arguing, Panic Attacks, Yelling, Fighting, Sex Mentioned, Child Abuse, Drunk Abuse, Relationship Abuse, Alcohol

Summary: After the recent death of her mother, Harper must adjust to her new life in the Ackles home, this includes a new stepmother, half-siblings, and reconnecting with her father.

A/N: Long Chapter Alert! Harper tells Jensen about her past. There is a lot of cursing in this chapter. There is also a lot of physical abuse mentioned, PLEASE be warned. No hate on Danneel or Jensen please. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

*NEW CHAPTER EVERYDAY AT 3PM CST*

An Old Life Meets A New Masterlist

Chapter 26

Jensen and Harper sat on the bench for a while, his arm around her shoulder as she cried into his chest. Jensen had never seen Harper this way before. She was so delicate, so vulnerable, so scared of what would happen next. His strong little girl needed him, whether she'd admit it or not.

Harper slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes. Jensen pulled his arm back and moved to looked at his daughter in the face.

Harper then took a deep breath and sighed, "I think I should start with the first time he hurt Mom and I."

Jensen shook his head, "Harper, we don't have to do this right now. We can wait-"

"I've waited 7 years, Dad. I've kept my mouth shut for too long. Somebody needs to know. And more importantly...you need to know," Harper looked up to her father.

He nodded, "Okay, go ahead."

Harper looked towards the park as she began, "It was about 4 months into Dennis and Mom's relationship. You had left for Texas that day..."

*FLASHBACK*

It was late at night. An 8-year-old Harper sat on the couch next to her mother, sad that her father had to go back to Texas so soon. Lizzy had her arm around Harper, comforting her sadness. They were mindlessly watching some program on TV.

Just then, the front door opened and slammed shut. Lizzy turned around and saw Dennis walk in.

Lizzy sat up and looked at Harper, "Honey, go upstairs. I'll be up there in a bit."

Harper sadly looked at her mother, "But Mom, can't I stay up with you a bit longer?"

"I'll come tuck you in bed in a bit, Harper. Just go," Lizzy spoke urgently.

Harper nodded, got down from the couch, and walked upstairs to her bedroom. Lizzy stood from the couch and crossed the room over to her boyfriend. Dennis ignored her and walked over to the fridge, grabbing the whiskey bottle.

"Why in the hell is this bottle empty, Liz?" Dennis yelled.

Lizzy flinched at his words, "You drank the last of it last night."

"And you didn't think to buy more?" Dennis screamed back at her.

Lizzy stomped her foot, "Now you wait just a minute, mister. It's not my job to buy your addiction when-"

"What did you just say to me, woman? Did you just call me an addict?" Dennis said in a low voice.

Lizzy took a step back, her hands raised in defense, "Now, now, Dennis. You know it's true. You've gone through 6 bottles of whiskey just this week."

Dennis reared back the empty whiskey bottle and threw it at Lizzy. Lizzy turned away almost a moment too late as the bottle shattered against her back. She screamed out in pain as she fell to her knees.

"Don't you ever call me an addict again, you fucking bitch!" Dennis yelled at her.

Lizzy was on the floor crying from pain and fear as her boyfriend continued to yell at and kick her. All while this was happening, Harper could see Dennis and her mother from the top of the stairs.

She was crying and shaking as she watched this man beat her mother. She was too scared to go down and try to help, and she didn't know what to do. She couldn't call her Dad because he was on a plane. Uncle Jared was too far away to be able to come help. She had no one to save her mother.

"Now, you're going to get your fat ass off the floor, go to the liquor store, and buy me more whiskey. Or else," Dennis hissed at her.

Dennis stomped into the living room, flopped down on the couch, and changed the TV to the sports channel.

Lizzy stood up from the kitchen floor, wobbled a bit and grabbed on to the wall for support. She walked out of the kitchen and looked up to see Harper standing at the top of the stairs, cowering in fear.

Lizzy walked up a few steps and whispered, "Go to your room. I'll be back in a bit."

Harper shook her head and whispered back, "No, Mommy. Don't leave me here."

Lizzy rolled her eyes and sighed, "I know you're scared honey, but if I don't do this," she paused and turned to look at Dennis, "it'll just get worse."

Harper nodded and slowly walked to her room, shutting the door behind herself.

*FLASHBACK END*

Jensen was furious. The rage in his eyes was very present as well as the balled up fists at his sides. Harper on the other hand was shaking in fear and tears were pouring down her face.

"Dennis hurt mom every night since then. And when he started to beat me as well..." Harper trailed off.

"Harper, you don't need to tell me anymore. I think I understand-"

Harper interrupted him, "That's what you think. You don't know about the day you left us," she paused, looking at her father, "It was right after you climbed in the cab..."

*FLASHBACK*

Harper turned and watched Jensen climb into the cab, sad to see him go. Dennis continued to pull her in the direction he and her mother were walking.

Dennis clenched his teeth, "Walk forward you little brat!"

Harper yanked her arm from his grip, "No! I hate you!"

She then started running towards the cab that Jensen had gotten into, only to discover it was gone. She slowed down to a stop and fell to her knees, tears clouding her vision.

Dennis came up behind her and picked her up by the arm again, holding her in the air, "You listen here, little girl. Don't you ever run like that again. Or so help me I will beat you to a pulp. Understand me?"

Harper nodded in fear, trying to push his hand off her wrist, "You're hurting my arm!"

"Good. Maybe later I'll knock some sense into your stupid head," Dennis turned to face Lizzy, "And that goes for your mother too."

Lizzy looked terrified, knowing what's going to happen as soon as they were behind closed doors. Dennis continued to squeeze Harper's arm as he basically dragged her out of the park. Lizzy stood next to him as they walked, too scared to do or say anything.

*FLASHBACK END*

"I don't remember much after that. We got home, Dennis got drunk and beat mom until she was knocked unconscious. Then chased me into my room and did the same to me. He passed out drunk hours later. Mom came upstairs that morning and saw me covered in blood. She was the same. She cleaned me up then cleaned herself up. She had to teach me how to cover up the bruises with makeup," Harper stopped with a long sigh.

Jensen didn't know how to respond, but he settled on, "How long did this go on for again?"

"Five long, tough years. Mom and I were beaten every day for 5 years. It got worse when things happened like not having alcohol in the house, the few times Mom tried to stand up to him, but the worst one was the last time he did it," Harper looked up at Jensen.

He shook his head, "Harper, you don't have to explain anything else to me."

Harper shook her head in response, "Yes I do, Dad. This is the last thing, I swear. After this, I'll never mention it again. To you or to anyone for that matter."

Jensen took a deep breath, "Okay, babygirl. Go ahead."

Harper closed her eyes, trying to bring back the repressed memory, "It was sometime late in the summer about 2 years ago..."

*FLASHBACK*

Lizzy and and a 13-year-old Harper had just pulled into the driveway after going shopping. Harper needed new clothes as she was starting school in a few weeks. Lizzy loved to shop with Harper, especially when Harper wanted to try on clothes. She was very self conscious at times, but when she found something she liked, her attitude changed and she turns into a shopaholic.

Lizzy and Harper gathered the bags from the car, still laughing about something Lizzy was talking about. They walked up to the front porch of their home, Lizzy unlocked the door, and they walked inside.

And there was Dennis. Passed out drunk on the couch, the sports channel playing in the background, and beer cans covering the floor.

Lizzy and Harper quietly took their bags upstairs to their rooms. Once they put everything down, they walked back downstairs to see Dennis wide awake.

Harper quickly ran back up the stairs, afraid of what's about to happen.

And then it began. Just like clockwork. The verbal abuse always came first.

"You ugly ass piece of shit sorry excuse for a girlfriend! Why is it every time I come home from a long day of work, there is never whiskey or beer in the fridge? I had to go out and buy my own beer. What, are you too cheap for me now?" Dennis was screaming in Lizzy's face.

Lizzy learned though to fight back, "Dennis, it is not my job to get your alcohol. I don't drink it, you do. If you want it, you can get it for yourself."

And Dennis never liked it when Lizzy would fight back. Which means the physical abuse came next.

Dennis grabbed Lizzy by the throat and held her up, "And just where have you been all day, bitch?"

Lizzy coughed a reply, "Harper and I...we went...to the mall."

Dennis dropped her to the ground and watched as she choked for a breath, "Oh, really? Spending my money no doubt."

"Dennis, I have my own job. I can buy my daughter some clothes with my own money," Lizzy replied as she stood on her feet.

Dennis then kicked her in the stomach, "That little brat doesn't deserve new clothes, Liz. She barely deserves anything."

Lizzy coughed as blood dripped from her mouth, "Dennis, please. Stop."

"Stop? Stop? Oh, Liz. You stupid woman, you make me laugh," he chuckled, "I'll stop when I think you've had enough."

Just then, Harper ran down the stairs with the telephone in her hands, "I don't think so. I just got off the phone with the cops. They'll be here any second, you drunk bastard!"

Dennis was enraged with anger, furious at Harper. He grabbed her by the throat and threw her across the room like a rag doll. Harper hit the wall and fell to the ground.

For the next 20 minutes or so, Dennis went back and forth between Harper and Lizzy, beating one then the other. Lizzy was unconscious on the kitchen floor. Harper's vision was fuzzy, and she was starting to lose consciousness as well.

Though she was about to pass out, she could make out the red and blue lights outside her house and the faint sounds of sirens.

And after that, she blacked out.

Harper woke up hours later to a machine beeping next to her. She cracked open her eyes and saw a heart monitor next to her. When she looked down towards her body, she saw her right arm in a cast as well as her left leg.

She turned her head and saw Lizzy in a neck brace and a cast around her right leg. She was asleep, or still unconscious.

Harper sighed and let her head fall to her pillow. Tears clouded her vision and a few stray tears fell off her face and on to the pillow.

*FLASHBACK END*

"We were in the ICU for a couple weeks. Dennis went to jail for child abuse as well as many other charges. When Mom and I were released, she put out a restraining order against him for the first 6 months he was in jail," Harper took a deep breath and paused for a moment, "And after that, our lives went on. We started hanging out more often. It was nice...until..." she trailed off.

Jensen sighed, realizing how much of Harper's life he truly missed. She had gone through so much without him, and now he knows everything.

He wrapped his arms around her as he cried, "Harper, I am so sorry. For everything. I hate that Dennis did that to you both. I hate that I left without giving you an explanation. I'm a terrible father."

Harper chuckled, "Terrible? Last time I checked you never beat me to a pulp. No, Dennis was a terrible stepfather. You?" she hugged him tightly, "You came to find me because you were worried about me. You actually sit and listen to what I have to say. You take interests in my interests. You care, Dad. More than anyone I've ever known. Even more than Mom."

Jensen smirked and chuckled, "More than your mom? I doubt that. But it's nice to hear."

They sat in silence for a moment. Both just sitting in their own thoughts. Jensen was trying everything he could not to think about Dennis hurting his little girl or her mother. Harper was thinking of everything she had done for the past few days.

"Dad?" Harper spoke quietly.

"Yeah, babygirl?" Jensen pulled away from the hug to look at her.

"I'm sorry I ran away. I thought that if I came back to NYC I'd be happier. But I was wrong. This is my past, and I can't keep running back to it or I'll never be able to move forward. I'll never be able to grow," Harper looked down at her feet, "And Austin is going to take a while to get used to again. But I'm willing to try."

Jensen smiled and lifted her chin to make her look at him, "I'll do everything I can to make it seem like home for you, Harper."

Harper jumped forward to hug Jensen's waist, "You do plenty, Dad. I love you."

A tear fell down Jensen's face as he hugged Harper, "I love you too, babygirl."

However, things were about to take a complete turn.

"Harper? Is that you?"

Harper's eyes were wide open, I know that voice. It can't be. It couldn't be. No, please no.

She sat up and turned around, letting out an audible gasp.

"Dennis?"

------------------------------

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories​ @chessurkait​ @adorable-minibot​ @desiredposion​ @idksupernatural​ @thevelvetseries​ @spnfamily-j2​ @let-me-luve-you @obsessedwithfandomsx @wecantgiggleitsafandom

@mangueweaschester @unicornmadness2444 @emery--nicole--morrison @starchildwild​ @deans-baby-momma​ @spnbaby-67​

[tribridkissed]

Everything Afflicting Lil’ Ol’ Me…

Sleep Paralysis:

Starting off with the basics here because this has been what sort of started it all. When I was little, I was super into the whole idea of spirits. I honestly still am for different reasons, but it started when I was young and having sleep problems. The doctors still don’t know why it started, but I’ve always thought I sensed ‘presences’ so I told ghost stories…because I saw ‘ghosts’ in my sleep, some of which were terrifying and would sit on my chest and I’d still feel that feeling when I woke up, so duh it was real.

When I was a teenager, I started getting these hallucinations far more vividly and the doctors started to take it a lot more seriously, especially when I was getting depressed and suicidal on top of it all. Turned out I had ‘Old Hag’s Syndrome’, or ‘Sleep Paralysis’, and there was now a logical explanation for it. Basically my brain wakes up sometimes before my body does, and I’m paralyzed but I can still see the hallucinations. Feeling pinned down and violated is honestly the worst, and it fucks me up for the rest of the day mentally when it happens. It is why I’m against lucid dreaming, and why I vehemently believe in demons and evil spirits even if doctor’s wanna just call it a hallucination induced by stress. Either way, I have insomnia sometimes too and my sleep is all over the place and that never helps one’s body.

Hormone Imbalances

My hormones have probably been all over the place my whole puberty experience? Like, my periods started out being heavy, irregular and painful. I know that’s mostly normal--we women handle cramps like a boss, okay?--but I would have to stay home from school once or twice in a row every time I got my period, because I was curled up in a ball hurling: much like I do now. Going on birth control helped for a while and then started to make it worse, so we took me off of the birth control and my period started to even out and I stopped getting so sick, unless I ovulated from both sides and not just one, which they found out was also happening. Yay for the possibility of twins naturally, but yikes to the extra hormone surges.

Paraxysmol AFib:

I went through a whole stint of my early 20′s having palpitations in my chest. I just attributed it to my anxiety, and to stress because I had just finished a whole High School career of only honor’s classes, and I had switched from Pre-Med to Early Childhood Development, and so even when the doctors from an arrhythmia, I just sort of dismissed it. I didn't have the time, I was working twelve hours days as a nanny, I was doing college, and I didn't have time...and then I had an AFib attack after exercising and ended up having chest pain.

That pain lasted a month and a half without going away or getting any better, I had a bunch of doctors tell me I was being a hypochondriac, and then I got put on a heart monitor. The heart monitor caught not one but two episodes in the span of three weeks, and it was only then that they took me seriously. So even though I was ‘too young’ and ‘healthy’, I ended up becoming a heart patient at the ripe old age of 25, and it has been part of my life ever since. I take medicine daily to keep my heart rate down, because it beats too fast on its own, and I had to cut down on coffee, which...I was a caffeine addict so that was rough, lol. I’ve had to change dosages, which stresses my body out for a week each time that happens, and it has just been who I am now. I have heart patient jewelry and everything, just in case of emergencies.

Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome

So this all brings me to the next big thing: cyclic vomiting syndrome. I have been sick for 6 months now, nauseous basically every day, vomiting stints every once in a while that land me in urgent care to get IV fluids and meds because nothing will stay in my stomach, it all comes up. This started back in August, now known actual cause, and it has been my main affliction these days. I am on antacid medications, my heart medicine still, and anti nausea I have to take every single day. My body is exhausted, and that’s not even the half of it.

The doctors aren’t even fully sure this is what is going on with me, this is just how they are treating me because they can’t find anything. I have had an MRI, CT scans, ultrasounds, blood tests of all sorts (food allergies, diabetes, etc.), and everything says I am healthy. I have had a tumor removed from my esophagus when they did the endoscopy in the beginning, and I had a history of cysts (I’ve had one in my head, in my arm pits, and now one in my right nasal cavity), and I have a second and third tumor growing in my right arm. They aren’t convinced any of this is related, they just know that my period problem from high school is happening again, so they’re convinced it is hormone induced cyclic vomiting syndrome...which has no for sure cause or cure, so, that has been nice, and has triggered my depression, but I’ve been dealing with my depression my entire life.

Depression/Abuse

Since I was a kid, I’ve had a messed up home life. My uncle did some truly horrible things before he ended up eventually in jail for four life sentences, and short story on that because I simply don’t talk about it, is he used to tape my sister and I shut in boxes, and threaten us with his pet snake. He even through a knife at my cousin once, and would put my sister and up on the top shelf of the closet and leave us there.

On top of that, my Dad was never around much, and he left for good when I was 7, the same year that my grandmother died from the chemo for her ovarian cancer. He is a whole other story in itself, but he only added to my abandonment issues when I was 21 and he showed back up ONLY to talk my sister and I out of making him pay off the back child support he owed (it was a whole thing), and having the audacity to say he stayed away because he loved us...but raised our half siblings, so...just. I don’t like talking about him either.

Then I had a mother who was constantly verbally abusing my sister and I--she still does--and calling us fat even when we were skinny. Telling us we wasted our potential, telling us we’re useless, etc., and only recently getting herself the help she needs for her own emotional issues because she too was abused. Our family is filled with abusers, and she’s much better now that we’ve all addressed we have some problems, but dealing with that on top of all the other things that I deal with now, has been rough.

I feel broken. My mother tells me not to say that, but all of my health issues, and my failed past relationships with boys that have thus kept me single the last three years, make me feel that way. I’m a demisexual person who had two boyfriends cheat because they couldn’t wait for me to be ready for sex, and one basically admit after a little while that he just wanted sex and was “putting up with my feelings until then”, and I dunno, I delved farther into writing and honestly, it has been my only constant.

I’ve been writing stories since I was 6, and this is a hobby, yes, but it is also an escape when I’m not working on my stuff to get published (I’ve actually been a published author since 2011). I’m editing my second book right now and it gets priority sometimes when I’m in a funk, but I have been so sick lately because of my stomach, and just so tired and stressed with work really only keeping me on because they can’t fire me when I have medical reasons and doctor’s notes, and I just thought you guys should know.

I try to be on because writing helps me not think about all of my issues, but sometimes I’m so tired, or so sick, that I just can’t do replies. Plus, my arm with the tumors has been hurting more and more lately, and I may have to get them removed, which will mean another two weeks of a sling and pain meds, and crying myself to sleep because recovery from arm surgery hurts.

So if I’m ever slow, something is up. I love being around to write--it’s my safe space--but I’ve been dealing with a lot lately. I really do love and appreciate all of you, and I’m so grateful that you guys are so patient with me. <3

[foxgivenblank]

a more wholesome prompt? youve been penpaling marzia for quite some time and when you decide its time to her, you meet fe as well. as you visit her though, you notice that both her and fe are a little different. she talks about felix all the time but the way they were acting was so weird. they were friendly but seemed too friendly. you didnt mind it and before u went back home they told u that they both liked u. after a few months, u just move in with them and make the ultimate couple ✌😎✌ - 🌻

that sounded better in my head oops - 🌻

No worries! So, sorta like a companion piece the the Mark and Amy triad idea?

What the ever living f u c k was this. I. What the fuck. Take it. Take the fucking thing oh my god

IT’S ALL FUCKING FLUFF WHAT THE FUCK

It’s 1700 words oh my freaking jesus christ

Marzia would be a great penpal. Each letter had cute flowers, hearts and other doodles written on the edges and the paper always smelled like perfume and herbs. You had no idea how she managed it, but you loved opening the letters and getting a wave of comfort every time.

You still couldn’t believe that you had somehow been lucky enough to get to speak with her. Writing. Whatever. Point was, you were always on cloud nine when you received her letters. And you always felt like such a clumsy oaf when you hand-wrote your responses back to her. You did your best to keep the letter positive, but after a few weeks you started discussing your anxiety around crowds and being around people. Surprisingly, she had similar problems. It was worse when her English was poor, but she was always worried about something she did impacting Felix, or being worried about what others would think of her new projects. It used to be a lot worse of course, before she became a little more comfortable, but knowing that even she still struggled with it made you relax your barriers. Made it easier to share with her your worries, anxieties and how much you valued her insights and friendship.

By the time you had been in contact for 6 months of back and forth letters she suggested audio calling for the first time. It took you longer than you wanted to admit to be comfortable doing so, as you were worried about everything; your voice, having to respond in real time and not being able to formulate multiple responses to pick between. After all of your worry and anxiety, the actual conversation well better than you could have dreamed and you felt so lucky to have her friendship.

Audio calls became more commonplace. You would still write to each other, but it wasn’t uncommon to see the two of you chatting one a week or every other week, seeing as you both had busy schedules. After a year, Marzia finally proposed that you spend a week vacation with her in Brighton. She knew you had quite a bit of time saved up, and she was willing to host you so you only had to worry about the cost of the plane tickets.

For the weeks leading up to the visit, you couldn’t keep the wide smile off your face and everybody thought you had found somebody to date. If only they knew the truth! The plane ride seemed to last an eternity and it was just as uncomfortable as you remembered. As such, when you exited the plane you were cranky, hungry and ready for a nap. Though you froze when you realized you had no idea if Marzia even knew what you looked like. You had never video chatted and you couldn’t remember if you included any pictures in the letters.

Internally freaking out you made your way to the baggage claim in a daze, mindlessly picking up your bag and dragging it to the departing area, following the crowd. A chirp had you pulling out your phone to find a message from Marzia. They’re doing their best to avoid the crowd and she had messaged you the level and space in the garage.

Scanning the walls you break off from the crowd and make your way to the elevator, punching the correct floor for the parking garage and impatiently tapping your leg as you crawled at a snail’s pace. 

Navigating the garage was an, experience, but you were finally able to find the correct space and you couldn’t help but beam a smile at Marzia. She leapt up off the trunk of the car and pulled you into a warm, tight hug. Not suffocating but perfectly relaxing.

Felix calling out to grumble about leaving before the traffic got even worse had you scrambling to push your bag into the trunk and slide into the car, blushing and not sure what to do with your hands. Marzia did her best to coax you out of your shell, but it was difficult. You had completely forgotten that Felix would be there too. How did you forget, oh my god you didn’t prepare for this.

At the end of the ride you were at least able to verbally respond again, but due to the day of travel, the shock of remembering Felix would be there and finally being able to see Marzia in person... You were drained. Absolutely exhausted and you couldn't stop apologizing to Marzia. She wouldn’t let you say a word about it though, repeatedly telling you that it was okay and that of course you could go to sleep and no it didn’t matter if it was 10 in the morning a nap would do you some good. And honestly she expected it, travel was always hard on the body.

As soon as you flopped down on the bed you were out. Body even more exhausted then you expected. When you groggily came to several hours later you could feel gentle fingers combing through your hair and you let out a confused mixture of sounds. Making a plaintive noise when the fingers paused. A soft giggle had you lifting your head and blinking owlishly at Marzia. You flushed and scrambled to sit up, embarrassed. She doesn’t say anything of the situation, but she does let you know it’s mid afternoon and both her and Felix were making some snacks if you were interested. Still too embarrassed to speak, you jerk your head in an approximation of a nod.

Fortunately, Marzia doesn’t tease you more than that, just let’s you know where the bathroom was so that you could take a quick shower and feel more awake.

Eating with Marzia and Felix was, an experience. You were still shy around both of them, not really knowing how to act, but you were at least able to participate in the conversation this time, instead of going nonverbal like this morning.

After the food, Marzia proposes a movie while Felix begs off to go to the office and get some recording and editing in. You flush again, and apologize since you know he missed quite a bit of work time today since they had to pick you up from the airport. He waves off your apology, not irritated since he was able to spend more time with Marzia.

You and Marzia watch movies the rest of the afternoon, sharing snacks and eventually, you reach the same level of back and forth that you had accomplished via voice calls. Laughing and snarking each other back and forth. Even Felix coming home with take out dinner didn’t cause you to regress and and get flustered.

The rest of the week passes in a similar manner, Felix popping in and out of the flat to complete his work at the office while you and Marzia either watch movies and chat or take walks around the neighboring parks. At the end of the week, it wasn’t an uncommon sight for Felix to return to the both of you cuddled together and sleeping on the couch, movie long forgotten. The first time he had shook the two of you awake you had returned to your nonverbal state, blushing furiously. The next few times were a little better, but you still grew flustered when Marzia would wake you up by playing with your hair in the morning.

Even Felix was getting more comfortable with casual touches while the three of you prepared food together watched movies. You thought nothing of it. Just thinking it was a thing that they did. The last night you were there, it was another movie night. Horror this time. And you were terrified. Jumping at each scare and whining, wrapped up in the blanket and burying your face in Marzia’s shoulder whenever the monster would start chasing the humans. There had been a lull in the jumpscares and you felt a false sense of relaxation, the characters were figuring out the history of past humans that had been chased by the monster. And then the monster was there on the screen. You screamed. You were definitely embarrassed by that, but you screamed and completely dove toward Marzia, burying your face in her stomach and wrapping your arms around her sides, terrified and startled and embarrassed but how were you going to get out of this oh my god.

Marzia’s arms settling across your shoulders and her fingers stroking your hair and running along your scalp caused you to relax though. Sighing and enjoying the feeling. Feeling Felix’s hand settle heavily on your shoulder caused you to jump, but Marzia made sure to sooth your nerves with gentle rubs against your head. You fell asleep like that, and only woke up slightly to the gentle rocking motion of Felix carrying you into the guest bedroom. Still muzzy with sleep you grumbled and buried your face into his shoulder, complaining that he woke you up. Come morning, you were mortified and only Marzia coaxing you out of the room had you facing her and Felix.

Neither or them brought it up though, Marzia just giving you a kiss to your cheek and a pat to your head. Blushing as you caught sight of both her and Felix’s smirks. You shoved some fruit in your mouth to avoid answering or talking for a little longer yet.

Marzia then surprises you with a finger on your chin, lifting your head up from it’s bowed position. You blink wide eyed, confused. Before she leans in for a soft kiss. You’re sure you look shell shocked, and you’re also sure that your flush has descended into your whole body. It sure feels warm enough. You’re winding yourself into a panic attack before Felix’s hand settled on your head, ruffling your hair and making some dumb, sarcastic remarking that has you hiccuping a laugh.

It’s something that will need to get discussed, but seeing Marzia’s smile and Felix’s relaxed smug face-which, honestly, is just his default expression apparently-you can’t help but be relaxed too.

You’re not surprised when they ask you to come by for another vacation in a few months, and  you’re exciting to see where this goes. And this time, you would be the one to initiate a kiss.

---

@loveisffandlattes

[stevedonnellyfaith-blog]

Memorial Day (Post 38) 5-28-14

                        Father Jerry has been writing about discernment for the last several months.  Discernment pertains, in a way, to Memorial Day, our commemoration of men and women who died protecting our freedom.  To me the most compelling stories of bravery describe those heroes who like Christ consciously chose to lay down their lives for their fellow service persons.  This type of choice is a form of discernment, but in the cases that I think about on Memorial Day the discernment process usually occurs in accelerated fashion – in some cases instantaneously.

On Memorial Day my son, Nicholas, and I usually watch the movie Blackhawk Down.  Over the years the scenes have become familiar to us. (Note - we have not memorized the entire dialog the way my daughter Abby can recite the lines of Pride and Prejudice.)  To me the most haunting sequence entails the Delta Force sniper team of Randy Shughart and Gary Gordon repeatedly requesting permission for insertion to protect Michael Durant and the crew of Super Six Four from the mob of Somali gunmen converging on the second crash site.  Providing air cover from a relatively safe position aboard an MH-6 Little Bird, Shughart, Gordon and their teammate Brad Hastings repeatedly request to be inserted into the crash site to confront the oncoming horde face to face. Finally their request is granted and they are allowed to enter the battle with no promise and, in fact, little possibility of additional help other than Brad Hastings’ remaining rifle fire from above.

Some Americans would question why the two men soldiers would insist on taking this seemingly foolhardy and ultimately ineffective action.  They might even misperceive Gordon and Shughart’s heroism as macho bravado or stupidity.  Most Americans understand the motivation of these two special operators on a visceral level, but would have trouble verbalizing what we admire about the actions of the two Delta members.  In my view Gordon and Shughart were faced with a question of discernment.  They had to decide who they were and what action was most consistent with how they defined themselves.  Their discernment told them that they were unable to watch the crew of Super Six Four be massacred without taking direct action.  Shooting from a safe position without inserting was something that these two men felt would violate their personal code.  Both men won the Congressional Medal of Honor for their actions that day – posthumously as might be expected.

On the much more mundane stage of our daily lives we often face decisions where we too must discern actions consistent with our perception of ourselves.  For instance, as a loving father, faithful husband and a devout Christian, my behavior should be uniformly charitable, merciful and moral. Our country decorates and honors brave servicemen like Randy Shughart and Gary Gordon to make them models for other soldiers to emulate.  In the Catholic Church the ultimate model for our behavior is Jesus Christ and we also learn by studying the actions of all the saints and martyrs who have followed Jesus’ example.

In my naval service I also had the honor of serving with one shipmate, Christopher Woodmansee, who chose to lay down his life for his friends.  MM3 Woodmansee worked in the engineering plant on my first ship the USS Dahlgren (DDG-43), a destroyer that was slightly long of tooth and had been kept around past its expected service life.  Removing older ships from service was delayed during the build up to a 600 ship navy – a strategy to bankrupt the USSR through an arms race it could not afford. Unfortunately through military inertia the Coontz class of destroyers stuck around for several years after the Soviet empire had already crumbled.  The ships were powered by antiquated 1200 pound high pressure steam plants and at 31 years old, not all the piping, connections and components in the engineering spaces remained reliable.  The ships of the Coontz class began to catch fire or have other accidents in domino fashion during the early nineties.

Even though we both worked in Engineering, Petty Officer Woodmansee and I did not interact on a daily basis.  As a mechanic and watch-stander in the Number One Engine Room, Petty Officer Woodmansee spent much of his time turning a wrench, beating on stuff with a hammer or joking with his buddies.  As a junior officer, I stood watches topside, did a lot of paperwork and got yelled at by the senior officers.  In the Navy junior officers often act as piñatas for senior officers because frustrated leaders need someone to yell at and it is bad leadership for officers to yell at enlisted personnel.  Chief Petty Officers are in charge of yelling at enlisted personnel.  When officers yell at enlisted, it makes the chiefs more cranky than usual – that outcome is generally bad for all concerned.

Another bad outcome is when a threaded fastener in a high pressure lube oil system fails catastrophically within an operating steam plant.  When a plug or screw rockets out of a pressurized lube oil system, a stream of oil follows, is atomized by air and generally finds something hot.  The result is a giant fireball.  On February 22, 1992 this is what happened on the upper level of #1 Engine Room of USS Dahlgren where MM3 Christopher Woodmansee, AKA Woody, was standing watch.

In that situation Woody was trained to notify Main Control and to immediately evacuate.  In his split second discernment, MM3 Woodmansee decided that the fire posed a threat to the other men in the engine room.  Instead of leaving, Woody attacked the fire with a 15 pound CO2 bottle; the size of extinguisher that high school goof-offs mess with to earn detention.  A fifteen pound CO2 bottle is an effective tool for extinguishing a trash can blaze, but is not suitable for attacking a large fireball especially when the source of the jetting lube oil remains unsecured.

While Woody died that day, probably of asphyxiation, all but one of his buddies made it to safety. Some might say that Christopher Woodmansee was not a hero and that he had just made a wrong split-second decision. It is my understanding, though, that there was more than one empty CO2 bottle at the feet of Woody’s body.  To me a second extinguisher means that MM3 Woodmansee was not satisfied with attempting the impossible once; Woody went back for a second helping.

With the advent of Facebook service members are able to easily track down people with whom they served. On Veterans Day many of my shipmates change their profile pictures to cruise book photos from a quarter century past. We swap sea stories about things that happened on the ship or in ports of foreign countries that often ended at Captain’s Mast – a shipboard hearing for non-judicial punishment.  Memorial Day stories are different.  For my shipmates, Memorial Day posts always honor Christopher Woodmansee and Sean Bible who both died in a fire in Number One Engine Room over 20 years ago.

For our country, Memorial Day, is a Good Friday-like day where we express our appreciation for those who have given their lives for our freedom.  On Good Friday I think it is also important to remember that Jesus Christ did not die just for the Church; instead He loved us and chose to die for each of us individually.  The same is true of Memorial Day.  While those that died in uniform definitely died for our country, Christ-like many of them also died laying down their lives for the people with whom they served. They professed to be soldiers and sailors and took action consistent with their profession.  We too should seek to always take actions consistent with the Catholic faith that we profess.

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Blood Curse part 5

Find this on wattpad

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

A/N: This is kinda the single ladies girls squad chapter @queenmareena and @lilyharvord have requested. But there’s a lot of verbal slaying and sparring too. And pain. Yeah. And it’s super-long. Thanks @thomaven for advice^^ Enjoy~

Mare POV

In the end, Evangeline gets what she wanted and group of volunteers sets out to hunt for Maven. I’m one of them. But the boy king is astoundingly good at running away. We start with checking the breaches in the wall and the tunnels though there isn’t much to see, with the remains of the dead soldiers moved away. So, we run across the fields around the city, searching for Maven’s traces.

It’s strange to be here, when the memories of the battle in the blizzard still linger in my mind. But the sun is shining now, although not as hot as in Piedmont, and in some places, green grass is growing. Actually, if I turn away from the fortress, the landscape is weirdly peaceful. An unsettling thought, and the other members of the hunting party, most of them Silvers, seem to have almost similar feelings as they frown and move reluctantly. There’re no trails of Maven and his army to be found and probably, they vanished as they came. And why should they stay? It’s easy to forget that the war has ended when its dread loomed over us Reds for generations. Yet it was a ruse all along and the conflict was solved as easily as salt in water.

Maven’s and the Lakelanders’ retreat bring back the option of abandoning Corvium, an idea which was raised in the last meeting. Without the war and the choke’s trenches filled with soldiers, Corvium is just a huge but random stronghold instead of a death gate. It’s a reasonable plan, but it might be yet another trap by Maven to lure us away and to dissemble from his real schemes.

Evangeline, who was the first to volunteer, doesn’t give up so easily. Her dress is changed partly into an armour, partly formed into makeshift weapons and trinkets which she throws on the ground to use as anchors to jump away from. It’s almost like flying and I gaped when I saw it for the first time. Now, two hours later, I only glance at her every now and then, fascinated by the beauty of it and yet noticing her sombre mood. Fighting and using her ability seem like her only release and I can relate to that. While she still denies how fruitless this search is, I want to run to the electricon hill and call my lightning with Ella, Tyton and Rafe. Maybe they’re doing exactly that, only here instead of in Piedmont. So I spin on my heal and dash back to the city.

The huge breach where we fought catches my attention and I see Farley walking there, her hands on the wall. I go to her and she turns to me. She looks around as I approach her. “Hey Mare, are you alone? Good.”

I frown.

“Did you know,” she says, “there’s a Newblood in the Piedmont base who can control and shape rocks?”

I shake my head.

“That’s not surprising. He’s arrived recently with his family. He would’ve been very handy in this fight, of course. But he’s only fourteen and much too young for this.”

“Right,” I agree, and think of Cameron. She wasn’t much older when we recruited – abducted – her, and she needed a long time to arrange herself with the situation. We deserved her reproaches. We shouldn’t repeat this way of “recruitment” ever again. Then I work out why Farley was nervous before. “You don’t want the Silvers to know about this boy?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. The Silvers don’t have that kind of respect for childhoods, do they?”

From the corner of my eyes, I can still see Evangeline’s jumps. 

Corvium changes dramatically in the next two weeks and it turns more and more into a garrison, with almost relaxed inhabitants. At least they can feel like that. Enough Reds  - and some Silvers – start to believe in the alliance and it unsettles me how easily they’re convinced. I guess anything is better than waiting for death in the trenches or by Maven’s revenge. I can’t trust the idea that Maven will give up Corvium like this. Maybe it’s easier for the Red soldiers who are less tense and waiting for relocation, as that’s what’s happening. Farley is in charge of them and while she’s recruiting those willing to fight on and to become members of the Scarlet Guard, she often goes to Corvium’s sister city Rocasta where the released Red soldiers are stationed. Those who can’t live like this any longer. They wait to be relocated but that option has to be restricted, as both travelling and safe places are limited. Of course, most of them want to be with their families, but while we can’t force anyone to stay who’s willing to run on their own risks, if they returned to their homes, the shadow of rebel collaboration might fall on them, especially if their home town is loyal to Maven.

To my surprise, the Silvers don’t object, as long as Farley, General Akkadi and the other Red officers report on their numbers and the Silvers deem them high enough, high enough to build their joint army. While most soldiers cling to their own, one division is mixed where the Silvers include some Reds as officers among the Silver ones. It’s supposed to be a revolutionary project, but it isn’t, as Maven did the same thing with his Newbloods. Ironically, the joint army was Tiberias’s idea, as was the shadow legion a year ago. I wonder if that satisfies him, to somehow revive his concept and to train the soldiers himself. He seems to when he talks about them and he even dares to look at me more often during these reports. Those glances are invitations, I think, to come and visit their training, at best to stand beside Tiberias, the rightful king, and witness the cooperation of Reds, Silvers and Newbloods. Only that it happens on Tiberias’s terms, not the Scarlet Guard’s

I’ve carefully avoided to visit and I left the part of Tiberias’s Red partner as commander and trainer to a woman of Farley’s and Davidson’s choice. Her name is Saraline Barnes and spends her spare time often with Farley. They must have known each other for some time and that past connects them. With her, Farley seems almost girlish. I suspect Farley carries a photo of Clara around and has shown it to Saraline who’s happy for her, despite everything else. Saraline, a black woman, is a soldier of the Guard and has been in Corvium for months, almost since I’ve learned of my powers, and she’s as battle-hardened as Farley. As many of us are. I don’t know what she went through, but she has lost neither her assertiveness, nor the ability to smile for a friend, and I’m glad for both of them to have met again.

Instead, I end up training with the Newbloods. I think Kilorn would be disappointed with us Guards in Corvium. But I try to take his efforts to heart and sometimes go with Farley to meet with the Red soldiers. Fortunately, her commanding presence keeps them from treating me as either some kind of icon or a traitor. Or maybe I’ve finally become Operative Barrow to them, instead of the legendary Lightning Girl.

I reserve my lightning for the Newbloods and their commander, General Akkadi. She’s as authoritative as any of the Silvers. Her Newblood soldiers are loyal to a fault and she secures them places to live and train in as good as can be. I meet her during a bustling training session but unlike to actual battle, it’s possible to talk. She’s curious to learn about Guard members, such as me, as I’m curious about her. Her first name is Selene. She has bronze skin and is in her mid-fourties, although her hair is already grey and fixed in a long braid. She grew up in Montfort and tells me her ability is prophecy and for a second, I flinch, thinking of Jon. But she isn’t like him, she’s more like an Eagrie eye, a seer of the immediate future. She has a far greater reach than them though, and superhuman reflexes to act on her visions.

I understand better what she means when I see her fight other Newbloods. Neither a strongarm, swift nor teleporter are able to lay a hand or foot on her as she dodges all their attacks. Instead she aims at their weak spots with an uncanny precision, often scoring a potentially fatal blow in seconds.

“Close combat isn’t everything,” I say when she leaves the ring.

“True, true,” she admits, unperturbed by my little tease. “But that’s not all I can do.” She smirks. “A battle is different, as being a commander is different. I can see the future of … the whole of the fight and of almost every soldier in my vision as well. So, I might order them to act as if each of them has my gift.

"In theory, at least. It’s hard to communicate and making them understand what I need them to do in the chaos. I’ve learned to deal with the distraction visions can be, but nothing is ideal.” A dry laugh escapes her throat. “If we had a whisper or someone similar, they might transmit what I see to everyone else, like a perfect conduit. If we could trust them, that is,” she adds, noticing my severe frown at the thought of a whisper among us.

Tiberias wishes for one as well, for very different reasons.

The idea of someone else in my head continues to make me shiver with horrible memories and I need several moments to focus again on the here and now.

Akkadi doesn’t touch me but turns around and squats in front of me. Her dark brown eyes are warm, but something more than compassion sparkles in them.

“There’s a woman in Maven’s army who’s like me,” she tells me. “A Silver, but maybe the most powerful eye there is.”

Ambition, I realize. The Silver woman wakes Akkadi’s joy about challenge and competition. “General Aude Eagrie,” she explains. “She has whispers to aid her. She’s the heir to her house and has been at the choke for ages, a venerable veteran. Yet she’s lost Corvium twice now.”

Akkadi probably desires to meet the Silver general in person and to duel her herself to examine who’s truly the better of them. I don’t know much about this Aude. I heard of some quarrel about the inheritance of the title of House Eagrie, the candidates being an eccentric young man, a lady with royal blood and a lady general who must be Aude. I wonder if her efforts in the fake war can really outbalance her long absences from court. Then I banish the idea. I doubt the family quarrels are severe enough to get them at each other’s throats and if we’re lucky, the High Houses are done with before the question becomes serious. The Eagrie title isn’t my problem, but I realize I’m still trying to memorize, analyse and use all information I can get, as I did during my imprisonment.

I slap my thighs, clench my fists and take a breath. I jump from my seat. “You’re impressing, General,” I say to Akkadi. “But now it’s my time to spar”. I catch Ella’s eyes from the other end of the gym. She nods and I faintly see she’s smiling as I move to the ring. 

The daily pre-lunch meetings of Red and Silver officers are another kind of battle. Although words and gestures are the only weapons, these discussions are fiercer than training. They’re pretend, of course. I understand that we sit down every day to talk as if we’re truly allies but we quarrel the whole time. If Davidson’s trying to deceive the Silvers through false promises and information, I’m unaware of his means. It’s like the people at this table deciding over the fate of Corvium are just actors in his play.

I don’t forget my suspicion but it’s no excuse from being unfocused in those meetings. People like the Samos’ or Anabel, who call themselves royals, are too dangerous to be disregarded.

But these table discussions are revealed to be fake and useless once you know about the subterfuge.

I almost pity Tiberias sitting at his place of honour. He’s learned to present a majestic image outside of battle by now, as he’s dressed in a tailored and bejewelled uniform. I’m not immune against his sight, as handsome as ever. But the longer I dare to look at him, the more I feel the sting. He’s the perfect Silver prince again, one of them, as if he’s never been a rebel. At least Maven is aware of the difference between truth and image whereas Tiberias seems – as if he likes part of it? No, that can’t be, I can see how uncomfortable he is beneath his regal mask. And it’s not like I’ve granted him a chance to be with me at other places than this table.

Tiberias remains silent for most of the time and lets his allies and new advisors talk, in some kind of imitation of Volo Samos. Volo, in turn, still prefers to have his son present his side, as if Ptolemus is some kind of apprentice prince.

“Maven is again on a tour across Norta and is difficult to locate in advance,” Ptolemus explains.

Maven’s probably inspecting his defenses.

“It’s likely he’s expanded his railway network,” he adds and then pauses. I see the interest on Ptolemus’s face. Despite his and Evangeline’s unrest during our first trip with the train, he’s developed a fancy for the vehicle. He clears his throat. “General … Farley,” he begins, “It’s no secret the Scarlet Guard possesses access over a railway network, too. It would be a great advantage to our alliance if we had the same means …,” he stops mid-sentence as he looks up from his papers and notices that Farley doesn’t even glance in his direction. She’s literally turning away from him, her fists clenched so tight her knuckles turn white.

I realize she’s never looked at him when he talked. Ptolemus gapes and searches the table for reassurance for a second. All he gets is the steely expression on his father’s face. He can only continue.

“General Farley, I, in the name of my father, ask you for the locations as well as a map of the Guard’s trains.”

Finally, Farley turns with a swift motion into an adamant demeanour. “No,” she answers with a vicious smile.

Ptolemus blinks. “May I remind you we agreed to cooperate to tumble Maven’s regime? Withholding information -”

“I can’t remember a promise of sharing all of our assets and intelligence,” she interrupts him sharply. Her smile has vanished and is exchanged for an icy glare.

She walks a thin line between displaying the smallest shred of diplomacy and her outright contempt for him. Maybe it’s not the best course of action, but I can’t help feeling a little proud of her.

Ptolemus touches the bridge of his nose. “You’re obstinate. General. After all, we’ve done our best to support and provide for your re – ah, soldiers – “

“You mean we poor Reds should be grateful that you finally grant us enough food and good lodgings?!” I erupt. “Oh, of course, we’re barely able to take care of ourselves, are we?”

Ptolemus’s confusion is quickly replaced by angry indignation. “Indeed, we …, ” he starts to explain himself before his face changes into a sneer. “What are you even doing her, Barrow? This is a congregation of nobles and officers.”

His jibe merely fuels me. I grin until my scars hurt and turn to the future king of Norta. “Tiberias, what do you say to that? And I not allowed to be here?”

The way his expression changes when our eyes meet nowadays has become familiar, and it’s both hurt and satisfaction for the two of us. One after the other, disbelief, rejoice and then disappointment rush over his face. Then he regains his princely appearance and declares, “Mare Barrow deserves to be here and is a welcome member of this committee. She stays, as long as she wishes.” His grandmother frowns at this while Tiberias loses his seriousness for a moment and gives me a tiny smile.

I feel the corners of my mouth twitching as well. I turn away quickly. By now Farley’s aggressive posture has relaxed a little, but she’s still tense. I know she’s proud of her position as a general, but it’s not easy for her. She’s new to the job, and with Townsend dead, she’s the only Command general of the Scarlet Guard present in Corvium. She has to make these important decisions on its behalf in this volatile alliance and I’m not sure how much information she’s been able to glean from the secretive Command so far.

“So, we’ll do nothing about the trains?” Ptolemus asks into the silence, not letting go of his idea.

There’s no answer until a chair scratches on the floor and Davidson stands up. “May you excuse my interruption, your Highness. We should keep this option in mind. Sirs, madams, I fear we’re over the scheduled time already. If there are no other urgent topics,” he smiles excessively friendly, “I think we should return to our tasks at hand.”

Murmurs and relief replace the tension at the table. A few people voice agreement while others can’t wait to get up. I’m one of them. 

I follow Farley when we leave the conference room. This time, she storms off. Anger fuels her and while I feel my own upset about Cal, I cling to her. I see Cameron joining us as well. She wasn’t in any of the meetings, but she comes with us nonetheless. She looks worried. Farley stops and turns when she notices her. She snorts.

“Cole,” she barks, “you were more right that I would’ve ever thought.”

Cameron nods gravely but Farley sighs when she looks at me. “Those Silvers will always be a pain in the ass. Why can’t that little Samos bastard be dead already!”

I flinch at the mention of Ptolemus and it doesn’t escape Farley’s keen eyes. “Mare? Don’t you agree?”

I want to nod, to shout, yes, I want to electrocute him by returning to the meeting room immediately. But my memory remains, the promise I made to Evangeline. I shouldn’t care about it, as they haven’t ever cared about me. But I’ve seen the love and despair in Evangeline’s eyes that day and whatever I think of Shade’s killer, the idea of revenge becomes a double-edged sword.

I want to see him dead, sometimes all of them. But where would that end?

Love – loss – and despair are the emotions that show on Farley’s face now as well. I should’ve realized before. She’s raged against Evangeline and her parents before, but they weren’t the cause of her anger. I overlooked how deliberately she avoided Ptolemus’s sight. Because she wants to see him dead and shredded as much as I did.

“I … let’s go to your room.” I spin my head to stress the need for privacy, and Farley seems to agree, reluctantly. Her fierce expression doesn’t lose intensity once we’re in. Cameron still tags along, both worried and curious.

I take a breath but it doesn’t help me face Farley when I say it. “Evangeline freed me in exchange for promising not to kill her brother.”

I glance at her from the corners of my eyes. Disbelief washes over her. “How could you …?” she whispers, barely audible.

I stop eschewing her. “Yeah, I had the same thought. But what choice did I have?!”

Farley winces and inclines her head in understanding. Yet her anger doesn’t vanish. She’s the one to look away now, her hands on her hips.

“Farley,” Cameron calls out finally. Just her voice seems to level the heated mood in the room for a moment. I wish she would go on, but Farley speaks again.

“Then I’ll have to kill him.”

I’m used to her determination and relentlessness, but her thirst for revenge unsettles me. I shouldn’t judge her, I shouldn’t discourage her, but I remember too well how powerless I felt next to the magnetrons during the six months of my imprisonment and a part of me fears for her, despite her prowess in battle.

“Farley,” Cameron says again. “There’s more than murder at stake.” Farley glances at her, then clears her throat and blinks.

Pretty words aren’t much aid with such pain and grief as hers - or mine. It still gnaws on her, and I know nothing to do but say, “Diana. You told me it’s better to live for something.” I don’t dare to be plainer because she deserves better than to be berated about being overeager and rash or uncaring about risking her life and leaving Clara as an orphan. She must know this herself, even if I feel the need to remind her.

She gapes at first, then laughs joylessly. “Right, who says I’d die? Or do anything rash? The Samos brat isn’t worth it.”

To my surprise, Cameron says, “I’d help you.”

To my greater surprise, I add, “I would as well.” Both turn their heads to me as my bad conscience kicks back in. Yet deep down, the urge for vengeance has never left me.

I shake my head. “The goal is to end Silver monarchies. So, I’ll finish Ptolemus Samos well before he ascends another throne.” I almost expect another dirty laugh but Farley remains quiet this time. She merely nods with her arms crossed. Cameron starts to leave and I’m about to follow her, but then Farley closes the distance between us - and hugs each of us. Cameron seems even more startled than I but her expression softens quickly. “I’m your friend,” she says. “And we’ll end it.”

I hear Farley’s heavy breathing while she embraces me and I wonder if she’s fighting tears, and how many times she’s fought them in her life already.

“I wished so often – “ she murmurs. “I thought the greater good is enough, but – how  could I ever explain to Clara that he lives?”

I stroke her back. “I know.”

The harmonic moment doesn’t last long. We let go and smile at each other. Grimly. Cameron mentions something about repairs to be made and rushes off. She has found something else to do, while her life as a techie has given her knowledge she uses of her own terms now. I want to leave as well, but I’m less sure where to go. I hesitate, fumbling for words, and make some random gestures as I moves to the door.

“Mare, wait,” Farley’s voice cuts through the room and I frown at her sudden change of tone, her amusement gone. I turn to her, but she doesn’t continue. Not yet. I wonder if she still plots against Ptolemus and can’t let go so easily.

“I’m sorry, Mare. I should’ve apologized long ago,” she says instead and I blink in confusion. Farley lowers her head but her eyes are focused on me, as intense as ever.

“I have – I’ve never given you a choice either. I’ve lied to you, and used you, and it’s time to stop acting innocent and righteous about this. We need to be honest.”

I feel myself plummeting into a hole, into dark times I’m not ready to face out of a sudden. I don’t want to think about what she might mean, but the memory of that moment on the Blackrun, when we screamed at each other with Shade’s corpse between us, shoves itself into my consciousness.

Farley comes closer to me. “Mare? I’m sorry to throw you off your guard like this. I mean … I should just say it.” Yet she hesitates and her hand faintly brushes my shoulder. I take several breaths. My vision blurs and clears again and I lift my head to her. I stare back, knowing I should listen to her and be done with it. It’ll never be easy. I can deal with it, then I can still yell at her.

Farley seems to understand my agreement. She nods. “You might’ve figured out that I always knew that Shade wasn’t dead …  back then.” She has to clear her throat at those words. “I used your grief and anger to motivate you to join the Guard.”

She’s right, I’ve figured this out long ago but I had much greater worries during that time. And what is the point now? Shade is still dead and I can’t regret joining the rebellion. I regret many things, but not that. I shake my head. “Yes, that was heartless, Farley. I didn’t need that motivation and Shade should’ve known that, too. Because you did meet him while I was Mareena, didn’t you?”

She blushes at my indication and her stance wavers slightly. “Indeed,” she confirms, “we should’ve realized. But have you never thought it could’ve been different? I could’ve gotten you out of the palace if I’d tried, if you’d asked.”

“Since when do we talk about lost chances? I haven’t asked because I thought I was doing the right thing.” I cackle. “You don’t have to pamper me.”

She sighs but doesn’t relax. She isn’t done yet. “But I’m still a liar. I didn’t notice immediately, but once I did, I felt too coward to bring this up. That you believed me when I requested that money for transporting you and Kilorn. But I was joking. I would’ve helped you anyway. For Shade.”

Again, I need a moment to process her words. I understand all that could’ve been avoided if she’d been more honest and plain. How different everything could’ve been, if Gisa’s hand was never injured? Despite my former dismissal, I feel my anger rise. My life hasn’t been my own for such a long time. Maybe never. I ’ve been a pawn shoved back and forth by players other than me. I think about how Maven was made, no, all of us, myself included. Will it never end?

I bat Farley’s chest so she has to step back. Tears run over my cheeks as I spit at her when I yell, “you’re such an awfully good actress, Diana Farley! Are you hoping to manipulate people so you’ll get what you want?”

She has the decency to lower her head, but that only lasts a moment. She isn’t afraid to face me, she never is. My rage already starts to calm as reason kicks in. I know why she did all that and that she’ll never stop fighting until we’ve won. But that can’t change the way betrayal feels.

“I know what I am and what I’ve done,” Farley admits. “But even when you shout at me and resent me for this, and feel down because of me, we both know that you deserve better than play pretend. You deserve the truth, especially now. And I don’t want to be your friend if I lie to you.” After these words, she turns away.

I move to her bed and sit down. I cover my eyes with my palms to stop the tears but of course it doesn’t work like that. I hear how Farley sits down next to me yet she doesn’t touch me or tries to comfort me in another way. Her presence has to be enough. Eventually, I uncover my eyes and see her open palm, outstretched like it’s an invitation. I take it and squeeze.

“I forgive you,” I say, as haughtily as possible with a tear-stained voice.

Farley squeezes back. “All of us have made mistakes and lost important things … and people. But while you and I and other rebels have fucked things up, not everything is our fault. In the end, it’s the Silvers who are guilty, and those are who we fight. We can’t forget that.” She sighs. “I’m just trying to be better.”

There’s grief in her voice. I realize how much she’s changed since I met her for the first time, how loss and love have shaped her anew. I suppose she wants to be a good leader, mother and friend. But I mourn how much pain she has suffered to grow to become a better person. And I know the same applies to me.

I lean against her. For the second time this day, we just hug and take comfort from each other. It relaxes me, calms me, but after a few minutes, I realize this isn’t enough. There’s still too much frustration boiling inside of me and I long for activity. I let go of her, rise and walk to the door.

“Where are you going?” Farley stands up as well and goes after me. I don’t turn to her.

“Do you intend to follow me all day now?”

She comes closer until I see her crossing her arms from the corner of my eyes. “Do you want to be alone?”

What do I want?

To see Maven’s corpse and I know I no longer have to fear him.

To slap Tiberias – Cal, and yell at him for his mistakes, half-heartedness and lack of compassion until he kneels before me in submission.

To have Cal kiss me, hug me, touch me, fuck me, until I’m burning inside and feel only love and passion instead of despair.

Or I just want to go out, grab Ella and have her teach me how to make a storm huge enough so I’ll feel nothing but its voltage and the electric current coursing through me.

Finally, I turn to Farley. “I’m going to train with Ella.”

She cocks her head yet abstains from the obvious reply, wondering if I’m not too keyed up to use my ability. What else should I do? Training, or just running, is the best way to calm me down. Physical exercise is the only thing that makes me sleep at night when I slowly get used to being alone again.

Before I say anything else, Farley gives me an encouraging smile. “I’ve nothing else to do. I’m coming with you.”

The gym is buzzing with excitement when we arrive. I make out General Akkadi fighting once more on the sparring grounds.

She has it harder today. Her movements to dodge her opponent’s attacks are slower, as if this duel has lasted for some time. Or the opponent is just stronger and more vicious because - to my astonishment - she’s fighting Evangeline.

I wince. I’ve no idea how she escaped her family and their Silver cronies and got past our soldiers patrolling these quarters. The crowd doesn’t seem to mind and watches in awe. It’s really the end of the duel. Akkadi closes the distance to Evangeline despite the metal shards hurled into the air. Akkadi snatches one of them and holds it against Evangeline’s bare throat while she punches her gut.

Evangeline stumbles despite her armour and Akkadi just turns and says, “I win,” as she leaves the ring. She sees Farley and me, grins, and greets us.

“General Farley, have I told you about my son yet?” I hear her say behind me because I find myself walking to the ring where Evangeline remains standing.

“Do you have the power for another duel in you, Princess?” I say. 

A/N: IDK if I can say this at another point, so I explain here. Akkadi has a teenage son who currently lives with her ex-husband. They’re co-parents and the son a Newblood too, a swift, and Akkadi thinks Farley would like to know about stuff like that. 

And I finally brought Saraline from Steel Scars back into the story.

@universegamer @clarafarleybarrow @mikey-waysjawline @redqueenfandom @xsonnydelavegax @wrenskonos @maudthebookeater @mayamalfoy @asewhj @clara-farl3y @tiygreen37 @maven-notmyking @a-gods-cursed @acourtofmareandcal @burnersbetrayal @didmavenkillyou--metoo

[naughtyneganjdm]

A Second Chance - Chapter 6

Summary: Max has a bad morning and has his feelings for Juliet come back to haunt him.

Characters: Max, Reader (OC) & Juliet

Warnings: Obsessive Thoughts, Stalking, Blood & Swearing

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10357635/chapters/24974430

Tags: @jasoncrouse @ronweaselz @hiddlesdowneyjr @ali-pennell @melodicdolls @namelesslosers @deepsouth @shanaatjelove11 @warriorqueen1991 @caitydestroys @acklesdowneyandhiddles-ohmy @jaylaelizabethw @prettyepiic @negans-dirty-girl @mamaredd123 @jdmsgal @alyisdead @memphisgirl1977 @xnegansgirlx @dontblink94 @freaktesque @crzcorgi @jaylaelizabethw @jmackie1983 @hughxjackman @deadlymistress24  @babyblues915 @fxcking-negan @keithmoonmoon​ @fvshvncvnt @*As always, please let me know if you want to be added to the tags or if you wanted to be taken off!*

Pacing back and forth in his room, Max could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He looked to the time and let out a stressed sound as he thought about the last few days. There was part of him that wanted to call Y/N, but there was another part of him that wanted to go back to his old ways knowing that this was the time that Juliet typically got up and ready. Last night when he came home and saw Juliet leaving, Max found himself still heavily charmed with her. He knew that it was wrong for him and that things went very wrong with her as it was, but he couldn’t help finding himself still absolutely enamored with her. Maybe it was the interaction he had with August earlier in the morning, but Max was feeling really down on himself today. When he had tried to give August his medicine, August verbally attacked him. August called him names and called him a weak man. It was almost like his grandfather knew when life was at the hardest and knew when to push him to his breaking point. Max was on the edge and hurt. It was two things that he never really handled well. He knew that Y/N told him that the words from others should never hurt him, but he was too upset to even try to think past what his grandfather said. If your own family didn’t love you, then who the hell else would? That was his thoughts at least. August was his blood and he was supposed to love him, but he didn’t and deep down that tore Max apart. It was a bad habit, but when Max was upset he often thought about things that would get his mind off his life. His past and his present. The one that seemed to keep toying in his mind was both Juliet and Y/N. The only thing was, Juliet was closer at the time and that was the thing he couldn’t seem to get his mind off of. Maybe there was enough time in the day to focus on both the women in his life. Juliet was so close and maybe afterward he would get to maybe get the chance to call Y/N to talk about things. Quickly moving through the building, Max snuck into the maintenance area behind the walls. It had become his safe spot. It had become the place in his life that he had grown accustomed to and where he felt the most comfortable. He knew that it was wrong to spy on people, but it was the one way he felt accepted into someone’s life without having to be around them. He always had social issues and by being able to spy on others, it felt like he was taking part in their lives, even when he really wasn’t and that seemed to comfort him. Moving to the area closest to Juliet’s apartment, he moved carefully because he knew that she would be up and about. The slightest sound could set someone off and he knew how capable it was behind the walls to have someone hear him. Pushing things aside quietly, he moved as careful as possible and tried to look into her apartment. It took him several tries until he finally saw her in her bedroom. Gulping down, he peered into the hole trying to see her move clearly. She was standing near her dresser in just her bra and he could feel a lump growing at the bottom of his throat. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about her that still drove him crazy and Max couldn’t quite put his finger on it. When she pulled out a shirt and pulled it down her body, he could see her reaching for her things and he moved to the next part of her apartment where he could watch her. When he saw her grabbing her things and walking toward her door to leave, he scrambled to his feet and made his way out from behind the walls. Quickly moving through his apartment, he made sure that August was still sleeping before moving out after Juliet. He was thankful that when he made it down the stairs that Juliet was just getting out of the elevator. Waiting behind, he made sure that she didn’t spot him before he followed her down the street. Always making sure to keep far enough of space between the two of them so she didn’t realize that he was following her. By now Max had already figured out her morning routines and knew that she would be headed to her favorite local coffee shop. It was one that he had grown accustomed to going. Y/N had taken him there the other night and he knew that Juliet made her stop there every morning. Following her closely, Max watched Juliet as she ordered her drink and he cautiously moved into the shop with her. He didn’t know how to approach her. It had been a few days since their last encounter and they hadn’t spoken since it happened. It probably wasn’t a good thing to almost sleep with someone and then just up and disappear. Then again, she never attempted to contact him either. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but how would he even begin to approach her? He didn’t want Juliet knowing that he had been watching her and following her. Then again, if he acted just as surprised as she did to see him, then maybe it would be alright. Hell, they lived in the same place, it would make sense that they both went to the same coffee shop. Stepping forward, he could see Juliet’s dark eyes meet his and she seemed nervous at first before offering up a smile. “Hey,” she spoke out and Max could feel his heart flutter. He knew that he should have let his emotions for her go, but as she smiled out at him, he couldn’t help feeling the way he did. There was always something so charming about her nervousness. It was like she was almost as awkward as he was with being social. She was sweet, smart and just…very nervous and that appealed to him. At times he thought that maybe she was more like him than he even knew. Watching her like he did made him realize that they were more alike than he could have ever imagined. He knew that he should have let things go with her, but there was something so deeply that attracted him to her. Maybe it was the fact that she was a doctor that helped people. She took care of those that needed it and Max wanted that so deeply. Someone to take care of him when he was down and hurt. There was just something about Juliet that he wanted to capture in his life. Have her be with him. “Hey,” he repeated tipping in to press a soft kiss over the side of her face. He wanted to say so much to her, say things that he knew would change things between the two of them, but he was worried that if he was honest with her about how he felt for her, that he would scare her. “Uhm, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” “Yeah,” she cut him off and he could feel his cheeks blushing over when she spoke. “Look I’m sorry it suddenly felt weird. It had nothing to do with you, I just…I need more time.” “It’s okay, you know that tells me that you take being with someone seriously and I like that,” he smiled brightly when he heard the words she said. She needed more time. She didn’t say that she didn’t want him at all. It excited him more than she could ever imagine, but panic started to set in. When she said nothing more after his comment, he pushed his hands into his pockets and began to stammer. Maybe she didn’t mean it the way that he took it. Then things started to twist in his mind. If she wanted to be with him, she would have just come out and said it right? “But I was thinking about it and maybe we shouldn’t have done that. You know, uhm, being that we live in the same building and all.” “Really?” she seemed shocked and he could tell that his words brought relief. Of course he didn’t mean it. He was just telling her what he thought she wanted to hear after her silence. Maybe he was testing the waters to see if she actually still wanted to attempt things with him, but when excitement pressed in over her features he could feel himself starting to ramble again. He was disappointed and sad. What he felt for Juliet seemed one sided and the more that she spoke it felt like she thought the things that went on were a mistake. “No offense, I just needed company I guess,” Max replied and he truly found that to be the understatement of the year. After being alone for so long, he just wanted to someone to want him and be there for him. Juliet was the first person that sparked his interest in a long time and he just wished that she could see him the way that he saw her. He saw someone amazing. Someone that he could spend his life with and change for. He just wished that she would have given him that shot to be the person he knew that he could have been for her. “I’m so glad you feel the same way,” her words came out like bricks when he realized that she thought what happened between them was a mistake. Gulping down, he bit into his bottom lip and nodded. This whole time he told himself that it would turn out like this, but he hoped that he was wrong. Max hoped that Juliet might have been different than what he expected her to be. “I just…it’s meant a lot to me the last couple of weeks.” Max nodded and watched her closely. Inside he was crushed. He had nothing more to say as he looked her over. He wished he had something charming to say, but all he could feel was pain. The ache from being turned down yet again from someone else was too much for him. The last few weeks meant more to him than she would have ever began to imagine. A few weeks for her were a few months for him. When he had seen her in the hospital when he was with August, he so deeply wanted to approach her, but couldn’t. When he saw her flyer, he thought it was the perfect opportunity. He thought it was a sign, but once again the world was fucking with him. “Well, I should go…I…” she still seemed uncomfortable as he nodded. “I’ll see you.” “Yeah, have a nice day,” Max spoke up almost sadly, not like she noticed as she passed around him. The fact that she confirmed that what happened between them was nothing more than a mistake hurt. It felt like she was desperate to get away from him and that really dug the knife in deeper. He didn’t force her to be around him as hard as he would have liked. When she threw herself at him, he thought it was perfect, but now that she didn’t want to even be around him…it really crushed his heart. It was clear that she didn’t feel for him the way he felt for her and it really put a strain in his mind and body. He thought that by putting the idea that they shouldn’t put forward anything into the relationship that she might fight for it. Tell him it was worth trying again, but she folded so easily it showed that their time together meant nothing. It was just a mistake to her and it really bothered him. He saw so much more in it and the fact she didn’t even remotely feel for him the way he felt for her destroyed him. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he squeezed his fingers into a tight fist at his right side. Looking to the coffee, he now regretted coming here. This was an awful start to the day. First his fight with August and now this. What else could go wrong? “Y/N,” Max gasped when he turned on his heel and let out a tight breath when he realized that she was standing behind him in the coffee shop. Clinging to his coffee, he let out a nervous sound and could see her staring out at him with her bright eyes. It almost looked like she regretted being there and he could feel his heart start to race in his chest. Her eyes looked away from him nervously and he felt panicked again. “How long have you been here?” “Oh, uh…” she was stuck on her words and Max could tell that by her reaction that she clearly saw his interaction with Juliet. Suddenly feeling a sense of worry rushing through him, he attempted to move in to kiss her only to feel her turn her head and he kissed her on the cheek. Gulping down heavily, he could feel the lump in the center of his throat grow larger as he moved away slowly. Shit, she was mad at him and he could tell. She lived so damn close as well. He had come here with Y/N in the past; he should have known that it was possible she would show up. “So that was Juliet, huh?” “Yeah,” he nodded feeling his throat go dry. He wanted to say something to make the moment better, but he didn’t know what to say. Looking down to the ground, he stuttered a bit and never really made out any clear words before huffing heavily. Nodding toward the door, he could see her eyes shift and he shrugged. “Maybe we can go talk outside for a moment?” “Yeah,” Y/N seemed uncomfortable when Max put his hand in over the center of her back to lead her toward the door outside. He cleared his throat again as he began to speak when they moved for the small garden that was across the street. “Listen, that wasn’t what it looked like in there.” “It looked like you were someone that was absolutely head over heels in love with a girl,” she responded with a sigh as Max frowned when she spoke the words. She wasn’t exactly wrong. She clung to the bag that was at her side and he could see she was sad with what down. This was a look he never saw on her from the first day he met her. She was always so light and bubbly. “And when she turned you down, it looked like you were crushed. I’ve been able to read your emotions since day one Max, don’t try denying that.” “Alright,” Max muttered almost in a whisper and he could see her pushing her fingertips throughout her long hair. She was right; there was no lying to her. He was never able to do it thus far, so there was no attempting it now. “I just…” “Clearly yesterday was a mistake. You were upset about a girl and I was there being nice to you. I knew from day one that you were in love with this girl, so expecting anything beyond a friendship was wrong on my part,” Y/N spoke up and he could feel a rush throughout his veins. Shaking his head, he tried to move forward, but she held her hands up to block him from moving closer. “No, I get it. I’m a rebound person and I was really only meant to be your friend in the first place.” “Whoa, hey. Hold on,” Max tried to stop her from continuing on with her words and he shook his head. “That’s not true. Yes, I like Juliet. I have this…feeling for her that I haven’t been able to shake, but you aren’t the rebound. I like you. I like you a lot. Everything I’ve said to you isn’t a lie. I’m not someone who kisses first. I wait because I’m always afraid that the person I care about won’t feel the same, but last night I kissed you first. What we had was special. I wouldn’t take those moments back for anything.” “If they were special, then why are you still trying to get Juliet to notice you and want you?” she questioned him and he felt very guilty suddenly. He had a perfect night last night and she was absolutely right. There was no reason for him to attempt what he just did when he had an amazing evening with her. “I get it Max, don’t worry about it.” “Listen, when I kiss you…” Max tried to reach out to stop her when she walked away. When she kept walking, he grasped her wrist roughly and pulled her back to him. A wince escaped her lips at the pressure he had on her wrist and he pulled his hand away, giving her an apologetic look. “What I feel with you is different than what I feel for her. I’m happy when I’m with you. When you kiss me, I feel things I’ve never felt in my life Y/N. You make me feel things that I’ve never thought were possible.” “But it still wasn’t enough,” she pointed out and he could feel his throat tensing. He had no idea what to say to make her believe him, but he knew he just messed up really bad. “If it made you happy, if I truly made you happy, you wouldn’t be in search for something more with Juliet. When you were in front of her, I didn’t even exist Max and that’s not the kind of person that I can be with. I was the stupid one for crushing on you and flirting with you. You picked up on my flirting and it just started something that was nice while it lasted, but now I think we both realize that the relationship is very unrealistic. I’m just meant to be your friend and that’s it.” “No. I don’t think of it like that,” Max stammered trying to reach out to her, but she wouldn’t let him touch her. “Can we just go somewhere to talk? Hang out for a while and just talk things over calmly?” “I don’t have time Max,” she shook her head and he could see that she was avoiding eye contact with him. He tried to plead with her, but she was having none of it. “I had a really shitty morning, okay? I was giving August his medicine and he said some really nasty things about me. Called me weak and said things about my father,” Max’s voice cracked and he could see her upset eyes meeting his. He threw his hands up and tried to play out what happened in his head. “I was upset and I wasn’t thinking right. I started thinking like I did before I started talking to you and I just…I was really upset. Juliet was there and I was just thinking about how much I thought she would make me happy in the past. If the thing with August…” “Max, we can blame a lot on your grandfather because let’s be honest, the man is an asshole,” Y/N snapped and Max could feel his jaw tensing tightly. She was very right and it didn’t bother him that she said it, it bothered him that he knew it wasn’t going to be very positive with what she said next. “But we can’t blame him for you still being in love with someone. I’m sorry he was mean to you Max, but that doesn’t change things here. If I was important, if I was the one you wanted to move forward with, that moment right there wouldn’t have just happened.” “I’m begging you to please just take a moment and sit with me. We can talk about things,” Max begged only to see her stepping backwards and away from him. He felt his body trembling slightly when he felt her pulling away from. “Y/N, please?” “I have to go home and get ready for work. I have two jobs that need to be done today Max,” Y/N answered and he frowned when she denied him the chance. “We can still be friends, don’t worry though, we can just pretend that what happened the other night, didn’t.” “I don’t want to pretend that it didn’t happen,” Max called out as he watched her start to walk back in the direction of her home. Max stood there frozen. He didn’t know how to handle normal situations, let alone ones like this. “Please…I’m sorry.” Y/N kept walking and Max could feel an ache in his chest. That was two women that denied him today. One was someone who clearly didn’t care for him and the other was one that cared for him greatly, but he hurt because he was too blind to see a good thing when it was right there in front of him. In the situation he was in now, he wasn’t sure how to even respond other than to go into his dark ways. He needed to make a choice and he needed to make one fast.

---------

Standing outside of Y/N’s apartment, Max could feel his chest rising and falling as he waited. When she took off on him, Max did the one thing that he knew that he was good at. He followed her. He didn’t know how to approach her or what to even say, but he knew that he had to talk to her. When she hadn’t come out, he had begun to wonder if she had lied to him about having a job to do today. Stepping in closer to the doors of her apartment building, he looked inside to see one of her neighbors moving down the stairs. Stepping aside quickly, he knelt down to act like he was tying his shoe. He waited long enough for the guy to leave the building and he quickly stumbled for the door before it closed. Pushing it open, he moved up the steps toward her apartment and took a long down the hallway. It was empty and as he approached the door of her apartment, he heard the sound of the handle starting to wiggle and he quickly moved back toward the opposite hallway. Quickly hiding himself, he watched Y/N carrying some things out of her apartment and gulped down as he watched her closely. He watched her start to move toward the stairs to leave, but heard her cuss out and drop the things that she was carrying. She searched her body for something before looking over her shoulder. Max quickly hid himself, hoping that she wasn’t able to see him and when he looked back carefully he could see that she was messing with the decorative plant in the hallway. She was pushing in the pot and Max’s nose wrinkled as he watched her. A smirk pressed in over the corners of his lips when he saw her pull out a key and watched her walk over toward her door to open it. Soon after, she came back out with her keys that she clearly had originally forgotten before heading back to the plant to place the spare key back where it was. When he heard her steps heading down the stairs, he moved forward and looked at the plant. Part of him wanted to grab that key and go into her room. Actually everything in his body wanted to do that, but when he heard her steps getting fainter, he knew that he actually wanted to follow her. See what she was doing today. He knew that he had things that he was supposed to get done at his apartment building, but when she told him off this morning, it really made him realize how desperate he actually was to keep her in his life the way that they were headed for before he messed it up. Quickly moving down the stairs, he waited at one of the landings to make sure she had left the building before he took off after her. He kept a good distance between the two of them. He knew that Y/N was perceptive and would be able to catch onto him if he didn’t stay far back enough. When he saw her stop at a park, he paused on the sidewalk and took a look around. Obviously, he couldn’t follow her into the small park. She would spot him in an instant. Taking a look at the buildings, he spotted a small coffee shop and decided that he would hang out there to watch her. It was the safest spot to keep hidden so she couldn’t spot him. It was right across the street, but he thought it would be far enough away that it would definitely be the best spot to spy on her.

It seemed like she was setting up for a photo shoot as he took a seat near one of the windows to watch her. Biting into his bottom lip, he tapped his fingers against the top of the table while he watched her take photos of a couple. He assumed that it was for an engagement of some kind and while she looked happy, he could tell that what happened from this morning was still weighing in over her. Usually she had a lot more energy to her, but she was lagging today and he could see it. Maybe it was because he had grown to being around her and knowing her energy, but he could tell that she was faking her excited actions. He should have felt awful for what happened earlier, but he really didn’t. Yeah, he felt guilty, but the fact that he could upset her that much over what happened this morning meant that she really felt for him. Her affection for him wasn’t fake. It wasn’t just a moment like Juliet had been. She genuinely cared about Max and the fact he could hurt her meant that her compassion for him was real. When she started packing up, he carefully got up from the table and moved outside of the coffee shop. He waited in one of the alleyways watching her closely as she grabbed her things. The sun was starting to set and he knew that she said she had two jobs to do today.

Following her closely when he had seen her head off in the other direction. He stopped when he watched her go into a club. The bouncer let her in and he let out an angered sound. Max was not very social. He hated going into busy places and doing things that was out of his comfort zone, but he knew that he wanted to follow her. To watch her and learn what she was doing. “You’re lucky you’re here early man, big event tonight,” the bouncer at the door handed Max one of the flyers and Max let out a disgusted noise. Great. Big event meant lots of people. Just the kind of thing that Max hated. Walking into the club, he held his hand up when he found himself blinded by the flashing lights that were around him.

It had been a very long time since he had been in place like this and he almost regretted coming in. That was until he spotted Y/N setting things up near the stage at the front of the club. Heading for the bar, Max took a seat at the far end to keep himself hidden from her. He ordered a drink and just stayed there. His eyes never left her. She seemed a bit stressed with all the work she had to do during the set up and as the night got later, the bouncer was right. It was a very, very busy night. It was hard to keep a watch on her as she clearly took photos of the event and the band that was playing. It must have been a popular group, but it was definitely one that Max had no idea of. Then again, he wasn’t very good with popular culture. “Shit…” Max stood up from the bar and looked around the crowded club as people danced. Pushing himself into the crowd, he realized that he had lost sight of Y/N. His eyebrow arched up as he could feel his heart racing. Quickly pushing himself further into the crowd, he could feel people all around him shoving at his body and he could feel the room around him closing. So many people around him, shoving into him and the loud music caused him to gasp for air. He hated places like this. Quickly pushing through the crowd, he looked for the quickest empty area and stumbled to get to it. It was hard to breathe, his heart was hammering and it felt like he was close to passing out. He was having a panic attack and he could feel it. His body felt like it was about to shut down. His heart hammered, the room spun around him and his whole body felt like jelly. It had been so long since had a full blown panic attack from his social anxiety, but as he stumbled for the table before him, he knew it was hitting him hard. Clutching onto the nearest table that he reached, he tried inhaling deeply to relax himself. Maybe it was time to just give up. He could feel his hands trembling and his eyes shifted uncomfortably. The loud music, the amount of people and the general feel of the club just made him extremely uncomfortable. Everything about this place was against everything that he was. Giving the area one final look over, he could see Y/N in the hallway leading toward the back of the stage standing on the ramp to get a better photo of the band and the people there. Gulping down, he felt a rush of courage flooding into his body and he quickly moved in her direction. The music was too loud for her to realize he was there as he moved in behind her. Hooking his arm around her waist, he pulled her back toward him and tugged her further up the ramp until they were in a private area of the hallway. Her body flailed against him as he pushed her firmly against the wall and he moved forward to press his lips heavily against hers. Her hand smacked at the center of his chest thinking that it was a stranger that had come up on her and when she realized it was Max, she pulled away and stared out at him with a confused expression. The sounds of the club were slightly muffled out while the two of them were together in the small hallway. “What the hell Max?” she blurted out, carefully setting her camera down on the ground before turning to him. Without further warning, Max slammed her against the wall again, causing a whimper to escape her lips before he was back at kissing her. His lips pressed in over hers again and again clearly hoping to elicit some kind of emotion in her after what happened this morning. A moan escaped her lips when he squeezed in over her sides firmly. Her mouth involuntarily opened to his as he pushed his tongue within her warmth. His kiss fooled her for a moment before she clearly got her thoughts back together. Her hands pressed in over his shoulders as she pushed him back and shook her head. “Did you follow me here?” “Follow you here?” Max muttered with a laugh when he thought of a reason he would know that she would be there. Shit. She was starting to catch onto his ways as he reached up to cup her jaw in his large palms and he shook his head. “I was in your apartment the other day. When you were in the shower I was looking around and saw…” “The calendar on the fridge,” she responded with a heavy sigh and Max nodded. She gave him a way out without him even having to try hard. She let out a noise showing that she felt stupid for accusing him of following her. Max moved into kiss her again and she pulled away from him. “What the hell are you doing here?” “Listen, I couldn’t end things the way that they did this morning,” Max began, his hands reaching out to cup her hips in his hands, squeezing at them tightly. He pulled her in closer to him and watched her shocked eyes staring out at him. “I came here; even though it’s against everything I am to find you. I can’t have you thinking that you are just a rebound Y/N. I care about you more than you will ever begin to know and…” “Max, I’m working,” she shut him down, pushing her hand into the center of his chest and his hazel eyes stared out at her with a saddened look. She firmly pushed into the center of his chest again, making him stumble back and toss his hands up in a confused manner. “I can’t do this right now. I have a job that I could get fired for because of this.” “Just wait,” Max tried to pull her hand to him and she pulled away from him with an angered breath. “Y/N, please?” “I just hope that I won’t get fired if someone saw this Max,” she let out another angered grunt before stomping off in the other direction and Max could feel an ache in his chest growing.

Slumping down, he brushed his fingers into his hair and let out an angered breath. Looking to the exit sign just down the hallway, he quickly got up and moved in that direction. Kicking his foot firmly into the door, he heard it slam open with a thud and he walked out into the alleyway.

Pacing back and forth, he let out an angry hiss before turning and kicking into the garbage cans in front of him. His body was tense, his mind running wild as he could feel the sense of rejection that he had grown accustomed to filling his body. He felt extreme rage and he didn’t know how to get rid of it. Moving down the alleyway, he spotted a building that seemed abandoned. Looking at the reflection of himself in the window, he felt the anger at seeing his own face. This was all of his own fucking fault and he never hated himself more than he did right now. It felt like everything was swallowing in closer to him and he felt a rage filling his body as he looked at his reflection. All of it seemed to build up inside of his head causing him to lash out as he swung his fist into the window. The hit was hard enough to make the glass shatter and he pulled his hand back to see that it was dripping with blood. The breaking of the glass clearly cut him, but he didn’t care. Looking around the alleyway, he made sure that he was alone before looking to his hand again. Squeezing it tightly, he watched a long line of blood drip from his hand and he huffed heavily. What he had just done with Y/N was totally against everything that he was and she still turned him down. He thought that if she knew he did it for her that she would forgive him, knowing the kind of person that he was and that wasn’t even close to what happened. She turned him down and she turned him down hard.

---------

Sitting in the empty apartment, Max looked to his hand that he had wrapped up. It wasn’t wrapped very well and the blood was soaking through it. It was a shit fix job on his end, but he really didn’t care. An angered breath escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around his legs.

Rocking his body back and forth where he was seated in the corner of apartment, he could still feel his mind running wild. All night he had been up thinking about the things that had happened. It was now far into the morning and he was sitting in the apartment that he was currently renovating. Plastic was thrown out on the floor because he was supposed to be painting today, but he couldn’t find himself even ready to start. All the supplies were ready, but he couldn’t find the energy to get over his thoughts. Never in his life had he been turned away several times in one day and he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Yesterday was just a very overall shitty day. One that really messed him up.

The sound of a knocking at the door seemed to pull him from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw the door slowly being pushed open and he let out a heavy breath when he saw Y/N standing in the doorway. He perked up and could feel the muscles in his face relaxing when he saw her stepping into the apartment with him. “Hey,” she spoke softly and Max quickly got to his feet, brushing off the dust that had accumulated on his clothes. Staring out at her with a confused expression, he watched her closing the door behind her and he didn’t know how to respond. “I went to your apartment and I talked to an older gentleman that told me you were in here. I’m guessing it was your grandfather and he thought I was a bill collector. Probably why he was eager to send me to you.” Max nodded and tilted his head to the side. He gulped down heavily. He didn’t even know how to respond to her. “Listen, I was wrong with the way I acted last night. I know that you hate big groups of people and you have social anxiety. It was a big thing for you to come out to me to try and apologize last night. I should have thought about that,” she began with a heavy sigh and Max could feel the tension in his chest loosening as he watched her closely. “I was still upset and I was distracted with work. It was one of the first bigger paying jobs that I have gotten since I’ve been here. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did.” “I understand, I shouldn’t have bothered you at work,” Max finally muttered with a frown. He shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the ground. He kicked slightly at the plastic that was put down on the wooden floor and shrugged. “You don’t have to apologize. I fucked up pretty bad yesterday.” “No, I do have to apologize. You didn’t deserve that. I got jealous and I acted like a child,” she moved in closer to the center of the room they were in and she folded her arms out in front of her chest. Her bright eyes stared out at him as he gulped down. “I care about you Max, a lot. More than I should because I knew that when we became friends that you were broken and needed a friend to be there for you. You were in love with someone and I knew that. I’m sorry that I let our relationship get…” “I care about you too,” Max blurted out with an uneasy breath. He reached up to caress his hand over his rough stubble and he shrugged his shoulders. “Y/N, yeah, I feel something for Juliet, but only because I’ve been…for lack of a better term, obsessed for quite some time. I should have been thinking clearer and I wasn’t. I lost track of the way that I felt the day before. You made me feel happiness for the first time in a very long time. I’ve never had a day where I felt happy throughout most of it. Typical days for me are quite awful. I mean, they are really bad. So when I was with you, I had never had a day where I could just relax and be…happy. With you, I have that. Yesterday, when you were upset with you…I don’t know if I’ve ever been that miserable. When you wouldn’t talk to me, I was just…I was miserable.” “Tell me you didn’t do that because of me,” she begged when she finally saw his right hand that was wrapped in the white bandage. He sighed heavily and looked down at his hand that had small drips of blood falling onto the plastic covering the floor. She moved across the room and looked down at his hand, taking the bandage and pulled it from his hand. Looking down at the gash over the inside of his palm, she let out a gasp and shook her head. “Max, what the hell?” “The best thing you could do for yourself right now is turn around and walk out those doors,” Max’s voice cracked as he felt her holding his hand in hers. His voice was broken and he could feel his body trembling when she traced over his rough hand. “I’m a monster Y/N. I will only upset you like I did last night. If not worse. I get angry, I get obsessive and I hurt myself when I’m upset. If you want to avoid that kind of life, I think the best thing that can happen between the two of is that you walk out that door and never look back. You should not be the one coming in to apologize to me. It should be the opposite way and you are way too good to be part of my life. I think the best thing you could do right now is just leave and forget that you ever met me.” “Is that really what you think?” she frowned, looking up at him with her saddened eyes. His eyes were red and she could tell that by his expression, he really believed everything that he said. Reaching out, she pressed her hand in over his stubble covered face and caressed it softly. He leaned into her touch and let out a trembling sigh and she shook her head. “It only tells me more how much you really need me in your life.” Max bit into his bottom lip as he watched her sigh before tipping up to meet his lips in a soft kiss and he breathed heavily against her lips when she pulled away. Max could feel her hands clutching at the side of his shoulders before reaching up to brush into his hair. “It’s going to take a lot more than everything that’s happened to get rid of me,” she insisted with a small smile as he leaned in to press his forehead against hers. He could feel his body trembling as she caressed her fingertips against his scalp in a calming manner. “I care about you Max and I don’t give up so easily on the people I care about.” “You should, I’m not worth it,” he sighed heavily and felt her moving into press another kiss against his lips. It was a very sweet, small kiss, but it was enough to make him let out a confused breath. “I’m really not. You deserve better than me in your life.”

“No. No I don’t. You are good,” she hushed him and she could feel his good hand reaching up to press in over hers. He looked down toward the ground and she urged him to meet her glance. “I’m sorry about last night. I promise not to get as mad at you as I did. I wasn’t thinking right and I know that you can’t be alone to your thoughts. You are never going to be alone Max. I’m going to be here for you no matter what. You understand me?”

“But I don’t deserve that,” Max insisted with a heavy sigh, feeling the ache that carried over him. His thoughts all night long had been miserable and yet she was still here for him saying these things. “I don’t think very highly of myself.” “Then we need to work on you, so you can start seeing the person that you can be,” she pulled away from him and looked down at his hand. She frowned when she looked to see the wound was still bleeding pretty good. “I think you are going to have to get this looked at Max.” “I’m alright,” Max assured her with a frown and she wrapped her palm around his wrist, tugging him toward the door. “Y/N, no.” “I have a friend that is a nurse. I think you need to get stitches on that and I’m not taking no for an answer,” she pulled him into the hallway and he quickly locked up the room. Looking over his shoulder, Max could see that his grandfather was standing in the hallway watching them as Y/N tugged him toward the stairs. He could see the look that his grandfather shot him and he knew the words that August was saying in his mind. Feeling the tug of Y/N’s hand over his arm, he brushed off the idea of his grandfather off and followed her down the winding staircase of his building. “In order to get this thing going between us, we have to start fixing things. Starting with this hand of yours.”

[nicolesqueloquence]

So it dawned on me.. yesterday. At dawn.

That there’s this cliche little conspiracy thing for us in our mid-20’s that 25 is THE worst age, ever.

And while I can attest to 2017 so far being more ambivalent in its extent of BS compared to others (2009, 2012, 2015?!!?!?)….

I have to say that I agree, and I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel with 26.

Suddenly I saw the last ten years weave itself around my mind, counting all of the victories and tragedies and it made way too much sense.

Of course I’m lost right now, as any child byproduct of the dysfunctional American household is going to be. I’m a fucking millennial inheriting nothing but a broken economy and a bullseye painted on my back for everything from financial ruin, emotional self-destruction, and potential kidnapping to a terrorist attack, psychopath killer from my past, and potential Armageddon as we may know it soon.

I think, a lot of other people would feel pretty fucking lost, anxious, and depressed too.

And for the most part, I don’t feel that bad. Maybe it’s my meds zombifying me, maybe it’s just blind optimism because I’ve been too drained of the energy to feel anything stronger than that, or maybe since everything passes- that includes all the negative stuff too.

But I’m fine. I’m on my way to better. I’m almost there. For the first time, I kinda feel it.

26 sounds like a paradise, in fact. And I’m one that HATES getting older. HATES my birthday. I break down. I relapse. I turn into a human tornado of self-destruction. It’s bad, like Marilyn Monroe level of bad.

But not this year. I’m building an empire for myself, just like I have for the past ten years even if I keep breaking it down like the U.S. did to their own towers (oops).

What I did for myself in the midst of all the chaos and ruin was established myself as a writer. I found my words, or they found me, and then they found themselves on paper. Whether it was some mediocre essay project that my teachers inevitably A’d and hailed me for, or my Dragonball Z fanfiction that I still fuck with but with a lot of intermittent adult absences due to my grown up writer’s block from all the imagination that’s left me in my dry and cynical 20’s.

I also got published in both UNLV and my high school’s newspapers. Luckily these are the first things to come up with a google of my full name, and not any mug shots or crazy things like that because those things can stay in the MF past okay.

This is all while my parents divorced, my mom dated and remarried, and I got exiled to my dad’s place all the way across town to another high school- effectively killing the dead end that way my destructive social life at the other school, which was somewhat of a great thing and a terrible thing. I didn’t have people fueling my already turbulent home life with more drugs and alcohol, but then I didn’t have anybody at all either unless they existed in the chat room I dominated as a teenager.

Ahhhh, yes. I will always be proud of such a minuscule feat, with my social anxiety establishing itself and all, because I came up with the MOST LIT AF nicknames. Nikkachu, VenerealCereal, and my very first, Lovily_Lili17- my daughter’s name that I discovered at 13.

Oh yeah. That too. READING. I couldn’t stop. I was addicted to those huge adult novellas like Lace, Where the Heart Is, and anything Stephen King once I had my way with R.L. Stine and his many endeavors to placate his teen base.

Wow. The nostalgia. I can’t.

I still have almost every book from that era. I went and bought a ton of them off of Amazon, but I’ll have to replace some that arrived less than the library form that I originally read them in. I can’t do paperback, they’re much too small.

But that library smell.. My favourite is the one by my mother’s house, where I looked down at my Converse at 12 years old and realized that I was becoming a woman already.

HAHA. Seriously. 12. A woman. Okay.

That moment was just me feeling myself because I had a lot of older male fans that I’m quite sure held a rap sheet for child-related sex crimes, okay.

In that moment, I felt sheer power. My dying self-esteem that had wilted from years of verbal abuse and a total lack of male attention minus that of bullying was suddenly blossoming from the attention I would get from old men. It was exhilarating, and just as addictive as anything else I decided to get my all too curious hands on for the next decade.

At the end of this decade though, I can say I’m no longer phased by it. I get all kinds of attention now, and it’s more of a burden than it sounds like I’m making it. It comes from guys with whole entire relationships waiting for them at home and at work, guys who have kids already (ew), or guys I’m just not into. Period.

So I have a drought of a love life, but I knew this was coming once I recycled my ex’s as much as I could without anyone getting killed. It came close… LOL, but we’re all okay and we’re all separated thank God.

Everybody went their own way to something better, hopefully. Moreso hopefully for me once this drought is over and I can stop losing sleep with all of the PTSD I’ve mustered through the years with all the nightmarish shit I’ve put myself through.

I really went through the ringer, especially my early 20’s. Before I could even legally drink, I had charges. But that’s the territory, right? Being a human Tasmanian devil will do that to you. Having the most unstable self-image will put out a red flag to society that you are disposable, trouble, a force to be reckoned with, etc. So I don’t recommend it.

I’ve really calmed down though. Especially in the past few weeks. Normally after an event like the one I just suffered, I’d be halfway back to my early grave again just like countless times before. But I’m actually way more okay sooner than I thought. It only took a good 3 or 4-day binge of unhealthy, toxic, and intoxicating substances for me to snap into a depression and then somehow snap out of it completely averse to that stuff.

That’s how you know you’re adulting, when life knocks you over for the thousandth time and you just… lay there.

And I type all of this with a huge grin on my face, because it’s great. I can enjoy being sober and feeling like shit at the same time. I can enjoy going to the store at almost 11 o’clock at night for bagel bites and taquitos and feel accomplished for leaving my apartment for all of twenty minutes. I can enjoy binging YouTube, laughing at memes, and obsessing over current event stories in my favourite forum message board places.

So, I’ve moved into my phone. Big deal. My dopamine receptors have to be stimulated by something other than the sun blinding me through my window.

I will say I am neglecting the Tindr app for my own sanity. I think last time I tried to venture it, I got a really fussy man-baby throwing a fit over my very delayed and very mundane response. Okay. That was that, then.

I have a feeling that I can’t rely on electronics for this one. It’s going to have to be some sort of divine intervention to get my love life back on track. I really won’t settle for less, either, because we don’t have the technology advanced enough yet to weed out the assholes, the fuckboys, and the lazy have-nots that I simply can’t build anything with.

There’s always med school. Some very savvy ladies attend just so they can enter the meat market of medicine and date an up and coming doctor. I know I would. Medical terms during foreplay? Needles and a papoose during roleplay? Hell yes.

Okay maybe not anything with phlebotomy but you catch my drift. I think overall, even if they don’t share all the same quirky interests of mine, I would just want someone who is in love with me and stays in love with me. Even if I can’t stay in love with myself.

But I’m trying. This is me trying. This is me giving myself a fucking break because the last ten years have kinda sucked, right? On and off. Sure. But it doesn’t matter. All of the friendships, the relationships, the scandals, the stories.. My God, do I have a story.

I want to publish it, but not in its raw form of pure sugar and salt just piled up in the middle of the table. I want it to be in the form of fiction, set in outer space, in the dark corners of an emotionally dysregulated teenage girl’s mind…

Yep. I got the ideas spinning in my head and everything, it just won’t form a tangible shape.

And it won’t make any money because I’m fucking insane and no one will get it: the big picture, the metaphor, what actually went down.

So I have to make it make money and make sense. Two very difficult things in a day and age where something as basic as Fifty Shades of Grey is hailed as top-notch. Wtf.

At least Twilight is over, thankfully.

And finally my last contribution to this planet and this life of mine in the past ten years is…

BUTTONS.

Yes, my cat. Why?

Because I adopted the most beautiful, loving, playful, and stubborn salt-loving creature on this planet.

So even if I died right here, today, this second.. I will have known true, unconditional love just because of him.

And even if it’s single chick cliche AF… I adore him to death.

So there’s that.

Looking forward to the next 6 months coming and going by so I can be a whole year older, and a whole lot wiser with a lot more laidback to me than before.

But so far, enjoying the ride at 25… (and a half).

Thanks for reading a random rant of mine again! :)

Nostalgic ramblings & revelations about being 25.5 on the way to 26, and much much better. So it dawned on me.. yesterday. At dawn. That there's this cliche little conspiracy thing for us in our mid-20's that 25 is THE worst age, ever.

[rapunzelgirl353]

My experience at Sovereign Health in San Clamente,California (Part 1)-Intro

Hi everyone. My name is Kerilyn. I’m 20 years old and have been through a lot physically and mentally in my life. I have dealt with mental illness for 6 years. A while back I was diagnosed with Bi-polar disorder. I was having a hard time coping and staying stable after the diagnosis. I was constantly in and out of Psychiatric hospitals for months dealing with episodes of mania,depression, and psychosis. I was at my wits end and was desperately trying to find help. I decided the best thing was to go to a residential treatment center to process my past trauma and learn new ways of handling my new symptoms so I could live a decent and safe life and stop being afraid of everything all the time. I decided on a residential center not only because I would be constantly surrounded by staff and therapists who could help me through difficult times but also so I could get away from the stress of my home life and just completely focus on getting better. I grew up with an abusive dad, e was your typical abusive person you normally hear about. At first he rarely physically hurt anyone, his abuse was mental and emotional abuse. He would attack us verbally and get angry at the smallest things. The worst of it happened when there was alcohol involved which was nearly every night. I would be in bed and listen to him cussing my mom out and calling her horrible names. It wasn’t until years after it started that it got more and more aggressive and sometimes violent. Of course my mom knew that something was wrong when he slowly went from being a very talented engineer to barely being able to work at target and losing his pay checks. We moved in the middle of 2015 to Arizona to be closer to my moms family, she knew she would need their support. Not long after we moved and many tests later my dad, only 52 years old, was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s already at its 4th stage out of the 7 stages of Alzheimer’s disease. This explained a lot of his behavior, but for me it wasn’t any kind of excuse. my first reaction was “Yes! There is justice in the world, Karma just came and bit you in the butt!” I still have mixed emotions about his diagnosis but I am doing my best to be aware of things I might regret not doing while he is still here and making an effort to still have a relationship with him. So as you can imagine my home life was very stressful at the time and I was constantly afraid of him, not to mention my nearly daily panic attacks and hallucinations. I was at my wits end. I called all over the states in search of a place that would accept me and my insurance and allow me to bring my service dog with me. He wasn't trained by a professional and I was training him, but he was very well behaved and a real comfort to me. If it came down to it I would go without him but I really didn’t want to. After nearly a month of searching I found sovereign health in California who not only accepted me and my insurance, they also approved my dog to come with me. Any issues that might come up were pretty much resolved already. I had a prescription from my doctor for him, he was small, well behaved, and hypo allergenic so allergies were not an issue. That will be important later. I was approved, they bought me a plane ticket for that following Monday, I packed and off I went excited and ready to turn my life around. I was filled with hope and optimism and went in with an open mind and ready to work hard. So when I came home 70 days later completely shattered in pieces, with dangerously high blood sugars, and with an eating disorder, you can imagine that what happened there was anything but positive for me and so many unethical things happened there it would take me too long to tell you all in one post. So this is going to be a series of post that will detail my experience at the worst rehabilitation program I have ever been to. The lying and the accusations from the staff at sovereign were completely against the law. now not everyone there was cold hearted and really didn't take the time to really help us. There were a few people out of the many that were genuinely kind. So this is not to say that the whole staff and the program were terrible. this is just me documenting my experience for those considering this rehab center, and I can only account for the mental health program. The substance abuse program was completely separate from the one I was in. This is my experience in California.

[inbl0om]

2016 in review

Hey followers, it’s that time of year again! Aka, the year is about over and I write a diary-entry-like text post about how the past 36[6, in this case] days have been for me. Which none of you will probably read. Oh well. Here goes:

Part I: January - Late May I returned to Fordham in the middle of January for my final semester at Fordham. Things were...hard for me to verbalize. A month before, December 2015, I overcame a brief scuffle I had with a few of my friends due to how belligerently drunk I got the night after my first LSAT. Things evened out, but I left LA after the new year with a very troubled heart. I kept asking myself, what would I do if I didn’t get accepted to any of the law schools that I applied to? I had no back-up plan. Ok, that’s a lie; I did: work for a year or so, then go back to school to get my MBA. But I made no effort to apply to any jobs in either city that I called “home.” And that’s another thing: the word “home” began to have many different connotations. So many that I began to hate the English language (for more than the obvious reasons) for having no other word(s) to express exactly how I was feeling. Every party I went to, every living room I pregamed in, every nap I took on Fordham’s quad (”Eddie’s” for all my Fordham followers)--just made me want to cling to New York City even more. College seniors everywhere dread “the ‘G’ word,” but there is no way to explain the disdain “graduation” inflicts on one’s mind and body when the second semester finally rolls around. If anything, the second semester--and every inching second towards the occurrence of the “g word”--makes you really pause the commotion of your life and smell the roses that are the life you made for yourself the past four years.

I met a boy in January on the MetroNorth. He was sweet--almost too sweet. I became too desperate for his attention that I scared him away. Pretty Typical. In February, I retook the LSAT. Then, on the 17th, I turned 22. Once again, I had a birthday party, but I was sad to see that not as many people came as did for my 21st. I also went on my first-ever Tinder date. In March, I came home to Los Angeles for Spring Break. I went to San Diego with a few friends from high school and let myself feel healed by the ocean. In April, I got my first law school acceptance. My fate was sealed. I placed my enrollment deposit and began to come to terms with the certainty that I was, in fact, going to leave New York City for good and return to Los Angeles. I was so happy. And I was so sad. My closest friends were all so ecstatic for my future (and I could tell because that Facebook status was my most-liked EVER at an astounding 180+), yet we all knew what it meant: I was leaving. I was going to be gone.

May was both wonderful and terrible for that reason. My job and my internship both ended, and I focused mainly on my remaining days in New York City. My roommate and I decided to have a “Purple Party” to celebrate that we were both going to graduate schools that just so happened to have the same official color: purple. Mutual friends of ours who lived in a house with a huge backyard let us throw it. Over 200 of our friends came. And at one moment, I actually almost cried. I almost cried because all of these people--who I had either been friends with all four years, had met them along the way, or had just met them that semester--were there for me. Followers, it’s no secret that I suffer from depression and anxiety. I have always had self-esteem issues, as well as abandonment issues and fears that I am never enough. But that night, in that moment, I felt loved. Senior Week commenced later that May. I can’t remember most of the events, but I remember them being fun for many reasons. One night I lay on Eddie’s with my other roommate and we looked at the stars and were holding each other in tears because of how thankful we were that we met each other. Another night, one of my best friends and I finally got around to talking about the reality that was me leaving soon. My brother flew in early (and stayed with his best friend from high school who just happens to go to my Alma Mater) and went to Senior Ball. Senior Ball was amazingly fun...until the after party. Ugh. So much unnecessary drama. But anyway, graduation finally happened. Graduation was surreal. The weather was cloudy, it was somewhat humid, my sister didn’t make it because she missed her flight because she chose her (now ex-)boyfriend’s prom over me, our speaker basically told us that the world is a very terrible place, and seeing AJ get his diploma made me happy that I finally got to say goodbye to him. But honestly, I still can’t believe that it happened. And I don’t think I even know where my diploma is. Oops. Anyway, I’m bummed that I didn’t get to take as many pictures with as many people as I wanted. And I’m still a little bummed that I spent too much time with my family doing all these touristy things. But after my mom and my sisters left, I had two days left in New York City. My last day was really, really hard. May 24th. I won’t forget it. I woke up that morning seeing my bags packed and my bed bare. My walls, which I am notoriously known by my friends for as being the most filled, were blank. I went to lunch with my best friends and tried not to cry the entire time. Afterward, we went to my apartment. In the two hours before my scheduled Uber was to pick me up, my friends helped me take down all the photos that I had taped on the walls. We laughed as we reminisced all the crazy moments that I had captured of our countless shenanigans. Some of my friends asked if they could keep certain photos because they realized in that moment how sentimental it was to them. And then finally, the uber came. I hugged each and every person of my squad. And then when I hugged my main girls--Darby, Alex, and Emma--I lost it. I hugged Darby the longest. But honestly, it’s probably more correct to say that she held me. I finally got the strength to get in the car...and as I drove off, not only did my friends wave, a few of them actually ran after the car. My heart broke into a million pieces. But then it swelled in joy. Never had I ever felt love like this. This love is accepting, this love is patient, this love knows who I am and wants to grow with me. Even with so much distance that I had now created between us. And my brother and I proceeded to get super drunk on the plane back to Los Angeles afterward.

Part II: Late May - Late August The best way to sum up my summer in 2016 is this: I was super fucking depressed. I was mourning my old life. At this point a year prior, I was starting my job in the Admissions Office, I had just moved in to my off-campus apartment, and I was spending every afternoon and night with my best friends either in their living rooms, their backyards, or via drunken shenanigans in Manhattan and Brooklyn. But this year? I was locked in my room watching Netflix and Hulu. Sure, I was very happy to be with my family, and I was happy that I got to spend a lot more time with my friends from high school that decided to move back to LA like I did. But something was missing. I felt empty. I felt lonely. And I felt my heart break even more when I saw via Facebook and Snapchat that my friends from Fordham seemed to have moved on with their lives and had accepted that I was no longer a part of it. I had a depressive breakdown in early July, a little after the fourth. I ripped the pictures of my college friends off my walls and threw many framed pictures I had on the ground, where they shattered. I screamed, cried, and wrote FAT and WORTHLESS all over my body in sharpie. Then, about two weeks later, I went to the hospital because I was self-harming. I had not been suicidal to this degree since AJ broke up with me about a year and a half beforehand.

Then, in late July, two good things happened to me: (1) I started watching Haikyuu!! and (2) I began to take my Intro to Legal Writing class at my current law school. What I liked about my into to legal writing course is that, not only was it super preparatory for my starting career as a law student, I also met many people who I am still friends with--including Aileen, who has become my best friend at law school. Similarly, what I liked about (and still love about) Haikyuu!! is--put simply--it helped me fill a hole that I was feeling. Through the Karasuno Volleyball Club team, I was able to find a fictional psuedo-family while I was looking for ways to create a new one for myself in law school. I also briefly dated a guy I met on Bumble. That was okay, but ended pretty early on. It was nice to know that even LA boys wanted me. And on that note--I also finally came to terms with my sexuality and came out to my family. The summer ended a little early for me because of orientation, but I’m happy that it did. After having a few crying fits wondering whether law school was what I was actually meant to be doing with my life, I was finally ready to attack head-on.

Part III: Late August - December The only thing I really got from orientation was new friends. And honestly, close to 85% of the people I met that first week are still my friends now that the semester is over. These people (Aileen, Josh, Maddy, Michael, Alex, and Joanna) are the main persons who kept me sane. Followers, law school is like nothing I have ever--or will ever--experience. The reading is literally only case opinions, class time is spent trying to affirm what you taught yourself, and your grade in the class is (almost always) determined by the final and maybe a midterm. You have you teach yourself most of it. Your professor is only there to help clear up any questions you have on the rules, their elements, and/or their factors. The most difficult part is teaching yourself the application the rules, because some rules are very broad, and others are super narrow. But once you get the gist of determining which rule falls where, everything else begins to fall into place. Labor Day Weekend was spent in Lake Arrowhead with these new friends. Followers, I haven’t seen that many stars in years. I made a few wishes on three (!!!) of the four shooting stars I saw, and I actually had a panic attack. But!! these new friends were actually super supportive and patient. I guess those are just a few perks of having friends who are older than you.

I actually flew to New York City for Fordham’s homecoming at the end of September! And let me tell you, there were waterworks. The first day, I went to breakfast with my old roommate and another close friend in Brooklyn, and my old roommate and I just about cried when we were reunited after she ran down the stairs to greet me from the uber. My old roommate and I went into Manhattan and ran errands before meeting with my other old roommate, Darby, and our other friend Ben for dinner. And once again, Darby held me while I cried. I was just so happy. There are so many posts on my tumblr in which I attempt to describe how warm, welcome, and loved that these people make me feel. We had a wonderful midtown dinner at an Italian restaurant with live music before heading down to the Village to go out. I got to meet some of Alex’s new friends at her grad school (which was a nice touch because she had taken me on a tour of her portion of the NYU campus earlier that day). We had a pretty lovely rest of a rainy night before going back to our borroughs to sleep. The next morning, Katie arrived, I got to eat NYC-style bagels that I missed oh-so-much, and we went to Homecoming. Homecoming was great because I got to see so many friends that I didn’t even realized I missed. We got drunk under the tent, went to a backyard party, and got pizza at the local spot afterward. And then, at night, a smaller group of us went to the old house of mutual friends that had younger mutual friends living there now. That’s when it hit me: things have changed. No part of my old life is how it used to be. Sure, these friendships will be maintained, and New York City will always be a part of me/have a piece of me--but the illusion that life as it was had not budged since graduation was immediately busted. I left the next day. With tears. But I know I’ll be back.

Anyway, the rest of the semester went by pretty smoothly. I briefly dated a guy I met on Bumble, but it turns out he just wanted me for sex. Whatever--he and his incredibly small penis can go fuck themselves. And then, there was another guy who I actually and genuinely thought liked me at my law school. But like Bumble fuckboy, he only wanted me for sex. He started to spread a rumor that I had assaulted him, which I quickly was able to shut down due to how completely false his accusations were. The good news: I was given a newborn hatchling tortoise!! Little Takala fully hatched on October 4. The little ooo came home to me on October 18, and my life has been exponentially better ever since. I have never understood the hype surrounding pets until I started to care for Lil T. I love that tiny animal more than I love myself. Academically, I hit a bit of a rough patch. I received a very low score, despite a gracious curve, on my first ever midterm exam. This trend continued with other midterms I took. But when December 1 hit, I decided to buckle down and redeem myself. There was no way in hell that I am not going to be at the top. The semester ended on December 21. My friends and I all went out and had a pretty crazy afternoon and night. I came to many realizations about my law school friends, such as who lies about their grades, who cheats, who steals outlines, and even things like who is manipulative and who is most likely going to be at the top or bottom of the class.

If 2016 taught me anything, it’s this: change is constant, and change is difficult. I left many friends and memories--a life--back in New York City; and I created a new life for myself in Los Angeles--aka the city that I was born in and grew up in. 2016 also taught me how to be resilient, how to stay true to myself, and how to both open up about these emotions and to also be a better listener. 2016 was better than 2015 in that I was able to do so many cool things with my friends (both old and new), but it was also worse than 2015 in that all these changes all at once made me very depressed in such a way that was completely different from the depression I felt in 2015.

Hopes for 2017 But anyway, I have a pretty good feeling for 2017. Because my birthday is on the 17th day of February, I have always considered 17 to be “lucky” for me. So, I hope that this year will be good to me. I hope that I can reach my goal weight, to live a healthier lifestyle, to be more receptive to change, to keep getting what I deserve (as in, have the fruits of my labors be from my effort rather than luck)--and, ultimately, to let my anxiety calm the fuck down and actually let life and the universe allow things to fall into place for me without me trying to move too fast or without me trying to unfairly manipulate things into my favor. So, I hope that 2017 will be better than 2016. No--I know 2017 will be better than 2016. Watch out, universe. I’m gonna slay.