#and exhausting i slept until 10:30 this morning and i usually wake up at 6 am

[chryseis]

I've never been part of a bar opening until now, but the past week has been very fun and SO stressful lmao

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 7 “The Noisy Roommate” [Episode List] Tim spends the night at Dave’s house and they have to share the latter’s full-sized bed. As they go to sleep, Dave soon makes sure that it’s gonna be a noisy night.

The episode is inspired by TheFartingWolf’s video/premise of the same name. I had a similar idea sometime ago but I figured I could just combine my story and the video for, I don’t know, a real 4D experience? With that said, I’m ready to delete this story should TheFartingWolf want me to do so.

Also keep in mind that this is not a story about the IRL person who made the video linked above, but rather two fictional characters.

The Noisy Roommate

“Thanks for having me over, bro.” I thanked Dave, while rummaging through my backpack.

This was not the first time I slept at Dave’s house of course, not even the first during our 20s, but this time it truly was a last-second solution. This is not like the shower emergency from sometime ago, though water is involved again somehow.

“No problem dude. I needed someone to help me finish this case of beer anyway.” he said, cracking one open and throwing the can at me, which I managed to catch.

“Always up for it.” and I took a long sip of that cold nectar.

“I’m sorry you almost drowned.” he joked.

“Yeah it was terrible.” I played along.

Truth is that some pipe in my house literally exploded and water flooded the entire apartment. It’s not as bad as it sounds: the leak was already fixed but I still needed a place to stay for the night. I didn’t even have time to call anyone as Dave simply showed up at my place and drove me here.

We sat on the couch to watch some bad movie as we kept chatting about some random stuff and having beer. We were both dressed casually, Dave sporting a pair of grey shorts and a black t-shirt, outfits that doubled as our pajamas, even though Dave was probably gonna sleep shirtless as he usually does.

And again, as usual, I felt some familiar vibrations going through the couch. I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

“Straight to the point, I see.” I commented.

He laughed and slightly leaned, ripping the rest of the 7-seconds rip towards me, without the couch muffling the sound now. I always appreciate how my bud is so casual about my kink and that fart, needless to say, was impressive, despite being “small” for my bro’s incredibly high standards. Also, he basically almost always farted like this even before he knew about my fetish which, again, led me to appreciate more how his attitude towards me didn’t change at all -and he knows very well the “side effects” his blasts give me.

I pitched a tent in my own shorts but I managed to hide it by adjusting my position, crossing my legs. Whether Dave noticed that or not was irrelevant, as he kept ripping a couple of more loud toots.

We resumed watching the TV for like one hour until we both decided it was time to turn into corpses for the rest of the night, so we went upstairs, the beers making us a bit dizzy but nothing serious.

I was familiar with Dave’s house so I headed directly to the guest room, my bud right behind me.

I stepped into the dark room, turned the light on, and I saw it, staring at me from the bed.

Brave Dave was the first one to run away, pulling me outside of the guest room as I hastily shut the door. Team work!

“Okay, Tim. Were you cursed or something?” he asked.

On the bed we both just saw a huge spider, the biggest we’ve ever seen in real life. While we’re not properly arachnophobic, it’s not like *we like* sleeping with spiders hanging around.

We were both manly adult men and so we were both very afraid of the eight-legged monster sneaking out to murder us in our sleep, or simply existing, so the two of us rushed to the kitchen and came back with tons of duct tape to block up every nook and cranny of the guest room door.

“Alright.” I said. “I’ll just use the couch downstairs.”

“Nah bro.” Dave commented. “My bed’s full-sized. You can join me.” and he walked towards his room.

I needed some time to process what he just said. Me and Dave shared a bed many times but that was always before I came out to him. I wonder how-

“Look, I hate to interrupt your inner monologue about self-pity and all” he said, kind of annoyed. “But can we just for once skip your awkward bullshit and head to bed? Thanks.” and then disappeared into his room.

I chuckled a bit as I realized how “formulaic” I was being lately when he more than once proved to me that he had no issues with me, so I followed him. 

The bedroom was dimly lit and he was already lying on his side of the bed, shirtless, showing off some mild pecs and an overall nice-looking figure.

“I gotta warn you: I’m a screamer in bed.” I jokingly said, lying down on my side of the bed, just by the window.

“Oh yesss, scream harder, daddy.” he played along, laughing.

We were both lying down, mindlessly scrolling stuff on our smartphones and reading articles. That only lasted a couple of minutes.

“Well, time for your goodnight kiss” Dave announced, quickly wrapping his legs around me and planting his butt in grey shorts in my face.

I was still lying down as the fart erupted, almost making me deaf for how loud it was, so up close and personal. I couldn’t see the ceiling very well as Dave’s hairy legs mostly obstructed the view. The blast didn’t even smell that much, which made me assume it was on command rather than fully natural; not that it didn’t stink at all of course.

The beer-powered fart lasted about 10 seconds. He wiggled his ass on my face a bit and then let me go/breathe. “I thought you were a screamer.” he teased and went back on his side of the bed, which almost looked queen-sized.

I didn’t say anything and I simply turned my back to him, trying to be annoyed and failing miserably, feeling a faint scent in my nostrils every time I breathed.

“Looks like there’s a leak in my house as well.” he said, right before ripping another thunderous blast, this time far from me. I tried to ignore that, but I still pitched a tent anyway. I didn’t even turn around: I’m not going to let the teaser win!

After a couple of minutes, Dave turned the lights off and the room fell into darkness, the only source of light being a digital alarm clock inches from my face. 1:34 AM, not as late as I thought, but my body didn’t care and I fell asleep almost immediately.

2:44 AM I hear a loud noise and I woke up, only opening my eyes, the alarm clock greeting my sight in a room of pure darkness. Took me a couple of moments to realize that, of course, it was Dave farting, this time in his sleep. I turned around, noticing Dave’s grey pants as my eyes adjusted to the dark.

3:01 AM I was almost asleep as another fart snapped me back to reality, this time even louder. Again I instinctively turned around and stared at my bud’s butt as the blast erupted. Those felt very airy and pretty much odourless I think. I thought whether I should wake him up but I didn’t want him to think that I was listening to his sleep-farting, which is literally what I was doing sadly.

At this point I was playing the jump-rope between being asleep and awake, every time fully waking up because of Dave farting like crazy. After many farts, the blast at 3:59 AM felt particularly powerful and “meaty”, which made me look again at my friend’s butt, somehow noticing his pants moving because of the air being blasted out. A powerful rip that lasted around 11 seconds I believe. Was I dreaming? Similar farts then followed.

4:59 AM This one almost scared me as when I thought it was over it instead became louder and louder, as if it was a train passing nearby. It had a great sound and flow, one of the best I ever heard from my bro.

5:32 AM Another peak in farting activity. Falling asleep at this point was impossible. Each moment of silence was just the quiet before the storm and I completely gave up on the idea of resting that night.

6:21 AM This one was so loud and powerful that even Dave woke up for a moment. He simply sighed in relief though, but when even the farter wakes up, you know the fart was incredible.

6:36 AM A similar blast greeted the first lights of the dawn. 

Even more powerful rips were heard at 7:16 AM and 7:33 AM. At around 8:01 AM, Dave finally woke up by himself, one of his loudest farts acting as natural alarm clock.

That was a long night and as I heard Dave going downstairs to do his morning routine, I figured it was finally time to catch up some sleep, but ironically enough the silence made it more difficult as I was now so used to his blasts that they felt like white noise, fetish or not.

That teasing bastard won and wasn’t even done.

After merely 30 minutes, I heard him jump on the bed. I was facing the window, pretending to be asleep, but I knew he was standing on the bed, towering over me.

“Rise and shine, roommate!”

He squatted over my head, still sporting those grey shorts, and ripped a huge, loud and proud natural morning fart all over my face. I’m kind of glad I was already awake, ‘cause I would have been scared to death by that gas thunder. Where was all of this gas coming from? How was he not done?

I screamed, annoyed, and pushed him on his side of the bed, my hands touching his still-farting ass, the stench being this time unbearable. I heard him laugh like an idiot as he lied next to me, keeping one of his legs up as he finished ripping that loud, long fart.

“So you are a screamer!” he joked.

“And you fart in your sleep.” I replied.

“As if you’d mind me doing that.”

Whether he was aware or not of what happened during the night, Dave was as usual so comfortable around me that he just didn’t care and it was all just a big gassy prank for him. So I just lied there, awake, chatting with my bud about my house looking like Venice, so tired and so exhausted that I didn’t even bother about the spider staring back at us from the ceiling.

End of Episode 7

[elizabeethan]

Spaces Between Us Chapter 6: History

The hardships of real life separated them six years ago, and Emma has been struggling to put that fact behind her ever since. But then, only after she’s convinced herself that she’s moved on and that her new life is enough, Killian Jones comes back.

A Captain Swan Modern AU

***Brief mentions of past physical and emotional abuse and alcohol abuse. Brief mentions of death/loss/grief.***

Reminder that more tags will apply to later chapters and i’ll put warnings where they're necessary, but if you have any concerns or questions feel free to message me!

Weekly updates will be on Tuesdays! (probably)

This chapter is dedicated to AnaSmallGrace because they guessed the title/chapter titles correctly lol.

Thank you, as usual, to my beta and friend @the-darkdragonfly​, and to @donteattheappleshook​ and @xhookswenchx​ for listening to my ramblings and helping me figure out the plot to this <3

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~~~~

She didn’t mean to fall asleep, but when she stirs at the feeling of soft lips pressing damp kisses down her spine, meeting each vertebrae as his fingers tickle against her ribs, she realizes she hasn’t slept this soundly in years. He murmurs, “good morning,” against her skin and she groans in response. 

 “More sleep,” she whines into the plush pillow. 

 “What time do you need to pick up Henry?” 

 She presses up onto her elbows with a start, frantically looking around the room for some indication as to what time it is. “12:30,” she tells him, looking back with wide, anxious eyes. 

 He smiles and says, “worry not, love. It’s only just after 10.” He slides up along her body until he can lie beside her and smooth out her hair, kissing her nose gently. “I just wanted to make sure you’d have enough time.”

 Breathing out a sigh of relief, she nods and collapses back down on the bed, her face pressed into the pillow. She isn’t sure when they ended up beneath the blankets, but she fell asleep so quickly that she’s sure he could’ve easily moved her without her noticing. “Okay,” she sighs. “Thank you.”

 “For what?” he asks with a smirk, and she returns it in kind, rolling onto her side so that she’s facing him and able to see the brilliance in his eyes. 

 “A few things, I guess,” she starts. “Waking me up, making me come so hard that I basically passed out… loving me…” She trails off but can easily see that her point is well taken. 

 He’s silent for a beat, appearing to be entranced by her words as he gently traces his fingers along her temple and down her cheek, across her neck until he reaches her shoulder and cups it with his hand. “I know we said that we would talk about this later, but… Well, I don’t intend to let you go again, Emma.” 

She feels tears pricking at the backs of her eyes and she blinks hard, trying to hold them in. But for the second time today, she isn’t crying because she’s scared or in pain or hopelessly depressed. It’s because she believes him. She trusts him and knows that he means what he says wholeheartedly. 

 So she curls further onto her side, snuggling close to him and pressing her bare body to his as he wraps his arms around her and holds her in a warm, comforting embrace. She isn’t sure what she can say about the position they’ve found themselves in. It’s not as if she can leave her husband now, despite how she might want to, because she knows what he’s capable of. She thinks that now that they’ve had the conversation about Henry, he’s even more likely to use that against her and keep him from her if she were to try and leave him. And no matter how she feels about Walsh or Killian or even herself, Henry will always be her first priority. 

 Killian seems to be able to read her shift in mood, so he gently suggests, “let me make you breakfast. If the way your stomach was screaming in your sleep is any indication, I’d assume you haven’t eaten yet today.” 

 She sighs, laughing just a bit, and nods against his chest, feeling his coarse hair tickling her cheek. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

 “Not until 1.”

 With a contented hum, she smiles up at him and playfully says, “plenty of time to get your story straight. Ruby warned me that she’d be bothering you all night for details.” 

 “Details… bloody hell, woman, tell me you didn’t go to Ruby for my address.” 

 She giggles as his fingers brush along her waist, trailing from her hip to her ribs and back down again. “I needed the damn train!” 

 “Aye, the damn train,” he says with feigned irritation as he kisses the tip of her nose. “Heaven forbid the lad is without his train for a few hours,” he jokes.

 “I didn’t want to go home,” she says with more honesty and seriousness, a blush creeping up her cheeks and down her chest. “And once I had an excuse to see you, well…” 

 He hums thoughtfully and kisses her softly. “I know what you mean.”

 “I guess I didn’t expect our meeting to end like this, not that I'm complaining.”

 He laughs against her mouth and nods before murmuring, “let me make you breakfast, aye?” 

 With a nod and a happy sigh, and asks, “can I use your shower quick? I’d rather not smell like sex when I pick up my kid from kindergarten.” 

 Another kiss later, he says, “of course, love. I’d be happy to provide some support in there as well; I know sometimes that temperature valve can be difficult to navigate.”

 She sits up in bed, taking the thin sheet with her to cover her breasts, and turns to face him. “I’m sure it can be. You really did a number on me, too. I’m so exhausted that I might need some help soaping up.” 

 He smirks and raises a brow, watching as she stands and growling as he chases her into the bathroom. 

 ~~~~

 She’s glad that it’s the middle of the morning on a Monday, because that means his neighbors hopefully aren’t home and weren’t able to hear the rather noisy shower they took. Surely the sounds coming out of her were traveling through the pipes, but she couldn’t exactly keep quiet while he fucked her against the wall of the shower. 

 She’s also not sure how she’ll go on with her day when he keeps planting kisses to her neck as he stands behind her, holding her hips while she tries her damndest to flip the pancakes before they burn. “You've gotta stop,” she groans, panting as his fingers slide around her front and trace the zipper of her jeans. 

 “But you’re so irresistible,” he murmurs. 

 “I don’t have time to shower again.” 

 He hums against her neck, licking along the sensitive spot just below her ear, and says, “you don't have to leave for an hour.” 

 “Killian…” she giggles. “Grab me a plate.” 

 He does, holding it out for her so that she can place the pancakes on it before he presses a tender kiss on her cheek and says, “thank you, love.” She hums in question and he responds, “I believe I promised you breakfast, and here you are preparing it.” 

 “Well,” she shrugs, taking her own plate and carrying it to his small table. “I am a mother now. Breakfast foods are my specialty. Henry’s particularly fond of scrambied eggies.” 

 “I’m sure they're delicious,” he nods, smiling as he pours syrup over his pancakes and then offers it to her. “He’s quite the character.” 

 With a smile, she says, “my pride and joy. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

 “I can imagine,” he smiles back. He cuts into the pancake with his fork and takes a bite, humming and smiling around them at her. “Is he… is he why you stay?” 

 With a gulp and a bite of her own, if only so that she can avoid answering for a moment longer, she nods. “Walsh doesn’t want much to do with him, but he’s spiteful. He would keep him from me just because he can. He thinks he has to maintain his perfect family image if he has any hopes for reelection” 

 He’s silent for a moment, and she can see the way he bites the inside of his cheek to try and keep quiet. “Aye,” he finally says. “I suppose there isn’t much I can say about staying with someone who isn’t good for you.” 

 She’s surprised that he’s bringing this up, but supposes it had to be addressed at some point. “In your case, it was going back to that person.” 

 “I didn’t feel I had much of a choice.” 

 “I know. I wanted you to stay and you didn’t want to hear it. It’s okay.” 

 “I heard you, love,” he argues. “I just… I had to go.” 

 “Then how can you say you heard me?” She takes another bite, trying to remain calm and keep this a discussion rather than an argument. “I wanted you to stay for your own good, Killian. He was abusive to you your whole life; you didn’t owe him anything.” 

 She hasn’t thought about this in detail in years, but is brought back to one of their final conversations easily. “Liam died,” he says by way of explanation, and she nods. It’s impossible to not be empathetic for his loss, but six years ago when he impulsively decided to take his late brother’s place and care for their dying father despite how badly he’d abused his sons, she lost it. 

 “I know. I’m sorry.” 

 “Don’t be.” 

 “What happened to Brennan?” 

 “He died,” he says casually, with little obvious emotion surrounding his father’s death. “Last year. And… well, you were right. I couldn’t handle it; I drank the whole time I was there. I felt sorry for myself-- I had lost Liam, I lost you… I couldn’t handle it.” 

 She puts her fork down and takes his hand, although he refuses to look up from his plate. “Killian, alcoholism runs in your family.” 

 “I know. And after I found out how Liam died… I don't know. I-- I’ll be honest, Swan, I wanted you to come with me so badly; I resented you for not coming.”

 In surprise, she says, “Killian, I couldn't condone what you were doing. I know how much it hurt to know that Liam was drunk driving, when you thought he was your perfect older brother. I know you felt like you had to take his place as the prodigal son. But Brennan abused the two of you your whole lives. I couldn’t let you go back to him after what he’d done to you; he didn’t deserve it and neither did you.” 

 “I know that, looking back.”

 His father must’ve died a slow and painful death if he’d only passed away a year ago. Cirrhosis of the liver is bad enough, and when he refused to stop drinking despite his prognosis, Killian became enraged. He refused to speak to his father, and lashed out at his brother who saw it as his duty to care for the dying man despite years of torturous abuse. She thought he had his head on his shoulders when she found out how angry he was with Liam for caring for their father when he deserved the opposite. 

 But then, Liam died. Killian had no idea that his brother struggled with alcoholism just as his father had, as it was easy to hide from across an ocean. But when he found out that his brother, the man he idolized endlessly, died as a result of driving drunk, he spiraled and became someone she hardly recognized. He began drinking himself, although not quite enough to be concerning, and eventually determined that, in order to do right by his brother, he had to take his place in caring for their father. 

 She couldn’t watch him destroy himself for the man he hated. So she gave him an ultimatum, and he chose his path. 

 He didn’t choose her. 

 “When Liam died, you lost yourself,” she says, explaining her thoughts to herself as much as she is to him. “I wanted to help you find yourself again but you wouldn’t let me. I just couldn’t sit and watch you go back to that life of abuse; even if he was too weak to hit you or burn you with his cigarettes, I’m sure he got on just fine with the verbal abuse.”

 “How is that any different from me letting you go back home to your husband with that bloody bruise on your wrist? I’m sure he isn’t any kinder to you than my father was to me.” he argues, and she's taken aback, her eyes widening. 

 “Don’t throw that in my face,” she returns. “I don’t have a choice just like you thought you didn’t. Only I have a son to think about.” 

 He sighs and finally looks up at her. “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I just… I don't know. I regret leaving every day, and I have since the moment I boarded that damn plane. The moment I shut the door to our apartment. But sometimes I can't help but think, if I hadn’t, perhaps you wouldn’t have your boy.”

 She nods, and in her refusal of his past suspicions, she says, “I wouldn’t.” 

 “But perhaps you also wouldn’t have your husband.” 

 She nods again. She doesn’t blame him, and she tries not to blame herself either, but he’s right. If he hadn’t left, she wouldn’t have gone out a month later and slept with the first guy who looked at her. So, again, she says more sadly, “I wouldn’t.” 

 “Double edged sword, I suppose.” 

 She smiles sadly and nods. There’s silence between them for a few moments before she considers what they've been through, where he’s been, and asks, “if he died a year ago, what… how did you find me?”

 He shrugs and blushes. “I didn’t mean to, actually. I came back to Boston looking for you and had no such luck. Then one night I ran into Elsa at a bar and she told me you were gone, that you left years ago, right after I did, and… I don't know. Something broke in me and I quit drinking-- for the most part. I decided I had to leave Boston and took the first job I could find, and it happened to be here.” 

 She gives him a small smile and asks, “did you intend to try and win me back?” 

 “Yes, absolutely.” 

 His serious tone in response to her joking one is surprising, but she knows he’s telling the truth. She knows he would've been successful, too, if she’d been single when they met again. Hell, he’s successful now.

 “I can’t leave him yet, Killian. I want to, but it’s not… I need to put Henry first.” 

 “I know,” he says sadly. 

 “But that doesn’t mean… I mean…” she sighs. “Just-- I know this is selfish of me to ask of you but, well, I never-- Killian, I never got over you,” she gulps. “I have every intention of leaving him when I can and when I know that it’s safe to do so. And when I do… I mean, I was hoping--”

 “Emma,” he interrupts, taking her hand. “I love you. I told you already, I don't intend to lose you again. I want to build the life with you that we’ve always planned on having. Just… Now, there's a little lad involved, as well.” 

 With tears in her eyes, she meets his and says, “even though he isn’t yours?” 

 “He’s yours. That’s enough for me.” She grins at him and stands, leaning over the table until she meets his lips in a soft, meaningful kiss. “But Emma, love, you’ve got to promise me that you’ll stay safe. If he hurts you again, or if he tries to hurt the boy…” 

 “He won't. He isn’t usually like that, he won't do it again. And he’d have to pay attention to Henry in order to be any threat to him.” 

 “Swan…” 

 “I love you, too.”

 He laughs lightly and kisses her once more. “Of all the ways I imagined us being together again, an extramarital affair wasn’t on the list.” 

 She giggles, cradling his head in her hands, and says, “it’s kinda hot, though.” 

 With a soft scoff and a shake to his head, he rolls his eyes and kisses her chastely before standing up and taking her empty plate. “Come,” he says, “we need to come up with whatever story I’m going to be feeding Ruby all night.”

 ~~~~

 “It’s so beautiful, Emma,” Mary Margaret coos as she shows her photos of the house they’ll be renting in just a few weeks time. “When David suggested we get away, I was just so excited.” 

 “It’s lovely,” she nods, smiling softly up at her sister as she picks at her salad. 

 “Mommy, I need more cheppy.” 

 “Ketchup, bub. Here.” 

 Henry hums happily as he dips his nuggets into the ketchup, making animated sounds as each dinosaur perishes as he takes a bite. 

 “You’ve hardly touched your lunch,” her sister complains after a moment, looking at her nearly full plate in disappointment. “Are you feeling okay?” 

 “I’m fine,” she says back. “I just had a late breakfast.” 

 Mary Margaret screws up her face in surprise and says, “you never eat breakfast.” 

 She shrugs. “Well, today I did.” 

 “What did you have, mommy? Cheeries, like me?”

 “You had Cheerios, my love. I had pancakes.” 

 “Pancakes?! I want pancakes! You never let me have pancakes on a school day!”

 “You must've been in a good mood if you decided to make yourself pancakes.” 

 Emma shoots her sister a discerning look, furrowing her brows, and shrugs. “Maybe I was.” 

 “That’s new,” she says, laughing when Emma tosses her napkin at her. “I’m sorry, but come on,” she laughs. “You’ve been miserable for months. What’s changed?” 

 “Nothing,” she mumbles immediately. “Oh, Henry, I got your train. Here you go.” 

 With wide eyes, he gasps in excitement and snatches it from her, hugging it to his chest. “You found Tommy! Thank you, mommy! Where was he?” 

 “Was Tommy missing?” 

 “Mommy left him in her coat and then she lost it,” he snitches. 

 “Wasn’t that the coat you wore out? You didn’t leave it at the bar, did you?” 

 She lets her jaw hang open just a bit too long before shaking her head and explaining, lying, “no, uh, I was… ya know…” she says, giving her sister a knowing look. “A little out of my head when I got home that night. Forgot where I put it.” 

 Mary Margaret hums and nods her head before saying, “you know, I think I saw the sheriff there that night.”

 Henry gasps again, his gray eyes wider than she’s ever seen them, and asks, “mommy, do you know the sheriff?”

 She gulps again, choking on her breath, and says, “yeah, I do.” 

 “You do?” her sister asks, and she wants to kick her under the table. 

 “Yes, Henry,” she says pointedly. “The sheriff and I are friends. How were your chicken nuggets?” 

 “They’re dinosaur-ies.” 

 “Dinosaurs.” 

 “Yeah.”

 She smiles at him fondly and says, “I love you,” before she can stop the words from slipping past her lips. 

 He smiles back at her and returns, “I love you too, mommy. Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine, baby. I just wanted you to know that I love you.” 

 Based on the way her sister is staring at her, she thinks she may have made a mistake opening her mouth. 

 “Are we going to get Leo?” 

 “Yeah,” she laughs. “Auntie M’s, are we going to go get Leo?” 

 She hums and picks up her plate, grabbing Emma's as well and shaking her head at how much salad is left. “I’m sure we should. Ashley is probably sick of him by now.” 

 ~~~~

 Arriving at the station should feel like any other day, but when he walks in, Ruby smirks at him. And he’s just about had it before he even gets to his office.

 “Morning, sheriff,” she says salaciously, wriggling her brows. 

 “It’s 1 pm.” 

 “Right.” 

 “What?” 

 She shrugs and giggles to herself, looking back at her computer screen with wide eyes and a hidden smile. ”How’s your friend?” 

 “Ruby,” he starts, groaning as he tosses his keys onto his desk, sitting down forcefully and dropping his head onto his forearms. 

 She follows him into his office, despite him desperately hoping she won’t, and places a printed sheet of paper onto his desk. 

 “What’s this?” he asks, picking it up and staring at the sheet that makes no sense. 

 “Something I found while I was bored today. My boss made me work a double.” 

 “Ruby,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Sometimes you just have to work a double. I’m sorry, but when you're the only deputy, it sort of comes with the territory. What did you find?”

 “Yeah, whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “Look at the name on the account.” 

 He looks down at the sheet she’s given him and, at the top corner, sees a name. Walsh Oswald.

 Bloody hell.

 “How’d you get this?”

 She ignores him, giving him a look that tells him that perhaps he doesn’t want to know. “That’s a lot of money,” she remarks obviously, nodding towards the printout. He isn't sure how she got access to his transfer records, but he must admit, he’s impressed, despite the fact that it’s likely inadmissible. Either way, it’s a start.  

 “Aye. Where does it come from?”

 “I don't know. But I have a feeling we should do some police work.” 

~~~~

~~~~

[blushingwithafever]

TMAHC week day 3: sickfic || misunderstanding || overwhelmed

I finished this at around 7 am so apologies if there’s any errors, I’ll fix them later on

Set sometime while Martin is still sleeping at the Institute

To be completely honest, Jon had no idea how he made it to work in one peice this morning.

Actually, it could be counted as afternoon now since it was around half past twelve when he stumbles into the Institute, but he still made it, and that’s all that counts.

He’d slept through the multiple alarms he had set, which was unusual for him since he’s normally not the deepest sleeper— the drop of a pen was enough to wake him with a start these days. A pulsing pain within his skull eventually drew him out of the comforting darkness of sleep as it throbbed in time with the annoying beep of his alarm. He wanted nothing more than to let sleep take him away again, away from the pain, but he knew he had to get up and head out.

Suck it up, you’re fine. It’s not even that bad. You’re just being dramatic, he grit his teeth as his exasperated grandmother’s voice rung out in his aching head. 

“Let’s get on with it then” Jon muttered while he scrubbed a hand down his slightly flushed face.

The day only seemed to get worse the more it dragged on.

He was already late, which of course Tim just had to make snide comments on, it was making the pounding headache turn into feeling like a jackhammer across his temples. It was bad enough that he was shambling down the hall like a drunkard, having to hold onto the wall for support every few steps, but he almost let out a frustrated groan when he heard Tim’s footsteps follow him.

He has neither have the time or the energy for this.

He wants to be left alone, is that so much to ask?

His office.

All he has to do was reach his office and he could find some peace, he was so desperate already that he flung open the door and slammed it after his entrance, nearly toppling over afterwards and wincing hard. He hadn’t actually meant for the door to slam shut as hard as it did, but the damage was done and he was regretting it. He had to lean back against the door as he rubbed at his temples with both hands, the loud slam made the pain 10x worse.

At least he was alone now. Alone in the quiet darkness, that seemed to help slightly after a couple of minutes.

The next three and a half hours are an agonizing blur of statement readings and recordings. A deep ache had made itself at home in his bones and his small frame is wracked with chills that switches to a sweltering heat in the blink of an eye. His free hand reaching up unconsciously to jam two fingers into his temple again for the umpteenth time, this time frowning when he notices the heat and sweat on his brow.

He isn’t sure if his throat feels sore from all the reading without anything to drink or if it’s just a little added bonus to his illness— but the coughs he produces after clearing his throat are answer enough.

Lucky him.

He’ll finish this statement, it’s getting a bit hard to focus anyway, and then lie down in the cot for a quick 10 minute power nap.

It’s worked in the past so why wouldn’t it now?

He remembers the old bottle of paracetamol in his desk before getting up, knowing that he should probably take something before heading over to the storage room, but his face falls upon finding it empty without so much as a rattle. Well... so much for that.

—————

Martin quietly shuffles around the Institute after hours; making sure everything’s locked up tight, washing up in the restroom, fixing himself dinner and a cuppa, and settling down by watching the telly in the break room before heading to bed on the cot that Jon lent him for the time being. It’s been his nightly routine since Jane Prentiss trapped him.

There’s no one else here to his knowledge, even Jon’s office is dark and empty, so he doesn’t expect company until at least 6 or 7 am.

Jon usually got here the earliest but today he threw a bit of curve ball at them by arriving at 12:30 pm while looking quite disheveled, almost like he’d just rolled out of bed. 

He really didn’t look good, and Martin wanted to press on the matter, but he’d promised to do the lunch run today so it would have to wait. By the time he returned, Tim made sure to let everyone know that ‘boss’ was in a mood. Martin went to check on him but decided against it when he felt the locked handle and heard Jon’s strained voice while he read aloud. He’d just check in before Jon goes home then.

He must have missed him.

But if Jon’s well enough to leave then he must be fine, maybe he was just exhausted after a few nights of restless sleep— Martin now knows the feeling.

He almost falls asleep in one of the wooden chairs as the show he was attempting to watch drags on. Turning off the boring show, he makes his way to the restroom one last time to change into sweats and a tee.

The silence of the Institute after hours is probably something he’ll never get used to. There’s just something eerie to it, like it’s too quiet, too calm.

A noise cuts through the silence, effectively spooking him, that’s coming from further down the corridor ahead of him. He’s not sure he wants to continue after that but he thinks it sounded like a moan of pain, there’s a beat of hesitation before his curiosity and concern win out as he continues to silently press on.

The door to the storage room is ajar so he makes his way over with caution until he can peer inside. What he sees isn’t what he was expecting. Jon’s on the cot, curled in on himself and shaking like a leaf while the blanket is hanging off the edge onto the floor. Martin’s quick to enter, concern overtaking caution as he hurries his way over.

“Jon?” Martin starts softly as to not cause more harm than good, “I thought you went home.”

He doesn’t like that Jon barely stirs at the intrusion, but instead he focuses on taking in more of the sight before him. Jon’s face looks too drawn and pale, a high flush on his cheeks, sweat making his shirt cling to his skin, and the ragged breathing that had a slight wheeze on the end— he looks a right mess. Before he even realizes it, he’s reaching a hand out to brush against Jon’s forehead.

He expects Jon to startle when he touches him, but the only response he gets is another moan that gets choked off as the poor man’s voice cracks painfully.

“Oh, Jon” Martin coos while brushing sweaty bangs out of the way, “that’s a pretty nasty fever you’ve got.”

Jon really doesn’t want to wake up and he wants to open his eyes even less with the spinning sensation he’d felt earlier when he woke. He registers a warm hand brushing his hair and chances cracking one eye open. It’s so gentle, working out the tangles and smoothing his sweat soaked curls, he almost falls back asleep before the person says something he can’t make out.

“Wha’d say?” It comes out a lot less elegant than he wants it to but whoever it is seems to get the point.

“I asked how you were feeling.” Martin is as patient as a ever while he watches Jon’s eyes blink blearily up at him as of trying to process what’s going on and what’d he just said.

“M’tin” recognition flashes in glassy eyes when he sees that Martin isn’t in his usual clothes anymore. “S’rry, I’ll get up. Jus’ needa sec.”

“No, no you’re fine there” Martin’s hands hover over Jon should he need to push him back down but Jon’s arms give out before then, “stay right here. You’re alright. I’d like to get a read on that fever and a bottle of water for you.”

“But your cot—”

“Don’t worry about it, plus it’s really yours and you need it more than me. Now, can you stay here for me? I’ll just be a second.”

Martin’s satisfied with the small nod he receives and bolts out to the break room for the first aid kit and a bottle of water from the fridge. Jon’s still in the same spot when he returns to his side.

He must really feel poorly if he’s accepting help so easily, Martin bites his lip while shifting through the kit, looking for everything he needs.

It’s a good thing he always checks the kit to make sure it’s well stocked with whatever the crew might need. He holds out the thermometer and waits for Jon to open his mouth far enough to slip it in. He’s already shaking a few tablets out of the bottle of paracetamol before the device beeps.

39.6

Martin tsks softly, helping Jon sit up before depositing two tablets and the bottle of water into his shaky hands. He doesn’t even complain when Martin helps lift the bottle to his lips.

The quick interaction seems to take what little energy Jon had left out of him as he slumps bonelessly against Martin, head pillowed on his chest. He’s never seen Jon like this before, and of course that’s concerning, but at least he doesn’t have to suffer alone through it.

“Stay” Jon whispers hoarsely against Martin before an even quieter, “please.”

“I’ll be here.” Martin shifts slightly to run a hand through Jon’s hair, gently coaxing him to sleep. He holds back a chuckle when he watches Jon try to fight against closing his droopy eyes.

Martin stays with him for the rest of the night and doesn’t dare move his body except for the hand that’s playing with Jon’s hair, even though the heat of the fever penetrates his shirt and leaves him a bit uncomfortable and sweaty— it’s well worth it.

[clearpixellove]

Soft Snow Day

Okay I got the idea for this HC after I realized it was 6:30 am, I hadn’t slept and I was freezing my nobly knees off, so enjoy?

Karasuno Third Years With Their S/O On a Snow Day

Warnings: Fluff?

Notes: I really like this on so I hope it turns out well

~~~

Daichi Sawamura

•okay but this mans waking up

•9 am? (Good sleep in)

•S/O snuggled up into him?

•frost on the window?

•Dream.

•his tonight heart would flutterrrr

•slowly stirring his partner awake

•pressing light kisses on their forehead, cheeks, closed eyelids

•just being soft and gentle with them

•getting up, getting dressed and making hot chocolate

•asking his S/O if they just wanted to curl up on the couch

•Movie marathon.

•preferably si-fi? I dunno, just the pew pew and snow snuggles works

•a shared blanket though he would end up just wrapping it around his S/O

•siting in his lap and slowly drifting off

•he would ask you a question and when you don’t answer he just knows

•picking them up and carrying them to bed

•lying them down and just about to leave but

•just, seeing them

•lying in bed, alone and giving the odd shiver made his heart swell

•,,maybe.. five minutes wouldn’t hurt..?”

•...

•,,okay yeah, 30 minutes sounds good”

•mental confirmation? 1000

•he ends up falling asleep with them snuggled into his chest, the happiest Cheshire smile on their face

•they both end up sleep past dinner and kinda exhausted? Like,,, they regret that nap

•not the cuddles tho-

•they were great

•10/10

•late dinner and just light reading, maybe a comedy channel running in the back on low volume

•best snow day honestly

Sugawara Koushi

•Boi was up and prepping for the day

•at like 8?

•wide awake and caffeinated

•his S/O tho?

•dead to the world

•knocked out asleep

•at least until snow was sprinkled on their face

•snowflake freckles

•Suga just above them, gloves on and holding a bit of snow

•,,Hello, my sweet sleeping angel~ wakey wakey, get dressed and come have breakfast!”

•angel smile but if they didn’t get out fast enough

•batta boom, on the floor

•he had a bag packed an waiting on the kitchen table with a new pair of gloves that matched his with a new scarf too

•not to plus breakfast

•some really anime shit

•slo-mo and shining

•fresh toast with eggs on top, a small bowl of soup, cup of tea

•perfect house wife he was

•After getting ready and eating, he was bouncing to get out and do some cute shit with his S/O

•walking down the streets, holding hands and playing with the snow every now and again

•if his S/O’s hands got cold, he would stop completely and breathe onto them, trying his best

•if that didn’t work, he was determined to hold your hand in his pocket

•,,Is that better love? I thought the gloves were heated or thermal...”

•he was prepared at usual

•he takes them ice skating

•he did kinda look like a baby deer at the start but got the hang of it

•if they weren’t experienced and nervous, hanging onto the rails, he would spend every second with them

•holding their hands and taking baby steps

•though if they were more experienced and confident, he would be so proud

•shed a tear for the beauty and grace

•walks through the park or getting a quick hot meal

•sharing food or ending up having a snowball fight

•it all ended with them on a park bench, laughing about their day before enjoying that cute and passionate lip lock to seal the deal

Asahi Azumane

•Oop shy boy

•might’ve been the first time sleeping over?

•maybe a surprise visit to Asahi

•it was definitely something new for the babe

•he was so timid

•,,Sooo.. Do you want Something to eat or drink..?”

•,,H-How about we bake something?”

•okay that’s works

•11 in the morning and trying to bake whilst rugged up with Azumane

•dancing around the kitchen to sweater weather and just having fun

•S/O covered in flour whilst he had batter on his nose and cheek

•sitting in front of the ocean whilst it cooked

•just relaxing on the floor

•rolling a ball back and forth between them

•scrolling through socials

•somehow ending with S/O lying on Asahi’s chest, cuddling and almost a sleep

•until smoke started to infect them house

•both jumping up, Asahi running around and trying to blow the smoke away from the alarms

•his S/O taking out the burnt cake and pouting

•once the panic was over, he just waddled over and gave them a cookie

•,,I made them a while ago.. for a present but I never gave them to you.. I hope you like them,”

•charmer

•sure they were a bit iffy, a little bit too hard and dry from them

•they still ate it tho

•it was a cookie from Asahi in a way to comfort them

•they’d eat a million

•ending up on the couch, not cuddling

•Just.. peacefully next to each other

•Asahi reading

•His S/O playing on their phone

•By the end of the night tho they were fast asleep and cuddled against one another

Kiyoko Shimizu

•she was so soft

•her S/O showing up at 10 in the morning

•carrying a bag full of movies, junk food and a Polaroid camera hanging from their neck

•speechless before giving a soft giggle

•,,You’re too cute, love. Come inside,”

•waking inside and getting comfy

•cooping up in her room and cuddling

•soft small kisses

•hand holding

•Polaroid photos

•Disney movies

•perfection

•The papers on Kiyoko’s desk worried her S/O tho

•,,Eh? Busy or stressed..?”

•Hecking confused before noticing they saw her work

•laughing a bit before pecking their cheek

•,,This is old review work and work for the guys, they're getting a bit distracted so I figured they needed a little bit more work,”

•such a worried babe

•getting glomped by her S/O

•blushing brightly as they called her adorable

•she just stayed quiet and snuggled then

•,,.. you’re the cute one...”

•watching more Disney movies and singing along contently

•Kiyoko actually fell asleep first

•her S/O got her all nice and tucked into bed

•getting in with her after cleaning up and cuddling her

•Kiyoko deserves the little spoon

•feeling warm arms around her midsection

•keeping her calm and giving her sweet dreams

•an amazing snow day

[mar-bluu]

Okay so Elmer and Buttons are into their floral patterns and their flowers but Spot loves daffodils okay, at his place there's normally (depending on the time of year) a singular daffodil in a vase in his kitchen, sat on the windowsill next to his ashtray and smokes. Perched there at sunrise for a cigarette and just smiling idly at the yellow flower that's sat so effortlessly, his eyes are struggling to stay open Racer awakening to find him asleep in the kitchen, covering him with a blanket

:3 its 2:30 am but i couldn’t sleep until i finished this asdfgh (i tried proofreading but my brain is a pile of goo at this point)

--

A pale grey haze of light slipped through the window, crawling over every surface, and climbing up into Spot’s eyes. He blinked, eyes and brain coming back into focus. His hands were clamped together in fists that were pressed up to his mouth, and when he moved his arms, his elbows creaked. What time was it? How long had he been sat at the kitchen table? When was the last time he moved? Why was he staring at this empty word document? Why did he even have a word document open? What was happening? It felt like someone was tuning a short-wave radio inside his head. Spot stood up, joints cracking underneath him as he stretched. He closed the empty word doc, the last thing he remembered was making a coffee at around 10, speaking of… he looked down, his vision moving slower than his eyes, like they were ever-so-slightly out of sync, and grabbed the mug next to him, taking a sip. Ahh. Cold. He stumbled a few paces over to the microwave, placed the cup inside, and pressed the thirty-second button before turning around and slumping against the cold marble-top bench. He looked out the window down at the city below him, the sun would be rising soon. Spot smiled to himself. “At least I’m up early enough to see that.” He whispered to the empty room. Just as his brain began to cloud and eyes glaze over, the microwave beeped, pulling him from the alluring fog of unfocussedness. He sighed, moving back to the microwave, his feet dragging behind him. He brought the hot mug over to the window, taking another, warmer, sip. He sighed in content, eyes closing in pleasure and sleepiness. Eyes still closed, Spot stretched his hand out, tapping around in an attempt to find his pack of smokes and lighter; he didn’t smoke often, but it was a bad habit he fell into when exhaustion hit him. Flicking a cigarette out of the box, he cracked open his eyes and lit it, raising his hand to his lips to take a drag. His arms felt full of lead as he let his head rest against his palms, blowing wispy trails of smoke into the cold morning air. His eyes slid jerkily across to the delicate glass resting by the windowsill, a single golden daffodil sitting in the water. It’ had been there for just over a week, its petals were wilting slightly and turning faintly brown at the tips. He closed his eyes again. Spot had a certain fondness for daffodils, he wasn’t too sure why, perhaps it was their soft petals that radiated warmth like miniature suns. Maybe the pollen that drifted through the air, drawing from him an almost constant stream of sneezes, amused him. Or maybe it was the pure nostalgia it gave him. Nostalgic of what, he only had the faintest idea, daffodils would always set his mind at ease taking him back to a vague childhood, nothing but foggy memories of daffodil fields and warm sun beating down on his freckled cheeks. He forced his eyes open one last time, watching as smoke billowed from his parted lips, rolling over the soft yellow petals. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, the warm rays illuminating the back of the flower in a way that was almost too perfect. His head had travelled from his palm to the inside of his arm, protecting himself from the cold, hard bench, and he haphazardly swung his arm down, putting the cigarette out in the ashtray next to his lighter. He looked over to the clock on the kitchen wall, he had to be ‘up’ in an hour. He sighed, dragging his gaze back to the daffodils. Maybe he’d close his eyes real quick, just a few seconds… Spot’s eyelids felt heavy, as if someone had weighed them down with stones. What harm could a few minutes do? It’s not like he could argue anyway, because his eyes had already fluttered shut.

--

When Race awoke that morning, he wasn’t surprised to not see Spot next to him, he usually got up at 6, an hour before Race did. What did surprise him though, was walking into the kitchen to see Spot slumped against the bench, fingers brushing up against the vase by the window as if he had been clutching it before drifting into sleep. Race thought back to the previous night. Did Spot even come to bed? He couldn’t quite recall. He gave himself a mental shrug and disappeared back into their bedroom, reappearing a few seconds later with a fluffy grey blanket which he draped over Spot’s shoulders. Race could smell the remnants of smoke clinging to the threads of Spot’s shirt. Yep, didn’t make it to bed last night. Race made a mental note to talk with him about getting enough sleep. He gently moved the vase away from Spot’s hand, he tended to be pushy in his sleep, and a broken vase wasn’t high on Race’s list of things he wanted to deal with. Spot stirred lightly in his sleep and Race smiled to himself. His phone pinged a reminder and Race glanced down at the screen. Get more groceries, we can’t survive on toasted sandwiches and tinned spaghetti forever. He sighed, a quarter past seven and he was already running errands. Race smiled down at Spot’s sleeping form, he didn’t look comfortable, but Race didn’t want to risk moving him in fear of waking him up. He moved over to the front door and slipped on a pair of sneakers, threw one last glance toward Spot, before heading out the door.

--

Spot blinked awake, beams of sunlight streaming across his face. The static fog in his head seemed to have lifted a little, and he yawned, stretching out his arm that buzzed with pins and needles. He rubbed his eyes, hearing the shower running down the hall. Guess Race was up. Stars swam in front of Spot’s vision and he tried to blink them away to get a better look at the kitchen wall clock. 10:24. Shit, he’d overslept. He pushed himself off the bench and felt a light weight fall from his shoulders in a pile at his feet. He looked down at the blanket and couldn’t help the smile that crawled across his face. He knew Race really cared about him, but small acts of kindness like that never failed to make Spot swell with happiness. He bent down and picked up the blanket, knowing if he left it there either himself or Race would trip over it, and stood back up, a folded piece of paper catching his eye. He grabbed the sheet of paper, squinting in the sunlight.

Heya Spottie, hope you slept well <3 I ran out for some groceries earlier, I cooked up some scrambled eggs and there’s extra in the fridge if you want it! Also, when I get out of the shower, we’re having a chat about your sleeping habits, because they’re not healthy >:p

P.s: I noticed the daffodil is starting to wilt, so while I was out, I picked up a friend! Sleep well, Spot.

- The Best Boyfriend Ever, Race. x

Spot snorted, tossing the not back onto the bench, looking over at the vase, where a second daffodil had joined the first. His smile grew wider as he sat back, admiring the pair of flowers, he really did have a soft point for daffodils. Maybe because of the way light rolls off the edges of the petals. Maybe it was because of the pollen, or the nostalgia they brought him, it didn’t really matter. He shifted the vase slightly, speckles of golden light splashing over the bench and up the walls. He sighed contentedly. Whatever the reason, Spot really liked daffodils. Probably because they reminded him of home.

--

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (32/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: all of my thanks to all of you for reading these words and enjoying them and to @resident-of-storybrooke​ for reading all of these words beforehand to make sure they make sense ❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

Killian’s shoulder is stiff when he wakes up. It’s not necessarily painful which is more than good considering how it’s been for a few weeks now, but it is definitely stiff. He’s sure that it has to do with spending most of yesterday stuck in a car with the Nolans because there were photographers waiting for him at the airport, and he immediately told David to turn around because he was not going in there with vultures waiting for him like that.

That decision may as well have screwed up his shoulder that little bit more, but sitting in the safety of Mary Margaret’s SUV is probably exactly what kept his mind intact.

No one in that car asked him any questions about his dad or his injury or Milah. No one there brought up everything he’s trying to forget. It’s simply a little hard to forget it all when he was trying to watch his team’s game last night and thirty minutes was spent talking about an article that is apparently determined to take over his life.

Fuck Walsh Osborne and fuck Brennan Jones.

They deserve nothing.

All he’s trying to do is play baseball and live his life. He never wanted any of this. He never asked for any of it.

The past two days of his life have been hell, and he’s been away from it all where it couldn’t honestly and truly get to him. Killian’s been in Maine trying to have a good time with his girlfriend and her family, and he’s avoided his phone as much as possible so as to not see all of the backlash. Emma has done the same.

Of course, he did have an extremely concerned brother who was also torn apart by their shitty excuse of a father lying and finally using them for money he’s probably already gambling away. He also had Elsa and Anna worried sick. That’s not even mentioning Will and Robin or Eric and Ariel.

God, Ariel.

She’d gone absolutely ballistic. Killian doesn’t think he’s ever actually heard that many curse words come out of her mouth, but in the hour that he spent talking to her (it was pretty much fifty minutes of her talking, ten minutes of him, and that’s being generous), he learned about an entirely new side of Ariel Fisher.

Or, at least, her mouth.

She is willing to go to war for him. All of these people are, and as flattered and grateful as Killian is for that, right now he is exhausted. Simply thinking about everything that’s going on in his life is exhausting. Hell, he’s just woken up thirty seconds ago, and his brain has already focused in on these catastrophic parts of his life in the damn article and his damn shoulder.

He’ll have to do some of his exercises before he goes into the stadium to meet with Archie for his physical therapy.

Physical therapy before physical therapy. What a concept.

He’ll also have to read the press statement that Ariel has written to be released. It’s all carefully thought out and lawyer approved and absolutely everything that he doesn’t want to say. He wants to say that the people spreading lies about him are the fucking scum of the earth. Instead he has to release a statement politely stating that while he doesn’t usually give out comments on his personal life, he will say that there are parts of his past of which he is not proud but they are in the past. They are not part of his present.

There’s some shit in there about his father and how his words were untrue, but he left that part to Ariel and some of the team’s PR managers to write. Killian knows that he’s too emotional about that to say anything that is even remotely acceptable.

The one part of the statement that he carefully crafted himself is the one at the end where he states in very clear words that Emma has earned every bit of her success in her career, exemplifies the height of professionalism every day, and that insinuating that a woman has advanced in her career because of who she is dating is a form of sexism that he will not tolerate. He may have screwed up in the past when he asked her out, but he’s learning that stupid questions and games aren’t always okay no matter how well-intended they are. Other people should learn too.

That’s all that he cares about the world knowing. They can think all kinds of shit about him and his past and what he did to his father, but they’re not going to get to think that Emma has slept her way up the ladder.

There’s no way in hell.

Slowly, Killian moves to sit up in bed, the covers barely draped over his waist, and starts doing a few short movements with his arm. Emma is still asleep on her side of the bed, nearly all of the blanket bunched around her, and he has to be careful not to wake her up. She is not a fan of being woken up for anything other than food or sex. And sometimes not even those two.

(She always wakes up for food.)

He pads out of his bedroom and down the hallway to the room where he keeps his gym equipment. It’s supposed to be a spare bedroom, but since he already has one of those, he didn’t see the point in having two when he has more use for a bit of a personal gym. Slipping into his sneakers and tying the laces, Killian gets dressed to go for his morning jog. He’s still half asleep, is still wearing the sweatpants that he slept in, but this is going to have to work. He turns on the television so that he has something to distract himself, finding whatever morning show that it is that airs for what seems like ten hours a day, and then he starts a slow jog to try to loosen himself up a little bit.

And to make himself forget.

Focusing on the different ways that his body aches and on the way that he’d rather be in bed usually keeps his mind off of everything else that’s in there fighting for dominance.

Nothing like killing himself with exercise to calm himself down.

It’s an hour run, no more and no less, and sweat is dripping down his entire body by the time that he’s finished. Killian has to towel himself down, wiping away the sweat from his chest and his back before running the cloth through his hair. His shoulder is still stiff, so he picks up the free weights and runs through a few repetitions until he knows that he can’t push himself any further.

In the past, Killian has always pushed himself past his limits, especially when his mind is the one attacking him, but he can’t do that anymore. That’s how he ends up in situations like this.

That and lying his ass off about the kind of pain he’s in.

By the time he finishes exercising, the sun has risen outside, sunshine shining brightly through the glass windowpanes. Having such large windows everywhere is great until he has a bit of a headache and needs a large cup of coffee, about a gallon of water, and something to eat.

Water. He desperately needs water right now. And food.

Killian takes off his socks and shoes and wanders into the kitchen, fixing himself a glass of cold water to drink before making himself some oatmeal. It’s not really what he wants, but it will have to do for this morning. He’ll eat something more filling in the clubhouse.

Soft hands wrap around his stomach, gentle fingers trailing up and down the hair on his chest, and Killian can feel Emma pressing into him and nuzzling her nose in between his shoulder blades. He smiles and puts his spoon back in the bowl on his countertop before placing his hand over both of hers and patting against his abs. Her lips are smooth when they press against his skin in response.

“I thought this a few days ago,” she mumbles, and he can practically hear the sleepy smile in her voice, “but I’m incredibly happy with my life choices right now.”

“And why’s that, love?”

“You’re really damn hot.”

Killian snorts, unable to help himself, and chalks up the heat in his cheeks to him still being warm from exercise. “And by that you mean incredibly sweaty and gross from my workout.”

Emma hums against his skin and tightens her arms around his stomach. “You know, that is exactly what I was trying to say.”

“I thought so. How’d you sleep?”

“Really good actually.” She kisses his back once more before releasing him and stepping around to the side so that he can see her rumpled hair and the way that the t-shirt she’s wearing is falling off of her shoulder. Emma hops up onto the counter, something she’s been doing a lot lately in the mornings, and lets her legs dangle. There are red pillow marks against her cheek. “Your bed is about a million times more comfortable than the one at Ruth’s. I think it hurt my back.”

Killian chuckles and moves to take another bite of his oatmeal before the remaining bit gets cold. “So, you turn twenty-eight in a month, and you’re already preparing to be an old woman. I like that you’re ahead of the game.”

“Twenty-eight is in no way old. Plus, you’re, like, nine months older than me, so you’re not allowed to ever call me old.”

“Nine months is not a long time.”

“Tell that to a pregnant woman.”

“True,” Killian admits, scooping up some more oatmeal. “Do you want something to eat before you go get ready for work?”

“Not hungry.”

“You are always hungry in the morning, Swan.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The pieces click together in Killian’s mind, and he sighs before stepping in between her legs and reaching his hands up to push all of her stray hairs behind her ears so that he can look into the emerald of her eyes. “So, you’re nervous then?”

“Nope.”

“Emma.”

“I’m nervous as hell,” she admits. That didn’t take much coaxing. “I don’t think…I mean, no one is going to say anything to me. I’m almost sure of it, especially because the only people I’m working with today are Ruby and Jeff and the guys…but I feel like.” She sighs, and he runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek to get her to look back up at him. “I feel like I’m going to have to start over again.”

“You’re not going to have to start over.”

Emma nods her head and leans her cheek into his palm while her eyes close, blonde lashes landing against freckles. “I know. I’m just – I never got to have anything that was simply mine until I was older. I always had to share everything, if there was anything to share. But my work: that has always been mine. Having to deal with people trying to take that away from me is terrifying.”

“No one,” he starts, tapping his thumb, “is taking your job away from you. Are the comments you’re inevitably getting going to suck? Yes. But they’re not true. You know they’re not true, and I know they’re not true. My Emma is too strong to let the words of some misogynistic assholes bring her down.”

She chuckles and opens her eyes before leaning forward and pressing her forehead against his. Her lips brush over his, nothing more than the lightest of fleeting kisses, but her lips never leave his long enough for him to feel her falling away. Emma’s hands ghost over his neck until they’re landing on his shoulders, nails digging into skin, and her lips start moving over his in a slow, lazy kiss that has him tasting the mint of her toothpaste and feeling the warmth of her tongue.

Killian hums into it, tilting his head to the right to deepen the kiss, and Emma’s hands pull him closer into her while the hairs on his arms stand at attention. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of kissing her, not like this. And not when her lips trail along his jaw and down his neck, tongue flat against his pulse.

“Darling, as much as I want you, and trust me, I always want you, we don’t have time.”

“I have time,” she mumbles.

“Aye, you do, but what I have in mind takes two of us.”

Laughter passes through Emma’s lips as she pulls back from him, and Killian immediately misses the warm press of her lips. “I’m going to go take a shower in the guest room because I think I’m going to need you to drive me to work.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because there’s a hell of a lot of photographers outside your apartment, and the only way out of here without me punching a camera is through the garage.”

“For fucks sake,” Killian groans, stepping out of Emma’s legs and walking over to the kitchen window to look at the small mass of people waiting outside his apartment. “I’m a baseball player. I literally throw a ball for a living. It’s not that interesting.”

“So, you’ll drive me then?”

“Yeah, Swan. I will. I’ve got to leave in thirty minutes so be quick.”

-/-

A few teammates and managers are in the clubhouse when Killian walks through, and while the room does quiet a bit when he initially walks in, everything goes back to normal as Killian goes through his locker, most of his gear untouched for two weeks now. He’s been here a few times, not every day like he usually is, but it’s still odd to show up for physical therapy and strength training while not actually playing.

His teammates rely on him, and yet he is a bit of a mess right now. They probably all are too. Their lives simply aren’t splashed across the pages of tabloids and on Instagram. He hasn’t seen most of it, all of the apps shut down on his phone, but Ruby has been keeping track and talking to Emma about it.

It’s…a lot.

And everyone now knows more about him than he ever wanted them to.  

But it’s fine. It has to be fine. He’s simply here to have his shoulder worked on, and nothing else is going to bother him. He hopes Emma’s day goes much the same. Honestly, that’s what he’s most nervous about especially with how nervous she was this morning and on the car ride over. Her leg never stopped fidgeting.

Today is a huge game with the play-offs being on the line, but he’s not going to still be around the stadium this afternoon. He thought about it and wanted to be there, still kind of wants to, but just being in the locker room today is a little overwhelming. Plus, he doesn’t want to make today any harder on Emma by having her have to interact with him at work. He’ll be around for all of the other big moments to give awful hope-induced speeches and celebrate in the post-game high. Today, he’ll simply watch in the comfort of Liam’s home.

“Oi,” Will greets, slapping Killian’s back. “How was Maine?”

“Fine.”

“Did you impress Emma’s mom?”

Killian almost corrects Will, but he knows it’s not necessary. “I mean, besides her learning about all of my dirty laundry, I do think she genuinely liked me.”

“Well, if she can get past all of that, you’re golden, ponyboy.”

He laughs and rolls his eyes, looking over to Will and the big cheesy smile on his face. “I mean, you got past all of that and are still joking around with me.”

Will shrugs his shoulders. “We’ve all got shit going on in our lives, but my face isn’t handsome enough for me to be a celebrity outside of baseball. I’m just good at my job all on my own.”

Killian reaches out to punch Will’s shoulder but he dodges it, sticking his tongue out. “Asshole.”

“Pretty much. Can you practice with me today?”

“Nah, not today. My doctor’s appointment is in two weeks for him to check up on my arm. I might get to come back then, so you guys better clench the playoff’s spot today so that I can finish this season out on the right note.”

“I’ll try my hardest. Keep your chin up, Jones. You’re prettier that way.”

-/-

Killian works with Archie on his arm for an hour before doing some more strength conditioning for his core, and by the time he’s out of the clubhouse and the locker room, it’s nearly two in the afternoon.

A part of him wants to go see Emma and check on her since the game won’t start for another hour and she’s been here for as long as he has, but he knows that today of all days, he might as well leave her alone while she’s working. They haven’t talked about how they want to interact around the team quite yet, mostly because he isn’t technically back to work, but also because in the three days since his life has blown up, all he’s done is talk. He’s a bit tired of it.

They’ll discuss it later.

For now, he texts her to have a good game before walking through the tunnels to the garage and getting into his car to head back to Midtown so that he can pick Addy and Lucy up from their school.

Uncle of the Year, obviously.

Twenty-five minutes later, he’s pulling into the parking lot of their elementary school, thankful that no one seems to be following him, and slamming his car door shut to walk up the front pathway of the school and pressing the buzzer to the front door to get in. it doesn’t matter how many times he picks them up, the front office secretary always seems to forget who he is.

“Name,” she says through the speaker.

“Killian Jones.”

“Who are you here to pick up?”

“Addison and Lucy Jones.”

It takes a few seconds, and he’s sure that she’s typing in their information. “You’re not one of their parents.”

“Aye, I know,” he sighs, rolling his eyes a bit. “I’m their Uncle. My name is on their approved list. It’s – ”

“Oh, I see you now, Mr. Jones,” she interrupts like clockwork. “I’m buzzing you in. Please wait in the lobby, and the girls will be brought to you.”

Killian nods his head and opens the door after it clicks. Addy and Lucy usually have their nanny pick them up from school since Liam and Elsa are at work, but in the few times he’s done it, he’s quickly learned the routine. He knows that their teacher is currently standing under an awning on the other side of the school with all of the children who are being released to their regularly scheduled guardians, and the teacher’s aide will be the one to bring the girls to him at the front of the school. It always takes about five minutes, and sure enough, after a little over four minutes, he sees two blonde heads of hair come into his view, their backpacks nearly as large as they are.

Out of instinct, he squats down to their level because he knows they’re about to tackle him with an embrace. Sure enough, they do, and Killian swears that his heart grows three sizes like he’s the damn Grinch.

“Why weren’t you at dinner last night?” Addy immediately asks him in leu of a hello.

“I was in Maine. Do you know where Maine is?”

“Nope.”

Killian grabs both of their hands, squeezing Lucy’s a little tighter, and the leads them out the front door so that they can walk toward the parking lot to his car.

“Maine is another state, like New York, and it’s where Emma was born. I spent my weekend there with her.”

“Where is Emma?” Lucy asks.

“She’s at work.”

“Why aren’t you at work?”

Isn’t that the question?

“I hurt my shoulder, Luce. Remember?”

She nods her head.

“Is Emma coming to dinner tonight?” Addison asks him as he opens the back door to his car and lets her climb across to the booster seat that he had to put in his car this morning.

“She’s supposed to, but she might be a little late.”

The girls continue to ask him questions about Emma. Their brains never cease to stop coming up with new ones, and it honestly makes him laugh that they’re so interested in what she’s doing and where she is. It only stings the slightest bit that every time they see him, all they truly care about is seeing Emma.

Then again, that’s exactly how he is too.

They ask for ice cream, and while he would usually stop, Killian is under strict instructions from Elsa not to give them sweets since they’re having some with dinner tonight. So, ever the bearer of bad news, he has to tell them no as they drive through the city on the way to their house. Traffic is surprisingly good, especially for the time of day, but they don’t have to travel far until he’s pulling into the garage and helping the girls grab their things to go inside.

In the ten minutes that they were in the car, they somehow managed to lose all four of their shoes, a hair bow, and Lucy’s favorite stuffed animal.

Just amazing. Honestly.

Killian fixes the two of them a snack, slicing up an apple and some peanut butter, before giving them glasses of water and listening to them both go into very detailed instructions about their days. Addy is obviously more talkative, but they used water colors in Lucy’s preschool class today and the girl is hyped over them.  

Seriously. He doesn’t think she has ever been so excited about anything. She may very well be taking after her grandmother in the artistic skills department.

For the next hour, he helps Addy through her few assignments so Liam and Elsa don’t have to deal with it when they get home, but then they’re finished with all of that (thank goodness because getting a six-year-old to focus on school when she’s just left school is damn difficult), and he’s able to turn on the game.

It’s the bottom of the third, and both teams are still scoreless. Arthur is currently up to bat, and while he makes Killian’s jaw clench, he’s a damn good baseball player who they need. You simply can’t win everything.

“Are we winning?” Addy asks before she crawls up next to him and cuddles into his side.

“Not yet, little love.”

“It’s because you’re not playing. They’re not as good without you.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” he sighs, having to bite back his laugh. “We’re a team. They need all of us to be good.”

“Yeah, but you’re the best.”

“You only think that because I’m your uncle.”

“Maybe. All of my friends think you’re cool except for Billy who likes the Red Sox.”

She shifts against him and Lucy does the same, and he swears their elbows are the sharpest objects on the planet. Arthur’s bat makes contact with the pitch, and it flies to the outfield only to be caught and end the inning. Damn. They had two people on base. That could have been huge. The camera changes from the field to Emma where she’s standing just outside the dugout holding a microphone in her hand talking about how today’s game can officially clench their playoff spot. They’re going to make it. All they have to do is win one of their next ten games, and even then, they’d still qualify based on how everyone else in the league is doing.

He’d kind of like to be the number one seed going in, though.

“Do you and Emma have any babies?”

What the hell?

Killian blinks several times before looking down at Addison, who doesn’t seem to realize what she’s just said. She’s simply looking at the television screen still watching Emma.

“No, sweetheart,” he stutters out, “we don’t have any babies.”

“Why not?”

“Um, because it’s not time for us to have babies yet. Babies are loud and messy, and they smell bad, you know? I think it’ll still be a few years before Emma and I have any babies.”

Holy shit. Did he just say that?

How does he get out of this conversation?

“Okay,” Addy shrugs. “I’m going to brush my teeth. They feel fuzzy.”

At that, she gets up from the couch and moves to walk away. Okay, so that’s how he gets out of that conversation.

Kids are so damn weird.

Each inning in the game seems to go on for more than forever, the outs slow to come for each team, and the Yankees finally score in the bottom of the sixth with Booth’s single. It’s a relief, even if there is still a lot of game to be played, but Killian gets distracted by it all when Elsa and Liam walk through their garage door and there’s a bit of chaos with the girls immediately having to tell their parents everything they’ve already told him about their day.

Including the fact that he and Emma don’t have any babies. That gets him quite the look from Liam. Eventually, though, Elsa moves the girls to the kitchen, leaving him with a not-so-subtle wink. She’s very obviously giving he and Liam time to talk, and as much as he appreciates that, Killian also doesn’t want to talk anymore. He wants to lay on this couch and watch this game and not do anything else.

Liam obviously has other ideas.

“I have been contacted by no less than fifteen people today asking me to give my statement or appear on one of those inane morning shows to tell, and I quote, ‘my side of the story.’ It simply makes me wonder how many of these shows Brennan has offers to be on.”

Killian scoffs. “I imagine all of the seedy ones, but I don’t think he’ll do it.”

“No?”

“No.” Killian crosses his legs over each other and props his hands behind his head. “I’ve thought about it a hell of a lot, and I think he did this to hurt us more than the money. Walsh couldn’t have paid him that much. He doesn’t make much money. And it’s not as if there were a lot of details. If he wanted money, he would have gone to a bigger publication. Maybe he’ll do that if there’s enough interest, but I think it was more about hurting me.”

“Do you really think he’s that petty?”

Killian arches a brow. “Brennan Jones? We’re talking about the same man, aren’t we? Of courseOf course , he’s that petty. He only cares about himself. Always has. That’s not going to change.”

Liam sighs and taps his fingers against the wood of the side table. “How are you handling things?”

“Just peachy, thanks.”

“Killian.”

“What?” he sighs, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can actually look at Liam. “I’m pissed. I’m upset. I’m angry. There are so many emotions swirling around in my head that I can’t even keep track of how I feel. And there’s nothing I can actually do about it, you know? The damn thing has spread like wildfire, and I can’t stop it. My statement can’t stop it either. The only real option that I have is possibly suing that bastard for libel, and all that will do is drag both Emma and me into a legal battle that’s simply not worth fighting.”

Liam doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to be said. They hashed all of this out over the phone. Killian ranted before Liam took his turn. Brennan deserves absolutely no space in either of their minds, but he manages to find it anyways. It is exactly the thing that has fire burning in the pit of Killian’s belly.

“I’m going to be fine,” Killian says to fill the silence that the sounds of the baseball game on the television aren’t filling. “You will be fine. Emma too. It’s just…I hate that it happened, but I can’t change it. I can’t change it, and I can’t fix it. Hopefully things will calm down as the days pass. I imagine that once I start playing again, this will simply be a footnote.”

“You know,” Liam begins, “a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.”

Killian can’t help but roll his eyes. He’s heard that line a few times before, and it’sit’s always so damn pompous no matter how true it is.

“Yeah, well, the only thing I’m currently willing to fight for is the woman on that TV screen right there. She’s sticking by me because she loves me, and I am not dragging her through the mud anymore.”

“I think I’d likely do the same.”

“I know you would.”

“Daddy,” Lucy screeches as she runs into the room, loose curls escaping her braid and framing her face, “Mommy says that you have to come and put the steaks on the grill outside.”

“Well,” Liam starts as he stands and walks over to Lucy to pick her up and rest her on his hip, “if Mommy says so, then I guess I must.”

The two of them leave the room, and Killian is left to his own thoughts once more. One day, his life won’t be this complicated. It will be complicated in other, different ways, but it won’t be complicated quite like this. One day he will be carrying his own child on his hip, hopefully one he’s had with Emma, and all of the struggles of the day will be put so far in the past that he barely remembers them.

There’s a loud cheering coming from the TV, and Killian twists his head to look at Will running around the bases after hitting a home run.

“Damn, Scarlet,” he mutters under his breath with a smile on his face.

That smile grows a little more when the camera pans to his entire team jumping up and down in excitement, practically shaking the entire stadium. The shiver that runs over Killian’s body makes him feel like he’s there.

God, he’s missed the feeling of being a part of the team like that.

He’s missed playing.

But he’s going to get back to it soon. He has to. His arm is going to get better and be better.

Emma comes onto screen then, a beatific smile on her face that causes his to grow too. “Well,” she starts, laughing at something off screen, “it looks like we’re going to the playoffs.”

[mysticsandwich]

what was it, around may of 2014, I sold my truck and all of my camera equipment, probably for way less than what it was worth. I bought a bunch of random hiking and backpacking/camping gear and a bus ticket from orlando all the way across the country to spokane washington. I had decided to volunteer on a vineyard/family farm thru wwoof, worldwild organic orginzation of farmers. you basically work like 4-8hrs a day and in exchange you get some form of housing and food. I’d be staying in a tent and get 3 meals a day. I really didnt know what to expect except I was ready for some kind of adventure and was miserable where I was. I had no idea what I was doing and about $3k in my bank account. I was an emotional mess, duh. I rode the bus for 94 hours, it was insane. I barley slept, the bus stopped about every 1-2 hrs for bathroom breaks and stretch/snack stops. I remember leaving atlanta around 12am, the random girl next to me kept falling asleep on my shoulder and waking me up. I didn’t get off of the bus until Chicago. I had an 8hr layover to the next bus. I bought a pack of menthol american spirits and walked around downtown chicago for like 6-7 hours. it was great, besides the exhaustion. it was the first time I had really walked around the heart of a real big city in my adult life. I got on the next bus and endured another 45hrs or so of bus riding to spokane washington. god I was beat. I got picked up by leah, the woman who kind of ran the whole wwoofing operation her husband and her ran. She picked me up from the greyhound station in spokane around noon, her firstborn son, henry was in the back of her truck asleep, I think he was two years old or so. She is very chatty and friendly. she hugged me upon meeting me and was very welcoming. after almost 4 straight days on buses with strangers it was very nice. she chatted as we drove out of spokane northwest to the small town of hunters,wa. after an hr and a half we arrived at a small gas station, the first store in about 30 miles. her dad owned the store/small mechanics garage all the locals got their trucks and equipment fixed at. I met her mom who ran the shop part of the store and dad who ran the store and mechanics garage. then we headed to the farm. we arrived and i met john, leahs husband. john and leah were 30 and 29 at the time, respectively. they had a house on an absolutely gorgeous 45 acre piece of land overlooking the Columbia river, a huge river that flows from canada all the way to Oregon. the property was amazing, small mountains or hills overlooking a sharp 200-300 foot drop to the wide river. they showed me my tent spot, right on a cliff below their house overlooking their house. it was amazing and gorgeous. i set up my tent and unpacked my backpack. i had to be back at the house around 7pm for dinner. i arrived and john was cooking while leah cleaned up. henry was just running around the garden that was their backyard. their entire house they built themselves. it looked like a house, kind of slumped and lopsided but normal enough. but they built it from bales of hay, wrapped in chicken wire, with spackle on the wire to look like normal walls. hardly any wood, mostly built of hay. it was very cheap to build, john did all of the wiring and plumbing hisself and hay has absolutely amazing insulating capabilities, so it was never too hot in the summer and never too cold in the winter. amazing. the first night there dinner was salad hand picked from their garden, we all just chatted and got to know eachother. I slept in my tent like a baby, the first nights sleep in like 4 days not on a bus in a seat constantly being woken up, with the sound of the nature and river below. the next day was the first day of work and learning the farm. most of the work I did there wsa trimming grape vines with john. leah would go to the gas station/country store her parents own and work, so in the morning i’d scramble up the hill to the house and john would make breakfast for me him and henry then we’d head out the vineyard. most of the work we did while I was there was trim vines. you have to snip off the weakest vines and keep the strongest ones to get the most grapes. so everyday me john and henry would go out to the vineyard, it was 10 acres big, not very big but big for two guys and a baby. me and john would each get a row of vines, we’d go down a trim and leapfrog each other, trimming all the extra vines off. henry would sleep in a stroller or waddles around john, sometimes coming to me to hangout. me and john would usually work at the same pace once I go the process down, and we’d talk the whole day till about lunch or 1pm. then go back to the house, he’d make lunch and then we’d get a break for about 2hrs. I’d usually go down to the river or take a nap in my hammock. then we’d meet around 3pm and work on another farm project, maybe fixinga a drain or a fence, etc. then leah would come home and we’d all make dinner. these people were so kind and just took me in and included me in their lives and family and farm, gave me good advice, etc. they told me of their adventures from their earyl 20′s. they both went to new zealand and traveled and worked for about 2 years. leah was a white water raft guide and john worked on bikes. they did that and hiked thru new Zealand. they went bak to america and saved money, then hitchhiked down the entirety of south america for a year. then decided to return to leahs parents hometown and start eh vineyard. amazing people, very warm and kind and hardworking. i was so lost at this point in my life and they gave m a good goal of how I wanted to be or at least were very positive role models. so went about 2 months, working with john mostly, hanging with leahs family, meeting their friends, working hard, learning about growing wine grapes, learning alfalfa farming, hitchiking to town, reading a lot. then late june hit, and john and leah got 3 more WWOOFers. 3 girls from rhode island, culinary students on a summer road trip, wwoofing to see where organic food comes from. two were very pretty and all 3 were very nice. they set up thier tent and I became their tour guide, showing them how all the work was done, how the farm and house worked. they liked to drink and party, were all older than me. we had a good time, though my work ethic kind of went ot shit, distracted by a bunch of girls haha. it was nice to be the only guy around them. they were there for about 3 weeks and then were heading to another farm in northern california. they invited me to go with them. I loved the farm in spokane..but 3 college girls when you’re 19...duh. so they left and I said my sad goodbyes to john and leah and hit the road with 3 college girls. we stopped all over down the west coast of the country. we all went skinny dipping in a pool in portland, one tried to sleep with me and I was too stupid to realize it. huge regret. story for another time. we finally reached pescadaro, CA. an absolutely beautiful little coastal town. the farm was owned by an absolute lunatic who thought he could talk to aliens and grew a a LOT of illegal weed. all we did for about a week was smoke weed and hangout with crazy vagrants the farm owner brought in, the absolute opposite of john and leahs farm. I liked the 3 girls but I missed john and leah a lot then. I was supposed to go visit my bestfrind, Gabe, in texas at some point that summer and after a week at this sketchy “farm” I decided to leave. the girls, katie, becca and kristen were awesome and i was pretty much in love with katie, but it was time to go. so they drove me to san fransisco and I got on a greyhound bus around midnight around the end of july and headed for texas. before I left the farm in pescadaro the head “farmhand” there gave me about 2 ounced of weed as a parting gift. being 19 and dumb I took it. I put the damn thing in my backpack and got on the greyhound. I slept from san fran to LA and from La to around new mexico. more bus riding, yay. I got to el paso, tx.

-----

{2oz weed story]

[redefiningthirtysomething]

Ever have a family member that you didn't like? so much so that if they weren't related to you, you would never even consider being their friend? I have one, and that's my little sister. Sad isn't it? It wasn't always this way.

Before I get into why we don't speak, I'm not coming from a place of judgement. I'm nobody to judge, which she doesn't understand. She thinks I judge her, but in all honesty she has made poor Choices and she doesn't take accountability. I decided to set boundaries with her and that makes me "judgy" apparently.

Let's call her Rain. Rain is 5 years younger than me, so that makes her 32. She's the baby of the family and has really taken that title to the next level. This girl has always been the "crazy" one, partying a lot, following bands on tour in Mexico, boy crazy ... always getting her way. That's ok too, as long as she was always being safe. I understood that when she was 18, 19 ... 20. Rain talks a lot of shit for someone who doesn't have their shit together, and I swear it comes back to her each time. Whatever she was talking shit on happens to her.

Anyway, I can go on and on about her crazy childhood and teen years, I could probably write a book about it, time I dont have right now though. I'm just going to jump forward a bit.

2012. She went through a divorce a few years ago from the father of her kids. Very ugly, bitter divorce. Rain has 2 kids, a girl who's 10 and a boy who's 6. Rain got pregnant by a one night stand And they were forced to get married by his parents, they are very religious and felt it was the right thing. I didnt agree with that, but she went ahead and did it. They tried to make the marriage work, they got pregnant again with the boy, hoping it would help them. Rain was fed up though, she hated her life, she wanted to go out and party, be with her friends who were living their lives, but she couldn't. She hated it. She used to live next door to me, we lived in a small apartment in LA and when the neighbors moved we told them to apply for it and they got it. They lived there for about a year until one day Rain decided to leave. She took her kids and they moved in with my mom. Her husband was beside himself, he asked me for advice. I didnt know the ins and outs of the relationship, things are always different behind closed doors right ? She claimed that he beat her, he controlled her, abused her. He claimed she would sneak out to go party and didnt want to care for the kids. A lot of back and forth ... very different stories. So, he stayed in the apartment for about another year before he gave up and filed for divorce. He hoped she would come back, but she was very happy living her new life. She was living rent free and was able to go out, since our mom was home and able to watch the kids. Ok, cool.

Divorce was done and she was free. She started dating, sleeping around ... no judgement, she was single. As long as she was safe. BUT, we found out she moved some guy into my moms condo without my mom knowing. My mom works and travels alot, so it's easy for this to happen. But when my mom found out, she was upset, but didn't do anything about it. I was mad only because she has a little girl and she didn't really know this guy. Ya know? Plus the kids didn't have their own rooms, they slept with her. It was just weird for me. Anyway, couple years later they broke up and he moved out. Then another guy, and another one ... I didn't like the fact that her kids met all these new guys, or that she moved them in. It's like she cant be without a man.

Ex husband fought for 50/50 custody (thank God) and had them on the weekend. Every weekend. Also, ex husband got remarried but Rain doesn't get along with new wife. I wonder why to be honest, I met her and she's nice. I guess it's a territorial thing ? The kids love their stepmom, so that's all that matters.

Ok, now we are in 2018. I'm pregnant with Olivia. We had a falling out for a few months because she stole 2k from our mom. Not cool. They have the same name, so it was easy for her. So I hadn't spoken to her but the day I gave birth she showed up at the hospital. We spoke as if we were never in an argument. It's weird how sisters can do that, right ? I let it go, if mom didn't care why should I. After having Olivia my mom wanted me to stay at her place for 2 weeks so she could help me while I recovered. So, we moved in right after I got out of the hospital. First couple of days were nice, rain was there and was helping with the baby. Her kids were ecstatic to have us there, Bella was having a blast. I had heard of a new boyfriend that she had, but I hadn't yet met. She wanted to take it slow and not introduce him yet. I understand since all the rest were douchbag.

Rain received sad news about an ex boyfriend from high school who had been killed in a hit and run. I remember him, he was the sweetest. They had remained friends over the years so she was devastated. She planned to attend the funeral but didn't want to take her kids. Since I was staying there I offered to watch the kids, I didnt want them to have to go to the funeral.

Side note: I rarely offer to help with her kids because she never shows up the time she says. Also, I used to pick up the kids from school and I had to take them to my place until she got home, usually late and I had to help with homework and dinner. It was hard for us sometimes as we had things to do and we had to take her kids with us. However her kids love us, they say we are the parents they wish they had.

Ok, back to the story. She goes to the funeral.

Day 1: A few hours go by and it's getting later and later. I'm about 5 days post partum, so naturally I'm exhausted. Mom is at work, so we're just at my moms place hanging out. I text her, no response. I text again, no response. I'm starting to worry. I put all the kids to bed and assure the kids they'll see their mom in the morning. Around midnight my phone rings and it's an unknown number. I answered right away since I was worried about rain. It's one of rains old friend from high school who attended the funeral. He says to me that Rain had a lot to drink and was not able to get home. He says to me that she's ok, it was a rough day for all of them and he would bring her home in the morning. I had no choice, so I agreed and we hung up.

(Come to find out later that was her boyfriend on the line, pretending to be a friend from HS, she had left the funeral hours ago)

Day 2: We wake up and we get the kids ready for school. I'm still trying to get used to the new baby while juggling breakfast for the kids. Her kids kept asking about mom, so I told them she was at her best friend's house because it got late. Eli drove all the kids and then left for work. I'm home all day at my moms, had a few visitors wanting to see the baby. No word from Rain yet. No word from Rain all day. Eli picks up all the kids after school and brings them home. We make dinner and play, while attempting to call and text Rain for an answer. Mom is calling Rain leaving voicemails telling her to get her ass home. No call backs and no reply. We all go to bed. Around 2 am I heard my bedroom door open but it was dark and I could not see, I heard keys and the front door close. It took me a minute to get up, post csection, it's hard. Who was here?

Day 3: woke up, its daylight and bright in the house. I go to the kids room, maybe Rain showed up last night, maybe shes asleep. I walk in to see the kids asleep, but no Rain. I walk into her closet and I see stuff has been taken, shoes and clothes. I look for a toothbrush and it's gone. Perfumes, gone. Hmmm did Rain come last night to get her stuff ? I text Rain, now I'm mad. I'm frantically texting her that she better reply and I threaten to call ex husband. Oh? Guess what ? I got a reply. Interesting.

She texted something along the lines of: hey, its Rain. Sorry I haven't texted you. I'm having a rough time with S death. I need some time. I feel so lost. I'm with J at his place (J is her new boyfriend) . Are you ok to watch the kids, I'll be back. I'll text you.

My response: uh, well yea I mean I guess bit what should I tell them ? When are you coming back? Look, I know this is rough so I'll hang on to them until tomorrow, cool ?

I got no response after that, but at least I know she was ok. I updated mom and middle sister and we all felt better but were still shocked about how inconsiderate she was being.

Day 4: no text or phone call at all. We get the kids to school, pick them up, get homework done. Kids shower and go to bed. Her daughter who was maybe 7 or 8 at the time was worried. She was texting her too, I read her messages : mom, please come home. Where are you ?

I was so mad at this point. Her daughter was so worried and slept at the foot of the bed every night waiting for her mom. So Infuriating. I'm still exhausted and in pain.

I get a call from cousin in Florida, at around 10 pm which his time was 1am. He calls me and asks me what's going on? I had not yet told him what was happening so I was wondering what he was referring to. Rain had just called him. She was drunk out of her mind in DTLA in some bar, she was crying and yelling about how she Hates her life, how she Hates being a mom and Hates everything. Cousin told her to calm down and that he would call me to go pick her up in DTLA. We called her back on three way but cousin told me to be quiet. I listened to that mess for 30 minutes before I had to hang up. She was yelling and cussing, she told him NOT to tell me because I'm judgy ass bitch, wanna be perfect mom and I'll talk shit to her.

At this point, I'm over her. How can she do this to her kids? To me ? I'm over here, still freaking bleeding after my delivery, making sure her kids are safe and fed and loved. While she's out partying ? At bars ? I called cousin back and told him that I will not go get her in DTLA.

Day 5: I think this was a Thursday now, we had picked up the kids from school and went to shakeys pizza for dinner. No texts or calls from Rain all day. I was considering calling ex husband since the weekend was getting close. But, I remembered that he lost his weekend privileges for hitting the little boy. I didn't know what to do at this point.

Side note: little boy has behavior issues, he's been held back from kindergarten for his behavior and bad grades. He spit in his step moms face and ex husband hit him with a belt that left a mark. Rain took him to court to get full custody. He didnt lose the kids however, he had to attend parenting and anger management classes, which he did and his case was dismissed.

Day 6: no word yet. I texted her boyfriend and I told him to bring her home. I told him she has worried children. I asked him if he knew she has 2 kids at home. Want to know what his reply was?

Thank you for your concern.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONCERN !!! ??? Really?? A big fat Fuck You. I think at this point my blood pressure rose, I got heated and my neck started to pound. I cried out of frustration and sadness for my niece and nephew. I thought, what if I adopt them ? I thought about bringing them with me to AZ? Ex husband would fight me for them though. I called friends for advice. I asked middle sister for guidance. Everyone told me to report her to child protection services. But I couldn't because of the fear they would take the kids to a foster home. At that time I couldn't take them to my place. It was small and would not meet criteria for 2 extra kids. Nobody could take them if we needed. I prayed about it.

I had my finger in the phone ready to call CPS, but I couldn't do it. My mom begged me not to she begged me to continue to help with the kids until Rain got home. She told me we needed to help her, she was not ok. I didnt call them. I couldn't. I love those kids. I couldn't put them through that.

I texted Rain in one final attempt. I told her she needed to pick up her kids from school and if she did not then I was going to report her. No answer.

Turns out I didnt have to. Daughter spoke to a counselor at school and the school reported it. When Eli went to pick up the kids they did not release them to him, CPS was there. They called me shortly after and asked me what was going on. I explained to them. They called ex husband but since he couldn't take them at the time due to court restrictions they asked his parents to take them. His parents home did not meet criteria and they were taken to a foster care for the night.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I cried that night. I cried so hard. I was so mad. I was infuriated. How can she do this to them ? Did I fail them ? They must have been so scared. I had my new baby in my arms, breastfeeding and crying for those kids when I should have been enjoying every second with Olivia. I went home that night. I couldn't stay at my moms anymore.

Day 7: I wake up in a fog, still upset from the night before. I check my phone and I had a missed call from middle sister. I called her back and she tells me Rain was able to get her kids back last night from CPS and she is at home. How did that happen I ask ? Middle sister said that she thought I called CPS last night and told them it was all a misunderstanding and I was just upset about babysitting for a few hours.

What? I didn't call ...

Someone impersonated me. She had someone call pretending it was me ... that really scared me.

I called my mom and she said yes, Rain has the kids. CPS apparently asked my mom if this was true that Rain had been gone only for a few hours and my mom totally covered for her.

My mom reason behind it was because she doesn't want the kids to go to a foster home.

I didnt speak to my mom for 2 months after that call.

A couple days after that I received a text from Rain and she basically told me off and told me that she can't believe I reported her. I told to her that I did not make the call...but I should have. We completely blocked each other from everything. She told everyone we know, friends and relatives that I reported her. That's fine, I'll take it.

Get this though, this girl can't get it together to save her life. She has now lost custody of the kids to ex husband. After so much drama, her showing up late for drop offs and pick ups, showing up drunk, starting fights with new wife, picking kids up late from school ... ex husband documented everything and he got a video of her drunk at pick up. The kids now live with him in a house and are doing so well. They're so happy. They chose to live with dad. Oh and the things the kids told the judge, so sad. Apparently she doesn't even cook for them. She's allowed visitation every other weekend. She still lives with my mom, has NO job, no goals... she just parties and hangs out with that douch.

My mom was out of town when this court meeting happened and Rain lost the kids, so nobody actually heard why she lost them. Apparently she told mom that it was because of me, that the judge said MY NAME and that I wrote a letter or some bullshit. And my mom question me about it. First of all, so not true, they cant just use my name and say things without me being there, seriously. I wonder about my mom sometimes.

Ex husband allows me to talk to the kids whenever I want. He was the only person who thanked me for keeping his kids safe and loved. And yes he did ask me for help in taking the kids from my sister, but I said no. I decided to stay out of that.

That is something that I will never ever forgive my sister for. What she put me though, my family... and what she put her kids through. I'm not a perfect mom, not at all, but you just dont do that. And although I see her around at gatherings or holidays, we dont speak. She's not there, I completely ignore her. I go about my time with the family. I have a very strong set boundary with her and she knows it.

She knows that I didnt report her but she needs someone to blame. She cant accept her fault, but she knows. We know.

[harryandmolly]

The Long Way Home -2-

Summary: His world is a little rocked when Shawn is joined on his 2019 world tour by Emma, a former child star with a chip on her shoulder and a voice that haunts him.

Warnings: Language, brattiness, popstar angst

Word count: in the neighborhood of 3.8k

Emma wakes up on the wrong side of the bed again.

Physically, it’s the wrong side of the bed. For as long as she can remember, in whatever bed she’s slept in, from the fifth floor walk-up shithole in Ladera Heights to her grandfather’s house in Louisiana to every five star hotel she’s patronized, she’s slept on the right side of the bed.

Since her team for tour is more modest than that of a headliner, she took advantage of the opportunity to trick out her bus. She replaced the back lounge with a whole bedroom rather than a bunk under a snoring make-up assistant. It’s not the grungey first world tour experience but, fuck it. She has the money and she wants the privacy.

But this bed situation must be really throwing her off. She wakes up on the left side three mornings in a row and it puts her in a fouler mood than she already has been.

She stands slowly, feeling a familiar ache in the balls and heels of her feet, her knees and her lower back. She has the body of an 18-year-old plagued with the ailments of a 60-year-old and there’s no real wonder why with seven days a week of Pilaticardio on top of choreography rehearsals for tour.

Choreography was one of the many things she fought against and clearly lost out to the opinions of her managers, agents and mom. She had plenty of dance experience, sure, you don’t get to be Miss Little California 2010 without being able to put together a jazz square, but she never pictured herself dancing on stage.

She shakes the thought from her head, unwilling to go down that road so early in the morning. If she starts the mental list of all the things she’s doing now that weren’t as she pictured, she’d just get back in bed and she can’t because tour starts today.

Tour. Starts today.

She does almost crawl back into bed but Margaret’s at the door going through her schedule as Emma strips naked and changes into an Ivy Park workout ensemble that she thinks Mabel, her stylist, one of the only people on this bus she can stand to have half a real conversation with, would approve of.

Emma marches out of the converted back lounge bedroom past her troops – Mabel sitting with a bowl of steel cut oatmeal, Carmela, her trainer, in a ball cap holding resistance bands that make her cringe just looking at them. Her make-up and hair team are still in bed, she thinks, because she won’t be needing them until after her torture session. She hates them a little for getting to sleep late but she blames the bitterness on the early hour.

Before tea, before avocado toast, before coherent thought comes Pilaticardio and all its associated agony. Carmela spread out mats and equipment in the empty parking lot outside the venue beside their bus. When they start getting their blood moving, Emma remembers, as she does every morning, why she puts up with it. Pilaticardio makes her feel strong. Emma doesn’t live the kind of life where she feels strong often. From the outside, she looks like the top of the operation, the head of the dragon, making decisions and directing her destiny. It couldn’t be further from the truth. She obeys Carmela’s every instruction but still commands her own body in a way no one can control but her. She revels in it.

When it ends, she’s powerless again, resigned to be whisked off for a five minute shower, breakfast and into hair and make-up for her first ever soundcheck.

She’s not listening to Margaret as they stride across the blacktop toward the venue. She cradles her sweating water bottle in her hands, tapping her manicured claws against the strong plastic.

Emma can’t help herself. She glances at the bus she knows to be Shawn’s, strains to hear some activity, narrows her eyes to look for signs of life. Her heart races just at the sight of it, which she dutifully ignores in favor of her analytical approach.

She tilts her chin up proudly. She’s awake and working hard before the headliner. She assumed this would be the case as Shawn doesn’t need a glam squad to get him looking that good. Plus, it’s her MO. If she works twice as hard as everyone around her, she wins. That’s been ingrained since birth, since her pageant days, since her biggest worry was if she could twirl a baton faster than the girl next to her that her mom always called chubby but really she just had a sweet round face.

Emma carries herself even taller in her skyscraper wedges, practically strutting past Shawn’s bus. She assures herself it’s not because she wants him to be looking, to be watching the back pockets on her skinny black jeans. A thrill shoots up her spine at the idea, though. To have Shawn Mendes’s eyes on her ass? Well worth the Pilaticardio.

Emma tunes back in when she hears Margaret’s voice tick up in register, indicating she’s asked a question. Emma looks at her and raises an eyebrow. Margaret, very used to repeating herself at this point, reiterates.

“Do you want your mom along on the radio interviews tomorrow?”

Emma fixes Margaret with a blank stare. Margaret’s eyebrows quirk and she nods with an exhausted sigh.

“Right. I’ll book her a massage instead.”

Emma doesn’t thank her. She doesn’t acknowledge her. She keeps walking, her heartburn kicking in earlier in the morning than usual.

Appropriate, then, that her first single, the thing that’s been kicking up almost as much fuss in her team as this tour, is called “Fireheart.” “Fireheart” was first played for her by a team of producers in a frigid conference room on the 40th floor of a building in downtown Los Angeles where all the bad things happen to her. She remembers smiling in that way that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s perfect,” she croaks. In her head, she’s tearing her hair out.

She went home that night to her 6-bedroom palace in the Hollywood Hills, the only place she gets to be alone (at least sometimes) and cried so hard she busted blood vessels in her cheeks that she knew would make the make-up artists think she’s bulimic and she doesn’t have the energy to correct them.

“Fireheart” isn’t a bad song. She chants this in her head as she springs up the steps to the artist entrance of the venue with Margaret hot on her heels. This chant has a tune associated with it now for how often she desperately repeats it. She bobs her head along with the imaginary beat, walking past her vocal coach with a nod and a shallow grin as she walks onstage.

She feels nothing when she looks out into the 17,000-capacity arena, empty and waiting for her to bring it to life. She stands on the edge of the stage, painted toes almost hanging off the edge, willing a little bit of danger to get her blood pumping. It’s the only thing that does anymore.

Her vocal coach Steven stands behind her, feeding her warmup exercises. She stares at the fourth seat in the third row, wondering who will be there tonight, wondering if she’ll be a little girl screaming her name, or screaming “Becky,” the character she played on Fake It Til You Make It. She answers to that name as easily as she answers to Emma. It doesn’t matter anymore. Neither of them are her. Not really.

Soundcheck goes off without a hitch. Her voice is sounding great, thanks to Steven. Just to be safe, since it’s her first tour and her voice is so green, he has her on vocal rest for the rest of the afternoon. If he weren’t 54, gay and married, she’d plant one on him.

Emma retreats to the bus for a conference call with the label about her single release, a dreadful reminder that this precious vocal rest can’t last. The single drops in two weeks and they’ve been hyping it up for months like it’s a fucking Beyonce album. Radio interviews are set up all over Europe. They’ve picked the treatment for the music video, which they’ll shoot on a day off during their stint in LA in July. Everything is almost ready for her debut, her sugar pop, twinkly-eyed, auto-tuned debut.

Thank god she can be silent for that call. And thank god no one but Margaret can see the faces she’s making.

When it ends, she feels that familiar 3pm defeated feeling. On her persistently buzzing phone, she types up an “I need 30 minutes. Please” message in her notes app and shows it to Margaret. Margaret acquiesces with a sharp nod.

Emma stumbles into her bus bedroom and shuts the door, slumping against it for a 10-second pity party, hanging her head.

In five steps, she’s at the foot of her bed, yanking at her shoes and reaching for her magenta wireless Beats at the same time. She hops onto the Casper mattress she insisted on and feels her bones sing her praises for relieving them.

But before she descends into a quick rest, she crawls on her knees to the window at the head of her bed and peers out through the slatted blinds, again looking toward Shawn’s bus curiously. Lights are on now, of course, it’s midafternoon and he’s soundchecking after her. She has great timing, apparently, because the door opens and, behind a few scraggly band members she can’t remember the names of, he steps out in Nike shorts and a pink hoodie that makes her release a funny noise from the back of her throat.

She studies him, the way he turns and responds to one of his friends with a barking laugh that makes him throw his head back. He runs up behind another one and claps a hand on his shoulder, facing away from her so she can’t see him but she imagines he looks like he’s having the time of his life.

That 3pm wave of indescribable sadness is ebbing closer and if she doesn’t head it off at the pass, it’ll crush her. She licks her lips and lies face up on the mattress over her Egyptian cotton sheets, feeling a rush of relief in her veins like heroin when her headphones go on and the music starts.

She closes her eyes and rests a hand in her stomach while the other rakes through her hair. When she’s this far away from everything, she can pretend the hand doesn’t belong to her, that it’s someone else doing a job she’s done her whole life – soothing her, talking her off a ledge.

“I pretend that I’m not ready, why do we put each other through hell? Why can’t we just get over ourselves?”

+

Shawn lives for the feeling he gets before a big show, and there’s no show bigger to him than a tour opener.

He’s been bouncing off his dressing room walls for hours, it feels like. He’s so jazzed by the thrumming in the walls of the Ziggo Dome as it fills to the brim with tens of thousands of screaming fans that came to see him. He can’t imagine this level of energy coming from anywhere else. It’s fucking addictive. He wishes everyone could try it.

When a team of women looking solemn storm past his open door, he knows Emma is near. Sure enough, his room of band mates and other team members falls silent as she brushes past the door, flanked by her manager and her vocal coach.

She’s dressed for the show in a spangley blue dress and matching high tops. Her hair is blown out and her eye make-up is dark. As she passes the door in a long, modelesque stride, they lock eyes for only a fraction of a second before she’s looking away like she didn’t see him. He shivers.

“She’s really starting to freak me out,” Zubin mutters.

Shawn frowns. “She’s just… cold,” he mutters, puzzled.

“Fucking frigid,” Geoff replies sharply, disapprovingly, “A girl that pretty can’t be that mean, it’s so wrong.”

“She’s not mean,” Shawn defends, sitting backwards in a chair so he can lean his chest on the back panel, “I mean, she hasn’t been mean, she just hasn’t been friendly.”

“She’s barely said a word to anyone but her team since she got here. And have you seen the way she looks at them? She’s an ice queen,” Mike reasons.

Shawn knows it’s pointless but something in him wants to fight for her, fight for something in her he hasn’t even seen yet. But he’s heard her sing so he knows it’s in there.

He shrugs, noncommittally. “I’m gonna go watch her set from sidestage.”

He’s joined by the others because they’re curious to see if this lovely Fembot can put on a show. They crowd their way out into position as her music comes on. He recognizes the track from the first season’s soundtrack, her first top 10 Billboard single. He rolls his eyes at himself for how familiar he’s become with her career. He pretends it’s simply research, that it’s good sense to know about his opening act. If he’s honest, that’s not it entirely.

He makes sure she can’t see them before she walks out – he doesn’t want to make her nervous. If she’s anything like he was during his first arena show, she’s shaking like a leaf right now.

But she could’ve fooled him. She struts out onto the stage, bouncing in her cute sneakers and waving like she’s Taylor fucking Swift. And she might as well be because even though she’s the opener, at least half the stadium is shrieking her name. It’s this funny hybrid of “Emma!” and “Becky!” that, amplified, sounds more like “EMKY!”

He feels like he’s watching “Camp Rock” or something. Every move is choreographed, every line screamed to the crowd is rehearsed. Her dancing is perfect. Her pitch is on point. She might actually be an automaton after all. He’s pretty convinced until she reaches the last song of her set.

The dancers flee. Someone runs a vibrant yellow acoustic guitar out and she slides it on like it’s an extension of her. He shifts uncomfortably because he’s kind of turned on.

She pulls two pins out of her hair he couldn’t see were stuck in there and her hair falls longer and looser around her lightly bronzed arms. She smiles as the crowd cheers and murmurs something into the mic about “slowing things down for a sec” and it’s still practiced but he hears something in her voice he hasn’t yet and he’s hooked.

She swings the guitar behind her back and kneels, unlacing her sneakers. She kicks them off and stuffs her little white socks inside. Shawn and his whole group are silent, watching her with fascination. She stands upright, barefoot and gives the crowd the first genuine smile he’s seen on her. It takes his fucking breath away.

She shifts back and forth from the balls of her feet to her heels, sliding the guitar back into place across her stomach. She begins strumming softly and he recognizes the opening chords to “How I’ve Been.” He knows it well, it’s his favorite. It’s the seventh track on her third soundtrack album and the only one he’s found that boasts her as its only writing credit.

She bobs her head with the music and he finds himself joining her. She balances the guitar on her right hip, her right foot lifting onto her toes as she strums. He watches the shimmering sequins wriggle over the backs of her long, butter-soft legs. Shawn actually feels his stomach flip like he hasn’t in a very long time.

Emma’s voice is deep and throaty on this track. He loves the way it sounds in his headphones but even more now when she’s singing it live and he can hear it vibrating out of her chest. He wants to rest his head there while she sings to him but he shakes that idea as quickly as it comes and focuses. Eddy nudges his arm and makes a surprised and impressed face. Shawn quickly nods and looks back at her, unwilling to be distracted from this.

She’s here now, he can feel it, in a way she hasn’t been the whole show. The whole two days they’ve been at the venue. She’s commanding the stage in a way he didn’t learn to do at all while he was an opener, and arguably not until well into his first headlining tour. But she’s crooning into the mic like an old fucking pro, planting her feet wide and throwing vocal runs into the song that aren’t on the recorded version.

He hears himself whoop from the sidelines and he doesn’t care that his bandmates are eyeing him suspiciously. He claps loud even though he knows she can’t hear him. He’s just happy to witness this.

Her last run is the most impressive and has the whole crowd on its feet. When her voice fades, the cheering doesn’t. She lifts the guitar by the neck and grins genuinely, laughing and waving. He hears himself laughing and glances around. The guys are swept along, too, smiling and nodding to each other, mumbling about “hey, that was pretty fuckin’ good.” She’s won them all over, it seems. Shawn is content.

After a quick, humble bow, she grabs her shoes and scurries off. As she’s approaching their side of the stage, she’s still smiling down at her feet, watching where she’s walking until she sees a big group of man legs and stops dead, her smile dropping off instinctively.

“Awesome job!” Shawn practically squeals, stepping up to give her a quick, friendly hug. It’s awkward around her pretty yellow guitar and because she totally freezes when she sees him.

When he pulls back to chat with her about the set, she’s gone. Not physically, she’s still there, but whoever she was on stage might still be floating around out there in the ether, away on the wind, because she’s definitely not in Emma’s body.

Her expression is flat. She manages a dead smile and a nod. “Thanks, man. Have a good show.”

She steps aside, nodding politely at the other members of the band before stalking away, still barefoot, still sparkling. Her cast of creatures hustles behind her to keep up with her enormous steps back to her dressing room.

Shawn’s eyebrows are pulled together in thought as they wade back through the twisting backstage hallways for the last few minutes of pre-show prep, complete with rituals and superstitions. He needs to shake this weirdness before he gets out there. He wonders if he’ll catch a little bit of her, the one he saw during the last song, when he’s out there. Maybe it’s like a pixie dust he’ll breathe in and he’ll feel again like he did when he was watching her.

He doesn’t spend much time wallowing in his bewilderment, there’s too much to do. Between Andrew and the band, he’s fully occupied, no room for powerwalking blondes with long fingers and bare feet. They herd up the way they always do and prowl to the stage. The full power of the pre-show ecstasy overtakes him. He’s drunk with it, drumming his hands on his thighs, nodding his head impatiently. He’s handed a perfectly tuned electric by a tech named Joey and grins wildly, thanking him by name, which seems to take him by surprise.

When the lights go down, his heart roars in his chest. He bounces on his toes and throws his head back, shaking his hair and feeling the fire crawl up his veins.

He jogs out onstage, momentarily overwhelmed, like he always is, every night without fail, at the screams. They’re screaming for him. That’ll never not be so fucking cool.

He greets the Dutch crowd to raucous cheers and starts playing “Lost in Japan.”

He forgets to look for her until after the second song once the jitters have faded a little into welcome energy. He looks forward to her reaction and hopes she’s having a good time. He glances to the side he stood on earlier and doesn’t see her. He turns and looks the other way and frowns.

He tries not to wonder about it as he starts in on “Why” and curls a hand around the microphone with a guitar pick between his fingers. He looks down at the VIP section, assuming she wanted a better vantage point.

But no Emma.

He’s definitely thrown but continues on, willing himself to forget her absence until he’s lost in the show again.

It’s a great tour opener. Amsterdam is such a fun crowd. He thanks them profusely after his encore and jogs off, handing the guitar off again with another “thanks, Joey,” which earns him a wholehearted “great show, Shawn.”

Andrew greets him excitedly with words of genuine praise that Shawn doesn’t really register.

“Thanks, man,” he laughs, nodding at him, “Hey, did Emma leave?”

Andrew keeps his gaze level, shrugging. “She didn’t stay for your set.”

Shawn blinks. “She didn’t stay? At all?”

Andrew shakes his head. Shawn’s parted lips shut and he hums, trying to sound disinterested.

“Kay. Let’s bounce, I’m fuckin’ sweaty!”

His words are stilted and he knows if he can hear it, so can Andrew, but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

After some good-natured monkeying around and a beer or two, Shawn strips off his sweaty show clothes and showers off, letting himself think about Emma again. He wonders why she didn’t stay. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well? Maybe she’s got an early interview tomorrow, her single is dropping pretty soon, he thinks. The truth is, it doesn’t really matter. It’s impolite for an opener to leave before the headliner’s set, especially on the first show of the tour. It’s a weird vibe to throw out.

But he can’t stop thinking about her with that yellow guitar and her hair sticking to her back and her toes curled against the dirty stage floor for balance. He grows a little hard under the hot water at the thought. He throws the temperature to the cold setting, blasting himself as he plants his hands against the tile wall, breathing slowly. When it’s so cold it sucks the air from his lungs, he shuts it off and steps out to dry off.

He walks past her bus that night with his hands in his pockets and his head in the stars. He notices a light on in the back where the lounge should be but he hears she converted it to a bedroom and he scoffed when he heard it from Geoff but he’s secretly a little jealous. As he walks closer, he hears music. He strains to place it. He lifts his eyebrows when he realizes it’s Tammy Wynette.

Frowning, he slumps off to his bus, feeling a little defeated. But the tour must go on.

Taglist: @the-claire-bitch-project @smallerinfinities @crapri @stillinskislydia @carlaimberlain @heavenly—holland @abigfatmess @rosecolouredtimes

[diaryofanormalkid]

Thursday, May 2nd and Friday, May 3rd were such good days

This week started off pretty rocky because I was sleeping so irregularly, it kept messing with my work schedule and also the errands I had to take care of. But then it got better!

Monday

I started off this week on Monday working a 10:30-6:30pm shift. I think I fell asleep at 5:30am and woke up at like 8:45am to get ready for work. My shift went extremely well, except for the fact that I was super sleepy.

And then at the very end it just went haywire because I needed a certain paper to count my cash till, but we didn’t have anymore so I was running around looking for it for a good 5-10 mins.

It was the end of my shift and all I wanted to do was go home! I couldn’t believe this was happening right when I wanted to go home. I thought to myself “these things only happen to me.”

Eventually I found it and was able to count, but by the time I was done counting my till, it was a little after my shift had ended meaning I missed my usual bus to get home.

So I was stuck there waiting for a while, but not for too long. And then I walked to my bus stop and went home!

Tuesday

Today I had planned to get my high school transcripts to apply for colleges. However, after the horrendous weekend I had with little to no sleep and then going into Monday’s shift sleep deprived also, I didn’t have it in me to wake up in time to do that at all.

Even when I had woken up, I was exhausted. I believe I woke up after 1pm that day. This is what I mean when I say my sleep had become so irregular, I would wake up at different times every day.

As soon as I woke up though, I meant business. I called my high school and let them know I needed a transcript, however they let me know that I was expected to come in to physically obtain it.

Figures. I can’t lie, that was a major setback for my entire thing I had going for the week because I wanted to have these transcripts sent in as soon as possible so that I could further complete my application to apply for colleges.

And then they also informed me that it would actually be too late in the day to come and get them and that the only available time I can pick up my transcript would be in the mornings.

So... I was super limited with days that I could go in to get my transcript. I knew then, this week I would only be able to pick it up on Wednesday or Friday, since Thursday I was working.

My mom was so kind offer to take me the following day, which would mean Wednesday I would be able to get it and mail it off to the website.

So by now, I told myself at least if I’m not going anymore to get my transcript today, then I should go to pick up my friends birthday gift and card today. At the LEAST.

But seeing as how exhausted I was, I fell asleep in my couch and just spent the whole day recovering from the already tiring week. In my head I reminded myself that the next couple days I really needed to pick up my slack!

Wednesday

So here came Wednesday, a new day. And there I was again, still exhausted. I still apparently hadn’t fully recovered from all the sleep deprivation. Going to bed late Tuesday night didn’t help either.

I remember telling my mom and myself that today I would wake up at 8:30am so that we could arrive at my high school by 10am to pick up my transcript.

Did I do that? No. What I did was sleep in though. It was such a rainy, gloomy day. I had no energy to get out of bed so I slept in until about 12:30pm.

My mother was upset with me because here she was willing to give me a ride to my high school when she had work later today and there I was in bed sleeping.

I also had work today, so I didn’t have much free time to mess around and waste. I needed to make sure I was ready in time to catch my bus to work.

I managed to slip out of my house just in the knick of time to catch my bus. I have to give credit to my instincts and running abilities however, because if it hadn’t been for both, I would’ve surely missed my first bus.

I made it in time for work, and the shift surprisingly went super well once again. Which I was super happy about. It was least that could be going right in my life with all the mess that was going on lately.

This shift was from 2:30-10:30 and a fun fact is that my mom and I work at the same place, just different areas. So I always wait for her when she’s on evening shift to finish her shift.

Her shift lasts until 11:30 though, which leaves me waiting for a while. Gladly, I finished all that I had to while I was there so I made the most of my time by killing it quickly with silly things.

Thursday

Now today was another day I had work. Ironically, I wasn’t supposed to work today, it was just a last minute shift that was given to me by someone who needed me to take it.

I was happy I got it, i could really use the money after the expensive previous week I had. The catch was I had to be back first thing in the morning for this shift. 8:30-4:30pm to be exact.

I didn’t have a problem with it, as I was the one who approved to take it. However, I knew I was in for quite a shift with the lack of sleep after doing my evening shift Wednesday.

I kept telling myself on Wednesday, “okay Britney, you know you have a shift in the morning so you HAVE to make sure you go STRAIGHT to sleep once you get home.”

Did I listen to myself? No! I believe I fell asleep a little after 4am that night. And I was supposed to wake up at 6:30am so that I could leave out in time to catch my bus.

So I was barely on time to catch my bus that morning, but I still made it by God’s grace. I also almost thought I lost my phone on the bus that morning but quickly found it hiding in my bag.

So glad. By that point in the morning, I had already gone through so much anxiety just thinking about being late to work and then almost losing my phone.

The lack of sleep didn’t help at all, but regardless I was actually feeling more excited than I was anxious by the time I arrived at work. Super uncharacteristic of me, but true.

One thing I will mention is that I hadn’t worked in this part of the Tim Hortons in a long time. So while I had every reason to be nervous to come back to this part, I was still excited.

I tried to prepare myself mentally by repeating in my head “you won’t be clumsy,” “you won’t spill anything,” “there’ll be no accidents,” “positive energy,” “good vibes,” “today’s gonna be a good day,” and things of that nature.

And I kid you not, it was! I anticipated I would be a little rusty, heck and I even tried to prepare myself for the worst, just in case. But it was genuinely a really smooth shift.

I actually enjoyed my time that day. And LEMME TELL YOU... I saw my short crush! So that in itself was so rewarding to get to see him on a day I wasn’t even supposed to be there.

Short crush

So I peeped when he came really quickly because he was with a few other ppl and they kinda had a presence, all of them standing in line.

The whole time while I was taking orders, I could see him in my peripheral just staring at me subtly, but not so subtly. I was nervous but calm, cool and collected all at the same time.

By the time he got to the till, I was surprisingly able to look into his eyes and greet him hi, like any customer. I asked what I could get for him and his coworkers and they all began to state their orders.

For this I made sure to write down their orders because with how flustered I was on the inside, I knew for a fact I would forget. I took my time with it too, just to ensure that I didn’t mess anyone’s orders up.

So as I was making them, his coworkers and him were going back and forth double checking that the orders they said were correct, in the meanwhile, not realizing how confusing that was for me.

Because I was standing there making their orders thinking “should I start these over or read them back to them to make sure they’re correct?” Like what do they want from me???

I ended up just zoning them out and focusing on making what I had written down because I trusted myself to write down everything properly as I heard them say it.

When I was finished with making everything, I handed them all to them and him, and they got some of the drinks mixed up with whose was whose, so I had to point out which ones was which ones.

The whole time my short crush was staring at me half adoringly, half awkwardly because he could see the confusion on my face as I wondered why they couldn’t figure it out.

So then he left and I told them all have a good day. Ahh, he’s so cute. And that wasn’t the only crush I ran into that day because I also saw my American Dragon crush/short guy... at the same time.

Short Guy

[Let’s just get this straight and lemme remind you all that short crush and short guy are two different people in my world!!! So don’t confuse the two no matter how similar they look.

Because the difference is, I do not have a crush on short guy, hence why he doesn’t have a crush in his title! They both just so happen to be short though

So basically

short crush = reciprocated feelings since I am also attracted to him but

Short guy = unrequited feelings since I am not attracted to him back]

I was going on my second break of the day when I ran into short guy. He was also on his break which is why we were both in the cafetaria.

So since I ran into him, I decided to just sit down and eat with him since it was the middle of the day and there are so many ppl in the cafeteria with hardly any seats to sit at.

After I fixed my lunch I kinda waved to him to come sit over with me. So... for the first time with him I was actually comfortable talking and eating with him.

All the other times before, I would always be so nervous to talk or eat in front of him, because I know how he feels towards me. And I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

Being self conscious and having low self esteem doesn’t help when you’re eating in front of someone who you know is attracted to you. But today, for some reason I was just so calm.

Anyways, we talked about a few different topics and we kinda just stayed on them for a long time. And I was actually eating too, which was progress, so I felt good about myself.

And eventually my American Dragon crush came to sit down to eat with us since there was still not very many seats.

American Dragon Crush

All throughout today I kept seeing him since he was working morning shift like me. And every time I saw him, I would say something to him. Which to me, is nice because he’s not the type of crush I am usually comfortable talking with if I initiate it.

[My relationship with American Dragon crush is a bit complicated because he’s:

Younger than me by a year and a half

Shorter than me ALSO 👀

Filipino, his mom probably hates me because she sees me alll the time but is so short with me / language barrier is hard at my work when everyone speaks Tagalog and you can’t understand what they’re saying

I am lowkey crushing, but my mom would NOT approve of me even LIKING him so looool

My mom told me the other day she agrees that she thinks he has a crush on me!!!!! So that’s confirmed, he likes me back

He literally ran away (just kidding walked away) when my mom was coming towards me to talk one time like he was scared of her or something looool ]

Anyways, when he sat down with us... my very first instinct was to feel awkward. But the settings and everything made me feel calm, and I thought to myself “as long as nobody says anything weird, this will be fine.”

I really didn’t think either of these guys would try anything or say anything weird because they’re not really like that. There was SOME tension in the air, but it quickly got eradicated.

I tried to keep conversations going between them both to fill the silences that would happen every now and then, and was pretty successful tbh. That really made me feel at ease.

The last thing I wanted was for one to feel weird just because I was talking to the other. I was just glad they both could play along with the whole thing and not put me in an uncomfortable situation.

The lunch time flew by with the both of them there and continuing talking to me and each other. My American Dragon crush asked to borrow my charger so I said I would give it to him.

When I went to get my charger, he met me halfway to take it. I jokingly warned him “protect this with your LIFE. Don’t break it. Or you will never get to use my stuff EVER again.”

He told me, that’s fine and he’s not gonna use it for long. I also told him to make sure he brings it back before he leaves since he was gonna be done his shift a little earlier than me.

He came by his shift and had my charger in hand all neatly wrapped up ready to give to me. He’s like “here you go.” And I said “were you gonna leave with it?” He was smiling and said no.

Honestly thank God, because he would’ve completely and totally lost my trust since I’ve made that mistake before with other ppl.

Anyways, back to my shift at work that day...

I really didn’t have much trouble at all with taking orders other than for when new prices came up. Every now and then I would just check with a coworker to make sure I was charging the correct prices.

And since I was closing, that meant I was counting, meaning it was gonna be a pretty easy-going end to my shift. To me, counting my till is always so peaceful to me.

Closing went super smoothly, other than some ppl coming to ask for coffee last minute. But I had a quick and smooth close! And I got changed and ready in time for when I had to sign out.

I was wearing the most cool outfit after my shift at work. And I just felt my hair went SO well with it, like I was just so upset not more ppl got to see it.

But for the ones day did see it, I definitely blessed their lives for wearing such a cute fit. And I kid you not, I was so upset that this outfit was going to waste that I just up and went to the mall!

If I couldn’t get more ppl at my work, I said I might as well go and let ppl at the mall get to see my great taste in fashion. So I waited until my bus came and was on my merry way!

Alright alright, so my bus was packed and I kid you not... some man “snuck” a whole dog onto the bus! And I was not in the slightest upset about it!

As much as I joke around in real life about how I’m allergic to dogs, I really couldn’t tell you how I excited I was that a dog was somehow on this bus directly in front of me!

It was a super well trained dog too. It was the cutest lil ugly pug and whenever he would move the slightest everybody would look at this lil dogs every move.

I tried my absolute hardest not to sneeze around the dog to give away that I was allergic but I think my watery eyes gave it away once I was sitting there long enough.

As much I was suffering, I still wanted to be as close to the dog as I was. He just made my already good day even better and I knew I would have a nice story to tell when I got home.

Anyways so eventually the dog got off, then I was at the mall in no time. My plan for the day was to get my friends gift, her card and gift bag and then get out!

Since originally I never went on tuesday, today seemed perfect to do it because it wasn’t Friday (aka the busiest day of the week for the mall) and I was done work.

But boyyy, when I tell you it was BUSY! Way busier than I expected it to be. I didn’t remember that Friday, the next day was gonna be a P.A. day, so therefore no school.

That meant all the high school students took this as an opportunity to come to the mall on a Thursday instead. It made for my time at the mall like 3x longer than I thought it would take.

The lines were super long in Sephora when I went in. And literally any other time I looked over they remained that way so I just decided I would take my time choosing my friends gift.

I TOOK FOREVER THOUGH. Like the time I took in there was the equivalent of getting stuck down a YouTube rabbit hole and not realizing how much time has gone by!

But I found the CUTEST stuff for her AND myself. But obviously the main goal was her. I intended to buy a perfume and that’s exactly what I came out with.

Not the original size I had in mind, but regardless I believe my friend will appreciate the scent and effort it took to find a perfume for her. It really does smell amazing.

And it’s good quality that I hope will last! Since the bottle size is so small, there’s no telling if it will actually last all that long, but I think it’s a matter of finding the right scent first.

At least I know now if she truly really likes the scent, I could always buy her another one with the bigger sizes. Of course they’re way more expensive, but it’s quality perfume that lasts.

These are the items along with the card that I ended up getting her. I hope she likes/appreciates them. They’re definitely more on the practical side of giit’s, but nonetheless still good gifted

As for myself, I was spending a LONG time looking at the perfumes in Sephora. I was just super fixated on finding one for myself that I would also like so that when I finally do have the money I can eventually use it to buy the bigger bottles of the perfumes that I found and liked.

I found a lot of them that were decent smells, but i’m telling you, there was only one that fell in love with completely and obsessed with and can still smell the scent of today.

And I mean LITERALLY still smell the scent of because the scent is still remaining on the paper I sprayed it on which is crazy impressive! I’m sooo in love with the perfume, it’s so good!

You wouldn’t believe it, but that scent is actually THE first perfume bottle I picked up once I got to Sephora and I kept going back to it because I couldn’t believe how good it smelled.

I am definitely making that investment when I find the money because smelling like that???? I’d be irresistible everywhere I go! Here is a picture of the perfume:

As for all the other perfumes, they were subpar in comparison to this! What an experience it put me through. And now I will never forget that scent!

So once I had got done shopping for my friends gift in Sephora, I went to eat some Chipotle because ya girl was starved! I also got Starbucks to try the dragonfruit drink!

The one with coconut milk this time because I’d already tried the original mango dragonfruit drink with water and then another time with lemonade before.

All three of them are amazing flavours and it’s my go to from Starbucks at this point. Not that I go to Starbucks often anyways. I waited super long for the line at Starbucks.

But even worse was once I left the place, the line got waaay longer right after so I felt bad for how packed today was.

Anyways, I felt soo guilty after spending all the money I did in one day. I could’ve refrained from buying all the food that I did at the mall since I had food at home good and ready to eat.

But I couldn’t resist how hungry I was in the moment either. Plus, I had been having chipotle and Starbucks cravings the whole week prior so I’m glad it’s out of my system.

My period really did me dirty financially this time. When those cravings hit... they HIT! And I just can’t resist!

Anyways so by the time I left the mall, it was getting dark and I had to wait a while for my second bus so I decided to wait inside the Tim Hortons at the bus stop.

I always feel weird waiting inside a place and not buying anything because I know some places they tell you to purchase something, so I decided for buying an iced coffee to keep with me for tomorrow morning when I wake up.

I told myself it was to help me wake up in time tomorrow morning since I knew I would be tired, but then I also bought those new Oreo pockets...

That one I didn’t have any excuse for, I just was craving to try it. It was good, but sooo not worth it. As I was buying my iced coffee, I saw my bus pull up to the intersection.

It was a mission and a half though because as soon as I got my iced coffee I had to run so quickly to the bus so that it didn’t miss me! I got super lucky because she was at a red light.

Once I got to the bus, I saw my Model crush from my former University! I see him every now and then, but if there was any night I would want to see him, it would DEF be tonight.

I was super happy once I realized it was him because I wanted him to see my in this outfit! When I walked past him, I was acting super confident.

The whole time I was on the bus I was fighting the urge to look at him the entire time. I was so desperate to look but I told myself, only when it’s not obvious. I did pretty good on that.

Eventually he got off at the stop he usually gets off and on at. And then shortly, I was home. BOY was I glad to be home. But I was even happier that I had a wonderful day!

Friday

Today was... pretty good! My intentions were to pick up my transcripts from my high school, then drop off my sisters resumé with her at a mall. However things took a spin for the better today.

So lemme just start by saying I was STILL tired today when I woke up. To be clear, I somehow still ended up going to bed at like 4am last night because... bad habits.

But anyways, remember that iced coffee I bought? Yeah, well first thing after I woke up I went straight downstairs to drink it. I was THAT tired.

But i eventually came around and found a really cute outfit to wear out today. I was definitely dragging my feet however to get dressed. But my mother sister and I left by 10:30am.

I was super hyper due to the iced coffee/adrenaline rush I was experiencing from being so tired, so you could imagine how annoying I must’ve been.

Somewhere along the way, I asked my mom if she could drop my sister and I at the theatre to watch Avengers: Endgame but surprisingly she gave us money to go and I couldn’t believe I was finally gonna be able to watch it! Just like that.

So I found out once I got to my high school that the guidance counsellors need to sign my transcripts in order to send them out to give to me. I was simply... disappointed but not surprised.

It’s always something with me. So the secretary who was there was very helpful in arranging for me to pick it up next week whenever I was ready to get it, thankfully.

And then all of sudden as we were leaving, my mom randomly offered for me to take a test drive around the parking lot of my high school. It was totally spontaneous but serious.

So I took her up on her offer. After I was done, my mother said apparently I did an amazing job on my first time “driving” and that she couldn’t believe I had done my turns so easily.

I was sooo nervous and scared but also impressed with how I did as well. I honestly don’t have any reference of how good or bad I did though, so I’ll assume she was being honest.

Anyways then we headed to the mall and quickly dropped off my sisters resumé. And my mom dropped us off at theatre. I was so happy we could watch Avengers because I jokingly made a Instagram story about going to see it by myself just yesterday.

But now it’s actually a reality and I’m so glad. The whooole struggle to get food was a mission because we went back to THE SAME MALL by bus just to get food from the food court and bus back to the movies.

Then we snuck in our food since we had no time to eat it, otherwise we were gonna be late. And my sister literally snuck in a whole cup of pop from the mall into the theatre without anybody even realizing looool.

The whole time watching the movie I was sooo nervous because I didn’t really have any solid ideas of how the movie was gonna go down aside from the very few spoilers that I saw.

It was amazing! Sad, but not THAT sad for me because I didn’t have THAT much of an attachment to these characters since I didn’t even properly watch the first two avengers.

But I feel so relieved now that I don’t have to worry about spoilers! And also, I sat ALL the way through! Even though my bladder damn near bursted by the end of the movie!

I kid you not, I got up like 2 mins before it ended because my instincts told me it was gonna end soon and I was trying to time it. And I was right because it ended like right when I was about to leave!

I was so happy it was over and then I just made a RUN for the bathroom!!! But anyways today was amazing and I’m glad my week could end off way better than it started!

I still have one more day left to work, today. But I think I can handle the new week ahead now that I’ve gotten some things taken care of this week ☺️

Thanks for reading if you read allll the way through!

[30-day-consumption]

Monday 1.31.22

SLEEP

I fell asleep without my apple watch (my sleep tracker). To specify, I thought I was going to take a 10 minute nap. I did set around 20 alarms for 1-3AM and 6-9AM. However, although I fell asleep on the floor of my room, hoping I would wake up, I relocated myself in my sleep to the couch. I do remember waking up a few times to my alarms, but I was feeling tired, I think I fell asleep again. I believe it to be less than 8 hours of sleep though because I slept past 12AM and woke up a few times until I eventually woke up before 9AM.

I guess somehow I took a screenshot of my alarm app at 6 in the morning, when I semi-woke up to log for the journal. 😂

WEATHER

It was 14ºF when I woke up. It was colder than the past few days, but I’m glad that it’s not in the negatives. I wore two layers of pants, a cropped long sleeve, a thin jacket, and a thin puffer jacket. Surprisingly, (although it was still cold) it wasn’t too cold, and I could still walk around without feeling extremely cold. 

LOCATION

Like my regular Monday, Wednesday routine, I went to Anderson, Wilson, Blegan, Kolthoff, and HSEC Library. 

Anderson Hall (Linear Algebra Class): I couldn’t focus too well in class. I was just feeling exhausted and stressed by the amount of homework. Also, I realized, I always make a list of groceries to buy in this class. My notes from this class today below. I guess I really was out of it because I wrote the wrong date!

Wilson Library (Study in between classes): The seats in my usual spot was taken!! I sat down in a spot that was facing my usual sitting area to keep a look out on empty seats. However, I fell asleep soon after watching educational videos, once again. Luckily, I saw this coming and I set alarms on my computer where my airpods were connected to. 

Blegan Hall (Statistics Computing Class): I always lose confidence and focus in this class (maybe because I dropped this class last semester and I’m not sure if I can get through it). Like always, I could not focus too well in the class, although I tried my best to take notes and follow along. I think it’s also because I missed last Friday’s lecture and didn’t catch up on it over the weekend.

Kolthoff Hall (Writing Class): At this point in day, I was exhausted due to lack of sleep and busy schedule. On top of that, I was hungry! I was debating between getting a Starbucks sandwich and Hong Kong Noodles’ Beef Chow Fun. Then, the professor assigned us into groups and gave us a new project to work on. We had to create an instructional text/video on making anything which sounded fun. I was thinking about what we should make the text/ video about, and the class ended.

Hong Kong Noodles: I went to HKN with my two friends and ordered food to-go. However, it took such a long time for the food to come out that I opened my ipad and started planning out my week. After my order came out, we waited for my friend’s order for another 8minutes. The total for my dish (Beef ChowFun) was $18. 

Starbucks: I online ordered my drink at HKN, so I could pick up my order on the way to HSEC library. My order was out by the time I arrived at Starbucks, so I got in and out in about 20 seconds!

HSEC Library (Study): Well… I was going to study alone from 4:30-8, but my two friends and I ran into another friend that was at the social over the weekend. We talked and talked about things that happened over the weekend, and when I checked my phone, it was almost 6!!! I rushed up to the 5th floor (quiet loung) with one of my friends while the others stayed in a group-study room. I wrote some things down for journaling and made some sketches for my design class. When it was 7:45, I headed back down and headed over to my Korean club with my friends. We recently accepted 9 new members, and our club grew to 24 members. It felt more like a lab section than a club now, and I missed the old vibes. However, the room was way more lively than it was before, so I guess you win some, you lose some. After that, I stayed at HSEC Library a bit longer until I gopher chauffered home.

FOOD

Beef Chow Fun (Hong Kong Noodle): One of my top two favorite dishes from HKN, the other being Eel fried rice. I ate some for late lunch around 4pm and saved the rest for later.

Iced Brown Sugar Oatmilk Shaken Espresso (Starbucks): I wanted to try a new drink at Starbucks to add to my list of food & drink reviews. The coffee tasted like cinnamon and I hate cinnamon. I gave it a 4.9/10.

After my club meeting, I was so hungry that I microwaved the Beef Chow Fun and had more. I usually HATE leftover food, and always end up throwing them away, but I thought that 2022 me would save money and make smarter decisions!

OVERALL

I’m feeling quite exhausted. I just want one day where I can sleep and rest without stressing about school work. I also really want toplay tennis, so I hope to catch-up on the school work and make time for tennis!

[choicesaddictionwriting]

Man with a Plan/Zig x MC (Reagan)

SUMMARY: Zig takes drastic measures to help his girlfriend, Reagan, relax and it leads to unexpected results 

Man with a Plan Zig x MC (Reagan)

Reagan was like clockwork.

Anyone who knew her well knew as such. No matter how late she went to bed the previous night or how early or late she had a class the following day or even if she didn't have a class. She was always awake at 6:30.

Though it was technically 6:20. Her bodies alarm clock was 6:20. So every morning she woke up at 6:20 and spent ten minutes in bed, organizing her day, before her eyes on instinct would go to her alarm clock just as it was about to ring, so she could she could shut it off and get up. It was her routine, her pattern.

She'd been like this for as long as she could remember and she had never deviated.

Well, until she started dating Zig.

She was worried at first, that he would find it odd so she delayed him staying over and her staying over at his for longer than she wanted. He knew that she liked her schedules, routines, and patterns but he often worried and expressed it that he felt that she over-schedule herself and within that never ever scheduled any real relaxation time. She argued that she did pointing to all the times they hang out and all the times she spent with her friends. Which he countered with reminding her that whenever she did that she would compensate by staying up too late. He knew her too well.

He always took a gentle approach in his attempt to help her relax. He used her own habits against her, in the nicest way possible. He encouraged her to be a little freer, more flexible. Seeing past her miss perfect preface almost straight away. Showing her that sometimes it was okay to say no and that she didn't need to be there and please everyone.

Much like how she had helped him believe in himself and take chances and try new things. He was helping her. They weren't changing each other. They were encouraging each other to be better healthier people. They balanced each other out. They were what the other needed. That's why they worked. And neither of them could imagine life without the other.

Zig, did understand however that some of Reagan's nuances were too complex for him to deal with. So when she was ready for help he would support her. Though he did what he could to break some of Reagans ridged habits. His latest fixation improvement was the fact that she never slept in.

And this morning was no different.

It was 6:20, on a Sunday and Reagan, was awake.

Doing what she usually did thinking about what she needed to do today. She had finished all her homework, assignments and extra circulars as well as prepped for exams in a couple of months. But she had wanted to do some reading for her upcoming classes. She would have done it last night but she and Zig had gone out last night.

Last night, Reagan couldn’t help but smile. They had gone to a concert for one of Zig’s favorite bands last night and it was incredible. They were both so high on life and they got back to hers late and stayed up even later. It was the perfect night, just the two of them, acting like they had no cares in the world and the only thing that mattered was the two of them, together. And it was only a few hours ago. Exhaustion washed over her at that moment. She was so tired but she was still awake. She couldn’t help it. She looked around her room and then looked at Zig who was sleeping beside her.

He was sleeping on his front while she was on her back. His arm was wrapped around her waist regardless. She enjoyed the morning more when Zig was by her side. His breathing was calming. She liked to watch the rise and fall of his chest. It was nice to listen to, it reminded her that she wasn’t so alone anymore. His grip was tight so she couldn’t move much in fear of waking him. She reached up with one hand and thumbed the edge of one of the many bookshelves that surrounded her bed. Using it as leverage she propped herself up slightly, not enough to disturb Zig, so she could see over Zig and look at her alarm clock. As it should have been going off any second.

But the time changed and nothing happened. Zig must have switched it off. Her immediate thought was to ‘accidentally’ knock off a book and wake him up but she knew that he had done it with good intentions. So she had to figure out a way to get off his grasp gently enough not to disturb him. She settled back down softly. She was by the wall so she couldn’t escape easily. He probably did that on purpose last night as well as switch off her alarm clock and she had been too preoccupied to notice.

“What are you doing?” Zig’s groggy voice suddenly asked from Reagan’s side.

She jumped slightly before looking over at him. Half his face was still buried in the pillow. So only one of his eyes was looking at her.

“Sorry, I was trying not to wake you,” Reagan whispered sliding down back to his eye level.

“That’s not what I asked.” He commented, flipping over so he could lay on his back, like her which meant he finally let go of her waist.

“Go back to sleep, Zig. You had a late night,” Reagan instructed, kissing his shoulder as she sat up.

“But you did too,” He reminded, reaching out for her, “What are doing, Decks? It’s not even 7:00am. It is Sunday. You went to bed at 3:00. Stay in bed with me. Rest, please,”

“I’m not even tried,” She insisted.

“You’re lying,” He countered.

“Then why am I awake?” She offered.

“Because you feel like you need to but you don’t,” He argued, “You have nothing to do today but to relax with me and according to my schedule we are going to sleep for another few hours,”

“I do have stuff today. I need to prep for my classes plus the guys…” She began to list.

“That’s where you are wrong,” He smirked up at her.

“Oh? And you are sure of that?” She questioned.

He nodded.

“Are you going to explain yourself or are you just going to keep lying there?” She inquired.

“Sure,” He grinned beginning to explain, but he continued to lay, “First, I gave you enough time before the concert last night so you could finish all of your seemingly never-ending to-do list of yours so I know you have nothing to do that is due tomorrow on Monday. And I know that all your supposed pre-reading is actual pre pre reading because you are already ahead. So you can afford to skip it today. I made sure that no one is going to bother you or us  today because I told everyone that if they have a problem that they need Reagan for to call me instead.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” Reagan admitted.

“I did,” He nodded, “I turned off your alarm and switched sides while you were sleeping,”

“So I couldn’t escape?” She probed.

“I’ve learned from the many times of trying this and waking up alone that you always find a way. So I put an alarm on my phone under the pillow so I would wake up when you wake up and make sure you didn’t leave,” He continued.

“So I have nothing to do today, at all?” She asked.

“Nothing at all,” He confirmed, “So why don’t you lay back down,”

Reagan slowly slid her legs back under the covers and nuzzled into Zig’s side. His arm wrapped around her and he kissed the top of her as she rested it on his bare chest. She instinctively began tracing his stomach with her finger.

“So I really have nothing to do?” She asked again.

“Well, we can do whatever you want,” He corrected.

“What if I want to work?” She said.

“Besides that.” He chuckled.

“So we have no schedule at all?” She continued.

“Nope,” He confirmed.

“No objectives?” She asked.

“None at all,” He said.  

“But what are we supposed to do without a schedule?” She asked.

“Go with the flow?” He suggested.

“I schedule my flow,” She countered.

“Well, in all honestly I do have a sort of schedule. Only because I thought it would be too much to throw at you on your first ever full day of relaxing,” He sighed, giving in and telling her.

“Then what’s the plan?” She asked eagerly, relieved.

“Stay in bed until 10 or 11 and then do whatever you want.” He explained, simply.

“That’s it?” She demanded.

He nodded.

“But we don’t even know what we are really doing,” She argued.

“Why?” Reagan finally asked.

“Because you deserve to relax, Decks. I’m worried that you are going to ware yourself out. So I took drastic measures so much so that you can’t fight me on this,” He stated.

“I wasn’t going too,” Reagan chuckled.

“Good,” He nodded, “Now close your eyes because I know you are even more tried than I am,”

“There is just one problem,” She said after a couple of moments after Zig had closed his eyes.

“What?” He asked, his eyes flying open.

“I don’t know how to relax,” She confessed, slightly embarrassed.

“Well, you know one way,” He quipped with a wink.

“I meant ways other than that,” Reagan chuckled, swotting him.

“I figured you wouldn’t,” He chuckled, “So I based on what I know. I made a list of all the things you’ve told me you want to do but haven’t ever gotten round to doing because you work so hard all the time,”

He leaned over and opened a draw and handed you the hand written list. Reagan looked over the list, shocked at many things he had remembered, some were from months ago. Bake cookies, catch up on Modern Family, go see a foreign movie at that old cinema she loved to walk-by, go to the library and get a book for fun, have Zig teach you how to dance.

“I can’t believe you remembered all this,” Reagan commented.

“I remember everything you say,” He whispered sincerely, rubbing her arm.

“Why would you do all this, Zig?” Reagan asked seriously, sitting up abruptly and looking down at him.

“Because…” He began, sitting up to after her, he turned to face her, putting his hand on her cheek, “You work so hard and not just at school and stuff. You work hard for everyone in your life, you parents, the guys and me but never for you. You do so much for everyone else on top of all the academic pressure you put on yourself. So I decided even if you didn’t like at first to do this for you. Because you are incredible and deserve it,”

“No one has ever done something like this for me before…” Reagan said, still so overwhelmed by the intentions of his gesture.

“Well, now they have,” He smirked.

“Seriously Zig,” Reagan smiled, “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,”

“It’s the least I can do,” Zig grinned, “You deserve the world.”

Reagan said nothing. She just got on top oh his waist and looked down at him again. The palm of her hands gliding up and down his torso.Gazing into his eyes. He was surprised at her actions but she could see a small smile form on his lips. His hands went up the back of the shirt she was wearing, his shirt.

“You’re freezing,” He commented, his warm hands cooling against her skin.

“I love you,” She finally spluttered.

His eyes widened and he stared at her in disbelief.

“What…?” He questioned, taken aback.

Now it was her turn to smirk. She leaned down close her hands falling to his hips for leverage. Her lips inches away from his.

“I love you,” She repeated, with more confidence.

It was the first time Reagan had ever told Zig she loved him. It was clear that they did through their actions previously and they had said it in other way but neither of them had said the actual words. But Reagan couldn’t hold it in anymore. She needed him to know how she felt and after what he had done, how could she not be in love with him.

It took Zig a few seconds to recover from the surprise. His eyes lit up and he smirked yet again before wordlessly grabbing hold of her and flipping her over so he was on top of her. He kissed her hard his hands on her face before starting to trail down lower.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” Reagan asked breathlessly, a slight of self doubt in her voice.

“I was going to show you,” He responded, “You seem to like this grand gesture thing,”

“And you can show me,” She beamed, “But I’d still like to hear the words,”

“I…love…you,” He said kissing her in-between each word, his hands entangling with hers above her head.

“One more time,” She asked.

“I love you,” He repeated.

“I love you too,” Reagan giggled, as he lightly rested his forehead on hers.

“Love me enough to go back to sleep?” He asked.

“I thought you were going to show me how much you love me?” She reminded.

“I am…by cuddling you until you fall asleep,” He winked before yawning almost on cue.

“That wasn’t what I had in mind,” She admitted, slightly dejected.

“We have time what’s on your mind later, remember? They day is yours,” He said, falling heavily beside her and pulling her close once again.

“And I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else,” She grinned, turning and kissing his nose briefly.

“Good night Decks, I love you,” Zig chuckled as he closed his eyes in attempt to wind down but his soul was electric and his heart with racing knowing that today was the first of a lifetime that he would get to tell Reagan he loved her.

“I love you too,” She returned.

Reagan shut her eyes and fell asleep to the sound of heartbeat and the fact that today was in the first day in a lifetime of telling Zig how much she loved him.

[my-healing-journey]

With weary hands and exhausted eyes, I laid my sleeping infant in his bassinet at the foot of my bed, then climbed under my covers and drifted off to sleep. My baby hadn’t slept particularly well for the past few nights, and neither had my toddler. I was bone-tired from the frequent middle-of-the-night wakings from both of my children, followed by grueling 9-hour days at my office job and the unrestful evenings which awaited me after work each day. My husband worked a job which had been sending him to bed ridiculously early in order for him to wake up and start working at equally ridiculous pre-dawn hours, so there had been no help for me. I shouldered daycare, meals, work, baths, snuggles and nighttime care all by myself.

Not that my husband was ever particularly helpful in those categories to begin with. The less involved he was with the children, the less angry he seemed to be, so I tried to keep them away from him as much as possible.

I was worn out. I was so tired.

The last thought which came to my mind was along the lines of, the baby should wake up at about one o’clock, so that means I can get four hours of sleep if I fall asleep right now.

It didn’t take effort to fall asleep; at least not that night, anyway. No. I fell asleep quickly.

——

My baby was gentle when he woke. He usually was. He started off by making little grunting noises, then tested the room by letting out a few chatting sounds. I stirred from my sleep and dragged myself over to his bassinet and picked him up. He smiled at me, and I kissed his cheeks and laid him on the changing table. A couple minutes later, freshly diapered, I sat on the edge of my bed and nursed him. The room was dark. I did everything by feel and by the faint outlines I could see thanks to the light from the street lamp which filtered through the blinds in my bedroom.

My son ate quickly. He was efficient, and he fell asleep once he was done. I laid him back down in his bassinet after kissing his face again, then tucked myself back into bed. I was just so tired.

——

I next woke to a sniffling sound. My toddler. Without opening my eyes, I beckoned him to climb into bed with me. He did. I asked him what was wrong. He said he’d had a bad dream. I snuggled my child and hummed a lullaby. He fell asleep quickly. After he’d been asleep for a while, I picked him up and moved him back into his bed; I knew that if I let him sleep in my bed, he would kick me for the rest of the night and I wouldn’t be able to rest.

A quick glance at the digital clock on the stove showed that it was some time around 2 o’clock in the morning. My husband would be up in another hour. I trudged past his sleeping form on the couch. He’d relocated there right about the time I’d initially headed to bed in the first place; he hadn’t slept in the same bed as me for weeks at that point. I went into our room and closed the door behind me. Hopefully his alarm wouldn’t wake me up like it normally would; the baby would probably wake up again at about 4 o’clock, so I should have another couple of hours before I had to get up again next. I was still so tired.

——

Jake’s alarm somewhat woke me up. I managed to shrug it off and fall back asleep. What did wake me up, however, was when he crawled on top of me and whispered, “Wake up.”

I wanted to cry. Why was he waking me up? Didn’t he understand how exhausted I was?! My muscles ached with the need for sleep. My fingers didn’t want to move.

“Wake up,” he said again, louder this time. His tone of voice was playful. I knew he didn’t want sex - he almost never wanted sex - so what was he being playful about at three o’clock in the morning?!

“Why are you waking me up?” I asked. I didn’t care how my tone of voice sounded.

“Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he replied.

“Jake. I’m so exhausted that I might cry. I’ve been up twice since nine o’clock, and the baby is due to wake up again in an hour. Why are you waking me up?!”

He snorted as though he were amused. “I was hoping you’d make me a lunch.”

I looked at him with as much incredulity as I could muster. “Go make yourself a lunch.”

“But yours are so much better,” he said. “Plus... I’m running late. Still need to take a shower. Could you make me a lunch? Please?”

I rolled over onto my side. “Make your own damn sandwich and let me sleep.”

He pushed off of the bed and frowned at me. I couldn’t see it, since I had closed my eyes, but I could feel his frown as he spoke the next words. “Fine,” he said loudly. The baby began to squirm. My eyes flew open and I sat up to hush my husband. “I’ll do it myself. Sam’s wife makes his lunch every day. I just thought it’d be nice if you’d make my lunch for once. But fine. Go back to sleep.” He stomped out of the room. My baby grunted some more, then slipped back to sleep.

Jake continued stomping around upstairs as he headed toward the bathroom. The idiot. He was going to wake up the toddler, too!

I ran upstairs and barged into the bathroom shortly after he’d stepped into the shower and started singing at the top of his lungs. “I’ll make your stupid lunch,” I announced. “Now please shut up and let the kids sleep.”

He grunted in response and stopped singing. I closed the bathroom door and walked back downstairs and into the kitchen, feeling deeply annoyed. He’d been willing to wake up his entire family - at three o’clock in the morning, no less - because he was mad about me being unwilling to make his lunch.

I threw together a sandwich and a few other things, put all of the items into a lunch sack, then sat it on top of the dishwasher. Jake entered the kitchen right as I was exiting it and heading back to bed. My baby was due to wake up for another nursing session in twenty minutes or so. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until after I’d fed him again, and I was mourning the lost hour of sleep I could have had if my husband hadn’t been so outrageously selfish.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he said. I resisted the urge to punch him. He hugged me. I was so tired that I started crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked. His tone of voice sounded like he cared. Maybe he did, in some weird way. It certainly didn’t feel like it at the time.

“I’m so tired,” I said. “I just want one night with eight hours of consecutive sleep. I haven’t had that in two-and-a-half years. I’m so tired.”

“I know how you feel,” he said. “I’m tired, too.”

I couldn’t process that at the time. I didn’t have it in me. My brain died as I thought of how many times he had slept through the entire night while I had taken care of the kids by myself. How could he understand? He wasn’t even trying to understand.

“Why don’t you go ahead and go back to sleep?” he cooed, then gently pushed me in the direction of our bedroom. “I’ll see you tonight when you get home from work.”

I waved at him and went to sleep. I couldn’t decide whether to feel angry that he’d woken me up, sad that I had a partner who was willing to wake me up when he knew my sleep patterns were ridiculous enough, annoyed that he thought he could possibly be anywhere near as exhausted as I was, or just happy to be going back to bed. Unfortunately, the warring emotions plus the knowledge that my baby was going to wake up at any time and need to nurse again prevented me from being able to fall back to sleep.

My husband left for work. I heard his car drive away. My baby woke up at about four o’clock, as normal. I changed his diaper and fed him again. He went right back to sleep.

4:30. I can still get two more hours of sleep before I have to get up for work.

Too many thoughts and emotions swirled through my brain.

5:30. One hour left. If I can just get my brain to be quiet...!

6:00.

6:10.

6:15.

I gave up the idea of sleeping and left my room in favor of taking a shower to get ready for work while my children were still asleep. On my way to the staircase, I passed the kitchen.

Jake’s lunch, the one he’d woken me up at three o’clock in the morning to make, was still sitting on top of the dishwasher.

I cried on my way up to the bathroom.

[aceofaces20]

What would be a valid thing to submit as evidence for adhd? I feel like my teachers never noticed anything, all it ever says on my report is 'quiet', and im in the uk and you need school reports for diagnosis, and i feel like i wont be taken seriously cos they dont say 'bouncing off the walls' or something

I feel you, nonny. I wasn’t diagnosed until college because I was just “quiet.”

Odds are, if a lot of the symptoms add up enough to make you SUSPECT you have ADHD, you probably have it. But more research is always good!

So like many things, ADHD is a spectrum. The two ends of it are Inattentive to Hyperactive- and then you have people like me, in the middle, with the Combined version. Some people have more Inattentive than Hyperactive, some have more Hyperactive than Inattentive. Everyone who has ADHD experiences the symptoms a little differently.

You can find about six thousand symptoms lists online, but here I’ll tell you things that usually don’t end up on those lists that my therapist told me a lot of her patients ended up experiencing aside from listed symptoms.

(Note: Initially I tried to keep these short. Yeah, that didn’t work. I bolded the important parts.)

1. Insomnia, or at least a super screwy sleep schedule. No joke, this can be super detrimental and will only serve to exacerbate your symptoms. “Just set a sleep schedule!! You’ll feel better!” they all say- Thanks Barbara if I had any control over when my brain chooses to sleep at all I wouldn’t have this issue, ok?

-a solution to this is to, in all actuality, condition yourself. Start ONLY using your bed for sleep. Get a little chair or something in your room if you’re also a hermit like I was growing up (mushroom chairs are gr9) and once you get out of bed, don’t let yourself get back on it for more than a few minutes unless you’re going to sleep.

Some nights it’s not enough, but in general for me personally this has been an actual lifesaver- I can go from being not tired to exhausted at the drop of a hat in normal life anyway (another symptom they don’t usually tell you about) so it’s nice to be able to make it work for me for once- I get into bed, maybe spend 30 minutes restless and then I’m out.

2. On the subject of sleep. You kids ever heard of the sleep of the dead? Because guess what, I have ignored literal fire alarms in dorms because of it. About 1-2 hours into my sleep I enter a state akin to a bear hibernating. I have slept through wake-up alarms, slept through emergency alerts, slept through FIRE alarms, slept though friends and family attempting to wake me… you get the picture.

3. On the note of the hibernating bear. You constantly wake up angry (or at least disgruntled) at the universe and take a really, really long time to power on. No, I’m not talking “a case of the mornings.” I’m talking it takes me until noon some days to actually feel somewhat alert. I’m talking feeling nothing but seething rage at anyone who tries to engage you in higher brain function before you’re fully awake.-the seething rage is more personal to me, but, every single last one of my friends who’s ADHD has issues getting up in the morning. There’s hating mornings, and then there’s hating mornings.

4. About mornings. You’re constantly late to anything in the morning because you just couldn’t “get going.” i.e., you knew and 100% wanted to get up and get moving but your brain said “nah, let’s just sit here on tumblr mobile for a while k?”-it’s very difficult to describe this part of executive dysfunction with words, because it comes off as laziness to a lot of neurotypicals. It’s not laziness. It’s having the motivation and and will and the drive to do something and not forgetting about it and it still doesn’t get done.

“Why didn’t you do x?” they’ll ask. And you just sit there thinking shit, you meant to, really, honest to god meant to, it was on your brain to do and yet all you could actually do that day was sit around and watch terrible TV. And then you feel terrible because YOU think you’re lazy.It’s not laziness. It’s executive dysfunction.

5. Another not so well known EXDYF fact: Mental math or memorization for you will always be the literal bane of your existence. Teachers always told me I was a “smart kid” in school (I am, but not the point) and then they’d wonder why I couldn’t memorize a five line poem.

Or I’d start off with a 60 on a math test, until my teacher would comb through my work by hand (only useful math teacher I ever had in high school tbh) and I’d end up with a 92 because nearly all of my mistakes involved basic arithmetic errors. Even though I was able to use a calculator on the test.

(One time I decided 21-19=14. To this day 8 years later I still do not know from what abyss my brain pulled that info from.)

“You’re smart! Just focus!” I can’t choose what my brain decides to focus on that easily, Sharon, not without a lot of crying and panicking.

6. But wait! You say. I have really obscure information from a fandom that I can infodump on someone at a moment’s notice! Surely that means I’m just Lazy and Unmotivated, right? I guess I just can’t be bothered to memorize the important stuff.

*Loud buzzer noise* Stop right there. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

I will take you by the shoulders and look deep into your eyes and make you realize that guess what? If you have an ADHD brain, you have NO control over telling your brain what is important and what is not. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Your brain decides, and you usually get no say in the matter.

This sounds bad, I know. And in terms of school, birthdays, appointments, it’s terrible. But you’re not helpless. It sounds trite, but, get a good goddamn calendar app on your phone and use the hell out of it for appointments and birthdays. And for school? Find those fandoms and use mnemonics. No, seriously.

7. Also on school: You procrastinate the hell out of everything. And I’m not talking normal “haha I’ll do it later!” procrastination. I’m talking serious, problematic, REPEATED “why the fuck can’t I just do it on time like a normal person” procrastination where you start blaming yourself for not doing it sooner like a neurotypical.

Listen, buddy ol’ pal (or however that goes), you’re not neurotypical. But listen- there’s actually a medical reason why you do this.

So everyone’s brains have reward systems, right? Your brain gives you the feel good when you do something you think you should. And later, a brain remembers that it got the feel good for doing the thingy thing.

In a brain with ADHD, that reward system malfunctions. Sometimes critically. Your brain chucks so much stuff it deems “unnecessary” out the window it chucked out that feel good you got when you turned in that homework on time, or cleaned out your car, or did some pilates for 30 minutes.

8. You want to know what doesn’t help with number 7 there? Another thing that won’t show up on symptom lists but that virtually everyone I know with ADHD (quite a few, actually. Turns out we hang out in packs because we’re usually the only people who can understand each other) about ADHD is how daunting large tasks or projects seem to an ADHDer.

So listen, more medical talk here. Remember that EXDYF thing? Yeah, this is part of that.

EXDYF makes it very, very hard (almost impossible, sometimes) to break down large tasks into smaller, more feasible tasks. You get nervous the longer you put off that paper (“this isn’t something you can spit out overnight!”) You’ve been sitting in front of your computer for hours, and the only word you have written down is “The”.

Honestly, I’m not sure why it’s actually super hard to break down large undertakings into smaller tasks for the ADHD brain. But! Solution.

-if you’re having a problem breaking down ANY sort of task, I promise there’s someone else who’s done it online.

Need to write a paper? Use a template. Need to clean out your car? Find a checklist, or have a friend make you one (cause Lord knows I can’t make one on my own). Need to make a presentation? Find a sample one online. Hell, this even works for taxes. (Gasp!)

Do NOT be afraid to ask for help with even personal large undertakings. If your friends are actually your friends, then they’ll relish the chance. Especially when you can turn around and blaze through a quarter of the important project you two (or however many) have due next week in four hours because of hyperfocus.

9. So, your focus. Totally trash, right? That is, until you hyperfocus.

Hyperfocus, to a neurotypical, probably sounds great. Tune out all distractions and get shit done, right?

Sure, Linda, if you can call being able to ignore things like the need to sleep, eat, and use the bathroom “tuning out distractions.” Time becomes a literal illusion. And damn do you pay for it later by your brain not wanting to do anything at all.

On the flip side, this is why ADHD people make fantastic emergency workers like EMTs and firepeople. If you learn what to do with adrenaline when you start feeling it, you feel like you could punch Satan himself when you’re riding an adrenaline+hyperfocus high. Combine that with the fast-paced, unexpected nature of such jobs and and you have a happy ADHD brain because it’s never bored.

10. Because boredom feels like death. No, Cheryl, I’m not being overdramatic. Yes, Becky, I recognize everyone has to deal with boredom.

A neurotypical’s boredom and an ADHDer’s boredom are two very different levels of boredom. Ever heard the phrase “bored to tears”? Now imagine every time you get even a little bored, it’s like this.

And of course, the ADHD hell brain remembers the bad feels of being bored but can’t recall how nice it was to remember all of the answers on a quiz that one time you paid attention in class.This is why I have the worst problems doing homework and housework, or in general anything with serious repetition (exercise, cooking, driving, tidying up etc.). I can do it for maybe 10-15 minutes, and then my brain’s like “k I’m good. Next source of input please?” like, brain, I’m only like 3 feet into washing the kitchen floor. P l s.

11. Speaking of tears. Has rejection by someone you value ever felt like you wanted to quit existing on the spot, or at the very least wanted to move to an ice cave in Greenland and cry for the rest of your life? Even if the rejection was just perceived rejection and your friend was just expressing grumpiness at something else?

Even if your logic says “they didn’t reject you calm down you’re overreacting?”

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. It’s a newer term, but honestly, once I found out about my own ADHD and this bitch of a symptom a loooooooot of my weird habits started making a lot of sense in my head.

It doesn’t have to be actual “rejection”. It can get set off from stuff like awkwardness (hence my personal resistance to making Adult Phone Calls) to disbelief (a huge, huge reason so many people go undiagnosed), to personal judgment and/or criticisms (oh, ok… I guess I’ll never mention my love for X ever again) to even just indifference (no one noticed I mopped all the floors in the house… guess I’ll just go die!).

Basically, if you perceive that someone you care about has dismissed you in some fashion, you literally just want to quit existing. On the spot. Because the feeling of it makes you feel sick, your chest gets tight, you can feel it in your hands, and it makes the rest of your day miserable.This variant is more likely with people you care about, but can definitely 100% happen with strangers too.

Another variant is this: if you perceive that someone (whether you care about them or not) has dismissed you in some fashion, your first instinct is to attempt to disregard and discard them completely. It usually doesn’t work like you want it to.

I’m pretty sure this is another reason why ADHD people hang out in packs. We always have a line in our head we’re terrified to cross with our friends. It makes us seem like we’re emotionally unavailable- but in reality we’re just terrified of being dismissed by our friends for showing our true geeky, infodumping, hyperfixating selves.

(Listen. If a friend mocks you for your true self they weren’t your friend in the first place.)

12. But in terms of crossing that line… Social cues? What are social cues?

Normal people can infer a lot from body language. With a lot of ADHD people, we tend not to notice. Or we notice too much and overanalyze. There’s no in between.

On a side note, your best bet for flirting successfully with an ADHDer is to just come out and say it. (Talk like an elcor. “Flirtatiously: I want to hear more.” or whatever innocent phrase it is you’re using to flirt. If they’re into Mass Effect, this will make them laugh, which means bonus points for you in their eyes.)But seriously, unless you’re making obviously romantic overtures we’re usually pretty sure you’re just being nice.

Back on topic: lack of social ability is a massive, massive reason people with ADHD are usually bullied growing up. If there aren’t any other ADHD people around, it usually feels like no one “gets” you. I was bullied horribly enough during junior high and high school to the point where I still have to repress the urge to automatically assume someone being nice to me means they’re plotting something behind my back. (Didn’t help that my hs was basically the Korriban Sith academy without most of the death. Culty, religious, nepotism ran rampant.)

13. Woe betide thee who angers the ADHD. It's not a problem with everyone, but... We’re like volcanoes. Awe-inspiring to watch in action, but God help you if we explode in your direction. And if it’s righteous anger there is almost literally no stopping us.

Anger has its uses. Our problem is that, like a volcano, we always have a lot simmering under the surface. We tend to hold onto it for ridiculous amounts of time until one day, boom. Yeah, I know, Kathy, that happens with everyone. Delayed gratification and all. The difference with ADHDers is that we usually don’t wait.

ADHDers’ anger will come out initially, because we can’t suppress it. We’re impulsive as fuck. We don’t think before we leap (our brains probably wouldn’t let us anyway). And it will seem like we are flying off the handle for no reason whatsoever. But we also have a tendency to unhealthily hold onto it afterwards even once the initial burst has happened. It’s like a (bad!) positive feedback loop.

14. Gotta bounce the leg. Gotta rock. Gotta fidget. Shit, I’m sorry, were you talking?

So one time I made it through 40 minutes of a math class actively suppressing the urge to bounce my leg… and then my leg twitched of its own accord. Freaky as shit, 0/10 recommend.

Sitting still is physically impossible for me, and for a lot of ADHDers. Lack of impulse control + lack of social cue knowledge + lack of ability to decide what’s important to our brains = Fidget fidget. Fidget fidget. Twitch. Fiddle with paper. Hey, my backpack has a fun texture by the zipper. Oh my God, that lady on the TV is wearing the best shade of blue ever! I wonder where she got it. Shit, I need to go shopping. Wait, why did I need to go shopping again?

“Hey I asked you what you got for number 7.”

Fuck.

15. Depressive episodes. For me, these usually happen after a major hyperfocus where I taxed my brain for all it was worth, especially for long periods of time.

If it lasts for a long time or starts seriously affecting your life, get it checked out. If your doctor gives a damn they’ll be happy you came in to get it checked, even if it was the wrong diagnosis, because if it had been then at least they were there to help you. And they’ll always be happy to sit down and figure out what’s wrong. I know they have to watch out for hypochondriacs and whatnot. But if a doctor really cares about helping people they’ll listen when you say something’s wrong, because they know that you’re the one in your skin, not them. Which means if you really think something might be wrong, something probably is.

More evidence: justexecutivedysfunctionthings here on tumblr. Contains people’s experiences with EXDYF, which is a huge red flag for ADHD.

The Wikipedia article on the subject. There’s a nicely organized chart. (Or at least there was when I looked at it.) Remember, you don’t have to identify with all of the symptoms to be ADHD. Even if you only identify with a few, if they’re significant enough that they are seriously impacting your life and existence, it’s worth getting checked out.

I may add more to this later/change some stuff as my memory allows.

[matthewwilliamcharles]

Tour Journal July 12-16

I haven’t posted a tour journal, or anything for that matter in little while.  I neglected to document a couple tours from earlier in the year but figured it was time to start posting stuff again.  Anyways here is my tour journal from July 2019, a small five day tour to Illinois and back.

Thursday July 11th - I played a show with my punk band, Assemble Thursday night at The Fire in Philly.  Originally I was looking for a show for my tour on that day, but Assemble got an offer to play so I decided I would rather take the Assemble show offer and just make a really long drive Friday morning.

Friday July 12th - I didn’t get to sleep until around 1 am. or so and I had to wake up around 5 am to make it to Detroit on time, just to be safe.  To be precise the show was in Hazel Park, MI, which depending on who you talk to is basically Detroit.  The drive was long, I made sure not to take toll roads to save money, I could sacrifice the hour or two in time saved.  I didn’t eat much and drank coffee throughout, and managed to write a new song on the way, memorizing it thoroughly and transcribing it when I took a break.  I had a funny feeling about the show because the event page was desolate, and the only band that I invited to play the show, “My Drowning Youth” was the only band on the five band bill who posted about the show.  I arrived at Phoenix 510 with a couple hours to spare.  I soon found out that every band on the show besides MDY had pulled a no call no show.  I’ve never have had this happen in my life, I’ve played a show where a band had cancelled, or pulled a no call no show, but not four out of five bands!  I have a feeling that maybe none of these bands existed or had ever agreed to play the show.  Long story short the place was pretty empty.  MDY and I played our sets, then we impromptu jammed on “Sink Florida Sink” at the end of my set to some staff members who were polite enough to stick around. Needless to say there was no gas money or door cut, but I was allowed to crash at the venue.  Some band had rehearsal scheduled at the space after the show, luckily I was so exhausted it took me no effort to fall asleep on one of the many empty couches. All in all a typical day of tour. 

Saturday July 13th - I woke up the following day at Phoenix 510 and figured I could hit the road immediately. The other folks who stayed at the space made coffee and I ended up hanging around longer than intended getting involved in conversations about the potential end of humanity.  I ended up giving a guy named Jupiter a ride across town in return for some breakfast at Tim Horton’s before I headed off to Grand Haven, MI.  I stopped to buy a $12 harmoinca in Muskegon because my G harmonica fell out of tune the previous night.  I managed to get about an hour of time at the beach (the weather was hot and muggy) before the show started.  My friends Jessica and Brian from the band Cloudlight were hosting the show at their house, aptly named “In The Clouds”.  As far as house shows go this one was pretty top notch!  They have a green room upstairs for the bands to chill, and plenty of snacks and beer.  All the bands on the show were super good, nobody sounded the same and most everybody stuck around for the full show. After the show the late night stranglers hung out upstairs and jammed on Cloudlight and MxPx songs.

Sunday July 14th - After a much needed full nights rest I woke up and had delicious breakfast with my hosts.  I left around 11 am. and started my drive to Bloomington.  I was able to find another beach, though finding one that was not crowded was impossible, but I was able to jump in the lake Michigan water one more time before I left the state. The drive to Bloomington, Illinois was uneventful, as is the case for most Midwest drives.  I managed to arrive about 45 minutes before the show started.  My buddy Jerm Plue was Dirty Rotten Revenge set the show up for me at Nightshop.  The show went well, all punk rock acoustic folks on the bill.  The weather cooled down a little bit and we had the show on the outdoor stage.  Jerm finished off the show with his set around 10-1030.  We called in quits after that as it was a work day the following morning for most people.

Monday July 15th - I woke up at Jerm’s house, everybody had already left for work and I just needed to lock up before I left.  I started to head back to Detroit as I was scheduled to be a guest on the Motown Mojo Live Podcast.  I left a little later than I planned, and looking at the time I would be in town only a half hour before I needed to be there.  I really didn’t have the luxury of any extra time.  I had cruised through Illinois and was passing into Indiana when I got the message that the show had been cancelled.  I pulled over to read the message and respond.  Apparently the studio had flooded and a bunch of equipment had been damaged, so they were out of business.  I told them not to worry about cancelling, and wished them the best of luck in their recovery.  I regrouped and came up with a plan B.  I needed to be heading back towards PA, two major cities that were on the way were Cleveland and Columbus.  If I headed towards Cleveland I’d get in around 8 pm., while Columbus was a little closer, getting me there around 7 pm.  I started to head towards Columbus.  There was no time to look for a show and try to find out if I could join a lineup, but there was a good chance that there would be an open mic on a Monday in a decent sized city.  I looked up open mics and saw that Buns and Brews in Columbus, Ohio had an open mic that started at 8 pm. That’s where I headed, in haste.  I only stopped once to gas up, otherwise it was a straight drive.  I pulled up at Buns and Brews, walked in, saw guitar players in the back strumming and changing strings while somebody was singing a blues tune on the mic.  I asked about the signup and was lead to the signup sheet, where there was one open spot left.  I wrote my name down and Jenn the host said, “Welcome to the final spot of open mic!”  Everybody had 4 songs or 20 minutes, so pretty decent for an open mic. When I stepped on stage I got the worst introduction of my life, Jenn said my name sounded like the name of a serial killer (three first names) and asked if I had a killed anybody recently and told people to be weary of me.  I handled it well and made some jokes about killing staff members.  People stuck around, I let people jam with me, which is usually a bad idea but Derek Bowen, a musician comedian held it down pretty well on the cajon.  All in all it was a good move, I was able to make some new connections and some new followers. 

Tuesday July 16th - After the show the previous night I just left and started driving back to PA.  The next show, which was happening in Pottsville started at 3 pm.  This required me to get a head start.  I drove until around 2:30 am., not before getting a speeding ticket (82 in a 70, garbage!).  I slept at a rest-stop.  Woke up around 5-6 am and drove the rest of the way, fighting off sleep most of the drive.  I got in town early, walked around town and killed some time at the meteor / alien space artifact store and the pizza shop.  My friend Tim, who plays under the moniker “Churches & Trains” set the show up at Pressed Coffee and Books. The show was great for one that started at 3 pm. on a Tuesday in a coffee shop!  I left Pottsville, PA with plenty of coffee, gas money, half a cookie and a necklace with a Herkimer Diamond and a meteor chunk on it.