#gonna put some away to make sure i can afford rent without using my card again; THEN gonna book with that ehler danlos clinic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

otomefoxystar · 3 years

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Denial

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: Saeyoung X MC

Warnings: talk about money and mental health

Genre: Comfort

For @space-kitten-606 Sorry it took so long to write this !😔 Life has been super busy, but I’m back at it now ❤️

She was trying to make it she really was, but her employer increased the cost of her insurance, and to cover her antidepressants and anxiety medications she had to pay out of pocket. Not to mention the doctor and physiatrist appointments. That with rent and regular household bills, it was impossible to keep up. She was broke.

After getting dressed she twisted her hair up into a tight knot on her head as she went to the pantry knowing the only thing she had other than boxed and canned food was ramen.

“ Breakfast of champions.”

As she sat down to eat there was a knock at the door. Saeyoung was standing on the other side of the door with a big smile on his face.

“ Hiii” She was surprised to see him, he hadn’t even called. It was completely out of the blue.

“ Hi! I wasn’t expecting you to come over.” He kissed her cheek.

“ You are always at work! I haven’t seen you in like foreeeevvvveeerrrr. I was starting to think you don’t love me anymore.” She rolled her eyes.

“ You are so dramatic.” He gave her a toothy grin.

“ I miss you _ _ _ I've been lonely without you.”

“ I miss you too, I’ve been busy is all.”

She was standing in the doorframe and he chuckled.

“ Are you gonna let me come in or are we going talk out here the whole time?”

“Oh! Yeah, come in.”

After he shut the door, he saw the steaming bowl of ramen on the table, and his eyebrows drew together.

“ _ _ _?” It wasn’t his usual cheerful tone, it was one of concern.

“ Yeah?” He crossed his arms and looked at her with a serious look on his face.

“ Are you eating ramen… For. Breakfast?!” Her cheeks turned a crimson color. She had been caught.

“ And you dare to lecture me about eating honey buddha chips and Dr. Pepper. Do you have any idea how much sodium is in ramen?” She looked down at the floor.

“ I know”

“ I’ll make you something.” He stated, and her eyes shot up.

“ Uhh, I don’t have much food.” He waved his hands, telling her not to worry.

“ I'm sure there’s something I can make you.” He said as he made his way to the fridge.

He opened the fridge to see it practically barren with only a half-gallon of milk and a container of leftover food, that appeared to be spaghettos. He raised his eyebrows then went to the pantry and there were a couple of boxed and canned meals, a loaf of bread that was almost gone, peanut butter and honey. What happened to his girlfriend who was always so diligent about eating healthy?

“ Why don’t you have any food?”

“ I’ve just been so busy, I haven’t had time to go to the store.” He gave her a hard look. Saeyoung didn’t often look at her like this and she knew she was in trouble. He walked over to her.

“ You’re here now, you could’ve gone shopping right?” She was trying to come up with any excuse she could think of. She didn’t want him to know how broke she was, he had money. Even with quitting the agency he probably never had to work again.

“ I uhh was gonna go, I just wanted to eat first.”

“ Okay, let’s go out to eat then I’ll take you to the store.”

She shook her head

“ No, it’s okay. I’ll go later.”

“ You are not eating ramen for breakfast.” He noticed she was having a breakout on her forehead, and her face looked a little sunken in with dark circles under her eyes. She looked awful.

“ No, c’mon let’s go.” She shook her head and stood her ground when he started dragging her to the door.

“ I can’t!” He turned and looked at her when her face twisted into an expression like she was getting ready to cry.

“ What’s going on _ _ _? What are you not telling me?”

She sat down on the kitchen chair and covered her face with her hands. Saeyoung sat down next to her, facing her completely flabbergasted. He brought her hands away from her face.

“ You can tell me. We need to be open and honest with each other.”

She looked up with tears brimming in her eyes.

“ It’s just-“ She sighed “ I can’t afford to go shopping. I’m broke…. Really, really broke.”

“ I can help y’know, you just have to ask.”

“ No, it’s not your problem.” That stung, he wanted to share everything with her even the bad things. He tightened his grip on her hands. At that moment she knew he wasn’t going to give up, she had to just tell him the truth.

“ It’s not like I went on a shopping spree and spent too much money. I don’t get to do that, I don’t even remember the last time I bought something for myself. It’s my job the cost of the medical insurance went up. I just can’t afford it. I’d have no money left over and to pay for the medication I need I have to pay for it myself. I have to pay for doctor’s visits I have to pay for everything and I just can’t keep up. I’m always late on my bills, I have to use credit cards and bounce checks. It’s been … Hard.” Tears finally spilled out of her eyes.

His heart dropped at hearing this. She was suffering this whole time and he never even knew.

“ How long did you think you could keep this from me?” He didn't say it angrily, it was more of a disappointed statement. He tilted his head and sighed.

“ Is this why you’ve been working so much overtime?”

“ I have to take my meds, I can’t go without them.” He brought her hand up and kissed the top of her hand.

“ This is probably not helping your depression and anxiety though kitten. You don’t look good. You are going to make yourself sick if you work yourself to death and eat like shit.”

“ The pot called the kettle black.” She said wiping her tears away. Saeyoung let out a little chuckle.

“ Seems like it. Seriously though you don’t have to keep things from me. Even if it is YOUR problem. I want it to be my problem too.” He paused, seemingly contemplating something when his eyes widened as if a light bulb had gone off.

“Move in with me, you wouldn’t have to pay rent, my house is paid off, there’s food. You wouldn’t have to worry anymore.” He gave her a toothy grin.

“ I don’t know Saeyoung. What about Saeran?”

“ He’ll be fiiiinnnee” He waved her off “Besides, I think he likes having you around.” She bit her lip.

“ I don't want to put you guys out. I should just get a second job. I can’t depend on you like that.”

“ No no no, you aren’t getting a second job, that’s crazy! You are already overworked enough. You are just so stubborn, it’s drives me crazy sometimes! I am offering you help and a way for you to make it because right now sweet pea you are just barely getting by. It’s not healthy to be more worried about paying bills than eating. Plus, I’ll have a human teddy bear to cuddle every night.” He leaned forward and gave her a big hug.

“ I’m not your teddy bear!” She shoved him, and he put his bottom lip out, pouting.

“ Aww c’mon. Please kitten” He tucked her hair behind her ear “ I love you and I am worried about you. Let me help you. If you keep going like this your mental health will just get worse.” She knew that of course, she knew that.

“ What’s stopping you? Why won’t you live with me?” She didn’t know, maybe she was afraid?

He smiled at her and cupped her cheek. Giving her that tender look that she so adores.

“ It kills me that the only way I can make is to get help from other people. I wanted to make it on my own, to prove to myself that I am worth something.”

“ You are worth something! It’s okay to need help. Most people do at some point in their lives. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here and we can figure it out together because that’s what partners do. I’m not telling you to quit your job. I’m not saying that I’ll pay your bills. I just want you to move in with me.

“ You just feel bad for me.” He flicked her forehead and she glared at him as she rubbed her head.

“ That’s not it! I mean yes I do feel bad, but I want you to move in because I love you and want you around. It would’ve happened eventually, why not now?”

She looked at him hard and long as if the answer was on his face. Finally, the tension from her shoulders left and she squeezed his hand. She pressed her lips together as she looked at his pleading expression.

“ I’m not letting you say no.” She inhaled deeply through her nose.

“ Okay” He tilted his head to the side.

“ Okay? Okay, what? That I won’t let you say no? Or that you’ll move in with me?”

She sighed.

“ I’m sorry! You aren’t explaining!”

“ I know I’m just nervous.” She steeled herself and sat up straight, looking right into his eyes.

“ I’ll do it, I’ll move in with you Saeyoung.” A big grin spread across his face.

“ Yeah?” She nodded her head.

“ Yeah, just as long as you promise it’s not out of pity.” He shook his head vigorously.

“ Nope! it’ll just work better for both of us. I’ll get to see you more, and you’ll be able to pay your bills. It’s a win-win.” He was beaming.

“ I think I’m getting more out of this than you are, but if you’re happy then I’m happy too.” She said with a smile.

“ Finally a smile. I don’t like it when you're sad.” He stood up and held out his hand for her to take. She looked up at him, but then took his warm hand and he pulled her up. He kissed her lips softly then hugged her tight trying to convey his feelings.

“ Now that it’s decided, I am taking you out for breakfast. You aren’t eating that crap.” She smiled and slipped her shoes on letting him pull her out the door. He stopped just as they were about to get into his car. He looked into her bright eyes and stroked her cheek.

“ I really do love you _ _ _. I hope you never forget that. I will do everything in my power and beyond to take care of you like you deserve.” She placed her hand over his.

“ How about we take care of each other?” He gave her a tender smile.

“ I like the sound of that. No one’s taken care of me before.” She hugged him tight and gave him a light peck on the side of his neck.

“ There’s a first for everything!” She smiled and ran her fingers through his soft hair.

“Thank you Saeyoung. For being in my life, for loving me, for letting me love you.”

He pulled her close to press a fierce kiss to her lips, holding the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. When finally they parted he opened the door of the car for her ready to take on this new adventure in their lives.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme fandom #mysme fanfic #saeyoung choi #707 #mysme saeyoung

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thran-duils · 3 years

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Dubious Representation (P.3)

Title: Dubious Representation (Part Three) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Hank Palmer. Reader’s husband is facing jail time and although Hank Palmer entered the counsel for pro bono, he is still going to get a form of payment. Recently single, he’s been lonely and he’s looking for some comfort. Even if it means obtaining it from less than savory means. Words: 2,562 Warnings (for entire fic): Eventual smut, sexual coercion, infidelity, mention of past domestic violence, verbal abuse Author’s Note: Decided on four parts... LOL

Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Rich turned on Hank the moment the guilty verdict came through. He had been torn apart in court, Warner using the domestic violence charges to completely wipe Hank’s defense that Rich had been protecting Y/N off the board completely. What jury would think a man who had no issue hitting his wife around would have virtuous means to protect her? No, he was painted as a man protecting what he saw as property. Hank had objected to that comment which the judge sustained but it had already been said and swayed the jury all the way.

“You were supposed to get me out of this!” Rich snapped at him.

“No one was going to get you out of this, don’t kid yourself. And hey, I lost a case for free, so you don’t even have to worry about paying me for wasting my goddamn time,” Hank spat back in hushed tones, picking up his stuff.

Rich looked like he wanted to punch Hank, but the sheriff was already there putting his cuffs on. He instead whipped around to Y/N who was standing there. Her knuckles were white with how hard she was gripping the wooden wall between them, tears in the corners of her eyes.

“You---you can’t leave,” she got out. “Ten years, Rich!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t of gotten yourself into trouble by acting like a slut at that party, this wouldn’t be happening!” Rich snapped at her, his anger boiling over at everyone.

Hank was watching this exchange with a sour look, his jaw clenched. Y/N looked like she had been struck and he could only imagine what kind of verbal abuse she faced on top of the physical with him.

She gaped like a fish at him as he turned away from her with a glare, letting the sheriff lead him away. Hank finished putting away his things in his briefcase and stood up, coming in between her and where her eyes had been following him.

“Let me take you home,” Hank said gently.

Y/N focused on him, and it took a couple moments for her to register what he said. “I-I drove.”

Hank picked up his briefcase and walked out of the defense area, coming past the wall to where she was standing. He gestured for her to follow him. She shot a look at the judge who was already moved on. Swallowing sharply, she picked up her purse, she wiped at her eyes, and let his hand come to the small of her back as he guided her up the aisle towards the exit. Hank wanted to strangle Rich for making her so upset; his stomach was tight from the anger swirling at the whole situation.

He walked her to her car. The anger got the better of him and he poured out, “You know if he would’ve told me from the start that he had smacked you around, I wouldn’t have taken the damn case! Do you realize that’s what made us lose this case? Had nothing to do with me! Not even I can make a wife beating dickhead look good! Especially one with a wife who has a squeaky-clean record like you do! He didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell. You’re gonna be alone now because of his stupid, asshole decisions! And then he has the fucking audacity to say that shit to you as he’s leaving? If I knew I wouldn’t have gotten charged with assault myself—"

Hank stopped on a dime seeing her lip was warbling.

“I can’t... I can’t... I need another job,” she sputtered, her shoulders slumping defeated. “What am I going to do without him?”

Taking a deep breath to level himself out a little, Hank put his briefcase down on the cement. His hands came to her shoulders, and he caught her attention, peering into her eyes.

“I know this is all very sudden and frightening but just take a deep breath with me, okay? Okay?” She nodded and took a deep breath, him mimicking her movement. It took a few but she stopped looking like she was going to completely lose it. “Let’s get you home. Unless that’s going to be too much for you? Pictures and whatnot at home? Lots of memories to dwell in. Do you want to go to a hotel?”

“I can’t afford a hotel,” she said.

“I can,” Hank told her, sounding peppy. “Here, let me drive you – in your car – over to The Peninsula – great place, trust me. We’ll get you a room for the night or two, order you some room service. There’s a spa. A pool. They’ve got a killer hot tub.” She looked at loss for words and his thumbs caressed, pressing in with the slightest of pressure. “Come on. It’s the least I can do. It would make me feel a lot better about the whole thing. So, even if it’s just for me?”

Hank knew she was going to listen to him when he put it like that. He would not expect anything less from a woman who had been abused for so long. And he was not one to be above manipulating people for his own gain. He did not want her just waiting around when Rich was released from jail and go right back to using her as a punching bag. Oh, he wanted to shield her and protect her from that. From ever happening again. He was going to make sure he was there.

“What about your car?” she asked, and he knew he had her.

“I’ll take a taxi back over here.”

“You’re going to leave me at the hotel?”

“Only if you want me to.” He could see in her eyes that that was not what she wanted. “I can drive my car back over and park there as well. Do you want to do that?”

She nodded and he held in his elation at succeeding at bringing her in; he was good at masking his emotions. He gave her a quick smile before squeezing her arms and letting go. “Come then, passenger side. I’m driving.”

<><><>

The hotel was nice. Too nice. When you heard the desk clerk say that the room was going to be $540 a night, you grabbed Hank’s arm but he ignored you, handing his credit card over. You almost vomited on the spot. That was almost half a month’s rent.

When you got to the room, he told you to take the card the man had given the pair of you at the front desk for the spa downstairs to it. You asked if it was going to cost more, and he told you to not worry about it. When you looked reluctant, he shoved it into your hand and said he better hear about how great the spa was when he got back.

As much as you wanted to be at home, being away was good. You had a feeling he had been right about wallowing at home being in that familiar space after what had happened. Heeding what he said, you headed downstairs to the spa, making sure to choose the cheapest.

He was waiting on the bed when you got back, watching the news. You had been at the spa for over an hour. You noticed he had changed out of his suit and was in black jeans and a button up.

“I didn’t even think about a change of clothes…” you told him, gesturing that you had gotten back into your same clothes.

Hank shrugged and said, “It’ll be fine.” He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. “There’s dinner upstairs. In about an hour and a half. We can go up for drinks at the lounge beforehand.”

You played with the fabric of your sun dress and said, “I thought you said room service.”

“For breakfast,” he told you, snatching up his wallet and keys, his back to you. He slipped them into his jeans. “Dinner is Cantonese. You like that?” You nodded, shrugging. He smirked at your nervousness, and he assured you, “You’ll find something.”

The bar had a plush wall length couch and Hank led you to a table after the two of you ordered at the bar. You practically sunk into the couch. His arm came around the back of the couch, around you and he leaned in.

“So, you know, you’ve never told me what you do for work.”

You stammered at first, explaining your job. He was keeping eye contact, an intensity behind his gaze, listening with rapt attention. He asked questions about it, advancement and mobility specifically. The two of you fell naturally into conversation and it continued at dinner after you finished your drinks. Dinner was on the rooftop and night had fallen over the city. You had said you wanted the cheapest thing on the menu and Hank saw right through that, point blank asking you if the only reason you had chosen it was because it was cheapest. The embarrassed look on your face said it all and he told you to choose what you really wanted. Most of the entrees would cost what both of your meals would cost at a place when you and Rich went out, but you timidly pointed at something that looked good. He nodded and encouraged you to order it along with another cocktail. He was throwing down money tonight and you felt uncomfortable about it but it was really, really nice.

You paid him back the way you knew how. Fingers gripping the blanket, you moaned loudly as he plummeted into you. His pelvis slapped against your ass, drawing groans from him as his cock dragged in and out. He flipped you over and buried himself in you again, ravaging you with rough kisses.

He fell asleep before you. You were tucked up in his arm against his side, thinking about Rich in jail and what he would do if he saw you right now.

<><><>

Hank kept texting you and setting up dates after that. You had been on three since then. He had told you that he was interested when this whole relationship started, and he had not been lying. He had also told you that if you wanted to continue it, that was up to you. You wondered if that was still on the table – not that you were considering it at this point. But he was a man to be reckoned with, that much was clear. He carried himself with such an air of importance and had no problem telling someone their place – that you had witnessed more than once. And it included with you. He was pushy, he liked getting his way. If he did not like something, he would comment on it, and you would fold up. It was how you knew how to deal with conflict in a relationship. And he seemed perfectly content with it, always smiling when you corrected yourself and agreed with his suggestion.

Despite trying to keep him at arm’s length with a casual relationship, you caved on the third date and had let him into the apartment. Having sex in your marital bed had left you feeling guilty.

You feigned sickness the next time Hank texted asking you to go on a date. And then made up a lie when he suggested another day.

Sitting at work, you looked up and choked on your coffee. Hank was walking through the door, tearing his sunglasses off, a bouquet of flowers in hand. His eyes landed on you, and he smiled briefly, striding up to you. Your coworkers were watching with curiosity, and you wanted to melt into the floor. They knew about your marriage and how Rich was in jail. What they did not know about was Hank. Gods, what was he doing here?

“Hank…” you said underneath your breath, giving him an incredulous look.

“Yes, dear?” he said nonchalantly. Heat came to your cheeks, just knowing your coworkers had heard that. He held the bouquet out to you and said, “These are to cheer you up. You look like you’re doing better. That’s good. I was just stopping by to check in on you.” He shot a look over at your coworkers and smiled warmly. “Ladies.” He pointed at you. “May I borrow Y/N for a second?”

“Sure,” one of them, Maria, said, a devilish smile on her face. She was going to want to know everything when you came back in.

You took the flowers from him and placed them down. You stood up and followed him out of the door.

“What are you doing here?” you asked the moment the two of you were out on the sidewalk.

“Can’t I stop by and say hello?”

“Hank, my coworkers don’t know about us. What if—”

“What if what? They tell Rich? That’s very unlikely,” Hank interrupted. You closed your mouth and he stepped closer. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with you?” You shrugged, averting your gaze. His hand came up and he turned your face back to him. His tone was firm, “Y/N.”

You shrugged again, “I feel guilty.”

Hank cocked an eyebrow, “Guilty?”

“We… we had sex in our bed.”

Sighing, Hank’s hand fell from your face. “That’s what this is all about? Look, Y/N, as someone who has been cheated on, yes, it is terrible. But I’m telling you, these circumstances are incredibly unique and different. You did nothing wrong and the person who did is the one who is gone. And he deserves to be gone. You deserve happiness.”

“It doesn’t make me feel less guilty.”

“Then maybe you should just come over to my place next time. We just won’t go to your place. How’s that sound? No room to feel guilty. Whole new environment. Here, you mentioned you like to cook. How about you come over and we make a nice dinner together?” You looked down at the ground and he closed the space between the two of you. He tipped your chin up and said, “In fact, I insist. Tonight. I’ll pick you up. What do you want to cook for me?” You did not answer quick enough and he pressed, “Hmm?”

“Lasagna?”

“Lasagna it is.” He pulled his wallet out and handed over a hundred-dollar bill, shoving it into your hand. “Here, pick up the stuff and text me when you’re home. I’ve got a nice bottle of red wine to go with it. Sound good?” He was looking at you expectantly and you gave him the answer he wanted to hear, causing him to smirk. “Perfect. I’m glad, doll.”

He leaned in and gave you a kiss. He tapped your nose and smiled, “Have a good rest of your day. Remember to put the flowers in water. I’ve gotta get back to the office.”

Hank walked you back to the door and the two of you did not miss two of your coworkers bolting away from the window where they had been pressing their noses again, watching. Hank chuckled and gave you a tap on the ass as you opened the door before he pulled took his sunglasses back off his shirt and put them on, walking off.

You walked back in and they were all staring at you.

“So, he’s wearing a Rolex…” Maria started off.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx

#hank palmer x reader #rdj character #dark!hank palmer #dark hank palmer #my shit

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

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distance ~ cody fern

word count: 1829

request?: yes!

“#7 song prompt with Cody Fern. Or Xavier ?”

description: in which cody and his girlfriend battle a long distance relationship

pairing: cody fern x female!reader

warnings: none really

based on this song

if you’d like to check out my song prompt list thing that i’m doing click here!

masterlist

“This really isn't a relationship you know.”

I turned to glare at my best friend. She simply shrugged at me. “I’m just saying. Waiting around all day for him to call isn’t a relationship.”

“What am I supposed to do, (Y/F/N)?” I asked her. “Just end things with him because his career is taking off? That’s so shitty of me. And I’m not about to ask him to start turning down the roles that Ryan Murphy is offering him? These are the roles of a lifetime, he’s really starting to take off.”

(Y/F/N) shook her head, but knew there was no use talking to me. She was right, there was no use in talking to me. I wasn't about to give up a half a decade relationship because my boyfriend was achieving his dream job in acting.

Cody and I started dating around the time he started getting bigger film and television roles. He had been so excited when he was offered the role in American Crime Story, and I was excited for him. It was a show that already had one really successful season that was produced by Ryan Murphy, who was essentially known for producing some of the most popular shows on television, not to mention paving the way for so many actors to become huge in Hollywood.

After American Crime Story, Cody was cast as the leading role in the eighth season of American Horror Story, and a smaller role in the ninth season, and then a role in the final season of House of Cards. Cody was so happy, and I was happy for him. The only downside was how often he was away from home, which was like 11 months of the year.

I wasn’t famous. Far from it, actually. I had no talents in acting or singing or anything that would make me famous. I was just your normal girl who lived in a normal home and worked a normal job to afford my house, although Cody offered on numerous occasions to pay for our rent fully but I’d never let him do that. With me being stuck at home all the time and Cody gone so often, it put a bit of a strain on our relationship. We only really got to talk twice a day, in the morning and before bed. Sometimes Cody was able to call on his breaks but his breaks usually happened when I was working so I wasn’t able to answer. Our texts were also few and far between, which sucked even more.

But no matter how much the distance sucked, I’d never let that come between us. I loved Cody no matter what, and he loved me. I’d be lost without him.

“I just don’t think it’s fair for you to be here, sitting around all the time waiting for his texts or calls,” (Y/F/N) continued.

I threw my head back and groaned. “Can you give it a rest? You always talk like this. Why can’t you just accept that I’m happy no matter what mine and Cody’s situation is?”

“I just think you deserve a relationship with someone who can be here with you.”

“I��d rather be in a relationship with someone who loves me and who I love than be with someone who the only thing they can give me that Cody can’t is being here with me.” I stood from my spot on her couch. “I’m gonna go home.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry - ” she started. I held a hand up to cut her off.

“It’s fine. I understand your concern, but I love Cody. I just want people to accept that.”

(Y/F/N) gave me an awkward smile, which I awkwardly returned before saying goodbye and leaving. As I drove home, I couldn’t help but think about how she wasn’t the only one who has made comments about mine and Cody’s long distance. I had heard it a lot from different people in my life; my parents, other friends, even people online - both fans of Cody and just normal people.

I understood that people were worried about me. I had read stories before about people who were cheated on by a significant other due to long distance relationships. But I knew Cody wasn’t like that. We had been together for so long, before he was even famous. He’d never do that to me, I was sure of it.

But it does suck that you essentially spend your days waiting for him to call, something in my mind pointed out as I parked my car.

That’s not all I do, I reminded myself. I work, I relax when I’m not working, I hang out with friends and family. Sure, part of me is waiting for Cody to call, but that’s not all I do.

I sighed heavily. I really needed to stop thinking this way. Everyone was getting to my head. I just wished they’d all stop.

As if he knew I was thinking about him, my phone played Cody’s ringtone. I balanced the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I opened our friend door. “Hey baby.”

“Hello love!” Cody’s excited voice answered. “I can’t talk for long, I’m on a short break. How are you?”

I tried to put on the best fake happy voice as I responded, “I’m great! How are you honey?”

Of course, Cody knew better. “Are you okay, (Y/N)? You don’t sound great.”

I sighed again. “It’s nothing, Co, really. How’s your day? Are you filming the new season of AHS?”

“No, we’re not filming anything right now,” Cody responded. “Something is up, baby, why won’t you tell me?”

I debated on actually telling him. Maybe I should, he’d be able to ease my mind. But what if he didn’t? What if he broke up with me because of it, because he felt the same way or because he thought that’s what I wanted to do? It was such a stupid thing to worry about, why was I even considering it?

Suddenly, Cody said, “Put a pin in it, baby, I gotta go. I’ll call you as soon as I can. I really wanna know what’s wrong.”

As I heard the dial tone I realized that was why I was considering it.

~~~~~~

Hours later, the sun was starting to go down. I was laid on my couch, watching Netflix in the near pitch black. I was so tired I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. Part of me was wondering why I was even staying up, but I knew the answer was because I was waiting for Cody’s call.

I debated on just falling asleep. Staying up was just proving (Y/F/N)’s point, that I all I did was wait around for Cody to call when he wasn’t busy. But I also knew that if Cody called knowing that I was upset about something and I didn’t answer that he’d be worried, and the last thing I wanted to do was worry him too much.

Sleep was starting to win when my phone finally rang again. I picked it up and answered with a sheepish, “Hello?”

“Ah shit, did I wake you?” asked Cody. “I totally forgot how late it is.”

“No, I’ve been awake. Just watching TV,” I responded. “How was your day?”

“Long,” he said. “What’s bothering you, love? I can tell there’s something.”

I sighed heavily and ran my hand through my hair. "It’s nothing, just stupid stuff.”

“If something is bothering you it’s not nothing, and it’s especially not stupid. What’s going on honey?”

I couldn’t help but smile at Cody’s concern. “I was just thinking about...us...and this distance.”

There was a prolonged silence. I immediately regretted my decision in telling him. I was afraid of what his reaction would be - was he going to be upset that I was thinking it? Or angry? What if he was thinking the same thing? What if he breaks up with me right now?

He finally broke the silence when he asked, “Were you...thinking about ending our relationship because of it?”

“No!” I responded. “No, oh my God Cody. I’d never end this, especially not because of that.”

I could hear Cody breathe a sigh of relief. I decided to continue before he could say anything else, “It’s just...(Y/F/N) kinda got into my head today. And it’s not that I don’t want to continue this relationship because I’d never end what we have and I love you so much, but I do miss you a lot and it sucks so bad that I only get to hear from you maybe twice in a day and I see you so little.”

“I know,” Cody said. “I understand. I miss you so much, too. I wish I could be home more often with you.”

“But I don’t want you to give up acting or even take a break,” I continued. “Cause you’re blowing up right now and I’m so goddamn proud of you for it. I’d never ask for you to give any of that up. And I guess that’s just the sort of loop I’m in right now; I miss you but I’d rather you be achieving your dreams than to give them up for me.”

I realized then that I had started crying. I quickly wiped my eyes and tried to keep my voice even so Cody wouldn’t know.

“I get it, baby, I really do,” he told me. “There’s been times where I’ve wanted to invite you to come along on press tours or to set to watch me film for a month or so but I know that I can’t just take you away from your life and that it’s not that simple to just uproot you for months on end.”

I chuckled. “I guess we’re just sorta stuck in the middle then.”

“We are, but you know what? No matter what I’d never change that for the world.”

I smiled to myself. “Neither would I.”

“Hey baby?”

“Yeah Cody?”

“Come answer the door, would you?”

My eyes widened. Without evening hanging up the call, I dropped my phone and raced to our front door. I unlocked the door and swung it open to find Cody standing there, his phone still raised to his ear and his suitcase trailing behind him. He smiled brightly at me and I immediately jumped into his arms.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked.

“We finished filming the new season early and were allowed to come home,” he told me. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Mission accomplished,” I laughed.

I stepped back to let Cody into the house. He closed the door and cupped my face, kissing me deeply. “I love you so much. I’m so happy to have you in my life.”

I giggled. “I love you, too, Cody. No matter how far we are from each other.”

#Cody Fern #cody fern x reader #cody fern imagine #request #song #imagine #prompt #song prompt #ed sheeran #photograph #one shot

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anothers-trash-my-treasure · 5 years

Text

Bittersweet ~ Chapter Eight

If I was naming chapters, this one would be titled “Near or Far” and that’s all I’m gonna say.

Last official chapter, an epilogue will be on its way and honestly, I might write a few side chapters sometime too because I just love this story so much. Enjoy!

Pairing: Merriell Shelton/Reader (femme)

Warning: swearing, some angst and long-distance troubles but mostly just fluff

Word count: 4000

Tag List: @ahkmenrami1205 @itsme690 @xoa-lex @ramibaby @r-ahh-mi @xmxisxforxmaybe @sherlollydramoine @txml @moon-stars-soul @ramimedley @sassystrawberryk

*he’s so pretty i wanna cry*

Long-distance is hard.

God, it’s the fucking worst.

In some ways, it was very much the same from normal. I wake up, eat breakfast, go to my classes. I spend all day on campus, reading and studying only to leave for my job. I’d waitress all night, grab something to eat at the end of a shift, go home, watch a few episodes of Friends (even though I’ve seen it a thousand times) and head off to bed before repeating it all over again.

But then, on the other hand, it was so different.

Because I’d wake up to the standard Mornin’ Beautiful, have a good day. I’d spend all day looking at my phone and laughing at the constant stream of goofy snapchats, annoying everyone around me in the otherwise silent part of the library. I’d get a phone call at 10 o’clock sharp every night as I made way back to my apartment that would switch over to a facetime as soon as I was settled on the couch, Netflix on the TV and the love of my life’s face stretched across my computer screen, pixelated and laggy due to crappy wifi.

And every minute spent communicating in any way possible was simultaneously wonderful and heartbreaking. The technology of the present day made it so easy to hear his voice and to see him. But it was the worst thing in the world when I couldn’t come home from a long day and cuddle up with him on the couch or wake up with his arms around me. Technology couldn’t replicate touch. And it fucking sucked.

Someday’s we were both too busy to even get more than a few texts out to each other throughout the week. He was so busy at work and University kept me on my toes at all times. I was constantly writing essays, studying content or writing notes for 40-page readings that half the time the professor didn’t even attempt to cover.

We tried to be patient with each other. I knew he was working double shifts, they were short-staffed at the lumber yard and he was always talking about taking a week off to come visit me once he had enough saved up. He knew I was just as busy. But sometimes we just got agitated, so fed up with how hard it was to be away from each other that we had to lash if we wanted to keep our rule of total and utter honesty.

But we always worked things out in the end. Even if presently things were a little tense.

“Hey baby,” his voice rang through my headphones as I made my way to my next class.

“Hi Mer,” I replied, no doubt looking like an idiot as I smiled to no one.

“Whatcha doin?” He asked, his voice resembling that of a bored child. I knew he had the day off today, they were few and far between. Usually, they landed on a weekend, when we could spend the whole day on facetime, syncing up movies to watch together and enjoying what company we could get out of a computer screen.

“I am currently rushing to my Marketing class,” I say smiling politely at someone who holds the door for me, “which I am currently late for because I lost track of time in the library trying to finish an essay for my next class.”

He whistles lowly, “Busy girl.” he comments and I can hear a familiar tone in his voice. It’s lower than usual, huskier and warm around the edges. Any other time it’d send a rush of heat through me and I’d be finding the nearest private bathroom to indulge in a bit of phone sex but today I was simply too busy.

“Merriell-” I start to warn but he barrels through, completely ignoring me.

“So what'dya say? Wanna be a few more minutes late an’ be a little bad with me?” his tone is teasing, breathy and light.

“You know I can’t.” I huff at him, “The midterm for this class is next week, I really don’t have time to get you off right now.” I wince a little at the tone of my voice, but as I near my class I can’t find it in myself to feel guilty about being short with him.

“Babe,” he whines, “C’mon we haven’t done anything in like a week, I’m dyin’.”

“You’re not.” I deadpan, “Mer, I’m really sorry. I’ll try to make some time this weekend but midterms are coming up and-”

“I know, I know.” he sighs, “You gotta study.”

It’s silent as I stand outside my classroom, not wanting to leave things with this kind of tension but knowing if I don’t head into lecture I will surely pay the consequences.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly, “I gotta go, I love you.”

“Near or far baby.” he replies and despite the tension I know he’s got a smile on his face

The rest of the week carries out more or less the same way. He calls and I’m busy, we hang up and I’m left feeling guilty. But University is demanding and it won’t let me stray away long enough to talk to him for more than ten minutes at a time. I try to compromise, face timing him while I study at home, thinking that just having his presence, even if he sits there silently while I do my thing, will be enough to tie him over until midterms are over. But that doesn’t prove to work well either.

“-Gene and I went out the other day and I swear to god, the poor kid got rejected by every girl in the bar. Not that I’m surprised, y’know Gene, he neva’ did have much game an-”

“Mer,” I sigh exasperated, putting my pen down on the table with an audible thump, “Y’know I love to hear these stories but it’s really distracting and I need to run through this chapter again.” My eyes linger on the pixelated version of his face on my screen, it doesn’t do him any justice. The shitty camera quality of our laptops do nothing to catch the true colour of his eyes or the texture of his hair and Jesus christ I miss him.

“So ya jus’ want me to sit here silently?” he asks, a twinge of annoyance to his voice.

“I mean it’s what you’d be doing if you were here,” I point out, “Look, I just thought that doing this could at least try to mimic us being together since I don’t really have time to do the usual talkative shit.” I rub my temples, feeling a strain just behind my eyes that comes with studying for ongoing seven hours.

“Baby, I know you’re busy. I get it, but Jesus Christ I feel like-” he breaks off with a sigh, looking away from the screen for a second, “This is the most I’ve talked to you in the past two weeks.”

I shake my head lightly, looking around at the mess of papers, textbooks and cue cards that litter my kitchen table, “I don’t know what you want from me right now, Merriell, I’m trying my best.” I insist, running my hands through my greasy, tangled hair.

“I know ya are,” he says, voice rising slightly as his frustrations surface, “I know you’re trying, it’s just I fucking hate this.”

“Hate what Mer?” I question, feeling irritation bubble up inside of me, “Hate that I can’t devote all my time and energy to talking to you?” I’m about to go on, having a list of things to say but he’s having none of my shit tonight.

“Don’t start with that shit,” he glares at me through the screen, “You know I don’t expect that.”

“Well then stop fucking acting like it,” I exclaim, laughing a bit but there’s no humour in it.

“Y/n,” he sighs, running a hand over his face tiredly, “Fuck, why’s this gotta be so fucking hard.” he groans, eyes running over his screen, no doubt taking in my appearance.

My finger lifts from the table, running over the projection of his face on my screen. My heart longs to feel the warmth of his skin under my fingertips, I can hardly remember the feeling of his strong jaw, of the light stubble that builds there after a few days of not shaving. My hands itch to run through his hair, to feel the texture of the curls that are somehow soft and coarse all at once. The worst part of long-distance, I conclude, is not being able to touch.

“I just miss ya so much,” He says softly, and even through the pixels, I can see his eyes soften with sadness.

“I know Mer,” I say compassionately, “I miss you too.”

We sit silently for another few moments, I push away the nagging at the back of my head that screams at me to study, not wanting to risk upsetting him more.

“Maybe I can come visit soon,” he wonders out loud, clicking and typing loudly at his laptop and I know he’s checking his bank statements, “It’s a little tight right now but I wouldn’t starve by any means an’ ‘Gene owes me money anyway I could use for rent-”

“Merriell, no.” I say sadly because as much as I want him to come up, I don’t want him going broke because of it, “We talked about this, you only come up if you can afford to do it without putting yourself in debt.” He opens his mouth to argue so I speak to cut him off, “You’d tell me the same thing.”

He sighs, burying his head in hands. I can see his shoulders are tense, frustration running through every muscle of his body. He takes another minute or two before he looks back up at the screen.

“Yeah, okay.” he says quietly, “I’ll let ya study.”

“You don’t have to go,” I point out weakly, “I know it’s hard for you to be quiet but I’m sure if you made an effort...” it’s a poor attempt at a joke but it gets his lips twitching into a weak smile nonetheless.

“Nah, can’t have my smart girl failing her classes,” He pauses, “Then I couldn’t tease ‘Gene about how fuckin’ stupid he is.”

I huff out a laugh, “Go easy on the poor guy.”

“Never” he replies easily with a cheeky smirk.

I shake my head in amusement, the humour replacing the tension that crossed over us if only for a few moments, it’s welcomed.

“I love you, Mer,” I say softly, “You know that right?”

It feels important that he knows it, that he believes it. Lately, every conversation we’ve had has ended in apologies and I hate that. I hate that we fight so often, I hate that I have to be so far away from him all the time and I fucking hate, even the possibility, that he could think that I don’t love him.

He smiles softly, sadly, “I know baby,” he assures me, “I love you too.”

I sigh, returning my attention back to the textbooks spread across my table. They seem so unimportant right now. The sight of them only reminds me of how terrible of a girlfriend I’ve been lately and the thought of choosing studying over him again makes me sick to my stomach.

“I’ll let ya go.” he says, snapping me out of my trance.

I don’t want him to go. I want to keep talking to him, I want to listen to his stupid stories about Eugene striking out with the ladies and his day at work and I want him to hit on me like he doesn’t already have me wrapped around his finger. I’m so unbelievably exhausted, school draining every last ounce of energy from me and yet still demanding more. I can feel tears pricking behind my eyes at the thought of being alone in my quiet apartment.

“Okay.” I croak, taking a shaky breath and looking away from his image before I really lose it.

“Hey,” he says softly, “You got this baby girl. Just a few more days an’ you’re in the clear.” I nod, chewing a hole in my lip, “we’re gonna get through this, I promise. Near or far, right?”

I nod again, taking a steadying breath before saying our final goodbyes for the night. I know I’m being stupid, he’ll text me within the hour but that doesn’t the aching in my chest when his face disappears from my screen, replaced with the home screen.

Midterms could not end fast enough.

“Cheers,” Chloe says loudly over the noise of the bar surrounding us, holding a shot high above her head, “to what seems like the longest two weeks of our lives. We did it. Through our blood, sweat, and for some of us,” she sends me a pointed look, “a whole lot of tears. But midterms,” she pauses for dramatic effect, keeping us all in a form of amused suspense, “are over!”

The group hoots and hollers and we drown our shots, barely wincing at the harshness of the alcohol against our throats. It’s early, but a lot of us are already well on our way to being drunk. Spring break has officially begun and that means a whole week of binge drinking and ignoring all our upcoming academic responsibilities.

“I didn’t cry that much.” I insist for seemingly the thousandth time.

Chloe laughs loudly, “Oh come on, Y/N.” she pushes my shoulder playfully, “There was hardly a day you didn’t call me in tears because you were behind on studying.”

I pout dramatically, “I was only behind because my idiot boyfriend kept distracting me.”

“He is an idiot,” she agrees, earning herself a slightly too hard punch to the shoulder on my behalf, “Speaking of,” she continues, “How are things with you guys?”

I shrug, rubbing at the condensation on my glass, “We’re fine.” I answer, “He keeps insisting we’re fine anyways. Even though all we’ve done lately is fight about how hard this whole long-distance thing is.” I meet her concerned gaze and shrug again, “It’ll be better now that midterms are over I just...miss him. It’s hard.”

She nods, understanding, “You think you’ll be able to see him soon?”

“I don’t think so.” I say sadly, “All the money I save goes right back into paying for school. He’s trying to save but I think it’ll be a little while yet.”

Midterms kept me busy enough, that it hadn’t really occurred to me how much longer it could be before I could see my boy again. I was so focused on vocabulary, theories and information that will soon be next to useless, I always had something else to contemplate. But now that it’s all over I’m hit with the unfortunate reality that it could be months before I see him again. And the mere thought of that makes my heartache.

“God Chloe, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” I whine, pouting dramatically.

A small, kind of sly smile creeps over her lips and her eyes glimmer with mischief, “Is that so?”

Her voice sounds teasing and I’m left feeling like I’m the last one in on a joke. I take in the table around me and notice that all my friends are staring at me, giddy with excitement. My brow crumples in confusion and I look back at Chloe, who is practically bursting at the seams, phone pointed and aimed towards me.

“What are you doing?” I question, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Turn around,” she says simply.

I do what she says, turning around in my seat to address the scene behind me and I can’t believe my eyes. Standing in the middle of the bar is an all too familiar figure with unruly curls and sea-green eyes.

The next thing I know, I’ve thrown myself out of the chair and across the bar floor, all but tackling him. His arms wrap tightly around me, we spin and my senses are enveloped in everything that is so undeniably Merriell. I can hear him laughing in my ear, deep and throaty, can feel his arm around my waist, his hand in my hair and his lips on my forehead, mumbling soft words that I can’t hear over the cheering of my friends and drunk bystanders. My fingers clench in his loose-fitting t-shirt desperately, as if I were to let him go he’d disappear. I’m not aware of the tears running down my cheeks until he tilts my head up to gently wipe them away.

“Baby, why you cryin’?” he teases, kissing the tip of my nose softly.

I let out a wet laugh and shake my head, unable to do anything other than stare up at him admiringly for a moment. I take in a shaky breath, “You’re such an asshole.” it’s said without heat and he beams down at me, placing soft kisses on my lips.

He maneuvers us back to our table, where he greets Chloe and introduces himself to my friends. I’m faintly aware of everything around me that isn’t him, not quite grasping the fact that this is real, he’s here and not hundreds of miles away in a whole other state.

“What are you doing here?” I finally ask, my thoughts having settled in my head much in the same way I have settled sideways on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

He looks at me with a smile, eyes soft, “Honestly, I jus’ couldn’t wait any longer.”

The group ‘aw’s and I am helpless to do anything but lean in to kiss him.

The rest of the night we drink, dance and for the first time months, I feel light and happy. Hardly a moment goes by where we’re not touching each other in some way. It had been too long since we’ve felt the warmth of each other’s bodies against one another, his hands on my hips, mine on his chest. It felt so surreal to have him near again. He was just as obnoxious and loud as I remembered him being and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We had pissed off the rest of the bar while dancing. A familiar jazz tune came on and Merriell had tugged me to the dance floor, attempting to teach me a form of swing dancing that I was 99% certain wasn’t even a thing. Chloe had finally managed to get us to leave, but not after he had managed to nearly get us thrown out for public indecency. Totally his fault, he can’t expect to kiss me like that and not expect me to want to jump his bones.

The memories of last night come filtering back to me, much like the sunlight that finds its way into the room through my curtains. My eyes flutter open and my senses slowly come back to me. The feeling of soft blankets around my body, the warm skin of his chest beneath my cheek, a hand resting limply on my waist and our legs tangled with each other. His chest rises and falls slowly, mouth parted ever so slightly as he sleeps deeply. I shift on my stomach to watch him, taking in every detail I had forgotten over time. The way his fingers twitch restlessly in his sleep, how his muscles clench ever so slightly as I run my fingers across his abdomen. I missed waking up to him like this. He looks at peace and I can’t help but wonder if he sleeps this good when we’re apart.

He breathes in deeply suddenly, face scrunching against the offending sunlight. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer as his other hand rubs the sleep away from his face. He hums softly, a sleepy smile spreading across his features as his eyes flutter open and meet mine.

“Mornin’” he murmurs.

I feel a grin split across my face as I admire his handsome features in the morning light, “Good morning.”

“I missed this.” He sighs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I hum in agreement, leaning into his touch, “me too.”

We stay like that for a while. His arms around me, my fingers dancing across his skin, the room just slightly too warm to be pressed so close but neither of us willing to move away from the other just yet. I don’t know how long he’s staying, how long it’ll be before we see each other again after this and yet I find myself reluctant to bring up the conversation, afraid to shatter the perfect moment we’ve created.

“Could stay like this forever,” I say instead, softly, a tinge of sadness and longing to my voice.

He hums softly, a hand coming up to run through my hair, gently brushing away any knots with his fingers, “About that...”

I pull away, pushing myself up and away from his body to look at him. I feel anxiety begin to bubble in the pit of my stomach at the uncharacteristic bashfulness on his face.

“What?” I ask softly, searching his face for any clues.

His eyes run over my features silently, lip drawn between his teeth as he debates how to bring up the mysterious subject.

“I may have done somethin..” he hesitates, “kind of stupid.”

My mind runs to a million and ten different possibilities, every one worse than the last. My entire body runs tight. But it seems to focus on one possibility in particular and just the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I’ve heard too many long-distance relationships gone wrong because of drunken loneliness and one night stands and ‘she’ll never have to know’s and I can practically hear him say it in my haze of overthinking.

I cheated on you.

“I sold my apartment.”

I blink. My mouth opens and shuts and I’m at a loss for words because I don’t know what this conversation is going to be. I silently chastise myself for jumping to a conclusion so drastic. Confusion swarms me as I take in how absolutely nervous he is.

“Okay,” I say slowly, trying desperately to grasp what the underlying meaning is, “Why?” I ask eventually.

His lips twitch into a bashful smile, looking out the window briefly before crossing his legs and sitting closer to me, taking my hand in his.

“Well,” he starts, looking back up at me with soft eyes, “Because lately New Orleans’ hasn’t really felt like home.” Something clicks in my brain and I have to force myself to contain my excitement, just in case I’m wrong, “So the stupid thing was selling my place before comin’ here and askin’ you this but..” he trails off and he looks so nervous and absolutely adorable that I have to restrain myself from kissing him silly.

“What would ya think about us movin’ in togetha’? Here?”

A small laugh escapes my lips and I can’t hold myself back anymore, practically tackling him back onto the mattress, kissing him passionately. A grin on my part breaks our kiss.

“I would fucking love that.”

A slow smile spreads across his lips like he truly can’t believe that I agreed and I’m helpless to do anything other than kiss him again.

“Thank God,” he sighs into my mouth, “‘Cause I got ‘Gene on standby ready to ship all my shit over here,” he says in between kisses.

My heart sores. Never again will we have to resort to weekly facetime calls just to see each other’s face. Never again will I forget the warmth of his body against mine and never again will I have to face heartbreaking longing that I feel when he’s not with me.

My hand cups his jaw and rubs my thumb over his cheekbone, “I love you so damn much, Merriell Shelton.” I say hopelessly.

He beams at me, rubbing our noses together softly and muttering the phrase that, to us, means unconditional love.

“Near or far.”

A/N: AND THAT IT!!! Feedback is welcome or seriously if y’all ever wanna just spam my inbox with Snafu love I am totally here for it.

#Merriell Shelton #Merriell Snafu Shelton #merriell shelton x reader #merriell shelton/reader #snafu #Snafu Shelton #snafu x reader #snafu shelton x reader #the pacific #fluff

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juju-on-that-yeet · 5 years

Text

Pulled Below

Prompt: Whumptober Day 21, Laced Drink

Summary: The Warfstache TV press party takes a turn when Bim finds himself drugged. Fortunately Wilford is there to keep things from going too far.

Warnings: Character gets roofied, but no assault happens

Tagging: @peribloke @tired-eldritchhorror (ask to be tagged!)

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

So far, the press party for the upcoming new season of Warfstache TV has been a smashing success. Bim’s been scurrying from reporter to journalist to potential sponsor to media head for the past who-knows-how-long and keeping an excited smile on his face the whole time, and it seems to be paying off. There’s a lot of big names behind Warfstache TV this year, and a few who seem willing to back Hire My Ass as well.

After two straight hours of schmoozing, Bim finally, finally takes a moment to breathe, sitting at the bar and letting his eternal smile fall off his face with a sigh.

The party isn’t in the studio (Dark would never have allowed it), but rather at a swanky penthouse rooftop Bim rented for the occasion, complete with a fully stocked bar. The crowd is large and self-sustaining, business cards are being shared like flu germs, and Wilford is still bouncing from person to person, so Bim thinks he can afford to tap out for a few moments.

“What are you having?” asks the bartender.

“You got sex on the beach?” Bim asks.

The bartender nods and turns to make it.

“A bit girly, don’t you think?”

Bim turns to his right to see another man sitting one seat away, flashing a teasing grin. His suit and tie are both pitch black, but his hair is fluffy and reddish brown. His eyes are mossy green with flecks of brown to match his hair. He looks younger than Bim, probably early twenties. Bim doesn’t know what media outlet or news station he’s with, but he laughs anyway.

“What can I say?” he says as the bartender hands him his drink. “I like what I like.” He pulls out his wallet to pay, but the man beats him to it, putting his card on the table.

“My treat,” he says, “If you don’t mind talking to me for a while.”

Oh, so it’s like that, then. Still, Bim’ll take the free drink.

“Business or pleasure?” Bim asks, sipping his drink, “Or maybe both? Both is most fun.” The other man laughs.

“I was hoping for both, yes.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Aaron, by the way.”

“Bim Trimmer, but I’d hope you knew that already,” Bim quips, shaking Aaron’s hand. Aaron grins.

“Oh, of course. I came with some colleagues from Star Cross Media.”

“What do you do there?”

“Ah, I’m…” Aaron cough-laughs. “I’m the intern. I managed to talk my way into coming here with the rest of the marketing team, though.”

“I sure remember those days,” Bim says, sending a sidelong glance to where Wilford is telling a story to a small crowd. “Sometimes I think I'm still living them, seeing as I'm the one who planned this whole party in the first place. But if you keep doing good work, you’ll get somewhere eventually.”

“Well, if nothing else, I can say I’m endorsed by the Bim Trimmer!”

“You flatter me!” Bim laughs. “Keep doing that.”

They continue to talk for a while, a bit about Bim’s show and Aaron’s company, but mostly they air grievances with their industry and make small talk. It doesn’t escape Bim’s notice that Aaron wants a little more than career advice from him. That much was clear from the moment he offered to pay for Bim’s drink. Bim is practiced at dealing with things like this, he’s good at acknowledging advances and responding just enough, enough to keep the other party happy without giving them too many expectations. It’s gotten a bit harder to do since he and Oliver started dating, but in this industry it pays to schmooze, even if it’s just to an intern. Besides, Aaron’s a nice kid; funny and charming but earnest, too new to the business to be cynical. Bim’s humored much meaner, and he’ll be honest, uglier people throughout his career. What can he say? Oliver will always be the cutest, most handsome thing ever in the universe…but Bim’s a sucker for pretty people. Aaron’s a good-looking guy, and Bim probably would’ve been attracted to him if he wasn’t in love with Oliver. It’s mostly his eyes, those pretty green-brown eyes.

Bim keeps staring at those eyes.

Pretty, pretty eyes.

Why is Bim so tired all of a sudden?

Is he drunk? No, that can’t be. He drank his sex on the beach but he didn’t order anything else. He’s pretty sure he didn’t. He tears his eyes away from Aaron’s to look back towards his glass. Nope, still just one empty glass. Why can’t he remember, though? He looks back at Aaron. He’s saying something. Shit, Bim should be listening. The room swims as he tries to focus.

“You alright?” Aaron asks. His voice sounds a little too far away.

“Yeah…” Bim rubs his eyes with one hand. His arm falls back down when he stops, too heavy to hold itself up. “I…just…”

He just what? He can’t think straight. His head hurts. He wants to go to sleep.

“C’mon, let me help you,” Aaron says, leaving his chair. He helps Bim up, and Bim puts an arm around his shoulders on instinct to support himself. “I’ll take you home, you’re probably done for the night.”

Wait, that’s not right, is it? Aaron can’t take Bim home, humans can’t get into Ego Inc. Not unless they’re contestants on his or Wilford’s shows. Did Aaron volunteer? Probably not. Bim can’t focus on anything. His feet drag as Aaron pulls him along. His eyes drift shut and won’t open again. He doesn’t quite pass out, but everything is hazy and indistinct as Aaron practically drags him…somewhere. Bim can’t think hard enough to guess where.

It’s about that moment when Wilford, from across the room, realizes that something is amiss. He watches some random guy – Aaron, was it? One of the people he spoke to earlier mentioned him – help Bim out of his seat and start half-carrying him towards the rooftop exit. Bim’s form is boneless in Aaron’s arms, his feet drag along, scuffing his shoes. Which is all Wilford needs to decide to act, because if Bim were in his right mind he’d never let his shoes get even a single mark on them. He strides over to the pair and intercepts Aaron just before he gets to the door.

“What’s going on here, now?” Wilford laughs, “Bimmy couldn’t handle his alcohol, hm?” He doubts that’s the truth, but he’s not about to make a scene. Yet.

“No, sir,” Aaron says, flashing an insincere, uncomfortable grin. “I’m helping him get to the bathroom before he pukes on himself or me.”

Wilford’s trigger finger twitches, just slightly. He’s known Dark too long to fall for such an obvious lie as the one this kid is spinning. Not to mention Wilford’s seen Bim drunk before, and this is not Bim drunk. Bim is motionless, possibly unconscious, but Wilford doesn’t know for sure.

“No need for “sir,” kid,” Wilford drawls. His eyes narrow, though his grin stays in place. “My friends call me Wil, so you can call me Wilford.”

“Uh…” Aaron blinks, momentarily thrown off by Wilford’s phrasing. “Of course, Wilford. Well, we’ll be on our way. I’d love to chat when we get back, though!” He steps forward, but Wilford doesn’t budge.

“Maybe I ought to help him,” Wilford says, “He’s my friend and all.”

“Well, truth be told,” Aaron says, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially, “We were actually gonna get out of here, if you get what I mean.” He grins, all charm. “Be a bro and let us head out, huh?”

“I doubt Bim’s boyfriend would be happy about that.”

“Oh, he’s taken? He didn’t tell me that.” He pauses, considering, but then shrugs – as much as he can with Bim leaning on his shoulder. “Well, I don’t mind if he doesn’t, and I already know he doesn’t.”

“No, that doesn’t make sense, you see…” Wilford steps closer, leaning over Aaron. “Bim and I go way back, and I know him like the back of my hand. Bim’s a lot of things, but he’s no cheater. And he’s not one to get plastered at business events, either.”

“He must’ve misjudged his limit,” Aaron insists, “Happens to the best of us. He’ll sober up in an hour and we’ll have a great time. Now, if you excuse us–”

There’s the distinctive click of a gun being cocked, and Aaron looks down to see a revolver in Wilford’s hand, pointed at his stomach.

“What the–!”

“What’s the truth, Aaron?” Wilford asks, a mad glint in his eye. “You haven’t been very honest with me so far.”

“I-I’m not–”

“You have five seconds. Maybe two, I’m not picky.”

“Alright, fine!” Aaron’s charming mask falls and he scowls. “Fine, I drugged him, but obviously he’s not worth the trouble.” He pushes Bim towards Wilford, who catches him with one arm. Bim’s only response to being tossed to another person is a soft groan.

“Excellent,” Wilford replies, grinning. “It pays to tell the truth, doesn’t it, chap?” He holsters his gun and adjusts Bim with his now-free hand as he steps to the side. “Now get out of my sight.”

Aaron scurries out the door, and Wilford waits until the door closes before snapping his fingers. He hears a hitched breath, then a thud, and grins ever-wider. Shooting and stabbing are always the most fun, but Wilford has enough power in his pinky finger to kill a man in an instant, without fanfare. It’s so easy to stop a heart with a single motion – in this case, a snap of his fingers.

Bim groans again from Wilford’s shoulder. Wilford looks down at him, pink eyes meeting heavy-lidded brown ones.

“You’re alright, Bimmy,” he tells him gently, ruffling his hair. “How about we turn in early? No offense to your party planning, but this party kinda sucks.”

Bim quirks his lips, almost smiling but not quite strong enough to manage it. Wilford grins back, this time his classic, eye-crinkling happy smile, before snapping his fingers one more time to teleport them both to the clinic.

#whumptober2019 #no.21 #bim trimmer #wilford warfstache #markiplier fanfiction #markiplier #fanfic #kristin says stuff #my writing #if your name is aaron i'm sorry ;w;

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ifridiot · 5 years

Note

ok but imagine this: lieberpool. Imagine david not knowing what to think when frank comes back to the hideout with a red-suited body riddled with so many holes david can see through the guy. Imagine his surprise when the body gets up and starts talking. David and wade bonding over hideout pancakes and synthpop bops. Imagine wade sneaking david out to tag along on his hits. Imagine franks face when wade and david come back at 4 in the morning and david is covered in other peoples and just fine

Dude, I’m not even going to try and say I haven’t been rolling this vague ship concept around for a while. lets take ‘er for a spin.

The Start of a Good Porno

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Wade being Wade, Suggestive Dialog

It’s a hair past three AM when David’s phone buzzes. It should irritate him, but he’s just laying alone in the dark imagining what a full night’s sleep is like anyway, so having Frank call is more an excuse to start the day than anything.

Rolling out of bed, he thumbs the ‘accept’ icon, muttering a tired, “Yeah?” and getting the exhausted, exhilarated panting that he expects. Frank sounds like he’s hauling something heavy, and David can only imagine him, shitty burner phone tucked between shoulder and ear, hoping David picks up. “What’dyou need, Frank?”

He sounds more awake that time, and he’s a little surprised at the breathless chuckle he gets.

“Got a guy you need to talk to,” Frank manages, and then, grunting, speaking away from the receiver, “Stay fuckin’ put, idiot.”

It’s too early for this bullshit. It could any hour of the day, David thinks, and it would be too early for this bullshit.

But what the fuck, right? He’s divorced, he’s got no social life left to speak of, and helping Frank at least lets him feel like he’s not completely dead. So he’s on his feet, grabbing jeans and sweatshirt, looking for his damn hat to cover the hair he keeps meaning to get trimmed but can’t seem to find the drive to actually deal with. “Where?”

“Second closest to you.” He can hear the twist of Frank’s smile, that grim and somehow mocking expression. “Wouldn’t want you to have to walk far at night.”

“Fuck you,” David says, but he’s smiling too. He knows the place Frank’s referring to, knows all the boltholes and hideaways Frank’s got the city because half of them he helped set up. After all, if he’s going to get calls at ungodly hours, he might as well be able to find the places and make himself useful. He shoves his phone into his pocket, turns a slow circle in his tiny apartment, and nabs his hat from the far side of his bed, tugging it over his hair in an effort to make the wild curls less obvious.

It’s not a bad night. Morning. Whatever you call it when midnight has come and gone but the sun still hasn’t risen. He moves briskly, covering ground quickly. People tend not to remember you if you move like you belong, and David’s spent long enough pretending to be dead to know how to get around without attracting attention. He’s more worried about Frank, honestly; he knows he won’t lead anyone anywhere because he’s not the guy out there shooting thugs and crooked cops. People chase Frank; no one is looking for David.

All told, it takes less than twenty minutes to get to the rundown tenement block Frank’s rented space in. David has been here a few times, first to set up a computer array (he gave Frank a list of what he needed and didn’t ask how Frank came about the components, just installed everything) and then a few times to run some info or track leads Frank couldn’t muddle the old fashioned way. Or didn’t have time to muddle.

Either way, he’s heard dry coughing from one other room several times, and once the hair-raising laughter of someone either exceptionally stoned or experiencing a sharp mental break from somewhere above them. It’s the kind of building that will, sooner or later, be bought up for cheap by some real estate group and torn down to make way for more fashionable, expensive accommodations, whether the people already living here could afford to leave or not.

He expects -- always expects -- Frank to be waiting, some poor schmuck bleeding all over the shitty carpet, maybe tied to one of the chairs, maybe under gunpoint. Once the schmuck in question had been half dead and, in Frank’s words, “a decent bastard”. David didn’t know what happened to him after he’d finished getting the information from him that he’d needed to finish the hack job Frank had assigned him, but it was kind of hard to imagine Frank rolling up in that shitty van to the ER.

David learned in the year he spent playing a dead man that it was better not to ask questions you didn’t need an answer to.

This time, he’s beaten Frank. That’s fine; it gives him time to get the computers running. Sometimes he misses that basement, eternal damp and all. At least down there the computers were always live, and he didn’t have to worry much about Frank fucking them up because he was always there and Frank knew better than to touch shit he didn’t understand.

Here, who knows how often Frank hides out? How much of the time is this collection of computing equipment just left on its own, perfect for some junkie looking for an easy score? He likes to think no one would dare break into one of Frank’s places, but then again, if the intruder doesn’t know who’s place it is, it doesn’t rightly matter does it?

He’s listening for the rattle of the doorknob, expecting Frank to be injured or dealing with someone live enough to give some measure of trouble. His heart is tight -- all this time and this bullshit still gets him nervous and flighty -- and when the window squeals open he whips around where he’s standing just in time to watch a dark bundle tumble through the window. Frank climbs in after, stepping neatly around the ominously still bundle, mouth set in a grim line. It’s Frank’s ‘my patience is wearing thin’ face, and the body -- David’s pretty damn sure it’s a body -- is covered in a lot of red.

Some of that is fabric, but David knows plenty of it is blood; Frank’s smeared in plenty of it.

Without really thinking, David moves to try helping Frank get the guy off the floor, and Frank irritably waves him back, moving to get his arms around the man. He’s limp as a rag doll, and he’s --

“Holy shit, Frank, did you cut his leg off?”

This leaves him in a sort of muted shout, because he’s aware enough to know that he can’t be shouting here, even if most of the other tenants are unlikely to stick their noses into someone else’s business. Run-down place like this, no one wants to call the cops.

Frank gives him an evil look, and David realizes that the guy he’s hauling up is also missing a hand on the same side. He’s wearing a mask, and it takes David a minute to place the mask before he sits heavily in his computer chair, cursing under his breath.

Deadpool is infamous enough that David knows at least some of his business. Not enough to have a full picture, but enough to know a willing team-up with Frank was unlikely. David doesn’t really want to be around when the supposedly unkillable mercenary comes to and tries to skewer Frank from dragging him here.

But he is here. So that’s that, he guesses.

That’s what being alive is, isn’t it? Being afraid of dying.

“You know, I feel like I shouldn’t have to be the one to explain to you that dragging home crazy immortal murderers is a really above-and-beyond way to get us both killed.”

Frank crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, Deadpool deposited to leak all over the ratty leather couch. “He wanted to come. Stay here, I gotta go get… uh, the rest… out of the van.”

He laughs at whatever scrunched up face David makes, and David flips him off. He’s pretty sure when Frank says ‘the rest’, he doesn’t mean more people. And sure, David’s been around his share of dead bodies at this point, but it’s not exactly like he’s had to worry about any of them coming back to life while he’s alone with them.

But Frank, as ever, gives him no room to argue; he’s back out the window and rattling the fire escape like he’s looking for extra attention. All David can do is sit and stare and hope Deadpool stays dead until Frank’s back.

Which, of course, means he draws a sharp, rattling breath two minutes later, sitting up and clawing at his mask with the hand he still has. He hauls it up over his nose, revealing enough of his face for David to figure out that everything he’s read is true as far as the disfigurements go -- the skin shown is waxy and scar-riddled and pale, and he gulps air like he’s been drowning.

Then he starts trying to sit up, looking around the room. “God, wow, what a sty. Please, please tell me he doesn’t make you live here. God, he probably does. Don’t worry, scared little computer man, I’ll talk to him.”

It’s a lot, really, and somehow David finds himself chuckling. It’s not as nervous a sound as he expects it to be, and the mercenary bleeding all over the couch and floor grins, all crooked teeth and honest pleasure at having gotten a laugh.

“So where’s Himbo Rambo gone? Pretty sure he didn’t make you carrying me inside.”

“Frank?” David doesn’t know why he looks for clarification -- who the fuck else could that be? “He, uh. I think he went to get your, uh. Leg? Maybe?”

"Aw, bless his heart, he actually grabbed it? So much faster than waiting for it to regrow. Hi, I’m Wade, Deadpool, I’d offer to shake your hand, but only horse thieves shake left handed.”

Maybe it’s the absurdity, or maybe it’s the way the man reclines back on the couch and crosses what’s left of his right leg over his left, but David finds himself laughing again. It’s even easier the second time, and Deadpool -- Wade -- looks downright smug about it. “Is there anything I can, uh, get you?”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna ask Frank if we can trade minions, you are already so much better than Weas.”

“Uh.”

“Jokes, haha, we love to laugh. I know you’re not a trading card, and Weas would suck at helping Frank. He barely helps me.”

“O-kay,” David drawls, not sure anymore about the giddy bubbling in his chest. Exhaustion is a hell of a drug, he supposes, and the rapid banter from a guy missing a significant portion of his limbs is probably something of a shock. He turns his chair back toward the computers, sifting through files until he finds the project documents he’d put together surrounding the case Frank was supposed to be prioritizing now. He can hear the rattle of the fire escape, more subtle now, and after a second Frank comes in through the window again, something bundled up in the fabric of his coat.

It makes David grimace, and as Frank drags the window shut after him, jerking it down sharply against the resistance of the ancient frame, the room seems to bloom with a butcher-shop smell David is regretfully familiar with.

“Oh Frank, I figured I’d have to buy you dinner first,” Wade says, and when David glances at them, Frank is scowling, on his knees in front of Wade, one hand wrapped with business-like authority around the merc’s severed leg, the other pushing his legs open to give himself room to work. “Though I gotta say, you getting on your knees on the first date is super good fanfic material. I hope the readers are enjoying themselves as much as me.”

So the thing about him being absolutely insane is clearly as true as the rest. David can’t imagine anyone making that kind of joke with Frank, and he’s not even going to try addressing the ‘fanfic’ comment.

“Shut up,” Frank grumbles, and sits back on his heels to start peeling the leg out of the section of costume that had been cut off with it.

Wade presses a hand to his chest, mock offended. “Are you worried that I won’t reciprocate? I’ll have you know I am a very generous lover and there are people who would pay to get my mouth--”

“Wilson, I will break your goddamn jaw. Zip it.”

“And then how will I tell Micro here -- please god don’t let that be some kind of foreshadowing size joke -- all about the pretty tech you need him to hunt down?”

“I assume you know how to write.”

“Oh, witty repartee from the man who mostly just grunts in his Netflix show! I love it. But sadly no, not left handed, and since I don’t see Ms. Michigan falling out of your badass leather duster, I’m going to assume I’m expected to just wait on that to grow back.”

Really, David’s not sure if he’s even meant to be keeping up in this. Listening to them is like being an extra in a film, like he’s not important enough to have his own lines. It’s both irritating and a little soothing -- he’s not exactly sure he wants to be a main character in this situation.

“Just tell him. I want to get this done some time before the end of the fucking world.”

“I love when you get all grim-dark, baby, it’s a real mood elevator. You sure you don’t wanna just trade blowies and call it a night?”

Frank makes noise that promises violence, one hand moving to sweep over his face. David knows whatever patience Frank’s got left is fraying by this point, and decides he might as well speak up.

“What’m I supposed to be looking for?” He asks, and feels weirdly trapped when Deadpool turns his attention on him, like he’s no longer interested in Frank ripping the fabric away from his thigh. He doesn’t let himself look away, although he really wants to, and the merc grins. “I mean, if it keeps him from stabbing you, probably better to just tell me. I wanna go back to bed sometime tonight.”

Wade shimmies on the couch until he’s sitting straight, make Frank growl in frustration before getting up to go fish something out of one of the narrow closet in the hall. David’s not terribly surprised when he comes back with a roll of duct tape, but he’s more focused on the merc as he starts describing the tech that Frank was interested in. He knows, of course, no actual technical terms, so is reduced to gesturing vaguely with his stump and his hand, describing colour and function and the exact way the device had exploded when he had shot it.

“It was like it made everybody else think they were somewhere else,” Wade says by way of wrapping up. “Somewhere bad, if the screaming was any judge, which it usually is. Where’d it take you, Frankie?”

Frank made a vague noise, lips pressed together, eyes on his work as he tried to get Wade’s leg back in proper place, taping it carefully. Obviously not something he wanted to talk about, which was, honestly, par for the course with Frank and unpleasant situations. He preferred to bottle everything up until it exploded, violently, out of him.

“Anyway, I figure it’s probably some kind of brain fuckery, cause a lot of that shit doesn’t work on me. My eggs are already scrambled. But it wasn’t just brain stuff cuz some guy got for-real gutted, and usually psychic visions don’t do that. And there was no evil Professor X in that little box, either.”

David has already turned and started searching. He has a few vague ideas about what the device could have been and whole might have made it. “And the thing you blew up, was it… streamlined, I guess? Did it look like something you could make at home?”

“Nah, it was super sci-fi sleek, very high tech. I wouldn’t promise ‘mass-produced’ but if there was an Evil Villain Market this would be like, in the artisan crafts section.”

The room goes quiet, just the sound of David typing and Frank tearing short strips of duct tape, and eventually Wade starts humming. It takes David a second to place the song, before he recognizes it as ‘We Found Love’. His brows slide up, because that’s an odd choice, but he focuses on following the data, between the goons Frank had been after tonight, they guy paying them, and the various shiny new bits of tech that could feasibly manage what Deadpool had described.

When Frank meanders over to his side, he can feel the agitation drifting off him like a cloud. He wonders if Frank has any new injuries he’s covering up with all the anger and irritation he’s projecting, and decides that’s probably Frank’s problem if he has. If Frank wanted help getting patched up, he’d ask.

It takes almost fifteen minutes before David finds anything promising, and by the time he’s pointed out the connections and given his obligatory words of caution, it’s almost 5 AM and Frank is moving to climb back out his window, keen to follow the lead while it’s fresh.

“Well if you gimme like, two hours to get in running shape, I’ll come with,” Wade says, trying to get to his feet and failing. There’s a few creepy nubs starting to form from the mess at the end of his right arm; the beginnings, David guesses, of a new hand. “For real, by the time we get where we’re going I’ll be rock steady. I’m a great meat shield. Come on, Frank, let’s be buddies, I’ll spring for tacos after!”

Frank gives him a hard look and says, “Next time, don’t get half your limbs chopped off ‘n we’ll talk.” Then he’s gone, the fire escape rattling and Wilson crosses his arms and openly pouts.

David feels a little weird, and strangely a little bad about the merc being stuck. The idea of leaving to go back to his shitty, lonely apartment is supremely unappealing, and feels kind of bad given that Wade would be stuck here alone. And anyway, David doesn’t want to leave anyone alone with the computing array. This one is more complete than any of the others he’s put together for Frank, and Deadpool seems like the kind of guy to break shit out of boredom.

Or spite.

“You want breakfast?” He asks impulsively, moving to the tiny kitchen. He kept the pantry stocked with non-perishables, never knowing when Frank would end up shacking up here. “I can do, uhhh…” he opens the cupboards and peers in, frowning. “I can do pancakes?”

That gets the merc to perk up shockingly fast. “Pancakes are almost as good as murdering violent apocalypse-nudging bastards. Syrup?”

“Yeah, I got syrup,” David says, pulling the ‘just add water’ mix out of the cupboard and heading to the sink to try eyeballing the appropriate amount of water. “I got instant coffee, too, if you want.”

“You are really the full package, huh,” the merc says from the couch, reclining again. When David looks at him, he grins openly. “Usually I only get breakfast from people I’m paying or am sleeping with. You expecting a check?”

Why that makes David start to blush, he doesn’t want to examine. It’s a joke, the implication is part of the joke. He looks back to the pancake mix, like he needs to watch the bottle as he shakes it to combine powder and water. “Cash or credit,” he says.

“And me without my wallet. Now there’s a good start to a porno. Micro and the One Armed Merc. Honestly, we gotta get you a better code name if we’re gonna make this work.”

#neoma writes #deadpool #punisher #frank castle #david lieberman #wade wilson #lieberpool #reveriecacophony

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digiauthorenergize · 5 years

Text

This is a stress rant post. There are a myriad of sister updates that I’m sure people don’t care about but it’s fun gossip so I’ll put them under the cut. The sister updates will be followed by and interspersed with a bunch of personal ramblings that I was going to put in the tags but instead I decided to put all the positive stuff in the tags because no one should need to dig through this negative post to find the positive stuff going on.

Do people trigger warning their rant posts outside of the tags? Is that a thing? I’m going to do it. TWs for my sister and her husband continuing to be garbage and Anxiety and like, old psudo-anorexia habits I had but idk it’s fine.

So she had her baby! yay! he’s cute and good and healthy and it’s been a few months (like 4?). We had a bonding moment a few hours before she gave birth, her husband (he’s still a huge ass more on that later) was asleep on the couch and I was sitting with her on her bed watching some absolutely garbage show and she said she was sorry. And it was genuine and soft and the stuff of hurt/comfort fics cause she was like ‘I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I shouldn’t have moved out like that. You were right and I’m sorry.’ and I just rubbed her head a little and said something that essentially meant ‘I’m still working through it, but we’re cool’. And I thought for real we were good! That like, we were going to start having a normal relationship again and stuff! And then everything got exposed.

First she had to get over her ppd (which is a very good thing but also allowed all the exposure that’s following all this) with required a lot of help and support from our mom who’s too good for her honestly. Literally our mom is too good for her. It’s so frustrating because on the one hand she needs the help and I get that, she’s always needed the help and all the attention and I get it. I do. but it doesn’t change any of the bs she’s been and continues to put our mom through. Mom’s paying for everything for the baby: diapers, formula (she’s not breast feeding for reasons that are further down and it makes me want to scream), clothing, all of it. She was coming over every day mom was off work for a while. She still comes over a lot, but it’s not just cause she likes the help. My mom is doing everything she can for my sister and called me last nigh saying she feels like a failure as a parent and it’s not fair because mom did a great job with the two of us honestly and just cause my sister can’t make a good decision to save her soul shouldn’t be a reflection on my mom. I’m functional (mom said she thinks I’m smarter than she is and that’s something my ego does not need to hear right now cause lemme tell you what I know I’m being judgy from this pedestal atop of which I sit). I look at all my options and make decisions carefully. I watch my funds like a hawk because I’m a grown ass adult and I don’t want to have to ask my parents for help (I’ve managed not to use any of my severance package from getting laid off in April <<did I ever mention that here? I got laid off in April so I stepped up at my second job so I wouldn’t be without healthcare and stuff. Also also internalizing that ‘I’m the good daughter’ mantra is NOT GOOD STOP IT.>> and a huge part of that is my fiance being able to handle the utilities so I can focus on my own bills (my part of the rent, groceries, phone/car/etc). Just cause one of us is a hot mess doesn’t mean she did anything wrong as a parent! She did a great job! Or we’d both be messes! But I super digress.

((Mom and I also had a talk about whether or not she should report the whole situation detailed below this line to CPS, and my opinion was ‘technically you should be talking to a professional about this not your daughter, but yes’ and she said she was going to talk to one of the social workers at work about it so))

My sister’s husband is using opioids. again. He hasn’t done any of the parole stuff he was supposed to do after he got caught with them the first time (re: my other long ass personal posts cause I don’t know how to keep rant shit and fandom shit away from each other) and he had 3 years to do them, so his FEDERAL DRUG POSSESSION CHARGE is going to go on his RECORD. **insert all of the frustrate at the stupidity of it all facepalms here like, i can’t even** Apparently they haven’t paid their rent in months and so they got an eviction notice over the long weekend, they’re like over 10k in credit card debt (and it’s all in her name I’m sure cause she had good credit before she married this dumbass), and APPARENTLY last winter they were so far behind on their electric bill after heating their apartment with the OVEN because their heater was broken (and they couldn’t tell their landlord because they were already behind on their rent) the company made them pay the bill in CASH. like. what the fuck??? We found all this out from his mom (who’s very nice but also very nosy) over the last holiday weekend where my mom took the baby for a few nights so that my sister could go see some fireworks (and you know, have some fun) but ended up keeping him for a week and his mom had had the baby for the week before the holiday. like! what! and apparently she’s been smoking weed again which is why she wasn’t breastfeeding which, good, but also like. Logically I get it: she’s depressed? she smokes weed. We have a family history of addictive tendencies but whatever I get it, it’s her thing and whatever. but also!!! what!!! the hell!!!

oof.

And then on top of all that, I’ve been trying to Logic my way through my anxiety like I usually do but it’s just...not working this time. My usual method is to take whatever the feeling I’m feeling is, identify it, acknowledge it, figure out exactly where the root of that feeling in this situation is and deal with that. But half of this is wading through my sisters bs and there are only so many times you can say “you’re feeling this way in part because you feel like you’re morally/intellectually superior to your sister in a way that’s not great (tm) (but the data supports this response and then it’s off on a tangent)” and “through past experiences you’ve chosen not to address your emotional response, instead focusing on finding solutions and therefore are under equipped to deal with all these feelings (tm) and as you continue to try to suppress them so you can put on a retail face and ‘function’, they keep coming out as barely controlled bursts of chaotic energy that you usually channel into writing projects but as the bursts grow more unpredictable you’re anxiety is popping up to remind you of the unhealthy coping mechanisms we developed last time this happened but those don’t actually work the way you thought they did”. And then my anxiety comes in and says “yeah they do” and god if only they did work the way I tricked myself into thinking they did cause I could go back to only drinking my calories and eating a real meal once a day if that (for like family dinner or whatever) and with the way my schedule currently is I could and it would be so easy to just starve my anxiety again for like 10-12lbs but that’s when you start being able to really see my ribs and that’s not great fam and I’m not going to go down that road again we’re riding it out this time damn it.

I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve made 2 new music playlists. One I use to calm down when my anxiety spikes, it’s got low-fi remixes and different grounding techniques and is super chill. The other is literally ‘ok, so you wanna have this anxiety attack? We’re Gonna Go??’ and it’s all stressful music. I’ve gotten to the point where I can crest and regroup in 12 minutes, and if I time the playlist correctly I can do the whole thing in the shower while I’m getting ready for the day so when I’m done I just have to get dressed and go. Which is also not great but whatever fucking works I guess?

Also big ass unrelated side note: I’ve come to the realization that I’m Ace, but not sex-repulsed, which was a thing I had to tell my fiance and he kinda gets it? But not really? Cause that’s really important to him and his sense of self-worth which is a whole other thing we’ll probably end up in couples therapy for, but we’re both willing to do that so.

As soon as everything else settles down we’ll get to that. Which is what I’ve been telling myself about my emotions for years. As soon as this settles down I’ll try therapy again. As soon as I have health insurance that will actually make it affordable. As soon as I get settled. As soon as I have time (and then I over book myself). As soon as as soon as as soon as.

I’m so annoyed with myself. But it’ll be fine. Sunshine comes after some rain and you need some rain to grow.

#ooc #I'm now the assistant manager at the retail spot I work #and I have an interview for a second job at a bank on Friday!#the bank job has a consistent schedule so my retail schedule will HAVE to settle into a pattern #and it'll have better healthcare so I can actually start seeing someone to work on all this baggage #and! I'm going to start shadowing an SLP at the hospital my mom works at #and start planning to apply to grad school!#I love SLP #I love language and I love helping other people learn to communicate it's so good #it's the purest thing ever #my mom is such a good mom too #it's real loving and appreciating my mom hours up in here #I started writing this at midnight and now it's 3am woops

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lostinaseaoffictionalbliss · 5 years

Text

Only In My Dreams Part 4

A/N: So funny story I came up with Richard’s name, but my BFF picked his face claim not realizing they had the same name. I sent her pics of two guys after going to google and searching for smug guys in suits

Summary: things get more and more confusing for Courtney when she wakes up. Figuring out what is going on with her isn't exactly easy and she's afraid to ask for help

Pairing: Sam x OC

Warnings: language, pig of a boss, violence?

Word Count: 1810

I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine.

I got a love, and I know that it's all mine.

Oh, oh whoa

Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me.

Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me.

No, oh whoa

Take me away (take me away)

A secret place (a secret place)

A sweet escape (a sweet escape)

Take me away (take me away)

Courtney slowly blinked her eyes open as she heard Natasha Bedingfield's voice coming through the speaker of her phone. Her 4:00 am alarm was going off as it always did. Sitting up in the bed she rubbed at her. It took her a moment to wake up, but once she did she looked around. Sam was gone, her arm wasn't injured, and she wasn't in a motel. With a groan she pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head atop them. Things seemed to be getting more and more confusing. Was this her life? Or was it being a hunter? She didn't know anymore. Both lives were in her memories and the attack by the rugaru seemed so real. The pain she had felt, the fear. It had been so tangible and she remembered every second of it. She remembered the worried look in Sam's eyes as he saved her.

But then if the hunt had been real why wasn't she hurt? Why was she waking up in her bed, in her house all alone? She couldn't figure it out. At this point she was beginning to think she was going crazy. It was the only explanation she could come up with. She probably needed to be checked out by a therapist or something. Get locked in a mental hospital and heavily medicated. Because who in their right mind had trouble separating reality from dreamland? The answer was normal people didn't have that problem.

With a heavy sigh, Courtney climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom. After doing her business she made coffee and a meager breakfast. She didn't have enough time to fix something big and healthy. A small bowl of oats and an apple were it. As soon as she finished breakfast it was time to shower and get dressed for another long day at the office. She really didn't want to go to work, but she needed her job. She didn't have enough money saved up to look at her boss and tell him just how she felt. Of course that was only part of the problem. Even if she had money saved up to get by until she found a new job, one she would enjoy, she had never been gutsy enough to actually quit. As much as she hated her job and her boss she couldn't bring herself to tell him off.

Walking into the office she walked over to her desk and say down in her uncomfortable chair. She really needed a new one as this one was falling apart. It hardly had any cushioning left and the position it made her sit in was highly uncomfortable. She had asked Richard many times for a new one, but he always said they didn't have the money. Yet he had a new espresso machine, his own water cooler, a mini fridge with champagne, a brand new custom made chair, and he always had a small buffet in his office for him and the other lawyers. He clearly didn't care about the people who planned his cases, handled development, and management. Hell he looked down on her so much he treated her like a secretary.

On top of doing all her duties as a paralegal Courtney was often made to fetch lunch for her boss and his partners, she had to get coffee, answer phone calls, and anything else he demanded of her. “He is so evil. I swear he has to be some kind of monster. I wish I could do to him what hunters do to all monsters,” she mumbled to herself. Moments ago Dick had walked in and dumped some money on her desk and told her to go buy a gift for his wife and his girlfriend. He had gave her a list of the things both women liked and even made a comment that if she played her cards right she could be his side chick. What a pig!

Courtney didn't care how famous Dick was in the lawyer world, didn't care how much money he made, what kind of car he drove, how beautiful his large house was; there was no way she would ever be with a guy like him. Even though he was a good looking guy, his awful attitude made him ugly. He looked down at everyone he considered less than him, which was almost everyone, he saw women as playthings. His wife was there to give him children and take care of the home while he went out and had fun with his girlfriend. And he had the audacity to ask her to be a part of that. She would sooner sell her soul and go to hell than become anything other than his paralegal.

Stomping into the mall to look for gifts for two women she didn't know, but felt sorry for, Courtney began to wish she was back with Sam and Dean. Despite being hurt, confused, and in pain, she had been cared for. Dean had taken time to get her favorite breakfast. Sam had treated her with love, kindness, and understanding. She could still remember how safe and warm she felt snuggled into his arms as she laid down to go to bed. At this point it didn't matter if she was going crazy and that world didn't really exist; she wanted to be back there. Being with the Winchesters was a lot better than being treated like a glorified secretary and hit on like her boss was doing her a favor by even noticing her.

The first place Courtney went to once she read over the list Dick had given her was the jewelry store. She figured buying the most expensive gift first would be easiest. That way she could buy the wife something without having to worry. After all her boss had said to splurge on the girlfriend. Apparently she was treated better than the woman who had stood by him for 15 years and had given him a son and daughter. But what business was that of Courtney's?

Looking into the display case Courtney let out a scoff. All of this was so expensive and sure it looked pretty, but what purpose did that gaudy necklace with all its diamonds and sapphires serve? It looked like it was heavy and if you fell in a puddle your ass was going to drown because of the weight. It was just too much.

What was worse was almost every piece of jewelry was like that. Big, gaudy, and more money than she would ever spend on jewelry.

Courtney was a simple girl. She liked small things. They were there and they could be seen without being super extravagant and looking like you could have put a down payment on a house. With a roll of her eyes she kept looking around, but eventually she just decided to buy that stupid diamond and sapphire necklace she had seen in the beginning. Dick was the type of guy who wanted to flaunt his money. The awful necklace around his young pretty girlfriend's neck was the perfect way to do it. She walked over to the only person she saw working and asked for his help.

“What could I possible help you with? You don't look like you could afford even our cheapest piece of jewelry in here?” Jean asked with an air of superiority. His nose was turned up and he was looking down at Courtney as if she was dirt on the floor.

Courtney narrowed her eyes and slammed her hands down on the display counter in front of her. “Listen here asshat. I can't afford anything in here. Even if I could I wouldn't want it. I like not having my neck or arms weighed down by large gaudy jewelry. However my boss Dick wants me to buy something for his girlfriend. So you're going to get that stupid necklace over there,” she pointed toward it, “wrap it up in a nice pretty box, take my boss’ money and let me get out of here so I can go back to being treated like scum by him. Got it?”

Jean's eyes widened and he nodded his head. It was clear that he wasn't used to dealing with people telling him off. And though Courtney wasn't exactly the biggest person in the world she had this terrifying look in her eyes that made the man want to listen to her. It was as if she was channeling her inner hunter. She was giving him the look she would a monster who had pissed her off. As quick as Jean could he scrambled over to the display case and got the necklace out. It was placed in a nice beautiful box and she was rung up.

Courtney gave Jean a curt smile like she hadn't bit his head off moments ago and left the store. She still couldn't believe how much she...Dick had just spent on a necklace. It was disgusting how he flaunted his wealth and power. She truly wished he would take a long walk off a short pier, fall off a cliff, or something else worthy of someone as awful as he was.

Looking down at the little slip of paper Dick had given her, Courtney tried to decide where she should go next. She could go to Bath & Body Works or she could go to Yankee candle. Either was an option. Hell she felt like she should go to both buy a bunch of stuff for Dick's wife so she could have a spa day at home. She deserved it being married to that ostentatious pig.

“Hey come back here!”

Courtney lifted her head to see a young man running away from the rent-a-cop the mall had employed. He looked to be carrying something heavy, but before she had a chance to make out what it was the boy crashed into her and she went falling back, slamming her head against the fountain behind her. Blood trickled down the side of her head, black dots swam in her vision. “Miss? Miss are you okay?” She heard someone ask, but it sounded far off like the person was muffled. Courtney tried to lift her head, but it only made her more dizzy. Without answering whomever it was that had been talking to her she slumped against the fountain and gave in to the calling to fall asleep.

Tags:

@mirandaaustin93 @thatfanficstuff @violentmommabear42 @c-s-stars @princessofthefandomrealm

#sam winchester #sam x oc #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester x ofc #supernatural #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfiction

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generaldevi · 5 years

Text

Prognosis

Chapter 2: Vacation Goal

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Law x Luffy

Characters: Roronoa Zoro, Nami, Monkey D. Luffy, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Usopp, Donquixote Doflamingo (mentioned), Donquixote Rocinante (mentioned, Dr. Kureha (mentioned), Sanji (mentioned)

Warnings: References to Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Dependency

My part for the @lawlu-events BigBang 2018/19

The story got illustrated by the awesome artist @novicecomics

“Woaaaah!” Usopp and Luffy shouted in unison. They finally arrived at the harbor, where the cruise-ship was located. Both of them had been eager to finally see the ship in person. Counting from the day the tickets were booked, Luffy and Usopp had searched for boats and ships online, compared multiple steamers and cruisers, getting more and more excited.

“That looks so cool!” Luffy exclaimed loudly. He had been energetic and excited the entire train-ride towards the harbor. Usopp and Luffy had chatted non-stop about the soon-to-be-starting trip, waking up Zorro multiple times and annoying the hell out of Nami, while doing so.

“And so big! I did not expect the ship to be soo big!”

The pictures they had looked at online had shown a big cruiser, but it was different in person. The size was somehow intimidating and at the same time, it felt majestic. Luffy felt joy. This was going to be an awesome adventure. He had dreamt about voyaging since he could remember. As little child he had talked with his friend Shanks about traveling. It was one of his very first memories. Just him and his friends. No school, no duties, freedom and adventure! Meeting all kinds of people, making new friends. Changing fates.

“Oi Nami! Did you know that boats could be so big?” Luffy had only known and seen the little ships using the rivers. Even at the harbor close to the city he had never seen a ship of that size. Bigger boats yes, container ships even. The cruiser in front of them played in a different league considering size though.

“Of course, it is big, or do you think, I want to spend two weeks in a little nut-shell of a boat?” She sighed heavily with a hint of amusement on her face. She had overcome her earlier irritation. Luffy being energetic was exhilarating to watch. Somehow, he always managed to put his good mood on others. Nami was not sure how he did it, in the end it did not even matter. Luffy was just Luffy…

“Hey, as if you could be annoyed by us!” Usopp grinned. He had finally stopped gawking at their home for the next weeks. “I cannot wait to see the deck! Online was written, that they have many pools and slides. They have gambling rooms and several bars!” He wanted to explore it all!

“Hach, the gambling rooms.” Nami smiled. Maybe she had more money after the trip, then before. Well, having less than nothing was hard to achieve. She could have never afforded the tickets on her own. Paying Luffy’s and her train tickets was already blowing her budget by far. If she wanted to bring home some souvenirs, she either had to earn some money by gambling and playing against other people or she had to steal something, again. Nami knew, that Bellemere, her adoptive mother, was against stealing or illegal activities in general, but sometimes Nami felt, like it was only fair.

Her mother was a hard-working woman. She had managed to raise two children (and Nami knew, that neither she, nor her sister Nojiko had been easy), while working fulltime. It had been stressful. Nami never had been able to get new things or go shopping for cool clothes like other girls her age. They never had spent a holiday in another country. Too expensive. It was the main reason, she felt honored and blessed being able to take this trip with her friends now. If her mother could not visit a different country, Nami at least wanted to bring her some nice gifts and Souvenirs! Maybe one day, she earned enough money to pay for a trip for her mother. It was something Nami was going to work hard for.

“I cannot wait to check out their bars. There are multiple on every deck!” Zorro’s voice was rough from sleepiness. He had just woken up a few minutes ago. Sleeping on the train had been difficult with Usopp’s and Luffy’s eager chatting and Nami scolding them. He had managed to get his nap though. “So even if you get lost, you will still find something to drink!” A big grin was showing on Luffy’s face, as he looked at Zorro. His friends’ sense of direction was not the best. Not by far. Zorro did not even try to argue. Pointless.

“Let us go! It will take some time to check in!” Nami held their tickets. She was, next to Usopp, probably the most responsible. It felt unreal to finally see the ship, be on the ship. They all had been eager for the trip, since they got the tickets. It had not been easy time to decide on a goal for their vacation…

Zorro had been fine with everything as long as it contained enough napping time, as well as enough booze. He was neither a picky eater, nor was he really interested in deciding about where to go or what to see. Spending time with his friends and enjoying his free time, before he had to go to work again, was all that mattered to him.

Nami on the other hand wanted to travel further away. Exploring the world, different cities and countries. Enjoying foreign cultures.

After the holiday she was going to start to study at the local university. Even though she could stay at home with her sister and her mother, saving on rent and money for food, she knew the times would be rough considering money. They did not have a lot of free money to spend. Especially with Nami not being able to work full-time anymore due to the university courses. She felt rather happy and blessed, that her mother Bellemere had saved up some money for her to go studying. Traveling had always been a dream of the redhead. Knowing very well, that this would be the only vacation she could afford in the next years, she had tried to stand her ground.

The person she had argued with most was Usopp. He had wanted to visit a tropical island at first, only to retract as soon as he heard about all the different kind of vaccinations he needed to go there. Weird diseases, possible parasite infections. Nope.

Next destination he had in his mind was one of the shooting places of a movie Luffy and he were fans from. Something with robots and ninjas and pirates. Nami had argued heavily against it. She did not want to visit an isolated island filled with only snow, ice and moose! Never! She would probably fall sick there.

Another possibility was the desert. Nami had always been fond of warm and sunny places. Visiting one of the famous desert cities of Alabasta, maybe they could have even meet Vivi again. A former exchange student in their school times. Seeing her again would be really nice. The tickets were too expensive though.

Luffy had been rather easy. As long as it was a fun place and his friends were there, he would have agreed on anything. Of course, he had his preferences. He would have liked the tropical island and jungle. The thoughts of cool bugs, insects in general, as well as cool predators excited him. A desert island would have been fun too in his opinion. He had talked about sand-surfing and trying out the exotic foods…

Their bickering went forth and back and at some point Nami was sure, that they would spend their entire free time arguing without actually going anywhere. The discussions about their vacation goal came to an abrupt end, when Luffy one day arrived with two tickets for a cruise trip.

“Grampa got these from some of the people he trained. They said, that some vacation was good for him, something about finally retiring. Gramps beat them up and gave the tickets to me” Luffy shrugged and looked at his friends. “Let us take the trip! There will be different islands!” Nami slowly raised one eyebrow, before taking a closer look at the tickets. Multiple islands? That sounded fancy. She did not question Garp beating up his poor Marine trainees.

As weird as Luffy was from time to time, it seemed to run in the family. Nami had only seen his grampa a few times. She could not exactly say, that these were pleasant memories. Garp was loud, brutal and loving at the same time. He ate as much as Luffy, had a tendency to fall asleep and Nami had never seen someone making Luffy run away. Usually the Strawhat fought everything and everyone, apparently Garp was on a different level. Nami was not sure if she should admire Garp for that or be scared of him.

“These are only two tickets though, we need four, don’t we?” Zorro asked, while Usopp was checking online if they could buy more tickets. “We just buy two more!” Luffy leaned over the shoulder of Usopp, looking at the Webpage. “Woah! This ship looks amazing! There are slides and loops! Swimming pools! All you can eat!!” From second to second he got more jittery and excited. He could not wait to be on the ship! There were so many things to explore and to do! He could do them with his friends. That was going to be awesome! Absolutely Amazing!

“That is.. expensive. How were those trainees able to pay for the two tickets?” Nami frowned. Even if they divided the price of the remaining two tickets, it was still more than she could afford. She bit her lip. Maybe the others should go without her?

“Don’t know. I think some other Marines helped with paying. They probably wanted to get rid of gramps too.” Luffy noticed Namis look. He hummed. “Oi, Usopp. Buy the two tickets! You can write in Grampas name! He is gonna pay for us! I will get his money card”

Nami frowned. His credit card? Was that even legal? She should not question Luffy. He was going to do, what he wanted anyway.

Their check-in did thankfully not take long. It was difficult for Luffy to remain still for a longer period of time. Waiting in a line, adventures and fun ahead. Nami was not sure, if Luffy had managed to stay in line for ten more minutes.

“Uff. Okay, should we check out our rooms?” The redhead sighed before walking towards one of the maps of the cruiser. It did not take long for her to memorize everything.

“Okay, here we are!” Nami smiled before giving each of them their key card to unlock the room. “Do.not.lose.it! Actually- I keep my card and Zorros. Usopp you take yours and Luffy's.” That way the cards would not get lost. Hopefully.

After exploring their rooms, they all went to the deck together. Soon the ship was going to hoist anchor. Usopp rested against the railing, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the soft breeze of wind on his skin. It felt wonderful. Zorro stood next to him, eyeing the sea. It was a relaxed atmosphere. Somewhat calm, even though there were a lot of people standing on the deck, wanting to see the start of their travel.

“Oi, Usopp!” Luffy looked around, observing the many people. “Don’t you think it is cool, that we are finally on our adventure!” He was curious about all the things they were going to do, the places they were going to explore and the new friends, they were going to make!

#lawlu #trafalgar d water law #monkey d luffy #OPFanfic #generaldevi #lawlu bigbang #Fanfiction: Prognosis #Chapter 2

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illbefinealonereads · 4 years

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Blog tour! I present to you some info and an excerpt from She’s Faking It by Kristin Rockaway.

She’s Faking It Kristin Rockaway FICTION/Romance/Contemporary Trade Paperback | Graydon House Books On Sale: 6/30/2020 978152580464 $15.99 $19.99 CAN

You can’t put a filter on reality. Bree Bozeman isn’t exactly pursuing the life of her dreams. Then again, she isn’t too sure what those dreams are. After dropping out of college, she’s living a pretty chill life in the surf community of Pacific Beach, San Diego…if “chill” means delivering food as a GrubGetter, and if it means “uneventful”. But when Bree starts a new Instagram account — @breebythesea — one of her posts gets a signal boost from none other than wildly popular self-help guru Demi DiPalma, owner of a lifestyle brand empire. Suddenly, Bree just might be a rising star in the world of Instagram influencing. Is this the direction her life has been lacking? It’s not a career choice she’d ever seriously considered, but maybe it’s a sign from the universe. After all, Demi’s the real deal… right? Everything is lining up for Bree: life goals, career, and even a blossoming romance with the chiseled guy next door, surf star Trey Cantu. But things are about to go sideways fast, and even the perfect filter’s not gonna fix it. Instagram might be free, but when your life looks flawless on camera, what’s the cost?

BUY LINKS:

Harlequin Amazon Apple Books Barnes & Noble Books-A-Million Google Play IndieBound Kobo

Kristin Rockaway is a native New Yorker with an insatiable case of wanderlust. After working in the IT industry for far too many years, she traded the city for the surf and chased her dreams out to Southern California, where she spends her days happily writing stories instead of software. When she's not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and son, and planning her next big vacation.

SOCIAL LINKS:

http://kristinrockaway.com/ Facebook: /KristinRockaway Twitter: @KristinRockaway Instagram: @KristinRockway

Excerpt

From Chapter Two

“Don’t these books make your purse really heavy? There’s gotta be some app where you can store all this information.”

“Studies show you’re more likely to remember things you’ve written by hand, with physical pen and paper.” She reached across my lap and opened the glove compartment, removing a notebook with an antiqued photograph of a vintage luxury car printed on the cover. “For example, this is my auto maintenance log. Maybe if you’d kept one of these, like I told you to, we wouldn’t be in this predicament right now.”

I loved Natasha, I really did. She was responsible and generous, and without her I’d likely be far worse off than I already was, which was a horrifying thought to consider. But at times like this, I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake the shit out of her.

“A maintenance log wouldn’t have helped me.”

“Yes, it would have. Organization is about more than decluttering your home. It’s about decluttering your mind. Making lists, keeping records—these are all ways to help you get your life in order. If you’d had a maintenance log, this problem wouldn’t have caught you off guard in the middle of your delivery shift. You’d have seen it coming, and—”

“I saw it coming.”

“What?”

“This didn’t catch me off guard. The check engine light came on two weeks ago.” Or maybe it was three.

“Then why didn’t you take it to the mechanic?” She blinked, genuinely confused. Everything was so cut-and dried with her. When a car needed to be serviced, of course you called the mechanic.

That is, if you could afford to pay the repair bill.

Fortunately, she put two and two together without making me say it out loud. “Oh,” she murmured, then bit her lip. I could almost hear the squeak and clank of wheels turning in her head as she tried to piece together the solution to this problem. No doubt it included me setting up a journal or logbook of some sort, though we both knew that would be pointless. The last time she’d tried to set me up with a weekly budget planner, I gave up on day two, when I realized I could GrubGetter around the clock for the rest of my life and still never make enough money to get current on the payments for my student loans. You know, for that degree I’d never finished.

But Natasha was a determined problem solver. It said so in her business bio: “Natasha DeAngelis, Certified Professional Organizer®, is a determined problem solver with a passion for sorting, purging, arranging, and containerizing.” My life was a perpetual mess, and though she couldn’t seem to be able to clean it up, that didn’t stop her from trying. Over and over and over again.

“I’ll pay for the repairs,” she said.

“No.” I shook my head, fending off the very big part of me that wanted to say yes. “I can’t take any money from you.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Business is booming. I’ve got so much work right now that I’ve actually had to turn clients away. And ever since Al introduced that new accelerated orthodontic treatment, his office has been raking it in. We can afford to help you.”

“I know.” Obviously, my sister and her family weren’t hurting for cash. Aside from her wildly successful organizing business, her husband, Al, ran his own orthodontics practice. They owned a four-bedroom house, leased luxury cars, and took triannual vacations to warm, sunny places like Maui and Tulum. They had a smart fridge in their kitchen that was undoubtedly worth more than my nonfunctioning car.

But my sister wasn’t a safety net, and I needed to stop treating her like one. She’d already done so much for me. More than any big sister should ever have to do.

“I just can’t,” I said.

“Well, do you really have any other choice?” There was an edge to Natasha’s voice now. “If you don’t have a car, how are you going to work?”

“I’ll figure something out.” The words didn’t sound very convincing, even to my own ears. For the past four years, all I’d done was deliver food. I had no other marketable skills, no references, no degree.

I was a massive failure.

Tears pooled in my eyes. Natasha sighed again.

“Look,” she said, “maybe it’s time to admit you need to come up with a solid plan for your life. You’ve been in a downward spiral ever since Rob left.”

She had a point. I’d never been particularly stable, but things got a whole lot worse seven months earlier, when my live-in ex-boyfriend, Rob, had abruptly announced he was ending our three-year relationship, quitting his job, and embarking on an immersive ayahuasca retreat in the depths of the Peruvian Amazon.

“I’ve lost my way,” he’d said, his eyes bloodshot from too many hits on his vape pen. “The Divine Mother Shakti at the Temple of Eternal Light can help me find myself again.”

“What?” I’d been incredulous. “Where is this coming from?”

He’d unearthed a book from beneath a pile of dirty clothes on our bed and handed it to me—Psychedelic Healers: An Exploratory Journey of the Soul, by Shakti Rebecca Rubinstein.

“What is this?”

“It’s the book that changed my life,” he’d said. “I’m ready for deep growth. New energy.”

Then he’d moved his belongings to a storage unit off the side of the I-8, and left me to pay the full cost of our monthly rent and utilities on my paltry GrubGetter income.

I told myself this situation was only temporary, that Rob would return as soon as he realized that hallucinating in the rainforest wasn’t going to lead him to some higher consciousness. But I hadn��t heard from him since he took off on that direct flight from LAX to Lima. At this point, it was probably safe to assume he was never coming back.

Which was probably for the best. It’s not exactly like Rob was Prince Charming or anything. But being with him was better than being alone. At least I’d had someone to split the bills with.

“Honestly,” she continued, “I can’t stand to see you so miserable anymore. Happiness is a choice, Bree. Choose happy.”

Of all Natasha’s pithy sayings, “Choose happy” was the one I hated most. It was printed on the back of her business cards in faux brush lettering, silently accusing each potential client of being complicit in their own misery. If they paid her to clean out their closets, though, they could apparently experience unparalleled joy.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

She scowled. “It is not.”

“It is, actually. Shitty things happen all the time and we have no choice in the matter. I didn’t choose to be too broke to fix my car. I work really hard, but this job doesn’t pay well. And I didn’t choose for Rob to abandon me to go find himself in the Amazon, either. He made that choice for us.”

I almost mentioned the shittiest thing that had ever happened to Natasha or to me, a thing neither of us had chosen. But I stopped myself before the words rolled off my lips. This evening was bad enough without rehashing the details of our mother’s death.

“Sometimes things happen to us that are beyond our control,” Natasha said, her voice infuriatingly calm. “But we can control how we react to it. Focus on what you can control. And it does no good to dwell on the past, either. Don’t look back, Bree—”

“Because that’s not where you’re going. Yes, I know. You’ve said that before.” About a thousand times.

She took a deep breath, most likely to prepare for a lengthy lecture on why it’s important to stay positive and productive in the face of adversity, but then a large tow truck lumbered onto the cul-de-sac and she got out of the car to flag him down.

Grateful for the interruption, I ditched the casserole on her dashboard and walked over to where the driver had double-parked alongside my car.

“What’s the problem?” he asked, hopping down from the cab.

“It won’t start,” I said, to which Natasha quickly followed up with, “The check engine light came on several weeks ago, but the car has not been serviced yet.”

He grunted and popped the hood, one thick filthy hand stroking his braided beard as he surveyed the engine. Another grunt, then he asked for the keys and tried to start it, only to hear the same sad click and whine as before.

“It’s not the battery.” He leaned his head out of the open door. “When was the last time you changed your timing belt?”

“Uh… I don’t know.”

Natasha shook her head and mouthed, Maintenance log! in my direction but I pretended not to see.

The driver got out and slammed the hood shut. “Well, this thing is hosed.”

“Hosed?” My heart thrummed in my chest. “What does that mean? It can’t be fixed?”

He shrugged, clearly indifferent to my crisis-in-progress. “Can’t say for sure. Your mechanic can take a closer look and let you know. Where do you want me to tow it?”

I pulled out my phone to look up the address of the mechanic near my apartment down in Pacific Beach. But Natasha answered before I could google it up.

“Just take it to Encinitas Auto Repair,” she said. “It’s on Second and F.”

“You got it,” he said, then retreated to his truck to fiddle with some chains.

Natasha avoided my gaze. Instead, she focused on calling a guy named Jerry, who presumably worked at this repair shop, and told him to expect “a really old Civic that’s in rough shape,” making sure to specify, “It’s not mine, it’s my sister’s.”

I knew she was going to pay for the repairs. It made me feel icky, taking yet another handout from my big sister. But ultimately, she was right. What other choice did I have?

The two of us stayed quiet while the driver finished hooking up my car. After he’d towed it away down the cul-desac and out of sight, Natasha turned to me. “Do you want to come over? Izzy’s got piano lessons in fifteen minutes, you can hear how good she is now.”

Even though I did miss my niece, there was nothing I wanted to do more than go home, tear off these smelly clothes, and cry in solitude. “I’ll take a rain check. Thanks again for coming to get me.”

“Of course.” She started poking at her phone screen. A moment later, she said, “Your Lyft will be here in four minutes. His name is Neil. He drives a black Sentra.” A quick kiss on my cheek and she was hustling back to her SUV.

As I watched Natasha drive away, I wished—not for the first time—that I could be more like her: competent, organized, confident enough in my choices to believe I could choose to be happy. Sometimes I felt like she had twenty years on me, instead of only six. So maybe instead of complaining, I should’ve started taking her advice.

#she's faking it #kristin rockaway #blog tour #excerpt

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yournewapartment · 7 years

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So I'm a Canadian who will be moving to Scotland later this month for university and I'm wondering: Do you have any tips for getting settled in a new country? This will be the first time I'm buying my own groceries and not using student loans so budgeting advice is also welcome.

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for like at least a month... I’m so sorry! Some posts take more time to write then others. I actually have about four asks that are all essentially this same question, so I’m going to just combine them all into one post.

As for budgeting... here’s my two cents, in terms of Minimum Wage.

Budgeting on Minimum Wage

Overview

The average minimum wage in the US is $7.25/hr. Even working full time at 40 hours a week, that’s only a profit of $290 before taxes. This is not a fair living wage! You are worth way more than this amount! I strongly encourage you to start looking for another job that pays better, look for something around the $10-$15 range.

While $7.25 is atrocious, thousands of people around the world support families on much less. If they can do it while supporting children, so can you! To live off a minimum wage budget you need to declare yourself independent. If your parents are still claiming you as a dependent YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO DO THIS. I also recommend that you have the highest amount possible taken out of your taxes so that you get money back from your state at the end of the year, instead of being in debt to them.

What I’ve done is come up with a budgeting plan based off some made up factors and my own personal experience.

Housing

1. City life. Forget about the city! Apartments located in cities can be three times as expensive as apartments in small towns or villages. On top of the extra expense, they’re much smaller and have less amenities included. I’d much rather live in a one bedroom apartment with a dishwasher and a conveniently located Laundromat, than a literal closet with no windows on a fifth floor walkup. Look for apartments twenty minutes to a half hour outside of your closest city. Now you have the close conveniences of a city, with none of those pesky city prices that your budget can’t handle.

2. College towns. Shop around and look at apartments by local colleges. Large colleges with have apartment complexes within walking distance of the school grounds. Landlords know that college students have less money (you might even be a college student yourself) and adjust their prices accordingly. Even apartments next to ivy league schools are priced this way, so don’t be discouraged by the institution’s “prestige”.

3. Locale. Your safety is more important than your bank account. It doesn’t matter if you live in Section 8 housing or in an affluent suburb. Some apartment complexes and neighborhoods are just safer than others. I live in a heavily populated and upper middle class suburb, and the first year I moved in, a drunk woman tried to throw a beer bottle at my car. Thankfully this is the only time this happened to me, but it made me feel unsafe in my environment. Before signing a lease, walk or drive around your prospective home’s neighborhood at night. Take in the atmosphere, and make sure it’s one where you could comfortably run to the local supermarket at 10:30pm and pick up toilet paper.

4. Roommates. Living on minimum wage requires that you find one or two roommates to help split the rent. The more the better! Get together with your more responsible friends, so at least you’re living with people whose company you enjoy. There are lots of “roommate wanted” forums and message boards for you to browse on the internet, but always bring a responsible adult with you before meeting a stranger. Please. Bring your mom if you have too.

Food

1. Low-spoon food. I created this post a few months ago which offers lots of suggestions about cooking and shopping on a budget.

2. Online recipes. Here are some of my favorite online Tumblr cookbook resources.

- College Student Cookbook. Click here.

- Meals On The Go. Click here. (Not a cookbook, but super helpful)

- Broke College Kid Masterpost. Click here.

- Cooking on A Bootstrap. Click here.

- Good and Cheap. Click here.

- Budget Bytes. Click here.

3. I also regularly update my cooking on a budget tag.

Misc Expenses

1. Gas. Shop around and find the cheapest gas in your area. Avoid gas stations next to colleges, highways, and in touristy areas. Look into getting as gas rewards card from your favorite supermarket. I get 10 cents off a gallon with Stop & Shop every time I do a big shop.

2. Dollar store. Get to know your local dollar and bargain stores. You can buy everything from pots and pans to bed sheets there. These stores often sell bulk ramen for $1 and large cans of crushed tomatoes for 75 cents. That’s enough food for you to live off of for several days. When shopping, I make three grocery store stops to ensure that I spend the least amount possible on my pantry needs. I go Dollar Store, Stop and Shop, and then to my local organic grocery store. I’m going to make a list of things that I buy at Dollar Stores and things that I don’t buy at Dollar Stores soon!

3. Cable. We are living in the digital age- you don’t need cable television. Use Netflix or Hulu or whatever. It will save you tons of $$.

4. Internet. As far as internet speed goes, if you’re living with roommates you will probably need a higher speed. Living by yourself, choose a lower one. Most internet companies offer large discounts to new subscribers. These typically only last a year, but will save you serious money. Make sure to take note of when this discount expires, and contact the company before it does. If you don’t, they’ll begin charging you the full amount without notice.

5. Verizon. I just want to take a moment to talk about how much I love Verizon because they have literally saved me so much money in the three years I’ve been with them. After you sign a contract with a new internet company, they charge you a bunch of ridiculous fees like “activation fees” and “installation fees”. I called Verizon and was like “I’m a poor college student, I can’t afford this” and they were like “don’t worry, we’ll waive the fee”. I signed a two year contract with them that saved me $80 on a high-speed internet bill per month (my price being only 50.99 a month). After the contract expired I call them and they put me on a month to month, keeping the price absolutely the same. TLDR- get Verizon if you can.

6. Utility. Get on a monthly budget with whatever utility company services your new apartment. Although it may seem like the cheaper option, paying the actual amount of electricity you spend per month is the more expensive. It’s also unpredictable, and a minimum wage budget won’t allow for it. See this for more info.

7. Amazon. I buy a lot of my beauty, cleaning, and cat products online. Amazon offers Prime shipping free for a year with a student email address, and then offers it at a greatly reduced price after the year. If you are a student, snap up that free deal ASAP. If it’s in your budget, I’d greatly recommend investing in Amazon Prime.

8. Saving money. It’s so important to attempt to break way from the “paycheck to paycheck” vicious cycle. Living this way does not allow for emergency expense money, and trust me, sometime soon you will need emergency expense money. Your cat might get sick or your car may die, whatever it is, it’s always smart to have at least $500 squirreled away. I’m gonna level with you, things have been tight for my budget and I haven’t been able to save anything for the past three months. But this month I will!

Example Budgets

Full Time

Working with the $7.25/hr and 40hr/week model, here’s an example budget for living on minimum wage. That’s $1,160 a month without taxes.

Housing: Let’s say you’re sharing an apartment with two close friends, the rent being $1,500 without any amenities. That rent split three ways is $500 each.

Gas I commute twenty minutes every day, and I drop about $20-$25 a week on gas. That’s $100 on gas a month.

Food: I do one big shopping a month with my boyfriend. We drop around $180 and that’s including toiletries and soap and stuff. So maybe you’ll spend about $100 a month on all your shopping needs.

Cable/internet: Hopefully you took my advice and skipped cable. Let’s say you’re paying around $50 per month for internet. Split three ways that’s $17 each.

Laundry: Hopefully you’re not like me and are only spending around $20 on laundry per month.

Random expenses: Because there always are some. Let’s just tack on another $100.

With everything added up, you still have around $290 left before taxes! That money can go into a savings account, and after several months, you’ll have that $500 worth of emergency money saved.

Part Time

Working with the $7.25/hr and 25hr/week model, here’s an example budget for living on minimum wage. That’s $725 without taxes.

Housing: In this case, you need to look for apartments in the $800-900 range. In my area, one bedroom apartments go for around $1000, so you may need to get creative with your roommate (I don’t think you could have more than one roommate in this situation). Buy dividers to split the bedroom or studio in half! Let’s say your rent is $850 with nothing included, that’s $425 each.

Gas You’re still looking at a large gas bill per month, so it may be more inexpensive to ride a bike or use public transportation. Let’s say you use public transportation, and spend around $50 a month on that. Or maybe you and your roommate can split gas expenses and share a car?

Food: Pinch those pennies! Use some of those budget cookbooks I linked above to help you cook healthy and delicious meals for under $4 each. See if you can only spend $80 a month on groceries.

Cable/internet: Hopefully you took my advice and skipped cable. Let’s say you’re paying around $50 per month for internet. Split two ways is $25 each.

Laundry: Hopefully you’re not like me and are only spending around $20 on laundry per month.

Random expenses: Because there always are some. Let’s just tack on another $100.

That leaves you $25 to put in your bank account, if that. This is a paycheck to paycheck situation, and you will probably need to get another source of income to feel secure. But you can still do it!

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

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Ali & Carly

Ali: Happy New Year, shortcake! Ali: You still alive? Carly: Same to you, baby Carly: Have fun? Carly: im hanging on you kno Carly: got my guitar out & everything Ali: I don't even know how to put it into words Ali: Magical Ali: awh, you using your death rattle as percussion Ali: about that Carly: yea? Carly: i wish id been there Carly: i miss you Carly: & your magic Ali: baby 😔 you poor thing Ali: of all the times to get mono Ali: i'll bring you chicken soup when i've recovered enough to go in the kitchen without retching Carly: that good of a night tho Carly: love it Carly: i dont want you to get sick baby Ali: plague parcel Ali: keep your bodily fluids where I can see 'em 😉 Ali: it really was Ali: Cavante was there Carly: w his bf or latest gf? Ali: Neither! 😍 Ali: Well, Drew might've been about but busiest night of the year for him like so couldn't be up in our business Carly: didnt text me the prick Carly: i kno im sick but im still hot Carly: how much business did you get up to w your boy tho? Carly: you his now or Ali: how rude, coulda offered to medicate you Ali: make a killing, think on lad Ali: I dunno, I don't know what it was Ali: but I'll be sad and surprised if it was just last night, like Carly: & he kno he benefits whenever im this bored Carly: your loss lad Carly: baby dont be sad Carly: hes wanted you for ages theres no stopping him now Ali: He's a fool, straight up Ali: [Sends their tattoo pic] Ali: Gotta be some sort of promises, right? Carly: wtf Carly: thats a claim Carly: divorce is on the cards for us cos hes trying to marry you himself Ali: Never Ali: wifey 4 life Ali: not just 'cos we can't afford the fees Carly: but wheres my tat bitch? Carly: I been putting in the work Carly: hes done 1 night shift Ali: you want one? Ali: only gotta ask boo Carly: make him beg did you Carly: nah Carly: too little too late girl Ali: aw, don't be like that Ali: I didn't know you wanted to get inked Carly: im no type of way idk Carly: write him on you if you want its no big Ali: Yeah but its clearly more of a deal than I thought it'd be Ali: talk to me, I wanna know what you really think Carly: do you have my black shoes Carly: i gotta find them Ali: Carls Carly: what Carly: thats what im thinking Carly: im bored of being here Carly: i need to go out Ali: are you well enough, you were at death's door like, yesterday Carly: idc Carly: this is no fun Ali: no but neither will be collapsing as soon as you have one drink, like Carly: i wont ask you to pick me back up its alright Ali: Don't Ali: Lemme come over, we can have fun there Ali: you don't need to do this Carly: i need to get out of this fucking caravan Carly: so nah Ali: okay Ali: fresh air isn't the worst idea Ali: where you gonna go Carly: idk idc Carly: someone will be about Carly: in their garden throwing up or pissing out last night if nothing else Ali: Can I come? Carly: why Ali: well, 'cos I wanna see you Ali: also make sure you don't die in a ditch, like Carly: i kno my way around Carly: how far you think im gonna get like Ali: I know Ali: for my own sake then? lemme be selfish Carly: he not let you do what you wanted then? Carly: aw Carly: didnt think cavante would be like that Ali: I don't think you wanna know really Carly: i do kno Carly: magical yea Ali: You're mad? Carly: nah Ali: We're good? Carly: i said i wasn't mad not that idc Ali: What can I do to make it up to you? Ali: I didn't go out with that intention but I also didn't know that it would do this Carly: who goes out w intentions Carly: did you kno he was gonna be there? Ali: Nah Ali: I didn't know where I'd end up, even Carly: k Carly: least you hooked w someone who would treat you nice Ali: You know I like him Ali: but that doesn't negate how I feel about you Carly: k but you like him so much if he wanted to be w you id be gone Carly: loyal vibes we kno Ali: I don't know, that's the truth Ali: not gone, ever Ali: but it might be different, yeah Carly: youd friendzone me i kno Carly: ive done it Ali: is that such a bad thing Carly: theres no need for me to answer that Carly: the fact you asked it shows what you think Ali: i'm just saying, friendship is underrated Ali: and i'm not thinking or saying anything for definite Ali: idk, my head is fucked Carly: you arent until he does Carly: done that too like Ali: that ain't it Carly: im not stupid ali Ali: i know you ain't Ali: but we've already talked so i'm not waiting on no one but you Carly: cuz he said no Carly: is that how it is Ali: no Ali: he said to hit him up when i know what i'm doing Ali: do you actually think i would do that Ali: i'm just trying to work out what we're doing Carly: idk Carly: i just kno how much you like him Ali: yeah Ali: but i like you too Carly: & i like you too Carly: but he doesnt want me babe Ali: No Ali: jesus Carly: unfuck your head Carly: use the stash or anything else you need Ali: i know Ali: i know i need to Ali: i'm sorry, yeah? Ali: i'm gonna sort this Carly: dont be sorry Carly: or sad Ali: how can i not be Ali: i don't want to hurt you, ever Carly: its done babe Carly: forget it Ali: nah Ali: its fucked up Ali: i am Carly: nah youre not Carly: only if you didnt care Carly: but you do Carly: & youve been so good to me Carly: you are being now Ali: i'm not going to stop Ali: if you still want me to Ali: i love you no matter what, okay? Carly: i kno Carly: i love you too Ali: i'm gonna sort this, i swear Ali: can i drop off some chicken soup and stuff at least Ali: i won't come in if you don't want Carly: i want you to Carly: but i meant what i said i dont want you to get sick Ali: i'll be careful Ali: i wanna take care of you Carly: but i dont wanna be careful me or you Carly: i want you to kno how much i love you Carly: i dont like that he gets to be w you that way & i dont Ali: I know baby Ali: for the record, I don't care if I get sick but Ali: I don't want you to feel like you've got something to prove Carly: but i do Carly: you like us both Carly: i want you to want me more than him Ali: Babe, its not that simple Ali: Wish it was, like Carly: what can i do then Carly: tell me how to make it simple Ali: If I find out Ali: I'll let you know Ali: its me though Ali: no self-pity bullshit or cliche about it Ali: just facts Carly: do you love him Ali: I mean Ali: too soon to say, yeah? Carly: yeah or nah Carly: i kno you kno Ali: yeah Carly: k Ali: but i love you too Carly: i get bi means two Carly: but i dont think it works like that Ali: I know Carly: yea dont come over if itll fuck your head up more Ali: idc Ali: only if it'll fuck up yours Carly: i do Carly: i care about you Ali: you're gonna make me cry Carly: sorry Carly: we should get out of our heads Carly: not gonna unfuck them like Carly: but will help Ali: 'til we have to deal with it in the morning Ali: january 1st, yeah, good a day as any to attempt to sort our shit Carly: yea Ali: That said Ali: wish you were better so we could get outta here Carly: me too Carly: where do you wanna go? Carly: i can make it im strong Ali: let me spirit you away for some sea air Ali: that's how they kicked it if you were dying back in the day Carly: we could get your ex to drive us Carly: 3s a party Carly: dont mind making her sick since she aint about me Ali: 🙄 sure, lets rent a mini-bus and make it a reunion of all the former flames Ali: I've got money for the actual Ali: wanna go down Malahide? Carly: serious? Ali: why not Ali: i don't reckon you'll actually drop down, like Ali: and gotta keep making good on my promise to take you away from here Ali: even if its only half an hour down the road Carly: lets go Carly: ill leave my ma a note not that shes bothered where i go any other time Ali: buy her a stick of rock Ali: if she's really arsey she knows where to stick it Carly: ha Carly: idc what she thinks Carly: ill be sick wherever i am Ali: May as well have a view that ain't the inside of your room Carly: & have fun w my baby while i still can Ali: no while about it Ali: we're always gonna have fun Carly: but hes gonna move into my time & fun Ali: hmm Ali: maybe a smidge, not going to make promises I can't keep Ali: but not all of it, THAT I promise Ali: I'm always going to have time for you, Carls Carly: promise Ali: fucking promise Ali: you're still my girl Carly: & youre mine Ali: hell yeah Ali: on some forever shit you and me Carly: new year but same us Ali: you know it Ali: ain't a resolution to lose you, nah Carly: you gonna ink me then Ali: can Ali: if you want to Ali: ideas? Carly: idc Carly: do what you want Carly: i trust you Ali: okay Ali: challenge accepted Carly: i kno youre up to it

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the-countessa · 7 years

Text

Embrace the suck...it's gonna be a long ass night

It is not that I no longer care, because I do, and always will; not matter how angry, how hurt, how used up I feel, and without rhyme or reason, I always shall care. I'm always going to keep an eye on his facebook to make sure he is still alive and ok. I'm never going to stop wishing things were different or hoping like hell they're gonna change, or get something back from before. And I mean wish, and hope and hell, even prey (my version anyway) But I simply cannot have the person that he has become in my life. Too much hurt; too many times times over the last four and a half years of being treated (as he is fond of saying) like a cunt. Cheated on when we were dating, lied to repeatedly, and my feelings being railroaded. Then when I sat there, angry and upset, demanding to be treated with respect and consideration; well, with each time, it's become harder and harder for him to see. And treating my pain as insignificate and only from some shallow places of jealousy. And yes, even I can see the obserdity of it, to end it all over, as he sees it, pizza. But after so long of looking after him, since the very beginning back in Gravesend when we first hung out and he was unemployed, buying him food, trying to keep him going as best as I could. All I have ever done really. After doing that and being treated so badly and used up, when I needed him to simply return the damn favour when I had no food and no money, I get thrown out on my arse, for a date? And the ironic thing is, the bit he doesn't know, I actually like the idea of this one... But after so long giving and giving and giving; after him banging on about gratitue and friendship and giving back, he simply failed. Failed again. Failed me. And then to have the line "You're not my enemy, you'll just be another 'friend' that's decided to not talk to me anymore." as though I haven't tried time and time again, as though nothing I have ever done made any sort of matter; not Christmas (not good enough), not his birthday (too depressed), not paying for food, gym clothes, warhammer boards, taxis to and from a&e, not all the time I cooked dinner, did the laundry, made the bed, bought the linin and kitchen crap, not the running to the chemist when he was sick...not the sex, dating, friendship. None of it. And no, that doesn't mean I've forgotten what he did for me...but it doesn't balance the books. He let me move in with him, rent free, to get me away from my dad who was close to driving me to suicide; but that he had someone to pay for food whilst he wasn't working, pay the rent when he couldn't manage it (once? twice?). And arrangment of mutual conveniance that saved him just as much as it did me. Yeah, he paid out for some great nights out, but so did I...but it hurt more to pay for tickets to go up to London and watch him butterfly his arse around his friends, only to return for a drink. Hell, I paid for his birthday and for him to be at my own. The books just no longer balance, and there is only so much one can put up with until you wonder "why am I here? How can this be friendship when I feel like I am trying to constantly please you, only to have it go unnoticed, unmentioned?' I was always the first to fight his corner and the last out the ring, no matter what. But more and more he says and does things that leave me speechless and sick. A mutual friend lost the love of her life a couple of weeks before christmas; he'd have rather spent his money on a bottle of booze than support her. Even heard tell that she offered to pay for him to go to the memorial, just because she wanted him there...he couldn't muster up enough friendship to support someone who has truely lost something vital. December again, I spent a small fortune on a long month doing everything I could to make it good for him, almost the way you would for a child. And after forking out over £60 for his birthday, paying for him to come out for mine...couldn't even manage a 99p birthday card. What did he say to me the day before Christmad Eve, something about him rather spending his money making him happy. Not a thought to giving back. Halloween; I get sexually assulted, and what frightened me most was him pining me to the bed with his hands around my throat screaming at me. And promptly throwing me out. Ignored me for three days. Told me how his hands around my throat was my fault. The wife beater excuse, the line of domestic abusers, that it was asked for. And that's now ironically been capped off with him telling me to report the abusive bastard who lives next door. And that is who he is. A lying, cheating, violent, angry, bitter man, so self obsessed that if he were to read this, would be more concerned about him image than that he has hurt and terrified the person who has done more good things for him than most. So self-serving, he's rather date than help a friend who sucked up their pride and fear and asked for just a little help. So hypocritial, he bangs on about how pro-feminist he is, how much he understands mental health because he has problems too, that he oh so easily paints me as the Crazy ex-GIRLfriend, throws my depression in my face, hell, even the other day he was pulling at the thread of someones BPD. So obssesed with this idea he has of happiness, that he doesn't spair a thought for those he climbs over to get to it. So weighed down with his past, so stuck there, that any female worth a damn couldn't get through; more in love with what has gone that he barely appreciates what he has. Ok, so exactly true; he has been more than happy to praise everyone else who has helped him (joint incommers or people who have had a sudden windfall) just not me. The one who the second she can't afford to keep him is told "If someone offers to pick me up n feed me for free then sorry but I'm gonna take it." turning his date into little more than a meal ticket and showing me that I am no longer of any use. What was the point of me? That isn't even a drop in the ocean of it all; so much over the last four and a half years. And memories that should be good are now completely tainted. I managed 28 years on this earth without one real regret, until now. And that is I regret having ever met him. And that is heart crushing. That is what drives me into a bottle and into a packet of little blue pills. For my shame. So, how can I still care for someone, after all that? Maybe everyone, his people and mine, are right, Im just abused and frightened and simply stockholm Syndrome. Or maybe I am right, maybe underneath it all, the fear and anger and confusion, there is a good soul. Or maybe my mother is right and he is suffering from some serious mental health issue. I just don't know anymore. But still, how in the hell can I still find it in me to give a damn and wish we could go back? It's fucked up. I don't know if he'll read this. I hope he does. I really hope he does. I know he'll be fuming, see it as an attack or bitchfest. But honestly, I just want, and he needs to see that he cannot go on this way. That this, who he has become and what he is doing is not good or right, for the best, or anyone elses fault but his own. And fix it! No one else can. I am not just some 'friend', I was your best friend who would have done anything to keep you from drowning. I did not decide to not talk to you, I am just simply unable to talk without wanting to scream and shout and cry and hope like hell something finally gets through that thick skull of yours! And no, I am not the only one. Hell, my family hates him now; even my own mother, who opened her home to him after he cheated on me with Jasz because I asked her to, who stood by me during so many arguments and rows before Christmas to ensure that he wasn't alone wants to clobber him (though, as I keep telling her, she is disabled and probably would not get very far). And as for his friends? How many of them told me to run, call him a snake, have told me how they are done with his melodrama and bullshit...and not just the ones who show two faces, but the genuine good ones have basically decided that they are done. I'm sure that will send him into a rage, but I should be clear that no, I haven't been slagging him off to everyone and their mother just to get that response because I have been begging everyone to tell me I am wrong. And trying like hell to make sure these people stay close enough in his life to keep an eye on him. I do not want him to loose his people because (so long as he doesn't continue to alienate them) he will need them. It hurt to see him advertise a gig for a band that he knows I love, that he promised to take me to, because he cut me out. It hurts to read him alter history just enough that I loose my place it in. It all hurts and I get angry and yes I lash out. Because it is unfair and crule. But I'll get over that all in time...a very, very, very long ass time. What I shall not get over is his self-distruction. Ok, maybe we no longer fit in one anothers life; but to watch hin waste his life, ignore his health, and basically act more like a child than the almost 40 year old adult is driving me nuts. I want to shake him. No, I want to tie him to a chair whilst I beat him with a basebalk bat yelling "I love you but sort you fucking shit!" Own your mistakes. Admit to them. See yourself for what you really are, and fucking well fix them! Take a long hard look at your life, stop blaming others and walking around with a chip on your shoulder like the Universe owes you something and get the hell over it. And take a long hard look at everything you have done to me over the last four and a half years, be honest with yourself about your actions, your behaviour; from the editing of a truth to "save" my feelings, to the outright lies, cheating, using my body like I was a whore (a post for another time, but fucking someone without eye contact, without a simple sodding kiss, and with what we did, without basic aftercare, I have come away with some serious issues in regards to sex...on top of a sexual assult) and see through my eyes. See how it looks and feels to always be dropped by you best friend for the same reason time and time again, sex. No other reason, not for family or friends or emergancies or work or anything, just sex. Just open your eyes. All this writing, all these words are for me, and though I know he will be angry for it, I hope that there is an understanding (finally) that this silly little account is the one corner of the internet is mine. And surely a hell of a lot better than posting it to facebook. And Id never be able to say these things to him, because his anger would stop him from actually listening and just start shouting me down. I don't honestly know if he'll read this, but I hope he gets to the end. I hope he reads and dwells and thinks and learns and changes. I do not know how to get out of this blackhole, I only know that he is the only one with the power to do so. All I can do is make an attempt to follow a little of my own advice. I am lacking for a life, but I am working on it. Not to spite him, but regardless of him, I need it. And I need to follow my passion too. Something that makes me happy, that I hope may bring joy to others. You broke my heart, and my spirit, but I shall rebuild me. A better me. Me who will be just as giving and as loving as I always have. And I sincerly hope he can do the same because he is on a path to his own personal hell, and to stay in his sphere right now will only drag me down with him. I cannot allow that. And once he has fixed him, maybe he'll come find me, and maybe he can lay some groundwork to fix us, better than before. But no one can live on just hope forever. Anyway, if you stuck with this long ass post, thanks. And ten points to you. I realise it's filled with melodrama and meloncolly...and god awful spelling errors, but I dont have a spell check and it is below freezing and I am smoking up a storm as I type. And it's dark too since we've blown a fuse at the homestead. But I am an emotive person, a quite a talking, and a classic over thinker whose mind has literally been stuck on this issue for the last 2 weeks and 6 days. And people have told me to talk to him, but I know he will not listen to me, so I figured, try here? Maybe something might get through? And maybe, I can expell some of this negativity and pain so I can move on, in that healthy mature sort of way. Anyway, I guess that's it. XOXOX

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