#i will see a regular smiley face and i will scream and cry and sob and thrash and DIE

[airysthinkingbox]

god forbid wemmbu not be influenced by smiley yellow guy

[shespeaksinsongs]

You Are My New Fear | Letters To My Mom

TW: MOMMY ISSUES, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, SUICIDE, AND ANXIETY.

Me in my game room at about five years old.

I wish somebody would have told me that that smile I used to slather onto my face so effortlessly would soon become something I forced. I'm not sure if it would have made a difference, but it's best to be prepared in any case.

-

"What's your biggest fear?" My elementary best friend asked, kicking her feet giddily under the table. We were still too little to reach the floor.

"Drowning." I'd say, with a panicked look on my face, growing pale at the mere thought of dying that way.

-

"What are you most afraid of, hija?" My dad asked on our regular morning car rides to school.

"Drowning." I'd say, without even thinking twice. The answer was almost prepared, seeing as how casually it rolled off my tongue.

-

"What's your biggest fear?" My friend asked in the comfort of her room, watching as I shifted uncomfortably in my spot on her bed.

"Becoming my mother." I'd say wishing that drowning was the most of my worries.

-

I don't know when my default answer of drowning to death switched to the terrifying idea that I would, one day, become my mother. Still, somewhere along the lines, those little moments that I would suck up to my mom and gift her pretty pictures I spent hours working on and picking daisies from my backyard for her turned into scheduling my crying for nighttime when everyone was asleep.

Slowly but surely, I became uneasy about the idea of marriage, fearing that I'd only ruin it and become a wife like my mother. The idea of having children scared me to the point where I felt I would rather sacrifice my own happiness so that my children wouldn't have to live to see the day I turn into my mom.

Because in my eyes, my mom is a monster. She's not the kind of monster that has big, sharp teeth and scary yellow eyes, and a menacing growl. She's the kind of monster that you would never suspect. She's the bloody hand, but you were the accomplice. She was the screwdriver, but you were the loose screw. Sure, she hurt you, but you let yourself be hurt by her - so really, whose fault was it?

My mom is the kind of monster that uses your vulnerability against you in the worst way possible.

-

"I'm just not feeling good right now. I feel like I'm dying, and I feel tired all the time." My sixth-grade self, awkwardly positioned in the passenger's seat, turning my head away from my mom.

"Well, you know we care about you." My mom said, stoic in her demeanor and ultimately still in how she held her body up.

It was a day I'll never forget. She picked at her fingernails and anxiously tapped the gas pedal, waiting for me to be done talking about my emotions so she could drive back "home."

Warm tears stung my eyes, forcing their way down my face in slow streams. "You don't get it, I-" I stopped, knowing it wasn't worth it to try to make my mom understand feelings she'd been adamant didn't exist.

"Ay, don't be so dramatic." My mom said, waving her hand up to dismiss me and my silly ideas. She was right. I wasn't depressed or anxious, and I definitely didn't look for any excuse possible to threaten suicide against myself. My mom said so.

-

I don't know why I kept running back to her in times of need. Maybe it was my dream version of her that I relied on to justify my ever-growing love for her. Feasibly, it was the person I wanted her to be. And perhaps, just perhaps, my expectations of her drove me to the point where I'd convinced myself my mother was the person I saw when I closed my eyes at night.

I remember telling her things, spreading rumors I'd heard about people in the family, hoping that it would make us closer. The things I did just to make her happy...

-

"Mom, I'm trying my best!" I cried on the floor, cleaning up the mess my new puppy had made. She'd pooped and peed all over the kitchen. I was exhausted, previously knocked out in my bed, when my mom called me downstairs, screaming for me to get my ass down there.

"No, you're not! You never try! You're useless! I should've never had you!" My mom yelled from the bottom of her heart (or lack thereof).

Tears welled in my eyes for the millionth time because of my mother. This wasn't the first time she'd wished me dead, and it sure wouldn't be the last time. "Mommy, please just leave me alone and let me clean up." I begged, letting broken sobs come out of my mouth. I wanted to hurt her, and I wanted to hurt her as bad as she hurt me.

My mom refused to leave, yelling at me, watching as I piteously scraped my dog's contents off the wall.

-

It's sad that the only good memories I have of my mom are those I couldn't participate in. Instead, I have stories of her youth and how caring of a mother she used to be when I was a baby - conveniently so far back that I can't remember it. It pains me more knowing how she was before she had me, her firstborn. If she were this way her whole life, would I take it so personally?

Am I dramatic for wishing I had a mother who could hug me back when I hugged her? Am I a selfish and pathetic bitch for feeling envy when I see how my friends' moms act with them? Why can't my mom love me the way she loves her? Why does my mom have more pictures of her first niece than she does of me? What did I do to her?

-

"Mommy, mommy! Look!" I said, running up to my mother, holding my report card in the air like a shiny new toy - all A's.

"Nice job, Fio. I'm so proud of you. You're doing great. Keep it up." My mom said softly, pulling me into a warm hug. Somehow, that was all I needed - that's all I wanted. It really is a shame that that memory is fake.

-

I have plenty of other fake memories that I store in my head, letting the (also fake) backstories take over my mind when I go to sleep. For one of them, I was romping around on an old swing set, one that made little squeaky noises whenever I swung too high.

Somehow, I lose control of the swing, and my mom comes rushing up to me, worried and begging for me to tell her how she could help. I don't know when or how she got there (my dad was usually the one to take me to the park), but what I do know is she's exactly who I needed there at that moment.

So many real memories I have of me needing my mother most, waiting for the day she would actually turn up in one of them. She was always the first to pick me up in school lines. She was always at my open houses. She attended every grade promotion I had. But she was never there. It was all a facade. She'd said so herself that she craved being the all-star mom, the one who'd win several gold medals if there were award ceremonies for that sort of thing.

Her perfectionism is what makes her corrupt. She has spent my entire life telling me what to do, how to do it, scolding me for not doing it the way she imagined me doing it in her head.

She refused to seek help when that's all I wanted her to do.

-

"What do you want for your birthday, hija?" My dad asked, glancing at me while keeping his eyes fixed on the road, humming along to a Christmas carol playing on the radio.

"Honestly, dad?" I asked, only twelve years old, my green eyes twinkling in hope.

"Whatever your heart desires." My dad said in a goofy voice, making me smile.

"I want Mom to get help." I said sadly, hoping my dad would agree and push the idea upon my mom.

-

My mother went to therapy for four months. My dad had to pay her every session for her to go. In my mom's life, money has never been an obstacle. Her father was a middle-high class socialite in Venezuela who worked in engineering and oil companies. Her mother, who passed away of Leukemia when she was twelve, spoiled her rotten until her very last breath.

Eventually, I became mentally sick to the core. Writing and singing, my two favorite things in the world, became hobbies, and life had lost its zesty twang. Little things like music and the people I passed on the street that waved "hello" at me became nuisances. My mom "gave up" her therapy so I could get help.

I still wonder if she did it for herself or for me.

-

A few times a year, I get asked what my biggest fear is. Sometimes it comes up in conversation. Other times I create the question, not thinking about the consequences if people answer with "Spiders, yours?"

Each time I get asked, I take a deep breath and lie. "The dark." I say now, the idea of death by sea sounding more of tranquility than a travesty.

I look back at the old pictures I have of myself, a smiley and shy little girl who was afraid of nothing and everything at the same time. To her, I ask, "When you have nothing to lose, why be afraid?"

Me, with my baby doll at age three. I loved taking care of her. I used to take her everywhere with me.

[yoondoze]

ultimatum | l.dh

donghyuck is a cute regular who has seen your spectacle reserved for rude customers a number of times and just can’t get enough of it.

pairing: donghyuck/reader

genre/au: fluff, coffee shop! au

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none

a/n: i kinda forgot that i had this in my drafts and decided to finish it! this was the mcdonalds au i once mentioned but thought that a coffee shop might work better. hope you enjoy <3 also, this was inspired by an incident from this post

When you’ve been working in fast food for long enough, your skin gets real thick.

There was just about nothing that could get to you, not even the wrath of a fifty-year-old man with a heavy southern accent calling you a whore because a barista accidentally gave him whipped cream when he didn’t ask for any - even claiming that whipped cream was emasculating! It wasn’t your fault and you knew it, even though he treated it like you killed his firstborn son. Still, you didn’t let it stress you out. You were tougher than nails - in fact, you were the type of person to throw nails into your mouth like sunflower seeds, chew them, and spit them out. When you were at work, anyway.

However, that didn’t mean you enjoyed dealing with it. Sometimes, you couldn’t get customers to leave you alone - Jesus Christ lady, I already gave you a refund and a coupon if you ever want to come back (please don’t), what more do you want? And you had a perfect way to get rid of it.

It was just a thing. Your coworkers laughed til their ribs hurt every time you pulled it and it was undeniably hilarious. You knew you weren’t supposed to anymore and perhaps it was a bit manipulative, but in your book, they deserved it.

And here we go again. 

“There are no straws left,” she said abruptly. Her horribly cut side bangs swept to the right of her face screamed that this would be more troublesome than you were willing to put up with. When you looked over, she was correct. There were no more straws left in the basket on the counter. Big whoop.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” you replied in your most polite, high pitched voice, “I’ll be right on it in a moment.”

You continued taking the current customer’s order, hoping a coworker mulling around might have heard it and would get her the damn straw. No one stepped up though, leading you to believe that they almost wanted it to escalate, especially when Jisung - who was “busy” making a drink - gave you a look. Nothing had happened all day and everyone was bored out of their minds.

“Alright, your total will be-”

“Excuse me?” Her eye twitched as she interrupted you.

“One moment please ma’am, I’ll be right with you.”

“...Are you kidding me?” She scoffed. “All I need is a damn straw, and you kids are just going to ignore me?”

In the blink of an eye, you were wearing an anxious expression like a mask and your voice was faltering with worry. The customer who was right in front of you, who was actually quite pleasant, was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the woman leaning into his bubble just to get in your face.

“Ma’am, I’m dealing with another customer-”

“And you were dealing with me first!” she yelled, bringing up a poorly manicured finger to point at you. “This place is horrendous. I cannot believe how low the bar is for the service I am receiving right now. You are one lazy little girl, and let me tell you, not one member of your generation is fit for the workforce right now. Always in your phones, not even able to refill the straws! When I get home, I am going to leave a Yelp review that will bring this place to the ground!”

You had to stifle a laugh in your throat.

It was dead silent. Conversations came to a halt, food was left half-chewed in people’s mouths as they focused on the ordeal up at the register. Some people in the place had seen you do it once or twice, if they came here regularly when you were working. Those people met your eyes and watched with excitement. One who you were familiar with, Donghyuck, looked up from his phone and raised his eyebrow at you from a corner booth, anticipating your next move.

The first time viewers were in for a treat.

Cue the waterworks. Your eyes filled to the brim with glassy tears, something you learned to do on command since you started working here, and brought your hands to your face. It was just natural at this point.

In a choked voice, you stumbled over your words, “I, I’m so sorry ma’am, it’s just that I… It’s my first day today and…”

You watched as her anger melted away and guilt began to take place. “I’m so sorry for messing up, I just got overwhelmed and…”

“No, no, no darling, I am sorry for yelling at you and I shouldn’t have. You’re new and it was my fault…” Her cheeks were incredibly red at this point, eyes wide and absolutely astonished. While you kept crying, sobs comparable to those in an afternoon soap opera, she had no clue what to do. Everyone in the store was looking at her with judgemental eyes, even her kids sitting at the booth. You spared a quick glance to Donghyuck, who gave you a concealed thumbs up as he tried not to laugh.

Instead of finishing the conversation, she simply hurried away back to her table, embarrassed, putting on her jacket and quickly pushing her family out. Trying to hold in your laughter, you ran to the back and let another watching worker take your place.

The others on break burst into laughter when you walk in and you couldn’t help but join them. It just felt good to see rude customers get what was coming to them, even if you had to lie a little. You wiped your eyes and patted your face dry with a towel as they complimented your performance. It was unbelievable that you weren’t being cast in movies instead of working a minimum wage barista job.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re so good at that!”

“It never gets old, I swear.”

“Just don’t let the manager find out you did it again.”

That was the one problem you had with the joke. Your manager, Doyoung, was strict and held way too much pride in his direction of the café. He maybe smiled at it the first time and then warned you not to pull the act again or there would be consequences. Since then, it always had to be something just between the employees. He was friendly but took his work in the fast casual business seriously and wouldn’t hesitate to let you go if you presented any problems, and unfortunately, you needed the money.

“Well, I’m not letting him know anytime soon, so you better not either. I’m your only source of entertainment around here, anyway,” you laughed, setting down your towel.

After it was safe to go out again, you received a few comments from customers who had witnessed it. Some were apologetic, clearly those who felt sympathetic for the new worker. Others were happy to praise your acting, and the shared laughter made you forget about the possibility of getting fired for it and wondering if it was worth the effort.

It was a little while later that you noticed that Donghyuck still sat in his corner booth. It surprised you, as the boy was typically only here for an hour max to do schoolwork before heading home. To be completely honest, you were always a bit disheartened when he left. You thought you worked better when there was eye candy present, encouraging you to do your best. Not like correctly making lattes would impress him, but you get the gist. 

You memorized his order fairly quickly when he first started coming around and always tended to him with much more care than other customers. Your coworkers noticed it and teased you about it constantly - especially Jisung - but nonetheless let you have your fun.

Donghyuck was fairly talkative. Typically you would only listen half-heartedly when it came to customer conversations, but you paid full attention when he was speaking. He talked about his group of friends at school, his teachers, and sometimes you were even treated with a fun story of something that had happened recently. He was really kind and charming, not to mention that he was so cute that it made your heart hurt sometimes.

Occasionally you left a smiley face next to his name on the cup when you were feeling lucky, but not much came of it other than a small laugh, which you were still delighted to see anyway. Jisung suggested for you to write your number down a few times, but you wouldn’t be able to deal if he rejected you like that.

In other words, you had a big fat crush, and him staying later today gave you an ounce of sweet, sweet hope. 

It was close to the end of your shift when he came up to the counter. Jisung had gone to the back to get his things since the place was pretty empty, so it was just you.

He looked like he was just going to leave, with his backpack slung on his shoulder and all, but he didn’t. You tilted your head to the side as he approached the pick-up counter rather than the registers. “Not ordering?” you asked.

“No, actually,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “I, uh, I just wanted to talk to you for a little.”

It was safe to say that your heart leaped from your chest. This had to be it!

“Oh, okay... well then what’s up?”

He sighed and then smiled. “That act you pulled earlier… I swear, I never get tired of it.”

You laughed in return. “Yeah, me neither… I don’t know, it’s pretty entertaining for me, too.”

“How do you do it?” he leaned in closer and lowered his voice for dramatics. “Like, you start crying on demand. It’s amazing!”

You could only shrug, trying to keep your cool as he talked. “I couldn’t tell you. I just make myself get really upset, like it’s actually my first day, and go from there. I’m no actor, but... I’d say it’s pretty convincing.”

“No, it’s definitely convincing. I think I’ve seen it happen about four times now, including today. It’s great, like you just flip a switch and boom! Oscar-winning performance.”

The two of you giggled over it, sending your heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. You couldn’t see yourself in a mirror but were sure your face was flushed red. Eventually, as the energy started to die down, he began again.

“Anyway, so I think you kinda know that I’m not just here to talk - I, I mean I like talking I just had something else to say-”

“It’s fine,” you said, grin prickling at your lips, “Don’t worry.”

He sighed, fingers entangling themselves as they rested on the counter. Donghyuck cleared his throat and then he said quickly, “This is a bit awkward and probably not the best place to ask but since I don’t know when else I could do it… would you go on a date with me sometime?” 

He waited for your response with wide eyes, chewing on his bottom lip. You were so shocked that you couldn’t get any words out. It was your dream come true, yet you were still screwing it up.

“Um, you know what, nevermind, it was stupid of me to ask and especially while you were at work-”

You waved your hand as you realized where he was going. “No, no, it’s fine! I was just surprised, that’s all!” It was especially shocking that he was so flustered. From what you had seen from him, he was calm and collected. This wasn’t smooth as you imagined, but it was incredibly endearing.

You bit your lip mischievously. “I mean… I don’t know, Donghyuck. You’re a customer. Why should I?”

Fortunately, he received your playfulness well. What you didn’t expect was for him to come back even stronger. “Well, if you want to get serious… I’ll leave a complaint that you fake cry to make annoying customers feel guilty?”

A loud, hearty laugh made its way out of your chest. “Okay, fair enough. As long as you don’t tell my manager, I’d be happy to go on a date with you.”

You gave him a cheeky wink and grabbed a notepad and a pen and started to scribble down your phone number. When you handed it to him, that adorable signature grin spread across his face.

“Okay, I’ll... call you sometime. Thanks, Y/N.”

Then he was off, out the door with a certain bounce in his step that made you giddy, too. You had to turn around, letting yourself do a little dance of joy. At that moment, Jisung came out from the back with a smug look on his face. He punched you on the shoulder lightly as he walked out behind the counter.

“Finally,” he laughed as you protested. “It’s literally been months.”

You squinted your eyes as you stared at the boy who was now cleaning up. He had been gone for quite a long period of time, and wasn’t he just getting his things? “Did you have anything to do with this?”

He just smiled to himself as he washed his hands.

“Jisung!” you whined, swatting at him. 

“Hey, hey, I only dropped some hints! Nothing explicit, it’s not like I paid him… just some hints!”

Scrunching up your nose, you crossed your arms and looked away.

“C’mon, Y/N, I’m your wing-man! You needed it and you know it.”

“Okay, maybe!” you threw your hands up in surrender. Then, in a small voice, you mumbled, “Thanks.”

But that pretty much decided it. If you could get yourself a date with the cutest boy you’ve ever seen out of it, the risk of being fired was more than worth it.

[julietgang]

EXO reaction to s/o crying during an argument

REQUEST: " Can you do EXO reaction to s/o crying during an argument? Thanks lots 💗 "

EXO reaction how will them apologize when you are friends

Minseok:

The argument will beginning so lightly that none of you wouldn't take it seriously. Something regular like you talking crap about one of his friend that you don't like at all.

Then he will mention your best friend, you sassyly talking over his friend again. Later your families will be named and without noticed you are screaming to each other about what you hate from the other.

"Wow, I am not taking this anymore, It is helpless..."

"Why? Because I am not good enough?! Why are you even with me, Minseok? Go find the perfect girl you deserve!"

"Maybe I will!" you both will frozen in this instant. You can't help but cry, the idea of him wanting someone better really hurts you. Minseok will last a few minutes sitting in the sofa, completely in shock. Questioning how it's possible that things could have turned so wrong so fast...

Junmyeon (bias alert!):

Cry Baby #1

I pictured this big argument about an specific theme. You. Your lifestyle and your security. You adore him, he loves you, but he overthinks everything a little too much. He can't help himself.

"No, you don't understand, of course you don't... You don't understand all I have done for you!" he will be yelling at this point.

"Yeah, sure, I am stupid, Mr. right, because you're always right!"

"I have to go..." he will say grabbing his jacket.

"Yes, leave! Runaway! I don't want to see you ever again!" you shouting, but do not believing your own words.

Suho moving to leave your house.

"No! Don't go! Please, Junmyeon! I love you Don't go!" then you will see him also on tears.

Baekhyun:

You will have one of those days that your hormones decided to make you feel down & blue.

That feeling + Baekhyun's hard day, will end up with you crying.

He will be hella confused with the situation, like he didn't even have time to really start the argument.

"Jagi, what is wrong? Are you feeling sick or something?" Baek will let his bad mood outside, just worrying so much about you crying so unexpectedly.

Jongdae:

He is a happy soul! He is so smiley and understanding! But, hey, he is human...

In this rare ocassion when the two of you argue it's going to be about a serious issue. Maybe something that is disturbing him for a long time. Like you spending a lot of time with other EXO member, nothing happening between you two, but the close friendship is enough to start making Jongdae uncomfortable and jealous. It would be a pain to feel this way because of one of his brothers.

"What comes in to you, today, Jongdae?!"

"You know! I just realized I can't trust my cheating girlfriend anymore!"

That would be so much for you to handle. You didn't expect your lovely boyfriend saying such a bad thing to you. You feel tears burning in your eyes, never breaking the eye-contact with Chen.

Chanyeol:

Cry Baby #2

Making you cry will make him feel miserable. The worst man in the world. Really.

"Maybe we should never dated!" this stupids words running his mind since the moment he spoked them.

You will start crying infront of him, just being able to hide your face ith your hands. He standing there, no moving a single muscle. Feeling horrible with himself while listen to your sobs.

"Do you really think that?" you mumble as you can.

"No, no, lovely, I am an idiot... I want to be with you..."

A first tear leaving his big round eyes. Then other and one more after the last one. And without noticed he is crying as you are. Not waiting anymore for hug you!

Kyungsoo:

I feel like his serious self will warn you about his temper, but he have a lot of auto-control, so similar to Chen, is not that often that you fight...

But when this awful moment arrives. Get ready, you'll need all your strenght! Once he is mad, like really mad, nothing is going to stop his cruelty. Words cut like knives, you had never understand those words before this night.

Also his cold gaze, turning your blood into ice the minute it rests on you.

"Don't cry..." will be the only sentence leaving his mouth, still with dark eyes.

Jongin:

Cry Baby #3

Believe me... you will end up being the one comforting him, and begging him not to cry.

He is so precious and he cares about you with all his heart. Is the only way he knows to love, fully. Maybe that scared you a bit when you started your relationship, but you got used to it.

You will confront him in one of his jealous attacks against one new male friend you have met. You in the middle of a park, arguing one with another, voice louder and louder.

"He is a friend, please, Jongin, I met him two days ago! I am done with your jealousy!"

"Done? Are you done with me too? Because maybe me being jealous is all about being terrified of losing you..." his eyes red in this point. Yours feeling weak too.

"Maybe I will..." you reply, not louder than a whisper. He then finds a spot in the ground to sit on, hidden his wet checks with his hands. "I like you like crazy, Jonging, but you need to trust me a lot more..." a tear rolls down your face while you place yourself besides him. Resting your head in his strong shoulder.

"I will, I promise."

Sehun:

Sehun will not understand. Not in the very beginning at least. But he will know that he hates himself for have make you cry. He also knows that have to do everything in his power to stop your sobs. Finally, he will react when noticed that you start picking up the personal stuff you have in his apartment.

"I am sorry, (Y/N), I wasn't thinking..."

"No, you wasn't, you were mean, Sehun!" your voice cracking.

"Yes, I know. So please, baby, tell me what to do to make you feel better..."

- i do not own the gifs -

[ofcelesticls]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   —  𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑰

tw: mental illness

they ask you what you want to be when you grow up and your answer is always the same. 

‘ A STAR, ’  you say. ‘ i want to be A STAR. ’

but you don’t mean the kind who appears pirouetting across a stage on her toes, the kind whose face covers the magazines that flood the grocery store checkout aisles. that’s your sister, not you. you don’t want to be immortalized on the silver screen. 

you want to be immortalized in the maps of the night sky on atlas pages. you want to be a STAR, bright and untouchable and magical. you want to guide wanderers back home, you want to grant the wishes of every child who turns to you for solace, you want to be CELESTIAL. 

and a star you become, but not in the way you had always dreamed. you do not emulate the beauty that lights up the night sky, you emulate their destruction. the way that they burn. the millions of miles between you and anyone who devotes a fleeting moment of their time to look upon you. the way that anyone who gets too close to you will be burnt alive. they look at you and they think you are shining, but nobody remembers that the time when a star shines the brightest is when it’s COLLAPSING. 

and you’ve been collapsing for so long, perched precariously on the edge of contracting with the weight of the gravity upon you as the fire inside of you dies out and your heart cools.

it begins like this:

you’re only FIVE years old. your only concerns should be fleeting, few, and far-between. you should be worried about if your mom packed carrots or celery in your lunch box, if you’ll get a turn with the play-dough at centers or if you’ll get stuck playing with the plastic bugs again, if you’ll be able to sneak onto the bus in your favorite polka-spot rainboots despite the fact that it's been dry for weeks. 

but life isn’t always fair, you learned that so very early on. back when chubby, sticky fingers still tried to grab stars out of the twinkling night sky — or tried to grab onto your father’s hand as you begged him to ‘ please, don’t make grandma go away. she’s LONELY there. i’ll take my bath, no whining, and go to bed early. i PROMISE. ’

instead, you spend your earliest years worrying about how many times your teacher will try to ask you a question today and how long it will take her to exchange her words for a sad smile of giving up, about the way your sister must feel when boys and girls on the playground ask her why her sister doesn’t talk, about the way you can hear your parents talking about you late at night if you poke your head out of your bedroom door when you can’t sleep, about the way they look so tired when they park the car in front of a new therapist’s office — your third one this month — and ask you to ‘ give this one a chance, kiera. please. ’

instead of receiving stickers for remembering your alphabet perfectly or knowing that one plus one equals two, you receive your first diagnosis, branded into your skin with a burning iron.

𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀. 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄. 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐌.

you’re six years old when you first realize that they think you’re STUPID. 

it’s first grade when your new teacher tells you that, from now on, you’ll go spend part of the afternoon with a different teacher, in a different room. she says it’s only until you learn how to talk, and that’s when you realize that they don’t think you’re smart enough to stay in class with the rest of the kids. you don’t think it’s FAIR, because you are smart enough, YOU ARE, and you have to miss social studies, which is your FAVORITE. 

but your new teacher isn’t as nice as your kindergarten teacher was. she gives up on trying to ask you how your day is going a couple weeks into the school year. she doesn’t let you sit near her desk during work time in case there was something you want to show her. and she thinks that the reason you don’t talk is because you don’t know how. so, instead of telling her that you don’t think it’s fair, you just nod and look down at the ground.

you tell your parents that you don’t like your new classroom. it’s too small, too stuffy. and it’s just YOU in there with your new teacher, all alone, with nothing to hide behind. 

your parents don’t tell you that you can go back to your regular classroom, like you want them to. instead, they tell your therapist, in pretty, sugar-coated words that they aren’t so sure this new treatment plan is working. 

your therapist promises you that you’re not any less intelligent than the rest of your classmates — ‘ you’re just DIFFERENT, that’s all, ’ she says, her hand on your shoulder in a way that you know is supposed to be nice, but just makes you feel ITCHY. 

and that’s when you realize that SHE thinks you’re stupid, too. 

when you get home, you tell your parents that you don’t want to go see her anymore with hot, pin-prick tears stuck in your eyelashes. they look at each other, again, in the way that makes your stomach hurt and your eyes burn, but the next week they park the car in front of a new office building. and so, the cycle begins again.

this time, it brings with it your first ever prescription. 

𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀. 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍. 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑. 𝐏𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐋, 𝟏𝟎 𝐌𝐆.

your new doctor is different than the others. she doesn’t talk to you as much. she spends most of her time scribbling down notes on a piece of paper, nodding along as your parents speak for you. she says that she doesn’t like to give medications to children, but she does anyway, for you. 

‘ two years of therapy without progress is CONCERNING, ’ she says, peering at you over the rim of her glasses in a way that makes you feel just as nervous as the idea of opening your mouth and talking does. ‘ i think it’s in your best interest to consider alternative treatment. ’

that’s how you end up with a brand new addition to your breakfast plate. a tiny, yellow pill. 

two weeks later, you make your first friend. but, still, you DON’T SPEAK. the progress isn’t enough.

𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀. 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍. 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑. 𝐀𝐃𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒, 𝟐𝟎 𝐌𝐆.

your one friend becomes two, with nothing but a handshake from a boy with a nice smile and skin the same color as your own. 

still, you DON’T SPEAK. you’re on the right path, they say, but you need to move faster.

𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀. 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍. 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑. 𝐀𝐃𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒, 𝟑𝟎 𝐌𝐆.

then the world starts moving TOO fast, and everything hits you all at once.

you wake up every morning with your head pounding. when you try to tell your parents, they think you’re just trying to get out of going to school. you can’t blame them, you usually DO try and get out of school. everything makes you more nervous than it did before — the sound of your gym teacher’s whistle, the rush of children racing out past you to get to the playground, the way everyone’s voices overlap in the cafeteria. you’re never hungry anymore. once, you leave class to go to the bathroom and end up stuck outside for eight minutes because you SWEAR your class was out at recess and not in the classroom.

how did you forget that ?

most days, you come home crying, but that isn’t anything new. it isn’t until you come home SCREAMING — sobbing, shaking, scratching at the skin of your arms as your mother holds you, tight, in the kitchen while your father is on the phone — that you finally stop having to take the terrible, horrible medicine that makes you feel this way.

your parents take you to a new doctor a few weeks later, and there’s a new bottle of medicine with your name on it not long after.

𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀. 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐀𝐂, 𝟏𝟎 𝐌𝐆.

for a while, things are better. they’re so much better.

you finally start to speak. first to your friends. then to the nurse, whose office you have to check-in at every day after lunch, to make sure you’re feeling okay. then to your second grade teacher, who is much gentler than your teacher from the year before and ALWAYS lets you sit by your friends. 

your therapist asks you how you’d feel about writing notes to people that you’re not sure if you’re ready to talk to. you know exactly who you want to write them to, and on the way home from your appointment you ask your mom if you can get your own, special paper and pens. the smile on her face is so pretty, you feel like you’ve finally done something RIGHT. 

it only took you eight years.

you pick out the bright colored stationery papers that have kittens on the borders — because you know that daisey rutherford already has the ones with dogs, and your ears burn at the idea of her thinking that you’re trying to copy her — and gel pens with little flecks of glitter swirled inside of the ink that make it look like shooting stars are frozen in time on your paper when you write with them.

that night, you write your first letter to daisey. three failed drafts end up, crumbled, in your waste bin before you’re finally satisfied with the result. you fold it twice, seal it with a puffy sticker in the shape of an ice cream cone adorned with a smiley face, and stick it in her cubby the next day when she isn’t looking.

to your surprise, the morning after, there’s a note waiting for you on your desk, written on daisey’s hot pink, puppy dog paper. she dots her i’s with hearts and calls you KIKI. 

the nickname sticks. 

you start to talk to her, too, but you still write notes back and forth. just because.

you’re riding high for a few, good years. and then every wall you worked so hard to build up, each stone you took painstaking hours to secure into place, comes crumbling down all around you the summer before high school starts. 

when you finally manage to drag yourself out of the rubble and wipe the dust off your brow, the only company you have is another new diagnosis and a new orange bottle with your name stamped on it.

𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐑, 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀. 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍. 𝐁𝐈𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑. 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐕𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐑, 𝟑 𝐌𝐆.

bipolar ii, you learn, is easily confused with major depressive order, which is treated with the kinds of medications you’ve been taking for years. the mania, they say, doesn’t ever swing quite as high as other bipolar disorders do. it’s a thinly veiled way of reminding you that you’re too SAD. it’s a harder disorder to catch.

‘ usually we look for medical history in immediate family members, ’ the doctors explain, polite smiles painted onto polite faces, ‘ but, given the conditions... ’

there’s no use in trying to skirt around the point with you when it comes to your family history. or, rather, your lack thereof. and, yet, something about doctors and their innate ability to always sound so professional means that they never say what they really mean.

that being, ‘ you were left at the FIRE STATION. safe haven law. your birth mother is nothing but a JANE DOE, we have no way of knowing what your medical history entails. ’

but, after seven long years spent in the company of various medical professionals, they don’t need to say it outright for you to know exactly what they mean.

finally, FINALLY, having the right diagnosis to explain the constant brewing chaos in your mind and the right medication to help create gentle waters out of your internal, stormy seas SHOULD mean that things are good again. 

it doesn’t. 

they aren’t.

[thehalfworld]

Fanfic MST: Forbiden Fruit: The Tempation of Edward Cullen, a Twilight fanfic [part 8]

And here we are at the end. I hope you’ve all been enjoying the ride, because it’s about to get a whole lot weirder in this, the final chapter.

Warnings this time around: a whole lot of drug use, some underage drinking, DUI but it’s okay because Tiaa is a vampire, bestiality, and an attempted sexual assault. Also did I mention drug use? There’s a lot of drug use.

Recap: Tiaa met a panda bear named Snoofles on her way to school (please don’t think too hard about this) and learned that she can now talk to animals, among other abilities. Thanks to a vague new ability of hers, she accidentally made her mean classmate Lauren get struck by lightning while they were in a verbal spat. Edward finally decided to leave Bella for Tiaa and the two celebrated by having sex in the middle of the school. Bella walked in on them and got upset.

Chapter 1

Previous chapter

hey guys sory its been so long since an update, i hav been so busy latley. sooooo..i had a fight with my old beta but i have a new 1 now an she is helpin me byut she is on vacaton this wk and next so i promise i will sort the spellin mistaks out wen i can!

Did she refuse to beta your fic after you stole her poster of Gerard Way?

Chapter 8 - the Kidnap

I sat alone in the changes rooms, i was all most naked and looked awsome with my exotic lithely hair falling down over my face like a curtan of soft yellow cream with bits of purple in it but I didnt care how beautifull or eqxisite I was any more. 

Tiaa doesn’t care how beautiful she is, but she had to start the sentence off by reminding us all how beautiful she is. And that she looks awesome. And her hair is exotic.

Whatever that means.

Edward was gone. he had left to follow Bella to stop her from killin herself and i was SO mad. 

Wait, are you mad Edward is attempting to prevent Bella from committing suicide?

how coud he leave me like that after sayin bella was a cow and he didnt like her no more? 

That doesn’t mean he’s fine with letting her make attempts on her own life, Tiaa.

I was pissed! and the tears were falling down my face like a tepid summer rain of misery and woe. 

I love this goddamn sentence.

So i went home and skipped school and sat in my room in my black corset and leather panties and i smoked some drugs and started to weep. 

To be fair, this is a really solid stoner-goth aesthetic she has going.

…wait, hold up, leather panties? 

Leather panties?

dave came in and made a big smiley face.

He’s in a really good mood for someone whose brother was murdered hours ago.

"hi tiaa! I didnt no you were home! how was school today?" (he didnt notice i was smokin drugs he thougt my cigarete of pot was a chapstick)

Okay, for the sake of argument, I’ll buy that Dave visually mistook a spliff for chapstick… but can he not smell that she’s smoking weed?

"it sucks!my life sucks and i want to DIE!" i scremed and my eyes glitered with beauty.

Love how Tiaa is suicidal but still needs to make sure we know how pretty she is at all times. Reminds me of the bit in “My Immortal” where Enoby was flirting while sobbing.

"u teenagers and ur problems, LOL!" he said laughing a lot, and i knew he thougt i was just some silly kid wineing about homework and dumb boys and stuff. 

Well, replace “homework” with “getting raped by the relative of a caregiver, turning into a vampire, and accidentally seriously injuring a classmate” and Dave’s on the money.

he didnt no i had killed a man and lost the love off my life and had made lauren get hit by lighting and that all the kids at school thougt i was a freak becase my face and bodys were so diffrent from everyone elses.

Do I really need to tell this girl to stop humanizing her rapist? She killed him in self-defense! It was one hundred percent justified! C’mon, Tiaa, don’t be so hard on yourself.

Also, nobody cares about Lauren.

"dave your a good person but ur SO FUCKIN DUMB! YOU ASSHOLE!" i shouted at him and i threw my ashtray at his head WITHOUT TOUCHING IT (i could make stuff move when i was angry now...it was so weird! why did this have too happen to me!)

Well, yeah, that is weird, but I don’t get the woe-is-me attitude about it. Telekinesis is a really cool ability. Also, turns out Dave is literally so dumb that you can be an obvious nonhuman smoking weed in bed while screaming about wanting to die and he’ll take you for an ordinary teenage girl holding a tube of chapstick.

"haha, i guess your right" he laughed (he thougt i was joking, i wasnt spoiled or anythin) 

…so did the ashtray miss?

"its so nice havin you hear tiana, your so pretty. i swear your even prettier than before! 

I can’t help but feel that the amount Dave and Marie compliment Tiaa on her looks borders on inappropriate, considering she is sixteen and they are her foster parents. 

and i think your boobs hav grown!" 

Case in point.

"yeh i no they are like an E cup now" i said.

I guess it’s a good thing she’s a vampire, then, since I’m pretty sure vampires can’t get back problems.

Wait. Can vampires get high? Does being high feel different if you’re a vampire?

Dave smiled and patted me on the head and left.

That Dave!

I was so sick of bein treated like a kid and no one listenin to me that i got up and got dresed in a long black dress and took some pills (of drugs) and went out to the local nightclub which was called Pablo NIghtmare - it was a goth club were all the cool people went in forks. 

Listen, I don’t know Washington State, but in my neck of the woods small towns don’t have goth nightclubs. 

I love that she specified the pills were drugs, in case we thought they were sugar pills or something. 

bella probably had never even heard of it, LOL! 

If there is a goth nightclub in your small town, I guarantee you everyone has heard of it.

i met snoofles on the way and he came with me. 

You’re taking the panda out clubbing?

we went to the club and got drinks and started dancing to the heavy metal music. 

…I’m starting to get very confused about Snoofles. My initial impression was that he’s a regular panda bear, but Tiaa is able to communicate with him because she’s a vampire and can talk to all animals now. But I don’t think ordinary pandas go to clubs, get drinks, and dance to heavy metal music.

Although I’ve never met one, so I could be wrong.

ppl there stared at us cos i was so diffrerent looking and Snoofles was a panda, but we didnt care we were havin so much fun we were SO drunk and had taken a lot of drugs so my head was fuzzy like there was snow everywhere.

I adore the similes in this fic. No idea what Tiaa is on but I definitely know what the author means by feeling like there’s snow everywhere in your head.

"hi your called Tiana arent you? I am Jasper and I go to your school" said Jasper Cullen who was tall with blond curly hair like straw only soft and nice and not dry. 

So… not like straw, then.

he was tall. 

Yeah, you mentioned.

he was wearin a black pulover and red metal pointy shoes. (AN - haha, that descripton sounded beter in my head, OH WELL!)

No, it’s good, I dig it. Simple goth on top, bling on the bottom, may or may not be wearing pants? It’s a look.

"hey whatever" i said. "why arent you with that girl i all ways see you with?

"you mean my GF alice," he said and locked soddenly very sad and started to cry and bite down hard on his lips.

"what is wrong Jasper?" i said

"the problem is i dont love her like she loves me. i am gay, and thats wrong, and i feel so horible about it!" 

Of course he’s gay. Look at his outfit! Look at those shoes! I can’t even see him for real and my gaydar is going wild.

"theres nothing bad about bein gay u no" i said. 

"REALLY?" he sed, and looked chocked with his mouth open.

Good on Tiaa for being an ally. I love how Jasper reacts as though he’s never considered the possibility that his gayness might be alright. He’s a vampire too and has been alive for well over a century, so that’s a lot of internalized homophobia… but he’s also been around to witness the entire modern LGBT rights movement, so you’d think he might have gotten the “it’s okay to be gay” message before.

"yeah, its proper normal and Snoofles is gay and everything" i said and Snoofles waved and Jasper waves back. 

If you just got a bad feeling about what might happen next, trust your fucking instincts.

he smiled and we all stared dancing together and Jasper gave us some of his drugs.

I really wanna know what they’ve been taking, because even though Tiaa isn’t human I feel like anyone who can get high should have to worry about drug interactions. Weed and alcohol is fine, but aside from that I have no idea what the hell Tiaa is on except that she described it as “pills” and a lot of drugs that come in pill form do not play nice with alcohol. She probably isn’t going to fry her liver or anything like that given that she’s essentially undead, but I doubt she’s immune to having a bad trip.

we had a relay good time and jasper met another gay guy called Vince and we all got in Snoofleses car at the end of the night and i drove around while the others all had sex in the back of the car. 

A note: At this point in the story I quite literally had to stop the MST for a bit so I could pour myself a very stiff drink. 

The panda has a car. The panda is having a threesome with a vampire and a human in the back of his car while another vampire drives it. This is treated as normal because the panda and his two human(oid) sexual partners happen to all be gay.

Like, I’d normally feel pretty weird about the “promiscuous gay” stereotype being invoked, but I’m way too busy feeling weird that the author thinks it’s normal for gay guys to want to screw a panda because the panda happens to be gay too. Also, keep in mind Snoofles can only talk to Tiaa — the dudes he’s having sex with can’t understand him. I’m gonna say a panda who behaves like a human and owns a car is probably capable of consenting, but I still feel mighty weird about the idea that two dudes who perceive Snoofles as an ordinary, non-talking panda would want to have a threesome with him.

I guess the promiscuity aspect isn’t even bad considering how Tiaa and Edward have been acting with each other throughout the fic. The bestiality, though, I have trouble overlooking.

(i was drunk but cos i was a vampire it was ok to drive i had beter reflex than humans!)

Sure, but do you even know how to drive? In most states, it’s not legal to get a learner’s permit until you’re Tiaa’s age, so we’re not talking “experienced driver with superhuman reflexes,” we’re talking “superhuman reflexes, but on somebody who quite possibly has never sat in the driver’s seat of a car before.”

but soddenly somethin jumped into the road infront of us and i had to stop the car and get out. there was a man standin in the middle of the road he was tall and mussely and had black hair like the black feathers of a raven in the black darkness. 

But was his black hair like the black feathers of a black raven in the black darkness? I just want to be clear on the color.

he was good looking but he looked so angry i got out my samurai sword (i often have it with me!) but somone jammed up behind me and tore it from me, there were like ten people all grabbing my body in the darkness and they put a thing over my face so i coudnt see and they tied me up! 

Oh, of course, her samurai sword. Yep. Been with her the whole time.

Jasper Snoofles and Vince were too busy doing gay sex on each other to notice, i cud hear them grunting and humping and having orgasms on each other - it was so cute but now was SO not the time! 

She’s being attacked by a group of ten or more people, who have overpowered her, restrained her, and blindfolded her, in the middle of the road. Three people (well, a person, a vampire, and a panda) are present and they don’t notice this happening at all.

Like… I know they’re all intoxicated and, uh, otherwise occupied at the moment, but did they not at least pause to notice Tiaa slamming on the brakes to avoid colliding with a stranger in the road?

The men who had caught me took me away and somethin hit me over the head and i was unconshous.

when i awoken i found myself in a small dark room and the tall mussel man was in front of me. i was strip down to my underwear and i was chained to a chair with some metal chains and i coudnt move.

Tiaa has superhuman strength and reflexes. She has telekinetic abilities. She can affect objects and people by touching them. 

Yet she can’t get out of being chained to a chair?

I call BS.

"WHO ARE YOU YOU WANKY PERV!" i shoyted.

She sounds like Wheatley from “ITS MY LIFE!” now.

"I AM JACOB...THE WEREWOLF KING!" he yelled with his eyes rolling around in his face - he looked so mad and CRAZY!

Jacob’s a big dude who can turn into a wolf, but he’s also about fifteen and just learning about the whole werewolf thing, so I doubt he’d be “king” of anything. Also Tiaa could take him easy.

"NOOOOOOO!" I scremed and i try to broke myself free but i was under so many heavy chains so i looked into his wagging face insted.

I don’t know why she reacted so negatively to Jacob’s response. There is a longstanding vampire/werewolf feud in the Twilight universe, but Tiaa is very newly turned and shouldn’t know about any of that yet. Learning your kidnapper is a werewolf sucks, but if you’re already a vampire you’ve got an edge too.

"Watt do u want from me? why am i here?" i say and i started to cry.

"YOU MUST BE PUNISHED FOR WHAT YOU DID TO BELLA SWAN!" he shreeked and the drool was sloapping down his face just like rain only thick and foam-like. 

So… not like rain, then.

"YOU ARE A HALF-BREAD! 

I’ve got to change this blog’s name right away. I don’t know what I was thinking naming it “The Half-World” when I could have named it “The Half-Bread.”

Also, hold up — what did Tiaa do to Bella? Is this just about “stealing” Edward? Jacob and Edward aren’t exactly buddy-buddy, and if Bella’s single Jacob has a chance with her, so if anything I think he owes Tiaa a thank-you.

YOU SHOUD NEVER HAVE BEEN BORNE! YOUR FATHER WAS A VAMPIRE AND YOUR MOM WAS A WHITCH! ITS WEIRD AND WRONG AND NOW YOUVE BROKEN BELLAS HEART! HALF-BREAD! HALF-BREAD! HALF-BREAD!" 

Well, this really does speak for itself.

This dude was insane, he was so angery he was jumpin up and down. 

Sounds like my second-grade teacher. She was the daughter of a well-known Republican senator and she had to resign after she tied a kid to a chair with a jump rope. True story.

But something he said had caugt my attention .

Good job on the punctuation.

"What do u mean my mom was a whitch?" I said.

What do you think he meant, genius?

"MY FATHER USED TO NO HER! SHE LIVED HERE IN LA PUSH AND SHE WAS A WHITCH! SHE COUD MAKE FIRE COME FROM NOWERE AND CONTROLL THE WETHER AND TALK TO ANIMALS AND LOADS OF OTHER STUFF! SHE WAS A FREAK LIKE U!" 

I guess this does explain Tiaa’s extra powers, but, I have to say, I don’t think Jacob gets to criticize anyone else for being freaky when he can turn into a wolf.

Of corse! It all made sense now! 

It didn’t all make sense. There’s still an interspecies gay threesome that needs explaining.

I was so shocked I fainted,

and also got my periods and commas mixed up,

When i woke up Jacob was in front of me and he was NAKED! He was smilling in a proper creepy way and looked totaly weird like a greasy frog thing and his male genital item was not nice like edwards it was like a horible wet mushroom.

Honest to god I love these similes. 

he stroked my knee with it and i gapsed. whatt was he going to do to me! 

I think I have an idea, actually.

but sudenly before he coud come any closer the door of the room we were in burst open!

IT WAS EWDARD!

Here to save the day! And to end the fic, because this is it for “Forbiden Fruit”: BeckyMac666 left us all on a cliffhanger, so we’ll never know what happens.

I do genuinely love this fanfic. I love how it’s written, I love the similes, I love the purple prose and the melodramatic tone, and I love my girl Tiaa. It’s a truly fantastic badfic, and I’m happy I got to introduce others to it, too.