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hazelbooksoberliving · 5 months
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Embracing Renewal: Sober Living Houses in Colorado Springs Paving the Path to Recovery
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Discover a haven of hope and healing with our Sober Living Houses in Colorado Springs. At Sober Living Houses in Colorado Springs, we believe in the power of transformation and the journey towards a brighter, sober future. Our dedicated spaces provide a supportive environment for individuals seeking to embrace a sober lifestyle in the picturesque landscapes of Colorado Springs.
Nestled against the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains, our sober living houses offer more than just recovery – they offer a chance for individuals to rebuild their lives. In this blog, we'll explore the unique aspects of our sober living community, the resources available for residents, and the ways in which our program stands out in fostering lasting sobriety.
Unveiling the Serenity of Colorado Springs: Our blog takes you on a virtual tour through the serene neighborhoods of Colorado Springs, showcasing the tranquil surroundings that make our sober living houses an ideal setting for recovery. From scenic parks to mountainous trails, discover how the natural beauty of Colorado Springs complements the journey to sobriety, providing a soothing atmosphere for healing and self-discovery.
Tailored Support for Lasting Recovery: Learn about the personalized support systems we've integrated into our Sober Living Houses in Colorado Springs. From experienced staff to comprehensive recovery programs, our blog sheds light on the various resources available to residents. Explore the diverse therapeutic approaches, life skills development, and community engagement initiatives that contribute to the holistic recovery experience we offer.
Real Stories of Triumph: Inspirational narratives from individuals who have successfully embraced a sober lifestyle at our houses will be shared. These stories provide a glimpse into the challenges faced, the resilience displayed, and the transformative power of the supportive community within our Sober Living Houses in Colorado Springs.
Community Connection and Integration: Discover the importance we place on building a strong sense of community among our residents. Our blog delves into the various community-building activities, group therapy sessions, and shared experiences that foster camaraderie and connection, creating a supportive network crucial for sustained recovery.
Choosing Sober Living Houses in Colorado Springs: For those considering a transition to a sober living environment, our blog offers insights into the factors that make our houses in Colorado Springs an optimal choice. From location benefits to program highlights, prospective residents can gain a comprehensive understanding of what sets our sober living community apart.
Embark on the Journey to Sobriety with Us: Join us on a journey of recovery and renewal as we explore the unique offerings of Sober Living Houses in Colorado Springs. Whether you're seeking a supportive environment for yourself or a loved one, our blog aims to inspire and inform, paving the way for a fulfilling life of sobriety in the heart of Colorado Springs.
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volitioncheck · 10 months
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does near every single post-canon DE fic out there need to be tagged ‘Sober Harry Du Bois’? i’m getting so tired of it.
do i expect every single piece of fan content to have to fully delve into the often-depressing always-complex topic of addiction? not really. sometimes you just want to write/read a silly fluffy romance one-shot, whatever. i get it. but i think my issue is specifically with the fact that for nearly every sillyfluffy au out there, there almost must be a ‘sober harry du bois’ tag. and it does feel very slapped-on more often than not.
i think to me it is an unconscious statement that nothing *good* can ever happen to harry du bois until he is completely and permanently sober. before solving the next big case, he has to be sober. before quitting the force, he has to be sober. before falling in love with kim, he has to be sober. before accomplishing anything, starting any sort of recovery, making any life improvement, he must first be sober.
sobriety as a goal, as a journey, and honestly as a concept in of itself is not as cut and dry as so many people think it is. and i think it would serve a lot of people well if they did some introspection on the implications of how nearly every single post-canon fic that isn’t dealing directly with harry’s addiction have him as completely sober instead.
if the plot of the fic isn’t going to touch directly on harry’s substance use (and again, i’m not demanding that every single fic should), why does that mean that sober!harry must be the default?
i think i am just tired of reading a casefic, a smutty one-shot, a fantasy au, whatever, where it almost seems that before getting on with the plot, the author feels obligated to first assure us that the harry we’re reading about is a Sober Harry. it’s established with a couple lines in the exposition, probably about his improved appearance, a tag up top, and then never brought up again; a checkmarked box. like the societal image of An Addict has completely prevented people from being able to imagine a person just, continuing to live life, while still struggling with addiction.
life happens, with all of its backslides and achievements, mundanity and changes, to people with drug addictions just as much as people who don’t. is a post-canon harry who isn’t sober not worth writing about?
i think so. i think the game we all played thinks so too. in fact i think that sentiment is woven into the game’s very core. i just wish i saw that reflected in our fan content more.
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Guide to your First Month Sober: Why and How to Quit Drinking
I was living in a coma, a series of grey days that seemed to bleed into one another like a charcoal sketch left in the rain. I knew my drinking was a problem, but I had no idea that every single one of my problems were caused by alcohol...
Demystifying the First Month Sober for the Sober Curious I’m nothing short of stunned by the dramatic changes that have occurred in my life over the course of the past 5 weeks since I decided to commit to 3 months of sobriety. I’ve been thinking a lot about how to describe my first month sober to someone else in the early stages of sobriety — someone perhaps, who can’t quite bring themselves to…
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hazelbrookcommunity · 28 days
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Effective Addiction Treatment at Hazelbrook Community Center: Your Path to Recovery and Wellness
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Addiction is a complex and challenging condition that affects millions of individuals and their families worldwide. At Hazelbrook Community Center, we understand the profound impact addiction can have on every aspect of life. Our mission is to provide compassionate, comprehensive, and evidence-based addiction treatment to help you reclaim your life and achieve lasting recovery.
Why Choose Hazelbrook Community Center for Addiction Treatment?
1. Personalized Treatment Plans
At Hazelbrook Community Center, we recognize that every individual's journey through addiction is unique. Our dedicated team of professionals works closely with each client to develop a personalized treatment plan tailored to their specific needs and goals. From the initial assessment to ongoing support, we are committed to ensuring you receive the most effective care possible.
2. Experienced and Compassionate Staff
Our staff comprises experienced and compassionate addiction specialists, therapists, and medical professionals who are dedicated to supporting you every step of the way. With a deep understanding of addiction and recovery, our team is equipped to provide the highest level of care and support, helping you navigate the challenges of addiction treatment with empathy and expertise.
3. Comprehensive Range of Services
Hazelbrook Community Center offers a comprehensive range of services designed to address all aspects of addiction and recovery. Our treatment programs include:
Detoxification Services: Safe and medically supervised detox to manage withdrawal symptoms.
Individual and Group Therapy: Evidence-based therapeutic approaches to address the psychological aspects of addiction.
Family Support Programs: Engaging and supporting families in the recovery process to rebuild relationships and foster a supportive environment.
Aftercare and Relapse Prevention: Ongoing support and resources to help you maintain sobriety and prevent relapse.
4. Evidence-Based Therapies
Our addiction treatment programs are grounded in evidence-based therapies that have been proven effective in treating addiction. We incorporate a variety of therapeutic modalities, including cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), motivational interviewing, and more, to address the root causes of addiction and promote lasting recovery.
5. Holistic Approach to Recovery
At Hazelbrook Community Center, we believe in treating the whole person, not just the addiction. Our holistic approach to recovery includes services such as:
Nutritional Counseling: Promoting physical health and well-being through balanced nutrition.
Exercise and Wellness Programs: Encouraging physical activity to support mental and physical health.
Mindfulness and Meditation: Techniques to reduce stress and enhance emotional regulation.
6. Safe and Supportive Environment
Creating a safe and supportive environment is essential for effective addiction treatment. Hazelbrook Community Center offers a welcoming and nurturing space where you can focus on your recovery without distractions. Our facilities are designed to provide comfort and tranquility, fostering a sense of peace and security.
Start Your Journey to Recovery Today
If you or a loved one is struggling with addiction, know that you are not alone. At Hazelbrook Community Center, we are here to help you take the first step toward recovery. Our compassionate team is ready to support you on your journey to a healthier, happier life. Contact us today to learn more about our addiction treatment programs and start your path to recovery and wellness.
Hazelbrook Community Center: Your partner in recovery, every step of the way.
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scottklumb · 3 months
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I am 14 years sober today!!! This day is more exciting to me than my birthday because it is the day I decided to change my life for the better and change my life forever. Getting sober was one of the best decisions I could've ever made, and I am so grateful for how my life has turned out. Getting sober has made me more determined and driven, which helps me in my daily life with my home life, mental health, and career. If it weren't for getting sober, I would still be stuck at rock bottom trying to figure out my life and find my way. My life continues to grow with new opportunities, one of which starts later this week, and I cannot wait to share more about it and document my entire experience.
Sobriety was never easy, but because of the hard work I put into it, my life continues to shine through with bigger and better things. Years ago, I would've never thought I would get married while my parents were still alive or have the success in filmmaking I have now. Without sobriety, I believe I would not be where I am today. My sobriety is one of the most important things to me in my life, and I would never trade it for anything in the world.
If you, a friend, or a loved one are struggling with addiction issues, please know that if you are willing to build the courage and take the first step to try and get sober, life can get better. Please feel free to reach out to me, and I would be happy to listen and be there for you however I can. The first steps of recovery are scary and take a lot of work, but from my experience, I can say it is well worth it.
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vickiabelson · 3 months
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Butch Patrick Live on Game Changers with Vicki Abelson
What a fun chat with Butch Patrick, aka Eddie Munster, who’s warm,  easy and so comfortable in his skin that it’s impossible to not feel like an old friend coming home. Butch makes everyone in his path feel seen, heard, and important. What a gift. 
We talked about current events… living in Arkansas, his Munster Mobiles, getting out and meeting his fans, his girlfriend, how they met, and how they keep it going. And we went back… how a 7 yr old got his start in film, had a career in TV, and at the age of 10, a starring role on one of the most iconic and endearing television shows of all time. Thank goodness Bill Mumy took a pass. There are no accidents. This was Butch’s path. 
We talked Fred Gwynne, Al Lewis, Yvonne De Carlo, The Cowsills, and The Monkees, and his amazing episode and time shooting with them at the height of all of their fame. 
There were crazy days and trouble. Pot, booze, and drugs, and then, 13 years ago, getting sober. Butch’s ease and commitment to his sobriety, and helping others. It’s a beautiful thing.  
The upside of the pandemic is that it led the way to interview celebrity gems who live far away. I hope one day to meet Butch in the reals and feel his great energy sans a screen between us, but I’m grateful as hell for these opportunities to spend time getting to know this once boy who gave this girl so much childhood joy, and as a man, moves through the world with so much kindness and grace.
Butch Patrick Live on Game Changers with Vicki Abelson
Wednesday, March 20, 5 PM PT, 8 PM ET 
Streamed Live on my Facebook
Replay here:
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handsomegentlebutch · 4 months
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DO IT FLIRT LIVE YOUR LIFE
I fell victim to the tired sleepy :c I also probably would have said some dumb shit anyway, I'm kinda glad I didn't
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Discover the numerous benefits of sober living communities for both men and women, including increased accountability, support, and camaraderie on the road to recovery. Find out how these communities can help individuals maintain sobriety and build a fulfilling, addiction-free life.
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theautumnriverleaves · 9 months
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its funny because to my addict/sober friends im the unequivocal "stable boring" friend and yet to my friends that havent dealt with that i get the impression that im considered the friend that always has some kind of drama in my life
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solidrecovery · 1 year
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what you don’t know about addiction and addiction treatment
Discover surprising addiction insights and effective recovery strategies. To learn how to take the next steps toward sober living call (707) 575-9599 or (707) 575-9100.
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nityarawal · 1 year
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3/23/23
Dear Courts-
This is my testimony for myself & Carol Lund with her husband Keith.
I was slumlorded out of Joan Grandizio's home at the "Freedom Farm," at 
59605 Grandon Road in Turweleger community of Anza, CA in January.
I started working with Joan on a referral from our handyman Ryan Wickoff. 
He said she fired him for no good reason. He was going to move in. 
So we hired Eddy Lyons - another kind handyman to investigate the trailer I was buying to tow to her farm in Sep. 
Eddy also still needs to be paid for that service! We both did this in good faith and spent a day in Pine Cove with the owner Oceana Cotton.
Eddy also witnessed this kind of abuse at Barbara Bradford's farm after her maintenance guy raped me! She stole most if my furniture and storage!
I was living at Kosh's airbnb in Pinyon at 69907 Averill Drive, Mountain Center, CA 92561 at the time. 
We found out Kosh's well water was polluted (and spreading giardia!)
I passed a parasite worm there for 1st time in life after 1000's of cleanses because of dozens of foul rentals & dirty hospitals/court violence!
Then I moved next door to Mary Schmitz's animal rescue Farm at:
62950 Pinyon Dr
Mountain Center CA 92561 
Moonrise Ranch ✨🐎🏕😊
To a dirty teepee she said was cleaned and 2 geckos crawled under stomach 1st night!
I cleaned her farm for months 24/7 (and it appeared deeply neglected for months.)
I told Mary we needed someone to tow trailer in October and she said her ex boyfriend Sean was going to steal it for himself! ): 
I asked her to advise him not to since she's a realtor and this was my verbal disclosure of my plan to buy it- because she said we could move it to her farm- and I only needed someone to tow it. 
I said it was mean and she drunkenly laughed it off. 
All her instruments were stolen too! (I have pictures of them so we can return them to rightful owners!)
She must be looting all her clients because she stole 3 guitars and all my roomful of assets since I took this job with Joan in January and won't let me go home! 
They also blocked me from water and home many times while I was at Elliots- locking me out late at night and in bad weather!
Oceana Cotton had promised to sell trailer to me or give it to Stevie and Joleen. 
Stevie now has cancer of dick & needs his home returned! (It was indeed stolen!)
Joan liked my handyman Eddy Lyons but fired him too for being friends with her "hated" tenants Carol & Keith and not obeying her "silencing" orders.
Finally, in January things were unbearable tending to Mary's 6 sick dogs while she battled alcoholism- she'd moved me to one of her 5 boyfriend's fathers home: Dan Elliot senior at:
61283 Chalet DR.
MOUNTAIN CENTER, CA
92561.
She promised he was sober- yet I had to ask him and friends not to do crystal meth in house because I'm really allergic and its illegal- cleaned needles up from whole property! I told him this condemned his house as a realtor, I'm allergic to Nazi drugs and don't want to ever see or smell it in a house! 
He was living in his Inherited Probate getting slumlorded by siblings in court stressed out of his head ill. Feds were terrorizing him too and Kosh on late payments with drone trespassing.
So I cooked, cleaned, provided food- gave him all my money and was his slave for months after being enslaved to Mary at her farm- and now Joan doxed my location to cops on brobes for months at her home & camping in snow.
I stayed one week at Dennis Sketchleys- a handyman that gave me a tick in my bed- when he slumlorded me from 54399 valleyview and tollgate/country club homes and beat me. I promised never to go on his property again but was desperate in snow! 
Then Dennis kicked me out after Mary's client Jessie was murdered at her airbnb tree house listing with Mike in Pine Cove. 
(I really need assets from Divorce Dissolution so I don't have to rent from ex-cons and field their abuse!)
Joan hired me to move to her Landers rescue with Glen; he's her 400 pound laborer that is ill from inhumane conditions- he can no longer walk- and rides machines around property hobbling to tend to animals.
There was no hot water or kitchen.
Joan offered me her "clean" Dome house. I got there after dark and took her word that it'd been cleaned for me. 
The bed was filthy and floors covered in dirt I saw in morning. 
Joan wanted me to take over Glen's job at her Lander's farm.
She said Glen was making: $400/mo at
$15/hour and she covered Phone payments, 2 days off, 25 hours a week for Morning feedings with Blankets on horses,
Checking on all cat & pippy Litters.
Puppies- are in-door & out-door with Double gates. Glen used Tractor to take
Manure to dumpster with Wheelbarrow.
She was marketing Earthen domes on camp websites. She said there was no
Kitchen which doesn't seem legal. 
I could see Glen wouldn't live long when I got there with such I'll health abd depression in substandard room even though he's my age! 
I worked for several days alongside them all training with him and encouraged Joan to keep him too. 
(He doesn't have anywhere to go and depends on his job and is very subservient and hard working despite Joan's demands. He nods as told to colleagues/tenants like obedient slave despite physical handicaps from her grossly neglected abd functionally obsolete animal shelters!)
Glen promised to put in hot water and a shower in a bathroom within a week since there was nowhere to clean up properly and it was very cold and windy. I was freaking out with no shower after 2 days of cleaning pig & horse / puppy/cat shit.
Joan asked me to come back to her Anz farm to work on contracts. 
She said I'd be doing the work exchange like Glen taking over his job. 
Joan gave me very detailed directions to her property. 
She said:
"10:30 a.m.
Come down mtn to Rancho Mirage
74 straight
10 west
Hwy 62
29 palms
Windmills
Yucca valley (call Joanne) 
Old women springs rd -Hwy 247- left (north)
20 miles to
Reche Rd. 
Curves to right - turn right
Pass
Landers post office - GPS
5-10 min away 
Left see Moose Lodge
Next White Building
Says Billfs Hall
Left on Gibraltar (if get to end of Gibralter - Gone too far- see back of property.)
1 block f/ end
About mile
Knox- ni-man - (right)
(Applegate way should say)
Pass abandoned house
Next property 
Will see 1 8th 1
(JOANS)
TELEPHONE POLE
58562
METAL EAGLE DANCER
CHURCH- JESUS SAVES
STORAGE"
So I think it's supposed to be:
58562 Applegate Way? 
Or Knox-ni-man? 
(Note: She failed to mention if it was Gibralter Ave or Dr. And they're side by side. How many have they tricked & trashed cars on tow? 
Please present my full letter!)
But the 2nd day I was there I came home one night from getting groceries and Must've passed Gibralter and took a second Gibralter on Left! 
Joan failed to mention there were two Gintralter roads parallel next to each other in my notes as you can see. 
So I end up at the end of this road with a deserted house in the sand. 
I looped around to see where I went wrong on directions and came back to dead end with abandoned house confused. 
I tried to circle out and got stuck in a sand driveway.
 I called Glen to get me and he said put car in reverse or neutral and slammed my car right into the back side of his truck! 
He promised his friend would fix it next day but failed to follow up. I've written them both many times!
I sent Joan the bill for over $3000 and she's shirking her responsibility to all employees that have worked for her.
She invited me back to Freedom Farm in Anza to shower and use her kitchen. 
She said everything was hers in refrigerator and insisted I help myself. 
She wanted to do the contract with me so I paid $40 to download a work exchange rental but she wouldnt sit down and focus on it for several days. She has added from parasites!
Her agenda was to wrongfully evict her tenants!
I told Joan I don't go to court or talk to police due to PTSD. 
She wanted me to go to the Courthouse with her to smear the tenants and I said I can't go to court. 
I asked her to drop me at a park or mall while I wait for her. 
She refused to drop me off and finally I had to get out at curb of Murietta Courthouse and wait for hours in the landfill across street. 
She had no sympathy for PTSD I have from domestic in-house terrorism of courts! 
Then she grilled me about my divorce and lack of settlements all day.
Since then I found out psychiatrist courts kidnapped me to Dr. Singh Was advertising my head for a Probate murder at Moreno Valley Hospital for Riverside Health. 
We feel Joan took bribes on all employee heads for court and is contentious.
Joan failed to sit and focus on contract all weekend because she was obsessed with wrongfully Evicting her tenants! 
I told her I can't Get involved- as my custody battle is priority of my life- and I don't have energy to deal with inhumane actions to people. 
For an animal rescue- we could all see she was being careless and cruel to all of us employees.
Joan told me her lawyer got ill visiting her and had to have his leg amputated when he was recently there and put me on a couch on the enclosed porch waiting room. She said Glen had slept there before me and didn't want me to open it into a bed. 
We feel Joan was intentionally spreading germ warfare. 
All the employees were traumatized by her lawyers diseased fate serving her and she never cleaned out his room. 
When I went into it I vomited and disease is rampant in her homes.
Joan instructed me to never speak to tenants Carol & Keith. 
She said she'd trained Glen just to nod at them. This is not my way but I was trying to be a loyal servant so followed orders. Carol & Keith were confused by my silence and scared having a stranger on property they weren't introduced to, so it put me in a uncomfortable, and compromised position.
One night I was in kitchen making tea and Joan called on speaker phone. 
Carol & Keith heard and were also in kitchen. 
Joan kept calling Carol "fatty" loudly on my phone and screaming other nasty names goading her on my speaker phone from Landers, meanwhile putting me in harms way with her upset and bullied tenants in THEIR kitchen! 
I also ate some potato salad and salami- because Joan said everything was hers- when in fact it was the tenants! That caused alot if drama! I paid Carol back $5 and decided to testify for her rather than Joan!
On Saturday- which was supposed to be my day off- Joan called and texted over a dozen times from morning to night about her tenant dispute harassing us. 
I told her I needed some rest from her drama. 
She wanted to call cops on tenants. 
I said if she needs to do that let me know- so I could leave.
 I have an extremely clean and prudent history despite many court contentious people like Joan trying to take bribes on head in ponzi scam against moms and lying in smear campaigns.
Joan knew I was just diagnosed with PTSD from officer rapes and foul play in September and I couldn't talk to them. 
She lied and said tenant called cops! 
Officer King came and tried to interrogate me and drag me in. 
I said I was just a guest- sat in my car- and refused his interrogation. 
Joan called and he wanted my phone to talk to her. 
I said "no" so he was pissed he had to use own phone and was rude to me rest of night. 
It was upsetting that Joan dragged me in anyways- and kept saying my name "Nitya" - which is very unusual and private. I texted her to never dox my location to a cop or my name again! 
I asked officer King for his card before he left and he was rude not to give it to me. 
I have sent videos of all the sarcastic, rude and nasty things he said to me to both Carol & Joan. 
It was extremely racist.
I told Joan I would leave if cops Terrorized us again and she led me to believe tenants had called- when it was her! She left a voice-mail confessing and then after lying about it.
Monday she wanted me to go to court with her again; I said "no" so she wanted me back in Landers and arranged for another laborer to come up. 
Monday morning I broke her rules -she said -by asking Carol for cops business card before I left. 
I also found out my x's atty died in a scuba diving accident last summer. 
It seemed preminiscious since I'd written a song about her called Barracuda Mamma. Sharkbait song unfolded that weekend and I was pleased with sequel I'd written and good news for my children's freedom from one atty in their pedophile sting.
I sent my new song to Joan and Carol as I was getting ready to drive to her Landers farm hours away.
Joan texted me to leave. 
It was very cold considering I'd worked 24/7 in slumming conditions for a week! She asked about my records and was looking to see if she could get me in trouble for court. 
I confessed dmv.org consulted with my ex husband and was withholding my registration even though IRS stole thousands of dollars of tax returns from 2016 divorce and also hired gay officer Enoch and Daniel Crabtree to steal my Lexus rental car on rape bribes from attys. I'd been caged by Dr. Singh 18 months of covid in shit filled rooms slumlorded out of over a dozen homes, all my assets stolen, and dmv refused to honor years where I couldn't even use Lexus Lemon while it was being serviced! Santa Monica Lexus dealership tried to steal my car while I was raped at hospitals and dmv.org refused to register it. I paid several hundred and they said that would suffice! 
They got several thousand from IRS yet they still fail to send registration sticker! Joan knew I was working for her to clean up that one thing from previous courts abuse!
I left within an hour when she said "bye," only to be greeted by officers Schmitt coming out of bushes hiding at gate. 
He cordially told me to have a good day.
 A block later Sheriff Curtis was coming down her dirt road and pulled me over. 
He said he was arresting me on registration and Cuffed and beat me into back of his car.
Carol said she was talking to officer Schmitt and he realized I lived and worked for Joan so came out and had Curtis release me. 
Curtis threatened to steal my car if he ever sees me again. 
Sargeant Protero raided my home and stole my phone & dog Blu I share with our handyman Eddy Lyons- in covid of 2020. 
Mountain Liquor say our Nazi Sheriff Brags about violence they've inflicted on me and say they wished they'd stolen my Lexus as well as my rental car when they had me raped with broken ribs in covid for 18 months of shit filled hospitals.
Mary Schmitz stole all my belongings from her boyfriend's dad's house where I was renting. 
We all feel both her and Joan doxed my location to have me murdered.
Joan wrote to say she was surprised I didn't go to jail! 
She asked me to wait all day while she sorted everything out. 
I sat in rain for 8+ hours- then she called to say she didn't want me back and laid her silencing trip on me.
I've been homeless since camping in snow. 
Mary Schmitz refuses to return assets and Joan just sends "cease & desist" messages to any reasonable communication.
We feel these animal rescues are a farce and they're actually abusing humans and animals.
I've seen 7 Dr's since with over 20 variants of parasites and bugs. 
Carol says Joan had covid and was taking parasite medication- but she failed to disclose Germ warfare! 
I need reimbursement on car damages, gas, health repercussions and a home for that week of hard work we all did. 
I need $50k in damages to cover unemployment for next year and would like to have my home back with tenants. 
We will bug bomb and disinfect it. Otherwise both her properties should be closed down and are condemned. 
We feel Joan has abused over 6 employees just since September spreading parasitic disease, gaslighting & abusive tactics; and she's not in her right mind to practice business. 
She never had a reasonable reason to fire all of us and it appears she's working for courts full time as a nazi soldier weaponizing motherhood. 
We feel 50k is a fair sum if she settles today so that we can heal at home in peace for remainder of year with kids & new puppies. 
Thankyou!
Blessings,
Nitya Rawal
Encinitasbeachhome.com
National Association of REALTORS 
Journalist @nityalakshmi108 - all docs and Grievances posted since September.
PS
More notes from Joan on Landers Job:
Ac
Porta potty
Joan Grandizio
Facebook 
3 or 4 hours a day
Dome house: 
Bigger Fridge
Table
Toaster oven ( which I bought at Anza Hardware & just returned- because I've been terrified Curtis & Nazi cops would steal my car & kill me with their hospital & court contentious bribed colleagues of atty Sharkbait circle!)
No water
Park in front of Dome
Walk
5 acres
2nd half sold
"Guanacasa" - Costarica
Transfer benefits to Costa
Start business 2-3 years
Buy a property that has a business
150k Ranchette 
Left on Gibraltar (if get to end of Gibralter - Gone too far- see back of property.)
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gigabyte-flare · 1 month
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The Devil is Real (Part 1)
Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?
Word Count: 4.2k
Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]
A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.
I hope you guys like thrill rides :3
The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail
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April 22, 2008
Sis,
I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!
With all my love,
Vince
You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.
This letter, however, says otherwise.
“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned. 
You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.
“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.
Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”
“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!” 
You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.
Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other. 
There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?
“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”
“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”
You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone. 
“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen. 
Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.
“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”
“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.
“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food. 
“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.
“And who’s going to watch André?” 
André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.
“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.
The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.
May 15, 2008
Vince,
First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.
Sis
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May 31, 2008
Sis,
I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!
Vince
You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.
The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.
Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”
Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”
You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”
You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”
“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”
“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”
You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”
You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”
You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on. 
“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.
You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.
“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”
“If you say so…” you reply softly. 
You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.
“Hey Sis, we’re here!”
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After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.
“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”
“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.
You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.
“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it. 
Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.
“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”
Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”
Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.
“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.
“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.
“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.
“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”
“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”
You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.
“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.
“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”
“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”
“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.
“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.
“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.
“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”
While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.
“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”
Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”
“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”
Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”
“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”
You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.
“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up. 
“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”
Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.
“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building. 
Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.
“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”
There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.
You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.
Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.
“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”
Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”
The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you. 
As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”
“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.
Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.
“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”
For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief. 
Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”
“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.
Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…
Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.
“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”
The man nods, “sí, claro.”
Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”
“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.
You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.
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“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”
“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”
“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.
“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”
“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”
“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”
Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”
“Thank you, Father.”
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She is perfect.
Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.
Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.
His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.
Part 2
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flowershines · 6 months
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Break up sex
Hyung Line x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Breaking up, Breakup sex, toxic friends, drinking, miss communication, jealousy,
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Heeseung:
For the past week things between the two of you became more complicated as both of you had work that took up all of your time along with loss of communication.
The topic came up before but not as a full break up, you both were saying how you needed to take a break. Which it was good when you got back together but your relationship had been spiraling and not getting any better.
Not wanting to break his heart you told him you didn’t think your relationship was going to work out as you told him that you always will love him and never wanted this to happen but it was for the best.
• “Please don’t do this to me Y/n.”
• “Need you, please.”
• “Can I have you for one last time?”
• “I’m hoping this isn’t the last time we do this.”
• “Fuck Y/n.” as tears rolled down his face
• “Can’t live without you.”
Jay:
“Why are you always hanging out with him?!” he questioned as both walked into the house, rolling your eyes, you looked at him “because he’s my friend and you act like I don’t hangout with you, I do. You just love to nitpick everything I do with him!” he glared at you as your tone had risen to what it was before.
This wasn’t the first time Jay had gotten jealous of your guy friend, you asked why he bothered Jay so much which he never responded with.
As the relationship continued you started to notice how he would never let you hang out with other guys except him and occasionally his friends, even then it was hard to hangout with them without getting glanced at every minute to make sure you weren’t looking at them.
“Why can’t I be friends with guys?” “Why do you want to be friends with guys?” “What do you mean? Men are like half of the population, you just expect me to not talk to them for the rest of my life?!” He stayed silent, “If that’s how it is then I don’t think our relationship is going to work out, it’s not that i don’t wanna be in a relationship with you. I do but I can't have you constantly controlling me.” his silence continued with tears rolling down his cheeks.
• “I will always love you Y/n never forget that.”
• “You can always come back to me, I’ll be here.”
• “I wish I could stay inside you forever.”
• “Kiss me one more time before you go.”
Jake:
Talking about your problems in your relationship with him easily turns into a screaming match, most of them had to deal with lying, work, jealousy, drunkenness and a lot of other stupid things that happened revolving around you both.
The most recent one broke your heart to even think about, that night Jake had come home drunk as he kept repeating your insecurities saying how stupid they were and then agreeing with all of them.
Not wanting to hear him anymore you went into your room and started balling your eyes out as you just couldn’t put up with arguments like these when he wasn’t even in the right state of mind ruining your time with the one person who you truly loved.
Leaving the house you had put him to bed and left a note saying ‘call me when you wake up, we need to talk.’
The next morning he did exactly what you asked, “Is everything alright baby?” “I’m coming over.” you hung up the phone and made your way over.
You explained to him how you couldn’t watch your relationship just ease away from every single fight you guys got into, not to mention him not being sober to even understand half of them.
• “I’ll do whatever you need me to do, even if I have to leave you. I just want you to be happy.”
• “I don’t want you to go.”
• “I can change, I swear, please let me fix this.”
• “If you ever need my cock in you don’t hesitate, please.”
• “You won’t even have to look at me when we fuck, I just wanna be there for you. Not some other man.”
• “You feel so fucking good, can kiss you forever.”
Sunghoon:
Going over with your boyfriend to his friend's house was never your idea of fun, they would always find ways to pick on you and tell you that Sunghoon was way out of your league along with saying that you don’t deserve him.
Bringing it up to Sunghoon was the worst part bro wanting to hurt his feelings or break their friendship but you were just confused and upset at the way they had treated you.
When you brought it up he told you that it was their way of joking, believing him you returned to their house days later and they kept saying hurtful things to you along with hitting you and more.
You were too nervous to bring it up to Sunghoon but when you finally did he was confused at your sudden change in emotion towards his friend, he didn’t understand where you were coming from.
Proceeding to tell him that you didn’t want him to pick sides and give him some space but that ‘space’ turned into weeks, one more week later he texted you that he was ready but as he told you that he wanted to stay friends with his friend.
You told him that was okay and will always be here if he changes his mind but you would not be putting up with that abuse anymore, leading to you breaking up with him.
• “Please come back if you need to.”
• “Can I fuck you one last time before you leave?”
He would fuck you as tears streamed down his face
• “I don’t know what I'm going to do without you.”
• “Can I kiss you?”
• “I love you, always and forever.”
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Ode to a Genuinely Merry Christmas
Ode to a Genuinely Merry Christmas
To everyone working to stay truly present this holiday season, the BOOM Rethink the Drink Community offers this alcohol-free inspiration from our 2022 archive – Staying sober does not have to feel dry! ‘Twas a Sober December and all through my mindran a list of excuseswhy I should drink wine – Now I know that I promisedthis month I’d be good –I’d quit poisoning my bodyand take care as I…
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hazelbrookcommunity · 2 months
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The Art of Recovery: Unveiling Hazelbrook Community's Healing Journey
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In the wake of adversity, the human spirit unveils its resilience through various forms of expression. In the tranquil embrace of Hazelbrook Community, nestled amidst serene landscapes and gentle whispers of hope, the art of recovery takes center stage. Through creativity, unity, and unwavering determination, this community paints a masterpiece of healing—a testament to the power of solidarity and the transformative nature of art.
In the aftermath of challenges, Hazelbrook Community refused to succumb to despair. Instead, they turned to the canvas of collective strength, where every stroke symbolized a step towards recovery. Like skilled artisans, they sculpted their narrative of resilience, infusing colors of courage and perseverance into the fabric of their existence.
Art, in its myriad forms, became the guiding light through the darkest of times. From the rhythmic beats of drums echoing through the valleys to the delicate strokes of brushes on canvases, every expression served as a beacon of hope. Through community-driven initiatives, such as art workshops and collaborative projects, individuals found solace in shared experiences, transforming pain into purpose and adversity into art.
The healing journey of Hazelbrook Community transcended the boundaries of conventional therapy. It embraced the therapeutic potential of creativity, allowing emotions to flow freely and wounds to be acknowledged without judgment. Through dance, music, poetry, and visual arts, members of the community found sanctuary—a safe haven where vulnerability was celebrated and scars were honored as badges of resilience.
One cannot overlook the profound impact of art on mental well-being. It served as a conduit for self-expression, offering a sanctuary for the soul amidst the chaos of life's trials. In the gentle strokes of a paintbrush, individuals found catharsis; in the melodic notes of a song, they discovered solace. The art of recovery, therefore, is not merely a journey of physical healing but a profound exploration of the human spirit's capacity to overcome.
Beyond individual healing, Hazelbrook Community's embrace of art fostered a sense of belonging and camaraderie. Through collaborative projects and shared creative endeavors, bonds were forged, weaving a tapestry of interconnectedness and empathy. In the harmony of collective expression, wounds were not just healed but transformed into symbols of unity—a testament to the indomitable spirit of community.
As the sun sets on Hazelbrook Community's healing journey, the canvas of their existence bears the imprint of resilience and renewal. Scars may linger, but they are adorned with the colors of courage and the brushstrokes of hope. Through the art of recovery, this community has not only survived but thrived, emerging stronger and more united than ever before.
In the tapestry of life, Hazelbrook Community's story stands as a testament to the transformative power of art. It is a reminder that in the face of adversity, creativity becomes our greatest ally, and unity our most potent weapon. Through the art of recovery, they have painted a masterpiece—one that inspires and uplifts, reminding us all that healing is not just a destination but a beautiful, ongoing journey.
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lovelettersfromluna · 7 months
Text
Wither
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Summary: “you made flowers grow in my lungs and although they are beautiful I can’t fucking breath”
an: this one hurt, had sad music on LOOP the entire time.
Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, SMUT, angst, Ellie doesn’t know how to communicate, reader is oblivious, mentions of marijuana, making out, dry humping, Ellie yells at reader, this one is a lil short sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!
You can read part 1 here!
Ellie was never the biggest fan of parties.
It’s pretty ironic that you and her ended up in a friend group that thrived off of shit like that. You guys were always out doing something stupid, or crashing a party to bum some weed off of someone.
But no matter how much she disliked parties, she wouldn’t ever pass one up with you.
Being with you outweighed any and all cons that came with parties.
She remembers it vividly. It was late, and the party had gone from a house full of buzzing college students to just a few people with some soft music playing in the background. Some were outside on the front porch, or in the backyard, leaving the living room to you and Ellie.
You were laying on the couch, your head resting on the arm of the chair while Ellie was sitting, your legs splayed over her lap, hands massaging your calf gently as she babysat the blunt perched between her lips for far too long.
You whined softly, looking over at her with glazed over eyes, your hand lazily reaching for the blunt between her lips.
“C’mon…you’re gonna smoke it all…” you huffed out, sitting up and scooting closer to your friend, promptly tugging the stick from between her mouth. She smirked, watching you as you took a drag from the blunt before you blew the smoke into the air, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you moved to rest your head against Ellie’s shoulder.
“These parties suck…just wanna be home with you…” she knew you were pouting just by the way the words fell off of your lips, all whiny and slurred. She gave your thigh a squeeze, the weed in her system making her feel much bolder had she’d been sober.
“I told you we should’ve stayed home…you don’t listen” she sighed softly as she recalled the way you were practically begging her to come with you to the party, knowing you would’ve been whining to her to take you home, just like you were now.
You huffed softly in annoyance, turning your head so that your face was pressed against the crook of her neck, your warm breath fanning across her skin and making her shiver, her mind far too hazy, body far too sensitive.
“Wanna go upstairs?” You asked her softly, voice barely above a whisper.
Ellie’s body froze up a bit at that, your words sounding far too much like something else, something that she’d dreamt about since she was old enough to even know about that kind of shit.
It sounds like you’re asking her to go upstairs, and fuck you.
And she knows that’s not what you meant. She knows that you just have this…way of speaking. It’s soft, and sultry, and you always pair it with that fucking giggle that literally makes her palms sweat and her stomach ache with butterflies so intense, she feels she might throw up, and it charms every fucking person you meet the second they lay eyes on you, and hear that sweet, dulcet tone fall from your pretty lips.
Ellie wished on every star that night that you actually meant it, and you weren’t just asking her if she wanted to crash at the house since you two were too high to go home, and it was too cold outside.
She couldn’t speak, of course she couldn’t speak, not when you asked her like that, so sweetly it makes her feel like her heart will burst right then and there.
So she simply nodded, giving your waist a gentle tap to single that she was right there with you. You squealed, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you quickly got up off her lap, and began dragging her up the stairs to an empty room for the two of you.
See? Every memory she had of you was like this, her following behind you, so eager and docile to follow your every move, your every command. If you asked Ellie to jump of a fucking bridge, she’d do it in a heart beat, no questions asked.
Where you went, Ellie followed.
She let out a dreamy sigh as she let you drag her to the bedroom, watching as you pushed between different people, slipped into dark hallways, all so you could find a room for the two of you before time ran out.
Ellie recalls the little noise of triumph that you let out when you found an empty room, quickly tugging her in and locking the door behind the both of you before you were passing by her to get into the bed.
She watched you, green eyes almost looking black with how blown out her pupils were. You always told Ellie that she reminded you of a cat when her eyes got like that, like those pretty brown cats with the emerald eyes? She never understood it, thinking that if anything she could be compared to a skinny, scraggly cat with fleas or something.
But nonetheless, she watched you. Watched as you crawled onto the bed after kicking off your sneakers, your movements almost animated with how perfect they were, free of any flaws. She watched the way your denim jeans stretched over your ass, your t-shirt hanging down around your hips, giving her a glimpse of your tits from behind, making her swallow thickly.
Ellie would never admit it, because she didn’t want anyone to think she was a pervert, but the amount of times she ogled at you had gotten out of hand.
You let out a soft huff when you turned around, your back falling against the bed as you stared up at the ceiling.
“I’m….Jesus Christ I am so fucking high, El…” you sighed out softly, a soft, dreamy giggle leaving your lips as your hand came up to rest over your eyes.
Ellie stood there like a statue, unable to even breath properly as she watched your t shirt pool at your waist, your soft skin peeking out above the waistband of your loose jeans.
God, she always loved that part of you.
It looked so soft, so inviting, eager to be touched, massaged, kissed…
Her lips yearned for your skin on her.
You hummed softly, moving your hand from your eyes and propping yourself up on your elbows. You watched Ellie with raised eyebrows, a soft giggle leaving your lips.
“You comin? Or are you gonna stand there all night and make me cuddle myself…” you pouted out, clearly teasing the girl.
Her cheeks burned red at your words, and it was enough to break her out of her trance of staring down at your body. She chuckled softly, her tattooed hand coming to rub the back of her neck awkwardly before she nodded, slowly walking over to the bed and kicking off her own shoes.
“Sorry…weeds got me fucked up…” she mumbled out softly, which earned a giggle from you.
“Mm…mhm…whatever, c’mere” you hummed softly, gripping her arm and tugging her up to you.
She remembers the way you spread your legs for her, tugging her between them to settle there, your warm body so inviting. She was scared to crush you, or to make you uncomfortable, but you seemingly didn’t give her a choice when you pulled her down to pressed her body against yours.
Your hands went up to lace in her hair, massaging her scalp, twirling the strands between your fingers. She could feel the way your chest rose and fell with each slow, deep breath.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be as comfortable around anyone like I am with you…” your words were a bit muffled since her ear was pressed against your chest, but she could still make everything out, your words still making her heart flutter.
Ellie hated that you were able to do that. You could tell her the most minuscule thing, and it would make her swoon.
But those things had a tendency to get far too deep whenever you were high.
She didn’t answer, instead letting out a small hum of agreement, which made you giggle.
“M’serious…you’re like….my person” you explained, voice so soft and quiet.
You always spoke to Ellie like she was the only person in the world, like you and here were the last people on earth.
She let out a gentle sigh before she lifted her head from your chest, coming face to face with you. She loved when you were like this, you looked so fucking…soft, like you were the very thing that dreams were made of.
“You’re so pretty, El…” It was clear that Ellie wasn’t the talker of the two of you. She watched you as you brought your fingers up to brush Ellie’s hair from her face, gently combing through her fringe with the most gentle touch.
You bit back a smile, as if a sudden idea had popped into your head. It was something mischievous, something you knew you shouldn’t have been thinking of, Ellie knew that look like that back of her fucking hand.
Your fingers went down to trace her lips, the outline of them, the top, the bottom, your eyes glimmering with something that Ellie couldn’t quite make out. It was so dark in the room, the shitty bedside lamp making her angry that she couldn’t see you better.
“Would you kiss me if I asked you to?” Your words were above a whisper, eyes flickering a bit as you stared at her. She could practically see the stars twinkling in your pretty eyes, and you weren’t even nervous. You showed no signs of second guessing yourself or the question you asked her, so confident in what Ellie would respond with.
Ellie on the other hand? Felt her heart stop the second she heard you.
She’d laid in her bed so many times before, dreaming of what it would feel like to have your lips pressed on hers. Every time she kissed another girl, she imagined that it was you. It was shitty on her end, she knew that, but what was she supposed to do? She’d been in love with you since she was a fucking kid.
There was no way she couldn’t compare those girls to you.
And she knew this was a fleeting moment, because you were both high, and it was probably her one chance at feeling what your lips are like, even if it is just a stupid moment between two best friends.
She doesn’t hesitate in pushing her body further up yours, pressing her lips to yours.
Ellie can feel sparks. She can feel the world stop. The way your lips smile against hers, the way you’re fingers tangle up in her hair, it all feels like everything in the world stops, like there’s nothing, and no one that could ever ruin the moment.
It makes ellie feel like she’s the only girl in the world, and it only further proves to her that if she can’t have you, she’d rather die alone.
She can’t help herself from deepening the kiss, pushing her tongue into your mouth. You started to moan, and whine against her, and Ellie was sure she’d never heard anything so fucking perfect. She’s sure that when she dies, she’ll hear the exact same thing.
Her knee was wedged between her legs, and her core was pressed against your thigh. She started grinding down into you, and it earns the sweetest fucking moan from you, and it made Ellie’s head fucking spin.
She could feel her core weeping onto the fabric of her underwear, and if she weren’t so high she’d be nervous that it was seeping out onto her jeans. But she can’t bring herself to care, not when your hips are jerking up and meeting her movements.
“Ellie..” you moaned out softly, and it made Ellie groan into your mouth.
“Fuck…you sound so good…” she sighed against your lips.
You were just as eager as she was.
Her hands came down to your waist, slipping under your shirt and massaging your soft skin while her tongue worked on yours.
She could taste you, all of you. The sound of your tongues lapping together made her want to do more, go further, make you feel better.
But she could feel your tongue slow down, and the sound of your giggle brought her back to earth.
“Slow down, cowgirl…don’t start something you can’t finish…” you sighed out breathlessly as you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against hers as your hands continued toying with her hair.
This made Ellie frown, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she stared down at.
“What? But I…” she tried, unknowing of what she’d even say to try and get her lips back on yours.
“I know baby…but you’re…”
Ellie remembers the way your words died off, how far off your eyes looked, the sad little smile playing on your lips.
“If we’re doing this…I want it to be because you actually want me…not cause you’re high” you explained, brushing her fringe from her face as you gave her a half smile.
And Ellie almost keeled over and died right then and there.
Because ever since you two had gotten old enough, you had laid in bed and explained to Ellie time and time again, how you despised the people who got high and looked to you for sex.
And while that was far from what she was doing, it looked pretty bad on Ellie’s end, anyways.
“No! No God, I swear that’s not what I’m doing. I would never-“ Ellie was quickly cut off by you pressing your lips to hers, and it was pathetic, but the moan she let out when you did was pitiful, like she’d melted as soon as you gave in to her.
“I know that’s not what you’re doing…you could never hurt me that way….” You assured her.
She watched as you settled back into the pillows beneath you, a soft, dreamy smile splayed out on your lips as you stared up at, watching her as if she were the most precious thing to you.
“Just…want it to be special when we do it…that’s all” your words were above a whisperer, and it was one of the rare times that Ellie saw you like that. So shy, so quiet, as if you were keeping the greatest secret between you and her.
That was the second thing you’d promised to Ellie. First, it was the promise that you’d marry her, then it was that you’d promised to give yourself to her.
Ellie could practically feel the most stupid, goofiest smile spread across her lips when you said that, because unlike the first time this happened, she’s able to look into your eyes, and you weren’t falling asleep seconds after admitting it to her.
You giggled softly, giving her a nudge, forcing her to lay down next to you.
“Wipe that smirk off your face…c’mon…I’m tired” you hummed softly as you tugged the covers over both of your bodies and scooted closer to Ellie. You pushed her arms apart before promptly wrapping them around your body, and hooked your thigh across her hip, keeping you as close as possible.
You let out a soft sigh as you pressed your nose to Ellie’s neck before giving her skin a gentle kiss.
“Love you so much, El…always will…” you hummed softly against her.
And as always, you made Ellie’s heart swell. She waits until she hears your breathing even out, and she knows your asleep before she pressed a gentle kiss to your head.
Because despite the promises you’ve made, and the things you’ve said, Ellie has been in love with you for a long time, and she knows that you don’t know…
“I love you too…more than you’ll ever know..” She sighed softly before she closed her eyes, trying her best to get some sleep.
It was on that night, that Ellie knew you were it for her…
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Ellie let out a sigh as she leaned over the open window of her apartment, looking out at the city, watching the people below.
She had a little white stick perched between her lips, cupping one of her hands around it as she lit the end of it before taking a deep drag and blowing it out.
Ellie didn’t always smoke, it was a habit she’d picked up recently.
Her lungs were fucked anyways, no point in trying to save them now.
She coughed, her lungs rattling. It was such an ugly sound, and it made Ellie frown every single time it came out of her body. She had bags under her eyes, her lips were chapped and she looked all around like she’d been through hell within the last year.
You. You were her hell.
And it made it so much worse, because as much as Ellie’s body and soul yearned for you, wanting nothing more than to just talk to you, to just be with you…
She couldn’t.
Because Ellie was avoiding you.
She felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She sighed, reaching behind her and grabbing it. A low groan left her lips when her eyes settled on the name at the bottom of her screen.
It was you.
Hey El, are you okay? Haven’t heard from you in a while
Miss you :’)
The texts make a shiver run down Ellie’s spine, because she can practically hear your voice when she reads them. It’s laced with that soft, pouty little voice that you do whenever you miss her, whenever you’ve gone too long without hearing from her.
It’s the same tone that’s written in every single one of your texts that she’d ignored since she received your wedding invitation.
There was a string of them in your messages with Ellie, all from your end. They start out innocent, making it clear that you were absolutely clueless to the amount of pain and suffering that Ellie had been through from the moment she got the letter in the mail.
And as Ellie continued ignoring you, the texts became more frequent, turning into you asking her if she got the letter, and if she wanted to come with you to try on wedding dresses, to you begging her to respond to you.
It killed Ellie every single time a text from you came through.
She ignored it all. Texts, calls, she was sure you’d even reached out to her father to try and get to her, which she made sure to tell Joel to not tell you about her condition under any circumstances.
Ellie groaned, shoving her phone into her back pocket as she took another drag of her cigarette, letting the thick smoke fill up her sore lungs, burning her up from the inside.
Maybe she picked it up because the pain from the smoke distracted her from the pain that the flowers brought. The cigarettes made sense to her, it was a little stick filled with chemicals and bad shit that she really shouldn’t have been smoking.
The disease however, didn’t make any sense to her.
Ellie hated things that she couldn’t understand.
She let out a sigh, taking one more long drag before she put the cigarette out in her ashtray, no point in babysitting the thing for any longer.
The only real escape from all this nonsense that Ellie had, was sleep. With sleep, came an avoidance of the world, and what it was that was going on with her life.
With sleep, came dreams, and with dreams….
Came you.
Ellie dreams were the only place where she could have you. It was the only place that she could live in a world where you wanted her back, where she didn’t have to live with sore lungs and a trash bin filled with wilted flowers.
Ellie’s dreams were the only thing she looked forward these days.
She was going to go to bed, so she could enter a world where none of this had happened.
A world where you, were hers.
Soon enough, Ellie was in bed, wrapped up in her warm sheets, staring up at her ceiling as she waited for her eyes to grow heavy.
But her phone buzzing stopped that from even starting to happen.
She groaned, turning over and grabbing her phone, expecting it to be something stupid like a spam text.
But it wasn’t. It was you.
Again.
And the text that she read over made Ellie’s eyes widen in her skull.
Can I come over? I feel like you’re mad at me or something
The words ‘can I come over’ in your terms meant that you were most definitely coming over whether Ellie said it was okay or not, so she began to panic.
She quickly opened the message and began to text you back.
You can’t come over. I have a cold
Not mad at you
It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for another message from you to come in.
Oh no!!
Should’ve said something. I could’ve taken care of you :(
Always so fucking selfless.
Your texts make Ellie’s heart tug, and she can practically feel another coughing fit coming on, a plethora of petals threatening to spill out and remind her of what she can’t have.
Another text comes in
Are you home? Can I call you?
Ellie knows she can’t run away from this one, not when she’s already responded, and she’s already knee deep into a conversation with you.
So she doesn’t respond, instead she presses your contact, and then presses the call button. She presses the phone to hear ear as she waits for you to answer.
And it doesn’t even ring two times before you’re answering. Ellie can almost see the way you eagerly press the green answer button on your phone, pressing the phone to your cheek.
“Hey…” Ellie rasps out, her voice hoarse from all the coughing she’d done. She barely recognizes the sound of her own voice.
“Ellie…” you sigh out her name, like it was the most reliving thing to hear the girls voice in so long.
The sound of her name rolling of your tongue makes Ellie smile like a stupid teenager talking to their crush for the first time.
“Hey bug…” Ellie sighed out softly, which earns the sweetest giggle from your end, the sound like music to Ellie’s years.
“Where have you been El…” you don’t waste time in getting to the nitty gritty, your voice dropping a bit, and Ellie knows you’re pouting wherever you are.
And maybe that’s what makes Ellie’s heart wither, because you sound so fucking devastated with the sudden disappearance of her, like you’re the one that’s been suffering, and not her. It makes Ellie feel like she’s ripped everything away everything that you’ve ever known and ever loved.
It sounds like you’re the one who’s suffering from an unrequited love.
“I um…been busy…sorry” it’s a sorry excuse that mumbles past her lips, and Ellie swears she can hear a gentle sniffle from your end of the phone.
“You haven’t even…you haven’t said anything about the wedding…are you even-“ you sob, and Ellie knows your fucking crying.
If it was on any other day, she would’ve cried with you. Her chin would’ve started wobbling, and her eyes would’ve welled up with tears and she would’ve sobbed over the phone with you, breaking down and telling you everything that she’s been through, that she loves you and she’s suffering without you.
But it isn’t just any other day…
And there’s something about you mentioning the wedding, that sets Ellie off.
“Im not coming to your wedding” she deadpans, the brunette filled with an overwhelming sense of anger at the mention of the ceremony.
“What, I….you’re not?” You whimper out softly.
But the sound doesn’t bring Ellie back to earth. If anything, it prompts her to go further.
“Other people have lives, okay? We can’t just all live in a fantasy world of weddings like you. I have shit to do, and I would’ve hoped that my lack of communication would’ve given you a clue, but clearly you’re too fucking dense to catch onto anything” she spits out.
Her words are hateful, and they fall from her tongue like venom dripping through the phone lines, burning you from the other end.
You simply whimper in response, your sniffles becoming more frequent, and Ellie knows she’s done it.
She’s made you fucking cry.
“Lose my fucking number, alright?” She spits out before she hangs up the phone, not leaving you any opportunity to respond, to fight back and question where the outburst came from.
Ellie knows where it came from. The sadness and sorrow that she’s held in her heart for so long was beginning to turn into anger, it was burning her, turning her into someone she never wanted to become, not with you.
She let it take over her, swallowing her up and spitting her out to become someone that was filled with hate, resentment towards you and your stupid fucking finance that wasn’t her.
She hated you for something you couldn’t control.
When she tosses her phone to the side, she begins coughing. It’s similar to the coughing fit she had the night she received your invitation, however it’s different. It’s dry, and it burns and it makes her eyes water, the tears she felt prickling at the back of her throat when she was screaming at you finally coming out.
And as she hunches over in her bed, gasping for air, fighting against the wicked cough that had plagued her for so many days and so many nights, the petals begin to come up.
When she finally comes to, and she looks down at the mess of petals on her bed, between her legs, she sees something she hasn’t seen throughout the entire duration of her illness.
The petals that came up, were different.
They were withered, wilted.
Ellie’s flowers, were beginning to die.
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