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writingblackpink · 4 years

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If You Leave Now, You Lose Everything (pt. 1)

read pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

genre: angst (sorry)

word count: 3.5k

pairing: jennie x reader

You and Jennie have been together for two years now. While the relationship has been rocky as of recently, will you find a way to make it work before it's too late?

A/N: Hi! First fic on tumblr let’s goooooo! I hope you enjoy it :) Let me know what you think!

Her voice never sounded so cold.

“This can never work.” Her voice came out tired and weak. “We both know it yet we keep going around in these circles and it’s not healthy. For either of us. Sooner or later we were bound to hit a wall.”

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill out of your glassy eyes and over and out onto your flushed cheeks. You were standing behind Jennie, maybe ten feet or so, staring at her back facing you. She was holding her bags and was only mere seconds from taking a few steps and walking out your door for the very last time.

Your mind was a mess, but you shook it back and forth as if that would help your thoughts get in formation to help sort this out. You felt paralyzed in your spot; unmoving, barely breathing for fear of being too loud and breaking the deafening silence. You didn’t know what Jennie’s next move was, and for the first time in the two years you both had been together, you were afraid.

The relationship wasn’t all bad. You met Jennie when you were out shopping. You could see someone looking at you out of the corner of your eye as you sifted through some jeans on the rack and looked up just as she averted her gaze and easily jumped back into conversation with her friends, making it seem like it was all an illusion; like you made it up. You caught her doing this a few times while you were in the store, but didn’t think much of it. You knew she was a celebrity, in fact she was on a billboard right outside the store, but pop culture didn’t interest you much so you couldn’t say you were a big fan of her or her group. Not that you didn’t like them, you just didn’t know much about them.

Her group left the store and you finished your shopping uninterrupted. After checking out nearly half an hour later, you left the store with your head down, organizing your wallet in your purse when you heard a voice behind you. Not thinking anything of it, you kept walking until you heard the voice again.

“Hey! Hey, I know you can hear me!” She exclaimed. You briskly turned on your heels and not expecting your sudden movement, Jennie quite literally ran right into you. Catching her in your arms, you couldn’t help but think this felt like a movie scene. You looked down at her for a brief second, getting lost in her eyes. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. You figured the same was happening for her because as soon as you both realized what was happening, you jolted away from each other like you touched something you shouldn’t have.

She averted her eyes when she spoke next.

“I’m so sorry. I..uh...I saw you in the store and wasn’t sure how to approach you so I ended up leaving,” She meets your eyes, unsure, “but I came back when I realized I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to ask a beautiful girl like you out.”

That was the beginning of the relationship you thought was going to last a lifetime. For a while, it really seemed that way.

You and Jennie spent the first year of your relationship in absolute bliss. You were a lawyer and she was an idol, and being from different worlds meant you were both very busy, but you made it work. Not a day went by that you didn’t see Jennie, or at least heard her voice.

Just as the two of you began to talk about moving in together, your law firm offered you a job to start and lead the new branch in New York. After long discussions with Jennie that ended in promises to make the long distance work no matter what, you accepted the position and two weeks later were on a flight to the U.S.

If you would’ve known that would be the beginning of the end, you would’ve never stepped on the flight.

The second year of your relationship was the most tumultuous year of your life. Six months into your move, you could tell Jennie was starting to distance herself. You attributed it to her growing fame and the growing schedule that came with it. You were guilty of it too. With everything that went into starting this branch, you worked many late nights and long weeks and the time zones were much more difficult to sync up for a simple phone call than you had originally imagined it would be; trying to squeeze in ten minute conversations here and there throughout the day just so you could hear her voice on the other end of the line.

You two never even argued until just a few months ago. You had started something with her on a skype call after a few too many glasses of wine and a long stretch of loneliness, and after that night the argument seemed to never end. When she came to visit or you went to visit her, it seemed forced and anyone could see that you both were holding on to the miniscule threads remaining of your relationship.

To make matters worse, because of both of your busy schedules, your visits seemed to get shorter and shorter. What used to be an entire week together slowly morphed into a half of a week together that turned into only weekend visits maybe once a month. There wasn’t enough time to work on your problems even if you realized what they were before it was too late.

Now, here you are in your New York apartment. Another weekend visit gone awry, but you’re becoming increasingly frightened that this might actually be the end this time.

“If you leave now, you lose everything.” You croaked out, voice strangled from the effort of keeping the tears in. It seemed to be a lost cause as they suddenly overflowed down your cheeks and onto the floor.

“You lose us.” You continue when Jennie doesn’t respond. You were hoping that she was searching for the voice inside her that was telling her to stay just a little longer this time.

“Our friendship.” You keep pleading, your voice lowering to barely a whisper. You could hear your own pain seeping through the words.

“We said we’d still be friends if this didn’t work. What happened? What has changed?” This sounded more like a plea to yourself, but Jennie wasn’t sure, so she turned to face you.

It wasn’t a lie. When you started dating Jennie, she promised that even if you guys didn’t work out, that you would still remain close. She claimed you were just too special to not have in her life, either romantically or platonically. You had taken her word for it because you too felt Jennie as being someone too special to just cut out of your life. How things have changed.

She met your eyes and you could see the internal torment splayed out across her features. She was hurting too.

“Honestly?” Her voice softened, barely a whisper. “I had never thought that I would actually fall in love with you.” tears were now brimming her eyes as well. She remained standing by the door, bags in hand, eyes glossy and red.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, collapsing onto the couch behind you and placing your head in your hands, hoping it would help muffle your sobs. You searched for a reasonable explanation for all of this. You guys could figure this out, right? All of the promises you made to each other had to be for something, right? You couldn’t accept that this is really how it was going to end.

“Why would you promise me-” is all you managed to get out, no longer able to complete a coherent thought in between sobs.

“I’ve never been in love like this before,” she said. Her voice was coming out stronger than before. “I didn’t know how to love another person until I met you. I barely even knew what it actually meant to ‘fall in love’. I can’t go back to being friends with you because nothing will ever be the same.” Tears were falling in tiny trails down her cheeks.

At those words, you quickly shot up from the couch and closed the gap. This time you were the hostile one. You ripped the bags from her hands and tossed them onto the couch behind you.

“Then tell me why we can’t make this work, Jennie. Tell me why you have to go. Tell me why you can’t just stay one more night and we can talk about this in the morning.”

Your pleas were sounding desperate, but you were running out of ways to get her to stay. At this point, you were just trying to slow the inevitable. You wanted to remember what it felt like to have her in your arms just one more night. You knew that as soon as she walked out the door, she’d be gone for good, and this time you wouldn’t have a date for when she’d come back.

You could feel your eyeliner melting off your face with your tears, but it was the least of your worries. You dug your index finger into her chest.

She quickly grabbed your arm and moved it down as she continued.

“I never see you. Even when we plan time to see each other it’s always a month after we last saw each other. An entire month.” She emphasized the last part, looking directly into your eyes, trying to get you to really understand. “My career-both of our careers are really just now starting to take off. If we keep this up we’ll only see each other once every six months.”

You looked down, realizing you were standing with Jennie’s hands in yours, and you watch as a single teardrop falls on them. Just like the day your relationship started, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. You don’t even know who the tear came from at this point, not that it matters anyways. You looked back up with her with sad, pleading eyes.

She continued. “I can’t be friends with you because,” her voice pitched up as the tears became more frequent, “I can’t stand talking to you knowing that I still love you. Knowing that we had something, and now we don’t anymore and there’s nothing we can do about it. It won’t work.”

Her words shot through your veins like ice, and for a brief moment you closed your eyes, hoping that the stinging would go away, or that you would open your eyes again and all of this would be a dream. When you opened them and realized that this was very real, you didn’t have any words to say. Instead you moved your hands up to hold Jennie’s face. You stood like that for a moment before bringing your lips to hers. She returned the soft pressure, but nothing about this kiss felt right. Not after all the words you had just exchanged. Not after thousands of warm, passionate kisses you had shared in the past two years. It was forced, but it brought you some more time to process everything that was going on.

Jennie pulled away first. She used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe the tears from your face, and walked past you to retrieve her bags that had long been forgotten.

“Um, I’ll, uh, call you when I get home.” She said. Her voice was low. You stood paralyzed in place again. There was some metal clinking behind you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn towards the sound. She walked up to you, facing you, but you kept your gaze at the wall just over her shoulder. She took your hand to open up your palm, place something in it, and close your fingers over the hard metal. You didn’t even have to look to know what it was.

Jennie turned to leave, looking over her shoulder one last time before closing the door. Your gaze moved to the door as she closed it, and shortly after you opened your palm to see Jennie’s key to your apartment laying between your cold fingers.

You couldn’t remember how long you stood there before your limbs collapsed onto the hardwood floor. There was no strength in your body to pull you towards the couch that sat just a few feet away from you.

It was sometime in the middle of the night before you felt your eyelids flutter and sleep overtake you on the cold ground. Your phone laid on the ground near your head, waiting for her call. Maybe once you both had time to think about this you could figure it out.

Your brain rattled with ideas on how to make the relationship work, but you couldn’t tell if they were good or not in your current state, so you slept.

#blackpink writing #blackpink imagines #blackpink fanfic #blackpink jennie #blackpink #jennie #jennie kim #gg scenarios #girl group scenarios #jnk #angst galore #blackpink angst #jennie x female reader #kpop scenarios #sadpink

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scoundrels-in-love · 4 years

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It's more like no one texts me first, no one checks in/pays notice (other than my sister, my dad,,,), if i didnt take initiative my lockscreen's always blank, i put it down and toss it and turn it and it doesnt change

And that others phones make way more pings & vibrations than mine

It makes me get this overwhelmingly hollow feeling

Sorry to have randomly dropped that in your ask box - and thank you for your kind words, youre an angel <3

Hi there love.

I am feeling kind of feverish and sick, as I think I made a post about a while ago, and I think that itself explains lack of timely reply or, if at some point, I stop making even slightest lick of sense in this.

The thing is, I get you. Very well. I do. I don’t even have family members to do that.

And I still cannot give you much different advice than before.

Maybe we’ve not met the right people in real life to connect with - be it because of the country we’re in or just the sort of environment we’re in at work or in school (since I have no idea how old you are, dear anon) or hundred other possible reasons, starting from neurodivergence to just having not-typical interests that don’t create that easy base for some social bonding, not having leveled up in social interactions enough because of whatever reasons as we grew up and so on and so forth.

But nonetheless, we can find people to fill those spaces, somehow. Gradually. I’ve had my lonesome periods where I barely had anyone, if at all. It’s not easy, to deconstruct that and to realize what is and isn’t enough so you’re already doing a lot, and I’m proud of you. It also takes courage and time to reach out and bond with people, but it can be worth it.

Most people are afraid to reach out first. If you step up and do it first, even if it is as simple as sending an ask or eager tag/comment on something they made, it can go a long way. And it won’t always end in friendship and sometimes it will create a loop where they subconsciously expect you to always reach out first, which can sting and turn into a long ache, even, but if you find a connection and if you can be honest, they’ll understand and reach out in return, too. Send that meme that made them think of you on whatsapp or discord that sends your phone buzzing.

I’ve lost people because I’ve been honest and said “I wish you would’ve reached out too, I wish you’d have thought to give without me begging for it”. I’ve also gained stronger friendships for it.

There is no script for finding people in your life that know you and want you in your life, and there’s also the truth that relationships are rivers that can run dry, and it’s no one’s fault that both of you have not seen rain in years and are tired. But even when there’s nothing but a canyon in your heart left, it’s still a special place and echoes with memories of river it once was. It’s been worth it, for what you’ve learned and what you’ve been, with them.

None of this is magical, complete solution to loneliness, because I still drown in it some days, but maybe it’s a start, a crutch, a held out hand that can help you through the times when you feel most lonesome and create times that are lighter and happier and where you don’t gauge how much you’re receiving comparing to others, because what you’re receiving fills you with joy.

You have courage to come to me, even if only on anon. I believe you have the courage to create friendships and learn how to hear the notes of those few connections above the snuffing void all around us. I believe in you.

#rainy's opinions #long post #i wrote this for hours honestly cause brain sizzling on low fever #I hope you see it #Anonymous #sent on a cloud

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artisticflutter · 5 years

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Enemy is my Friend - Part Two

The second part of @red-rose-draws secret santa gift! Merry Christmas!

Rating: G Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance, AU, Friendship, Family Bonding (briefly) Pairing(s): Love Square Summary: According to Plagg, Ladybug was supposed to be Chat Noir’s partner, and maybe if his dad hadn’t found out he had the ring, it would’ve been that way. Warning: Enemies!AU. Also, there’s mention of weight loss later on.

According to Plagg, Ladybug was supposed to be Chat Noir’s partner, and maybe if his dad hadn’t found out he had the ring, it would’ve been that way.

His first outing declaring himself her enemy all those months ago didn’t go so bad. And for a while, he’d say things went pretty well. Sure, they might be fighting, but he couldn’t help driving Plagg insane, talking over and over about how incredible that girl really was despite playing a villain, but Ladybug was a real superhero. Sometimes, he wished he could’ve been a hero alongside her, but he chalked it up to the bad luck that ran his life.

It didn’t take that long either for his luck again to run everything straight into the ground.

Still, sitting on the balcony with this girl, quietly eating a croissant, it felt like this had been a long time coming.

“Lost in thought there, Kitten?”

He gave a start, shifting over as Marinette sat beside him wrapped in one of her fluffy blankets. When she gave him a smile, he found himself mustering up his own in return. His belt tail’s buckle lightly clicked against the ground.

Ladybug had originally brought him here just because Marinette wanted to thank him during some of the akuma attacks, but then, she’d invited him back. It confused him why she was being so hospitable to someone who was Paris’s enemy, but he found himself making subsequent returns despite the worries of waltzing into a trap. Chat Noir would blame his isolation though in the end, unable to remember the last time he’d talk to anyone cordially.

… Almost like a real friend.

He was eager to visit more and more. Sometimes, he got to sit in the blanket with her; some nights, they talked for hours; but a few nights, they also just sat in silence. She drew and he’d watch or risk taking a nap. However, there was always food for him whether it be leftovers from her family’s dinner or the bakery itself. She didn’t need to do this for him anymore, but it was nice feeling like someone cared.

Slowly, his head dropped onto her shoulder and he sighed, feeling his ears droop on his head.

Could it stay like this?

“Hey, Chat?”

“Mmm?”

He felt the warmth of her fingers seep through his suit, her hand resting on his own. Would it be weird to say she smelled nice?

“A little,” she giggled. His face burned – he hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud, but she took it in stride. “Anyway, could I ask you something?”

“… Sure? What would you like to know, Princess?”

Feeling her shift, he turned and wrapped his arms around her, whining ‘Noooooo’ to keep her from pulling away. That nickname always garnered a different reaction, but he wouldn’t fall over this time! He grinned while she rolled her eyes, flashing back a brief smirk.

“Silly cat… Why do you fight Ladybug again?”

The mood shifted from playful to somber and he hesitated to answer. He didn’t know if there’d be any harm in telling her, but he could imagine the reaction when his father found out.

If his father found out.

“… Someone important to me went missing.”

He bit his tongue lightly, still unsure to say more. Though he feared the repercussions, he felt tired from everything. Lying on her lap, his arms still loosely secured around her waist, didn’t make the feeling go away either, but it did make him feel safer. Curled fingers proceeded to comb through his hair, coaxing a wavering purr from his throat.

Akumatized victims were the only way to draw Ladybug out, his father explained, while they sat at the table for the first time in, well, ever. Since his mother’s disappearance barely a year ago, Gabriel had begun shutting himself away and barring Adrien from visiting. They had to be scheduled through Nathalie as to ‘not disturb him’, and keep them within the hours he was expected to be studying or with tutors. When Adrien finally managed to see his dad for the first time, he had asked if he could do anything to help – maybe relieve him of some company work – or anything to spend more time with him.

It worked, sort of.

He scheduled a second meeting when that first ended up changing nothing, asking to attend public school.

Unsurprisingly, his father denied that request in such a tone that Adrien didn’t consider asking again.

The desire and need for interactions with people grew. Chloé’s visits had become so few that they failed to staunch the loneliness growing in his heart. Trying to take matters into his own hands, Adrien set himself up to attend a local collège and snuck out between his History and Maths sessions, but helping an old man allowed the Gorilla and Nathalie to catch up.

One stern lecture from his father later, the first akuma appeared. Plagg appeared and his dad just happened to walk in.

The rest was history.

His dad revealed himself to be the one behind the akumatized victim, taking on the moniker of Hawkmoth with the Butterfly Miraculous’ powers. Together, if they could acquire the Ladybug Miraculous, they’d be able to wish for his mother to come home. Whatever happened to her would be a bad memory – they’d be a complete family again.

How could he pass up the opportunity? He wanted to see his mother again.

Without the need to hide Hawkmoth anymore, Adrien found himself at the dining table with his father trying to plot their next strategies to gain Ladybug’s Miraculous over dinner. It was great! They hadn’t had meals together in months, and Adrien ignored the niggling feeling that this was wrong.

He laid two simple rules for his dad for their move forward: 1. Adrien’s only target was Ladybug, and 2. unless the akumatized was capable of controlling others, he wanted no civilians harmed.

While rule one was never an issue, Stormy Weather and Evillustrator were two akuma early on that violated rule two. They were lucky that Ladybug’s power could fix any damages done, but the thought of anyone accidentally injured or – heaven forbid – killed made his stomach churn. It was already enough they terrorized the city for a pair of earrings. Mom would be disappointed with those actions and he could live with that, but she’d never forgive them for harming innocent people.

“Hey, Plagg?”

“What?”

Adrien grimaced at the kwami’s usual indifferent tone, used to it, but hating it on principle. Ever since awakening from the ring and the whole villainy route, Adrien knew how much Plagg hated everything and everyone. He could probably do more than growl at Adrien, too, but he never did so the boy often used him as an echo chamber. It made things feel less lonely.

“If I just asked Ladybug, do you think she’d give me the earrings? Just long enough to make the wish?”

Gleaming acid eyes and thinned pupils turned, locking with Adrien’s eyes, but Plagg said nothing for a minute. His mouth slowly curled into fanged sneer and he returned his focused on his Camembert cheese.

“No way. Ladybug’s not going to let you or anyone have her earrings. Doesn’t matter your reason and doesn’t matter how kindly you try to ask.”

“But why?”

The snort was typical – critical and harsh with his voice just above a hiss.

“You don’t need to know.”

“I’d like to know.”

“Too bad.”

Figuring one day he’d try asking Plagg again, Adrien kept on fighting Ladybug whenever his father made another akuma victim, enjoying each opportunity to be outside and then come home to have a meal with his dad. No matter what they tried, Ladybug’s Lucky Charm always helped her win the day. Adrien should’ve been annoyed like his father was, but he couldn’t help seeing her abilities as incredible – miraculous, even? Ah, if only he had someone he could tell that one to. But joking aside, she saved the day no matter how many people – akumatized or otherwise – faced her. And he’d probably be doing the same at her side if his father hadn’t caught Plagg.

Why did he find himself lingering on that fact? And saving people when he had to, it felt better than what he was doing now – or maybe that wrongness he felt before was growing stronger.

Could it be wrong to want his mother back?

He tried not to think about it anymore, but then he made a mistake.

Adrien wasn’t sure why his father thought Simon Says was a good idea. Considering who Simon’s target was and his powers, taking his side would increase the danger, but his father didn’t listen. Ladybug came to the mansion herself to help seconds before Simon and his army arrived, and though Adrien doubled back after pretending to escape, he watched from the rooftops - eyes bulging – as Simon Says’ army carried his father away.

Stick to the plan, he told himself repeatedly, but sticking to the plan was not possible when Simon ordered his dad to jump from the TVi Station’s roof.

Father had not been pleased by the turn in events. Adrien later stood in his bedroom, staring at photos of his mother while his mind replayed his dad shouting at him for his incompetence. Not only had it been his fault they didn’t get the earrings again, but Ladybug had stolen two things from the house: some old book and a pin? Adrien hadn’t known about either object before or why they were so important.

Ignoring stinging eyes, he continued looking at the smiling photos of his mom.

It would be fine. The two of them would just have dinner later and plan the next move like always. And if he kept his mind on their goal, he’d be able to withstand any more outbursts his father might have – it would be worth it in the end.

But his father didn’t show up to dinner that night, or the next.

Akumas continued to occur and Nathalie would inform Adrien to go out as Chat Noir.

One day, he saw his father in the hallway, but he walked into his office without saying a word.

The holidays came and passed with Adrien celebrating in the dining room alone, and in that moment, the mansion was back in the days before he possessed the ring. The only difference now was Plagg, but Adrien watched the kwami purposefully phase out the window, disappearing into the snowy night.

Adrien wanted to confront his father, but he never did. Instead, the day his home school lessons were to resume, he heard glass shattering on the opposite side of the grand foyer. Cautiously, Adrien risked venturing into Gabriel’s office and gasped. Broken frames and glass strewn about, but the windows intact, he was bewildered at the destruction. But that was nothing as he watched his akumatized father rise from the floor via a secret elevator.

He didn’t get the chance to yell before the book hit him.

He avoided his father out after The Collector, or tried to anyway.

Wasn’t it ironic then when his father began talking to him again and pretending like nothing had happened? Adrien knew his dad hadn’t forgotten it. He’d also become acutely aware of his laughter whenever it echoed out of the assumed Lair now. What was he supposed to do though? The Gorilla and Nathalie acted like this was par for the course, but he couldn’t do the same – not with the influx of akumatized people interrupting his schedule, resulting in cut times to his studies and modeling.

Don’t fall behind.

Don’t be late.

If he did everything, his father wouldn’t akumatize himself again. His father wouldn’t try to akumatize him either… maybe.

Was Plagg actually showing him some concern now?

No, he had to be imagining things. No one was worried about him in this house.

Mom would be worth it in the end though, right?

Adrien ignored his growing exhaustion and bouts of dizziness, and he tried to get the earrings. He tried so hard, but found himself that fateful evening being held down by Ladybug and her fingers grabbed his ring. Watching her, he wanted to scream, to beg, to do anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

If she took it, maybe this nightmare would be over.

Staring at the ring with its blazing green paw pad in the center, Ladybug had truly given him mercy by bringing him to the patisserie. How he’d missed so many meals and not realized it, he wasn’t entirely sure. He’d been stuck inside his head for so long doing his best to make everything perfect.

“Hawkmoth said I could wish for them back, but I need Ladybug’s earrings to do that. And I need them back…”

His felt his arms tense and his hold around her tightened.

“Everything’s wrong at home and I’m not sure how much longer I can say this is worth it. But if I give up, I don’t know what’ll happen. When Ladybug brought me here that first night, I wish she had taken my ring.”

“Chat…”

Burying his face into her side, found himself engulfed by darkness, Marinette having taken her blanket and wrapping it around them both. He imagined the headlines reading that the notorious villain Chat Noir was discovered crying on some bakery’s roof, but he doubted such thoughts had gone through her head.

Marinette was empathetic and kind – brave too when the time came for it. Her actions reminded him so much of his mother; she was keenly aware that he needed an affection that had begun to feel unobtainable in life. She allowed him to cry himself out and curl against her legs, and the exhaustions from the day made his eyelids feel heavy.

Protected and warm, Chat Noir – Adrien fell asleep, dreaming of a future where he’d feel happy and whole again, and with Marinette by his side.

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lesbianboobees-blog · 5 years

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My coming out story

This is long, but to be fair, it took me 10 years. My thoughts may be a little scattered, I dont think I've told this story all the way through before.

I was 18, a senior in high school. I was that goth kid but I was also in the honors and AP classes. I mainly hung out with a small group of other goth/punk kids, a few were open lesbians. One of them, we will call her shannon, ended up being in my Spanish class. We got pretty close, and she started hitting on me. I had always liked her, and I realized maybe I did like her more than a friend. My senior year, a lot of other things had happened to really bring me out of my good girl shell. "Dont knock it till you try it" was basically my motto. So, eventually I slept with shannon. It was ming blowing. There was some typical lesbian triangle drama after that, so we never did it again or had a relationship. One time thing. I didn't really even consider that I only liked women at that point. I just thought "well, I guess I like girls too." And that was that.

My senior year, I had lost my virginity (I had been raised catholic and believed in saving sex for marriage), on a separate occasion I was sexually abused, and I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, type 2. A lot was going on. So I just decided to identify as bisexual.

As a note, I fully support all bisexuals. It is a real thing, it isnt a phase, or any of the other crap people say. In my case, dealing with bipolar disorder and everything else was already too much, I wasnt ready to deal with my sexuality.

I dated another lesbian in my group of friends for about a month. I dont even remember why we broke up, but we stayed friends after. After high school, I went back to dating guys because it was easier. I just got too nervous around women. (Yup, definitely gay). Now, I think bipolar disorder has had a big effect on this story. One of the parts of bipolar that isn't talked about is an extremely high sex drive. Since I wasnt very nervous around men, it was easier to fulfill my sex drive. I am still ashamed of that now, but shit happens. I got engaged to a guy a year and a half after graduating high school. But I freaked out about marriage and cheated on him. The one and only time I have ever cheated. I will never do that again. On to more relationships with men. I broke up with every single guy I was ever with. (Theres yet another sign). I had slept with a few more women, but still hadn't had another relationship yet. I was going to community college, and attendance failed most of my classes. Eventually I decided I wanted to become an automotive mechanic (gayyy). I moved to Arizona to go to a technical school. 2 year program, and I did not live in the school housing program. The whole school was probably 95% men. There was one lesbian I was friends with, she was in a toxic relationship she refused to get out of. So, I was with guys again. Near the end of the program, there was a party I went to. this straight girl admitted she had a major crush on me. So, we slept together. After.. she bowed to me. Full on kneeling on the floor bowing. I was sure she was just drunk and being silly. But unlike anyone else I had been with in school, I was proud of being with her. (Oh the gayness). There was one other girl I had met that I wanted to be in a relationship with, but she didn't seem interested in anything more than sex. I knew I was probably leaving after I graduated anyway. So there wasnt a good reason to pursue it.

I graduated, and moved back home. It was a rough time. All my friends were gone. They got married, or had kids, or moved away. It was so lonely. Going from having so many friends around me for 2 years.. to zero... depression hit hard.

A guy I knew from college stayed in touch and showed interest in a relationship. A few months later, I was moving to Ohio to be with him. Worst years ever. The depression was so overwhelming, and he was clueless. I was lucky enough to find a roommate so I could break up and move out. Eventually I got a job back home and went back. Again, no friends. Same damn story, a guy at my new job showed interest. I guess my thought process was "I just need to try different types of guys". Another relationship. During this one, my only gay cousin died in an accident at the age of 34. It absolutely crushed me. I was not close with him, and barely talked to him, and it took me a long time to realize why it hit me so hard.

After I ended that relationship, I reconnected with my high school ex girlfriend. He was transitioning and wanted my support. He introduced me to his friend, we will call her Jenny.

Now, this part still stings. But it was the relationship that changed things for me in a lot of ways. She pointed out things from my past that were exceptionally gay. And that got me thinking. Really, that was the only good thing to come out of that relationship. After 8 months together, I slowly found out she is a sociopath, pathological liar, and lied and manipulated her way through absolutely everything and everyone. I broke up with her after 10 months. Great first real relationship with a woman. Anyway.

2017 and 2018 (age 26 and 27) was when I really took a good look at my past and considered my sexuality. There were soooooo many things that made me think. I went from " maybe I like girls more than guys" to "holy crap, I'm so fucking gay". But at the same time, I was trying to heal from the deep scars left by that toxic relationship. I started working out at the gym, trying to lose weight, and just focusing on bettering myself. It took me therapy and a little over a year to finally feel like I had healed enough to trust again. Meanwhile, I haven't dated or slept with anyone.

I am 28 now. 10 years from my first gay experience, and I want to have queer friendships and maybe start dating again. I am overcoming the shame of being gay that was learned in my catholic upbringing. 2 of my 3 siblings know I'm gay, and are fine with it. I'm still not out to my parents. I have been living with them so I could pay off my student loans. I'm so close to getting them completely paid off. This year, my goal was to move out and come out to my parents. I dont think my dad will react well, and i would rather not be homeless. Until i can move out, i want to make friends. The vicious cycle of loneliness leading to relationships is going to stop.

I also wanted to mention, when I identified as bisexual, I felt like I wasnt accepted into the LGBTQ community. There was a few women I would've loved to be in a relationship with, but I got the vibe that they werent interested because I was bisexual. I realize now that i may have made that up as an excuse. But I understand the bi struggle. And I fully support every letter of the LGBTQIA community. I dont want anyone to feel like they dont belong here. We are stronger together, and can make a huge difference in each others lives.

That's why now identifying as a lesbian, I feel like a baby gay. Even though I have experience with women sexually, everything else is new. I've heard people say that our generation has had it so much easier coming out, mainly because of the internet. I did not find this true. I was so lost, I didn't even know where to start, or what to search. I mean, you can't search anything lesbian without filtering through a fuckton of porn. I didn't know how to find the information I wanted. I didn't even know what I wanted to know. I felt (feel) like a teenager all over again trying to figure out who I am and how I fit into this community.

And that's where this blog starts.

Please feel free to comment, I'm always open to advice and conversation. Also, please be respectful, it feels very vulnerable putting this out there. But I feel it is important to share these stories. If just one person feels less alone and can relate, it was worth it to share.

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adarlingfamily · 6 years

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THIS S I L E N C E ENDS NOW.

What has been done unto me, will be silenced no more.

I need to get this off my chest.

It has taken me years to get to a place where I feel safe enough to write these words. These are by the far the hardest that I've ever had to write, but now that I have children of my own their innocence gives me the strength to speak up and share what has happened to me. I hope my story can help others speak up who have been too afraid or ashamed to share in the past. No longer will I sit in silence letting these memories eat me up inside. If I can protect just one person from the abuse I suffered, then all of the pain will be worth it.

Let me start off by saying I'm not here to call out people and name the people who abused me. Karma takes care of that for me. I have spent enough time thinking about hurting those who hurt me. But what does that prove? That I am no better than they are!

Hurting someone needlessly is an act of weakness, not strength. No, I am here to heal, to share, and to support others who may feel like they are dealing with their own sexual abuses all alone.

You are not alone! You are so much stronger than you can even imagine! You are capable of healing! You are loved! You deserve to be loved in a caring and respectful way!

Growing up I had a wonderful early childhood. My family didn't have very much money and we moved around a lot but as a child it didn't matter that much to me. Playing outside, riding bikes, and soaking up the sunshine with my sister was what was important to me.

At a young age I became fascinated with ballet, theatre, and performing arts. Determined that I would become the next prima ballerina I begged my mom to enroll me in a dance school. Despite it being a stretch financially they could see my passion for dance. I loved ballet. It made my soul sing. I loved the colorful tutu's, the beautiful costumes, and the grace of the older dancers twirling around on pointe. It all seemed like magic to me. I just wanted to be part of that world so badly.

That is, until I turned 8 years old. I went from a Montessori school to a public school for the first time. That change might not have been so dramatic if my classmates had been different, who knows? In public school I stuck out like a sore thumb. I remember getting in trouble the first day of school for getting up to go to the bathroom during class. It didn't make sense to me that you had to ask to use the bathroom. I had always been trusted to take care of my own body. I thought to myself, “Where else would I be going?” Unfortunately that first day of school would not be the end of my bathroom torment.

Puberty was hitting us gals hard. Looking back on it all I wish I could just tell myself, "Who cares what she thinks!” “You are beautiful just the way you are!" She was being mean to me because she was jealous. But I considered her more beautiful than I was. She was so exotic and tan compared to my white flesh. She was different, like I was but somehow I thought her kind of different was so much better than mine. I felt all alone, even though she was my "best friend" at school. As my chest blossomed so did her jealously. She started to bully and verbally rip apart another A-Cup girl like myself. I felt her turning on me. I didn't want her to bully me too so I went into hiding. Okay not literally. I hid my body and started wearing baggy shirts and sweatpants all the time. Hoping and praying she wouldn't notice my growing chest I clung on terrorized by this beautiful nightmare.

Meanwhile what feels like every time I needed to go pee at school I am cornered, bullied, and verbally harassed in my bathroom stall. These two girls had it out for me. I was painfully shy already so even the thought of someone peeping in between the cracks of the stall was mortifying enough, but oh no, these two took it to the next level. Standing on each toilet of the opposite stalls these bullies surrounded me with their peering eyes and creepy comments like "nice ass" which was a lot for a kid straight out of a completely different world. My bubble had been shattered. Day after day I dreaded having to go to the bathroom. Trying to seek refuge I would pick the last stall so at least I would have one side of privacy while I looked up terrified that any minute their eyes would POP up! Waiting, staring, taunting and terrifying me. I stopped going to the bathroom at school. The walks back from school became long enough to feel like torture as I continued to hold it.

Don't forget. I'm still doing ballet and since puberty has hit I have put on a little bit of weight. I am really serious about ballet, still following my dream of becoming a prima ballerina! After years of performing Nutcracker, Peter Pan, and other various seasonal shows I was picked to do my own solo performance. My dance teacher whom I loved and admired like a mother, danced with me. Her belief in me kept me going. Our "Mother, Daughter" dance moved the crowd to tears. I remember feeling so alive in that moment like "I was born for this!" Soon I was paying for such an electric performance.

Yet another "friend", a girl I met in ballet class had started to bully me about my recent weight gain calling me a "fatty" and a "lard ass" talking about how my butt jiggled when I walked during our ballet class. I was already embarrassed enough having to squeeze into my snug leotard and tights in the changing room. At that point things escalated to a whole other level leaving me contemplating suicide. This friend of mine was 'fancy', they lived on the lake in this big house with a boat and bbq's, an entire room just filled with awesome toys, and plenty of summer fun. Or so I thought at first.

This one is a tough memory to write about because it hits so damn close to home. Everything is so connected, now as I piece these repressed memories together 19 years later.

Our moms were friends and they loved chatting so we would go over to their house often. Seemed like at least once a week. During that time the older neighbor boy took a liking to us girls and after going swimming we were upstairs in her mom's bathroom getting ready to wash up. The neighbor boy burst in the door right as we had taken off our stinky lake suits and were hopping into a huge bathtub filled with fun bubbles. Snapping pics in between our screams of protest "get out creep!" Finally after about a dozen or so nude photographs are captured he leaves.

But no hold on, it gets worse. Sleepover nights with that friend become a barrage of unwanted late night games of "playing doctor". I couldn't take it anymore. My own "best friend" bullied and molested me (all of this on top of being sexually harassed and bullied at my new school!) I quit ballet. Made up some lame ass excuse and quit. Threw it all away, years of practice and training. I needed to escape at least one bully in my life. I didn't feel like I had any choice. Finally after what feels like a century, the year of terror ends and I beg my mom to put me back in Montessori. Thankfully back at my old Montessori school I have a moment of calm from dealing with a bunch of sexual abuse at school. Sadly, because of what had happened to me I have a really hard time making new friends. I just couldn't trust anyone. I didn't want anyone close to me. I graduated from sixth grade feeling lonelier than ever, dreading what I knew was about to come.

Seventh grade. A new school...a public school. My worst nightmare was coming true again and this time their was no where to hide. No more Montessori. (With only a few Montessori schools back then, they only went to 6th grade)

Time to face my demons again. Deep breath.

A moment of calm and for a minute there I'm invisible. Everyone has already made friends with each other in 6th grade and no one wants to hang out with me. Which is okay for a little bit but it gets kinda lonely after a while. I finally make a friend and we are best buds! Going to the mall, watching movies together, laughing, giggling, and having a great time together.

Without this friend I wouldn't have known how to let happiness and love into my heart again. I know we haven't talked in a while but I want to thank you. Your friendship and kindness in my time of darkness saved me. But even during times of light, darkness still found me... this time during the bus ride home.

Deep down, I was still depressed and I wanted to be away from everyone and honestly just be left alone. This guy in my grade started getting really pushy and weird about sitting next to me. He insisted on sitting by the window and as I stand up to protest he pushes me down and rubs his crotch in my face, he sits down, looks out the window, then looks back at me with a look that would have turned water into ice. At this point everyone's getting in the bus, it's loud and chaotic...EVERY DAY he would seize his perfect moment to strike. I rode in fear. I was so painfully shy and honestly terrified of what this boy (a major bully) would do to me if he found out I reported him to anyone. Coming from Montessori school we didn't have much of these kinds of issues so I did not know how to respond. Instead I let my silence wash over me while I suffered the daily grind.

Eighth grade. At this point I'm so scared and confused about what love is. Despite moving all around town I've been madly in live with a childhood friend and finally I get the chance to go to the same school. Sadly because of all that has happened, I have all of this rage pent up inside of me. One day during a silly game of kickball I explode like a volcano, in a fit of rage I unleash all sorts of swear words and my friend floats away from me forever. After that day I've come to realize the true stinging power of the silent treatment. As far as he was concerned I was invisible and as he looked through me, not at me! I lost hold of one of the rare feelings of love in my childhood. He was one of the only constant joys in my life. If we were hanging out everything was groovy. Running around in the rain, playing tag amongst the plants in the garden, dripping paint all over my head as we paint your little play house. I can still feel the tears running down my cheeks after getting off the phone for the last time. You didn't want to be friends anymore. You were my rock, someone who knew me before all of this abuse happened. I had never felt more alone.

My depression worsens and I can't imagine what is about to happen in high school. Images on the TV tell me that all the girls wear high heels and looks much older than they are. I have my first day of school outfit picked out months in advance. A grey off the shoulder long sleeve shirt, skinny jeans, and a pair a red semi high heels. I felt so grown up, so mature, and yes finally so exotic and beautiful. I soon discover that actually pretty much no one wears high heels to school unless you are going to a dance. Oh so awkward. Thankfully my mom has literally forced me to do a sport and although I'm not into sports I really love to swim. (Thank you Mom!) Having the supportive comments from the older teammates really helped me overcome my paralyzing first day of school fear.

Picture this, its freshman year. The first day of school and I'm late to class after lunch because, well I'm not really sure where my class is. I don't have time to change as I burst through the door to my weight training class. It's warm up time and everyone's doing push ups. Without a word, high heels and all I join in, digging deep, cuz even though I'm a girl I want them to know I belong here.

What coach says next warns my heart to this day "Oh come on boys, this girl just showed up and she can do push ups better than half of yah AND SHE’S WEARING HIGH HEELS!" Even though I felt silly wearing those stupid shoes all day, it was all worth it for that one moment.

I am a strong women and that day I discovered my hidden power.

Through the greatest times of darkness my light still finds a way to shine. I'm focused on school and swimming and soon it's my sophomore year. Thanks to my moms initial push, I've realized how much I love swimming and being focused on that helps immensely with my depression. My swim coach rocks and is a serious influence on me finding my inner and outer strength.

I will soon need every ounce of that very thing. Evil takes on many different forms along this journey. He's my first "real official highschool boyfriend" and I'm really excited. At the time all the girls in my close circle were obsessed with him and I felt honored that out of everyone he chose me. Soon I would regret that very thought. Quickly things started to unravel, sexually he was all pent up, his mom went on every date with us, she was always there. I'm still a virgin at this point but the sharks are circling in the water, and boy oh boy do they smell blood. Now I need to take a moment.

I've been scared shitless to share this next part of my story for years. Silently suffering and distancing myself from my quite large family. I'm not afraid of what everyone will think. I regret not protecting my other family members. What happened to me was not okay and has taken me so long to stop blaming myself for what happened, finally to get it out and more forward in my healing work.

The Internet played its part in helping along this next development as I sped closer to my sweet sixteen. I had started chatting with an older family member on aim and soon things got sexual. I was seduced by the draw of being something that I wasn't through the Internet, I pretended like I was actually "cool" enough to have been to a couple party's (soo not true!) and things escalated from there. It seemed innocent at the time, he wasn't really touching me so I felt safe sitting at home and yeah eventually turned on. No one had ever talked to me like that and even though I wasn't attracted to my family member it felt nice to capture someone's attention. I just wanted to be loved. My family was falling apart, and as my parents turned on each other I tried to deal with that, all the while adding another huge load of baggage of my own. This family member was staying with my grandparents and my sister and I consistently spent the night during the weekends. He would often say "it's okay, we're not actually related" but even so I was not ready for what was about to come. First was the aim conversations, then he'd pin me down or pull me into him on the couch for a kiss. At first that was all it was, a tease. Lots of talk, some kissing and then the finale. He had been talking a lot about how he couldn't take away my virginity. I knew he wanted me badly but would not do anything until I wasn't a virgin. One night after staying out late at a party he came home, took a shower and then came into my room. More kissing. "Take off your panties" he demands Not happening. I just started my period and my panty liner is my only protection as he pulls me on top of him. He's kissing me and then putting something in my hand, suddenly with disgust I realize why it's growing. I had never even touched a penis before and was instantly revolted. His hands are everywhere and as his fingers find my panty liner and starts stroking, I shut down. All of my blood runs cold, thankfully my flight response kicks in and I am able to scramble away. (Thank you for not chasing me down. I think you knew what you were doing was wrong but couldn’t help yourself because of what trauma was going on in your life. Know this, I forgive you) Now don't forget I have a super sexual boyfriend constantly being repressed by his mother presence around us. It's summertime. He has his parents house to himself and he wants me to come over. My parents are away at a concert but thanks to aim I am able to get ahold of my family member (actively molesting me) to drive me over to my boyfriends house. I tell my sister I'm going for a walk and I get dropped off. I can still remember exactly what I was wearing. A t-shirt, jeans, and sandals, nothing scandalous. He leads me through the dark house from the back door to his bedroom. This is not what I pictured for such a sacred event. My boyfriend tells me to "take off my pants and get on top". It hurts! I say stop, instead he goes harder and a knife from his headboard falls on his head.

No romance, no candles, no passion or pleasure. In less then 15 minutes I'm calling my family member to come pick me up again. During the ride home my family member taunts me about how quick that was, and tells me how he could satisfy me, obviously unlike my boyfriend. My sisters mad at me when I get home, my walk was too long. I take a shower because I've been told to do so by my boyfriend. I don't realize the gravity of the situation right away. None of my close friends had lost their virginity, so I thought it happened like that for everyone. I had said yes initially to what my boyfriend was doing, my consent ended when he started to hurt me and did not stop. It isn't until senior year that I realize I had been raped.

Junior year I fall in love with someone who is not mine and I suffer the consequences. It's been years and I finally feel that warm fuzzy kind of love and am willing to see past all sorts of flaws in a person and situation that was not good for me. Yet again I can't go to the bathroom alone anymore because some older girls are "protecting" their friend. They've started pushing me around in the bathrooms, in the hallways, going to and from the parking lot and anywhere else they could at school. My body is constantly covered in bruises. It gets worse as things at home are in shambles. He quickly cheats on me and I spend all summer laying in bed dead to the world. I don't want to move, I'm crushed and I can't take it anymore. I'm numb. A zombie shell of a girl I used to be.

Where is the love? I focus on getting out of this "small ass town" I enjoy my senior year. I've reinvented myself. I fail math class the first half of the year and because of extra credits, I get to have 3 art classes. My art teacher rocks and boosts my confidence even more. I relax. I find an older guy (not from high school) that I'm really into. He protects me and shows great concern when this family member (who I've finally shared with someone has abused me) wants to hang out my more and more with other younger family members.

I start healing. I go to off college.

I face my demons. I try to drown them.

Not able to cope with my madness, I leave my boyfriend behind. I get used to the idea of being alone. And then my high school crush asks me out on a date. From those first nervous moments we blend together. Talking for hours, music's playing but I'm not really listening, our accents come out. I feel so comfortable. I welcome him into my home and slowly into my heart. We date and move in together. I graduate college. He ask for my hand in marriage, I say yes and we are engaged. We have kids together. I start to pursue another life long dream of being a Montessori teacher. It's been years since I've had to deal with any sort of serious sexual harassment but then suddenly it's all happening again. I very strongly believe that if you have been sexually abused you become venerable to this kind of trauma and it is easy to suffer the same abuses over and over again. It isn't easy work because during this time we must go to the root of our suffering in order to start to healing and realign with our true selves.

I am doing my thing. I love being a teacher. In only a year I've been promoted from assistant to lead teacher. I've found my passion again through Infant Montessori but soon my perfect world is shattered. I'd known my boss since I was little but it wasn't her that was the problem. It was her husband. He starts showing up to my classroom every day. Trapping me and talking with me while I'm trying to do my job taking care of 13 kiddos under the age of 3. These constant distractions became a everyday struggle. Then the comments start. I'm wearing my favorite maternity dress. Bending over a small sensory table I am starting my day in the classroom, helping the children explore our latest sensory experience. Parents are dropping off their kids and helping them remove and put away their boots and coats. My assistant teacher is an arms length away, reading stories to a couple other students in the reading corner He opens the door to the classroom. Wide eyed I stand straight up, knowing he would enjoy the view all too much. His hungry eyes ready to eat me up finally drift upwards. "Oh, don't get up on account of me!"

He proceeds to stay during the entire class period and peer at my chest some more as he towers over me while I attempt to help my little friends. Trapped in my classroom I have no where to hide. So many thoughts are running through my head. “What the hell! I'm an adult now, this should not be happening at my work of all places!” I'm sick of being treated like this, he stares longingly at my cleavage and I catch his eyes with mine and look into his very soul with a hatred that comes from years of abuse. I have everything set up to get a scholarship for my Montessori Certification. That Monday morning I'm struck with cramps so badly I nearly fall to the floor when they wash over me.

I couldn't take it anymore! Every day I had suffered but now I was pregnant with a daughter. I had to protect her. I had to get away from him. He wasn't going to stop. He had done this before. It was only going to get worse. I had to leave.

Once again I gave up on my dream, but this time it was to protect my daughter.

Every day I struggle with these memories. I've spent the last four years driving past the house where I was raped. I've tried to drown my sorrows and I've stared them soberly down. My children have saved me and shown me how strong I really am. To all of those sitting in silence letting it eat you up, just let it out. Write it down. Talk about it. Get that shit out! Cry your eyes out! Feel it for a final moment, let it have power, be afraid, focus on your breathe, then take back your power! You are alive! Spread your love Follow your dreams Never give up You are the change! A note to my abusers, you know who you are... I forgive you. I know something bad must have happened to you too. I love you, you can't rush your healing but talking to someone you trust sure does help :) This took me 11 years to write, don't make the same mistake that I did! If something bad is happening to you, SPEAK UP! You are not alone. If you don't have anyone you can trust to talk to, try chatting with me @ [email protected]

Authors Note: I found this video after finally drafting up my post. It moved me to tears and spoke to my soul, I think it is something that needs to be shared. THE QUOTES THAT TOUCHED MY HEART

“Depression comes as a gift asking that a woman recognize her own substance and trust it as the quiet, steady voice of her own truth. As she trusts it, hearkens to it, attends as it unfolds, she learns that of herself never allowed to develop when her allegiance was with the collective…” “Depression serves a woman is it presses down on her, forcing her to leave behind that which was not herself, which had influenced her to live a life alien to her own nature. Her suffering, now substantial, insists that she no longer deny its truth. " “For through her descent, she touches the power of the feminine, the power that comes of being, not doing… the power of wisdom in the face of a very old woman, a face on which one reads, ‘I know what I know.’ “A woman through her descent, touches a deeply feminine authority, as different from the authority of the masculine as is the moon from the sun. “It is an authority not of abstracted, rational, objective knowledge, but an authority which allows her to speak from her own unique experiencing of life, from her own deepest personal conviction.

http://www.mysticmamma.com/the-descent-in-the-feminine-process/ THE VIDEO The gift of depression aka the Feminine Descent by Stephanie Lin

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To all of those reading this, Thank you! Thank you for holding this space for me to share without shame or fear of judgement. I love and appreciate you Our time is now. No more playing small! We can no longer stay silent. Peace, Love and Light -Mama Bear

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thehiddenlawyer · 6 years

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Stranger Than Kindness Chapter 15 (The Six Thatchers VI)

Ao3

A little note: We're moving into Season 4 at breakneck speeds and I'm going to warn you- you're going to hate me, and you're going to want to come after me and I get it.

As my beta, poor @simplyshelbs16xoxo who has to deal with me trying to write this.

I've deliberately made the chapters short to give us all a break-- any words of encouragement from y'all to keep writing at this point would mean the world.

Cheers! xx

He heard Molly before he saw her, thought she would kick down the door of the flat the way she opened it, the damn thing banging against the wall with a ricochet. He remained in his armchair, not moving a single muscle even as he kept track of her walking in, wearing that gray sweater that made her look like she was older than Mrs. Hudson, bundled up against the cold weather in that hideous scarf that trailed miles behind her. He could feel anger and disappointment radiating from her in waves, washing through him like endless tsunamis.

“Why aren’t you at my flat,” she asked without inflection, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as she pulled off her gloves vehemently, as if they had offended her by being so close to her skin.

“Why would I,” his voice sounded too flat even to his own ears as he watched her stand in front of him.

The thoughts in his mind screamed for her, the chambers of his mind palace, neglected and submerged under water with his grief, echoed with her name, with his need to hug her. “Come to me tonight,” she had urged him when he’d swung by the morgue that morning, right when Lestrade had been out of earshot and she’d gripped his sleeve.

He had walked away feeling a gnawing hole in the pit of his stomach, the loneliness that he had forgotten in recent months pressing in on him, a roar in his mind that had fallen silent. John’s friendship, and Mary…Mary’s consistency and teasing loveliness, had breathed new life into him, the future he dreamt of with Molly making him float through all his fears, all his paranoia, all his logic. For the past few months he had fallen asleep feeling like a new man, a man worthy of the ecstasy, the life Molly brought him, a man worthy of Mary and John’s friendship, a man capable of loving his goddaughter…a man capable of caring for an infant, a man capable of becoming a father.

But Mary’s death had reminded him that he couldn’t…that he wasn’t capable of having any of that. He wasn’t a man who could lead a normal life, if he was a man at all. He was just a brain, a mind trapped in a body, fooling himself into thinking that the rules of biology applied to him. The life he had been fantasizing about, the one that he had convinced himself he could have, was a dream, as unrealistic as any of the fantasies that shivered to life when he filled his mind with heroin or cocaine. He had so often fallen asleep dreaming of a life with Molly, holding their child between them, but that was as realistic as catching smoke in his hands…it was such a fleeting idea that he was shocked he’d talked himself into believing that tripe.

Visiting the therapist had helped only slightly. He’d found her insight to not be all that helpful as she’d insisted he grieve himself first, that he would only help John Watson, his best friend, through the impossible if he dealt with it first.

But, how could he?

He was emotionally compromised, crippled, guilt nagging at him at the realization that he used Molly as his crutch, a dowsing rod of sorts to illuminate his emotions, to find them.

He felt amputated as he listened to her breathing, unable to find the logic behind his desperate need to touch Molly’s skin, to feel her softness, her warmth against his. He understood the need to engage in coitus, understood the biological urge of it, especially when they had talked about procreating, but all he wanted was to be in her presence, to simply be able to brush her fingers with his, feeling her breath in the same room. But there was no logic in his world now, it was an impossible concept as he became buried in thoughts that anguished him, that made him an insomniac, making him itch for the relief that lived in the tip of a needle pressed into his vein.

It was either that, or Molly….and he hadn’t let himself have either of them, thinking he didn’t deserve either of them now. Certainly, he didn’t deserve the release of his demons in Molly’s arms, didn’t deserve the peace that came when she held him in her arms and caressed him like nothing else mattered in the universe, didn’t deserve to look into those brown eyes and feel life, feel alive. He was living on borrowed time, snatched away from a young mother, from his best friend’s wife….my own best friend, Mary.

“Answer me,” Molly’s quivering voice drew his attention back to her, realizing that she was now standing directly in front of him, vaguely wondering when she’d closed the doors that led into the flat.

“John and Rosie need you more than I do, Molly,” he sounded exasperated, even as he begged her to hold him in his mind palace, even as his voice quivered with the force of his own tears, wanting to collapse into her, to drown inside her. But the weakness in his mind palace could no longer sustain him beyond it, the walls that he had let her breach had to be rebuilt with stronger material than before.

“You don’t need me,” she accused him, and he had to look away from her, her chest rising and falling with her breath and he knew she was holding back tears.

“Molly,” he growled her name, rubbing a hand over his features, trying to keep them blank as his finger curled from wanting to touch her.

“What about what I need?” she asked him, “did you ever think that I would need you, Sherlock? That I’ve been holding my breath all goddamn day, wanting—needing to be in your arms, needing you. You never thought of that?” “Why would you need me, Molly,” he breathed, rolling his eyes, “there is nothing you need that I can give you.”

He waited for her to fight him, wanted her to yell at him, needing to feel her anger, her disappointment in him for having deprived her of her best friend…deprived them all of Mary…Deprived Rosie of her mother.

Fuck.

But the anger dissolved from her features. Molly knelt in front of him, taking his hands in hers as she forced them away from his face, turning his hands to kiss the inside of his wrists, directly over his pulse. She watched him with such knowledge in her eyes that he felt the familiar sense of panic, of feeling so naked and exposed in her regard, unable to hide from her, to trick her with any façade that had fooled the world with for so long. “My darling,” she spoke softly, and he suspected Molly knew he would listen more closely if she kept her voice soft, leaning towards her to hear her words, “I always need you,” she told him, “I will always need you, whether you like it or not,” reaching up to cup his cheek in her palm, she wiped her thumb beneath his eye, “I thought we’d agreed to that already.”

“The rules changed,” he murmured, “the ground shifted.”

She gripped his knees, spreading his legs as she moved closer between them, standing on her knees, “not when it comes to you and me, Sherlock,” she told him, pressing her lips to the base of his throat and he bit the inside of his lips, fighting to keep himself neutral instead of screaming out in joy, in ecstasy at the contact, “those rules will only change when I say they’ll change, the ground will stay where it is until I say otherwise.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, “what gives you the power to determine all of this?”

Nestling her lips against his chest, he felt her fingers unbuttoning his shirt, “because I’m Molly Hooper, and you’re Sherlock Holmes,” she told him softly, “and in our secret world, I keep you safe no matter what, I keep your world steady, and you just have to trust me to do it for you.”

Her words gave him the strength to lift his arms to grip her shoulders, “you wield too much power in this imaginary world.”

“I just need to keep my world safe,” she opened his shirt, exposing his chest, pressing a kiss directly above his heart and he groaned, “and you should know Sherlock, I would do anything to keep my world safe, even when it wants to destroy itself.”

His muscles released, the mental block that had kept him immobile, iced, melting in an instant as she peppered his chest with kisses. His arms hauled her up against him and he kissed her with the desperation that had him rattling in his skin for her comfort, for that taste of her that would remind him that he was alive, and that being alive wasn’t a fault. Guilt gnawed at him as he listened to her moaning his name, as he felt her softness penetrating him as he carried her to his bedroom, his eyes stinging as he thought that John would never hear his Mary again, would never taste, never hold her.

He spread Molly out on his bed, stripping her slowly, closing his eyes and sighing as she ran her hands through his hair, watching him with brown eyes as he removed every stitch of clothing with reverence and care, kissing and licking every inch of skin he exposed. He carried her sighs in his bones, letting it echo in the halls of his mind palace, letting himself feel alive as she welcomed him between her thighs, as she ran her hands over his back and urged him against her. He saw her blink in confusion, her shock melting into understanding that only she could feel as he reached for the top drawer of his nightstand, covering himself with the condom before he pushed himself inside her heat. He buried his face against her throat as he thrust inside her, as he took his Molly, grunting in his ecstasy, moaning his heartbreak, sighing away his dreams of a child, of a life with Molly.

She cried softly against his chest, his fingers stroking her hair as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

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