#life's thrown me a good few curveballs recently

[candyfloss-esophagus]

CRYING WOLF FOR ASK GAME!!!! GIMME ALL THE INFORMATION!!!!

Okay I'm just gonna spam you with asks here so feel free to ignore them if it's too much <3

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 (don't think I've forgotten about the post you made mentioning an alternate ending! 👀👀👀) 10, 11, 13, 14 and 15

Hope this isn't too much! (like I said feel free to ignore these if that's the case!)

I remember you mentioned something about making a lore post about stuff that didn't get put in the fic and maybe you could combine them? If you still feel like making it that is <3 (seriously I still love that fic so much!!!!)

Alright buckle up boys this is gonna get LONG. @voidpants since you sent me an ask with a couple of these in, I'll combine them here <3

This probably goes without saying but there are extreme spoilers for crying wolf below the cut

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way? My recent obsession with vivisection, dissection and cannibalism <33 I know I'm very good at falling into stereotypes and I'm your local transmasc butch unhealthily obsessed with cannibalism <33333

The noirpunk server did, in all honesty. I don't know what I'd do without you guys.

2: What scene did you first put down? The very first scene! I write generally chronologically, unless there's something I'm raring to get down!

3: What’s your favorite line of narration? He pulls back, unable to staunch the hysterical giggles building in his chest, and they tumble free like the intestines of a mutilated fox at the side of a road -- all bloody ropes thick with mucus.

I just like this comparison lol. A close second would be the line about Peter's organs being better to eat than the pigeon.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? “Oh, I know you’re on the square, doll. I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me.” 

I really love this line because I love blatant foreshadowing. But also because in the previous line, Hobie really wasn't lying (as is shown later on).

5: What part was hardest to write? The scene directly before the first cannibalism scene. I'm never too sure how to draw it out and build the tension in the proper way and I'm not entirely too sure I managed it.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics? It's absolutely dripping with paranoia, a lot of what is drawn from my own paranoia (where are my insane babes at ik we're around here somewhere). And also it's one of my most violent fics. Didn't tend to write it before now but I'm really enjoying messing around with it now!

7: Where did the title come from? I was brainstorming with myself after I told the people in the discord that I would try to write something approximating what we'd cooked up together and it took a while (probably about half an hour) before I hit on the story of the boy who cried wolf.

In this context, the boy crying wolf is Peter, whose spider senses are so fucked up that he tends to ignore them when he implicitly trusts people -- which means that when that person isn't in their right state of mind, he dismisses any notion that there might be something wrong.

Simultaneously, the crying wolf is Hobie, who is by far the more dangerous one of them, having been possessed by an actual murderous cannibalistic alien, but who is in much more denial about it. (Literally in the scene where he kills and eats Peter, he refuses to accept what's happened, whereas Peter just told him that it was going to be okay. Both of them are Fucked Up okay.)

Anyway this was a long-winded way of saying that it came from a children's story lol

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it? Yeah!!! In the early days of the noirpunk discord server, we were chucking around the vague idea of symbiote Hobie, throwing out a few vignette scenes and pieces of dialogue, and it was so compelling to me that I said I'd take a crack at it, so here we are! Thanks guys!

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic? AHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHA

Yes. I have an alternate ending kicking around in my head at the moment that I'll probably start with once I'm finished with whumptober and another couple of things I've promised people I'll do </3 the adhd is real you guys

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story? UM?? BECAUSE NOIRPUNK????????

Because this idea was thought up in the noirpunk server with noirpunk in mind and it would have been a disservice to write this pairing as anything other than noirpunk. And also I wanted to give Peter more cannibalism trauma. And at the moment noirpunk is the only thing keeping me sane (which I mean in a very real and worrying way. We ball.)

11: What do you like best about this fic? I got to write cannibalism under the guise of love :>

Also very proud that I came up with the acronym for the D.O.R.M.A.N.T symbiotes

12: What do you like least about this fic? Um. Am I allowed to say my writing. If not, then I know there are plotholes and pieces of lore about the worlds and the symbiotes that don't make sense. Consider: I wanted to write cannibalism.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading? I listened to a lot of Tunng, Troy Kingi and Arab Strap!!

Mostly from Tunng I was listening to a lot of their album Dead Club and out of those were my favourites of Eating the Dead, Man and also Woman (the last two of which are spoken word poems but I choose to treat them as music because they are <333)

Troy Kingi specifically Sleep (Slumber), First Take Strut, and No Reason to 2nd Guess M.G.

Arab Strap specifically The Turning of our Bones, Here Comes Comus! and The Fable of the Urban Fox.

Sleep (Slumber) was looped specifically for scenes where I needed them to be soft with each other. The Turning of our Bones was looped specifically for the cannibalism. Please watch the music video (don't if you're sensitive to gore) because it's actually one of my favourite things in the world.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic? HUNGER AS A METAPHOR FOR DEVOTION. or there might just be a parasite eating your brain lol

Just kidding. Hm. Sometimes we go through something in our lives that's horrific. And we're trying to process it and not getting anywhere because it's so huge that our brains can't wrap themselves around it. Most of the time, we start to convince ourselves that it's us at the core of the problem. Sometimes we are. But to peel back the layers and get to the actual center, there are almost always outside forces that influence us into certain behaviours/choices that we regret later. And that's part of being human!

I'm not saying that you have a parasite in your brain that's making you eat your romantically inclined partner. I'm saying that the love shown in crying wolf is a relatively equal balance of give and take. They try to be as their worlds have shown them that love is, they're unlearning some of the more detrimental things, they're learning and growing together. They take steps back from each other when they need to and try to navigate their situations as well as they can. Idk.

Forgiveness is probably one of the main themes here. Please be gentle with yourself. It's so so important that you are.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic? That I really enjoy writing cannibalism. And that I need to watch a hell of a lot of 30s nyc films and 70s london films because I STILL don't have their turns of phrases down and it's annoying me.

And to take the leap (haha itsv references). This fic was very overwhelming for me at first because I don't tend to write very fast-paced or violent stuff. But I really enjoy reading it and so I really wanted to write it! Even if it isn't that great, I had a blast writing it!

Thank you for sending this ask in!! It's been really good to look past the writing into the inner mechanics of what makes it tick! (And I promise that I'll have that lore post up sometime!! I have not forsaken you!)

Edit: just realised you skipped 12 in your request but in my defence I'm not wearing my glasses and sort of assumed you asked about everything whoops

#sorry about the lack of life on my writing fronts at the moment #life's thrown me a good few curveballs recently #i am but a small lad <3 #esophagus speaks #ask game #ask answered #fiepige #voidpants #crying wolf #hobie brown #peter benjamin parker #noirpunk #atsv #on writing #behind the scenes with esophagus

[suzieb-fit]

Back home and determined to shake off the recent doldrums.

Long story, but right now my physical health has thrown a real curveball.

Diabetic control - nope. Massive lows now rather than massive highs. But still mostly high.

Mucus thing - off the charts. Seriously.

Sleep - yeah, I've heard of that. Wonder what it's like!

Anyway, I'm easing myself into life as usual.

Short walk (30 mins) at 6am. Followed by a lower body/core home workout.

Then breakfast. My apple, cinnamon and mixed nuts (olive oil and sea salt added). Collagen filter coffee. I've missed my machine while I've been away in the motorhome, lol.

And I'm back to my modified version of ketobiotic.

That's a macro breakdown recommended by Mindy Pelz, who I have read a few books by, and I'm on her FB community group.

She recommends up to 50g net carbs and a minimum of 60% fat. She recommends much less protein than I prefer to have, so that's where the modification comes in.

I am making sure that I include fruit and veg (polyphenols for the win), but I'm not having masses of it.

I'm also trying very hard to keep that fibre up.

I have been using psyllium husk. Excellent thing for adding to my daily diet. I am now trying inulin powder. Another good source of fibre.

I've still got quite a lot of psyllium left, so I've mixed the two together, to get a double benefit, using both at once.

Oh yes, and if you notice the scratches on my leg, that's the fight I had with a very dense part of woodland on my last walk on holiday. Brambles vs me. I call it a draw, because they didn't stop me!

Back to normal 15hr fasting after dinner.

I answered a really nice message here this morning. And I guess today's post is one of those times I'm doing what I talked about in my reply.

This is my individual journey of health. Not every day is fabulous. But neither is every day tough.

Most usually somewhere in between those two markers.

#fitspo #fitspiration #fitblr #fitness #healthy living #health and fitness #fit #workout #fiton #suzieb-fit #health and nutrition #diet and nutrition #healthy nutrition #good nutrition #high fibre diet #high fat diet #polyphenols #healthy food #healthy eating #typeonediabetes #type 1 diabetic #type 1 diabetes

[emilyrosediary]

His testimony, not mine

My testimony is not over; what a joyous line I am able to spell out for you today.

 For the last few months my lock screen has been set to a quote reading, “and if not, He is still good”. I had seen the quote one day and thought it would be a good reminder. And over and over again these words have remained true, He is still good. Through every heartbreak, He is still good. Through every struggle, He is still good. For every plan I have set in place that gets broken, He is still good. 

March twentieth was another scary day in my recovery journey. This is a reminder that recovery is not linear. On this day I was scared of myself, scared of my thoughts, and scared to be left alone. Crying to my mom we took a visit to the emergency room to get me a psych evaluation that ultimately saved my life once again. I am so grateful to have such an incredible support system with amazing people who truly have my best interest at heart. On top of that an incredibly patient and loving family who continues to provide me with the resources I need in the middle of an all-consuming crisis moment. Life can truly be scary sometimes.

Now I know you may be thinking: Emily, we have seen this happen before, so a third time, really? Yes. Once again, recovery is not a linear path and sometimes life throws you curveballs (or in this instance, giant boulders). We were once again caught up in a blinding moment where the only conceptual way out in my mind was to end my life.

We recently celebrated a year clean for me, a huge milestone. I am happy to report we are still clean from self-injury. In the midst of a crisis, I was able to scream for help before I ever put a razor to my skin again. ( Yay for mini-victories in the middle of scary times)! 

Ok back to the point. Life throws boulders and God catches them. Once again, what could have been the end to my story was not the end. 

I am by no means a perfect Christian. I have never claimed to be, I never will claim to be. I am a sinner, who disobeys God daily, yet I am protected and loved fully by God.  “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us,” (Romans 5:8). My God died on the cross for me. For the sinful, broken, shattered version of me. What an overwhelming demonstration of sacrificial love.

Once again through the midst of a crazy time in my life of full-time school and working part-time, on top of managing just every day stressor of being a young adult God was on the back burner. I hate to say it but I would be lying to you if I didn’t admit that. Through the chaos, He was barely a thought except for the occasional prayer thrown up or Sunday service I habitually attended. God had again become an afterthought in my life. ( Clearly, I am not the poster child for the Christian faith over here). Once I began to feel my mental health declining triggered by a panic attack, I still wasn’t running to the Healer. It was easier to turn to worldly ideas and ways to cope than to turn to God. This ended in a relapse for me. A hospital stay that I had not accounted for in my six-month life plans. 

Yet, throughout my time in inpatient, I began to dive into a book written by Sadie Robertson titled Live. This book is a dive into what it truly is to live through Christ and for Him. This book was one I had bought a while back and had never truly set the time apart to read. There were opportunities to do so but I often spent those hours glued to my devices probably lost in a Tik Tok rabbit hole. Well God finds a way to reach us whether we are ready for it or not. This crisis had lead me to five days in the hospital. (Now if you don’t know much about mental health support, inpatient is where they work to achieve stabilization in a locked-down hospital setting. There are no phones allowed, no outdoors, just time strictly to focus on feeling safe). While I was there I asked my mom to bring me this book, I had been meaning to sit down and read it, and what better time than this? I had hours to sit between support and educational groups so I turned to Live. God knew the words I needed were hidden in these pages. If I wasn’t going to set time apart, He was. God has a plan for my life and I truly needed to run toward the source of life in a time of life or death. 

These pages allowed God to speak life into me. Life into the heart of a broken, hurting nineteen-year-old girl. We praise God for modern medicine that got me back on the road to feeling like me again. We praise God for the caring staff who selflessly worked to get me back on the right path. And we praise God for a support system to carry me through another terrifying moment in my life. Because the truth is, I didn’t want to die, I wanted to LIVE. I mean truly live. Not live a life of exhaustion, heartbreak, tears, and sleepless nights on an empty stomach. I mean true life. A life that is only found in Him.

When the only option felt like death, it was an invitation from God to truly live.

[ear-worthy]

The Life Shift Podcast Celebrates its 100th Episode

On The Life Shift podcast, host Matt Gilhooly has candid conversations with people about the pivotal moments that changed their lives forever. It's one of those indie podcasts that, when you find it, you feel like you've discovered audio gold. If you don't know, indie podcasting is hard. It's building a media business from conception to birth through maturation. It's finding listeners amid a sea of other podcasts.

On the podcast's website, it reads: "We all have our stories, but through these conversations, we discover communities. We learn that there are commonalities through the ups and downs that we all face. But most importantly, we learn that we are not alone."

The Life Shift podcast highlights life-altering moments and humanizes the struggles and triumphs through them all.

The Life Shift podcast host, Matt Gilhooly, says, "I launched The Life Shift Podcast in March 2022. It started as a project to complete for an elective course in my most recent graduate degree at The University of Florida. I have always felt compelled to share my story in hopes that others might feel a bit less alone on the journey. But since the objective was to create an interview-based podcast, I opted to start The Life Shift Podcast." 

On December 12th, The Life Shift podcast celebrates its 100th episode. 

I reached out to The life Shift creator / host / entrepreneur Matt Gilhooly with a few questions as he approached his 100th episode.

Q. What have you learned after 100 episodes?

A. I had no idea what this journey would bring to me. Selfishly, this podcast has helped to heal parts of me that I did not realize still needed healing. I’ve learned just how similar we are despite all the differences that are thrown in our faces. At the end of the day, we just want to love, be loved, and enjoy this journey we call life. Yet so many of us are thrown curveballs and knocked off our path. But this is where we learn who we are meant to be. This is where we grow.

Over 100 episodes, I have learned how important it is to REALLY listen. It allows for deeper conversation, more curiosities, and it creates a safe space for those we are speaking it. I am so thankful that I can now count active listening as a skill I have acquired on this journey.

I have also had the opportunity to connect with so many people in the podcasting space. It is amazing to me how collaborative people are in this space. People are not gate keeping (mostly) and are happy to share their processes and things to avoid.

I have also learned that there is not one way to podcast. I found early on that I was trying to do what everyone told me I SHOULD be doing. Once I learned that this is my journey, I found everything to be much more comfortable.

Q. Is podcasting harder than you thought?

A. Podcasting is not harder than I thought, but it is much more work than I thought it might be. I think we all think that we can just jump on a microphone, ask a few questions, and then post it to all the places and be done. Millions of people will listen, and you will have a successful podcast. That is clearly a fantasy, at least for me.

 I go into each conversation with my initial goal in mind (to help others feel less alone). This takes the pressure off to feel like I need to be perfect. But it takes a good deal of time to connect with guests, schedule recordings, record the episode (sometimes very deep and traumatic), edit the audio, edit the video, create assets, load to hosts, and promote. I am happy to say that I have found a process and become rather good (I think) at editing and releasing content that resonates.

 Funny enough, the hardest thing for me right now is that I am so far ahead. When episode 100 releases, I will have 115 recorded, which means I have 3.5 months of content waiting to release. This is too much for my heart because I hate making my guests wait. So much so, that I released two episodes a week every week in September and October 2023.

Q. How have your downloads grown?

 A. Oh, geez. This is a sore spot for many new podcasters. We hear so much of these studio-backed shows launching to the top of the charts, but that is far from normal for indie podcasters like me. Growth in downloads has been steady, nearing 25,000 downloads. This number tells me that the content resonates with listeners and fulfills its purpose. Q. Have your hosting abilities grown and matured? How?

 A. Along with building active listening skills, I think I have found more confidence in my voice as I get to 100 episodes of the show. As a child, I was often bullied for my voice, so it is very cool to take that back and find fulfillment in a show that uses my voice weekly to hold a safe space for my guests to share deeply personal stories.

I notice now that I do not get as nervous before recording with a total stranger. The beginning of the show started with people in my circle. I am proud to say that I have not actively sought out a guest since October 2022. So, that says something about my abilities as a host now. Or I hope it does.

 Q. What's the primary piece of advice you'd give to indie podcasters after reaching 100 episodes?

A. There is no universal formula for successful podcasting. My advice is to carve your own path. Do not get sidetracked by the overwhelming number of recommendations/requirements out there. Finding your unique approach can make the podcasting journey the most fulfilling experience, as it has been for me with The Life Shift Podcast.

Check out The Life Shift podcast for Matt's next 100 episodes. Today. Matt has a special episode leading up to tomorrow's 100th show.

It's superb audio for the heart, the mind, and your sense of purpose.

#podcast #podcasting #life lessons

[dzpenumbra]

2/23/23

To quote me 30 seconds ago, "oh fuck, I knew I was forgetting something..."

Hi. I got some shit done today. Not a ton, but for me, a decent amount. It's a tough part of battling a lot of mental health shit at once - PTSD, social anxiety, depression, maybe other shit too, who knows anymore - is like... a successful day for me, a day of huge accomplishment, especially at a time of grief, looks like a normal day in the lives of many others. I wish I didn't compare so much. I would be much happier if I just used my own life as a metric, not the loud college kids who just galumphed down the hallway at 2:15 in the morning, or the kid at the grocery store who just tossed shit in his cart carelessly that made a sound so loud I could hear it through my very loud headphones.

Today, I did yoga. It was like 15 minutes, but again focused on neck and back. Talked to my mom briefly and coordinated car stuff, which worked very well and was very respectful on all sides. I did dishes. I quickly showered, did food inventory and then headed out to the grocery store. I was feeling a bit... hesitant to even get out the door. Like there was a 1 foot tall wall of fire on the other side I would have to hop over to head out. So... like... not that bad. No specific thoughts about why I didn't want to go, just a reflex, a vague instinct. Then I headed out and did groceries.

I actually did this thing I used to do back in my old hometown where I had the entire layout of the grocery store basically committed to memory, so I would actually like... speedrun route my grocery list... Yeah, for real. I gamified my grocery runs. And it worked really well. And I just... threw shit in order from right to left so I could do the run smoothly, because I had my therapy appointment today too and I didn't want to be late.

Everything went according to plan... until I was thrown a curveball in the dairy aisle. And it shook me. I smelled tooth rot. Decay. Maybe not tooth, maybe the rot of a piece of meat stuck in someone's tooth that didn't get flossed or brushed out? And it was powerful. And my anxious brain, my protective brain, immediately did what it has been doing since I was a teen, probably even preteen, maybe even my entire life. It said "that's you". And I started like... swirling saliva around in my mouth to bring scents out, i tried breathing into my hand. But it didn't like... consume me, overwhelm me... which was good. It was still powerful and it stuck with me. And I looked around and saw a person... I hate to say this but... kinda androgynous? And kinda didn't really seem to have a lot of teeth? And kinda didn't look like they had a lot of money? And I didn't like being judgmental about it, but they fit the trope, to the point where I didn't really know why they were in the grocery store. I still don't feel... good about that. It feels... unfairly presumptive. There were other people milling around, but I kinda just... assumed it was either them or me.

I moved on. I, ironically, looked for ice cream. Yep. Don't worry, definitely gonna brush my teeth tonight. OH. Yeah, I should mention. I had periods of horrible dental hygiene in my life, and I never really ever at any point in my life had... proper teaching? Or proper habit development? Neither of my brothers either. So... I brush my teeth once a day, and there were a few years in there where it wasn't even every day. And I smoked for 18 years. Never really flossed or did mouthwash. And no one ever talked to me about it, not even the rare girlfriends. And I only recently got these floss with handle things, which make flossing much easier and more convenient. But the habit is still not really there, my gums bleed like crazy every time and sometimes the floss gets stuck and it feels like I'm going to pull out my crowns, which is really scary feeling. But that's kinda... how I know what that smell is. Because I've smelled it before. Just... not that powerful, even with the floss right under my nose.

I went on my final pass of the store, went "oh, I should check for ramen bowls, just for like... emergency 'meals'". And there was that androgynous person looking at the ramen. And I just... pretended to look at Chef Boyardee and shit until they left. And then grabbed my ramen and left.

Then I did a lap over by the flower shop section to look for succulents, it's kinda part of my closing routine there now. They never seem to have them... And when I finally got in line, guess who? The androgynous person again, right there in line in front of me at the self-checkouts. I smiled at them and just brought my attention back to my music. Headphones make the shopping experience so much easier for me. I can be in my own little world. Until some Boomer comes up and asks the one person with headphones in (me) whether they're last in line. Luckily, I can read lips decently, I nodded and smiled, he moved behind me. He said "I guess I am now", and chuckled. And I was like "bro, I have headphones in," but not really, just in my head, but I was just not really in the mood for conversation at the checkout line for some reason, just wasn't really feeling it. And... then it happened. I smelled it again, the tooth smell. It came from behind me. It was him the whole time. He must've passed me in the dairy aisle.

And the whole time, I either thought it was me and my horrible self-care, or I was judging this other person. And I noticed that judgment and I corrected myself, that was like... the intention of my smiling. It was like... "hey man, people judge you too, be kind, you don't know someone else's story." And it was a genuine smile, saying "hi human, hope your shopping experience wasn't as awkward as mine." And the whole time, it was the dude behind me. And I just immediately connected the dots and went "I need to fall into my music right now, because I am not going to be the person to break the news to this dude that he's got pretty big-time halitosis going on right now." Though, at its core, that would be a very kind and compassionate thing to do, very thoughtful, and if someone did it for me, it would make me super self-conscious but I would be deeply grateful. But my abuse victim self came out there. And he said "bro, if you 'criticize'... if you 'complain'... that's a crime to some people. That's an attack. Doing that is dangerous."

My inner voices are getting a lot of quotes tonight, damn!

So yeah, as much as the self conscious experience of that smell (which is clearly a big source of anxiety/self-conscious triggering for me, smell) was really shitty and difficult... it wasn't the worst part. It had me on edge, but I recovered shockingly quickly. What sent me into oh-fuck-mode? Friendly confrontation. Being the bearer of bad news. Being thoughtful about something that might get me... attacked. Being the messenger that gets kicked down the fuckin well in the movie 300. That image is pretty spot-on. To bring something that is known to set off peoples' defense systems to their attention, and then have all of their defense guns that are supposed to be pointed at the focal point of their self-consciousness... the threat itself... instead they point at me. The person who took a huge risk in order to help them. And I get turned to swiss fuckin cheese, without even a warning shot.

THAT is my family. My mom. My older brother. My younger brother. And, most of all, my dad. Though, to be fair. My dad, when he gets set off, just does childish low blows to try to hurt you more emotionally, and then just unceremoniously leaves. My younger brother learned this from him, unfortunately. My mom does this too sometimes, but it's rare, she is more... angry. And I relate to her, I'm more like her, which is why I devoted so much of my life to anger management, from a very very young age. Like starting at 13ish. It was a very wise investment. My older brother, I can't really tell, it seems like he avoids conflict at all costs and internalizes, which is not healthy at all of course, but... clearly healthier given the context... But yeah, my family is like a minefield. And I guess I used to be that too. And I think in some ways I still am? I really do think that, and I want to be fair to them and honest with myself, so I can really identify those moments and work on that. But like... that's definitely trauma. All of it, for all of us. Being completely on edge at all times and then someone drops a pin and the whole room is jump-scared. I just think I'm the only one in the family who has deliberately worked on this, intentionally, for what it is, and has worked on it for... going on half a decade now. And I think it shows. If only they could see the value in that, in what I have learned, I might even be able to help teach them. <shrug> I guess we all do our own work, yeah? And the best you can do is be there when/if they ever decide they're ready to try.

So yeah... the self conscious social anxiety insecurity? The "omg my breath, people are going to judge me" shit. That used to be fear #1. That was the source of my first phase of agoraphobia, my freshman year of college when I just locked myself in my dorm room and didn't come out. I was afraid something was wrong with my body and I smelled and people weren't telling me and laughing at me behind my back. I wish I talked to a counselor about it, honestly, but... I didn't trust anyone back then. Rightfully so, I was surrounded by really manipulative, impulsive, self-centered people all the time, who was there to trust? And holy shit have I come a long way in the... oh god... almost 20 years since then... ouch. Time flies, huh. That fear, which would have sent me into like... tunnel-vision, walls closing in, high-contrast vision, low-pass filter, "I need to get the fuck out of here now" weed-freakout level panic attacks... until way into my 20's... that shit was like... a 20 second "oh I should check my breath... naw, I don't think it's me... hmm..." Talk about progress, holy shit.

But the big bad wolf absolutely bared his teeth. And showed me where my fear truly lies. How my fear has evolved. Because judgement is scary, yes. It hurts, it's unfair. It feels bad. It feels like... you don't have control. Like someone else is deciding your story or something, right? "Ew, he has bad teeth, he must take really shitty care of himself, he must be a complete asshole." Or something, i don't know, anxiety doesn't often... explain itself so literally... it likes to kinda let your imagination fill in the worst case scenarios vaguely and just pat you on the back and assure you that something worse will happen. But this... this fear that my fear has evolved into... it goes beyond judgment. And I've talked about this before pretty recently, I think, I'll retell the story again for anyone who doesn't feel like digging back through chapters and chapters of my life. And for myself, because I think this was one of the biggest revelations I had in therapy, and my therapist at the time... just kinda missed it entirely and I don't think he even really understood what I was saying...

I was hiking at a spot that I used to go to in high school, it's a hike up the side of a mountain and there's a really tall thin waterfall at the top of it. It gets pretty steep at parts. I had my dog with me, leash tied to my belt as usual. It was early spring, this area was all mud and rocks and occasional snow patches. We made it pretty high up, but we weren't going to make the waterfall. We were crossing a flooded part of the trail, I can see it so vividly in my mind's eye, like the weird brown-maroon color of the mud on the rocks under the freezing cold water. My pup plodding ahead through the water like it's nothing, drinking as she goes. And I remember being in the lead, telling him that I was not so much afraid of the judgment. I was afraid of what people do with it. The things people do when they act on judgement. Oh for fuck's sake, does judgement have an "e" after the "g" or not?! Come on, spellcheck, what the fuck. Is that an Anglicism thing? Whatever, I'm doing it with an "e" now.

I remember struggling to find the word for it. I remember asking him and trying to brainstorm, and I stumbled on... "Justice". What people perceive as justice. Like "I'm going to give this person what they deserve". So... more like vigilantism, or something. I still don't have the right term, I guess retribution? I don't know. When people make snap judgements, then get outraged, then take action. That. Retaliation? Punishment? I guess? Punishment seems most... accurate, I guess.

And... and this sticks with me... my therapist just... didn't get it at all. It did not click with him. I feel like he kinda... dismissed it? Pushed it away, maybe? And maybe I just hit a personal experience reflex defense from him? Maybe I hit him too close to home and he wasn't really there yet and he just.. deflected. I don't really have another good reason. I've had it happen in the past, I know it's a thing. Like... in an ideal world... it shouldn't happen in a professional setting, but... we're all humans. I get it. But that moment is so fucking visceral for me. And I didn't need his validation or discussion really, the connection was already made. That was very clearly my Achilles' Heel, and has been for a long time. Being brought to "justice" for something I didn't do. Being falsely incriminated, due to... superficial judgement. Because I'm different, because I'm weird, because I'm sensitive, because I'm creative, because I'm poor, because I'm rich, because I'm white, because I'm male, because I'm healthy, because I'm sick, because I'm traumatized, because I'm not traumatized enough, because I don't accomplish enough, because I picked the "wrong career", because I'm privileged. Any reason, really.

It's not the witch hunt that scares me, it's what they do to the witches. Otherwise, I'd fucking tattoo witch on my own goddamn forehead, flanked by dual middle fingers.

I haven't shared this. Let me share this. I was gonna say my first tattoo... but that's not true. My second tattoo. My first tattoo was just some... design I came up with that's my initials in the shape of a human figure, that has a yin-yang for a head and the arms turn into Libra scales, and the bottom turns into roots (it was supposed to be veins fading into my arm, but the artist was shit and I was very young and trusting). My second tattoo... that was a three-session piece that I ended up designing the second and third stages of. The first stage was, interestingly enough, done in Salem, Massachusetts. I got a crow. The rest of the design that I drew myself was two other crows perched on nearby branches, one all flesh, one all bone. These tattoos were done by the artist that was supposed to apprentice me and didn't. She didn't do the best job. But they're sentimental, not art gallery pieces, so who fucking cares. Here's the story.

I was in a freakout in college, that first semester. I don't even remember the context. I just remember being super panicked and going for a walk at dawn to clear my head. My college was on the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, so I was walking down a dirt road away from campus by myself at the ass-crack of dawn. And I remember this vivid feeling that I was trying to translate into words in my head. It was so garbled and overwhelming. It felt like what I imagine channeling spirits that spoke another language would feel like. And I came to this finality of... the best I could translate this like profound feeling was... "if they find out what you are, they're gonna lock you up". Whoever "they" is, whatever "what" is. And again, this whole message/thought/insight was much more... conceptual, much more thought-imagery based. So "lock you up" was like... an analog of "do something bad to you" or "stop you" or, I guess, "punish you". And it brought back this feeling of like... going to the Holocaust Museum... the feeling of like... echoes of persecution. And a deep, deep self-protective fear. Like that kind of fear. Like being actively hunted, and having to hide. And it's so odd to me even now, because at that time? At that time... I don't even know what about me I was hiding. And honestly... I still don't!

Maybe that was the culminating point where my subconscious mind couldn't take the thousands of suppressed "maybe they're laughing at me?" "naw, no way." And that confidence started to fade, and I started to question it, and go... "maybe they actually were?" Maybe it was growing more paranoid, maybe it was growing more perspective. I still can't really piece it together exactly, but it was absolutely a first time thing for me and it was... dreamlike. And I remember that I was very, very sober. And the sun was like a reddish orange coming up through the trees, lighting up the cold green-blue dawn sky. And three crows flew overhead in a triangle formation. And I looked up. And I came back to Now. --- I just accidentally hit ctrl+n instead of shift+n... and finished writing "Now" and autocorrect filled in "Owls". That's pretty cool. Right when I'm talking about crows. Because owls and I have a similar but very different kind of relationship. I have a lot of bird connections, damn.... hawks, crows, owls... --- But yeah, seeing the crows and hearing them just like... brought me back to the present moment. And it was really beautiful out, and peaceful, and I remember it being a nice, peaceful moment, and I think I remember smiling. And it stuck with me. It felt important. And I think I understand much more about that importance now than before.

It's not just about this message that I was obsessed with for like... 18 years. This "If they find out what you are, they're gonna lock you up" thing. This like... Anne Frank kinda feeling. That's important. And it's something pivotal to a lot of my life that is really tough for me to articulate to others, and clearly still lingers today. But what I just noticed about it was... how nature just pulled me right out of it. How in the stillness of nature, I was just part of the environment. I belonged there. I belonged in that scene. The sun greets me. The crows say hi. I stop and greet them back. And drink it all in. And it just... is. And it's beautiful. And moments like that, where everything just... is. And it's all how it's supposed to be. They're very sacred. So, maybe I should really remember that half of that experience as well, really celebrate that. Not just the insight, which was life-changing. But also the dichotomy between this chaotic, layered, billions of moving puzzle pieces, 3D chess game of the human world, and the honest, simple, organic existence of the natural world. And to remember that I can return to that stillness, that just... being. Any time I need to. It's always there. The peace, the beauty. And I find it much more often than most. And people think I'm a weirdo for it. Squatting in rivers looking for pretty stones. Looking in awe at the handcrafted masonry in old churches. Listening to an album for the first time with my eyes closed, swaying to the sound as it moves me.

And I really hope that I can cultivate a sense of confidence, and safety. Safety. Let's really not understate the importance of that feeling for someone with lifelong PTSD. Because the confidence will absolutely come naturally after that, duh, right? A safe hunter feels confident. A safe weaver feels confident. A safe banker feels confident. Does a threatened one?! XD So... I really hope I can cultivate a sense of consistent safety so that I can truly just... be myself. Without having to worry about punishment. Without having to worry about persecution. Without having to worry about "retaliation". Without having to worry about being "locked up" (contained, prevented, restrained) for being myself. For being what I naturally am, who I naturally am.

Yo, check this out, I'm actually gonna connect the dots here! HAHA! When I have that sense of safety, of security, that I need... I truly believe that I will be able to reach up and pause my music in my earbuds... turn around... look that white-haired man in the eyes with a warm and compassionate gaze that I try so hard to keep present as much as I can... and say, "hey man, this is really awkward and I really don't want you to feel self conscious, but I think you got something stuck in your teeth or you have a cavity or something? I've gotten it before too, and sometimes you don't notice because like... you're always around the smell, you know? Like I was a smoker, and I never smelled that I smelled like cigarettes all the time, you know? So like... just wanted to let you know that your breath kinda has that smell to it, out of kindness, because like... I don't know if anyone told you, and if I was in your shoes, I would want someone to tell me."

Someday I'll get there. I've been there a few times, just... not consistently. And I really feel like... that's the kind of person I want to be. That's what the real me inside wants to be in that situation every time, but I'm always so afraid. That's a hell of a goal, huh? Some people want to be billionaires, some want to own a Lamborghini and drive it 35mph in residential zones, some people want to intentionally fail at procreating as many times as they possibly can, some people want to be idolized for the fabricated image they display to the public. And I want to just be confidently, honestly compassionate with a complete stranger - at "risk" to myself - and not feel fear. And not cower and run and hide myself from it. I just want to make a memorable, positive impact on people. And as little negative impact as I can. That's all.

Good lord, I just went to the grocery store and this came out. Welcome to my brain. I have to live with this every day.

I got Chinese takeout. It was good, as usual. I worked on one of the stones that my mom mailed me. I think it might have silver in it. I'm pretty excited about it, it's definitely metal, definitely tiny little veins. I spent... close to 3 hours on that. Let me put it this way. I ate dinner, I started working on it, the streams I was watching were pissing me off because literally every goddamn stream is running bundles of like 6-8 ads now... and they're doing these pop-up ads that just throw a fucking ad right there under the stream. In bright white on top of the black background, burning your damn retinas. I remember when coming across ads like these meant you were stumbling into a questionable part of the internet, now it's like... it's fucking everywhere. This is so embarrassing, people. Give these fucking assholes an inch and they'll take everything. See? See how upset it makes me?! XD No wonder I left. I fucking left. I went back over to YouTube, where I finally caved and got a Premium account and it's the most peace I've had in ages. But I wanted to watch something long-form. So I put on Batman Begins. I didn't remember the plot, I didn't really pay much attention to it at the time. Or the last one in the trilogy. I remember Dark Knight, I saw that a bunch of times, but the other two, not so much. So... I did like an hour of sanding before Batman Begins... and about 15 minutes of finishing up the polishing after. That's how much non-stop sanding I did on this stone that's like... less than an inch long. And it looks fucking gorgeous. I can't wait to see it in the sunlight tomorrow!

So yeah, that was basically my day. And as I said in the beginning... it doesn't feel like... a full day. I did like 3 things. Groceries, dishes, polish stone. Oh, and therapy, and that did go well too. But for me? It was a big day. A really good day I should be proud of. So... I'm going to be happy about that.

I miss being comfortable embracing being different. Maybe it's because people just... thought I'd grow out of it? Or be pressured by society to conform? Like... "oh, he'll quit eventually, he'll come to his senses eventually." I mean, he's in his mid 30's... how much longer can he keep this up? Or maybe I just think people think that.

At the end of the day... I just want to live a life where I look at my day and go "I'm happy with that." "I did good." And I think today fits that bill. So I'm going to give myself permission to smile and stop beating myself up. :D

Goodnight, and if you read all of this, I hope you have a pleasant tomorrow!

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

[sincerelyasomebody]

Pinky Promise || Oscar "Spooky" Diaz

(GIF Credit: @merakiaes)

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a while. It will be a two-part imagine/story. Apologises for any grammatical errors found. Once again, don't hesitate to correct me on the Spanish translations. 

Pairing(s): Spooky x Reader 

Summary: Life can change in an instant.

Warnings: allusions to absent parents; death; options within pregnancy, angsty, fluff, language, unplanned pregnancy

Word Count: 1282

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

Becoming the accountant for a few businesses in Brentwood allowed (Y/N) to live above her means. A complete change from the two years out of (college/university) where she barely scraped by, even moving back in with her parents when she was unable to keep up with the rent at her apartment. Thankfully, she was able to bring herself out of that predicament. Those two years were stepping stones into the success she's experiencing now. 

She eventually branched out and took on being the accountant for Joe's Diner in Freeridge. Despite hearing negative things about the area, she couldn't help but admire the community. Their friendly faces, charismatic personalities and willingness to help one another without expecting anything in return reminded her of the small town her grandparents lived in.

When (Y/N) got the opportunity, she'd go back for a visit. Only with her family though. Going back by herself would be a bit too painful. 

Not only did she admire the community she fell in love with it… and with somebody. 

Oscar 'Spooky' Diaz. 

The pair met while (Y/N) was double checking the hours each employee wrote down on their timesheet. He sat in her booth and started up a conversation. Love at first sight wasn't something (Y/N) believed in, but she couldn't deny that they had instant chemistry. All it took was a date for the pair to become an official couple. 

(Y/N) couldn't have been happier. 

She was making good money, she had met somebody who "got" her and for all intents and purposes she was content. Completely satisfied with the way her life was going. 

And then a curveball was thrown. 

"... measuring about six weeks… discuss your options… a follow up..." 

(Y/N) remembered bits and pieces of her doctor's appointment. Going in for a simple check up resulted with the black and white picture in her hands. She was going to be a mother. Shaking her head she quickly tucked it into the pocket of her jacket and walked up the pathway of the Diaz household. She was surprised to see none of the usual Santos members hanging around outside, but figured they had more important matters. 

She was thankful though, as much as she liked the group she felt a sense of relief that they wouldn't be around to hear the news. 

"Está roto tu celular?" Oscar asked, as she walked through the door, when he received a head shake he continued, "then why haven't you been answering your phone?"

(Y/N) took a seat opposite him at the table, instead of answering his question she had one of her own. "Do you know what a wombat is?" 

"Why?" 

"Come on, just answer."

He scoffed, redirecting the conversation, "where were you?"

"I was busy." Was her response.

"Busy? That's all I get?" He glared, "for three days? No contact. Nothing. For three days!? I know you like your space (Y/N), but fuck! At least give me a heads up or something. Give me something. I'm dealing with shit from Cuchillos and 19th Street and all you can tell me is that you've been busy? To answer my calls?" He stood up, "fuck that!"

She watched as he began to pace between the kitchen and living room, "I'm sorry… but, uh – a wombat? Do you know –" 

"I don't give a fuck about a wombat, (Y/N)!" He yelled, walking back towards her, "after the second day of you not answering my calls and finding out that you used up a week of your sick leave I sent Sad Eyes and Oso by your place to check if anything had happened," he took a deep breath, "your car was parked in front and you weren't there. Only reason I stayed behind was in case you'd come here. You're here now and you can't even give me a straight answer." 

"A wombat is native to Australia and their poops are cubed," she blurted and giggled, "isn't that funny?"

"(Y/N)."

"Cubed poops, Osc. And, they –" 

"(Y/N)."

"– use it to mark their territory," she whipped out her phone and searched up an image of a wombat to show him, "see? Aren't they cute? Oh and let's look at the –" 

"(Y/N)!" 

She looked up at him, "yes?" 

Oscar huffed and moved towards the door, "you know what? Fuck it, get out. Spend another three days by yourself or whatever. I don't give a fuck anymore," he opened it up, "porque tenía mejores cosas que hacer con mi tiempo." 

(Y/N) knew she messed up. 

She didn't mean to downplay his feelings or dismiss his concerns. She just needed to build her way up to reveal the news. Now, she realised that it would've been easier to come out and say it. Rather than talk about one of the multitude of facts she had read recently. 

"I–I'm sorry, Oscar," she blinked back tears and reached into her jacket pocket, "whenever you called, I wanted to pick up. I really did, but I held back 'cause saying it over the phone wouldn't have been the right thing to do, you deserved to be told upfront." 

His eyebrows furrowed, "(Y/N)? What are you going on about?" 

She stood up, "I've been feeling unwell for a while. At first I thought it was nothing, especially since I decided to indulge in a (burger)." 

"You've told me that your body –" 

"I know… but, I just couldn't help myself, okay?" Pulling out the paper she held it in her hands, "anyway, I went and saw the doctors. I was given some news… and, I distanced myself 'cause I just needed time to think. I'm sorry that I never contacted you, I just needed to get myself together," she held it out to him, "I've gone over my options and… you can be there for them, we don't need to be together."

He walked towards her and took the paper out of her hands, unfolding the paper his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and then a look of realisation came upon him. (Y/N) took a step back as he stepped forward, she looked down at her feet until she felt his hands lift her chin. Her eyes connected with his. 

"You're pregnant." 

"I'm sorry." 

"No, (Y/N), don't ever apologise for this, okay? This is as much as me as it is you." He pecked her forehead, 

She took his hands away from her face, "like I said you don't need to be -" 

"Why wouldn't I want to be a part of this? Be a part of this family. My family." 

"You… still want me? No, wait – us?" 

Oscar wrapped his arms around her, "absolutely bonita!" he held her at arm's length, looking into her eyes, "we're in this together."  

"Really?" 

"Yeah, I'm not going anywhere, baby." He replied, easing her worries, "I'm gonna do better than what was done for me. This baby is gonna know who their dad is. And that no matter what, their dad's gonna be there for them." 

Not to be the bearer of bad news, she knew it had to be said, "what about Cuchillos and 19th Street?' 

"They'll be handled. You and our little blessing come first." 

(Y/N) gave a watery smile and placed his hands on her stomach. There wasn't a bump yet, it would probably pop out in a few months. Oscar bent down and placed his forehead against hers. The couple continued to embrace each other, enjoying the sense of peace that surrounded them. 

When they broke apart, he held her face in his hands again, "we're gonna be dope parents." 

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ - 

Spanish Translation(s): 

Está roto tu celular? - is your phone broken? 

Porque tenía mejores cosas que hacer con mi tiempo - because I've got better things to do with my time.

Bonita - beautiful

#oscar diaz #oscar spooky diaz #spooky diaz #oscar diaz x reader #x reader #reader insert #onmyblock #onmyblockfanfiction #los santos #freeridge #sincerelyasomebody

[thebonecarver]

Wipe that smirk prick chap 1

"Can Feyre Archeron please come to the principal's office please?"

Fuck. I was in my favourite art class, and this is the time the principal calls me. I didn't even do anything wrong! Well, I might have taken two chocolate milks instead of one, but who can blame me? Chocolate milk is sooo good. It was my last year at Velaris High School anyway, so why should I care? And now everyone was staring at me with eyes full of pity or amusement. Just great. I got up from my seat and walked out the door to the principal's office. What could I have done to get in trouble? I was starting to get nervous, but when I went into the principal's office and saw who was in there, I was more annoyed than worry.

"Why hello Feyre darling."

Rhysand fucking Night was in there. The worst prick out there. Surely I must have done something horrible to see him. I glared at him and turned to the principal to ask why I was here.

"Every semester we choose a few seniors to help wipe out all the data off the school Ipads after school, so I have chosen you, Rhysand, and a few others to help complete the task. You will start today after school for 2 hours, every Friday for the next four weeks."

I wanted to scream at him. I had no problem staying after school, I knew Nesta and Elain would have no problem with me staying late, hell once they didn't know I wasn't home on a school night and, well that's a story for another time. I was just annoyed that he would choose fucking Rhysand to help. The one person who I couldn't stand, but... the only one who made me feel alive. I kept all my thoughts to myself, though. It didn't even matter.

"Ok sir, I can do that."

"Same as me sir"

His voice was smooth and full of amusement. Prick. He knew how much I hated this. "Very good. I will see you two after school in the library." I nodded and walked out of the principal's office. As I stormed out, Rhysand trailed behind me, always matching my pace when I quickened it. Damn, he must be pretty fit to keep up with me. Get it together Feyre.  We were nearing Mr. Tarquins English class when I whirled on him. I was about to tell him about how much of an obnoxious prick he was when my eyes locked with his. They were an impossible shade of violet, and my hands itched to paint them, knowing that I would never get the right colour, and I swore they were stars in his eyes. My breath hitched, and when I looked at those sensuous lips pulled into his signature smirk I pulled myself out of my trance and scowled while I blushed a cranberry red.

"Why are you following me?"

"The bell just went before we left Feyre, and lucky for you darling we both have Mr. Tarquin." I scowled deeper and turned around to walk into Mr. Tarquin's class. I sighed and walked in, thinking about how my evening with Rhysand would be, wishing it would be with him only.

                                                                                                                                The class had been boring, I had already read the book we were talking about, The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. It was probably my favourite book of all time. I loved how he portrayed life, and how he made you want to just live. Something I never managed to do. Life had thrown too many curveballs at me to ever have time to live. She wished she could be like Nora sometimes, having the choice to pick a timeline, but she was stuck with this one, so she had to make the most out of it. I sighed and looked around the classroom and instantly regretted it. Tamlin Spring, my recent ex was staring at me his eyes full of anger. I had broken up with him last week, but it hadn't ended well. I pulled my sleeves down, just in case the bruise on my arm hadn't faded as I saw in the morning. I realized Rhysand was looking at me, and the look he gave me was like he knew. Like he could see how broken and hurt I was, every bruise Tamlin had given last week, but he didn't shy away, he stayed. I shook my head as if the thoughts would scatter away. You have been watching too many rom-coms Feyre. I sat up in my sight and began looking at Mr.Tarquin, ignoring Rhysands stare, like a brand on me.

With school finally over, I went over to the school library where I was to help clean some Ipads. Of course, Rhys followed me, again matching his pace with my own. "So Feyre Darling, who do you think are gonna be our work buddies for this project?" he purred. The way his voice curled around my name made my toes curl. I blushed and responded with, "I don't know Rhys, I am just as clueless as you are." He smirked at me, "Oh but that's where you are wrong darling, I know three who are doing it, and I'll tell you if you tell me what was going on in that beautiful mind of yours during English." I scowled at him. Prick knew I hated surprises and knew I would want to know this information. I gave in.

"I was thinking about how lucky Nora was, to have the option of those other lives, and how I was stuck in this one."

"She was lucky I'll agree on that darling, but in the end, you have to go back to where you belong, or find where you belong." I gaped at him. What he was saying made a lot of sense. I smiled a bit, thinking about where I would belong.

"Now tell me the three people prick." He barked a laugh, his eyes twinkling. "Well, I don't think I need to tell you anymore darling, just look in front of you." I saw 3 people in the library through the clear doors, 1 of which I already knew.

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hope you enjoyed this next chapter coming soon :D

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotar fanfiction #humor #fluff #acofas #acosf #feyre #rhysand #cassian #azriel #morrigan #nesta #elain #eventual smut #maybe acosf spoilers

[harry-styles-sunflower]

Wandering Hands Part 1

Hellooo everyone! I hope you are all having a lovely day! SO this is Part 1 of Wandering Hands. 

What it is: You and Harry become friends but you come with certain baggage that might make any other man run. 

Word count: 6.2k 

Warning: death and angst? (lmk if i forgot one!) 

Pls reblog if you like it :) Thanks in advance for the support! 

~~~

It was a long day after work and you had no one but yourself to worry about tonight. It was Friday, you were at Joe’s, the bar across your apartment. You’d come in regularly. Only about every other weekend. You were drinking your troubles away with a Manhattan. The bar wasn’t too full, it was only happy hour. You heard the bell ding behind you meaning someone walked in. Some man approached the bar as you finished your drink.

“Hello, can I get a glass of your most recommended wine?” You felt him look over at you, “and a refill on whatever she’s having” he paid Joe and sat a stool away from you.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to” you slid your glass away from you.

“No problem, I wanted to” you nodded and watched the tv. Joe served you your Manhattan and the man his wine. You knew it was a glass of his Château Cheval-Blanc because you had had it yourself once. 4 years ago.

“You know, I never understood baseball too much.”

You drank your drink and looked at him from the corner of your eye. Was he talking to you or Joe? You looked around you and you were the only one close enough to hear him and Joe was busy.

“It’s a good sport if you understand it” you shrugged.

“Care to explain it to me?” He moved to the stool next to you.

You swallowed your drink and looked at the screen. You had no interest in getting a good look at the man next to you anyway.

“English?”

“Precisely.”

“The Red Sox and Yankees played in London a few years ago.”

“Wasn’t home.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah”

“Well Um. 9 innings, 3 strikes you’re out. Guy on the circle in the middle? That’s called a mound. His position is a pitcher- “

“Isn’t that what you guys pour juice out of?”

“Yeah we use the same word for a lot of things, don’t interrupt,” he smiled at you, “he’s a pitcher. He throws to the guy across him, the catcher. Catcher signals him what kind of ball to throw in between his legs. He does it based off the batter’s weakness. There’re 4 bases. 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and home. When the batter hits it, he hopes no one in the outfield catches it or it gets out of park. If they catch it while it was in the air he’s out, if they catch it after it’s hit the ground he can run as fast as he can to whatever base is available. But like in order. Oh, also if someone in the outfield catches the ball, they’re gonna throw it to one of the basemen so they can tag the batter running. But if the batter touches the base before they’re tagged then they’re safe.”

He nodded along so you knew he was listening.

“Can I ask a question now?”

You nodded and sipped your drink.

“How do you know it’s a strike?”

“Oh, my bad. See the box on the screen? If it gets in there it’s a strike. Outside the box it’s a no ball but we usually just say ball.”

He nodded and gestured to your drink, “refill?”

“Oh no, I’m good. I need water” He ordered one for you and Joe gave you a knowing look and you just shook your head at him. You two were basically friends now. He’d gotten to know you over the past 4 years. You lived across the street for 5 but you came in 4 years ago. Joe came and gave you your water and you drank it slowly and watched the game. It was Yankees v. Red Sox. The Red Sox made a homer and you shook your head.

“Yankees fan?”

“Yep. We’re in New York. Kind of against the law to be anything else.”

He laughed and sipped his wine. He hadn’t drunken much, he gave you all his attention while you spoke. “My dad was a big Yankee fan. I’ve been one since the day I was born. My mom says she pushed me out and when the doctor put me in her arms the Yankees had won the game. We used to go to a game like every year when I was a kid.”

“Are they as fun as they seem?”

“Even better. During the commercials on tv, sometimes the outfield players play catch with the people on the side or they play a video of the players talking or play a game with the crowd”

“That’s pretty cool,” he put his hand in front of you, “I’m Harry by the way”. You looked at his hand and put yours in it and shook it.

“Y/n” you looked over at him. You finally took a good look at his face. He was gorgeous you couldn’t deny it. He had strong facial features. Short stubble and green eyes. They were bright. Different than your own dark eyes. He made eye contact with you for a few seconds before you turned back to the screen and drank your water.

“If you’re from England, are you here for business or pleasure?” It was New York, people came and went. Travelled. But in your small town about 30 minutes north from the city, no one really came through here unless they knew someone.

“I uh I’ve been here for about a year but I just moved to the area recently. Got a little tired of the city life, but didn’t want to be too far. I work as an editor at Simon & Schuster.”

“Wow. That’s a good job. Hell of a commute I assume?”

“About 1 hour every morning. It’s worth it. Sleep without the sound of horns or sirens”

“True.”

He turned on his stool to face you and you faced him. Your knees were touching.

“So, what do you do?”

“Teach. I’m a teacher. 7th grade social studies. Actually, I taught the Boston Tea party today” you smirked at him and put one arm up on the bar and leaned against your hand and one hand on your knee. Some fingers accidentally touched his knee but your knees were touching. You couldn’t prevent it from happening

“Ahh” he moved a pointed finger at you. You laughed and so did he. He had dimples. Cute. “Such a petty thing if you ask me” he shrugged.

You laughed and shook your head.

“A lot of history is petty.”

“Do you like teaching?” He put himself in the same position as you, his fingers brushing yours too.

“I guess. I love my kids and filling their minds with knowledge but the standards and requirements are a pain in the ass”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about that. Not too much freedom”

“Yeah. Like if I want to take them to a museum, I need to find a standard that validates that museum will teach them according to that standard”

“Wow. The museums here are basically free too right?”

“Yep.”

He shakes his head and sips his drink.

“It’s been like an hour and you’re still drinking your wine”

“Well Ms. Judgey, it’s a good wine. I’m savoring it.”

“It is good. I’ve had it. And I’m not judgey. I was just saying it must be warm now.”

“Eh. It’s still chill. Thanks for caring though” he grinned at you.

You rolled your eyes and finished your water.

“When did you have it?”

“Huh?”

“The wine”

“Oh, um four years ago”

“That’s precise”

“It was on an anniversary of something.”

“Wedding anniversary?” He laughed.

“Death anniversary actually.” His face stilled and he became pale.

“Shit I’m so sorry for laughing.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“Shouldn’t have assumed.”

You saw him looking at you like he wanted to know who it was but would never dare to ask. You debated telling him. You turned back towards the screen, leaving his knees cold. He felt he had lost any chance he thought he had with you. He liked talking to you.

“Joe, jack and coke please”

He nodded and brought it to you. You chugged it down. Harry put his head in his hands. He had driven you to drink. Yikes.

“It was my husband. He died.”

He lifted his head from his hands and looked over at you. You were a widow. You looked so young. He felt bad you had to go through such pain.

“I’m sorry for your loss”

“Thanks. It was 5 years ago. I’m alright”

He nodded. Too scared to say the wrong thing.

“He was in the service. Died in Iraq.”

“Oh wow…” he was surprised you were opening up to him. Perhaps it was the liquid courage.

“Came with the territory, I guess. We were together for 10 years. Married for 5. Widowed for 5 now. If you’re trying to do the math we were high school sweethearts. Started at 15. Married at 20. He died at 25. Yes, I’m 30.” You drank your leftover water.

“Erm… Wow. Well you look good” he was nervous.

You laughed lightly and said thanks.

“Guess I scared you away now didn’t I?”

“No no! Not at all I just don’t want to fuck up and say the wrong thing.”

“Harry it’s been 5 years I’m good. I’m religious, I coped well”

“Oh okay.”

“Stop being nervous!” You laughed.

“I can’t help it!” He laughed lightly.

“I’ve got a big curveball for you,” you turned to face him and you put your hands on his shoulders as he faced you.

“I see what you did there. Curveball” he tilted his head toward the tv.

“Ooh yeah. I didn’t even notice. Well are you ready?”

“I think?”

“I have a son.”

It was what he thought. Didn’t know if he fully expected it though.

“Okay. Curveball caught? Strike? What’s the big deal?”

“Wait what? You’re not thrown off?” You were shocked. His face barely twitched or showed any surprised expression.  

“No?” He shrugged. “It’s a child. I guess I kind of expected maybe something after you said you were together for 10 years.” He finished his wine.

“Fair enough.”

“So, where is he? If you’re here”

“In-laws. They take him every other weekend. Or just from Friday till Saturday.”

“You get along with them?”

You shrugged. “I think they thought I wanted him to sign up for the force. I didn’t. Obviously. It’s a death sentence. I just wanted to support my boyfriend at the time,” He nodded as you spoke, “but they love Sam and are always there for him”

“Sam huh?”

“Samuel. He’s 7”

“Good age”

“Yeah. He’s a lil sarcastic but I blame myself. I could be that way so he’s only doing what he’s learned. But he’s really smart. He’s obsessed with rocks. Been that way since he could walk”

“That’s cute I won’t lie”

“Thanks” you laughed. You liked his company. He was easy to talk to. You had found it easy to open up. He didn’t seem creepy either. Like he just wanted to get in your pants.

“Well it’s been lovely boys, but I have a little boy I have to be up for in the morning. His grandma wants to have brunch”

You stood up and so did Harry.

“Wait let me walk you to your car.”

You lived across the street but he didn’t have to know that. Joe hid his smile when you said “okay”. Harry paid Joe for both of your tabs and walked out with you. It wasn’t too late, 6 pm. You walked to your car and his was coincidentally in front of yours.

“So um. It was nice meeting you. I enjoyed your company”

You fiddled with your keys and looked up at him.

“Yeah I did too.” you said.

“Would it be too forward if I asked for your number?” he was biting the inside of his cheek, you could tell.

Guys had hit on you before. But the wounds were too fresh and Sam was too young. He’s still young but he’s smart, and he knows some days you feel lonely. As much as you convinced him that he was the only man you needed he knew the truth. You liked his company and conversations. So, you said,

“I don’t think so,” you held your hand out for his phone and he placed it in your hand. You put your number in as “y/n 🥃🍷”. Ball was in his court now.

“Cute” you both laughed.

“I’ll text you” he said

“Mhm” yeah. Sure.

“Are you gonna get in your car?”

“Oh, it’s fine you don’t have to wait” please don’t make me get in my car. I live here.  

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t wait until you at least got in to your car?”

Okay you were a little impressed. Fair enough.

“Very true actually. Well bye, Harry”

“Nuh uh. It’s see you soon. I’m serious about texting you”

“Okay” you laughed and got in your car.

He got in his and you waited for him to pull out.

 Once he was past the traffic light you got out and went up to your apartment. You called Sam’s grandma the second you got in. He picked up with an ecstatic voice.

“Hi ma!”

“Hi baby, how are you? Everything okay?”

“Yeah! We’re bowling. I’ve gotten 2 strikes!”

“Oh wow. Look at you!”

“Grandpa says dad was good at bowling”

Your heart broke just a little. It bothered you a little when they spoke about him to Sam. You knew he was their son but they didn’t know how much Sam cried sometimes wishing he got to know his dad. You only spoke about him when Sam asked about him or mentioned him.

“Yeah he was actually. When we were younger, we went on a date and he won one round and I won the other. But we were too broke to buy another round so we left it a tie” you laughed at the memory. Just 15-year-old kids.

“You were broken?”

“No sorry hon, I mean we didn’t have enough money to pay for another round”

“Ohh okay.” You forgot sometimes Sam was only seven because he was so smart sometimes.

“Yeah. Well can you put your grandma on for me hon?”

“Yeah okay. I can stay over?”

“Yeah of course. As long as you want to and don’t feel forced to okay?” You knew sometimes he didn’t want to because of how much they spoke about his dad. On those weekends you faked he had a tummy ache.

“Yeah okay. Here’s grandma” he passed the phone to your in-law. You could never say ex. Your husband wasn’t an ex.

“Hello?” Her tone was already unwelcoming.

“Hey, just wanted to confirm we’re still on for 11?”

“Yeah. I haven’t cancelled.” Translation: did I tell you we weren’t going?

“Okay. Sounds great. See you there”

“Okay” she hung up.

“Yeah okay bye. Geez” you slammed your phone on the table and rubbed your temples. She was always so rude to you. When he died, she said it was your fault he left. She apologized for that but it was still something she said. You can’t take words back. You left your phone on the table and went to shower. You just wanted to take a warm shower, relax your muscles, wear some cozy pajamas, drink some tea, and watch friends until you fell asleep. Friends never did you wrong. So that’s what you did. You remember to set your alarm for tomorrow but you also remembered you left your phone on your kitchen table. With a groan because you found the position and you knew you wouldn’t find it again, you got up and got your phone. You saw you had a text from a random number. When you unlocked your phone, the message said

H: Hey, it’s Harry.

You felt bad for making him wait but whatever.

Y/n: hey

You got back into bed, not finding the position again and kept your phone next to you. Your phone lit up about a minute or two later.

H: what’s up? Did you get home safe?

Y/n: oh yeah. Thanks. You?

H: Yeah, I did thanks. So, what’s up?

Y/n: watching friends, you?

H: Same actually. Nick@nite?

Y/n: Yup 😂

H: I’m happy they play this. Especially since Netflix took friends off.

Y/n: Same. Friends is like my bedtime story now. I watch it every night

H: favorite character?

Y/n: I think it depends the season? Like I love Ross in season 9 and I love the rest. I couldn’t pick

H: I agree.

H: Would you want to FaceTime?

You thought about it. Did you want to?

H: We don’t have to if you don’t want to. (Sorry for the spam of messages btw)

You laughed at the last bit.

Y/n: we can FaceTime :)

“Harry would like FaceTime…” you slid your finger across the screen.

“Hello”

“Hey” he smiled into the camera.      

“You look cozy” he was wearing a brown robe thing w a hood from what you could see.

“Ooh I am,” he looked up at the tv, “why are birth control commercials so odd?”

They were playing a commercial for lo loestrin fe and the cartoon bought what was supposed to be lingerie and was showing her boyfriend you assume.

“I hated that pill. It was the worst one I’ve ever tried”

“Really?”

“Yeah it made me gain weight and tons of acne”

“It sucks that all that comes with just trying to prevent pregnancy”

“Yeah. You males have it so lucky”

“Well if they came out with a male one, I’d take it”

You laughed a little too loud.

“You think you’d be able to remember?”

“I’d just take it in the morning. Like a vitamin”

You noticed the way he pronounced vitamin. It was a little different. Cute different.

“I used to take mine at night, just before bed. It was easier that way for me”

He nodded at you and the show had come back. You think that maybe that whole conversation was TMI for your first FaceTime call. The episode The One in Barbados. You both laughed at Monica’s hair.

“Kind of didn’t like the whole Joey and Rachel plot line” He said while looking at the tv screen. It was like you guys were together in the same room and his company was nice on this lonely night.

“Yeah same. It was wack” he laughed at that.

“I think I love phoebe”

“Same, Regina Phalange”

“It’s actually princess consuela bananahammock.” He said with a straight face. You cracked up at his little joke and kept watching the tv.

 A few hours later and friends was over. You and Harry were basically playing 21 questions.

“any pets?” You asked.

“Nah, I work too long” you nodded.

“Favorite flower?”

“Sunflowers or tulips”

“Interesting choices”

“Thank you” you smiled. You were now in bed laying down against your pillow, “do you live in a house?”

“Yeah. Small but yeah”

“I used to, but a year after he died, I had to sell it. I like the small space better. It’s more homelike for just us 2”

He nodded and listened. “What time is lunch with your in law?”

You liked how he didn’t say ex in laws. It was a small thing but you noticed.

“11:00”

“Oh okay”

“Yeah”

“Y/n, um. I’d like to take you out. On a proper date. But I know you’re probably really busy. So, um do you think you could let me know when you’re free? If you wanted to go out on a date with me that is”

“Yeah sure” you bit back your smile. You had never done this before. Well not after your husband. It would be your first date in 5 years. You just got a good feeling from Harry.

“Oh okay” he was a little shocked.

“If not this week, then the next. Maybe Friday”

“Yeah that’s good with me”

“Well uh, I’m gonna go to sleep Harry. It was nice meeting you today”

“Yeah it was for me too, meeting you. Goodnight. Sweet dreams”

“Yeah thank you. Goodnight” you smiled and hung up. You felt giddy and happy. You looked at your bedside table and it was a picture of you on your wedding day staring back at you. You knew he would want you to move on already. You smiled and contently fell asleep.

~~~

You woke up around 9:45 to give yourself enough time to get ready. It was nice being able to sleep in a bit. Sam was always up by 8. You remembered your conversation with Harry last night. You haven't had a conversation like that in years. You'd just recently decided that you'd be open for a relationship but you weren't on any dating apps or anything either. Going with the flow you guess. You got ready quickly and drove to the restaurant where you were meeting your boy and your in-laws. You stepped out your car and so did they. Sam looked around before running to you. You opened your arms for him and he hugged you tight.

"Ugh my baby I missed you so much last night!" you kissed his forehead.

"I missed you too ma," he kissed your cheek.

You picked him up and spun him around making you both giggle.

"y/n", your mother in law said.

"Lydia, how are you?" She held her purse in front of her as you put Sam down.

"I'm good, you?"

"Good."

Your father in law approached you. He was quieter and more reserved. The loss of his son hit him hard. The two were close. He did watch out for you a bit more than Lydia. Lydia's priority was Sam, William's priorities were you and Sam.

"Hi William, how are you?"

He gave you a hug and you guys walked into the restaurant.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Good, thank you."

You guys got settled into a booth and you already knew what you all wanted. This wasn’t the first time.

"Sam told me his science teacher is being hard on him," Lydia spoke without looking away from you. She was looking at your clothes and makeup. Seeing if it was up to her standards.

"Yes, he told me too. I already told him what to do."

"And what was that?" Here we go. Here's the thing. Lydia was your husband's mother. When he passed, she wanted to be her grandson's mother as well.

You held in a sigh before speaking. "I told him to work hard during school but if she specifically targets him repeatedly to let me know and I'll handle it."

She nodded and stayed quiet. Thank God.

"Mami, your phone vibrated," Also, your husband was Italian. You were Hispanic so you were trying to teach Sam some of his Hispanic side as his grandparents taught him mostly his Italian side. They more so taught him stuff about the culture and food, but none of the language. They swore they knew it but you've never heard them speak it.

"Thank you for letting me know mijo, but since we're all together I'll check it later." you kissed his head.

You and your husband had done a good job. He was a perfect mix from both of you. He had brown curly hair, like you. Hazel eyes like his dad. Dark eyelashes like you. A button nose like his dad that was covered in freckles like yours. Plump lips like the both of you. The food came and you all began eating.

"We wanted to talk to you about something." you felt Sam put his hand on your knee. Uh oh. He was preparing you for something he knew you may not like.

"Okay, what is it?"

William spoke up, "Well, winter break is coming up and we wanted to take Sam away for a week."

You almost choked on your food. A week? Them? With your son? Were they insane? Okay maybe you were being a little dramatic but what?!

"Um, where?" you tried to seem open about the idea.

"Blue mountain. We would go snow tubing and other things in the snow." Lydia said.

"For a week? Snow tubing for a week? That sounds more like a weekend thing to me." you ate your eggs.

"Well we would look in the town for other things to do obviously," Lydia snickered like you had sounded ridiculous. She better not start with an attitude you thought. She was asking you for a favor not the other way around. So instead of giving her a direct answer, you said "I'll think about it." You needed to talk to Sam if this was something he wanted to do or they wanted to do.

You guys had finished eating and you all eventually said goodbye. Sam wanted to come back home instead of staying Sunday. Sometimes he just wanted extra time with you.

~~~

You were driving home from unsuccessful shoe shopping when you heard Sam's little voice come from the backseat.

"Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. Why would you say that?"

"Because grandma was kind of rude to you when you said it wasn't a week long thing." Every year he became more observant.

"Well I mean I didn't like that but I'm not mad. I don't let your grandmother ruin my mood."

"Okay"

"Do you wanna go?"

"I don’t know… I do but not for a week. That's too long away from you."

Your heart warmed a little and you nodded. "I'd feel that way too."

"Did dad like snow tubing?"

"I'm not sure bud, we never went"

"Oh."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't go. I went when I was younger with my mom and sister, we made it a girl's trip. It was a lot of fun."

"Really? What if we went just us two?"

"Hm I don’t know bud; I think your grandparents might get sad. I think I can tell them it will only have to be for a weekend and then you and I could go another time. Just us two."

"Umm okay that sounds good. I agree."

"Good." you pulled in front of your building.

"What was dad's favorite season?"

"Fall. He hated the heat, but he hated being too cold. And he'd get the worst allergies in the spring and he had this weird pet peeve for sneezing. It was kind of funny seeing him get frustrated though. He would look like he wanted to rip his nose off." You held his hand as you walked inside. He giggled at what you said. When you both got inside to your apartment you both took off your shoes and sweaters. You had a picture of your husband on a small table by your entrance. Every time you walked in Sam would say "Hi dad!" to it. He asked if he could watch some Disney XD for a bit and you said it was fine. You were going to make some dinner. You checked your phone and saw Harry had texted you. You were a little shocked he kept up with talking to you.

H: Hey, good afternoon. I hope brunch went well :)

y/n: Hey it did, I guess.

H: You guess?

y/n: Eh they want something, felt like a setup?

H: Ah. I get what you mean. Sorry it happened.

y/n: It's alright. I got my boy back so I'm happy.

H: Good. I'd love to meet him someday to be honest. He sounds adorable.

You thought about his text. How would Sam react? He's always saying for you to get a friend but what would happen when you actually did? It made you nervous to think about. You felt your phone vibrate again.

H: Uh sorry if that was too forward.

y/n: No, its fine. It was sweet.

H: Okay good.

"Ma?"

You jumped up slightly like you had been caught doing something bad.

"Who are you texting? You never text this much" he was grinning at you. He was happy?

"Um none ya beeswax"

"It is my beeswax when it's taking time away from you cooking my dinner," you gave him a warning look. Dang smart ass. Gets it from you. He mumbled a "Sorry" and sat up on the stool and leaned on your countertop.

"I made a friend that’s all okay?"

"A guy friend?" he smirked.

You turned to get a pot. "Mhm"

"What's his name?"

"Harry."

"I like that name."

"You would like any name if it meant I had a friend."

He giggled and nodded. "Does he know about me?"

"Of course he does. You think I could not talk about you?"

"Okay okay," he blushed slightly, "Is he nice?"

"Yeah he's pretty nice."

"Are you gonna go on a date?"

"Samuel! He's a friend!" you playfully yelled at him.

"Mom I'm not 5, I know you might want a little BOYfriend"

"Sam you are 7, and how do you even know what a boyfriend is." you were talking to him as you gathered all your ingredients.

"Grandma told me about boyfriends and girlfriends"

"Now what is she doing telling you about that?" you looked at him.

"Well we saw a couple at the bowling alley and they kissed and I said ew and she said it’s because they were boyfriend and girlfriend so she explained what that meant to me."

"Hm, okay." you trusted she gave him a good and appropriate definition.

"Do you have a picture of him?"

"We just met yesterday" you say as you open and close cabinets.

"Does he like baseball?"

"I actually had to explain the sport to him. He's not from here." you started cooking.

"Where's he from? Is he from where dad used to work?"

"No, way off. He's from a place called England."

"Where the Beatles are from!"

"Exactly," you smiled at him. He was a classic soul.

“That’s cool”

“Yeah his voice is different too”  

“I wanna meet him” he put his chin in his palm, “It’d be nice to be around another guy that isn’t grandpa.”

“He uh actually said he wants to meet you too but I think we should wait a bit. I think I should get to know him better before you meet him” You stir your pasta in the pot.

“Okay” he tapped your phone screen, “he texted you”

“Thanks, nosey” you took your phone and read his message. You had forgotten to respond.

Y/n: hey sorry was cooking dinner for the hungry boy and I

H: it’s alright. What’s on the menu?

Y/n: pasta. Penne ala vodka with some shrimp. Probably some garlic bread too. Lazy meal

H: lazy? sounds glorious.

You laughed as you texted.

“Oooh he’s making you laugh!” Sam giggled.

You covered your face and told him to go to his room to make sure he had done his homework. Tomorrow you were going to Chuck E Cheese so he wouldn’t have time to do it then.

Y/n: we’ll see how it tastes

H: do you like to cook?

Y/n: I do but I run out of things to cook so I get bored

H: yeah same. I like to experiment though.

You were feeling a little confident and flirtatious

Y/n: maybe you could show me sometime

H: yeah. That’d be fine with me 😊

You bit your lip unsure of what to say. It had been a while since you were back on the flirting scene. You felt your phone vibrate again.

H: are you vegetarian or anything? Gonna think of some ideas from now.

Y/n: I don’t follow any specific diet but I definitely don’t eat a lot of meat. More of a seafood person.

H: gotcha ;)

Y/n: ;)?

H: don’t like it?

Y/n: eh it’s alright 🤷🏻‍♀️

H: alright?

Y/n: mhmm

H: you’re teasing me, aren’t you?

Y/n: just a lil bit 🤏🏻

H: 😂😂

You finished up cooking dinner and called Sam. He came down quickly and mumbled a small yum.

Y/n: I’ll talk to you later. Gonna eat now.

H: okay 🥰

You served you and Sam plates and you both ate quietly as you watched some tv. You would say you were pretty lenient with Sam. He was very mature for his age and he respected you greatly. He barely gave you a hard time. You think he got that from his dad. His dad always wanted to please you any chance he got.

“Mami, can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“How come, hon?”

“It’s comfier” you laughed at this because you would say the same thing to your parents when you were younger.

“Okay. But you know you can’t always sleep in Mami’s bed. You gotta sleep in your own some nights.”

“Yeah I know,” he smiled at you.

“Alright. Well can I trust you’ll bathe yourself good tonight? I don’t have to help you?”

“Yes ma, I’ll remember to wash myself good.”

“Okay, remember to get in between your toes and everything”

He nodded at you. You two finished your plates and you sent him off to shower. He kept the door open just in case he needed your help opening one of the bottles. You remembered the first bath you ever gave him. He was so much smaller compared to now and his dad kept complaining about how slippery he was. You were only 23 with a new job and new home but you were both so happy with your little boy. You cleaned up the kitchen and went up to bed where your little boy was already waiting. He had turned on the tv and was watching friends. You showered quickly before getting in bed with him. He cuddled up to your side and laid his head on your chest. You massaged your fingers into his damp curls until you heard him snore lightly. You fixed him onto your other pillow and fell asleep on yours.

~~~

The weekend had ended and you hadn’t heard from Harry. That was before you remembered you were the one who hadn’t answered. It was now Monday afternoon and you were picking up Sam from school. You worked at a middle school just a block away. Sam hopped into your car and told you about his day.

"Can I go to Justin's house tomorrow afterschool?"

"Is Justin's parents okay with this?"

"Yeah, we'll do our homework first too!"

"Alright, you better do it because when you get home I'm checking it all"

"Okay!"

You guys walked into your apartment and Sam went up to shower. That was the routine after school. He showers while you make a snack, after that he comes down and eats while you shower, you grade papers while he does homework, and then if he's done you let him watch some Disney channel while you make dinner. This is exactly how your evening rolls out and you decide to text Harry.

y/n: hey sorry. Busy day yesterday. You wanted me to let you know when I was free and I'm free tomorrow after 3...

You stop typing, "Sam, until when are staying at Justin's?"

"Until like 6? He said his mom was gonna cook"

"Okay," you continue typing,

y/n: Hey sorry. Busy day yesterday. You wanted me to let you know when I was free and I'm free tomorrow after 3 until like 6. I know its late notice so no worries if you're not free too.

You finish cooking, eating, and cleaning and you still hadn't heard from Harry. He was probably mad at you now. You sighed aloud and thought well it was nice while it lasted. You went over Sam's homework with him and then made sure he brushed his teeth before bed. You tucked him in and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight my love," you pushed his hair back off his forehead.

"Goodnight mami, goodnight dad" he blows a kiss toward the picture of him and his dad on his bedside table.

You walked out his room leaving his door ajar and walked down to your room. You grab your book and climb into bed. It was the book from Jane the Virgin. You related to Jane in multiple ways. As you were becoming a part of the fictitious world of the character Josephine you felt your phone vibrate.

H: Banzai, 3:30pm, Be there or be square.

You smiled at his assertiveness. It was kind of cute.

H: If that's okay with you.

y/n: Yes, that's fine lol😂😂

He could never be too serious you thought.

H: watching friends?

y/n: actually reading.

H: what are you reading?

y/n: snow falling, it’s from a show and stuff.

H: look at the publishing company

You looked and sure enough it was Simon & Schuster. Wow.

y/n: Wow lol, I never noticed.

H: I've read it, it's pretty good. More of a girly book, I think.

Y/n: I can’t imagine you reading this tbh.

H: it was a hard manuscript to get through. Kept me on my toes.

You continued texting and before you knew it, it was 2 in the morning.

y/n: wow its 2am.

H: I know. Time flew. You're so easy to talk to.

y/n: I could say the same about you.

H: I'm excited for later

y/n: so am I, free food.

H:😐😐😐

y/n: I'm joking!

H: sure you are.

y/n: I am, I'm excited too because I miss your company, its nice.

H: I don't have a company

y/n: Harry

H: okay okay, thank you. Get some rest, you've gotta be up early.

y/n: true, see you later! 😊

H: see you🥰

~~~

Part two is up now!

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #wanderinghands #wh

[xjoonchildx]

kanalia update?????

might scream! so excited!!!!!!!!!!

ahhh! thank you so much sweets 💕💕💕

thank you for rolling with my story and my slowwwww update patterns. life has thrown me a few curveballs recently (although technically they're good things) but it's definitely had an impact on my writing time. thanks so much for being awesome and i hope you love it!

#anagrams 💕 #fic: kanalia

[blackidyll]

.

mmm i’ve been kind of in a mental spiral lately (literally feels like i’m having an existential crisis 70% of the time). like you know, 2020 was super fucked up but as time went by we all kind of adjusted? and things are not fine but you can juggle all the balls just so and breathe a little, but a couple of weeks back something tipped the balance for me and it’s like mentally i’ve been thrown off the cliff 

i can pinpoint what threw me out of whack though -- at the end of feb we got the call to return to onsite for work (my country went back into lockdown in november... we’re technically still under lockdown but employers don’t give af anymore i guess). we’re supposed to be on team a/b (team a goes in/team b works from home one week, second week the teams alternate) but i was pulled into this project immediately upon my return to the office, and i went into the office every. single. work day. in march. and because this project was so damn urgent? i was working my weekends. i worked every single day for three weeks straight until i threw a (silent) fit the final weekend and refused to open my email, and even then one of the managers was calling me at 5:20 pm that Friday as i was about to shut down my laptop. 

“luckily” i am good friends with that manager - a colleague who got the promotion recently - so i literally scream-ranted at him 80% of the time and then kicked him off the phone at 5:45 because i was fucking going to my apartment that weekend and I REFUSE TO WORK ANYMORE IT IS OFF WORK HOURS.

anyway. i am kind of not doing great. work is a mess. in october last year i was approached by my manager’s manager for a job role that was 1) effective immediately but 2) “i can’t actually tell you any details about it because it involves P&C information 3) also you can’t tell anyone because re: P&C. 

i said yes, because it’s not like i could say no (like, it’s nice they phrased it as a question and all, but i’m pretty sure the underlying message was that this is a job transfer, not a new job role offer). 

so after i said yes to the new role, i got to learn what it involved! long story short, suddenly i wasn’t working for just a manager - my new boss is getting a major promotion so the stakes are a million times higher! also, my new role reflects that, i am not only supporting literally only the VPs and senior managers (instead of working with my fellow rank and file colleagues) now, but it also involves skillsets that i don’t actually fucking have (like tracking/reporting finances! i spent my first three weeks in the new job almost crying over numbers and spreadsheets. even now i get a bit panicky when someone throws me a curveball and i don’t know how to get the information i need. i am very lucky that the actual data and finance people have been very patient with my gaps).

and to top it off, i am still just a fucking employee, although my job scope and requirements are so much more now. every single person i work with is a manager or higher so of course with their cushy pay and privileges they take the odd/long hours, and since I have the work with them I end up having to do the same. but it’s not the same because i don’t get the same fucking compensation they do and i don’t have a team that works under me. I don’t actually want that. I want work-life balance and less fucking stress. if you ask me if i would have taken the job if i knew what it involved, the honest answer is that I would not. 

(but it’s not like I had a choice really, because literally the entire company - not just our division - went through a major reorganization, so if i didn’t have my current job i think i would have no job). 

and to be fair my boss is pretty decent as far bosses go. he subjects himself to the same crazy hours that we do. he doesn’t scream or yell (like some horror stories i’ve definitely heard of others in the org). he values my work, and makes sure to tell me so. i did get a pay raise. he mentioned trying to push through a promotion mid-year (let’s see if that pans out). he knows i was very much out of my depth and gave me a lot of leeway despite the mistakes i inevitably make, but on the other hand he also got me into this fucking situation so :<

anyway. i don’t know. i’ve been struggling a lot since last october. every month and quarter close is a financial reporting and review nightmare. having to deal with office politics is hell. i was not joking when i say that playing genshin was literally the only thing keeping me sane those early months, because gaming forces me to not think/panic over work because i have to concentrate on the battles. and this past few weeks i have been depressed enough that even gaming lost its spark for me. 

i haven’t been on tumblr much lately and probably will continue to be sporadically active in the future. when i was working from home i could log in during breaks and take a breather, but now that i’m back in the office i can’t even get on twitter on my phone (because engineering company, i can’t get a good data signal inside the office due to the shielding, and i am sure as hell not checking my social media using the work wifi). i don’t really have much energy after i get home from work. and when things are bad a lot of other things kind of pile up, like falling sick easier and interrupted sleep, and the it becomes this cycle of everything just dragging you down. today i worked from home but tomorrow i’m due back in the office. 

i’m sorry if you’ve messaged me and i haven’t responded. it’s been.. really difficult. i’m hanging in here. i just don’t know when i can find my balance again. 

on a bright side? i am really, really looking forward to building houses in genshin. the thought of it feels really calming. guess they knew what they were doing when they named it serenitea pot. 

#while tumblr is not eating posts just a quick update from me i guess #never mind that wasn't quick at all #*

[musicprincess655]

Mei shows up way too early to his first practice with the new team and kills time by texting Kazuya.

>Any advice for starting with a Japanese pro team?

<You’ve been a pro for years. Also, it’s not even 6 am.

>Yeah, but not in Japan. And why did you answer me then?

<Sawamura Eijun is a mistake I can’t stop making.

>Gay.

<I’ve decided I don’t like you actually.

>Does that mean you’ll start being an asshole to me again? Because it’s honestly kinda weird that you’re being so nice.

<Teaches me to exert effort on you.

>My heart bleeds.

<I hate you.

Mei is still snickering when the first staff members show up and let him into the stadium. He’s already been here, already found his locker and stashed a few emergency candy bars in it, just in case. He leaves most of his gear in his locker after he changes out and heads up to the field.

For a moment, Mei lets himself take it all in. He looks around the stadium that will be his new home, breathing in deeply and letting his excitement build and then settle. It won’t do to look too eager, although Mei might have already ruined that by showing up so early.

“Mei-san?”

When Mei turns, he’s sure he hasn’t schooled all the excitement and wonder off his face just yet, if the way Itsuki’s eyes widen is anything to go by.

“Any chance I can rope you into pitching practice before everyone else gets here?” Mei asks.

“You don’t want to wait and introduce yourself to everyone properly before you start?” Itsuki asks.

“When have you known me to not want to show off?” Mei scoffs. “Besides, this’ll be a better introduction than anything I can say.”

Itsuki’s face shifts into an expression Mei never thought he’d see again. Exasperation, but fond. Itsuki wore it constantly in high school.

“Let me change out,” he says, and Mei stays rooted to the spot until he returns. He doesn’t know how this will go. Will it be the same as last time they played together, only briefly while Mei was still looking for a new team? Or will it be a repeat of the Olympics, a complete breakdown of any spark between them?

Luckily, though, as Itsuki rejoins him and lets them both into the bullpen to test themselves, it’s the former. They’re not quite up to where Mei thinks they should be, not back to where they were in high school even if the skill they’ve both gained over the years makes up for it. They might not have that magic that only truly belongs to high schoolers in the bloom of youth, but sparks of greatness only really belong to pros who built upon talent for years, and Mei and Itsuki both have done just that. The only thing left for them now is to put themselves back together.

“Hey, wanna see a new trick?” Mei asks. Itsuki’s already tested all of his old spots, and Mei feels properly warmed up.

“You have new tricks?” Itsuki pulls his mask up and jogs out to meet Mei.

“Obviously,” Mei says. “I haven’t been doing nothing for nine years.”

“Glad to hear it.” There’s just enough of an edge to Itsuki’s voice to warn Mei that he’s stepping close to dangerous territory, and Mei lets it go. So they’re not quite at discussing their time apart yet. That’s fine.

“There’s an update to the curveball,” Mei pushes on. “I can get it to break like a slider now. It’s called a slurve.”

“Slurve?” Mei nods in sympathy as Itsuki tries the word out. It sounds fine in English, but the combination doesn’t work quite right in Japanese. “Wouldn’t that break too wide? It’s basically the opposite of a screwball, right?”

“If it’s thrown out of control, yes,” Mei says. “Good thing my control is good.”

“So you’ve got a new one that starts as a strike and turns into a ball,” Itsuki muses.

“It doesn’t have to,” Mei says. “I can keep it in the strike zone.”

Itsuki is only half listening, considering the new possibilities. Mei leaves him to it, keeping his other new trick to himself for now. It’s the product of a late night drinking with his team that ended with them back at the field, and Mei had thrown something so terribly out that the batter didn’t even go for it.

Except it landed in the catcher’s mitt as a perfect strike.

One round of sobriety and a few test pitches later, and Mei found that he’d essentially taken the slurve to its most extreme conclusion, turning it into a pitch that breaks so sharply it’s basically a spiral. There’s almost no footage of him using it because he so rarely does. It can be a game changer, but it’s also hell on his arm to throw.

He’ll tell Itsuki about it later. He has to preserve some air of mystery, after all.

“I see you two are already hard at work.” Mei whips around to see his new bullpen coach staring at them both.

“Just making sure the catcher is up to snuff,” Mei says, grinning at Itsuki. Itsuki rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t look all that annoyed.

“And?”

“Exceeds expectations.” Mei grins harder when Itsuki’s cheeks flush at being praised in front of someone else.

“Come cool down and meet everyone else,” the coach says. “They should all be here by now.”

Mei already met most of the starters when he visited before, but now he has to introduce himself to the rest of the team. He lets his bravado settle over him like an old friend, wild grin that tells everyone he means business in place.  

“Nice to meet everyone,” he says. “For those who don’t know, I’m Narumiya Mei. I look forward to working with everyone.”

A younger version of himself would’ve gone on about something like how the team had nothing to worry about now that he was here, or that they would go to the top of the nation, but he holds that back. He tends to butt heads less if he gives everyone time to get used to his personality, and he’s putting in an effort to make this work. Not that it won’t work if he comes out swinging, but it’ll take longer, and Mei is now old enough that the time and effort of getting people used to him isn’t worth it if he can just tone it down at first and avoid that whole step.

Everyone is polite, if distant. That’s something Mei will have to get used to again. He’s sure they’ll warm up to him, in the way Japanese people do, but it’s a far cry from when he was eighteen and introduced with his coach’s arm around his shoulders and hands in his face for shakes.

Still, practice goes so well that Mei is practically vibrating with glee at the end. The best he thought he could hope for after everything was that he and Itsuki could get back to how they were in high school. Now, though, he’s sure they can surpass the battery they had back then. They can be better than they ever were.

“Let me buy you dinner?” Mei offers after they’ve changed out, shouldering their gear.  

“Where?” Itsuki asks, wet hair flopping in his face.

“You know the city better,” Mei says. “Your choice.”

Itsuki picks out a place that serves curry rice and fits in their meal plan, but only just barely. Mei happily chatters away at him about how practice went, how they can improve over time. He showed Itsuki the new slurve, the one that breaks like a spiral, too eager to show off, and Itsuki’s face when it landed right in his mitt was worth it. Itsuki already has ideas about how to use it in a game, even with the harsh limit it has. They talk baseball until the conversation lulls, and then Mei decides to take a risk.

“So, do you still like idol groups?” he asks, voice carefully kept just as casual as it has been all along. He treats it like it’s the same as any other question he’s asked, though the way Itsuki goes silent lets him know it’s anything but.

“I guess,” Itsuki says, suddenly cagey.

If Mei was a better person, he would take that as a signal to back off. But, despite recent efforts, he’s not, and while he’s more than happy to let Itsuki set the pace for them, for whatever it is they’re doing now, he can’t build anything with baseball alone. At least, nothing with staying power. They already tried it that way.

“I’m not trying to make fun of you,” Mei assures him. “I just want to get to know you.”

“We’ve known each other for ten years,” Itsuki scoffs.

“No, we haven’t,” Mei says. “We knew each other for two years in high school, and we haven’t spoken much since. I won’t pretend I think you’re the same person you were back then, so I have to learn who you are now.”

Itsuki lets the silence sit for long enough that Mei regrets his decision to push. It must be too soon. He hasn’t yet earned the right to anything but Itsuki’s baseball, hasn’t earned the right to truly be his friend just yet.

“Not as much,” Itsuki says.

“What?”

“I still like idol groups, but not the way I did in high school,” Itsuki says. “I don’t have the free time to go tracking down merch or go to concerts. I mostly just listen to the music now.”

“And that game you used to play?” Mei hardly dares push his luck more, but he almost can’t help himself.

“I still do,” Itsuki says. “Sometimes I play in their events. Sometimes I even get pretty high on the leaderboard.”

“Impressive.” Mei sits back in his seat, satisfied with this level of progress. It’s a new thing he can slot into the whole that is Itsuki now, and he revels in it.

“Baseball takes up most of my life now, though,” Itsuki says. “Being a pro isn’t easy.”

“No one ever said it would be,” Mei agrees. “Still, I didn’t think baseball would be the only thing you do, ever. Thanks for telling me.”

Itsuki blinks at him, apparently taken aback at being thanked for the small insight into his life. Mei wants to keep talking, because now that Itsuki has given him this one piece, maybe he’ll get more, but their waiter comes back with a check and an apologetic plea to let them close for the night. Mei keeps his annoyance in check, because it’s not the waiter’s fault they came so close to closing time, but he really does want to keep talking to Itsuki.

They head in the same direction as they leave, slowly picking the conversation back up, though it’s mostly about how much time baseball takes up now, and Mei doesn’t want it to end.

“Want to come back to my place?” he offers. “I don’t have much, but I should have some tea I can offer you.”

Giddy as he is on the high of potentially being friends again, Mei doesn’t realize his mistake until Itsuki stops dead.

“I don’t…” Itsuki starts, looking viscerally uncomfortable.

“Not like that!” Mei cuts him off quickly, waving his hand to dispel the suddenly tense atmosphere. Much as he’s excited to be back in his home country, years in America have changed him, and he forgot for a moment how that offer might sound. “It’s just…it’s not weird to have friends over at your place in America. I forgot that’s not a thing here. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable, but I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”

“Okay.” Itsuki doesn’t look happy, exactly, but the pinched, uncomfortable look has faded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Mei sighs, taking the out. The atmosphere isn’t tense anymore, but it also isn’t the easy almost-camaraderie it was before either. This is probably the best thing for both of them.

It’s progress, slow though it might be. Mei never expected to be Itsuki’s friend again overnight, and it’s not surprising that he overstepped tonight. He can only hope it’s not a setback, that Itsuki will still be willing to let Mei ask questions about his life now, and keep moving forward.

>So I might have fucked up.

<Fucked what up?

>I forgot friends don’t really hang out at each other’s houses here. I invited him over and it sounded as bad as you think it would.

<You fucked up.

>I could stand for you to be nice to me right now.

<It was an honest mistake, though? You weren’t actually trying to get him to sleep with you?

>No! Of course not!

<Then it’s probably fine? You’ll figure it out.

<Wait am I your conscience now? I don’t want to be your conscience.

>You’re the one who texts back.

<I’m finding a flip phone and buying that and you’ll have to email me if you ever want a response from me.

>Don’t act like I won’t.

<I hate being your conscience, and I am never being nice to you again.

>Noted. And thanks.

Mei turns his phone off and sighs. He just has to keep moving forward. That’s what he decided he’d do, and now that he’s taken the first steps, it’s all he can do.

And one day, maybe, he’ll have a friendship with Itsuki to go with the battery they’re already well on their way to forming.

#itsumei #miyusawa #daiya no a #dna #my writing #bos

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Prospect

Request from Anon:  Nestor doesn’t know you’re part of the mc he feels betrayed that you didn’t tell him, “I trusted you y/n, I don’t just let people in” (you used to be best friends with Em n the Reyes brother, you took with ez side over em) and you see her in public one day and you have you’re kutte on and she calls you over to chat and you say to her “this isn’t the life you wanted em” (first part to request cause it’s so long)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader 

Warnings: language, angst

Word Count: 2.3k 

Summary: Emily and Y/N were once best friends. Y/N was in love with Nestor. Y/N supported Ezekiel after Emily’s abortion and disappeared from her current life close to the cartel to now be the first female prospect for the Mayans MC. 

-There is a part two request that I am finishing up and will post early this week! This story was legit one of my favorites to write, thanks anon! 

************************************************************

Stillness encumbered her fragile bones, her heart throbbed to a chaotic march forcingly reminding her mind of the goodness of the man now standing in her path of beautiful obliteration. Nestor stared blankly into her icy blue eyes; just like a vicious predator hunting his unfortunate prey. Her chin quivered slightly as Y/N bite her bottom lip restraining herself, any attempt at maintaining a shard of control still placed within her reach.

Tilting his head to the left, a questioning glare reflected off his features before he dared to interrupt the impending muteness trapping the young couple.  

“I trusted you Y/N. I don’t--I don’t just let people in.”

“Ness let me explain, please.

He sighed loudly unable to further detach the emotions he allowed to overwhelm his senses again, especially when it all came down to the girl before him. He adored his nickname when it fell off her lips, and only hers.

“Explain what? That you conveniently forgot to mention you just so happen to hang out with the fucking Mayans? I haven’t seen you in years, and then this Mayans shitstorm bounces the cartel’s way, but by accident we meet on opposing sides? Worst of all, you eagerly manipulated me into giving us another lousy chance, but I don’t fucking know this girl.”

“I think you’re getting confused. We agreed on fuck buddies, with your rules might I add. I am sorry that you persuaded yourself that things would be just like old times. Don’t get it twisted Ness. We aren’t dumb kids anymore.”

His eyes scanned her from head to toe trying to memorize every inch she willingly showed him. It was at that exact moment that Nestor realized he was fighting for the old Y/N and not the bold woman in front of him. Unexpectedly, Y/N shoved him with all her brute strength as she reveled in his minor fall.

“Woah, wait. Fucking rewind -- I don’t just hang out with them you dick, I AM one of them, well a prospect currently.”

Flabbergasted, Nestor was left speechless as he wordlessly watched her lips open and close, but he heard nothing other than a piercing ring reverberating through his ear canals.

“You’re one of them…?”

She could only nod in agreement.

“So, when did they start letting bitches in the boardroom?”

Y/N’s chest suddenly weighed down upon her with heavy force. She knew she had to come clean. Better late than never, right? But, in her defense, they had agreed to keep their lives completely separate, careful to never intermix this time around.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, Nestor.  I was the first female member to prospect, brought to the table, and voted. Fair and square. Don’t you dare demean me and my choices. It certainly wasn’t easy to prove my power, but I fucking did. What the hell have you done, take orders like the lap dog Miguel groomed you to be?”  

Her murderous smirk shone brightly upon her lips, a dark chuckle slipping through the cracks before returning her attention back to the belittling asshole she mistakenly loved..loves. This was supposed to be their second shot at happiness, but as always, it ended in calamitous flames dooming them to disastrous heartache. The usual tale of ill-fated star-crossed lovers.

“Does Em know about this?”

“You know I haven’t spoken with Emily since her and Ez’s fight behind bars. She only knows what you tell her, Nestor. Playing the fool doesn’t suit you.”

This caught him off guard causing goosebumps to prickle every surface of his skin. This wasn’t the guarded serene girl he had met so long ago but replaced with a resiliently fierce woman. Nestor wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was enthralled with Y/N, in awe of her ability to adapt to any curveball thrown her direction.

“You should call her. She misses you, believe it or not.”

The conversation strayed towards a lighter note as the room began to clear away any remaining ammunition between the conflicted lovers, both waving their white flags of peace; if only for an instance.

“I can’t, things aren’t not that simple nowadays… She asked me to choose and I did. It just wasn’t the answer she prepared herself for. And for that, I am truly apologetic, but I refuse to turn my back on the boy I’ve known since 3rd grade. It is what it is; an ended friendship.”

Some relationships mimicked broken glass, its unending fragileness, but at times it was better to leave them in shattered pieces than try and hurt yourself putting them back together again. Sadly, the risk isn’t worthy of its cause.

“I’ll pass along the kind words. Now enlighten me, did you ever seriously love me or was it all part of your warped game?”

Y/N’s checks blushed royally, anger taking hold of her persistent consciousness.

“Which time are you referring to? When we were 20 or now?” Only spiteful thoughts flooded her mind proving to be easier than sheer honesty. She thrived off knowing she could still upset Nestor down to his spiny core.

If she had done anything right in this complicated mess of a life, it was loving Nestor Oceteva, but all good things must come to an end, right?

“Well, there’s your answer. Your doubt is enough to prove just how much you didn’t trust me, and you’ve had these reservations for some time. I can only imagine how easy it was for you to paint me as the bad guy these last few years. Its your turn to be honest. Does it unnerve you to look at the man reflected back at you every day? Because if we’re sticking to being truthful, I admit I did see the advantage of seducing you, but I chose to let you in. Well, the first time around. And that obviously ended swimmingly.”

Stepping dangerously close to Y/N, their breaths intently intermingling; “You’re not the only person in a position of authority, Y/N. Miguel Galindo, our dear Emily’s husband wouldn’t even blink if you were to disappear. I’m very good at my job.”

Y/N refused to show fear especially to a man she fell for so purely, but that wasn’t her current reality, and he made sure of that.

“I loved you and I lost you. Cold case closed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Hasta luego, viejo amigo.”

*10 days later*

Emily heard the deafening noise of several motorcycle engines rapidly approaching before she braved a glance over her shoulder. She had just finished at the grocery store, marking one trivial chore off her never-ending to-do list all while trying to figure out how to work Cristobal’s newly installed car seat.

Fucking Mayans, it had to be.

She didn’t have time for this shit, not with the looming tension suffocating her husband. Besides, she left the Reyes brothers a long time ago, and didn’t want to risk a chance encounter even if they did live in the same godforsaken town. Ezekiel Reyes was her first love, but Miguel was a man of continuous passion.

Occasionally, she would find herself pondering what would have happened if she had kept the baby or chose the man she promised to love, but life had a different idea for the both of them.

The usual crew pulled their bikes into the adjacent parking lot heading towards the clothing factory. Gilly, Coco, Angel, and Ez came into view as they distractedly chatted, patiently awaiting as the last bike strolled closer.

Emily didn’t need the stranger to turn around before knowing exactly who was underneath that particular helmet on this particularly humid day.

Her laugh instantly gave her away, a laugh she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. Y/N, someone she considered a sister before she enthusiastically leapt to the metaphorical dark side. Y/N made her decision; to betray Nestor and abandon Emily. She was fortunate Miguel was there to pick up the damaged edges’ Y/N left in her destruction.

After the longest pause in recent history, Emily decided against her better judgement to brave a simple hello to an old friend… acquaintance?

She yelled loud; “Y/N, HI., waving her hand discreetly wondering how the next few moments would transpire. Her nerves slowly trickled into her belly as her chest spasmed disobediently.

Y/N’s elbow was perched atop Ezekiel’s shoulder as he sat on the cool leather seat of his latest ride, her ears perking in response to the shrill noise coming from across the street. She squinted, the sun blockading her vision temporarily before meeting Emily Galindo’s incessant stare.

She locked eyes with Ez giving her the nod of approval before gracefully smiling back, squeezing his shoulder and taking the few steps away from her friends. As both females approached the other, neither were certain who would speak up first.

Y/N popped the bubble of surrounding awkwardness; “Emily, long time no see, stranger.”

Emily hated nicety but went with the flow keeping her existing irritation at bay.

“Y/N, I didn’t realize non-members could wear their boyfriend’s kutte?”

There was certainly a distinct, underlying competition to their complex friendship, and Emily was the kind of fighter that went straight for the jugular vein when her defense mechanism reacted.

Quietly chuckling; “Nope, but you’re allowed to wear it when you’re the newest prospect. Well, of course alongside Ezekiel. You remember him, hmm?”

“How could I forget. I was pregnant with his child at one point.”

“Look, drop the petty act and just tell me why you called me over here?”

Emily was silently stunned, unsure of what drew her to reach out, but she couldn’t let Y/N know that.

“I heard you caught up with Nestor or should I say broke up with him...again.”

“Not all of us can be the murderous power couple you and Miguel seem to be. I know how you get when faced with a rivalry.”

“You knew a façade, a previous version of me. You haven’t had the pleasure of seeing Emily Galindo at work, but you will, soon.”

Y/N gaze met the cold gray concrete they were both standing on, shaking her head; “This isn’t the life you wanted, Em, yet here we are.”

For a brief pause in time, Emily’s eyes teared up before wishing her tears away. This wasn’t the time or place to show weakness especially to the enemy.

“I wished for an exhilarating and purposeful life. I just happened to get a lot more than I bargained for. You don’t know Miguel like I do so don’t you fucking judge him.”

“Easy Emily. You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I could care less now.”

“For the record Em, I never wanted to pick sides. Sometimes I can’t even close my eyes without seeing the hurt expressions etched onto your face from that fateful night…and how heartbroken Nestor was. But you gave me an unimaginable ultimatum and I tried my damnedest to figure out the right path.”

“I know that now. I don’t know what it is about you that brings out the bitch in me today.”

“You’ve got that whole mama bear protective look now. It’s refreshing.”

“You should really think about calling Nestor. He isn’t doing too hot at the moment.”

“Part of me wants to but now I have the MC to take care of as well. I love him, I do. I just don’t think its our time right now.”

“At this rate, will it ever be yall’s time? I mean the boy has been drooling over you since you basically met, and you run away at the sign of anything remotely serious with him. Why?”

“He makes me feel too vulnerable. Conveniently, Nestor is also in love with a girl who no longer resides in this body or mind.”

“Just like he isn’t the same man you left standing there on the balcony all those years ago. It’s a double-edged sword, Y/N. You need to reconnect, get on the same page, and see if this is actually endgame worthy. Because if you ask me, I always knew he was going to be your person, even when you kept adamantly denying it.”

Distantly, Y/N heard Angel yelling for her signaling to hurry the hell up. She smirked back choosing to further test his lack of patience.

“Same things never change though. That’s my que, it was good to actually talk Em.”

“Agreed. Maybe next time we don’t wait so long, huh?”

“I’ll see you when I see you Emily Galindo.”

“Goodbye old friend.”

Emily turned to double check Cristobal’s seatbelt before opening the driver’s side of her car and launching herself onto its expensive leather. Briskly, the engine started, and she merely drove off. Y/N was left standing alone in a parking spot debating if the conversation that just occurred had been an uncontrollable dream she created out of thin air.

Y/N glanced at her watch questioning how she had let 15 minutes slip by before she heard the familiar voice of man clearing his throat. Someone new stood in front of her, his infamous braids in tow and tinted sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

“So, I see you finally caught up with Em. Good for you.”

“Have you been hiding nearby this entire time or did you discover psychic abilities to eavesdrop while I was away?”

Y/N hand hugged her hip bone as she swayed her weight between her two feet, unable to stand still any longer.

“So, I guess we have some talking of our own to do. Whaddya say?”

 -----

Hasta luego, viejo amigo: Goodbye old friend 

#Mayans MC #mayans #mayans mc x reader #nestor x reader #nestor oceteva x reader #My writing #mayans mc fx #mayans mc imagine

[freyjaxshieldxmaiden-blog]

Speak Up

One of the best pieces of advice i received when I was hospitalized, that my godparents Shared with me is this “living soberly often isn’t “fun” or the fun you’re used to...it can feel boring and in fact it can be because without the chaos that alcohol can often induce life can then at times feel almost too calm and unexciting because, well let’s be honest at least I can speak for myself alcohol definitely makes things interesting to say the least because then I’m more outgoing and impulsive so yea i make things “interesting” because you never know who you get with me, typically the borderline comes out even more aggressively and without abandon and honestly its not cute...so back to my godparents advice... Nicole it can feel boring but your life itself will be more satisfying, fulfilling and memorable at the end of it all if lived sober. It may not be the exact excitement you yearn for? But it will be worth it as you make of it what you will.

I’ll try and keep this short. I like to look at and analyze myself to get a better understanding of who i am and why i do what i do in order to become ashes and rebuild myself from there and continue to grow and learn and evolve so I can experience life to the fullest and hopefully help others along the way. I’ve always identified as an addict i truly believe most it not all are whether it’s starving ourselves, addiction to the scale to social media to shopping to the gym to selfies to camping to riding bikes ... and addiction doesn’t have to be “bad” although we have attributed to it a negative connotation.. the word or label itself isn’t bad in and of itself society has demonized the word through the experience of others... i digress... point is we all have something “good” or “bad” (which i don’t agree with these terms) as deemed by society that we cling to and might even obsess over and fill our life with to create a purpose or establish some sense of control and often to numb with so that life feels a little less scary.. it never sat well with me that in AA meetings an individual who solely drinks is an “alcoholic” but the guy next to him is an “addict” because he drinks and chooses crack... THEY ARE ONE IN THE SAME... it is just more societally acceptable to be a “functioning alcoholic” than an “addict” (as defined by society) because of the stigma that’s been created by humans... because alcohol is legal??? It is a leading cause of depression and suicide and fills our hospital with mentally and physically ill people. Those with eating disorders are addicts too.. addicted to the starving to the counting calories all the nuanced behavior but it is often glamorized at least anorexia is so it’s less embarrassing to speak openly about an ED than to admit to obsessively and compulsively drinking and using because “those people” are degenerates at least that’s commonly how “addicts” or those who use “illegal” drugs are viewed in today’s society. So a person with bulimia and a compulsion to over excercise and cut is more worthy of getting resources for recovery than a person who picks up every night ? Both individuals are numbing both are in pain, both are escaping trauma and silently begging for help internally... but we shoo the “addict” away. I didn’t choose to have an eating disorder ? You think i asked to spend more than half my life now just holding on enough to stay alive ? Yes the addict chose to buy the drug yes the ED client chose to buy the food to binge on but these people did not ask for the obsessiveness and compulsion to do this? It is just how life and genetics and their environment and time period and culture played out such that their “addiction” inevitably manifested itself.

I thought finding recovery from anorexia would be the hardest obstacle I’d ever fight in my life.... and when it was over life would be ok... then she met her best friends binging and bulimia via exercise .. game changer... now the war got a little more complicated. So i managed to survive anorexia well hell yea I can take on these other armies...unbeknownst to myself these ladies had a secret weapon I was not expecting nor prepared for... depression and he... he was a whole other demon. I fell down in that battle for what felt like an eternity I wouldn’t say he was a harder fight than just the EDs but... i was used to those enemies.. they were familiar I was used to their tactics and their strategy in the battlefield... depression was a curveball and crippled me for awhile as it’s strongest fighter, suicide, pinned me down in the soil for what feel like ages... Funny thing is the ED troops began to retreat as depression stormed the field.. those soldiers just weren’t necessary anymore and I had slain most of them prior to.. and then... oh and then... plot twist... i called on my own secret weapon or what I believed to be my backup... alcohol ...and I squirmed out from under the grips of depression and suicide and the remaining eating disorder men stumbled back and quickly found hiding in the depths of the forest... i could breathe again... i looked down at myself breathing heavily, bloodied and scarred but I was alive when moments before I didn’t think I would be. I trusted alcohol as i once trusted Ed who eventually deceived me... or so I though i could... Alcohol wouldn’t do that to me? He showed up for me and saved me from the grasps of ED and suicide!?! Haha... how foolish.. I’ve realized for awhile now as I’m sure others have, that in which I don’t speak openly about... that the reason my back has been bothering me so much lately and I’m tired all the time is that in the “calmness” that followed me slithering out of the grasps of suicide, at least temporarily, (because i never actually killed him...he escaped.. that coward..) an entire other war was waged... alcohol had betrayed me and used the very sword it wielded to slay the ED soldiers to stab me right in the back... I’ve been walking with that blindly for awhile now... yah know I knew it the moment she touched my lips on the battle field... i just refused to acknowledge the blood pooling by my feet. And the true war lord BPD has watched this whole time... without me ever aware until now.. she sits on her thrown mockingly.. she having directed the troops and directing the officers battle after battle...

It’s been a goal of mine for awhile to live completely and absolutely soberly for a few years now.. it’s been a long time coming... I’ve been in this stage of recognition where I know what has to be done but not actually committing to the change... i never speak about this part of my journey but I was told by a very good therapist once “secrets make you sick” and I’m tired of being secret and hiding out of fear of rejection and judgement of others... well if I’m going to live the life i want so badly and inspire others as I so desperately want to.. then it is time to commit. I am to most the face of an eating disorder and more recently BPD and to some maybe more than I think I’m the face of a person who has been vehemently fighting alcoholism since I started working at Tisane. It has been almost 5 years and 5 years too many. Nowadays by definition most people who drink are considered alcoholics but it’s “ok” and someone isn’t identified as one because they are “functioning” still quite well and holding down a job. Yea I finished my bachelors education magna cum laude started a masters program continued to work full time, lived on my own for awhile and appeared to be doing fine all the while drinkibg myself until I was absolutely numb and the eating disorder and depression shut the hell up. And yah know I am grateful for alcoholism in part because it did help save me from ED it gave me a break from that war so that i could gain the strength to maintain recovery and successfully hold off those troops... but he’s had his time and i now feel in my bones the strength and determination to remove this sword from my back and attend to my wounds .. not just slap a bandaid on but really have it tended to.. I’m ready for this next battle to be very difficult and also different from the previous ones but now It know i am stronger, more resourceful, and this time I’m not on the battlefield alone ... sword and shield in hand... let the fight begin. Cheers to sobriety. Thanks for reading if you make it all the way to the end... i appreciate your willingness to take the time to hear my journey.

#recovery #eating desorders #mental health #addiction #alcoholism

[unapologeticallybella]

Dear Universe, This is Not What I Ordered.

   There’s a lot to say about someone who can leave things up to fate. Someone who doesn’t fight or try to understand why things happen but just accepts what comes to them. My whole entire life has been me just fighting everything that happens to me, whether it be by trying to change it or understand it. Nothing soothes my anxiety like repeating out loud my schedule for the day; I love making lists in my head and sometimes when I’m alone, I just repeat these lists to myself. (Yes, I think I’m okay.)Planning is everything; I like to know what to expect and what’s coming. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember; When things change, I actually want to crawl out of my body. Curveballs are stupid; unless it’s getting proposed to, but that’s the only exception I can think of. Come to find out, that’s not really how life works (disappointed is an understatement.)People die out of the blue, healthy people get sick, good people get hurt, and that’s just that. I swear I’ll find the positive to all this just give me a minute; I just have to make some morbid points first. 

   We count on things to be good; we count on things to not fall apart; I mean, at the very least, we count on things to just continue to be. When I’m alone and I think about what I want from my life, I envision all these happy things. But then I’m flooded with these worries about everything that could potentially make all of those things go to shit. For the most part, I like to be positive about where my life will go. These past few months, I’ve really shifted the way I think about control and what I can change. In reality, we have no fucking control over our surroundings. Oh, your husband you’ve been married to for twenty years? Yeah, he’s come to find out he actually fell in love with his new assistant, Beth. Him and Beth are doing better than ever, but you’re kinda getting in the way, so now he’s leaving you. That happens, now what? You can’t control that your husband might be an asshole, but you can control what you do with that information. Obviously, I’m sure you’d probably want to know all about Beth and why she’s so fucking great and then secondly you’d probably want to curb stomp your now ex husband. Unfortunately, neither of those things change the narrative and, most importantly, none of that can take away your hurt permanently. At first glance, it probably looks like you wasted a good portion of your life with an absolute stranger, which maybe you did and so what. Grieve the motherfucker, pick yourself back up, get a new hobby, change your hair, do your inner work, and heal yourself like you didn’t even know you could. If you look at it for what it really is, it’s a blessing. I mean can you imagine if you would have spent the entirety of your life with someone like that; Now that, My love, would be a waste. We all have a choice on how to react to what the Universe throws at us even when it’s definitely not what we asked for. 

   I went to lunch with this guy recently and he told me, “I’m not the kind of depressed that makes me want to kill myself. I’m the kind of depressed that makes me funny.” I swear I about choked on my Sangria. I have never related to anything more.  I deal with sadness or whatever it is that’s inside of me with humor because I’d rather laugh than cry about it, not saying I won’t cry because I definitely will. I joke about the things I don’t quite enjoy about myself, things that hurt me, things that scare the shit out of me; I don’t think it’s necessarily unhealthy. However, I’ve come to realize I have spoken a lot of shitty things into existence which sadly I have attracted into my life. I hate to sound like someone who read “The Secret” once and now thinks they’re a Law of Attraction guru but here we are. I really do believe the Universe hears what we say and returns it tenfold. I always joked that my boyfriend would leave me out in the cold in the worst possible way and turn out to be a completely different person; So the Universe said here you go baby. 

   I didn’t open up about my break up to many people, but when I did, I always went from mild sobbing to hysterically laughing. About a month into it, I was on my friend's couch telling her how everything happened and how he just disappeared. She was quite a fan of him and had always said what a great guy he was; She just watched me cry on her couch for thirty minutes just trying to understand everything for myself. The first thing she said, “I’m sorry, but this is just not what you ordered, send it back.”  And she was right; This is not what I ordered; I ordered the Filet Mignon honey, I was served a big ole plate of trash and I was charged for both. That’s when my mindset shifted about the situation; all I know is that I gave that man the goddamn world, and it meant nothing. I could sit here and reminisce all these lovely memories, go over the list (a long list I may add but who cares) of things I did to benefit his life, tell you all the ways I showed my love but for what? No matter how hard I tried to dissect it all and explain why this shouldn’t have happened, it did nothing. The Universe wasn’t really listening to all that because it didn’t change who he was. I drove home that night, and I sat in my car before going upstairs. I cried and cried; I begged the Universe to not do this to me. I asked why. I asked for help. I truly felt in my heart that this wasn’t what I deserved so I asked for answers or even a sign as to why this was happening to me. Bad things happen because they just do; the Universe obviously doesn’t give its reasons, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Those reasons were not for the Universe to just give me, they were mine to find on my own and with time, and I did. 

    When I tell you I am a better person because of the shitty things that have happened to me, I mean that with my whole heart. Also, I don’t think I would be as funny but I don’t think that’s quite as important. You don’t get to plan for these things, you don’t get to say “no thanks” and just because you hate curveballs doesn’t mean they won’t get thrown your way. I had the choice to either hold on to something I arguably loved more than myself or let it go and trust that it was all for something bigger than me. I chose to let go and release control for my own sanity. Not just regarding this relationship but for every relationship, everything I’ve ever cried for, everything that has ever hurt me, every worry and every fear; I let that shit go. Three months after that moment alone in my car, I had another moment similar to that one, only this time I didn’t cry. I sat there and thanked the Universe for showing me how strong I am because I would have never known. (I always thought of myself of this sensitive emotional weak person but boy was I so wrong.) I told the Universe someone would be so lucky to be able to experience what it feels like to be loved by me because it really is spectacular. Someone will appreciate the tiniest details about me. Someone will laugh at my jokes and they’re going to love that about me. I know someone is going to fucking love me. To be honest, I think I was heard that night by someone or something, I don’t know. For the first time of being alive, I trust that everything is exactly where it should be. I am amazed by the woman I’ve become. I am so proud of that because I never thought I could even feel this way about myself. I may not have gotten what I ordered and I may not be able to send it back but I had a choice. I chose me. 

[lisakindel]

A New Focus.

In the last year, I’ve experience emotions and situations I never thought I’d encounter and recently I've made time to reflect and reorganize my life, with a new focus about what I’m really after. 

I raced my frist Ironman at just 21, my goal was one a year until I got bored and found a new challenge. Life happened. I moved to California, I started Law School, I fell in love and honestly I gave up on my own passions. I forgot who I was, I let go of what I loved in life because I thought there was no way to make them all happen at the same time. 

When I went to law school, I had pretty much given up on training and convinced myself that there was no way I could keep up on this passion and get good grades in law school. This was my number one mistake, I lost myself. Racing and training gave me an outlet to focus on and to remind me of what life is really about. A break from the 100′s of pages of reading every week. 

After losing my Grandma and going through a break up I decided I needed to focus, I needed to figure out what I really wanted in life, what was I after, what was important to me. I started reading, and reading a lot. I must have read 20 books in two months trying to figure myself out. I realized I need to reevaluate what was happening. I sat down and made a list of things that I use to do, that I missed or that I thought would help me find myself again. I wanted to continue reading, start waking up earlier to get a workout in before my busy day started to stop making law school an excuse. I wanted to put my phone down, step away from social media, start focusing on the Bar that’s coming up, but most importantly I wanted to start listening more, giving more to others and being someone that they can always rely on. I wanted to be the person that I wanted other to be for me. 

For the past few months I have been working hard on finding my new happiness. For the first time in a while, I think I am at a point where life is making sense. I’ve learned life is a roller coaster but I am in charge of the ride. I’m the only one who can make a decision on how something will affect me and how I react to situations. 

My cardiologist has thrown at me the possibility of surgery, that I pay need a medication that would force me to not work out. I’ve learned that sometimes it’s ok to walk and not run, I’ve learned how to survive on my own, how to be independent. I’ve continued reading to learn how to better myself, continued going to counseling and I’ve started racing again when I feel up to. I feel like I’ve finally found myself again. In a few short months I will be graduating Law School for the past two years I have been in a constant state of panic about the bar and how I would pass and where I would work. I’ve started studying early, and realized I can do this. I’ll find a job and everything will work out. I've learned to accept the crazy curveballs life has thrown at me, even with a few break downs. I’m excited to continue this journey of the new me. I’ve learned that life is a marathon, not a sprint and regardless of what happens, what’s meant to be will be, and I have to take charge of my life and allow myself to be happy. 

[lovepersists2]

it was meant to be some big grand reveal  —  that the mutual pining really has been a two-sided thing  (  even with the fact that she’s always been too naive,  or too occupied,  or too…..  pregnant and busy with the plotting and the thoughts of running away to actually notice   ).   that maybe it always has been a two-sided thing.  so,  yeah,  she’s a little slow on the uptake.  and maybe she doesn’t do the best job at expressing her feelings….  ever….  but she’s trying,  right?  

she’s trying,  and that could very well be the reason his words leave her so entirely awestruck.  

like a slap to the face.

arms cross,  eyes suddenly locked on her shoes as shoulders rise and fall in a half-hearted shrug.   “well,  i was pretty sure of it until you decided to question me and send me into a terrible spiral of self-doubt and insecurity.  god.  it’s like i’m fifteen all over again.  not a feeling i ever wanted to relive,  let me tell you,  but uh…..  here we are, i guess,”    

He had thought, for YEARS, that he would never find anyone who could live up to the unstoppable FORCE that was Lorelai Gilmore. She had come into his life in a whirlwind and he was young, impressionable, and lonely where she was BRIGHT and LIVELY. He had been infatuated with her from the moment he met her and only recently did he realize it had never faded. Only recently did he realize the EXTENT to which he had missed her. He was SCARED in high school, scared of rejection, scared of losing her and Chris, practically his only friends. Now, he was the Deputy Chief of Staff to the President of the United States and he would NOT be so easily swayed.

“ Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t spiral. Don’t doubt it. I just, well I NEVER really thought I’d ever be here. With you, I mean. But you should, you know, feel free to keep talking about how you LOVE me. ”

for so long she’s done her best to craft a new life.  a life so entirely separate from the one she’d had in hartford.  a life separate from her parents,  and their plans,  and all the reminders of all the ways she’d failed to live up to all those perfect high-class connecticut standards.  maybe what she’d lost along the way,  without even realizing,  was the sense that not EVERYTHING about growing up had been so bad.  sure,  she’d always been too loud,  and too messy,  and overly willing to speak her mind   (   even if it was just to ramble nonsensically about the most inappropriate things,  leaving too many of her mother’s high-brow DAR friends utterly shocked in her wake   ).  

but not everyone had hated that,  had they?  well,  she knows chris hadn’t.  she can name a few others off the top of her head.  but,  god,  JOSH. it’s like…..  somehow it’d hurt too much to really let herself remember just how much he’d meant to her.  so RARE had it been in those days that someone had been willing to accept lorelai gilmore at face value,  without all the nasty rumor-spreading,  that when she’d left?  it’d been all too easy to pretend everything had been bad.  that everyone had been bad.  

damn it,  how she kicks herself for that now.  for all the time she’s lost,  in pretending that  —  somehow  —  josh had merely been a blip in her life,  instead of such a wonderful bright light.  one she’d been far too willing to just shove aside in the service of her own self interest.

but she’s better now,  or…..  she likes to think she is.  she’s here,  isn’t she?  she’s…..  she’s here,  and she’s said the hardest words of all.

and she’d been so prepared for a negative response that she’d brought it on herself.  lorelai had TWISTED his own doubt into something nasty.  something it hadn’t been at all.  but here he is:  reassuring,  and kind, and everything she remembers  —  but…..  better,  somehow.  the passage of time has done them both some good, it seems.

“okay,”   the word drips with awe.  strangely,  it’s that easy.  with his words,  the spiral stops  —  and she lets herself really feel it.  she loves him,  and…..  god,  it’s a beautiful feeling.   “i do love you,  josh.  i really do.  and i’m so sorry it took me so long to say so,”

Josh had accepted, a long time ago, that he would NEVER have the normal, picturesque life that society told you you should want. His job was too demanding, his life was too HECTIC. All nighters at the office, days spent in airplanes and hotels all over the United States during campaigns. Overnight trips to London, China, Russia. The conditions weren’t exactly condusive to building a relationship. Dating people in the same field ALWAYS turned into a competition and the people on the outside never understood. He’d seen MORE than enough marriages fall apart under the strain and could sometimes kid himself into thinking that being alone was better.

But then Lorelai, beautiful, hilarious, AMAZING Lorelai, had stepped back into his life and shown him he was wrong, as he so often was about these things. He hadn’t thought about her in years, FORCED himself not to wonder, not to imagine. Hearing that she’d only been an hour away the entire time he thought she was gone for good was like a betrayal and he vowed he would simply move on with his life. Connecticut was fires and dead sisters and grieving parents and too-high expectations and lost friends. He visited, sure, but visits became few and far between, excuses of being BUSY passed on through phone calls until death brought him back, once again. But there was Lorelai, showing him that death did not have to hang over his home state, that it could be HAPPY and bright like it once was. Forgiveness happened quickly and the feelings he thought he left in high school came rushing back. And now, to hear she felt the same, that she may have ALWAYS felt the same, well he couldn’t even put it into words.

“ It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. It’s a hard thing to say, I KNOW. Just so we’re clear I love you too. For a while, actually, but that’s okay you’re all caught up now. ”

life’s thrown her what can sometimes feel like more than her fair share of curveballs.  lots of good things have happened  —  she’s got a great kid, and a great job,  with great friends,  and an incredible life overall.  better than she’d ever thought she’d have for herself.  as a kid,  and a teenager,  lorelai had hated thinking about the future.  it’d felt like she was trapped,  with no hope.  amidst all of that,  josh had always been a light.  one she’d taken for granted,  and…..  done her best to pretend didn’t exist  —  because it’d felt easier.  when she’d left hartford,  lorelai had wanted a clean break.  so she’d shoved down her feelings.

shoved them down,  until she’d forgotten about them altogether.  but here they are now.  hell,  they’d come flooding back the first time she’d laid eyes on him again,  after so long.  and that had been terrifying.  feelings about from her past have classically been a bad thing.  chris,  jason,  even friends she’s only seen on occasion since moving to stars hollow  —  all of them have become associated with eventual disaster,  to some degree.  somehow,  though,  there’s been a voice in the back of her mind since josh’s reentry that’s been reassuring.  calming.  telling her over and over again that everything’s gonna be okay.

“yeah,  i tend to….  really suck at seriously sharing how i feel,”   because too often that’s led to more hurt than anything else  —  and that’s driven her to having what’s become a sometimes overwhelming fear of really committing to any sort of relationship.  once it starts to look serious,  lorelai has the terrible tendency to bolt.  but…..  maybe josh will prove to be the exception.  god,  she hopes he is.  she’s missed him,  and losing him again would hurt.   “i talk a lot,  sure.  i’m a regular motormouth.  but uh  —  serious isn’t something i do well.  is it cliche to blame that on my mother?  i’ll blame her either way,  so i don’t see why i even asked that.”   she pauses,  finally slowing down as she offers him a soft smile,   “i’m glad the feeling’s mutual.  glad we’re all caught up,  and on the same page,  and……  i promise to do my best to avoid all urges to run away.  again.  i try to stick to a strict ‘one time’ deal when it comes to that.  sort of like a get out of jail free card,  or something.  unless we’re talking about christopher,  in which case the instinct to bolt is deeply ingrained and pretty difficult to avoid.  god,  that’s the least romantic thing,  isn’t it?  talking about chris while we’re here having this poignant moment.  sorry,  i’ll  —  i’ll just stop talking before i end up with both feet in my mouth,”

#muse. ┊ lorelai gilmore! #ic. ┊ writing! #thread. ┊ gcsticulatingwildly; lorelai & josh 001!