#(flashback to four years ago when i basically slept for two days straight and had full fucking body aches and was like

[konstantya]

Me: I will just take a little nap! Maybe 20 minutes?

My inability to sleep the last three nights: Nah, bitch, you’re going out for a WHOLE HOUR.

#i really can't complain considering how little sleep i've been getting at night pfft #i'm fine i think it's just general excitement mixed with it being a rough time of year #not easter-related but easter just happens to fall really close to Rough Anniversary this year #even Rough Anniversary is pretty okay if we're being honest but i've noticed my body gets...weird #grief is weird guys #not least because it sometimes manifests more physically than mentally/emotionally #(flashback to four years ago when i basically slept for two days straight and had full fucking body aches and was like #''is this grief or is it covid???'' spoiler alert: it was grief lololol) #personal

[sorrybaescenarios]

Love me not || part two

♛ Pairing: Byun Baekhyun X Reader

♛Genre: Mafia AU, angst and fluff

♛ Warnings: Strong language, violence (in later chapters)

♛ Words: 3k

A/N: thank you so much for the support part one got, I’m still shook. I hope you’ll enjoy this one as well! Also, the words that are written in italic represent a flashback.

➵  Chapters: one || two || three || four || five || six (coming soon)

The next day, you arrived at the café as usual, with 30 minutes before opening time just so you could arrange everything. You opened the blinds, put down the chairs in their place and made sure everything looked nicely when suddenly, the bell above the entrance went off, making you aware of a new costumer. You huffed, clearly annoyed at the rude interruption as you quickly made your way to the front of the room. Do those people don’t know how to read? What’s it with everyone and coming in when it’s closed?

“Y/n~ where are you?” A warm voice sang making you recognize it almost immediately. You ran up behind the counter only to see two very familiar faces slumped in two of your bar stools, their heads resting against the cold wood, looking exhausted. You could only smile as you saw who they were, your day already getting a little brighter.

“What’s up with you two? You look like you haven’t slept in days.” You commented, poking their heads with a straw.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

You laughed, moving over to prepare their favorite drinks which would sure wake them up in an instant. Jongdae and Minseok. You’ve known them since you started going out with Baekhyun two years ago, all three of you clicking almost instantly as soon as you meet. A part of you was half expecting them to leave as well, just like he did, but surprisingly they decided to stick around. You’ve always been good friends so you’re glad that what happened between you and their best friend didn’t affect your relationship at all.

“Rough night?” you questioned, sliding their cups in front of them. As soon as the smell entered their nostrils their heads shoot up, completely awake. Jongdae was the first one to pick up his cup, taking a big gulp before setting it back down along with his head. Minseok laughed at this as he slowly sipped his coffee, closing his eyes as he savored the taste.

“Yes, I have like the worst hangover ever! I didn’t even know your head can hurt this much, I feel like I’m spinning.” Jongdae groaned in pain, closing his eyes and covering them with his hand. “How much did I even drink last night?!”

Minseok shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee before speaking. “We basically had to slap every drink from your hand until we left. You were so far gone, Sehun almost kicked your ass for mistaking him for a girl.”

You burst out laughing  at his words, grabbing the counter for support as you made your way to the sink, getting a rag from underneath the bar and putting it under the running faucet.

“Sounds like you guys had fun.” You managed to say between laughs, squeezing the excess water from the cloth before gently setting it on Jongdae’s forehead, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he visible relaxed. “What was the occasion?”

“Oh, Baekhyun is back so we – Ouch!“ a loud yell left Jondgae’s lips as he sat up straight in an instant, turning towards Minseok who seemed to shoot daggers from his eyes. If looks could kill, you’re pretty sure Jongdae would be death by know.

Your smile vanished almost instantly at the name as you turned around, trying to keep yourself busy by organizing some cups and spoons. You could hear Minseok sigh as he placed his own cup down, clearing his throat.

“We closed a very important deal yesterday, so we decided to celebrate.”

You didn’t respond, choosing to stay silent and pretend you didn’t hear anything. What Baekhyun was doing no longer concerned you now so ignoring everything about him was for the best. You were 150% sure he didn’t even spoke your name so why should you?

As you finally decided to face your friends again, the front door opened suddenly, slamming against the wall with a loud bang, making the boys turn around startled. Your eyes widened as you finally recognized the person that was in front of you, leaning over the counter and pulling your body into a warm embrace.

“Y/N! I missed you so much!”

“I – Yuna? What are you doing here?” the question blurt out before you could stop yourself, looking at the girl in front of you as she pulled away with a big smile on her face, excitement clear in her eyes.

“Y/N! You won’t believe it! Remember Chad? We are getting married!” she exclaimed, taking your hands in hers and jumping up and down.

Married?

**********

“I’m telling you Y/N. He’s great and I really think he might be the one.”

You raised an eyebrow at her statement as you took a sip of your cold beverage. “The one? Yuna, please you just meet the guy. Give it some time before you say stuff like that.”

She only rolled her eyes at you, dismissing your words. “No, really. You just have to meet him then you’ll understand! Just the other day he –“

And she went on and on about how amazing this new boyfriend of hers was, how he was always sweet with her and really seemed to love her already. At one point you stopped listening, zoning out, being left alone with your thoughts, her voice passing by as background noise. How can he be the one when they just met? How can he be so sweet and perfect? How can their relationship sound better than…yours?

Your phone lit up with a new text, your hand reaching out to take the device in your hand almost immediately.

Baekhyunnie <33: something came up and I won’t be able to come and get you. Sorry

You sighed as you set your phone back down, the word disappointment being written all over your face, not bothering to type back a reply.

‘Something came up.’ Of course it did, it always does. Why does he even bother to promise something if he always breaks it anyway? Why does he have to get your hopes up just to slap you back down in the end?

“Y/N!”

Your head shoot up, startled at the loud voice, seeing Yuna snap her fingers in front of your eyes. She frowned as she saw your expression, a slight pout appearing on her red lips.

“You didn’t hear anything I told you, did you?” she looked at you, waiting for an answer but when you only dropped your head she continued. “I said, we should go on a double date sometime. I bet Chad and Baekhyun would get along well.”

You looked up as a big grin formed on her face that was glowing with happiness and you only nodded, giving her one of your best fake smiles. That will never happen’

As her relationship become to bloom and get stronger, yours worsened, becoming more and more cold by the day. Of course you didn’t tell Yuna that, you didn’t tell anyone in fact, a part of you still hoping things might get better.

You were a fool for believing that.

**********

Yuna was still looking at you with the same wide smile, waiting for a reaction from you. Seeing this, Minseok cleared his throat, bringing you back from your thoughts. An instant fake smile appeared on your face after, mimicking hers which only seemed to widen by the second.

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you.”

She squealed with joy, bringing you in another hug before continuing. “Thank you! I’m glad you’re as excited as I am because I want you to be my maid of honor! And Baekhyun can be one of Chad’s best men! Wouldn’t that be awesome?!”

Your whole world fell apart at her words, your heart starting beating frantically in your chest as panic overtook you. A gasp left Jongdae’s lips as his eyes widened as well, Minseok looking just as shocked, Yuna’s words taking them by complete surprise.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. “Look Yuna, about that – “

A loud ringing interrupted you, making the girl reach out into her jacket’s pocket to get her phone out, looking at the screen with a big smile on her face as she saw who was calling. “I’m sorry, Y/N, do you mind if we continue this another time? I really have to go but I’ll text you okay? Don’t be a stranger!”

And with that, she ran out the door so fast, nobody even realized what happened. Jongdae and Minseok looked after her until she disappeared from their ray of vision, turning back around startled when they heard a loud thud and sighing. Your head hit the counter so hard, your hair fell forward covering your face and you bet in this moment you looked just as miserable as the boys did when they first came in.

“Well, that was something.” Jongdae finally broke the silence, chuckling awkwardly while rubbing the back of his head, not really knowing what to say.

Seeing your distressed form, Minseok got up and walked to the door, turning the ‘closed’ sign back around and welcoming two customers in with a friendly smile. Your head slowly rose from the counter at the sound of customers, making eye contact with Jongdae who only brushed your hair out of your face gently, giving you a reassuring smile. Minseok went in the back room only to come out with an apron which had your café’s logo on it, busily tying it around his waist. You opened your mouth to protest but he hushed you just as fast, leaning over the counter to take two menus.

“Let me help for a while, you know I don’t mind. Just take care of the drinks, alright?”

Your gaze moved to the other man for help, but he only shrugged, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me doll, you know there’s no winning with him.”

The corners of your mouth moved upwards in a sincere smile, nodding at Minseok before he happily took off to the table the customers were seated at, making you and Jongdae burst out laughing. If he keeps this up much longer, you’ll have to start paying him more than your actual employees.

A tiring six hours later, Jongdae and Minseok were already gone and you were preparing to close for the day when your phone buzzed with a new text, making you excuse yourself from the last table you were serving and walk to the bar, getting the device out and unlocking it.

Jia: we’re going out tonight!!!1 be ready at 8 😉

Well, I guess you have plans tonight.

***

After a relatively short drive, you and your best friend Jia, finally arrived at a club, one of the most popular ones for that matter, the one he is usually at. You tried to reason with her, convince her to go somewhere else but she wouldn’t budge, saying this is the only club that makes her favorite drink the way she likes it, the others not even coming close. Of course she’s stubborn as always, selfish bit-

“Let’s go in, come on!”

Jia got a hold of your hand and dragged you inside into the packed club, dodging every drunk person with ease until she found an empty table in the corner of the room, throwing her handbag on the surface before anyone could snatch it away. She let go and sat down, running a hand through her long black hair which matched perfectly with the little black dress she choose to wear tonight. You followed her lead and made yourself comfortable as well, crossing one leg over the other and plopping your elbows on the table, letting your eyes wander across the room, frantically scanning the place.

“So,” she started, lighting a cigarette. “little miss perfect is getting married? Wow, the poor guy.”

You turned to look at her just as she puffed the smoke in your direction, making you frown and wave a hand in front of your face to get rid of it. “Yeah, didn’t you get an invite?”

“Invite? Please, you know she can’t stand me.”

“Well, you haven’t been exactly nice the last time the three of us hung out.” You yelled over the loud music, moving your nicely done hair over your shoulder.

She furrowed her eyebrows at this, inhaling from her cigarette before puffing the smoke in your direction again. “I’m sorry I had the balls to call her out on her bullshit when you didn’t, my bad.”

Before you could respond, a tall man made his appearance at your table with a tray under his armpit, dressed in what you could recognize being the club’s uniform. “Y/n?”

Both of your heads turned at the voice, looking at the man with a confused face. Oh my God don’t tell me-

“Oh my, it’s really you! Why are you sitting here? Won’t you rather be seating in the VIP section?”

No, no, no! Why are you here? This is exactly what you were fearing the most, getting recognized by some lousy kid and having to deal with stuff like this!

“I mean,” he continued, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, clearly nervous. “The guys aren’t here tonight so I don’t know if you’d want to but –“

“Take us there, please! We don’t mind.” Jia spoke up, making your eyes widen in horror at her words as she put out her cigarette and stood up excitedly.

The boy only smiled before starting to walk. “Follow me please.”

Jia turned to face you and grinned, grabbing your hand to stand up before pushing you to start walking.

You arrived shortly and immediately started to feel uncomfortable, never liking this area much in the first place and the thought of sitting at your ex boyfriend’s table while here could be ten of his friends or even more watching made you sick to the stomach. Why does Jia always have to do some stupid shit like this? Why can’t she just listen to you?

“Come on, sit down scaredy-cat, nothing will happen to you.” She laughed, pushing out the chair in front of her with her leg.

You took a double look at everyone that was in there before sitting down, dragging your chair closer to the table. “Jia, we can’t be in here –“

“Shh, for all they know you’re Byun Baekhyun’s girlfriend, the scary business man who nobody wants to mess with. Now stop worrying and relax, you look suspicious.”

A sigh left your lips and you shook your head, accepting defeat as a tray of drinks was placed in front of you. Jia clapped her hands in joy before leaning over and getting a glass, taking it to her lips and gulping it down.

“So, let’s go back to our stuff.” She finally said after a few moments. “why didn’t you tell her about the whole break up thing?”

“I-I wanted to, it just…she left so suddenly I didn’t have the chance!”

“You could have told her when she was in Los Angeles living with her boy toy. You know, when the thing actually happened.”

You could feel Jia’s eyes watching you as you lowered your head, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. You could have, but you didn’t want to. For some reason, admitting to someone who is happily in a relationship that yours went to shit is really something you don’t want to do. Especially to someone like Yuna. You didn’t want to give her another reason to brag about how perfect Chad and their relationship is, how in love they are and blah blah. No thanks.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why you’re still friends with her.” Jia’s voice broke you away from your thoughts, making you rise your head. “All she does is brag and talk about herself. I mean, what kind of bride chooses her groom’s best man? Doesn’t he have friends of his own?”

You laughed at this, finding Jia’s reasoning amusing. “You’re just saying that because you don’t like her!”

“I do not!” she gasped, moving her hand to her chest, looking offended. “I’m serious! She doesn’t even ask you about yourself, she only talks, talks and talks. She never shuts up!”

There was a moment of silence before both of you burst out laughing, the sound making a few people nearby give you weird looks. Jia wiped a non-existent tear before standing up and holding out her hand to you, making you giggle again.

“Let’s go have some fun and not think about those -ehem- people.”

Going out with Jia proved to be the best thing you’ve done all week because you had the time of your life that night.

Getting home however, was another story. You wobbled your way to your apartment from your taxi, heels in hand and hair a mess, totally wasted. As you finally managed to unlock your door, you went straight to your room, throwing your phone on the bed and going for the bathroom when you tripped over one of your boxes. In your drunken state, this actually made you angry and you turned around and kicked the little box, making all of it’s content scatter everywhere. You groaned and dropped to the floor, picking up the mess when you realized what they were. Pictures.

Different pictures of you, your friends and him. Happy memories that you captured in photos for you to keep forever, memories that were now sitting in a box under your bed, too painful for you to remember. You picked them all up one by one and before you realized it, tears were falling from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks as you looked at all of them, especially the ones of the two of you, which filled the majority of your box. You looked so happy together, so in love.

Where did it all go wrong?

__________

- ✿ Admin D

#exo #exo scenarios #exo mafia au #exo reactions #baekhyun scenarios #byun baekhyun #baekhyun mafia au #baekhyun angst #exo angst #exo fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios

[lilith-lovett]

Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter One

It is finally here the very first chapter. I am so excited to share this with you but I’m sorry for any mistakes and just as a prior warning I have never made a trigger warning list so if you see anything I have missed please tell me so I can update it. Thanks.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3560 (I’m sorry it is so long)

Trigger Warnings: Child abuse, nightmares, mention of knife, graphic detailing of bodily harm, blood mention, self-deprecation, food mention, bullying, angst (a lot of angst), this story doesn’t start of very happy but I promise it gets better. 

Logan Baxter despised his last name. How it controlled him, branded him as someone else’s and not his own. How it seared into his skin as a permanent reminder of who owned him despite how many times he attempted to escape their chain like grip he remained trapped in, caught up in their strings as they continued their twisted play. It had been four years yet no time had passed at all. The abuse he suffered in silence for so long had finally been brought to the surface but why did that night still haunt him?

 Pain. Pain. The only sensation was pain, flaring so intensely from his shoulder spreading across his chest, his vision blurred glasses long ago torn from his face, strewn across the room. He sensed two weights upon him, one above him holding his arms down perfectly manicured nails digging into flesh and the other pressed against his chest pining his legs beneath their body preventing him from kicking, from fighting, from doing anything at all. Another scream clawed it’s way from his throat, raw from crying out as the knife sank deeper into his skin the warm trickle of liquid spilling from the open wound slowly forming and finally he knew where he was. He was back to that night, in the same vulnerable position incapable of moving, pressed under the combined weights of his parents and their featureless faces peering down at him spitting disgusting words at him as his father knife carved another letter into his skin. That night. Now permanently seared into his mind. He would never be free from their torture. Never, they would always find him and drag him back with them. To control him once again. No matter how many times he ran he would always end up back to that night. Knife drawn painfully slow over his skin etching out those letters again and again, words laced with malice echoed in a continuous loop, gradually increasing in volume until the voices were screaming so loud it drowned out everything else but the pain screamed just as loud. Each twist of the knife, carving out precisely each letter forming that grotesque scar until his father’s horrific work of art was complete. But it was not the end. the knife was raised above his head and in one clean swipe he plunged the knife into his chest.

***

Logan awoke with a jolt scrambling for his glasses until the world became clear once again, safe from any night terrors still lurking in all of the dark corners of his mind though only marginally. The third flashback this week but thankful he’d disciplined himself enough to remain silent during his brief moments of upset, as to not wake the dozen other boys he was unfortunate enough to share a room with who slept soundly mere metres away from him. He raked his trembling fingers through his unkempt hair slick with sweat. Why was he like this? He was supposed to be over it. He had gotten over it. Then why did he still feel like this? He despised these pesky emotions, why did they haunt him so? Logan collapsed back onto his bed his mind swarming with unanswered questions and unsolvable puzzles. However, with hours before first light sleep would not be finding him any time soon so instead he buried himself beneath his paper thin sheets with his book and flash light to pass the time, he found his hand wandering to hover over a spot on his chest but he seconds later he forced it into the his side and his eyes returned to their place on the page. While reading, hours past like minutes to Logan but not before long the devilish Madame Claire the Orphanage’s head matron and namesake made her daily rounds beginning with an unwelcome wake up call after which they would dress, Logan as far away from the others as humanly possible in the minimal space to avoid drawing any attention to the scars which littered his body. He removed his typical outfit from his drawer a soft navy blue long sleeved shirt decorated with white detailing and a pair of dark trousers, he found enjoyment in having the control of what he wore - to an extent - but yet it was an outfit his mother would have approved of. He dragged a brush through his dark locks, ignoring the sting of the bristles against his scalp and assessed his appearance in the mirror. His skin was pale, illogical freckles hardly visible, his clothes were simple and in immaculate condition. It was satisfactory but his gaze continued to flicker over his face at the square framed glasses he had been forced to repair with elastoplast after an incident with a group of children, they made him look unprofessional, childish, unkempt he nearly considered going without them but the thought of stumbling around half-blind deterred him from that decision and not before long he had joined the others for breakfast.

 Meal times were a dreaded time for Logan, he sat isolated from the rest of the children at his own table, book in hand and a bowl porridge sat in front of him which he took minuscule bites of every so often. He’d grown accustomed to the stares and hushed whispers shared between friends knowing full well the subject matter, despite him being one of the eldest and having had been at the Orphanage longer than most - two years to be specific - he had formed no relationships with any of the others. It was a pointless endeavour. Sooner or later they would be adopted and he would be left behind, nobody wanted someone like him. Too aloof, too robotic, too damaged for anyone to truly love so he chose solitude instead and as time went on be became less lonely and revelled in the silence this brought. One by one people began breaking off presumably to play in the common room leaving Logan to his book, only pages from the end he hadn’t allowed his attention to divert from the novel that Miss Maggie the Orphanage’s teacher and the only other person he was close to had gifted him his porridge now completely forgotten.

 Once Logan completed his book and returned to reality he closed it with a satisfied sigh tracing the elegant, intricate design of the cover before setting it down on the table finally scanning the now empty dining hall. Peering once again at the abandoned meal he noticed a small pot of strawberry jam that hadn’t been there before a minuscule smile appeared on his face. Strawberry jam was his favourite and the only other who knew of this information was Miss Maggie who must have smuggled the delicious fruit spread from the kitchens for him, he made a mental reminder to thank her for her kindness later as he spooned the jam into his porridge, making the near inedible slop bearable though still half the portion remained when he ultimately physically shoved the bowl away from him. Never completely finished a meal. The words circled his mind, echoing in his ears compelling himself out of his seat his stomach only partially full still craving the sweetness of the jam. No, he didn’t need it such luxuries were unnecessary food was essential for survival he required the basic nourishment and no more. Squeezing his eyes shut the voice vanished as quickly as it arrived and he returned to his former cool composure and left without another thought towards his discarded breakfast.

 Open days were the worst. Weekly occurrences when adults could enter freely to view the children as if they were animals in a zoo or exhibits in a museum. Logan had personally suffered through a considerable number of these events both at Madame Claire’s and his previous care home. Every one was the same. Beforehand they would gather in the common room dressed in their finest clothes, skin scrubbed of any marks, not a single hair out of place and Madame Claire would relay the rules and scrutinize their appearances though would rarely find any fault in Logan’s which bothered her to no end but however he wasn’t immune to Madame Claire’s belittlement and today unfortunately was no different. Twenty of them stood in a straight line at the mercy of the devil herself, as she surveyed her victims one by one pointing out any flaws until she reached Logan who stood at the end a sizeable distance between him and the previous girl who recoiled from him almost immediately, her piercing gaze took him up and down her eyes searching frantically for the tiniest of faults to justify the scolding he would surely be receiving but unsurprisingly she found none her furrowed brow and deathly glare being the indicator Logan nearly smiled. Madame Claire like the rest of them also adorned her best most expensive clothes she found great pleasure in reminding everyone of how expensive they were, her blindly bright floral ensemble which hugged her pudgy body underneath white faux fur draped over her shoulders, black strappy heels and her face painted as if she were a performer not the head matron at an Orphanage but this choice in attire was typical for her.

 “You better fix those glasses, I do not wish for you to embarrass us any more you already have,” Madame Claire snarled saliva forming at the corner of her blood red lips before curling into a malicious grin. Such mockery was frequent though Logan did seem to endure the brunt of the abuse but over the years had grown used to it.

 “Yes, madame,” Logan said the sniggers and whispers not escaping his attention but he ignored it nonetheless his gaze firmly pointed towards the floor avoiding Madame Claire’s burning glare and the prying eyes of the others.

 “That’s right, now the rest of you are dismissed I need to have a word with Mr Baxter here,” She sneered drawing out each individual syllable of his surname as a way to torment him even further and he knew what was coming next. The others skipped out of the room their giggles gradually growing fainter as they exited abandoning him to the cruel mercy of Madame Claire. “Logan, now you and I both are aware no one would ever be so stupid enough to adopt you so you better go and make yourself invisible because if I hear a single peep out of you for the rest of the day you know what will happen. Understand?”. Logan only nodded having heard this same speech a thousand times before, the same reminder that no one could ever love him he had grown accustomed to.

All of a sudden, Madame Claire’s eyes grew dark and without warning she reached out a hand towards Logan gripping the sides of his face sinking her manicured nails into his cheeks yanking his face towards hers. His heart hammered within his chest, his eyes growing wide with shock and panic, his lungs rapidly expanding and deflating yet he received no oxygen as the pain blossoming from the fresh indents in his cheeks brought about old yet familiar memories of his life back home - if he could even call it that - whenever he spoke out of turn or said to much his mother would seize the sides of his face forcing his mouth shut by digging her nails into his flesh until it bled.

 “Do you understand me!” Madame Claire barked spit flying onto his face.

 “Yes Madame,” He whimpered as a wicked smile broke out across her face at the fear upon his own and she released him with a sharp shove causing him to stumble backwards due to the weakness in his knees and was forced to grasp a hold of the nearest surface unsure of his ability to remain upright. Madame Claire cackled at the pitiful sight as she went to make her exit.

 “Now don’t forget it,” She said her malicious smile melting away to reveal a sweet one which sent shivers throughout Logan’s body and flounced out of the room leaving Logan alone with his suffocating thoughts.

 After returning his glasses to their correct position of his nose Logan’s mask of cool, calm and collectedness glossed over his face again mulling over various ways in which to reduce the growing redness of his face in his mind eventually deciding a cold compress would be suitable, after concealing the injury and swapping out the tape holding together his glasses he made his way to Miss Maggie’s office a small yet comfortable space smelling regularly of vanilla from the candle she kept burning on her desk. It only contained a few pieces of furniture; an oak desk and chair set atop which lay piles of ungraded papers, essays and lesson plans for the following week, an overflowing bookshelf which held only a tiny portion of her book collection and a large maroon armchair decorated with ivory throw pillows. Typically Logan arrived at Miss Maggie office without fail at precisely the same time everyday but with the unexpected outburst this morning he was late, something he hated being, reaching her office he found it unlocked and the faint sound of a piano ballad could be heard from inside he hesitantly pushed open the door not wishing to disturb her.

 Opening the door Logan saw Miss Maggie sat at her desk, her raven black waves piled atop her head secured with a red headband, dressed in a flattering black dress with a silver necklace hung around her neck, she was bent over a substantial pile of papers pen in hand examining each paper thoroughly and with care humming along to the soothing tinkling of keys and rising and falling of notes coming from the radio her reading glasses balancing on the tip of her nose. Miss Maggie had been the Orphanage’s teacher since before Logan arrived and naturally the two struck up a bond, he had a passion for learning absorbing information like a sponge absorbed water regarding any and all topics unlike the majority of others who much rather participate in playful activities than curl up with a book on astronomy - one of his favourite subjects - lessons occurred three times a week and everyone would gather in the classroom to be taught basic arithmetic, spelling, American history and many other subjects but Logan’s enhanced intelligence was no secret and he had already surpassed his grade long ago progressing onto further advanced school work. While most either played outside or in the common room Logan found himself indoors studying drawing the attention of Miss Maggie who began offering books and they formed a mutual understanding between them, Logan would use her room and Miss Maggie would provide a new book for him weekly initially non-fiction related to his research projects then gradually delving into the world of fiction something which he immensely enjoyed but a fact few people knew and a fact he preferred to keep to himself. Now, Miss Maggie was the only person Logan would speak openly with. Maggie glanced up from her desk at Logan who lingered awkwardly in the doorway and her face broke into her typical warm and welcoming smile shoving her papers aside to invite him in.

 “Hello Logan, I was wondering when you were going to arrive,” Maggie said leaning casually against her desk removing her glasses tucking them safely away in the little black box sat on her desk amongst her belongings.

 “Open day,” Logan said nonchalantly before lowering himself into the armchair sinking into the cushions as Maggie fiddled with some of the items from her desk. “Thank you for the jam,”.

 “Jam, what jam I never gave anyone any jam,” Maggie teased shrugging her shoulders for emphasis, momentarily Logan was perplexed before recognising this as one of Maggie’s attempts to be humourous so out of politeness he chuckled despite his confusion.

 “Oh I almost forgot, I have something for you,” Maggie said eyes brightening as she dug around in her desk drawer a short while later conjuring a small rectangular package from it. “Happy birthday Logan,”.

 Logan stared dumbfounded at the package in his hands. He had forgotten his own birthday, grand celebrations were uncommon but most others made everyone well aware of the date but he never understood why it was considered so important, it simply was a record of the day he was brought into the world it held no national significance even while he was still living at home each birthday was treated as regular day but yet he held the present close to his chest extremely grateful that Miss Maggie took the time and effort to prepare him a gift. He carefully unwrapped the paper so to not ruin the delicately wrapped gift to reveal a novel ‘Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Scarlett’ by Arthur Conan Doyle a book he had been longing to read ever since the Orphanage’s copy was destroyed by one of the younger children but never replaced, his eyes lit up with joy as he traced the beautifully illustrated front cover inhaling the new book smell. This was the best gift he had ever received.

 “So, do you like it?” Maggie asked a hopeful look in her eyes as she tugged anxiously at the hem of her dress.

 “I do, thank you,” Logan replied offering her a small but sincere smile which seemed to ease the tension in her shoulders releasing a sigh of relief.

 “Good, you should head back now the Open day will be starting soon,” Maggie stated a sympathetic smile appearing on her kind face knowing how much Logan despised the Open day’s and how he had given up on the hope of ever being adopted as he regularly came to her for advice on what to do when he is eventually kicked out at eighteen though however still had years until then, she would remind him to remain positive and to keep an open mind but Logan had grown tired of his hopes being shattered again and again. “And don’t give up yet,”.

 Miss Maggie’s parting words remained with Logan as he ventured down the hallway towards the common room where soon a handful of potential adoptive parents will gather and take their pick of the litter and where Logan would soon be forced to remain until either a miracle occurs and someone shows some interest in him or he finds an opportunity to escape but the familiar weight of a book in his hand put his mind at ease slightly. Arriving at hell’s entrance way he spotted some of the others already playing though most were glued to the windows waiting in anticipation for the arrival of the adults as the majority were still in the optimistic phase that Logan never went through, he found himself gravitating towards the uninhabited reading area located at the back of the common room out of view from the others where he settled himself into his usual armchair and glanced around at the brightly coloured room where they gathered daily. It was bright intensely so, colour attacked every single nook and cranny of the moderately sized room, messily drawn pictures decorated the walls and toys occupied all available space though now many where strewn across the floor irritating Logan but he managed to tear his gaze away from the disarray of the play room returning it to his book sighing in relief once again as he began to drift into the story but his enjoyment was short-lived as that wretched bell sounded indicating the arrival of the adults.

 Open day was torture as per usual, in the beginning he was approached by a young, bright-eyed couple every few minutes only out of pity for noticing him all alone but he swiftly frightened them away with his aloofness and robotic nature. Nobody wanted an emotionless child and he was left in peace to read his book. Now there was a small quantity of couples mulling around the room talking and playing rather loudly with the younger and more excitable children typically the first to be snatched up he was much to old now, every so often he would glance up from his reading to survey the room searching for any possible escape routes which wouldn’t alert the attention of Madame Claire or anyone of the other matrons until he spotted one. It was risky but the quietness of his room would be well worth the risk but just as he prepared to disappear a figure approached him forcing him begrudgingly back into his seat frowning as he watched his only hope of freedom dissipate before his eyes.

Tag List (work in progress)

Some people asked me to tag them in future posts so if you want to be added the the tag list please tell me so I can add you.

@poems-art-darkness-n-more @i-do-not-dislike-fudge

#sander sides au #sander sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deciet sanders #Adoption AU #original characters #Found Familes #Home is Where the Hart is #thomas sanders #Logic sanders #anxiety sanders #Morality sanders #creativity sanders #My writing #my fic #I'm so excited to finally share this #please read the warnings

[ignitingwriting]

Igniting Writing ‘Connections’ Contest 2021, Submission by Bliss

The Worst Dream of My Life

Two years, 24 months, 104 weeks, 730 days, 17240 hours. Yep, that’s how long I’ve lived. Lived in guilt, misery and pain, that is. I am 14 years old, but the previous two years of my life have led me to believe my existence is a shattered window, a mistake made in permanent marker, a precious artefact when broken is unable to be fixed. Two years ago my life was ruined and this is how.

My past.

My name is Fiona Saunders. I have hair as red as roses and emerald green eyes. I am slightly over average height and a loyal, kind person – usually, anyway. I grew up with the best parents ever. When I was really young I longed for closer connections.

When my parents sent me to nursery I made the best friends I had ever had. There was Michelle – her hair was a bright blonde, she was very tall for her age and was a sweet, gentle person. There was also Serenity; average height with dark brown, long hair. She was as serene and calm as her name implied. Bree was a living firework. Her hair was rose-gold and always sure to put a smile on your face. Finally, my ultimate best friend Crystal – she was all these character traits whisked together. She had white-blonde hair which enhanced her angel persona. We had been best friends for years! Until…

Two years ago.

It was a few days before my 12th birthday and we were having an epic sleepover at Crystal’s house. Makeovers, movies, pillow fights, midnight snacks, secrets – you name it. The positive aura was so high it would’ve broken a scale. After what seemed like hours, we settled down. Late at night or early in the morning, I laid my head down and escaped reality.

When we awoke we saw Sophie (Crystal’s big sister – basically a prettier, older version of her). “Girls, you need to get dressed for the shopping day!”

She patted our suitcases. My mind whizzed; last night had wiped thoughts of the future away. I got dressed in my favourite hoodie and shorts. I went to the window to check the weather but it was heavy pouring against the glass.

We ran downstairs and got in the car. Five minutes later it was madly pouring – my heart was rapidly pacing but my friends were so happy I couldn’t spoil that. Terrified, I attempted to join in the laughter. Each drop of rain created clouds, covering my positive sunshine.

Suddenly I glimpsed a large lorry and it was heading towards us! I was paralysed, heart beating like a drum. At last I screamed out to Sophie, but it was too late. When she looked to me, time froze. A deafening crash rang in my ears and my stomach flipped. Screams, yells, then silence.

I remember the stiffness of the bed I was carried on. The teardrops landing on my face, the voices slipping through my ears. After multiple checks, I discovered the accident had given me a concussion, I had broken my right leg and my arm blossomed with purple bruises.

I stayed in hospital for two weeks. All that time I felt no pain, just anxiety for my friends’ health; for all I knew, they could be in a vegetative state. Sweat started to build up in my hospital gown and I couldn’t think straight. My parents avoided eye contact, but my anger got the better of me.

“WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS?!” I shrieked, eyes watering.

To my shock I wasn’t the only one with moist eyes. My mum and dad didn’t respond, but a nurse entered the room. Her face was in a melancholy state. She had obviously heard everything.

“I’m so sorry, but your friends didn’t survive the crash.”

Who knew a sentence could break your heart? No, try banish my heart from existence. In that moment I knew. My chest was empty now and my legs gave way as I tumbled to the ground.

When I awoke, my eyes revolved. I was at home. But it didn’t feel like it, not without my friends. My brain whirred as I remembered. My friends were dead… dead, they were never coming back and it was all my fault. I lost my soul sisters and my mentor who was like my big sister.

As time passed, I changed. My red hair was now dyed pitch black, my emerald eyes faded to grey and I only wore black – navy for special occasions, if there were any. I converted from vibrant, blissful beauty to a melancholy goth look-a-like.

I blamed myself so hard for the deaths, any harder would’ve killed me. It may’ve been wrong, but I would give anything to have replaced them orgone with them. Consoling me only made me feel worse. When people said it wasn’t my fault it was a case of blatant lying. My life was over but I was alive. And that was the worst thing ever.

Present day.

My name is Fiona Saunders. I am 14 years old now, but my life isn’t any easier. I am still a stupid mistake and, of course, self-blamingly friendless. I’ve just finished school term at Woodhall High. It’s the summer holidays. Great.

A reminder of my past is just what I need. My best friends’ funeral memorial is coming up, on my birthday. Swell! The only way I stayed healthy and well was due to my parents unconditionally loving me.

Trudging, I opened the door to my room. Since… you know, I’ve redecorated. My walls are dark grey and I only have a wardrobe, mirror and dressing table, along with my bed. I laid in bed, drowsy, and I slept.

I could hear crying – strangely familiar. I looked around and gasped. It was me from 10 years ago. I was four years old, longing for my parents on my first day of preschool. I had stopped crying when I felt a tap on my back. There were four girls behind me.

“Are you alright?” asked the taller one, with long, blonde hair. Another girl with rose-gold hair passed me a tissue.

“You were crying a lot. Do you miss your mummy?” questioned the girl with dark brown hair.

I nodded miserably. The final girl with white-blonde hair hugged me.

“Hello, I’m Crystal and we are all part of the Sad Police. If you’re sad, we can help with hugs.”

I laughed and so did they. That was the tale of my friendship’s origin.

Opening my eyes, I grinned. It felt lovely to remember that. I sat up and yawned. That was when I noticed I wasn’t alone.

“Hello Fiona, miss us?”

“Crystal, Serena, Michelle, Bree?!” I shrieked, overwhelmed. “How are you here? You… I… but… dead… what?”

Bree laughed. “Can’t we see our best friend from time to time? We flew down to see you!”

Serena nodded and ruffled my hair. “That’s right old chap!”

I giggled, attempting to hide it.

Michelle smiled at me. “You’re so tall and grown up now, compared to a few years ago.”

My heart sank a little, knowing she was referring to when she last saw me.

Crystal saw my face and spoke. “Don’t worry, silly. Past is past. Speaking of past, what happened to your style?”

I told them everything about what I’d felt, the life changing sentence, the flashback. Their expressions were so empathetic my sadness lifted slightly.

“Poor Fi. Hey, I know what to do! Girls, all give Miss Goth a past makeover – but better!” exclaimed Crystal. The others whooped excitedly and got started.

Two hours later they allowed me to look in the mirror. I gasped. I was beautiful again! Red locks once again flowed from my head, soft and silky. My eyes were a joyful sparkly green and I was dressed in bright clothes. I felt so free, so loved, so happy. Until –

“I’m sorry, Fi, but we really must get back now,” Crystal said.

Once again, a sentence changed my life.

“So that’s it, then?” I asked. “You’re just going to come back and give my life purpose, then take it away? Do you have any idea how much I suffered? I blamed myself for everything, almost died of heartbreak and now you’re walking into my life just to LEAVE?!”

I was shouting now, overcome with anger, grief and confusion. But then I saw the faces of my friends. Emotions were stirred up. I saw the devastation, guilt and sympathy written within their eyes, but I also saw fear. I felt so awful then, so monstrous.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, tears trickling down my cheeks. I kept saying it and suddenly I rose and walked up to the mirror.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY!” I yelled and smashed my head against the mirror. The pain was excruciating, but I kept going on ‘til I lost consciousness and feel down.

“I’m sorry.”

Panting, I opened my eyes and rubbed them.

“What?” I said. My arms and hands looked so young. Crystal, Bree, Serena and Michelle entered, looking worried.

“Thank God you’re awake! You’ve been sleep talking so much!” exclaimed Bree.

“I know, right?” agreed Serena.

They chatted and chatted, oblivious to my relief and utter elation. I was 12, loved, not alone and what I felt and saw, the pain and guilt – it was just a dream.

#igniting writing #writing challenge #writing contest #writing competition #teen writers #writing for teens #wokingham #creative writing #writing club #writing group #connections

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

Call It What You Want thoughts

So I was going to wait until release date and do my thoughts on all the songs off Reputation in one post like what I did for Rainbow. Part of the reason for that was quite frankly, I didn’t have too much to say about each of the three songs we had before day on a personal level. Literally, while I thought Look What You Made Me Do and Gorgeous were good songs and Ready For It was a great one, it was at the point of me basically just going to be saying what parts I liked and didn’t. However, I have a lot to say personally about Call It What You Want. So much so that I really don’t think putting it in a post with my thoughts surrounding the others songs is appropriate. 

Professional views:

I mentioned earlier today before the song came out, this song was needed before the album release on a professional level. Typically I would not say this because honestly, typically I would not advocate releasing a quarter of your album before the release date. Like honestly, usually I would go with the approach Ed did for Divide where he released the two most different sounding songs off the album. However, in this case, I think Taylor played her cards right. Taylor is not blind nor stupid. While releasing three very different sounding songs is great for pulling in the general public, she learned from 1989 that if her fans are saying they aren’t convinced or feeling her work, she has to do something to convince them. Because at the end of the day, they are her main audience, especially in an era like this where she’s using less means to pull in new audiences like interviews and so on. 

In saying all of this, it shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone by this stage that more of the fandom wasn’t feeling the parts we had heard from Reputation so far in comparison to 1989 where Shake It Off, Out Of The Woods and Welcome To New York were released and especially earlier works. It was at the point where fans, myself included to some degree, were wondering how much secret sessioners were exaggerating by saying that this album could match and even surpass RED in quality. I especially had my concerns because everything that was being said was things I heard about 1989 before hearing it, and honestly, 1989 was not my favourite album. But I repeat what I said earlier; Taylor is not blind or stupid. She saw all of that and was well aware of what that might mean come two weeks time when first week sale amounts come in along with her career further down the track. The easiest fix was to release a song that was far more stereotypical Taylor Swift than the previous three to show those of us who were worried that there’s no reason to be, especially considering I’ve heard that this song is the closest out of the songs we’ve had to the ones we haven’t heard yet. The old Taylor may be dead, but her song making skills did not die with her. It was a brilliant business move, and honestly, was the selling point for me surrounding this album... I say as if I wasn’t going to buy the album anyway, but you get my point.

Personal feelings:

As I implied earlier, Call It What You Want is the first of the Reputation tracks we’ve had that I felt a connection to emotionally. It is also one of my favourite Taylor songs ever. So umm, usually I don’t do this, but I’m going to go through why this song means so much to me personally. Because here’s the thing, while it’s obviously incredible Taylor has found this love, end of the day, I’m not here for Tayjoe or any other couple, I’m hear for brilliant, relatable music. Just as a heads up, there will be discussion around sexual assault, suicide and emotional abuse.

So, for me, this is somewhat a bittersweet song because the type of love she’s talking about is the type I had with my ex boyfriend who I am still very much in love with. But, while it’s obviously not sunshine and rainbows being apart from him, this song has just added to my appreciation for my ex and that relationship. Because as I’ve learned from my mother during my parent’s divorce, not everyone even gets to experience that love in their lifetime. So the fact I did is just incredible.

To put this song in perspective, we’re going to jump back just over six years ago. I was just shy of sixteen. A few months earlier, one of my best friend’s committed suicide in front of me. One of the major reasons this occurred was due to relentless bullying from a group of boys who happen to be friends with my brother. These boys, and particularly the “head” boy, never played fair. I was always a very naive teenager. Never naive enough to trust them, but naive enough to think their behaviour would never go past “boys will be boys” and that I, a 160cm tall, slightly overweight girl, could hold my own against six taller, more masculine guys because I could outwit them verbally. To this day, I don’t know which one of them “officially” took my virginity.

As early as the next morning, they had started telling people I willingly slept with them, that I was one of the predicted 0.7% cases that falsely accused men of rape. They also went as far as to say that I had killed my friend and altered the video from the security cameras his parents had in their house. The second one didn’t stick quite as well, but I can still definitely say that I found out who my true friends were in regards to people’s response to the first.

That lead to a series of events where my personality, much like Taylor, that was once a flowerbed of kindness, grew back as thorns. And I don’t want to say that it turned Taylor into a bad person, because I don’t think it did, but it certainly turned me into one. That overflowed when I found myself stuck in an abusive friendship which brought out the worst in me. Literally, I compare us to Joker and Harley Quinn, so hearing the “All the jokers dressing up as kings” line today just made me smile. Eventually I found it in myself to leave, but even then it felt like it because a me vs him situation and I made the mistake of cutting off innocent bystanders that knew/realised nothing of the situation and I know realised would have stood by me if I told them rather than just assuming they knew and cutting them off, a mistake I’ve only learned not to make very recently.

Likewise, as anyone who pays attention to my blog knows, my family life was never really as stable as I wanted it to be, and this was the period where things really jumped from “normal family with bratty child (my sister)” to legitimately toxic and even abusive at times and all the lasting trouble started.

And then there was my ex. I’m not going to sit here and say he was the only one who loved me in any capacity of the word because that would just be a lie. But he was one of the few that showed his love in a way that I felt, even at my worst. We started dating somewhere between starting that abusive friendship and ending it, but even before that, he was one of my best friends and one of very few people I feel fully got what I was going through and the type of help I needed even if he had never been through it. I don’t know, even though we had our friends like all relationships do, I always felt loved around him.

Throughout all these bad events and everything that manifested from them, he was there to take me away from it all, both psychologically and physically. I couldn’t count the amount of times he told me that if I wanted to leave to just tell him the word and we’d be gone. Or the amount of times he’d have boys/work nights planned and cancel them because I showed up in tears or was just generally not having a good day. One of the things I realised when this relationship ended was just how much my needs always came first. And it was never intentional, but it just reflects how loved I was that it turned out that way with barely a peep from him any time during our four and a half years together.

But even with all that and the clear similarities shown in the unconditional love he gave me and that that Joe has seemed to give Taylor, nothing hit me as hard as “Loves me like I’m brand new”. Most rape victims will tell you that even on our best of days, it’s hard not to feel like used goods or broken. And yet, my ex never once treated me like any less than new.

In fact, one of the most prominent memories I have with my ex was the first night we tried to be sexually intimate early on in our relationship. Long story short, it was his birthday. We had gone for this incredible dinner and decided as my family was away doing different things at the time that we’d head back to mine. We started kissing and as we went to go further, I froze up and started getting flashbacks. At the time, I was a lot less confident with myself than I am now, was well aware of his reputation for liking sex and hence was terrified he’d leave me if I didn’t sleep with him. I tried to push my way through it. However, he noticed straight off and stopped there and then, refusing to believe the crap I was sprouting about being okay and wanting to continue. Instead, he just held me while I cried and fell asleep next to me when I had calmed down. Still, internally I was freaking that the moment I fell asleep, he was going to leave. So I stayed up as long as I could... but all nighters have never been my thing, even when my PTSD based nightmares are at their worst. The next morning, I woke up alone and began to cry, so sure I had stuffed everything up. But then I heard my bedroom door and there he was, carrying the breakfast he had just cooked. He noticed how upset I was straight off and wouldn’t stop apologising for not making it clear he was still around before leaving me and telling me how the night before hadn’t changed anything between us, that me not being able to or even not wanting to sleep with him didn’t change anything and he still wanted everything we had been working towards. And even though I felt so so stupid for not checking before assuming he had left me, to this day I’ve never felt so loved as in that moment. So just hearing that line in this song just gives me chills every time and makes me think of that moment. And once again, the fact that I got to feel that kind of love in my life just makes me feel so blessed because I know not everyone gets that chance in life.

So this was a lot longer than I was expecting, but yeah, all up this song means the absolute world to me and was an incredible business move for Taylor to make. I can now officially say that I am excited to hear what the rest of Reputation has in store and come tomorrow will have preordered it and will be counting down the days until its release next week.

#taylor swift #reputation album #call it what you want #tw rape #tw abuse #tw suicide #about me