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blush-and-books · 3 years

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always you-shaped thoughts inside my head

so, we found wonderland, the amazing fanfic by @pink-flame ended this week. as a result of my deep and sorrowful mourning, i wrote a fanfic for a fucking fanfic. yes, everyone, we have reached that point. so if you’re one of the unfortunate souls who hasn’t read it then you can start here and do not read this if you don’t want spoilers babes!!!!

anyways, i don’t want to talk about how much i cried when i wrote this. moving on. title from find u again by mark ronson ft. camila cabello and once again THANK YOU @pink-flame FOR THIS WORK, I LOVED IT, I LOVE YOU, ENJOY

A/N: the first part of this is a reimagining of a scene from the story, and the second part is more of a deleted scene. grab tissues if you’re one who cries easily. also tagging @bluefirewrites because i kept texting you while writing this

Julie doesn’t know in what timeline she thought that going to the bookstore would be a good idea.

Even with her back flat against the wall and Luke’s book clutched identically between her hands and the palms of every other eager fan in the room, she felt like she was too close. Like this was a mistake.

She was the one who insisted they don’t look for each other.

But here they were. Him, with a poem that crossed time with the silent, lost plea for her to come back to him; her, who chose to answer the call even if she knew she shouldn’t have. Julie should have realized that she couldn’t avoid him forever. Their paths were meant to cross in every universe.

When he takes the stage, she doesn’t shatter. Yet.

People are swamped beside her and Flynn on all sides, and she still feels like it’s just the two of them. Once he’s in her line of sight, it’s only him in the room, only him that exists.

In a world where she’s jumped to and from across time, Luke may be the most real thing she’s ever known.

The words he says as he reads and answers questions hit her ears as just a series of tones and syllables that are achingly familiar. He’s laughing through one of the book’s anecdotes and suddenly she’s back in the arcade, laughing with him at the pinball machine. He’s talking about the rush of playing their first sold-out show, and she’s back in the greenroom as he heatedly kisses her up against a wall after she spent so much time fighting for him to love her again.

He’s reading about his parents, and she’s back on that pull-out couch that was only comfy when he was in it; listening to him whisper about their fragmented relationship.

But then a 20-year-old pokes him about the poem. And he says he loves her -- well, not explicitly, but he says it’s about love -- and the other shoe drops.

Tears inundate her eyes.

“I have to go,” her voice shakes as a sob threatens to rip through her words. Flynn offers to join, but Julie needs fresh air and to be alone and to just let her tears fall onto the asphalt of an alleyway without feeling the need to explain herself. She will always be alone in these emotions, in this heartbreak, and that’s okay -- she just doesn’t want anyone to act like they get it.

So she passes her book to Flynn, urges her to get it signed, and flees out the side door.

Right before she’s out, the 20-year-old presses on about Find Me: “Well, what if they came to you now? What if they found you? Wouldn’t you be happy to see them?”

The exit slams shut behind her and she doesn’t get to hear his answer.

“Well, what if they came to you now? What if they found you? Wouldn’t you be happy to see them?”

Flynn watches intently as Luke’s eyes darken. The book feels heavy in her hands, and she feels like she is suddenly intruding on an intimate moment between Luke and Julie -- even with Julie gone.

She didn’t always understand what happened with her best friend. But this was clearly a mind, body and soul situation.

Luke has to clear his throat and blink rapidly before answering. “God, sorry, that one caught me a little!” The audience chuckles. “No one’s asked me that so far on this tour. That’s a good question. I probably think about it more than I should, but… I mean, first of all, they wouldn’t come and find me. I know them well enough to know that Find Me just… Went out into the universe with no expectation of a response. But if they decided too, I… I’d wanna make sure they were happy. And I’d probably thank them one more time for everything they did when I was younger. I would probably be in shock, honestly. I haven’t seen them in a long time.”

Flynn is wiping her nose with a stray tissue from her purse before she can even register that she’s started crying.

The random people in the back row with her send her strange looks, wondering why she’s getting so emotional, but hearing Luke talk about her best friend like that…

“Do you still love them?”

God, this person won’t give him a break!

The rockstar visibly tenses up, and the easy grin plastered on his face breaks. That’s when his manager hustles onstage and announces that they are going to start the signing; and everyone needs to start lining up.

Flynn has to fight to get farther up in line, but it’s worth it when she reaches him.

“Hi,” he smiles, “who should I make it out to?”

The word makes her tongue feel like lead. “Julie.”

His head snaps up, and he’s fully looking at her for the first time. There are a thousand Julie’s in the world, but he knows it’s his.

“I’m her best friend,” Flynn continues, shifting her teary eyes down to her converse because fuck Julie wasn’t kidding when she said his eyes were intense sometimes.

“Flynn.”

“Oh... She told you-”

“Where is she? Is she here?”

She’s not even looking at him, but he sounds so desperate, and the water in her eyes swells as she glances at the exit off to her side. “Not right now. But she wanted me to get this signed for her.”

Luke’s Sharpie doesn’t move across the inside cover. In fact, he’s frozen; staring off in the distance with what Flynn is sure must be a whirlwind of emotion that he didn’t ask for. Flynn isn’t sure how to handle it -- they’re in public, and she’s minorly concerned she just sent him spiraling, and they don’t even know each other -- but she feels the need to relay a message since he’ll never get to hear it from Julie himself.

“She…” Luke looks back up at her; eyes boring into hers in a way that could tug the truth out of anybody. As she blinks, an enthusiastic tear drops onto her cheek, and she instantly lifts her index finger under her eye to catch anything else. “Fuck, my eyeliner. Sorry. Anyways-”

The words get caught in her throat again, so she has to take another deep breath. Helping star-crossed lovers communicate when they are almost thirty years apart is more emotionally taxing than she anticipated.

“She’s really proud of you,” Flynn finally manages with a voice squeakier and higher than she ever wants to hear it again. Another tear falls from her other eye. “She loves y- your music, and hopes that you have everything you wanted and she’s so proud of you for everything you’ve built.”

At this point, the crumpled tissue in her hand has been helping her dry her eyes because standing in front of Luke Patterson and trying to tell him that the love of his life still cares -- still watches from afar, still wants the world for him -- is making her realize the emotional turmoil that Julie must have been feeling all this time.

How did she do it?

In front of her, Luke is rubbing his hands over his face and audibly takes a deep, sniffly breath in. Turning to the same woman who got onstage to transition the event before, he informs her: “I need to get some air.”

“Luke, where are you-”

But he’s already forcefully pushing himself back in his chair, grasping the book off of the signing table, and darting out the same exit that Julie stormed through ten minutes ago.

When the manager turns to look at Flynn -- she bolts away and towards the front entrance. If Julie and Luke are about to meet in that alleyway, she doesn’t want to intrude. Even if she already fucked up both of their plans to never see each other again.

Julie is still hyperventilating and sobbing in the alleyway when the emergency exit loudly flings open against the wall of the bookstore. Her arms are wrapped tightly around herself with a childish prayer to have Teddy Luke in her arms, because at least then there would be a little piece of him to stay with her when the rest of him is gone.

She’s expecting Flynn, or an employee on their smoke break, but not-

“Luke.”

“Julie.”

A whimper leaves her lips at hearing him say her name for the first time in so long. His own eyes are glassy, and even though he’s so much older his eyes are still the same. He’s still her Luke, and that’s such a dangerous idea to touch in this timeline but she can’t let it go.

“I’m so sorry,” she wails, trying to avoid looking at his heartbroken expression for too long. “I know, I said we can’t do this, I just-”

“Julie.”

“Did you want me to find you?”

Air puffs from his mouth in a harsh sigh as he takes a few steps closer to her; incredulously focused on the fact that she’s there, in front of him, real. “I- Of course, of course I did, Julie. I just didn’t think you’d come. But I wanted you to know I was looking.”

Her eyelids fall shut. More tears are pushed out, and she doesn’t know if she’s crying or laughing because of course Luke would look even when she told him not to. He respected her, and he respected her wishes, but he could never help himself from pushing the boundaries.

Achingly, she’s always been so grateful for that trait in him.

But now the two of them are awkwardly standing only a few feet away, and the urge to just feel him, assure that he’s solid in front of her is becoming all too real.

Gravel rolls under the soles of her shoes. “I loved the book,” she confesses. “All of the stories. I mean, I’m sorry about the- About your splits-”

“I shouldn’t have even tried with them-”

“But everything else, just…”

How does she say it?

“When- Back when, in the other timeline, and you guys were ghosts… Those stories were the kind of thing you had always wanted. You were so determined to get it, and-” She sniffles. “I’m so glad you got it.”

His lips turn downward. It’s a flash of the familiarly frustrated Luke who is trying to make a tough decision, but in this case, she doesn’t know what that decision is. All she sees is the wince at her saying it was what he wanted, and how happy she was that he got it, and-

A conceited part of her contemplates if he’s about to correct her, tell her that life hasn’t been great, say that he would have rather had it differently; but he doesn’t want her to think her sacrifice was for nothing.

Oh, God, please say he’s happy. She doesn’t think she could handle anything less.

“It’s thanks to you,” he responds instead, gulping down any more that threatens to come up. “You saved me.” Beat. “Are- Are you happy? Is everything in this timeline okay?”

Well, in her head, not exactly. Of course she still had her dad and brother and Flynn, but Sunset Curve never stayed together, she erased Carrie’s entire existence, and everything felt just a little tilted on its axis. Julie felt like a stranger in a world of her own creation.

She yearned for the days back in Wonderland where everyone belonged. They were a little scarred and a little broken, but they were home. Her house from the original 2020 timeline was her home. Luke was her home, and he was right in front of her; the only security blanket she has right now.

Once again, she finds herself bursting into tears and wanting so badly to reach out to him, to give him a hug and tell him she wishes that she stayed in bed in Wonderland with him forever. She wants to jump back down the black hole and go back to 1995 when things made more sense than they did now and Luke could be hers again; and not a distant love that could never materialize in the present.

Julie, miraculously, holds herself back. But watching Luke’s hands flinch at the sight of her crying doesn’t make things easier.

“Please don’t cry.” His voice is a whisper but the words hit with a force that almost buckles her knees. “Julie, please, take a deep breath.”

She takes in a breath that makes her lungs expand into her ribs. “I’m happy,” she lies through her teeth as she breathes out slowly. “I’m happy. We’re happy.”

“Good.”

Tears are running down his face. She recalls a time where it was easy for her to hold his face and swipe under his eyes with her thumbs until there were no more tears for her to kiss away.

In unison, they clear their throats and shift their eyes. The air changes; they know they’re in a public place again, and Luke is an adult musician, and he’s with a fan. He holds his hand up, the one that has the book, and shakes it a little back and forth.

“Flynn said you wanted this signed?”

A watery smile blooms on her face in spite of the bitter moment. “Yeah,” she nods. “Thought it could be another memento.”

To put emphasis on the idea, she lifts up onto her tiptoes and tilts her voice up. Make it a more positive moment. Don’t dwell. Stop crying.

You can’t change things now.

Luke pops the cap off with his teeth, and toys around with it in his mouth like it’s one of his marked-up guitar picks as he holds the book open and scribbles something (probably illegible) on the inside of the front cover.

Then, once he’s done there, he starts flipping the pages around like he knows where every detail of the story is and marks up certain pages with… Something. She doesn’t know. After he’s made his wanted notes, he writes something out on the last page before firmly shutting it and returning it to her possession.

“Thank you,” she smiles simply as she pulls the book from his hands and carefully assures that their hands don’t overlap. If she touches him, she falls apart.

Luke hums in response.

Stupidly, Julie decides that moment to open up the book and see what he wrote while he’s standing right in front of her. But she isn’t thinking about him, or looking at him -- she’s looking at the inside cover.

We were always meant to find each other. Don’t forget that - please.

Yours,

Luke

When a tear drops on the page, she quickly turns farther into the book because she doesn’t want her feelings to ruin his beautiful, even if messy, words. These words are all she’ll have after today.

The few pages in the book that he made notes on were just little things that she never knew she needed to hear.

The chapter about his first sold out stadium show? Thought of you the whole time

When he heard he was nominated for a Grammy? Wanted to call you first

The night he won his first Grammy? Almost thanked you in my speech

The last page he wrote on was the Acknowledgements page. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t that long. Luke kept a core circle of people and that was that. But below that short list, in bold, black letters:

To Julie Molina, who sacrificed everything so that I could be able to tell these stories. I wish she could have been a part of them.

Her tears slip from her face so clear and quickly that she’s surprised her tear ducts are generating such a mass amount. The words replay in her head, in Luke’s voice, over and over. The affirmation that he wanted her with him all this time.

But she had to go again. This had to be a one-time thing. This hurt too much for her to put either of them through it again, and besides -- now she had closure in his own writing; with her tears notarizing each word.

“It’s time, Julie,” she mutters to herself. “It’s time.”

To say goodbye. Again.

But Luke never answers. It’s dead silent, even though cars should be racing on the road behind them. When she looks up, Luke is frozen to the spot. Everything is, except her.

“Time is a funny thing isn’t it? Just when you think you have a handle on it, it manages to surprise you.”

It’s Willie, but not actually Willie. The one who was giving her the clues and trying to lead her in directions all over 1995; the one who she hasn’t seen in a really, really long time. For a moment, she doesn’t believe it.

But he tells her that fate is in her hands. This is her choice. And despite the doubt that lingers uneasily in her chest, she can’t help but be desperate for this to be real.

“Why not you? Who better than Julie Molina? Teenage girl with a good heart and music in her soul. Braver than most. Why not you?”

Julie jumped across time to save her boys, and now she is willing to make the trip again if it means there’s a chance of saving them all.

But there’s one more thing she wants to do. Just before everything either is perfect again or goes to complete shit.

Spinning away from Willie, she takes a second glance at Luke’s still frame and softens her face into a smile. He had been looking down at her while she was reading his notes with tears in his eyes and a sad grin on his face.

No one is looking or judging anymore -- so she stands on her toes and throws her arms around his neck, squeezing him close even if he can’t hug her back. She’s been dying to do this since she saw him in the bookstore.

And it feels like coming home.

“I’ll find you again,” she whispers into his ear that probably isn’t listening. “I promise.”

And without any more hesitation, she turns back to Willie with her chin up and shoulders back.

“What do I have to do?”

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The book never finds its way back to her the way that the bear does or the way that the ring does.

But that’s okay, because the bookstore does, and she’s with Luke when she registers that they are walking by the bookstore on their way to meet everyone at one of their favorite diners.

By now, Luke had been told everything. She felt herself starting to fall in love with this third Luke just as she had all the others, but could never tell if he was falling back in love with her. Julie found herself -- while this timeline was infinitely better than the old one -- pining for Luke to come back to her and love her like he did in two other lifetimes.

Their hands were brushing each other’s on the sidewalk when the bookstore sign met her eyes.

“Jules?”

Her feet are glued to the cement; her eyes are glued to the alleyway. Luke approaches behind her and lays a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

“Jules, are you- Is everything okay?”

“Can we take a detour, really quick?”

And suddenly, he’s letting her lace her fingers through his and pull him through traffic -- no crosswalk in sight -- across the street to stand in front of a bookstore that has zero meaning to him whatsoever. Julie selfishly revels in his calluses rubbing her knuckles and doesn’t make a move to let go unless he will.

He doesn’t. At least, until they hit the alleyway.

“Julie, what is this place? Why are we out here? Is this… Did I like it here, or something?”

They never spoke much about the Luke’s of other timelines. Julie quickly caught onto the fact that he got uncomfortable when she talked about guys with his name and face that he knew virtually nothing about even though he felt pressured to know everything.

But he dealt with her when she had moments like these. She never thanked him properly for it.

“It wasn’t like that,” she shakes her head, “we were here in the other 2020. The one where you were older, and this huge Grammy-winning solo musician. The one that was a result of what I did in 1995.”

The exit door is still rusty on the hinges. The brick is the same shade of red, and-

“Okay… And? What did you guys do?”

His use of third person is a clear message. “Him and I had made this promise in ‘95 that we wouldn't find each other, right?” “Because he would be old.”

“Yeah. But he published this book and had a whole signing tour called Find Me, and Flynn told me we should go, and… Basically, I had a mental breakdown at seeing him, and then he came back here and signed the book for me, and we talked, and-”

Her voice cracks. Her eyes feel wet.

Fuck.

Can’t she make it one timeline without sobbing in an alleyway?

A familiar hand rubs up and down her back as she stares, firmly, at the spot where her and Luke were so vividly standing and talking and pining for the other.

“Jules, hey, look at me.”

Because it’s Luke -- because it’s her Luke -- she listens to him, and rotates to face him. The soft fabric of his shirt hits her cheeks as he presses his fingers into the cotton and lifts his hand to wipe the tears from her face in a gesture that tempts her to cry more. Instead, she tries to laugh it off. “God, I really need to stop having meltdowns in alleyways, huh?” He stays quiet; looking at her in a recognizable Luke way that reminds her of all of their loving times in other lives. But she can’t get her hopes up. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like when I talk about it. Sometimes I just-”

“You need to,” he nods. “I get it.”

Her feet are planted identically where they were in alternate-2020. But Luke is in a different spot, because this is a new Luke. One that’s right in front of her, lightly holding her arms; not one that’s a few feet out of reach.

“He told me that we would always find each other.” Her voice is watered down, and quiet, but Luke is close enough to hear it.

“Well, he was right, wasn’t he? We did it. For like, the fourth time, according to you.”

And then, she’s hit with a Luke Patterson smile. She sees it all of the time now but it never gets old because he’s young, and he’s happy, and he’s here.

Her lips turn up to reflect it, and in a shocking turn of events: Luke instigates the hug.

They are nearly best friends, so they’ve hugged before. But this one is different.

His arms fold around her shoulders and tug her close and snug into his chest so that his chin is nearly resting on her hair. This leaves her able to press him close to her with her arms wrapped tightly and lovingly around his waist -- almost, dare she say it, like he was a teddy bear.

“I never said I’m sorry,�� he murmurs into her forehead. “Or thank you, for that matter.” “For what?” “I’m sorry you went through so much for me. For us. It still affects you a lot and I’m sorry you have to carry that alone.” His chest rises and falls under her cheek as he takes a deep breath, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of feeling him breathe or hearing his heartbeat. “And thank you for loving us enough to do it. You sacrificed a lot.”

She is too choked up to verbally comment -- but she squeezes him tighter, almost tempting her arms to swish through him.

They don’t.

And Luke continues talking after a moment of a peaceful silence. “It’s kind of cool, though, for me to think about this person I have in the universe. You know? The whole thing with us finding each other. I always have you, no matter where I am. You’ll be out there.”

“Always,” she sighs into his chest, because she can’t help it. It took them a few tries, but here they are: In the same timeline, with full family and friends and lives, in a reciprocated hug.

“Always.” Luke repeats the word, almost feeling it out in his mouth. “Well, thanks for doing it again. Maybe let me do the work next time. You need a break.”

God, this Luke is always so good at making her laugh. Ghost-Luke was, too, but the other Luke’s and her were always swept up in emotionally-taxing situations for her to be laughing like she could when she was with this Luke.

It was almost as if this one had practice. Maybe those other lives were kicking in.

He was her final Luke, hopefully.

As she props her chin up on his chest, she gives him the widest grin she’s worn all day. “I would appreciate that. Just don’t take too long.” Her forehead nuzzles itself into his neck as she settles herself back into his arms; fully content to be wrapped up in him for as long as he will let her stay. “I’ll get worried.”

A soothing hand over her hair is all the confirmation she needs.

“Don’t worry, Boss. I’ll be there.”

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #jukebox #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic #we found wonderland

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mypinkchapter · 5 years

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Recovery & Laughs.

One of the biggest ventures in this journey can now be checked off -- surgery!

Disclaimer: my thoughts for this week on the blog won't have any really great insights, but you might have some laughs with me along the way... embarrassing for me to say because I want Jesus to shine above all & this to fully glorify Him, but I also want to be human with those reading these words & for one day when I look back & share this with Elly, so let me fill in some truths from my last week & let you see how cool Jesus was throughout.

Truth #1: I thought in this time of rest & recovery I would fill my moments in the recliner with lots of reading -- reading my Bible, reading my new Lysa TerKeurst book, reading the novel I checked out from my the library that's been at the top of my "to-read" list... but you know what? I haven't read a single page. It makes me laugh honestly because what I pictured as recovery for myself, basically consisting of lots of leisurely & encouraging reading, has actually been filled with me on medication that has made me so groggy that I've napped, napped, & napped some more. Like drool-worthy, crazy dream naps! Just one more reason the Lord has placed some of the best folks in my path, to share scripture & encouragement with me when I haven't had the ability of sorts to do that for myself. Thank you, sweet Lord, for letting those stand in the gap for me these last several days -- to feed me with truths & encouragement of Your love, mercies, & hope.

Truth #2: I've never had surgery before. Wisdom teeth removal doesn't count to medical professionals, just FYI. So, this girl was an amateur! I remember looking at the sweet anesthesiologist & said, "Are you giving me the good stuff?" & that was all she wrote. Out! I was terrified I would wake up & act like those viral videos you see of folks talking out of their minds, but nope... I woke up feeling refreshed & like I'd had a great nap! Obviously there was soreness, but the surgery itself, should anyone ever have to endure the same kind, it's for sure do-able. Thank you, sweet Lord, for every set of hands that played a part in this. You gifted me with probably two of the kindest surgeons/people I've ever met & their nurses have been nothing short of incredible.

Truth #3: I'll leave this one to be only a short story, which I know won't be short because I don't know how to be short, but it's been comical looking back on... so, when surgery wrapped up & the initial recovery for me upstairs was over, rather than heading to a lovely hospital room to be greeted by my precious husband, parents, & Gran, who would tend to my every tiny need & get me whatever snack, drink, or dinner my heart desired from the greater Jonesboro area, I was wheeled to the basement of the hospital. Y'all, the basement. It makes me crack up all over to remember them telling me they were taking me to the basement; here's why -- the hospital was full. The basement was not a bad area by any means, but it was me & well, like 15 other hospital beds with patients all coming out of surgery. Lined up, side by side, no curtains. Just all of us recovering together, some recovering better than others. So, how you wait on a table at a full restaurant, in your order of arrival, I waited for a hospital room. Now let me say, I was wheeled by the waiting room to see my sweet group of cheerleaders really quickly & them to tell me my preliminary lymph node results were CLEAR (ahhhh! THANK YOU, JESUS!), but that was it -- a 7 second greeting & cheer! Then an over 5 hour wait. No cell phone, no TV, no family. Just me very coherently hanging out with nurses, unable to nap because it was Grand Central Station with folks coming in from surgery constantly, while lying on a very flat ER bed for five hours after undergoing a pretty massive surgery. It was not funny in the moment. Not funny, not funny, not funny! But now, it sort of is... One of our sweet pastors that stayed updated on me throughout the day from Ryan, called him late afternoon while I was still of course in the basement, & he said, "Ahhh, there's no room in the inn." Haha! Thank you, sweet Lord, for the precious ladies that watched over me that afternoon, that stayed hours & hours over their shifts to take care of me & those other patients. Thank you for teaching me patience & humility, even when I wasn't in the most receptive mood. And thank you, Jesus, that I was eventually joined back to my family & had a big, comfy, end room, five hours later.

Truth #4: What should be truth #1, but my husband. Oh my heavens, my husband. I fully believe Ryan Gibson was crafted for me by the Lord himself. He has loved me so good for nine years now, six in marriage, but let me just say: when a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer, so is her husband, her children, her parents, her family, & her friends. My husband in this past month though has been the model man that every woman could ever deserve. I do not deserve him & the love that he has demonstrated; it is purely the love of Jesus in him. Yes, he has cheered me on, encouraged me with truths, shared medical knowledge from his background with me, entertained Elly when I wasn't able to, sat with me while tears fell, & distracted me with lots of laughs, but y'all, until you have been in a similar situation of literally becoming helpless -- my upper body post-surgery has pretty well been useless up until the last day or so -- it has opened up a new realm of love I didn't know existed in marriage. Sure, I've been sick before. I'm pretty positive living through food poisoning with me about did him a few years ago, but cancer & surgery... bless him. I am probably one of the most modest women I've ever known, but that has had to fly out the window with this & that's been really hard for me. Ryan has met that with complete humor & keeping things so light-hearted. So many moments this past week that would bring tears otherwise, tears of pain, tears of embarrassment, tears of unknown, Ryan has met with only the charm he has that is perfectly perfect for me & keeps my tears at bay. Quite simply, thank you, sweet Lord, for your gift of marriage & my precious, selfless helpmate, Ryan.

Truth #5: I have the world's best parents. Elly had a stay-cation with Nana & Pop. She ruled the roost & kept those two busy, busy, busy! They stepped in to love on & 100% take care of our child for the past week. Elly’s world stayed as normal as functionally possible & that was such a relief. We had a FaceTime session every night but she was usually too occupied with Nana & Pop to care much for us. We had to beg for sugars & a “night night” every night! What a blessing that was to be such a seamless process. Thank you, sweet Lord, for demonstrating Your perfect love through my dear parents. Thank you for blessing me with two of the greatest individuals I have ever known, to learn from.

Truth #6: Dr. Dicocco, my surgeon, yesterday at my follow-up appointment asked me, "Do you know everyone in & around Jonesboro?" I laughed & said I didn't think so. She told in the past week she has had countless people tell her thank you for taking such good care of Erin Gibson. Y'all... I've said it so many times & I'll say again, Jesus has purposefully planted every person in & around my path, preparing me for this. I know it, without a shadow of doubt. People to most importantly pray & I would swear that I have some of the most solid prayer warriors that ever were, but people again to encourage us & love on us in very practical ways. We have been fed every single night & even many days at lunchtime. That has meant the world to us & truth be known, there have been days I was living for the yummy food I had coming that night! We have started to receive financial help from fundraisers to make such a huge dent in our medical expenses and that is something we can't thank anyone enough for. We have been so honored in seeing people physically showing their support by wearing pink or Team Erin. We just don't even know how to process it all & it will probably take a long time to do just that, but I will never forget the love shown to us. Thank you, sweet Lord, that you have been so purposeful in my life to create a support system like I could have never dreamed. Thank you, Lord, that so many of those in our lives love You & have demonstrated Your love toward us. I pray that I could love in the same way we have been shown.

I'll end on the the fact that I received the best "grade" & smiley face that I've gotten ever gotten on a report: we learned yesterday that I am officially Stage I! A huge answered prayer! Treatment will continue as planned - 4 tough rounds of chemo for 2 months & 12 lighter rounds of chemo for 3 months - but we are ready for every step to come. I know, because I have asked lots of questions of many knowledgeable folks, that there are some hard & ugly days ahead with chemo, but you know what? There are going to be some great & really fun days ahead too, and I'd bet more of those than the bad or ugly! May Jesus be glorified in every day that is to come for us.

All my love from my pink chapter, Erin

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hopeandharmonizing · 3 years

Text

Gigs

Briar + Faye Valentine ( @alreadyafairy )

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Faye made a face of disgust as she finished the last of her drink, placing it aside. “ is there anything good in here? ” she grumbled, more to herself than anyone else.

“It’s a casino, honey. No. Nothing good can be found here. Just a matter of picking your poison, honestly.”

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Casino.

Not the typical den of sin this she-wolf hangs out in. Her ears ring with the clacks of spinning roulette, rolling of dice, beeping of machines, chiming of spare change, calling of numbers, and whispers making deals. Her nose stings with cigarette smoke and scotch and the stench of people who have been sitting in their seats all day or even longer.

But she won’t complain about a new adventure given a pinch-hit gig. The manager found her name and number to fill the slot of a lounge singer called off sick (or so she hopes, for how the story goes), and she can always use the cash which comes with a contract padded in this kinda luxury.

Jazz.

Not her strong suit. Unlike the matte silver three-piece she’s wearing, which looks pretty damn good, honestly. A sleek look for a slick place; a classy cover for her curves in a crowd of less than savory customers than the usual.

Besides, the job description read clear enough. She’s not to be the center of attention tonight. Performance from a small, velvet stage plants as an accessory, a background, a soothing song streaming in the heads of those spilling out their money, making them feel comfortable enough to keep doing so.

The nature of it raises her hackles, but it ultimately boils down to a more meaningful experience - hope. Hope keeps them at the tables. People who somewhere in the depths of their souls believe they can win, come out to try - they swarm the place. Their lien bleeds out from their wallets and her heart bleeds for their misplaced faith. She can still make the command her own, twist words to shepherd the lost in the best ways she knows how.

Harmonizer sits off to the side, plugged into some sweet ass amps provided by the house. The instrument holds a pre-programmed melody of simple, echoed beat and basic strums. Briar clicks play and dress shoes step to the mic stand. Her voice flows smooth and sweet, tail and body swaying in similar soft waves. Hands twist and worm in gestured emphasis, like a child’s stuck out of a car window and riding the air currents, like a creek bubbling over pebbles after a spring rain…

♫♫ This is my brand new day in the light Trouble rising up on the left and the right I keep my eyes fixed on where I want to go The rest will follow And this is my prayer without ceasing the negative releasing and as I rise above my burden is easing

This is my brand new day starting now Letting go of the ways that I fall down The old can be made new, the lost can be found the lost will be found This is my prayer without ceasing the negative releasing and as I rise above my burden is easing

I bring the pure flow, like water around the rocks of life won’t pull me down I bring the pure flow, drink so deep the river of life, my soul at ease I bring the pure flow, like water around the rocks of life won’t pull me down I bring the pure flow, rising above the storms of life to live and love… ♫♫

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°୭•.═══ singers would come and go in lounges . faye hadn’t always paid attention to that , and she knew none of the others did . as far as a singer was concerned , their voices were meant to add to the ambiance . to let a few men who’d lost a game cry over their drink - and then return to their houses of cards and chips and broken lives . they’d drown in it, watch it all collapse on them and take everything they had away ….

but they’d still return .

faye knew she still would .

one thousand points. not bad . today’s round of pinochle was far better than the last few -

she eyed her lien , counting it in a dedicated , practiced manner . her mind was running through a checklist , things she could do with the amount . three hundred ….

she could go for a game of blackjack . the men there -

seven hundred lien .

or poker . no . the old guy there was hustling the others . sounded like a boring game to her . and definitely not an easy win .

the singer today was different . they always were . but the song was different too . out of place - not what you would expect in a place like this . too raw . too straightforward . and the woman wasn’t sad-faced or thin or red-eyed . she wasn’t just her clothes, and she didn’t have a volatile presence . the opposite of all that, actually .

different .

eleven thousand lien .

faye settled for a drink - ‘almost blue’ , the house special, intrigued her . looked like a smoky drink , with a sizzling campfire dying out in the rain . ninety lien . hah , daylight robbery .

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Seven hundred lien. Rent. Three hundred lien. Food and supplies. One hundred lien. Utilities.

Robbery, indeed. No free drinks for the employees here, so Briar sticks to water while sticking to a tight budget. Unless someone could repay some cosmic kindness…

Tempting, to take an immediate chunk of tonight’s gig and toss some on the table just to see what happens. Slip a coin in a machine. Test her poker face for one round. But, no, Briar’s full speed ahead, whole hearted lust for life doesn’t always know when to stop. Sometimes best not to start at all.

She gets it, though. Really, she does.

What a fascinating place. The people? She’s still working on. A loose lean supports her back on the lip of a bar counter as she gazes out and sips a goblet of water like white wine. Briar’s used to bar crowds looking heavy and tired. Or an audience raring and ready to rebel. These folks lie somewhere in between, if she had to say.

Most wear weary bags beneath bloodshot eyes, in the middle of a never-ending all night bender, yet they come alive every time they go the next round.

If she could bottle that feeling and bless her music with it, some of the world’s problems might be solved overnight.

Damn, does money motivate. But… there must be more to it than that. The atmosphere. The winning. The losing. The cycle of both. The immediate payoff and the promise of more. There’s a song waiting somewhere in here…

Humming, tapping toe of a dress shoe on the tile, she loses herself in the beat of her own thoughts, until someone slides into the seat she stands next to.

She smiles, full of friendliness almost too genuine, and casually asks, “What’s the feel out on the floor today? Hitting it big?”

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°୭•.═══ the presence from the stage drifted to her. her first instinct was to ignore her companion. drink up, go back to gambling , probably amass a few more debts and try not to get outed for the con woman she was. but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do , right ? no one thought about it that way , though . real pity .

she rested her head on her arm, frowning into the drink in a kind of weary , bored manner . ninety lien , and it tasted like complete crap - plus , the bartender didn’t seem to be the friendly sort . beer would have been a way better choice , honestly .

faye tilted her head , eyeing her companion for a moment or two . the singer . up close , she seemed a little more open , unlike the stuck up , sadder ones that usually cried for a solid hour at the counter , mascara running down their cheeks .

this one was worth her time , she decided . but not enough to con . she seemed sharp , smart . not the best victim to pick a gamble with .

she spread out a hand in flippant manner , red nails glinting under the light . “ just the usual . one thousand wasn’t much , but it wasn’t her usual amount either . it was normally much , much lower . not that she would admit it .

“ this place’s got easy wins . ” the truth ! half the men here didn’t seem to know they were being two-timed .” dim wits . ” the whole lot of them . women were smarter , in her opinion .

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Survival is tough. Tastes like grit and blood and shitty food and drink you must suffer through because you already paid for it. Human nature to want better, even if it means taking it with your own cunning hands. Most people here to see what they can scam from the laps of the more deluxe, whether by luck or by patience, or cheating and praying to the gods not to get caught.

Tiring to the bone, no matter how you slice it. But a girl’s definitely gotta do what she’s gotta. Sometimes it meant showing life and its rat race how that girl can put on an even tougher act.

Or, in Briar’s case, a fresh face with golden eyes aglow.

A dance within the gray of dim weather.

No need to con this woman; Briar would offer freely anything she had to give to someone without, if they only ask. But the other woman doesn’t. Drooping disinterest makes her appear too used to cutting her losses.

Yet cockiness in her comment says to the contrary, perhaps not tonight. She carries herself lowly but speaks of others as even lower. What an attitude to have. Fierce in the face of a hall of many failings.

Hips turn towards trash talk, and an easy laugh falls from Briar’s lips, “You sound like an experienced player, my dear. But I’d bet there are many who underestimate you.”

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°୭•.═══ many underestimated her, alright. that was part of the fun, really. gave her more opportunity to hustle a few of her opponents. play the shark. men took women too lightly in general – and she found some kind of twisted triumph in showing them their fallacy.

but that was superficial. like so many, many things about her. a patchwork of clothes from different people she never knew tailored to provide a mask of sorts. she supposed that everyone wore masks – especially in a place like this. but some people here were themselves. like they had broken that mask a long while ago.

like this woman here. that made faye wonder who she’d lasted for this long in a world like this. survival of the fittest. truth had no place here. everybody lied – so why not her?

experienced? well, you could say that. she let herself seem flattered – albeit in a coy, sly manner. tilted her head at the woman, a sea green eye studying her. a confident smile rested on her lips. all an act, through and through – a projection to hide her insecurity.

“ they wouldn’t know what hit them if they take me lightly. ”

her past self had been sleeping for years. then who was she, right now? she just had her first name at hand, her surname a placeholder. hah – she couldn’t even call her name hers.

valentine was a lie – and valentine was who she was. ‘faye’ wasn’t there anymore.

she made a face of disgust as she finished the last of her drink, placing it aside. “ is there anything good in here? ” she grumbled, more to herself than anyone else.

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Briar knows all about patchwork clothes and acts and masks made of others. Masks made for herself too, a performer. And maybe the secret is that after so long, it’s too hard to tell the difference. You can only wear a mask for so long before your skin gets used to the feel, before it starts to shape the contours beneath.

Some people do pull it off, some people do break it. Briar can’t remember the last time she donned or doffed one, not intentionally. She absorbs them, makes them her own, until changing personas came as simple as changing her own expression, no need to pretend, no need to hide, every facet of the soul a part of her.

What the woman sees is not the disowning of a mask, but acceptance that everyone wears different faces for different reasons.

Admittedly, though, hers is not as painted up today. Lashes which blink as Briar meets her side-eye and listens, not as full.

they wouldn’t know what hit them if they take me lightly.

Another sip of water, and then she thinks, hard hitter then. But doesn’t ask if that means the games or the people.

She doesn’t ask her name, either. Not yet. Briar sees many people come and go, finds what someone is called less important than what they have to say. Names only important if a need to ever address a person beyond a single interaction makes itself known. And she has a hunch that this is the type of woman who likes to fade away, disappear just like the dregs of her drink; force a finish, win or lose.

Another sip of water, and then laughter huffs and shoulders bounce at the question, and Briar smirks. Her paycheck only dictates the words offered on stage; after and aside she can say whatever she likes.

Her lean sinks further against the counter, and her head tilts to the side as if she shares some great secret of life, or at least something bigger than the drink menu, “It’s a casino, honey. No. Nothing good can be found here. Just a matter of picking your poison, honestly.”

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°୭•.═══════ she’d been expecting to hear the woman’s name, the moment she’d stepped onto the stage. they usually announced their ‘ special stars for the evening ’ . all the estella’s, the rouge’s, the rosemary’s, diamonds, pearls, gold teeth and violent eyes. the whole shebang. not this one. they’d conveniently forgotten her name – like they’d expected everyone to know it. and maybe they all did. not her. not faye. exchanging names was a DEATH sentence and that came with being a grifter —–— a part of this tiny, pretty package with gift wrappers, ribbons and a cute little card on the top to go with it.

she never went around chit-chatting. not unless she could wrestle something for herself out of it – money, a favor, food, drink. you get the picture. this woman didn’t have anything but herself, her company to give. nothing but her gypsy voice, syllables taking in the sweetness.

there was a lonely child in her heart, and she hid herself under the hills and twisted paths. she’d heard some song, and now her skin was being pried open. the girl wanted out. wanted in. wanted, wanted, wanted, wanted.

tall, woman of mysteries, but all that was rolled up in those fancy clothes of hers was GENUITY.

mm. maybe she’d be interesting to talk to. provided she didn’t end up being one of the people faye didn’t want to cross paths with. people she’d pissed off. the law. people she really shouldn’t be messing around with.

rosewood lips parted, an amused breath curling out. her voice was a bubble in a glass of cheap champagne.

“ it’s a mess, alright. ” her gaze darted up to the bartender, nails rapping the glass with a dismissive flick of her wrist to indicate that she was done. “ that isn’t even poison. i’d like to call it sludge with a drop of alcohol.”

a remark that drew an ugly look from the bartender. poor aim, though. the bullet missed her by a mile. better luck next time, old man.

hands were clasped in front of her, elbows propped up on imitation-mahogany. lips curled into an artificial star-strung smile. fingers flashed nails the same color as her lips. always looked her best. dressed to kill, so to speak. emeralds were trained on her companion, watching, studying, reading. no cards, not an opponent, no game here.

“ none of the people here tonight are good looking, either. ” her gaze darted to the sea of faces around her. “ the only things that’ve ever been good here are the men and women. the ‘company’. ”

fingers danced idly on the wood, sights turned to the woman. her eyes were gold, she observed. gold, like sunlight haunting windows. what a map of obscurity. she could barely get a glimpse of this woman.

“…do you gamble ? ”

#alreadyafairy #( all these years go by so fast || thread archive )

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darspeaksout · 6 years

Text

Questions & Answers on Writing

Tell us about your WIP!

It takes place in the Philippines and follows the story of two friends who are part of the same church, but throughout the story they drift apart. Ten years later, now adults, each is recounting the story to a loved one; one is telling it to his five-year-old daughter while the other to his co-worker.

Where is your favorite place to write?

My room, at night.

What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing?

Favorite - making sense of my own experiences and letting people in on issues they probably don’t think about on a day-to-day basis. I also love creating dialogue.

Least favorite - I find it difficult to describe abstract, philosophical concepts that not everyone can easily relate to, such as how a person feels during worship or the spiritual connection one feels simply by sitting inside a church. (My current story has to do with religion so I run into this problem a lot). It’s not so much of a challenge for me to write these experiences for my characters, but when I begin to edit my draft I know I’ll have to find a way to introduce these things in a way that everyone - whether spiritual or not - can appreciate.

Favorite character you’ve written?

It’s too early to say.

Favorite/most inspirational book?

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Beautiful prose, eloquent style, solid voice, religious theme. Hands down the best book I have read.

Describe your writing process

Everywhere. I’ll start with the opening for the story, then jump all the way to the ending, then I’ll fill in some parts in the middle, and do some touches here, touches there. My process isn’t linear at all, which I think is common for many writers. I also think it’s important to not just stay home all day and lock myself with my laptop; in order to write meaningfully I must also go outside, experience the world, and really feel. Writing isn’t just about putting the right words down on the page, it’s a highly empathetic art - it involves a lot of feeling. That’s why it’s normal for me to be working on my story while simultaneously going on a trip whether nearby in nature, or a city across the world. I also like to read books of authors I admire while working on my project, to study their style and improve my own but also to get away from my own head for a while.

What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?)

What gets me going to write a book is my Idea, and yes - with a capital I. I ask myself, what is my Idea? And why do I want to tell it to the world so badly? This Idea keeps me up at night, is the reason why I’m always so restless, and is what fuels me. For my current story, I’ve had to research places in the Philippines because that’s where my story takes place, and I’ve only lived there for a few years before moving to another country. I have also conducted interviews of girls’ perspectives of being part of religious organizations for my female lead. Traveling also plays a role into how ready I am to tell a story, specifically to describe a location, accurately. I need to make sure I get all the details right, and so for my writing to read as authentic and not forced.

How do you deal with self-doubt when writing?

Prayer plays a huge role. I start every writing session with a prayer, as I do with each morning before I tackle the day ahead. When I pray, I’m able to calm myself and be in the right mental space to write as honestly as possible. It also reminds me that my talent and passion were given by God, and that even though at times I may doubt myself and in how many people my story will reach, ultimately what I am meant to do with my writing is bigger than any self-doubt. When the love is stronger than the fear, the goal will be accomplished.

What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing?

Scenes - heavy with dialogue. Working on my current story, I realize that I feel so at home writing dialogue. Perhaps this is from watching so many Filipino movies, which have the sassiest and most sarcastic characters you could ever come across. That’s why I love crafting villains and power-hungry antagonists.

Topics - religion, masculinity, family, platonic relationships

Character types - the one who struggles with self-acceptance, and worries that others won’t love him if he reveals his true self.

How do you cope with writer’s block?

I don’t care what anyone else has said to you; there is no “trick” or “hack” to get over writer’s block. The cure is simple: just write. I think people experience writer’s block often because they’re scared to take on the project in the first place. They’re scared because they don’t yet fully know their story, because they have confidence in this scene but are worried about another, because they don’t know how the people around them will receive it. To combat writer’s block, you really just have to surrender all your worries and just do it. It’s about channeling the drive to sit yourself down at your desk, open your laptop, and write. Write something, even if it’s garbage. Write something, even if you won’t end up using it in the final draft. In the outlining process of my story, for example, I was debating if I should include this whole supernatural element and mythical legend in my story. I spent pages upon pages developing this possible subplot, only to scrap it because I decided it wouldn’t contribute to my story. I didn’t end up using it, but at least I was productive and wrote something! I still persevered even though I felt stuck. And producing content I decided I wasn’t going to use, only gave me a clearer vision of what I did want to use. What’s also key is that you do not stop. Dedicate some time every day to write, depending on what suits your schedule. Don’t miss a day. Even if you’re just going to write two pages of dialogue but don’t have the narrative, just do it! What’s important is that everyday, you’re making progress.

Any advice for young writers/advice you wish someone would have given you early on?

You might think that your ideas are crazy and that no one could possibly relate to them, but you’d be surprised. We’re all pretty much the same even though we come from different walks of life; everyone is capable of feeling, empathizing, laughing, crying, getting angry, getting hurt, etc.! So if your characters are doing at least one of those in your story, I guarantee you someone will be able to relate. Just tell your story.

What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?

My tenacity and how I never stopped.

Tell us about the books on your “to write” list

Hmm... I don’t think about this often because I’m still drafting my first story. But eventually I would like to write a story about two friends who become rivals, as they are driven apart by competition in a prestigious university.

How do you stay focused on your own work and how do you deal with comparison?

I’m able to concentrate over long periods of time mainly because of prayer. It also helps that I’m very open with my friends and they support me on my writing journey, so talking about my plans only fuels me even more to write every day. As for comparison - I don’t compare myself to others. Whenever I read another writer’s work, whether they’re a National Bestseller or simply just starting like myself, I ask myself, “what do I like about this piece?” “How can I use some of their techniques and twist them so I can make them my own?”

Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works?

Both. Reading books or watching movies - consuming any artistic medium, really - which relate to my specific topic provides some insight into the genre I’m working with, and how much I would like to deviate from the norm. Consuming content that is dissimilar to my story is something I still find to be useful, because it doesn’t matter what kind of writing it is: if it’s good writing, it’s good writing. And it can always teach me something new. For example, I’d say my current story is leaning more towards contemporary young adult, but I just read After Dark by Haruki Murakami, which falls into the genre of magical realism. I went into that book seeking to be entertained and inspired, and I was surprised to see that my story and Murakami’s share similar themes.

Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions?

Sometimes, the book isn’t better than the movie.

Post the last sentence you wrote

“With that, Guang Fu offers me a sympathetic smile and steps into the building. All the way below I can hear a ship’s horn as it leaves the harbor, and the push and pull of the gentle tides.“

Are there any books you feel have shaped you as a writer?

Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

Alias Grace - Margaret Atwood

Crazy Rich Asians (the entire trilogy) - Kevin Kwan

South of the Border, West of the Sun - Haruki Murakami

What is the first line of your WIP?

“It was a sunny afternoon in Manila when I dropped my girlfriend off at her house.“

#writing #amwriting #literature #writers

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ittybittyria · 6 years

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yet another processing post

So sometime during my first year of college someone told me that Christian communities are where you find the friends that become family. Four years later and I think that was one of the biggest pieces of bullshit I bought into.

Don't get me wrong, I've experienced A LOT of growth in the Christian communities I've been a part of and met great people, but I've also experienced an immense amount of judgement, shame, and hurt.

First off, college. LOL I say this all the time and I truly do mean it, college was probably the worst season of my life. On top of family brokenness, struggling with academics, and learning to manage several mental disorders, I had to deal with bullies, racism, sexism, rumors, exceedingly high expectations, never ending judgement companied with unwarned suggestions from several people who knew nothing about me on how to live my life, shaming, and several other things from my Christian fellowship. I think my broken idea of what family is alongside believing that Christian communities are where you find friends that become family made me think that this was okay. It literally took a complete breakdown, losing several friends / mentors, and ending up in the psych ward for me to realize that it was such a toxic environment. But, being in IV did impact me in a lot of positive ways such as personal & spiritual growth, meeting several slightly older folks who became positive role models and influences in my life, new opportunities for me to explore passions, and meeting people outside of UCD that deeply touched my heart. If I could do college over again, I'd still join IV, but I'd just do things differently. I would tell my college self to not lose yourself in the midst of all these leadership trainings / discipleship meetings / staff meet-ups, don't listen to people when they tell you who or what to give your time to because that's up to you, and that God's voice is the most important.

Looking back on college, there's really only one person I met in IV that has become family, and most of our friendship grew outside of IV considering she stopped going LOL There's others that are still friends / acquaintances that I talk to every now and then, see on social media, etc. These positive relationships that really do mean the world to me because they've really help shape me to who I am now. Being led by Victoria, being mentored by Alexi, sharing a friendship with Lily, being encouraged by Robert, etc. are things I treasure. Some of those friendships are still active on social media and it's always a reminder that college wasn't all pain. And then there's a lot of relationships that ended in hurt either through hurtful actions or fading away cause the friendship wasn't worth fostering to them. Those I still treasure for the positive moments and the season they were present in my life. But it's hard to look at those and smile because there's still a lot of hurt I have yet to move past. All in all, my college experience in a Christian community didn't showcase "friends becoming family." Rather it was a mix of meeting great people that challenged me and inspired me, and meeting people that made me lose myself and cause a deep amount of hurt.

As for post-grad, welp. It's been a journey. There's everything with Bayside Davis, which has been negative for the most part. Then there's my small group, which has been a difficult mix of both positive and negative. Positive because I genuinely love my small group. I enjoy our biblical discussions, I feel challenged and encouraged by them, we've shared a lot of laughs, and they're just great people overall. I just feel myself growing with this group and I enjoy the presence of each person. But negative because we aren't really a community LOL All we do is see each other on Thursday's and sometimes at church, and all we ever talk about is from the guided discussion at SG. We've had like four hang outs, three of which I've attended, and they've either been barely anyone or really short or no good chats about getting to know each other. So it's been weird to be in this group and feel growth personally and spiritually, but not in community. It's kinda weird heh.

And today, well, today made cry...a lot. A few days ago I texted my SG being real about how holidays are hard because my family and I go to different churches (it's a lot more than that but I wasn't get too deep into it over text lmao) and I tend to go alone and I was open with them and said that I didn't want to spend Easter morning at church alone and I was hoping to be with community. I asked which service they were going to and if I could join them. Only Elvira responded and she let me know that her and Kevin were serving at the 9am, but that means they don't get to sit during service. No one else responded and I assumed they'd gone back to their hometowns to be with family or just weren't going to Midtown. So I cried last night because I really just didn't want to go church alone. But I woke up this morning feeling good. My window was open, birds were singing, the sun was rising, and I just felt good. I was reminded that I was going to church alone, but I wasn't alone. I went to the 9am service, sat by myself, and loved every second of it. Could it have been better shared with community? Hell yeah, but I was still filled with joy. When I got to my car, someone from SG texted asking where people were sitting and they sent a picture and lookie there, my SG was all together for the second service. I just sat in my car trying not ruin my make-up with tears. I fought them back for a solid 30 minutes.

What got me was that there's a guy in my SG who I've known all through college. He's seen me through a lot and I've opened up to him. He knows the issues with my family and I've talked about how hard holidays are for me. And he couldn't even text me to tell me what service he was going to. I'm like 10x more angry and frustrated with him than the rest of my SG. I literally save him a seat every regular Sunday and his ass walks in late with a donut and coffee every time. Like he couldn't just respond and say 11am. It takes less than a minute to type and send that. And hearing all my family problems and the pain I carry along with it, he just couldn't fucking do it. Y'all I cannot even put into words how unloved I felt today by him.

And even my SG. I was honestly disappointed. I've planned all our hang outs, I've missed TWO small groups (one for a car problem and the other because I wanted to support a friend at her performance). They even said I get the award for best attendance cause I've probably been to the most SG's and YP events. I take time every weekend to pray for their prayer requests and if God brings something up when I pray, I text them. I don't do this to get anything back, like I promise I don't. I genuinely do this because I love my SG, I want the best for them, and I care about them. But I am hurt that no one could just say "11am" when I asked what service. Like...where are the friends that become family?

When I look at the people in my life and I see the friends that have become family, I didn't meet them jn Christian communities. I met them in HS (which was a catholic HS but it doesn't count cause it's totally different lmao) and through those HS friends. They've become family and most of them don't even fucking live in the same city as me. I've seen us travel miles on miles to celebrate birthdays, support each other at performances, be there at graduations, welcome people back at the airport, etc. I've seen us stick up for each other when racism and/or sexual harassment as come up, challenge each other to be better, call each other out on shit we do, etc. I've seen us laugh and cry all in the same hour, be vulnerable and share our stories, listen well and honor the stories we hear, etc. I've seen us go above and beyond to be good friends to each other and these are the friends that have become family.

I don't expect Jessica to fly to celebrate my birthday with me and I don't expect Luis to tell a guy to go away and leave me alone when he's been harassing me and I don't expect Holly to feed me chips outside the club when my drunk ass is hungry. I don't expect these of them and I'd never ask this of them. But a fucking text back when I send you a long message about why I'm thankful were part of my 2017 and how I hope you have a full and joyful 2018 would be nice. Like a thank you. Or you could even just heart the damn message. Or John could just say "I'm going to the 11am service" when I ask our SG which Easter service their going to so I don't go alone. Or even a "thanks for saving a seat" on Sunday's. But nothing. I don't even expect my friends friends to go above and beyond. Like I'm fucking living when they text me saying they also like Enlightened more than they like Halo Top and "OMG did you smell the easter bath bombs at lush? I think you'd like it." Honestly being friends with me really isn't hard. Like my biggest things are initiating every now and then, stick to your word and show up when you say you'll show up, and fucking texting back. Those are the main things and I really don't think they're that complex / difficult. Yet it seems like the only people that can do that in my life are Sabrina, my HS friends, and the friends I met through them. And relating back to what I was originally processing, Sabrina is the only one I met through a Christian community. Goes to show that the whole "Christian communities are where you meet the friends that become family" didn't happen for me heh

It's hard cause I have to remind myself that not everyone wants a friendship with me. But at the same time, don't ask me to plan SG hang outs or show up late to church cause you wanted Starbucks and you know I'll save you a seat or ask me for a ride somewhere when you don't plan on being a friend to me. Don't sit their receiving the benefits of a friendship with me without being a fucking friend to me. Recognize that you're taking advantage of it and either fucking stop or be a friend. Cause it hurts from this side of the situation.

LOL wow this post took a turn. I went from talking about buying into the bullshit that Christian communities hold the best friendships you'll have to just friendship in general to getting really fucking mad at people. I think the turn this took is a sign that I need to spend some time in prayer and with God cause there ain't no room in my heart for this bitterness.

Okay I'm tired now and I want to watch Grey's Anatomy to let my brain just stop thinking for a bit and I also need to go pray cause yeah, bitterness ain't cool n shit

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liveforloveandlovetolive · 5 years

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I’m going to warn you, this is probably going to be a very long, emotional post.

I’m going to talk about something that doesn’t get discussed enough, especially not with personal stories. I’ll spoil the ending for those who can’t bare to waste your time reading a long post, it’s about miscarriages.

On Sunday, February 10th, i decided to take a pregnancy test because i just had that gut feeling. I hadn’t even missed my period yet, i was supposed to get it on Tuesday. But sure enough, my suspicions were correct, the test was positive. I was not worried, or panicked, i was excited. I felt as if whatever is supposed to be, will be and if this is my time to have a baby, then i will be the best mother imaginable. It was honestly like a dream come true! I took another test that night and the line was solid, really quickly. Then i took another test on Tuesday and the line was there within 10 seconds. It seemed like a sure thing. They say not to tell too many people for the first 13 weeks because up till then, there’s a 25% chance of miscarriage. It was too exciting not to share though, so i told a few too many. Sorry to anyone feeling left out, it’s honestly for the better and this is exactly why. I do want to thank those of you who knew and were so supportive, it meant so much to have you on my side.

I thought there was a possibility that my last period was implantation bleeding so i wasn’t sure exactly how far along i was, especially with the quick positive test and the extremely sore boobs i had 10 days before i was supposed to get my period.

I had my first ultrasound February 26 to figure out how far along i was. The baby measured 5 weeks and maybe a few days. It’s really too early to tell at that point so i had to reschedule. This means i found out before even being 2 weeks pregnant.

Second ultrasound was Monday, March 11th (13 days after the first one). We found a heartbeat! That was exciting, but the heart was way too slow and faint, and the baby was just measuring 6 weeks. I was told to prepare for the worst. That things like this don’t end well. Every appointment i have been to, they try to prepare you. They tell you that miscarriages are very common and that it’s not your fault.

I was so careful the entire time i knew i was pregnant.... i wouldn’t even drink iced tea because it has caffeine.

Anyways, my next appointment was to be over 7 days later to see if the baby would grow another week at least and if the heart was any stronger.

Third appointment, Wednesday, March 20. Longest. 9. Days. Of. My. Life.

Throughout those 9 days, i spent every night meditating, every day praying, asking others for prayers, good vibes, whatever it is they could do. I was hopeful but as my relationship had gone to pieces and we split up (my decision), i came to try and accept my fate. That whatever happens, happens for a reason. That there’s always a plan made for me and that i will end up exactly where I’m meant to. I felt calm. I felt ready. But i also was torn apart. I deep down already knew the news i was going to get, but i hoped for a miracle. I hoped for the baby to just randomly have a growth spurt and pounding heart of gold. I felt as though i prepared myself with rationalizations to be ok with bad news. But nothing and i mean nothing on this world prepares you for the news i got. I was told today that there was no heart beat and that the baby had gotten smaller... i didn’t even know that was possible. You learn something every day. I knew the second the transducer showed my uterus, that this baby did not grow.

I keep trying to compare this situation and this feeling to some of the worst feelings I’ve had in my 22 years of life, and nothing compares. This is the worst actually. I still do believe that it happened for a reason. Many reasons, actually.

Now i had two decisions on what to do next. I could either let this pass naturally or have a D & C. A D&C is a procedure where they basically remove the inner lining of your uterus and all the “particles” with it. The thought of it just terrorized me and i first thought about passing it naturally. Although i want the tissue tested to determine the cause. I was told the only sure way we could do that is D&C and that passing naturally would cause labor-like pains and serious psychological trauma. The trauma and the uncertainty of testing the tissue is what stopped me from choosing the natural path. So tomorrow i will undergo a surgery to remove everything. I think that’s what got me so upset. It all just happened so quick and i have to let go of the “what if’s” because it’s a sure thing, this was not meant to be. I’m not going to post this yet, cause I want to discuss my feelings post-op. So i will continue writing tomorrow or the next day, but i feel like my journey is something to be discussed. Something so many women go through and suffer in silence because no one wants to hear heartbreaking news. But maybe if people discussed this more, i wouldn’t have been so caught off guard and afraid of the unknown.

Writing this completely post op. Literally just got back from surgery and i feel totally fine. Slight cramping but that’s all. This was my first time going under anesthesia and it was weird, but an interesting experience. The dr. Said i would feel sleepy and i was thinking, “wait you didn’t even warn me before putting the anesthesia in?!!!” But then my arm felt tingly and i felt like he was doing it right then. I tried to keep my eyes open as long as possible to make sure i was completely out and they didn’t start before i was. I felt my arms and my face like really really tingly. Took a nice nap and before i knew it, it was over and i was in recovery. Honestly, i started crying as soon as i woke up but shortly stopped and felt better. After about two minutes of consciousness, i felt totally fine. Not even tired. Drinking apple juice and eating graham crackers right now since i haven’t eaten in like 20 hours. Just excited to go home now. Surgery is not as scary as i thought it’d be.

So mentally right now i am numb. However, I’m ok. I feel like it’s all for a reason.

The purpose of this post was to share my experience and not at all for pity. I will be ok and my time will come when it’s right. I’m sorry to anyone that has ever gone through this. If you’d like to talk and discuss, I’m here.

I do want to welcome people to share their stories whether it’s privately or in the comments. And ANY questions any of you have, please do not hesitate to ask me. Like i said, i WANT to talk about this. You can ask me privately or publicly.

#liveforloveandlovetolive #personal #miscarriage #pregnancy #things that need to be discussed #death #loss

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

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Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 6/?

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here, Part 3 Here, Part 4 Here, Part 5 Here. Also On FF Here.

A/N: Okay all, so I am back with the next chapter of ‘Some Call It Magic’ and I am very excited for it because it brings the first date. I know it’s been a while, but it’s a bit longer to make up for the gap in updates. It’s also the first chapter that is almost exclusively Emma and Killian alone with each other, and that in itself was such a treat to delve into. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you all think!

Fretting over what to wear had never been Emma Swan’s style. Since she was a kid she’d never felt that inclination to linger on her fashion choices, not just because she didn’t have much in the ways of a wardrobe when she was in the system, but because it didn’t seem very practical to her. At the end of the day, did it really matter if she chose a black dress over a red one or wedges over heels? She never thought so, and yet here she was, staring at her closet and desperately seeking some kind of inspiration for the night ahead.

“Come on, there’s gotta be something,” Emma muttered aloud, looking through the same slim pickings she’d had for so long and wishing that she’d had the foresight to go out and shop for something new and different.

It just didn’t feel right to wear something ordinary this evening even if she had no idea where Killian and her were going. From what Emma knew about Killian, she trusted that whatever he had planned would be intimate and romantic. He just seemed like the kind of guy who managed to pull off amazing first dates, and that was part of the reason Emma was stressing out so badly now, because her track record with dating was anything but pristine. In fact, she might just have one of the worst (and most limited) relationship histories of anyone she knew, and that was really saying something.

But just as defeat was about to wash over her and Emma was seconds away from throwing on any old thing, she noticed a garment in the back of her closet that eluded her before. It was a dress she didn’t recognize in a soft pink shade that was highly unusual for Emma’s typical wares. Honestly it was hard to imagine that she’d ever bought the dress, and she wracked her brain trying to think of a moment when she’d ever seen something so soft and elegant and thought she should buy it or had been gifted a dress by anyone she knew. The garment very clearly did not belong, but for whatever reason Emma’s instincts were telling her that this was the answer to those silent prayers she’d been sending up for the past hour.

With a speed she hadn’t utilized since coming upstairs to get ready for this evening, Emma put on the dress and found that not only did it fit perfectly, but it felt beautiful on her as well. There was comfort here even in its higher quality and Emma appreciated that. The last thing she wanted was something stiff and formal, and even though she took in her appearance after doing up her hair and makeup and almost felt like another person was staring back at her, Emma’s hope that she might just have found the perfect fit grew and filled her heart with a gorgeous sense of anticipation that had been lacking thanks to all of her ensemble worries.

Emma tried to think back on all of her past experiences when it came to dating, and she honestly couldn’t recall a moment when she’d ever felt like this, with butterflies beginning to get the best of her and filling her with this restless energy that had no clear outlet. She knew she certainly had never felt these kind of nerves or this excitement for a date before, and even when she’d been seeing Henry’s father (which was her one semi-solid and totally committed relationship), she had felt more excitement at not being alone than excitement about the man himself.

But things with Killian were different clearly. The past few weeks had shown that time and time again, and Emma had slowly come around to the fact that she couldn’t group him in with all the other men she’d known before him. It wasn’t fair to either of them for her to hold him to those past standards, and it was also very freeing to do away with those old conceptions. With Killian everything felt so new and possible, and for once in her romantic life Emma wanted to give into that and to trust that there wasn’t some other shoe that was going to drop or red flags she was missing. She only hoped that this date would prove that little bit of faith well worth it and help more appear so this wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.

Carrying this sense of resolution and all of that flurry of emotion that came with first date jitters with her, Emma moved down the stairs from her room to where Henry and Elsa were waiting, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn’t make this a huge deal of this. The last thing Emma wanted was too much attention because it would just compound her nerves about all of this, but at the same time who was she kidding? There would obviously be some response, and the best thing to do was toughen up and ready herself for whatever was about to come her way.

“Oh Emma, you look wonderful!” Elsa announced happily when Emma entered the living room, and though Emma knew her friend was holding back to the best of her ability, there was a clear level of glee on display in her expression.

If Elsa thought for even a second that she was hiding her delight at Emma’s date tonight, she was dead wrong, but Emma had to appreciate the effort on her friend’s part. In fact, Elsa was doing much better than Emma had anticipated since there was no jumping up and down, avid applause, or happy tears being demonstrated in this moment. As far as Emma was concerned, this could be considered a substantial victory on the part of her friend.

“You think so?” Emma asked, taking a look back down at the outfit she’d finally chosen and twirling slightly as she did. It was a moment of insecurity for her, but Elsa was fast to put those worries to rest.

“Definitely! Killian’s going to lose it when he sees you,” Elsa promised and Emma smiled at the thought, kind of enjoying the idea that Killian would be as worked up about all of this as she was feeling right now.

“Say cheese, Mom!” Henry said suddenly from where he popped up behind the couch, surprising Emma with the action, but before she could reply her son was clicking the button on the polaroid camera he’d gotten for his last birthday and taking her picture.

“I didn’t realize a simple date merited a photo shoot,” Emma said and Henry’s grin grew wider as he pulled the photo out to wave it around and make it develop faster.

“Who said it’s going to be simple? I bet Killian’s got lots of good stuff lined up.”

Emma looked her son up and down trying to size him up, but Henry had developed just as good of a poker face as she had. He was so hard to read when he wanted to be and Emma couldn’t tell if this was just his positive outlook on life or if he’d gleamed some information about her outing tonight from Killian already. Either way Emma didn’t really mind and she wanted to enjoy the easy back and forth with her son a little longer since it was a good distraction from all of her thoughts at the moment.

“But a photo for a first date? That seems kind of excessive…” Emma taunted and Henry shrugged.

“Who knows maybe it’ll be your last first date.”

Henry’s claim prompted Emma to face a slight moment of dueling emotion. On the one hand she really liked the sound of this date being that important, and on the other she was worried that Henry was building up his hopes to high. There was nothing set in stone about this relationship despite Emma’s ever growing feelings for their new neighbor, and this was just a reminder that she wasn’t the only one who could potentially get hurt. Henry’s feelings were at risk here too, and Emma’s first instinct would always be to protect her little boy.

“Besides you look pretty, Mom, and I thought you might want to remember that.”

It was hard to deny the heartwarming element of that compliment from her son, and Emma did not miss the tiny ‘aww’ that emanated from Elsa across the room, but there was more to all of this than simply commemorating the moment, and Emma noticed a slip in Henry’s façade that gave him away. Then she did the math about what else could possibly motivate her son to take a picture of her in this state, and she came up with a highly probable likelihood: someone had put him up to this.

“How much are you getting?” Emma asked and Henry had the good sense to look a little embarrassed at being caught in his slight bit of deception, but Emma took comfort in the fact that he immediately came clean to her, not even trying to hide the truth in any way.

“Ruby said she’d pay me twenty bucks if I got a picture before you left.”

Now that Emma could totally believe, and though Emma had denied her best friend’s offer to watch Henry tonight, opting instead to ask Elsa since she was the most laid back of the friends (which wasn’t saying very much), Emma knew that the second she left there would be a mass migration of her friends to this house. For whatever reason they all just couldn’t help themselves, and Emma wouldn’t be surprise if they were still here when she got home too, waiting up to see the end of a date that they were almost more excited for than she was.

“My son the paparazzi. How quickly your allegiance shifts,” Emma joked as she ran a hand through Henry’s hair and looked down at the picture he had taken. It actually wasn’t a bad shot all things considered, but Emma did have that moment that she’d had before when looking in the mirror in her room where she wondered if that woman could really be her. This person staring back at her seemed so hopeful and not jaded. It was a strange thing to come to terms with.

“Don’t worry, I already told Ruby I wouldn’t take any of you and Killian together. She offered big money for that shot, but I told her we should play it cool.”

Emma laughed at Henry’s very astute observations, and she sent thanks up to the universe that even her ten year old understood there were in fact some lines of normalcy in the world. It was just funny to Emma that a grown woman like Ruby was less interested in rules of decorum than a little boy was.

“Well thanks, kid. I appreciate that,” Emma said and Henry’s smile grew all the wider.

“Besides, if we give it a couple of dates it won’t be so weird. Then I can take all the pictures I want.”

And there it was again, the flare up of awareness that Emma always seemed to find when there were expectations placed on this budding relationship with Killian. Suddenly those butterflies from earlier began to sour some and the hope that was building all day in anticipation was undercut with the old naggings of her cynical mind that she had to be smart and listen to her head over her heart. Yet thankfully before Emma could wade too far back into the mire of those thoughts, the doorbell rang, alerting them all of someone’s presence at the house.

Oh shit he’s here! Emma thought to herself as she froze in the doorway. She was too hyped up to even think of moving at this point, but soon enough an external nudge came to push her into action.

“Go on Mom. It’ll be great, you’ll see.”

With Henry’s words to urge her on, Emma found herself smiling and pulling the door open to reveal Killian who somehow looked even better dressed up than he had in all the casual ways Emma had seen him up to now. Emma hadn’t thought that was even possible, but here she was gaping at him and failing rather miserably to keep her appreciative thoughts private. That sorry fact was clear enough when Killian threw a knowing smirk her way, but in the end Emma didn’t care about her momentary pause. She was so distracted by the man before her, that she simply didn’t give a damn.

“You look stunning, Swan.”

Damn it had his voice even gotten sexier in the past twenty-four hours? Emma felt like it must have because as it washed over her she felt a shiver of desire running through her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled back before waving her hand and trying to extend a similar compliment. “And you look…”

“I know,” he said teasing her and Emma had to love that slight sense of cockiness, not only because it was playful, but because Killian had purposefully used it to make her feel more comfortable. Emma wasn’t sure how she could be so certain of that, but she felt it to be true, and she appreciated it just as much as she did the bouquet of flowers he handed her in an utterly romantic gesture that Emma was far from used to.

“Oh, um, this is really nice but you didn’t need to get me anything,” Emma said, knowing she was lacking the cool she usually prided herself on and fighting hard not to go red in the process. It was just that no one had ever given her flowers before, aside from maybe Henry when he they made their trips to the meadows in the spring time or when they were gardening out back. This was different from Emma’s past experiences, and though it was one of those cheesy first date expectations, Emma found that she loved receiving them all the same.

“Need had nothing to do with it, love. I just wanted to get something worthy of you, but I should have known nothing ever could be.”

His words floated through the air holding a pitch and tone of total honesty that had Emma smiling again and finally giving into that kiss of crimson against her cheeks. Killian was really good at this whole flattery thing, and Emma was half a second from telling him he didn’t need to even try. She was already interested in him more than she ever had been in another man, and the more thoughtful things he did, the worse her infatuation was bound to become.

“Hi Killian!” Henry’s voice said from further inside the house, and the interruption had Killian’s eyes leaving Emma’s as he turned to greet her son with a genuine smile. Emma watched his honestly happy reaction to seeing Henry and her heart skipped again before she turned to look at her son too.

“Good evening, lad. Hope you don’t mind me stealing your Mum away for a few hours.”

“Are you kidding? This is great! Elsa and I are getting pizza and watching Indiana Jones.”

“Is that right?” Killian asked before nodding over to Elsa in greeting and offering his thanks for her watching Henry tonight. “Which one have you selected, might I ask?”

“Raiders of the Lost Ark, duh,” Henry said and everyone ended up laughing at his clear disdain for the thought that he’d watch any other in the series.

“Henry and I are also going into town to get a little ice cream after pizza,” Elsa filled in. “So we’re really living it up tonight.”

Emma could acknowledge that was true, and it made her feel better about going out at all. She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Henry would be well cared for and thoroughly entertained tonight and that lessened many of her reservations in and of itself.

“And I get to stay up an extra hour,” Henry added easily.

That last claim was a transparent ploy to get a postponed bedtime and Emma had to try hard not to openly laugh again at her son’s antics, especially when his eyes looked to her with a pleading earnestness she was used to from her kid. It was hard to say no to that face, especially when he gave her such a relatively easy time of being a parent, but lines had to be drawn, even if Emma was willing to negotiate a little bit.

“Half an hour, and only if you promise not to give Elsa a hard time when bed time does roll around,” Emma replied and Henry beamed up at her like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

“Deal! So… where are you guys going?” Henry asked and Emma looked back to Killian, intrigued to find that out herself but Killian only smirked and shook his head.

“Nice try mate, but I’m afraid that remains a secret, at least for now. I do promise to have your mother home at a reasonable hour though.”

Emma couldn’t tell if she was happy for that because of Henry’s clear sense of comfort from the comment, or a little disappointed. Of course it was a first date, and as such nothing could – or rather should – really happen, but Emma also didn’t like the idea of this night ending even though it hadn’t even gotten its chance to really begin yet.

“Drats,” Henry mumbled and this time it was Killian who laughed while Emma stood there slightly mortified until he filled in. “Sorry, but Ruby told me I’d get an extra ten bucks if I knew where you guys were going.”

“I expected as much,” Killian replied easily, which of course set Emma to worrying that her friends had been giving Killian a hard time this week, but before she could spiral into that kind of mentality, Killian surprised her by reaching out for her hand and intertwining their fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world to do despite their audience. “But not to worry lad, I’ll be sure to make it up to you somehow.”

That promise of course set everything to right with Henry, and the next thing she knew, Emma found herself leaving the house with one final farewell to Henry and Elsa before Killian led her to his car, opening her door like a proper gentleman would. It was incredibly foreign to Emma all of this politeness and good manners, but the rest of this felt familiar, especially the fact that she and Killian always seemed to have this kind of comfort together where words came easily and silences were never awkward.

“So Henry seemed okay with this from all appearances,” Killian said at one point, motioning to the two of them with his right hand as he did and Emma smiled.

“’Okay’ is putting it mildly,” Emma said before deciding to divulge that whole photo incident to Killian who only smiled and laughed at her son’s ambush.

“He’s a smart lad. I’ll have to thank him for that later.”

“Oh?” Emma asked in a teasing way. “And why’s that?”

“Because even if he was a little mercenary in his motivations, he had the foresight to capture an image of you tonight and that’s something to be valued.”

“Sounds like you’re telling me you like the way I look,” Emma flirted, hoping she was doing it right. After so many years of not caring about interacting like this with anyone it was hard to be totally sure.

“I’m saying you’re nothing less than beautiful, Swan, and anyone who would deny that is either blind, a fool, or both.”

Well that was quite a statement, and though Emma had been overwhelmed by Killian saying she looked stunning earlier she hadn’t really had the chance to respond in any way. Now, however, she did, and she chose to couple her words with action too, taking Killian’s free hand in hers again and linking them once more as he had when they were back at the house.

“So this is a destination date then?” Emma asked as they passed the sign saying they were about to leave Storybrooke, and Killian shot a glance her way that lit something up inside her that was happy and warm and bright.

“Aye, love. We haven’t far to go, but I thought it might be best to try something away from too many nosey neighbors.”

Thank God, Emma thought to herself at his words and then she ended up smiling thinking about how much relief that little bit of distance would bring her.

It wasn’t that she wanted to be far from home, per se, but Emma did appreciate that they’d be out of the Storybrooke bubble in which all happenings were fair game for the gossip mill the next morning. Since Emma and Killian had been on the minds of people for weeks, she could only imagine how much more fodder the town would have if their first date was some kind of public spectacle.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a genius?” Emma asked and Killian laughed at that, his thumb running over her knuckles lightly as he did and sending a zing of awareness through her.

“I wouldn’t go that far, Swan. I’d just say that as a man who has waited so long for this chance, I couldn’t bear the thought of interruption.”

Killian’s words made it seem like he had been waiting for the opportunity at a date with Emma longer than the few weeks that he’d lived here, and though it was kind of crazy, Emma could relate to that. Maybe it had to do with that sense of recognition that she always felt with him, but when she let her hope win out, her instincts were constantly telling Emma that Killian just might be him, the person she’d been waiting for to make the world she already loved so much truly complete.

When the car crawled to a stop just a few moments later, Emma was still fixated on Killian and trying to make heads or tales about whether a man like him could actually be real, but when she looked through the windshield and saw their destination all of her excited adrenaline returned. For there they were in front of a place she actually knew very well and already had a fair many fond memories of.

“You know about this place?” Emma asked as Killian stepped around the car to get her door and he chuckled, scratching just behind his ear in a slightly bashful way.

“I do now. I take it you’ve been here before,” Killian replied and Emma nodded, her gaze returning back to the structure before them.

Locksley Observatory was a relatively well known spot to visit in the area thanks to its being open to the public most weekends and its unique proximity to the sea, but perhaps the most enthralling part of the whole locale wasn’t the observatory itself, but the manor house, aka the ‘Castle By the Sea’ that also lay on the same property. The manor belonged to a very wealthy family who spent most of their time in bigger cities far from here, but this was their summer home, and every once in a while when Emma had been here with Henry there were notices that the family was at home so visiting hours might be slightly different. Emma had never been inside of there though, and when she realized that Killian wasn’t heading around back to the observatory but to the house itself she was shocked.

“Wait, we’re going in the castle?” Emma asked stunned and Killian nodded. “How did you possibly pull that off?”

“It’s amazing what a reporter can do when he calls in a half a dozen favors,” Killian joked and Emma just shook her head not fully understanding, but then when they reached the front walk way of the house Killian stopped, raising her hand up to his lips to kiss gently. The action was so intimate and set Emma’s heart fluttering in her chest, but that was only compounded by Killian’s continued words. “I was thinking we might explore the place together, Emma. Or if not we could always -,”

“This is good!” Emma responded almost too eagerly and when Killian’s wry grin appeared again Emma tried to regain some composure. “I mean you’ve gone to all the trouble…”

“There was nothing even close to trouble in planning any of this Emma, not when it was done in the service of an evening with you.”

What was a girl to say to something that sweet? The truth was that Emma didn’t know, so she followed her instincts, taking a step towards him and closing the space between them to press a gentle kiss upon his lips.

The kiss was reserved and restrained in a way, a bare brushing to be honest, but it still held all the magic Emma had been dreaming of since meeting Killian, and the best part was that when she stepped away Killian looked just as lost in all of this as she felt. Because in that moment Emma knew they were truly in this together, and she was filled with an unwavering faith that tonight was going to be everything she’d been hoping for and more.

………………..

If Killian had walked into this evening with a series of hopes for what a first date with Emma Swan might bring, they had all been exceeded the moment that the two of them arrived here at this estate for their night out together. Even all this time later, after the two of them had explored a bit of this vast and unusual manor house (that was apparently the stuff of legend in this area), and then sat down to a flawlessly crafted dinner made by a chef far more talented than he, Killian was still reeling from just how glorious this all had been.

It started in the moment when he first arrived at Emma’s doorstep, taking her in in all her splendor and finding her even more entrancing than she had been in all their previous interludes together. But then that kiss at the doorway to the castle, that tiny taste of what their connection might bring if given the chance, had upended everything in the most delicious of ways. It was impossible for Killian not to be on cloud nine in the sight of such a flawless moment, and he truly felt all through this first segment of their night together like he’d accomplished something amazing in having secured Emma’s good opinion.

For Killian though, he was just happy that all of this had worked out in his favor. In retrospect navigating through an old house might not have been the most romantic idea for a first date, but Killian’s fears about his potential missteps were quickly done away with when he saw Emma’s genuine curiosity flourish and grow. She saw this all the way he’d envisioned while planning, as an adventure for the two of them to go on together before settling down into the more expected candlelit dinner a proper date should have. In fact, Emma had been almost childlike in her wonder and excitement in the face of the secret passageways and the giant library this place had to offer.

In truth the whole evening so far had imparted upon Killian a chance to see Emma in a totally unguarded situation for the first time, and to say that she was lovely in such an honest and carefree state of mind was simple fact. There truly was not another creature in Killian’s whole acquaintance who could even begin to compare to Emma Swan, and though he’d been sure that he wanted more with Emma even before this date began, the seamless nature of their night together and their easy connection all evening long was the proof he needed to know that he was all in with this woman and with the future they might be able to find together.

“So you never did end up telling me how you stumbled upon this place,” Emma observed when they’d both finished their dessert and were moving hand in hand to the observatory across the estate.

Killian took the opportunity to look back at Emma when she said the words, loving the sight of her wearing his jacket though the night around them was amazingly mild for a September’s eve. She was a vision in that delicate dress of hers, but seeing her wrapped up in something of his fed that need inside of Killian to lay claim to Emma somehow. It was a primitive want, but he couldn’t seem to shake it, and though he’d never had that need to see another woman marked as his before, he wanted that chance with Emma now just like he wanted the chance to be seen as hers by anyone and everyone.

“There was limited stumbling involved, love. It simply took a little digging into what kind of treasures this part of the world had to offer.”

Killian went on to explain the train of people he’d been in contact with to get all of this together, but the main person in his arsenal of aid and assistance was his good friend Will Scarlet, a man he’d met back in New York who ran in the same circles of the Locksley family. Killian then laid out to Emma his and Will’s rather interesting history and the unique kind of bond that had sprouted between them despite the vastly different circumstances of their lives. Will was from money, essentially born to inherit an empire without really doing much of anything (though he kept himself busy with a literacy foundation he’d started in his family’s name years back), and Killian was a go-getter who’d had to earn everything he ever got.

“He sounds like quite the character,” Emma said with a laugh as Killian recounted the interesting ways that Will was a walking contradiction and a few more of their more interesting stories that had transpired over the years of their friendship.

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Killian replied with an easy smile. “But I gather you’ll eventually get to see for yourself.”

“Really?” Emma asked with a sense of surprise.

“Aye, love. I was told in no uncertain terms to expect a visit sometime soon so that Scarlet can see the woman all of this could be for.”

Even in the fading light of the day around them Killian could see that subtle flush that came to Emma’s complexion. It always fascinated him that she reacted this way to his compliments, because he assumed that she must be so used to receiving them, but somehow he knew that she wasn’t. Emma was a woman who didn’t give herself or the details of her thoughts and her life away easily, but for some reason she’d chosen to let him in a little bit, and just that small opening was enough to keep Killian trying for everything she was willing to give.

“Well I hope I don’t disappoint,” Emma said with a shaky laugh and Killian squeezed her hand a little tighter, drawing her eyes back up to his.

“You could never, Emma. It simply isn’t possible.”

A beat past between Emma and Killian and the air between them grew thick with all the building chemistry that had been building up since their first meeting. In this instant Killian felt compelled to lay the whole truth out there for her now. Emma should know the depth of his regard for her and about how he was already well past the feelings of a mere first date in his heart. He wanted every card out there on the table, and yet the words wouldn’t come. Instead all Killian could do was marvel at this woman and his good fortune to even be here with her at all.

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” Emma asked then, clearly trying to rise above the more intimate moment with a jest and Killian laughed, allowing her to deflect a little if it made her more comfortable, all the while knowing that the current of need between them still remained.

“Is that a bad thing, Swan?” he asked and Emma pretended to consider before smiling again.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she joked, but Killian knew that she had decided and that her being here with him still was the testament to that. Emma wouldn’t draw this night out if she wasn’t interested him. She didn’t play games and Killian knew she hadn’t proposed the idea of this date lightly, so her being here meant that she’d seen something worthy in him, overly charming tendencies and all.

By now they’d reached the edge of the path from the house and there were two directions that the two of them could move towards. One was the beach, and the other the observatory. Since there was still enough light around them from the sinking sun, Killian wondered at the merits of going on the beach, but he decided to keep his same course that he’d laid forth all night. He would leave the power up to Emma and wherever she went he would eagerly follow.

“Where to next, love?”

Emma hesitated at the crossroads for a moment, clearly grappling with the choices before her before she silently bent lower to take off her shoes, signaling a walk on the sands was about to happen. That was all Killian needed as indication to do the same thing and the next thing he knew they were out there on the beach, feeling that subtle coastal breeze as the last of the day’s light began to fade.

“Henry and I have a tradition,” Emma said as they moved on the sands taking in the view. “Every time we come here we have to find a shell to bring back home.”

“Any particular kind we’re looking for?” Killian asked and Emma shook her head.

“Nope. Any shell works, but it has to be whole. That’s the only rule.”

“I take it you’ve been here a number of times then, love. How vast is this collection you two have amassed might I ask?” Killian inquired as he split his time between looking for a suitable shell for Henry and gazing upon Emma whose hair fluttered in the wind, sending her sweet scent of blossoms and vanilla his way.

“Oh we’ve got dozens of shells at the house,” Emma admitted. “We come here a lot. It’s always been a special place for Henry and I. That’s part of why I was so surprised when we got here. I thought for sure that someone must have told you about it.”

“Alas they did not,” Killian confessed. “But if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is it that makes this place so important? I mean aside from the clearly superior coastline and the easy access to a world class telescope.”

Emma laughed at his summary of what the observatory offered before bending down to pick up a purple shell that while almost pristine had the tiniest chip on the upper rim. She tossed it back to the sand gently, keeping up the search before answering Killian’s question.

“This was one of the first places Henry and I ever came to when we moved here. It was a week after we got to Storybrooke, and let’s just say I was overwhelmed by the town and the neighbors and the general aura of happy, open, well-adjusted people.”

Killian could readily understand that. It had taken him aback when he first arrived in town, and as someone who’d never experienced anything like the feel of a tightly-knit small town community before, he could only imagine what it had been like for Emma to try and assimilate. Couple that with the fact that she would have felt a determination to protect her son above all else and it was the makings of a real migraine to say the least.

“I was still doubting whether it was right to come here at all. I didn’t really know what to do. I wanted to believe that Storybrooke could be the kind of place Henry and I needed after relocating from the life we’d had before, but I needed proof that if we did this then everything would really be as good as people said it would be.”

“You’re one of those seeing is believing people I take it,” Killian said.

“How could you tell?” Emma said with a bit of sarcasm that wasn’t biting but playful.

“Because I can recognize the signs. In my line of work you have to see the evidence before you jump to the conclusion. You can’t just craft the story to suit your tastes. You need every piece of the puzzle to be certain of anything.”

“Exactly,” Emma said clearly glad that he understood her. “And I wanted that back then so I was struggling.”

“What ended up changing your mind?” Killian asked.

“Henry of course,” Emma admitted, smiling at the thought of her son as she did. “We came here and he was so happy. Between the beach and the telescopes it was like Christmas for him, and I couldn’t understand it because what started as a sunny day turned into a total wash. There were clouds everywhere and you couldn’t even see the stars so what was the point? But he just looked at me and said that clouds don’t stay in the sky forever, and the stars would be back, we just had to be patient. I know he was just talking about the weather, but I figured if my four year old could have faith, then I could try too.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’ve a brilliant boy on your hands with that one, love. I’ve never met a lad like him before. He doesn’t forget a thing and he’s always got another ten questions up his sleeve. It’s a real joy to see and to spend time with him… and with his mother.”

Killian didn’t know what he expected when he gave his honest assessment of Henry’s abilities to Emma. Perhaps he’d thought she’d smile or laugh or offer another funny tidbit about the voracity of her kid, but instead she looked almost stricken, as if Killian had inflicted some sort of wound on her when that was so far from his intention.

“Look, Killian, tonight’s been… well it’s been wonderful, way better than any first date has a right to be, but I have to be honest with you: this thing between us, it would never just be between us. You understand that, right?” Emma asked and though Killian was still a little lost from her sudden change of tone he nodded, giving Emma leave to keep speaking. “I have more than myself to think about here. I have to think of Henry and what getting into something serious would mean for him.”

A trickling of understanding began to seep through Killian’s consciousness and it sent a cold chill through his body. Emma was trying to push him back after this evening that they’d shared together and it was a terrible thing to consider. Tonight had been a hint at only the beginning of what he was starting to want with Emma, and if this was all they were every going to have because she couldn’t trust him… well it might just break Killian’s heart.

“What are you saying, Swan?” Killian asked, hating that he needed to hear her say it when her words would have the power to wreck him completely. Emma in response closed her eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling it and looking back at him.

“I’m saying that this scares me – you scare me. I don’t do this, Killian. I don’t get close to people like this because I know what it’s liked to be burned and to have nothing but scars and heartache to show for it. I know what it’s like to let someone in only for everything to go wrong and for people to get hurt, and as a mother I never want to put Henry through that. I don’t ever want him to know what that’s like.”

“I would never do anything to hurt you or Henry, Emma, you must know that,” Killian said reaching back for her and taking some comfort in the fact that Emma didn’t resist his advances. Instead her hand came up to rest against his chest, and her body leaned a tad closer to him, telling Killian that even if her mind was resisting, her body was succumbing to that same truth and need that he’d given way to almost from the first moment they met.

“I do,” Emma whispered, causing Killian’s heart to beat painfully in his chest. He felt hope stirring once more, but this was still too volatile a situation to make heads or tails of. “But…”

“But nothing,” Killian said, hating to interrupt her but needing her to see that he meant this and he wasn’t willing to give up their chance without a fight. “No one can tell the future Emma, and I can’t promise you exactly what will come, but I can swear to you that I’m not the kind of man who toys with people I care about, and I care about you and about Henry more than I can say. So whatever you think will change things, whether it’s just fate’s design, or circumstance, or something else that you’re not telling me, I’m letting you know right now that I am in this. No matter what comes I’ll be here.”

That was already quite the profession, and Killian could tell that it was a lot for Emma to take in. Her green eyes had widened considerably, and he could see the swirling of emotion within them giving away how overwhelmed she was, but the fear from before was quickly fading, and Killian believed that now was the time to lay it all out there. How else, after all, was this woman to trust him with whatever it was she was keeping tucked away from him if he wasn’t willing to trust her in return?

“I know you have doubts love, but I know who you are. I know you Emma, and nothing is going to dissuade me from the fact that this, scary and unknown as it might be, is worth giving a shot,” Killian said as his hand came to cup her cheek. “We can take this as slowly as you command. I’m not trying to push you into something you’re not ready for or that you don’t want, but I think the thing that scares you most is that you do want this, love, just as badly as I do. You just have to trust yourself and learn to trust me too.”

“I do trust you,” Emma said quietly, and though the truth of her statement shone through in her tone, she seemed almost as surprised at her reply as Killian was. “Or at least I’m trying. I want to trust you.”

“Then that’s all we need, love. The rest of it will come, but that’s the most important thing.”

Emma nodded at that and once again her smile returned, bringing Killian a sweet sense of relief that only Emma ever seemed able to give him and the next thing he knew they’d separated the lingering space between them and were yielding to a kiss that had been weeks in the making. Unlike the one that Emma had bestowed upon him at the start of the evening, this one was hardly reserved and gave way to all the passion and pleasure and chemistry Killian had been anticipating would live within Emma from the start. The sparks that the kiss ignited inside him set his whole body alight and he swore that feelings this strong couldn’t possibly exist, yet here they were.

Time passed strangely in that moment, and by the time the two of them broke apart Killian hardly knew which way was up. All he knew was that he would never have enough of Emma, and that he wanted to spend the foreseeable future claiming moments like this one as often as he could. From the smile on her face, Killian was also able to hope that was what Emma wanted too and he felt empowered to speak candidly to her about his thoughts on that kiss. The only problem was that there were no words to describe the euphoria he’d just found.

“That was…” Bloody hell, why couldn’t he think of anything to say? A dozen words went through his mind, all of them good but none of them perfect, but it didn’t matter in the end because Emma only smiled as if she could read his thoughts and agreed whole heartedly.

“Yeah, it sure was,” Emma responded before casting her gaze off for a beat and then seeing something that drew her attention. “Hold that thought.”

Killian watched then as Emma moved over a few feet and bent to grab something from the course ground beneath them and when she returned she had in her grasp a smooth, fully formed shell that was striking for one reason – it was a deep cerulean blue the likes of which Killian never would have thought would grace a shell in its natural climate. There were veins of white throughout the scalloped exterior, but it was so out of the common way that Killian was shocked, and then even more pleased to see that it was perfect, without a single chip or malformation in sight.

“Do you think it’s a sign, Swan, that a shell like this one should find us after a kiss like that?” he asked and Emma glanced back up at him curiously, almost as if she was searching for something that Killian couldn’t fully understand but then she bit her bottom lip and smiled.

“Yeah I think it might be,” she said, tucking the shell into the pocket of his jacket that he was still wearing before taking Killian’s hand again and heading for the observatory.

They tarried there inside the tower a while too, and it was a well founded activity because there wasn’t a cloud in sight and the stars were fully there’s to enjoy as the sun fully faded from the horizon. But even if Killian would have liked to stay there forever, it wasn’t an option. The end of their night would eventually come, and when he could see the hour was late enough for Emma to feel likes she should head home, he maneuvered them back to the car and drove them home to Storybrooke once more.

Walking back up to Emma’s front door, Killian felt the impending separation that had to come, bit he hoped to draw out this final moment they had together and postpone that lonely walk he’d have to make from Emma’s door to his own. As he did he soaked in this feeling that only a spectacular first date could bring, looking at Emma who was wearing her heart on her sleeve as she had been since their talk back on the beach and still allowing that openness of before to permeate between them.

“I had a really good time tonight, Killian,” Emma whispered finally, and the silkiness of her voice wrapped around him in a tantalizing way. She wasn’t trying to be flirtatious either, it was just a natural ability she had to draw him in and Killian was so far past trying to resist her.

“I’m glad to hear that, love, because it means that should I ask you’ll likely indulge me in another night like this one.”

“You mean you’re not sure if you want to ask?” Emma countered, her humor returning and that element of mischievousness infiltrating her persona. Killian chuckled as he stepped towards her, but it ebbed away when she mirrored his actions, filling the space around him with her all consuming presence once more.

“There’s nothing in the world I’m more certain of than my desire to do this again, Emma. I just want to make sure your feelings are the same,” Killian confessed and Emma beamed up at him before giving him a look that told him she had something to say that would likely brighten up his whole bloody universe.

“I might be on a somewhat similar page,” Emma said and her mirth and playfulness was the last push Killian needed to close the remaining gap between them. He muttered about how he’d get her on the same damn page in no time before kissing her and feeling all of that electricity and magic and hope all over again.

In this kiss as with their others, Killian gave all of himself to Emma, but he was also aware of their surroundings and the need to be somewhat more reserved than they had been before. Being so close to home meant that Henry could be watching, or more possibly that Emma’s friends could be spying on them, but Killian couldn’t resist the chance for this last interlude together, especially since it would have to tide him over at least until tomorrow.

Breaking away from her in the end was hard, but it had to be done, and when Emma turned around to shrug off his jacket Killian helped her with the action, letting his fingertips linger on her skin in the moment and cursing himself for doing it. He was already wound too tight, already wanting too much, and now he was just teasing himself and her into more of a frenzy. But it didn’t matter, because someday, even if it wasn’t today or tomorrow, Killian would get his chance at more with Emma. He just had to be patient.

With a quiet goodbye, Emma slipped back into her house then and Killian, deciding to preserve her privacy over lingering longer as he might have wanted, headed back home, entering the place that could feel nothing but empty after the night he’d had. Though there was one tiny form of consolation, and it came in the form of that loveable kitten that was always so eager to see him. Automatically Killian moved down to pay Luna some attention before tossing his keys on the side table and hanging up his jacket.

Only then did one last thing click for Killian – in giving back his jacket Emma had likely given back the shell that was meant to be a keepsake for Emma and Henry. Hoping to right that wrong and return the item before he forgot, Killian moved his hand into the pocket of his coat, finding that the shell was still there safe and sound. He let out a relieved breath upon the discovery, but when he pulled it from the confines of the leather jacket, he was surprised to see the colors weren’t those that he remembered, for instead of a crisp blue and white there was now a warmth that hadn’t been there with gold swirled around in the design as well.

“What the…?” Killian muttered aloud, wondering if his mind had been playing tricks on him back on the beach or if it was doing so now, but in his gut he knew what he’d seen, and he knew that somehow, someway, this tiny ornament had been changed along their jounrey back home.

There was no logical way to describe this transformation, no rational way to understand how it could have happened but it had, and though it was a shock to see, it also didn’t surprise Killian, not really anyway. Because underneath all of his reason and his rationale and his search for things that made sense, Killian’s heart was telling him there was nothing to be feared. This was just another little piece of a puzzle he’d been grappling with since arriving in Storybrooke, one that included gardens that grew too quickly, explosions in kitchens that left no trace of damage, and a woman next door and her exuberant son who pulled him in like nothing and no one ever had before.

In the face of his uncertainty, it was that last part that Killian clung to, because to him it was the only part that counted. No matter what was going on in this town and with the people who lived here, one thing was for sure: Killian had meant what he said tonight about not going anywhere, and he intended to stay and to fight for a chance to be a part of Emma and Henry’s lives come hell or high water.

So he wrote a note that said as much and left it on Emma’s back porch railing with the shell in a spot he knew Emma would see the next morning when she came to check her flowers. And with that, Killian returned home once more and headed to bed hoping that this would be the proof Emma needed to know that he could be trusted with anything and that his feelings for her would remain through anything that she could possibly throw his way.

Post-Note: So first and foremost I want to thank you all for your patience in waiting for this update. I was planning to get it out earlier, but with everything that happened this week it just didn’t get done like I hoped. However getting to write this fluffy installment helped to brighten my mood considerably and I hope it’s granted even a little bit of that to you all. As you can probably guess from where I am ending this chapter, yes, Killian is well on his way to uncovering the truth and (surprise!) it’s not going to change how he feels or what he wants. What will be unfolding in the next few chapters is Emma’s personal character development. This will be one of the hardest things Emma has ever had to do (coming clean about her magic and hoping Killian won’t reject her) and it will take some time to all come together, but I promise the pay off will be worth it when it comes. Anyway, hope you are all doing well and thank you again for reading!!

#captain swan #captain swan au #cs fic #cs ff #cs au #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fluff #cs first date #emma swan #killian jones #elsa #henry #real world magic?#some call it magic #some call it magic au #some call it 6 #ouat au

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thesecretlifeofkelseybeatty · 7 years

Text

Notes from the Graduation Freak Out:

THINGS TO DO

finish sorting photos

get photo white shelf

hang white photo shelving in closet, small mirror in room

paint my room, ryans room (white doors and shelf too)

goodwill, find a place to sell prom/homecoming dresses

put everything from attic into ryans closet

clean carpet with pee on it

mail thank you cards

make cd of already taken senior pictures for shannon

call environment about supplies

wash all clothes

move ryan's bed

clean out garage

move my bed downstairs

strip mom's furniture

get ready for graduation party

call about catering

tell tammy about what kind of cupcakes

get ping pong, badmitten, and bag toss games

get tables and chairs

ymca re-hire sheet find out hours

wordsmith

daze, fogg, glare

tingle incessent

alive feel grudges sinuses temples

buzz

like opening a new liter of pop incessantly over and over

Buzz, you experience every atom within you silently reverberating like a drugish high you can compare to when you were young and in revolt. Its the kind of feeling that reassures you - your still alive. You feel think and are three in one in the image of the creator.

Brooke -

I remember from a young age I could be friends with anyone - one on one. I always had the ability to watch people, understand them, initiate conversation and act how I would procieve they would want me to act. I could conform to whoever they needed me to be and I liked it that way.

With each different individual a different side of myself would shine through. Around Demi I always wanted to hear and tell stories, Around Roni I would burp on demand, Around Abby I always wanted to be a badass girl, Around Tori I would incessantly chat, But around you I would simply be more myself.

I honestly can't say that about any other friend. There are just certain people who were destined to click with….. I was a friendly yet generic human being. If anyone needed a friend I was there to suffice their need. I could conform to whoever they needed me to be and I liked that. They w….

However - I knew in the seventh grade when you sat behind me in Mr. Maney's class that you were significantly different. I loved leaving Mrs. Cavanaugh's room and coming to history because I'd get to chill with you for an hour. You were the coolest person I knew and I honestly didn't think you liked me that much because you already had so many other friends. In my eyes you were super popular and I could tell why. I wanted to be your best friend but I knew it probably wouldn't happen. As time went on we started to hangout a lot. You were the link in the chain that led me to all the people I considered to be my friends. If it wasn't for you I would've had a completely different experience at SJHS but because of you I had some of the best times of my life. I remember so vividly cackling as we made fun of Mr. Maney and used our feet to look through our history books as we took the same test over and over again - learning absolutely nothing and Taylor McNutt would turn around from the front of the classroom and stare like we were freaks. Then in eighth grade when we watched that one movie in history with Estep and that light was shinning all awkwardly in your eyes and your flipped out and I started cackling and Estep almost had to stop the movie to correct us. And how we thought we were so badass because everyday we would sit down for the pledge because thats what Mrs. Jordan did and she was the coolest teacher. So many people look back at junior high and say that everyone has to go through that awkward phase but for us those were our glory days. Life was beautiful.

When every I hear about someone else's junior high synopsis I always hear about how awkward and terrible their years were - how everyone was just trying to fit in and figure out who they really were. When I look back - I don't see that at all. Those were our glory days. In junior high, life was beautiful.

Since then, 4 years have passed and we both have drastically changed. We are not our junior high selves.

There are few people who I open up to.

I might not have always been your best friend, but I remember since Mr. Maney's class in the seventh grade you were the only person who You were the link to the group who became my best friends.

Drew, I know were not as close as we used to be but you are still one of my very best friends. Wether you realize it or not - you mean so much to me. It has been awesome watching God unfold His plans for you. Though right now your path may seem vague, beautiful blooms are sprouting. Be faithful and patient and God will reveal everything He has in store for you. I love you and am praying for you. Thanks for being such a good friend.

Paley - You crack me up. I know we got off to a rough start but I'm genuinely thankful I've gotten to know you over the past four years. You made our soccer team a blast. We couldn't have asked for a better captain or team mate. My prayers go out to you as you start at MVNU next year. I hope you and your cutie stay solid and that you guys love it there. Good luck!

Demi,

Tori, we've been friends going on 15 years now.

Elizebeth Dorthey Grove,

You crack me up. I'm really thankful that I've gotten to know you better this year. Playing sports with you was something I'll never forget. Your carefree personality added so many laughs to my year. Good luck with school dilemma, it's obvious that God is with you in this situation wether you realize it or not.

Proverbs 3:5-6

Jenny Filaseta, You are one of the only people who I can say has known me throughout my life. Though we haven't been extremely close throughout it's entriety - there have been moments when I would have called you my best friend. I'm so thankful for the memories that we share and the new experiences we will share in at Sinclair. Best of luck!

Alyssa DarkoW

Dana Golich

looking back im actually really sad i didn't get to knw you better. you are a cool person with such a beautiful heart. Best of luck next year at college! And - we deffinately need to chill sometime this summer!

Alexis Colon

Andrea Meholick

Julia Hitchcock

Emily Clark, You may not realize this, but you are one of my favorite people.

Brady Kleindenst

Lane Collins

Kelly Wall

Miss Snook,

If you were 40 years younger, I would've wanted you to be my best friend. I'm envious of your commitment to Christ. Because of your commitment, God uses you in so beautiful ways and I can't help but desire that in my own life. Though you may not realize, you have planted so many good seeds in our class this year. You've reprimanded us, encouraged us and overall taught us so much more than sign language. I'm so thankful God placed you in my life at this vital time.

I say all this not because I want you to feel proud of yourself but because I want you to continue. Thank you so much for being a good example of what a disciple looks like.

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judaru · 7 years

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Year End Writing Progress Meme

Ahh, I’ve seen a lot of people in the magi fandom doing @dragonofeternal‘s writing meme, and it looked really fun so I thought that I would give it a shot! This year has been really fun for me in terms of writing, and I’ve never really written much before like, September of this year, so I thought it would be fun to reflect on all of the writing and improvement that I’ve done this year! ♡

[Here is my AO3 in case anyone was wondering! I write a lot of Sinju while crying I just… I just want them to be happy so bad *prayer emoji*]

Total Word Count: 77,415 -AO3: 61,873 -WIPs: 4,000 -Planning: 11,542

Total Projects: 14 (most are still just planning tho OTL) Magi: 14 (I also have planning for some Arslan Senki and Twin Signal stuff, but that’s the kind of self-indulgent thing that won’t ever get posted and lives at the bottom of my drafts, so I didn’t think it was worth mentioning ^^;)

Types of Fanfic Projects: -Chaptered Fics: 2 -Oneshots: 5 -WIP/Unposted: 7

Improvement over last year: Infinity LMAO I didn’t really write anything last year! I kinda dabbled in Edvy and stuff but… I don’t really talk about that anymore lmao

AWARDS

Top 3 projects I wrote the most for: 1) Melt (49,629) 2) Mistletoe (3,006) 3) Stay (2,386) (I guess it’s pretty easy to tell where all my effort went… lmaO)

Top 3 most popular by kudos: 1) Melt (150) 2) Stay (47) 3) Ocean’s Kiss (31) (tbh I’m like… really overwhelmed with all of the kudos I’ve gotten ghsudfksfsd I was honestly expecting like a dozen odd kudos and a paperclip because I’ve really just.. never posted writing before?? So the positive feedback was really overwhelming and I cry a lot LMAO)

Top 3 most popular by comment threads: 1) Melt (62) 2) Ocean’s Kiss (11) 3) Stay (6) (Obviously Melt won out because… I’ve put my whole life into it lmaO but I was really really surprised that the Mermaid AU did so well?? Everyone seemed to really like that one kdfjsfs so I’m really excited to write more of it in the coming months !!)

Most fun to write: Oh man rfsjdkhgj I have a lot of fun writing in general aaaaaah that’s why I post so much and clog the archive all the time omg I’m sorry? I think the winner is probably Ocean’s Kiss, my Sinju mermaid AU :’) The concept of a mermaid AU has always been very dear to my heart–the first thing I ever did in magi fandom was actually a mermaid AU rp with my friend–so I had planned to write it from the beginning, tbh? It just took me a while to get to, but it’s just so so much fun to write, I think Judal definitely fits the role of troublemaking siren, with Sinbad as his idiot pirate of course :’) god i love them im gonna start crying Sexiest moment: lmao im 15 and inexperienced and really, really not good at writing sexy scenes sorry @ all of my readers who arent minors hgrfudkfhfj but I guess Burn was fun to write lmao? it was masshar and it was supposed to have a blowjob scene but then i remembered that.. i dont know how to write porn.. so it was just needy sharrkan and grinding gudfkjfsdhc but it was fun i guess Funniest moment: im literally not good at any of these hdiufks my humor scenes fall SO FLAT i hate it but i was laughing at myself in the mermaid au because every time judal smacked sinbad in the face with his tail i felt 10 years being added onto my lifespan tbh.. i was cackling ND ALSO in melt any time ja’far is talking to sinbad about judal frsdkjgvhd i liked those scenes.. every time ja’far said shit like “i mean he’s cute but he can’t be here sin” i laughed @ myself Hardest to write: group settings ugh please kill me i hate when im writing and there’s twelve people in the scene like i’m bound to forget 7 of them its just the nature of the beast? exhausting. like every chapter in melt where there’s a festival and all the generals are there is so harD for me *eyeroll emoji* and i have one more festival scene planned so its gonna have to happen AGAIN and im gonna suffer Big Time™ Biggest Disappointment: i vastly underestimated both the size and demand for masshar fic and i was kinda sad when it only got like 5 kudos hrifgj i really thought there was still a masshar ship community but there wasNT and it flopped lmao. but i still like writing masshar and honestly i’d probably do it again tbh? it was still fun :^) Most Surprising: ocean’s kiss hdsufkfgs lmao that thing got comments from people who hadn’t showed up in the sinju fandom for months to years and i was crying the whole time.. it was a fic that meant a lot to me too so the fact that it got so much sweet feedback really made me ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ Favorite story of the year: probably melt tbh :,) i put my heart and soul into that fic and the fact that it did much, much better than i’d first anticipated just made me so happy ♡ its about halfway done now and I can’t wait to tell the rest of it!! i have so many plans I am crying Something I want to revisit: like, half the chapters in melt ghfudeilfjge anD ALSO THE HOLIDAY AUS i wrote them when i was really sad and upset for Reasons so they weren’t as cheery as i would’ve liked :( first snow was cuter because it was posted later and i was happier then but.. mistletoe was written when i was :V about a lot of things so I’d like to rewrite it someday.. maybe next christmas :’)

What writing risks did I take and how did they pay off: I.. honestly didn’t take that many risks? I think the biggest risk that I ever could’ve taken was to write for myself. I really really tried to write only things that made me happy, and I was really nervous as to how the reception of that would be, but it turned out really well!! I’ve got a lot of sweet comments and feedback from readers, and the response was more than I every could’ve asked for ♡ Writing goals for 2017: my goal is to finish Melt before the end of the school year, preferably before the end of April. I also just really wanna try harder to stick to my freaking update schedule because, like, some people are banging out a solid 7k every week, people with JOBS, and I’m still in high school and I can barely finish my measly 4k by Sunday ghfdklrgjdj. I just need to work harder on time management tbh, but overall I just wanna write more in 2017!

This was really fun to do!! Thanks again to dragonofeternal for sharing their template, I think doing these meme really helped me get my thoughts together and decide where to go with my writing in 2017. I can’t wait to write more for the new year! ♡

#magi #sinju #my writing #lmao i kinda lost hold on grammar like halfway through this and just started bsing everything #its like 1am nd im TIRED #but this was fun :^)#thanks for sharing the template!

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erickmalpicaflores · 5 years

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Erik Malpica Flores Erik Malpica Flores recommends: How (Not) To Support Your Family

Photo by: USA Network

If SUITS has had one consistent theme throughout its eight seasons, it’s been that of Insert Firm Name Here as a family unit. In “Stalking Horse,” one of the so-called family’s longtime members (in)conveniently forgot what it meant to have faith in the guy who has always come through for her, regardless of how many times it meant risking his own neck. On the opposite side of the spectrum, the newest addition to the family was willing to go the extra mile to make sure one of her own would never have to live in fear again.

How not to be an “empowered woman.” At this point, there’s probably not much that can be said to make sense of Donna Paulsen’s arc in SUITS’ eighth season. In fact, ever since viewers asked for more background for the character, the writing has become inconsistent to the point of madness, turning Donna into a parody of all the things that made folks fall in love with her in the first place. Donna used to be wise; now, she offers up relationship advice while being completely incapable of anything resembling intelligence in her own. She used to care about her family; now, she puts men she’s been on a few dates with ahead of the very same people who would rather die than see her in danger.

And, once upon a time, she was a woman of her word. But now, it seems, she’s perfectly fine with making promises she doesn’t intend to keep.

When Harvey Specter’s client, Simon Lowe, expressed interest in having Donna’s instant “great love,” Thomas Kessler, as an anchor for his 20 new malls, Harvey immediately saw the conflict of interest. Through Alex Williams, the firm had already negotiated a solid deal for Kessler; and representing both sides of this kind of litigation was a terrible idea.

Further complicating the issue was, of course, Donna’s morning announcement that she was seeing Thomas. But clearly, that stunted conversation was just about letting a name partner at Insert Firm Name Here know that the COO was involved with a client and not, you know, Donna playing some sort of game with the feelings that she and Harvey totally don’t have for each other.

Since Lowe was offering better terms, though, Harvey was able to get Alex and Thomas on board; so, seemed like everything was going to work out, conflict of interest or not. Two lawyers, two clients, a handshake, done deal. Right? Wrong.

It turned out that Simon was just using Thomas as a stalking horse to woo Restoration, and that whole rookie mistake of “oh, we don’t need contracts. Let’s just shake hands” (or whatever the line was) came back to bite everyone — especially Harvey. His skeevy client threatened him with retaliation if he shared the privileged information of his screwjob with anyone. Which, of course, Harvey did: first with Alex and, later, with Donna.

…can we not with the “I want to take my boyfriend of five minutes out to celebrate his new deal, so I’m demanding you give me privileged information,” though? No? Ok. Thought I’d ask.

Once she learned what she had demanded to know, Donna berated Harvey for putting her in a “shitty position,” to which he had an actually accurate assessment of the situation as a comeback: “No, Donna. Simon put us all in a shitty position. I’m busting my ass to get us out of this. I just need you to trust me.” Donna said she’d trust Harvey, but as soon as she’d had a few sips of wine and listened to Thomas boast about business on a date — so much for the whole separating work and pleasure idea, yet again — she ran out of that trust.

One secret phone call, a promise to have faith, and cuddle time with Mr. Right Now later, and Donna forgot about said promise. She told Thomas everything, and the diarrhea hit the fan. Big time. Forget the fact that Harvey had sabotaged Simon’s deal with Restoration, and he had Alex work on a better deal for Thomas from his original landlord. Thomas felt the need to throw his weight around via a press release, and Simon found out.

Lowe confronted Harvey and Alex, fired Mr. Best Closer In The City, and — here’s the fun part! — enlisted Daniel Hardman to sue the firm on his behalf. But everything’s fine here because Donna’s now looking out for herself and, like, totally has it all now. If “it all” means breaking the trust (and the heart) of someone who has repeatedly put everything on the line for her, that is.

But I’ll let Harvey close us out here on this one because, quite frankly, the writers had him say everything remotely important on the matter: “Then, don’t feel bad about it Donna. Get out of my office.” Wait. That’s not it. “Because you didn’t give me a chance to fix it when you said you would. You lost faith in me! For all of the time that we have been together, that has never happened.”

And there you have it. But sure, Donna, it was just that Harvey was jealous because you chose Thomas over him — unlike, you know, how he chose you keeping the job you “love” over his own relationship.

And now, the hero of SUITS season 8, Samantha Wheeler. While Harvey was busy being victimized by someone who used to care about him, Sam proved herself a worthy new member of the “What’s This Firm’s Name This Week?” family by helping Louis move past his mugging.

Louis and Sheila were shopping for expensive baby stuff for their rich friends to buy them as gifts, when Louis received a mood-killing phone call. There was finally a lead on the guy who had stolen his wallet back in the (now-forgotten, as far as most of the plot goes) first half of SUITS season 8. All Louis had to do was identify the mugger in a lineup — or so he thought. After making a positive identification, Louis learned that he would be called upon to testify against the suspect in court.

Not really sure why this was surprising to a lawyer but ok.

Because he’d had such a difficult time looking at his attacker through two-way glass, Louis couldn’t deal with even the thought of having to face the guy in a courtroom. Off he went to get Sam to validate his feelings on the matter…only to be told that avoiding court was completely out of the question. She did, however, promise Louis that she’d be with him “every step of the way,” if only he’d trust her.

Unlike certain other folks, everyone was honest here. Sam did stay by Louis’ side, right up until the very end, and Louis trusted her to do so. Because family sticks together. (Usually.)

The road to Louis’ freedom from fear wasn’t exactly smooth. The first bump in the road came when, during trial preparation, Louis couldn’t share his feelings. In an emotionally-charged scene, he finally broke down when pushed; and Louis’ mock testimony transferred seamlessly to the real, in-court version. But the case was thrown out, regardless of how gut-wrenching Louis’ courtroom confession was, because the defense was able to prove that the incriminating evidence was obtained via an illegal search.

Although it should have been, all hope was not lost. Because Samantha Wheeler doesn’t give up on the people she cares about, she came to Louis with an offer of a way to make sure that the trial wasn’t the end of this story. Initially, Louis just wanted to drop everything because he was so afraid that the mugger would want revenge; but after a particularly vivid nightmare, he decided he wanted in on Samantha’s plan to plant new evidence, after all.

Robert showed up at just the right time to talk Sam out of getting herself into trouble, though, so she found another way: slightly-less-illegal blackmail. Once again, Louis was hesitant — this plan meant potentially forcing a child out of her home — but when Sam reminded Louis that his own family’s safety was on the line, he was back in. Off SUITS’ newest Batman and Robin (Sam is clearly Batman here) went to save the day. Louis stood up to his attacker, and Sam pinned the guy down long enough to force him to turn himself in.

Robert knew something less-than-legitimate went down and, yet again, he confronted Samantha about her willingness to do the wrong thing for the right reasons. For her part, Sam was just happy that Louis was now safe and couldn’t figure out why Robert saw that as a bad thing. Robert’s answer? He was afraid it would become a bad thing for Sam.

To be continued, I suppose. Something tells me that, regardless of his reservations with regards to how she handled her business, Robert will be there to back Sam up if and when she needs his help, though. Because, you know, family.

Thoughts and prayers.

Can’t believe someone finally wrote a scene with Donna’s mom for…this.

Farewell, Craig from Degrassi. Please let us know what it feels like to be a ghost when you get a chance.

I know SUITS is all about baiting viewers with too-real dreams that never come true, but I was honestly afraid for Louis’ life during his nightmare. Oops.

“You got me over here at eight, and I don’t even like to be up at eight, so…” Harvey is me, and I am Harvey.

No, really. I, too, would die for Donna, even though I don’t know who the hell she is right now and have been victimized by her idiotic behavior. I am absolutely Harvey.

“This thing isn’t over. I just need you to have faith.” Harvey, honey, I have so much faith in you. Your creator and your whatever-she-is, on the other hand…

“That’s one of the things that I admire about you: You’re a man of your world.” Are we even sure about that?

“You don’t know because you’ve never had to let someone see what he did to you — how he made you helpless and scared, like a child.” If anyone wants to know why women rarely come forward about sexual assault, here’s reason #298739, straight from a man’s mouth and about a completely different type of crime.

Is Thomas Kessler the dumbest guy ever or what? Donna was drinking wine, perfectly fine, and then suddenly needed a ginger ale. And he questioned nothing. Strong relationship!

Harvey instantly fell in love with Donna’s coffee recipe; Thomas took a while to warm up to it. That is all.

“Then, you don’t know anything. Because the only reason I was breaking my back to save this deal is because I know how much he means to you. If it was anyone else, I never would’ve told you or Alex in the first place.” I just want to hold him. The great irony here is that, while Scottie told Donna that she hoped Harvey would one day see “what everyone else sees,” it’s Donna who’s blind right now.

“Trust me. No one understands sacrificing for their family more than me. I’m proud of you.” Coming from Louis Litt, I actually believe this line. If certain other characters had delivered it, though…

“If you don’t put him away, he will haunt you for the rest of your life. You are doing this so you won’t ever have to be afraid again, so do not be afraid of your emotions now.” Heigl’s delivery here was about as perfect as you could get. If anyone, or anything, is the saving grace of SUITS’ eighth season, it’s her.

The SUITS season finale airs on Wednesday, February 27, at 10/9c on USA.

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