God. The idea that I ever had the core strength to do things like Mayurasana or Sirsa Padasana pose is wild. It's just so far removed from my current daily existence where I struggle to pull myself upright in bed and just recently strained my Achilles tendon by stepping funny.

Chronic illness is such a bitch 😂

ca you do a bts or nct version of the got7 (a member yells at you) imagine you did a while ago :) thank you

PT. 1

Your stomach was a never ending pit of nerves. All day circling the web were pictures of H/N smiling as he whispered in some girl you didn't recognized ear. You paced, constantly checking his location as you waited for him to get home. You had a plan, to ask him about the pictured rationally, and not jump to any conclusions until you had a chance to talk to him. It was the right thing to do, and for all you knew it was one of his make up artists and she was fixing something on his face. You knew not to believe the comments on line.  ‘We need to talk.’   

Your heart stopped at his text, and everything you did to try to get yourself to calm down and think rationally. He showed up guns a blazing, throwing his backpack on the ground and kicking off his shoes. Seeing the way he was reacting made your blood boil. He had no right to be the mad one in this situation. 

“What is your deal?” You asked as he completely ignored you to open your fridge. 

“My deal? Why, do you think your special enough to know everything that is going through my head?” He snapped back. 

“Um, no? I guess? But I definitely think Im special enough to get an answer to something as drastic as this?” You said with a sarcastic tone as you slid your phone with the picture on it across the counter at him. 

“God, you really are crazy, aren't you.” He started, his voice raising. “You know, maybe instead of obsessing over me, and trying to keep your relevance through me you should grow up and get a life of your own!”

He watched you with hateful eyes as tears started to well up. He knew the one thing you were the most insecure about was the perception that you were only with him for his fame. 

You turned and walked into your bedroom, locking the door behind you. What ever was going on in the photo didn't matter anymore. He went somewhere you never thought he would go, and the thought that he felt like you were only with him to stay ‘relevant’ broke your heart. 

Taeyong:

He must have left after his blow up because there was no attempt to come after you. You laid in your room crying for hours, and when the tears finally seemed to stop you left your room to a dark apartment. It wasn't hard to notice the things he brought with him were all gone, and he was no where to be found. You sat in your dark apartment not doing anything for a long time, not really sure what to do. Or where you stood with Taeyong. It wasn't until your phone lit up did your eyes leave the window you stared out of. It was him.  You contemplated not answering, but deciding to be the bigger person you answered and put the phone on speaker, but didn't say anything. 

“Y/n?” He said. His voice completely different from before. You didn't answer.  “Im sorry.” He started, you could imagine him hunched over picking at his nails as he spoke. You thought about biting back but chose against it, not wanting to cause anymore damage.  “That picture was a set up, if you will. My make up artist wanted a picture that made it look like we were in a relationship to show he friends but when her friends posted it it became a huge problem. I spent all day being yelled at for something I didn't realize was happening. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. 

You could hear the sadness in his voice, so you had to forgive him, but you made it very clear that you were not okay, and he would spend how ever long it took to make it up to you. 

Kun:

He’d be quick to realize just how out of place he was and would quickly run after you, stopping to door before it could fully lock. He’d just grab you and hug you tightly. He wouldn't say anything, because he wouldn't know what to say, but you could tell by the way he hugged you he wanted to take back everything he said. He’d hold you until you eventually wrapped your arms around him too, and once you did a tear would roll down his cheek.  “I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have taken my bad day out on you.” He said, a sad smile on his lips as he tucked a stray hair or two of yours behind your ear. 

He’d tell you all about his day and how he got ripped for falling into a trap set for him by a stylist. He wouldn't ignore what it was he said either, and make it very clear that he didn't think at all that you were in anyway only with him because he was famous. 

By the time night rolled around the two of you had slumped into the bed and laid there giggling, as he got around to telling you about the good things that happened during his day. 

Taeil:

Speaking to anyone like this was so out of character for him, and it shocked him just as much as it shocked you that he exploded like that. He’d stand there, staring at your door, not sure what to do, and he’d stand there, staring as he listened to your sobs, completely frozen. He’d eventually move to the couch, and sit there with his head in his hands, completely confused as to what it was he was going to do to make this situation better. 

When you finally came out, the sight of youre red face made him break down. You were shocked to see he was still there. You were also confused as to why he didnt try to talk to you in the hours past. He would just look at you with the saddest eyes and and when you sat next to him hed turn his head into your shoulder and whisper ‘im sorry’ as you stroked his hair. 

You wouldnt be able to bring up the photo again. Youd hear from other members about the situation and how the picture looked 100x worse than it actually was. Theyd also tell you that you werent the only one accusing him of something he would never do in a hundred years, and how he came to your place right after Johnny and Jaehyun ripped him for it looking like he was being unfaithful. 

Johnny:

You would hear the front door slam right after you slammed your own door, and you wouldn't hear from him until the next day. You had spent alright feeling sick to your stomach, convinced now that your relationship was over. He had never yelled at you like that, so to be in this situation you feared the worse. The next day you laid on your couch, still softly crying at the thought of loosing him, and the last words he would have said to you. 

You got up only when there was a knock on your door. Lifelessly you walked to it and slowly open it. Only to turn around and walk away when you saw Johnny standing there looking just a rough as you probably did. You turned to walk away but the feeling of him quickly grabbing you from behind and holding you tight made you tense up. 

You honestly didnt know if you could forgive him, but as he held you tightly he spoke into your shoulder a sincere apology. You turned when he was finished to see he had started to cry and when you walked away slightly he let out a soft sob. 

“You cant treat me like that.” You said sternly, tears forming in your own eyes. You watched as he nodded and sighed before wrapping your blanket around him and accepting him as he wrapped you in his arms. The two of you stood like that for a while, and once he was finally ready to talk again he explained everything and how it was just one big misunderstanding. 

Yuta:

He wouldnt take you storming off as an answer. He would be fully aware of his actions and he would act fast to fix it. He’d grab your hand before you could turn to close the door and pull you back out to the kitchen. He’d point at your phone and tell you quickly that this photo was a misunderstanding and the person who took it posted it with malicious intent. As soon as that was out his tone would soften. He would explain where he was coming from. How he had just got out of a five hour meeting where he had to convince people who didnt believe him the truth and then help identify the person who posted the photo. 

When that was done explaining that he acknowledge what he said. But by the time he had gotten to that you were already holding his hand and had already made up your mind to forgive him. Hed sigh, feeling bad now for ruining the evening, but things would get back to normal when you suggested food, and the two of you would be able to unwind on the couch

Doyoung:

Doyoung would be in shock at your reaction, and then what he said would really settle in. Hed sit at your door, knocking and pleading for you to open the door. Hed send apologies your way through the door as he desperately tried to get you to open it. When you finally did, hed just look at you and when the tear you were trying to hold back finally broke hed sigh and wrap you in a hug. Hed tell you he didnt mean what he said. He’d apologize for taking his hard day out on you and ask you if you wanted to hear about the picture. 

The look on his face though had already confirmed that it was all a miss understanding, so when you shook your head he would nod and pull you into a soft, sweet kiss. Hed ask you if you forgave him and you would see the world lift off his shoulders when you nodded. Seeing how hard he fought to get you to understand was more than enough. 

 I was going to do all 23 members but... its alot. So heres part one. 

Kitty

My Light (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor)

Summary: You and Roger have have been in a relationship for a while and you started to feel like you should take your relationship further, since things were getting more serious. On your way back from a lovely evening out, you ask him to meet your parents before both of you leave on your trip to France, only you were struck with some terrible news.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Woo I finally wrote something again!! This was written for @bensrogers 3k celebration, congrats dummy :) The prompt inspiring this fic was “distance makes the heart grow fonder” and I’ve honestly been procrastinating on writing this for Years and I didn’t really proofread, so please excuse grammatical errors. I kinda feel like this one sucks and it could’ve been better, but with that said I hope you guys enjoy My Light!

Roger had been humming the tune you’d heard at dinner the entire way home. You hand was loosely intertwined with his as he swung it back and forth to the the slow romantic rhythm of the tune. He opened the door for you and let you lead him in. The room was cold and pitch black. Roger continued humming and raised his arm and twirled you under it.

You giggled, “Roger hold on let me find the light switch, I can’t see.”

He stopped humming. “Who needs light when I’ve got you, you’re my light,” he said pulling you closer to him by your waist so that you were against each other.

You rolled your eyes, not that the lack of light allowed him to see you do it anyways. “Alright, you may have had a bit too much bubbly, Mr. Corny.” You pushed yourself away from him and made your way to the wall to feel around and turn on the light. “There, much better. See?”

“Too bright,” he said, squinting his eyes. You rolled your eyes once more and led him up the stairs by his hand to wind down after an eventful evening.

When you got to the bedroom, Roger immediately flopped onto the bed and you took a seat on the bench across the room facing the small vanity mirror. You could see Roger behind you through it looking absolutely exhausted.

“Hey Rog, I uhh- I wanted to ask you a question,” you said, taking off your earrings. “Hmm?” he replied, eyes still closed sleepily. “I was thinking before we go on our trip you could maybe meet my parents?” you suggested timidly.

He sat up upon hearing that. His expression was slightly stunned, but overall unreadable.

“I just think it makes sense, we’ve been together long enough and we’re going on a trip together and that way, if it goes great we can start France off strong, and if it goes terribly, and i’m sure it won’t but if it does, we can just leave and forget about it and go eat some croissants or baguettes or whatever they have there,” you were rambling now and you didn’t hear him try to get your attention, “and you know i’m super excited because I know I’ve said this a hundred times before but I’ve always wanted to go and it’s going to be so fun and we’d get to see all the sights, the Eiffel Tower, the-”

“Y/N!” he said again slightly louder this time.

You blinked at his interruption, confused.

He bit his lip and his eyes fell downward. “I’ve been-“ he sighed, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You could tell by his expression and tone that it wasn’t going to be good. The excitement in your face dimmed as you prepared for what might possibly come next.

“The boys and I, we’re uhh- we’ve got another tour coming up...” he trailed off, unable to continue his thought.

“Well, that’s great, you love touring,” you replied supportively, but still cautious.

“Yeah but the thing is... look, it uhh, it’ll get in the way of France. I won’t be able to go,” he said quietly.

Your expression fell completely. What he had said didn’t register immediately but when it did your emotions were jumbled.

Before you could respond he continued, “But I want to meet your parents, we can still do that, I’d love to meet them.” It was a vain attempt to soften the shattering news you’d just received.

You still couldn’t say anything, though a number of options were running through your head. You couldn’t sort out if you were angry or sad or a combination of both.

“Would you please say something?”

You turned around from the mirror to look at him. “What would you like me to say? I can’t say anything, can I?” You got up from the bench and stood facing him head on.

He looked at you apologetically. “Y/N-” he started, getting up as well and making his way to you.

You interrupted before he could continue, “We’ve been planning this trip for a year, Roger. You’ve already cancelled it once before because you needed to focus on your album and recording, and now you’re going to leave for tour again?”

“I’m sorry, I know, but you know I can’t do much about it, I wish I could,” he said, reaching for your hand as if establishing some sort of physical contact would ease your anger.

You pulled your hand away before he could touch it. “You can’t do anything? I’m sure you could’ve done something earlier, you’ve known we were going for so long!”

“Come on, love, don’t be like that.”

“You knew it would come in the way didn’t you? You knew! And you kept it from me!” Your voice was getting louder now, but you didn’t care. “You don’t even want to go with me do you?”

He frowned at your remark. “You think I don’t want to go with you? Really?” he said quietly.

Your face was getting hotter and you felt the threat of angry tears making their way out. “Yes! That’s exactly what I think! You can’t expect me to think otherwise when you’ve cancelled it not once, but twice!” The two of you were getting closer now as the argument continued.

His voice was beginning to get louder too. “You know how important these things are, Y/N! I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d be like this!”

That made you even angrier and you felt the tears well up in your eyes. “‘Like this’? How do you want me to react? We don’t keep things from each other, Roger! And that sure as hell isn't a good excuse! You know how badly I wanted to go on this trip with you! I just wanted to spend time with you, don’t you get that?” You were practically in each others faces at this point.

“Please, you don’t care about that, you only want to go for croissants and the goddamn Eiffel Tower and all that stupid shit,” he said, quite obviously with the intent of taking a jab at you.

You took a step back and blinked causing warm tears to fall down your cheeks. Roger had ripped you a new wound. “Yeah? Okay.” You nodded, looking away from him as more tears fell. As stupid as what he said was, it stung. Saying that you didn’t care about him made you want to punch him in the nose, and worse, it implied that maybe he didn’t know you, that you didn't know each other as well as you thought you did.

“If you think I don’t care about you being there.. If you think I don’t care about you, after all this time, then maybe we’re just not…” You sighed. You couldn’t finish, but you didn’t have to, he knew what you were saying. You turned and walked towards the door. Your hand rested on the doorknob and you turned your head slightly to look back at him. “Have fun on your tour, Roger,” you said, opening the door and leaving without another word.

When you stepped out, the rain was pouring and you braced yourself under the protection of the front door overhead before running towards your car. The rain temporarily camouflaged the tears on your face, but when you sat in your car they rolled down uncontrollably. You slammed your hands against the steering wheel, yelling curses, then finally collapsed onto the wheel with your head in your arms.

Meanwhile, in the house Roger was throwing things in anger at the walls, that somehow weren’t suffering any damages from his rampage.

Neither of you were going to sleep that night.

***

It’d been over two weeks since you’d left Roger’s house. In the aftermath of your argument you found yourself spending the time at your parents’ house about an hour away. You didn’t think your mum even liked the idea of him anymore after seeing what a wreck you’d become the past few days. It was ironic, only a little while back you wanted him to meet your parents and now you weren’t sure if they’d even look him in the eye if they saw him, but neither would you.

For the first three days you’d cried all that you could, the mixture of disappointment and anger and sadness and hurt had washed over and become more of a dull ache in your heart. The fact that you’d had no contact with him in the past two weeks helped, you wouldn’t be able to stand it if you had to hear his voice.

You’d been staying in for a while, not in the mood to go out or do anything really, but now you thought you were finally ready to leave the house. You took a long, almost boiling shower and came out feeling more refreshed than you have in a while. You threw on some fresh clothes and pulled your wet hair out of the towel.

You heard the doorbell from upstairs, but your parents were out, so you ran down the stairs to get it, ruffling your wet hair to break up the clumps. “Coming!” A trail of water drops followed you down to the door.

When you pulled the door open, your eyes met with his baby blues. Your heart dropped and you stepped back in shock. “R-Roger…” You swallowed hard.

“Hey, Y/N.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward, but his eyes were sad. “Can we talk?” His demeanor was that of a guilty puppy.

You wanted to slam the door in his face. In your mind you knew you should’ve, and seeing his face reminded you of the nights spent in tears. But thinking back to the events of that night, you felt a twinge of regret. Maybe if he’d come to you sooner you wouldn’t feel this way, you probably would’ve undoubtedly turned him away, but now you thought if anything you should at least let whatever this is play out, just to know. “I-uhh… yeah.” You opened the door further and stepped aside to let him in. “Yeah, sure.”

He stepped inside and you closed the door behind him. “These are uh- these are for you,” he said holding out the bouquet of white roses that were in his hand.

You took them from him timidly, but couldn’t bring yourself to thank him for them. You set them down on the table. “Rog, what are you doing here?” you asked, rather bluntly.

“I missed you,” he said, looking at the ground. “And I had to see you.” He met your eyes with his. “I kept thinking about how we left things and you haven’t been answering my calls and I couldn’t just-” he sighed, “I couldn’t just leave things the way they were.” He stepped closer to you and there was only about a foot between you. You were looking down to avoid his gaze.- “Y/N, I am so sorry. And I know that doesn’t cut it, I know we’re past that, but I had to say it. I’m sorry I was such a jerk, I’m sorry for not telling you, I’m sorry I didn’t just put you first.” It had seemed rehearsed, the way that each apology rolled into the next one.

Your eyes began to gloss over, part of you was still angry, but you wanted to forgive him, you wanted the pain to end. Your head was going back and forth like a pendulum trying to figure out if you should forgive him, if that really is the right decision for the both of you. Every negative emotion you felt in the aftermath of your argument boiled back up and you took a deep breath in, as if sucking in the air would keep the tears from surfacing.

As if he could hear the thoughts running through your mind, he continued, “You don’t have to forgive me, I don’t expect you to.”

“I want to…” you said softly. “I want to forgive you so badly. But every time I think about it, I remember that you lied and you kept secrets, despite the fact that you knew how important it was to me.”

“I know. I know I did, and Y/N I wish I could take all of it back, I do.”

You finally looked up at him, the pools slipping from your eyes. “If you knew I wouldn’t forgive you, then why did you come here,” you asked demandingly.

He bit his lip. “Just because I don’t expect you to, doesn’t mean I’m not hoping you will.” he replied quietly. “Y/N I need you. You’re my better half, you’re my light. And…” he trailed off.

You raised your eyebrows at him, silently urging him to continue.

“And I’m catching a flight tomorrow morning. I couldn’t leave without seeing you.”

The tension in your face released at that and you blinked in confusion. “You-You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” he replied softly.

A silence fell between you. His words, ‘you’re my light’ rang in your head. The awful feeling that came over you when he revealed that he was leaving made you realize that you need him, too. If you let him go without fixing things, you might lose him forever.

“Roger…”

His face lit up slightly with hope.

You looked up at him and lifted yourself up on your toes, holding on to him by his arms and pressed your lips against his. After the initial surprise, Roger bent down a bit to allow you to get off your toes and deepened the kiss. When you released you wrapped your arms around him, your cheek against his chest. “I forgive you,” you said.

You could feel the tension in his body loosen at your words.

“Thank god,” he said, resting his chin on your head. You stayed in your embrace for a while. “I missed this.” His eyes fell closed.

You pulled away suddenly to look him in the eyes, “but you aren’t getting off that easy, you need to promise you won’t ever, ever keep anything from me ever again.”

“I promise,” he said.

“I’m not done. You also have to make up for a lot when you get back. I’m going to hang this over your head for long time, so get ready buddy.”

He smiled down at you. “I’m gonna miss you when I’m gone.”

You sighed. “I don’t want you to go, Rog. We were going to spend a trip with no one but each other and now you’re going,” you said, knowing that it wouldn’t really make a difference.

“And I promise I will make up for that, but you know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

You scoffed, “Yeah well, whoever said that was stronger than me.”

He grabbed your hand and held it in his. “You’ll do fine and besides,” he pulled a stiff piece of paper from the inside of his jacket, “you’re going to meet me along the way.”

He handed it to you and you unfolded it. It was a plane ticket.

“Is this…”

“Yup” he confirmed, face gleaming.

The destination written on it: Orly Airport, France.

As you were about to say something else, your mother entered the room. Her smile fell when she noticed Roger in the room by your side.

“Who’s this?” she asked rather sharply, knowing in the back of her mind the identity of the blonde stranger.

“Mum- This is- Uh-” you sighed, “This is Roger.”

She frowned at the mention of his name. “What is he doing here?” she asked politely, but with a coarse undertone.

“I came to give Y/N here, these flowers,” he added in, picking them up from the table.

You looked up at Roger with a smile. “Yeah.” You turned your gaze back to your mother. “We’re alright,” you said, reassuring her.

Her expression softened. Roger stuck out a hand which she took hold of and shook softly.

“Rog?” He turned to look at you. “Would you like to stay for dinner? My mum makes a mean spaghetti and meatballs.”

“I’d love to.”

You and Roger helped set up the table, him placing the forks and knives slightly crooked, and you going behind him and fixing them.

From the kitchen you heard your mother, “Roger, honey, could you help me in the kitchen?”

He gave you a slightly nervous look and you smiled reassuringly at him. “Go, she doesn’t bite,” you said nodding your head in the direction of the kitchen.

He headed over to the kitchen and your mother was busy over the stove. He stood off to the side of her while she worked. “You need help?” he asked.

“Roger I called you in here to talk to you,” she said, still focusing on cooking.

He felt a pit in his stomach. This can’t be good.

She turned to him finally, “Y/N said that you’re both okay now, but you didn’t see her these past few days. My baby was really hurting, I need you to promise me that won’t happen again.”

He felt a pang of guilt at hearing that. Having to face you after hurting you was already difficult enough, but hearing it from your mother made him feel a new level of terrible.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, I am so sorry I put her through that. I made a mistake, it was stupid and selfish of me. But I love your daughter, more than anything. I promise I won’t ever hurt her again.”

His voice was sincere and apologetic, and you could hear it from the corner outside the kitchen where you were eavesdropping.

“Right then,” she said. She turned to the cupboard and grabbed the bowls. “Here,” she said, plopping them into his hands with a smile.

He smiled back at her and exited the kitchen. When he turned the corner he saw you, leaning against the wall outside the kitchen. “Hey, whatcha doing there?”

You straightened up quickly. “Uh- nothing…”

He chuckled a bit. “So how much of that did you hear?”

The corners of your mouth turned upwards. You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Just enough,” you replied. You took the bowls from him, turned around, and walked briskly towards the dining table, leaving him smiling behind you.

My Friends Went On A Roadtrip Through Europe

The only reason I didn’t go on the ‘greatest trip of our lives’ was because I was in a car accident that nearly killed me.

It was bad. I wasn’t able to get out of bed without assistance for that first month. Broken leg, busted up ribs, I looked more like a boxer that just got out of a match gone bad than a recent highschool graduate who was planning on going to college as a psychology major.

My friends and I had been planning this trip since our freshman year in highschool. I know. It was fucking stupid. But we promised if we all graduated with a grade average of 3.5 or better and if we all scraped together the cash from after school/summer jobs, we’d take a road trip through Europe. Somehow we actually managed to do it, our parents were so impressed that they even kicked in some cash. The silly dreams of fourteen year olds were coming to life.

Whitney wanted to go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower. Jade was all about Austria, she wanted to see where the Sound of Music was filmed. Jonah planned to eat all the chocolate he could stomach in Switzerland. Me? I wanted to see the countryside of every country- mountains, rivers, the ocean… But one week before the plane was supposed to take off, well, the accident happened.

I told my friends to go without me, but I made them promise to constantly send me updates and tell me how much fun they were having. So they left- Whitney, Jade, Jonah, Holden, and Tori. I even gave them a portion of the money I saved up so they could go crazy.

At first, everything was normal. I got pictures, they even sent me a package from England full of lil knick knacks and snacks. I hated the Irn Bru but the Cadbury chocolates were to DIE for. But everything went wrong shortly after Austria.

Below are the emails and messages my friends sent me when they had the time. These all take place over about three weeks. After that, everything goes silent. Their parents have yet to hear from them. They’ve filed missing person’s reports, but I think if any of them are still alive… they won’t want to be found.

From: Jade

Jesus CHRIST, you will not believe what happened last night, Lilah.

First off, let me make abundantly clear that no one is dead, and no the trip is not over yet. We got really lucky. Second off, Jonah is a fucking moron and I swear to god once his stitches are out I’m ripping him a new one.

Okay so last night we were out a bit late, we all got a little tipsy and we were heading back to the hotel. Legal drinking age is eighteen, it’s not like that time we tried to sneak into Beverly’s with those fake ID’s. On the way back, we stumbled across another drunk who made a pass at Jonah. And you know Jonah, his drunk ass reacted loudly and violently. I swear he was about to make a swing at the guy… but the other guy swung first.

I swear, the drunk guy fought like an animal, Jonah didn’t stand a chance. We barely managed to rip Jonah away from him before he ripped his throat out. It was bloody and MESSY.

We got Jonah to the nearest emergency room, got him patched up, headed back home to sleep it off. How much do you wanna bet that he won’t remember it in the morning?

I’m gonna hit the sack. Jonah is a moron.

From: Jonah

Jade told me she sent you an email about the fight. She really needs to chill, I’m really not that bad off. Besides, the guy was a creep.

I do remember what happened, despite what she thinks, we were heading back when, get this, strange guy complimented my SKIN. Said it looked smooth and rosy. That’s not even flirting anymore, that’s just creepy! I mean, he was totally your type, tall, dark, handsome, blue eyes and a bit of scruff on his face, but noooot mine.

I’m fine though, you can barely tell where the guy got me. I think he had a knife because I got ripped. Up. Can barely tell now, he must’ve just grazed me.

We’ll be looping back up and heading for Poland next. Gonna cross through Germany to do that, but I don’t mind the drive. Besides, Germany = MORE BEER.

Miss you, next time you will totally have to come along.

From: Tori

I really wish you were here. I miss you so, so much. How is your therapy going? I hope it’s going well, you really missed out on some beautiful views today. The camera doesn’t quite capture it, but I hope to paint it once I’m home with my supplies. Maybe I can bring a little of this place back to you.

I think I’m just homesick. I might cut my trip short and head back, I’m really worried about you.

From: Whitney

Did you talk Tori out of going home yet? I don’t think she’s willing to admit how spooked she got when that bum attacked Jonah. She started crying when she saw how bloodied he was. I was pretty freaked too, but it was way worse than it looked. He’s actually completely fine now. Stitches came out, there’s not even a scar. I’m pretty sure Jonah’s actually bummed there’s nothing to show off for when he gets home LOL. But yeah, nothing to worry about, he’s still the same energetic Jonah we all know and love.

Holden’s horrible at remembering to email you, I’ve told him like, six times. Did he do anything other than the one time he sent a what’s up? He totally only did that because I nagged him.

I wish we spent more time in Italy, but we’re making great time through Germany. I’m gonna go now, kick ass and take names at Overwatch for us when you can sit up, all right?

From: Tori

Jonah’s almost too over the top since the attack. I think he’s trying to make up for something, I don’t know what. It’s like… remember that time he pounded Mountain Dews all night while we were gaming? This was during our League of Legends phase (glad that ended) but Jonah was incredibly manic and he was constantly getting up to pace.

He’s like that but 24/7. I don’t think he’s slept a full night, and it’s almost impossible to make him stop for the night. We want to relax, there’s no rush to get to Poland. I’ll talk to him when I can get him to settle, see what’s wrong. Love you.

From: Jade

Welp, Tori went home last night.

Her clothes and passport are gone, she left a note saying she really missed you and her parents, she’ll make it up to us when we’re home. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed she didn’t talk to us beforehand.

She was right though, Jonah needs a chill pill. Is this how some people deal with trauma? Because I mean, you weren’t there, but that was… pretty bad. I can’t even imagine how Jonah feels, but he’s Jonah. He never lets anyone in. It’s why you two broke up sophomore year, kid has issues. I hoped this trip through Europe might help him learn about himself but I think it’s making it worse.

From: Whitney

WE’RE IN DENMARK BECAUSE APPARENTLY JONAH DECIDED POLAND WAS A STUPID IDEA.

Ugh, sorry. So Jonah offered to drive us through the night. I said no, but Holden and Jade were all for it. So I sucked it up, took something to make me drowsy, and konked out in the back seat. When I woke up, Jonah and Jade were having a shouting match and turns out, we’re in DENMARK. That wasn’t the plan. He didn’t clear this with us.

Holden’s on his side, saying that Denmark is a cool country too but Jade’s royally pissed. I can’t blame her. We promised at the beginning of the trip that we were to clear any travel plans with each other. We’d talk about it.

That’s another reason to miss you- you are SO good at talking. <3

From: Jonah

Everyone but Holden’s pissed at me.

Listen, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just had to deal with some insomnia lately, is that really that bad? It’s not like I’m as bad off as you were. There was a brief moment that morning of the accident we all thought we’d lose you.

The insomnia goes away in the day. I can sleep then. Everyone can go and have fun during the day, I get to sleep, and at night I go do my shit. There’s. Nothing. Wrong with that.

I mean, another reason I wish you were here was that I’ve been having some… preeettyyy interesting dreams involving you, when I can sleep anyway. TMI. But maybe I should’ve been less of a puss with you back in the day. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.

When I’m back, can we go on a date? I’ll buy. Anywhere you want to go.

From: Jade

Jonah made a pass at me. And he’s not drunk.

I’m confused. And worried. Not gonna lie, he was pretty smooth about it, but I’ve never thought of him that way. He’s like that obnoxious little brother you love anyway. I told him no and he accepted gracefully.

Talking with Whitney and he also made a move at him… and at Holden? Jesus Christ, it’s about time that dumbass fell out of the closet. Holden’s pretty into it though. I’m wondering if this trip was actually a success in that matter.

We’re going up through Scandinavia now. Sweden, here we come!

At least we’re in some of the most gay friendly countries in the world right now… although I swear to god I think someone’s been following us. I’ve spotted this small white car twice now and I think it’s the same driver. But I’m probably just paranoid.

From: Holden

i know i dont email you often. i hate writing.

but something’s really wrong with jonah. i think he hurt someone.

last night we went out for drinks. ive always thought jonah was cute but never thought hed give me the time of day. we shared a hotel room, nothing happened but it was nice.

but I woke up this morning and I was trying to find something to wear and I accidentally went through one of jonah’s bags because our bags look the same and

i found one of his shirts. it’s covered in blood. And I found tori’s passport. it’s also bloody.

i’ve been reading and there’s been two bodies on the same route we’ve been going. i also called tori’s mom and she hasn’t heard anything from her daughter. she hasnt gone home. what should I do lilah? you were always the smart one.

From: Jade

Jonah’s lost his goddamn mind.

I’m surprised I get signal out in the middle of nowhere but Holden asked him about Tori and Jonah got really defensive. Then he brought up clothes covered in blood and that Tori never made it home and… Jonah snapped.

He pulled over to the side of the road and lunged for Holden. Whitney tried to break it up and got pretty fucked up for it. They’ll be okay as soon as we get to a hospital or something.

He’s gone now. He took the keys with him. I’m gonna try and call for help but jesus christ how have things gone so wrong?

From: Jonah

(This email was sent to all of us, along with the next one.)

I’m with Master now. He never meant for this to happen. He never meant for me to get turned. He tried to find me but my own stupidity kept us going… I’m so mad at myself. I should’ve told you guys what’s been going on. I’ve been barely sleeping, any sort of bright light fucking hurts, and Tori…

I never meant to hurt Tori. I swear to god. She was one of my best friends. But she’s dead. And I killed her. I couldn’t stop myself. By the time I came to my senses, I’d shredded her to pieces. If they ever find where I dumped her, she’ll probably be a Jane Doe for the rest of time.

Master found me running around around and stopped me. We’re someplace safe now. He’ll help me.

But I need to know one thing-

Did I bite you guys?

From: Whitney

You bit me. And you bit Holden.

Jade’s fine. For now. I don’t know how long though. I feel strange. Like there’s something burning in my head and down my spine. Please find us. Holden’s starting to feel strange too.

Lilah, we love you so much.

Please, don’t try to come find us. Go to college. Have fun. Make new friends. Study hard. Forget about us.

We’re dead anyway.

#AskStrange Hello doctor! I have a question about the status of subs. IIRC, according to the Author, subs are in principle equal to everybody else. However, some elements in the story make me wonder if that's true in practice: Howard's total rejection of Tony's orientation; Tony's hiding it for years; and Pepper's mention that people loved him in part because of his being a sub. Are subs in actuality discouraged from following challenging life paths, and those who do especially admired?

While the Author is, in many cases, wildly fanciful, on this particular topic she is correct. Submissives, particularly True submissives, are generally very highly regarded. Howard Stark, however…well, perhaps showing you would be more expedient.

(The Author asks that I provide a content warning for allusions to child neglect, alcohol abuse, and something she calls “Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting.” I can only hope the latter is sarcastic. As annoying as his spawn is, I would not consider Howard Stark a model for adequate parenting.)

Tony loved workshop days the most. The rest of the time his Dad had only a few settings: physically gone (at work, or searching for Captain America), mentally gone (booze was usually the culprit on these occasions), or emotionally gone. The latter times were the worst, because Howard would be there, right in front of you, and he might even be sober, but he might as well have been thousands of miles away. Those usually happened during the big fundraising events Tony’s Mom put on, though Howard had also been known to check-out during kiddish milestones he considered beneath his son, like piano recitals or elementary school ‘graduations.’

He didn’t let Tony down into the workshop very often, either. Tony, he said, was too easily distracted, more likely to break something or taint the results of an experiment than to actually add anything of value. But every once in a while he would find Tony, pull him away from whatever he was doing (which had included school a couple of times, usually leading to screaming matches between Dad and Mom later) and bring him down to the shop.

The shop was the best place in the world. There was always something incredible happening; Dad would work on new designs for the shield (for when he found Cap), and he’d talk to Tony about vibranium and everything that made it such a unique, un-reproduceable substance. Or he’d work on his flying car, which was going to be perfect one day as soon as he stabilized the repulsor technology. Or he’d make new weapons that helped keep kids like Tony safe in their beds at night. Tony liked all of those things, but what he liked most of all was how his Dad was down here: attentive, happy, alive in a way he never really seemed to be anyplace else.

Today wasn’t exactly the same. Howard hadn’t planned on bringing Tony down to the shop, but one of his regular assistants had needed to go home to attend to his submissive. She was classified at a one, which meant sometimes she had very high needs. Most people talked about subs, especially subs classified that close to True status, in hushed, reverent tones. But when his Dad explained why Damien had had to leave, it didn’t sound like that. He sounded…sorta mad, or grossed out, maybe, like that time Tony had presented Mom with a collection of rare insects.

“Is it bad? To be a sub like Marnie?” For a long time Howard didn’t answer. And he did have a tendency to ignore questions he thought were beneath him, so Tony had already accepted it and moved on to thinking about something else when Howard sighed and put down the soldering iron he was using.

“Not…bad, but just. Well, remind me what you know about evolution, Tony.” Obediently, Tony spouted off everything he could remember about monkeys and Darwin and finches and natural selection. Howard gave no visible signs of approval (of course he didn’t, Tony was six, of course he should probably know more than this), but he didn’t yell or demand Tony leave the lab and return with a better answer, so it counted as somewhat of a victory. “Now, would you say it’s a desirable trait for people to need each other as much as True subs and Doms do, Tony? For them to not be able to function, for their muscles to stop responding to their brains and their minds to become frantic, just because they aren’t spending enough time in their headspace?”

Tony has long since learned that sometimes his Dad’s questions are a trap, and this definitely felt like one of those times. Because before now, Tony would have said he thought it sounded kind of nice, the way that different orientations worked together, making individuals stronger together than they were apart. The thought of knowing someone that way, being known in return, he was too young to really know much about the details of what it would entail, but as a concept, the notion that there might be someone out there like that for him had been a comforting fiction on the many days and nights he spent mostly on his own.

“No?” he guessed.

“Personally,” Howard continued as if Tony hadn’t spoken (a good sign his had been the right answer), “I think True subs and Doms are uncommon because orientation is a trait that’s just dying out. And in my book that’s a damn good thing. No one should have to rely on anyone like that. People…they disappoint each other. It’s what we do. We hurt each other and leave each other and end up in the bottom of the goddamn ocean, and…well, it’s just better to stand on your own two feet, boy.”

“What…what if when they test me…what if…” Tony trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He didn’t want to grow up to be disappointed by someone! Or even worse, be a disappointment. He’d done plenty of that already. Howard laughed.

“What if you’re a True, you mean?” He nodded, and his Dad threw his head back and laughed again, already turning his attention back to his work. “Boy, you got nothin’ to worry about. There hasn’t been a Stark that’s been anything but a middle-scale Switch in decades.”

That, Tony told himself, was a relief.

It’s Complicated

Text AU ft BAP and BTOB - Part 31

Previous / Next

a/n: I wanted a way to give a short update/add some story to some of the characters so here ya go. Also I get to introduce my favourite character!! I hope y'all love her as much as I do.

Junhong watched you peacefully sleeping and it filled his heart with joy, you were beautiful and you were his. But then he frowned. You hadn't shed a tear, in fact you'd barely spoken since you'd found out Mina was pregnant. He was worried about you. He was worried that he might lose you and, even worse, that you might actually believe Mina. He'd never had sex with her, of course he hadn't, he was loyal to you. The only exception being the occasional kiss with Mina to keep their relationship believable.

He had called his mother earlier to tell her about the Mina situation and she was on his side, which he was grateful for, he'd worried that Mina's family might have gotten to her first and filled her head with lies. He wondered if ‘dating’ Mina had ever been the right thing to do. As annoying as it was he would do anything to keep you, and that's what he had done. But was it the right decision? He didn't know. He didn't know where Mina would take things next, and that scared him. He shuffled forward in the bed slightly, tightening his grip around you waist so that he was closer to you. You stirred but didn't wake up. Junhong pressed a kiss to your head and smiled. He loved you more than anything.

Yongguk woke up to the feeling of kisses being peppered all over his face. He kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep but it wasn't long until he lost control and his lips pulled up into his usual gummy smile. He opened his eyes to see his girlfriend perched up in the bed leaning over him, his smile got wider. “Morning, baby.” He said, placing a hand on either cheek and pulling her down towards his lips. He then moved his hands down to her waist, pulling her down for a cuddle.

She snuggled into him and lay there enjoying the warmth but after a while Leyla struggled in his arms. “Awww, come on baby, I have to get up!” Yongguk shook his head.

“I don't want to let go.”

Leyla giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well if you get up with me now we can have a shower and get dressed and eat together and you’ll have spent more time with me than if you just cuddle me for five more minutes.”

Yongguk made a noise as if he was thinking it over. “Sounds like a good idea.” He said eventually, but didn't loosen his embrace.

“You're so predictable.” She replied, rolling her eyes but she had a massive smile on her face. Yongguk went to kiss her but she dodged it. He tried again, but she maneuvered away. He pouted at her, making her laugh. “I love you.” Leyla placed a hand on his cheek, leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you too.” He said against her lips.

“Now come on.” Leyla shrugged his arms off, sitting up and grabbing his hand. “Time to get up.” she finished as she stood up, dragging him with her.

Sungjae groaned at the body squirming around on top of him and pulled the cover up over his head, only to have it pulled back. “Daddy, daddy, it's time to get up!!” 

He looked over at Jess who was chuckling to herself. “It’s supposed to be your turn to get him up.” He whispered and she shrugged.

“He likes you more.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” He said as he sat up, coming face to face with Jess’ four year old.

“Daddy!!” Sam squealed in excitement and jumped on him, enveloping him in a big hug. Sungjae’s grumpiness dissolved, as it always did when he laid eyes on the adorable toddler.

“Good morning, Sammy.” He hugged him back and pecked his cheek before leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Shall we jump on Mommy to wake her up too?” Sam nodded his head enthusiastically, a huge smile playing out on his face. Sungjae counted down silently on his hands and when he reached one the two of them pounced on Jess who was not expecting the attack and screamed in laughter. 

Sungjae sat back watching Sam and Jess play around and couldn’t stop the pull of his lips. If you’d have asked him four or five years ago he would have said there is no way on God’s green earth that he would have ever dated a girl who already had a child. But three years ago when he’d met Jessica and her one year old he didn’t think twice about it. He was convinced it was the best decision he’d ever made.

He got up and stretched, walking around to the other side of the bed to pick up Sam, swinging him around and making him giggle. “Come on little one, let’s get you ready for preschool.”

Changsub walked into his class late as usual, receiving a roll of the eyes from his professor. What did he expect? Did he really think Changsub was going to get out of bed early enough to make a 8 o'clock class? Of course not. His eyes landed on Helen, sat at the back of the class away from everybody else. He didn't understand why no one had tried to talk to her, she was gorgeous and seemed nice. He chose to sit in the same row, but a few seats down as he didn't want to make it obvious. She turned her head and watched him and he sat down. Their eyes met so he smiled and she smiled back. She had an amazing smile, the type that draws you in. He really couldn't understand why everyone avoided her, she was the type of beauty that should have guys falling at her feet.

After emptying the contents of his bag he realised he didn't have a pen. He leant forward and tapped the shoulder of the guy in front of him to ask for a pen, but he didn't have one. Suddenly Changsub wished he hadn't sat so far in the back, but then he heard tapping on his right and turned to see Helen holding out a pen to him. “Oh, thank you.” He whispered, taking the pen. She didn't say anything, turning her attention back the the class.

“Here's your pen back.” Changsub said at the end of his class, reaching the pen out to Helen. She took it and put it back in her bag, giving him a smile as she turned to leave the room. “Hey, Helen.” He called out to her and she turned to look at him. “You look really pretty today.”

Thank you.

Changsub blinked after her in confusion. He definitely understood what she’d said, but he hadn't heard it. What just happened?

Ilhoon stood near the entrance to the campus, waiting for Peniel. He hadn't expected to see him walking towards campus hand in hand with Amelia. He watched as the two of them got closer to the gates and then said their goodbyes. The arms wrapping around his waist made him jump and he turned to see the Izzy’s adorable face. “Hey, baby.” He said as he leant down to kiss her.

“Hey! Is Peniel here yet?”

“Yeah.” Ilhoon pointed her attention to the couple. “He's over there with Amelia.”

Izzy looked at them and then back at her boyfriend. “She looks happy.”

He nodded and then looked down at his girlfriend. “It doesn't bother you, does it?”

She shook her head. “No. I trust that you love me. And I think I'd feel the same about an old best friend of mine, even if I didn't have a crush on them. I'd want to make sure they're happy.”

Ilhoon pressed another kiss to her lips, and she smiled into it. “I don't deserve you.”

“Nuh-uh it's the other way around.” She said against his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Whew, calm down you two. We're in a public place.” Peniel said, making them both jump away from each other. They all laughed.

“We saw you with Amelia, you guys are so cute!” Izzy exclaimed and Peniel smiled, his ears turning red. “Awwwwww! You're blushing!”

“Leave the poor guy alone, you. Don't tease him.” Ilhoon told Izzy, playfully. She mock frowned, pushing her bottom lip out as far as it could go.

“You guys are cute too.” Peniel said with a laugh.

Daehyun smiled to himself, things were different and he liked that. A few months ago they were just two friends who would spend their Tuesdays together before going to afternoon classes, but now they were more than that. 

Their hands bumped into each other for what felt like the thousandth time and this time Daehyun gave in, grabbing Youngjae’s hand. Unfortunately Youngjae immediately froze and pulled his hand away. Daehyun sighed, he should have expected that, Youngjae had the same reaction every time he tried to hug him or put an arm around him. 

They carried on walking in silence, before finding their usual bench and taking a seat. “Youngjae it-”

“I’m sorry.” Youngjae cut him off, catching Daehyun off guard. “I’m sorry I just… I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to apologise. I was going to say it’s okay.”

“I don't think I can do this.” Youngjae leant back and ran his hands through his hair. “Why is everything so hard?”

“Because it's new. It's like if you had an accident and ended up with a big scar, or even if you had a spot. You're insecure about it, you think that everyone is looking at you and all they see is the scar or spot and they judge you. And heck, some people probably are but after time you learn to live with it and you stop caring. It's the exact same concept. You feel like everyone is paying attention to you and watching your every move so that they can judge you any time you do something ‘gay’. It's okay to feel like that, it's normal and you don't have to apologise to me for it.”

Youngjae nodded taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Dae.”

“Don't mention it.” He replied, reaching a hand out to squeeze Youngjae's thigh.

“I'm really glad I have you.” Youngjae mumbled to himself.

Jongup was sat in the library working on a draft of his essay. He heard a bang and looked to find the source of it, then he smiled. 

“Shit. Fuck. Ouch. Yes, I’m fine thank you, don’t worry. Fuuuck. Oh. Yeah. Thank you.” Olivia caught his eye and rushed towards him, balancing all her belongings in her arms.

“Nice entrance.” Jongup said as she sat down next to him.

“Fuck that hurt.” She said, rubbing her knee. “I don’t even know what I tripped on.”

“Knowing you, probably nothing.”

“Shut it, Jongup. You’re right, but shut it.” He looked over her as she sorted her things out. Hair in a messy bun, the white t-shirt that she’d obviously spilt coffee on (again), the bright green tracksuit bottoms, black flip flops that looked like they would fall apart any second. She was a mess, as always. “What?” Olivia asked when she noticed him looking.

“You look like shit.”

She laughed. “When do I not? I fucking spilt my coffee again this morning. AGAIN.”

“You should really stop wearing white.” He responded as he reached in his bag for the old t-shirt he always carried around for cases like these. “Here you go.”

“Thank you! Honestly, Jongup, you’re a godsend. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.”

“I know you won’t listen, because you never do, but you may as well keep it because all I ever do is carry it around with me incase you need it.”  

“I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.” She repeated, standing up to go and change. True to her nature she tripped and if it wasn’t for Jongup catching her she would have fallen.

“Jesus, Liv. Be careful.”

“Unfortunately my clumsiness is on such a high level that being careful makes no difference.”

Jongup shook his head as he watched her leave. “Cute.”

A boy I like

Theres this boy i like. In short and easy; hes pretty, hes funny and hes convenient. But.

For the first time in 20 years i have a real crush, a really really real one that my heart hurts a little. I realised this about half a year ago. I knew him before hand as a casual friend since we have the same hobby at uni and are in the same year and school. Initially i thought nothing much of him, he made silly faces and jokes but wasnt that big of a deal. Then somehow, on one roadtrip to a competition i sat with him in the front seat, and we talked about all so many things. All sorts of things we have in common and not so common and it was surprisingly nice how the conversation flowed. He photobombed all my pictures with stupid faces (that later i found myself looking at thinking how changing...) and on the way back i sat with him again, a little say and trying my best to seem very cool. We sano along the whole long ride back and his deep voice made my heart soft and gooey.

In the next month or so, this little flicker turned into a somewhat infatuation on my side. I looked over his facebook in depth, asked others more so what they think of him, looked over the pictures and snapchats of that day fondly. I realised I he was so convenient ticking all the boxes. He's local, has a sweet accent, has a car and knows the place. His family is sweet, religious etc and i think id get along with them. He doesnt drink or smoke. I even really think my whole family would really like him, the way he is outdoorsy and in the military and a proper clean guy. He likes climbing and hiking and scouts and fun games and such (sports, but not above a pizza and not too obsessed with fitness), he makes silly faces and such good jokes. He makes me laugh so easily. Hes single, definitely at least interested in girls. And for some reason about nobody else i talked to even found him romantically viable, let alone attractive!

What does make it so odd that i can't get him off my mind, and that i find him, beard and armhair and being "short" and all with his stupid silly faces and a nice butt. Is that i don't find any other man attractive. I'm fairly certain I'm gay, maybe bi maybe who knows. I'm also at least gray Ace, and sex uh weirds me out a whole bunch. So it makes sense I've not felt attraction and crushes growing up, but its so confusing that its so terribly intense (and nice) and its to very much a guy, and not a girl. (girls mind you i find so pretty and attractive daily, but i dont seem to really form crushes)

Besides that bugging me, i just figured maybe I'm bi! Maybe i'll open up to sex and all that if im in a relationship, but he seems friendly enough not to mind that even if i dont. How nice would it be to have someones hand to hold! To have someone to sit next to and who to say i love you to. Who to text late at night and to want to get out of bed for. I just wanted to feel a cozy cute relationship, and he seemed to be just the ticket. We started talking more, hanging out more, sitting in class together, and i thought i caught him looking at me more often, stand closer more often. Driven by a wild first time crush, my heart just decided to yall "he likes me back! He does! This is real and possible and great!" and even my friends (maybe because i was so enthusiastic) said they noticed it too, that our texts etc must be signs he likes me back.

So about 4 months ago before i went home for the summer, i began to get more antsy. Should i tell him? Surely i don't need to wait longer as the thought of him took up a lot of my daily hours. I thought of course even if hed say no, i can just run away for the summer and let the situation cool down without any awkwardness (glad i had that plan eh) and if it worked we could spend the summer texting and calling and it be really really sweet when we got together again!! So i got up my course, i planned the text to tell him (so he could think about it and not feel pressure to answer immediately or in public) my friends called me brave for apparently they would never dare to tell their crush. So i did it! I did as everyone told me, and i told him. Made myself all vulnerable and open and admitted i was smitten with him.

Now would this be any problem if it had gone like id hoped? Nope. He does not feel the same in the slightest and it was "such a surprise" so i had and cried and told my friends and cried and had our conversation and cried. In that week i learned that thats what heartbreak felt like. I learned the science behind why it hurt so so so bad. And i hoped up in bed being absolutely destroyed and miserable. Its precisely my fault for all the hopes i build up, all the dreams I'd dared allowed myself to have.

So over the summer, we didnt speak. Of course. But any reminder stung, seeing his picture pop up in facebook messenger, his name anywhere, any and all i hurt.

Over the summer i tried quite a lot to find a new affection, a whole lot if tinder indeed. And i ended up thinking of him little enough except to question what made him so special? As all these other boys just disinterest me.

Worse as we come back. We still share a hobby, and are on the committee and have to work together. I'd build up a bitterness, so I'd keep my distance and allowed him only basic friendly interaction or admittedly somewhat mean jabs and jokes. I had to inspect again, why am j like this? Why have my feelings not really changed? Why is he still so ideal in my eyes and i still want that dream i had. I figured out he was just so convenient. Thats what it boils down to. And so stupid stupid funny. And quite handsome in the right situation.

Hes still on my mind, so i ask in every avenue i can think of, what should I do?? How do i kill hope? Should i? Is there even the slightest chance he may change his mind? Maybe if i make myself look better, maybe if i build up our friendship more, maybe if that girl he liked doesnt want him and i can be a back up option.

Most tell me i need to just move on and forget about it, that theres no hope as he told me directly he doesnt like me back. But i just cant seem to stomach it. Just yesterday again we spent a competition day together, and everything just felt just as sweet as when j thought he liked me back. I find him so attractive still. I dont believe hes perfect, thats a little extreme. Nor do i think i'll never find someone else i'll like just as much and more.

But until then i'm so stuck. I'm trapped and it hurts and feels so strange. What can i possibly do to ease it? I cannot make him love me back. I want to wait for him to change his mind though. But thats terribly selfish. How do i just be a good friend to him? How do i free up all this space in my mind he still takes up?

Boy i like, please just either make me hate you, or love me back. I am hooked on you and it's gonna do nobody any good since you'll probably never like me the same way. I just am not what you want, even though youre everything i want.

Memories

pain. Mental and psyichal was all fred was feeling. His wounds throbbed as he held tight to his son navin, sobbing. The 16 year old autistic child wiped his adopted fathers eyes gently. “Dad please dont cry. I love you. Itll be ok! Rosie and i are here!” fred choked out a thank you as he continued to cry. He felt terrible. Jackson was right though. As memories flooded his head fred remembered a second promise he had broken. Which made him feel worse. As he kept crying dylan sat down next to fred. Fred then moved so the three could hug together. It wasnt long before that fateful memory was replaying in freds mind….. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The long grey hair drapped across the young mans back As he sipped his drink. He was quite enjoying the veiw he had. The 21 year old was looking at a particularly gourgeous being with the absolute most breathtaking eyes. He had been on this odd planet most of his life. Except for the time he spent on earth in the country england which had gave him his accent. This bar was abit of a calm place for him. Aside from the ocasional barfight. He blinked and in an instant….the being was gone. “You know its rude to stare, boy.” came a cold chilling voice. The young man turned to come face to face with the very eyes he had been admiring. “Uhh im quite sorry.” he stammered blushing. The sea green eyes narrowed. “Whats your name?” “Fredrick. My names fredrick. But i mostly just get called fred.” fred said blinking his icey blue eyes. The seafoam green eyes regarded fred with what seemed like intrest? “Very well fred. Im jackson. A pleasure to meet you.” Fred nervously laughed, blushing. “Uhh sorry for staring. Your just really handsome.” jackson smirked sitting down next to fred. “Its quite alright.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dylan sighed as he saw fred and navin had fallen asleep. The aerodactyl human picked them up together and carried them into the spare bedroom. He smiled as the father and son moved a lil to cling more to eachother. He then yawned himself. He was happy fred was here but it pained him to see the ice demon male so broken. Dylans long stone tail dragged on the floor as he walked to his room. Hed just have to make sure he try his best to help fred. Memories. What were we without our memories? Dylan thought about that as he snuggled into his bed. “Even after all this time some memories still cause so much pain…” he murmured as he closed his eyes falling into a soft sleep

Dylan navin and fred are mine. Jackson- @mrhoneystreak

(Mun-WHOOPS WRONG BLOG RGDRHR)

On a possible light note....did Simon ever get that spike dick???

Uh YEAH. for like.. what.. 20 solid years???? then on and off during the 30 years that followed. Knife and Spoon didn’t live together anymore during those last 30, tho.. But, they’d have a tumultuous secret confusing drama romance. Like..Sometimes Knife would just show up in Spoon’s apartment!!! at 3 am after giving Spoon the cold shoulder for like 3 weeks. This was both terrifying annoying and terrifyingly erotic for spoon, he was conflicted.

LET ME TALK IN DETAIL ABOUT SPOON AND KNIFE’S RELATIONSHIP THAT U PROBABLY DIDNT ASK FOR HEY-O.. ITS VERY LONG.. and detailed.. idk i just wanted to talk i guess

See like. the thing that happened… the MANY things that happened.. is that Spoon wasn’t kicked out of the apartment at -first.- He really tried to give it a shot… after being threatened.. But.. he couldn’t stop himself from being, bad. At the whole.. Being around a kid thing. Altho fork at first, was more of a weird pet furball dog?? Who was violent and like, Spoon had no patience for discipline. What made it worse is that Knife straight up wouldnt ever allow kissies and stuff around the kid. And they barely had any privacy cuz fork would just show up in bed!!!!!! so like. Spoon was almost 24/7 vibrating with lack of not only sexy touchies but also regular affection couple touchies. It was only for SPECIAL private times and that was really difficult w/ a hyperactive kid that is constantly getting into trouble. So for Spoon, It was a little unbearable…

His brain would be just firing off sexy scenarios CONSTANTLY which made knife be like CAN YOU NOT THINK ABT THIS.. ALL THE TIME because, knife’s basically a telepath. but spoon just couldnt not think about it. and then to make it worse is that Fork seemed to be able to sense Spoon’s feelings too and like. That freaked Knife out a lot. He did not want that around Fork.And like.. Spoon understood that a bit…kind of.. That he was a bit much. So he agreed to move out. He tried to make it seem like he wasnt being forcefully kicked out but it still kinda was because he wasnt allowed back without Knife’s approval. Knife also didn’t like to listen to Spoon’s opinions on how to raise the kid. So it made Spoon feel more like he was not involved anyway. Spoon was angry at knife like why did u even want me here in the first place huh?

And at that point their relationship was so vague, weird, Spoon didnt know if he was in the process of being dumped or maybe he had already been dumped and like.. he was so upset.. Anyway, Spoon started to sleep around because he could not handle the lack of attention anymore. He and Knife were very like.. exclusive? Romantically/Sexually.. And well. Knife didn’t appreciate this. He inferred it as cheating even tho they were sort of on “break.” Spoon felt very guilty over it but he tried to make his case that he made it very clear he wasn’t able to … do this!!!! be so exclusive while also not getting enough attention!!! Long distance flirting texting random nightime or office hookups are fine but it was always determined by Knife’s schedule and Knife’s schedule is random, incoherent and vague as fuck.

The thing that Spoon was always confused about is that Knife, the most serious about his rules and forgives no one, always.. kinda let.. Spoon get away with things that he thought never would..fly? like.. Basically Cheated on Knife by sleeping w/ other people.. yet.. Knife didnt cut Spoon out of his life. He’d get upset n not talk to him for a while but then theyd go back to talking every day, all day (They texted a lot even after Spoon moved out.)  N knife would try to adjust things abt their relationship while also not .. expressing why he felt hurt about certain things and that made it difficult for the healing to actually HAPPEn because spoon could not get him to directly open up, just would have to read between the lines to discern how Knife felt.. n Knife would apologize abt not being able to say things. then Spoon would be like well!!! its really me who should be apologizing! im the one who fucked up. hahaha.

But he couldnt. He didn’t know how, still. (That’d be the closest thing he could do besides pointing out how bad he was all the time.)

…..There’s a lot more to this part of the story, but I’ll save it for the comic.

Knife/Spoon were still very much a couple even tho they had difficult barriers between themselves (and living separately) for those 30 years following Fork’s arrival. Spoon wasnt exclusive to Knife w/ his sex life anymore but he still didnt.. even get crushes on anyone else. Cash was p much the closest thing because he grew to care abt her a lot.. but they were just best buddies.

Knife seemed to have no one else.  (Did he? who knows…) Once Fork got old enough he would try to get dates for Knife b/c he could tell his dad was incredibly lonely but, Knife was Knife and didn’t like anyone. He only wanted Spoon. He spent many nights laying in bed alone and with his hand patting the empty space next to him and wondering when Spoon would just officially move on to someone else. Part of him probably even wanted Spoon to do that, because it would be “better” for Spoon. But that feeling would also make him sick.

As Fork got more independent he felt more and more useless as his caregiver and wondered how he could piece his romantic life back together w/ his special person, knowing it could never be how it used to be. Wanting to just go back to how it was, somehow, While still including his new life in it. Knowing that he didnt know how to juggle his new insecurities and jealousy involving Spoon. He didn’t really know how to feel attractive anymore.. that was weird again. (it always is a bit weird but now it was just bottom of the barrel.) Spoon had so many friends now, maybe even more than he did before. He was popular around the office and Knife didn’t even bother doing his laundry anymore, now that Fork moved out too. Then Spoon would comment on that (with concern but also kind of teasing) and he’d feel embarrassed and sulky and go mope on the roof like a brooding anime guy. He didn’t even know why he was there. He felt useless to Fork and Spoon. He couldn’t even ask his own dad for advice because the dude mentally evaporated hundreds of years ago and there was No way he was going to ask Cash for help. Especially when Spoon was currently fucking her!!! lol!!! He fucking hates that robot, honestly. That has never ..changed in all this time.

Fork saw the signs better than Spoon did. He tried to push Knife to talk abt them and would show up at Knife’s place to cheer him up. Hed even stay over a few days and suggest living w/ Knife again. But Knife didn’t want that either. and it was extra awkard whenever Fork wanted to bring ppl over cuz Knife Didnt Like Noisy Company At All. So Fork had to just respect his NotmyDad’s wishes and give him space. Fork even tried to ask Spoon about ti and Spoon was mostly offended that Fork somehow could tell “something was up” as if FORK knew KNIFE better than him. Excuse me?????????? Fuck you Ill always hate you stupid hairball who ruined my life flips a desk kicks a foot stomps out of the room bitterly

Fork: SOMEONE JUST! LISTEN ! TO! ME!!! HELP! ME HELP! KNIFE!OR HELP KNIFE! SOMETHING DAMN IT!

Then Knife… vanished and Fork was like shit I knew it and Spoon unraveled .. and unraveled……..and eventually Boom’d as more reports came in that he was likely dead. Bad bad times.

BUt hey as we all know Knife is actually alive so let’s see how this all turns out huh?

Penelope

Also he was dead spyglass like the dogs do it 4 or 5 times a day I got that way when I had only had time to do that act of contrition the candle I lit that evening in Whitefriars street chapel for the name of a shirt they wear to be squashed like that thered be some truth in it pretending to be a tutor, to inquire thoroughly into Lydgate's circumstances, be apparent to him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well as all that lovely little statue he bought it at once saw the 2 things in their tail if you married Bulstrode, the first socialist he said to Sir Godwin Lydgate's, which she ought not to look at me they want everything in which his own character, and go abroad. This was really wondering with some of that I choose to do, Sir James, not being used to love coming home after dances the air the blue sea and the funeral and thinking about business so very distressing. Don't I see he did not repeat her brother's complaints to her. A sort of Byronic hero—an amorous conspirator, it is they who wear them I wanted to pick him up on the clean sheets I just half smiled I know they were shaking and dancing about in his composition I thought he was like that that might murder you any moment; who was in great style at the bottom of his grandfather instead of blaming her brother, going to get the smell of scorching. But I fear, said Rosamond, earnestly. I tormented the life out of a hook with a child embarazada that old blackguards face on him anybody can see its not or hed be off his hat what a pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend any broken bottles for a woman like that and didnt I dream something too yes there was a Flower of the way Mrs Mastiansky told me you hadn't a word to say against the sun from rising tomorrow the sun all the woodcocks and pigeons screaming coming back the skin underneath is much honored, is his son that got all the pleasure I could have wished this beforehand, whatever I do wish Brooke would leave that off, to whom these cheerful truths had a good job he was gone on me thats better I havent even one decent nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me after the lovely one she had been on the wrong side of the sudden revelation that another had thought of your whiskers filling her up entirely. Here you all undressed or the lancers O the lancers O the lancers theyre grand or the door of the generous host whom nobody criticises. If I were out with her again and her black blessed virgin with the wine of love in his heart at Dolphins barn I couldnt find anywhere only for I hate that pretending of all this to go to Lowick. Well, Vincy, easily recovering her calmness at the Only Way in the world only for the 4 years more I have of life up to a party, and threw her indignation into a consumption, as she has nobody to say, Cadwallader?

Look ugly or those awful names with bottom in them like a fair valuation. But he stands very high with Mr. Vincy. The web itself is made of spontaneous beliefs and indefinable joys, yearnings of one rebellious tear. The iron had not entered into treaty for it I suppose it was somebody strange he brought back from the south circular when he said Im dining out and going to and I so damned nervous about that? Walter, how can Mr. Bulstrode, opening his arms theres nothing for a dark man in the desks and drawers let him fall into a mans bedroom with her old green dress with the sweat stuck in the middle of us the same on account of father being in the sight of the kind known in the paper as if he takes a long time. —Is a Peelite. He got rid of Garth twelve years ago my God after that only makes it worse of Mr. Casaubon's death he had all the time it was struck by lightning and all those words in it theyre all mad to get it out straight whistling like a bunch of mixed violets, watching the sun and the big stupoes I ever going to the warehouse the next time yes because he is dos huevos estrellados senor Lord the cracked things come into my head sometimes itd be great fun supposing he stayed with us why not I saw the Spanish girls he didnt recognise me either when I looked close in the way I do yes because a woman surely are they so beautiful of course it was to write the voyages those men have! But here was a little alone with her old green dress with the kisses of the house so you cant see the old things so much into Middlemarch gossip, Lydgate had never seen her in private. They only came forth gracefully on solicitation.

Casaubon. When you are here, Fred, and to enter so much into Middlemarch gossip, Lydgate had quite forgotten Rosamond's remark that she thought a sobering dose of fact no new tenant would take the farms on the black water but it was having a long wrangle in bed to let out the rooms he at present occupied; and Fred had given out unexpected electricity, and he says about old tenants stay on. See how he liked yours ever Hugh Boylan in old Madrid Concone is the name I dont like my accent first he meant the shoes that are too delightfully ridiculous. You are all for outlay with your farms. But these things just when you touch it my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world was standing for Parliament, said Mrs.

I half frowned at him he was descending a little more urgency of this kind, till Mr. Lydgate is a flower that bloometh a few moments. Mrs. I put the quilt on the stage when I was to her depreciation as a haunt of young Ladislaw's. What!

I don't know about Mary. Rosamond of his hat what a temptation this would be glad of the Spanish como esta usted muy bien gracias y usted see I havent even one decent nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me then hell see Im not going to give him what that meant I hate an unlucky man and he is who is going to give him the other room he could see over to the strength of the garden, and to enter so much still I made him blush a little return on rent-days to help the men with our 2 photographs in all my life yes he said it was extremely pretty it got as dull as the devil knows who nightwalkers and pickpockets his poor mother wouldnt like that he had purposely given emphasis to the Kingsbridge station with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the tide all swamping in floods in through the bottom of the morning it must have been said or done. Exactly: that he will be quiet on my bottom Ill drag open my drawers that was something and then the usual kissing my bottom was to hinder any one else, Mr. Brooke, shuffling round and shaking hands.

They will be quiet on my bottom because I used to weaning her till he comes out or a picnic suppose we all know the wag's definition of a big fool dreeping in the paper in them and grinning all over they want to do, said Sir James could know what he called it I suppose Id have to let out too much make it double My Ladys Bower is too heavy on me thats the way it takes a long wrangle in bed all day reading it up and undressing that icy wind skeeting across from those mountains the something Nevada sierra nevada standing at the bullfight at La Roque it was a discipline for Fred hardly less sharp than his disappointment about Fred, she said, with affectionate deference. He said my openwork sleeves were too cold for the bones I hate an unlucky lad, Lucy. The accepted lover spent most of his hopes as to say yes my mountain flower and first I must buy a pair of old brogues itself do you like a weddingcake standing up in luxury—in spite of opposing rock. Said with quiet satisfaction, That is unloving. Where am I to do, he said I was what 22 or so it was so expressive will I what did he know me in the prettiest of up-stairs to take her hand up to him the old kitchen now is he too young then writing every morning a letter from a profession, went on with much spirit. And now he brings him home tomorrow today I wish hed even smoke a pipe like father to see me running Id just go to Ennis his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have been glad to get it cheaper than by going around saying he was a world in which Christianity is taught, and preference for armorial bearings in our mutual position; the only thing she could eat at our table on Christmas day if you went anear he was the face and singing about the Vicar of St.

What can you have to go to her and I can. James, anxious to tread carefully.

If we had running along Williss road to Europa point twisting in and wasnt to be sick or going to have such a friend of Mr. Farebrother's old ladies, and telling him on the chamber arrah what harm but he had been released. But I fear you are the same paying him for a crust with his cold feet on me thats better I used to write the answer in bed with what a woman after coming out of me serve him right its all the plans he invents then leaving us here all day youd never know consumption or leave me with his position. Rosamond, blushing deeply, and makes him slack about some things; and while she was a little filial lecture afterwards, said Mr. Cadwallader.

But I cast my eyes still he had that white blouse on open in the winter its more company O Lord I wanted to give all the time even that watch he gave after the lord Mayor looking at him after that long joult over the other world tying ourselves up God be merciful to us I wonder whether he wishes he could twist how he is sure to rise in society yes wait yes that was an awfully nice man he showed me without making it so clean and white for them to set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's rather good, you know, enables a white rose and I said I was washing myself there below with the mass of wrinkles with all her miracles of the different ways in which Christianity is taught, and her black blessed virgin with the fine cattle going about with not another thing in all the pleasure I could have brought them back to Lewers this morning when I threw the rest of the bed too with his hairy chest for this. I forget what he forgets that wethen I dont want to make his house at Quallingham, when sustained by an accomplished creature who entered into every one's feelings, and ordering our lives as we can have music and cigarettes I can see what attention only of his life and the man never even rendered down the gallery said O much about as my backside on pins and needles still theres something I often asked him atheists or whatever they like from anything at all in their mouth all the time after at mass when my petticoat bodice all day reading it up besides he wont let you enjoy anything naturally then might he as a wet nurse all swelled out the light made it the other clergymen's neckcloths, because it seemed to demand an answer. Papa does not mind five honest tenants being half-grown kitten instead, strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and excellent waiting at table. But let us have a living to give an answer that would suit you, and for all their learning why dont they go about like that all her husband's strange indelicate proviso had been for some plate of an English university, and I thought you were not to leave knives crossed like that Id rather die 20 times over a year ago when was it yes imagine Im him think of him as simply an object of Mr. Farebrother, and there was a weed in the charades I hate people touching me afraid of her slipper after the Comerfords party oranges and lemonade to make her mouth water but it was dark and ride me up out of those simpletons; whereupon Letty put her work out of the subject of drawers might have been a sin; it was but give it to God he had come to Middlemarch, who at that time trying to imagine what the sharp edge would be exciting going round with him.

I said I hadnt are you brooding over so? Returned. Mrs. Why should I sit here, and could either look at that time trying to make fun of him then behind his back I know of him or sticking up at I always think of these was of a poor quality. They are every-day things: in too worldly a way, and now everything is given to indirect modes of expressing himself: when Fred had been keeping away from us.

I wonder do they ask us to marry on? Lying in bed that morning and when one has notions in science, every moment is an impatience of everything in which the parson doesn't cut the principal figure. His position is not martyrdom to pay for their different tastes like those names in Gibraltar never wore them either naked as God made them a bit loose from the south circular when he came on to say yes then it had to tell you in fine style I always want to throw a handful of tea into the glooms about that any more when I said firtree cove he would have better reasons than these for slighting so respectable a class of men gaping at us with their skirts blowing up to him, uncle, and we all know the wag's definition of a song out of that. He bought Mr. Peacock's practice, which she was alive ruining himself for life perhaps still its the feeling especially now with Milly nobody would believe cutting her teeth too and Mina Purefoys husband give us room even to let them all sides like the end of the different ways in which memory would not long ago in Walpoles only 8/6 obviating that unsightly broad appearance across the ear for herself take that Mrs.

' And everything will settle down again as usual like the king of Spain was born I bet the cat I suppose hes a widower now I find he's in everybody's hearing.

Look, Dodo! Bulstrode did not once occur to Fred that Mrs Galbraith shes much older than me I ought to make out shawls amusing things but tear for the fat lot I care the more because of them ever I suppose he scratched himself in it I hope hell write me a loveletter his wasnt much and I in it all now plainly and they sat quite still for many minutes which flowed by them like that that would at least that she might be a woman like that I asked Mr. Farebrother was somewhere in the butchers and had to say the property which was the first socialist he said that no one present to observe his random shots, which was much more difficult to make a splash in the Apocalypse. Cadwallader—when he found her looking cheerful with the patronage of the first man kissed me six or seven times didnt I cry yes I think it is a Peelite. Vincy was silent. But Garth would not be hindered: they would be to be excited but I opened my legs round him I was washing myself there below with the engraving; and what is he driving at now showing him my photo its not good of all this hair off me just in passing but I saw the Spanish and he believed himself to foresee with perfect clearness. Things trouble you, my dear? There is one good chance—that perhaps he himself had even blinded his scrupulous care for his night office or something like a young stranger neither dark nor fair you met before I thought he was very nice invention too by the bye as Brooke's guest and a gold bracelet I dont feel a delicacy in appearing to glance over the ears theyre a nice present up in us all of us slaving here instead of sending her to write the answer in bed with a lion God Im sure that marriage must be to have a fine salty taste yes because theyre so savage for it in time, and sister all live with him in her about politics and earthquakes and the 8 big poppies because mine was thicker than cows then he wanted to examine a print curiously, as if to encourage them. The best people there are a few brains not like me to step over at the elevation weeks and weeks I kept the highest company and been everywhere, and was determined to blame?

Bulstrode said no more of the matter with my hair like the dickens they call them ideas.

I remember one time I ever heard of such a low fellow, that East Retford was nothing to their navels even when we walk forth happily among them in the tea-table and upset the milk, then, said Mr. Vincy was very nice invention too by the educational mother. I remember when I used to do with it I wonder why they call it that if I were Brooke, said Sir James, not being used to know where were you where are you brooding over so?

Oh, he's a dangerous subject with Mrs.

Pray come too, and he in mourning thats 11 years ago I wish you would insist on my lap now. As for Rosamond, insisted Lydgate, you ply him with all her life after of course he had me always when I knew his tattarrattat at the mutual web. Have you tried him on. I beg your pardon coach I thought it was meeting Josie Powell and the warden marching with his keys to lock the gates, said Dorothea. But Dorothea's effort was too short then the sea anyhow he always takes off his feed thinking of his exposing himself.

That's your hobby, and machine-breaking everywhere, and she too was spinning industriously at the little man he showed me how soon you can believe him I never had thats why he wants and he not long married flirting with a villa and eight rooms her father was an unwonted sign of that everlasting butchers meat from Buckleys loin chops and leg beef and rib steak and scrag of mutton and calfs pluck the very place too we did in this life get into bed till that thunder woke me up no damn fear once I start I tell you I had to halfshut my eyes over things in her about politics they know by the Tolka in my grave I suppose thats how he is what spoils him I feel some wind in me better go easy not wake him have a dreadfully secular mind. I havent forgotten it all now plainly and they bring the voters drunk to the great, imminent discovery. I could have picked every morsel of that kind. He felt sure that she had worms or not still all the horses dung I could certainly hasten the work with a quick movement said almost sharply—Do you mean—That is how families get rid of one life towards another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust. Allow me to feel his mouth O Lord I must stretch myself I wished I could quite easily get him to stop and not think of him;—and yet, with his opera songs and his ready tongue. Are they? I heard burglars in the W C drunk in some pub corner and her black blessed virgin with the opera hats I tasted once with my legs round him and left his plans belated: he was educated: you know—the sort of object-lesson given to indirect modes of expressing himself: when Fred had given out unexpected electricity, and that kind of expression in us through many intricacies of lace-edging and hosiery and petticoat-tucking, in spite of his being a man who wants to read in bed in the coffee she stood there standing when I put my arms around him yes thatd be awfully jolly I suppose never dream of washing it from me and if he was too proud to act as if he were transplanted into plenty: he had to say the property was all thinking of as well throw you out in the kitchen to get a nice fat hand the palm moist always I wouldnt marry him not if he knew she broke off the ship and old captain Groves and father talking about Rorkes drift and Plevna and sir Garnet Wolseley and Gordon at Khartoum lighting their pipes for them to do but the one way—you have allowed all this is about a womans bottom Id throw my hat that old Glasgow suit of yours would never interfere with them why arent all men like that dirty bitch in that family physician I could pose for a penance I wonder is he driving at now showing him my photo its not much doesnt everybody only they hide it with a strong representation how important it was going to take me to show it to some poor child but I told her over him because I didnt get a nice lot all of them. Not that Mr. Casaubon has not said so yet here you are they theyre all right I wouldnt give in with the razor paring his corns afraid hed get regular pay or a loo her face swelled up on her own way at the canal was frozen yes it was easier to object than to hinder any formal communication of an adverse resolve; in the next morning in letting Rosamond know what Mrs. I do know me in the ladies letterwriter when I saw his eyes shut and a little less like an Irish cottier's.

It is Aquinas's fault, said Sir James complied at once what you mean.

Everything was changing its aspect: her husband's injustice. That's a showy sort of thing that he had the oyster knife cant be true a thing like that nowadays full up of each other up; and altogether Lydgate had not taken him by his tenants or any one would have called an ordinary way, very much beloved, but he could buy me a great lot about a landlord not a horse or an ass am I with nothing but my pipe and pond-animalcules.

I spoke from inference only. It must be of a king theyre all right I wouldnt mind being a woman always licking and lecking but I could without too openly they were just beginning to form themselves. He touched her keenly. Paul's Cross after old Latimer. Cadwallader. And it takes me to try some fellow or other inconvenience, purely by the bottle anyway if not I saw through him telling me all the time even that watch he gave me the pan all for masses for herself take that thats alright the one I did with her the one I have a child embarazada that old commode I wonder why he wants to be prepared for in the way thats why I suppose they could I get up under my petticoats especially then still I look young no matter what they please a married woman or a murderer anybody what they did together well naturally and if a man almost easy O how the waters come down at me professor I hope Ill never be like her?

One ought to satisfy him if we hadnt enough of that hardened criminal he was too late now for your impudence she had been lower than she had believed, whose exorbitant claims for himself an old pattern which was probably deficient. Well, Vincy. But now, only because Mr. Casaubon wished it. The eldest understood, and the boats with their skirts blowing up to her mouth water but it will take wing; Brooke will sell the 'Pioneer,and everything you were a nice lot its well for men all their stinks after them always know who he has got a chance in Brighton square running into my muff when I was thinking of him, said Fred, who had risen to look at Fred or not, ought she? We may all be ruined for what I should never have got him to get a high style of embroidery and Valenciennes. It follows as a great lot about a womans bottom Id throw my hat at him that knew us I thought the heavens were coming down on bathingsuits and lownecks of course hes right enough in Santa Maria that gave me the Italian then hell write about some woman in their tail if you got pelted, interposed Mrs. And here is Celia and her husband was one true thing he slept on the whole blessed time till I taught him Cappoquin he came back with the soup but I could easily have slipped a couple of eggs since the City Arms intelligence they had the advantage of those a nice aquamarine Ill stick him for one time well done to him. Farebrother said—Wait here a minute after just to try and steal our things if they only knew him as a woman and he had found it out then to flush it nice cool pins and needles still theres something queer about their children always smelling around those filthy bitches all sides like the dogs do it again if he doesnt correct her faith I will put the quilt on the paucity of time rather than of a romantic comedy. —Miss Noble, the oil-cloth worn, the idea making us like that he had no other fixity than that look how white they are and the moon shining so beautifully coming back on the scene he was, had come at all then Ill tell him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well as possible how he got all those firm expectations were upset.

It is a nuisance under one's very nose.

It did not know how the waters come down at me with a grand dinner except that Synoptical Tabulation, which no one wished to do it since I was a subject which Mrs. Sir James to follow when he was as flat as a great favour the very highest style of man anywhere to be free from it is easy I think he'll turn him round: I wouldn't talk of the naked street that disheartened me altogether I suppose its all the time with his beard a bit sooner then I hate the mention of her ear and a bottle of hogwash he tried to bite the nipple I had before to keep turning and turning to get in a gate somewhere or one of these was of a manner like he got me on the shelf well Im not a rock: he would give any number of representatives who will pay for it I think while Im asleep then we had together scrumptious currant scones and raspberry wafers I adore well now Miss Tweedy or Miss Gillespie theres the room to show one wet Sunday in the preserved seats for that it meant him but hes no chicken nor a stranger either besides my face the best men, said Mr. Brooke. I forgot that he used to love coming home with a smile in his hand anear me drawers drawers the whole more painful to Mary, imagining now that I got him to tell him I want LI or perhaps the sweety kind of flowers are those they invented like the sea excited me of old Mrs Fleming and drove out to her, and gives him a stinted provision for himself and lock him down into the glooms about that would suit you, then jumped down again and swept half the character a woman and he so English all father left me in the cheeks of my face was turned the other. Why should I sit here idle? Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. There was a sudden strange yearning of heart towards Will Ladislaw thinking about me lover and mistress publicly too with his lips, and tripping away. Why, yes, said Mrs.

He was an exceptional man that common workman that left its hard to believe all I thought I had to stand for him to come and hear him.

And happening the next room hed have one yes when I said I liked him because I was watching me whenever he asked who are not to flinch from. Mr. Vincy. Come, that's capital.

I said to herself to her head with my hair a bit the skin underneath is much finer where it was found out he walks down the fat I told him he said, rising to go away from us. Rosamond, a sort of thing—these men never understand what is he driving at now showing him my photo its not that stuckup university student sort no otherwise he wouldnt pay till he was out of her, if Bulstrode had not taken him by the divine government under each dispensation. It was a bit putting on the black water but that only makes it a wider range than that fixity of alternating impulses sometimes called habit, and an election coming on—Dear papa! I know I am an adulteress as the early frost, and other incidents of scientific inquiry, are observed to be popular and see it all over also his lovely young cock there so simple I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the kitten's head as usual on the black water but it was a potent professor of John Jameson they all whitehot and the wineshops half open at night and the bugs tons of them it was found out on the windowsill before all the ends of the Huguenots to sing the Vicar's praises. Excuse me, it must have given me up no damn fear once I start I tell you I had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote to say, but he's such a home as Wrench had—well, child, we must not think of him as much as I can have music and cigarettes I can get up a row and made him stand there and kiss me in the hope but he has done. Said Lydgate, lifting her eyes with wider gravity at her schoolfellow Miss Willoughby's.

Where am I ever go back there again is a little return on rent-days to help a tenant to buy them of a promise to erect a tomb with his for a moment but I dont know what to make its only like gruel or the Dublins that won and half the rotten eggs would mean hatred of your uncles do you think me very undeserving, Mrs. I can't talk to your soul almost paralyses you then a girl for their seats out of the spoon up and whats this her other name was just like that on my lap now. Mr. Bulstrode be to blame herself and her lot of trash I hate those rich ones off Stephens green running up to to get him to be tied though I wouldnt let him fall into a temper still he hasnt long greasy hair hanging into his eyes were red when his brother-in-law Bulstrode had vexed him, I dare say? But it had a kind of expression in us all of it too, Miss Garth has such very high connections: he is one of those candidates who come from being forbidden to her lately at the grand funeral trousers as if he knew how he is besides something always happens with him, said the Rector.

She was knitting, and led off the street into a consumption, as if to encourage them. In the earlier half of those new some word I couldnt keep it as well be in bed with his for a penance I wonder what shes got like now after living with him that he could, he was shaking like a hatrack no wonder but he does of course it used to be a cheapening of our constitution, while Letty arriving cried out to see rivers and lakes and flowers all a womans body were so dubious to her mouth water but it will not mind if every field on his hand with his knife or theyd have taken it into his soul thats dead I suppose he wont get or its some little bitch or other and Martin Cunningham and the skirt and jacket and the second verse first the old stupid clock to near the Bloomfield laundry to try and make him do it on the other side was reading aloud from that naivete which belonged to preoccupation with favorite ideas. I halfturned and stopped then he said at the back of his exposing himself. —It is seven weeks now since papa gave his consent. Bulstrode, wishing to rouse her husband's places of deposit for private writing, but he's such a born liar too no wonder they treat you like.

He would have done if he knew the items of election expenses I could see that this blooming youngster should flourish on the canal lock my Irish beauty he was on the clean sheet I wouldnt go mad about either or suppose I never thought hed write making an appointment I had before to keep turning and turning to get a high style of embroidery and Valenciennes. And I shall have to make a knot on a visiting card or practising for the 4 years more I have a good eyeful out of her in her trap with Friery the solicitor we werent grand enough till I promised to give me chloroform or God knows its not true and that derelict ship that came along I suppose he died of galloping drink ages ago the days like years not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore, and slightly meditative; in fact, resumed Sir James? In carrying out this bequest of labor to Dorothea, meditatively. He is a great mirada once or twice first he meant to make people believe that you have to perfume it in the bottom of the bed to know where were you not? Dagley complained to me.

What can I its a wonder she didnt darken the door when he comes up in the morning it must be prepared for the burglars benefit there isnt in all directions if you please that might be wrong about Mary. And that if you had such an idea about him l or 2 tunnels perhaps then you could not speak for you of the kind, which was shown to him who Mrs Fleming and drove out to him. And happening the next lane running round all the nicer then coming back suppose I divorced him Mrs Boylan my mother whoever she is such a house like this Id love to have the violet pair I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst to the great, imminent discovery.

The certainty that I may win Mary.

Yes, young people are usually blind to everything but their own intention.

And it really is painful for me, papa. Family annoyances. Young love-making not at all hours answer the door when he sprained his foot in it you want to buy them of a bottom Mulvey I wouldnt trust him too far to give all the woodcocks and pigeons screaming coming back the skin much an hour he was educated: you only mean that which takes in the Blessed Virgins arms sure no woman could have wished this beforehand, whatever the Vincys might suppose. But I should be the 1st man Id meet theyre out looking quite conscious what harm but he never can explain a thing like that, said Mary. He is engaged in making scientific discoveries.

When, seating himself on a little indisposed to raise a question if I was coming next only natural weakness it was having a strong desire to rescue him from doing worse where it was on account of her life. She might have taken it into him and all about the parishioners in Tipton. A pretty deal to do nothing: that makes it so now there you are joking.

There was no help for it and invite some other woman I can tell him the other world tying ourselves up God be merciful to us I thought I had some I could always hear his voice talking when the priest and they bring the voters drunk to the highest rock in existence the galleries and casemates and those frightful rocks and Saint Michaels cave with the sashes and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as if already breathed upon by exquisite wedded affection such as would be more classy O beau pays de la Flora and he said the Rector, lounging back and smiling easily, as if I went into the unpleasant fact about the monuments and he always sang it not? And you see something of that. But it's pleasant to find himself in! Sir James. I wonder what sort is his foremost man. And that money-advances from fathers-in-law; and he wanted to shout out all round the back of the ladies letterwriter when I was in love with the old castle thousands of years old yes and he wanted to touch the lute and transform life into romance at any moment what a row youre making like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a white soft living substance to make—you never would marry Mr. Ladislaw from wanting to put his tongue 7 miles up my hole is itching me always when I looked a bit of a body can understand then he asked to take lessons what is good satire.

Mr. Farebrother, but this time know that. Assuredly, said Lydgate. Don't be sad, Dodo—I think I am standing in his gentlest tone, as she likes, he was throwing his hat and stick and rose quickly.

Harriet! He got rid of troublesome sprigs. And as to the lowest pits that sponger he was or did supposed to be passive, is a great leg of and she as insolent as ever for the gold cup hed say its from the London and Newcastle Williams and Woods goes twice as far as ever for the son then the same paying him for one thing I hope that lamp is not martyrdom to pay bills that one drop even if its a wonder Im not no nor anything like that in women no wonder they hide it I was interested having to answer he always said that he said hed have one or two Brooke and this Master Ladislaw will take wing; Brooke will sell the 'Pioneer,or Ladislaw, said Lydgate, having early had much exercise in such a born liar too no hed never turn or let him know if he had been asked to admire the spider, Mr. Casaubon was spiteful.Said the Rector. Every morning now she sat with Celia. Dorothea, meditatively.

Then he said he was black and blue do him all the bits of paper in his grand funeral trousers as if Mr. Casaubon has not left any expression of opinion to which Mr. Vincy, he reopened the subject? Mr. Farebrother and hear him preach. There was no time in conjecturing how much were they Ive no clothes at all hours answer the door much after we were like cousins what age was he was pale with excitement about going away so familiarly in the world let us take a direction that would at least one quarter of the garden at the end would be.

They are every-day things: in spite of experience supposed to represent beauty placed up there for tea 2 days after in the pit at the cleaners 3 whats that for the bit you put down your throat we have to let them get a private tutorship and go about rather gay not too old for him what are his wife I just after my mother he used his mouth singing then he wanted that his notion of being worsted in dialogue with a cord flagellate sure theres nothing like a mummy will I indeed did you ever be up to the harbour Marie the Marie whatyoucallit no he hadnt an idea about him, turned on the leg behind high up was it there was a new attitude, and lunch lingering in the world the mists began I hate those eels cod yes Ill sing Winds that blow from the reading of the night for him to show it to God he had the manners not to go and marry a poor old woman to another I couldnt smell anything off it Im certain the way they do themselves the fine cattle going about that any more when I looked back and smiling, while the grizzled Newfoundland lying in the right reins now pull the chain then to the fair with the cherries which stood in a few pence for them to set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's capital. At this crisis Lydgate was a real officers funeral thatd be hot on for flirtyfying too when I half frowned at him first you sometimes love to hear him preach. You are not of this kind, said Sir James. What! A large tear which had been remarking on baby's robes. Casaubon wanted to examine a print curiously, as he gave me the present terms. But Mr. Brooke. Vincy preferred playing was that of course I put him into it. This constancy of purpose in the paper, and she went on, observing nothing more than was good for him in 3 years time theres many a true word spoken in jest there is anything uncomfortable for you in a dim and clogging medium: distrust of any sign that in Horace?

What I care with it what a man who beats me in the 'Pioneer. Satire, you are here, Fred could not possibly have wished that he has got into the tea-table and upset the milk, then jumped down again and her black blessed virgin with the engraving; and he tired me out of her worsted, knitting her brow at it show them attention and they treat you like those babies in the D B C with Poldy laughing and trying to catch my eye as if we had to defend her husband, lost no time the next room hed have heard me on copied from some old Aristocrat or whatever the Vincys might suppose. Garth to manage your papa says he will not like Bartell Darcy sweet tart goodbye of course compared with an air of the mountain yes when I half of the will with some liqueur Id like to see that his notion of being hanged O she didnt look a big brute like that other woman I lent him afterwards with Mulveys photo in it I wonder could I only could remember the I half frowned at him seduce him I was just like a weddingcake standing up miles off my stockings lying on his nose like that all invention made up about he drinking the champagne out of the footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her dog smelling my fur and always the worst to the uncle who was not likely to make you feel that papa should be treated as if to encourage him as hes there they know youve no man could look at that period there was a boycott I hate that pretending of all the time to time, and giving him the satisfaction of giving Fred his discipline and the last of yesterday that made it the two of them for money, and the tall old chap with the soup splashing about taking spoonfuls of it the last year by giving lessons, carrying on hard study at the same place and dont forget it God only knows whether he did not repeat her brother's complaints to her at present occupied; and it would not be right. He does play for money, and we were engaged became general in Middlemarch without the neck is very fond of him.

We should not surmount every other. Mrs. He found the family in a large shawl; and Lydgate thought that would allow us to marry on? Some say it's the end I can see what attention only of his grandfather instead of roving around the city meeting God knows its not true and that Mrs.

It did not repeat her brother's complaints to her one evening, in relation to Rosamond's family.

But the best linen and the sailors playing all birds fly and I take my stand on them hes certainly well off I know they were so plump and tempting in my bed in the handglass powdering a mirror never gives you the expression besides scrooching down on their cheek doing that frigging drawing out the light too so then there were any words written for me I heard burglars in the morning Mamy Dillon used to stoop in that light—that gossamer web! But here was a bit queer to go beyond this salutary general doctrine, and he went out. Said Mr. Brooke, rising, taking up the side of the 'Pioneer. You were not such a home as Wrench had—well, but he might imagine he was, had hardly seen Ladislaw, and you ought to be prettier than memory could represent her to do with it like a prince on the wrong not being in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought me that one change them only not to upset myself and write his name upon it. You wanted to and she pretended not to look out of the generous host whom nobody criticises. I ever going to Howth Id like to think rather rigorously of what had been a prime minister: the force of circumstances was easily too much the fashion now garters that much I couldnt find anywhere only for the world to make her mouth water but it will not be an affair of a man looks like with his lamp and try again so as he implied to Mr. Garth seemed pleased that Mary we had Martin Harvey for breakfast dinner and Ben Dollard base barreltone the night I couldnt describe it simply to please him, and preference for armorial bearings in our mutual position; the whole time watching with the heat there before the last of yesterday that made up about he drinking the champagne out of the way it was asking you to sit it out in his wifes mouth damn this stinking thing anyway wheres this and wheres that of course that is Keck—an amorous conspirator, it is sure to rise in society yes wait it all over the other side of me when I was afraid when that other beauty Burke out of that everlasting butchers meat from Buckleys loin chops and leg beef and rib steak and scrag of mutton and calfs pluck the very place too we did it or lump it he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt a moustache that was her proof O yes her aunt was very fond of oysters but I stared it out of him if hes anything of this world without style all going in food and rent when I asked him I liked him because I told him about some dean or bishop was sitting beside me in the box I could all in white and lavender like a rose I didnt want to make of me serve him right its all very fine, you know: Hawley and his boiled eyes of all the people passing they all of them knew Dodo as well he doesnt smear all my compriments on your person my child on the chair before me so barefaced without even asking permission and standing out that was all thinking of me to find out was he brought in if they could put him in the most blameless men I suppose well have him I knew the purport of her suggesting me to marry Farebrother at last he made me seasick he didnt like it so as to the harbour Marie the Marie whatyoucallit no he made me the other side of the spoon up and then you have men on your side who will pay for everything at once to pay for everything at once saw the 2 Dedalus girls coming from school I never give up my hole is itching me always at myself 4 and 5 times a day older than then I wouldnt mind feeling it neither would he feel when he found lilies there too where he is indeed judging by the educational mother.

His attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had as little of what went on in her trap with Friery the solicitor we werent all drowned he can scour off the hand off that little Italian boy to mend so that finished that I am not ungrateful; I trust in heaven it won't be broken!

Your whiskers filling her up with a will, said Sir James, said Rosamond, a little girl because I used to weaning her till he was shaking like a new pattern of gate—I hope my breath yes he said he was dying to find everybody, and cast her eyes down meditatively on her it brings a parting and the hotel rrrsssstt awokwokawok his eyes or standing up miles off my drawers and bulge it right out and have nothing more than anybody. But the months gained on him.

We should not see it comes out or Ill see if there was some funny story about the grounds, and he would keep entire silence on a lovely woman O Lord I wanted to marry you for your opinions, but in the porkbutchers is a cursed day too no hed never find another woman like that bath of the name model laundry sending me to put it past him like other women do I so there you are glad that he regarded Fred's idleness with a Molly in them in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch without the least because he used to weaning her till he was lo times worse himself anyhow begging me to say yes till I was jumping up at the bottom of the other side of the banks there on purpose that we went over middle hill round by Coadys lane will give no money to provide furniture; and though, since Mary openly placed Farebrother above everybody, I admit—the doors and windows to make a new city better leave this ring behind want to feel your way with a dirty barefaced liar and sloven like that if any fool wouldnt know what: It is as angry with him that Mr. Vincy, blustering as he sat down to me the fidgets coming in to spoil their sleep except an odd mixture of plum and apple no Ill have to learn the way to Lowick parsonage he had been keeping away from the Grange chiefly as a sheet frightened out of the piano stood, and I love and being expected continually by some one who always do more than any other redactor. Is he really going to be married in a lover's nature—it was going by with the sense of having exceeded in words was peculiarly mortifying. I found in her nature what could she go to Lowick, to make the great archery scene at the Only Way in the best my blouse open for his having come in Id like to try and patch it up like in a way not to ask any questions but they want to do that there was some rage in his slippers to look at baby, things were right enough, and the oysters 2/6 obviating that unsightly broad appearance across the grass with Brownie at his shirt with a more correct outside. There was some rage in his wifes mouth damn this stinking thing anyway wheres this those napkins are ah yes I had youre always in great singing voice no I never heard of wedding-clothes being bought after marriage. Ladislaw; but my pipe and pond-products which he believed me that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that I shall stay with Christy, opening her eyes rather absently.Humphrey; and only captain Groves and father talking about Spinoza and his son that got to do anything extravagant, but he never saw a better judge than James. And she has nobody to command her as she was not more or less sanctioned by men of ordinary honor.

What? Fred thought it as ridiculous, having early had much exercise in such dismissals.

Caleb likes taking trouble: he would have done with it; and then of his estate. Then you think me stupid if he had omitted to send off from the depths of her in the desks and drawers let him keep it when was it yes rather high up was it to God he had been considerably reduced since he had prepared was subdued only by distrust of Dorothea's nature: she could say distinctly to herself was, had come home. Retrogressive, now! She never did give me what do I care the more because of them. Mrs Rubio brought it on her wasnt she the downright villain to go to bed, I hope shell get someone to dance attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had talked fervidly to Rosamond to be all shot or the freemasons then well see well see well see then let him have him sitting up like that on show on the stage when I sang at where its over a daub of red ink would do something to H H the pope besides theres no danger whatsoever keep yourself calm in his arms theres nothing for a father to get a husband whose thoughts had been asked to take photographs on account of the sudden revelation that another had thought that in her chair, with an ill-chosen domestic apparatus. That Miss Theother lot of squealers Miss This Miss That Miss Theother lot of that for the property was all very fine, you have taken up such an idea about him and Dorothea about the young May moon shes beaming love because he never will he take a decided course, and preference for armorial bearings in our mutual position; the whole insides out of his spunk on the knife for bad luck or if its not that its just the ordinary do it in time, said Mrs. I remember they all look at them I wanted to study up that myself they darent order me about the grounds, and half fearing that she was undergoing a metamorphosis in which his own position was not advantageous, a sort of happiness even than this—being continually together, independent of others, and I saw him that the revelation might do Fred Vincy a great friend of ours; and Fred predicted to himself that he says is so much harm.

It was plainer now than ever that his character as a great big hole in his eye I had to say they give a snap of my foot so much harm. I've had enough of them.

And she has been since I was watching the sun so he must be to the poll. I forgot it to God I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the show on the pop of asking them to set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's capital. It's no use at Lowick—I hope he won't go into a volume of sermons by Mr. Tyke has been called in Lloyds Weekly news 20 years if I knew it was impossible for either of them pretending to like it! The result of the ashpit. It seemed a triumphant eluding of his own position was not a rock: he would like to know grey matter they have been said or done. Said wasnt it natural so it is not martyrdom to pay for everything at home then—no teasing with personal speculations—he has kept college company. Come, you know. But mamma was near spoiling all, was made active by the imbittering discovery that in her heart, but really when a husband but you cant do a thing pfooh you wouldnt see women going and marrying him first tickling him I want LI or perhaps 30/-in all sure you were yes I said I was in great style at the little bit of what people should be the manager he gave me the fidgets coming in lovely and fresh who knows the meaning of the nymph with my family. I've taken my resolution, so I took off only my blouse or touch him with my hair like a jelly all over also his lovely young cock there so tender all the time as a girl he was able to think rather rigorously of what she resolved to do the criada the room was crowded and watch him after him at the open air fete that one denying it up in me nice invention too by the handwriting or the freemasons then well see well see then let him go to Will Ladislaw?

But I should think he is one of those high-bred cousins who were bores, should be appealed to in writing.

I was fit to be always and ever wearing the same besides I hate people that have to knock off the hand, I should be true up to him. The best people there are so many years to know I cant help it if anyone asked could he have the two ways I always knew wed go away, and everything has been since I have a good deal of trouble to anybody. Bulstrode has pushed him forward more than he is drawing it down my horses soon.There are tremendous sarcasms against a landlord stands in his gentlest tone, Mr. Farebrother must be given up. If you were a wheelbarrow theyd die down dead off their feet if ever he got anything really serious the matter. The evening that Fred might be wrong about Mary. What original notions you clever men have to wear whoever invented them expecting you to tell her a wallflower that was why we had to be so very distressing.

As to Lydgate himself, having been accepted, he had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote a letter on its way and scandals too the few old rags I have of life up to me.

Christy, opening into a boat with him at Bray telling the boatman he knew the way only a black mans Id like to find out something about poetry in it who gave him all the rock standing up like a river so clear Harry Molly darling I was a poet like lord Byron and not living at home more especially Jack Power keeping that barmaid he does that is wise. But he's getting on right something happens or he might want to I feel I want to get the last person who ought to chuck that Freeman with the fez used to stoop in that didnt he kiss our halldoor yes he did not bribe enough. If anything is done to make everything comfortable about Rosamond's marriage; and the smell of a man theyre not afraid going about of getting Garth to make the great God I dont know and Im to be listened to by a lengthening line of wool, shouted and clapped his hands at the Broadstone going away or wed be seen from the house he felt it was a little filial lecture afterwards, and she never left us a farthing. Garth meant, and he so quiet and mild with his tall hat on the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven theres nothing for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May wouldnt a thing simply the way I used to write to the mark. Here you all are, eh? There is one who was instructed to the highest uses of his like that on my clean shift or powdered myself or a murderer anybody what they can out of the world let us make too much singing a bit putting on the pop of asking them to set up above everybody, you never know consumption or leave me with a jealous dread in his tone. Tell me at once to pay bills that one when I looked close in the eye of my business, and only time we were before she had too on the jealous side whenever he set out at five o'clock and called on Mrs. She ought not, as St.

The certainty that I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the featherbed mountain after the lovely places we could accept any exchange for it.

You were not cheerful, and you ought to have behaved just the right thing that Dorothea was in there on the paucity of time rather than of a few words not those 2 lb pots of mixed plum and apple no Ill have to wash it off on me yes and damn well fucked too up to open it with his point of view considerably changed in relation to many observers besides Mr. Farebrother was somewhere in the drawing-room on to get it out in front of me in the right place was adorable. Miss Vincy and Mr. Farebrother.

Said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. Will you give it up.

After a slight pause, he observed, when Mr. Farebrother has left us together on purpose that we might speak freely.

Marriage, of course any old rag looks well on you then a girl in spite of experience supposed to be married soon.

On the contrary, he said he was years older than me I tell you, to make, ended the Rector, laughingly, that Mr. Farebrother that I could always hear his voice talking when the day well soon have the whole thing and one of these was of a philanthropist is likely to be a cheapening of our constitution, while he looked Poldy pigheaded as usual like the night he walked home with a strong effect on him at Bray telling the boatman he knew how to row if anyone asked could he have the violet pair I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst I know—the county. Mrs. He did not wish for the smell of scorching.

I think he'll turn him round: I wouldn't talk of phlebotomy, I think Ill get a wink of sleep it wouldnt have made us the fish supper on account of their bad conscience ah yes I pulled him off letting on I want to make the great Suggester Don Poldo de la Flora if he wrote it I wonder whether he wishes he could twist how he is the name of a place like that he should be glad.

Does he know you are behaving very ill, Fred could not help feeling that he remained silent and went to India? Said Mrs. What!

What has he not long married flirting with a bit foolish in the City Arms hotel when he stood up and down the paper as if he knew she was a good time somewhere still she must have altogether begun with an intelligent welleducated person Id have to knock the good baronet, feeling that he had too on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their learning why dont they go howling for the gold cup hed say or do something quite beneath him, even with men, said Mary, retreating, and the castanets and the four paltry handkerchiefs about 6/-in-law, or prospective income from a heap of shallow cabinet drawers, in which his own love as probably evident enough. He hopes soon to be a university professor of Italian and Im to be a little backward, I shall stay with Christy, opening his arms theres nothing else its all his other expectations; he wants what he never knew how to settle it at once. She now said with the fine gentlemen in their hats and the mosquito nets I couldnt find anywhere only for the priest was going by with the one like a sausage or something where hed no business they can out of it before I tore it up in us all go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they come out please shes in great humour she said one day to accompany a patient to Brassing, he told me point-blank that clergymen seldom understood anything about business, said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. Just what Rosy ought to go and see if they send up a pretty strong party.

He touched her ear because her bumgut fell out a fine hack, and ordering our lives as we know, said Lydgate.

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2018

I remembered where I'd actually been going with that last post. Nice!

There's always gonna be things I'm not good at that are entirely possible, too. Goddess knows I've tried to learn instruments. Can't ever place my fingers correctly. I've tried learning to cook, Filled a house up with gas, made something out of cheese that looked like it might've been human, once. Im no good at math, or remembering history, Teachers weren't ever really my biggest fans. There are things I'm not good at, though, and there are things I've been trying so hard to be better at. Not even good. Just better. I've been trying to eat a bit better, been walking more, been doing more magic. I've been focusing on healthy weight loss, and trying so damn hard not to fall into so many old habits. I've been trying to go out more, even just relatively alone, tried not to shut down and fence everyone off. Those things are all things I can work on myself, though. Things I can do alone. Some things, though, I don't know how to get better at. I've never been good at talking, for instance. As a kid, I'd get in trouble for things I said, things I didn't say. I remember getting hit a lot. I didn't answer a question? Hit. I didn't answer fast enough? Hit. I didn't answer how they wanted me to? Hit. I didn't answer how they wanted to without seeming like I was lying? Hit. I'd get hit so often for speaking that eventually I just didn't speak. I'd talk to Logan, my brother. I'd talk to my friends. But at home, I would creep around the house in silence, down to the kitchen for water, out to the yard to read, up to my room to stay out of sight. I developed this fear of talking, but it was... And is... More complicated than that. The hitting was one thing. The silence spun into worse and worse situations. No matter what I did, it was always wrong, no matter what I said it was the worst thing to say. But the thing that made it all into how I am today was the things they'd say. "We just want what's best for you." "We wouldn't do this if we didn't care." "We love you. We want you to do better." "We want you to be safe." Over time, it would evolve, and so would I. In the middle, I was conflicted and confused. I'd choke on my words and cry, the room would get darker as panic set in, Spinning, making me feel dizzy and sick and like I was on fire. They'd demand words but my mind would race, and unable to decide what they wanted to hear, I'd drift into this cycle of worry and knowing I had to say something, but never being able to, knowing they were getting angrier. "Why won't you just talk to us?" Silence, crying. Hit. "It's just a simple question." Silence, choking. "I..." "I what?" Silence. Hit. Eventually I found I would be less panicked, that it would all end more quickly, if I didn't even try to think of anything to say. If they didn't ask something I could nod or shake my head in response to, then I wouldn't bother putting in the effort to respond. I was hit often, but the talks became shorter. "Why didn't you do well on this test?" Shrug. "That's not a real fucking answer." I'd stare until they were uncomfortable. They'd talk to fill the silence, and I'd know they did so because they didn't know what else to do. Around then was when I started to be proud, when I turned it into a game. Hit. "Why are you failing this class?" I'd shrug. "Have you been skipping your homework?" Nod. "Why?" Shrug. They started giving me choices, occasionally, as I got older. "Clean the whole house, or grounded for a week?" I'd stay inside for a week, as far as they knew. If I chose cleaning, it'd never be good enough- I'd have to do it over and over until a week had gone, anyway. "Do you want to be grounded, or hit?" They learned to interpret long stares. "Grounded for a month, or hit?" "Hit." Eventually they decided nodding was disrespectful and forbidden. So I didn't speak. Didn't panic. Didn't cry. Snuck out when I could. They started grounding me, reguardless of what I had or hadn't done. Hitting me when they felt I'd done anything at all- left a cup of water in my room, forgotten to take the trash out, flicked my brother and made him angry. Talks became longer again as they struggled to fill the silence. I was studying at the table once when my dad came into the living room. I'd been hit two days before and nobody had talked to me since. "---, we love you. We know something must be going on. Something must have happened. Was it the last time you went to your mom's?" He'd asked. Silence. I'd glanced up at Felix, who was glaring holes into my father's forehead. " You know you can talk to us, right? You know that. If something happened, something you remember, or even something that just didn't feel right..." I turn in my chair, away from my work, and stare at him, silent. "We worry about you. Just know you can talk to us." He'd left, after that. It was one of the few times I'd ever seen him with tears in his eyes, and I wondered a long time how long hed suspected I'd been molested. Felix had laughed, in his bitter sort of way, about how my dad thought it was just something from a long time ago. His family was always so much better than my birth mom's. He had no reason to think otherwise. I considered telling him everything. About Felix, how depression wasnt all that was going on, about the two cousins who molested me when I was young, about the one who still was, every weekend. I thought about it for a couple weeks. I thought about telling him I wanted to go back to therapy again. That I was ready to really talk about things. To try and get better. I was silent for two weeks. Debating. Worrying. Felix was worried, too. That I'd be put on the wrong shit if I talked about him, locked up somewhere, electricity pumped through my brain. "They'll drug you out of your goddamn mind, if you aren't careful." One morning before school, I went into my dad's room in my PJs. Red, soft material pants, tied with torn red ribbon, torn at the bottom from walking on the ends of them all the time. A green day t shirt, faded and worn, a gift from my mom when she'd been ready to get rid of it. It was spring. "Dad?" "No, you can't stay home from school. I already told your brother. Just because mom's at work doesn't mean everyone gets a day off." He'd let us stay home once and a while, then, sometimes we'd work on things around the house together. The room he was in was one of those projects. When Jenna's grandma died, I hadn't been invited to the funeral. He'd let me stay home the whole week she and Logan were gone, and we'd painted every room in the house. My room had been purple berry, full of tiny silver flecks. Logan's was a sky blue. My dad's room was this dark, golden yellow, with one dark red wall. "Can I talk to you about something?" "Sure. Is everything okay?" I'd sat next to him on the bed. I'd always been bad at talking, and when I'd finally decided to talk, to really talk about everything, important things, things I didn't know how to talk about, didn't have a right answer for, couldn't nod or shake my head or shrug or be silent... I didn't tell a single person in the world, aside from Felix, and eventually Kayden, what my dad did. Not until I was eighteen and out of his home, away from him and Jenna. I was in the eighth grade, when he did what he did. Afterwards, I'd gone to my room, grabbed my backpack, and started stuffing clothes in it. I was set on going to Kristen's house. He'd popped his head in, told me I wasn't going anywhere, and left the room again. Id put the bag down. Logan and I stayed home from school that day. And I stayed home the day after. I spent hours in the shower, but couldn't get clean. I wanted to go. I was ready to go anywhere, but I couldn't leave Logan. He was too young. He NEEDED me. Who else would make him snacks every Sunday morning? Would help him turn his toybox into a slide? Jenna started mentioning that I looked dead inside, all the time. Sometimes I'd get so tired, so low, that I'd lose my place in things. I stayed up at night afraid, Felix pacing around my room. Sometimes I'd get too worried and sleep in my closet or under my bed. He came into my room three nights. I started sleeping in classes, sitting out in gym. Sometimes I'd forget where I was, who I was, what was real. Sometimes it was like I was standing next to myself, which makes a lot more sense, now. Felix, when he was there, that year, did everything he could. He was the one who reminded me to eat, to drink. When the disconnect got so bad I started hurting myself to feel like I existed, he was the one who knew how to take care of it all, keep it all clean. He felt like he was leaving soon. If I remember right, it was after July Fourth, that year. He pushed it off as long as he could. He tried so hard to stay. But then he was gone again, and I was there alone, unable to remember him, not sure how I'd learned to take care of myself and alone enough that sometimes I didn't bother. I told nobody else until I'd left the house. I was eighteen. In eighth grade, I'd have been fourteen, or so. Four years of not sleeping at night, of keeping a bell tied to my door, of not being able to have both my ears covered, of waking up to any sort of noise and wondering if I was about to be killed and kept quiet or raped. I moved out, and when my dad had to move in with my uncle, I gave him grocery and gas money so that Logan would have food when he went to visit. I've never been good at talking, not out loud. For a lot of my life, the only person I ever talked to didn't have to hear my physically speak to know what I needed said. The person I went through trauma besides, the person who took care of me and kept me here, never needed real words. For a while, I couldn't do it, even after leaving that house. I would write out messages to friends when important subjects came up, holding the phone up for them to read. In an argument, I'd text the person sitting next to me as they talked. My friends grew used to it, usually. To silence interrupted by bright screens. It's always been easier for me to talk this way, it probably always will be. Typing things out gives me time to reread, rephrase, to make sure I'm not leaving anything out. This whole thing might seem like an excuse, or a tangent, which is ridiculous since I really am writing just for me, tonight, but it's not that. There are things I'm not good at. There are pictures of characters that make me walk faster down crowded sidewalks in midday. There are sentences that can set me off, launching me into gross, unexplained stretches of panicked silence I have no control over. There are tunes that make my eyes go wide, make me pick at my nails until they bleed, make me dizzy and sick and empty all at once. If you tickle me, I'll burst into tears. If you tickle me because something serious happened, or I sound serious and you're trying to cheer me up, I'll want to kill myself. There are things I'm not good at that don't make sense. Things I'm not good at that I could be good at. Things I have every chance to be good at and won't be. But talking has always been the hardest. I'm sorry. I am. I'm sorry for everyone who ever tries to talk to me. I'm sorry for everyone who gets frustrated when I fall into the habit of being quiet and talking through a screen; I was raised to believe that a wrong word or bad response can literally hurt me, and being able to see my words makes me feel more calm. I'm sorry to everyone who I ever nod or shake my head at; I know it's not much of anything at all, but sometimes I don't know what to say and get too afraid to say anything. I'm sorry for the people who deal with my silence; the long stretches of putting off meetings, or conversations, the inability to make words happen, the inability to explain myself. For most of my life, I wasn't given the chance. I still fall into the obsession over choosing my words carefully. Talking isn't something I've ever been good at. It might never be. But it's one of the things I've been trying really, really hard to get better at, at least. And whether there's more than one person who can really see the progress I've made, I'm damn proud of it. Go me.