really late

you said you had feelings for me… I wonder where they went

Soon 31a

I am still buried, workwise, so just 31a tonight; 31b will probably appear next week sometime. And then the epilogue after that. Anyway, I thought there might be some interest in not waiting any longer to find out what happens in a particular conversation. Thus I give you the part that follows part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 23, part 24, part 25, part 26, part 27a, part 27b, part 28a, part 28b, part 29a, part 29b, part 30a, and part 30b.

Soon 31a

“Abigail told me everything,” Helena repeats.

Myka can’t make her mouth move, but her brain is speeding away from her, as if in compensation: it’s only fair, it’s only fair, now Helena knows, now she knows there’s no pity, only guilt and no pity, and now Helena can hate Myka for it, and if that’s what had to happen to bring this thing to its real end, then okay, okay, the past can be the past, and everything can finally be over and—wait.

“Why are you here?” Myka asks, because that is the only information lacking now.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“I have no idea. Where’s Christina? With Abigail?”

“As if I could pry her away from Charlie Barker. She likes you a great deal, Myka, but you are no match for a beagle.” Helena gives a hint of a smile.

She’s going to be lighthearted about this? Myka sighs. “I’m sure that is in some way the story of my life.” She gets no laugh in response… in fact, she gets no response at all. Myka sighs again. “Listen, I don’t want to do this. I’ve beat myself up enough for what I did; I don’t need you to do it too.”

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really important!!!!!

I’ve reached 8K a couple days ago and I really wanted to thank you guys! Although I really appreciate it, I feel like I should make this official: I’m currently on semi-hiatus and I’ll mostly run my blog on queue (I’ll try to set it during the weekends) and that will be it for most part. I’m really sorry for not saying this before, even though it’s been a month or so that I’m running my blog like this, and sometimes not even on queue. I didn’t want to be on hiatus or semi or whatever, and I tried not to, but unfortunately I don’t have time for blogging like I used to, so I think I should be honest with everyone. I hope you’ll all stick with me during this delicate year, because I’m sure I will need to come to this blog someday to just vent out all my frustrations bc this year is gonna be THE year and I’m betting more than I have, so I need to give it my best.

Fic: A Yearning Satisfied

Summary: It’s been a year since Justin’s moved to New York, and he’s missing Brian more than ever. But there’s something in the air, and it’s about to turn Justin’s shitty day into something pretty damn spectacular.
A/N: Written for the Britin 30 Day Challenge Prompt #3: Yearning’s when you want something really badly. Like… so bad it hurts.” “Exactly. It needs to hurt to be worthy of the word.” - Queer as Folk, Season 1, Episode 4.
Word Count: 4,500
Rating: Explicit
Read on AO3: A Yearning Satisfied

Justin dropped his bag to the ground and stretched out on the grass. He’d slept in his studio the night before, hoping he’d find some inspiration in the late hour with the aid of a handle of vodka, but all he was left with was a hangover and a stiff back. Fuck, he was so screwed. He’d been out in New York for barely a year and already he was losing his inspiration. What kind of shit artist was he?

He took out his sketch pad and some pens, hoping something out here would jog his imagination. He just needed some sunshine, some fresh air. It was being trapped in his studio that was stressing him out. All those blank canvases taunting him. That’s all it was.

The realization that it was all bullshit struck him the second Justin looked up and saw two guys making out on a blanket just a few feet away.

All of a sudden, that dull, heavy pain he’d been feeling in his chest so often these days exploded into something far more intense, far more difficult to ignore. Christ, he missed Brian. It hit him at the oddest times — when he was brushing his teeth and realized there was nobody bitching at him about the toothpaste he left in the sink, when he was cooking himself dinner and instinctively made enough for two, when he was walking to his studio and heard footsteps alongside him and briefly thought it must be Brian before remembering he was in fucking New York and there werealways footsteps alongside him. Just not the ones he wanted to hear.

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For jadeddiva happy Birthday! 

All the best wishes for you, and your Growing Strong Family!
All the best wishes for this year to bring all the best!

thesoftwarmground asked:

Are you still doing the fic thing? If so,can you do No.5 and Loulor aka Louis/Taylor, thank you :)

5. things you didn’t say at all
note: i don’t like louis so idk how well this will turn out


Louis meets her for the first time at the Kids Choice Awards. He’s seen her on the television, of course he has, she’s Taylor Swift but she’s lovely and nice and funny in person. Taller and more gorgeous than he would ever expect. His heart beats a little faster when she sends him a sly smile, lips turning upwards at one of his jokes. He forgets all about Eleanor in that moment.


Eleanor breaks up with him sometime in September. In between him seeing Taylor Swift on TV and seeing her at a party. It feels wrong to want Taylor for a thousand different reasons; Eleanor was a huge fan for one and Taylor Swift is as big of a superstar as they come. Louis supposes he’s one now, too. 

He sees her leaning against the counter of the bar, hair hanging loose, a short red dress clung to her body. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say only that he has to say something, make a move because he hasn’t been able to get her out of his head since he met her at the Kids Choice Awards.

Her eyes float over the party and she smiles when her eyes land on him, they light up in recognition and she waves. Louis grins, taking that as a sign to come over to her. He thinks a thousand things as he crosses the short distance and chooses which one would be a good opening line: you look stunning, i love your hair,  your eyes are so very blue, you’ve got some killer legs, wanna grab dinner with me?

Instead Louis stumbles over his words and takes too long to say a simple hello but she laughs and he thinks about how nice it is; what a nice laugh she has. He wouldn’t mind hearing it for the rest of his life he thinks but he had thought that about Eleanor’s laugh, too. Taylor greets him back. Louis takes this as his chance to impress her so he launches into a funny story about a fan and Taylor giggles, eyelashes pressed into her skin as she presses them closed, fingers gripping around the counter of the bar. Louis follows her actions with his eyes and he can’t believe he’s actually making Taylor Swift, the secret object of his affections, laugh. He thinks about telling her this: how nice her laugh is but decides against it.


Lighthearted jokes that he texts her go nowhere. Taylor seems oblivious to his crush whenever he sees her which turns out to be quite frequently and for all the worst reasons. Louis clutches his fist as he thinks about it, eyes Taylor and Harry in the corner of the room, leaning into each other as they watch something on her phone both laughing. Even back in September they were something, even earlier than that and Louis had been oblivious the whole time.

It’s something that hurts even more because the more time he spends with her the more he finds himself liking her. It’s not something he’ll ever tell Taylor who barely pays him any attention when Harry’s in the room. He thinks he could settle for friends, maybe she’ll see him as something more one day. Taylor glances over at him, grinning brightly in his direction. He lifts his lips upwards and puts his hand up in a greeting. She looks pretty, he thinks to himself as he watches his best friend and Taylor; super pretty, her hair has been pinned back into a bun and her lips are painted red. She’s just been at a photoshoot, she had told him while she had been waiting for Harry, the only conversation they’d shared in the past month in person playing through his mind. Usually he buts into her conversations with Harry, trying to make himself known, to try and leave an impression. Louis is loud but never loud enough to get Taylor to notice him for more than a few second.


He sees Taylor in February. She’s single this time around. He thinks about telling her all the things he hasn’t said: he thinks she’s beautiful, he thinks he could be in love with her, she’s incredibly talented, he’s thought about a future and seen her in it. Instead he watches her from across the room, watches as she twirls around the room with friends and laughs, her eyes catching his once and smiling softly in his direction.

oh m y god one of the first comments I get on the story is ‘well, the ‘they’ pronoun for one person is too confusing!’

(same comment my dad made)

just. f off, middle-aged men who can’t figure out the ‘they’ pronoun when there’s only TWO PEOPLE IN THE ENTIRE STORY

( also this made me think of you, queerlyobscure)

(I got caught up in small flower prompt ideas from the middle of nowhere i.e IT’S PAST MIDNIGHT I SHOULD DO OTHER THINGS but idc)



— loves lies bleeding —

a cascade of thoughts, wonder, feelings and a beautiful dream—

(one, two, three, certainly nevermore)

he knew since the beginning, how they never shared the same worlds.

…it was hopeless to hold onto these heirlooms for so long.

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