You had been reluctant to go home that day, you had thoroughly enjoyed your visit with Bucky. The two of you talked…well you had done most of the talking while he sat there in the water and looked at you, occasionally grabbing the pad and pencil to write something to you. You had even managed to get him to crack a smile, not one of the small ones from earlier but a full on wide, toothy grin. It had been adorable…at first, that was until you got a glance at his sharp, jagged teeth. They almost reminded you of shark’s teeth only scarier given they were on a human being and not a marine animal. Something about this guy was seriously off, you knew that much, between the webbing and teeth and the constant need to stay in the water you had figured he was…strange to say the least. These should have scared you away, you should have run as soon as he appeared the second time but you didn’t, instead you sat down on the docks and talked to him until he had to abruptly scurry off at the first sign of people. These were all red flags, you should have talked to someone or reported this man to the police and yet again you didn’t and now here you were, the following day sitting on the dock awaiting for your friend to appear.
You doodle a bit, no longer focused on the sunrise as much as your water loving friend who had yet to make an appearance this morning. You gently sketched a face, one with a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones, you doodle some hair, long and matted with water but still gorgeous but what you truly focused on was the eyes. They had to be perfect, they had to capture the essence of curiosity and innocence but they also had to have a deeper, darker tone to them, one that implied this man- whomever he was- had a secret, or a darker side.
A soft coo is what pulls you away from your drawing but you don’t even have to look up to know it was. You set your drawing pad aside as you smile at Bucky who smiled right back, showcasing those jagged, knife like teeth.
“Hey Bucky,” You murmur quietly, as though scared to break the soothing sounds of the early morning sea. Bucky hums softly as he assumes his regular position, his head tucked upon his folded arms as he looks up at you. Your eyes rake over his form, stopping at his neck as you survey the slices of flesh, moving in time with each breath he took. They sure as hell looked like gills…but that- that wasn’t possible, human beings couldn’t have gills…could they? Bucky hums again as he looks at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. Guess he’d caught your rather curious gaze “Sorry, um uh- I was just staring at your-” You gesture to his neck, sighing rather loudly. “Okay Bucky, what the hell are those things?” Bucky reaches up with a webbed hand to touch the skin, running his fingers along the ripped flesh before setting his hand back against the dock, looking rather sheepish. “Oh god Bucky-” You sigh, knowing you’ve offended him again with your ignorance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just-” You gesture to your own neck, revealing the not ripped flesh. “Mine’s different again, see?” Bucky looks back up, his blue eyes traveling over the expanse of your neck. “Do you…do you wanna touch it?” Bucky nods as he leans up a bit, pulling himself up just enough to expose his bare chest. Your eyes rake over his skin, taking in ever piece of smooth, water covered flesh. God- this man…or whatever he is- was beautiful.
Bucky makes a little impatient sound in the back of his throat, making grabby hands at you when he realized he couldn’t quite reach your neck. You smile as you lean down a bit, allowing his cool hands to graze your skin. The feeling was…different than expected; his fingers were cool to the touch and most definitely wet but they felt good against your skin. You hum softly as Bucky touches your neck, feeling the difference between your neck and his own.
“See? Different right?” Bucky purses his lips and nods, staring down at his own body in what appeared to be shame. Whatever was below the water he obviously didn’t want you to see, the most he had exposed to you was his upper body and even that was strange, you could only imagine what it looked like down below. “Bucky?” You whisper, biting your lip as you contemplate whether the question was worth asking. The man hums as he finally retracts his hand, apparently satisfied with his little inspection. “Can I ask you something kinda of…personal?” Bucky looks at you with squinted eyes, the distrust on his face obvious but nonetheless he nods. “Um, are you- are you human?” Bucky looks up at you with an almost frightened expression, his eyes wide and lips parted. But before you can even begin to repair the damage he disappears, ducking down below the surface just as he had done yesterday. “Wait Bucky!” You cry out as you lean forward, searching the waters desperately but there was no sign of him, the only thing that would have hinted that he was here was by the way the dock was covered in rivulets of water, most likely from his dripping hair.
You slump back onto the dock, looking at the waters in surprise. How could he have just disappeared like that? And why did he just disappear like that? You bite your lip in thought as you scan the waters, waiting for any sign of your new friend but there seemed to be none. Even after five minutes you saw no sign of your friend, then ten rolled around, then 20, then 40, but by the time the beach had started to sprout a family or two you realized Bucky wasn’t coming back. You sighed softly as you stood from the dock, grabbing your sketch pad and pencil in disappointment. As you waddled away from the dock you looked back, hoping to catch some glance of your friend but there was none, only the boats and sea so with another sigh you keep on waddling, trying not to let your spirits hurt too much.
You returned the next day, with your sketch pad and pencil, awaiting for Bucky. You waited for 3 fucking hours. 3 hours of just sitting and waiting for Bucky to show up. The sun rose, the people arrived and yet here you were waiting all alone on the docks.
You sigh as you drag your pencil along your paper, creating nonsensical lines and scribbles. It looked as though Bucky wasn’t going to show this morning and you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault but you’d remedy this, you’d get Bucky to come back around.
For the next two weeks you kept up the same routine, showing up with your sketch pad and pencil, waiting for your strange, water loving friend to show but he never did. The countless hours you spent on those docks waiting for him were painful, they have you time to think about him. Even if you had only known him for 3 days you couldn’t help but feel attached to him and now suddenly he had disappeared. And yet here you were, the third week, and still sitting on the dock waiting for him. This time you had brought your guitar and you were gently strumming on it, humming a solemn song yourself. If you were going to wait out here for hours on end for your non existent friend to show up you had better bring something to entertain yourself since drawing wasn’t doing it for you anymore.
You strummed and plucked multiple songs, slowly but surely making your way through every tune you knew how to play. By the time you were done your fingers were aching and the sounds of the beach had gone strong; It had to be noon by the time you finished and surprise, still no sign if Bucky. God- why would he just leave you like this? Why wouldn’t he come back or at least tell you why he had left? Perhaps it was you? Maybe he was tired of you and didn’t want to see you anymore? Perhaps your insistent questions had angered him?
A million questions swirl around your mind until you can barely think anymore, your head to jumbled with “maybe’s” and “what if’s”. God- you had really fucked this up. For once you actually liked someone and then you went and fucked it up. If only you had kept your mouth shut, if only you hadn’t been so annoying, if only you could have been better.
Tears burn at your eyes and before you know it you’re crying, your tears sliding off and hitting the watery docks. You were so pathetic, you knew a guy for 3 days and then he leaves and you’re this heart Broken? You bury your face in your hands, crying into them like some pathetic cry baby, which you were; The negative thoughts don’t mix well with your already strong feelings of frustration and regret.
Your crying is only spurred on by your negative thoughts, both your frustration and self hate brewing together to create the ‘beautiful’ mixture of tears you were experiencing right now. And that’s when you hear it, a gentle but soothing coo amongst the sound of ocean waves and the distant beach goers. You don’t even want to look up for the fear of the noise only being your imagination but suddenly there’s that strange but pleasant hand on your leg, gripping your leg gently. The coo comes again, this time a bit louder and persistent, almost as though Bucky was trying to grab your attention. Even with all your frustration and anger you look up, sniffling a bit as you do.
“Bucky…” You sniffle softly, hesitantly meeting the man’s gaze. He coos once again, his bright blue eyes very intently looking at your face. You bite your lip as you look at him, feeling even more pathetic than you did before. You can’t look into those ocean eyes any longer, your shame and embarrassment getting the better of you as you turn your head away from him but before you can there’s a gentle hand on your cheek, wiping away at your tears. You look back at Bucky in surprise, his hand feeling pleasant against your own wet cheek. This the most Bucky had ever touched you, other than when he had touched your neck and hands but this was- this was something else; this was more than those observatory touches, this was something more intimate. You sigh softly, allowing your eyes to flutter close as Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, collecting each tear that fell- however they don’t remain closed for long when they’re suddenly shooting back open in surprise.
Can your friend be your soulmate too? … there are times where we are so happy that we want to cry and there are times where we are so mad that we want to kill each other. this week a lot happened at home for me so I was unable to make it to Kristens birthday party in Maryland (if you know us, you will understand how upset I was and still am) but then I looked back at ALL of these amazing memories and it made me realize that this one thing won’t stop us from all the other things we have planned. we are both very goal-oriented people, if we want something we work for it. yes we have both made plenty of mistakes, been through plenty of heartbreaks, and had plenty of misunderstandings. But we have had so many more laughs, opportunities, and adventures. we have a plan to travel the world together. I still remember that day we first met like it was yesterday, crazy to think it was only last year, but we met and we clicked, just like that. we both have goals and dreams and we both support and motivate each other with whatever it is we set our mind to do. We follow our hearts and try to stay as positive as we can. I have no idea where I would be if it wasn’t for you kris. You came into my life at the perfect time, when I needed you most, it was so unexpected but I’m so glad you did. Thank you for sticking around, thank you for being over protective so girls don’t hurt me, thank you for jamming in the car wth me, thank you for wasting all your gas and time to drive 6 hours every time you visit me, thank you for the adventures, thank you for the clothes (even tho I stole them from your closet), most of all thank you for being my best friend. “May this moment last forever, you and I are gunna to do this together.” Happy 18th birthday dude. @kristenadele32
Summary: Being a wedding planner is all fun and games until suddenly you’re saved from an accident by the man of your dreams–later discovering that he happens to be your latest client’s fiancé.
Author’s Note: at last! part 2 of this series. thank you all so much for all the positive feedback I’ve been receiving, it means the world to me. I’ve had to re-post this a couple of times because it seems as if Tumblr is just preventing me from uploading new things I guess. Hope you like!
Compensation, The Abyss of Executive Dysfunction and why I will never tell my coworkers why I can't sit on any another chair
The thing with compensation mechanisms is that they tend to confuse people.
“You? Do *you* have ADHD? No, you can’t; you’re so incredibly organised!”
“Are you a bit OCD? I mean, it seems like it’s problematic for you to sit anywhere but on that one chair, and that isn’t… healthy?”
First; the reason I am incredibly organised (at work) is *because* I have ADHD. I have a very poor sense of time and space and I have working memory of a cognitively impaired goldfish (yes, I know that it’s partially a myth, according to some goldfish research) and I often feel like I’m moving through an indistinguishable tangle of time, noise, direction and demands. I need to structure *everything* in a very precise and exact manner, because if I don’t write exactly everything down, if I let one detail slide… then it’s like a slow but steady slide into an abyss of chaos, where I get an intense anxiety over the fact that of that if one thing could slip, how do I know that there are not more things slipping too? It’s like opening the Pandora’s box of executive dysfunction - one slide means loss of control, means chaos. And I can take that in my spare time (I have to, because I can’t compensate both at home and at work - there’s no chance my energy would last), but at work? I’m terrified of what would happen. Lives are at stake, literally, at times. And I love my job, and I would very much like to keep it, too. I want people to feel safe when I work. And if I don’t overcompensate to a frankly obsessive degree… well. I’ll be staring into the abyss of fragmented thoughts and schedules that don’t add up and things I forgot to do for my patients and– So yeah. I’m incredibly organised. Because I know the consequences of not being so. Not because it’s my natural state. And if you take my notebook or my schedule away, I will panic. If my post-its move, it feels like I’m staring into the Abyss of Executive Dysfunction. Because the ice is very thin…
Secondly; I don’t have OCD. I did, when I was younger. I know the difference. What is making me unable to cope with sitting anywhere but in two particular chairs at our meetings room isn’t OCD. It’s… me choosing not to fight my brain on this one thing. As is me, sorting everything when I’m overly tired. I’m obsessive, yes. But it’s not a disorder, in my case; it’s a symptom. The more tired I am from compensating and/or going against my “instincts” (not liking to be touched certain ways, loud noises, not snapping at interruptions, refraining from stimming, not interrupting others when I have an impulse to say something…), the more my brain seeks comfort in “rituals”. It’s very dependent on my current state of exhaustion/stress. The less stressed/exhausted I am, the less obsessive I am. That’s not how OCD works, in my experience. And saying that it is would be to diminish the suffering of those who actually have OCD, because that’s a whole other level than being a bit obsessive. When things get bad, I will scream and tap (compulsion) over sounds that are unbearable (misophonia in varying degrees). That’s a sign that things are too much. Simple as that.
I need things to be in a certain order, because if they’re not, i sometimes lose the ability to navigate, because if it doesn’t look the same, i won’t recognise that it is the same thing, seen from another angle. I hate it when i don’t sit in “my chair” when we have reports and plan the day, because I feel like I’m not at the same place as usual, and that means that i have to figure out how to do the same things i usually do over and over again, because my brain won’t recognise that everything is in fact the same, only seen from another chair. Usually it’s not this bad, but this is where i sit when i need to organise and keep a lot of things in my short-term memory at once. It’s when i need rituals. It’s not a sign of additional disorders. On the spectrum of neuropsychiatric conditions, things tend to bleed into one another. Pushed far enough, you’ll start to display symptoms that have seemingly very little to do with your primary diagnosis. But in many cases, as in mine, it’s a consequence of not being able to cope with the primary condition during certain circumstances. And when we compensate hard enough, that tends to happen every now and then, because it’s draining to compensate. It costs more than anyone will willingly admit when they try to ensure that they’re not seen as “unfit” for their jobs because of the inferno inside their brains.
Lastly; we simplify what we tell you about how we work. There’s no point in me telling people that I have “ADHD with autistic traits” - and trying to explain sensory processing at work– no. One word is quite enough to explain. Additional words that no one really have heard of… nope. So we will likely not tell you things in detail, because one thing is quite enough when it comes to explaining and having to consider how people perceive. So if our explanation doesn’t seem to cover it all… well; it’s sometimes because it’s not the full explanation. And that if of we’re lucky enough to know the full explanation ourselves - most of us feel like we don’t.
So yes. It’s confusing to people around, this compensation thing. But please do take our words for things concerning our diagnoses, instead of questioning and/or adding to them. Because we’re confused as it is, thank you. But we’re getting by, and that’s a lot more than some of us dared to dream of.
what if sans isn't a slur-everything drunk but is like that drunk that could pass for 100% sober except he's super open and will say the first thing on his mind if he isn't actively watching so like "sans you've had thirty beers are you sure you can get home safely" "nope i'm probably gonna teleport into a wall and suffocate but who cares its all gonna reset anyways :D" "Uh... are you okay?" "what is okay"
Ok i freaking love that route - that would be so amazing O-O’’
Just imagine: Papyrus finding him, being all quiet and offended, and Sans attacking him with brutal honesty about this whole situation, oh man…
How can I handle and find the strength to get through moving across the country from my home town, family and friends I have had my whole life, as well as getting over romantic heartbreak?
You have the strength already, the question is how do you dissipate that strength.
What doubts arise that cause you to question whether you can handle this? What unquestioned assumptions do you hold that keep you from realizing you already have this strength?
There will undoubtably be struggles along the way. It is impossible to anticipate all of them. You may worry about one thing but wind up being challenged with a different thing. So there is no use worrying until you know what you have to face.
You may experience suffering during this move. Don’t take the experience of suffering as a sign of something wrong. It is part of growing and stepping beyond your zone of comfort.
Don’t seek to recreate what you had at home but allow what is happening now to move you toward a new sense of harmony.
Over and over our life’s circumstances will change. Over and over we find ways to come to balance with those changes. And then everything changes again!
That is why lasting peace cannot depend on circumstances. We cannot afford to wait until things are a certain way before allowing ourselves peace. Rather, peace is an inner certitude of knowing what you are not. By knowing what you are not, you naturally abide as you are. No self-definitions are needed.
You are not your circumstances, your relationships, your thoughts, your emotions. These will continue to dance throughout your life. Enjoy the dance! But know that you are more than it.
This is found through daily meditation and mindfulness practice. The book The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle will be a good guide. So will The Places That Scare You by Pema Chodron.
Taking all of this together and moving forward with it, you will discover radical transformation and growth in your life even as you come to know your timeless and divine essence.
It’s always there in the back of
Shuuhei’s mind, even as he’s promoted through the ranks, even as he rises and
makes something of himself, the Rukongai brat who failed the entrance exam
three times but became a model shinigami nevertheless.
Strange, he thinks, pausing in the doorway of the Ninth. Strange that such a man, a powerful and at
peace with himself, would do such a thing.
He knows the story, of course,
knows what officially happened that night, but can’t quite make himself accept
it. He’s always had a problem with hero worship, after all, and this is simply
an extension of it, a manifestation. It’s impossible to believe the worst of
the man who saved his life, who looked at him and saw and tried to smile, no matter how unfamiliar the expression
Shuuhei admires Captain Tousen,
respects him, but there’s this creeping sort of doubt in the most private of
his thoughts. Now, in the doorway of his office, newly made a lieutenant,
Shuuhei hesitates. Captain Tousen is
good, wise, but…
But what about Captain Muguruma? What about the man who saved me?
But what about Captain Tousen, who was his fifth seat?
There is laughter in his head,
sharp and biting, and Shuuhei stills. He’s heard that voice before, endured it
since the first time he gained his zanpakuto. Kazeshini sets him on edge,
twists his head and heart around because he’s not supposed to be a killer, and
Kazeshini looks very much like a killer’s favorite weapon.
But while he’s scoffed at
Shuuhei before, mocked him and belittled him and drawled sarcastic—if amusing,
though Shuuhei will never admit it—observations about those they meet, he’s
never openly laughed at Shuuhei before.
‘Kazeshini?’ Shuuhei asks tentatively.
There’s a tug, like someone
pulling at a thread attached to his mind, and Shuuhei obeys the call, closing
his eyes as he focuses inward.
Kazeshini is waiting for him in
his inner world, standing in the middle of a flat plain covered in dead-gold
grass, a grim-grey sky above them. The spirit himself is tense, every muscle
strung taut, and Shuuhei can see the fury simmering just below the surface.
“The bastard’s rotten,” he snarls as Shuuhei steps
closer, and a storm-wind shrieks across the prairie. “He was out with Muguruma
when something happened, yeah? He talks about justice and then he talks about
fear. You survived the Rukongai. You know what I mean. All those petty
dictators and little lords—they thought fear led to justice, too.”
“He’s the captain,” Shuuhei
counters, but it lacks the conviction it might once have had. Rather than
justification, the words are a breath of disbelief, of weary resignation and
sadness and a deeply buried edge of outrage, that Captain Tousen could so easily
dismiss them—dismiss him—and walk
away. Shuuhei has given the Ninth Division everything.
He’s spent days, weeks, months trying
his best to be a passable lieutenant, to balance a workload nearly triple his
former one, to keep his head down and his eyes forward and his questions to
himself. The Ninth has become his entire life, every waking moment spent in his
office or in meetings or seeking answers about the man who gave Shuuhei a
purpose, but then vanished into dishonor, along with so many—a suspiciously
large number—of his fellow captains and lieutenants.
And Tousen Kaname is still
capable of dismissing his careful questions as inanities, wastes of time that
amount to nothing and are not worth answering.
Kazeshini scoffs, though, and
perhaps they’ve both become blind to each other, because rather than
understanding the tone behind Shuuhei’s words, the spirit spits, “Like that
means anything at all. He looks at us like we’re weak. They’re hypocrites, all of them! They see us as weaklings,
but we’re strong enough to terrify them
if we used our full strength!”
The wind is razor-edged now,
fierce and deadly as it slices through the grasses, but Shuuhei stands against
it with the ease of much practice as he watches his zanpakuto spirit pace
“If we get any stronger, they’re
just going to fear us more,” he ventures after a moment, because he’s not the
only one who fears his zanpakuto. He’ll never forget bringing it out in a
zanjutsu class and seeing the trainer himself recoil from it.
But…as inspiring as Tousen’s
words were, that day when Shuuhei was so very close to giving up completely,
they are no longer enough. Not in
light of the questions that are still hovering, unanswered, at the back of
Not when, more than anything, Shuuhei
is so utterly tired of being afraid of his sword. Being afraid of himself.
Kazeshini snarls, spinning to
face him as the wind-shrieks turn to tearing screams, to howls. “SO WHAT?” he
bellows. “They already fucking fear us! The Rukongai brat who can beat out the
heirs of the noble houses—we’re terrifying.
What difference will any of it make?”
He takes a step forward, another, and maybe once Shuuhei would have backed
away, but not now. Not here. Not after everything that’s changed and all the
damned things that have stayed the same.
He’s so tired of being afraid.
So very tired.
The spirit’s eyes suddenly
narrow, as though he’s realizing something, and he stops. He goes entirely,
eerily still for a long moment, then he chuckles. “Ah,” he says with an air of
enlightenment. “I see.”
A step to the side and he starts
to circle, ghosting around Shuuhei, whose heart is pounding just a little too
hard to let him move. He’s used to being scared of Kazeshini, but this is
something entirely different.
Then Kazeshini stops again,
watching him with a gaze that’s far too sharp for comfort, and murmurs, “You
know, there are shinigami who fight without their zanpakuto, Shuuhei. Shihoin,
for one. Never draws her blade, just improves her speed and strength until she’s
damned near unbeatable. You could do the same, couldn’t you? If you wanted, you
could have ditched me a long time ago. Back in the Academy, even. You’re
strong, that much is obvious. I’m here, after all. And if you really wanted me
gone, if you hated me that much…”
He reaches out, hand empty of
any weapon, and this is something new. They’ve never touched before, never even
attempted it, and Shuuhei braces himself as though for a blow.
But it’s just a hand, just
slender fingers as rough and calloused as his own, closing over his upper arm
as Kazeshini moves even closer. He says nothing more, because it’s as good as a
question, the way he left his statement hanging.
It’s a secret, though. A secret
that Shuuhei’s kept even from this innermost piece of himself, because
admitting it is a betrayal of everything Tousen stands for, everything Shuuhei
clung to after he was abandoned and betrayed by the memory of a hero who was
never even remotely his to begin with.
“I don’t,” he says,
whisper-quiet, and the wind falls away to nothing around them. He ducks his
head, lets his spiky hair shield his face, and laughs a little at himself. “I
don’t hate you, Kazeshini. I never have. Why do you think I practiced so much,
can use you so easily? But you scare me. You’re made to take life when I’ve
only ever wanted to preserve it, and sometimes I can’t see that there’s ever
going to be an in-between for us to meet at.”
The silence stretches out like
strands of hair-thin glass, brittle and breakable. There’s no sign of change, no
movement in the land or clouds. The entire world is holding its breath.
Then Kazeshini says, softer and
calmer than Shuuhei’s ever heard from him before, “You’re a moron. That’s respect, you asshole, not fear. Only a completely green idiot or a megalomaniac wouldn’t fear
his own power to some degree. You’re
a shinigami, Shuuhei, a guardian of the borders between life and death. Of course I look like something made to
take lives; that’s part of your duty, isn’t it? We take souls and let them move
on, send them forward to be reincarnated. Even the Hollows we kill end up back
in the cycle. How is that a bad thing?”
It’s not, not in the least, and
Shuuhei is a little horrified that he’s never thought of it that way before. He
sighs, then huffs out a soft laugh and rakes a hand through his hair. Kazeshini
is watching him when he lifts his head, somewhere between wary and relieved and
pissed, but that’s mostly normal.
“Tousen isn’t everything,”
Shuuhei offers softly. “He’s said a lot of good things, and he’s done a lot of
good, but there’s more to who we are than his philosophies.”
Kazeshini favors him with a
sharp-edged smile, and says, “We’ve always thought so. Probably time to show
They’ve been asking awkward
questions, after all. Shuuhei survived the Rukongai for years, more than long
enough to know that the people with those kinds of questions are always the
first ones to disappear.
He’s not willing to believe that
Muguruma Kensei became a Hollow, played with forbidden powers, and agreed to
let Urahara Kisuke experiment on him so that he could grow stronger. Perhaps
he’s being naïve, perhaps it’s that blind hero worship again, but Shuuhei knows
his own mind, and nothing but solid proof will convince him otherwise.
Kisuke stares down at his
friend’s son for a long moment, indecision tearing at him. He knows what has to
be done, knows that he’s already laid his plans and set the first domino
tumbling, but it’s hard. The boy is so obscenely young, would be even if Kisuke was merely the age he appeared
rather than the centuries he actually is. What he’s planning is an actual
crime—endangerment of a minor—and for all that he’s never cared overmuch about
such things, this is…
There’s no trace of foreign
reiatsu in the air. It’s more the feel of the night’s calm than anything that
has Kisuke turning his head and saying with lightness he doesn’t feel, “I’m
surprised, Stray Dog-kun. You didn’t step in and save the day.”
There’s a long pause, even
though Kisuke knows he didn’t get it wrong. Then a dark shape drops from above,
landing in a crouch on the wet pavement and pushing to its feet. It’s a man,
tall and lean, dressed in dark jeans and a sleeveless coat that is equal parts
black leather and deep green cloth, with a deep hood pulled over his face.
There are bands around his biceps and silver rings around the fingers of one
hand, and a sword strapped across his back. Kisuke studies him from under the
brim of his hat, taking in the edgy posture, the tension in lean muscles, but
Another pause, briefer than the
last, and the man sighs softly, stepping forward and crouching down to look at
the unconscious boy. “I thought you’d be happy,” he says, and the low voice is
ever so slightly bitter. “No interference, right? Look where that’s gotten us.”
“Right on schedule, regardless
of a few…improvisations,” Kisuke points out evenly, burying his doubts.
“You’re going to turn him into a
Vizard,” the stranger growls.
“Urahara-san, this whole thing is a disaster waiting to happen. You’re betting
everything on being cleverer than Aizen, but I know he’ll have plans that you’ll never expect. What happened the
Kisuke carefully keeps his voice
airy. “—is something I am far more familiar with than you, Stray Dog-kun.
However, I have been considering your proposal carefully, and I think it
There’s a huffed sigh, and the
man settles back on his heels. “Thank fuck. I thought you were going to be
stubborn about this.”
For a moment, Kisuke considers
sticking his tongue out at the younger man, but considering the boy bleeding
out in front of them, perhaps now’s not the best time. Instead, he tilts his
umbrella and makes a shooing motion with one hand. “Come, come, make yourself
useful, Stray Dog-kun. You can carry the boy back to the shop if you’re so
concerned about him.”
The man sighs at him again, but
carefully gathers Kurosaki Ichigo into his arms and stands easily, despite the
boy weighing just about as much as he does. “I’m not doing it for him,” he says
flatly, regardless of his gentle grip. “It’s to get justice for what Aizen,
Tousen, and Ichimaru did to the captains and lieutenants.”
Kisuke falls into step beside
him as they head for the shop, and thoughtfully angles the umbrella to cover
all three of them. “Of course, of course,” he says brightly, casting a sideways
look at his companion. Between the gloom of the rain and the shadow of the hood
he can just make out a few locks of black hair weighted down with water, the
high arch of a cheekbone, and the shape of one slanted eye. “I take it the
others are well?”
“Fine,” the man huffs.
“Unobservant as hell, but fine. I managed to get all the way into their base
while they were sleeping without triggering the alarms or the wards. If Aizen’s
managed to make any Vizards on his own, they’ll be screwed.”
With a hum, Kisuke
simultaneously acknowledges the point and changes the subject. He dwells on
Aizen and his actions far too much as it is. “I take it you still haven’t—”
“No. Stop asking. The captain
doesn’t need to know.”
“I just think—”
And the brat has the audacity to
call him stubborn.
Imagine your favorite turtle cuddling with you. It’s late and it’s cold and he’s had a stressful day. All he wants right now is to hold you and kiss you and fall asleep. The best part about being in a relationship is that all of those things can happen.
Leonardo is exhausted.
Today has been an exhausting, difficult day. And it seemed like those days were coming along more often.
Sometimes, the line between brother and leader can be confusing and tiring. There are some days when he just wants to hang out and not do anything…but that can’t happen.
He has a job to do.
A job that his family counts on.
So after training and patrol and meditation and butting heads with his brothers, all he wants to do is to crawl in bed. He slowly walks through the dark hallway, his brother’s voices and laughter slowly vanishing from his ears. He approaches the final circular door.
His door. His bedroom. His sanctuary.
He shuts the door behind him and leans against it, pressing his head to worn out wood, lost in thought. He thinks about everything he had to do today and how he will do it again tomorrow and he wonders if it will ever get any easier. He had been the Leader for five years, since he was fifteen, and as he got older his job only seemed to get harder.
Leo sighs and turns around, acting to get into bed, when he notices a small figure underneath his sheets. He stiffens but relaxes when the figure mumbles something. He would know that voice anywhere.
He strides over, quietly, and pulls his blue comforter away, revealing Y/N’s peaceful face. He notices the book tucked away next to her, a copy of Cinder that has her finger tucked between the pages.
He laughed softly at the sight before him.
“Did you fall asleep waiting for me?” He whispers.
Leonardo carefully takes the book, making sure to mark the page, and places it on the nightstand. For a moment, he simply watches her breathe softly.
She looks so content and he wonders what she might be dreaming about. A little part of Leonardo hopes that she’s dreaming about him…Eventually, he decideds to join her in her dreams.
Moving away, he removes his armor piece by piece, putting it away. He looks in the mirror. He tools older. Tired. He examines his green skin, littered with scars and a few tattoos. His eyes linger in his left forearm, where he had the kanji symbol for “love” tattooed.
He had gotten that for her and she had held his hand the entire time. He hadn’t really needed her to but he certainly had enjoyed it.
He looks up and he can see her reflection in the mirror. Y/N has rolled over and is now facing him, her arm reaching out towards him as though to say
“Come to bed.”
Love. His fingers run over the inked skin before he turns away and goes to join her. Carefully, so very carefully, he slides in bed next to her. Leonardo is always surprised about how small she seems next to him. How delicate, almost doll like.
She suddenly stirs, her eyes just barely opening.
“Leo?” She asks, her voice thick with sleep.
“Hey. Sorry for keeping you waiting.” he whispers.
Y/N smiled sleepily and says
She’s drifting off to sleep once more and Leonardo gives her a quick kiss before she resumes her peaceful breathing.
It has been a difficult day for the turtles but being able to hold her like this…made it all worthwhile.
Within moments, Leo had joined her in her slumber, still holding her in his arms.
El is used to talking herself out of a panic attack. When she feels herself freaking out, when she feels the panic rising, she calms herself down. All on her own.
It wasn’t always this way. She used to have full fledged panic attacks. The room would shrink. Her chest would tighten. She felt trapped. Unsafe. She didn’t have anyone to help her breathe, anyone to calm her down. She only had herself to rely on. So she learned to stop everything around her from moving, to count to ten, and to breathe.
When it happens now, when the panic comes flooding in, she reacts the way she always has. She handles it on her own, despite being surrounded by people who love her. She doesn’t know how to reach out for help. Sometimes this hurts them - Mike, Hopper. Joyce knows how she feels because she’s been there, she’s had anxiety and panic issues. She feels like it’s her duty to help El, but when she won’t allow it, she feels useless. So they learn to give her space, to let her manage it on her own. But they hope that maybe one day, El will be able to reach out for help. Maybe one day, she’ll learn the people around her are there for her. They’re her family.
Because a friend is someone you’d do anything for. Family is someone you’d do everything for.
AS YOU KNOW I was part of the cah group as V and well the rp went to far. i had an unpleasant time with some hurtful stuff being said just because i was V and players had this happen too. i didn’t wanna say anything but .. we got sworn at some stuff was kinda cringe worthy . the Jumin of the group kinda went too far . like way to far with some thing and upset me and any more. this started off really fun but then the chat was way to quick to keep up with and some people said some hurtful things.
pomo said this when i asked about it : "there are times when rp goes too far. next time, please be considerate of the person behind the character. just because you’re portraying a character doesn’t mean the words won’t hurt.“
and also there was ” Started out funs but then I feel attack"-Ki(mysticmessenger-reactions)
so it is not just me who felt this way . im sorry to post this so public but i know i feel personally attacked for just playing a certain character . Im very sorry but i felt like i should bring this to attention . there is getting into character and there was taking it too far.
edit : it wasnt just the jumin it was everyone at least 5 people i didnt mean to sound like i just picking on that person it was more then jumin im sorry to the jumin for singling you out it was not just u
Edit : i also understand that i acted out of character a bit and was kinda shitty at times as well . I hope we can take this all not so negativly and just as commentray i didnt me to be harsh about it its just i had people also point this out . In equaly as guitly un a sence but this is not a big deal to break up a fandom or anything we just need to talk this out . Im.sorry if i offended any one.
But yet they officially posed together. That has to mean something.
Sam posed with the hosts as well. Twice. Does that mean anything? Other than that they were all guests at the same party?
A red carpet pose together might mean something. Or it might only mean that they are in a project together- even that can be construed in various ways. And they carefully sidestepped that minefield by arriving, and being pictured, separately. So clearly there is no “official” announcement being made here. Just two people who know each other and who happen to have got invitations to the same swanky party.
But what about those interior pics? Well, those interior pics are just that. Pics of people at a party. Celebs take pics with other celebs at these things. Or with friends. Cait and Sam both had interior pics done with friends at their first Golden Globes Vanity Fair Party. What did that mean? Even celebs can be fans. Or minor celebs get a picture with a better known celeb- and then the media pics up on the pic because the more well known celeb is in it. Do you think any outlet would have been interested in getting a shot of MM, even fresh from her starring role in a Lifetime channel movie? Probably not. But a pic with Sam Heughan will sell. Maybe not as well as a pic of Matt Damon, or Brad Pitt, but you go with what you’ve got- and if what you have is some bit of access to Sam Heughan then that’s what you go with. So you get a pic. And then they will pic up your red carpet shot too. Just in case you might be someone. It’s all in who you know, or can make it look like you know.
Sam generously posed with MM and then included her in another posed shot with the Piaget reps. It was her only photo ops that I have seen from that evening other than the one that looks a bit contrived as she wedges in between Sam and his stylist in a pic included only on the stylist’s IG story. It’s not much of a victory for her for the evening but it’s a start-two official pics, and a red carpet. And both were courtesy of Sam. She and her family generously allowed use of some time at her brother’s wedding reception (but, oddly if he was truly what they are insinuating he is to her, not the sister’s -though he was free both weekends) and now it’s his turn to provide some career advancing network opportunities at a level that she would never be able to access on her own merit. It’s a relationship. Just not, I think, a romantic one. She needs to be seen, and she needs to meet with the people who might give her another chance at the sort of role that she seems to want. A movie role such as she had in Into the Woods. But such roles weren’t coming. Maybe getting her face out there with a whole different level of players will make a difference? Who knows? But it can’t hurt. And Sam is the ticket to those people. Those interior pics, just like the party they were taken at, are just work.
Warnings: a little bit of ouch, but other than that all love!
A/N: and we’ve reached the last chapter! First of all thank you so incredibly much for all the love for this fic, you have made me smile so much and I hope you enjoy the last chapter! A little fun fact for you now that the story is over, through writing this story I always listened to Photograph by Ed Sheeran, it was my muse through the entire thing, I just adore the song so much, give it a listen while you read this chapter, I promise it makes everything better. A big kiss to all of you! <3
Thwarted. That was what happened to Bucky’s grand plan of staying by your side for the rest of his life, it had been thwarted.
Steve had come to him telling him that the team had the green light to go back to the US and Bucky didn’t know how to react or what to say.
He couldn’t even remember how many years it had been since the disaster of a civil war between the Avengers and when Steve told him that they had all been pardoned for their doings, Bucky wasn’t sure he was included, but he was. The government had come to the understanding that he had control over what happened to him under Hydra and therefore nothing he did under their time fell under his responsibility. Tony was the one to call Steve and had even told him a welcome home party was waiting for them the second they would land in New York. Bucky watched as Steve walked out of his room and he had no idea how to process the information.
Sobs racked through me as I sat on my bed tissues surrounding me. My mind went though all the things that I had told him. My parents, my job, all of my feelings for Peter—or him. Tears ran down my face. How could he do that? A knock came at the window and I looked toward it seeing Peter outside in his spiderman suit.
“Y/N please.” He begged. I stood up walking toward the window. “Just listen to me—” I reached up drawing the blinds over them. “Y/N…” I heard him trail off. More sobs racked through me as I dropped on my pillow. More knocks came from the window. I swallowed leaning over starting my stereo butting on “Fuck you” by Cee Lo Green. I turned it loud, louder than normal. I closed my eyes as I continued to cry feeling sick. There was yelling outside my room and a pounding came from my door.
I hate love triangles and to this day I think the Sebastian-Marissa-Jasper triangle was the weirdest thing I’ve done. You can actually find it here somewhere, it happened shortly after I started posting this legacy.
Jasper and Marissa had a daughter: Barbara. However, they broke up and Jasper moved away. My headcanon says he moved away from Twinbrook because I never see him in town.
So a lot of my posts the past year on here have been very “depression/anxiety” focused in a vague way. I wrote this entire thing out for myself to be able to process it and move on and since I’m working on being more open about my emotions, I thought I’d post it here. If you’re crazy enough to read through this ENORMOUS thing, go ahead.
About a year ago I met a guy online through instagram. He followed me and I looked at his feed, instantly saw he was extremely handsome and had a ton of nerdy interests in common with me, so I shot him a message. We immediately got to flirting and in a few hours had exchanged numbers and other social media. We hit it off right away and I was so smitten by him that I offered to fly him to New York with a flight deal that happened to be available at the time (This sounds crazy from my point of view but I really felt like I had a very strong attraction to him and I wanted to see if anything could happen, it was worth it to me because I don’t feel like this about people often). He accepted and seemed really excited. We keep texting for a few weeks and he ends up getting a new job at a bar. One day he texts me and tells me that unfortunately because of his new job he won’t be able to visit me anymore because he can’t get the time off, but that he would pay me back (which he did). I’m crushed and dig further because I felt like there was something else, and he tells me that he’s not feeling interested in me the way we were when we first met a few weeks ago. I’m upset as this is a trend that happens to me a lot, people initially being interested and within a few weeks not finding me attractive anymore. I still don’t know why it happens.
We text a lot less in the coming weeks but he does like me as a friend so we still send funny stuff back and forth, stuff to do with our mutual interests, or just chatting about our day. Over the next few months I notice he’s getting flirty again and eventually he tells me that he wants to take that trip to NY and that he’d pay for it this time. I don’t feel like I have anything to lose and I still have feelings for him (although we’ve been chatting for 4 months or so at this point and still haven’t met) so I agree. He’s only coming for a few days because he can’t get a lot of time off, so I start to schedule tons of fun stuff for us to do and make sure he gets to see as much of the city as possible. I start to get really excited and I’m putting a ton of effort into making sure everything goes well.
About two weeks before the trip, he texts me and says he has something to tell me. He met someone and now they’re dating. He says he will still come but it would be just as friends. I’m crushed but am not ready to just let go of everything. I had already bought tickets to a broadway show as a surprise and had an amazing weekend lined up that I had spent countless hours planning. In my head I thought maybe if the trip went really well he would realize what a catch I am and choose me. The next two weeks are filled with turmoil as I watch his social media fill up with pictures and posts about his new boyfriend. The thought occurred to me over and over that he was going to bail on the trip, although he never outright said anything to make me think that so I kept hope. The night before he’s supposed to arrive he sends me a text about how it’s going to sound like he’s faking it, but he’s feeling sick. I have huge doubts and just tell him that I really really hope he makes it because I have a lot planned. The next day comes and in the morning he says he has a fever and is so sick he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to make the flight. I beg and plead for him to try, and reveal that I paid for the broadway tickets. He responds saying that he took some medication and is going to do his best. A few minutes later I get a phone call from him saying he’s lost his debit card and there’s no way for him to make it. I totally break down on the phone and tell him I won’t be able to talk to him for a while. I reach out to friends and have someone else visit me for the week to console me and do the things I had planned, and go to the musical with me. Throughout that week he tells me it was strep throat, and sends me pictures of him in the hospital and with visible scarlet fever to assure me that he wasn’t faking it. If it wasn’t for those pictures there is no way I would have believed him.
We text infrequently for the next month, but eventually he starts sending me texts about how his boyfriend is neglectful and a narcissist and doesn’t make him feel loved. I have mixed emotions as I still care about him and don’t want to see him in pain, but am still resentful that he got into a relationship only 2 weeks before coming to see me and sort of felt that he deserved for it to not work out. I bite my tongue and try to be supportive. A few more weeks and he texts me at 6am in a panic. He tells me his boyfriend physically assaulted him at a bar. I’m furious and helpless. I’m mad at his decisions but know I can’t take it out on him in this situation, and there’s nothing I can do from so far away. I try to console him and make sure he has a support system. He tells me that there’s no way he’s ever going back to this guy and that he’s blocked him on everything and had him banned from the bar he works at. I’m angry and sad for him but simultaneously feel justified that his relationship crashed and burned so spectacularly, and that he chose someone who would treat him so terribly over me. The next week he seems very shaken up and I regularly check in to ask how he’s doing. He tells me the (now ex) boyfriend is doing everything possible to get in contact with him, including sending him emails and waiting outside his apartment complex. I’m very concerned but don’t know how to help.
A week after this I notice a snapchat from him that has a person cut off that looks like his ex. I figure it must just me some other guy. A few hours later the snapchat is mysteriously gone. At this point I’m totally sure it was the guy and that they must be hanging out again. My fears are confirmed in the following days where there are more social media posts slyly showing that they are back together (Him with his boyfriends dog, him in his boyfriends car, they were friends again on Facebook). At no point does he admit to me over text that they are back together, and I stop responding entirely, angry that he hasn’t admitted this to me, concerned he’s going to be abused again, and unsure of how to bring this up.
I was in the dark for a while so I still don’t know what happened here. They did not continue to hang out or date, but I never asked for specifics.
Once it became clear they were no longer in contact, we started texting again as friends. The usual pattern happened and after a few months this time (around september) he became flirty again. He would send me thirst pics and me still finding him so attractive it was hard to resist. He talks about how he learned a lot from this past relationship and how he’s never going to make a mistake like that again. In October he hints that there’s a music festival he’s excited about in December and jokes that I should go. I say I’m actually available that weekend and would make the trip. For the next two months we text constantly and even count down the days until my visit. He seems as excited as I am and I’m really happy to finally get to meet this guy in person, even though he’s caused me so much grief. I have high hopes that when he meets me he’ll see how dedicated and thoughtful I am and recognize how well I would treat him in a relationship and all the good things I have to offer.
December comes and I land in Houston around midnight. He picks me up at the airport, it’s slightly weird at first to see each other in person but we get comfortable quick. We’re back at his place and pretty soon we start kissing and spend the night cuddling. The next few days for me feel magical. I have a stronger attraction to him than anyone else I’ve ever met, mentally and physically. We hold hands constantly and are super affectionate with each other. I have some social anxiety issues so being in a new state with someone I’ve really just met in person makes me a little reserved around his friends and in public, but I feel very comfortable with him. We go to the music festival and although the music isn’t really my taste, I have an amazing time because I’m with him. The first day I agree to try a weed edible with him (I don’t really smoke) and end up having a really bad anxiety and paranoia trip, but he stays by me the whole time and waits with me for several hours until it passes. I’m drained after this experience but we walk around, listen to a few more acts and then go home. The next day I feel a little fried and have some leftover anxiety from the experience, but am excited to spend another day together. We go to the second day of the festival and he’s super excited because a bunch of his favourites are playing this day. We split a molly between us which helped a lot with my lingering anxiety and let me loosen up and dance for a few hours as we watched his favourite artists. I have a really good time and we dance closely while kissing the whole night. He’s very sweet and seems very into me. He takes my baseball cap and turns it backwards, saying he likes it better on me this way. The artists play later than expected and by the time it’s done most of the festival has cleared out. We walk around the exhibits (it was an art + music festival) holding hands and taking cool pictures of ourselves in front of the art. We go home and have really good sex. He seems very attracted to me and reacts strongly to the smallest touch. I feel like I found my perfect match, everything meshes perfectly, our personalities fit, I’m attracted to him both in a loving way and in a sexual way and he seems to feel the same. We wake up the next day and there’s an air of sadness because we know I’m heading home the following day. We keep the day pretty low key, chilling at home. Later he invites one of his friends over and we all go out to eat. We talk about making plans for that night but we decide to chill at home and enjoy each others company before I have to leave in the morning. We spend one last night cuddling, sleeping late until we basically have to get up and go directly to the airport. He had mentioned wanting to play Pokemon so I offered to leave my nintendo DS with my Pokemon Moon on it here for him until the next time I visit and he accepts. He pays for us to park in a parking garage and walks me all the way to where I have to check in. I tell him how much I love him and assure him that I’ll fly back really soon or that he can come to new york any time. When it comes time to go through security he starts to tear up so I hold him close and ask him if I can call him my boyfriend. He says yeah. We have a long hug and I say goodbye for now.
45 minutes later I’m on the plane and he texts me that he misses me. I’m glowing, it’s been 5 years since I was in a relationship and am so happy that this trip worked out better than I could have dreamed. I’m validated that once meeting me in person he saw what we could be together and am just overwhelmed with the love I feel for him and have high hopes for our future. I’m already planning for when I can come back.
He texts me all day during my flights as usual and talks about feeling down that I’m not around anymore. For the next few days we text each other a lot, we send each other goodnights with lots of heart emojis and I feel like this long distance thing would work for me as long as I could fly down for a week every month or two. I ask him if it’s okay for me to book a flight at the end of January to come and see him, and that I can arrange to work from his apartment remotely. I tell him there’s no need to take time off, I just want to be able to spend more time around him in person and he reacts positively and says sure. Out of confidence I book the cheaper nonrefundable flights for the last week of January. I tell my mom that I’m dating someone (because she stalks me and is going to wonder why I’m flying to Texas), and being a huge gossip she tells my whole family, stalks him on Facebook and sends photos to everyone.
In the following days he texts less and less, and I start to feel like I’m the one initiating every interaction. I start to get a bit paranoid but assure myself that because the week trip went so well, he let me book another flight to see him, and he agreed to be my boyfriend, I’m just overthinking it and he probably just doesn’t want to spend all his time texting. Then two full days go by with no texts at all and I start to freak out. My mind goes through all the possibilities. I consider that it might be something else in his life that is distracting him, so I send a concerned message about how he’s been quiet and if everything is okay.
The next day I’m at the airport (I flew to my visit my family for christmas after leaving texas) to go home to New York, and while waiting to go through security with my mom and some family that came with me to the airport, I get a long and sudden text from him. The text says that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t think of me romantically, he can’t make himself think of me in a sexual way anymore, doesn’t think we’re a good personality fit, and that he sees me more as a really good friend. He says we’re very different people and that he’s attracted to more outgoing people who exude confidence and are the life of the party, and says that I am very shy and timid in public. He also talks about how me being there opened up a “slutty” phase in him and now he thinks he might be polyamorous.
I’m in total shock and panic. I’m devastated and surrounded by family. I go completely catatonic and am not able to eat my lunch. I have to tell my mom what happened while I frantically text him back trying to understand what is happening, desperate to fix it. I ask him why he didn’t lead on that he felt this way, why he let me leave my DS with him, why he let me buy the plane tickets, why he agreed to be my boyfriend, and he comes back saying he wanted me to have a good trip after the way he treated me in the past and he felt he owed me that. I’m absolutely heartbroken and can’t believe he thought this was a good idea or the right thing to do. He said he felt pressured when I asked him to be my boyfriend and didn’t want to upset me. I’m so confused because I am 100% sure he was very sexually into me, and him suddenly not being able to think of me that way seems like a lie. What I thought was a magical week was not real and what I thought was my first relationship in 5 years was completely fake and out of pity. I have to go through security and leave my mom, who is now crying because she knows how hurt I am and doesn’t know when the next time she’ll see me is. We hug, she tells me I don’t need anyone to make me happy, and I agree even though I don’t really believe it at the moment.
I continue texting, prying for answers, trying to find out if any of it was real, wanting to feel any emotional relief before my plane takes off and I’ll be without service for 2 hours. My mind is rushing a mile a minute through everything that happened and questioning how I didn’t pick up on any of his real feelings. I cry for the entire 2 hour flight.
The flight takes longer than expected and when I land I find I have missed my connection and that the alternative they booked me on requires me to spend all night in the airport in Ottawa. I’m the most emotionally drained I’ve ever been and I’m about to be pushed to my physical limit as well. I wanted to sedate myself so that I didn’t have to feel anything but I was forced to stay awake until my flight at 6:30am in an empty airport with only myself and my thoughts about what happened. I’m still unable to eat anything and I don’t feel safe sleeping in the airport. I fall asleep for an hour and have a paranoid dream about being mugged. I continuously try to text him throughout the night but my tone is getting angry about the situation and he doesn’t have anything left to say.
When it comes time to check in for my flight, the airline informs me because of the rescheduling they have no idea where my bag is and they can’t let me on the flight until it’s located. The thought of losing my belongings and possibly having to wait several more hours in the airport in this condition freaks me out and causes me to feel faint and throw up on the airport floor. I hadn’t eaten all day so it was mostly water but obviously people were concerned and staff sat me down and asked if I needed medical help and if I had any conditions. I just tell them I haven’t slept or eaten, they give me water and I pretend to be fine.
At the last minute they locate my bag and I’m able to catch my flight by a hair. I fly to New York, cab back to my apartment and get into bed by 10am, totally exhausted. As soon as I get into bed and relax I immediately start sobbing until I fall asleep and spend the next 24 hours drifting in and out of sleep.
It’s been four days since then and besides physically forcing myself out of bed a few times, I spend most of my time taking medication with drowsiness side effects so that I can sleep as much as possible. I still have no appetite and will often make it through the day on half a slice of pizza or a candy bar. I have no sex drive and can’t imagine myself ever being interested in someone else at the moment. Not having him in my life feels like I’m in withdrawal from a drug. Tomorrow is the first day of work after the holidays and I’m nervous about being able to function.
I’m trying to cut off contact with him completely but even after all this I don’t want to let go. I’m not texting him now but I want to every minute and I try to think of appropriate reasons that I could. It’s so rare for me to feel anything this strong for someone that I’m skeptical if it will ever happen again which makes me feel hopeless. And if I ever did have these same feelings for someone, it seems very likely the same rejection would happen again.
I feel like most people would think I’m crazy for being so attached to someone I only met in person for a week, but I think you’d be surprised what kind of connections can be made online with enough time and effort. Only posting this as a release and a way to document exactly what happened over the past year so I can look at it as a whole.
Edit: A few days after this he finally texted me to ask me how I was doing and apologize for how he lead me on. He seems to know he hurt me but not understand the full extent. He says he has something to tell me and that he’s been hiding his abusive relationship from me and he is still with the other guy in secret and that most of his friends don’t know about it because he’s ashamed to tell anyone. He says he’s stuck in the relationship and feels trapped with him because he keeps going back. This makes a little more sense to me and I realize he never loved me and was always just obsessed with his feelings for this other guy. It doesn’t help however, and actually makes me feel more depressed and hopeless. He gives me the same line he’s said before about how it’s over this time though and he’s cutting him out of his life. I do my usual thing where I put my problems out of sight and try to talk to him about this relationship and why he can’t get out of it if he doesn’t feel it’s healthy. He tells me that he was hoping me visiting would have helped him get over the abusive guy, but it didn’t. I’m an idiot and I know I have the flights for later in the month that he let me book, so I ask if he would be okay with me using them to come down so we could talk through everything in person so I can get the closure I need and he can answer all of my questions about the things he did to me and why he did them. He says that sounds fine to him.
The next few days he texts me a little about how the abusive ex keeps calling him and is very persistent, meanwhile I continue to spend my time in a deep depression, just trying to regain my appetite or be able to go to work. Texting is very sporadic and sparse for the next few weeks. He occasionally will message me something he’d think I’d like, we talk a little about trivial things like comics and anime but it doesn’t go anywhere. Just hearing from him gives me the endorphins I need to get by while I’m feeling so down.
Eventually one night he texts me out of the blue and says he’s realized he’s a homophobic narcissist and he has a lot to work on, and apologizes for what he did to me again. He said he realized he doesn’t usually treat people well and disappoints a lot of his friends. He talks about how he lies a lot and that he doesn’t really care about many people and that he doesn’t care about me although he wish I did. This this me very hard. Even after all this I still honestly thought he did care about me. At least in some capacity. I’m devastated.
I remind him that my plane tickets are for next week and I was going to use them to visit and talk. He says he forgot I was coming and assumed I had changed my mind and is no longer comfortable with me staying with him and doesn’t think it’s good for either of us (My flight is for an entire week because when I booked it I was hoping to spend as much time with him as possible). He tells me I’m seeming very desperate and it’s degrading to myself to still be so needy and that closure isn’t a privilege everyone gets to have. He says I’m not actually in love with him but I’m in love with the idea of being in love with him. This doesn’t resonate with me and seems very off the mark. My feelings feel very real to me. He ends up telling me that I can come but I have to get a hotel.
The conversation progresses into me digging more specifically into all the questions I have about how he could have acted that way when we met in person but actually not have been interested in me, why he agreed to be my boyfriend, why he let me buy the plane tickets, why he let me loan him my DS if he didn’t think we were ever going to meet again, and why he continued to flirt and say he missed me after I went home.
The answers are getting closer to making sense but still I’m shocked that someone would lie to me like that just to make a situation easier or less awkward. He did not feel the same spark for me that he felt for his abusive boyfriend (although he claims to not talk to him anymore at this point and that he’s no longer hung up on him).
I tell him I wish he did not do these things and how I’m still struggling to eat and live my life through the depression several weeks later. This makes him say that me reacting this way makes him even more sure that he made the right decision to not be with me and that he doesn’t need another guy in his life with issues that he needs to check up on.
I become determined to go back to Houston on my own terms and have a good time there without him. When I arrive I let him know I’m there to plan a time for us to have a talk in person but I know he doesn’t want to see me even though I’m there for an entire week. I go out to a few bars and meet some people. I’m feeling better than I have in a few weeks and have a little bit of confidence in myself for being able to make this trip.
During one of the first days he tells me we can meet up to have dinner. I’m waiting outside and when I see him pull up I immediately feel very overwhelmed by seeing him. We order and sit for a few hours while I uncomfortably try to get any closure or sense out of his actions from him. He reveals to me that he is back with the abusive boyfriend and actually just came from his apartment before meeting me. He says he loves him and they have great chemistry and he doesn’t see the relationship ending any time soon. At this point something in me breaks and I realize he’s just never going to get out of this and although it hurts, there is no getting through to him about this and he will always go back no matter how confidently he tells me he won’t. The entire time he has a strange mood about him, as if he’s trying purposely to act mean so that I won’t like him anymore. It feels stilted and very different from the guy I spent a week with the month before. I get the feeling he is frustrated with me and just ready for me to be out of his life so he doesn’t have to deal with me anymore. When our dinner is over I basically have the answers I was looking for, but they’re pretty much as bad as they could have been. His feelings were fake, he let me book flights, etc. because he didn’t know how to tell me not to and felt awkward about it, he agreed to be my boyfriend because he felt pressured, he was obsessed with his “ex” the entire time and could never really devote any actual love to me because of it, and he kept me around for so long because he liked that I always gave him the attention he craved.
As we’re leaving, the finality of the situation makes me start to cry and as he’s driving me back to my hotel I’m in a full hysterical sob. He drops me off and I feel all too aware that I won’t ever see him again.
It’s been almost a month now and we don’t really have any contact. I haven’t been sending him anything and he hasn’t sent anything to me. I don’t know how he’s doing, or where he is with the abusive guy. I don’t know if he thinks about me at all or if he’s glad to be rid of me and has totally moved on. Despite still feeling upset about this, this past month after returning from the second Houston trip I’ve been doing very well and am back on track with my life better than ever. I’m working through my anxiety issues, taking tons of opportunities I would have been too anxious to agree to, meeting lots of new people and catching up with old friends, I got a raise at work, I’ve been working out regularly and putting on some mass, discovering new music and pursuing new interests I was afraid to try previously. I’ve been learning to meditate and I should be starting therapy very soon.
So that’s the very very very very long story of why I’ve been up and down all year and how I’m doing currently.
things that happened at the mcdonalds i work at today:
- grill had to prepare 55 hamburgers and 55 fries to donate to the naacp while also filling regular orders - shake machine broke - snobby girl started yelling at the store manager because our burritos “aren’t big enough” - headseat machine broke - as in: literaly all of our drive-thru headseats ran out of battery in the middle of the afternoon rush - the entire state of california was there
Is it just me or has anyone else had it happen where you get hormonal, start crying about something stupid, and then suddenly every single thing from your life you’ve evercried about, wanted to cry about, or needed to cry about comes rushing back to you and you’re left Kim Kardashian crying as fucking Niagara Falls pours down your face??? Anyone???