last friday night i cried because of

Tour Diary: The 1975 in Allen (15.4.17)

A ridiculously long post documenting my experience seeing this band again. It took place at the Allen Event Center, with the openers Colouring and Pale Waves. This is the first show on their last US tour before breaking for album three, and I think it was the best show I’ve been to yet. 

Keep reading


Real recovery. Last night I had cherry cheesecake and I savored every last bite. And the thought of purging only crossed my mind once or twice. On Friday I nearly cried over a cup of yogurt and I ate it anyway. In therapy I was able to talk about things other than behaviors… we were able to actually delve into deeper issues instead of going over what I could do instead of purging. At this moment I hate how full I feel and I cannot for the life of me think of a single reason why I should recover because my eating disorder doesn’t affect anyone except me. At the same time giggling a little because I’m imagining myself recreating Beyoncé’s pregnancy announcement with my bloated belly. Recovery is treating me good you guys. It’s messy and I hate it. And it’s all good.

mdebunny  asked:

Once you get this, respond with five things that make you happy, then send it to the last ten people in your activity! have a wonderful day! :) :)


[previously seen here I, II, III]

  1. D&D! My friends and I just started playing… Friday night. But it was so much fun that we’re playing again today, hopefully.
  2. My car, creatively named BB.
  3. ~ALONE TIME~ (aka “Kit watches Pride & Prejudice or listens to Great Comet of 1812 and cries into a bowl of popcorn, surrounded by cats, while her boyfriend is at work”)
  4. Star Wars!
  5. Avocado on anything. I love aguacates. ♥
Weeping Angel

Prompt: Liam accidentally attacks the reader on the full moon and feels awful about it

Warnings: violence/gory-ish. Liam attacks the reader on a full moon. Also, this ends on a small cliffhanger because I didn’t know how to end it. Sorry!

“The doctor said that you’re doing better.”

           I nodded, licking over my dry lips. “I’m feeling better.” Lydia gave me a small smile, whispering, “That’s good,” as she stroked my hair out of my eyes. “Everyone’s really worried about you, you know.”

           “Everyone?” I raised an eyebrow, nearly breathless.

           Lydia’s red lips tightened. “Yes, everyone.” She sighed, reaching down to dig through her bag. “I took the liberty of picking up some of the schoolwork you’ve been missing. I can write for you, if you want.”

           Laughing, I said, “It’s my leg that’s broken, not my arm.”

           “Still…” Lydia placed a clipboard and a few colorful pens in my lap. “Those scratches look like they hurt pretty badly.” I kept my eyes fixed on the math worksheet. I knew what she was looking at: the bright red marks covering my right arm. Underneath the itchy hospital gown, there were even more across my rib cage and stomach.  

           Cautiously, I asked, “How’s Liam?”

           She let out a breezy giggle. “I can’t believe you’re even asking about him. You should hate him right now. Well…” She made a face. “He hates himself enough for the both of you, I guess.” Lydia admired her freshly painted fingernails. “He’s… taking it hard… which is ridiculous, considering he’s not the one who got attacked.”

           “Don’t talk about him like that.” I was quick to scold her. My chest ached slightly from how hard my heart pounded at the sound of his name. In a much softer voice, I mumbled, “It wasn’t his fault.”

           “Oh, sure it was. You don’t have to defend him. He knows what he did- all of us know.”

           “It was the full moon. It was out of his control.”

           “Y/N, do you hear yourself?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Fine. Believe what you want. But the fact is, Liam lost control and practically mauled you on a full moon.” I flinched at her acidic tone. Lydia sighed again. “I’m sorry. Let’s change the subject. You probably don’t want to talk about this.”

           “No, I want to; I always want Liam.” My words came out slightly garbled. I yawned, and Lydia chuckled, “I guess the medicine is kicking in. I’ll be back tomorrow. Get some rest, sweetie.” With that, she pecked my forehead and left, heels clicking against the tile, as I drifted off into unconsciousness.


           “Liam, stop, this isn’t you.” I pleaded, frantically crawling backwards. Liam growled. His eyes glowed like fire in the dark forest. He looked sinister, deadly.

           My hands brushed over roots, and suddenly my back was pressed up against a tree. I could hear Scott yelling in the distance. Part of me wondered if he’d get here soon enough.

           With a snarl, Liam stepped on my left leg, crushing the bones in my calf. I couldn’t even scream. The pain was so crippling, so agonizing… all I could do was let my mouth fall open and squeeze my eyes shut. This had to be a dream. Liam wouldn’t hurt me. This couldn’t be real. This pain couldn’t be real.

           There was a blossoming pain racing down my right arm and all over my midsection. My throat was burning, and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was because I was screaming. Wide yellow eyes met my tear-filled gaze. I shut my eyes. If I was about to die, I didn’t want this to be my last memory of Liam. I didn’t want to see him like this. I made myself picture him in his dark bedroom last Friday night, puzzling over the new video game I had got him, eagerly discovering the controls. I remembered two weeks ago when milk came out of his nose during lunch. I thought of the last full moon when he cried over the rabbit he had killed, and I rocked him in my arms until he fell asleep.

           “Oh, no… Y/N.” My eyes flashed open. Liam was my Liam again, complete with his beautiful blue eyes. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” His hot tears fell onto my face and neck. I wanted to tell my weeping angel that it was okay, that everything was going to be alright, but I was so tired…

           Gasping, I shot up in the hospital bed. The blinds had been drawn, but moonlight still trickled in through the cracks. The night-shift workers were quiet as they passed my room; only the squeak of their sneakers alerted their presence.

           I grabbed my water bottle off the table with shaking hands and slowly unscrewed the lid. I was just about to press the rim to my lips when I noticed a dark figure in the corner of the room, seated rigidly in one of the chairs. I recognized the set of his shoulders and the shape of his face in a heartbeat.

           “Liam!” I whispered. “You’re here! You’re actually here.” I was prepared to rip out the stupid IV and run over to jump in his lap because damn, I had missed him. Before I could even finish wrestling with the stupid tape, he was by my side. His hand hovered over mine, as if he was hesitant to touch me. Finally, his large, rough hand tenderly wrapped around my wrist. I shivered at the contact.

           Liam didn’t say anything at first. I watched his face, waiting for him to explain where he had been the past few days, but he remained quiet. His eyes were trained on my scarred skin. I chewed on my lip and looked to the place we were touching. Black lines ran up his arm. Oh. That must be why I’ve been feeling better. He’s been taking my pain away. “Have you been doing this every night?” I asked, although I already knew the answer was yes.

           “You should go back to sleep.” He muttered. “You need rest.”

           “No.” I argued. “I need you. And lately, you haven’t been around. I don’t want to sleep. I want to be with you. Talk to you. Anything.”

           He sighed. “Why?” I scrunched my brow. “How do you still want me around after what I did to you? I could’ve…” He gulped, and then finished in a broken voice, “I could’ve killed you, Y/N.”

           My genius reply was, “But you didn’t.”

           Liam just rolled his eyes. “I could have. In that moment, I wanted to. So, so badly. And yet here you are, heart racing with excitement at the very sight of me. It makes me sick.”

           I stared at the end railing of the bed as I said, “That wasn’t you.”

           He snorted. “Yeah? How can you be so sure?”

           “Your eyes.” I murmured.


           “Your eyes. They were golden. That means you’re in your… wolf form… right? But human-you has blue eyes. Beautiful, beautiful, blue eyes. That’s how I can differentiate. My Liam’s eyes are blue. He’s the Liam I fell in love with. Wolf Liam has gold eyes. I accept him, but I’m also aware that the things he does aren’t necessarily what my Liam would do.”

           “You’re crazy.”

           “No, I’m not.”

           “You must be, if you think that.” He paused. “Get some sleep, Y/N.”

           “Fine- but only if you stay with me.”

           “I shouldn’t allow myself to be anywhere near you right now.”

           “I guess I’m not sleeping then.”

           “Alright, suit yourself. I’m leaving.”

           “Will you come back?”

           “Maybe. When you’re asleep, just to make sure… you’re okay.”

           “Okay. Be safe. I love you.”

           Another pause. Then, breathlessly, “I love you too. So much.”


           Going back to school was weird. People I didn’t even know came up to me to ask how I was feeling. Everyone thought that I was a survivor of some crazy animal attack. I wasn’t used to the attention. To be honest, it made me paranoid, and anxious. But it was nothing compared to the uneasy ball in my stomach whenever I saw Liam.

           We hadn’t talked at all since the night in the hospital, and to be perfectly honest, it was killing me inside.

           I sat with Lydia and Stiles at lunch. I tried to laugh at all of the dumb jokes Stiles made, and comment on the dresses Lydia was showing me on her phone, but I kept spacing out. It was like I could feel Liam staring at me from across the lunchroom.

           “I absolutely love this one. Look at the color! It’s such a pretty coral, and-”

           “It kind of reminds me of that anemone Nemo lived in.”

           “…I can see that, Stiles, sure…”

           “I mean, look, with the ruffles on the skirt here-”

           I felt bad for interrupting, but I couldn’t help it. “Is he looking?” I struggled to keep my voice quiet. Stiles gave me a sympathetic grimace before craning his neck to peer over my shoulder.

           “No, he’s not… well, now he is… I think he heard me…”

           Gulping, I turned around. Liam was sitting with Scott and Kira, who were both trying desperately to talk to him. When I met his gaze he looked away.

           The slamming of a tray beside me caused me to jump. It was Malia, and she did not look happy. “This is getting ridiculous.” She stated, plopping down beside me. “You guys need to talk to each other before I kill you both myself.”

           “Progress,” Stiles muttered, “considering that she probably would have done so already.”

           Malia rolled her eyes. “Y/N, seriously. If you love him so much, and still want to be with him, then go talk to him. Say something. Anything.”

           I sighed. “I’ve tried. Every time I say something, he goes into self-loathing mode, and I can’t snap him out of it. It’s like no matter what I say, he still believes that he needs to stay away from me.”

           Stiles pursed his lips. “That’s probably because he almost killed you… I mean, if I almost killed someone, I’d want them to stay away from me.”

           Lydia smiled sarcastically. “Stiles, sweetie? Not helping.”

           “Right. Sorry. Well, if you really want a guy’s perspective-”

           Malia cut him off with a look. “She never asked for a guy’s perspective.”

           Stiles threw his hands up, eyes widening. “Okay, well, no one was saying anything, and-”

           “Shut up!” Lydia slapped her palms down on the table. “He’s coming over here. No one say anything.”

           “Why do I feel like I’m in a messed up Nicholas Sparks novel?” Malia kicked Stiles underneath the table. We all waited silently, ignoring the buzzing of other students around us. I could feel his presence behind me, although he stopped walking a few feet away.

           “Y/N?” Liam’s voice was huskier than I remembered, which made me think he’d been crying. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”