the-reylo-void presents: “Things I Wish I’d Understood as an Anti”
So as most of you know, I have a more personal connection to anti-shipping than most: for about two years, I was arguably the nastiest and most vicious anti in my fandom, so much so that I gained a certain level of infamy for it.
Starting to ship Reylo was a wakeup call the likes of which I’d never encountered before — not only did it cause me to examine my own past behavior and confront the extremely difficult revelation that I’d been the villain all along, but it also made me think about anti-shipping as a whole, and the things I wish I had understood when I was knee-deep in that mindset.
1. People’s enjoyment of things that hurt you is not blithe mockery of your pain. It is not a personal slight. You are allowed to be hurt by something. You are not allowed to belittle, degrade, and shame others for interacting with it. You are not that important, and your pain is not a weapon.
2. The moment you commit yourself to a movement devoted to hatred, you have ceded the moral high ground. You have gone to the Dark Side. You are not fighting the good fight. You are an emotional terrorist actively attempting to break people down for disagreeing with you.
3. You also cede the right to be a victim. No one deserves to be suicide baited or doxxed, and neither do you. However, by aligning yourself with hatred, by actively harming others and laughing about it, you forfeit your right to be upset and morally outraged when you receive hate, when others comment in disagreement with your posts, when you are cast as a villain. You are not being bullied. You are receiving back just a taste of the pain you have caused others.
4. You. Are. Miserable. You really are. Happy, fulfilled people don’t marinate themselves in hatred. They don’t drink acid and spit it at others. You’re so desperate to avoid looking at yourself and so afraid of what you’ll see there that you’re directing all of that hatred outwards. You found a group of people who like something that makes you angry, and it’s so easy to attack them, to hurt them because you’ve convinced yourself that they’re “bad” somehow and they deserve it. But it’s not about them. It’s about you. It’s about all those dark things you hear at night. It’s the fear that you’re worthless. And it’s the high you get, the ego boost every time someone cheers you on for attacking the “bad” shippers. It’s the feeling that you’re so smart, you’re so popular, you’re so loved and you’re so, so right for everything you’re doing.
But those people aren’t there for you at night. They won’t be there when your world falls apart. All that’s left is you, and your misery, and the desperate need to make someone else hurt for it because you can’t handle it.
5. And most importantly: you’re wrong. You are wrong. Your thought process is wrong. Your behavior is wrong. Everything that you are doing as you torture and harm others and convince yourself that you’re morally justified IS. WRONG.
One day you’re going to realize that, and you’ll choke on it.
And if you did that a thousand times, it still wouldn’t be equal to all of the harm you caused.
And you can distract and deflect and justify all you want. In the end, all of those people who cheered you on will be gone. Your popularity will be gone. And all you’ll have is yourself, and every ounce of misery and self-hatred you tried and failed to run from, that you drilled into others, and the realization that even though you thought you were the hero of your fandom, in reality, you were the monster you were trying so hard to protect everyone from.
Prinxiety ship, tickles of course. I just had a lil ~inspiration~ and really needed to write! Thought I’d submit it in. Hope you like it! ~Bun
Prompt; A pun from Morality dooms a friend.
Morality squeaked as Logic ended their round of Word games, hiding his blushing faced. Logic pushed up his glasses, hiding a smirk. They were sat on the floor facing one another and had been going back and forth like so for a while, Prince quietly observing while he pet a dozing Anxiety.
“That’s not fair, you took me by surprise with that!”
“Isn’t that the point of they game?”
“No! Well, yes, but not how you did that!!”
“How about we start again and you can demonstrate how I’m supposed to win. If you can. I’ll even let you start.”
“I can’t think of a word now, you’ve fogged up my brain!”
Prince chuckled at the two, finding their jokey bickering quite sweet and amusing. Logic glanced up, acknowledging him.
“How about you give us a word to start with, Roman?”
He stretched, disturbing the dark figure on his lap, who grunted half heartedly. Prince ponderes for a second, then smiled.
“You already said the perfect word! Roman.”
“Of course you’d go for yourself.”
Roman chuckled lightly. “What? Is it not good enough?”
“I guess I could work with that… Empire.”
“Ah like the Roman empire! I see what you did there, that was almost pun worthy!”
“It was not.”
They carried on, Prince giggling at the two. Anxiety yawned and stretched, unable to carry on his slumber with all the ruckus.
“Are you guys seriously arguing again…? It’s impossible for peace with you two around. What is it even about this time?”
Logic looked up at the sleepy side.
“The Roman Empire.”
“…Why do I feel like you started this?”
Anxiety stared at Prince with accusing eyes, poking him in the ribs. He gave a small yelp, falling away from Anxiety.
“Oh my goodness, we just witnessed the rise and fall of the Roman Empire! Hehehe!” Morality chortled. Anxiety smirked, peering down at his lover with danger in his eyes. Prince raised his hands up, eyes widening in panic as he realised he just revealed a huge weakness that Anxiety seemed to want to use against him.
“Wait, I didn’t mean to start it! They asked for a word, all I did was give them one!”
Anxiety raised a single finger, waving it above Prince.
“And you just had to be witty about it. You could have said any word, but no, it has to be you. I’m sure they’d still be playing their game quietly if you didn’t say your own name.”
“No! Right, guys? Heheh, you’d have gotten bored by now!”
Logic fiddled with his tie, in thought.
“Hmmm. No. I very much like Word games, and it’s easy to entertain Morality. We probably could have gone on much longer.”
Morality nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Anxiety suddenly poked Prince, making him squeak and pay attention.
“See? And this is what happens when you wake a sleeping dragon, Princey. You fall.”
With that he dug in. Prince let out an ear ringing squeal as Anxiety skittered his fingertips up his sides. He shot his hands down to protect him, but the darker trait was surprisingly fast. Every time Prince thought he had managed to protect a spot, Anxiety’s hand was somewhere else in an instant. If he tried to protect his tummy Anxiety attacked his side, if he protected his sides he skittered up to his ribs, and so on. He waved a hand at the other too desperately.
“Well, if you’re such a strong, skilled prince, you should have the ability to protect yourself, or pry Anxiety off of you, correct? You shouldn’t need Our help, Morality and I don’t know the first thing about combat.”
Prince shook his head laughing wildly as Anxiety found a sweet spot below his ribs and exploited it without hesitation.
“Aaaawwww, You’re laugh is so cute! And he’s blushing, aw look Logan, he’s blushing!”
Prince tried to turn his head, wanting to hide his face. The knowledge of his blush was only making it worse, especially as Morality had a slight teasing tone in his voice. His head was pushed back towards the others, however, as Anxiety started a cruel onslaught of tickly nibbles and kisses along Prince’s neck. Anxiety would huff every now and again, as if it was wasting his breath, but really it was to send a tickly blow at Prince’s sensitive ears. To make matters worse, Prince’s body still buzzed with the ghost of Anxiety’s intense tickle attack there, but at least Prince could regain breath through his giggling.
“Ahahahanx! Pleheheaaase, I’m sorrryyyyy!”
“Mmmnnoo. I don’t think you really are.” Anxiety mumbled through Prince’s skin, sending ticklish wave across his neck.
“I ahahaham! I swear! Pleheheheease, it tickles sohoho bahahad!”
“mmmmnmnmnmnmnmmmnnoo, can’t be that bad. You’re only giggling.”
He tilted his head back in defeat and surrendered himself to the stream of giggles that plagued him. Anxiety hid his smirk behind more kisses, being sure to completely cover all the skin he can reach. As Prince’s giggles faded it turndd to content humming, enjoying the closeness of Anxiety, and the warmth of his breath against his neck.
“It appears the Prince’s weakness is neck kisses. We better keep Anxiety on hand if Prince is ever to turn to villainy.”
Prince realised how the other two didn’t restart their game, and the fact he was the centre of attention during Anxiety’s tickle torture made the crimson on his cheeks more noticeable.
“AWWWWW, he’s as red as a rose!! Who knew Princey could be so cute??”
“You should probably go turn the heating down, Patty. According to Prince’s face, it’s far too hot in here.”
“Shut up, smartypants!“
“I find that incredibly rude, Anxiety control your boyfriend.”
Anxiety muttered “K” into Prince’s neck, and took a deep breath.
Prince shrieked, latching onto Anxiety’s shoulder and pushing him away, laughing hysterically. Anxiety just watched him, yawning as if tickling his lover had tired Him out instead of Prince. He gently pushed Prince’s arms away, and they fell, weakened from the brutal attack. Anxiety laid down ontop on Prince, his head against his chest, listening to his fluttering heartbeat.
“If you move too much I will tickle your sides. I’m in perfect range to do it.”
Prince lent his head back so his slowly fading giggling wouldn’t disturb his tormentor, and put a hand against their back. And soon, the same hand was rubbing soothingly as Anxiety once again napped the afternoon away with Prince while the other two traits carried on with their Word games, the peace restored.
UF, HT, and SF reacting to their s/o who is a saint. A really good pure person.
He’s worried he’ll taint you somehow because he doesn’t really think of himself as a good person, but appreciates the positivity and kindness you bring to him and to the world around you.
He’s super protective of you because he doesn’t want others taking advantage of your sympathetic nature, especially in his world. He feels like he doesn’t have to put up a front around you like he does with everyone else, including his brother, and it takes less time for him to feel comfortable around you. He returns all the kindness and affection you give him in full.
Doesn’t understand it. Really, he doesn’t. He hasn’t met someone like you, not even close. Well, you remind him of one person he knows, or knew, but…In his world where everyone is trying to survive, morals have gone by the wayside, but despite all that you still show people MERCY. He doesn’t know how to react to your goodness at first, so he just stares at you blankly whenever you say something nice to him. Eventually he works his way up to a ‘thank you,’ but it takes time. He hardly ever lets you out of the house for your own safety, so he’s not worried about other monsters using your kindness against you.
Absorbs your kindness like a sponge. He is SO affection-starved, he’s practically sobbing from joy the first time you compliment him. He sees his old self in you, and desperately wants to show you that side of him from now on.
Isn’t good with words, so he gives you surprise hugs and kisses in passing to let you know that he appreciates how sweet you are. In public he snarls at any monster who dares to come near you.
He thinks it’s a blessing that he found someone like you in a world like his, even if you weren’t originally from there. Goodness knows he needs all the kindness and affection he can get. He admires how nice and patient you are with other people despite the fact that they may not treat you with the same respect. He pretty much lets you do your thing, but he keeps an eye out for potential threats.
*I wrote this post on the 16th of October, for the record!*
Hey People of Earth!
So just like in the post I wrote up in January when I finished my seventh novel, this is kind of nuts to say, and I didn’t think I’d be writing this for another month, but uh.
I finished my eighth book.
I’m going to quote past me in that particular post (which you can read HERE) because if this isn’t scary accurate, I dunno what is:
So I kind of made a stupid, somewhat fleeting goal this past Friday, as I usually do. And that was to finish this book at all costs.
It doesn’t *really* surprise me that that I finished my seventh novel, and then my eighth under the same parameters, lol. (Both were finished on Sunday nights too, I believe?)
I genuinely can’t believe this book is over. It’s been eight months of writing this novel (HA eight months for my eighth book) and I can say I’m genuinely so sad it’s over. I walked around today feeling like I lost an important part of myself which is really dramatic seeming as though I just finished the book, but I hope someone out there relates.
I started this book right after finishing my seventh novel (book four in this series), and I’ll be honest–I was so scared about writing this book. Book seven gave me a really hard time, and I almost thought I’d made a mistake in a) continuing this story and b) taking it in the direction I did. I couldn’t evade fear when writing this novel. Starting it took me a while because it was so nerve-wracking to think it could be as much of a struggle as the last. I didn’t want to fail because I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to pull myself out of that rut, and then end up with an unfinished series.
Annnnnnd then I started my Doing the Write Thing updates, and all of that worry faded a bit. I started DtWT at a little under 10k words, and reached a little under 160k through that series. It kept me accountable. It excited me, and more than anything, motivated me. I know I mentioned this in DtWT #61, but thank you again for supporting that series so much, and for reading those posts. Genuinely, it means a lot to share my work with you, and to see my work improve as each post passes. I really don’t know if I would’ve finished this novel without that series. It really kicked me into the gear of writing again, and gahhhh, thank you again.
FOSTERED #5 houses some of my best work, but most importantly, taught me so, so much, and so, here I bring to you, eight things finishing my eighth novel taught me.
1. I really care about writing.
This is my eighth book, and I can confidently say this is the only one in which I cared about the writing from start to finish. (Sounds strange, but I’ll explain.)While writing is a lot of things, at its core, writing is writing, and it took me eight books to really immerse myself in words and enjoy using them as tools to create something beautiful. I crave beautiful prose—a desire I didn’t really feel until writing this book. Making sentences read and sound like art is what I strive for now.
From books 1-6, writing wasn’t my top priority. Telling a story no matter the quality was my priority, and while that isn’t wrong, I think working with that mindset for so long wasn’t becoming enough for me. I needed to re-evaluate, and really focusing on the craft of writing, rather than storytelling was what I needed. Of course, writing also includes good storytelling, but I feel, looking back on it, that until halfway around book seven, I didn’t even think about the writing. I didn’t edit it all that much, and most importantly, didn’t care about writing. I liked words, yeah, and enjoyed creating the random nice sentence here and there, but I didn’t view it as something I could use to create art. Now, good writing means a lot to me, and while I don’t think my writing is perfect, and could use improvement, I’m so happy with the improvement I’ve made and the love of actual writing I’ve procured start-to-finish through it. :)
2. Sometimes acceptance takes time.
Book four of this series (my seventh novel) took me a very, very long time to accept, and even after I’d written it, I wasn’t confident in the route I’d taken it. I still had the same worries when writing book five and it took a whole lot of crying to realize that I’m very proud of how these last two books turned out. I’m an emotional person, but don’t often show my emotions, so it’s sort of funny looking back how much I cried when writing this book, HA. I had a lot of worries about this novel, and my anxiety was eating me alive every time I wrote it. That was my issue in the beginning, but I found, the more time went on in writing this book, the more I accepted it, and the more I grew to really love it. So, if you’re in a position like me, and you’re seriously not feeling your book, sometimes time is the best remedy.
3. Moments like these are the ones you need to cherish.
When I was writing the last paragraph or so of this book, I got really emotional (lol how do I say that without sounding melodramatic). I didn’t cry or anything, but it felt like I was losing something. It was bittersweet. I’ve never felt this way before when I’ve finished a novel. It’s honestly usually been me moving onto the next book the same day or the next day, or feeling content.
But this… was something else. It was letting go of something I loved so much. I learned through this book that every time you write your book is time you should cherish. It’s something you spend a chunk of your life on. Moments happen around your book, and your book is there with you to experience them. This book in particular holds such a strong place in my heart because it gave me–as cheesy as it sounds lol rip–some new hope.
I learned to love the book I write when I write it even if it’s a pain. To cherish my time with this book, and to take my time. It hurt to finish it, honestly, I guess it’s particularly angsty for me to say I feel this grief for something that hasn’t left me. I’m so glad it’s done, but it was like closing the door to a chapter I didn’t want to end. It had to end in that spot, rightfully so, but I wanted to hang onto it for as long as I could. I genuinely appreciate every moment I had to write this book, looking back. And I’m so happy I learned so much through it.
4. Taking your time isn’t a bad thing.
This sort of bounces off that last one, but this is a lesson I learned the hard way. My average drafting time before I wrote my seventh book was 3 months. This book, as I mentioned, took me eight months, and before then, the longest it’d taken me to write a novel was six months, and that was the hardest book I’d ever written. A big issue I had when I was writing book four in this series was that I felt as if taking three months longer than my average to draft was a telling sign that I was struggling with the book. I can pretty much say writing this novel was a bit of a breeze (it had its moments, but overall), and taking my time helped in terms of quality. A disclaimer, the time it takes to write a book varies from writer to writer, so this is completely personal, but I feel like taking a little longer writing this book realllyyyyyyy amped it up in the prose department.
Not to roast past me, but yooooo my older books lacked a lottttttttt of literary merit, like where is the good writing cuz I see none, lol. Not to say this book is amazing and the writing is excellent, but I do see a substantial improvement from my older stuff. So yes, initially when I started writing this book I was keen on finishing it in three months and rushing it so I could just be done and write something else. But as time went on, I realized that there is no rush. Even though I constantly feel at rush in my life (for mental health reasons I don’t want to get into now, but if you’re curious, let me know!), I learned to take it slow. Enjoy the writing process, and create something at the end of the day, regardless of how long it takes.
5. I’m growing up.
A common question I posed while writing this book to myself and to my sister was well where did all the fun times go? Books 1-3 in this story are pretty juvenile—more banter between characters, ‘missions’, and so on, but as I aged, I found those things dried up and turned into just straight melancholy? (lol) I don’t have many if any fun times in book five, not in the sense I defined fun times as at least in the past. This series has spanned five books, and three years of my life, so I’ve done a lot of growing up since writing the first one. Its message and morals have gone from super obvious to pretty ambiguous, and the lines of morality have been blurred quite a bit (which I enjoy incorporating into my writing now). Right and wrong aren’t as easily spotted (and tbh this book is totallllyyyyy not suited for a YA audience lol content is hella graphic but), and a lot of it is rooted in the darkest corners of the human mind. I don’t know if 13-year-old me would’ve expected these books to wind up in this path, but 16-year-old me is cool with where it is. I left a lot of me in these books, and pretty much grew up with them. It’s strange to have captured so much growth of myself personally in these novels, but this is already something I’ve learned to cherish.
6. I might actually be a true Pantser (but we’ll see)
So if any of you have been following this blog since the good ol’ 2015 days, it’s common knowledge that I made it clear I was a Pantser. I pantsed everyyyythiiiiingggg. In recent years, I’ve decided to start outlining projects I plan on publishing (for the most part, excluding ALANNIS) just so I can see what I’m getting into before I start. The FOSTERED series, since it’s all personal stuff, isn’t going to be published. I pants these books, but occasionally, and I found this happened a lot more with book five, I’ll write up ‘scene screenplays’ which are basically just the bones of a scene.
OH did I find out that writing with a guideline does noooottttt work for me. I’m not going to say anything here is permanent, but I pretty much realized my writing with my outline VS without one is drastically different… I’m not actually happy about this discovery to be honest, as I’ve already started outlining a couple projects, and the struggle was so real when writing with an outline for this novel. I really do hope this is not the case, and was just subjective to this book, but yes, this was a major lesson I picked up on when writing this particular book (and I reallllllllyyyyyyyy hope this changes)!
7. I like writing really sad, dark things
This is sorta morbid, I’m sorry, but I’m really into writing all things dark and upsetting and overall, enjoy a darker tone in my writing. I noticed, if I had any ‘happier’ scene, it’d take me a little longer to write/I had more trouble writing it. Don’t know what that says about me, but as someone who is sort of naturally on the darker side (edgy af the edge is real), it makes sense that I do enjoy the not so pleasant sides of the mind, and life. Or, I’m just really angsty, and angst (poetic angst in this book, I’ll say) is all you need. Love is all you need more like angst is all you need.
I don’t think there’s anything particularly wrong with enjoying writing darker things, and I noted that I often struggle writing joy. Honestly this is just sad, lol. (But I mean look at my boi Edgar, he wrote lots of dark things and I mean that’s my dude now speaking of Edgar, the epigraph of this novel [which I’m including, even if the others don’t because epigraphs are aesthetic goals] is an Edgar quote and Edgar is my bro.)
8. I love this book so much, and if I could go back and tell myself I would have when I started it, I would.
I worried a lot when I started this novel. I worried it would fail, that it would get nowhere, that it would end unfinished, that I’d taken it the wrong route, that it would take too long to write, that I wouldn’t enjoy what I was writing, that the plot was dumb, that I focused on the wrong things, that the first chapter wasn’t strong enough, and a whole other laundry list of worries pretty common between writers. I really would go back to my past self and tell her not to worry. To tell her that just because she wrote this book and said she wouldn’t, doesn’t mean the product would be shitty. I’m genuinely proud of this novel, and I don’t know if I’ve said that in a long time. I’m happy I wrote it. Happy I poured eight months of my life into it, and most importantly, am happy it taught me so many valuable lessons. I’m happy I got to connect with you on another level through it, and happy I carried it with me through this stage of my life. It saw my hatred, and my worst moments, my great moments, my worry, and every other emotion I also tried to share on here. Books are books, but this one felt like a friend. I’m sad to lose my friend now, but I’m thankful for the time we spent together. This got all sappy again, but yes. Thank you, book. I will miss writing you, lol.
So that’s it for today’s post. I had a blast writing this. It’s always a nice reflective period to go back in time and really point out what exactly I learned through this journey. I think this novel shaped me a lot as a writer, and I’m happy to move into other projects without it, because I feel like I know a lot more than I did before. Thank you for being on this journey with me, and for reading through everything that happened in these last eight months. I truly appreciate everything you give me, and couldn’t express my thanks enough.
Aaaaand before I leave, a mega thanks to my dudes who continuously supported this journey: @sarahkelsiwrites, @sssoto and @shaelinwrites for listening, encouraging, and teaching me so many things about writing.
eric trump Says I’m Not a People Because I’m a Democrat
sean hannity was interviewing eric trump about who knows what. During that interview, the little prince eric said the following:
You know, I’ve never seen hatred like this. They’re not even people. It’s so, so sad. I mean, morality is just gone. Morals have flown out the window. We deserve so much better than this as a country, and you know, it’s so sad, you’ve seen the Democratic Party, they’re imploding. They’re imploding. They have no message, you see the head of the DNC, who is a total wackjob, there’s no leadership there. And so, what do they do? They become obstructionists because they have no message of their own. They have no solid candidates of their own, they lost the election that they should have won because they spent seven times the amount of money than my father spent. They have no message, so what do they try and do? They try and obstruct a great man, they try and obstruct his family, they come after us viciously, and it’s truly, truly horrible.
Mark Hamill, aka Luke Skywalker, decided to post this on his Twitter account, using the last clause of little prince eric’s statement as the springboard:
I really do like Akame ga Kill’s brand of morals and ideals though. It would have been easy to make the main characters in a story like this completely justify the things that they do and turn everything into a very black and white, uninteresting story but everyone openly admits that they’re probably not very good people who won’t live long lives and will face their own special retribution in hell. It’s just that someone needs to shoulder that burden in order for the common person to longer be held captive by their own country. So if there’s something to say about the lengths they’re all willing to go to so that people they’ve never meet can be happy then it’s undeniable who the heroes here are, even if they all have body counts higher than some armies do.
Tbh, why would moral swap Hancock even be in good neighbor? I feel like moral swap would have taken over the diamond himself with his ghoul friends because he was tired of being stepped on or looked down on. (I feel like moral swap would have gone into that chem phase earlier in life too.) Maybe renamed it something wicked like "the grave diamond" and painted the walls black just to spite what people used to like about it.
idk bc ive imagined moral swap hancock being a lot like vic, with sprinkles of mcdonut thrown into the mix. but yeah i can see a good way to do him as well is have him be in diamond city and play mayor over there
When a perpetrator of a crime against children…tells another adult of his crimes…so that he can be told that an imaginary entity forgives and absolves them of all ramifications of their immorality against the most vulnerable people in society…and thereby feels less guilty about his criminal activities…and that other adults hopes to receive regular monetary donations for life, from that evil adult perpetrator…then all claims of promoting morality, by religion…have gone out the window…
An archbishop, by saying “We are admitting a communication with God is of a higher order,” he
said. “It is a sacred trust. …we believe it is most, most sacred and it’s
very much part of us.”…is in fact saying…that protecting a child from being preyed upon by adults…is not a sacred trust…That preventing child abuse is not “most, most sacred“…and that protecting the weak and vulnerable is not “very much part of us”…!
I love that the Catholic Church is constant. No matter how much the world changes, the Church will stay the same and won’t cave to the desires of those who wish her to fall in line with the emotions of individuals. I feel like this is one of the things that most convinces me of the truth of our faith. Because if the teachings and practices of our faith were subject to change with every trend and movement in our society, well how could we believe these teachings to be true at any point? I feel much more secure in my faith knowing that the truth of the Catholic Church remains constant.
I’m going on this rant because of a post from a friend of mine who I went to youth group with in high school. (Back when I was protestant.)
She now goes to the same college as me, but we have not seen each other in years. She has not been to church in months and is trying to find one in the area. Her problem that she says she is running into is that she doesn’t believe in most traditional church doctrine (whatever that means from an evangelical/non-denominational perspective. Because when I went to her church for years there didn’t seem to be any real doctrine.) So she is looking for a church that is more “progressive/open/liberal.”
She also goes on to say that if anyone disagrees with what she is saying then that is an indicator that she probably wouldn’t like their Church.
When did Church and faith stop being something that individuals should conform their lives to and start being something that should to conform to accommodate the emotional desires of the individual?
I just feel like if I couldn’t find a Church that lined up in any way with my life/beliefs/actions, I would change my life to fit the truth of the Church.
In fact that’s what I did when I became Catholic. I decided to change my life so I could follow the Church, rather than expecting the Church to follow me.
After your refusal to go home with him, he left and mumbled something under his breath that was hard to make out. You called your friend and asked for a ride home, remembering that Ashton was indeed staying with you until tour started back up again.
“I’ll just make him go back with the boys.”
“He wants to spend time with you,” your friend says obliviously and you roll your eyes, staring at his car in the driveway when you arrive.
“He’s an asshole,” you retort, opening the car door and leaving her to continue thinking what you had earlier thought: he was still that same aussie sweetheart who gave cuddles and kisses all the time.
You entered the house to see him lounging on the couch and watching tv. You cross your arms until he acknowledges your existence and he finally looks at you, a small indifferent smirk on his face.
“Y/N, I’m sorry.”
“You still think this is funny?”
“No,” he laughs. “You’re being petty and you’re trying to find reasons to argue with me.”
“Suck my ass,” you say in aggravation, walking away to the kitchen and ignoring the fact that he followed you.
“I was mad at Starbucks, not you.”
“And I was mad at your actions, until you,” you turn around quickly and point at him with your finger. “Acted like I was your bitch in front of all those people. And then I realized, I was mad at who you’ve become.”
“You didn’t know who I was?” He sits up and furrows his eyebrows in genuine confusion. “I’m me, Y/N. Not really anyone else.”
“You said something hurtful and you acted as if your fame gave you the right to be mean.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he dismisses your approach and you walk over to sit beside him.
“I just want to know that your the same boy who used to send me sweet good night and good morning texts and sent me silly videos on snapchat.”
“I’m still that guy, Y/N,” His dark brown eyes lock with yours and you can’t find yourself to not see the disgrace he was the other night. You were slowly starting to believe many of the rumors and you didn’t know how to handle any of it. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I do! Or I mean…at least I did,” you sigh. “You left me to figure out and debrief so much of your drama on my own. And I get that we are young people, but where have you’re morals gone?”
Most of your text messages were from the other boys and your friends talking about the situation that you didn’t want to think about. He was going back on tour soon and you wouldn’t know exactly if he had made an effort to speak to you because you had blocked him in every source of communication.
“He probably just wants to be my best friend again,” you say to yourself as you pace around your flat, contemplating letting him back in or not. A solid knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts and you run to open it, mouth falling open when you see Luke standing there.
“Y/N, listen to me,” you stay quiet and he sighs. “I didn’t mean what I said. It was dumb and arrogant and I need you to be back in my life before I go on tour. This sucks.”
“Yeah but…you know when…two people grow insanely distant from each other? And one feels useless to the other one because he’s got so much going on? Yeah, well that’s me and I don’t really think I’d like to be friends with a jerk.”
“I take it back, what I said. Y/N, you can’t hate me forever.”
“The thing that sucks is, I don’t hate you, Lu. I love you and it hurts because now you’re just somebody that I used to know.”
It had been a few months since Michael went back on tour, drug free and detoxicated. His performances were much better and you were so proud of him. You two texted and interacted more. You decided you would visit him and give him a pat on the back and much more rewards for how good he’s been.
He didn’t text you back since the other night and you figured it was because of the shows. But Ashton knew you’d be on your way, so they got you in through the back door and he guided you to his hotel room.
“He hasn’t answered all morning. We were just going to go shopping. He said he wanted to be left alone,” he shrugs and pounds on the door for you. “Michael, I’ve got a surprise for you!” Ashton yells before groaning to himself and opening the door.
Michael lays on the king sized hotel bed, still and unmoving as you take a step forward. Ashton follows in unconsciously and watches when you come to realization that he isn’t breathing and that there are pill bottles beside him.
You freeze in place and everything seems to shatter around you as Ashton runs up to him on in instinct to check if maybe it was all in illusion and that his best friend, the world’s biggest sweetheart and your boyfriend, wasn’t dead.