my mind is like a toilet bowl


masterlist || coming soon//recently posted || tell me something?

Requested: Can you please do an imagine where y/n is crying bc she feels herself so bad (smth hurts or she’s giving birth) and Shawn hates it cause he can’t do anything about it?

Your name: submit What is this?


When you’re really sick, you have a tendency to cry or whimper in your sleep. You’ve been doing this for as long as you can remember. It used to freak your parents out because you’d be asleep and they couldn’t help you without waking you up, and then the same thing happened with your roommates once you started attending Uni. While it is happening, you are vaguely aware of it, but not fully because you’re actually asleep so you can’t stop it unless you wake yourself up.

“Shhhh,” You hear your boyfriends soft voice cooing in your ear as one of his arms is wrapped around your shoulder holding you securely close to his chest, while his other hand is gently pushing your hair from your tear stained cheeks and wiping the tears from your face. “Shhhh,” He tries to comfort you more as you slowly wake up and realize what is happening. “It’s okay y/n, I got you.” His voice is low and soothing. He knows you were asleep and making all these noises in your sleep, but he’s still trying to comfort you because he doesn’t know what else to do. 

Your eyes open, and it feels like your headache gets even worse if that’s even possible. You move slightly and he looks down at you to see that your eyes are open, he exhales audibly, “Oh thank God you’re awake. I don’t know how much more of that I could take” he says honestly. And you know he’s talking about the way that you were crying and whimpering in your sleep.

Keep reading


Originally posted by neaarty

Summary: After months of water and air, the mental calculator of calories began ringing and Cheryl can’t help but hear, and try to help.

A/N: This was requested by anon so thank you very much! This one is gonna be extremely dark so please be careful if you get triggered by eating disorders.

Pairing: Cheryl x reader

Warnings: anorexia/bulimia, a lot of sadness, harsh descriptions, empowering ending

In the hallway of Riverdale high school, the girls were expected to be pencil thin. During the summer, the drink of choice was Vitaminwater and zero calorie soda. Sugar free was the holy grail and some even tried diets found online. The girls complemented each other’s thigh gaps and admired the small waistlines. Some worked out, and got toned, muscular bodies. The healthy way, by taking care of their bodies, drinking plenty of water and eating fruits and veggies. Having patience and time.

I chose the darker, faster road. I ate in front of mirrors, I donated blood, and I even tried the TicTac and water diet for a week. But my mind was counting the calories, every fat cell in my body, and my mind used it as leverage. So I drank ice water and ate air. The feeling of being cold in a hot room was a pleasurable feeling. Drinking cold water and getting the chill of it hitting the empty well was satisfaction. Fainting in the shower and not being able to hold myself upright was a side effect that was worth the attention. 

Cheryl was on vacation for the summer. She called me everyday, making sure her best friend was prepping for trying out for the Vixens. I told her everyday I was fine, I was happy, I was healthy. She told me that she got back halfway through the first week of school. I was happy she was coming back, don’t get me wrong. But she would make me eat, and the time bomb in my head would start going off again.

The first day of school started and I walked in to see girls stop and stare. Some came up to me, I was called an idol.

“No, I’m sick.”

They’d shut me up by calling me an inspiration. 

This happened all day. I was falling in love with my illness and people fell in love with my boney, unhealthy body. How could I not? Somebody offered me an apple and all I saw was sugar. They put it in my fingers and I couldn’t hold it with pure toothpicks. It fell to the floor and people laughed. Not at me, but at the thought of actually eating.

When Cheryl came back to school on Thursday, I stayed home. I could barely take myself down the stairs. My mom made me eat soup and crackers. My mind exploded. When she left for work, I got a text from Cheryl saying she was at school, missing her best friend.

I guess it’s now or never to try something new.

I picked myself up from the bed that was eating me alive and practically dragged myself to the bathroom. My knees were on the side of the toilet, and my head was in the bowl. 

Cheryl was a surprise in her own, many ways. She would bring me candies for when I passed a test, and took me to Pop’s just so I could eat the cherry on her milkshake. She was like oxygen; she was everywhere. When she got to school, word spread of my change. Cheryl felt pride, but remembered the past. My past. She disappeared into thin air, floating to my house in panic. A shock to her was a shock to myself.

In the doorway of my bathroom was Cheryl, slow tears ruining her makeup as her heels clicked all the way to my bathtub. She sat on the edge, flushed the contents in the toilet and held my hand. Her thumb rubbed circles and my head was in her knees, sobbing.

“You need help, (Y/N). I know it, and I know you know it. Now, you brush your teeth, and walk to the kitchen. We are gonna start small, and it will be painful and hard, but you’ll be happy and healthy.”

Being pretty isn’t worth losing yourself. Skinny isn’t always healthy. Loving yourself, your body, your mind, is what is truly beautiful. And I didn’t need Cheryl’s help to discover that.


Back in the late 1990s, I was traveling to Queens from Brooklyn, while riding the train I bumped into my old homeboy Chris, he was major player with the girls until he told and settled down and got married. We talk and got of the E-train at Forest Hills, we went upstairs and he saw the men’s room open to the public. We entered the subway station bathroom, not my first time entering and the it was clean smelling like pine, I figure the attendant must had worked on it and the doorless toilet stalls was stack with paper. When Chris told me had to use the bathroom real bad, I didn’t think he would be sitting on the toilet with his pants blasting turds out his ass, he was laughing while taking a shit going comfortably, Chris was never shy about wanting to shit, as long I had known him, heck he’ll do it on the street. But I forgot he grew up in a house full of sibings, did time in Juvi, and prison so he kind a adjusted. This one man enters the restroom sneaking peeks at him, while we were talking, Chris started becoming annoy at this man molesting him on the toilet and tells the man: Yo Mister is okay if you want to watch me on the toilet shitting I don’t mind. The man takes Chris up on his offer as he stands directly in front of Chris watching him and scrutinize way. Chris ask him is he gonna just stare and don’t say nothing, I tell you what Im about done, you can feel free clean my booty hole with the toilet paper or your tongue mister, if not get the fuck out of here. The man choose C, by leaving the restroom not uttering a word. As Chris got off he bowl wiping his own ass confessing to me, I don’t really role that way, I just like shitting in restrooms.

anonymous asked:

63 with Suga!

Anonymous said: If you’re still writing them, 25 with yoongi milady

Anonymous said: [ 100 ] - ‘You’re so annoying, oh my god.’ / Yoongi please :)) 

63.  What would you do if you were locked in an elevator with me?

25. I just had a couple drinks.

100.  You’re so annoying, oh my god

I decided to combine some prompts :D

“What would you do if you were locked in an elevator with me?”

Yoongi’s lethargic voice startled you, mostly because you thought he was asleep, considering you had almost sat down on him by accident earlier because he was taking up half of the couch as he lied there with his eyes closed.

“How on earth did you think of that question?”

If he hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have known that he was awake, because he looked like he was in a deep slumber, with only his chest rising and sinking steadily and his lips moving when he talked.

“I don’t know, I just did.”

You locked your phone you had been using, before you turned towards him to watch him slowly get up from his position, making more space for you to sit more comfortably on the couch.

“You’re drunk, Yoongi.”

“No I’m not, I just had a couple of drinks.”

You looked him up and down, until your eyes skipped to the empty soju bottles on the table, accompanied by more empty beer bottles on the floor. 

This little party had gone slightly out of hand, especially after Jungkook and Taehyung had made a quick trip to the convenience store to get more alcohol and ice cream, both of which were consumed faster than you had expected, ending up in seven drunk boys and you, also drunk. Your head felt heavy and you felt a bit dizzy, although it wasn’t as bad as you knew your hangover was going to be.

“So? Answer me.”

When you squinted at him, he reciprocated your expression, only making you cross your arms in front of you in turn.

“Fine. I would scream. And shout. Probably die, too.”

He huffed, clearly not satisfied with your answer as he adjusted himself so he was facing you.

“Is that all? That sounds just lovely.”

“I might have to chew off my own ears as well.”
“You’re so annoying, oh my god.”

A chuckle bubbled up inside of you because you found your own answer so hilarious and you couldn’t hold it back, so you just started giggling.

By now he looked like he was so done with the world that it made you laugh so hard- it might have been the alcohol in your blood adding to the hilarity of the situation- that you almost doubled over giggling, while he just kept looking at you.

“Why do you hate me?”

Those words coming out of his mouth surprised you so much that you stopped laughing and just looked at him instead. It wasn’t like you two had been the best of friends, but you would never go as far as saying that you hate him. Never.

He looked more hurt and disappointed than you had realized at first, which only made you feel bad that you had seemingly hurt his feelings.

“I don’t hate you. You’re just too dumb to realize that I like you.”

A stunned silence filled the room. The only noises audible were from Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook playing a ridiculous game of “guess the body part” and, spoiler alert- most of the time it was ass.

Hoseok was passed out cold on the floor, Namjoon was cradling a beer bottle like he was holding a child with his eyes fixed on his phone and Seokjin was busy eating everything he could find. You could only hope that he would find the toilet bowl fast enough for when he was going to throw all of that food up again because cleaning up vomit was the last thing you wanted to do right now.

“I didn’t know you liked me” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on you, his mind racing as he tried to get his thoughts in the right order, which wasn’t exactly easy, seeing as he had downed a whole bottle of soju by himself earlier.

“It’s not my fault you’re so blind-”

Your words were muffled by his lips crashing onto yours, the sudden intensity taking you by surprise, making you yelp into his mouth, before you leaned closer to him, melting into the kiss as his hands settled on your waist, serving as an anchor to keep you grounded.

A faint mix of alcohol and the mint gum he had been chewing reached your taste buds, which only intensified when he added his tongue into your mouth, pulling you closer to his body.

Your mind was spinning, not just because of the alcohol, but because you had only ever dreamed of this, especially since Yoongi had always been rather cold and uninterested towards you.

If only you had known that he felt the same way.

“Get a room” Namjoon yelled, his eyes fixed on you and Yoongi making out on the couch and you hadn’t noticed that you were practically lying on top of him until Namjoon’s voice had reached your ear.

“And someone get those kids to bed, they keep touching each others asses. It’s disturbing.”

Creepypasta #316: The Wishing Well

Trees. Such vengeful bastards. I looked down at the paper cut on the inside of my finger, and the blood now dripping down it. I sighed and wiped off a nearby bench, no longer interested in the candy bar whose wrapper just mutilated my finger. The bench seat being sanitized, I sat. You never know with these public places. Someone could have just sat down, pissed, and walked away and nobody would be the wiser with all this rain. Cleaning this was worth using the last of my hand sanitizer.

I hate trees. My finger was still bleeding. I grabbed some tissues from my inner jacket pocket and wiped at the blood. I’d have to sanitize it when I get home. If I get home. The trees seem out to get me today. The other benches in the park were empty, all circling the wishing well that serves as the park centerpiece. Some kid was here earlier in the week judging by the well’s new graffiti reading “blood please.”

Aren’t you a badass, I thought. Society says don’t graffiti, stay in school, don’t be a douche bag who probably lives with his mom and thinks he’s a badass because he listens to Meshugga. Society said all of this, and you, Mr. Badass, said no.

Finger’s still bleeding, rain’s still raining, and the trees are still mocking me. I needed to go home, but there wasn’t a waste basket in sight, and I’ll be damned if I just throw this tissue to the ground like Mr. Badass probably would. What’s a guy to do? The wishing well still said “blood please,” so blood I gave it. I stared down the well, and wondered how deep it was. Didn’t matter, because at the bottom was my blood and rain soaked tissue.

Don’t I get a wish? Some hand sanitizer would be nice.

“Hey, Creep!” I see some guy leaning out of their car window, yelling at me. Bleach blonde hair, sunglasses at night, and a Tapout sticker on the door to top it off. Another badass. Badass #2.

“Go cut yourself!” he yelled, laughing. Because I wear black. How clever. Didn’t see that one coming at all. All sarcasm aside, what I didn’t see coming was a bottle lobbed at my face as Badass #2 sped off.

Hand sanitizer. Oh, the irony. And pain. My nose took most of the blow and began to bleed. Badass #2 was nowhere to be seen, and Badass #1’s graffiti seemed to be taunting me. “Blood please.” As I couldn’t get any blood on my jacket and I was out of tissues, I leaned over the edge of the well.

My blood dripped into the well. I had such a headache. I’d like some ibuprofen, but another bottle in the face probably wouldn’t help the throbbing. I just hoped Badass #2 got what was coming to him. My head was ringing. Lights and bells were going off inside my head. I rested at the park, my face dangling over the well, until the bleeding stopped and my head simmered down. Then I went home.

I don’t give enough to the relationship, she said as soon as I arrived. I’m never home. I don’t try hard enough. I don’t make enough money. In short, we’re broke, bitter, and butt-fucked by society, and it’s all my fault. Cereal for dinner. I’m sleeping on the couch again. The same thing it’s been every day for as long as I care to remember.

After sanitizing everything that I need to sanitize, I turn on the TV I saved from the building dumpster. I watch the news every day, not because I enjoy hearing about religious wars, gas prices, and Kim Kardashian, but because it’s the only channel I get. The first thing I saw was that damn wishing well. It was in the background of the current scene, but I was offended and irritated nonetheless. I tried ignoring it by paying attention to the headline, when it hit me.

There was a crash by the park. A bad one. Fatal, even. I recognized the Tapout sticker.

I ran to the bathroom, checked the state of the toilet bowl. Not clean enough. I looked around desperately. I felt like I was going to die, and I needed something fast. The sink was clean enough. I’m pathetic, I can’t even throw up in a clean toilet, it must be sanitized. My OCD was getting a little out of hand. I ran to the sink and my stomach and mind finally made a compromise and let me let go. It was disgusting.

The accident had to be a coincidence. I didn’t kill that guy. I mean, he obviously wasn’t the world’s most outstanding citizen, but he didn’t deserve that. I threw up some more. I didn’t even know his name. It was really disgusting.

She barged in, demanding to know what I was doing. I was probably drinking our money away, because I’m such a waste of a person. I ignored her. I’ve gotten good at that. We’re only together any more to cut our living expenses, the finances have gotten that bad. This puke was unbearably disgusting.

Once she left, I thought back to the well. The sanitizer and the accident didn’t prove anything, but I can’t even leave the house without checking the lock three times. I’ll check the well one more time. That would make three. Three is a good number. It was only that thought that helped me get to sleep that night, long after the sink had been cleaned and sanitized again. It was no longer disgusting.

I’m not sure where to get the blood I needed. I didn’t think this far ahead. I stood at the park for a while, but the graffiti seemed to taunt me, knowing that if this thing is for real, then there’s plenty of blood on my hands. Badass #1 had added on to it so it now read;

“More blood please.”

I’d love to say no and forget this, but my conscience won’t let me. More importantly, my OCD won’t let me. Three is a good number.

I didn’t realize I was chewing on the right side of my cheek until I tasted blood. I was excited until the pain registered. I had to start chewing on the left of my cheek to keep things even, then I needed to find something to catch the blood in. Spitting in the well didn’t seem all that appealing, but I didn’t have any other options. I spat.

Most of it got in the well, but as I feared a good bit of it dripped down my chin, and I was running out of tissues. I had some and wiped my face. I then used some sanitizer on my chin. I would clean it more when I got home, but we had more pressing matters. I needed to make a wish. Was there a time limit? That wasn’t the test. The test was whether it worked or not, and yet I kept acting as though I knew it worked for a fact. What should I wish for? What do normal people wish for? I panicked.

That’s when I saw him. Obviously homeless, and obviously unsanitary, an elderly man was watching me from behind a tree. Disgusting. He started to approach me, leaving the safety of his unsanitary tree. He’s probably going to ask me for money or food, as if I have much more than him. I closed my eyes and wished he’d stop. Dear God, don’t let it touch me.

It sounded like someone letting the air out of a balloon. I opened my eyes, and the man had stopped five feet away from me with one arm outstretched, ready to touch me. Then he made the noise again. Then he fell over. Dead.

I did it again. I stared in disbelief, shook myself out of it, and I went home.

I couldn’t sleep. I stopped going to work. It wasn’t guilt that stopped me from going about my usual routine, but I don’t know what it was. I sanitized things until I couldn’t afford the sanitizer. I didn’t eat much, but when I did it was always three of something. Always three.

Nothing on the news about the bum in the park. Welcome to the suburban life, one badass, or Badass #2 to be specific, dies and the world cries over the loss of youth. Youth that throws hand sanitizer at pedestrians. Homeless people, though? Don’t care. Back to Kim Kardashian.

“Are you ever going to get off of your ass? You’re useless. I can’t believe you broke your fucking OCD just to ruin your work schedule. That was the only damn thing your OCD was good for.” That was last night. I’ve been out of it for a month. She was getting angrier as time went by, and I don’t know why she didn’t kick me out. Maybe she still had hope for me, or other feelings for me. I can’t tell. I wasn’t feeling anything any more.

Those words echoed as I tried to sleep. I was sleeping in the bed again. She’s quite confusing at times. Needs to be more structured and organized. “That was the only damn thing your OCD was good for.”

My OCD. The badass and the bum.

Three is a good number. A very good number.

I suddenly leaned over and shook her awake. I told her to get ready for a walk. She was confused. That was okay.

We walked to the park. She asked if I was going to tell her why I’ve been acting so weird. I said maybe. I don’t know why she’s stayed with me for so long. I really don’t.

Badass #1 was on a roll. The graffiti now said “Just a little more blood please.” I hope his mom doesn’t know what he does, and that she thinks he’s an outstanding citizen. I hope Badass #1 loves his mother, even if he doesn’t admit it.

I stood next to the well, and she stood next to me. We used to be in love, even with my problems. We used to stand really close like this in the middle of the night every night. There were a lot of things we used to do. She tried to break the silence and suggested we make a wish.

“I wish that you’ll forgive me for this,” I said.

Just a little more blood please.

Oh, I gave it plenty.

I don’t know if my wish came true or not, but I do know that I’m better now. I sleep. I work. I got a nice job. I don’t worry about money now. I still keep things in threes. I still walk pass the well at times. Someone cleaned the old graffiti and replaced it with “Thank you.” I really don’t think it was Badass #1. I don’t think there was ever a Badass #1. There was a Badass #2, though. And a bum. And then there was her. And I do know that three is a good number. It is a very good number.

Credits to: KMilliron

For @sixpenceee: A drawing and nightmare story from my childhood.

I want to say I was about 8 at the time, but I can’t remember for sure.

In this nightmare, I woke up feeling very sick, and had to vomit. At the time I was already taking a few days off from school, and had a little plastic vomit tray by my bed in-case anything would happen. I was feeling a sensation from my stomach crawl up into my throat, but it become stuck at my mouth as if something was holding it back. I remember being terrified and trying to see what was coming out of my mouth, and only seeing these squirming tentacles flailing about. It felt as if I was being choked for some reason. Just as it became unbearable, I gave it one final heave from my gut and it all flew out. I’ll never forget what I saw next.

A severed head, bald but with large pulsing veins, lay sideways in a splatter of blood on the floor of my room, with its tentacles still worming about. It began to spin around in circles, and once it pulled itself upright, slowly turned and gave me a deathly gaze. Its eyes stared blankly into mine, as if it was looking past me and deep into my mind. I couldn’t turn away. I was just frozen in fear from what was happening in front of me. After what felt like hours, it turned the other way and scampered out of my room. I don’t know why, but I decided to follow it. It ran all over the living room, into the kitchen, and finally into the bathroom.

I was at the doorway when I saw it crawl up the toilet and into the bowl where it sat still. As I approached, it slowly peeked its head up and watched me. I quickly flushed the toilet, and though its head somehow went down the drain, its tentacles remained trying to climb their way out of the bowl against the mix of water and blood.

At this point I woke up, feeling just as sick as I did in my dream, and of course, vomited into the small tray I had at my bedside. I was relieved to not throw up another severed head, but now as an adult I can’t help but wonder.

A lot of things in my childhood have been a blur, some a bit more clear than others. I’ve tried to draw this monster before as a child, but I simply wasn’t skilled enough. But this dream, this certain nightmare that I’ve had only once in my life, is as clear in my mind as if it just happened five minutes ago. It’s as if it’s been literally seared into my mind, and I can never forget it. I recall reading a sixpenceee post before about how your brain remembers every face it sees. So just where, as a child around 8 years old, would I have seen anything like this? 

It’s being immersed in lukewarm water
that makes me want to take
pills from my hand
and watch them swirl down the white porcelain of my toilet bowl
my gardens of neon colors
my skies once coated in madness
and creation have been coated in something more standard
at least I don’t daydream about drowning
at least my mind doesn’t go murky and grey
and my loved ones are less afraid

my lover talks about my sleeping patterns as if he’s hit the lottery
stroking back hair like filling his pockets with gold
“thank you for waking up with me”
he fills my cup
with gratitude and pride for resembling something a little more human

for looking like something less manic
less awake
the rapid talking and the desire to write
until the break of day has lessened
my dreams of
swimming with mermaids
and turning the night sky into playgrounds
have been replaced with job applications
my natural hair color
and an awkward smile that I don’t recognize as my own
and my love shouts in victory as I feel less and less like myself

but at least I don’t sleep for months at a time
at least now I’m showering regularly
the dark hollow monster that used to remind me
I’ve been up for far too long and it’s time to come down
he doesn’t live here anymore
but he’s taken parts of me that I love with him

and as my love rejoices in this new diagnosis and medicine
I’m quietly mourning a loss

[Pref] Insecurities


Sometime ago you heard Luke talking to the boys about how you have earned weight and that made you insecure. You and you best friend went to Bahamas to have a holiday together for 2 weeks and really ate all the delicious delicacies that were local and just enjoyed.

Right now, you were standing in front of the mirror. “God, look at that!” You exclaimed to yourself, scolding yourself. “I am so fat” You detested yourself now. Luke was right, you have earned weight but also you’ve earned fats. The door of your room opened revealing Luke “Oi, get out” You hurried and pushed him off the room and closed it. You didn’t want him to see you in this state.

“Babe?” He knocked “Go away, you saw me” You sobbed, why do people always look at physical attribute then what you are? “Of course, I saw you? Why are you hiding anyway?” He replied “Because, I’ve earned weight and I am fat” You told him crying “Open up, baby, come on” He confronted “No” You stubbornly refused. “You’re not fat, why did you think you’re fat?” He questioned and you sob louder “I heard you talking to the boys about it” You murmured.

“Oh god no, that wasn’t about you being fat!” He explained “Then what was it?” You tried to calm your sobs waiting for his reply “I was glad that you earned weight, I noticed that you’d lost weight sometime ago” He whispered “I don’t want you constricting what you do or eat or whatever that prevents you from being you, you hear me?” He continued and you opened the door and jumped onto him.

He gladly took you in his arms patting your head. “Shh… don’t hate yourself, okay?” He whispered in your ears. “Okay…” You inhaled his scent and calmed down. “I love you” He said “I love you too”.


You weren’t a big eater or some sort so you get bloated whenever you eat oily foods. You aren’t vegetarian but somehow you managed to avoid meat every time though you eat specific meats with certain things on it other than that you rarely eat them.

You along with Ashton and the boys’ with their girlfriends went out to eat in a BBQ house. You didn’t want to pull out as you knew Ashton would be sad. So here you are sitting in front of the grilled meats.

“Can I have round steak, top, extra lean” You quietly told the server “Can you please make sure it’s a Select grade?” You added “Separate my bill” You knew it’d be expensive and you’re very picky in meat. “You’re very picky, aren’t you?” Ashton mentioned, that made you feel insecure. You laughed it off him though now your kind off self conscious too.

When your meat arrived you were kind off contemplating whether to eat it or not. You grilled your selected meat along with the rest and waited for it. You aren’t a big fan so you just had a slice. Before you knew it, it was taken away by Michael. “Mikey, that was mine” You joked hoping he’d return it “But I got it first” He whined getting scolded by his girlfriend telling him off to return it to you. “There’s a lot of meat in the grill, Y/N” Ashton kind off scolded you. “Yeah, I see it… Michael, I was just joking, you can have it” You were now on the verge of crying, but they’d think you cried over that damned selected round steak, top meat, which is kind of childish.

You took a slice of meat and put it in your dish. You stared at it for a bit poking it. “Y/N, if you don’t wanna eat it, don’t play with it” Ashton said, right now all you could tell yourself was you’re a great failure. You looked at everyone and they kind of gave you the look.

You inhaled a deep breath before having a bite. Instead of chewing it, you swallowed the meat. You can taste the fat and oil making you cringe a bit. They continue eating and so do you, swallowing the meat.

“Were you swallowing your meat?” Calum asked a bit petrified. You shook your head lying. You felt a bit nauseous. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Michael’s girlfriend asked concerned. You can’t reply as you felt something was stuck in your throat. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. If you didn’t want to go since earlier you could’ve refused” Ashton snapped.

You stood up cupping your mouth and walked out on them immediately. You weren’t angry on them or something, you were to vomit if you stayed longer.
“Ash, she wasn’t being rude” Michael’s girlfriend said and stood up following you. “I’ll check on her”.

You let out all the content to the toilet bowl. You felt very sick at the moment. “Y/N? You in here?” You heard someone called you. “I am –” You were to reply but ended up vomiting again.

“Oh god, are you alright?” She looked horrified. “What happened?” She asked “The meat happened” You had the tendency to joke around at a time like this. “Don’t joke around like that”.
“Do you mind grabbing my bag?” You asked her a bit desperate, you bring them tablets just in case. She nodded and immediately left.

She grabbed your bag getting a look from everyone. She grabbed a glass of water immediately leaving them.
Ashton followed her. “Y/N, take this…” She handed you your meds. You swallowed it and drank the water. “Y/N, baby?” You heard Ashton, Mikey’s girlfriend told him where you are.
Your vomiting subsided a bit. “Hey…” You smiled at him. “I am sorry” You scrunched your face “Silly, why are you saying sorry?” You smiled at him caressing his face. He helped you stood up and led you to the sink. You washed your mouth and dried it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked “I didn’t want you to go alone” You replied “I mean you being sick?” Oh… “You said earlier that I am picky… so maybe I thought eating the meat would change that…” It was a childish decision but you’d almost do anything to please Ashton.

“Oh god… I feel the shittiest boyfriend ever” His face full of guilt. “Shut up… you’re the best, just blame the meat, okay?” You smiled at him “Okay, let’s blame the meat” He gave me a shy smile. “What did the meat do anyway?” He asked a bit curious. “It had loads of fats… I hadn’t eaten meat in 4 months… I only eat extra lean meats” You explained “I don’t take much meat as it’s oily and fatty and I always eat salad and carbs…” You laughed “Picky, right?”. “Sorry…” You patted him.
“Let’s get you home, yeah?”


Seemingly, you heard Calum and the boys talk about what they like about girls in general, even though they had girlfriends. Of course it’s natural. Even girls talk about what they like about them boys.

“Y/N is being clingy most of the time” You heard him said. You didn’t knew that too much of your presence bothered him so much. You couldn’t bear to hear anymore of your imperfections. You left quietly.

“Girls does that… I mean, my girlfriend does that, I suppose it’s a common thing” Luke said laughing. “No, I mean try a day being me, you’ll received messages at a random times, sometimes when you’re peacefully sleeping and if you didn’t reply she’ll keep sending you messages until you reply” He heaved making the guys giggle “That’s cute” Michael said making Calum shook his head “Trust me you’ll grow tired of it”. “At least someone stays up for you, cook for you or call us, your band mates to ask if you’re alright” Ashton smiled “I am not implying that my girlfriend doesn’t do that but really it’s great to know someone who stays up to wait for you and greet you a welcome home or something” He maturely reasoned “Wow man, you’re deep” Luke patted Ashton making the boys laugh.

You crawled up in your shared bedroom and suddenly just felt tired. Your tears brimming down until you fall asleep.
Your body knew when to wake up as you’re accustomed to it. You usually wake up and leave when Calum is awake so you two can have a chitchat to catch up.

You left the bed and cook for Calum’s breakfast and dinner for later. After that you had taken a shower changing to your casual clothes to Uni and afterwards for work. You had called to do overtime for the next few days to clear your mind.

You left a note telling Calum you left early.

You turned off your phone to be away from disturbance. You were in your work when your colleague said Calum was outside, luckily you were doing something to have an excuse that your doing something “Hey Dina, can you tell Calum, I am doing something? Glen, needs this asap?” You told her and she nodded.

You continued working for another 3 hours and came home at 11. Calum wasn’t home yet. You made sure to ready his dinner in the table and head to your room and sleep.

The following few days you did the same. This was the longest you hadn’t talked to him.

You opened your phone finally and for the past days that your phone was off you had received over 70 messages, 50 missed calls and 30 voice messages. You were in the verge of crying seeing the notifications in your phone.

You had received a phone call from Ashton the moment you idled your phone. “Y/N, thank god you answered” Ashton’s voice was in relieved “Where had you been? You hadn’t visited us in ages! Will you get us food for Calum, he refused to eat? Did the two of you fought? Calum is having a breakdown, he is crying. Also–” You didn’t let him finish “I am coming”. You hang up and told Glen you’re leaving early which she gladly let you, she was worried that you’ve been working OT in consecutive days.

You went to have Chinese ordered, you knew the boys like them. You waited for good 10 minutes and finally arrived at their studio in the span of 5 minutes.
You were recognized so they let you in. You hurried to their studio.

Knock. Knock.

You didn’t even wait for response and opened the door. “Calum!” You called full of worriness. “Y/N…” He cried. The boys let you two alone.

“Do you not love me anymore?” He cried on your embrace “Shhh… how can you assume that I do not hold any feelings for you, no more?” You rubbed circles in his back “You hadn’t talk to me in the past few days, you hadn’t replied nor answered my texts and calls, I hadn’t seen you in ages” He sniffed “I heard you telling the boys that I was being clingy… I didn’t knew you were bothered by my presence…” You fidgeted with your hands.

“Please don’t leave me… I know I said that but now I regretted everything I had said… you being away, I don’t think I can hold it together” You felt warm as he said that you were needed “I love your clingyness, I just realized how gloomy day was when I hadn’t received any of your random messages, the time you always welcome me when I come home, your presence…” You hugged him tightly “Hush now baby, I am sorry” You whispered. “Promise me you’ll not leave me?” He looked at you with hopeful eyed. You giggled and kissing his forehead “I promise”.

“Let’s get you eating. I’ll call the boys” You stood up, immediately he held your wrist “Don’t leave” He was being a bit stubborn now “I’m just calling them from outside, Cal. I am not leaving” You smiled at him and he let go. You went to open the door and let the guys come in. “Must hurt, aye?” Ashton joked “Oi… leave him alone or I’ll talk to your girlfriend and tell her what you had said” You joked. You actually didn’t know what he had said but oh well. It made him quiet.

The next day you found Calum wide awake waiting for you, “Oh god, Calum” You exclaimed a bit startled. “I am just making sure… you’re here. I made something” He passed you a paper with a list of things making you giggle. “Cal, you actually don’t need to write this things” It was a list of things to make sure you weren’t going to leave him. It’s funny. You kissed the top of his nose.


“God, look at you” Ashton exclaimed laughing. “What?” You were quite confused now. “The way you dress” He added, ‘What’s wrong with my attire?’ You asked yourself. “You’re wearing that” He pointed out. You were just wearing a simple baggy sweats along with oversized flannels which was your usual. “Yeah?” You scrunched your face
“Anyways, lets go” He giggled and Michael was already outside talking with the others.

You suddenly became aware on what Ashton was on about. The boys’ girlfriends were wearing usual 'girly’ clothes and now it became apparent that you’re the one that’s odd. Now you were insecure about what you wear but you didn’t want to change in the last minute.

You guys hang out to an amusement park to spend their day off and relax. You had brushed of the earlier comments of Ashton and just enjoyed the day until you noticed Michael looking at other girls. You aren’t the jealous type but when you look to where he was looking, it was a skinny tanned woman dolled up head to toe, that was wearing a ¾ crop tops and a very short skirt.

You aren’t the dressy girly type. Some people had teased you being a tomboy and whatnot. But right now, you felt like crap. 'Maybe, I hadn’t try enough to be a girly 'girl’?’ You asked yourself. It’s not like you don’t own them dress, skirts or whatnot but this kind of attire makes you comfortable. It has been ages too since you’ve worn those.

Frown written in your face.
The rest of the day you hid your hurt feelings and pretend to be enjoying.

They drop you off your house and bade them goodbye. You immediately went to your room and rummage your wardrobe. Soon you came across your rarely used short leather fitted black skirt but long enough to cover your bum and a matching of black floral spaghetti strap crop tops. You actually had loads of this types of dresses but never worn them.

“Hey Mikey, which colour do you prefer? Red or Pink?” You asked over the phone “Red” He chuckled “Um, how bout bags? Pouches?” You continued giving him a questionnaire about his preference “Pouches looks cute” You continued giving him a couple more questions “Why are you asking?” He finally let out a yawn. “Umm… nothing, sleep well alright?” You said.

Tomorrow you have a get away again with the group. You have been drastically changing over the past few days and Michael noticed it too but nevertheless mentioned about it.

You woke up early and dolled yourself. You wore your spaghetti strap crop top along with your leather skirt. You applied mascara and applied a smokey eye liner. To be honest even if you hadn’t worn make up in ages you were quite pleased that it came out very well. You brought a leather jacket just in case if it got cold later. You opened your shoes wardrobe. You were an avid fashion collector before you and Michael met. But since you focused on studying, your days faded to sweats and flannels. You grabbed your 5 inch wedge and came down stairs.

“Oh god!” Your mum was shocked it had been years since she saw you last this 'girly’. “Mum, really?” You chuckled. Soon you got called from Mikey that they were near.

You heard a knock on your door. You opened the door greeted by Michael. “Hey babe” He squinted his eyes “You look different?” He tilted his head. “You think so? Do I look, okay?” You asked a bit worried “I thought you might like a girly change?” You flashed him a shy smile.

“Why?” He was confused “Didn’t you like sweats? I like them on you too!” He added. “Well, I just noticed that maybe I wasn’t girly enough or some sort for you… besides I haven’t worn this in ages, so don’t know how I look?” You scratched your nape. “Hell you fucking look hot… not okay! And really I don’t mind you wearing sweats and flannels” He assured you giving you a smile.

“Well, I somewhat saw you checking out a woman on the amusement park… and Ashton noticed that I dress oddly…” You sighed. Ashton and you were buds, so you really take on what he thinks and take it into account, you wanted to impress Michael too. “Oh god… did you think I was checking her out? Hell no!” He scrunched his face in disgust “I just can’t believe some people actually doesn’t get too self conscious… I mean, it’s a common thing in the western and in here but I just think do they still had any pride and dignity left” Wow. Talk about deep talks.

“Oh…” You made an 'O’ face. “Oi, you two we’re still here” Ashton yelled from the car. “Right, we’re coming!” You yelled back and grabbed Michael’s hand “Don’t change, okay?” He whispered “I won’t” You replied giggling.

“What happened to Flannels and sweats?” Ashton got pale like his soul was taken away from him. “In my wardrobe” You stuck your tongue out to him making him glare at you.

“God, you’re prettier in person than picture and your old magazine issues” Calum’s girlfriend said and had a nod from the 2 other girls. “Haha, really?” You knew they were implying about your old job.

“I hadn’t been able to focus on modeling and fashion blog since ages” You told them. “You were a model?” Ashton asked a bit surprised “Yeah, sweats and flannels” You rolled your eyes joking. “I didn’t know either” Michael had a blank face “No way! You hadn’t showed him your wardrobe yet?” Luke’s girlfriend laughed and you shook your head laughing. “Your eyes will pop out” She added.

You were now at ease about yourself. Though insecurities pops out every where, maybe assurance from Michael would help you.


Think it's okay not to use contraception? To lie about pregnancy?

Three weeks yesterday, I found out I was pregnant although I had been taking the pill and am still breastfeeding. It’s safe to say I was absolutely devastated. All I’ve ever wanted is for me and my daughter to have a proper family. That involves a man and another baby- I love children and babies. Unfortunately I was missing the man. I had been seeing a guy on and off for a year and a half who I was so in love with who ‘didn’t want a relationship’ and had tried to move on by dating another guy who turned out to have a girlfriend. Anyway it’s safe to say I would be a single mum to two different fathers.

On top of these factors, I run my own house on a very low income as it is. I’m due to start working after 3 years in January, and college next October. I’m also battling a severe mental illness, and my two year old daughter doesn’t sleep and is still breastfed. Although I didn’t agree with abortion, I knew straight away, no matter how much I wanted to, I could not physically emotionally or financially support another child.

A week later, I went to hospital to have a scan to make sure I was under 9 weeks of pregnancy and arrange a termination. Seeing my child on the screen was indescribable, knowing it would be the first and last time I saw it. It was just a tiny circle, 5 weeks gestation, didn’t even have a heartbeat yet. A ball of cells. But it was still a life growing inside of me. I didn’t cry, or feel sad, or hurt… Just amazed, and I had to look away.

I left the hospital with a date, and a picture. My mum stopped off on the way home to get dinner. That’s when I opened the scan picture and I broke down. I had to wait two more weeks, meaning by my termination date I would have known for three weeks. I had three weeks of the most horrible exhaustion, sickness and mental torment to battle, whilst trying not to bond with this thing growing in me. But EVERYTIME I looked at my daughter I knew it was right. I couldn’t lose her, and I needed to get better for her. Another baby would make me more poorly and a worse mum.

Three days ago, the tuesday, I went into hospital to have the preperation pill which widens the cervix in preperation for the actual abortion. After this pill there would be no going back. I had to go alone as my mum was watching my daughter. The waiting room felt so cold and I broke down and had an anxiety attack where I was comforted by the receptionist and took into a room where I was took into a cubicle so nobody else who came in would have to see me in such a state and I wouldn’t see them.

The cubicle I was put in would be the room where I eventually had my termination. I cannot even describe how much my heart was hurting knowing I would be killing my child in a few days in a room like this. It was a ball of cells and its brain wasn’t even connected but still to me it was my child. The nurse came in and comforted me, talked me through what would happen, and I took the pill before I could change my mind.

I was so poorly the next two days. I don’t know whether it was morning sickness, the pill, or the stress, but I found it hard to stay awake and do anything at a all. But Thursday came around, and I was took in to my cubicle… I tried to stay calm, I didn’t cry. I knew I had to get through this and within four hours it should all be over and I could even go home.

Now this is where my story gets important. It is not the same for every girl, and I thought it would be so easy. Three hours after inserting some pills into my vagina (luckily I got to do this myself) and an anti sickness injection which had me drifting in and out of sleep, nothing had happened. Eventually I woke up with dull cramping and some bleeding. But it wasn’t enough, and the cramping got worse but not as bad as it should be although this was painful.

By 1 pm, four and a half hours later, the cramps were worse but the bleeding wasn’t enough. I was tired, sick and hungry (I wasn’t allowed to eat) and uncomfortable. I just wanted to be home with my little girl and I wanted it over but nothing was happening. I had to take some oral pills and then after another hour the cramps came on worse but still no more bleeding.

I was given gas and air for the pain. Bear in mind this isn’t given to everybody- I was a special case due to breastfeeding. The cramps came on in waves as although the fetus was only tiny, my cervix was still opening so I was still getting contractions. It feels like knives. I was kind of inconsolable at this point… Not just because of the pain and because it took so long but because I could feel it moving down and I knew it was going to happen within an hour.

About six hours after my admission, I felt like I needed the toilet. Bear in mind, the pill can give you a 'funny tummy’ if you get my drift and you have to do EVERYTHING in a cardboard bowl over the toilet so that nurses can check it.

I could feel it coming out and it was like jelly. It was the most horrible fucking feeling and I cried and cried and panicked. And yes my funny tummy acted up too. I pressed the button for a nurse and went back to bed while she took the pan away to check. I felt spaced out and about half an hour later, she told me it had passed.

I went back to the toilet again and I felt too spaced out to feel any emotion. I bent over, feeling cold and sick and I was so sweaty that I was drenched. I think I was on the toilet for half an hour, groaning to let the nurse and my dad know I was okay. Eventually the poor nurse came to move the bedpan and then try to take me back to bed. Everything was spinning and blurry as I leant on her.

The next thing I remember I woke up on the bed with another nurse running in, everybody looking over me, hooked up to blood pressure monitors and an oxygen mask. I was told I had fainted and my blood pressure was dangerously low and I couldn’t go home yet. It had been 8 hours and I was crying out for my little girl.

My stomach felt empty and I had never felt so ill. No tears would come and I couldn’t even speak I just kept screaming in my head in pain. Physical and mental pain. Eventually another hour and a half later I was let home even though my blood pressure was closing as the unit was closing and they couldn’t find me a bed on the women’s health ward and I was adamant I wanted to go home. I had never hugged my daughter so hard and j collapsed on my mum and I cried.

It’s the morning after now, and I still feel poorly. I can’t stand without wobbling and I’m pale and weak. If I’m not better in a few hours I may have to go in as its a sign my blood pressure is still low. Emotionally, it hasn’t hit me yet. My stomach doesn’t feel as empty as it still hurts. I still feel pregnant, the hormones haven’t disappeared. But I can’t stop replaying that moment again and again in my head and then it does hurt… Like somebody is clutching my chest and squeezing it.

You think it’s okay to have sex without contraception and think 'oh it’s okay I can just have an abortion?’ Don’t. Not everybody is lucky to have such a straightforward procedure, and even if it is straightforward, when it happens, you will be in pain and feel disgusted and that moment will haunt you for the rest of your life. PLEASE BE SAFE. Use protection.

And to those girls who think it’s okay to lie about pregnancies, miscarriages and abortions to get back at someone or get someone’s attention… Don’t. Because nothing is more painful emotionally as losing a child you grew inside you and if you can lie about something so horrible after reading this you are a disgusting human and karma will get you.

I know I may lose followers due to this but this is so important. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on anyone and if I can stop another girl going through what I did it’s worth it. Please look after your bodies. Love and light x

A Family Affair

This is based on the episode synopsis for the season finale- with the hint ‘ Meredith and Maggie offer Amelia support’.

Enjoy! :)

Amelia’s POV

 I sit on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, my knees drawn up to my chest. I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. I want to cry- but I can’t. I can’t allow myself to cry, because I’m a world class neurosurgeon, and world class neurosurgeons don’t cry. I feel like my heart has dropped out of my chest. I’m having palpitations and sweating. Is this what an anxiety or panic attack feels like?

 Lying in front of me is the cause of my anxiety attack. 5 pregnancy tests, which I grabbed from the aisle while grocery shopping yesterday, all sporting the big bold letters ‘PREGNANT’. I stare at the pregnancy test sticks for a while longer, as if staring at the sticks would change the results. But nope, the big bold letters were still there, staring back at me, mocking me.

 Of course I remember what got me into this predicament in the first place. It was the night when I finally confessed my love to Owen in my own messed up way.

Keep reading

no one knows what to say when you tell them you want to throw up your food or not eat for days because the answer seems easy.
don’t gag.
do eat.
but it doesn’t work like that and here I am with blood in my throat and regret on my mind arms around the toilet bowl.

When We Fuck
Ashley Wylde
When We Fuck

Disillusions Track of The Day!

Day 3: When We Fuck

When we fuck… when your hands are in my hair like desperation, lips on mine like fire, body pressed against me with my back pressed against the wall, nails dragging across my skin, tracing my outline and teasing… I am there with you.

But the moment you whisper those words, “you are so beautiful,” meant to open up your heart, I am gone.

If I could design my body, it would be a little less hollowed glass and a little more trained architect with a ruler. I’d fill in the concave space between my shoulder and my hips, fill in the muscle scraps stretched too thin, two less useless pounds, and the kind of confidence I’d need to not be so nervous when you go down. And no, I don’t want a dick, but I am pretty sick of this shit, too, and I don’t want to be a boy but girl has never really been my calling either. And the place I find myself, somewhere stuck in the middle, I don’t know if my body will ever feel beautiful, to me.

Only I can’t start a romance with my toilet bowl to shed this kind of shame, and there’s not a way to end the pain in my gut when the minimum wage labor at subway calls me “pal.” Really dude? Pal? If you’re going to lump me into the one half of the population my junk doesn’t match, at least call me sir, like you’re not looking down on me from your $7.25 an hour throne and that’s not the fucking point.

The point is that the next time you touch me, you can think whatever you like, but if you don’t mind, keep it inside. Because I know how hard you try to make me hear you, make me see what you see. And this body is beautiful, but don’t confuse this body with me.

Download the poem on iTunes!

Dairy Surprise (Nate Imagine)


“You know y/n, when I imagined holding up your hair like this I didn’t imagine you over a toilet bowl” Nate chuckled as he held my hair in place.

I was currently hunched over the toilet bowl throwing up my lunch. It was all so sudden too, like one minute I’m eating strawberry yoghurt with Nate and then the next I’m regurgitating my sandwich and iced tea.

“Uhhhh. I’m so sorry you had to see me like this Nate” I said spitting then flushing.

“Nah it’s alright lil Ma. I don’t mind, I always here for you and you know that” he replied rubbing my back.

I got up after feeling done and washed and brushed my teeth. Nate helped clean me up then carried me to our bedroom, gently placing me on the bed before jumping in himself. I turned to face him and playing with the patterns on his shirt while he rested his chin on my head.

“Do you think I got food poisoning from that restaurant?” I timidly asked.

“Nah I don’t think so. We go there all the time and you’ve never been sick like this.” He replied


“Yeah babe?”

I tried retracing my steps on what I ate earlier. The focaccia? No. Iced Tea? No. Donuts? Nah I we bought them today. Wait a second…

“Did you check the expiry date on the yoghurt?”

“No. Wh- ohhhhhh” as realisation hit him. “Sorry Ma. Didn’t mean you make you sick”.

“That’s alright Nate. Just please check it before you eat it.”

“Wait on a sec. How come I’m not throwing up?”

“Maybe because your abs of steal saved you” I said, lightly punching his stomach as we both giggled. His warm embrace and steady heart beats lulling me to sleep.


“Yeah Ma?”

“I’m really glad you’re here with me” I yawned as I snuggled into his chest.

“Me too baby girl me too.” He said kissing my head as he stroked my back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too lil Ma.” And that was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep.
Hey guys, I’m so sorry if that sucked balls/too short 😬😓; it’s my first imagine and I’m tired but I hope you guys like it. Message or inbox me your imagines and I’ll do them. 😊