my sister is engaged!

Practicing several features and faces shapes! 

Suki is so lovelyy!!!!! It was a blast playing with her palette color but a struggle to get her features ! I definitely need more practice but in the meantime I’ll throw this in here 😄


anonymous asked:

Can you please do a blurb with Niall and his gf or girl he is seeing the morning after they were out and it's the first time anyone has found about them? (Kinda like Niall & Celine) and she's upset and how he reacts! Thank you xx



She’s not good enough for him.

What’s he see in her?  She’s not even that pretty.

I heard she’s a real bitch.  

She keeps trying to make them happen.  When will she accept that they aren’t going to happen?

Look at Niall’s face, he clearly doesn’t wanna be there.

Pfffft.  Don’t worry y’all.  This is clearly a PR stunt.  Niall’s new CD is coming out.  She’s nothing.

Thank God.  I never imagined Niall would choose someone like her.


I wish I’d never looked at Instagram this morning.  I don’t know what on earth possessed my sister to post a picture of Niall and I kissing on her Instagram last night.  It was her engagement party, why she wanted the spotlight on anyone else but her was beyond me.  But there it was in screaming color.  Niall and I holding onto each other, almost fused to each other while we shared a quick, private kiss on the dance floor.  

The picture was nice actually.  An intimate moment I probably would have put in a frame and kept by my bed for those nights when he was gone.  But now?  I wanted that picture to disappear.  

Word travels fast.  And in the One Direction fandom, it travels at twice the speed of light.  My sister posted the picture seven hours ago and there were already 3,281 comments on it.  I didn’t realize people could even type that fast.  Some of these girls wrote entire dissertations on why it is I was completely wrong for the boy I’d been dating for the past seven months.  

Keep reading


i am admittedly way too old for all of this lol. but i think my sister is having fun, so that’s all that matters. and i’m getting a massage this morning, so there’s also that lol.

ironic dyslexia

pairing: lin x reader (go figure)

prompt: dyslexic author writes a book that lin loves and he meets her and invites her to see hamilton

warnings: hastag makeout and swearing

word count: 3,069

a/n: happy to write some more for you all. this is one of my favorites. kind of pointless, very sweet. i love lin, but what’s new honestly (ps mY SISTER GOT ENGAGED AND IM SO HAPPY)

Masterlist / Prompt List

Today was hard. You could usually manage, but there was something about today that just made writing so fucking hard. God, you couldn’t even get through a paragraph without the little red line haunting every mistake you made while typing. You had an interview today with a publishing company - what if they asked you to read a chapter from your book? The job would be gone the first time you messed up your w’s and m’s. You groaned, pushing your computer away from you seat at the diner.

It was strange. You would go to type a ‘g’ and think, “g is the lowercase version of G,” and “G looks like a 6,” so you would type a 6. It took much longer for you to get your thoughts out, and you often had to stop and think about what you were writing. God, you hoped they wouldn’t give you a typing test. Do they even still do those?

The waiter brought over a plate of hash browns and your cup of coffee. You ate silently, hoping that maybe the food and caffeine would lift your moral. Dyslexia was hard enough, but being an author made it ten times worse.

Your mom laughed - actually laughed out loud - when you told her that you were writing your first book. She thought you had been completely joking. You pushed it though, not only proving her wrong, but more importantly proving to yourself that a disability wasn’t your definition.

And you did. Your first book was off the charts, every day gaining more attention and praise. You even did a segment on The Ellen Show; that’s what happens when you work your ass off.

You had just started packing up your laptop when a voice startled you.

“Excuse me?”

Your head turned quickly as you jumped back slightly. You settled when you realized it was just a young girl. She was kicking the ground, embarrassed. You laughed lightly, “Yes?”

She looked back up to you - she couldn’t be older than ten. “Are you Y/N?”

You nodded, “What can I do for you, love?”

Her smile grew. She pushed a piece of hair from eyes behind her ear, “My mom read me your book and it’s my favorite.”

Taking in a breath, you grinned. This was a whole new community of people that you hadn’t expected to reach, “Thank you so much, that means the world to me.”

She smiled a little bigger, “I have dyslexia too,” she said. Then, instantly embarrassed, she looked back down.

Your heart swelled; you were rarely confronted about your reading disability. Still, rather than being sheepish over the comment, you felt empowered - inspired even.

You leaned in a little closer, touching her shoulder. “Don’t ever let it stop you from doing what you love, okay?”

She looked back up, then nodding a little, she gave you a hug before running back to the table where her dad sat. He gave you a nod of gratitude before looking back to his daughter.

Honest to God, this had never happened to you before. Sure, you had met a few teens who had read your book, but never anyone younger. Even then, never someone who had felt empowered by reading your story. It was a story about a beach house for God’s sake. And they probably had no idea how many times you spelt ‘beach’ 'baech.’ Still, your heart smiled at the gesture. Maybe today wouldn’t be so hard after all.

Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you headed towards the door before you were stopped once again.

“Wait!” Someone called from behind you, your foot halfway out the door. You were rarely noticed in public - and especially not twice in one morning.

It was a man with a shoulder length hair, the top pulled back from his face. He had a book in his hand. It wasn’t until he was right in front of you that you recognized the cover; it was your book. You let a small smile escape, a blush flooding your cheeks. He was handsome.

He let out half a grin, “Y/N?” You nodded, cueing him to continue. “I’m a huge fan - I’m actually kind of awestruck right now and I’m rambling because you’re very pretty and very talented and -”

You laughed, interrupting him, “Thank you.”

He took in a sharp breath, shoving an outstretched hand towards you, “I’m Lin.”

You shook his hand, thinking about how Lin shouldn’t be too difficult to remember. “Y/N,” you greeted, hoping your hands weren’t too clammy.

After a moment of holding your hand too long, he quickly pulled back, scratching the back of his neck.

“What can I do for you?” You asked softly, bringing his eyes back to yours.

“Oh!” He laughed, extending the book towards you, “I was wondering if you could sign my book for me.”

You fished around your bag for a pen for a moment before realizing that he had a sharpie in his hand. You giggled before started writing in his book.

Lin -
     Thank you so much for reading my book. And don’t worry - your nervous ramble was adorable.

Rereading your note to make sure you hadn’t mixed any letters up, you debated on adding your phone number, but you figured that was much riskier than you felt like being.

He gratefully took the book back, shutting it before even reading it. Shaking his head slightly, he smiled, “My cast is going to flip.”

“Cast?” You questioned, suddenly confused.

“Uh, yeah - I’m in this musical about Alexander Hamilton.” He said sheepishly.

Your eyes went wide, “The one here?”

He nodded, “Why? Is there more than one?” He threw you a wink, making your heart skip despite your eye roll.

Still, you giggled before shaking your head, “I don’t think so. My sister just saw it a few weeks ago.”

He smiled with his entire face, “Really? What’d she think of it?”

“She said it was incredible.”

Lin laughed before doing a little dance, “I can try and score you some tickets - the cast would love to meet you. We’ve all read your book.”

You snatched his copy from his, causing his brows to furrow. Quickly, under your name you scribbled out your number. He smirked at the addition, accepting the book once more.

“Call me?” You asked, using your back to push the door open.

“Definitely,” he said, waving slightly as you walked off. Once you had turned around completely, he gave himself a power fist. “Go Lin,” he smirked.

And call he did. Ten minutes after you left the shop, actually.

“I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fake number,” he defended.

Feeling flirty, you teased back, “Why would I give a cute guy a fake number?”

“Because you’re way out of his league?” He curbed, making your face flush red.

“Tease,” you mumbled under your breath.

He called that night too: “I wanted to double check it wasn’t a fake number.”

“Lin, you already called me. You know it’s real.”

“Okay, maybe I just wanted to talk to you some more.”

And again in the morning, you hadn’t even gotten out of bed.

“Good morning!” He chirped, eliciting a groan out of you as you quickly turned down the volume on your phone.

“Too early,” you mumbled.

“Noted,” he said before continuing. “I got you a ticket for Friday night.”

This seemed to wake you up, “Really?”

He nodded before realizing you couldn’t see him, “Does that work?”

“Yeah,” you said, sitting up and smoothing back your hair. “What do I wear?” You thought aloud.

He laughed, “A dress. But comfortable. It’s a long show.”

“Okay,” you grinned, “Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” he answered quickly. “But you have to promise to meet the cast afterwards - they’ll be pissed if they know they didn’t get to meet you.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be the starstruck one.”

“Doubtful,” he said. You could practically hear his smirk through the phone.

You were writing again the next day. Your mind was elsewhere, thinking about Lin and what dress to wear and Friday. Still, when you went back to correct your mistakes, your writing had a different tone to it; much lighter and more fluid.

Friday came soon enough and you were a wreck. You had called your sister and explained what happened. She instantly gushed about how attractive Lin was - and how talented he was. You called him after, frustrated that he hadn’t told you he was the star of the show.

“You’re telling me that my writing is good, but you’re an Emmy winner for your musicals! I feel like you gassed me up.” You heard him laugh through the phone, making you frown. “Lin,” you whined.

“Okay, okay!” He giggled, “I play Alexander Hamilton in Hamilton, but I didn’t gas you up. I’m actually obsessed with your book.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. He only laughed again.

“You’re adorable,” he settled on, making you blush. “But seriously, Jasmine - you’ll meet her, she is so talented - was the first to read it, right? She gave it to Pippa - you’ll meet her too - and then Diggs -“

“His name is Diggs?”

“Daveed Diggs, he’s ridiculous. He’s a rapper.”


“And then they gave it to me because they wouldn’t shut up about the book, and they were annoyed that I couldn’t talk about it with them.”

You were smiling by now, listening smoothly, “So you’ve got a book club,” you teased.

He threw his head back, “I suppose you could call it that.”

The two of you talked for the rest of the night, by the time it was midnight, he suggested that you just come over.

“Lin, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Well, it depends how you look at it, in some parts of the world -“

“Lin,” you laughed. “For someone who has a never ending supply of energy, how is it that you don’t need sleep? It’s so ironic.”

He smiled into the phone, “Says the dyslexic author.”

You let out a hard laugh. It was new to laugh so freely about something that had limited you for so long. He wasn’t using it against you, simply acknowledging it.

“Too far?” He asked, suddenly nervous.

“Absolutely not. It feels good to laugh about it. To recognize it.”

Lin smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow at the show?”

“In a dress,” you returned.

“Goodnight,” he said, lingering.

“Goodnight, Lin,” you said. You waited a moment before handing up the phone. You fell asleep smiling that night.

You spent an hour picking out a dress. An hour. Even then, you settled on a simple low cut red dress - it wasn’t even that excessive! Still, you curled your hair and did your makeup, giving yourself ample time to get to the theater.

The show started at seven and you arrived around 6:30. A few people noticed who you were, a pair of teenage girls even asked if you were planning on writing more.

“I’m working on something right now, actually,” you smiled, playing the tease you knew you were.

Their eyes lit up as they begged for details. You laughed as you shook your head, “Sorry! You’ll just have to wait.”

After snapping a photo with them, you found your seat, still clutching your playbill. You flipped through the book, a paper falling out with the cast list on it. The cast changed frequently, so they used scrap paper instead of printing the bios and photos of the new actors. Your heart leapt when you saw Lin’s name across the dotted line of Alexander Hamilton.

The lights dimmed and the show began, the beat instantly pulling you in. You had no idea what you were in for, but boy, did you love it.

You weren’t sure what to do at the end of the show to be completely honest. After the final bow, you were overwhelmed to say the least. Sure, you had written a book. But that? Hamilton? They just made magic onstage.

You waited a few minutes before deciding to text him. What was he thinking? What were you thinking? You had absolutely no idea where to go or who to talk to. Before you could get your phone out of your bag, however, an usher had placed a hand on your arm.

“Miss L/N?” He smiled. When you nodded, he continued, “Mr. Miranda asked that I invite you backstage.”

A smile rushed your face as you followed him towards a back door, still gripping your playbill as if your life depended on it.

The guy who had played Hercules Mulligan was waiting for you behind the door. Thanking the usher, he pulled you back into the dark hallways with a grin so big it filled his face. He hugged you, making you jump for a moment before accepting the gesture and returning it quickly.

“I’m Oak, I love your book.” He said as he pulled away.

“I loved your performance,” you smiled, feeling awestruck.

He laughed but was abruptly shoved away, “Oh my gosh,” the girl behind him said.

“Jas, this is Y/N,” Oak introduced.

A curly head bobbed over, instantly hugging you, “You are one of my biggest inspirations.”

You took in a breath, softly thanking her before hugging her back. When you pulled away, you squinted before asking, “You’re Jasmine, right?”

She nodded quickly, slightly slapping Oak on the chest before turning and whispering, “She knows who I am.” Suddenly, Jasmine was pulled away from you to reveal a dressed down Lin. He had on some sweats and a black Hamilton tee. The sight of him made your heart skip. Who the hell looked that good in sweats? He was unreal.

He puffed up his cheeks before slowly breathing out.

“Hi,” you said.

Lin shook his head slightly before offering a hand and leading you away. Gratefully, you accepted. His hand left yours, resting on the small of your back, flooding your body with fire; making you burn.

His lips trailed to your ear, slowly breathing out, “You look incredible.” Electricity traveled down your spine as his words hit you.

You tried to push your smile down, but his hand fit perfectly and his hair was messy but he was so damn hot and you couldn’t help it.

“Only one person to dress for,” you quipped, moving a little closer to him, as if there was any room between you. He let out a soft groan, moving you more curtly to his dressing room.

He took a deep breath when he got into the room, as if to calm himself down. Lin pulled you to the couch, sitting much closer than two friends would.

“So what did you think?” He asked, nudging your shoulder, “Was your sister right?”

You let out a laugh before you nodded, “For the first time in her life.” You turned to face him. His grin made it’s way to his eyes, “You are ridiculously talented,” you said, still starstruck.

“Then I won’t let you see Javi play Hamilton. You might like him more than me,” he laughed. His laugh was breezy, like the conversation wasn’t filled with heat.

“Who says I like you?” You said, your brows furrowed, a teasing tone making its way off your lips.

“That dress,” he said quickly, easily. You let out small gasp, rarely allowing yourself to flirt so liberally. Speechless, you shook your head with a smile on your lips. He played off of this, taking your hand in his. “But seriously, you liked it?” He asked, turning the subject.

You nodded instantly, “It… was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

He rolled his eyes, “That’s exaggerating.”

“Maybe, but it was still amazing.” You shrugged.

He was closer than he was before. When did he get so close?

“You’re amazing,” he tried.

You crinkled your nose, “Cheesy.”

He giggled, placing his other hand on your cheek before touching his lips to yours. Melting immediately, your hands found his neck and you pulled him closer. His hands dropped back to your hips as his lips molded yours. Your lips parted as his kisses got longer, hotter. You sighed into him, tugging his hair lightly when he nipped your bottom lip. The fire in your chest had traveled to every part of your body and you had never felt so good.

“Dude! Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was here - oh shit!” Someone yelled, barging into the dressing room and causing you two to pull apart. Accidentally, you smacked Lin in the face as you jumped back to the end of the couch.

“Shit,” you both groaned, you in embarrassment, him in pain. Reaching towards him, your placed your hand back to his jaw where it had previously been in much different context.

He laughed lightly, “I’m okay,” he assured you. Your eyes were still worried so he leaned forward and pecked your lips once more, making you smile.

A curly haired boy walked in sheepishly alongside Jasmine. Lin laughed, flopping back on the couch. “Go figure.” He laughed.

The boy furrowed his brows, letting out a slight huff.

Throwing a hand up, he introduced you, “Anthony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Anthony.”

You offered a small wave, your blush undeniable. Quickly, Jasmine broke the tension with a laugh, “You couldn’t even lock the door, Lin?”

Lin face palmed, slapping a hand over his eyes. You looked down, trying not to giggle (and failing). Maybe it was the way Jasmine leaned so easily against the counter, like this was something enjoyable for her to see, or maybe the way Lin had kept one hand around your waist during the entire affair, but you weren’t nearly as embarrassed as you should be.

“We’re going to get some pizza if you want to come,” Anthony said, scratching the back of his neck.

Jasmine was quick to kid, just like Lin, “Unless you guys are preoccupied.”

Lin groaned, standing up and ushering out the door, mumbling something in Spanish before turning back to you, “I am so sorry.”

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it. I love your cast.”

He was back to the couch, sitting just as close as he had before. “Oh yeah?” He grinned, giving you no time to respond before his lips were back on yours.

In Over Their Heads

A Yuri on Ice Fanfic
Written for @seungchuchuweek

Sara laughed at him for three minutes straight. And, yes, he did time it. She tried to say something twice, and both times collapsed back into laughter.

“Honestly, I can’t take it. My sides hurt.” She finally gasped out.

“It isn’t funny.”

“Seung Gil, it is sooo funny, you don’t even know.”

“It’s your fault.”

“I said “or you could be a coward and say you are with someone.” The first half of my advice was “Tell her you aren’t interested.” So clearly it’s yours.“

“I tried your first advice. She insisted she could change whatever I didn’t like, including getting plastic surgery.” Seung Gil scowled. Sara was skating that night, so dumping his problems on her probably wasn’t fair. Seeing as she seemed so amused, though, he didn’t feel the least bit guilty.

Sara wrinkled her nose. “Well, that does sound a bit creepy. So you told her you were engaged, though? I mean, couldn’t you have just said dating?”

“I said I was with someone and she demanded to know if we were serious. Any hint otherwise seemed likely to make the whole confrontation pointless.”

“Okay, so she posts her heartbreak online where, of course, it goes viral.”

“My coach called me at 4 am, Sara. 4 am. She didn’t even wait til practice.”

“Yikes…” Sara grimaced. “Okay, so now it’s all over the web, and the reporters are starting to drop hints because they want to break the story. Except there is no story.”


Keep reading

Your Sister My Lover

Imagine being Selina Kyle’s sister not knowing she Catwoman and being engaged to Bruce knowing that he was Batman.

Relationship: Family and Lover

Fandom: DC

Character: Selina and Bruce

You and your sister Selina always tried to put each other first, Selina did a better job at it since she could pickpocket. You on the other hands stuck to tricking tourist out of their money with your unwinnable games. Both went to a horrible public school on the east end of Gotham. Working hard you both graduated top of your class and went to college. You worked at nights and saved up money for school. Your boss a sweet man allowed you to live in an apartment above the diner for half price. Selina would often crash at your place and helped pay the bills when she did. You never knew where she got her money but you guessed still from pickpocketing. Once you got a degree you just application for every major company in Gotham and even out of Gotham. Wayne Inc. quickly scooped you up, you started from the bottom but soon climb to the top. That was how you met the love of your life, Bruce Wayne.

Keep reading




I’d decided to book a week off work, with no ulterior motive than to just have some time off. Just giving myself a little room to breathe, some time to clear my head, to relax and immerse myself in having no worries and doing absolutely nothing; to be blissfully un-busy.
By the Monday afternoon I was bored.

I was stood looking around my flat in silence, arms folded, bottom lip extended, and it was only in that moment that I realised being un-busy didn’t really suit me. Not anymore. Maybe when I was younger, it was fine, but after having a full-time job and living on my own had awoken this need in me to actually keep myself busy.

“Well fuck.” I mumbled to myself. “This is rubbish.”

I’d made such a fuss about taking the time off. Dave had once again been reluctant, but I’d fought another battle and he’d finally caved. I couldn’t ring up and just be like I’ve changed my mind because he’d laugh and get smug, and I’d spend the rest of the week at that sat at that desk being utterly miserable.
I needed to try and make the most of this time off.
I picked up my phone and clicked on my recent calls, finding Harry’s name within seconds and then pressing it, holding the phone up to my ear and praying he’d be free. The rest of the gang were at work, Mo was working, and Harry was one of my final hopes.
He answered pretty quickly.

“Hey, you.” His tender voice called.

“Hi! You okay?”

“I’m great, how are you?”

“I’m alright, but I’m bored. I booked a week off work and I have no idea why. I’m like… four hours in and I’m bored out of my mind.”

He released a low chuckle, a slight shuffling sound pushing through my speakers, and I could picture his dimpled smile perfectly.

“You regretting it?” He asked.

“Well, that depends. Are you working?”

“No, um, I’m working the weekend so I have today and tomorrow off. You wanna do something?”

“I need to do something.”

“So you’re using me for entertainment?”

“Are you complaining?” I raised my brows.

“Not at all.”

I smiled down to the floor, blushing somewhat, pleased that he didn’t mind that he was now on my list of people who I wanted to spend my time with. Harry was happy that I was choosing him to keep me occupied; to extinguish my boredom.

“Good. You better not be.” I cooed. “So, what can we do?”

“I was thinking the other day, about the book you got me for Christmas. I was looking through it. I still love it, by the way.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“But I was also thinking… you never took me down to that bookstore. Where you got it from. You said you would.”

“I did.” I giggled.

“So let’s go, and we’ll take the day from there.”


I was looking at Harry rather than looking at the literature.
His eyes were glistening as he glanced over the words of a giant book he’d picked out, something historical that looked ridiculously complicated and ridiculously heavy.
But he looked so happy.
Stood among the poetry and wonder of the written word, Harry Styles looked exquisitely blissful, his smile affectionate, his curls defined, eyes alight and heart heavy. He looked wonderful. Truly beautiful.
I concentrated on his large hands as he flicked through a few more pages, running his hands down the paper and inhaling the scent of the book in his hands and those that surrounded him.
The bookstore was tiny, and every single shelf looked like it could fall apart at any second under the weight of the books they’d homed. Every single inch of the place needed painting, or at least dusting, but it was perfect. It felt like home whenever I walked in. Dodging down those tiny little aisles and searching for hidden treasures was one of my favourite things to do.
Harry seemed to be enjoying it too.

“I need this book.” He sighed wistfully. “But we have entire day planned, and it’s just gunna weigh me down, isn’t it?”

“It looks heavy.”

“It’s pretty fucking heavy.” He nodded, placing it back on the shelf. “I’ll have to come back another day. I hope it’s not gone.”

“It won’t be. I’m pretty sure Arthur only has about ten people who come in here. He knows everyone by name. He’s great.”

“Well, I need to meet him.”

“You do. C’mon.”

I instinctively took his hand in mine, pulling him towards the back of the store, whispering a timid curse to myself when I noticed Harry tightened his fingers around my hand. I thought back to when we’d shared a taxi just over a week ago, and found our fingers intertwining, and it had felt like the most normal thing in the world.
It didn’t feel normal in the light of day without a drink in me. I could tell that it was weird that I’d just naturally take his hand in mine and think barely anything of it. I found that my fingers wove through his like silk, our touches easing together.
And even though I was silently cringing as I dragged him in the right direction, wondering how we’d ended up being that way together, I still didn’t want to pull my hand from his. I liked that I could feel his thumb rubbing against my skin, like a silent comfort. I liked that my hand was stretched to suit the size of his grasp.
I liked everything about it.

“Arthur!” I yelled gently.

We stood behind the tiny counter at the back, our hands still linked, and a few moments later he pottered through the back door, his glasses falling off the end of his nose before he pushed them back up, bringing the two of us into focus.

“Florence!” His smile grew with the word. “Where’ve you been?”

“I’ve been busy, but I’ve still been raving about this place, don’t worry.” I giggled. “I brought a friend of mine. This is Harry.”

Harry automatically reached his hand across the counter to the frail man, who reached back, and his smile warmed my soul.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Harry greeted.

“I can’t remember the last time someone called me sir.” Arthur chuckled, gently shaking his hand.

“I told Harry all about this place. He’s been very eager to visit.”

“You have a lovely store.” Harry returned his hand to his side, squeezing my own hand with his other. “It’s a great collection.”

“Thank you. I’m very glad you like it. What’s your name again, sorry?”


“And are you Florence’s boyfriend?”

“No!” He replied quickly, the two of us speedily tearing our touch apart. “We’re just um… We’re good friends.”

Arthur let out a soft snigger, shaking his head at the two of us. I glanced up to Harry, seeing the quizzical look in his eyes, and the sweet smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’ve read enough novels to know how that turns out.” Arthur finally said.

“You must have been reading some cheesy novels.” I tried to diminish the weight of the words he’d just said.

“All the great novels are.” He concluded.

Freckles of pink were blooming in Harry’s cheeks, a meadow of flushed roses crafting upon his soft skin as he looked towards his feet, bashful and giddy over just a few words.
My stomach bounced watching him.
My head ached watching him.
I’d told myself that I wanted to enter this new stage of our friendship with an open mind and an open heart, but it still felt completely bizarre when my stomach would flip over such minor tremors in his body, how sometimes even just a few words from his lovely lips could make my heart beat a little harder. It wasn’t a feeling I was accustom to. Watching him often felt like watching the sunset. This feeling that was overwhelming, consuming, magnificent and warm, like his splendid glow could illuminate every single person within reach of his light.
No one else had that effect on me. I knew that.

“Uh, I… It was lovely to meet you.” Harry choked, snapping me back to reality as I turned to look away from him. “I’m sure I’ll see you very soon.”

“Have a lovely day.” He wished.

“Thanks again, Arthur.” I said, gradually turning on my heel.

It was like I felt like being outdoors would clear my head, like I could just forget Arthurs knowing snigger and that Harry would no longer feel like a warm sunset, but just like every other person in my life. I thought being outside would wash away those couple of minutes that had made me feel so weird and flustered. I felt like I’d gotten lost in a world I wasn’t familiar with, maybe one of the worlds from one of the surrounding novels.
But when I finally got outside, I turned to watch Harry quickly following, his cheeks still pink.
It was my universe.
They were my feelings.
Accompanied by the sound of seagulls, and the boats that were pulled into the docks on my left hand side, I began marching down the street, thinking I was moving with speed, but it took no effort for Harry to keep up with me. Harry and his stupid, long legs.

“You alright?” He asked me.

I knew he’d pick up on something, because Harry was used to slowing his pace down to accommodate for me. I was running away again, like I always did, but I was trying to keep it discrete.

“I’m fine.” I shuddered, not turning to face him.

“You sure?”

Suddenly, I stopped, halting abruptly and taking a few deep breaths, forcing myself to just take a moment and calm down, because I was getting worked up.
Harry came and stood ahead of me, his brows creased as he looked down to me.

“My sisters having an engagement party next month.” I gasped.


“I don’t think I’m gunna go.” I focused my gaze on the ground.


“What the fuck has she ever done for me?”

I was taking one emotion and twisting it into another. I had been completely dumbfounded by those unfamiliar thoughts of Harry, and I couldn’t deal with them. So, I altered where my thoughts were, turning his potion into poison and conjuring up the thought of my sister.

“What?” Harry was completely thrown off course by my tone.

“She hasn’t ever done anything for me.” I was shaking. “And-and we’re not even close. I want her to feel fucking miserable when I don’t show, because she’s never done anything for me.”

I was working myself into a frenzy, barely pausing to breathe as I rushed through my words, barely even noting what I was saying. I just felt like I needed to say something; anything to take my mind to somewhere new.

“I think she’d be upset, if you didn’t show, Ren.” Harry spoke gently.

“Good!” I cried. “I want her to be upset!”

“Is that the type of person you’re gunna be? Really? The type of person who repeats hurtful actions rather than loving ones?”

I raised my head and looked at him, noticing that my bitter words had clearly left a bad taste in his mouth.
The girl stood in front of him wasn’t the girl he knew.
She wasn’t someone I knew, either.
Throughout all the years of being beaten down by my family, I’d never let it grow into a resentment. I’d never let it develop into something where I felt the need to beat them down, too.

“I… I dunno.” I finally breathed.

“You shouldn’t want to stoop to her level, Ren. You’ve always made a conscious effort to rise above that bullshit. Don’t change now! Don’t mimic her! Your only intention here is to hurt her, and that’s not you! I know it’s not.”

He was desperately trying to get through to me, trying to push out this weird anger that had just forced itself upon me.

“I… I don’t want to hurt anyone.” I muttered.

“Then don’t hurt her. You… You should go. Do what you’ve always done and rise above it. I know it must be easy, for me to say that,” He sighed. “But you… You’re an amazing person, Ren. I admire you, genuinely. Stay true to yourself, please. You’ve come so far.”

I nodded, swallowing harshly, feeling sad that I’d let an anger fall over me and be the most prominent feeling I had.
I knew I’d never been good at handling my emotions, but in that moment, I completely lost myself, just in an attempt not to deal with something that I was feeling.

“Will you come with me?” I asked him.


“To-to her engagement-do? It’s okay if you don’t want to, but, you made things easier over Christmas. And I’m guessing it’ll be the first time I see my mum and dad since. So, I dunno. I think I’d just like it if you were there.”

He was silent for a while, rubbing the back of his hand over one of his tired eyes.
Suddenly, all I could think about was if he’d had another tough night, another evening of restless sleep, and no one there to comfort him.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He huffed. “I mean, they think we’ve broke up. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

My eyes went wide, my fingers finding the material of my coat and pulling on it, mumbling to myself a little before I managed to blurt out a sentence.

“Uh… Well… The thing is… I actually never told my parents we broke up.” His head whipped to me as soon as I said that. “I just… I never got round to it… Or… Fuck it, I just didn’t want to tell them. I wanted them to think we were still together.”

I watched a smile force itself upon his lips, and a few seconds later he just burst out laughing, turning on his heel and marching in the other direction, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head.

“What?” I cried, doing a little jog to catch up with him. “What?”

I looked up to the side of his face, his dimple digging into his cheek and his nose beginning to crinkle, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It’s just funny.” He shrugged. “Because I never told my parents we split up either.”


I could tell that Harry was smug about the fact that he was sat on the opposite side of the bar than he usually was, Louis shaking his head at the two of us as he made us a second lot of cocktails, once again, free of charge.
Harry had a smirk etched into his face the entire time.

“I’m gunna slap you!” Louis scalded.

Why?” Harry played innocent.

“You’re very pleased with yourself, aren’t you? That you’re not working and I am.”

“It’s just fun! I never come into work unless I’m actually working. I like it.”

“I fucking don’t.”

Louis and Harry could have been mean to each other all night, and it would still be painfully obvious how much they cared for each other. Louis had been one of the few people that Harry trusted when it came to his dreams, and that made me like him automatically. I had met Louis a few times, and of course I liked him anyway, but that fact merely increased how highly I thought of him.
He gave Harry the middle finger, but it was still ridiculously endearing.

“How’ve you been, Ren?” He turned to me, lifting his eyebrows, very suggestive.

It was a little strange, knowing that whenever our friends saw us spending time together, they would automatically predict we were getting back together. Whenever one of them gave me a look, like the one Louis just had, I really wanted to burst and tell them that we’d never been together. I was trying to figure out how I felt about Harry, and I could have really done with being able to do that without my friends and his friends eyeing our every move. It seemed to put all of our movements under a magnifying glass, and when I was trying to keep things realistic and simple, I didn’t like my feelings and my actions being amplified by others.

“I’ve been good. How have you been, Louis?”

“Other than having to work with this horrible bastard,” He gestured towards Harry. “I’ve been pretty good.”

“And you’re not feeling even just a little bit sad that you’re not on this side, drinking with us?” I smirked, batting my eyelashes.

“You’re as bad as each other you two!” He slammed our drinks in front of us. “I gotta go serve. I’ll be back in a minute. And you both better start being nice to me!”

He scurried off to his left, attending to a woman who was leaning across the bar, probably just in the hope of being a little closer to him, squishing her breasts together and smiling dumbly.
It didn’t surprise me when I saw Louis pass over his card to her after preparing her order.

“Today was good.” Harry smiled, drawing my eyes back to him. “Will you be bored tomorrow, too? We could do something.”

“You not bored of me?” I raised my brows.

“That’s never gunna happen.”

Once again, I found my head dropping, unable to look him in the eye as I giggled to myself, overcome by his aura once again.
I just wasn’t used to boys looking at me in the way that Harry did. I wasn’t used to having a boy watch me with low eyes and a huge smile, or the way he always sat close to me, held himself as close as possible. I was used to either being a temporary interest to a charmless male, or a despondent sidepiece to a boy who didn’t really care about me.
When Harry looked at me and said certain things, sometimes it felt otherworldly.
I looked back up, finally thinking up a suitable comeback which could get a laugh out of him and make it easier to ignore how flustered I’d become, but the words died in my mouth.
I watched as a girl came and tapped Harry on the shoulder, inviting him to turn and see her, and she was quite the sight.

“Sorry for interrupting, but don’t you work here?” She asked him.

“Uh… Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“I’ve seen you before.” She took it upon herself to sit in the seat beside him. “You look different with your hair down.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.” Harry turned so he wasn’t just facing me, accepting the girls company.

She had these beautiful, giant blue eyes, long blonde hair that reached almost down to her hips, and the friendliest smile in the world. Even I felt a little captivated by her. I wouldn’t have blamed Harry if he’d opted to completely turn away from me.

“It’s definitely a compliment. Even though, you look good with your hair up, too.”

I could feel that my hands were forming into a fist, a large intake of air pushing into my nostrils, and I turned away from the interaction. I almost felt sick.

“Uh, thank you.” Harry nodded.

“So, I saw you hand one of those cards out the other night,” She continued, leaning a little closer. “Does that mean you’re single?”

I glanced to her again, annoyed because she was being ridiculously polite and she seemed frustratingly lovely and yet I still felt like telling her to fuck off. I couldn’t even understand what was happening, other than the fact that I hated the thought of him handing his number out, and I hated the thought of this girl speaking to him in the way she was.
And I hated the thought of Harry sleeping with some girl that he didn’t even care about.
Because this was how I imagined it had gone. He’d been in a bar, maybe he’d even been working, and some random girl had approached him and flirted with him, and put her body on his, and he’d accepted her affections. He’d accepted them so openly that he’d lost his virginity to her, probably without her knowledge that it wasn’t a meaningless one night stand to him. He’d lost something within a woman who wasn’t aware of what she was taking, and I hated that.
I really fucking hated it.

“Uh, yeah.” Harry eventually answered, seemingly slightly uncomfortable as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m single.”

“Then, can I have one of those cards?” She questioned.

I looked away again, raising my glass upward and putting the tip of the straw in my mouth, noticing from the corner of my eyes as Harry leant forward slightly, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a card for her.
My hands started to shake.
I completely looked away, glancing down to the other side of the bar, seeing the faces of happy drinkers who weren’t fazed by this girl. Fuck, I shouldn’t have been fazed by her, but I was. I didn’t want to think about all the reasons I was bothered by her, because it was too overwhelming for me to handle, but she was really fucking bothering me, and if I thought for a second that I had a single leg to stand on, I would have asked her to leave him alone.

“I’ll call you.” I heard her say. “What’s your name?”


“I’m Genevieve.”

“Nice to meet you.” He mumbled.

“I hope to see more of you soon.”

I plucked up the courage to look again, watching as she walked away, checking back over her shoulder to shoot him one last friendly smile, and then she went to join her friends again.
Harry ran a hand through his hair before twisting on his chair again to face me, and he seemed a little stuck for something to say.

“She was pretty.” I squeaked, my voice unnaturally high, my eyes on my drink.


“But I’m sure you’re used to it. Handing out your card. Must be a nice confidence boost.”

“Look at me.”

“You must really-”

“Ren, look at me!” He almost yelled.

I turned to face him, biting my tongue and trying not to scrunch my nose, watching him look at my face and figure out my exact emotion.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you jealous?”

“No.” I didn’t know I was lying, but I was.

“If I had known you were going to get jealous, I wouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” I squawked. “I’m fine!”

“You’re a terrible liar!” He half laughed. “Are you jealous? Just tell me!”

“I don’t know!” I yelped. “I don’t know how I feel!”

I could feel myself getting worked up and frustrated, but then I saw him smiling, this huge grin popping his lips upwards, the feeling began to wash away.

“You’re jealous.”

“Why is that funny to you?”

“Just… You. You’re jealous about me with someone else. I… I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”

“It doesn’t mean anything!” I argued.

“It means something.” He fought back. “I don’t know what, exactly. Not yet. But it means something.”

“It’s just rude to flirt like that when you have company.” I shrugged, still reluctant to accept that I’d felt a large dosage of jealousy.

“Then I won’t do it again.” He was still grinning like a fool. “I’ll focus all my flirting on you, if that’s what you want.”

“Don’t be stupid, Harry.”

“Okay.” He held his hand up in surrender. “Whatever you say.”

I’d given Harry another reason to be smug, because as much as I was denying it, not just to him but to myself, I was exceptionally jealous about that girl, and how she’d spoke to him, and how she’d acted with him, and the fact that he’d willingly handed over his number in the way he had.
I stirred my drink with straw, whispering my next statement, because maybe I didn’t fully want him to hear it.

“I don’t think I have any right to be jealous.”

He reached out to me, taking my hand and wrapping his own around it, and his touch managed to sooth the shakes that I’d had since she approached him.

“Don’t let anyone, or anything, convince you that the way you feel isn’t justified.” He soothed.

With a deep inhale, I nodded, wondering why everyone in my life was having to teach me how I should deal with my emotions. I’d become so accustom to running from them, so used to looking the other way and simplifying intricate things.
But the main thing was that I was taking all those lessons on board, and even if my progress was slow, things were finally starting to sink in. That was what mattered the most to me.


“How many days until Christmas?” Harry asked me as we turned onto my street.

“What?” I laughed, buttoning up my coat now that the wind was crashing into us directly.

“How many days until Christmas?”

“I don’t bloody know!” I laughed. “Loads. Why?”

“I wanna sing Fairytale of New York to you.”

“Oh god. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Yes you do!” He objected. “Don’t lie! I know you loved it.”

I had loved it, though I didn’t really want to tell him that, and it was only the 20th of March for crying out loud. I wasn’t ready to hear that bloody song yet.
Even if it was Harry drunkenly trying to sing the words again.
Neither of us were too drunk, but I knew Harry had consumed enough that he would be able to get a decent night’s sleep, and I liked that. He deserved to have a lovely night’s sleep.
I felt like maybe Harry deserved a lot of things he didn’t have.

“You’re a fool.” I told him.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” He asked next.

“Who said we’re doing anything?” I cried.

“Me. I demand that we spend the day together.”

“You demand?” I cried.

“Yes. I demand.”

I laughed to myself as I held the door open for him, letting him inside my building again.
I’d told him I’d be fine getting home on my own, but once again, Harry had been pretty insistent that he got me home and made sure I was safe. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t fight it, just asked if we could walk. Maybe I just wanted a bit of extra time with him.
We took the few flights of stairs, and suddenly we’d ran out of words. It must have been one of the first times all day that I’d struggled for something to say. Even when I’d been overwhelmed by my feelings and even when I’d gotten jealous of that girl, I’d still managed to blurt something out, because speaking to Harry was incredibly easy for me.
Even though we weren’t speaking, I noticed as we wandered up the stairs, that he was still smiling, and I smiled in return.
We reached my floor too quickly, our wonderful day together coming to an end, and even though I hadn’t actually said I’d spend the next day with him, I couldn’t help but think that as soon as I awoke, I would call him and make some kind of plan with him.

“Thank you, for today.” I spoke quietly as we walked down the corridor.

“Ren, can you just… stop… for a minute? Please?”

Suddenly his tone had dropped, and his smile was gone. The seriousness in his voice made my stomach churn, but I did as he asked. I stopped, standing still and turning to face him, seeing the way he closed the gap between us, his eyes down to his feet, moving his body closer to mine.
I took a few steps back, shuddering under the intense atmosphere, almost collapsing as he lifted his head and focused his eyes against mine.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

“I need to know how you feel.”


“Ren, if you feel anything for me, please let me know.”


“Because if you feel something for me, then I want to do this differently.”

I distanced even more, my back crashing against the wall behind me, but Harry pushed ever closer, the front of his body almost greeting mine as I looked up into his olive eyes, his face sombre.

“Do what differently?”

“If you feel something for me, then I want to do this properly. I want to… take you out on a date. I want to… know that I can hold your hand when we walk down the street together. Fuck, I want to hold your hand all the time.”

“You do?” I trembled.

“If this is just a friendship, that’s fine… But, it feels like it’s not. It really fucking feels like there’s something here, and if there is then I want to do this properly. I need to know how you feel. Please tell me how you feel.”

My breathing was coming out in harsh pants, desperate to run again, but I think that’s why he cornered me. He knew me well enough that if I could just walk away from it, I would. So he didn’t let me.
He raised his hand, cupping my cheek with his large hand, running his thumb under my eye and waiting for me to say something to him, to open up and tell him how I felt.

“I-I’m confused.” I nudged my cheek further into his touch.

“I feel like the only reason you’re confused about this, is because you’re still convinced that I don’t want you. Well, I’m here, now, and I’m telling you I do. I do want you.”

I told him that I would do this, that I would accept this new stage of our friendship, but I think one of the reasons I was still in confused, and hesitant, was because I had convinced myself that Harry wouldn’t feel anything towards me. As much as I was trying to grow, it still didn’t seem right to me that a boy like Harry could want a girl like me. I hadn’t let myself truly see that as an option.
Not until that very moment.
He was there, edging closer and closer to me, so close I could feel his breath against my lips. He was rubbing soothing circles over the skin on my face, and he was telling me he wanted me. He didn’t want a fake relationship with me, he didn’t just want the girl who comforted him in the middle of the night when he was scared.
He wanted me.

“Can… Can we go inside, please?” I quaked. “Can we go inside and talk about this? Just… sit down and talk about everything?”

“Fuck, Ren… I don’t want you to think I’m trying to rush you. I’m not trying to rush you, fuck. I just want… fuck.”

“You’re not rushing me.” I moved my hand, lacing my fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “It’s fine. Let’s… Let’s just go and talk.”

He nodded, biting his bottom lip before he finally pulled away from me, distancing our lips once more, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it.
I smashed my head back against the wall, trying to find the stamina to move and follow him as he made his way towards the door to my flat, running his hand through his hair. I stayed in my spot and watched him, clearly trying to soothe his racing mind, rolling his shoulders before he reached out for my door handle.

“Ren, you didn’t fucking lock it again.” He managed to chuckle.

That made me laugh too, finally feeling normal enough to distance from the wall and walk the small distance down towards him.

“Woops.” I giggled.

“You’re such-”

I watched his face drop as soon as he pushed the door fully open, standing on the outside and looking into my flat with dead eyes.
I stopped myself still, just seeing his reaction.

“What’s wrong?” I gasped.

“Ren… I… Fuck.”

I quickly ran to his side, panicked as I approached him and turned, looking into my flat in the same way he was.
It wasn’t hard to miss what had made him react that way.
It was easier to see how trashed the place was at first, how things were strewn all over the hall, my TV shattered on the floor beside my door.
I took a step inside, slowly turning to look into my living room.
That’s when it became clear that most of my possessions, the ones that were easy enough to carry, were missing.
That’s when it became clear that my complete ineptness had resulted in my flat being burgled.

Just Having Fun, chapter 1: Clarke Fucking Griffin



In which Bellamy Blake has a crush on Clarke Griffin, but he pretends his heart isn’t involved at all. He knows how to have fun without strings. That’s all they’re doing. No matter what Miller says or the way Finn Collins Glares at him.

Also in which Bellamy Blake likes the word ‘fuck.’


For you guys who were asking for a new chapter, from The Arkadias,  this is the same story but Bellamy’s POV. 

Bellamy’s POV from The Arkadias. 

Chapter 1 Read on AO3

 Clarke Fucking Griffin

Bellamy was late to work. It was a dumb job, but until he figured out what he wanted to do with his life other than just getting through it, it was as good a job as any.

He was walking down Bleeker Street, kind of zoning out, to be honest, when his eye caught on a pretty blonde waitress standing outside of a cafe. Very pretty. She was just his type, curvy and bright haired, just like his hopeless crush in college.

He stopped.


The waitress WAS his hopeless crush from college.

He stood there staring for a bit, reeling a little. She was two years younger than him, a freshman working in the library when he met her. So sweet and freaking innocent she didn’t even have a clue that he was dreaming dirty things about her at night, and talking about art and books and politics with her during the day. A princess.


And here she was now, writing intensely on her little notepad, not even realizing he was staring at her. God. She was even hotter now. Wearing a miniskirt, with those legs, and doc martin boots. Her shirt was scooped low in front and her cleavage was outrageous. Her hair had gotten a lot longer since college and he kind of wanted to knot his fists in it.

Holy shit.

She was writing on a little pad that fit in her hand and he suddenly recognized that look. That totally invested, passionate, creative, intense look she got when she was writing. He remembered their one creative writing course they took together and how good she was at it and how talented and how he kept trying not to tell her that she’d be wasted in med school, and how he wanted to, always, have her closer.

But here she was, definitely not becoming a doctor, and she was writing with that look. She looked like she’d worn off some of that innocence, too, which made something inside of him tighten in anticipation. And he got a very bad, kind of unethical, idea.

Keep reading

Feeling so much better in my body and my mind this morning. Some nights are tough….I did the following to help me get through!

- Allowed myself to experience painful emotion
- Observed and described the sadness without letting it overwhelm me
- Talked to a loved one about what I was feeling
- Asked myself where the ED thoughts were coming from, WHY I suddenly needed that sense of comfort
- Used healthy distraction (watched tv, played a game with my sister)
- Engaged in positive self talk and affirmations
- Made a meal plan compliant breakfast for the next day so I would have no excuse
- Went to bed early

Funny True Story...

So, how do I even begin to tell you this story. Well, it all started when I got online and went to a live chat, on Youtube. My name was my actual name for the first little bit, and I chatted with people as one does at that sort of thing. 

So a lot happened (I got to know the other chatters, I changed my name to Fox Mulder, and I introduced my sister into the chat) Here’s where things get interesting, (okay, I’m only going to use first names for… Privacy?)

 My sister and I were talking it up, not cat-fishing people, but we weren’t totally honest (But who is?) And before I get into things, here are a few key characters you need to know.

Kevin who is a complete douchebag and got in arguments about everything, Ryan is the guy who told me how to buy pot (Not kidding), a person by the name of C.C. who was a bit jealous, and Jack, the romantic. 

C.C. (The jealous one) started talking with my sister, and things got hot and heavy. Nothing dirty, but they were getting to know each other. And remember, this is a GROUP chat, everyone can see everything that’s being said. 

While my sister and C.C. where hitting it off, I was just talking casually with other chatters, when along comes Ryan. 

Ryan was the guy who was defending the A-hole Kevin through the whole chat, so I automatically didn’t like him, but I let him talk to me.

 So he says “Hey what’s up?” and I’m all like  "Not much, just stressed.“ And then he says that weed would help with the stress. I’ve never done weed nor do I plan on ever doing weed, so naturally I tell him I don’t know how to get any. 

He then gives me advice about how to get some. (Not gonna say it, sorry to crush your dreams) And I tell him thanks but no thanks. 

While I’m doing that, my sister and C.C. are drifting apart, slowly but surely. He’ll miss a message or she’ll not reply for a little bit, and then along comes Jack. 

Jack starts boldly, talking to my sister who was already hitting it off with C.C., but that doesn’t deter Jack, he’s in it to win it. He starts talking to my sis, and C.C. disappeared, and soon enough, it was just Jack my sister was talking to.

 And we jump back to me. So, Ryan, who’s tight with Evil Kevin, pulls me into his group. Now, they think I’m a guy, because, well, I never corrected them, and I am literally lol-ing with the big bad himself, Kevin. This fact makes me uncomfortable, so I take a break and go to a different chat room, leaving my sister alone in the other one.

 I met some nice people in the other one, and they were older and slower paced (Not that that’s bad) After a while I got bored and headed back to the
original group, coming in with a loud (All caps) message of my return.

 And by now I figure, I’m in with the D-bags, might as well play the part. I didn’t bully anyone or say anything mean, I just used ”Bro“, “Know what I mean?”, and “I feel you” a lot in my sentences. 

Once back in the group, I see that things are getting pretty good with my sister
and Jack. So, obviously, I started #MysisterandJack, and soon enough, there were at least six or seven of us, that shipped them. One girl even started asking if they were gonna get married. 

Jack started sending my sister hearts (emojis, not real hearts) and the likes, when C.C. shows back up again, asking what my sister is doing. Me, being the dummy that I am, decides I should talk to C.C., make sure they don’t ruin things for my sister.

Reminder, I’m in cahoots with Ryan and Kevin, so I’ve got like a reputation. I don’t say anything threatening, I just ask C.C. what’s what, and they were cool about it, backing off quickly with no hard feelings. 

And again, when I get back to paying attention to what my sister is doing, I come to learn that Jack sent her a ring (Again, emoji) They were engaged. And this girl, same girl who asked if they were gonna get married, was asking my sister when the wedding was. (This is a joke wedding, not real, don’t worry

So, here I am, planning my sisters wedding to a guy she met in a chat room that very same day, and I’m planning this with some girl who ships them harder than I do. 

My sister and Jack started messaging about getting a house and where their honeymoon was going to be, and one guy had the audacity to tell them, and I quote “Don’t get married” And that set me, and the other shippers, off. We boycotted, and hounded that guy until he left the chat.

No one else opposed to the wedding after that, in fact, Ryan, the drugs guy, and my “friend”, even endorsed it. He said “You have my blessing, so long as you name your first child Kevin” Always the loyal one, that Ryan. 

But then it happened, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I looked at the clock, and what I saw wasn’t pretty. I had spent more than five hours on the chat. Five hours. That was all of my day. I knew I had to get off, and get food, and sleep, call my mom and tell her I love her, but I didn’t want to miss the wedding.

 As it turns out, my sister wanted out too, so we both decided to leave, wash our hands of it. I said my goodbye, which went a little something like this, “Yo!! listen up, people. I’m leaving now, ‘cause I have some real life things to get to. I had a lot of fun, but I gotta go now. Sister and Jack? I will always ship them. Always. And Ryan, I will actually miss you. Now, if you don’t mind, goodbye. Peace!”

 And after that, the chat blew up (Like eight people) with people saying goodbye to Fox Mulder (me) Jack, the girl who was planning the wedding
with me, Kevin, and some random dude, all said goodbye to me. Even C.C. said goodbye, something which shocked me, but I embraced it. 

But the one that got me was so short, and so simple. It was from Ryan, who had by now, become a good friend. He said, “I will miss you more than you know <3” I think somehow, he knew I was a girl, not sure how and not sure why, but I have my suspicions.

 And then was the sad goodbye of my sister and Jack. My sister wrote out this long, heart-felt letter (Text) and with tears streaming down her face (She wasn’t actually crying) she pressed send. 

And do you know what happened? Nothing. Nobody said anything to her. They didn’t even acknowledge she had said something. (well, I wonder which one of us was more popular

So, her, being her usual self, wrote another one, this time yelling at people, it was… dramatic.

 And then she got her rightful send off (Like 6 people) None of whom were Jack. 

She sighed in sadness and disappointment as she started to swipe down and close the chat, when the little name Jack popped up at the bottom of the chat. “Wait, I’m here. I thought we were gonna get married? Hold on, didn’t you send two goodbye messages?” 

My sister exited out and we both set down the phones. 

So, there you have it, the story of how my sister got engaged and almost married on the internet, and of how I met the friend of a life time.

The End.



You can now look forward to awkward Ivar conversations between Taylor and I, FOREVER =D

P.s. he is still cheesy and puppy-dogish as fuck, and he hid it in my white wine.

P.p.s. I told you guys before I told my parents… 

I’m tired of discourse.

I’m tired of trans politics.

I’m tired of the infighting and back biting I see in both.

I’m tired of feeling like I walked out of one warzone inside myself and into another.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m failing my sisters and siblings by not engaging because I don’t have it in me to do so.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m selling them out by the benefit of being shielded from transmisogyny by how I look, how I sound, by the acceptance I receive. Call it passing or whatever.

I’m tired of seeing friends and people I respect being attacked, and then doubly so when they fuck up and are trying to own up to it and be contrite.

I’m tried and I just want to get way from it all and that makes me feel worse.

I’m tired

The Volunteer

This is for @bettsjuggie, who had the idea. 

“Forsythe, why don’t you go to the nurse’s office with Betty?”

I looked up from my math paper, my stomach sinking. I’d been waiting all day for my teacher to get the call that it was my turn to get a tetanus shot. I’d missed the day the whole third grade got their shots, so the nurse was fitting me in after her morning appointments.

I felt my face get hot because everyone was looking at me. They all knew why Mrs. Willis was sending somebody with me; they’d all been there the last time we’d had vaccines at school, and I’d gotten so panicked the nurse had called my mom and sent me home. Shaking, crying, the whole nine yards—I’d been a basket case. The nurse said I had a needle phobia, that it wasn’t my fault. But I hated drawing attention to myself, and I hated not being perfect.

“Sure.” Jughead was a tall kid, even in third grade. He stood up from his desk and stretched. “Come on, Betts.” I followed him out of the room, but I felt bad. I figured the only reason Mrs. Willis had made him come with me was that he was finished with his work. He always finished before the rest of us, because he was the smartest kid in our class, not that he made a big deal about it or anything.

The school hallway was long, and I heard my Mary Janes echoing on the ugly beige tile. I tried to be brave. My mom had looked up some deep breathing techniques, and I tried to do them, but I really just wished the floor would swallow me whole.

“It’s okay if you’re scared.” Jughead walked along beside me, slouching in his hoodie and jeans. “I don’t like heights. My dad took me on the roof of the water tower once, and I almost threw up.”

I looked over at him, and he smiled his lopsided half-smile. Even back then, he didn’t smile a lot, but he smiled at me.

The pathway from Jason’s room through the rest of the Blossoms’ creepy, gothic horror house was too long. I wanted to get away, but I knew if I didn’t show back up, everyone would wonder where I’d gone, and my parents would freak out.

“Betts, are you ok?” Jughead was at my elbow, walking beside me, not touching me.

“Of course I am,” I snapped, and my voice sounded a little too fast and a little too brittle.

“If you say so,” he mumbled, clearly not believing a word of it.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry, Jug.”

“Don’t be.” He held out his arm, and I put my hand under it, just like in old-fashioned movies when the men escort the women in to dinner. But it felt like more than a hand on an arm. It felt like a lifeline.

“I’m ready to administer the shot now. Hold Elizabeth’s hand, Forsythe.” Miss Paulsen, the nurse, looked at Jughead through her horn-rimmed glasses. She could see that I was on the verge of another breakdown. My eyes were filled with tears, and I was willing them not to spill over.

Jughead wrapped his right hand around my left. “Look at me, Betty. Tell me what you’re going to study for our history test next week.”

I focused on his warm, long fingers and the smile hovering around his greenish blue eyes, and I made myself think about social studies. “The United States has three branches of government,” I said, “Executive, legislative, and jud—” Miss Paulsen plunged her needle into my right shoulder, and the breath was knocked out of me.

I went silent, but instead of a full-on panic attack, I just had a couple of tears fall down my cheeks, and I wiped them away as quickly as I could with the back of my hand. “You did really well, Honey,” said the nurse, cleaning up her supplies. “Thank you, Forsythe. That was very helpful.”

Jughead didn’t let go of my hand until I stood up on my own. “Come on, Juggie,” I said, trying not to cry more. “Let’s get out of here.”

“This house is so freaking huge,” I said. I was holding onto Jughead’s arm with a vice grip.

“We’re almost there,” he answered, pointing up ahead, toward the room where everyone was gathered for the creepy after-memorial get-together.

“I miss Polly,” I finally said, softly. It was a non-sequitur, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop thinking about my sister, not now that I knew she’d been engaged, that her story was even sadder than I’d ever realized. I prided myself on my self-control, on never being the crazy one, never being the problem. But my head was swimming, and I couldn’t get my equilibrium back.

Jughead stopped me in the middle of the hallway, facing me and cradling my face in his hands. “Betty, look at me.” I blinked hard, trying not to cry, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

“It’s okay not to be the strong one every time.”

I closed my eyes, breathed hard, tried to push my out-of-control feelings out of myself and into the big, warm hands against my face. But it was too late. The sobs wouldn’t stop coming.

“I’m sorry for being such a baby,” I said, still a little teary. We walked back down the long hallway to Mrs. Willis’s classroom, and I tried to calm down.

“I don’t think you were a baby,” Jughead answered, shaking his head emphatically. “You were really brave.” He stopped in the middle of the hallway and hugged me. It was the quick, awkward hug of a third-grade boy and a third-grade girl, but he was a couple of inches taller than me, and it felt kind of nice.

“Thanks, Juggie,” I said. “I—couldn’t have done it without you.”

He smiled, and I smiled, and I wasn’t anxious any more.

As soon as I started really crying, Jughead pulled me into his arms, right in the middle of a weird hallway in the weird house owned by the weird Blossoms. He hugged me, and I expected him to let go, but he didn’t.

“Let it out,” he said, patting my back with one hand and cradling my head against his shoulder with the other. “You’ve been holding it in for way too long.”

He wasn’t letting me go, and I really didn’t want to get away, so I closed my eyes and focused on the sensations of the rough fabric of his jacket against my cheek, the sound of his calm breathing underneath my ear, the feeling of finally being held that I realized I’d needed for so long.

I wanted to ask when he’d gone from being a couple of inches taller than me to half a foot, when he’d gotten strong enough to make me feel like nothing could hurt me in his arms, how he’d somehow gone from being a kid to being a man overnight. But I didn’t know how to say any of it, so I just let him hold me.

“I’m sorry, Jug,” I said after a while, my voice a whisper muffled against his shoulder.

“None of that, Betty Cooper,” he answered. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

Just then, I heard someone coming toward us. I couldn’t see who it was, but I heard a voice say, “Poor thing; she must be so cut up about that Blossom boy. I see you’re still doing your job well, Forsythe.”

“Yes, Mrs. Willis.”

Mrs. Willis, our third-grade teacher, long since retired and pretty much out of the loop of anything going on in Riverdale. I figured the Blossoms must have invited her because she’d been Jason’s teacher too.

Once she was long past us, headed for a bathroom somewhere in the environs of the mansion, I finally extricated myself from Juggie’s arms, my calm restored. “Thanks,” I said, trying to wipe my eyes without completely wrecking my makeup. “But what in the world did she mean about your job?”

Jughead smiled his lopsided smile. “You remember that time in third grade, when we had tetanus boosters?”

I nodded. “Yeah, you were so good at keeping me calm that the teachers made you my shot buddy after that.”

He shook his head shyly, lowering his chin and glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “They—they didn’t make me. After you had your panic attack, I told Mrs. Willis I wanted to be the one who always went with you. I volunteered, Betts.”

“Of course you did,” I said, unable to help the grin that broke across my face.

“Of course I did,” he answered, grinning back.

The two of us finally rejoined the somber memorial party for Jason Blossom, shoulder to shoulder and side by side. Like always.

Since it’s pride month, I wanna say I am proud of my older sister for coming out as lesbian after a very challenging few years to understand her sexuality. She thought she was bi at first, but now she understands she’s a lesbian. She has a girlfriend, they are engaged and are very happy. I love my sister very much. I love my sister’s girlfriend as well. My sister’s happiness is my happiness. 

Is anyone else kinda disappointed with the MC dating situation in Rules of Engagement Book 2?

I’m not really interested in the prince (friend zoned him whenever I got the chance lol) but we’re still going on dates with him + all our interactions feel romantic. I thought that the end of Book 1 where the LI of our choice is about to propose (for me the bartender) meant that seeing the three guys would stop, but now it feels like all the development we had with our favorite LI is completely gone. 😞 Kinda reminds me of Love Hacks, where MC doesn’t really have the choice to date/like either Ben or Mark and it feels totally out of your control.

That being said, I know that the writers work very very hard and that there is a reason for everything they do. I hope that they resolve this soon! 💕

(Also, where were my faves Bookish Sister and Nicole??? 😭😭😭)