take out a loan

in case you didn’t notice, i have a brand new commissions page! it’s much easier to read this time, and commissions are open indefinitely!

my posts have really been feeling the burn of tumblr changing its algorithm lately (i have a feeling it’s got something to do with their new “restricted” feature?) so i hope that this post actually reaches you if you’ve been wanting a commission have no idea what’s been going on with my blog or if you can even see my art at all

i’m on summer break currently but i’m about to enter my final year of college and i basically need to save up as much money as i possibly can in order to afford tuition payments every semester bc i refuse to take out loans lol

of course a reblog/signal boost always helps my art here on tumblr, but in case you haven’t been able to see my art on your dash at all, ALL of my art lately has been getting dumped full-force on my patreon, which you can get early access to said art for as little as $1 a month! plus you get free-to-use icons and a bunch of other cool stuff~

Dungeons and Dragons is the perfect hobby for millennials

- it doesn’t require any further expenses after the book and dice
- you don’t need to take out a massive loan to learn how to play
- you can use technology/internet to organise meetings and make your game better for free
- you can make your character anything you want without bigots judging you
- old people listen to you if you roll high enough
- your character’s actions can actually have an effect on their world
- it transports you to a world where donald trump, brexit and climate change don’t exist, which is all any of us want really

anonymous asked:

I want to live by myself when I move out of my parent's place but I'm really afraid of money problems? I'm afraid that the only place I can afford will be in the ghetto and it'll all be torn apart and I'll only be allowed to eat one granola bar a week. I'm really stressing out about this. I don't know anything about after school life. I don't know anything about paying bills or how to buy an apartment and it's really scaring me. is there anything you know that can help me?

HI darling,

I’ve actually got a super wonderful masterpost for you to check out:

Home

Money

Health

Emergency

Job

Travel

Better You

Apartments/Houses/Moving

Education

Finances

Job Hunting

Life Skills

Miscellaneous

Relationships

Travel & Vehicles


Other Blog Features

Asks I’ll Probably Need to Refer People to Later

Adult Cheat Sheet:

Once you’ve looked over all those cool links, I have some general advice for you on how you can have some sort of support system going for you:

Reasons to move out of home

You may decide to leave home for many different reasons, including:

  • wishing to live independently
  • location difficulties – for example, the need to move closer to university
  • conflict with your parents
  • being asked to leave by your parents.

Issues to consider when moving out of home

It’s common to be a little unsure when you make a decision like leaving home. You may choose to move, but find that you face problems you didn’t anticipate, such as:

  • Unreadiness – you may find you are not quite ready to handle all the responsibilities.
  • Money worries – bills including rent, utilities like gas and electricity and the cost of groceries may catch you by surprise, especially if you are used to your parents providing for everything. Debt may become an issue.
  • Flatmate problems – issues such as paying bills on time, sharing housework equally, friends who never pay board, but stay anyway, and lifestyle incompatibilities (such as a non-drug-user flatting with a drug user) may result in hostilities and arguments.

Your parents may be worried

Think about how your parents may be feeling and talk with them if they are worried about you. Most parents want their children to be happy and independent, but they might be concerned about a lot of different things. For example:

  • They may worry that you are not ready.
  • They may be sad because they will miss you.
  • They may think you shouldn’t leave home until you are married or have bought a house.
  • They may be concerned about the people you have chosen to live with.

Reassure your parents that you will keep in touch and visit regularly. Try to leave on a positive note. Hopefully, they are happy about your plans and support your decision.

Tips for a successful move

Tips include:

  • Don’t make a rash decision – consider the situation carefully. Are you ready to live independently? Do you make enough money to support yourself? Are you moving out for the right reasons?
  • Draw up a realistic budget – don’t forget to include ‘hidden’ expenses such as the property’s security deposit or bond (usually four weeks’ rent), connection fees for utilities, and home and contents insurance.
  • Communicate – avoid misunderstandings, hostilities and arguments by talking openly and respectfully about your concerns with flatmates and parents. Make sure you’re open to their point of view too – getting along is a two-way street.
  • Keep in touch – talk to your parents about regular home visits: for example, having Sunday night dinner together every week.
  • Work out acceptable behaviour – if your parents don’t like your flatmate(s), find out why. It is usually the behaviour rather than the person that causes offence (for example, swearing or smoking). Out of respect for your parents, ask your flatmate(s) to be on their best behaviour when your parents visit and do the same for them.
  • Ask for help – if things are becoming difficult, don’t be too proud to ask your parents for help. They have a lot of life experience.

If your family home does not provide support

Not everyone who leaves home can return home or ask their parents for help in times of trouble. If you have been thrown out of home or left home to escape abuse or conflict, you may be too young or unprepared to cope.

If you are a fostered child, you will have to leave the state-care system when you turn 18, but you may not be ready to make the sudden transition to independence.

If you need support, help is available from a range of community and government organisations. Assistance includes emergency accommodation and food vouchers. If you can’t call your parents or foster parents, call one of the associations below for information, advice and assistance.

Where to get help

  • Your doctor
  • Kids Helpline Tel. 1800 55 1800
  • Lifeline Tel. 13 11 44
  • Home Ground Services Tel. 1800 048 325
  • Relationships Australia Tel. 1300 364 277
  • Centrelink Crisis or Special Help Tel. 13 28 50
  • Tenants Union of Victoria Tel. (03) 9416 2577

Things to remember

  • Try to solve any problems before you leave home. Don’t leave because of a fight or other family difficulty if you can possibly avoid it.
  • Draw up a realistic budget that includes ‘hidden’ expenses, such as bond, connection fees for utilities, and home and contents insurance.
  • Remember that you can get help from a range of community and government organizations. 

(source)

Keep me updated? xx

You’re Anorexic

*Trigger warning 

A/N: This was a very difficult piece for me to write. Please keep in mind that I am no professional and, by any means, mean no offense to anybody with eating disorders. If any part of this imagine is offensive or taken personally, please message me.

If you are suffering through something this fatal, please contact help as soon as possible. 

- masterlist linked in bio


Time.

It’s a funny concept for Y/n. Between every hour and every minute of the day, there lays a purpose. Every second counts, whether it determines the rest of your life or destroys what’s left of it. For those, time goes quickly or barely passes at all- has no beginning nor end.

It’s relied heavily on, because we all die one day or another, unexpectedly or anticipated, and if a second of time is wasted, it haunts us until our dying days.

Time is the one true consistency in everyone’s life.

When Y/n was younger, time meant everything. She counted the days till her birthday, counted down the seconds to the new year, and dated every special event she could think of. She believed that every second of her life mattered so greatly, that everything she had once known could change in a blink of an eye. Days were filled with bliss, anticipation for what the future held for her. Because she wasn’t getting any younger, and all she could think about how she was one second- a millisecond, even- away from her life giving her a new purpose.

It wasn’t until summer of 2012 when all of her greatest expectations were destroyed in a blink of an eye.

Y/n lost her father.

It happened so suddenly, an unexpected collision during the early hours of the morning. Y/n was home at the time, locked away in her room because she had an argument with him earlier on that night. Because the money situation was tight, it was impossible for Y/n to attend her top choice university. She insisted that she’d take out loans from the bank and pay every bit of tuition herself, but he refused.

She felt as if all her time and effort has been wasted. Of course, there were other schools, but Y/n was too stubborn and so set on attending this university that they didn’t matter half as much as the one she worked for.

She spewed out words she didn’t mean, anger and frustration boiling up inside of her. She had worked so hard for this moment- had worked so hard to make her parents and herself proud, but it all blew up in her face. She had never been so upset before, and it was the first time in a while she started to raise her voice and cry to try and get her way. She would have done anything, even if it meant insulting her father.

He pleaded for her to settle down, because no matter where she ended up, she’d always make him proud. But she wasn’t having it.

“I never want to talk to you again.”

Of course she didn’t mean it, but she just felt so betrayed. And because of how sensitive she was, she knew the grudge she was holding against him was going to last a while.

Already late for his meeting, he sighed and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead, the way he always did whenever they were in an argument. It was to show that he still loved her, that he’ll always love her, even when times seemed rough.

“I’m so sorry, love bug. We’ll discuss this with your mother once I get back from my meeting.“

It wasn’t until a couple hours later her mom called her.

She was sobbing, her words jumbled and breath so harsh Y/n could barely understand a word she was saying. All she managed to hear was “your father” and “car accident,” and it was all she needed to understand that her father hadn’t made it. He was never going to come back home.

Y/n spent the next couple of months trying to cope with his loss. She didn’t understand what it meant to lose somebody forever, she never experienced that kind of pain before. It was too much for her, living without her father and watching her mother slowly turn into a lifeless woman.

The only way to cope with all of the pain was to stop eating.

She didn’t know exactly how it helped, but it did. She saw it as a punishment against herself, for saying such horrible things to her father and having him believe she truly never wanted to speak to him again. She didn’t blame herself for his loss, but she carried a horrendous amount of guilt upon herself. So, she began to skip meals, which wasn’t hard because she could barely stomach the thought of food while she was as depressed as she was. And what started off as a coping mechanism turned into something much more fatal.

Now, time means nothing to her, filled with an empty void. Every minute is another minute of being alone- another minute closer to her end. She sits, stares at the wall clock hung perfectly in Ms. Carter’s office, and watches as it passes with every breath she takes.

“Y/n..” Ms. Carter mumbles, looking down at her watch to calculate just how much time has been wasted since their session began.

“Are you ever going to speak?” she questions with an exasperated sigh, long past her patience because all of their recent sessions have consisted of unanswered questions and the same dismal look displayed on Y/n’s face.

Y/n makes no effort to answer her. Her legs stay crossed indian-style in front of her, picking at a hangnail that’s been bothering her the past couple of days. She hasn’t moved since the appointment started, staying in the same position as Ms. Carter asked her questions Y/n was hardly paying attention to.

She’s well aware she’s wasting Ms. Carter’s time. She could be guiding other clients toward the help they need, or simply listening to someone’s troubles other than the horns honking outside and the agonizing sound of the clock ticking further toward the next hour.

Hell, she’s even convinced that she’d be wasting her own time, as well, if it weren’t for the emptiness in her heart. This is the only place Y/n has somebody. Everyone in her life left her, unable to deal with the constant struggle of her eating disorder. Her family, friends, boyfriends; all of them had left her. What was once an attempt to help Y/n recover from her disorder turned into a part time job for them; a constant occupation in their lives to deal with her.

If it was their choice, they probably would have left sooner than they did. But they all gave her pity, only remaining in her life because they felt another person leaving her would push her to the edge- would push her into something far more fatal. Some left without a word, others left with a rehearsed speech about how they didn’t want to see her suffer, that they couldn’t bare the sight of her bones sticking from her body. They couldn’t help her anymore, because they didn’t understand, and they barely have their own lives figured out, so how could they figure out hers? They finished their speeches with a sympathetic apology, saying that they’d still be there for her if she needed them. But they didn’t mean it. She knew they didn’t mean it.

A year and a half into her disorder, with nobody by her side, with not a soul left to help her recover, someone saved her.

Harry.

When he started to get to know her- to listen to her story- he had never felt more remorse for somebody the way he had with her. Such a beautiful and sweet woman has been torturing herself for years all because of the amount of guilt she had at such a young age. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she’s been through, all the pain and hardship she’s endured throughout er life.

She was so lovely, as well, he fell in love with her the moment she started opening up to him. It was easy for the both of them, to talk to one another, simply because there was instant connection none of them could deny. They fit into each other’s lives perfectly, as if filling up the emptiness they both had.

Harry dedicated every part of his life to her, with not a single complaint hanging from his lips. He loved her in ways nobody else had loved her before. He showed it by staying with her, through all the horrible battles she faced. He was patient with her, putting up with her fight against food and reassuring her when she wanted to throw it all up. He was there every step toward her recovery and every step toward her relapses.

It took a long while for her to finally recover. She was eating again; she was healthy again. Her skin glowed with an olive undertone, hair so soft Harry found it irresistible not to touch. Her once twisted thoughts altered to an optimistic mindset. The once beautiful girl he once known developed into an ethereal woman, convinced he was going to spend the rest of his faithful life with her.

If it weren’t for Harry, she wouldn’t have recovered. When he came into her life, she made every promise to herself and to Harry that she would overcome this. She’d continue her battle for them, because she now had a reason to fight. Her love for Harry pushed her to be the woman she became. He changed her- he saved her.

But a year into her recovery, something changed between them.

Something changed in him.

She never felt his love like she used to. He was barley there for her. When he’d come home from work, he wouldn’t call out for her anymore. Even though they were together, she began to feel lonely again. Y/n was convinced he had stopped loving her. She stayed up countless nights, without him, wondering what she did wrong. He didn’t hold her anymore, not like he used to. Before, he’d always hold her, because his arms were her sanctuary and his chest was a bed made specially for her head. His lips only lingered on her cheek or forehead, not in the way they used to. Before, he’d always kiss her lips, because he said he swore his lips were compelled to love hers and said he was always hungry for her love. She fell asleep feeling empty, not in the way she had before. Before, amongst falling asleep, he’d be inside of her, hips colliding with hers because he praised her, and said he’d never love the way he loved her.

But it all ended so suddenly, there was no warning.

She began to feel what she felt with everyone else- neglected.

She felt it was because she recovered. When she was battling her disorder, he loved her because he felt he had to. She had nobody else. Her family had given up on her, her friends left her, and she was left with absolutely nothing. He came at a time she needed someone most. At that point, she was prepared to die, there was no helping it. He was her lifeline, her only dependency, and that’s why he had stopped loving her. He didn’t need to love her anymore.

“I- I don’t quite know what to say.” Y/n mumbles.

She wishes she could tell Ms. Carter everything about it. She wishes she could talk to her like she was supposed to; trust her and open up to her to help her with her recovery. But if she does, she knows Ms. Carter would have to take her to a rehabilitation center. And Y/n wanted absolutely nothing to do with that.

Ms. Carter nods, lips pursing as she places her notebook down of her wooden coffee table. She crosses her legs and arms, back moving to rest upon the black velvet seat she always sits in during her sessions.

“Then why do you come to me, Y/n?” she asks softly, watching as Y/n moves her eyes slowly to her. “If you don’t know what to say, why are you here?”

She shrugs, arms moving to hug her knees to her chest. She rests her chin gently on her knee cap, eyes trained on the window directly in front of her. She watches as cars move during the rush hour, people walking on the sidewalks with a premeditated destination. She envies those who thrive, for she lacks motivation to accomplish her ambitions.

“This is all I have.”

Ms. Carter blinks at her confession, interlocking her fingers together while nodding her head.

She knows Y/n has been different the past couple months. Normally, Y/n talks about her relationship with Harry, how he’s been her biggest step toward her recovery. She talked about how great she’d feel, but was, nonetheless, worried she’ll eventually relapse and disappoint him.

Ms. Carter has had suspicions that Y/n is going through another relapse. However, she knew that if she was, that Harry was by her side at home. It was one of the many reasons she hadn’t taken major actions to help her through it. She knew Harry would do her more help than her, but Y/n kept scheduling appointments that she couldn’t deny.

“And what about Harry?” She asks timidly, “Is he helping you through this time, Y/n?”

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut at his name. Her hands shake as her fingers pull down the sleeves of her sweatshirt, tugging them all the way so that her hands are completely covered by the material.

“Not anymore.” She whispers.

Y/n’s eyes divert to Ms. Carter’s cautious gaze. Her mouth is slightly parted, almost shocked at the confession she made. Ms. Carter knows the only thing that guided her was Harry. He was her rock and support through her entire fight, and with the possibility of his departure comes the possibility of Y/n going back to where it all began.

“Are you- are you still eating, Y/n?”

Her eyes go back to the window.

Another question left unanswered.


The weather outside is making Harry miserable. So miserable, in fact, he’s refused to move from his spot on the couch for the past four hours.

The house is dark for the mid-afternoon, the gloomy weather making it nearly feel like a funeral home. With no motivation to go outside and finding it oddly comfortable to wallow, he can’t help but to keep his eyes trained on the television show playing in front of him. It’s Y/n’s favorite show- one they watched nearly every Saturday afternoon because that’s when CW aired the marathon.

He still watches it every Saturday. A part of him can’t let the tradition go. He’s somehow convinced himself that maybe, just maybe, she couldn’t, either, and they are some how both watching it at the same time in two different places. Gemma tells him that she probably does the same, as well, but he should try to move on from her; that staying in the house and only doing things that remind him of her is going to edge him to insanity. But oddly, consuming his days with things that remind him of her keep him as sane as he can possibly be.

He sighs, clammy fingers tugging at the roots of his hair as he looks down at his phone for what must have been the twentieth time today. His thumb hovers over her contact number, twitching as he begins to contemplate whether to call her or not. It’s been months since he’s seen her, let alone talked to her. Every second without knowing how she’s doing kills him more and more each time.

To say Harry’s been worried is an understatement. He’s completely petrified.

For the past couple of years, Harry has been through it all with Y/n. He’s seen her at her worst, was there to witness her greatest and most disastrous downfalls and stood by her side during her most amazing recoveries. He’s seen her in all her forms of terrible glory, with bones sticking from her skin and bruises covering her arms and legs. He’s watched her as people began to leave her one by one- a bystander of a broken girl being neglected by her loved ones. He’s seen her fantasize about her end and watched as pain settled in her eyes.

And he just can’t shake the feeling that everything Y/n has built up to her recovery has been knocked down again.

He can’t stomach the thought of her looking the way she did when they first met. He doesn’t even want to think about what she’s been putting herself up against since his departure.

For the first month after their breakup, Harry had called Y/n everyday to make sure she was eating properly. He’d call her before bed, asking numerous questions about her diet and her therapy sessions. What did you eat today? How much did you eat? Was Ms. Carter nice? How are you feeling? It was a routine that was able to keep both of them sane during their separation.

It didn’t last long, however, when Y/n started to finally realize she wasn’t able to move on. Between the constant reminder that she didn’t have anybody there for her anymore and his constant phone calls, she found it impossible to move on from him.

Y/n also began to feel upset that Harry had broke things off with her but still had the audacity to call her. She understood what he was doing. She understood that he was showing her that he still cared and worried for her, but the fact that the only effort he had put into taking care of her was through a phone call made Y/n feel like a charity case.


“I just can’t do this anymore, Harry” she muttered softly to the phone, her fingers halfheartedly fiddling with the corner of the duvet, “You can’t keep calling me when we aren’t dating.”

His heart fell to the pit of his stomach. Calling her before bed was a routine to him now. Talking to her was able to keep him sane, because he was getting the reassurance he needed to know she was doing okay.

In all honesty, he didn’t know if he could go a day without talking to her. Without her updating him, he knows he’d spend every second of his day worrying about her health and how she’d be keeping up with herself.

The phone calls were also the bit of her he had left. If he were to stop calling her, all he’d have left is her empty side of the bed, and he needed more than that. He needed more of her.

“But you need to see that I still care for you, Y/n” he whispers brokenly, “that I’ll always be here to make sure you’re alright.”

“But how do you think that makes me feel?!”

Her voice was higher than usual, a tone she very rarely used with him because he never gave her a reason to be angry. But now, after him calling off their relationship but still having the audacity to call her made her sick to her stomach.

“If you still cared, if you still wanted me, you’d be with me right now! You’re not making any effort to care for me, Harry! Calling me doesn’t mean anything because you’re not here!

He shut his eyes at her words, a pang of guilt hitting him like a ton of bricks. He would be there with her if he had a choice, but their relationship wasn’t working out in both of their favors. In the midst of her getting her life back and him settling in a new job, it was very hard for them to keep up with each other. It was especially hard for him to keep up with her because she seemed to be so content in her new life that he almost felt unwanted.

He still loved her, but he felt like she didn’t want him anymore. She had recovered because of him, and because she didn’t have to rely on him in the way he was used to, he felt useless in her life. And no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t true, that she still wanted and needed him, it still broke him apart.

“You know our relationship wasn’t working out for us and-“

No,” she cut him off, teeth clenching out of frustration, “our relationship wasn’t working out for you. You felt no need to love me anymore, so you left me just like everybody else.”

Harry’s jaw clenches as she speaks, head thrashing wildly side to side, because it’s not true. Everything she thinks, everything he’s made her come to believe isn’t true, and he wants nothing more than to try to make her understand that he’ll always be in love with her. That he’ll always be there for her because he can’t image a day without loving her the way she deserves.

“Y/n, baby, how could you say tha-“

“You need to stop calling me,” she cries, “you’re either a part of my life or you aren’t. There’s no middle ground for you to be in. That’s not fair to me. It’s either you care for me and love me or you don’t.”

Harry’s breath was harsh against the speaker, fists clenched together as he tries to wrap his head around the situation he’s put in.

The hesitation in his answer was enough for her heart to break. The silence between her words and his answer spoke louder than anything he could possibly say to her.

She couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t surprised this is how their story ended. Everyone has already gave up on her, it was only a certain amount of time before Harry realizes how easy a life would be without her. She just didn’t want to believe it.

“I get it, Harry” she whispers, sniffling as she runs her wrist along the tip of her nose. “Goodbye.“


He’s been doing this everyday, worrying and contemplating on what he should do. He wishes more than anything to be with her the way she deserved, and wishes even more that he had never left her in the first place. He knows calling her would make her angry because she’s made it clear she felt hurt every time she did so, but he also knows not calling her isn’t fair, either.

He understands how wrong it sounds to leave his anorexic girlfriend of three years, but he felt it was best for the both of them at the time. But now, after months of her out of his life with no other connections to hear from her, he realized how stupid he was to convince himself that.

He’s completely devastated without her.

Living without Y/n wasn’t living at all. The life he experienced with her was incomparable to the one he’s been experiencing without her. She’s the love of his life, she’s the woman who showed him what it truly meant to love and care for someone so much. Of course, being with her wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but loving her was. That’s what made them so real. Their relationship was filled with struggles, messes, and tears, but they were still in love with each other regardless. It was their ability to fight together that pulled them through their most difficult times.

“Jesus, Y/n.” He whispers to himself, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Harry’s thumb presses on the cancel button, letting out a shaky breath as he does so. He feels a tear slowly fall down his cheek, which he’s quick to wipe away with the back of his hand when he hears the front door swing open.

“Afternoon, H!” Gemma greets, hands filled with grocery bags as she stumbles through the front door.

“Bought us some sandwiches. Turkey chipotle sandwiches, to be exact. Figured we could just watch some shows today? The weather is a fucking disaster, it’s making me moody.”

Harry nods speechlessly, his fingers toying with his upper lip. His eyes divert to Gemma’s struggling figure for just a couple seconds before his attention is back on Y/n’s contact.

“Yeah, yeah sounds fine.” He mutters distractedly.

Gemma’s eyebrows furrow in concern over his melancholy tone, placing the grocery bags lazily on the kitchen counter before making her way toward Harry’s slumped figure.

She bites her lower lip at the look of her distraught brother, who’s clearly shown no improvement since his breakup with Y/n. She’s aware that he blames himself for their breakup and that he spends every waking hour of his day worrying about her. No matter how hard she tries to help him through this struggle in his life, there’s always a part of him that will always feel a sense of protection over her.

He’s a wreck, and no matter how many times he tries to deny it, there were numerous nights Gemma would find Harry staring at her contact during the earliest hours in the morning with helpless tears building in his eyes. She’d even hear him mutter apologies to himself, as if rehearsing a speech to say if he ever found the strength to call her.

Who could really blame him, though?

“You okay?” she asks timidly, already knowing his answer but still finding it in her heart to ask.

She would do anything for him- anything to help him. Hell, she’s tried everything. She’s tried to talk to him alone whenever she found him in his darkest hour, even made him cups of tea to help settle his brain. She bought him a journal, in hopes that writing down his feelings will help him recover in the slightest. She even scheduled him for an in-home therapy session, but every bit of her attempts never budged him. He was still the same mess of a man he has been since the day he left Y/n.

Harry looks up at her, nodding his head feverishly when he sees the concerned look on her face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he coughs, looking back down at his phone, “Just haven’t checked up on her in a while. Kinda worried.“

Gemma raises her eyebrows at him, unconvinced.

Kind of worried?” she questions, occupying the space on the couch next to him. Her hand reaches up to his forehead to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, which slowly moves to his back in attempt to relieve his tense muscles.

“You’re sweating.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, his hand reaching to the back of his neck. He nods his head, lips pursing together as he tries to hold back the emotions he’s feeling.

“I feel like she stopped eating and it’s just- it’s just something I can’t stop thinking about, you know? I can’t live in peace when it’s all my head wanders off to.”

Gemma nods her head, her fingers squeezing the skin of his shoulder as a way to reassure that she’s here for him.

She feels awful about how much blame Harry’s been putting on himself the past couple of months. It’s beginning to take a major toll on him, he can barely include himself in day-to-day activities without getting lost in his thoughts. His once well-put-together form has seemed to turn effortless, not cared for in the way it once was. He’s become so disconnected,, she can’t deny the overwhelming concern she’s had for him for the past couple of months.

“I’m sure she’s okay, Harry. I’m sure she’s still checking in with Ms. Carter and working on herself. She’s a strong woman, you and I both know that. Strongest woman we’ve ever met. She’ll be okay.”

She leans over to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“And if she isn’t doing well, she would have called you by now.”

But Harry is having none of it. He knows that if she’s relapsing, she wouldn’t have called him. She wouldn’t have called anyone. He knows she feels like he doesn’t care about her anymore- feels like she’s the last thing on his mind. If she were to call him, she’d feel like she was a burden on his life, and that was the last thing she’d want. He knows that.

But if only she knew. If only she knew he can’t sleep at night because all he can think about is betraying the woman he loves, leaving her to fight by herself. Hell, if only she knew he can’t touch his phone without constantly going back to her contact trying to muster up the strength to call her and ask her how she’s doing.

“I was her reason to eat. If she stopped eating, it’s because of me.”

“No,” Gemma shakes her head, reaching her hands up to grab his face to ensure she was looking at him in the eyes, “You can’t put that much responsibility on yourself like that, she had plenty of reasons to recover. None of this would be your fault.”

He shakes his head, gripping the sides of his head as if trying to remain as calm as he possibly can. He wouldn’t be shocked if he lost all of his remaining sanity in his moment.

“I was literally all she had, Gem.” he spits, all the anger and frustration he’s held against himself now unleashing. All the contained emotions he’s been feeling, all the loathing he’s been trying to ignore, is all unraveling inside of him to the point where he feel like he can’t breathe.

“My existence, our future, that’s what she recovered for. Not a second of her recovery was for anybody or anything else.” He rants, breathing harsh as the thoughts rush through his brain. “She had nobody except for me. She didn’t have any friends, any family. She wasn’t fighting when I met her. She was waiting to die..”

“Harry…”

“And I did what I promised her I wouldn’t do and…and now I-”

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to be with her, Harry.” Gemma blinks, shaking her head softly as she reaches to remove his hands from his head, “If you didn’t love her anymore, you didn’t have a choice.“

“But I do love her” he defends, shaking his head, “I’ve always loved her. We had to break up because our relationship wasn’t easy at that time, but hell, Gem, that doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving her.”

He sighs, rubbing his sweaty hands over his face.

Tears fall slowly down his face, soaking his cheeks as he inhales sharply. God, how much he fucking loves her, is what kills him the most.

“Me, helping her recover, of course that was a plus. I helped her get out of her anorexia, Gem. I never gave up on her, but I did once she recovered. That’s not fair, I still love her so much. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Gemma frowns, slowly leaning toward him so that she can softly wrap her arms around his shoulders. She buries her cheek against his shoulder, thumb rubbing delicate circles on his back.

“I think you know what to do, H.”


Once Y/n’s appointment ended, she found herself curled up in her bed as the sounds of Harry’s mixtape played quietly throughout the room. It was a tape he made for her when they first started dating, something sentimental for her to hold onto whenever he wasn’t able to be there.

She’s been listening to it almost everyday since the breakup. She’d listen to it mindlessly, whether she was staring at wall or she was listening to it on her way to therapy. It was the only thing in her life that made her feel something; the pure value of it holding so much meaning. The music was the closest she’s been to Harry in a while, so it was her sanctuary.

She sighs, her fingers lightly grazing the window that drips with rain. In her loneliest hours, Y/n wants nothing more than to make her way over to him. She doesn’t quite know how she’s made it so long without him. In all honesty, she expected her to have given up and walk up to his door and beg him for his help. She knows she’s suffering, her body weak and starving the more she refuses to eat. But, to her, she has no reason to. Every bit of love she had for herself and every purpose she had to continue living has all dissolved into nothing.

She shakes her head, unwrapping herself from the blankets she raveled herself in before her bare feet made contact with the cold floor. She decides to go for a walk, or maybe just go out on her front porch to get some fresh air. She thinks it’ll be good for her, after all, she doesn’t have anything else to do besides stay cooped up in her four walls and listen to disgusting love songs.

The second she stood up from the bed, she nearly fell onto the floor. Her head spins and feels obnoxiously light when she begins to stand up properly. It wasn’t rare for her to feel lightheaded whenever she moved too quickly, however, this was the most intense it has been. Holding herself onto the wall, she waits until she feels back to her normal self before making her way down toward her living room.

Her fingers immediately press against her temples when she makes it to her foyer. Her head spins wildly with every step she takes, making her lose her balance once she reaches the last step. Her head hits against the floor, a groan leaving her chapped lips as her body begins to tremble. Her eyes cloud with darkness for a few moments at a time before she regains her consciousness, her sight fogged and lightheaded as she tries to pick herself up off the floor.

“No” she mumbles, coughing as she rushes to reach for her phone.

“No, no, no.”

This has happened to her before. It happened years ago, though, when she hasn’t consumed anything for weeks. The only difference is that she had someone there to save her before. Thankfully, her mom was there at the time and rushed to her rescue. When she made it to the hospital, they said she was near her end. If she had went a couple more hours without consumption, she wouldn’t have been able to make it.

But now, she has nobody.

Her breathing becomes harsh as her body keeps losing consciousness. There’s only a certain amount of time she has before she fades out entirely, and no matter how much she’s tried to convince herself that she’s been ready for this moment, she has never been more scared for her life.

Her shaking fingers reach for her phone in her back pocket. She has to do something and has to do it quick. If she dies like this, nobody would be out looking for her, nobody would find her body. She’d be stuck in this house as her body decays into nothing but bone.

She decides that this isn’t how she’s going to die, because if this is the day her end finally nears, she’d want to spend her last dying breaths with the one person she feels something for.

Harry.

She whimpers, weak fingers punching in his phone number. Every part of her wants him to answer- needs him to answer, because he’s her last bit of hope and she doesn’t plan on leaving it all behind. But a part of her wouldn’t blame him for not answering. After all, she was the one who dropped him from her life completely, which was, quite honestly, the stupidest thing she’s ever done in her life. She practically pushed him away entirely, even when he was still there for her. Even when he still held onto her and cared for her like nobody else has.

And she can’t die knowing that.

“Y/n?”

Y/n swears hearing his voice is everything she needs in this moment.

Seeing her name light up on his phone makes Harry spring out of bed, his hands gripping the phone closer to his ear, as if trying to get closer to her. It’s been too long since he’s talked to her, and he’s convinced he can’t allow himself to waste another minute without hearing her voice again.

But no matter how much he wishes she was calling because she missed him, too, he just can’t seem to shake the feeling that the only reason she called is because she’s in trouble.

“Harry” she heaves groggily.

Her eyes are clouded, the room spinning around her. She can barely move, only the ghostly movements of her lips and the subtle rise and fall of her chest. She’s lightheaded, feeling cold and utterly weightless as her body lays faint on the carpeted floor beneath her.

“Y/n” Harry breathes out, slightly confused and partially in awe at the sound of her voice, “are you okay? I was gonna come by later. Been worried about you.”

“I keep fading out” she whimpers, her eyes closing longly each passing second, “I’m gonna die.”

Harry’s face pales the second he hears the struggling in her voice.

Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. It’s as if the world has stopped revolving around him, his only concern being Y/n and her safety. With her shaking voice filled with fear; it feels as if every one of Harry’s greatest fears are all coming to haunt him all at once. Y/n’s in a great amount of danger, all because of him, and he might not be able to save her in time.

In a matter of a second, working so quickly Harry doesn’t seem to fully keep up with his actions, he’s stumbling down his stairs and at his front door, holding his car keys shakingly in his hands. He doesn’t even bother putting on a pair of shoes or a jacket before he’s rushing toward his car.

“Y/n…Y/n, you have listen to me very carefully.” he pants, slightly tripping over his own two feet before regaining balance. “You have to hang up the phone and dial the police before i-”

“I- I can’t, Harry” she chokes out, interrupting him because she doesn’t know how much longer she can make it. “I’m so weak. I can’t move.”

Harry’s moving wildly once he sits down in the car. His hands are shaking so harshly it takes him a couple seconds to push the keys in the ignition, causing frantic mumbles of c’mon, c’mon, c’mon to leave his quivering lips.

“Fucking shit!” he spits, putting the car in reverse and stepping on the pedal so hard he’s convinced his car will be wrecked by the time he gets to her. But he doesn’t care, not at all.

He puts his car in drive and swerves onto the road, breaking the speed limit by an extra 30 miles an hour. His teeth clench together as his hand wraps tightly around the stirring wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white as he steps down on the pedal harder.

No matter what speed he goes, he has this inevitable fear that he isn’t going to make it to her on time. He feels he has no time- that she has no time- and no matter how badly he wishes he can stay talking to her to ensure that she’ll be okay by the time he reaches her, he knows it isn’t her safest option. He has to risk it, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“You gotta give me two minutes, love. I’m putting you on hold for two minutes so that I can send someone over to you. Do not hang up on me, you hear me? You stay with me. Gimme two minutes.”

He doesn’t give her any time to reply before he puts her on hold. His fingers are rapid as he calls the police, the fingers that are gripping onto the steering wheel tapping along the leather as he waits for the operator to answer.

“What’s your-”

“My girlfriend, please,” he rushes out before the woman can finish, “she’s home alone and she keeps fading in and out of consciousness. I need you to bring someone over to her house please.”

He doesn’t notice how fast he’s speaking until the operator begins to ask him to calm down and repeat himself.

“Do you know any information in regards to her unconsciousness?”

“Yes,” he swallows thickly, “she’s anorexic.”

“What’s the address, sir?”

“168 Williamson Drive.”

“The police are on their way.”

He hangs up with the operator before switching back to Y/n’s contact.

“Y/n, baby, you still there?”

Her body jolts when she hears his voice from the speaker, breath hitching in her throat as she grips onto her phone tighter. She swears, if it isn’t for Harry being on the other line, she would have given up by now. Knowing he’s coming back to her keeps her fighting against her body, which is on the brink of blacking out for God knows how long.

“How much-“ she whimpers as she speaks, eyes slowly closing, “how much longer?”

His eyes wander wildly to the roads ahead of him. He isn’t far from her now, just a couple more turns until he’s in her neighborhood. Working quickly, his foot absentmindedly presses harder against the gas pedal, switching lanes to avoid the cars that are getting in his way.

Shit, baby, you gotta give me five more minutes. I just need a bit more time and I’ll be there with you.”

The five minutes feels like forever.

Between Y/n’s soft crying and Harry’s continuously worried questions, Y/n had already fallen out of consciousness three times. She isn’t positive on how she is able to wake up each time, but she is. Every time she wakes up, Harry is calling her name desperately through the phone, reassuring her that he was going to be there as soon as he possibly can and help make sure she stays safe. However, Y/n is almost completely positive she is going to die. She had put her body through so much for far too long, she doesn’t know how many times her body can keep recovering just to relapse again. Her health was constantly fluctuating between the most drastic lows and highs, there is no possible way it has any more strength to push her through this last fight. There is just no way.

Harry doesn’t have time to turn off his car before he’s rushing toward her front door. His sweating hands slip off the doorknob on his first attempt to open her door, but is quick to rebuttal when he storms inside her house. It’s dark, only a small amount of light illuminating the foyer as his eyes wildly search for her.

She’s collapsed onto the floor. Her skin as pale as he’s ever seen it, her fragile body shivering and shaking against the hardwood floor. Her body looks broken, in a way. It looks lifeless as she helplessly tries to muster any atom in her body to keep fighting for her survival. Her loose clothes didn’t hide how weak her body has become within the past couple of months. There’s still a drastic, evident change in her body frame since he’s last seen her. And if he has to be honest, it makes him feel sick to his stomach, to see the love of his life like this.

And the only thing he can think about is how this is all his fault. He caused all of this, not any of this would be happening if he hadn’t left her the way he did. Instead, they could be getting married, living in their dream home together, cooking on the kitchen stove and listening to their favorite music together. They could be happy together.

But everything is because of him. There is nobody else to blame besides him and his selfishness. He left her, alone, in her most disastrous condition and nothing about what he did is okay, not when she’s like this.

“Baby” he cries, falling to his knees beside her.

He begins to sob as he lifts her up from the floor. He cradles her against him, her head laying perfectly on his chest as his arms wrap security around her waist. He nuzzles his face into her hair, his strong cries raking through him as he holds her tighter against him.

She feels cold, much different than her usual warm touch. She feels so light, too, and so weak as he grabs onto her like she’s his life line.

It’s been too long- way too long since he’s held her so close. It feels as if this is the first time he’s finally able to breathe, to not feel so suffocated in his heartbreak over losing the love of his life. He’s with her now, and maybe not in the best way possible, but he’s with her and it’s the biggest step to help them overcome this. Together.

Her fingers brush against his neck, her cheek rubbing against his chest as she whimpers against him.

Her head spins and her eyes fog as he holds her to him, making it nearly impossible for her to keep up with her consciousness. All she can think is how good it feels, to be with him in her weakest moment. She feels the most alive, even in her time closest to death, being wrapped in his arms and being peppered by his kisses. She feels the safest she’s ever been, and in this moment, for the first time in a while, she truly feels like everything is going to be okay.

“Don’t leave me, please” she whispers, “please don’t leave again.”

His heart breaks when he feels her tears soak through his t-shirt as the words she speaks crack in her voice.

He’d never leave her, never in his wildest dreams would he think about leaving her again. He can’t live another day without her, and he’ll stop at nothing to make sure she gets the ending she deserves.

“Oh, my love” he whimpers, placing a delicate kiss upon her forehead, “I’m so sorry, my love. Help is on its way, okay? You’re with me now, you’re safe. I’ve got you.“

He leans down to kiss her shaking lips, running his hands through her hair as he lets out another broken sob.

“You’re safe now.”

2

As a student, a young Ted Bundy worked as a busboy in various hotels and clubs. In the August of 1967, he became friends with fellow Seattle Yacht Club colleague, Beatrice Sloan, who fell for his “wicked sense of humour and boyish good looks.” The widow learnt of Ted’s love interest, Stephanie Brooks, and would loan him her expensive car to take her out on dates. Realising the finer things in life impressed Stephanie, Ted encouraged Mrs. Sloan to lend him expensive cutlery to use for meals with his girlfriend. 

Even though she knew that Ted would take girls up to the crows nest of the Seattle Yacht Club for sex, and even that he would steal money from drunk patrons, she couldn’t help but like the young man. She ended up giving Bundy a large loan of money, confident that he would pay her back. When he didn’t, Mrs. Sloan rang Ted’s mother who simply replied with: “You were a fool to lend him anything, you’ll never get it back.” and with that, Louise Bundy abruptly put the phone down.

Despite the betrayal, Beatrice Sloan remembered Ted Bundy as the goofy young college student that she knew and adored. “Once he arrived at the Yacht Club in a jet black wig, it had me in stitches. He just looked like a completely different person.” Unbeknown to her, the killer would go on to use that same black wig as a disguise during his time as a fugitive.

Uninvited. {Dean Ambrose}


Summary: Housesitting for Dean had its perks, his house was beautiful, quiet and relaxing when it came to studying compared to your dorm or the lecture hall. However, your friends convince you to throw a party at his bachelor pad only to have Dean crash the party.

Warning: Smut. Smut. Smut.

Masterlist: Here

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Caught Off Guard // Im Jaebum (M) (AU!)

Originally posted by jitonic

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

Genre: Smut, Officer!Jaebum, Dom!Jaebum

Summary; After stealing an expensive bracelet with the intentions of pawning it for cash, you get arrested by the malls security officer - and you offer him a deal he can’t refuse.

This scenario is rated M for MATURE as it contains smut - rough sex, handcuffs, general behaviour that you would actually go to jail for so please do not aTTEMPT THIS AT HOME YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

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What the Hell is “Financial Abuse”?

Okay. So most people know what physical abuse is - that’s pretty straightforward. And most people have a vague idea of what emotional abuse is. But what about financial abuse? Financial abuse is a common type of abuse - much more common than you’d think - and it can make it almost impossible to get away from a toxic relationship. So what the hell is it?

Simply put, financial abuse is when an abuser controls or limits your money in order to keep you in the relationship or make you do what they want. Financial abuse can come in many forms, some more subtle than others, but all forms can be extremely difficult to escape from. 

Most of my followers are in their late teens or early twenties, which means at this stage in your lives, financial abuse is most likely to come from your parents. This often comes in the form of threatening to take away financial support if you don’t do exactly what they want. “We’ll stop paying for your tuition if you start dating/change your major/join that club/leave our religion/etc.” is a common threat made by financially abusive parents. Note that this is NOT the same as parents who want to teach their children financial independence - financially abusive parents do not want their children to work, take out loans or provide for themselves. They do everything in their power to keep their adult children financially dependent on them, so they can keep making these threats. 

In a relationship, financial abuse often means that your partner will try to prevent you from having any money of your own. Unfortunately, there are a whole lot of ways to achieve this. That could mean that they try to discourage you from going to school or having a job, or that they actively sabotage your career. They could try to limit your career choices, or insist that you only work low-paying, part-time jobs. They might intentionally move you to new city to force you to quit your job. They might also force you to turn over all your paycheques, or insist that you don’t need your own bank account and credit cards. All of these tactics force you to rely 100% on your partner for basic necessities, and they can threaten to take away finances or humiliate you by forcing you to beg for money. 

Financial abuse can also mean carefully tracking any money you do spend. Your partner might carefully look over every credit card statement or debit transaction, demanding that you justify every penny spent. Not only is this incredibly degrading, it’s a method of control - if you displease your partner, they can get revenge on you by yelling at you or making fun of you for “wasting” money on things you enjoy. This is also a tool to keep you from leaving the relationship - your partner will know right away if you’re buying things like suitcases, bus tickets, hotel bookings or down payments on a new apartment, and they can shut down your escape plan right away.

And finally, financial abuse can also come in the form of a “deadbeat” partner. This is a partner who refuses to work or contribute financially to the household, although they are fully capable of it. They’ll control all aspects of household finances, even if you are the only one working, and will freely spend your money on luxuries for themselves, like alcohol or video games, leaving you with nothing for yourself. They will insist that all household bills be put in your name, to make sure that you continually have to work harder to avoid ruining your credit. Both men and women are equally capable of being “deadbeat” partners, and usually a healthy amount of guilt and emotional abuse are used to convince you to keep this parasite in your life. 

The best way to escape from a financially abusive relationship is to get outside help. Tell your family and friends what’s going on. Reach out to organizations that help victims of domestic abuse. If you live in a small town without many resources, ask your local church, temple, synagogue or mosque for help - they will almost always help you, even if you are not a member of the congregation. There are a lot of resources and organizations out there who are more than willing to help you find housing, acquire furniture or household items, find a job, or go back to school.

Financial abuse IS abuse, and you deserve better.

Hi guys!

So I just got out of an abusive relationship, and I had to empty my savings and my parents had to take out a small loan to help get me out and get the deposit/first months rent for a little apartment. I live in a different state from them and don’t have the ability to move home, and my parents don’t have the resources to help support me anymore.

I’m supposed to be interviewing for a new job soon, but even if I get hired, I won’t have a paycheck for 3 weeks, so I’m expecting to wait a month, to a month and a half to have steady income. (I have a job now, but I got my shifts cut and I’m only making $75/week) I had to leave all of my belongings except some clothes and books behind, so I have nothing of value to sell. 

My rent ($550) is due in 7 days and I only have $250 In my bank account from this months paychecks. If I could get another $300 scraped together through small donations or gigs (the job I’m interviewing for is a Graphic Design Specialist position) I would be so so greatful!

My PayPal is hammer.hem@gmail.com

(If you know anyone needing design work, I can be reached there for freelance purposes as well!)

Thanks so much for helping out or spreading this along! <3

Gemma Doesn’t Like You: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


A month after Y/n’s encounter with Gemma, she hasn’t been seen again. She had cut ties with Harry and his family, meaning she started taking out loans and working every day just to pay off her schooling. Harry had absolutely no access to her. He never expected his last moments with Y/n to be in a three-hour car ride where silence consumed them whole as Y/n wouldn’t even look at him. The memory still haunts him, in his sleep and even when he’s awake, laying on their bed with a glass full of bourbon at 4 in the morning.

He’s changed since then, every bit of him broken and unfixable. He questions his reason for living. With finishing his career and his friends busy managing businesses and living their lives, the only thing keeping Harry going was now gone, had disappeared from his life and showed no sign of return. He saw a future with Y/n, a new beginning to an end with her, and now that it’s over, he feels his reason to live and his future has turned non-existent.

Gemma hasn’t heard from Harry ever since that night, either. She had tried numerous times to explain herself but he simply ignored her, blaming her for ruining his life. She didn’t know exactly what to think, she believed what she did was to protect him, but she started to doubt herself whenever Anne told her he’s been locked up in his house with excessive amounts of alcohol and drinking his pain away. She had hoped a part of him would have learned that she was right and moved onto a different woman, but she knew that was highly unlikely. She was just frustrated, not only with Harry, but with herself as well.

“You and Harry need to talk about things.” Anne demands through the phone.

Gemma rolls her eyes, letting out a slight groan.

“Mum, if he wants to put all the blame on me, he can have fun doing that. However, there isn’t a thing I’ve done wrong and I’m not just going to sit here and-“

“I have never seen your brother more miserable in my life.” Anne whispers, a slight quiver in her voice as she speaks. “He’s not doing well, mentally, at least.”

Anne lets out an almost inaudible sigh, “Gemma, I don’t care what your intentions were, but the outcome of what you did is killing him.”

Gemma takes in a shaky breath, leaning her elbow on the kitchen counter, placing the palm of her hand on her forehead.

"I’m not calling you a bad guy, but please, my Gem, fix this.”

“But mum, I-“

“They drove three hours to see you just for you to deliberately embarrass her in front of her boyfriend.”

Anne’s tone suddenly became rough, not tolerating the fight Gemma has been constantly putting up whenever they discussed the situation.

"I understand you were trying to protect your brother but that is not how you go about it. Now, I will not tell you again, you speak to Harry about this before you lose your brother forever.”

The line goes dead against Gemma’s ear. She sighs, locking her phone before pressing her forehead against the kitchen counter. She knows she has to talk to Harry about this, but a part of her still feels like she can’t allow Harry to stay with Y/n. It’s as if her big sister instincts kicked in. She doesn’t want to see him hurt because of Y/n, but she questions whether she’s the one doing it instead.

“Fine, fine!” Gemma groans to herself, picking up her car keys from the counter, “Guess I’ll have to fix this.”


Harry decides that it’s a good night to go out. A new bar has opened up a couple blocks from his home, and he feels it’s time for him to at least grief outside of his bedroom. Of course he was drunk prior to his arrival, and he went alone, but that didn’t change the fact that this is the most improvement he’s shown since Y/n left.

“Jus’ some vodka, please.” He slurs, struggling to get onto the bar stool properly.

The bartender pours him his drink, which Harry takes a big swig of. He has never been one to rely on alcohol for his problems. He’s always just learned to get over them and to never look back on the situation. But this? This is different. Alcohol is his only way of becoming numb, an attempt to escape his horrifying reality.

If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that alcohol actually makes it worse. It numbs him, but the second Y/n enters his mind, there’s no way of getting her out. At least when sober, he can cook, listen to music, read, or write to distract himself from the thoughts of her. But once alcohol is in his system, Y/n is barricaded inside, trapped in his conscious. And in some sick, twisted way, Harry loves it.

Harry lifts his drink up to his lips, looking around the bar for, hopefully, a friend he hasn’t spoken to in a while. He almost gives up on his attempts of finding company when, suddenly, he sees a mysterious woman across the bar. Maybe it’s the intoxication playing tricks on his brain, but she just looks so much like her. He can’t stop staring at her, so much of her reminds him of Y/n. The way her hair flows naturally to her breasts, and how she moves her body almost perfectly like Y/n does. He could swear she’s even holding the same drink Y/n would be, and her lips are colored with a color that reminds him so much of Y/n’s favorite lipstick shade. There is no way it is her, this isn’t her scene, but it’s almost like this woman was inspired by Y/n’s natural, charming looks.

After seeing her, everything became a blur. He remembers approaching her, but doesn’t remember any conversation they might have had. All he can remember afterward was letting her kiss him and asking if her if she wanted to leave with him. And now, he’s making out with her on his bed. His hands roaming her body, tongue battling dominance against hers. He aggressively holds her hips down, squeezing the tips of his fingers into her hips. She moans into his kiss, biting his bottom lip as her hands slide underneath his shirt. She lifts his shirt off his body, Harry panting heavy breaths before going back down to kiss her more. His lips travel to her neck, nibbling on her skin, sucking on her jawline.

His hands travel to her legs, hitching them up so they can hook around his waist. He pins her hands above her head, where she lets out a tiny giggle as he does so. His lips travel down to her chest, chin pulling down the neck of her shirt the lower he goes. His hips move against hers, the friction hot against his skin. He bites down on her shoulder, his hands gripping onto her shirt, ready to discard it from her body.

“Harry” she whispers, nails gently scraping down his back.

The voice that whispered his name makes him come in touch with reality. This isn’t right, this isn’t Y/n. How could he be touching another woman like this? She doesn’t even feel right. Her skin isn’t as soft as Y/n’s. Her hair isn’t as light at Y/n’s, either, and the way she moves against him isn’t as effortless and magnetic as Y/n’s. Her voice doesn’t make his heart race and her touch doesn’t set his skin on fire like Y/n’s always has.

Harry quickly places his hand onto her chest and pushes himself off of her.

No!” he growls.

The woman bounces on the bed, her face twisting with confusion when he begins to aggressively put his shirt back on. He’s already crying, his hands rubbing over his face as he keeps whispering “That’s not her. She’s not her.”

“What the fuck?” she squeals, propping herself up with her elbows and she stares at his back–his way of choosing to not face the situation.

“You need to get out.” Harry cries, his body like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode the second she leaves the room.

He grabs a glass from his nightstand, pouring bourbon from a bottle left there for nights he wasn’t able to sleep, an accessible reliant to help him become numb.

How could he do this? He never imagined himself being that intimate with another woman. Y/n was the only one he’s ever been comfortable with, exposing parts of him nobody else even knew existed. He may be famous, but he was never able to find women he felt stable with. To him, they were temporary, just to keep some sort of consistency in his hectic lifestyle. But he never felt love, never felt a connection with them, not until he met Y/n. She opened him up, discovered parts of him nobody else took time to discover. He never felt so alive the way he did with her, like his job and the entire world he knew meant absolutely nothing without her.

“What?” the woman asked again, sitting up at the foot of his bed.

“Please just get out!” Harry roars, his rage taking over as he throws his bourbon-filled glass across the room.

The woman flinches as pieces of broken glass fall onto the floor, quickly gathering her belongings before making her way out the bedroom door. As she was hurrying down the stairs, trying to fix herself, her body rams into another.

“What in the-?”

“S-so sorry” she stutters, “so sorry.”

Gemma turns her head around to watch the mysterious woman walk out the door. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, utterly lost as to what just happened.

“Harry?” She calls.

The only response she gets back is sounds of objects being thrown and Harry’s drunken slurs. Her eyes widen, quickly rushing up the last bit of stairs to reach where Harry is. When she reaches his bedroom, Harry is throwing the sheets off the mattress. The pillows had already been thrown across the room, the duvets pooled by his feet. He’s muttering to himself, quietly, strings of slurred curses harshly leaving his lips as he drowns in inhumane sobs. Gemma’s mouth hangs open as he aggressively flips the mattress off the springs of the bed, screaming as he does so. This is no Harry she’s ever seen. He’s almost animalistic, but in a more depressed sense, like his violence is derived from desperation and guilt.

“Harry!” Gemma yells, quickly approaching the mattress that has ended up on the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

Harry watches as she places the mattress back in it’s place, almost throwing up everything inside of him as he looks at it. It was a simple object, meant for comfort and rest. But it was so much more to him. Almost all his favorite memories with Y/n happened on that mattress. Hours of countless jokes, tickle fights, making love, and even stupid fucking fights that they later joked about happened on that mattress, between those sheets, upon those pillows. But now? He’s ruined it. He touched another woman on there, made another woman feel good on the mattress that was meant for him and Y/n.

“I was on there with some other woman” Harry breathes out, gulping once he finishes his sentence. “I don’t even know her name, Gem. I don’t know what I just did.”

She looks up at him. His face is crimson and covered in tears, his hair a complete mess, eyes red and wet, almost trying to hold back all the tears built in them. He’s shaking, almost like he’s lost control of his body.

“Harry, it’s okay. You guys- you guys aren’t together anymore. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Gemma says softly, picking at the sheets that lay on the floor.

She can’t lie, she suddenly feels like a villain when she sees him like this. He almost looks dead as he stares at the bed emotionless. Harry is the last person she’d expect to lose their temper. He was always the strong one in the family. When their parents first got divorced, Gemma had felt so broken. Anne wasn’t much better. They both broke down several times a night, holding onto each other for dear life, as if trying to keep their family together. Harry was the one who helped them through it. Although he felt as if his entire world was flipped upside down, he remained strong, for not only his family, but for himself. This had happened countless times throughout their lives. Whatever came at him, Harry was always able to take it strongly, never showing anybody, including himself, the pain that was inflicted on him.

“How could you say that?” Harry whispers, still refusing to look at Gemma. “I was on our bed with another woman. I did everything wrong.”

Not knowing how to respond, Gemma ignores his comment, blinking her tears away, quickly tearing her gaze from her broken brother to look at the shattered glass on the floor.

“Do you have any plastic bags for that?” She asks quietly, getting up from her spot to look by his nightstand.

“Closet.”

Gemma opens up his closet, looking sadly at the half-filled rack of Harry’s clothes. They are pushed perfectly to one side, as if he felt like he couldn’t occupy Y/n’s. It doesn’t just look empty, but it feels empty, even to Gemma. It doesn’t even look right.

She shakes her head, rummaging through a bin on the floor. As she grabs a plastic bag from the bottom, a small, black velvet box falls onto the floor right by her feet. Gemma’s heart drops the second she sees it, almost afraid of what it actually is.

She hesitantly picks it up, opening it slowly. A sob rips through her, a diamond engagement ring set perfectly in its place. It shines against the dimmed lights in Harry’s bedroom, making Gemma’s heart break.

“What is this, Harry?” Gemma asks.

Harry doesn’t answer, unmoving in the same position, looking at his bed, silent cries and words of guilt leaving his mouth as Gemma speaks.

“Harry, what is this?” she asks, harsher this time, demanding for the answer she needs to hear from him.

He turns his head over, looking sadly at the box, his lips pressed harshly together. He closes his eyes, excess tears running down his cheeks, almost wishing he wasn’t reminded of it. He looks down, his hand traveling to the back of his neck.

“I was going to marry her” Harry whispers, “Wanted to marry her.”

Gemma inhales sharply, her face twisting with guilt as she looks at her brother like he’s a lost puppy. She feels her heart break for him. Not only did he not get the chance to marry Y/n, but it was her own fault that he couldn’t marry her. It was Y/n’s choice to break off things with Harry, and honestly, Gemma couldn’t be happier when she found out they weren’t together anymore. She wanted Harry to move on and find a woman who respected and loved him for who he was, not for his money. But as she looks at him now, alone and emotionally damaged, how could she be happy? He wanted marriage, a life and a family with Y/n, and she completely broke that. She had completely taken away his happiness and future.

“H-Harry, I-“

Her apology is interrupted by the doorbell, making her sigh before putting the ring back in the bin.

“I’ll get it. Just try to clean up, please.”

Harry gives her a small nod before Gemma makes her way down the steps, wiping her sweating hands on her jeans before making her way to the door. When she opens it, her breath is taken right out of her lungs. Y/n is standing there, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

She didn’t expect Gemma to answer, but it was exactly what she wanted. Since everything happened, Y/n felt guilty for not talking things out with Harry. Oh, how she missed him. How every part of her craved him everyday. How her skin craved his touch, how her ears craved his voice and lips craved his. No part of her was able to let him go. She attempted to many times to rid the pain that has inevitably taken over her, but nothing could help her. She was helpless, the pain had consumed her whole and made her into an emotionless woman, unable to feel anything besides pain.

She regretted everything. He was willing to throw everything away for them. He fought for their relationship so strongly, and she just left, not putting up a fight back. Y/n planned on talking to Gemma, however, she didn’t think it would happen so soon. She intended on working things out with Harry before making peace with her, but it seems as though she has to start where she wanted to end.

“Y/n.” Gemma breathes out, almost relieved.

Y/n’s shocked when she hears Gemma say her name. She normally says it with such disgust, like it was poison to her. But something about the way she said it now, and the way she looks at her as she does so, that genuinely makes her believe everything will be okay.

“G-Gemma, I just want to um, want to say that-“

“I know” Gemma interrupts, “I know what you’re gonna say, but you don’t have to say it. I treated you like utter scum, Y/n, and you never deserved that. I know you’re not having Harry pay for your schooling anymore, and that just makes me feel so bad. You work hard, Y/n, you really do. You work harder than anybody I’ve known, and I just jumped to conclusions.”

“Gemma, I-”

“Let me finish” Gemma states, “I was protective of my brother because all his past girlfriends were only with him for his money. I never did anything about it, you know? I just watched it all happen, and when I heard that he was dating someone low income, I just-I just felt like I had to do something. Which sounds so stupid because you love him so much. You cared so much about him and his family that you broke your own heart just so that he didn’t have to choose between you and his family. You have done so much for my brother, and I never saw that, and I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so, so sorry.”

Y/n nods, a small smile on her face as she lets out a breath of relief.

“It’s okay” she smiles, “Honestly, I understand.”

Gemma smiles, looking down at the ground before opening the door wider.

“Harry’s um, Harry’s upstairs. You can go in. I’ll leave you two alone.”

Y/n smiles, muttering a small “thank you,” while hugging Gemma for the first time before making her way up the steps.

“Harry?” she calls when she reaches the bedroom door.

She sees him standing in the same place, stiff, tears continuously rolling down his cheeks. He isn’t how she remembered. There is no glow to him, no life left inside of him. There is no bit of the Harry she knew inside this man, instead, all she sees is a broken man, with his soul completely taken out of him.

His eyes look up at her, and he swears his knees almost give out on him the second he sees her in their bedroom.

“Y-Y/n?” He whispers.

“Hey” she says softly, slowly walking towards him, making sure to not step on any of the mess on the floor. “I wanted to talk.”

She moves to sit onto the bed, but Harry is quick to grab onto her arm before she can,

“Don’t-don’t sit there,” he pleas softly, shaking his head, “I just-I just had a woman on there, but we didn’t do anything besides kiss and I know that doesn’t make a difference, and I am so, so sorry, Y/n, but I was drunk and I was trying to help me recover from all of this but it wasn’t working, and I am so sorry but can’t see you sit there right now.”

Y/n lets a few tears fall at his confession, but she can’t blame him for it. It hurts her, it hurts her tremendously to know he was with another girl before she came here. But what else did she expect? When she was gone, she wanted him to move on and find somebody else. She was the one who broke things off, she wanted him to find someone worthy for his family’s acceptance. She just couldn’t blame him, no matter how much it hurt.

“It’s okay, Harry” she whispers, placing her hand softly against his cheek, “I understand, it’s okay.”

He lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head softly, one of his hands reaching up to hold hers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us,” Y/n cries, “I just walked away and I never gave us a chance. You are the love of my life and I didn’t even fight for you. I did it because I love you, and I couldn’t be the one to stand in between your relationship with Gemma. She’s your sister, and no matter how much I love you, I can’t be selfish with you. I had to let you go so that you can have your family.”

“Oh, baby” Harry sobs, pulling her against his body.

His forehead presses against hers, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. They’re both crying, breaking down for the amount of time they’ve spent apart.

“I know, baby, I know. I just can’t live without you. You’re my everything, you know that? My money, my image, my life means nothing without you. I would give it all up for you.”

Y/n nods, sobbing at his words. She lifts his head from hers, her thumb wiping away his tears before pressing her lips to his. They kiss hungrily, starving from their lack of one another. Every bit of their bodies like magnets, drawn to each other the closer they get.

“Gotta ask you something, baby” Harry breathes out between kisses, detaching himself from her lips and resting his forehead against hers, his breathing harsh and spreading upon her face.

“Fuck, baby, lemme ask you something.”

Her eyes close softly as she nods, biting her lip as she tries to catch her breath between their feverish kissing and died down sobs.

Harry takes in a breath of preparation before kneeling down on one knee, both his hands taking hers in his and running his thumbs across her knuckles.

Y/n gasps, teary eyes staring wildly at his as she begins to process what’s happening. She knew they’d get married one day, however, she started doubting her greatest dreams once they broke up. 

But knowing it’s all coming back to life makes her heart race in her chest. This is what she’s been waiting for- everything she’s been wanting for since the moment she fell in love with Harry.

And it’s all happening in the time they both need it most.

“Oh, baby” she whispers, raking her hands through her hair. Her bottom lip begins to quiver while tears of excitement begin to fall down her cheeks. 

Harry grips her thighs in his hands as he stares lovingly in her eyes.

“Y/n, baby. The moment I met you, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re the love of my life, you know. You complete me and inspire me to be a better man every single day. And when you left me, I swore to myself that if you ever decided to come back to me, I’d do everything in my power to keep you by my side. So, baby, will you please marry me?”

Y/n’s hand covers her mouth as she attempts to suppress a sob, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Y- yes!” She almost screams, “God, Harry, yes!”

Harry’s face breaks into a smile he’s ever given, jumping from his kneeling position before bringing Y/n into his arms. They both laugh, share the sweetest of kisses, and cry together as they imagine what the future is holding for the both of them. 

What You Need

Requested: hey!!! okay so I’m a senior rn and I’m super stressed w high school but also choosing a college and applying for scholarships and stuff so could you do one where y/n is in that situation and tries to bottle up all her stress and emotions but eventually breaks down in a panic and ShawN has to like calm her down & stuff? Thankkkkk you !

Masterlist

~~~

Between trying decide on which college you’ll attend in the fall, trying to keep up with your last year of high school, and being pressured to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life, to say you’re stressed would be an understatement. You’re beginning to feel like you really might be going crazy. There is just so much going on. Also, having a boyfriend who also happens to be a famous singer doesn’t seem to help lower your stress levels at all because you worry about him, and you want to make sure that you’re able to be there for him as well.

He’s been home for the past week on a little break from work, which he so deserves. It has been nice because you’ve finally gotten to spend some time with him, which helps you to feel better. But at the same time, he’s really stressed with his next world tour starting soon, and he’s been dealing with his own things. Because of this you want to be there for him, and you’re hesitant to share that you’re struggling a lot too, so you’ve been doing your best to hide it from him, but that has only taken more from you.  

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

(part 1) How to build credit: Method 1: If there is a bank/credit union that is near you that is known for giving people loans who have no or poor credit, take out a SMALL loan and IMMEDIATELY stuff that loan $ into a savings account. Use said loan money to pay off the loan (I know Community of America is pretty liberal on giving out loan if there is one in your area). - Your friendly banker

Thank you, banker anon!

Gemma Doesn’t Like You

YO I’M BACK


“Are you nervous?” Harry asks, gripping onto Y/n’s hand as he starts his three hour drive to his sister’s house.

In their now one year of dating, Y/n is finally meeting Harry’s sister, Gemma. With their schedules being tied from Y/n’s university, to Gemma’s new job, and Harry’s recent solo work, there was barely any time for either of them to take a three hour drive for them to meet. But with somehow a lot of convincing bosses and Y/’s spring break, it’s finally time for Y/n to meet Harry’s “second half.”

“I’m okay.” Y/n replies reluctantly. 

In all honesty, she’s scared shitless. Even though the rest of Harry’s family practically coos over Y/n, Y/n wasn’t raised in a high income family. She shared a two bedroom apartment with her two parents and her two older brothers her entire life. Her only time out of the house was when she went off to school or work, never really having a social life because she neither had time or money for it. This news has been everywhere in the tabloids. How Y/n is living in Harry’s home, how Y/n is only paying off debt and university because of Harry’s wealth. But even though those statements are completely true, it is nothing like what it seems. There is an entirely different story underneath their publications that nobody understands besides Harry and Y/n. And that’s what scares her the most.

“Don’t worry, baby. She’ll love you. She can read whatever she wants, yeah? But all she needs to pay attention to is who you really are.”

Y/n almost throws up at this. 

Harry holds her hand tighter. He knows she knows Gemma has already tried to get Harry to break up with her for a while now. She thinks that Y/n is nothing but a gold digger, using a sympathy card to get every ounce of money out of him so that she can manage a living. Of course that wasn’t the case, and Harry would be willing to spend the rest of his life disproving his sister. And he’s starting today.

“Who I really am is not going to impress her, Harry. I have nothing set out for me.”

“Woah woah woah, wait a second, don’t say things like that.”

“It’s the truth.” She shrugs.

“That’s far from it. You’ve been busting your ass trying to finish school. I have never seen someone be so determined to accomplish anything in my life. You inspire me everyday, every single day. When I feel like giving up or thinking what I’m doing isn’t worth it, I think of your ability to overcome any of that. It doesn’t matter your money, Y/n, you’re the best person I’ve ever met. I’d do anything to be half the woman you are.”

Y/n smirks, letting out a slight chuckle. She leans over to press a gentle kiss on his cheek, rubbing her nose slightly against the skin.

“So you wanna be a woman, huh?”

Harry laughs, sneaking a look at her from the corner of his eye. Her hair in loose curls, diamond stud earrings glistening on her ears, a small smile playing on her lips, her eyes trained on the road in front of her.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Harry sighs, “you’ll always have me.”


Pulling up into Gemma’s driving gave Y/n enough fear to almost pass out on the walk to her front door. Everything she has felt about this day is building up so much inside of her that her body almost feels numb. 

“Stop stressing, darling” Harry chuckles, “it’ll be fine.”

When taking the steps up to her door, Y/n had to grab onto Harry’s hand in case she wanted to run away. Harry gave her a reassuring kiss before he opened the door and walked inside her home.

“Gem! We’re here!”

Her house is everything Y/n expected it to be. Everything is open, everything all in one place, nothing to separate the rooms. It all looked so expensive, there is nothing Y/n has ever seen like it. All she can see herself doing in it is dancing without having any walls to bump into.

Gemma walks out from the kitchen, looking slightly uneasy, but smiling as she gave her brother a welcoming hug. When releasing herself from Harry, Gemma gives Y/n the most disgusting look she has ever seen.

“So, this is Y/N”

Y/n disregards the way she says it. She’s going to do her best to get Gemma’s liking, there is no way she can mess this up,

“Hello, Gemma, it’s wonderful to meet you.” Y/n smiles, sticking her hand out to properly introduce herself. Gemma smiles slightly, looking down at Y/n’s hand.  

“Is there any reason my brother is paying your university tuition, Y/n?

The way she says her name burns Y/n’s insides, like her name is toxic on the tongue. She slowly puts her hand down, tucking it underneath her other arm as her second hand moves to push twist her hair. 

“O- Oh, um..”

“Gemma!” Harry seethes, “what the hell?”

“N- No, Harry,” Y/n interjects, shaking her head slightly, “it’s fine. It’s just that my family isn’t financially stable. They obviously wanted me to get into the best university I could, so when I got accepted, I began to take out student loans. I was on work study and we were provided a good amount of financial aid but it wasn’t enough for us. I ended up owing a lot of money to the bank and-“

“So you had my brother use all the money he saved up from his career to pay for you?”

Y/n stands wide-eyed, clearly not expecting the accusation of her using him. It took Y/n months before agreeing to let Harry pay her tuition. He had offered since the day he met her. She stressed herself out in ways he’d never seen. He felt his career wasn’t even half of what she put herself through at the time. He had all the money for everything she wanted, he was willing to give every penny he had to her, drop everything he’s worked for and give it all to her. He didn’t need it anymore. He had spent his entire life building and building his future. He spent five years making money that he didn’t even know what to do with. He found his girl, he found the one he was going to marry. He had a house, a beautiful house, one he could still pay off because he’s still being paid for being in the media. He lived his dream, there was no reason to keep it. None.
After what felt like years of Harry begging her, to the point where he even went on his knees, to help her get through her financial crisis, she couldn’t say no. Not to that amount of desperation, not when he was in tears watching her suffer so much.

“Wh- what? No, no that’s not what I’m saying at all!”

“What the fuck, Gem?!” Harry growls, his eyes narrowing, pulling Y/n closer to his side. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.“

“That’s bullshit!” Gemma spits, taking a threatening step closer to Y/n, who’s shaking and choking back her stupid tears.

“What are the chances a girl like you gets it on with my brother?! Huh? What are the fucking chances of that?!" 

“THAT IS FUCKING ENOUGH!” Harry booms, pushing his hand out to push Gemma away from Y/n.

He swears, he could fucking break her wrists in half. Gemma was the last person he expected to judge Y/n on her economic class. He actually thought they’d get on extremely well. He never expected to be holding Gemma back from punching a fearful, shaken up Y/n, whom he wishes more than anything to be comforting right now, but is too scared to set Gemma out of his grasp. 

Y/n steps back, taking in a harsh breath as the wind is knocked right out of her. She genuinely feels like someone punched her in the throat, which probably would have happened if Harry wasn’t holding Gemma back as hard as he is.
She feels the tears that were building up in her eyes slowly start to fall, her barrier completely breaking down. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, nothing was. She’s not supposed to make Harry’s family hate her. She wanted to become apart of it, grow old and pass down more generations of it. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

In the mix of her emotions, Y/n puts on the fakest fucking smile she’s ever put on. Of course it’s not on there for long. She looks down the second it disappears, falling just as quickly as it formed. If she continues to fight for herself, there would be no room for any hope she wishes to carry that Gemma will somehow see her differently. 

“You don’t have to worry about this anymore, Gemma” she cries, little pathetic sobs finding their way from her throat, “I’m going to go now.”

Harry’s head whips up, his heart suddenly stopping when he sees her turn away. 

“No.” He whispers, “baby, baby don’t.” 

His hands loosen around Gemma’s wrists. Not giving a crap what she decides to do once he lets go, his hands fall completely to his sides when he sees her run out the front door.

“I never want her back in this goddamn house, Harry, I swear-”

Never fucking speak to me again!” Harry roars, “if I ever fucking see you after this you’re done! Do you understand that?! You’re fucking done!”

Gemma gasps, flinging her hands into the air.

“What the fuck?! Are you blind, Harry?! I’m protecting you!”

Harry’s hands clench into fists, all his anger building up inside of him. He drove three hours, taking Y/n’s spring break time, the only time she can ever relax, away from her, just to show up here and have Gemma disrespect Y/n like that? How dare she even think about that? How dare she belittle her in front of him like that?

Before Harry can even think properly, his fist is colliding harshly against the wall. He felt nothing, only a few pieces of the cement falling to his feet and the horrified look Gemma is looking at him with.

“You’re a piece of shit! You’re fucking dead to me! You’re fucking done!”

Before Harry wastes anymore time, he’s out that door in seconds. He runs in the direction their house is. He’s never run quicker, as if his legs are full speed and his mind is scattered all around him. Nothing is making sense, everything he thought he knew was falling apart. The life he’s built himself is crumbling beneath him, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“Y/n, Y/n wait!” Harry yells once he sees her running. 

She can hear him, she can hear him loud and clear, but her legs don’t stop moving, and she hasn’t even turned her head to look at him. She can’t, she can’t look at everything she’s ever loved and walk away from it. It’ll be too much for her, she’ll break the second she looks at him and she knows it.

Before Y/n can quicken her pace, Harry grabs onto her wrist so tight that she somehow ended up ramming into his chest. He immediately begins to cry, grabbing her face in his hands as he forces her eyes to land on him.

“Don’t leave me, baby. Don’t leave me.”

“Harry-“

“Not over my fucking sister, Y/n. Please, you can’t do that to me. You can’t.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, breaking down entirely as she feels him hold her. How in the world is she going to do this? It’s either she stays with Harry and gets tormented by his sister, who will make her life a living hell, or she leaves Harry, and lives the rest of her life alone because she can’t find love in anyone else.

She almost considers staying with him. Almost. But there is no way she can stay together with him and live her entire life being hated by somebody who means more to Harry than she does. She just can’t.

“She’s right. This whole thing. All of this is a mistake, we’re too different. This isn’t right.” Y/n sobs.

“NO!” Harry barks, pressing his forehead so hard onto hers he wouldn’t be shocked if he broke his skull from it. 

“You don’t dare say that shit to me. You don’t say that to me.”

Y/n shakes her head, pushing him off of her as hard as she could.

“That’s your sister, the way she spoke to me.”

“I don’t care. I’ll never let her in again, she won’t have any fucking sense in this, baby. Nothing will get in our way.”

But she just can’t.

“I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Harry swears he feels his heart ripping in half at her words. His body feels completely detached, like every bone is breaking and all he has left to do is fall in front of her. He holds onto her legs like it’s his last hope. His sobs draining out everything in his head and all he can fucking feel is the mix of his heart being taken right out of his chest and her hands running softly through his hair.

“Please, Y/n.” Is the only thing is brain can muster. Please, please, please. Any source of desperation to keep her with him, that’s the only thing his brain can produce.

He grips onto her legs tighter, his forehead pressed against her knees. He feels her tug at his hair, hears her cry and curse under her breath. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Please.”

She sighs, a last cry ripping from her.

“I can’t.”

The One Where Everyone Ships It

Here it is - the entry for @sterek-bingo I’ve been most excited to post! I really, really enjoyed writing this one and just had so much fun with it, so I’m really glad that the theme came up on day 3.

This story was written for the Friends To Lovers square on my BINGO card. (AO3 link here).


The One Where Everyone Ships It

Stiles doesn’t notice when it’s Scott, because Scott has a habit of being weird about things. That is, after all, one of the reasons they’re such good friends. So when Scott spends about half an hour chewing his bottom lip in the front seat of the Jeep when Stiles has dropped him home, Stiles just figures that whatever he’s trying to get out is something to do with Kira. Frankly, he doesn’t really want to know; Scott has never understood the meaning of the term overshare.

“Scotty,” he says patiently. “Spit it out.”

Scott gives him an awkward sidelong glance. “Um,” he says, and then stops. He takes a deep breath; Stiles waits with his eyebrows raised. “Do you think Derek is happy in the pack, now that he’s not the Alpha anymore?”

Obviously, he’s bottled out of telling Stiles whatever Kira-thing he’d been thinking, and picked on the first subject that he could think of. Stiles rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he says.

“I like Derek,” Scott says.

Stiles frowns at him. “Um, duh?” They all like Derek; he and Stiles are oddly good friends these days.

“Okay,” Scott says, and gets out of the car.

Keep reading

Crazy to think that a college education is seen as the key to upward mobility but at the end of the day it’s a business just like everything else that needs to exist in a capitalist society and therefore rigged against poor people. Big banks make enormous profit from kids who are forced to take out loans with high interest just to pay tuition and end up trapped with it for years to come inhibiting them to move up economically and hardly any alternatives are available because community colleges, state schools and trades are so looked down upon because of classism. Also all the issues that come with turning education into a profit making institution

I’m considering closing my Etsy store. I opened it to help pay for textbooks and the loans I had to take out to afford college. In the two years it’s been open I have had 30 sales, 25 of which were made in a two week period last August.

I am spending more money on supplies and listings then I am making since I am not getting any orders.