the things i do for my wife

To the Men in My Life

To the men that roll their eyes with a laugh in their throat when I say

I don’t like rap music

And follow my remark with something of

of course you don’t, you probably like something more FEMANINE like John Mayer

and don’t hold a speck understanding to why my MORE FEMANINE music is more satisfying to my ears

who don’t think about the words of their rap music

and the things that’s it says about the treatment

of girls and women or bitches and sluts

and whose response to my explanation of the damaging words their music holds is

it’s just a song

get over yourself

this poem, it’s for you

To the men who talk about their trophy wife in front of me

And smile when I say something like

of course, Id marry him

and laugh when I comment on his gorgeous eyes and his perfect body

but are uncomfortable when I comment on the many things I would do to him

and FAIL to realize that as a woman I am still a sexual being with sexual desires

and who don’t understand that being hopelessly romantic and a sexual creature are not mutually exclusive

this poem, its for you

And to the men that think I’m making a joke when I say

Id marry her

And assume only gay and straight and nothing in between

And still use gay and queer and fag as their largest insult

But lay on claims of progressiveness and being open-minded

Who promise to love me no matter what, but still

Are uncomfortable when I ask

What’s wrong with liking both?

This poem, its  for you

To the men who chuckle out

You’re too cute

In the most condensing manner

When I get excited about the little things in life like puppies and kittens and babies and girls nights

But scream and cheer and even get aggressively

angry about a glorified game on catch

a game of catch, that if I have an opinion on gets laughed off or ignored

because what do I know?

And who give me similar reactions when I speak of politics or science

And label me as

The girl who talks to much

Or as ‘one of the guys’

Who’s ‘always just a friend’

This poem, it’s for you

To the men who don’t understand what it is like being women in a man’s world

And don’t recognizes that the steps we have taken as women still aren’t enough

Who point at the pepper spray on my keychain with a laugh

And look confused when people comment on the brilliance of it

The men that don’t understand that catcalling isn’t something that only happens by the construction workers or in the alley at dusk

But on college campus walking to English class

Who don’t understand that sisters, and mothers, and girlfriends, and aunts

Have probably been sexually harassed

This poem, its for you

To the men who treat the word feminism like it’s a curse

And shake their heads and say

all lives matter

who inform me that ‘white privilege’ isn’t a real thing

and that are shocked that I, as a white woman, think it is

and the men who use the word girl and wimp synonymously

when talking to their friends about not having the courage to do something

and get offended when I say or act upset

and assure me that

they didn’t mean it like that

this poem, its for you

To the men that are ready to be fathers to sons but are scared by the thought of daughters

This poem, is for you  

To the men who want to love like a father but don’t know how to love their child’s

mother

this poem, is for you

to the men who compliment my body and forget that I have brains

this poem, is for you

to the men who want to try to be better

but have no idea where to begin

this poem, is for you

stop

stop insisting

stop ignoring

stop presuming

avoiding, discounting, taking

stop talking

stop telling me you know ‘exactly what imp going through’

because you do not

fucking stop

and listen

listen to your mother, your wife, your aunt, your sister.

Listen to the women bagging your groceries, and the women running for office

Listen to your son’s teacher and your mom’s caretaker

Listen to their stories, their obstacles, the things that scare them

Listen to their lives, and their dreams, and their hopes for this nation

Their hopes for you

Listen and understand that you

Don’t have all the answers and neither do they

Understand that you are wrong sometimes

And so am I

And that maybe, just maybe

Being a woman is harder than you think

Oh, sorry, what was that.

I zoned out for a second

Oh yeah, I do prefer John Meyer

I got tagged by aimofdestiny, so here ya go!

1. Last Movie I Watched: My wife and I are in the midst of our periodic rewatch of the Lord of the Rings movies, so we most recently finished “Fellowship of the Rings” (extended edition).  Before that, I managed to drag her through the animated Hobbit & Lord of the Rings movies.  Alas, no luck getting her to watch the animated “Return of the King.”

2. Last Song I Listened To: Well I’m currently listening to my Shadowrun/Synthwave station for motivation/inspiration on my Shadowrun campaign, and Timecop1983′s “Lovers” is currently playing.

3. Last Book I Read:  The Adventures of Archer & Armstrong, Volume 1: In the Bag

4. The Last Thing I Ate: Siggi’s strawberry rhubarb yogurt

5. If I Could Be an Anywhere Now, Where Would I Be: At home finishing “Mirror’s Edge” or working on Shadowrun game prep with Glitch Mob blaring at full blast.

6. Where Would I Time Travel: Don’t you mean when would I Time Travel?  

Okay, sorry…. ummm….  I dunno.  I very much like living in the here & now.  I like Edwardian fashion, jazz clubs, garage rock, and punk bands.  Living now I can take all the things I like about the past and combine them however I want.  

But maybe it would be kind of cool to go back & check out Woodstock, just to see the difference between the reality and the legend?

7. What Fictional Character Would I Spend The Day With: 

I have always thought MacGyver would be a nice guy to hang out with.  Or maybe Kermit the Frog.

anonymous asked:

So I kinda id as demigirl fornsome time now. I dont mind being called a girl, lady, she/her they them/them works. Ts just it always ticked me off when my dad and uncles from dad’s side always goes on “no you should dress like this” “yes thats good thats what a future wife role should do” “aww our baby girl is training to be a mother” “dont sit like that you are a lady”. Like, Those words made me mad. Doesn’t help I lowkey hate their side of family for years due to personal problem rn.

I think it’s completely normal to be annoyed by that! I think the best thing to do, is just avoid talking to these people as much as you can and if you have to, try to ignore what they’re saying and if you need a break, bathrooms are great. After you see them, take some time for self care. And remember that you don’t have to put up with annoying family (forever) if you don’t want to. Not speaking to certain family members anymore is totally okay.

.- Helper Alex

“I’m pretty sure I’m a sociopath. Or something close to it. My parents were pilots, so I spent most of my early childhood on a small island in Tunisia. The only other kids were the children of a local hotelkeeper. I was so isolated that I even invented my own words. By the time I got to high school, I was a monster. I only cared about being the best. I was a bully. I’d argue just for the sake of arguing. I would destroy any belief, just to be right. My behavior is different now. But I think I’m still a sociopath. I’m not sure I feel empathy. But I do always try to make the empathetic choice. It’s an intellectual thing for me. I’m intellectually convinced of the need for empathy. I choose to help other people. I choose to be a reliable friend. I have a wonderful wife who judges me by my actions, and not my reasons for them. Sometimes I feel like Pinocchio. Was he a real boy? Yes, because that’s what he always strived to be.”

i mean can we stop with the trope of the white guy who is an entire asshole being forgiven for his sins just because he loves a woman i mean full offense but the capacity for a selfish love doesn’t in any way shape or form make someone “secretly good.” stop using women as a prop piece to humanize people, stop making the plot of a woman eventually flatten into “training montage for the soft side of a mean person” also tbh this is straight up irl a thing that happens where people are like “oh of course im not sexist! i have a wife!!!” this is bc we teach ppl that having a relationship with a minority forgives you of bias so anyway what i’m saying here is anybody can think they’re in love abusers often do think they’re in love it doesn’t make them a good person 

[TRANS] non-no Magazine 2018 Jan Issue - 100 Answers w/ BTS

JPN - KRN © 전정국 DC갤러리, 뷔 DC갤러리, ha_ru_man, BTSR_613
KRN - ENG © ktaebwi

JUNGKOOK

Q1. Your dream job when you were a child?
A badminton player when I was in elementary school. After that my parents bought me a computer so I got into gaming and wanted to do a job about gaming.

Q2. How did the members celebrate your birthday in 2017?
We were all practicing singing and dancing and the lights suddenly went off, then the door was opened and Jimin-san and V-san came in holding a cake.

Q3. When do you feel like you have become an adult!
I turned 20 in Japanese age in September! But actually I’m still a kid at heart, so truthfully I don’t really feel like I have become an adult.

Q4. In which moment do you feel like you’re still a kid?
For example, when I watch and think about a video or an interview. When I read people’s comments, I feel like even with the same question, they think from a much bigger point of view than me. That’s when I feel like maybe I’m still lacking in depth.

Q5. A work that touched you recently?
“Love, Rosie”. It made me touched because it’s a sweet but sad love story.

Q6. The kind of song you’re planning to compose?
Song of styles like future base and chillstep which I enjoy and listen to a lot.

Q7. Favorite dessert?
The Japanese snack kinako mochi. I like that it melts in my mouth because it’s just so fluffy! Also I ate cheesecake before the photoshoot for <non-no>. That one was delicious too♡

Q8. How do you take care of your beautiful voice?
I don’t pay particular attention to it… Like I just sing with my original voice I’ve had since I was born…

Q9. Any habit?
Covering my nose when I yawn. Not mouth but nose somehow. (laughs) And I pull the baby hair on my face unconsciously. I know about these things because fans told me.

Keep reading

Laundromat.
This one is kind of a funny thing.. It’s Sunday night, I’m too tired to think of something to draw so I just started doodling and I drew a laundromat, then a character and then I thought.. Ha! What if that was Peter Parker doing his laundry? My wife saw it and said.. what if other superheroes come here too? So I added Daredevil( BTW.. totally off topic.. If you like great comic art.. go check out Chris Samnee’s work… he’s AMAZING!!)

So.. That’s how this one came about.
At least it makes ME smile!


#pascalcampion #Laundromat #Spiderman #Daredevil #whoisthatguyintheyellowshirtintheback  #canyouspotthelastone?

How does #MeToo and #TimesUp affect literary giants?

The last time I reblogged a photoset of Simone de Beauvoir books, @andrewjacksonscenichikes made a comment that has stuck with me: “In the wake of all the recent Hollywood sexual assault allegations I would appreciate if you would hold off on reposting a serial child molester.” (Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre have a lurid history of sexual misconduct involving children.) 

I didn’t delete my post, but that comment really got me thinking. In light of #MeToo and #TimesUp, which has led to the falling of so many giants in the entertainment industry, do we need to take a similar stance with literary giants who were terrible people or who did terrible things? I’ve already mentioned de Beauvoir and Sartre, but what about William Golding, who attempted to rape a 15 year old girl? What about William S. Burroughs, who got drunk and shot his wife? What about J.D. Salinger? I’m sure there are scores of other authors we could cite (and I’d appreciate it if people would chime in with more names we may need to reconsider.)

Do we ignore important works by these authors because of the lives they lived and the things they did? Does the fact that most of these authors are now dead make a difference? Does de Beauvoir’s actions negate her important feminist work The Second Sex? Or should we continue to read them but with mental asterisks in our minds? 

Daddy Space

I perfectly understand my wife is a grown woman. She’s very strong willed and independent and likes to do things on her own and I love that! I love that once she sets her mind to get stuff done she gets it done. I love that she doesn’t need anyone to help her. But she’s also my sweet little girl. Like most caregivers I have a strong need to be needed. I need to take care of someone, protect them, and provide for them. I need to be the one to wipe away her tears and chase away her fears. Somehow she gets this idea that she asks too much of me. That I don’t like getting up to fill her sippy or picking up her stuffie she dropped or picking out clothes for her to wear. If I didn’t like it I wouldn’t do it! I do it because of the smile that she gets on her face. I do it so I can hear her sweet voice say “Thank you, Daddy!”. I do it because it makes me feel strong. It makes me feel like I’m worth something if I can take care of her. Little space is about feeling small and vunerable, Daddy Space is about feeling strong and helpful.


-Wolf

HillyBilly Science

I was thinking about a bunch of things, partly “If it’s stupid, but it works, it isn’t stupid.” and Jeff Foxworthy’s bit about abducting Hillbillies.

And that got me thinking. A lot of the things that make our modern life possible were discovered either by accident, or were developed for an entirely different reason. What if, after humanity is integrated into the Galactic neighborhood, we quickly make a name for ourselves as some of the best scientists using what the Galaxy eventually exasperatedly dub “Hillbilly science.”

The Galactic Council was in chaos. In said chaos, no one had thought to mention to Qua'Lach'Gil why he’d been summoned, only that it was absolutely necessary that je be present for the proceedings. As je walked through the doors, je could see assistants and Gophers running every which way. What could be so important? Qua thought to jemself. Quickly he made his way to the Antechamber of the Council, only to find a very small human sitting in the middle, surrounded by the entirety of the Galactic council.

“I was requested for an audience with the Council?” Qua said in Plain Tongue.

“Yes,” Klght-Auiao, Councilbeing for the Quint replied, “As Chief Scientist of the Galactic Council Science division, and Head Archivist of Discovery, we thought it prudent to have you present. You see, the human female that stands before you has discovered how to make a “Warp Gate Wormhole,” by her own words…on accident.“ The Councilbeing said the word "accident” as if it tasted bad, and, Qua thought, they probably did. Quint were scientific beings, and they’d been trying to crack the warpgate for some time, only to have it ripped out from under them by a human on accident.

“So,” The Humans Council man started, “How did you, ahem, accidentally discover how to make a warp gate?”

“First,” Qua interrupted as je pulled out a AV recording device, “Could you please state your name, job title, degree or degrees, and why you were out there for the Archive?” Qua'Lach'Gil was doing this for jes job, yes, but also for the protection of the human. The Gil, and most of the other species in the room, were above foul play, and stealing. But the Quint, and a few other species had reputations for doing science first, and talking about ethics later.

“Ah, yes, I am Dr. Eliaza Yu-on. Currently in between jobs, but I guess you could say I am contracted through the Galactic Council usually. I have doctorates in Math, physics, Quantum Physics, Theoretical Physics, and Agriculture. I was out in the Asteroid belt around the Terran solar system doing experiments on my Chronotonic Engine and propulsion system.”

“Okay,” Qua nodded, “And what happened to cause the worm hole?”

“So, for those of you who aren’t scientist. In order to harvest Chronotons, you need to literally connect to the uh "fabric” of the universe, and by doing some, whatever is connected is then anchored to those specific coordinates IN the universe, and the only way to move it is to either destroy the thing itself, or disengage the anchors.“ Elaiza takes a breath, "So, I anchored the Chronotonic Engine, and began harvesting. After I harvested the chronotons, I was using them to-”

“While this is very interesting,” Qua said with sincerity, “and I want to continue this later, can we um, move to the discovery at hand?”

“Oh! Yes, sorry! Anyway, I was in the middle of my experiment when my wife called on the SatCom, reminding me it was the twins birthday. Now, I know I should have disengaged the anchors, but it had been a couple of days since I had slept, so I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just hopped in the cockpit, and engaged the Hyperdrive. Now, how a hyperdrive works, unlike a wormhole, or warp gate, instead of "Folding the universe and then punching through to the other side”, it creates a bubble in which the space between coordinates A and B is measurably smaller. Or one could say it stretches whatever is inside the bubble out. That would also stretch out the space between the anchors. Then, when the bubble pops, it retracts away from the original coordinates. Well, when the bubble popped, the anchors couldn't retract, because they were anchored to the universe, so one half of the anchors are were I anchored them, and one half are where I came out of hyper space at, and the force literally pulled those to places of the universe together, and simultaneously punched through the space between them. And until one side of the anchors is pulled through, it's forcing the wormhole to stay open.“

Qua gawked in awe, this human had simply stumbled upon True instantaneous transportation simply from a lack of sleep, and the inability to remember dates people where born on. Until now, Qua hadn’t believe in the phrase "HillBilly Science,” But now, things were different.

Submitted by: @shaggyredhead-blog 

The Losers Club as things my dad have said.

Bill: “did you heard that?Something or someone is making random noises. Let’s go check where it comes from. What’s the worst thing that can happen? One of us dying? Pff”

Stan: “And there he is, my son in law, doing his bar mitzvah speech. I don’t know what the fuck is he talking about but I’m so proud of him.”

Mike: -while playing monopoly- “Fucking hell I just wanted to raise my kids in a fucking farm but my wife keeps wanting to buy houses in Milan. Why don’t you want a fucking farm, love? We can raise a cow there.”

Eddie: “Come on dude, you have to take your medicine or you are going to die. -wHat do you mean about me exaggerating? YOU HAVE THE FLU TAKE YOUR FUCKING MEDICINE OR YOU ARE GOING TO DIE SON”.

Ben: -sees a random stranger crying in the park- “hey dude, you okay? Do you want me to sit with you so we can talk about what a shitty life we are living? Yeah? Okay, you start”.

Richie: -sits in the dinner table with his 1 year old son and looks at the salad. Uses his son middle finger and raises it to his wife- “you traitor, I thought we were eating hamburgers today. Fuck you”.

Beverly: -looking at himself in the mirror- “bitch you are beautiful, strong and independent. The world doesn’t deserve you, definitely not.”

Bucky-plums-barnes Masterlist!

I finally had the time to update my masterlist. It’s a long list, but I really hope you enjoy it. Come let me know your favourites!

*Find the other characters masterlist here

Sebmas - Christmas drabbles and edits

The Sweetest Thing - Drabble series with Baker!Bucky and reader

Every Rose has its Thorn - A Stucky x Reader series featuring Florist!Steve and Biker!Bucky

The Secret Life of Pets - A cute drabble series featuring all our favourite Sebastian Stan characters with pets

Riding in cars with boys - A smutty drabble series featuring all our favourite Sebastian Stan characters in cars, so come along for the ride.

Front Line Love - Reader a nurse during WW2 finds herself at the same camp as Bucky.  (SMUT)

100 Banging Kinks for Bucky’s 100th Birthday - 100 kinky drabbles to celebrate Bucky’s 100th birthday (SMUT)

Daddy Drabbles - A series of drabbles which detail the adventures of our favourite characters as fathers

Ficmas - A series of christmas drabbles

Training With Bucky - A series of connected one shots of what’s like to train with Bucky Barnes based off these headcanons here

One shots:

Love at First Bite - You meet Baker! Bucky at your best friend’s wedding

Starved - Bucky going down on you (SMUT)

To Build a Home - Reader and Bucky are trying for a baby

4th of July - Bucky and reader watch some 4th of July fireworks

Keep reading

As tempting as it is to post #Fuck2017 and leave it at that, I realized what a cop-out that would be for me. It’s weird to think back and say: “yep, that was unquestionably the worst year of my life.”

We teach our kids: it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game. If we lose, we focus on our love of playing. We ask ourselves what we can do better next time. And if we’re really doing it right, we honor the winners—even if we lose.

For all my friends who had a great year—congrats, and all my love. I sincerely hope next year is even better.

Looking past the obvious tragedies in my own life, this year wasn’t without things to be grateful for. We made lots of new friends. We finished and released a self-produced album that I love—our 5th album to debut on the Billboard top 200. We played a lot of great shows. I had countless warm and unforgettable moments with my wife, children, and friends. In the streets and online, I watched a great upswell of fellow minorities and “outsiders”—people who demanded to be heard, whose actions I hope only build over time.

And yes, 2017 was the worst. But I play for the love of playing. Let’s go up from here. I can’t say I won’t fall down, lose, or make mistakes. My only responsibility is to get back up, work harder, and try again.

Have a fun and safe night. See you tomorrow.

#MakeChesterProud
#OneMoreLight

Made with Instagram
So, you wanna snoop in your daughter's texts?

So I’m married to a wonderful woman. She’s smart, funny and very kind.

Her mother is generally very nice and tends to have a great attitude and be very enjoyable, a bit of a prude but generally enjoyable, however can be a bit of a major snoop. If my wife leaves her phone sitting around she will just pick it up and start going through it. My wife has kind of laughed this off as a remnant of her mom being controlling when she was a kid.

I’m not a fan of this because my wife and I will sometimes text about thing that simply don’t involve her mother and I don’t feel are hee business at all.

So over Christmas my I saw my wife set her phone down on the kitchen counter and I had a brilliant idea. Her mom was still in the kitchen and I sent my wife the most sexually depraved text about all the things I was going to do to her when everyone left. (Honestly most of them are things we haven’t even done, but I had to make it extra scarring …)

I sent this text from the bathroom. And maybe it was my imagination but I could swear I could hear an audible ghasp shortly after her phone went off.

When I went out her mother absolutely would not look me in the eye. Then not-so-discreetly asked her daughter to come talk to her in the other room.

When my wife came back into the living room I thought she had been crying, however upon closer inspection she was laughing. Her mother had questioned her about me sexually abusing her and if I always talk down to her like that.

My wife had told her kindly that what we do is between us and us only. Probably the best gift this christmas.

Get your own toilet paper, Carol.

This isn’t my story, but a coworker’s.

We worked at a ritzy, membership-only shotgun club. The lowest-level membership was $2,000, so as you can imagine most of the members were very wealthy.

One member, let’s call him Bob, came in with his wife, let’s call her Carol. I knew Bob relatively well - he was a successful real estate agent and lived in a wealthier city down south.

Why is this relevant?

When my coworker walked into the woman’s bathroom, Carol was loading up her purse with toilet paper and cleaning supplies that we kept under the sink!!! When she asked Carol what she was doing, she apparently got very defensive and tried to claim she was looking for sunscreen.

Another thing to note about Bob and Carol was that they were very proud of their wealth - they were the type to brag and show off their money. So my brilliant coworker did the best thing she could have in the situation: she took “pity” on Carol. She said things like:

“If you’re having money problems you can have the toilet paper.”
“You can take whatever you want from the backroom if things are that bad!”

I only saw Carol walk out without acknowledging us and heard the story afterward. We never saw her after that.

Shattered

Nap Date, send me your thoughts on this one.
Find other parts Here!

“Shawn!” She calls out. She waits a second for him to respond but hears nothing. “Shawn!” She calls louder. 

The music on goes softer and she thinks that he’s heard her. But then nothing.

“Shawn.” She says one more time, out of patience. 

“Give me a few minutes.” He says, yelling from his studio.

“No.” She says, fed up, “I need you now.” 

She’s standing on the counter, trying to get the china down. His parents were coming over for dinner, and she wants to impress Karen. So she’s making a big meal of Pasta with a side salad and garlic bread. 

“Hold on.” He calls back. 

“Shawn.” She says, the plates she’s holding getting heavier. 

“WAIT!” He growls, startling her. He’s been distant and moody lately but he hasn’t been that aggressive. 

The plates are getting heavier, her fingers are slipping. She can’t help it, her fingers give out and she drops the stack of plates to the ground. They crash to the floor causing a huge boom and sound of shattering ceramic. She yelps as a piece bounces off the side of the counter cutting her foot. 

Shawn comes tumbling out of his studio, running towards the sound she had just made. He looks scared, eyes wide searching for her.

He wants to know what just happened, and more importantly that she’s okay.

She stand’s there, on the counter, looking at her foot that is now bleeding. 

“What the fuck?” He asks breathless.

“Thanks for the help.” She sneers at him.

“This is my fault?” He asks, confused.

“I was calling you for a fucking reason Shawn, not to just see your annoying ass face.” 

“Hey.” He says, gaze softening. A little hurt at what she just said. 

“And now all our China, fucking ruined.” She groans looking at the floor. 

He stares at her, she never curses as much as she is right now. But she has completely lost her patience with him. He is always in the fucking studio, and never is around when she needs him. He’s more at home when he’s on tour. 

“What the fuck am I going to serve our dinner on? You mom is coming for dinner, she got us the fucking China.” She wipes her face, so stressed out. 

The idea of Karen finding out that the super expensive China she had specially picked out and paid for is now a shattered mess on the floor is giving her anxiety. 

“We’ll just get some more.” He shrugs.

“She’ll know Shawn, she’ll fucking know.” She hisses at him.

“Why are you angry with me?”

“Because you’re never fucking here!” She screams at him.

“What are you talking about, I’m right here.”

“Yeah? Then why is our China a fucking shattered mess on the fucking floor? Why? Oh yeah because you were here to grab it from me when I called for you four fucking times. Or when I asked you to pick up the groceries but you ‘forgot, sorry was at the studio babe’,” She mocks him. “Making me have to leave work early so I could go get the groceries.” 

“I’m sorry.” He shrugs.

“But you’re not.” She sighs, getting even more pissed off that he doesn’t seem to care. “And then I ask you to help me make dinner because, well your mom’s coming and I wanted your help so I didn’t fuck it up myself, But it was ‘Gonna finish this song, but you got it.’ so here we are. I haven’t even started on the food, our dishes are a fucking mess on our floor and your family is gonna be here in less than twenty minutes.” 

“Y/n.” He says looking up at her, she’s still standing on the counter, foot still bleeding. 

“Can you help me down, my foot is fucking killing me.” She says, eyes fierce.

“Christ Babe, you’re bleeding.” He says finally looking down at her foot. He walks over, shoes still on, walking over the dishes on the floor. He picks her up bridal style taking her to the bathroom so she doesn’t bleed on the carpet. He starts to tend to her foot but she is still pissed.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” She hisses. 

“You’re bleeding.” He says like that fixes everything. Like is magically makes her anger go away. 

“I need you to get the fuck out of this bathroom.” She says staring up at him, he looks at her with concern in his eyes. “I need you to figure out dinner, I honestly don’t care anymore. Your mom can think I’m the biggest fuck up of a wife, that’s cool. I just need five minutes.” 

“You are not a fuck up of a wife.” He immediately says with hurt eyes.

“Well it feels like it, can you please just leave me alone.”

“No way am I leaving you alone, Babe what did you say?” 

“Shawn.” She says growing frustrated again. “We need to at least have food for your family. We don’t have time for you to sit here and try to make me feel better because that’s not gonna fucking work. If you don’t get food then at least clean up the kitchen.” 

“Y/n.” He lingers, she can tell that he’s not sure what to do. He hates when she feels bad about herself, and does whatever he can to make her feel better, but she’s telling him to leave. He just looks so lost. 

“GO Shawn!” She says pointing at the door. He takes a little bit but walks out of the bathroom. She sighs and hangs her head, really wanting to cry. 

She almost let yourself cry, she almost let a tear fall. She doesn’t cry though. She knows that if she starts crying she’ll be seen as weak and not strong enough for him. 

She tries to attempt to stop the bleeding from her foot, wrapping it with bandages. She can hear the Mendes clan walk into the house, asking about her.

She stands to go greet them but when she does she starts to feel faint. She leans against the door, taking in deep breaths, trying to get the black that’s crowding her vision to go away. 

“Y/n?” Aaliyah asks, trying to find her. She doesn’t have enough energy to call out to her. But she finds Y/n anyway. “Y/n?” She asks, more worried now. She rushes to Y/n’s side.

 “Liyah.” She choke out, her head now pounding.

“What’s wrong? Why is there blood on the floor?” 

“Liyah I don’t feel good.” She’s nauseous now. 

“Y/n?” Aaliyah asks. She can feel yourself slipping. The grip on reality starting to fade away. She starts leaning into Liyah, not being able to support herself anymore.

“Shawn!” Aaliyah calls out, as she stumbles with Y/n to the ground. She’s moving the hair out of Y/n’s face, fanning her. “SHAWN!” She screams, as Y/n closes her eyes, suddenly super tired.

“What? What’s wrong? Y/n?” He asks. He rushes to her side. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know, I walked in and she was like barely standing and then told me she wasn’t feeling good. Shawn why is there blood on the floor?”

“Jesus, we need to go to the hospital. Tell dad to start my jeep.” He says barking orders. “Baby, I’m here. I’m here now.” He says to her. She can feel him start to pick her up, holding her to his chest. He’s whispering that she’s okay, but she can’t tell if its for her or for him. 

“Shawn? What’s going on? Oh my god Y/n” She can hear Karen. She clutches Shawn’s shirt, trying to stay awake. 

“I’ve got you Baby. I’ve got you.” He says, now in the backseat of a car, stroking her hair. “Y/n? Can you look at me?” He whispers. She pries her eyes open to look into his brown ones. 

“I’m tired.” She whines.

“Just keep looking at me Baby.” He says, eyes so scared and worried. 

*

When she wakes Shawn is not by her side, Karen is. She smiles when she sees that Y/n has opened her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispers looking over at Shawn, who’s asleep on another chair in the corner of the room. 

“Let him sleep.” Y/n says softly.

“He’s been up all night watching you.” 

“I’m sorry for such the scare.”

“You’re okay, we’re glad you’re okay.” 

“I don’t even really know what happened?”

“You were bleeding out.”

“Oh.” 

“Can I talk to you for a quick second?”

“Yeah.” She nods, sitting up. Karen takes her hand.

“Honey, I am not going to think you are a fuck up of a wife. I don’t care if you serve me dinner on paper plates. I don’t care if we have take out pizza. I just want you to be happy.”

“Karen.” She sighs.

“Shawn told me how stressed out you were, and you don’t need to be.” 

“Thanks.” She smiles, squeezing her hand. 

She was about to tell Karen about the small depressed state she has been in but Shawn interrupts.

“Hey, you’re up.” Shawn says sitting up. 

“I’ll give you a second.” Karen says getting up and walking out. Shawn gets up and takes the seat next to the bed. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Good, better.” She nods. “You didn’t have to tell your mom that I was stressed out.”

“I’m sorry, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. I’ve been sort of freaking out.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was going to happen.” 

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thanks for lying.” 

“Can you talk to me about how you’re feeling?”

“I said was good.”

“Not about that, why do you think you’re a fuck up of a wife?” 

“I don’t know, you’re never home and I had just broken all of our China.”

“What do you mean I’m never home?” 

“I mean, you’re physically in the house, but you’re never with me.” 

“I’m still confused.”

“Shawn, I feel as if the music is more,”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” He cuts her off. “You are so much more important than the music. You know that.” 

“Do I?” 

“I would hope so.”

“It hasn’t seemed like it lately.”

“Wow okay, I’m sorry. It’s me being the fuck up.” 

“Shawn.” She sighs.

“No, I’ve fucked up, majorly. But not anymore. You always come first, always. I talked to Andrew, I’m on break.”

“Shawn, don’t do that.”

“It’s already taken care of.”

“No Shawn, the album is more important than my insecure feelings.”

“No it isn’t. If your feeling insecure it’s my job to help you through it. You don’t have any reason to be insecure. And you are not a fuck up of a wife. You are the best fucking wife, I can’t picture my life without you. Don’t ever think that you are not important to me, you are the most important thing in my life.”

“I love you.” She cries holding his hand.

“I love you so much.” He says, standing to kiss her on her head. “I was so fucking scared. You were so pale, and you’re eyes were not the same. The beautiful life in your eyes, it was gone. You could barely keep your eyes open, and I was so scared I was going to lose you. You were so out of it when we got here, and I couldn’t stop the thoughts in my head. I was freaking the fuck out.” 

“I’m right here.” She says taking his face into her hands.

“And I’m so happy that you are.” 

“I’m happy that you’re here.”

“But Aaliyah is really freaked out because she was the one to find you, so can I got get her?”

“Can I just be with you for a second?” She asks as he sits down.

“Yeah Baby, I’m right here.”

“I know, I just need a few minutes.” 

“I’ve got you.” He says resting his on the bed, forehead touching hers. “I’ve always got you.”