No matter what else is going on...

The way Emma and Regina look at each other will probably haunt me ‘til the end of time.

I’m going to break this down so people find it easier to follow. This was around 3:20, I’m sitting in a police van after a little incident near Berwick Street, London 

 I decided to pop into a cafe and grab something to drink when I took a glance to the side at a man smiling at me 

 I got bad vibes but didn’t think about it until he stood right behind me and started humming words like ‘so beautiful… so lovely…’  Having had drunk/cheeky men often say things like these when out at night I chose to brush it off and waited my turn 

 He then began to touch my hair. I turned around and told him to move back. Responded with nothing but a smile, stayed exactly where he was 

 I placed my order, took it, when his turn came he didn’t order nothing. The employee asked him if he was going to buy anything, and all he said was 'I love you’. I’ve never met this bloke in my life 

 I didn’t leave the cafe. Took a seat next to two women in the hopes that he would give up and just piss off. He came and sat right next to me, it was the most uncomfortable feeling

 Once the women noticed, they asked me if we were together. I said no and one of them demanded he leave, the manager was called out and she threatened to phone the police if he didn’t. 

 'I won’t go until she goes’. 

 This was happening all while he was merely inches away from me. Even after the police were called he chose to stay. I was invited to sit closer to the women and as we made idle chat we could hear his breathing get heavy. I was on edge the entire time fearing he would get aggressive and attack someone. This went on for about forty minutes, he finally got up but before leaving, told us he’d follow me 

 One of the women ran out to see where he was going, he was wandering around the market the whole time we were inside and was gone when a siren was heard

 I had to be escorted back to the station by two policemen. Apparently this is not the first time such a case is reported, it’s very common there but very rarely during the day when it’s safer. If you’re by yourself or planning to visit London stay away from the Soho area entirely. Full of drug dealers and hidden sex shops down alleyways that have had past cases of traffickers, one of the police escorts told me. It’s fucking disgusting.

“That’s not even a real insult.”

A young female's challenge
  • **me and my friends trying to use the hallway toilet because of our fucking periods**
  • Stupid male science teacher: You can't use this toilet at break times!
  • **friends angrily turn around in defeat**
  • Me: Uh, sir? are you aware of the menstrual cycle?
  • Teacher: Yes, i'm currently teaching it to my year 8s.
  • Me: so you're aware of the bloody mess and the insufferable pain that is currently occurring?
  • Teacher: ...
  • Me: and the fact that we females need a toilet immediately ?
  • Teacher: ...
  • Teacher: alright, be quick.
need you // isaac lahey

request: darkpeterpanouat said: hi! i was wondering if you could do an isaac lahey imagine where you get hurt really bad an he freaks out and when you’re asleep he admits that he loves you and everything about you. then when you wake up, he kisses you and you heard what he said. sorry if that’s really long

notes: sorry it took so long!!! i had writer’s block. also, i’m sorry if it’s bad ok i didn’t have time to proof read

warnings: mentions of blood, death and loss

Throughout your life, you thought you had a pretty good idea what pain was. You’d had burns, scrapes, bruises. You’d had bloody injuries, and not so bloody injuries. Through it all, you thought that was pain. It was a part of life, you knew what it felt like.

But right now, in this very moment, you were quickly becoming horribly aware of what real pain felt like. And all those cuts and bruises from when you were little seemed to pale in comparison. They were nothing compared to what you were feeling right then.

Your body was sprawled on the cold ground, and pain was blossoming through you, holding you paralyzed against the concrete. Things were happening around you, a fight. A battle. The pack was going up against Theo, against his chimera pack.

Despite your best friend Isaac’s pleas for you not to tag along with them, you’d come anyway. And now Isaac had been proved right, You were hurt, just like he said you’d be. And now you were sure you were going to die.

“Goddammit!” you heard someone shout, “don’t do this! You’re not going to die on me, stay awake!”

You recognized the voice as Isaac’s. You wanted to cry out, to tell him that even though you were in soul crushing pain, you were still holding on, that you were trying to keep your eyes open. Amidst the noise and commotion around you, you felt Isaac lift you into his arms, and then he was running out into the night, whispering to you, begging you to hold on.

You were placed in an unfamiliar car, and Isaac hurriedly climbed into the front seat, immediately throwing the car into drive and presumably going off in the direction of the hospital.

“Just try to stay awake,” he pleaded, “don’t close your eyes, I’m taking you to the hospital, you’re gonna be okay.”

His voice was wavering, and through your blurred vision you could see that he was on the verge of tears. You focused on taking deep breaths, trying to dismiss the pain, but failing. It was surging through you, crippling you.

Suddenly, the car stopped, and Isaac got out, rushing around to open your door. He took you into his arms and then he was running again, bursting through the doors of the hospital.

“I need help! She’s bleeding everywhere!” Isaac’s voice came out in a desperate shout. You were then being lifted from his arms and placed on a soft surface; a bed. The bed was wheeled down the hall, and Isaac was with you, holding your hand. You could feel him trembling within your touch. He was terrified.

But all at once, he was gone. Then everything was dark.


Your eyes fluttered open, squinting at the bright light that flooded your vision. You were disoriented, confused as to where you were. You tried sitting up, but you were instantly stopped by a sharp ache in your side.

“Hey, hey, don’t move, you’re in the hospital,” Isaac’s voice chimed from beside you.

You blinked, turning to look at him. “I-Isaac?”

He leaned forward in his seat. “I’m right here.”

“W-was I unconscious for long?” you whispered, your voice slightly hoarse.

Isaac shook his head. “No. You had…a gash on your side, a really deep one. They had to make sure you didn’t have any internal injuries, and they stitched you up.”


For a moment, the two of you sat in awkward silence, with you staring at your hands and Isaac restlessly tapping his foot on the waxed floor. After a while, he was the first one to speak.

“I thought you were going to die,” he admitted, shyly meeting your gaze.

“Well…I didn’t. I’m right here, all in one piece.”

“You don’t understand. There was a moment when I thought you were dead. When you were laying on the ground and there was blood everywhere, I-I thought that you were gone.”

You shook your head, smiling softly. “Look, I’m not dead. I’m sitting right here, talking to you.”

He sighed, letting his eyes flutter shut. “You don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? I could’ve died, yes. But I didn’t. I am perfectly fine,” you gently spoke, but Isaac only shook his head.

“No, listen, you don’t know what it was like. I really thought you were dead and I was so fucking terrified. You’re my best friend, I can’t lose you because you’re all I’ve got, besides Scott.”

“Isaac, I know you thought I was dead, but–” before you could finish your sentence, the door to your recovery room swung open, and in walked Melissa McCall.

“Well,” she spoke, looking to you, “you are one lucky young lady. Isaac got you here just in time. Any later and I’m not sure if you’d be alive right now.”

“Well I’m grateful to him.”

“You should be. You’ve got a special friend in him,” she replied, “but I’m sad to say that visiting hours are over.” She directed the last part of the sentence at Isaac, and he sighed.

“Can…can you just bend the rules a little bit, just this once?” He curiously asked.

Melissa only shook her head. “She’ll be here tomorrow.”

“But what if she’s not?”

Scott’s mom looked at the boy in confusion. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Well what if something happens and she dies?” He spoke, genuinely concerned.

Melissa only smiled gently. “Isaac, that won’t happen. Go home, get some rest.”

“Can I just…stay a little longer? Please?”

The dark haired woman stood there for a moment, contemplating Isaac’s request. Then she sighed. “Fine. But just for a little while, got it?”

Isaac nodded quickly, and then Melissa was gone, leaving the two of you alone. You looked up at Isaac questioningly. “Stop looking at me like I’m made of glass and will break at any moment. I’m fine.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Well, try to help it. I already feel like I’ve been run over several times by a car. I don’t need you looking at me with pity,” you grumbled.

“I’m not trying to pity you. It’s just that you’re my friend and I care about your well being,” he responded.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But maybe you should listen to Melissa and leave, go home and get some rest. You sure look like you could use some. Or maybe you should go see if Scott needs any help.”

“Scott can handle things, he doesn’t need me. Besides, Melissa said I could stay for a bit, so that’s just what I’m going to do. Can’t you just accept the fact that someone cares about you and wants to make sure you’re okay?”

“Scott does need you. And no, I can’t accept it. Just like the way you can’t accept the fact that I’m okay and that you can go home now.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, look. I’ll just stay for a little bit, and once you’re asleep, I’ll leave. How does that sound?” He suggested.

You puffed a loose strand of hair out of your face. “Fine.”

He gave a simple nod, and then stood from his chair, walking to your bedside table and grabbing the television remote that rested there. He turned on the tv, and began flipping through the channels. “We can watch something before you fall asleep.”

“Then I’ll get interested in whatever we’re watching and not want to fall asleep,” you argued.

“Just work with me on this, okay? What do you want to watch?”

“I really don’t care. Change the channel to whatever you want,” you told him.

He shrugged, and took a seat back in the obviously uncomfortable hospital chair. He absently began flipping through the channels, though he didn’t seem all that focused on watching television. “Isaac,” you began, “why are you making such a big deal about this? I know that it was probably freaky thinking I was dead, but I’m alright now, it’s no big deal.”

He slumped against the chair. “I told you, because you’re my friend and I care about you.”

“Well that doesn’t-”

“Stop, just stop. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can’t we just sit in silence for a while?”

You finally complied, letting out a huff and folding your arms against your chest, although the sudden movement made pain come to life in your side. You hissed at the feeling, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Isaac lurch forward, ready to help you in any way. But you only held your hand up to stop him, letting him know you didn’t need his help.

After a while, the two of you settled into an uncomfortable silence, watching some late night show on the hospital’s television. Finally, you decided to close your eyes, hoping that Isaac would think you were asleep and go home. After all, he was probably completely exhausted, and was desperately in need of a good night’s sleep.

But after a while, it became evident that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, despite the fact that you were laying peacefully with your eyes shut. A few moments passed, and suddenly, you could hear Isaac whispering your name, checking to see if you were still awake. But you didn’t move, in hopes of him giving up and leaving.

But to your surprise, he didn’t leave. Instead, he began speaking softly, leaning closely to your resting form. “I-I don’t really know how to say this…where to start. And I guess I should probably be telling you this when you’re awake but I’ve just never had the courage and I’m sure you don’t feel the same way,” the boy began, and you were then very alert, listening closely while still maintaining a sleeping form.

“The truth is…the reason I was so upset is because, well, I care about you so much, you’re the greatest thing in my life right now and if you were ever taken away from me…I don’t know what I’d do. I need you, I can’t live without you. I love everything about you.” He paused for a moment, taking a deep, wavering breath before continuing.

“I love how brave you are. I love how smart you are, you’re smarter than me, you’re the smartest girl I know. You care so much about others, you’re selfless. You’re so strong, and you’re my strength. You’re my anchor, when I met you I never realized how special you would be to me, how much you would change my life. And when I thought I’d lost you…it terrified me. I had to do everything I could to save you.”

By now, he sounded as if he was on the verge of tears, and he was silent for a while before he spoke yet again, his voice gentle. “The truth is, I love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I just hope that one day you’ll love me too.”

You lay there for several moments, processing the words he’d just spoken. You’d never known he’d felt that way, and now the way he’d acted made so much sense. You felt like crying, because truthfully, you felt the same way about him.

You let your eyes flutter open, and you turned to look at the beautiful boy next to you. His eyes went wide, and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “D-did you…hear all of that?” He cautiously asked. You gave him a nod, and he groaned.

“No, no. It’s okay. I never knew you felt that way, Isaac,” you whispered.

“I didn’t know I felt that way until I was sure I’d lost you,” he admitted.

You reached over to grasp his hand. “Don’t worry, because I feel the same way too. I love you.”

“Y-you love me too?”


He sighed in relief, and you reached up with your free hand, touching it to his cheek. He calmly leaned forward, and your lips met. The kiss was sweet and delicate, and it expressed every bit of how both of you felt towards one another.

Isaac was the first to pull away, pressing his forehead to yours. “I guess maybe almost losing you was sort of a good thing,” he stated, “it made me realize how I felt about you.”

“I guess it was a good thing. But you don’t have to worry, Isaac. You’re not gonna ‘almost’ lose me ever again. I’m not going anywhere.”

I laid with him tonight, just looking at his face. Studying all of the little scars along his cheeks. I remembered back to when he told me to look at the ‘little glimmering cuts on his knuckles.’ “These are all teeth.” he added. Then I had wondered if as many fists had hit his face. It hurt me to know that he’d ever been filled with so much anger and pain that his release was bloody knuckles and bruised eyes. “We all have our battle scars.” He then mentioned as he noticed the worry flood my face.

Now, I know that I can’t just go back and take that pain from him. I also know that without his battle scars, he wouldn’t be who he is. But I can promise him that from here, he’s no longer a one man army.

—  fna

Ke$ha - The Harold Song

If “Animal” is a manifesto in a grand and almost obvious sense, a thesis statement for Kesha’s early work, then “The Harold Song” is almost the opposite. By opposite I mean that they’re desperately intertwined, that “The Harold Song” is just as sweeping and grandiose as “Animal” but also so pointed, with so much more bloody specificity, the raw pain of it taking on texture and name. “Animal” acknowledges the indispensability of tragedy and death and fear at the core of Kesha’s glittering party-world, but “The Harold Song” is that tragedy. “Animal” knows that the world is full of blood but “The Harold Song” is bleeding right in front of us.

One of the things I Iove about pop music is its tendency toward the broad and vague; common, easy words that are simple to apply to the self do not lose specific value just because their reach is broad. You’re still the one listening.

But “The Harold Song” is slightly different; it dwells in detail, it concerns itself with specificity. Maybe you identify with it but it is still about Kesha in an inescapable way, and in the process it encompasses, even within its own raw loss, an idea that lies at the core of Kesha’s discography:

we promised that this would last forever

but now I see

it was my past life

a beautiful time

Infinity can exist within finite experience. Everything ends but over and gone are different things and death is a malleable word. Glitter is a sharped-edged thing and every monumental pop vagueness draws or at least pulls roots from wounds with specific, awful contours. This song is a wound. This song has a name.

Holy Fucking Shit.

It has a name.

This thing I’ve been doing to myself for years and year and years.

It has a name.


I don’t think you understand how weight has just gotten lifted off of my shoulders.

I’ve been freaked out for years, wondering WHY I would sit and chew on the inside of my cheek without being able to stop. Why is it that when I got nervous, or scared, or anxious - would I do that? I would do it for hours, especially at night when I was thinking about everything. I would look at the clock which read 2AM with a bloody mouth. I would sit through so many painful dinners, the food burning my cheeks. Brushing my teeth was hell - it burned so badly.

I couldn’t stop.

I felt like no one really would understand.


It has a name.

And it can be treated.

I think I might cry from how happy I feel right now.

I’m not alone.

Noticeable Absence

After they’re gone, loved ones have a way of remaining with you, like the thick silence that settles after an unwelcome question. Even what should be happy, relieved thoughts become heavy and fraught.

She always hated when I sang. I always took it as an editorial comment, but I sang anyway – and prepared for the onslaught. Today, as I was doing dishes, I started singing along with the song playing in my headphones. About 30 seconds into the song I stopped and looked around. That was usually about how long it took Sadie to appear out of nowhere and start attacking my ankles and shins with claws sharp enough to scratch diamonds.

She wasn’t there, because of course she wasn’t. I thought briefly about turning the music up and singing loudly, since I was free to do so without fearing the painful, annoying, and often bloody consequences. Instead I stopped the song, pulled the headphones off my ears, and continued washing the dishes in silence.

© 2014 by Jennifer R.R. Mueller

I think what pisses me off most is that Juice didn’t do half the shit Gemma or Jax did but he died because of them. Jax wants forgiveness but he never gave anyone else forgiveness so I hope he dies bloody and painful because that’s all he fucking deserves. PS Do not argue this shit with me because yes Juice was in the wrong but not as much as some of the others on this shit of a show.