#I understand the sadness people feel over things not going the way they want and I feel it too

[lilies-n-slander]

just my unstructured thoughts on “complicated and sad”

I’m not huge on radiostatic and haven’t thought about the dynamic as much as other people so probably I’ll be retreading common ground

radiostatic friendship had to have broken up for smth more ideological, it would honestly be a bit boring/disappointing if it was just over the unrequited romance aspect (but it was likely a contributing factor)

the fact that vox asked alastor to join his team gives a few clues

I think atp vox still thought positively of alastor while alastor’s opinion of vox was starting to deteriorate. Vox respected alastor enough to *ask* him to join, rather than manipulate or try to force him

if that’s the case, then whatever vox did that alastor hated likely wasn’t malicious (but knowing vox, it was still a bad/harmful thing)

it seems like the kind of situation where alastor showed discomfort and vox refused to change and didn’t understand what he was so mad about

what could vox have done that alastor disliked so much that it ruined a previously good friendship?

using people? Alastor does that

owning souls? Alastor does that

killing people? Alastor does that

associating with and enabling ppl like val? Maybe? It seems like an arbitrary line to draw, altho one of the comics shows alastor killing an attempted rapist

influencing people’s perception of them through media? Alastor does that, but maybe it was the difference of method that he didn’t like (hypnosis vs charisma)

being fake? Alastor does that but is better at it than vox (smiling to hide weakness)

being weak*? (*not just physically) Now we’re talking. Alastor hates weakness, both in other people and himself. He hates when people let their composure slip and tries to exploit any weakness he sees. Maybe it disgusted him to see someone he thought was strong actually prove to be weak, insecure, and pathetic

a combination of the last three seems the most plausible to me (especially considering what things alastor disses vox for in stayed gone), but I’m still struggling to come up with something that has the right amount of “oomph” to it

I’m curious what alastor initially liked about vox in the first place?

did he only like him bc he thought vox was stronger than he actually was?

has vox just changed so much over the years that the vox alastor formed a friendship with was basically a different person? That would make me curious about what sparked that change in vox—was it a particular incident or gradual corruption?

does alastor hate modernity because of vox or does he hate vox because of his modernity?

leaning twds the former, the way alastor speaks abt tech has a personal tinge to it

most of vox’s hostility twds alastor is prob due to what alastor did as rejection

supported by vox not having much variety of his insults in stayed gone

yes he’s pathetic and might be salty that he doesn’t return his feelings, but I feel like that’s not the whole explanation

does “I thought he was gone *for good* too” imply that alastor has previously disappeared or been shooed away by the vees and came back soon after?

“he owes us a lot more than money” + “things have changed a lot since he left town… …I gotta send a message of who’s really in charge of things now” = before he disappeared, alastor was previously in control, possibly by sabotaging the vees and overthrowing them?

I didn’t rlly mention “still pissed he almost beat you that time?” bc that had to have been after the fallout, so not as much to dig into there (this isn’t to say that I don’t desperately want a flashback of it lol)

hmmmmmmmnfgh… so many questions

I really hope their backstory has already been mostly planned out, bc it seems like something that would go poorly if you just made it up on the fly

#hazbin hotel #vox #alastor #onewaybroadcast #.txt #meta

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered.��

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl writing #hockey blurb #hockey writing #boston bruins #jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman blurb #jeremy swayman writing #jeremy swayman fic #jeremy swayman fanfiction #jeremy swayman x ofc #jeremy swayman x oc #jeremy swayman x reader

[xoxomireya]

ꪆ🍦ৎ﹐boundary setting﹑⎘﹒

I. GET TO KNOW YOURSELF.

Look for the root of the problem. Maybe you’re stuck being a people pleaser, or maybe you don’t even know what your boundaries are.

If you identify with the first one, ask yourself why are you a people pleaser. Independently of the situation that might be making you act like this, internalize the thought that bending backwards for the sake of other people and completely disregarding your needs and values will destroy your sense of self-love and self-respect and make people lose respect for you, making you miserable. Surround yourself with communicative people and stop trying to guess everyone’s needs, it’s their job to communicate them to you. Do things you’ve always wanted to do in order to practice focusing on yourself and having your space all to yourself instead of giving it away that easily.

If you identify with the second one, you might need some time alone to reconnect with yourself. The way you find out who you are and what you want is to spend time with yourself, because you naturally gravitate towards what feels good to you. At the end of the day, you’re going to be stuck with yourself for the rest of your life, so turn this into something positive. Start meditating, journaling and look for question prompts to get to know yourself better. Once you know who you are and what you want, setting boundaries is going to be a piece of cake.

What boundaries should we set?

Even if there are some non-negotiables, everyone has their own boundaries. Set boundaries that make you feel respected, comfortable and authentic. Tune into your emotions and thoughts and stay true to yourself.

II. SETTING BOUNDARIES.

Now, this is the hard part. Once you know what you’re boundaries are, approach the situation by what you consider the best approach: assertively, politely… But without diminishing what’s bothering you. State the problem calmly and how it affects and bothers you.

Don’t make this whole situation into a bigger deal than it is, be chill about it and don’t act emotional or upset. Remember that you don’t have to apologize or explain yourself too much, you also have a right to say no and you don’t need an excuse not to do something that you’re uncomfortable with doing.

What do you do if someone tries crossing them?

If you’ve told someone about your boundaries and they still try crossing them on purpose, they’re out. Letting someone disrespect you is an act of self-deprecation, and if they do something once, they will most definitely do it again. Don’t be upset over it and tell them calmly that if your boundaries make them uncomfortable enough to not respect them, it’s better to part ways. Let them go.

III. BOUNDARIES WITH OURSELVES

It’s even harder to set boundaries with ourselves than it is to set them with other people. We’re always making excuses for our acts of self-deprecation. We even keep making depreciative acts against ourselves subconsciously, making it even harder to change it and set boundaries.

Here are some examples of acts of self-love and setting boundaries with ourselves:

Limit the time spent on social media and stop consuming content that makes you sad.

Learn your triggers and develop healthy coping mechanisms.

Communicating with other when you feel uncomfortable, hurt or upset.

IV. TYPES OF BOUNDARIES.

Physical Boundaries: These refer to personal space and physical touch. They include awareness of what’s appropriate, and what’s not, in different settings and types of relationships. They also include preferences for respect, privacy, closeness and touch.

Sexual Boundaries: These are related to consent and include the emotional, intellectual and physical aspects of sexuality. Healthy sexual boundaries involve mutual sexual understanding and respect of limitations and desires between sexual partners.

Emotional Boundaries: These refer to how your own and other’s emotional needs are handled. They are all about respecting and honoring feelings and energy. Setting emotional boundaries means recognizing how much emotional energy you are capable of taking in, knowing when to share and when not to share, and limiting emotional sharing with people who respond poorly.

Spiritual Boundaries: They relate to your deepest values, sense of meaning, and inner truth guiding your life journey. They anchor you when outer forces challenge your identity or purpose.

Financial Boundaries: These boundaries are designed to protect your financial well-being, maintain healthy relationships, and ensure you are not taken advantage of financially. Financial boundaries can cover a wide range of areas, including lending money, sharing expenses, giving financial advice, and discussing personal financial details.

Time Boundaries: Time boundaries are the limits you set on how much time you spend on different tasks, activities, and relationships. They help you prioritize your goals, protect your energy, and avoid burnout.

How do these boundaries benefit you?

Boundaries should help you establish and maintain healthy relationships with others and yourself by helping us build trust, safety and respect. They also prevent burnout and resentment, and protect our mental health and wellbeing

#it girl #self care #self love #self improvement #that girl #self healing #boundaries #best version of yourself #boundary setting #boundary break #self worth #self development #healing

[nadvs]

okay i’m on my period and ive been listening to fourth of july by sufjan stevens on REPEATTT😭 it’s inspired a fic idea that i think u would absolutely nail !!!!

sad ofc but rafe’s ex (moved out of the obx) gets news that he’s passed away. it’s centred around her going home, going thru the motions of how jarring it is that someone as big and powerful and stoic as rafe is just….gone. not there anymore. the lyrics of the song are great inspo ofc, but yeah just a huge ball of heartache and emotional despair!

if u wanted to lighten things up a pt2 could be like rafe faked his death vibes, angst and reunion and love and ahhhh!

၊၊||၊၊||၊၊ fourth of july / sufjan stevens

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

content warning death, drug abuse

When you saw the post on social media, you thought it was a sick joke.

But then you read the comments, full of canned condolences and useless prayers, and your refusal to accept the news crumbled with every typed word until you couldn’t possibly deny it any longer.

Someone commented asking how. Someone else replied overdose.

Sorrow and loss and shock and nausea swirled through you. You paced around your bedroom, chest heaving, glancing at the door as if someone was coming to pull you out of the nightmare.

Eventually, you found the strength to text Sarah. You still had her number even though you broke things off with Rafe three months ago.

She gave you the details for the funeral that Saturday.

It’s a hot, sunny afternoon when you make it to Kildare Island. It’s wrong that the world is still spinning, boasting beautiful weather on a gruesome day.

You think bitterly about how people are surely enjoying the sun today, all while the man you still love is being buried.

When Sarah sees you at the church, she gives you a mournful, forced smile. You hug her, your eyes swollen and red and aching, your throat burning as you tell her I’m sorry and are you okay?

You’re not sure if Rafe told her about why you broke up.

— and i’m sorry i left, but it was for the best though it never felt right

He hated that you wanted to move to another state for a job opportunity. He didn’t understand why you didn’t want to stay, why he couldn’t just take care of you.

You told him this was for the best and he’d find a girl who’d make him happy. He told you that was bullshit.

You doubt Sarah knows. He never spoke much to his sister unless he was fighting with her, so she likely has no idea why you ended an otherwise happy relationship.

There’s a large photo of him sitting on an easel at the front. You’re surprised they found a picture of him smiling.

It’s grainy and clearly zoomed in, likely from a group photo. He always had a great smile. He hardly showed it.

The lights hit the photographed blue of his eyes dully. Nothing like how he looked when he was alive. Even beneath the anger and bitterness Rafe carried around, he had a brightness in his eyes reserved solely for you.

You watched it fade the day you left him.

— make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light

When you see the coffin resting above the plot in the cemetery, you think you might be sick.

You knew Rafe liked coke. You feel naive now that you didn’t realize it was a problem. He just did it at parties when you were dating. At least, you thought he did.

Maybe you could have prevented this.

You remember the way his arm was wrapped around your waist at one of the last beach house parties you attended together. It was when you were still considering the job offer, knowing deep down you were going to take it.

He smelled like cologne and sweat and Rafe, his cheek against yours as he spoke over the loud music.

“You can’t move,” he said, chuckling and high out of his mind. “Look how much fun we’re having, baby.”

“I’d have more fun if we left,” you told him. He scoffed. But then he led you out of the party, down to the beach, hugging you from behind, kissing your neck as you sat in the sand.

“How’s this?” Rafe murmured. He earned laughs from you, his lips on your neck. “Fun?”

“Yeah,” you replied sincerely.

But you still left.

You can hardly listen to the sermon, but one part reverberates through you like it’s being screamed into your ears. We don’t face this life or death without promises.

There was a time when you and Rafe lived in a promise together. But now you just live, and he doesn’t.

Sarah finds you as you’re opening your car door to leave. She tells you it would feel wrong not to show you. They went through his phone. There are messages he sent to you that remain undelivered.

You blocked him after the break-up. You thought it was the right thing to do, but deep down, it felt more wrong than anything.

Your hand trembles as you hold the phone up to your face. It’s jarring, touching something that big, strong, abrasive, loud Rafe owned and used every day, and now he’s buried yards away from you, nothing but coldness and weakness and stillness. He owns nothing now.

Sharp spikes dig into your heart when you see that he sent you a string of texts the night he died.

i can’t stop thinking about you

i love you and i can make you love me again

come back

or i’ll come to you

please try one more time with me

“Thanks,” you tell Sarah, handing back the phone, when in reality, no part of you feels grateful upon seeing words he tried to say to you but couldn’t. You would have been better off not knowing.

You leave a part of yourself in that cemetery. It died with him. Because Rafe always said you were the only one who loved him and he left this earth thinking you didn’t anymore.

#this prompt is so good #and that song is gutwrenching oof #prepare for nothing but heartache below the cut #blurb #ask #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

[sylvies-kablooie]

”what if sylki isn’t endgame” rest assured i will not go anywhere. i will blog regardless. i Will continue to make playlists and write analysis and maybe even fanfiction. canon has no effect on me. you cannot get rid of me that easily. if only it were that easy.

#as always you can ship whatever on this blog but u know where I stand on this matter #i was in the clintasha trenches in 2016 you literally cannot defeat me #as if something as simple as canon could flick off the switch of what my brain needs to think about!!! #I understand the sadness people feel over things not going the way they want and I feel it too #You just personally cannot get me to stop analyzing every inch of subtext #If i had ae i would make edits. You want edits? Find me ae!! And you can have them. #loki #loki series #loki tv show #Sylki #pro sylki #loki x sylvie #sylkie

[hecksupremechips]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

#its like okay listen i understand the basic math of any persona game they say things and everything they say is actually #very bad when you think about it for more than 3 seconds #like what theyre intending to do with the death of this character is be like oh no your sad friend dies tragically thats so saddddd #but that doesnt mean you cant live a wonderful life full of meaning you cant let grief consume you life is beautiful awagga #and i guess shinji is a specific character whos used cuz i guess its more tragic that he never realized he was worthy of life and shit #and i guess its also like ‘dont be like this guy who let grief consume him and then died you gotta Be Different’ #which i dont. love. that last part cuz if you think about shinji and what led him down this road #its like. of course hes depressed! he accidentally killed a woman with a child when he was 16! #he himself is an orphan and he just made some other kid an orphan as well and it happened cuz his persona went out of control #which very much can translate to ‘this must mean im dangerous and can hurt everyone if im not kept under control’ #so of course he isolated himself and believed he was evil and became suicidal like who wouldnt feel that way #like am i supposed to be mad he left sees and took drugs cuz uh while i dont think isolation or Evil Drug is good for his mental health #i dont think him continuing to fight in sees is something he can just easily do again given how he killed someone like he shouldnt have to #be a part of this thing anymore like how would he even safely get castor to not do that??? he cant kill more people on accident! #so yeah like using shinji as an example of bad coping mechanisms is already just. a big fucking oof to me like it just feels like the game #is saying he shouldve gotten over it and simply not be suicidal and stayed on the team. idk if thats the intent but uh it wouldnt faze me #cuz persona games are notoriously awful at writing characters who are traumatized and abused #but what makes everything even worse is how the game kinda like. acts like shinjis death is a stepping stone #like we’re supposed to use it as a wake up call and understand the stakes but keep going on anyways #and akihiko and Ken get. ‘great character development’ according to the game telling you they have now developed #but damn all akihiko is is just repressed he cries for 3 seconds and then is like I SHOULD MAN UP and then neglects a depressed child #shinjis dying words are words to live by now even though they piss me the fuck off like girl am i crazy HES FUCKING #HES TELLING ME NOT TO CRY OVER HIM BECAUSE HE SHOULD BE DEAD ACTUALLY AND THIS IS A GOOD THING ACTUALLY #like if the game wants us to still find meaning in life despite losing someone it just really hurts that shinji has to die for that to work #apparently. cuz the character i see myself in is shinji. not some perfect prettyboy who does everything perfectly and has 4 gfs #his death seems like a punishment for bad behavior. the bad behavior being of course depression and drug use. and im simply supposed to be #better than that if i want to live. and we dont get to form a connection with him cuz thats gayyyyy #and his death is like a NOBLE HEROIC SACRIFICE idk its just such bullshit to me i hate it so bad #how is killing a suicidal guy and then treating it as admirable that he said ‘this is how it should be’ supposed to make me feel #makes me feel sick personally and it ruins the entire game’s theme to me because its fucking shallow and the story is bad and im tired

[dogboots]

blog that makes me happy vs nobody will ever take me seriously here as long as I post the way I do

#mousetalk #im aware that a lot of my biggest interests are for children. thats why this main blog looks like a seven year old designed everything #im also aware of how silly i tend to look to anybody who isnt myself. 'adult who likes things for children“ isnt really something you Want #to be known as because this makes you look stupid to folks who do not have or understand the childish stuff #which is pretty understandable. i do look silly taking cartoon dogs seriously and being converned over toy rabbits feelings and whatnot #im not so oblivous as to pretend that i dont lol #i just wish i could enjoy these things and still be taken seriously! im not angry at people for deciding they wont or deciding they dont #like me or deciding im some sort of strange freak who will never grow up. its valid when you consider the everything else about me. #just wish it didnt have to mean that any and all footholds i have in adult spaces werent null and void you know #itd be nice if the two things could coexist. #im really only rambling in the tags like this because having this childish blog as my main ends with me being blocked a Lot #which again! im not mad about! people can choose to interact with who they like and form whatever opinions they want #im just a little sad is all. i have plenty of (mature even!) interests outside of things like stickers or stuffed animals but i cant really #interact with these things here without somebody inevitably looking my way and going oh. another immature person. goodbye #or just assuming that im a child trying to wiggle my way into adult spaces by claiming i am one. according to 1 ask i recieved a while back #i dont know. this really isnt much of a complaint is it. 'people dont take my stuffed animals seriously' is about as stupid of a problem as #it gets haha #maybe someday ill suck it up and rebrand and stop talking about baby animals on my main blog #so i could finally follow a blog for something like a horror game franchise without being blocked on sight #or greeted reluctantly and with an eyeroll haha #TLDR; if this blog stops being happy funtimes it is nobodys fault but my own for being spineless about my own interests lol #i doubt anybody is reading this wall of text (hello if you are) but dont take anything i said in here personally #enjoy what you want to enjoy. dont let me or anybody else dictate that when your life on earth is so short #this is more just me with my own trivial issues that dont matter in the grand scheme of things #okay goodnight everybody thats it for the time being

[keeps-ache]

woke up with the feeling that 'something has been irreversibly changed'

#just me hi #which doesn't make any sense because i didn't really do anything yesterday lol #but then i got hit with that very accepting 'so this must be' feeling so i have No idea what's going on with my internals hfvsfhaj #though i Have been feeling odd‚ maybe it's turned over #i dunno! feelings are like magic is so many ways #/maybe that's why people like to tie it to Actual magic. something physical #because it's a way to see it‚ to understand it‚ to prove to other people it's there #but real magic is very hard to understand and sometimes even to imitate and sometimes people don't like to see it at all #which is sad because it's so pretty‚ and when you feel it in like your actual Body it's wonderful #but it showed how Physically strong you were then you aren't being awful in some way. then you're Scary and Powerful #but that's just awful too. they don't realize it until someone awful does it but they forget everyone else is like that too #i'm having Just Woke Up thoughts bfhvsbhfv #i want to like. just Be but things are kinda complicated you know? #like magic.. #lol! #//anyway #gotta finish this comic for REAL #truly really seriously !! #i'm almost done with the inks and i KNOW i can do it today i can do it i can do it !! #couldn't yesterday (idk why lol) but i Can today so i will :D #do i shall see you again soon! tooooodles

[the-casbah-way]

i'm not doing anything !!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm not fucking doing anything !!!!!!!!!!!!!! i just sit and rot and worry and yearn whilst other people are out there living and feeling and breathing and experiencing and still i just do nothing !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#'you're young there's still time' you do not understand #i don't do things because i'm unwell. chronically. it won't ever go away !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #that doesn't mean it can't get better i'm sure it will one day #but it will never be what i want it to be #i get so overwhelmed by all the things i'm not doing #i need to stop watching videos and films about people living the lives i want #been procrastinating my hrt shit for ages now even though all i have to do is send two emails and ask my friend for one link #i'm putting off the new tattoos and piercings i want because i always do that and then i get sad that i don't have them yet #i'm putting off my assignments for a degree that i actually enjoy and want to do well in and i do not know why #i'm just WAITING. what am i WAITING FOR. the change is INSIDE OF ME. why am i waiting #i guess i am holding onto safety and predictability because it's the only thing i have control over #i bounce between that and the image of a future me that is completely unattainable #and i tell myself there is no possible middle ground so i just give up #i can't be all the things i want to be. i will never been seen the way i want to be #but that doesn't mean i have to stay stuck like this forever wasting my life feeling miserable about everything #but i still choose to keep doing it every day anyway because i don't know how to stop #is it too much to ask to be a beautiful man who is not technically a man but is perceived as one and gets silly about it #is it too much to ask to be nice and well and attractive and successful #i don't want to be normal. i don't want to be cis. but i would like to be myself in a way that feels right #but i am not brave enough to start doing anything about it

[victory-cookies]

the only irl friend I have that I feel comfortable actually talking about the things I enjoy with just insulted me for gushing about smth to her over snap last night and now I want to cry

#this is going in the tags bc it’s stupid but it’s making me sad so #the only irl friend I have that I actually felt comfortable sharing my interests with just made fun of me #for gushing to her about smth over snap last night #and I’m at work rn so I can’t even cry bc in a few minutes I’m back out on the floor #but just like. I think I have rsd (especially around my interests and then my intelligence but that’s not pertinent here) #so I’ve never really been super open about what things interest me bc when I get made fun of for it or those things get insulted #It really hurts #the only people I’ve really felt comfortable opening up to are like. Sid obv and then this one friend of mine #bc the two of us found out we shared some interests and started like. telling each other about other things we like #I’d tell her about my silly little tv shows and podcasts and she’d tell me about the movies and books she was into #and I’ve explained to her before how I’ve never really been comfortable enough to talk about that shit and how I appreciated her being kind #and not insulting me like other people have in the past #but today I’m sitting on break and watching the replies she sent me and one of them is just a clip in response to my video from last night #where she just goes ‘girl I literally don’t care’ (and this was not in a joking way like that was her response #and it was in a tone that implied ‘so shut up about it’) #and like I get it! I am often not interested in the things that people tell me about! but I try to be earnest and engaged #and I can understand loving smth and wanting to share it with others! and how it sucks when people are then mean about it! #like when she tells me about a teen drama romance book or sends me instagram reels of cake decorating I try to respond with enthusiasm! #bc while the content may not interest me I like hearing about the things she enjoys and I’m glad she feels open to telling me about stuff! #but now I don’t want to share shit with her anymore bc this has given me a huge spike in anxiety and I feel like shit #idk. it’s stupid but it sucks #vent #ig

[evansbby]

more vent, continuing from the last 2 posts

#it’s just hard going from the highest of highs and then to the lowest of lows #and this whole year so far has been low low low #like I can’t even share or talk about it bc I feel so pathetic and sad about it #but it sucks going from feeling the best I’ve ever felt last year… to 2023 just being so awful #and it’s all my own fault #and any strides I’d made I’m actively erasing and idk how to get out of this mindset #idk how to be happy again #I’m just always feeling so sad #and I feel like I’m projecting this sadness and frustration onto other people #and that’s where the lashing out and accusations come in #but how do I get out of it #and how do I stop worrying bc at this point I think I’m wired this way #but how has it gotten so bad #i work myself up so much over NOTHING #to the point where I’m crying and screaming and hyperventilating #and it’s over the smallest most insignificant thing #but I only understand that later in hindsight #I’m not trying to achieve anything by typing all this out #i just wanted to get it written down #and I usually write this sort of stuff in my journal bc I keep this side of myself so private #but (and this is actually funny) I can’t fucking find my journal which sucks bc I’ve been writing in it since I was 16 #and I know it’s not lost and it’s here in my room if I look hard enough but #i just can’t even bring myself to do it #anywyas idek #end of vent

[starlesseyes]

.

#hello it's 4 am and i'm lonely #i feel very disconnected from everyone in my life #like not to sound like a 14yo emo on main but no one understands me lmao #i just want to be with someone who feels like home #someone who loves the things i love and not just because i love them so we can actually bond over them and i won't feel like a fuckin freak #or worse that i'm just being tolerated or they're not even listening to me and just zoning out while i gush over things #i can literally feel when people don't care about what i'm talking about and it makes me feel so small and stupid and humiliated and LONELY #lately my best friend has been telling me how sad she is bc she feels like no one will ever love her romantically #and it hurts me to hear bc i know she's wonderful and deserving of love but i can't possibly convince her of that yknow #and it's weird bc i feel this way about myself too but i don't think much about it? or i didn't before she started telling me how she felt #like before this i was just coming to terms with my last relationship and thinking about the self work i wanna do before i try dating again #but lately i've been crying every single night thinking i'll never get my shit together and therefore no one will ever want to date me #like i truly feel unworthy of romantic love #ugh i probably should just let myself go to sleep when i have these thoughts lmao instead of staying up and dwelling on them #i'm definitely sleepy enough #i just don't want tomorrow to come bc then i'll have to go to work again. i want to enjoy the peaceful nighttime just a little bit longer.

[3hks]

How to Write REALISTIC and SMOOTH Dialogue

In a story, dialogue is quite important, it helps the readers paint a picture of what's happening and the characters themselves. However, it can be difficult to avoid the unnaturalness and choppiness that comes with a lack of experience. But luckily, I have put together A LOT of advice on how you can get over that rockiness and improve!

*** KEEPING YOUR DIALOGUE REALISTIC, AND PACING ***

>> Keep your characters in character:

Dialogue is a remarkably quick way for readers to determine your character's personality. Thus, you want their speech patterns to remain fairly consistent so the audience won't get confused. If your character is more serious, then they will use less slang and perhaps a more impressive vocabulary. If your character is more relaxed, they will use more slang and compress the words. (such as "dunno," "kay," "y'know," etc.)

Basically, you want their tone to match their traits so the way that they talk is more realistic and personlized to themselves. If the way all your characters speak is the same, there's something wrong. A strong tip is to put yourself in your character's shoes and imagine how they would respond!

>> Take the situation into consideration:

This is another part of keeping your characters in, well, character. Different emotional situations will have a different effect on separate people, so make sure that you have an idea of how your character will act during stressful, irritating, and sad times.

If your character is normally cold, they will struggle if it comes to comforting other people because they have less experience in that field.

>> Don't take too long with their words:

Unlike when narrating something, most people talk just to get the idea across. They will be more specific and quicker with what they say. (This excludes any character who likes to talk a lot.) Unless it's on purpose, they won't dance around the topic. Think of when you casually chat with your friends; you're pretty unlikely to use certain words and/or phrases that might be common to use while narrating.

If you want to explain something complicated, instead of writing out a paragraph of just one person talking, use a question-and-answer prompt! This is where another character continuously asks related questions that get answered by another person, so you can indirectly reveal your explanation.

*** HOW TO WRITE A SMOOTHER CONVERSATION AND DIALOGUE TAGS***

>> Having a variety of dialogue tags:

This is a pretty basic thing to look out for if you're new to writing conversations. Using words like "said," every other sentence can easily make it feel choppy and robotic. Instead, use words like "murmured," "smirked," etc. to paint some emotion into their words. Additionally, vary the location of the dialogue tags! They don't all have to go after the statement, you can include something in the beginning or even the middle, too!

Examples:

Beginning - She tilted her head, "What are you talking about?"

Middle - "Oh," he blinked, "I actually never thought about that."

End - "Wait up!" She exclaimed loudly, waving her hands around.

>> Using no dialogue tags to create a smooth conversation:

Having too many tags can also overwhelm your reader--remember, sentence variety is a crucial part of writing--so you can always drop them if they're unneeded. This applies when your characters (two is the suggested amount) are talking back and forth in a pattern straightforward enough for the reader to understand who's talking without it having to be labeled.

Dropping dialogue tags in these moments can create a smoother atmosphere during the conversation because the reader only has to focus on the talking present.

*** USING SLANG, STUTTERS, FILLER WORDS, AND PAUSES ***

Human speech is often not perfect; when talking, we often make mistakes such as filler words, grammatically incorrect phrases, etc. Hence, for more natural-sounding dialogue, it's important to incorporate some of these.

>> Pauses and stutters:

When reading dialogue, we read it at a steady pace unless it's written otherwise. However, that steady pace can soon get too robotic and too smooth. Luckily, there are several ways to change this! You can use dialogue tags, (ex: she quickly spoke) commas, and ellipsis (...). These are often integrated when the character is hesitant, nervous, answering something, or when they need to admit something. The same idea applies to stutters--they're mainly used to demonstrate anxiousness, which can be found in varying situations.

>> Filler words and slang:

Filler words can really just be used where you see fit. They may be used in the situations I previously mentioned (because it shows someone stumbling over their words) but it's ultimately up to you!

Slang, just like everything else, should not be used too often, or it will seem forced and exaggerated. The point is to sound natural, and increasing amounts of repetitiveness can ruin it. It's also important to remember that in real life, our conversations move slower; when someone speaks, another person usually doesn't respond quite literally, right after. However, in writing, dialogue can actually often seem that way, which is why using tags and these imperfections of speech is pivotal for building a realistic conversation!

*** CONCLUSION ***

Lastly, a key point when writing dialogue is to ALWAYS read the conversations! Whether it be in your head or out loud, it can often help you catch anything that seems off! Additionally, like I mentioned at the very beginning, write dialogue from your character's perspective! Imagine yourself as them and how they/you would talk. Try to keep your dialogue tags, sentences, and word use varied to create a natural conversation!

If you were struggling before, I hope that this (extra) long guide was able to really offer you some insight and useful tips! If you read this far, thank you!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

#writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #creative writing #writing advice #writing inspo #dialogue #writing dialogue #writing dialogue tips #dialogue tips #how to write dialogue #how to write smooth dialogue #how to write natural dialogue #tips on writing dialogue #tips on writing smooth dialogue #tips on writing realistic dialogue #how to write realistic dialogue

[boyczar]

#so much clarity it’s crazy #everything is making sense now i honestly just feel sad #what can you do when you see that someone you care about desperately needs help but they can’t see it? #especially when they push you away for acknowledging that they might have any faults at all #i wish i could find a way to say all these things that i’ve come to realize with the guarantee of not hurting anyone’s feelings #but what can you do when people aren’t able to be receptive to the truth bc it cracks their concept of reality #or threatens their view of themselves ? #i can understand how hard it is to have someone hold up a metaphorical mirror up to your face and force you to look #and not just look but SEE how you really are #and it doesn’t mean that they hate you #and i know that can be hard to understand too #but i’ve been forced to confront a lot of awful aspects of myself bc of the circumstances i just happened to go through #which sucked and i hated it when i was going through it but now i’m so thankful for it #i still have A LOT to work on that i really want to change #but i’m glad that i have the framework and receptivity to accept my faults and correct them over time #i know that i can’t make anyone feel the same #i can’t force people to take criticism and understand that there’s still love & care behind it but i wish i could #i feel like i’m watching so much self destruction & such a strong cycle of dysfunction wreck the lives of those i care about #i feel helpless & i hate it. i wish i could offer my insight with sincerity & know that it won’t be taken the wrong way #i have no condescension or arrogance in my corner just a lot of concern & anxiety about what will unfold #and what has already unfolded right under my nose? why wasn’t i braver sooner? why couldn’t i recognize all the pain & dysfuntion ? #i feel guilty that i didn’t try to help before it was too late #& here i am now excommunicated from anyone who used to care about me #which i understand is also part of the plan #how much worse is this all going to get before something good erupts from it? #& it’s something that i know will happen #if it doesn’t that means i’ve failed & i don’t know how many lives would be ruined because of it #ugh #back to my research to figure this shit out further #mine

[scientia-rex]

One of my patients used to be a Big Deal Specialist in the city and you can just TELL he’s SEETHING that no one out here is even qualified to understand what he did, much less how important he was. He’s also terrified of death. It’s both annoying and really sad. Like, sir, I hate to break it to you, but no amount of knowledge will protect you from the ravages of time. It’s a special kind of hell to know the stages of various fatal diseases intimately. What is it going to feel like when it’s my turn? How do doctors want to die? Suddenly, quietly. Slip away painlessly in my sleep. But how likely is that? Not very. More likely I’ll get cardiovascular disease or cancer, the greatest killers of our time.

He was so afraid of cancer he had an organ that wasn’t cancerous removed just in case. He talks down to me as if I’m his student, and who knows? Maybe I was. He was in the same city as me, and they were forever dragging Big Name Doctors in to teach us things. Maybe I learned how to elicit Achilles tendon reflexes from him.

But mostly I find myself a little scornful. Who lives without the shadow of death? Who doesn’t think about death all the time? When you die, life is a round thing, finished and whole. What will your life look like when God holds it in the palm of his hand?

Also don’t fucking call me by my first name unless I’ve specifically said you can. I don’t GIVE that permission to patients, except for my mentally ill trans and queer patients. If I wanted to be disrespected by an older man I would have married young.

You do not have time. This important doctor who based his whole life around his importance lived as rich and full a life as anyone. And now he’s clinging to it, leaving fingernail marks on the walls on his way out. No one has time. There will be a moment when you’re dying when you think, I would give anything I have to be back in that moment. Any ordinary moment. Taking the dogs out to go potty. Browsing at the grocery store. When you’re being crucified on a hospital bed, dying and aware of it through the morphine, you would give anything you ever possessed to go back and have one more agony-free afternoon. Sit on a curb or a stoop. Walk through a park. Hug your spouse. These tiny fragmentary moments that we are constantly sliding through, tobogganing past at high speeds, these are what will be our life when our life is over.

I am accountable to that self. To the dying me. What did I do with this gift and curse? I don’t believe in God, but I know that I will die, and I have watched enough dying people by now to know the kinds of things I’ll think about. I want to make that me proud of what I’ve done and how I’ve spent my life. She will be a harder judge than God, and I want her to look at this one little life and think, yes. I did what I meant to.

#death cw

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You’re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic